#one day ill write a ramble with actual good information and not just me pointing out stuff that's cool but yknow what I'm learning

[kdipshit]

Learning still ;

Do we manually turn on focused mode when talking about focused vs. diffuse mode? And is that why I’m always ‘bored’ coz Im always in diffuse mode? Focus is a difficult thing to learn, and yes I think I have to learn everything from the beginning, I need to know the laws I need to keep balance, the laws of life…. How my brain works, how I think, how I feel my emotions, how I process thoughts, all of that, needs to be learnt, and I can’t learn properly without first being in focus mode, the gathering mode, recieval mode, information is just pouring in, its not until we get to use our diffuse move where we turn around and place the info into the subcategories of your brain, organising and making sense of the information. One just doesn’t seem possible without the other. So I have to learn how to use these mods in order to actually learn anything.

My brain feels like its a lot of the info I’m storing is hoarded, or in the wrong places. So I’m at a point where I’m tying to reorganise my brain, gather info from myself, and renovate my head space. Its the least I could do hehe.

I can’t waste my days trying to find the meaning in everything, I can see the bigger picture and get a change to clean my lense while I’m at it, the meaning is productivity. If youre doing, there is always meaning. Ugh idk serial killers might read that and think I’m on their side I’m just rambling and probably talking to only a specific few….

Dont regret a single choice, even if your regret it, like if you decided to have a cone even tho you’re running low and you didn’t really need it, don’t regret those small choices, learn to accept your choice as they come naturally, you can learn to change them once you get to know them, you might even find our exactly why you make some decisions that may not be there best, but you do them anyways. I make choices every single day that I’m not exactly proud of, but they’re MY choices, an extension on ME, so ill fan love the shit out of them until they start acting right, I know they’re wrong, some bigger than others, some effects others, but they’re mind and I own them. i can tell you why I would do some of the bad things, give you all the reasons in the world, convince you, but it will still be burning in the bottom of my stomach.

What I’m trying to say is, I am okay with exactly who I am right now. My goals are reachable, I can see the person I want to become, and I can see how to get there, right now I am working on my actions, starting with my reactions. I can say all the fun things I want, but to live by my own word. That is the mani right there, its the changing who I am, and accepting the best version of myself. It may be hard and I may feel like I don’t even want it, but its a trick and I better keep going.

I am so happy to get some of this shit off my mind, its like I’m unravelling a chord filled with life from my brain, and just translating everything and putting it on paper, so I can read it. Writing every day has been such an escape, I love writing. I could do this shit all day, lol, well I could do this shit all day when I’m in this this mood I guess lol, I could actually write in almost any mood, even my I don’t wanna write moods, I can write in any mood.

The bad definitely outweighs the good, by bad feelings about writing : ‘I don’t want to write’… my good feelings about writing : it literally gives me life, its allowing my should to be expressed, I feel open and connected to my body, I feel like I’m learning so much, I just love the feeling of writing taking me away.

I always find comfort in the 1 bad thought, and then it consumes me. Sometimes all I can think about is not wanting to write. I guess I don’t want to be proactive lol, I’m learning a lot now, though. So its been easier to come to the keyboard. Easier to be proactive, easier to not feel guilt after zoning out, for I’m just in diffuse mode, no need to yank it back into focus mode, there is no rush. I feel peace here.

Writing helps me to construct my sentences, I kind of get muddled up trying to make sentence out loud. Helps my thought process slow down so I can see wtf I’m actually thinking about. I didn’t know I had a problem with living In my head, when I looked around and noticed I barely even look after myself, everything is an effort, and I had no hobbies, but so much fkn shit around me. Its time to clean this hoarding mess I’ve kept in my head, and live with the world. You think you the only one who doesn’t get to do the mani? Nah girl… up you get.

I think I learn by learning what is it not. Like how I just learn how to focus properly because I learnt what it actually is, focused mode is tunnel vision, I know what focused is because I know what its opposite is, diffuse. I know and understand the opposite because I know and understand focus. Do I make sense? Well I make sense to me, in a way that actually freaks me out, I’m like my own teacher, philosophy ? Girl idk.

I feel like I just need to slow it down, the thinking, just slow it down. Stop thinking about thinking. BE. Seperate your body from your thoughts , they’re not even there.

I can’t wait to fall in love again, with the right person. I love so vibrantly and beautifully and I can’t wait to be able to express that again. Until then, I will practice by loving myself in that same vibrant way. I want to give myself everything that I can, all my time, my attention, my love, my gifting, my home, my safe place. If I could dig deeper in my subconscious.. where would I go?

[whirlybirdwhat]

Its been awhile since I Rambled so guess what y'all are getting tonight!

Today’s topic is going to be Family; specifically, the family dynamics/examples in One Piece.

In the first two ‘arcs’, Shells Town and Orange Town, there isn’t a single mention of family beyond ChouChou (a good doggy) and his owner, and even that is less familial and more Pet-owner friendship, obviously. Instead, the arcs focus on introducing characters (Luffy, Zoro, Nami) and establishing world building and themes of the story - This is what the One Piece is, This what the series is all about, dreams and chasing them forever.

It isn’t until Syrup we get a mention of family, and even then its just Usopp’s lack of one, as he has a dead mother, and a faraway father. The most important aspect of this is that Usopp doesn’t really know his father beyond a role model.

It isn’t until the Baratie and Cocoyasi Arcs that we see any importance placed on ‘family,’ which is little over 40 chapters into the series. 

And so BOOM - another major theme is introduced into the series, subtly tying into the main theme (Dreams and chasing them) and etc. 

I personally however like how it was introduced behind everything else because you eventually become completely blindsided to how important family is in One Piece. And not just any family - the family you choose which is simply awesome!

So lets start looking at these family’s shall we?

All of these families are really diverse in their dynamics, so lets start with the easiest example - Usopp, who has none.

As previously stated, Usopp’s mother is dead, and for all we love Yasopp he pretty much ditched the kid. So - an example of a lack of family and how that influenced Usopp, without him turning into a ‘woe is me, I hate my dad’ character which can be common trope in fiction. Pretty interesting if you ask me.

Zoro can also be seen to have no family, and unlike Usopp, he never appears to have had any in the first place (Wano Arc may explain), and, yet again, doesn’t fall into a common trope for this.

Moving on, the next family relationship seen in One Piece is Sanji and Zeff, which is incredibly heart warming to me. Classic Single Dad trying to get his son to move out trope lol. More seriously, this is another family dynamic that we see - 

and very different from the next person, Name, who has no parent at all and when she did, she had a single mother. Bell-mere is an amazing example of a mom struggling to feed her kids and literally willing to do anything for these two girls she found in the wreckage of a battle. Bell-mere is also one of the few examples of some kick-ass moms we see in the series.

While One Piece follows the ‘kill the moms/absent mom’ trope they do make them awesome characters who definitely did not lie down and take their deaths nicely.

Nami’s arc is also the first time we see a sibling and also the first time we see the sibling get wounded in front of another hi ace , and begins to add value to the found family theme.

Because Nojiko chose to be Nami’s sister. Bell-mere chose to be Nami’s mother. Further back, Zeff chose to be Sanji’s father.

And then we meet (rip) Ace, who appears to be a blood relative of Luffy’s, adding importance not only the family we choose but the family we have. Of course, this is debunked later, but it definitely reinforces the ‘I love my family’ thing we have going on (Hey have you seen my baby brother - that's my kid brother - don’t hurt my brother - have I said Luffy’s my brother yet - Ace, Alabasta, pre death)

Oh! And we can’t forget about Chopper’s lovely parents who love him despite the fact that he’s not even human, (I salute you old medical people) and Vivi’s father who clearly adores his daughter and is very proud and supportive of her?

Alright.

And then there were four. 

Robin and Franky’s backstories happen at the same time and are vastly different yet incredibly similar.

Robin’s story is about losing family, even the family you had for but a few days (Saul) and eventually reclaiming a family for yourself. She is also one of the few characters who have a biological relative.

Franky’s story is about the continuous gain and loss of the same family. He started out with nothing - his parents threw him overboard for gods sake - but then he gained Tom, Icebarg, and Kokoro, and the frog (I forget how to spell his name oops) and formed a relationship with them... only to lose them again when Tom died and then gained them again along with the Franky Family.

His story is also very cool because, unlike the others, he was the leader of his family and not the one relying on the others. Also unlike the others, he lost his family when he was an adult. 

Now - what are the similarities between the two, you may ask? Well, for one, they both inadvertently caused the death of a loved one (Robin, Saul and Franky, Tom). Their biological family was either abusive (Robins Aunt, Franky Parents for throwing him overboard) or absent (Robin’s parents as explorers, Franky’s for abandoning him), yet their ‘first’ found family was people who were part of their career - the shipwrights for Franky and the archeologists for Robin!

Essentially, the message here is your work, your job, your coworkers can be your family too - it doesn’t have to be someone who fills a familial role specifically!

Lastly we have Brook, the Sanji situation and Luffy - Jimbei’s will come at a later date once I get the hang of his backstory and character. 

Brook first - he lost it all as an adult. Thats essentially all I have to say, as we know very little of his childhood. But as an adult he lost the family he created, the Rumbar pirates, and Laboon, proving that not only can adults make their own families but they can lose it too - different from the rest of the then teenage straw hats.

His family is also similar to Chopper’s as species doesn’t matter to Brook - he loves Laboon as if he were a dear human friend. 

Which is just sweet yknow?

The opposite of Sanji’s biological family, who are assholes. This is great family dynamic because it proves that only the people who you think of as family, are family, and not every family is kind and loving. Which sucks, but is an important thing to realize, as it contrasts all the other messages we have had so far from One Piece!

Then we have Luffy. He is one of the few characters with living biological family - and one of the few who just doesn’t care. Luffy hits the mark of every box in a way - he’s lost family (Ace, Sabo), he has absent parental figures (his mom, whoever she it, and Dragon) actual parental figures (Dadan, if you want, Makino, and Shanks at least as a role model) family by choice (His brothers) abusive yet weirdly loving family (Gramps) and self sacrificing family (Rip Ace)

Whats important though is how it effects him - specifically in Marineford.

He does all of that for family, feels like he would die if he didn’t, and built his own family out of the Strawhats. With Marineford, the theme of family, chosen family, was emphasized and finally hammered in.

tl;dr The Straw Hat Pirate crew and One Piece in general has a wide array of characters with diverse families, all who influence the characters by their absence, presence and actions one way or another, and help bolster the subtle theme of ‘found family is important’ in One Piece, especially with the Marineford arc (Rip Ace). It is also important to note that most of the characters. gave up the family they had to be with their family in the Strawhats, which wow, my heart.

Anyway, that's it, this is long so I'm not checking it for errors, have fun!!! I just needed to say something about how how I love those family dynamics in one piece

[ruby-whistler]

therapy psa

hey there! have you ever said, “(character) needs to go to therapy! they need to get them help they need” in fandom context? 

that’s cool! nothing wrong with that! i used to say and still say that a lot both before and after i went into therapy, because to put it simply, characters in nowadays’ media face a lot of very traumatizing and stressful situations in quick succession. however before i got my own treatment i had a lot of very confusing thoughts about what therapy actually entails, so as someone who has been going through cognitive-behavioural treatment (for ptsd and anxiety) for about a year, i’d like to perhaps just inform people who are unsure about the concept.

so uh, welcome to my essay! the gist of it is:

1. what a therapist does and doesn’t do 2. why that matters when talking about therapy or writing about it

just a quick note, again, that i am not licenced or professional or anything of that sort. i have an interest in psychology, but i’ve picked all of this stuff up by observing my own psychotherapist. if you feel like you need professional help, please reach out and try to schedule an appointment close to where you live.

1. so... what is therapy?

let me preface this by saying the main point of this post, which i will probably be repeating a couple of times throughout this: therapy =/= emotional support. your therapist isn’t there to hug you and tell you everything will be alright. so, what does a therapist do?

- professional diagnosis

your therapist will most likely give you sheets of paper to fill out at your first appointment, ask you questions, give you tasks to complete, psychoanalyze you and diagnose you. they will find out exactly what is going on with you; after all, they’ve been to school for that and as much as you might feel lost in your problems, they know what they are called, why they happen and how to solve them.

- instructions

the psychologist will not “therapize” you on the spot. think of it as piano lessons; you come there once to twice per two months for a one to (rarely) four hour session. most appointments sit around the one hour mark. much like on a piano session, you show off your progress in that one hour and talk about what things you’re having difficulty with. your therapist will then give you advice as to what you should try to do, and send you off for a few months to deal with life.

your therapist, and this is hard to swallow but important, will not coddle you. if you keep bringing up a problem over and over again because it seems large to you, but they keep changing the theme to something else, you might even get frustrated. but a (good) therapist knows more about your brain than you do. they’re not there to validate your feelings, they’re there to help get rid of the ones that stop you from functioning normally.

what they will do, is go; “hey. stop focusing on that so much. i know it makes your life hard, but it’s part of a larger problem. from an objective perspective, you should shift your attention to this issue and solve it instead. if it keeps happening, you do the breathing and mental exercises i taught you, but the only way to stop it is to try and resolve this underlying problem.”

a therapist 99% of the time will not have an emotional attachment to you. you’re a name in their many alphabetically sorted files from which they take out yours and check through their notes before each session. then they will help you solve your issues by explaining the things happening in your brain and instructing on how to fix them. nothing less or more. you will usually not have an attachment either, because that’s not the point of going to therapy. therapy isn’t emotional support. 

- further help

if your mental health issues/mental illnesses cross a certain line, your therapist will direct you to a psychiatrist for further help such as medicine or other kinds of treatment. most therapist do cognitive-behavioural therapy, which “helps people learn how to identify and change destructive or disturbing thought patterns that have a negative influence on behavior and emotions.” however, in intense cases this is not enough. your psychotherapist will help you get the additional treatment you need.

another thing they can do is legal things! documents, things to give to your school, job, the authorities, other technical things. they are a higher authority when it comes to a lot of things, and can make your life easier.

- other

this doesn’t mean you can’t talk about life or must be all objective or only talk about the negatives. your therapist will often try to get you to view your issues in a more positive light, ask about other things that make you happy or distract you. you are pretty much free to ramble to them! they’re happy to know, and if it makes you feel better, there is no need to be all gloomy at your therapist appointments. if your therapist is alright with you rapping the entirety of hamilton at some point, or you explaining c!dream’s arc on the dream smp, feel free. if you feel happy talking about something, that’s good! you have something to latch onto and distract yourself from the hell in your brain. 

i’ve learned that thinking about things that give you comfort when things get rough is a big part of cognitive-behavioural treatment, in order to stop that good ol’ thought spiral of anxiety.

2. why is this important to know?

well, i think a thing many people overlook when talking about fictional characters going into therapy is the fact that,, therapy by itself often isn’t enough.

i asked my therapist a few days ago what my family could do when i’m having an anxiety attack. she replied, “they can be there for you. they can keep up conversation, distract you from the stressor, assure you that nothing bad is really happening and that they care about you.”

this is something really important that people forget; emotional support does wonders. your friends, family, whoever, if they provide support it’s suddenly much less terrifying to go through the healing process.

a character being sent to therapy and left to fend for themselves is not a happy ending. it’s not going to heal them quickly, it will be extremely difficult to go through all that on their own. the more the people who care about you understand your struggles and try to be there for you, the less scary it gets. they’ll ground you, they’ll hug you, they’ll make you a mug of hot chocolate and they’ll hold your hand and say “everything’s ok. everything will be ok”. because the mental harm in your brain is more often than not a consequence of things being not ok in the past. remembering that it is ok now is important. having emotional support can both remind your that it’s all in your head, and assure you that your feelings are valid and people will be there for you for as long as it takes for things to finally be ok, or as ok as they can be.

as much as professional help is very important, this is vital to the healing process. having people be there for you and just having people who support you in general. 

i think people should put more weight on that than just “character needs therapy.” character needs therapy and emotional support. these two go together, and character needs both. you might be, or try to be strong, but it’s comforting to be.... well, comforted. “get them the help they need” no. get them the help they need and then on top of that provide the help they need. 

that’s all. just something i thought was important to remember.

- ruby

[tenthgrove]

yess thank you for letting me ask you about the lore >:3c so I have to get my absolute favorites outta the way first— what kinda lore and thoughts do you have for sorbet or gelato ( <- before they get together and the earlier years of them getting together if you need a specific period ) I have to also ask are you ok if I go down the “line” and get your thoughts in other asks about the rest of the la squadra babes? Thank you sm 💖💖 I hope you’re having a wonderf day/evening

Ah! Now this is one of my absolute favourites! Apologies to anyone who has already heard me ramble about my Sorbet and Gelato backstory ad nauseam on multiple occasions, but this is really an area where I can't help myself. Besides, this is my opportunity to go more in depth where I haven't before:

(Note after writing this: It's stupidly long. I'm sorry I just can't help myself with these backstories. I couldn't decide what to leave out so I decided nothing.)

(Also please feel free to ask me more lore questions because I love doing this)

We'll begin with Sorbet, born in Naples in February 1967 if you follow the canon timeline (although by default I write in modern AU so move the dates 20 years later). His situation at birth was absolutely dire, the eldest child of an incredibly vulnerable woman and one of her clients as a sex worker. Sorbet's mother was by all means a decent woman but her severe mental illness and drug addiction made it impossible for her to be a good mother, which of course had a bad effect on Sorbet growing up. After Sorbet, she had 5 more children, all through clients, and Sorbet was saddled with much of their care.

Though he loved his siblings, Sorbet was pretty much done with this life by age 12 and was easily swept up by older boys from the local street gang, who paid him well to peddle drugs when he should have been in school. This was a very underfunded neighbourhood so nobody questioned his truancy, and within the next couple of years he had stopped going to school entirely. Shortly after this, having acquired sufficient money through his crime involvement, Sorbet left his family to stay with his new friends, moving between them on a regular basis. He also discovered his sexuality around this time and dated a few male friends, though none of these relationships got very far.

By age 16, Sorbet had earned a reputation in the street gang for skilled and passionate violence, and was selected by the ringleader to commit the group's first planned murder, in exchange of course for a lucrative reward. Sorbet accepted, succeeded, and became the group's de-facto assassin whenever needed. He continued to hoard considerable money for the remainder of his adolescence, though continued to be functionally homeless since he didn't see it necessary when sofa-surfing was suiting him fine.

Before resuming with Sorbet, let's explain the life that Gelato came from. Gelato was born in October 1967 in St. Petersburg, Russia, (Note- I previously used the city of Minsk, unaware that this is in fact, in Belarus) to an upper-middle class businessman and his Italian wife, a distant relative of French Monarchy. Gelato's relationship with his parents was rocky from the start due to the fact they would have preferred a girl after three successive sons, but any parental love they had for their youngest child broke down entirely after he was diagnosed with both Autism and ADHD at age 5, in an evaluation intending to find the cause of some behavioural issues that were really, just a response to emotional neglect.

When Gelato was 13 he, his parents, and two of his three brothers (the eldest was already an adult by this time and elected to stay behind) moved to Italy to escape some allegations of corruption in the father's business. They moved to a rural village in North-West Italy where the community was very middle-class and quite stifling for Gelato, who had enough social rules to remember in the familiar, economically-diverse city he grew up in. His behavioural issues got worse and began to include things he would later regret, such as attacking and stealing from younger children, and things he would absolutely not, like attacking and stealing from teachers. By this point the family had largely written him off as a failure, revering instead their academically successful, well-behaved older children, which absolutely contributed to the spiralling cycle of behaviour issues Gelato faced.

Then, at age 17, Gelato failed a crucial exam and was expelled from high-school. His parents kicked him out on the spot, and with no other family in Italy Gelato had very few options on what to do next. He recalled, however, one older friend having links to a street gang in Naples, and decided to see if this boy might have a route out of destitution for him. Indeed, the friend did know of a man in Naples needing assistance within the gang, but could offer no help in getting Gelato there. Seeing no other way, Gelato walked the whole journey.

Arriving in Naples, the friend's associate announced that the position Gelato was after had been taken, but taking pity on his distress, informed him of another friend who needed someone to look after an unlicensed bar that served as one of the group's main meeting points. He agreed to arrange for the small apartment above the bar to be given as payment.

Gelato accepted, but although he had now solved the problem of homelessness his life was still incredibly miserable. For one, with his pay being the apartment he had to rely on measly tips to get by, which rarely left him with enough to eat let alone anything else. Additionally, as an outsider with little understanding of the way gangs work Gelato was an easy target for abuse, and was treated like absolute shit by the bar's patrons.

By this point in time, Sorbet had just turned 18. He was, incidentally, in the same gang Gelato had joined, and a regular at the bar he worked in. For a good couple of months they took no notice of each other, until Sorbet came to be in a coincidental feud with one of the men who was violent to Gelato at the bar. When Gelato witnessed the two of them in a fight, he made the spur-of-the-moment decision to join in on Sorbet's side, knocking the patron unconscious and leaving him too afraid to visit again. For his trouble, Sorbet gave Gelato a portion of the money he looted from the fight's loser, and flirted with him lightly before going about with his evening. Unknown to Sorbet, he had just sent Gelato falling head over hills in love.

Gelato found out about Sorbet's sexuality from other patrons and, delighted, attempted to flirt with him the next time they saw each other, but his attempts came off very poorly and Sorbet actually thought he was being insulted. Angered, he dragged Gelato into the cellar to demand what was going on. Gelato, terrified, admitted having a crush, which Sorbet found to be the sweetest and most genuine thing he'd ever heard. While he couldn't promise a relationship, he did agree to show Gelato more attention in the future. But, it was only a matter of days until Sorbet found himself loving Gelato back.

This whirlwind relationship continued happily for three weeks, Sorbet greatly improving Gelato's situation through his saved money and helping him fend off the abusive patrons. Gelato, in turn, offered Sorbet a permanent place to stay in the apartment, which he accepted. Sorbet was in the process of moving his things, and they had plans to refurbish the place to make it actually habitable.

But then, everything came crashing down. One night the bar was subject to a surprise raid by the police, operating by the false assumption it was empty. Sorbet and Gelato attempted to flee but were caught, and in a panic, Gelato shot a policeman dead. Rushing to his defence Sorbet killed two more, but a fourth escaped to tell the tale. The couple knew they were screwed. Running to the headquarters of their gang they begged for protection but were informed the small group simply could not save them from a charge this serious, and gave them only a single night of shelter to plan their next move. Gelato, who remember had never committed anything more serious than minor ABH before, had an absolute breakdown over this predicament that night, and whilst comforting him, Sorbet devised a blood pact with him to stick together no matter what came.

Over the next few days, Sorbet and Gelato fled north, avoiding the police through Sorbet's skills as a criminal and Gelato's very convincing Russian tourist impression. They were almost at the French border when Sorbet awoke one night to find Gelato missing behind him. He chased his tracks to the driveway of a rural house, a tearful Gelato clutching a knife at the shut door and trembling. He informed Sorbet that he had intentionally led him to the village where his family lived, with the intention to break in and kill them as revenge for the years of abuse. Sorbet warned Gelato that this would not be good for their attempts to flee, but said he understood fully and would help him if this is truly what he wanted. Gelato agreed, and together they broke into the house and slaughtered Gelato's mother and father, additionally killing one of his brothers after he woke from the noise. The other brother, the youngest other than Gelato, was spared, as Gelato felt his role in the abuse had been comparatively more minor and he did not deserve to die. This of course, left another witness.

The massacre in the village was quickly linked to the one at the bar and Gelato was promptly identified from a comparison of DNA found at the scene to his surviving brother's. Sorbet, a known criminal, was identified soon after. Not only were the pair now known but the police figured out what their plan was and informed the French police as well, making things exponentially harder for the couple.

They made do for a while by hanging low and keeping on the move, living off money stolen from the parents' house. Eventually however, they needed more, and began making deals with local crime organisations to carry out assassinations in exchange for money or temporary shelter. While Sorbet was already a pro at this, Gelato found himself a fast learner, and soon realised he shared Sorbet's adoration for the act of killing. He felt as though he was finally coming to meet his true self.

Though the assassination deals were lucrative, they did not help the couple keep a low profile and the attacks from police were relentless. Several times, they barely escaped capture. All this was not good on their mental states, and after two years, Sorbet knew it needed to end. He and Gelato returned to Naples in the hope their old gang might reconsider protecting them, but they were met with a surprise as their old gang had been completely overtaken by Passione. Even still, the new mobsters had heard a lot about Sorbet and Gelato's exploits and agreed to get them an audience with a local Capo, Pericolo, who was impressed by the men's skills and moved by the sense of honour suggested by their love for each other. He agreed to initiate them into the gang.

Soon after this, Sorbet and Gelato recieved stands which, although not very powerful, assisted them greatly in the art of assassination. Soon, they were natural choices for Passione whenever a hit needed carrying out in the Naples area. At some point a few years in, they befriended a man named Prosciutto who had been recently forced into Passione due to his heritage. Prosciutto was also funnelled into assassination jobs and, with less of a reputation for impulsivity than Sorbet and Gelato, was the one given the order to form a new assassination squad when the need arose, around 1993 if we're following canon.

(Note, I hc La Squadra was created by Passione in response to a real life government crackdown on the Italian mafia around 1992-93, in response to an incredibly scandalous series of assassinations. In such a climate, it would make sense for Passione to want to consolidate an elite squad of its best hitmen, do avoid future problems.)

Due to personal commitments Prosciutto did not want to be the captain, so attempted to give this responsibility to Sorbet, a request the boss promptly denied. Prosciutto was, however, allowed to add Sorbet and Gelato to the team's ranks, cementing the three of them as the first members of the team.

Prosciutto would, soon enough, find another person to give the title of captain to, but that's a story for another time.

[jesswritesthat]

hey babe! i love your writing so much!!! so i recently watched kaguya-sama: love is war and i was wondering if you could do a headcanon of kuroo, bokuto and atsumu where their crush gets sick and they visit her and she drags them into her bed to sleep with them? you can decide how it ends. thank you so much in advance if you do end up writing this! i love you and take care of youself💞

Hello lovely! Thank you so much for this, I’ve never seen Kaguya-Sama but it sounds really cute. Also take care of yourself too and I hope these are okay! Much love 💕

Summary: Bokuto, Kuroo and Atsumu checking up on their sick crush headcanons

>>>>—————————>

Bokuto Kōtarō:

• Has felt like he's been missing something all day but couldn't quite decipher what it was until Akaashi mentions how you're off sick.

• Thats when your phone is bombarded with ‘urgent’ messages inquiring about your wellbeing to the dramatic extent of:

[ Kou: (N/N)! You haven't answered me yet, are yOu StiLl AliVe?! ]

[ (N/n): no ]

[ Kou: Aw, can I have your cool headphones then, since you won't be needing them anymore? 😁💕 ]

[ (N/n): Wow Kou, I'll haunt your dumbass at Volleyball games for that. ]

[ Kou: Even in death, your support means everything to me. ]

• Despite his nonsense he kept updated with you throughout the school day by sending memes in hopes of raising your spirits. The most peace you got was during Volleyball Club time - the Ace too invested to message you at that point.

• At the end though he calls his team for a serious discussion and they're all expecting major improvements on their gameplay ready for Nationals.

But no.

"What can I get (N/n) to make her feel better, this is crucial. I need only good ideas!"

• They all knew about his crush on you, he wasn't exactly secretive about it but you were none the wiser. Even so, Fukurōdani offered what advice they could to their friend because like him, they cared about you too.

• "Akaashi picked up your schoolwork." Bokuto says as he walks into your room, waving the papers and placing them on your side.

"And you didn't think to take notes for me?"

"Nah, I wanted to bring you good stuff."

"Fair point."

• Bokutos likely brought everything he could find once he went home and changed/showered - he's got flowers, your favourite snacks, drinks, medicine and some movies to cure your boredom. Like how much do I owe you???

He's says it's fine though, in return you have to be better by tomorrow.

That's not how it works Kou.

• You're both seated on your bed watching some shitty movie when you start getting a bit sleepy and you just want warmth.

"Can you give me a hug Kōtarō? I just need a hug, I know how weird that sounds..."

• Doesn't even think twice about it, he practically tackles you onto the covers which elicits lovely giggles from you - the potential of him getting sick too isn't even considered, he's just focused on being with you and making you feel better.

• His arms are so warm and they’re beautiful, you forgot how toned he is and you grow so comfortable in his embrace. He’s also really relaxed about it and is calm enough to ramble on normally - except when you nuzzle against him during a cold shiver. Bokuto full on freezes mid sentence, releasing a cautious breath prior to changing the subject.

• It’s obvious he’s content with you though, and surprisingly falls asleep first which makes you laugh. Kōtarō keeps a strong but delicate hold on your body and is subconsciously receptive enough to your every move. You adjusted yourself slightly which stirred him, his voice is much huskier than before due to sleep but remains concerned.

“Can’t you sleep (Y/n)? I can-“

“I’m fine, you’re keeping me warm.”

• With a nod of understanding he’s gone again and you follow shortly afterwards, the both of you unintentionally making the nap a sleepover. Which you only realise the next morning - still in his arms even if the position has changed. You take a few minutes to enjoy it.

• Miraculously doesn't get sick, his immune system must be immortal as he's brimming with energy once he gets up. His radiance is actually contagious as you feel much better in yourself too and his vibrant attitude really motivates you for the day despite being physically exhausted from beating the flu.

• "Your partner is going to be blessed if you bring them breakfast, I mean talk about amazing." You comment as he brings up a plate that he’d crafted in your kitchen, which is surprisingly decent. You suppose he must keep his body fit somehow.

"My crush will have to do for now."

"Wait I - ah, you have a crush on me?"

"Hah, didn't you know? I never tried to hide it or anything."

Kuroo Tetsurō:

• Notices your absence immediately, he's observant by nature but especially where his crush is concerned and he isn't afraid to contact you before class starts.

• "Hey (Y/n), it's Kuroo, are you running late today?"

"Hnn, I'm not gonna make it. I tried but I feel awful - Sickness: 1, (L/n): 0." Already by the grogginess in your voice he can tell you're under the weather and winces at the sound of you stifling a cough.

"Ah geez, go to bed would you? And drink plenty of water, I'll inform the teachers and everything."

"Thanks Tetsurō, I owe you one."

• Will message you at regular intervals throughout the day regarding your health with cute little reminders. You were on his mind frequently, he’s lowkey worried okay?

[ Tetsu: Drink water, and eat breakfast if you can. ]

[ (Y/n): Yeah yeah I have, go learn something. ]

[ Tetsu: Why are you replying? Shouldn't you be sleeping it off - I don't want your germs. ]

[ (Y/n): Sharing is caring. ]

[ Tetsu: Oya? It took a cold for you finally admit you care, so is it gonna take a pandemic to say you love me? 😏 ]

[ (Y/n): 🖕🏻]

• Is actually considerate enough to tell you he'll swing by after practice, and asks if you want anything from the shop so you give basics like water and tablets. Comes equipped with the extra notes he's taken from all of your shared classes and requested papers from teachers in those you don't, so you're not falling behind.

• Aside from the bare minimum you requested, he chucks your favourite snacks on your desk stating that it’s important to keep morale high too. Liar. He just wanted to do something nice for you.

• Checks your temperature despite your protests of not being a child, he only does this because it vexes you and Kuroo finds that cute. As a silent apology for teasing the Hell out of you, he’ll make you some tea and you both get lost in conversation.

• Notices you’re starting to doze off, rest you should’ve had instead of texting everyone - but ensuring everything is fine, he’s about to stealthily exit until your fingers grasp his wrist and tug him back slightly.

"Stay Tetsurō..."

"You'll likely regret that request once you wake up."

"S'ok, it's you."

• The strength you have when tugging him into bed with you catches him completely off guard and he’s actually blushing - doesn’t know what to say but knows he has to at least maintain some composure.

“So uh, never knew you wanted me this badly.”

“Ugh shut up dumbass, I can feel your rapid heartbeat from here.”

“Right...”

• Kuroo goes all shy, you’ve wrapped your arms around his waist and are comfortably leaning against his side and he absentmindedly runs his fingers soothingly up and down your arm to settle his own nerves.

• It’s peacefully silent, simply enjoying one another’s company before he hears your muffled sniffles indicating you’ve fallen asleep and a soft smile graces his lips. If you were his, then he’d definitely kiss your forehead, and lips to be honest, but the fact you aren’t leaves him with a disappointed sigh.

• You both end up taking a nap, waking up wrapped in each other’s arms and noses practically touching which startled the Captain - Kuroo literally falling off of your bed with a yelp much to your amusement. Afterwards, he departs suggesting you get more rest, get better soon and he’ll see you at school next week.

• At least that was the plan, which altered with the text exchange the following morning.

[ Kuroo: Sharing is not caring, I wanted your snacks not your sickness! ]

[ (Y/n): RIP us. 💀 ]

[ Tetsu: You owe me one remember? I've got the house to myself this weekend so would you like to suffer together? I have blankets, entertainment and food. ]

[ (Y/n): Beats sniffling alone, I'll bring the tissues and drugs. ]

• So, you went over with a trail of sneezing in your wake and ended up snuggled with Kuroo under a blanket with a variety of games gracing the TV as you skilfully passed around the tissues. Aside from being ill, spending time like this with him was perfect.

• "Sickness: 2, (L/n) and Kuroo: 0..."

"No, Kuroo: 1.”

"How so? You K.O. a sneeze or something?"

"I got to spend the day with you didn't I? That counts as a win in my book."

"Tch careful, anyone would think the Scheming Captain cares~"

"I do smartass, I care about you a lot (Y/n)..."

Miya Atsumu:

• Atsumu wasn't one to act needy in any way, the only excuse for him to contact you in regards to your absence was to do it with a remark and hope you'd elaborate.

[ Atsumu: Yo, are ya ditching me to survive English on my own? That's cold (Y/n) 😭 ]

[ (Y/n): Sorry 'Tsumu, I'm too busy dying to care rn. Have a fun missing me loser. ]

[ Atsumu: Hah you wish, you alright tho? ]

• You're good friends but he's never really expressed genuine concern about you before, not verbally anyway. You thought the final "K" after you'd told him you were gonna rest would be the end of it.

So you were beyond surprised when he rocked up to your house later that evening.

• It took everything you had not to mock him for his embarrassed stature, solely flustered by the fact you'd seen him so considerate. Admittedly you were also exhausted and probably couldn't think of a snarky reply anyway.

• "What's up? Was there homework or - ugh, or something?"

"Huh? Oh I dunno. But uh, I got 'Samu to make you some Okayu, and a Umeboshi Tea since it's good for colds and stuff."

• Totally pestered Osamu all day to help him make you something and had to do stupid favours in return but Atsumu will deny it if you ever ask.

• “I love how you don’t care what you look like when you have guests over.”

“Take your stupid backhanded compliments and shove them up your pretty litt-“ You bite back, flipping him off in the process while Atsumu remains proudly victorious.

“Nah ah, is that any way to speak to the man who brought you dinner?”

“It’s the way to speak to the man whose currently annoying me.”

“You’re welcome, this is revenge for ditching me in class gorgeous~”

• Despite how irritating he could be, Atsumu stuck around for a bit to make sure you ate everything he’d brought and taken the appropriate medication.

• “Oh yeah, I brought that movie you were talking about the other day. Figured it might pass the time a bit.”

“Thank you! I’ll give it back once I’m better - thank you so much ‘Tsumu.”

Your excitement was endearing, and he had to collect himself a bit since admiring such little quirks was out of the question - his crush was bad enough as it is.

“Wanna watch it now? I haven’t got anything to do so I can give you spoilers.”

“Sounds good - and not a word!”

• You spent the afternoon watching the film and playfully wrestling the blonde in order to shut him up whenever he made an attempt to spoil it - he would never, but provoking you was too funny.

• You settle down later on, putting on a mindless tv show for background noise before collapsing onto your bed with groan. Atsumu raising a smug brow at your exhausted state as he threw his jacket on.

• "Wanna sleep with me?" It was innocent, at least you didn’t think much of it then.

"Do I what now?" He was smirking, thankful that your panic left you oblivious to the blush crawling up his neck at the mere insinuation alone.

"Sleep wit- ohh I did not think that through! I meant sleep in my bed, next to me, to help me drift off. Maybe it's the sleepiness or medicine but I really want you Atsumu..."

"Not helping your case at all." Again he smugly responded, dropping his jacket to the floor with a sly smile.

"Stop smirking and just hug me okay? Then you can leave and tease me about this later."

• Atsumu isn't awkward about it, subduing his nerves enough to pull you into his arms as he sits up - dutifully ignoring the butterflies in his stomach due to your close proximity and the intoxicating smell of your hair.

• Atsumu becomes unintentionally soft, his fingers slowly begin to glide through your hair and he hesitates when he feels the hum of contentment you release before continuing. Your whole body just relaxes against his and he subconsciously does the same, not even realising he was this tense around you - was his body always like that in your general presence?

• As you start quietly talking about nothing and everything, he notices a weakness - you’re a lot more open when drowsy and god he wants to take advantage but knows you’ll remember the questions he asked and murder him for it when you’re able.

• Intead he attempts to protect any dignity he thinks he has left with you - jokes on him, it’s absolutely none. You guys are way past that level and he knows it.

“You better get healthy quick, not that I care but English is really borin’ on my own ya know?”

"The people you truly care about must be really lucky to have you 'Tsumu..." The mumble is enough to make him roll his eyes, but he waits until you’re asleep to reply.

"Yeah... you are..."

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[volfoss]

how about ranking bucciarati's team?

regret to inform you that ur gonna get a very long answer bc i have passionate feelings about them all! also trish is in this bc she is part of the team and no one will tell me otherwise and will also include some rambling bc it is me and i have so many feelings towards these characters and none of them r cohesive

under the cut just in case (post writing yes it was long)

Giorno Giovanna:

way way more complex than ppl normally give him credit for (i will not go into feelings on how a majority of the fandom treats him unless ppl want me to then i will in fact make a very long ranty post and will not be stopped)

mildly op (esp at the beginning with how hes kind of able to just use his stand really well w no problems altho i think thats true of most of the jojos that we have seen animated?)

i am emotionally attached to him and want to give him a big hug

hes just a kinda goofy kid and is maybe a bit not good with figuring out hey this is a semi dangerous situation maybe i shouldnt be taunting him (leaky eye luca for example)

has the actual best theme

i love how he works off the rest of the team so well (even w members who do not like him)

is in my top 3 jojos i love this kid sm i would adopt him if he was real

7/10

Bruno Bucciarati:

the fucking way his character develops from licky man to best dad material is my favorite thing

his outfit is so so so good i would die to wear it

in general this man is one of my fave jojos characters and i get a lot of comfort from him

hes just really neat and has a good taste in music

he did his fucking best and i will always love him for that

imo the way that his death was drawn out was genuinely one of the most heartbreaking deaths in the entire series and fucks me up each time i think of it

i feel like he really is the one to hold the team together in a way that everyone feels cared for and saved

def has a savior complex tho for sure

dilf but im ace

also manga superiority bc he either makes the stupidest faces or looks very nice (anime has a lot of weird animation in regards to his face) and also because its lingerie there instead of a tattoo that changes thickness and placement every second

10/10

Leone Abbacchio:

guilty pleasure liking man

i am obsessed with his vibes and wish to become him

i cannot physically express just how much i love him but hes one of my faves of all time (not obvious by my theme at all wdym)

i miss his manga palette but also the colored manga isnt my beloved but also black lipstick abba

hot take maybe but anime abba looks better than manga minus the lipstick debacle

hes so so tall and i will steal his height in a nice way

his past man his past it fucks me up

his death fucks me up normally but when i was rewatching recently, i saw he gave this tiny lil smile after helping the kids get their ball and i could not take it anymore

him and brunos relationship (canonically and out of canon too) is one of my favorites in the series

also fandom hot take as i guess i am doing those for everyone- but ppl either have him as cosntantly trying to murder giorno or being like good son and v out of character, and it is really weird? not sayign that ill do better when i write them but also like im convinced some ppl havent seen the show or smth

i will steal both him and bruno and marry them both <3

this man is beloved i love him to death

10/10

Pannacotta Fugo:

i cannot spell his first name to save my life

also fandom take- ppl make him constantly only angry boy all the time and it really irks me. ik araki did not give him 2 much to work w in terms of canon personality but its frustrating

the light novel purple haze feedback is so so so good and adds sm to his character and i really like it for that!

fugo is one of those that imo deserves a lot and didnt get that

genuinely the vibes between how he treats narancia is v interesting to me, like its clear he cares about nara but nara not doing great w math really frustrates him

i love their interactions and how he is genuinely a kind person at times

the manga colors r superior here, my strawberry boy <3

i just really love and appreciate him a lot and wish that ppl gave him more love

i keep getting assigned him on kin quizzes

very smart good boy

ALSO ok fugo did not do any wrong by leaving

unsure if thats a hot take but i genuinely dont blame the character one bit for leaving and again purple haze feedback really delves into that and why he did it

if ur a fugo fan go read it

his past is really upsetting esp in the anime i will cry over it

his stand is adorable and i wanna hug it

his vibes r fun and i wanna gift him strawberry dangly earrings

8/10

Narancia Ghirga:

this boy i am also adopting (i am adopting most of them sorry)

i really hate how ppl act as if hes stupid bc bad math skills do not equal stupid like did ppl not see the fight w formaggio??

the way he just fucking dove into the water after the boat and how brunos face went all soft and happy it will never not make me cry

he is constnatnly making me wanna cry if i think too much about him for 2 seconds i love him sm

how can anyone not adore him when he set an entire street on fire yk

hes just happy despite his past and it makes me sad i love nara sm

torture dance is one of my favorite memes from the show

ALSO ok the way he died so suddenly absolutely broke me bc the remaining team members r really just seeing everyone die in front of them so quickly

his goofy and laid back moments r my fave

i love just how loyal and caring he is to his friends

his stand is really cool and again the fight w formaggio was so fun to watch

8/10

Guido Mista:

probably my least favorite member of the team for a semi good reason:

the jokes towards trish are really really uncomfy and how fugo doesnt wanna be involved but he is pushing him to do something that makes him uncomfortable did not make me like him a lot

hes goofy but not goofy enough for me to be ok with the repeated jokes about that esp in the body swap episode (ik it was supposed to be funny but it just felt off)

his vibes r good but i wish we got to see his hair

the fandom interpretation is normally pretty good of him overall?

despite not loving him a lot, i really enjoying writing for him (one day might open up headcanon requests or smth but unsure)

hes someone id wanna watch movies w but his taste in movies and mine r very different

love how he and his stand get along

honestly has very very good comedic potential

i really like how he and giorno interact as the series goes on (in a platonic way i need to clarify that i love their friendship)

again him in purple haze feedback was really interesting

probably a 5/10?

Trish Una:

beloved and deserved better

her first outfit in the manga > outfit in the anime

actually in general i believe in manga trish superiority like her hair in the manga looks so cool

her stand her stand her stand i love sm

if u dont include trish in the group i am murdering u <3

HER CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!!!! IS SO GOOD!!!!!!

fandom gripe is how people either pretend she does not exist or has the trish first introduction thing where shes using her defense mechanisms and acting a bit spoiled

OK but her in purple haze feedback!!! mild spoilers but how bruno was taking care of her post the ending of vento aureo makes me so happy each time i think of it

very mad that she canonically didnt really get an ending and yet again PHF my beloved actually gave her that

how spice girl starts out as a stand thats helping her thru a very stressful situation is so cool and i love it

DAD BRUNO DAD BRUNO DAD BRUNO *frothes at the mouth*

but more seriously how she leans on bruno and begins 2 trust him and nearly point blank is referring to him as a father figure always fucks me up

esp because of the resulting fight afterwards

and the very ending of the arc that ends w bruno being like bye gonna go in the clouds and look ethereal now, oh man it makes me so sad

bc giorno is the only one that knew what happened and people that were closer to bruno due to knowing him longer didnt

i wanna see how trish coped w that personally

despite being introduced not at the beginning i think her arc and character in general were as well paced as it could be!

9/10

finally done! sorry that took so long but oh man i have so many feelings towards these guys its not even funny

[relaxxattack]

ayo! (wait this might be a bit of a jumpscare dishdks i apologize) i’m op of That Post and was wondering what your opinions were on the whole woobification thing? /gen

because it’s a Tiny Bit widespread within the dream apologists to sort of,, overdramatize stuff like l’manberg hurting him. like they’re not a 100% wrong but if you look at it subjectively you can see some sort of bias going into that sort of thing that makes the character’s mistreatment a bit more blatant and intentional which,, it really wasn’t? and there wasn’t That Much of it either. especially on twitter (tumblr is much better about it) people just jump to conclusions it seems and yeah. since you brought it up i was wondering if you wanted to write a bit about it from your perspective!

we’re kinda from different corners of the fandom but i still notice that once you are too attached to a character you start taking certain evidence and giving it more weight than it actually has. there’s a blurry line between “taking away a character’s humanity” and woobification and it’s extremely difficult to find a balance when said character shows pretty much nothing of his emotional life (e. g. putting up the intimidating villain act in front of only c!tommy, pretty much everything he does making rational sense with no emotional subtext) and a lot of the fandom instantly jumps to one side or the other while it’s like.

we don’t know by far enough to say “he’s traumatized” or “he isn’t traumatized” or “he was villainized and it hurt him” or “l’manberg didn’t affect him at all”

as a very analytical person people constantly jumping to conclusions grinds my gears, but that’s about it for my own view of the situation - sorry for the rambling.

in general i agree with you that both dehumanization and woobification is Bad and i really hope getting Actual Context sorts this out (e. g. him saying he was betrayed by his friends doesn’t mean it wasn’t partially his fault or that they were allowed to leave him, but it also shows that he did care about that happening. mentioning the cat doesn’t mean anything about what happened to c!tommy but it also shows that he did care about what happened to it. it’s just always interesting to get more information about the way he feels because he usually does a very good job at hiding it.) because man.

it’s like being stuck between a rock and a hard place, especially if you also are attached to the character and are expected to automatically agree with everything the people on “your side” say. it just ends up with everyone being mad and the character being mischaracterised overall.

oh wow hello! i didnt expect the op of the post to find me you’re right lol

and yes i agree! you seem to have a lot of very good thoughts tbh.

and by woobification, i mean exactly what you’ve already pointed out— the people who will say l’manberg purposely villainized dream, the people who will say wilbur faked his mental illness to manipulate dream, the people who are pretty much always talking about how badly dream was treated by people who were acting only fairly for themselves, usually.

for example people who act like dream was a perfect peacemaker before tommy showed up, or that tommy started most conflict. these are just actual lies that are told by c!dream himself to justify his abuse of tommy, and people fall for them incredibly easily because not a lot of people watched early dsmp and know that truthfully it was chaotic even then, and that dream was chaotic too. not to mention wilbur soot tried very hard to secede peacefully with l’manberg and dream jumped directly into war with no warning. and then people say he was forced into their war when, no, he started it.

theres also people who will say like, dream and sapnap for example are such good friends. i’m sure they cared for each other, but dream on multiple occasions has done horrible things to sapnap with no regard for his feelings (like leading fundy to sapnaps pets during the petwar, leading tommy to sapnaps pets during the other petwar and encouraging him to kill them, handing mars over to tommy to use as leverage against sapnap, etc). george he’s been less awful too but he certainly spoke over him and ignored his feelings enough that george felt hurt. he had places in his hall of attachments for beckerson and mars. george and sapnap were right to walk away from being treated like that.

there’s also what you just said here — “dream puts on a villain persona for tommy”— but honestly he acts like that around quite a few people (example: eret) and it’s usually when he’s revealing crucial info, which leads me and many others to believe that ‘persona’ is actually a more truthful version of him.

there’s the fact that he really isn’t safe for people to be around (or at least he wasn't before the prison) because he was planning to come up with ways to control every single person by stealing and threatening their attachments (some of which were not items but were living animals, or a real breathing person).

and then people will say dream was doing exile to enforce rules, or to keep the peace— when it’s very clear in canon it was a deliberate plan to get tommy on his own and into the prison. (from the way he was framing tommy for multiple crimes, and having sam set up the prison, and kidnapping tommy instead of correctly exiling him, all at the same time).

not even going into how he wants to kill and revive people for fun or make tommy immortal.

it’s just— ignoring all these actual facts and saying “oh he misses his friends, let’s get him some friends now” reminds me of like. when people would put flower crowns on pictures of serial killers. and then, there’s hardly anyone on the server who wasn’t subject to dream’s plans, so there’s absolutely no one i would be okay with him interacting with.

just remembered about the torture thing, and wow i still hate it so much. it’s someone’s sick revenge fantasy twisted into a way to get a manipulative villain sympathy, and it’s just gross to me on every account. i do think dream is traumatized-- just not by l’manberg, which was a conflict he started on his own terms. i would think l’manberg did affect him, because he was scared of losing control.

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again— my ideal ending for dream would be for him to be sent far away from dsmp to an island full of therapy animals and super strong therapists who have never met him before. and for him to get a shit ton of therapy until he becomes a halfway normal person. and then eventually he could get integrated into society again; but a different one with new people. (although maybe dteam + bbh + puffy can visit him, they might still like him.)

none of the people on the server (who have all been affected by dream) should be burdened with befriending him or rehabilitating him— look how that turned out with sam! sam had a personal grudge towards dream and it ended with the poor dude being tortured every day; and sam himself falling into corruption and literally cutting off his boyfriends arm. like we can all see thats fucking awful right?

no one who was affected by dream should have to deal with him ever again. and contrary to popular belief, that includes a LOT more people then just tommy. dream isn’t just tommy’s antagonist, hes almost everybody’s.

the only person on the server who might also be able to stand to help dream is techno, and that’s from sheer lack of ability to give a shit. but techno is probably THE furthest thing from a good therapist there is lol, and dream needs better then that.

this kind of just ended up being a rant about my thoughts on c!dream, so im so sorry op. especially since it was probably negative for you. i hope you’re doing very well.

i guess in the end it’s true what you said— people will highlight or ignore things based on what characters they like, and it’s especially easy to do in this fandom, where half the content doesn’t even get watched and then we become a big echo chamber of half-truths.

considering dream has hurt so many of the characters i care about, i almost can’t understand how he could be someone’s favorite or comfort character— but he is nonetheless, and it would be unfair of me to be rude about that.

essentially it just bothers me to see someone who was a perpetrator of accurately portrayed abuse and manipulation (using both those words in their actual definitions, not just as random buzzwords lol) being given the flower crown edit effect. especially since he’s hurt the characters i care about a lot.

ANYWAY all of that being said (this got LONG im so sorry op) i am so so excited to get dream’s pov, because although i disagree with his actions strongly i actually find dream’s character very interesting and cool, and watching his POV is going to insanely fun. i cannot wait to see what theories get confirmed or denied

ALSO incase it wasn’t clear this is all /nm at you! you seem lovely and smart, and neither of us can help what characters we get attached to :]

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Hopelessness of Wanting [Part 2]

<- Part 1 | Part 3 ->

Frederick Chilton x Reader

Continuation of an angsty dark fic request. 

Warnings: suicidal thoughts/attempt (I made myself real sad with this one so be warned if you’re vulnerable to negative thinking), NSFW, smut (gender-neutral), unhealthy relationship, depression, neurodivergent reader. Melancholy rambling. 

3,200 words

“Don’t worry about what Dr. Chilton thinks,” Nurse Clerval advised as soon as he was out of earshot. “He’s an asshole.”

“Yeah, but”—you tugged the hem of your scrubs—“He’s right. I keep messing up. I think he hates me.” You stopped there, too ashamed to admit you were the biggest fuck-up on the entire staff, new or not, or that you could tell Dr. Chilton regretted his decision to hire you.

“And the rest of us hate him. Just keep doing your job, learn the ropes—he’ll back off.”

You nodded silently and continued your rounds, delivering meds and checking in on patients. Amy had to be restrained again when she wouldn’t stop biting. Julianne seemed more confused lately, though you hadn’t known any of them long enough to tell what was normal.

Clerval’s words hung over you. It didn’t seem right that everyone hated Dr. Chilton. He was a little brusque, yes, but intelligent. Wickedly sarcastic. Posturing and puffing himself up whenever people he admired came to visit the hospital, and he wanted badly to impress them. Lonely.

Your cheeks heated at the thought of those intense bursts of green under his brow—the first thing you noticed when he conducted your interview. His eyes almost matched the light green scrubs you wore at the hospital you trained in, though the uniform here was white (as if leaning into the One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest vibe.)

But what drew you in wasn’t that his eyes were beautiful—though they were—it was the way they made contact with yours. Staring you down with fake confidence, as if he were forcing it. That stare must have been off-putting to most people, but it made your spirit leap with that particular spark of connection one only feels when finding a kindred spirit.

“Hey! Still sulking? Hurry it up,” Clerval called, jolting you to attention. You trotted after.

It was nice having a mentor on the staff, but at the same time, it just felt like having another person to eventually disappoint.

“Here! What’s next?” you beamed.

***

Dr. Chilton didn’t back off over the next few weeks as Nurse Clerval suggested. The more you thought you were getting the hang of routines at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, the more mistakes you seemed to make, and the harder its administrator came down on you. And the more the handsome, scarred Dr. Chilton hated you, the more nervous mistakes you made.

In nursing school, you aced everything technical. Every written test. Every memorized statistic, sterilization procedure, medication instruction, and anatomy diagram. But when it came to interacting with patients and families—being compassionate yet professional—nothing came naturally. As a child, you learned how to fake eye contact by staring at the bridge of someone’s nose. How to smile bright and encourage others so they don’t reject you. So they don’t see you as cold or weird. But sometimes, you felt like an alien just parroting human behavior.

The guy you had been dating when you started working at the BSHCI said something similar to you when he broke it off. That you were “unavailable” and never understood what he needed.

There was a reason your first choice job was at a hospital where the only patients were mentally ill murderers.

Dr. Frederick Chilton was the same way. Just better at hiding it, or braver about not caring when his mannerisms rubbed people the wrong way. He didn’t fall apart like you did. He was… incredible. As soon as you met him, you knew you wanted the job. His smile was forced but friendly that first day, and you went home dreaming about getting to know him better.

But as soon as you were hired, the friendliness went out of his eyes. On your very first day, you passed him in the hall and smiled. He frowned and informed you that you were five minutes late clocking in. Everything—every forgotten ID card and typo on a patient file—was proof to Dr. Chilton that you were incompetent.

Worthless.

He even pointed it out when you couldn’t stand up for yourself and let Nurse Clerval defend you.

Pathetic.

Why did you ever think someone like him might like you?

He wasn’t an asshole. The constant reprimanding and disciplinary write-ups were no more than you deserved. It just hurt coming from someone you admired and wished things could be different with.

God, you wished just once he would smile at you again. Tell you that you did a good job.

Your fist hovered over the dark mahogany of the carved doors to Dr. Chilton’s office, poised to knock. To tender your resignation. You hadn’t seen the extravagant interior of his office since your interview, but you could imagine him in there: laying back on the leather couch sipping a Scotch, surrounded by tall shelves of medical books and sculpted wall molding. The air filled with the library smell of old paper.

In your imagination, his cold green eyes would soften, and he would ask why you were leaving. Apologize for being so hard on you. The Chilton in your mind clasped your hand, and you both blushed, wondering if the gesture was merely a show of professional support, or if it held a deeper meaning. He clasped tighter instead of dropping your hand, knowing— understanding—the heat behind your gaze.

A dull thud came from inside the office, followed by footsteps and a muttering voice, muffled through the door. The footsteps started heading your way, and you walked briskly down the hall toward the exit, not looking back when a moment later, the mahogany doors creaked open.

Coward.

There was no point quitting, anyway. You would never find another hospital job as slow-paced, where you rarely had to speak with outsiders—only the regular long-term patient-inmates, and a small staff of orderlies, guards, nurses, and psychiatrists.

Sometimes you thought you should quit nursing altogether, but then what would you do? Flip burgers? You’d be bad at that, too. There was nothing you wouldn’t be a failure at.

A fog hovered over you, creeping its tendrils into every thought, turning every tiny setback into the end of the world, and making every success unimportant. Leaving BSHCI wouldn’t make it better. Nothing would make it better. You were the fuck-up. Anywhere you went, the problem would always be you.

Every smile you gave was forced, but you kept smiling as if everything was normal. So long as nobody could see you drowning, it wasn’t real. There was still hope that you could get your shit together, and no one would be the wiser that you were actually a disgusting piece of human trash. So long as you could smile like you were fine, you weren’t a complete failure.

But the more you pretended to be upbeat—pretended to be someone likable—the more you were certain your coworkers didn’t like you. They must have been sick of covering for you by now.

A week later, the nurse you were replacing grunted, “Finally,” as you sprinted through the door three minutes after your shift started. That one unremarkable interaction was the final proof of a theory you had been nursing for a long time:

Everyone’s lives would be easier without you.

That was the final conclusion, the final, creeping thought the suffocating fog wormed into your head. The crescendo of a distorted symphony that had been subtly building to this from the beginning.

You couldn’t force yourself to smile anymore.

***

You didn’t have authorized access to the medication supply room, but you swiped a key from Dr. Tenley’s office. For a secure facility, the doctors of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane were lax about locking their own offices. She would notice it was missing by Monday morning, and there would be serious repercussions for stealing it, but you weren’t concerned. You wouldn’t be around to face them.

With the high-potency drugs available in a hospital and a working knowledge of pharmacology, ending a life could be quick and relatively painless.

The key clicked in the door. You glanced up and down the hallway to make sure no one was coming. But the coast was clear.

A halfhearted breath puffed from your nose. Part of you wanted to find it funny how easy this was, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to laugh.

You stealthily opened the windowless metal door, stepped inside, and shut and locked it behind you without making a sound. Once inside the small room, you let out a silent sigh of relief (or despair). Only a handful of people had a key, so you were unlikely to be interrupted, especially at night with only a skeleton staff on duty.

There were three rows of tall storage shelves crammed into the walk-in closet with clean tile in the few places wall was exposed. The whir of a climate-control system drowned out the pulse in your ears as you scanned for the drugs you were looking for.

You found them faster than expected. They could have at least been hidden. The universe could have put a few more obstacles in your path, but instead, the universe was giving you a big fat sign it wanted you dead.

You picked up the packaging. Turned it over in your hand.

Just a handful of these, and all the problems you cause would be over. No more reprimands. No more disappointing everyone you meet. No more wrenching in your gut every time Dr. Chilton looks at you with contempt when you long to see a smile. No more trying so hard every minute of every day.

It wasn’t like too many people would be sad you were gone anyway. Most of them will be relieved.

Your eyes stung.

Wasn’t someone going to walk in and stop you?

Your lip trembled. Why would anyone want to stop you?

Tears rolled down your face as the reality of your plan set in. Survival instinct kicked and clawed at the cloying fog of twisted logic that promised you would be helping everyone if you stopped existing, but it was losing the battle.

And then you heard someone call your name.

You sniffed and looked up. No… not someone calling your name. Moaning it. You crept to the last row of shelves at the back and gasped—Dr. Chilton had his laptop tucked onto a shelf and was watching a clip of security feed on loop. His red, glistening erection thick in his hand as he masturbated, whimpering your name over and over.

You watched silently—he was so engrossed he didn’t notice your shadow falling over the aisle. It was only when the package of drugs slipped from your hand and clattered on the floor that he jumped with a shriek, covering himself, though his massive erection was still conspicuous in his pants. His eyes bugged out at you, face red with embarrassment—but then they quickly narrowed to anger.

“What are you doing in here? You are not authorized to be in this room,” he barked.

All you could think about was what you heard—the name gasping from his lips. It overpowered every other thought. “Were you… imagining me?”

His nostrils flared. He hastily shut the laptop which was looping security footage of you outside his office door.

Then he laughed—forced and cruel. “What I imagine is not your concern. Do not read into it. I have never shown you special treatment, have I? Do you think that I could have feelings for an incompetent nurse?”

“I know that!” Your lip trembled again now that the briefest spark of hope you had was shattered. Of course he didn’t like you. He was just a pervert who jacked off to all the nurses. “Don’t you think I know that I’m worthless? You’ve made it abundantly clear.”

Fresh tears rolled down your cheeks, and Chilton’s eyes softened, as if for the first time realizing that all his attempts to hurt you had succeeded. You were hurt. And he did not enjoy it as much as he thought.

“You are not worthless,” he said quietly. Then his eyes flicked down to the floor, at the medication you dropped. He picked it up, read what it was. His expression fell. “What were you doing in here, nurse?” he swallowed.

“Nothing. I just… needed something for a patient.”

“Lie,” he said.

You looked away. Everything was numb. It barely even occurred to you that someone stopped you after all. A handsome, awkward, cruel doctor you admired was in the same room with you and had said his first kind words since the day you met.

He took a slow step toward you. Then another. His hand—slender and surprisingly large—pressed your arm in an attempt at a comforting gesture. An alien parroting human behavior.

“You are not worthless. I assure you, none of your mistakes have been grievous. You are certainly not the least competent of my staff. Far from it. So don’t…” He swallowed. “…Do not do anything rash.”

“Sure,” you scoffed. “Then why am I the one you’re always reprimanding? The one always being called to your office?” You knew what he thought of you; he was just trying to talk you down.

“That…” he began in a broken voice, “That must be painfully obvious now.”

Your eyes peeled away from the floor and found his face, and the storm of emotions flashing over it. Shame. Trepidation. A faint light of hope.

“You like me?” Your voice sounded far away. The analytical part of your brain was whirring away above the swamp of depression bogging you down with lies that nobody could like you. But it made sense. As the words spilled from your mouth, it was like a veil lifted.

Pulling pigtails. He was pulling your pigtails because he liked you. A middle-aged psychiatrist ought to have more emotional maturity handling a crush than a third-grader, but there was a reason he worked at a hospital where the only patients were mentally ill murderers. There was a reason his staff hated him. Why he was lonely, and why you desperately wanted to be the one to fill the empty space by his side.

Frederick Chilton was a lot like you.

You could understand each other and be less alone in this world, together.

***

His eyes were closed and he was muttering something self-flagellating and vaguely apologetic when the kinetic sense of you moving closer caused Frederick Chilton to look up.

No longer out at arm’s distance, you were within each other’s breathing space. And now, he was genuinely terrified—terrified you were going to return his feelings. Of the joy it might bring crashing down on him like an airplane. He read something he never expected to see in your body language, and it shook him deeper than being walked in on with his cock in his hands.

You should have reported him for ethics violations.

If you made the case to the hospital board that he created a hostile work environment because he wanted you sexually, he would lose his job and do everybody a favor.

But this—the intention in your body—this was the farthest thing from what he deserved. You confirmed his fear when your soft, perfect lips melded against his. Yet, as always when he knew a thing was wrong, he did not push you away. Did nothing to stop you. He let you deepen the kiss slowly, and you were warm, the taste of you sweeter than he imagined in all his lonely nights of fantasizing.

His cock twitched, your closeness awakening his urges again. He moaned as your lips parted, his lips parting with them, and your tongue gently probed inside. You were tentative at first, investigating only the nearest reaches of his inner lips, and then his hand spasmed on your arm, and with a low growl, he pulled your closer—then you became ravenous. All the turbulent emotions churning within you broke free in that kiss. You sobbed into his mouth, your tongue, hot and fervent, explored and assaulted the depths of him, your hands weaving into the hair behind his neck, and he could taste your salt. It was all his tongue could do to keep up—to let himself be consumed.

Dear god, if only that passion would have ended him then and there. The moment your lips met his in an unexpected act of reciprocation was the fulfillment of every want, every tattered and twisted hope—the highest delight a man such as him could achieve. And he knew—rightly so—that all that could follow was suffering of his own design.

Dear god, let me die before I see this in ruins. Let me die with my happiness.

***

The sex wasn’t all that good. But then again, you had gone into that supply closet intending to never come out, so overall, being fucked by the man you had been pining for was a positive turn of events.

It wasn’t how you’d imagined your first time with Dr. Chilton, pressed against a cold tile wall. A hungry kiss led to his clothed erection pushing against your thigh, led to you unbuckling his belt.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he whispered hoarsely, nervous eyes darkened with lust—and you nodded, sliding down your scrub pants, which stuck on your sneakers, hobbling your ankles. He was in too much of a rush to let you take them off—he only opened up his slacks and pulled his cock out of the fly of his briefs. And then he was thrusting into you from behind—frantic, desperate. Your ankles being bound only added to the thrill of him being in control. Dr. Chilton wanted you after all—fantasized about you—and now he was taking you, and all you had to do was surrender to his desire.

His breathy moans rose with each snap of his hips, his hands traveling up your chest under your shirt, fingers curling around your neck, possessing you. Touching every inch of skin he could get his hands on. And that noise that saved your life, your name on his lips, he chanted in your ear.

He was fast—hips racing as if this were his only chance, and if he waited, you would disappear—and he finished fast. You didn’t spend long with your face pressed to the cold tile when his moans broke into a shattered scream, and his head slumped, sweaty, against your back.

Then he turned you around to face him and got on his knees. Heedless of his own mess that he’d left sticky and bitter inside you, he pumped his fingers into you and sucked like he was fulfilling a duty. Clinical about the task, and efficient. It didn’t take him long to bring your arousal to a climax in his mouth.

After, he was quiet. When you had cleaned up, he looked at you like you were a mistake… only you weren’t certain what kind of mistake. If you reached out to reassure him, would he jerk away and tell you to never speak of this again?

“Was it… all you expected?” you asked robotically. Your arm crossed your body, hugging yourself.

And then he kissed you again, softly. He ran his fingers over your hair and pulled back just far enough to study your face. His eyes were wet, clouded with a million thoughts and regrets you would only learn about later.

“You are perfect,” he whispered.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Since I went some places this chapter... Please don’t bottle up your feelings if they’re telling you horrible things about yourself. They aren’t true, I promise. You matter. ❤️

Call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255

Online chat: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/chat/

Help via Text: https://www.crisistextline.org/ (Text HOME to 741741)

List of additional resources: https://www.healthline.com/health/mental-health/suicide-resource-guide 

Tags:

@beccabarba​ / @itsjustmyfantasyroom / @thatesqcrush / @dianilaws / @permanentlydizzy / @mrsrafaelbarba / @madamsnape921 / @astrangegirlsmind / @neely1177 / @onerestein / @dreamlover31 / @stormtrooperofficerbrowneyes / @barbasimp / @storiesofsvu / @welcometothemxdhouse / @feedthemadness-sweetie / @law-nerd105 / @amelia-song-pond / @michael-rooker / @xecq 

[oldsmobile-hotdogs]

Questions for crossover jatp ghosts crossover fic: I hope Julian and the sunset curve boys talk about the fall of the Berlin Wall and the Yugoslav wars that happened when they were alive + Bill Cilnton. I wonder what pat and the band would talk about considering that they would of been kids when pat died? Do you think Julie would think of Les Mis and Hamilton cos Thomas and Kitty are from about the same time period as those musicals? I hope Julie calls Fanny Mary poppins.

Anon, or "Mimi", or "Lulu", or, heck, maybe even "Carl Birtles": Update: Not Carl Birtles. Carl Birtles sent me an ask and is cool, actually.

Stop. Right now. I'd say stop while you're ahead, but you are so far away from ahead at this point it's laughable.

For everyone confused, this is that "commenter from AO3" I joked about making a 2017-esque story time video about.

A couple days ago I uploaded the first chapter of a Julie and the Phantoms/BBC Ghosts crossover fic.

You know what? I’m gonna promo it here bc it’s my callout post and I can shill if I want to: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30681704/chapters/76661471

It was generally very well received and I've had a blast interacting with readers.

Except for this.

Honestly, there's so much to get into, so I’m putting it under a cut:

This was their first correspondence (email notif bc I deleted the comment, the deletion to be explained later):

(Funnily enough, the links very much do not work on AO3, making the comment only more jarring)

I gave you *so much* benefit of the doubt when I saw this comment, and assumed that maybe you're an ESL user, just very enthusiastic to share ideas, and I pretty much said so in my reply, but know that at that point I'd already had friends- who fucking know about this, don't you dare think you're getting me alone- tell me that you were being very demanding.

Below was my reply (another email notif):

I'm gonna be honest, I think I responded really well to what I was given, and now that I'd replied, I was pretty certain the situation was dealt with. You, evidently, didn't agree, as shown by your reply to my reply:

A word of advice: when replying to someone, at least pretend like you read what they wrote.

At this point I'm left wondering two things:

What do they expect from me, if a general reply is not it?

How much more shit do they have waiting to tell me to put in my- reminder, JATP/BBC Ghosts crossover, rated T, comedic- fic?

In order to avoid finding out either, I freeze the thread on AO3. I'm liveblogging all of this on Discord.

It's then that I notice that the username on AO3 isn't clickable, so even if I wanted to block or report them I couldn't. I assume, therefore, that they've deactivated, and since them seeing their comments gone and getting angry was the only thing stopping me deleting the comments, I delete the comments.

It's also at this point I see "Mimi" never left kudos. I guess I don't deserve praise until I mention "Bill Cilnton".

There's relative calm for a short amount of time, until I get another comment:

This one is much kinder than the others and doesn't mention any specific, weird, historical events, so the extent to which I think this is "Mimi" is debatable, but bestie I'm weirded out enough that anything that even uses the enter bar unnecessarily and misses out conjunctive words like "because" and "and" is going to activate fight or flight. Update: Carl Birtles is not Mimi or Lulu. Carl was just being genuinely kind and I misinterpreted it and that's on me.

However, "Carl"'s case is not helped by the fact I can't click his account either, that AO3 offers me the ability to report it as spam, and that guess who replies to "Carl"'s comment: Update: Carl, having done nothing wrong as he has, is therefore also a victim in the situation that is being replied to by Lulu. It would seem Lulu is trying to correct??? some of Carl's commentary.

You must think I didn't get a 7 on my English Literature GCSE because you seem to underestimate my ability to compare two texts.

So clearly this is "Mimi", who has also just replied to "Carl". "Lulu" is also deactivated, and I've fallen off the end of my tether, let alone reached it, at this point so I mark it as spam. "Carl" gets to stay bc he said the idea for the crossover was good. Update: Carl also gets to continue to stay because I have it on good faith that he's a stand-up dude.

So at this point you've readily admitted through your inability to shake up your writing style to using at least one sockpuppet to convince me to talk about the "Yugoslav wars".

If "Carl Birtles" is the real(-est) of them, and "Mimi" and "Lulu" are the sockpuppets, by the way, I have questions and ideas about what you do on your free evenings and I want them neither confirmed nor answered. Update: This is slanderous and I want to apologise wholeheartedly to Carl for making assumptions about him and judging his character. Once again, he is not Mimi or Lulu. He's just a normal, cool guy.

And now you come to me, on the day of my daughter's wedding on a different platform, leave me an anon ask in the exact same format as you're so fond of, and expect any different ??

Well, yeah, then I guess I'll give you special treatment this time.

Here's exactly why I will never include anything you have told me to include:

Julian and the Phantoms discussing the Berlin Wall would be highly inappropriate for the largely fluffy, cracky tone of my fanfiction, especially given how recently the event occurred, how many Eastern Germans still experience prejudice to this day because they were born within the old borders of the DDR, and because of how nuanced this, essentially proxy war, was and how ill-informed a huge amount of the world is on the actual factors in play during this time and the Cold War in general.

Julian and the Phantoms will not discuss Yugoslavia dissolving, nor the fallout and conflict that resulted, because it was genocidal. There is nowhere I can fit Julian, pantsted, casually asking Luke “hey do you remember when the Herzegovinas were killed en masse by the Serbs?” Not gonna happen.

They won’t discuss Bill Clinton because all of them know who the current world leaders are: they don’t have amnesia, they’re ghosts. The fic is also rated T, so it would be inappropriate to make any explicit reference to “sexual relations”. None of them play saxophone.

Julie wouldn’t think of Les Mis or Hamilton because Thomas is Regency, not French Revolution, and Kitty is Georgian, not Colonial.

Julie won’t be calling Fanny Mary Poppins because she is perpetually stuck in a white dress, doesn’t wear a hat, doesn’t own an umbrella or a purse and was not the nanny or housekeeper of Button House.

The ghosts will not discuss the marvels of modern transportation or how long it would’ve taken to cross the Atlantic on dinghy because the ghosts have seen Friends. The house irl is on a flight path. They know airplanes exist. Alison and Mike pulled up in a car.

I will probably have the phantoms and Willie talk to Pat and Julian about being from the ‘80s and ‘90s. That I will actually probably do.

The Captain will not mention FD Roosevelt because, again, they all know who the current world leaders are, and I doubt he expects a ‘90s pop punk band to have any insider knowledge on the man.

It was interesting to think of the phantoms’ grandparents having been alive during WW2. I wasn’t lying. But there is nearly nothing I can do with this information.

But above all: both sets of ghosts have already adapted to modern life. Because the shows are shorter, and meant to actually be able to fit jokes in them.

If you want to see any of this, write your own damn fic. I don’t own the concept of a JATP/BBC Ghosts crossover.

What you will not do, “consonant-vowel-consonant-vowel”-nim, is hound me on multiple accounts and then change platform to hound me again. I’m absolutely not having it.

I have never received an interaction quite like this before, and I cannot help but wonder if this is because this is my first work in the Ghosts/HH/Them There/Six Idiots/Yonderland/Bill fandom: that this is where you primarily camp out.

So it’s at this point I ask the Them There/Six Idiots fandom if they have/if they know anyone who has had a run-in with this person or thinks they may have, or if anyone perhaps even knows who this is? Maybe I’m just one of many. Maybe this is a necessary fandom evil I was unaware of.

This experience has left me royally freaked out, as one might imagine, especially since my anxiety in general has been acting up due to it being exam season. I want to thank everyone who’s read my rambles on Discord and on here and even listened to them irl and offered support from the bottom of my heart.

I’ve enabled comment moderation on the fic. I will continue to write it, and I will put exactly what I, and only what I, want in it.

Believe it or not, I wanted to do literally anything else today.

Anon: Fucking Leave Me Alone.

Update: Just reiterating: Carl is not Mimi or Lulu. Carl is a cool dude and I want to sincerely apologise for having brought him into this mess, passing judgment on his character, and making him feel like he should stop practicing English online.

[frienderbender]

hey frienderbender is it ok to ask for some lore/information on your magpickles 🥺 I’m very invested in those goods ( off the topic but can I just say I am in LOVE with the way you draw Skwisgaar my heart is just fluttering to fast when I see him 🥺💞 Anyways muah you’re wonderful artist thank you have a lovely day/evening )

oh sure! first off thank you so much for the sweet message! that made my night :'] i love drawing skwisgaar and im glad you like how he looks in my style haha

anyways im assuming youre talking about my general lore for them in the canon timeline, so ill talk about that under the cut

i think they first met some time in the late 80s while pickles was still with snb. they met after a show specifically. magnus introduced himself as a fan, and that was true! but (quick tangent for some general mag thoughts) it brings up something that ive always thought about when i look at mag. magnus definitely gives off the vibe of being the guy who was always just Around in the music scene, especially in the rock and metal scene of this era. like, hes a mysterious dude but he has connections. he will play with random bands sometimes. he knows so many fucking people in this industry (not saying hes friends with all of them though); what im trying to say is. Everyone Has A Magnus Hammersmith Story. hes the type of guy that gets talked about in podcasts decades down the line. ok all that to say he was able to get backstage because he just Knows People. and he introduces himself as a fan blah blah pickles and magnus drink and do some drugs and honestly i wouldnt be surprised if they at the very least made out with each other the first night they met.

so pickles is like, pretty into him right off the bat. magnus was too, but i think on his end INITIALLY he was more just interested in hooking up but they exchange info and keep in touch and all that. so. this is RIGHT before snb implodes. and theyre still meeting up fairly regularly and becoming closer and doing a lot of drugs and drinking a bunch. typical rockstar stuff.

but pickles had been on a steady downward spiral at this point (he was already like this before he met magnus), and in one night snb is no more. having burned all those bridges in his band (for now), pickles turns to his only friend left: magnus. and i think its at this point, when pickles comes to him, wrecked by the dissolution of his band, that magnus kinda starts to realize he might actually feel something for him too? seeing him like this, seeing pickles from fucking snakes n barrels, so raw and real and not at all like the fiery redhead he met that night after their show...it just feels different somehow. like yeah he was attracted to pickles from snakes n barrels, but he realized he had grown to care about pickles from tomahawk wisconsin. he liked that one better, there was no bullshit. no hiding beneath layers of glam makeup and hairspray.

so its the two of them against the world. its the early 90s at this point. on a whim, pickles decides they should leave LA and just drive. wherever. just away from the city because LA fucking sucks. he takes all his money and he and magnus get in his car and just start driving. they end up in florida eventually, because its the other side of the country. or something. they get an apartment, and for a couple of months they live together and its. kinda nice. its different, for sure. but not bad. magnus and pickles both always kinda skirted around the topic of their relationship. they never called the other their boyfriend. but i feel strongly that they did tell each other that they loved the other, once. and they meant it.

so heres where things get tricky for me. how did dethklok form? what was the order? who met who first? i dont know!! i wish i knew! its something i have a million scenarios for and i wish we got a canon order of the members joining at the very least so i can model my headcanons around it haha

with that in mind though, i do think magnus and pickles were a bit of a package deal. like, whoever joined first was able to get the other in. so. yeah. they joined dethklok some time in the early to mid 90s now.

they have a pretty decent few years. theyre still.......something....even in their new band. like they arent open about it and hook up when the other guys arent around and all that.

its around this time though that i think magnus is really starting to go through it. combination of feeling frustrated because of the bands status at this point, general untreated mental health, etc. anyways i think the stabbing incident occurred some time in the mid 90s, probably like '95 or '96 or something. so.....he gets kicked out. obviously. and those are the terms they end on for awhile.........

but uh. you see. pickles never completely cut ties with the dude because. well. what do you do when this happens to someone you care so deeply about. and i think probably a month or so later, magnus actually contacts him for the first time since the stabbing incident. and maybe i have a comic script and thumbnails about this encounter what about it. magnus tells him he wants to see him, so pickles slips out that night to meet up at an old bar they used to go to a lot. may or may not be the depths of humanity uhhh anyway. theyre talking for awhile but it just kinda devolves into honestly more one-sided arguing on pickles end. hes frustrated and sad and confused because fuck! magnus! why would you do that? why, when the bands just starting to take off? it becomes this whole like. you arent the same guy i knew. and in that moment it quietly hits them both that like. we arent who we were, and we dont know what to do about that. magnus asks if pickles would want to join him and leave the band, and pickles tells him to go fuck himself. and thats the last thing he ever said to him.

and thats where the magpickles lore/relationship timeline ends. i realize it really did kinda turn into a timeline but also i did write a timeline during a slow day at work once like two months ago but. anyways. this is basically that.

but uh. yes. i love them. they make me sad but in a good way yknow. its like. its one of those situations where i feel like under different circumstances, they probably couldve made it work in their own weird way. they have such a specific dynamic, whether in their background together in the canon timeline or just me fucking around with AUs and being like hmm what if i actually gave them a scenario where they could have the time to develop AS an actual couple. im rambling but i just love these two so much. this is so long.

i feel strongly they wouldnt get back together in any sort of canon capacity, but i do think they still have feelings for each other in that way you do when you remember people you loved in the past. old friendships that dissolved with no resolution. the person you still have things you want to tell them, even though you know you will never get the chance.

[elysianslove]

YES I SAW UR REPLY AND I GOT TOO EXCITED TO THE POINT THAT IDK HOW TO RESPOND LOL IM SORRY 😭 BUT TYSM LOVE AND TO SAY IM OVER THE MOON IS AN UNDERSTATEMENT 😩💖

OMG DONT U DARE TAKE BACK UR QUESTION 😡‼️ im v honored to be asked by u and imma answer this wholeheartedly 😎🤚🏻

lil head ups : (1) english isnt my first language so im sorry if theres any grammar error or other type of mistakes (2) i dont hv that much of informations ab u so i wrote this based on what i personally like ab u & which hq boys would prob too (3) i put mini scenarios to spice things up a lil bit 🧚🏻‍♀️ so here u go!

HAIKYUU BOYS THAT I THINK SAL WOULD DEF BE ABLE TO PULL AND WHY

hanamaki takahiro -> he likes u bc ur a fun companion. he's abs head over heels ever since u laughed at his worn-out fave jokes and how u two can talk abt literally anything for hours — from the serious type of convo like idk some science theories or certain beliefs to the most random things like what would u do if an alien barge into ur house when ur in the mid of showering.

akaashi keiji -> he likes u bc ur a great listener. he is very used to being everyone's listener — not that it bothers him much but sometimes he wants to be heard and to earn proper respond to his story too. i'd like to think that he is also the class president bc nobody is as dependable as akashi keiji in the whole universe & he simply couldnt say no — so going back to class bc u forgot ur pencil case just to see ur composed looking class president screaming on top of his lung is one in a lifetime sight. u just stand there🧍🏻‍♀️and say “uh do u perhaps need someone to talk to?” he remains quite for a good minute to restrain himself from embarrassment then proceed to say yeah. since that day, he never misses out ur daily life-rambles session.

miya atsumu -> he likes u bc ur considerate and good with words. im a strong believer that my boy is one of the most insecure character in haikyuu — seeing him not that sociable in the flashback scene and how cocky he could be to maintain his defensive walls. so the one thing he needs the most is reassurance, constant reminder that he's doing great. not that u do it all the time, but u always there in the most needed time. he didnt tell u his feelings tho bc his ego doesnt let him — at least thats what hes trying to convince himself, but its actually bc he cherishes u sm that he doesnt want to lose u due to his own selfishness.

i had so much fun writing these so i hope they do u justice && as always im here to remind u : dont forget to stay happy & healthy & hydrated esp these days during ramadan 😻💞 i hope this ask wont get deleted by tumblr bc i actually responded to ur thought ab fasting with seijoh 4 but i think tumblr threw it away 😢

— 🐬

PLEASE I HAVENT OPENED TUMBLR FOR LIKE 2 DAYS AND I COME ABCK TO THISBEIENEJDJ

what do i even say i ,,, i genuinely wasn’t expecting all this 😭 the fact that you not only answered it but went in depth can i marry u like 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 pls 💍 and the fact that you think so highly of me im so honored :( this is my favorite ask i’ve ever gotten im gonna bookmark this so i could just come back to it whenever :( it’s gonna be forever special to me so thank you <3 and don’t even about the english thing. my first language isn’t english either :) and!!! the fact that you can speak it and another fluently (maybe even more) is impressive as hell.

ALSOJEBSJD IM GLAD U GOT THE REPLY!! may 1st baby 😼 and ill try to look for the ask about fasting w the seijoh boys bc :((((

anyways i love you and thank you for this it made my day a thousand times better. i hope you’re always well and happy, mwah <3

[cuttlefishkitch]

hello! i haven't talked to you before, but ron said that i could ask you for some advice on writing eds? (i'd like to know things to avoid/common things that could come up in everyday life that would be good to mention/the sort of aids and stuff they'd have maybe?/anything else you think is relevant)

Hi! Sorry this took so long, a combination of ADHD and chronic pain slowed me way the fuck down. Thank you for being patient! 

EDIT: WEIRD HEEL THINGS I FORGOT!!

So, before I get into this I should probably say I technically haven’t been diagnosed with Ehlers Danlos Syndrome (EDS for anyone reading) because it’s one of those syndromes that takes forever to get diagnosed with (it took a friend of mine’s mother over 30 years to get dxed). Many doctors, and everyone I know who does have EDS agree with me that it’s probably what causes my chronic joint pain and some of my other chronic issues. But just because three separate doctors have said “Yeah Probably” doesn’t mean I’m diagnosed!! Only a geneticist can do that!! And they had two-three year waitlists BEFORE the apocalypse happened.

I am diagnosed with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS), Small Fiber Neuropathy, and potentially misdiagnosed with Fibromyalgia (once I get properly tested for EDS I might get undiagnosed with this because I don’t have most of the main symptoms of Fibro, but I got diagnosed with it anyway because it’s what doctors misDX you with when they don’t know what’s wrong with you and don’t want to do more tests).

All that said, I’ve done a lot of research about EDS (mainly because it’s the only thing that explains all my symptoms since doctors seem incapable of doing so), and know a few people who have either confirmed or suspected EDS, so I’ll link to some stuff, talk about the symptoms that often come with EDS, explain how the symptoms I have affect me, because just because someone’s not diagnosed doesn’t mean they aren’t having symptoms, and probs elaborate a bit about writing physical disabilities and chronic pain in general because it’s super important to me! 

So RESOURCES aka how to make sure your post never sees the light of day because you’re linking things and tumblr hates it when people give other people information!!

Youtubers! If you want to know about the day to day of living with EDS or any disability or chronic illness I super suggest finding a youtuber that makes videos about their life. My EDS favorites are

Jessica Kellgren-Fozard

Annie Elainey

Amy Lee Fisher

Websites! If you’re asking random folks on tumblr I’m assuming (and hoping) you’ve already done the basic WebMD google searches and looked over the seemingly ridiculous lists of symptoms and related conditions, so here are a few websites that are made more for people than for doctors.

The Ehlers Danlos Society

OhTWIST (That’s Why I’m So Tired)

ChronicPainPartners (the fact that they have an entire section of articles called “Dealing with Doctors” should really tell you something)

Books! If you feel like doing actual reading! I suggest reading books written by people with Ehlers Danlos, to get a feel for how they portray themselves. I’m not saying steal, but it’s probably a good point of comparison to see how your portrayal feels. (haven’t actually read these b/c my ADHD doesn’t let me read)

Ria Ruse by Morgan S. Ray (a superhero book with a disabled super MC!!)

Mysteries of Maybelle by Imani Benfell (Imani is still in high school and has already written and self-published a book cause she didn’t have enough representation for herself how cool is she!!)

Bodies in Motion by Liana Brooks (tw for pregnancy problems and miscarriages in the link, because it’s a blog post talking about integrating EDS symptoms into the story without explicitly naming them as such)

OKAY, now for some rambling about EDS SYMPTOMS!!!

Ehlers Danlos is one monster of a genetic condition in complexity and variety. There are THIRTEEN different identified types of EDS, it often comes with Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS) and/or POTS, and can lead to various other conditions like gastroparesis, chiari malformation, craniocervical instability, and/or bad teeth. So if you’re going to be writing a character with EDS consider what other comorbid conditions they might also have. I’m mainly going to be talking about Hypermobile EDS (hEDS) because it’s what I probably have and what I’m most familiar with. That said there is a lot of overlap in symptoms with the other varieties.

I started typing this section and realized I was going to have to break it down even more so we’re going to talk about Chronic Pain, Unstable Joints (Dislocations and Subluxations), Skin Things, Mobility Issues, and Other Weird Shit and how those things get addressed separately.

Gonna get the Other Weird Shit out of the way first. Because EDS is a malfunction of connective tissue it can fuck up all sorts of random things. For instance, I and many other people w/ hEDS have trouble swallowing. Shit gets stuck in my throat, I sometimes choke on and have to cough up food, and pills can be hard to swallow, which sucks cause I take A Lot Of Pills. If it doesn’t cause full-on gastroparesis it can cause IBS or other digestive problems b/c the digestive tract is mostly made of connective tissue. It can potentially cause heart problems even if they aren’t as big of a risk as in some other forms of EDS. Premature osteoarthritis is common because what you need is more joint pain. And Fatigue OH BOY THE FATIGUE. And of course the headaches, can’t forget those pesky migraines can we!

AND piezogenic papules!! I completely forgot!! Piezogenic papules are little white bumps that appear when you put weight on your heel. In some people they hurt, but in others they don’t. They’re technically tiny little herniations of fat peaking through the fascia in the heel. They were added as part of the diagnostic criteria for hEDS in 2017!

Now for Skin Things cause it’s not as big a thing in hEDS as it is in other forms. Basically, in a lot of forms of EDS, the skin is extra stretchy and extra delicate. It bruises and tears easily, people with the extreme versions of this can accidentally scratch something into an open wound if they aren’t careful. My skin is pretty soft and sensitive, I def have the typical velvety skin, and as is pretty par for the course of someone with hEDS my skin is a little stretchy, and sorta delicate. I’m not as tissue-papery as some people get, but I almost always have at least one mystery bruise or scrape b/c existing is hazardous. Most of scars are also pretty normal, unlike the extremely papery and atrophic scars (though I have a few tiny acne scars that are atrophic) that are common with other kinds of hEDS. Something that I DO have is Lots of Stretch Marks, all over my thighs, and even down to my calves. Which wouldn’t be abnormal, except for the fact that I’ve never been over 145 lbs and I’ve never been pregnant. Having a lot of stretch marks or striations in the skin without due cause happens because the structure of the skin isn’t as strong as it is in people with a normal amount of connective tissue.

I don’t have to worry as much about my skin but people that do are usually very careful with adhesives because they can irritate or tear the skin, which sucks when you need a lot of bandaids cause your darn skin won’t do its job.

Now on to the meatier stuff and since I’m mostly working backward let’s do Mobility Issues!! These can happen in loads of ways, but a lot of what causes these in people with EDS are the other two things I wanna talk about. Unstable joints lead to increased risk of injury when doing stuff people with fully functioning joints can do.

For context, I’m an ambulatory wheelchair user, meaning I can walk, but a lot of the time it’s better if use a chair. Mine is mostly for my POTS symptoms, but the fact that my legs aren’t also in absolute agony is a big plus. I use a custom manual wheelchair with a SmartDrive (b/c I’m very fucking fortunate and have good insurance) whenever I leave the house and have to be “walking” for more than a few minutes at a time. I can’t fully self-propel in a manual chair because it would be damaging to the joints in my arms and hands, but the smaller chair is easier to maneuver in less than accessible spaces (like almost everywhere). There was about a month-long span where I used a very cheap and very bulky electric chair while I was waiting on the ideal set up I have now. Before that, I also briefly used, and sometimes still use, an up-right posture cane.

People with EDS have widely varying mobility issues because of how uniquely it can manifest. My cane only gave me a little help with balance because if I used it in any prolonged capacity any pain it took away from my legs was relocated to my arms, and as an artist, my arms are more important to me!

If you’re going to write a character with EDS having mobility issues as a result of their EDS the best thing to do is to narrow down their specific needs. Are their knees complete and utter garbage but their shoulders and wrists strong? Maybe they can get away with using a cane. Can they not stand for longer than 5 minutes because of the vertigo from their POTS? Maybe they need a manual wheelchair. Would propelling themself damage their back and arm joints? An electric chair might be necessary! Plenty of people with EDS use all sorts of combinations of these aides to get around their life, consider how your character’s good and bad days would be. Do they have back up plans if they overestimate themselves? There can be a lot to manage, but don’t let it scare you off! Sometimes I try and make it into a resource management game (because I’m a game designer and that’s what I do), to make evaluating my energy and mobility needs more fun!

But now let's tackle some of the reasons those mobility aides might be needed. Unstable Joints.

Ever stepped wrong and rolled your ankle? It hurts for a few steps and then kinda fixes itself, or maybe it bothers you for the rest of the day and you put it up and ice it when you get home? When I was walking around outside my house that would happen AT LEAST once a month, usually more. Some times I’m sitting wrong and when I get up my knee isn’t a knee anymore and decides to just give out from under me. My knuckles are made of unruly popcorn and they Don’t Want To Stay Home!! Oh! And my shoulder is more often out a little out of its socket than it is fully in.

Unstable joints lead to Dislocations and Subluxations of varying intensity, and some people get them more frequently than others. Some can be severe enough to necessitate hospital visits and even surgery, some subluxations are so banal (like my fUCKING SHOULDER) that you just learn to live with the pain.

If a character is going to be in high action, combat-heavy scenarios, chances are they’re going to be popping out joints left and right. Hell, depending on the severity of their joint laxity they could be doing the same sitting at a desk. Again, it’s incredibly varied. I’d suggest setting some sort of baseline for yourself, of what a character’s joints can and can’t stand up to, and maybe do some research on which joints are most likely to pop out in general (hips and shoulders are big culprits being the wacky ball and socket motherfuckers they are). Then maybe have something pop out or hold up every so often when it shouldn’t cause hey! EDS is kinda just like that! Unpredictable!

Some ways people manage joint laxity is with braces, KT tape, and physical therapy. Braces come in many different forms, since I’m currently getting pretty much no treatment for my shitty joints I use mostly compression braces made for sporty people. It really is amazing how much a bit of tight fabric can do to keep my wrist in place.

More specialized braces often have solid parts to prevent the joints from hyper-extending (bending the wrong way) and causing further damage. If you ever see someone with what looks like diamond shaped rings around a bunch of their finger joints, chances are those are Ring Splints, and are there to keep the finger shaped like a finger. I want to get my hands on some and get some on my hands Very Badly, because my fingers hyper-extend SO MUCH when I type, and it makes my hand pain way way worse.

KT tape is another thing people often use. It’s stretchy tape you put on your skin and it basically functions kinda like a second ligament as well as reinforcing the joint and keeping the bones mostly where they’re supposed to be. The problem with this is a lot of people with EDS have very sensitive and fragile skin like I mentioned before, so KT tape can cause allergic reactions, chronic skin irritation, or just straight up take the skin with it when someone goes to remove it. Hence a lot of folks are really careful with it.

Physical Therapy is kinda the best (and only) treatment for joint laxity aside from Very Invasive and sometimes Highly Experimental surgery. It focuses on strengthening the muscles around the joints so they can do the work all those bone ropes made of body glue can’t. The problem is finding a physical therapist that 1) knows what EDS even is, 2) knows you have it, and 3) knows how to treat it without doing stuff that’ll Phucking Hurt You Worse!! Because exercising wrong with EDS can do Permanent Damage!!!

Again most folks use a combination of all of these things, or have next to no access to them b/c healthcare sucks.

Anyway, on to one of my favorite topics, Chronic Pain!! One of the reasons this post took me so long!!!

Chances are if your character has chronic pain as a result of their EDS there are gonna be some things they hate, including stairs, rain, thunderstorms, stairs, hills, uneven terrain, oh and did I mention stairs??? It’s going to vary person to person, but almost everyone I’ve met with pain from EDS has complained about their knees. For me the most debilitating pain is in my fingers and wrists. They’re by far my least stable joints but I use them constantly for stuff like drawing, typing, and sewing.

Because my joint pain is so wide spread, like most people’s with hEDS, it effects every single part of my day to day life. I can’t carry a heavy ceramic plate, open a bottle, or even use my computer without pain. It’s practically impossible for me to get comfortable in any position be it sitting or laying down, and as you can imagine that makes it hard to sleep a lot of the time. Moving too much hurts, but so does sitting still. I’m constantly taking braces on and off or cracking/stretching my joints so they pop back into place and hurt less.

Also being in pain makes everything else That Much Worse. I get tired way faster than I did before my pain was this bad (I had chronic pain for a while before actually realizing it wasn’t normal to not be able to walk down the block without feeling like your foot bones are trying to escape). My sensory issues and anxiety disorder are more easily aggravated because my base level of comfort is way worse. It fucks with my depression. And OH BOY does it make my ADHD worse because being in pain is fucking distracting as hell and makes it harder to make decisions and switch tasks. Also my ADHD often makes my other symptoms worse cause I forget to take my meds, don’t drink enough water, or can’t find my fucking braces because the item eating black-hole that comes with ADHD stole them. The intersection of mental and physical disabilities is probably a rant for another time though, so back to chronic pain.

Does it suck? Yes, undoubtedly. Is this incredibly debilitating? Of course it is, I spent the last several months unable to feed myself without assistance because there was a staircase between my room and the kitchen and I could only manage to climb it once a day. Is it overwhelming? Definitely, I’ve frequently broken down crying from a combination of pain and frustration because I’m having a bad day and there’s no relief to be found. Am I able to predict when it’s going to rain with uncanny accuracy because any change in barometric pressure makes me feel like every bone in my body is trying to kill it’s neighbors? You bet your fucking ass I am!! Does it sometimes make me irritable, angry, and occasionally dismissive of when abled people get cold or a temporary injury because the stuff they’re complaining about is my life every single day and all avenues of treatment and recovery I have could take years and still not entirely solve my issues? Yeah, and while I deserve a little extra patience I also have to be sure to check myself because I don’t want to turn into someone who’s nasty to be around. Do I sometimes need to sleep for 17 hours straight because it’s raining, I have migraine, and I’m in too much pain to be conscious? Yup, sometimes a few days in a row. Does living in constant pain mean I’m unable to do all the things I want to and does that sometimes make me wanna curl up in bed and never leave? Yeah, it happens.

But! And here’s the big important but, that’s not everything! I still write, draw, and talk to my friends!! It might take me a little longer but I get there. I’m still happy and excitable and make the time to write out five page long posts about EDS because it’s something I’m passionate about! My chronic pain doesn’t stop me. I refuse to let it. I never really wanted to go mountain climbing anyway, so I’m perfectly happy being able to make it up and down the six steps in my house, even if sometimes I have to sit and bump down them on my ass, or crawl up them like a cat. Chronic pain isn’t all I am. It isn’t a fate worse than death. It isn’t the only thing your character should talk about (though I do talk about my pain a lot cause I’m a complainer about almost everything). You can have your character be hindered by their pain, realistically they would be. You can have them seek comfort, support, and relief. Other characters can commiserate and be sympathetic, but it doesn’t mean their whole life is going to be one big pity party, that would be incredibly fucking boring. I know I’d be bored out of my mind.

All that said dealing with chronic pain, especially from EDS, is Complicated. Physical Therapy is the gold standard, but like I said before it can be a long and difficult process, and isn’t always accessible. Stabilization methods like I talked about before can help prevent pain, or reduce it by keeping bones mostly where they belong. Heat and cold help joints, relax muscles, and reduce inflammation but keeping them applied is rough and the relief doesn’t always last. Doctors prescribe anti-depressants, anti-anxiety, and sometimes even anti-epileptic medication to help manage pain, but everyone’s mileage with those varies. And I’m not at all qualified to talk in-depth about narcotics or other heavy duty pain-meds, but suffice to say the war on drugs fucked shit up for people that legit need that kind of help BIG TIME.

Now for my closer/bonus rant about EDS and Disability Writing in General!

Everyone always says write what you know, so if you really want to do disabled people justice, get to know disabled people! Make friends with disabled people, get involved with advocacy groups, consume content made by disabled creators both about disability and not! Disabilities are so fucking diverse, even EDS is such a complex disorder, and comes with so many potential co-morbidities, that practically everyone with it has a unique experience. There’s no way I can fully explain everything in a tumblr post. Hell, even if I could talk to you for hours probably couldn’t give you enough info to answer all your questions (especially since I’m still in diagnosis hell :,) ), so talk to a wide range of people with EDS and other disabilities!! I know it sounds like a lot of work but trust me, disabled people are some of the strongest, raddest, coolest, people you will ever meet that it won’t feel like it.

And don’t be afraid either, the fact that EDS and other disabilities are so wildly varied means that you have a little bit of wiggle room with your character’s experience. There’s so little disability rep out their I think people are WAY to scared to try their hand at writing it. So long as your character is a fully developed person in addition to being disabled, you give some logical thought as to how it would affect their life, and you don’t make their disability the butt of any joke it isn’t difficult to avoid ableist writing. PLEASE WRITE MORE DISABLED PEOPLE AND PEOPLE WITH CHRONIC PAIN/CHRONIC ILLNESS!!

Okay that’s it, again sorry it took so long for me to get back to you! My fingers were being little pests about it, and my ADHD (which is honestly more disabling than everything else a lot of the time lmao) was being an asshole! Hope this helps, and feel free to ask me more questions if you need clarification! It might take me a bit but I do love talking about this stuff.

[lifeonashelf]

COHEN, LEONARD

So, here’s the thing: I don’t know anything about Leonard Cohen.

I do own two of his most acclaimed albums, but don’t get too excited. I bought both of them the week of Cohen’s passing solely because learning of his passing made me realize I didn’t have anything by him in my collection, and he’s always been on my radar as an artist I should probably know some things about, you know? I listened to those two discs one day while I was cleaning my apartment or something, and they were lovely and pleasant and sounded great, but then I filed them away on my shelf and that was essentially the extent of my immersion into the world of Leonard Cohen. I know the reissues I purchased are noteworthy entries in his discography, because they’re housed in these rather attractive hardcover digipacks with booklets that feature lengthy contextual essays written by people way smarter than me. I suppose I could read those essays and glean a little information about Cohen that way, but then I’d just be offering you disingenuous regurgitation, and I don’t want to fake anything in these pages; that’s kind of counteractive to the entire purpose of me writing these dumb things. So if you want to read a thoughtful essay about Leonard Cohen constructed by someone who I assume knows enough about Leonard Cohen to warrant being paid to write an essay about him, you should definitely seek out the striking deluxe editions of Songs From a Room and Songs of Love and Hate I’m referring to, because both have essays in them, and they’re printed on glossy paper so they’re probably pretty good (very few crappy essays get preserved on glossy paper).

No one is paying me to write this essay about Leonard Cohen—they’d be pretty stupid to do so, since I don’t know anything about Leonard Cohen—but I have that pair of records and he’s the next artist on alphabetical deck. So here we are.

Actually, you know what? Before we get started, I’m going to go ahead and advise you to just skip this piece altogether.

Hear me out. I can’t imagine this is going to be one of my better entries; considering my not knowing anything about the person I’m supposed to be writing about and all, the odds of my somehow summoning literary gold here aren’t particularly strong. Also, Leonard Cohen is a highly respected artist, and based on the listening I’m doing right now, he definitely deserves that respect—I’m on my second spin of Songs from a Room and it is an absolutely beautiful record. But what am I accomplishing by telling you that? You probably already know Songs From a Room is an absolutely beautiful record, and if you don’t, you should totally listen to it right this minute instead of reading anything I might observe about it, because the album is a whole lot better than this essay is going to be. I’ve been down this road before, so I can tell you exactly what’s about to happen here: I’m going to keep prattling on with gibberish just like this and end up embarrassing myself by blowing yet another chance to write something substantial about a substantial artist. I guess I could comment on how much I like the two Cohen songs that were used to bookend the mindfuck of a film Natural Born Killers or something, but what purpose will that serve? There, I commented on it, and biting into those ‘member berries hasn’t magically ignited some spirited dissertation, has it? Look, I’m saying this because I care: I really think you should call it quits on this piece right here and now, before you get in too deep. I’m already doomed, but it’s not too late to save yourself. Run, go, get to the choppah. Fly away, Clarice, fly fly fly. ‘Member?  

Okay, you’ve been duly warned. So if you do decide to continue on, I’m not going to feel terribly bad about wasting your time, especially since I essentially just promised you anything I write from this point forward is going to be a waste of your time. I mean, everything I’ve written so far has also been a waste of your time, but I haven’t written that much yet. And at least the stuff I wrote so far has served a purpose: it cautioned you that everything to come is going to be an even bigger waste of your time. I can’t promise any of the supplemental paragraphs I’m about to compose will be worth even that much, so I really have to advise you to take a moment here and consider your situation carefully. Weighing everything I’ve just told you about my not knowing anything about Leonard Cohen (and, just to be clear, I’m not playfully minimizing that disposition; I honestly don’t know shit about him), along with my stated unambiguous surety that I am about to waste an indefinite amount of your time (you must be familiar with my work by now; it’s totally plausible this thing could end up running 15 pages)—do you really want to read any of more of this? It’s still not too late to back out. Your time investment thus far is minimal. You can just move right along to the next piece (it’s about Coldplay, so I’m sure that essay is going to be way funnier than this one). My feelings won’t be hurt, I promise. I can hardly fault you for not reading this, because there isn’t any reason at all you should read this. Unless you just really enjoy reading these entries in general, but that seems highly unlikely because nobody enjoys reading them—shit, I only enjoy every fifth one or so, and I write the fucking things.

Check it out: usually by this point in a composition, I would be painstakingly rereading what I’ve written so far to make sure I’m off to an okay start, right? But I haven’t done that in this case because I already know everything I’ve written so far is garbage. This piece isn’t going to improve, either. And that’s what I’m really trying to get across to you here: I am woefully ill-equipped to write anything about Leonard Cohen that is as excellent as his music—I just listened to Songs of Love and Hate a couple times, and holy shit, that’s an absolutely beautiful record too. You may assume I’m continuing this obnoxious diatribe because I’m setting you up for some grand gag (granted, it’s a fair guess, because I’ve done that a few times in entries past). But I’m not joking when I say that I’m not joking in this instance. This rambling philological self-fellation is not going to coalesce into something worthwhile; it’s just going to go on and on like this until I decide I’m done fucking with you and then this essay will just sort of… end, without preamble or satisfaction. I’m telling you, if you keep reading this, you are going to be super pissed off when you finish it. You’ll get to the conclusion, and you’ll grumble, “That’s it…? That was stupid.” And you will be right, because that will be it and it will be stupid.

Since that will be transpiring soon, we should probably clarify that at this point, when it does it’s going to be entirely your fault. If you go all the way back to the beginning of this twaddle, you’ll clearly see the very first thing I wrote was, “So, here’s the thing: I don’t know anything about Leonard Cohen.” That was the opening fucking sentence, dude. Seriously, what did you think was going to happen after that? And only a few lines later, I wrote: “I’m going to go ahead and advise you to just skip this piece altogether.” Then came that whole part about how reading this was going to be a total waste of your time, blah blah blah. You can check if you want; it’s all totally in there. I’m sure you didn’t think I’d be reprinting complete sentences you already read—and, you know what, yes, that’s kind of a low blow, I’m realizing now—but after I took the time to explain in detail that this essay would likely end up serving no purpose whatsoever, surely that must have given you pause. I mean, didn’t you think to yourself, “Wait a minute, before I read this essay, is it going to serve some purpose?” As I’ve made abundantly clear, the answer is: No. No, it is not. I was pretty up front about that. In fact, I specifically told you not to read it—“there isn’t any reason at all you should read this”; is that ringing a bell at all? So if you are still reading it, that’s kind of on you, dude. Sure, I could have stopped writing a long time ago and spared you from all of this bullshit, but let’s not get caught up in semantics.

Have you seen the movie Reservoir Dogs? I’m assuming you have, but if you haven’t, you can add that to the list of far more fulfilling things you could be doing right now instead of reading this essay. Anyway, the film is centered around the aftermath of a jewelry store robbery gone horrifically wrong. We don’t actually see the caper take place, but the characters reference it enough along the way for us to get a clear sense of things devolving into a bloodbath after one of the robbers, Mr. Blonde (played by Michael Madsen) shoots numerous people inside the establishment. Is it coming back to you now? Good. There’s a reason I’m bringing this up.

Since Madsen is absent for a lot of the movie, the audience’s understanding of the storyline relies mostly on what the characters played by Steve Buscemi and Harvey Keitel share with us about what has occurred. Their perspective is clear: Mr. Blonde went crazy and started killing people, and that’s why the whole heist went tits up. However, when Madsen finally appears at the warehouse where the bulk of the plot’s action takes place, he presents an entirely different assessment of the exact same incident. It is here that the movie shifts into the subtle employment of a narrative device known as the “Rashomon Effect,” so-named because this formula’s introduction to Western film-goers is commonly credited to the 1950 Akira Kurosawa film Rashomon—a picture which we can assume in hindsight Reservoir Dogs creator Quentin Tarantino was consciously invoking since his filmography has since revealed a heart-on-sleeve fandom for the work of that storied Japanese director (several Tarantino flicks make reference to this allegiance, but his Kill Bill films in particular are at their core unashamed modern reimaginings of Kurosawa’s legendary Samurai epics). I won’t recount the entire plot of Rashomon, since doing so would be superfluous here (as opposed to all of this shit I’m writing about Reservoir Dogs, which is obviously vitally important to this essay about Leonard Cohen). All you really need to know for our purposes is that the crux of the story is a singular event which is assigned completely disparate interpretations by the various people in the film who witness it.  Which is precisely what happens when Michael Madsen makes his entrance.

Now, I’ve seen Reservoir Dogs many times, but not enough times to have the dialogue faithfully memorized; you’ll have to forgive me if I paraphrase a bit here. Essentially, Keitel’s character calls Mr. Blonde a “maniac” or something to that effect, a designation based on Madsen’s character opening fire upon one of the store’s clerks for what Keitel perceives as “no reason at all.” Madsen’s response to this slanted accusation is fascinating. In direct repudiation of his labelling as a “maniac” seconds before, he continues calmly drinking his soda as he amends Keitel’s analysis of the murder by providing a remarkably lucid and utilitarian explanation for the killing: “I told her not to press the alarm, but she did. If she hadn’t done the thing that I told her not to do, then I wouldn’t have shot her.”

It seems we are sharing our own Rashomon moment, my friends. You may feel like your time has been wasted, and it certainly has. But I am not the one who wasted it. That was you. I told you not to read this essay, but you did. If you hadn’t done the thing I told you not to do…  

Mr. Cohen: I am truly sorry. Your music is stunning, and you deserve far better than this.

As for the rest of you: I mean, dude, I fucking told you.

 March 31, 2019

[nad-zeta]

Match up ♥

Hiya, hon! ♥ I love your match-ups and honestly, I’ve been meaning to request one for a loooong time, but I haven’t had the chance to do so till now cause I’ve been drowning in lots and lots of homework TwT

I’m female, 25 years old, dark chocolate, shoulder-length hair, brown eyes. I’m a small potato 157 cm (5'1 ft) and I’m curvy.

I’m a Gemini, INFP-A. I love and need my alone time, though I enjoy spending time with my friends and loved ones. I use my free time to write fics, read books (Though I haven’t read a book out of sheer pleasure in a long while thanks to college lol,) draw my stickemen and play League of Legends.

Being surrounded by too many people is draining af and it can quickly become overwhelming tbh. I prefer to be surrounded by a couple of calm people and be my yahoo self with them. Even though I’m a mature person, I can be very childish and stubborn at times. I’m the Mom Friend™, a worrywart cause I care, I have a strong personality.  I’m caring, kind, friendly, funny, assertive, strong-willed. I’m usually the one people goes to when they need a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on. I will stand for my friends without giving it a second thought. I definitely won’t tell you what you want to hear, but what you need to hear. And due to the way I express myself, people who don’t know me at all tend to find me intimidating which is kinda funny! 😂

When I’m with my friends, I try to come up with jokes or puns to make them laugh. I don’t take myself too seriously…I laugh at my own dumb-ass 😂😂 cause it’s okay to make mistakes, nobody’s perfect after all. And this is probably why it pisses me off when people make fun of my friends. Binch, fite me! So I just go and stand for them as politely and civilized as I possibly can. I’m usually talkative but every once in a while I just feel like isolating for a bit and be there exclusively for myself.

Hmm… I’m corny af and a hopeless romantic, I’m weak for smooth flirts and I like being teased cause I LOVE teasing back. I have a sweet tooth, I love tea. I love eating…in general.

I’m afraid I’m rambling at this point so Imma stop it here 😂

Thank you so much for doing these awesome match ups! ♥ ♥ ♥

Hi, there love! Thanx so much for the kind words, and can I just say I absolutely love your writing!  ♥ ♥ ♥ Hehehe also I feel you with the school work! I hope you enjoy it love, and I hope you have a good day! @venulus

So I match you with………………………. Hideyoshi

So for me honestly it was between Hideyoshi and Mitsunari lol

Classic Hideyoshi did not trust you one bit. The moment you arrived, he saw you as a threat to his lord and was watching you like a hawk. You were quiet, stubborn and assertive and to him, that meant just one thing…. SPY. 

You worked super hard and quickly started adapted to the castle life. Everyone that has worked with you absolutely adored you. Although Hideyoshi was still not buying it. He legit thought that sweet kind friendliness was all an act, to get the people around you to trust you. You kept mostly to yourself in any case, as you found loud people to be overbearing and exhausting, and unfortunately for you that would be most of the castle residents. Although in saying that you had started to form some good friendships among the Oda forces.

One day Nobunaga announced that they were going to war and that you and Mitsunari were to stay behind and guard the castle. You were super happy about that- well not happy that your new friends could die, but happy to get some alone time and not have Hideyoshi continually looking over your shoulder. Plus Mitsunari was one of your close friends so you were super happy he was staying behind with you! 

You honestly never realized just how bad Mitsunari’s habits were until he passed out in front of you one day, while informing you of the state of the war. You knew the warlords cared for him, but you never realized to what extent. Your mama bear instincts instantly kicked in. You semi moved into Hideyoshi manor while he was away, so that it would be easier for you to take care of the resident angel. You made sure he was well-fed, room was clean and he got a decent amount of sleep. Hell, you even helped him work out an eating, training and sleeping schedule which you stuck on his wall to remind him to eat and sleep. After a while Mitsunari fell into a good routine with the schedule and was now almost capable of caring for himself

Mitsunari had one day informed you that the Oda forces had won the war and were now on their way back. The two of you cuties excitingly waited at the gate for your friends to return only for your faces to go from joyful to concerned in 0,2 seconds flat. Hideyoshi was passed out and heavily bandaged. Seem like the idiot went a bit over the top with protecting Nobunaga.

That night as you and Mitsunari gave your reports regarding the castle affairs in his absence, Nobunaga couldn’t help but noticed how healthy and good Mitsunari looked. You told him that you helped him organize his time and made sure that he all the basics were taken care of, i.e. sleeping, training and eating. Nobunaga thought for a moment and then broke out into the biggest grin “I commend you for your work with the castle and Mitusnari fireball, and I now assign you to care for my right-hand man”. You had no complaints, even though Hideyoshi hated you, the inner mom friend in you could never refuse someone in need of assistance.

You moved into Hideyoshi’s manor full time now. While you were there, you cared for both men. You changed Hide’s dressing, cleaned his wounds and made sure that he got plenty of food. Most nights, you would actually sleep in Hideyoshi’s room, caring for his high fevers and low key doing some of the easy paperwork just so that the man wouldn’t be overloaded with work when he was healed. Hideyoshi would shift in and out of consciousness, and boy was he confused to see you sleeping at his writing desk one night. Sometimes when he opened his eyes, he would see you place a cool soothing cloth on his head, other times he would listen to you talk about anything and everything. He would smile a little thinking that your presence in his room was a fever-induced dream.

After a week, his fever finally broke, and the wounds were now slowly, starting to close up and heal. He woke up that morning to you passed out at his writing desk. He had to do a double-take. He thought you caring for him had all been a big dream. He watched your beautiful sleeping face for a moment or two, draped his blankie over your shoulders and went to Nobunaga to receive work. His mind couldn’t help but wander back to you sleeping in his room, how many nights had he woken up to see you there by his side, and then the thoughts got dark, how many time had he accused you of being a spy of calling your kindness an act. HE felt his stomach drop, he honestly needed to make it up to you. But first he needed to check in with Nobunaga.

Nobunaga basically chased him away, saying he would only receive work once you reported that he was completely healthy and ready to come back to work. He walked back to his manor deflated, only to be met with you at the front door “where have you been young man, last time I check you just barely escaped death and are in no state to be walking about”. Hideyshi’s eyes widened he had never been scolded before. You stood there hands on your hips with the biggest frown, eyes filled with worry and concern. It made Hideyoshi’s heart melt that even though he had treated you like an enemy you still cared for him and spent countless days and nights by his side. You led him back to his futon and tucked him in. You brought him lunch and filled him in on everything that had happened since his been unconscious. 

TBH as the days went by Hideyoshi was falling more and more in love with you, he could kick himself for treating you so horribly. And spending countless days with you, gently and sweetly caring for him, makes him realizes more and more what a gigantic fool he was. Yes, you were stubborn and assertive, but you were also the kindest, sweetest, gentlest, friendliest girl in the whole world. 

He made a vow to himself, to make it up to you once he was all better. It took two months, but finally, this boy was back to his full health and absolutely smitten with you and you with him. 

You had come to realize during your time with him what a naturally flirty charmer he truly was, and the mountain of letters he received from women no longer surprised you. Honestly his smooth flirting even had your knees going weak. You had come to enjoy the light teasing and banter the two of you engaged in as you cared for him. He loved that you weren’t afraid to give him the hard solid facts and be a friendly shoulder for him to cry on, especially during times when he felt so weak and worthless for being injured and unable to serve his lord. You would tell him what he needed to hear, not what he wanted to hear. 

The time had finally come that you had to move out of his manor and back into the palace, and TBH Hideyoshi was actually a little sad. He was definitely going to miss your vibrant energy, and hours and hours spent together, talking each other’s ears off. 

Now that he was healed it was time to make up for the ill way he treated you in the past, and low key thank you for taking such good care of him. He would take you out for tea every moment he could get. He knew you had a sweet tooth like Nobunaga, so he would ensure that there was always something delicious to eat at the little tea date the two of you went on. You of course never complained cause the three things you loved most in the world would be right infornt of you, tea, sweet and Hideyoshi. 

You discovered that Hideyoshi actually had a hilarious sense of humour. The two of you would laugh and tease each other all throughout the dates. Ooh boy, did he love your puns and honestly you couldn’t help but laugh at his hilariously unfunny dad jokes.

Hideyoshi is very much like you, a hopeless romantic, so during his free time, he is always planning some or other fun activity for the two of you to do. Whether it’s holding your hand as the two of you, stroll on the beach or taking you up a mountain to watch the sunset together. He has always got something cute up his sleeve 

Your favourite moment was one day when the two of you were out for tea, the sky started getting dark. The two of you were having such a good time you didn’t even notice it was about to rain. As the two of you were walking back to the castle the cloud burst and the light drizzle turned into a full-blown downpour. Even though you were super mature, you did have your childish moments. You looked up at Hideyoshi with the biggest grin on your face and started dancing in the rain, while he took cover at a nearby shop. With outstretched arms, you started twirling in the rain and splashing in the puddle “Hey you’re going to catch a cold”, at that you simply took Hideyoshi’s hand in yours and dragged him into the rain to dance with you. He shook his head at you, but couldn’t help but dance along with you. 

You stared up into his amber eyes, and this was when Hideyoshi decided to make his feeling for you known. He cupped your wet cheeks in his warm hands and leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss. 

After he pulled away and saw your sunshine smile, he picked you up and twired you around in the rain. He was so happy. The two of you played in the rain together without a care in the world until sunset.

Hideyoshi staying true to his doting self, of course, ran the two of you a warm bubble bath to fight off the chill from spending the afternoon in the rain. He pampered you from the moment you walked into his manor door. After your relaxing bath, he dried your hair and gave you a foot massage followed by a cheesy candlelit dinner for the two of you. He had been waiting so long to confess his feeling for you that he couldn’t help but want to pamper the shit out of his love

This man definitely respected your alone time and knew that everyone needed some time to themselves every now and then. 

He loved it when you worked in his room and kept him company as he worked. Hideyoshi is definitely the type to drop a few kisses on your forehead, cheek and lips whenever the two of you bump into each other in the hallway. 

He loves to spoil you any chance he can get. The two of you honestly turn into the castle mom and dad caring for everyone in the castle. Often the two of you cuties can be found nestled in each other’s arms or sharing sweets at your favourite tea house.

Other potential matches……… Mitsunari 

 I hope you liked it, dear! <3<3

[pllandcompany]

I Choose You

Summary: Hospital AU! A look into how Roman and Logan’s relationship developed.

Pairings: Pre-romantic into Romantic Logince, background QPP Moxiety

Warnings: discussion of medical procedures, blood mention, violence/shooting mention, mention of drug use/addiction, anxiety, crying, a (and one almost) kiss

Tagged:  @shxtxpp @apologieslogan  @crofters-jam @asylia5911 @ab-artist @band-be-boss-blog @unbefuckinglieveable@flyingfreeyt @thecatchat @thefallendog @backatthebein @insufferablegayastronaut

Notes: Guess who’s back at it again after months of writer’s block?? I’ve wanted to write this story for a while. It does reference a few other fics I’ve written in this AU so here, here, and here are the links for those stories if you want more context as the events of this story are not in order of how they happened based on the established timeline. Also, heads up that I’ve only linked the first part of Out Loud (last link) and Don’t You Remember (second link) but If you want full details (or if you just love my writing so much, insert eye roll here), go to my masterlist and read all of the parts. Still, it should be fairly clear even without reading the previous stories. Okay! Enough talking! Enjoy!

Why wasn’t he awake?

That deadly, nerve-wracking, gut-twisting question had been bouncing around Dr. Roman Courtland’s mind for five days now. The deadline of the withdrawal of care date loomed over his head like a terrorizing and expansive storm ready to break open at any moment. Fourteen days was just simply not enough time. Did the man have no hope?

Note to self: Remind Logan to change that stupidly short time period when he wakes up.

In all actuality, Logan being in a coma was not the expected outcome. It was a nearly perfect surgery. The bleeding was minimal and deftly controlled by his swift hand when it occurred. There was no sign of post-operative stroke or brain death. He should be awake. Yet there Logan lay as still and pale as driven snow, the steady beep of the machines being the only sign of life in the room. It shouldn’t be the case, but it was and Roman was damned determined to find out why. This wasn’t just any patient. No, this was a colleague and a gifted one at that; Logan was quite possibly the most brilliant cardio-thoracic surgeons this hospital had ever seen. Not only was this a professional point of pride, Logan was also the man who saved his brother’s life while simultaneously putting up with his relentless torment the entire time Remy was hospitalized. Roman knew he had been unfair to the surgeon, cruel even and he has certainly spent an exorbitant amount of energy trying to make up for that fact since, including personally taking on his case when Logan turned up with a brain tumor. Shortly before his diagnosis, the two finally found themselves on better terms and Roman was…looking forward to getting to know the doctor more, figure out what truly makes him tick. Now he was potentially the surgeon responsible for destroying that precious of a mind, for squandering the opportunity to…learn more about Logan? Roman refused to accept that reality. Logan Taylor was going to wake up if he had any say in it. He had to; Roman wasn’t ready to lose him-

“Roman? What are you still doing here?”

Patton. Damn it. “Looking over Logan’s post-op scans.” Roman felt the deep sigh more than he heard it.

“For the hundredth time, I bet. Roman, take a break, please. You have to step away at least for a moment. Have you even eaten anything?”

“Have I figured this out yet? Then the answer is no and I’m not leaving until that changes.” A small pang of guilt tightened Roman’s chest briefly. Yelling at Patton was like kicking a puppy, a completely undeserved action. As usual, Patton didn’t even seem fazed which only served to make the neurosurgeon feel worse. Instead, he simply sat across from the distraught doctor, empathy shining in his eyes.

“Roman, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

“Then what the hell else am I supposed to do?!” Roman flailed his arms in sheer frustration, the force of action flinging the scans everywhere. He roughly ran a shaky hand through his hair and breathed deeply, trying to control himself while Patton quietly picked up the discarded films.

“I wish I could tell you what to do, Roman. I don’t know how to fix Logan. But I do know you’re not going to find the answer like this. Please take a break. Get some sleep. Come at this again in the morning.”

Roman buried his head into his hands. “What if something happens when I walk away? What if he gets worse and I’m not here to stop it? What if I can’t figure this out and I…and we lose him?” Patton gently took Roman’s hands out of his hair and smoothed the wavy locks down, a solemn yet knowing smile playing on his lips.

“I know you’re scared. I am too. But we don’t get to know what’s going to happen sometimes. All we can do is our best. Which you can’t do if you’re exhausted. So, come with me. We’re going to have dinner and then you’re going to an on-call room to lie down. You don’t have to sleep. You can ramble all the medicine at me that you want, every detail. Maybe then we can come up with something together. How does that sound?” Roman nodded silently, allowing Patton to lead him out of his office.

An hour and a sandwich later, Roman was out like a light and Patton was quietly sneaking out of the on-call room.

Mission successful.

****

“Good morning, nerd!”

God, Roman was insufferable. Logan let out a soul-exiting sigh. “Dr. Courtland, must you insist on calling me that?”

“Oh, don’t get your briefs in a twist, Dr. Taylor; you know I tease only out of love.” Logan hoped the tenseness in his shoulders wasn’t noticeable.

There he was using that word around him again.

“You cannot possibly love me. We’ve only known each other a few months. Besides, I seem to recall you having a certain disdain for me when I first arrived here. It would be impossible for that to have resolved itself in totality so soon.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Roman stop and turn back to him. Suddenly, Logan was grateful they were the only two in the lounge.

“Logan…you still think so ill of me?” The cardiologist barely held back the gasp that bubbled in his throat at the hurt look on the neurosurgeon’s face.

“No…not of you?”

“Then of yourself?” Roman sat next to Logan, setting his thigh ablaze when they brushed against each other. Logan hesitated for a moment as his mind struggled to find the best way to answer.

“That’s not it either. I simply meant that we are very different people with not much in common. I’m not certain as to how we will coalesce outside of being coworkers.” If we will.

“Well, that isn’t always a negative thing. I like that we’re different. Means there’s much we can learn from each other.”

“Of course. Our specialties differ greatly; there’s bound to be new information learned between us.” Roman chuckled warmly. 

“While I find your habit of taking things literally quite refreshing, in this case it led you astray. You’re so much more than the job, Lo. You are strong and wise, brilliant and beautifully complicated in ways I’d like to know more about. If you’d let me that is.” The neurosurgeon’s face held so much hope, it metaphorically made Logan’s heart just…stop. How ironic that he, the cardio-thoracic surgeon would be the one to need pulmonary resuscitation from just one look from the towheaded neurosurgeon. ​ It just wasn’t reasonable how one person could be so disarming, so confounding, so attractive…

Logan had to get out of there.

“Ah! Yes, well, then I concede to your point, Dr. Courtland. Fare-farewell.” The older doctor jumped up like a jack in the box and practically sprinted out of the room, the edge of his white coat narrowly missing Roman’s face. 

It didn’t bother him too much once he realized that Logan hadn’t said no.

****

“Okay, Logan. Let’s try this again. Pick up the pencil and write your name.” Logan stared at the yellow No. 2 as if it would jump up and slap him at any moment. “Can we go back to the ball?”

Roman almost chuckled. “You’ve already done that portion. Your grip strength is greatly improved. Now we need to build your prehensile strength back. Go ahead, pick up the pencil. Just try.”

After a few tense moments, Logan finally held the writing instrument. His heart pounded with anticipation as he gingerly placed the tip to the paper in front of him. He pressed down ever so slightly and began to write his name.

He didn’t make it through the ‘g’ before the force of his tremor snapped the graphite.

In a fit of pure rage, Logan swiftly grabbed the pencil in his left hand and threw it across the room. It sailed past Roman’s ear so close he felt the wind move his hair. Before he could react, Logan was standing and tossing his chair across the room. A loud clattering sound stunned Roman into stock still reticence, not daring to test the cardiologist in this state.

“Damn it! Damn it all to hell!”

“Logan, just try to stay calm- “

“No, you said this would work! Yet it’s been a month and I still can’t use my hand! An entire month and I still can’t operate because you make promises you can’t keep!” Silence. “I’m sorry. That was…an unbecoming display.” He moved to restore the room to its original order but Roman intercepted him. He placed two warm hands on Logan’s shoulders, drawing a gasp from the sudden contact.

“You don’t have to apologize, Logan. I understand. I’m surprised you’ve held it together this long.”

Logan refused to make eye contact with Roman. “I still should not have behaved in that manner. Especially after everything you’ve done for me, I shouldn’t be lashing out at you, I am alive because of you, I should just be grateful for that- “

“Dr. Taylor, will you please look at me?” When Logan didn’t move, Roman took his hand under the surgeon’s chin and gently lifted his head. His heart nearly broke at the shattered look on Logan’s face. “See? I’m not mad. What you’re feeling is normal because what you’re going through is hard. It’s okay to get frustrated.” Roman pushed back a lock of the cardiologist’s dark hair and Logan’s eyes closed, leaning into the touch. His head dropped alarmingly close to Roman’s forehead and the neurosurgeon shifted to hold his face with both hands. Logan’s lips parted and his gaze suddenly changed to something…insistent, almost desperate. The question he was asking was obvious and oh, how Roman wanted to acquiesce. Maybe he could, maybe it would be okay…no, it wouldn’t be right; Logan was his very vulnerable patient right now and his coworker. Complicated wouldn’t even begin to describe the nature of their involvement. Roman took a step back and cleared his throat, turning to grab the chair and returned it to the table.

“Look, your hand works. You just have to remind your brilliant brain that it does. And it takes time to build new neural pathways so…try again. Write your name, as much as you can.” Logan swallowed tensely, seating himself once again in the chair. He closed his eyes in a silent prayer, willing the pressure in his chest to release. He looked when he felt velvet skin against the back of his hand: Roman was holding it. Smiling gently at the supportive touch, he picked up the second pencil Roman had conjured from his white coat.

This time, he made it through the ‘g.’

****

“Tell me a secret.”

“…what?”

“We’re getting to know each other. Setting aside our differences, becoming…friends. Friends tell each other things so…tell me a secret.”

“We are sitting on a bench on our lunch break in the middle of our workday. What about this setting makes you suddenly want to have an intimate conversation?”

“Deflecting…”

“Oh, for heavens’ sake, fine!”

“…Paging Dr. Taylor? Are you actually going to say something?”

“I…I want children. Or at least a child. I want to be a father.”

“Well, that’s a mighty forward proposition.”

“Dr. Courtland…”

“Oh, hush now, you know I’m kidding! But why is that such a secret?”

“Because no one expects it of me. People see me as cold and emotionless; no one would think me fit to be a father, much less have a desire to raise children. I’m not like Patton; I don’t seem like ‘the type,’ if you will.”

“I don’t agree with that at all. I think you’d make an excellent father. You’re very practical and you’re extremely dedicated to your patients. There’s no way that wouldn’t translate over into being a parent.”

“Oh…well, uh, thank you. I, uh, believe it is your turn.”

“…I have a twin.”

“In addition to your four other brothers?”

“No, he’s one of the five of us. His name is…was Remus.”

“Was?”

“Truth be told, I don’t know if I should be saying is or was about him. I don’t even know if he’s alive or not.”

“Roman…”

“He was a surgeon in the military. Reconstructive surgery was technically his specialty but over there he functioned mostly as a trauma surgeon. He loved it; he was never phased by gruesome injuries or the horrors of combat. He just did his job saving as many lives as he could so they could go on to keep ours back home safe. One day, their compound was raided and…he was never heard from again. A lot of soldiers died that day but…they never found his body.”

“Oh, Roman…you have my deepest condolences. The amount of grief you’ve had to endure…it’s quite unfair.”

“Don’t worry, Specs. I’m all right. I know it may sound…completely ridiculous but he could still be alive. It’s one of the few things I still hope for…that one day I’ll see my brother again.”

“I understand even more why you’re so protective of the brothers you have here now.”

“Congratulations, Doctor. You just figured out why we tell each other secrets.”

****

The first thing Roman felt when he woke up was pain. Pain in his chest, pain in his throat, God, it felt like he was choking on something-

“Roman? Roman, calm down, don’t fight the intubation, okay? We’ll get it out, just hold on.” That sounded like Virgil, why was Virgil taking him off a vent?

Oh. Right. He got shot.

He got shot and almost died.

He got shot and needed surgery. He had just had surgery to take a bullet out of his chest. Chest…cardiovascular…where was Logan?

Roman knew he wouldn’t be able to get much out at first, but he had to try. He took a breath that rattled in his throat and attempted to speak. “Lo…Lo-”

“Shh, shh, don’t try to talk, Ro. I know who you want; I’ll go get him.” Virgil turned to leave, not even making it one step before he was stopped short by a vice-like grip on his wrist. He turned back to see Roman staring at him with wide eyes, almost pleading with him to understand. Virgil nodded; the message clearly received.

“I know you’re grateful. I’m not hurt. I’m just…really glad to see you make it, man.” Virgil left before anyone could acknowledge the tears threatening to stain his face and Roman found that being alone was scarier than it should be. After all, he had no idea where the shooter was; Logan could have hidden him away to fix him, he could still be here somewhere, lurking, waiting to take another shot that would surely end his life this time-

“Roman? Calm down, your heart rate is way too high. Just breathe, you’re safe.” The neurosurgeon’s eyes met with two dark pools of worry and he locked onto them, Logan urging him to match his breathing. “That’s right; breathe with me. You’re safe. We’re safe right now.” Once Roman’s chest evened out, Logan reached over and grabbed a paper cup full of lukewarm water and handed it to the eager patient.

“Don’t drink too fast, Roman. Slow sips. There you go.” A moment of silence passed. “I’m sorry it’s not cold, I couldn’t seem to locate any ice.”

“The…the shooter-”

“Dead.” Logan’s tone was abrupt and cold. “The shooter is dead; you don’t have to worry about him any longer.”

Roman nodded slowly to not aggravate his already sore body any further. “You saved me.”

Logan nodded absently, staring a hole into the linoleum floor. “I know.”

“Then you know…you know I cannot thank you enough- “

“How dare you?” Logan whispered softly.

“Wh- what?”

“How dare you! How dare you just…waltz into my life and torture me and make me hate you then apologize and befriend me and make me respect you?”

Roman’s eyes widened in shock. “I-I’m sorry- “

“No! No, you do not get to apologize because…because you don’t even leave it there; I can’t just respect you, you then start to make me like you and want you around and want to be near you and then, oh God, you even go as far as to make me fall for you! And just when I figure that out, just when I’m finally able to admit the depth of my feelings for you to myself, just when I finally muster up the courage to even consider telling you about how I…feel, then you decide to go and almost die on me?! And on top of it, you make me be the one to have to save you! How DARE YOU?!”

The entire room stuttered to a halt, save for Logan’s ragged breathing. He was outright crying at this point and quite honestly, Roman wasn’t far behind him. “Logan…I’m so sorry- “

“Shut up! Just shut up! Please just…just tell me you want me too. Tell me I’m not crazy. Tell me that I don’t ever have to live without you because today I learned that losing you feels far too similarly to dying myself so if that is not the case…tell me now so I can figure out how to survive.” A long, tense, quiet moment passed before either of them spoke again.

“Logan,” Roman coughed abruptly, wincing as the motion sent shockwaves of pain through his ribs. He cleared his abused throat and tried again. “Logan, look at me.” The dark-haired surgeon looked up into the soulful eyes of the injured man laying in the hospital bed below him.

“Roman, please,” he pleaded, his voice impossibly soft.

“You can survive without me…but I promise you, as long as I am alive, you will not ever have to.” Logan’s head shot up and before he could control himself, he launched into the bed with Roman, just barely remembering to avoid his ribs and all the wires attached to him. He mumbled a hushed prayer of thank you, thank you, thank you as he curled himself into the space between Roman’s body and the railing of the bed. Roman took a moment to settle before he rested his head against the taller man’s shoulder, exhaustion beginning to blur out the edges of his vision. Logan kissed the crown of his head and wrapped his arms around his newfound love in the gentlest protective hold he could muster, allowing the neurosurgeon to succumb to sleep.

“Rest, Roman. I have you. You are safe. You’re safe with me.”

****

Dr. Picani was a typically patient man but this? This argument he was deeply tired of.

“What I fail to understand is how I continually prove myself to be trustworthy over and over again and you continually shut me out!”

“It is not about you, Roman.”

“Then what is it about? Why wouldn’t you tell me about something like this?”

“I’m telling you now!”

“Yeah, two weeks after the fact and I technically had to hear about it from Virgil!”

“Have you considered that. just maybe, I felt some shame? I had achieved six months of solid sobriety and I nearly threw all of that away in mere minutes!”

“You were obviously triggered by something.”

“I was weak! I failed to keep myself together yet again! And if it weren’t for Virgil dragging me to a meeting and convincing me to tell you, I’d probably still be failing.” Struggling doesn’t make you weak, Logan. The therapist scribbled the thought in his notebook, making a reminder to bring that point up later. He was about to interject when he realized that for the first time in a few minutes, there was silence. Dr. Picani’s head snapped up at the sudden quiet to see Roman’s eyes rapidly filling with tears. Well, this is unexpected.

“Roman? What’s wrong? Say what you’re thinking.”

“I…am I the trigger? Have I pushed you too far?” Good job, Roman, the therapist praised silently, way to take ownership!

Logan’s stomach churned guiltily at the tentative question. “No. You have gotten so much better about that. You did nothing wrong, you are perfect, it’s me, I am…broken.” Logan cursed himself internally for how his voice cracked at the end of his sentence, but he had to keep going. “I want to be good enough for you, but I constantly fail you and I don’t want you to see it. But I fear that one day you will and the fact that I love you won’t be enough to make you stay.” And good job being honest about your fears, Logan. These two have come so far.

While Roman knew just how necessary it was for Logan to admit how he felt, God, how it broke Roman’s heart. He reached out slowly and touched Logan’s hand, chest tightening even more when he felt the muscles jump under his palm. He breathed a sigh of relief when the brunette managed to make eye contact with him, the shared gaze giving him the courage to continue.

“Logan, you’re forgetting one very important thing. I love you too. I don’t want you to be perfect. I want you to be you. Yes, you are strong and brilliant, and I love when you are confident and at your best. But I don’t just love you then. I also love you when you’re hurt, when you’re scared, when you’re less than perfect. Lord knows that I am all those things and you don’t shy away from any of that with me. We’re all a little bit broken but we need each other to keep ourselves together. So, yes, I want you to be strong and healthy but if you can’t be? If it gets hard for you to be that? I still want you.”

“All of me?” Logan whispered.

“The whole damn thing.” Roman paused suddenly, a moment of deliberation passing through his eyes. Logan watched as he seemed to come to some sort of internal decision. He felt the grip on his hand tighten into a gentle squeeze…and then gasped as he watched Roman slide off the couch they shared and drop to one knee.

“Oh my God,” Logan choked out. A loud clatter sounded in front of them as Emile dropped his notebook, both hands flying up to either side of his face,

“Oh my God!” Roman chuckled damply at the poorly contained squeal.

“Save it for the end, Picani.” He pulled out a small black box from his pocket, relishing in the way Logan’s eyes lit up at the sight of it. “I’ve been carrying around this thing for weeks wondering when the right time to ask you was, but truth be told, I could have done it anytime. I didn’t have to wait for some perfect moment because every moment is perfect with you. An appropriate time period in our relationship didn’t need to pass because every minute that goes by is another minute that I am undoubtedly grateful to have spent with you. I didn’t need a counselor to tell me if I’m making the right decision. I just need to look at you and see that all my futures, all my forevers and tomorrows live in your eyes. You are the answer to every question I’ve ever had, even the ones I didn’t know I was asking. So today, I am not proposing marriage. I am affirming my sure commitment to you for the rest of my life. The ring is yours today, tomorrow, and for years to come. There’s no time limit, no expiration date. All you have to do is take it when you’re ready.”

Logan sat in stunned silence as his mind turned over every word of Roman’s confession. Slowly taking the sapphire studded ring from the now open box, he turned it over in his fingers and watched as the light danced with the gems, searching the depths of his heart for any hesitation. He handed the ring back to Roman and slowly turned his hand over, palm facing down.

“Put it on me. I’m ready.”

The squeal that Dr. Picani let out threatened to break glass.

****

“Patton, I must insist that you let go of me before you completely cut off my oxygen supply!"

Patton somehow managed to squeeze Logan even tighter for the briefest of seconds before releasing him.

“Sorry, Doc, I’m just so darned excited for you both! Virgil, isn’t it just amazing? They’re getting married!” Virgil chuckled at the giddy look on Patton’s face.

“I swear, you are a living heart eyes emoji. And yeah, it’s pretty damn cool considering you guys hated each other when you met.”

“My God, you would bring that up,” Roman rolled his eyes as Logan and Patton collectively groaned. Patton delivered a playful smack to Virgil’s arm.

“Virgil! Leave them alone, they’re in love now.” Virgil raised an eyebrow down at his partner’s glossy eyes, almost feverish with excitement and something close to…envy? He elected not to comment as turned to embrace the newly engaged pair one more time.

“Whatever, I know the truth. But seriously, congratulations. I’m sorry I’ve gotta run, I’m assisting on a general surgery case and I’ve gotta change out of chief attire. I’ll see you both later this week, celebratory sushi? Friday night?”

“You bet, Tickle-Me-Emo!” Virgil glared at the nickname as he disappeared into the bathroom of the attendings’ lounge. Patton went in for the hundredth hug and jumped as his pager suddenly went off.

“Uh oh, gotta run, looks like a crash C-section. Congrats to you both again! Bye!” he shouted boisterously as he ran down the hallway.

“I’m afraid I must depart as well, my love. It does not inspire respect in my residents if I’m late for rounds.” Roman beamed at the cardiac surgeon, seemingly unaware of anything he just said. “What?” Logan asked hotly.

“You called me your love. You claimed me.” Embarrassment curled up Logan’s neck as he shook his head fondly and leaned in to kiss his now fiancée.

“You are so endearingly sentimental. I will see you at home, my love.” He smirked as he walked out of the door at the way Roman’s knees seemed to buckle just the smallest amount. The neurosurgeon stood in the middle of the room chuckling to himself when he heard a low, smooth voice speak up behind him.

“You’re engaged?” Roman turned around, his face falling in sympathy at the person behind him.

“Oh, Declan…yes. Yes, I am.” The fellow surgeon turned his face to the side to hide his tears, displaying the long scar that ran down the left side of his face. Without warning, he was suddenly being embraced by Roman who seemed to be unable to stop his own tears as they soaked the corner of his scrubs.

“You know, if Remus were here and we weren’t already married by now, we could have planned a double wedding,” Declan murmured.

“He would have loved that. He loved you so much.” Declan pulled away, his glance suddenly dropping to the floor.

“I wish I could tell you what happened to him.” Roman placed a hand on the orthopedic surgeon’s shoulder.

“It’s okay. I know you weren’t there. You couldn’t have done anything to change it.” Declan smiled weakly, nodding a silent goodbye before leaving the room. He paused at the doorway facing the empty hallway.

“Congratulations. Really, you deserve to be happy.” Roman let out a small sob as Declan left, swiftly brushing the tears away before heading to his own rounds.

Neither of them remembered that Virgil was in the bathroom, listening to their entire conversation…and absolutely seething with fury.

[starbuck]

Terror Notes: “Go For Broke”

well… I guess I’m really doing this! Some proper, bullet-pointed notes for each episode of The Terror, starting with ep 1: Go For Broke!

I wrote these out last night (and edited them this morning to make them readable - you’re welcome!) so I hope that y’all enjoy my thoughts and assorted nonsense! I tried to save my comments for points I actually wanted to make because I feel like they bring something to the table but I still ended up writing A Lot lol

I love that Crozier couldn’t even be bothered to be present in welcoming Sir John and Fitzjames onto Terror, making Little and Hodgson do it by themselves. One could argue that he had important captain-y things to be doing at that time or something but I’m not 100% sure that wasn’t the case. 

idk if it’s just the angle, but I paused the episode just as the shot of the officer’s mess is coming in from above and Hodgson’s hands make me so uncomfortable. They look so bone-y and weird. (Just what you came here for, I know. Hand commentary.)

Cannot tell you how uncomfortable it is, after many rewatches, to listen to Fitzjames recounting in a casual, lighthearted manner 1) shooting people 2) people catching fire (and burning to death), and 3) their burning flesh smelling “like roast duck” (so, like something edible) and it’s even more uncomfortable to have the closeup be on Hodgson’s face as he laughs at the ‘roast duck’ comparison.

On a lighter note: I love that Fitzjames felt the need to remind everyone what size cherries are by illustrating it with his fingers. In case they forgot, I guess? As someone who occasionally speaks unnecessarily with my hands, big mood tbh.

I LOVE it when Fitzjames gives Little that affirmative tap on the arm after he compares Fitzjames’s injury to Lord Nelson’s. My friend Eli and I refer to it as The Fitzjames Arm Tap. I would like a Fitzjames Arm Tap, pretty please.

God, Sir John loudly setting his hands on the table to try to dispel the tension from the ‘birdshit island’ debacle as he attempts to change the subject is so funny. I’m gonna stop just pointing out things I find funny soon, I swear, but I just cannot handle this scene.

Between Hodgson looking horrifically embarrassed by Crozier’s outburst at Fitzjames and Little looking nervous when Crozier shoots him a look as Sir John says that there’s no reason to be concerned about the ice, it really does seem that they were having to ‘manage’ him even back in ep 1 when his alcoholism wasn’t completely out of hand.

Personal sidenote about this: My Pop-pop is often rude to workers in stores and restaurants (he doesn’t drink thank goodness but he has Alzheimer’s coming on which has worsened his temper) so I very much understand the feeling of being on-edge that an outburst is going to occur and trying to deal with the fallout when it does. Just going by my own experience, I can imagine Little apologizing to Fitzjames for Crozier’s rudeness as soon as they were out of Crozier’s earshot (not that anything Little could say would heal the deep psychological wound that Crozier created but hey, it’s something).

The way that Sir John brushes aside Dr. MacDonald’s and Crozier’s concerns about moving Young when he’s in such bad shape never fails to upset me but also ~foreshadowing for hauling the ill on boats oooohhh~

I said I was done pointing out random things that amuse me but the speed and agility with which Des Voeux pops out of the hatch and onto the deck after Orren falls into the water is just so funny. I could watch that two second clip on repeat all day. Might gif it so I actually can.

Is this a good time to point out that there’s also a scene in Moby-Dick where someone falls from high up on a mast and drowns? It’s in a chapter all about bad omens experienced by the crew of the Pequod and The Terror definitely has some similar vibes going on with the sun dogs displayed in the establishing shot of Erebus in that scene and David Young, a “warning of things to come,” on his way over.

The second(?) time I watched the part where Young tells Stanley that he didn’t think anything of getting headaches since he’s always gotten them, I had this thought pass through my head that was like “oh god, I had chronic migraines for years so I’d never have known if I had lead poisoning either!” but then I realized that this probably was not a relevant concern I should have.

Not sure I have any deep commentary on this but as Gore informs Sir John and Fitzjames about the blocked propeller, he’s standing in the same spot, in the same room as Goodsir will stand next episode to tell them about his death.

Also regarding this scene, I love how Gore waits for Fitzjames to give him the go-ahead to leave before actually going. I know that Fitzjames is his superior officer too but, since Sir John already dismissed him, it seems like waiting for Fitzjames’s approval isn’t really necessary, yet a nice thing to do. Perhaps this is a legitimate formality, but something similar happens later in this episode in the command meeting when Crozier asks Gore how many sun dogs he’s seen; he looks to Fitzjames and waits for his nod before answering Crozier. He doesn’t look to Sir John, he looks to Fitzjames. I know that we know essentially nothing about Gore but like.. underrated ship???? Just saying…

Ten nights ago, I was unable to get to sleep for at least an hour because I started thinking about David Young’s saying “I want to go to my grave as I am” and, of course, that ultimately doesn’t happen for him but also, this, like all things about him, is a “warning of things to come.” I’m pretty sure that no one else was properly buried until, arguably, Fitzjames and ironically, that was explicitly not what he wanted done with his body (and, since his grave was later looted by Hickey, similar to the way that Young’s autopsy ultimately achieved nothing, it didn’t really matter anyway).

I know that this happened exactly ten days ago because I forced myself to wake up and write it down in my notes app, lest I forget, which only prolonged my sleeplessness. I suffer for my analysis. 

Ah yesssss Tozer’s lesbian haircut. We love it! Why does my hair not look like that when I take a hat off? I’d like to file a complaint.

Was just thinking the other day about how Hartnell being the one to notice that there was something up with the ice in ep 1 is followed up on with Blanky complimenting Hartnell’s ability to read the ice to Crozier in ep 7. I wonder if Blanky ever gave him like. ice-reading lessons after becoming aware of his interest and natural talent at it in ep 1? That makes me happy to think about.

The two people who we’re shown awoken by Young’s screaming are Sgt. Bryant and Morfin and like. Do I even have to explain why that’s an Oof?

The way that Goodsir hesitates before knocking on Stanley’s door and Stanley irritatedly closing his book before answering the knock in an exasperated voice would be comedic in any other context. If I’m being honest, it still makes me laugh. As does Stanley’s “As if that weren’t plain.”

I’ve pointed this out before but mmmmm... that shot of Stanley in profile with the open candle flame in the background… the foreshadowing in this ep is thicker than the smoke at… Oh alright, I’ll stop. 

God, the autopsy/dive scene…. Collins being lowered down and entering the water paralleled with Goodsir’s initial cutting into Young’s corpse, the breaking up of the ice paralleled with the cutting of the bone-saw. But most significant to me is the parallel of what is seen/not seen and the long-term effect that this has. Collins sees Orren’s corpse (and then presumably never tells anyone about it), reinforcing his guilt over Orren’s death, the beginning of his mental health decline. Goodsir doesn’t see the cause of Young’s death in his autopsy and this not knowing about the lead poisoning until it’s too late to do anything about it is the cause of many of Goodsir’s later problems as well. And, to finish it all off, both the autopsy and Collins’ dive were ultimately for nothing (considering a spinning propeller is useless when your ships are frozen in). 

Crozier and Blanky’s simultaneous face journeys as Sir John rambles on about how there’s nothing to worry about and they’ll find the passage any day now are truly legendary.

I wrote some pretty extensive tags on this already but man… Crozier’s comment about how not all of Sir John’s men returned from one of his previous arctic expeditions is just so nasty and awful. Like, yes, Sir John is wrong to undersell the danger they’re in and Crozier is advocating for the correct position here, but that was completely uncalled for and horrible to say, particularly in a command meeting, in front of so many people. And Sir John looks legitimately upset by it too. He gets over it quickly, at least on the outside, but I still feel really bad for him (and I NEVER feel bad for Sir John so this is weird for me).

“But of course we will not be abandoning Erebus, or Terror…” Let’s check back in six episodes and see how that’s going! 

Crozier slamming his fist on the table to prove he’s not being melodramatic reminds me of this one post (that I sadly can’t find rn) about Jesus Christ Superstar that’s like “‘CUT OUT THE DRAMATICS’ Judas hollered dramatically.” It’s such an Overall Mood.

I don’t have a developed commentary on this at the moment but it’s an interesting reverse-parallel that Sir John had no concern for Young’s well-being when he was alive, ignoring Crozier’s concerns about moving him from ship-to-ship when he was in such poor health, yet now that he’s dead, Sir John is the one to recommend that Young be buried which Crozier is surprised by, and seems to feel is unnecessary.

There’s been so much amazing commentary already made about Young’s burial scene so I’ll skip it except to say that Hickey’s irritated sigh when he hears footsteps coming towards the grave is SO funny. That’s exactly how I feel when I know that someone is about to tell me something that will annoy me.

Goodsir was really getting into the emotion of Sir John’s “eulogy”/motivational speech before he remembered the promise he made about Young’s ring. Also, what triggered his memory was Sir John saying “We shall earn our loved one’s cheers and embraces,” so no doubt a reminder of the traumatic “Your loved ones will be there in Heaven to welcome you! :)” “I never knew my mother or father” exchange (or maybe just a reminder of the fact that he was supposed to get Young’s ring to his sister but just let me scrape a little humor out of this. God knows I need it).

The shot of Bryant praying in his hammock the night before they get completely frozen-in is honestly deeply upsetting to me. Especially considering he’s a marine so he Did Not Ask To Be Here, yet there he’ll die.

According to Melville, ship’s compasses occasionally spun round-and-round when a ship was caught in a severe storm and this was an incredibly upsetting thing to behold because of how disorienting it was. So, considering that, Fitzjames keeps his composure pretty well but he clearly has some reservations about how things are going and Sir John has no comforting-sounding remark about ‘Magnetic North’ to offer him now.

The bit where Sir John “sees” Crozier, on Terror, turn away from him with a half-smirk on his face is interesting because there’s no way he could have possibly seen Crozier’s expression at that distance and I’m doubtful that he’d even have been able to make out the identity of anyone he might have been able to see on Terror’s deck. So really, it speaks mostly to Sir John’s mental state; his seeing their getting frozen in as a loss against Crozier and imagining that Crozier would see it as a victory for himself.

Ugh the final shot is making me think about @catilinas’s post comparing a shot of the two ships stuck in to the shot of the ink drops from ep 3 and I am LOSING IT but I was losing it anyway because it’s 2AM now and my entire body feels like gelatin. 

THANK YOU AND GOODNIGHT! 

SEE YOU NEXT TIME!