#so i have to go through the additional process of seeking out help at some point. if that is even plausible.

[creaturefeaster]

I remember a while back you talked about color quest writing and that you were going to share the story by the end of the year. Is this still happening? I know you have a lot on your plate Im just so curious

Oh, it is definitely still happening! Probably a little later because of some really unforseen events o_o but, monthsssss of work have already been put into this iteration of the story, and I'd really like to get out at least a small chunk of the beginning out to you guys by maybe January or February.

I think the biggest hurdle is figuring out the best way to share it with people. That, and I want to include some visuals here and there where I can in the written form, so I have to be mindful of that as well. Much to think about still.

[dovesndecay]

I'm trying very hard to reconcile my own personal instinct to recoil from people being encouraged to try homeschooling with my own knowledge that the American education system is designed to be inconsistent, abusive, and beyond substandard. I do completely understand why people want to pull their children out of it.

But as someone who fell into the cracks between Homeschool and Formal education, I sincerely caution parents seeking to homeschool their children to be very careful in how you go about it

There are laws governing who can and how you can homeschool that differs from state to state. In some places, you can be any ol' Joe Blow off the street, pull your kids out, and teach them whatever you want. In some, you have to have a background in education, or you have to teach a specific curriculum. And in others, there's a mix between the two extremes.

Sometimes you have to keep and send transcripts, and if you continue the process through to "graduation", there may be no standard for issuing a graduation certificate that they can use in the future as proof of education. My diploma that tells employers I have the minimum education in the US was printed off of Google in 2009.

In Louisiana, at least in the late 90s/early aughts, all you had to do was let the school board know you intended to provide education at home, register a "school name" and then re-send that registration each semester.

I was pulled out of school in the year 2000, iirc, following a move from New Jersey to Louisiana, where I was actually significantly behind due to the differences between the grade curriculum in each state. In NJ, I was learning the times tables for the first time, and in LA, we were supposed to be dividing fractions. And then, Katrina hit, and we moved around a decent amount, and for the years between 2005 and 2009, I think I just didn't exist as far as the educational system was concerned.

I was a fat undiagnosed neurodivergent queer biracial kid with heap loads of trauma, and the struggles I experienced within the formal education system were absolutely hugely informed by those aspects of my existence. I was being bullied for all the reasons, struggling with my neurodivergency that made all my schoolwork so damn hard, and my family -- already fairly outside of the societal norm in a number of ways, while fitting in perfectly well in others -- did not have and was not provided with the resources to effectively ensure an accessible and consistent form of education for me.

The education system in the US is not just one type of failure, and taking it into your own hands, in my experience and the experiences of many other formerly homeschooled adults, may not do more than give your child a new form of educational trauma.

I cannot do more than the most basic addition and subtraction in my head. I do not have a comprehensive understanding of American, let alone worldwide, history. Science? I got nothing. People talk about learning from the "School of hard knocks" but no, really, I had to learn a lot of practical life skills and knowledge through fucking up and hoping for the best until someone was kind enough to help me out.

(If you've been here on my blog for more than a minute, you might think to yourself, "Reyah, that's still true" and sweet honey baby darling, you're not wrong lmao)

I am lucky enough that my parents are very educated people, were always willing to talk about things with me, and I learned concepts very well through discussion, so I was able to pick up a lot of the skills and knowledge I needed to survive as an adult essentially through social and cultural osmosis. But there's a lot that I missed out on, and struggle as an adult to rectify. (And I'm not even going to pretend that there isn't a lot that I had to unlearn.)

So instead, I exist as someone failed by the educational system in a country that, in my opinion, nearly deifies diplomas to an unhealthy degree (no pun intended), and there's a lot of trauma tied up in that.

To make it super clear: College websites give me panic attacks, and there was a period of time where I absolutely browsed those sites as a form of self-harm. (I no longer do this, I promise)

And I want to be incredibly clear that I am not saying that our children should simply continue to be suffering under these incredibly abusive systems, or that you shouldn't give homeschooling an honest to goodness attempt. Especially if the public system is unsafe for your child.

I don't blame my parents in the slightest for the situations we were in during my childhood because I can pinpoint the specific systems that failed my family every step of the way. Education, healthcare, employment, housing -- none of those systemic failures are the personal fault of my parents doing their best in a country that was not designed to actually help people in need.

I also cannot say that I would have been "better off" staying in public school. Maybe I would have been in some aspects, and worse off in others. I know several recently-dropped out young adults that did so due to a hellish combination of abuse, bigotry, insufficient or outright being denied accommodations for disabilities, and more. I can't say that I would have had a better experience than them, or even a particularly different one, if I had remained enrolled.

I have a good friend, only slightly older than me, who had a very similar experience to mine who is now a college professor, and is still unpacking the traumas of his experiences. I cannot sing his praises enough -- he's probably the main reason I feel remotely confident talking about this at all, let alone in a public forum. I have a lot of personal shame wrapped up in my lack of formal education, and his ability to be open about his schooling history has greatly informed my own to an incredible degree.

I hope that talking about my own experiences with homeschooling will give parents the opportunity to avoid putting their children through similar trials to mine, whether by seeing the pitfalls early enough to detour or by seeking other means to provide safe and accessible education to their children.

If homeschooling is something your family is genuinely interested in pursuing, I would ask that you seek to work with local teachers, your libraries, mental health professionals, and seek out the experiences of homeschooled adults. Especially from those who have similar difficulties to your child.

Most importantly: Listen to your kid, and if they can't advocate for themself, for whatever reason, you need to be prepared to step in for them. (Even against yourself, sometimes.)

[scarletwritesshit]

🌊 Neuvillette x Reader 🌊 Flooded by Life

Despite how hard you’ve pushed yourself, how so very badly you wanted to commit to your goals, things felt as if they crumbled ever further in your hands with every attempt to pick yourself back up. In what was all too short of a timespan, you experienced the entire nation of Fontaine on the brink of collapse, and staying on track with recovery has been no easy feat. The physical and mental wear was becoming quite taxing on your body, yet despite those close to you suggesting otherwise, you were insistent on trudging through the recovery process. Even your beloved Neuvillette has insisted that you take a step back and focus on yourself before continuing repair efforts, yet much to his disdain, you insisted that you were fine and that the time for rest was not necessary.

You could lie to yourself all that you wanted, but things were never going to improve should you consider trudging along in such a way. The thought of seeking out assistance from Neuvillette had crossed your mind multiple times, but you knew quite well that he was already busy with his own tasks. He may have been honed by thousands of years of experience, but that didn’t mean that you wanted to further add onto his burdens when you were but an individual, compared to the numerous peoples that comprised the population of Fontaine.

When he had a moment to spare, Neuvillette proposed allowing you to use him as a shoulder to lean on, nevertheless, you were confident that you could handle your burdens alone in the long run. Unsurprisingly, this was doing you far more harm than good. You could attempt to hide your worries all that you want, but they were something that you could not keep locked inside your heart forever. Your true feelings were bound to seep through the mask eventually.

Neuvillette, though still inexperienced in the intricacies of human emotion, was not blind to something being amiss, especially with his beloved. He took note of the drastic drop in your mood, even when you were attempting to fake positivity in a feeble attempt to soothe his worries. One bad day would not be the cause for anyone’s concern, but as the stress wore away at you, the damage was clearly being shown over an extended period of time. He would give you curious glances, wondering where all of your energy went, and was quite puzzled in regards to the cause behind your nerves constantly being on edge.

His concern grew greater with each passing day, until Neuvillette eventually pulled you aside to seek answers for himself. His prodding was gentle, but you still dreaded the conversation that was yet to come.

"You have been acting most unusual lately, dear," he said to you in a soft voice. "I cannot help but wonder if something greatly ails you."

Despite his gentle inquiries, you were rather reluctant to fully open up to him. His eyes were full of concern and sorrow, but he hadn’t quite found the proper words to express his concern for you. Your silent response did not satisfy him in the slightest.

"I do not believe that there is no cause for concern, otherwise, you would be in far better spirits," he continued.

"Its fine, Neuvillette. Your burdens are of a far greater scale than mine anyways," you said, attempting to divert his focus.

"This so-called scale has no bearing on me, as I have made the oath to watch over every person of Fontaine. You, especially, are no exception to this," he said.

He was so incredibly insistent on aiding you that it felt practically impossible to decline his assistance at this point. Against your better judgement, you once again replied with an "its fine," and averted your gaze.

"My intention is not to pry so deeply into your problems, but I cannot provide you with a solution if you are so avoidant in accepting that, perhaps, some assistance would do you well."

"Still," you said, "I don’t wish for additional burdens to weigh so heavily upon you."

Neuvillette rested his hand on your shoulder and began to gently rub it. Even when he was holding back, you could the immense strength in his hand. He was well aware of this too, as he was clearly holding back in his best effort to not accidentally shatter your body in his loving hold. For being a Dragon Sovereign, the softness of his comfort was still a bit surprising to you, as you knew very well that if he lacked self-control, he wouldn’t hesitate to lovingly crush you with all of his physical strength

"Seeing you worry without a clue as to what ails you puts me in greater pain than you could imagine," he said.

"I’m sorry. I ultimately didn’t think for it to be a relatively big deal."

"Nonsense, my love. Is something overtaking your mind that I could perhaps be of assistance in remedying? If I cannot provide an immediate solution, I can at least stand by your side as someone willing to listen.

With such sincerity in his voice, it was rather hard to decline Neuvillette’s offer of assistance, no matter how much your thoughts attempt to tell you otherwise. His eyes were full of gentleness and a deep concern, and there was no doubt that a part of him was fearing the worst for you.  For the sake of putting his mind at ease, you decided to confess that perhaps, you weren’t exactly in the greatest place right now.

"It’s a combination of far too many things," you admitted, "trying to recover, repair relationships, catch up on life, everything.”

Neuvillette nodded his head in understanding, as if a feeling he has had for quite some time now was just confirmed.

"It’s overwhelming," you continued, "I can’t have a single moment of peace with so much to do and so much weighing me down."

"The dark circles beneath your eyes have very much alluded to such a case," he said, taking his hand and gently brushing aside your hair. "I have been fearing you collapsing due to exhaustion at any moment."

"But it’s fine," you once again insisted. "One way or another, I’ll have to power through."

"Forcing yourself to carry on only yields results in the short term. Expend too much of your energy now, and you will find yourself out of commission longer than you would’ve personally expected. I’d advise you to slow down and rest easy now, lest your health becomes irreparably damaged."

Though he did indeed make a sound point, you felt as if he was blowing things way out of proportion.

"Humans are more fragile than you realize. If you allow for the rising tide of life to wear away at your body, your soul will erode faster than you would think."

"Don’t you have other, more important things that need attending to?" you said, pointing at the stack of unfinished documents on his desk.

"A few moments of delay matter not, especially once all energy to carry on has been exhausted. At least for now, please set your worries aside and take a breather."

"Fontaine...your work-"

Neuvillette abruptly cut you off before you could finish your sentence.

I must admit, perhaps I have not been listening to my own advice and taking a moment to rest. For quite some time, I have been supporting Furina a great deal from behind the scenes, in addition to the stability of Fontaine itself. In the more recent years, I have not had taken even the briefest of moments to have some time to myself," he said, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"I’m...sorry Neuv. For causing you to get sidetracked," you said.

"Nonsense. In fact, I should probably be thanking you myself," he said.

The long period of stress that had been weighing heavily upon you was staring to boil over. Neuvillette could see the tears that you were so desperately attempting to hold back begin to form in your eyes.

"For what? For getting in your way?" you said, choked up.

Without hesitation, Neuvillette wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close into his body. The speed in which he did so almost threw you off balance, causing you to almost fall forward into him. His hold on you was strong, even stronger than how he normally tended to hug you. Somehow, he made feeling as if you were about to have every bone in your torso shattered into a rather pleasant, soothing experience.

“For reminding me that I, too, need to take a step back and focus on what’s really important,” he said, moving one of his hands up to gently stroke your hair.

[lady-of-imladris]

CHAPTER 5 - PLAYING WITH FIRE

Synopsis: Thranduil fights a dragon, Anarríma is... not happy about it. When he comes home, he is not the same anymore.

Word count: 4.6k

Pairings: Thranduil/OC

Warnings: smut, battles, death

Additional tags: SMUT, breeding kink, bondage

Link to the chapter overview

Read the end notes for a special announcement!!

You drew up some good faith treaties I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone You said I have to trust more freely But diesel is desire, you were playin' with fire - The Great War (Taylor Swift)

The early years of their marriages were happy. Filled with joy and laughter and passion. The people loved their king and queen and Thranduil and Anarríma loved each other. There seemed to be no evil left in the world, only light and happiness. Anarríma often travelled to Lothloríen to visit her parents, and sometimes to Rivendell to see her sister Celebrían and her nephews Elladan and Elrohir.

But recent years were not so kind to them. Reports reached the king and queen, of a gigantic serpent that spewed fire, terrorizing people far up in the north. Thranduil sent out scouts and their worst fears were confirmed. The threat was real and something needed to be done. Queen Anarríma begged her husband to seek council with Elrond in Rivendell and Celeborn and Galadriel in Loríen, but he refused. He had sent word of the threat to Elrond, who had dismissed the reports as human superstition.

After a lengthy and heated discussion, Thranduil convinced his wife that their best course of action was for him to go north with a small party and investigate. Eliminate the threat if it was within his power. The silence between them was tense as Anarríma helped Thranduil put on his armour on the day of his departure. “I will not be gone long, meleth nin,” the king promised. She grunted in response. He had refused to let her come with him. He could not bear it when she was angry with him. “I do not accompany you either when you visit Lothloríen, so there is no reason for you to come with me now. Besides, someone needs to keep this kingdom running.”

She glared up at him. “I am visiting my mother. You are running off to hunt a dragon. That is hardly the same.” Thranduil bit back a remark he would surely have regretted, but Ana shot him a look that told him that she knew what he was about to say. “Thranduil I swear to Ilúvatar if you are comparing my mother to a dragon right now, I will make your life hell!” Thranduil started laughing. He couldn’t help himself. Anarríma’s fist connected with his arm. “Do you think this is funny!? You could die! I could lose you! The entire kingdom could lose you!”

Tears were streaming down her face when Thranduil had finally processed her words. “I will return to you. I swear it.” He wrapped his arms around his reluctant wife and pulled her against his chest. The cold metal of his chest plate did little to comfort her. Nevertheless, she leaned into his embrace. The king ran his hands through her hair and whispered sweet words into her ear as they stood there. A knock interrupted them. “Aran nin, we are ready for departure,” a guard called from outside. Ana pulled away from Thranduil. “Go and kill that dragon,” she grumbled, “and then come back to me.”

Thranduil moved to kiss her on the lips, but she stopped him. “No. You have to earn that privilege.” She turned his face slightly, kissing his left cheek instead before turning away from him. Anarríma could not watch him walk through that door. It did not matter if she looked or not. Thranduil was gone and she had to pick up the pieces. She allowed herself five more minutes before going to the bathroom, splashing her face with some cold water to conceal the fact that she had been crying. Anarríma put on her crown and an ornately embroidered robe and made her way to the throne room. The kingdom would persevere.

Thranduil and his group followed the forest river upwards, making their way towards the Ered Mithrim. They buried the charred remains of the villagers which confirmed that they were on the right track. The hunting party made their way west, crossing the rivers that would merge into the Anduin further south. The weather was good and they were certain that crossing over the Misty Mountains would not give them any trouble. Until they encountered that which they had been hunting for. The dragon.

The king had been a young prince during the War of Wrath and yet he had been there to witness Ancalagon the Black. He had seen Elrond’s father Ëarendil kill the beast. The dragon they were dealing with now was obviously much smaller. Still, Thranduil wished that Ëarendil were here now to take this task off his hands. He’d even be grateful for Elrond at that moment. But it was just him and his men. Too few he had brought on this quest. But they had no choice but to kill the beast. The dragon had seen them already.

He dispatched his fastest rider, and dearest friend, Feren to the nearest elven kingdom - Rivendell. “Tell Elrond we need reinforcements. As many soldiers as possible.” He took off fast, stealth was of no use anymore. Thranduil and the rest of his men got into position and drew their weapons. “Goheno nin, Ana. I have no choice,” he whispered under his breath. The king did that, which he had hoped never to do. He drew his swords and approached the dragon.

“What foolish creature dares to disturb me,” the dragon asked calmly, its voice not indicating any plan to attack. “The King of Lasgalen,” Thranduil answered, the voice he was using usually reserved for particularly annoying members of his council. “And what do you want?” The monster was playing with him. “I seek to end you,” he told the dragon truthfully. It threw its enormous head back, roaring with laughter. It was off-putting not only to Thranduil but also to his men. Their king was a fearsome warrior, did the dragon have no sense of self-preservation? Or were they all doomed?

It took the dragon a while to stop laughing. Thranduil just sighed and shrugged. “If you leave the shores of Middle-Earth and vow to never return, I will let you go free,” he offered, hoping the dragon would accept, but knowing that it was highly unlikely. The dragon chuckled dangerously. “Stop playing for time, princeling and attempt what you came to do. You will-” Thranduil did not wait for the dragon to finish his sentence. He gave the archers the command to fire. And a storm of arrows hailed down on the dragon. But none could penetrate its thick skin.

The next hours were spent running, dodging, shooting, slicing and stabbing. Thranduil’s best warriors died. One after the other he lost them all to the fire. The dragon taunted him, made fun of him, called him a fool and weak for daring to defy it. Thranduil did not care. He only had one thought left in his mind. Anarríma. He could not die. He had promised her he would come back. In a last, desperate attempt, Thranduil managed to distract the dragon by redirecting the sun with his swords, causing the glittering stones in the mountains surrounding them to sparkle so brightly the dragon could not look away. The king attacked the dragon from the side, thrusting his sword into its eye, but it was too late for him to move out of the way. The fire burned him.

The world was dark around Thranduil. Dark and hot. So hot it felt freezing cold. He heard someone call his name but whether or not it was real he could not tell. He was floating “Ana,” he whispered, “goheno nin.” And then he was gone.

Feren groaned loudly as he lifted Thranduil onto his horse. “Ana,” he heard the king whisper. Feren huffed a laugh. “If you survive this, my friend, she will kill you.” Elrond had foreseen it all. When Feren had arrived with the message from the king, he had told him that it was out of their power to do anything now and he had sent Feren back to save the injured Thranduil. “Stupid Elrond and his stupid visions,” Feren grumbled and mounted the horse.

The next time Thranduil awoke, everything was too bright. Everything hurt. And Elrond’s face seemed to be floating over him, appearing almost translucent. Then he passed out again. The following week passed in a similar manner. When the king was awake, there was only pain. And when he was asleep there was also pain. But she was there as well, dancing in a meadow in that damned purple dress he loved so much. In his dreams, she laughed and smiled. And she was pregnant. Thranduil smiled in his sleep, making Elrond smile as well as he tended to the king’s wounds. Let him be happy for a while. A bitter awakening waited for the Elvenking.

“Thank you, Galion,” Anarríma yawned as she accepted the letter without looking up from the papers she was looking over. Ruling a kingdom took a lot of work, and Thranduil had been gone for far too long. The queen was working from sunrise to sunset, and on this day, she had not even changed out of her nightgown yet. She sighed and leaned back in her chair, absentmindedly opening the letter from her sister. The soldiers that rushed in, reacting to their queen’s blood-curdling scream only saw a piece of paper, slowly slipping out of Queen Anarríma’s shaking hands. “My Queen?” one of them approached her carefully, “Your majesty, are you hurt?” Ana did not react. Galion, who had come running just after the guards had entered, commanded everyone to leave the room. He knelt down beside his queen. Galion picked up the letter and read it hastily.

“My dearest sister, It is with a heavy heart that I must inform you of the incident in the Hithaeglir. The Lord Elrond has foreseen it, too late for us to interfere, and the dragon was too great a threat for such a small force to handle. His Majesty the King has been gravely wounded and he will have to remain in our care for the time being. He has not yet awoken but rest assured, he will recover. As for your soldiers, you have my heartfelt condolences. Lord Feren, beside your husband, is the only survivor of the group. You may wish to come at once, but I beg you, please reconsider. Your most important duty and privilege is, and will always be, to serve your kingdom. I wish you courage and strength in these dark times. Celebrían, Lady of Imladris”

The king was wounded, healing in Rivendell, and Anarríma was here. Galion put the letter back on the desk and decided to forgo all decorum, taking the queen’s hands in his. “Your majesty,” he tried carefully, but her gaze remained fixed on the loose thread on the curtains she had been wanting to cut off for the longest time. The queen shrugged off the butler’s hands and rose from her chair, walking slowly towards the window. She reached out, forcing her hands to stop shaking, and carefully ripped the stray thread away, inspecting it briefly before letting it fall to the ground. “I need the addresses of the families of my husband’s guards,” she commanded Galion without turning around, “and let my maids know that I will need help getting dressed.”

Anarríma thought that it would get easier, but it did not. With every house she visited, it just became harder and harder to tell them that their beloved father, brother, or husband had been slain. Every single stop on her tour was the same. The people were happy, albeit a bit confused, as the queen came to visit them. She told them that their loved one had passed into the Halls of Mandos. They cried. They screamed. They begged for it not to be true. And Ana had to fight against the tears every single time. “I am so sorry,” she told them every time, as if it had been her fault, because to her, it felt like it was. She had sworn to protect those people, and she had failed.

Feren’s mother was the last on her list. Galion had suggested the queen should also bring the good news in person, not only the bad ones. She knocked on the door hesitantly. The Lady Alweth had been like a mother to Thranduil. After his own mother had not been able to care for her son, Feren’s mother had taken over, and she would have loved the king like her own son, had King Oropher not forbidden her from seeing him again after the young prince Thranduil had called her Naneth once. Thranduil had never told Anarríma what had happened to his mother and she did not dare to ask him.

The door opened and Alweth emerged, hair tied back, wearing a flour-covered apron. She smiled widely and bowed her head when she saw the queen. “My queen,” she greeted, “please, come in.” Anarríma walked through the door, holding up her hand, indicating for the guards not to follow. “Sit and say your bit,” Feren’s mother commanded and pushed the queen into a comfortable chair by the fire. “Feren is fine,” Anarríma said and she could see Alweth relax instantly. “And Thranduil?” she asked concerned. Ana sighed and let her head fall back. “He lives.” “And the others?”

Anarríma shook her head and let the tears fall freely. “Gone. All of them gone. How can I expect the people to trust me as their queen if I fail to protect them? I cannot do this anymore Alweth.” Alweth dropped a slice of freshly baked cake in front of the queen. “May I speak freely, your majesty?” Ana looked up at her and nodded. Alweth had visited them often after Oropher’s death and she had become very fond of the “little Lady of Loríen”, as she had called her. Alweth sighed deeply and plopped down on a chair next to the queen inelegantly.

“He left you weeks ago, dear. Has anything burned down? No. The kingdom is safe, and if I had to guess, I would say that you are weeks ahead on Thranduil’s paperwork.” “Spit it out Alweth, you did not ask permission to speak freely for nothing,” Ana mumbled. “To be honest, you look awful. The kingdom is fine, but are you? When have you last eaten, or taken a bath, or even slept?” The queen seemed to shrink back in her chair with every accusation. “And what would the king think of such negligence?”

When Anarríma had returned to the palace, Galion noticed that she was looking better. In truth, he had scheduled the visit with Alweth not only so that Anarríma could deliver the news, but he knew that Alweth would insist to take care of the queen. She even managed to smile at him as he arrived to pick up the letters she had written. Two of them. To the Lord and Lady of Imladris, and to Thranduil. The queen seemed to be in somewhat of a better mood, but the content of the letter to Elrond and Celebrían was brutal. Had Elrond not shrugged off the warning from Thranduil as he did, this whole situation could have been avoided.

“My dearest Lady Celebrían and Lord Elrond, I thank you for handling the situation as well as can be expected. If only my husband had notified you of his plans earlier, then you could have sent reinforcements and the whole situation could have been avoided. Please arrange for the bodies of our soldiers to be returned to us at your earliest convenience, their families deserve to bury them in their homes. Queen Anarríma of Lasgalen, Lady of the Woodland Realm”

“Thranduil, Your kingdom is still standing, take your time. You idiot. Ana”

Thranduil chuckled when he read the letter, the entire left side of his face stinging so badly that he groaned loudly. Elrond had healed him to the best of his abilities, but the scars would remain forever and he would never regain vision in his left eye. When the king had first seen his reflection, he had smashed the mirror against the wall and refused to eat, drink, sleep and speak. He was angry. Mostly at himself, but also at the whole world. How could he return home like this? How could any child that he might have with his beautiful wife ever look at him and not be afraid of its own father? He was a monster.

Mithrandir had come up with the solution. Elrond had sent for him, hoping that Thranduil could be healed, but there was no healing for the wounds the dragonfire had caused. Mithrandir had taught Thranduil a simple spell that concealed his injuries. It was hard for the king at first, and holding it up caused his head to hurt. He often lost control over it in the beginning, scaring his young nephews one evening, as he read them a bedtime story. The pain would remain, Elrond had told him. It would improve over time, but he would never fully recover. Within weeks, Thranduil had mastered the spell, easily upholding it without having to pay any attention at all. Yet he hesitated to return home.

His best warriors had died. He blamed himself. Anarríma was alone. He had almost made her a widow. What would have become of their realm? Who would have attempted to take the crown from her, with no heir to the throne? The letters kept coming. His wife had been patient until Elrond had told her the truth. Thranduil was fine. Perfectly healthy. Anarríma’s next letter was less friendly. Thranduil would have to return home. He did not wish to face the consequences of his actions and the wrath of his wife. Just the former was bad enough.

Their reunion in public seemed very affectionate. But Ana knew that Thranduil was hiding something. He refused to go to bed with her, telling her he needed to work and not exiting his office for three days. On the third day, Anarríma threatened Feren until he finally told her the truth. Thranduil was still wounded and would never fully heal. She barged into Thranduil’s office that evening. “My darling, what can I do for you?” He smiled at her. She squinted. His smile looked different. “My love, it has been days since your return.” Thranduil turned his attention back to the papers on his desk.

“You refuse to join me in bed. I have been waiting for you,” Ana said seductively, hoping he would take the hint. “My apologies, I have been quite busy.” She huffed a laugh and threw her arms up in defeat. It was hopeless. The queen walked around the king’s desk, took the papers out of his hands and sat on his lap. “My love, I-” “Shut up,” she interrupted him, reaching between them and opening Thranduil’s pants. “Ana,” he warned her. His cock was hard and he groaned as she ran her hand up and down his shaft. Thranduil grabbed her wrists and rose from his chair, pinning her against his desk. Anarríma saw something flicker across his face, apart from the burning rage and desire.

“You can stop pretending now, I know the truth,” she hissed at him. His hold on her wrists was uncomfortably tight. He released her and took a step back, turning around. “And what is the truth, wife?” Wife. He had never said it like that before. “You are hurt. You will never fully recover.” Thranduil stormed out of his office and started pacing up and down in their bedroom instead. “Sit,” he ordered. Anarríma sat down on the bed and he came to a halt in front of her. “Don’t scream.” Thranduil’s face twitched in pain as he partially let the spell fade away.

“Oh Eru,” Ana gasped in shock as she looked upon her husband’s face, the skin slowly disappearing, revealing the deep wounds in his left cheek. Neither of them knew what to say. Anarríma was crying quietly as she inspected the damage. “You must be in so much pain,” she whispered with a shaky voice. She took his hand into his and slowly pulled him onto the bed next to her. “I want us to change sides on the bed,” the king confessed. “Of course, my love. I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.” He shook his head and sighed deeply before removing the rest of the spell, revealing his eye. “I told you once that I want you to be the first thing I see when I wake up, and the last before I go to sleep. I will never regain vision in my left eye, so I need you to be on my right side. Always.”

Thranduil carefully laid down, his head on his wife’s lap. “You killed a dragon,” the queen said quietly and began to run her fingers through Thranduil’s hair. She was afraid to touch him, he knew it. “But at what cost, meleth nin?” The tears that ran down Thranduil’s face hurt him, even with the added layer of protection the spell provided. Elrond had told him that he should try not to cry, but how could he? His men were dead and he was not, and he was glad. “I had a thought,” he tried to broach the subject as gently as possible. His wife nodded at him, telling him to go on. “If I had died, what would have happened to you? To our kingdom? I’m certain our people have accepted you as a ruler but we have no heir. Who would carry on our legacy after you? You could not have remarried after my death.”

He looked up at his wife as she processed his words. He pressed a soft kiss against her stomach over the thin fabric of her nightgown before sitting up. “We will not leave this room until you are pregnant,” he ordered. Anarríma swallowed. “Yes, my king,” she answered him shakily. “That’s my good girl. Now spread your legs, I want to taste you.” She gasped, thinking about all the times she had wrapped her legs around his head. “But what if I hurt you?” When she looked into Thranduil’s eyes, Anarríma fought the urge to back away from him. She had never seen him so full of desire before. “I must simply tie you up so you can’t move,” he stated plainly as if it were the only logical choice.

Anarríma gasped when she felt the silk restraints being pulled tightly around her wrists, thighs and ankles. She could not move in the slightest, however hard she tried. He had pushed her nightgown up to her waist, happily noting that his queen was not wearing any underwear. “You remember our safeword, my love?” Thranduil asked before settling down between Ana’s thighs. She nodded. “Yes.” The king wasted no more time. The queen moaned loudly as she felt his mouth close around her clit and suck it harshly. She had been untouched for months at this point.

Thranduil began thrusting his fingers into his wife hard and fast as he pleasured her with his mouth. When her moans and whimpers became louder and more frequent, and her breathing quickened, he stopped. He chuckled at her sounds of protest and rose from the bed, taking his time to undress, before returning to the bed, slowly stroking his cock. The king removed the restraints and almost ripped his wife’s nightgown as he took it off of her. He pulled her against his naked body in a tight embrace, pushing his hand between them and resting it on her belly. “You will look so good when you are round with our child,” he whispered in her ear, “now get on all fours and spread your legs so I can take you.”

Anarríma obeyed. She desired nothing more than to be fucked by the king until his seed was dripping down her thighs. He took his time, approaching her slowly. The queen inhaled sharply when she felt his hard cock against her entrance. “Please,” she begged him. “Please, what?” The queen took a deep breath in. “Please fuck me, my king. I want you to fill me with your seed.” Thranduil laughed. It sounded cruel. “Your wish is my command, my queen.” Thranduil groaned loudly as he thrust his cock into her wet cunt. He had missed her so much. His pace was brutal and the prospect of impregnating his wife spurred the king on even more.

She gasped as she felt one of his hands against her chest, pulling her up against him, as the other hand found her clit. It did not take long for Anarríma to reach her climax and as she gasped and moaned loudly, legs shaking, unable to control her body, she felt Thranduil’s cock go soft inside her. He held her still for a while, both of them breathing rapidly, as he kissed her shoulders. Ana tried to free herself from his grasp, assuming that it was done, but Thranduil’s arms held her back. “Once more, just to make sure,” he whispered into her ear.

Once more turned into approximately ten more times. Anarríma was sure she would be sore for days after Thranduil had fucked her so thoroughly. He had taken her in every position imaginable, moaning the filthiest words into her ear as he forced orgasm after orgasm out of her, filling her with his seed again and again and again, before they finally collapsed on the mattress. The spell was gone and Thranduil’s scars were clearly visible to her. The queen did not mind. He was still hers. She could feel it inside her body already. Elves knew almost immediately when they were pregnant. Anarríma smiled at Thranduil joyfully. She took his hand and put it over her stomach. “We did it.”

Thranduil smiled as he kissed his wife’s forehead. “You earned it now,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him on the lips more lovingly than she had ever done before. “By the way, what did Elrond do to that dragon carcass?” she asked casually, as if they had not just spent more hours fucking than most elves did in an entire decade. Thranduil shrugged. “I suppose he burnt it. But Feren saved some of the scales from its stomach. They shine as bright as the stars. I am currently having them made into a crown.” She smiled as she curled up against his side. “All hail our dragon-slaying king,” the queen proclaimed. Thranduil gently cupped her cheek and tilted her head up. “It is for you, my queen.”

Anarríma smiled hesitantly and kissed Thranduil’s neck, before laying her head on his chest. She could not hear his heartbeat from this side. But she did not mind, at least he had returned to her alive. With a crown of dragon scales for her to wear. Thranduil had Galion give him a report of what had happened during his absence. Anarríma was the queen he needed. She was his bravest warrior. He drifted off to sleep, exhausted but happy, as Ana remained awake. The treasure of a dragon was cursed. Was it wise to wear its scales atop her head? A fluttering feeling in her stomach reminded her again that she was pregnant. As if the child had wanted to snap her out of those negative thoughts.

She knew that this child would be her sunshine, that one little green leaf that remained, even when all the other leaves turned brown. “Legolas,” she whispered, as she put one of her hands over her stomach, on top of Thranduil’s. This child would be her ray of light. And times were about to get dark for Lasgalen.

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[thecooler]

After You're Gone

The funeral ends up being one of the biggest events Ooo has seen in a long, long time. Bonnibel Bubblegum would know that better than most anyone. She’s buried more people than she can count, candy and otherwise. Some amass more of a crowd than others, but nothing else comes close to the ceremony held for Jake the Dog. Or: Jake is dead, and Finn needs help. Bonnie does her best to provide.

Fandom: Adventure Time

Relationships: Finn & Princess Bubblegum, Finn & Jake

Additional Tags: Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Wakes & Funerals, Drinking to Cope

Word Count: 3,000

Read on AO3

The funeral ends up being one of the biggest events Ooo has seen in a long, long time. Bonnibel Bubblegum would know that better than most anyone. She’s buried more people than she can count, candy and otherwise. Some amass more of a crowd than others, but nothing else comes close to the ceremony held for Jake the Dog.

Finn isn’t much part of the planning. He wants to be, or says he does. He follows behind Bonnie as she makes arrangements, as she places calls across the kingdoms of Ooo. She arranges for President Porpoise to have special transportation to and from, and sends word to the human colony to see if they might send a Minervabot. He tells her that he feels useless, that he wants to do something, and so she gives him small tasks. She asks him to fetch her more stamps, and he returns an hour later with a pile of stamps a foot tall, and before she can think, he’s looking for his next job.

It reminds her a bit of when he was a kid, always at her heels, eager to serve. He hasn’t been like that for a long while, though. Over the past few years she’s come to consider him a dear friend and trusted confidant. She doesn’t want him to serve her- not anymore.

So she tells him to go be with Lady and the kids, and he hedges around the concept for a while, trying to poke and prod different ideas out of her. But eventually he takes the hint that she isn’t going to give in and slinks away while she takes care of the rest of the planning process. She stays up too late, and Marceline chides her for it, but someone has to do it, and it can’t be Finn.

And besides, Bonnie had loved Jake, too, in her own way.

Finn does speak at the funeral. There are hundreds of people gathered round, their heads bowed. She thinks, in an ideal world, Jake would have liked his funeral to be a party. He wouldn’t want the people he loved broken and weeping in the wake of his passing. Unfortunately for him, no one really gets a say in what happens after you bite the big one. Jake’s family and friends needed a place to grieve together. Parties would happen after, in the comfort of homes, wine bottles clasped in hands and laughter drowning out the grief, if only for a little while. It’s a process that Bonnie has undergone countless times, and it never does get easier.

President Porpoise is barely comprehensible when he delivers his speech. Viola is more coherent, but tears choke her words. Lady stands up at the front, but she can barely get through a sentence before she’s fallen into hysterics, forced to seek refuge in the arms of her children.

Finn speaks last, and he pauses multiple times throughout, to breathe in sharply, to close his eyes and blink tears back. She hasn’t seen Finn actually cry over Jake yet, and that might be what worries her the most.

“When I was eight,” Finn says, the corners of his mouth curling into a wobbly smile, “our parents, Joshua and Margaret, died.” He swallows, “I didn’t really get it, back then. I kinda assumed they’d be there until I was an adult at least. And I didn’t know how to handle any of it. I took dad’s sword and I smashed a bunch of stuff in the house. Jake was out, doing-” here he laughs, eyes falling briefly to his trembling hands, “well, you all know what kind of stuff he got up to.

“Anyway, Jermaine didn’t know what to do with me. I was having a full-on bazonkers crisis, messing up our whole house with that dang sword, screaming like a demon-” he mutters a quick no offense to any demons in the audience, which earns him a bit of laughter and someone calling out, quite loudly, from the back: “None taken!”

Finn shakes his head, “So he called Jake, and he’s begging him to come home, like,” he waves his hands, “come save me from this crazy flesh baby you donk!” And from where she stands near the front, she hears Jermaine snort and whisper I did say that.

“And so Jake came, and he knocked that sword out of my hand, so-” a brief pause, “well, I bit him, really hard, and then I punched and kicked until I felt like my limbs were gonna pop off. And then I told him that I wanted mom and dad back, and that it wasn’t fair that they were gone when I-” his voice wavers, scratchy with tears he’s strong-arming back. “I still needed them,” each word sounds like it’s being punched out of his throat.

“And he said I know, and then he gave me back dad’s sword and told me he knew a place where I could swing it around as much as I needed. And that’s how we went on our first adventure.” Finn breathes in, holds it, and closes his eyes for several seconds. Though there are several hundred people gathered, the field is silent save for the occasional sniffle or muffled sob.

“I swung my sword a lot that day, and at the end of it, I asked if we could do it again, and he said yeah, whenever I wanted,” Finn shrugged, “and then we did. For years, whenever I wanted, sometimes even on days when he wasn’t really feeling it. We saw each other almost die way more times than any brothers should ever have to, and now,” and now he turns to look at the casket, his head turned so the crowd can’t see.

“And now it’s real. And it’s not fair, ‘cause I still need you, bro.”

Bonnie’s chest feels tight, and before she can think better of it, she’s stepping forward, though she’s not entirely sure what her end goal is. Comfort, of some sort, presumably. But then he presses on, and she hesitantly falls back into place. “But I’ll be okay. I have everything you ever taught me.”

---

After everyone is herded away, Bonnie stands next to Finn for a long time. He stares at the freshly-disturbed earth and says nothing at all. He doesn’t even bother to lie and tell her that he’s fine. She stands behind and stares at her hands, and tries to figure out the right thing to say. She’s always been good at that, in political settings, in public addresses- places where the feelings of those she’s speaking to don’t personally effect her. But this isn’t that. She wants to help, and she doesn’t want him to hurt, and she’s never been much good at that- at not hurting others.

Eventually, as the stars begin to light up the inky night, Bonnie steps forward and places a hand on Finn’s shoulder.

“Do you wanna get a drink?”

---

Bonnie kneels on the kitchen counter, chewing on her lip as she opens and closes cupboards. She hasn’t had much to drink in a good while, and when she does, it’s usually at Marceline’s, and then one of them’s usually in the other’s lap after just one. Eventually, she moves aside what has to be the fifth massive bag of flour and finds what she’s looking for. “Aha!” she holds out a bottle of rum and waggles it.

“Have you... had much to drink before?” she asks, slipping off the counter to join Finn cross-legged on the floor. He has two cups and a jug of dark soda beside him. “This stuff is pretty strong.” He’s an adult now, of course, so it’s not like she has to fuss over him, but old habits die hard, and with Jake gone, she figures that someone has to look out for him.

How receptive he’s gonna be to being looked out for is another topic altogether.

“I mean, I’ve dabbled,” Finn says with a non-committal twirl of his hand. Bonnie infers this to mean that he’s never had anything stronger than watered-down apple cider and bites the inside of her cheek. Finn, brows furrowing, nudges his cup towards her. “C’mon, Peebs. Don’t bail on me now. We’re gonna have fun, right- maybe we can invite Marcy over?”

With a sigh, Bonnie pours what she approximates is a double-shot of rum into the glass, which Finn promptly knocks back without mixing it with the soda. When he starts hacking out coughs, biting out, “Augh! Nasty! Sheesh- you drink this stuff?” between coughs, she can’t help but laugh.

---

Marcy drinking is always kind of weird. For one thing, she can only have red wine and some rosé , unless she wants to risk yarking it back up again, which is never pleasant and always nasty. The other weird thing is that she’s a colossal lightweight and tends to crash after about a glass and a half.

After inviting Marcy, they’d moved back to the treehouse, and Marcy, who’d been sipping a bit on the way over, lasted all of twenty minutes before she was sprawled out, dead asleep, on Finn’s couch. To be fair, Bonnie had warned Finn this would probably happen. But Finn doesn’t seem to mind anyway, because the rum has fully kicked in and he hasn’t been able to stop talking.

“And one time, Jake told me- like- okay, this is gonna sound weird, but, like, he went- inside himself? Like,” Finn made a motion that looked like he was reaching down to touch his toes, but when he bent over too far he wobbled and nearly crashed down onto the floor. “Anyway, and there was a bunch of dudes. Like, inside him, and they were all kinda him, but also not?” he snorted, “that’s stupid- but he swore it was true. Sometimes I think he dreamed stuff and just got mixed up, but I dunno. Weirder things have happened, right?”

He look a sip of his drink- this one is something of an improvised sangria, with the leftovers of Marcy’s red wine mixed with juice they squeezed out of some grapefruit. Finn keeps telling her it tasted like ‘lemon piss’, but he keeps drinking it.

When he laughs, Bonnie can almost see the patchy, ruffled five-year-old boy who she’d found chasing candy citizens with a wooden sword, because his parents had left town and his brother wasn’t much good at babysitting yet. He’d laughed about just about anything back then, and Bonnie can’t help but long for a chance to go back and cherish that time more. Back then, he’d laughed with his whole body, his belly and his shining bright blue eyes. When he laughs now, his eyes look dark and sad and lost.

Bonnie pours herself another drink and nudges her shoulder against Finn’s, “Why don’t you tell me about that time with the Jake suit?” she asks, and Finn lights up a tiny bit more. She smiles and listens.

---

Bonnie is lying on her stomach on Finn’s bed while he lounges on the floor, staring at the ceiling and, in his words, trying not to hurl his whole literal stomach out. Her assurance that he would probably just throw up stomach lining apparently did little to lighten his mood. He groaned and crossed his arms over his eyes, “Tell me a story,” he slurs, “about you and Jake.”

Bonnie blinks, her own mind fuzzy and swirling. She takes a long, slow sip of rum as she attempts to corral her thoughts. She’d spent a decent amount of one-on-one time with Finn over the years, but less so with Jake. They were more the type of friends who hung out in a group. She always kinda suspected that he was lukewarm on her— an uneasy alliance formed because Finn liked them both too much for them to maintain an adversarial relationship.

“I do have one story,” she says, scooting herself closer to the edge of the bed so she can drape her arms over the side. It isn’t even much of a story, really, but she doesn’t have much to work with here. “It was back when you had just met your dad, and you weren’t doing so hot,” which is putting it lightly, but she’s sure that Finn doesn’t need to revisit those old memories in detail. He’s done a pretty good job actually processing it, all told, but still. “Jake was real worried about you— we all were.”

Finn lowers his arm and squints at her, “Is this gonna be a bummer? Because the past couple of weeks have been, like, one long bummer, so I’m pretty set on feeling bad.”

Bonnie takes another sip of her drink, “Nah— I mean, not really? Just trust me,” and Finn sighs and puts his arm back over his eyes. He’s always been good at trusting her, even when he really shouldn’t have.

“Anyway, he came to the castle in, like, the middle of the night, and he makes himself real small to get by the guards cause he knows they’re gonna tell him not to wake me up, and he starts banging on my bedroom door. And, y’know, after the first time with the Lich I got way more into self-defence, so I just about whacked him in the head with a bat. But once we got past all that, he looked at me and he said, Princess, I need help.”

This, once again, gets Finn to drop his arms to his side. Jake had seldom asked for help directly, and certainly not from her. He was a proud guy, and more stubborn than he liked to admit. And she’d busted his chops more than a few times when he was young and rowdy and a little too fond of crime.

“He was like,” here she does her very best impression of Jake’s voice, which she’s keenly aware isn’t very good at all, and it gets a tiny chuckle out of Finn, which is the goal, “Finn’s all messed up, man! I don’t know what to do. You’ve got that big donkin’ brain of yours, right? Do something good with it for once!”

Finn winces, “Ow, Jake. Harsh.”

Bonnie shrugs, “I mean, I guess. I wasn’t really in the, uh, best phase of my life at that point,” which, again, is putting it lightly. She’s thought about it plenty, and if she revisits it while she’s drunk, she’s just gonna end up blubbering, which no one needs right now. “But anyway, Jake had never really asked me for anything before— not like that. So I brought him into my room and we made a plan— or, like, an alphabetized list of twenty-six plans, to be more precise, all about how to cheer you up in various circumstances.”

Finn squints, “Did you ever use any of em?”

Bonnie smiles, “We got through like twenty of ‘em, I think. Between the two of us, we knew you pretty well. Mostly him, though,” she pauses, and her heart feels impossibly heavy. She remembers Jake, sat with his back against her bed, deep dark circles under his eyes as he scribbled out plan after plan. He’d never been good at focusing, but he’d put everything he had into it that night.

“He loved you so much,” Bonnie whispers.

Finn stares at her for a long moment, gaze hazy and unblinking, and then he shifts his arms back over his eyes, and trembles quietly.

---

When she awakens in the morning, the light is offensively bright. Bonnie groans and attempts to roll over, which only demonstrates how much of a giant bruise her body is right now. Did she seriously fall asleep with her head halfway off the bed? Her neck feels like it’s about to snap in half, which is to say nothing about the blistering headache. She groans again and pushes herself upright, squinting around the (again, way too bright) room.

“Hey, babe,” a familiar voice says from somewhere below. Head throbbing with every motion, she turns to find Marceline poking her head up from the bedroom... entrance hole. She never knew what to call that thing. Her girlfriend floated over and shoved a tall glass of water into her hands, which Bonnie slowly began to sip at with her eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“Where’s Finn?” she asks, moments before the ladder clatters against the wood floor, and a blond head pokes its way up. His eyes look remarkably clear, because he’s twenty-one and his body hasn’t realized how badly it hates itself yet.

“Hey, Prubs,” he says, sitting beside her on the bed. She groans at the sound it makes, and Marceline gently rubs her back. “Thanks for, uh, last night. I think I really needed that. The catharsis of it, y’know?”

Bonnie cracks an eye open, “Yeah?” she says, looking him over carefully, even as the sunlight that continues to torment her causes her head to pound like her brain is actively jumping around inside her skull. He looks... well, he looks fine, if you don’t know what you’re looking for. He’s smiling, and his shoulders are pretty relaxed, but it’s in his eyes— those big blue eyes that have always given so much away.

Finn looks at her, and he looks further away than he has in years.

Bonnie doesn’t know how to help. None of the plans she formulated with Jake are gonna work when he’s dead and in the ground. She glances over at Marceline, and when she meets her girlfriend’s gaze, she finds her own worry reflected there. But they both know him well enough to know that pushing will just result in a backslide, in him shutting everything up in a vault and covering his ears.

So when Finn says, “Yeah. I think I’m good, now. I think I’m gonna be okay.” All she can really do is trust him, and hope that he’ll figure it out.

He’s a tough kid, after all.

[probablyhuntersmom]

A Look at Hunter’s Complex PTSD (Part 2)

I forgot to add in the first post last weekend that I am taking excerpts from Parts 2, 4 and 5 of the book ("What My Bones Know" by Stephanie Foo), in case anyone plans to get a copy of it.

I didn’t use anything from Parts 1 and 3, since 1 involves the author recounting her own childhood trauma while 3 is about the cultural and historical events that are tied to the generational trauma in her family and community, which she researched to find answers.

Also..with two of the Owl House specials remaining, which would definitely give us more major Hunter moments…any additions from those two episodes that relate to the book excerpts will be added as new posts, e.g. if any scenes from For The Future are relevant to this Part 2 post, I will be making a post titled A Look at Hunter’s Complex PTSD (Part 2B).

Anyhow if all this sounds confusing now, there will ultimately be one grand masterpost listing every single part. As usual, take care with the warnings of mentions of abuse and trauma ahead. Here goes, for Part 2:

Hunter’s history differs only slightly from the above. He also played a caretaker role to Belos during the latter’s rage episodes:

which shows the failure on Belos’s part, especially since he’s in the guardian/caretaker role, to own, regulate or seek his own help for his difficult emotions, but it imbued Hunter with that sense of feeling “special”. The Golden Guard role was his, and his alone. Belos could then reinforce the whole “wild magic is bad” narrative, exploit how Hunter loved to feel special and wanted, and continue abusing the boy.

But as Hunter tried harder and harder to get Belos to love him the way he wanted, he too experienced a growing vigilance and desperation that was destroying him more and more, as he was worn down further over time.

I’d say it was like this for Hunter too. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t please Belos enough. It wasn't fixing things and it felt as if he was a ship slowly sinking. As his desperation grew, you could say he ventured out further beyond established boundaries, and Hollow Mind was the culmination of the courage and support he spent the previous episodes building up.

He, just like how it’s stated in the book page above, ended up woven more into the world, sewn emotionally and professionally into a network of lives. He made trusted friends and healthier company at last. Ultimately, all those actions he took nudged him along the path meant for him, and it even ended up with him being brave enough to say this in Hollow Mind:

To ask the ultimate question, "What did you do to the other guards?". The question that got Belos to decide “Okay, time to off this Grimwalker and then make another”.

Following that heart-stopping moment, Luz saving his life, both of them escaping, and then the panic attack scene that we all remember, Hunter’s story isn’t over yet. 

With where he is now, in the middle of S3, he might be mentally and emotionally operating in a way that I can deconstruct while we wait for the next episode.

I am inclined to agree with these.

It’s just…so likely for Hunter. It was the case for me, since the first 5 years out of my 7 years of seeing therapists (2014-2020) were either just talk therapy or with ineffective therapists that I didn't trust enough. It felt more like just maintaining healthy enough functioning in my daily life, rather than having what felt like proper breakthroughs.

What Hunter needs first and foremost is to just continue experiencing the precious trust and presence of the good people he has formed good relationships with. Everyone is now in survival mode and would need the same manner of support.

Frankly, almost everyone in the show needs that too. The Isles will be going through some form of collective grief, if not already.

Processing all that has happened to him, in his young mind, will be hell of a lot of work. He can’t nicely fit all of that horror into a framework of cold logic, and I doubt the mess can be solved just by “talking things out”. After all, he has Complex PTSD: and being entangled in damaged formative relationships (Belos and the Emperor's Coven, basically) - not necessarily involving just people, or his relationship with himself, but also himself with the world - is the centerpiece of Complex PTSD.

Cold logic can't exactly help you make sense of why you lacked warmth in your formative relationships (the more technical term is "primary relationships" where your primary caregiver(s), a parent/guardian, is supposed to supply you with security and warmth in their relationship(s) with you).

The clearest analogy I can think of for how he’d need some time before talk therapy could ever benefit him, is when a computer does that thing where it shuts down outside of your control, in order to prevent further damage. When you switch it back on by pressing the power button, it usually acts as if nothing happened before that. This numbing and calmness has been essential in the short-term for Hunter to function, one example being from Hollow Mind:

because his emotions being almost completely shut down here were crucial for survival: for his legs to carry him, with Luz’s help, to escape Belos’s mind. If he didn’t have such a shutdown, he may have frozen in place due to being too overwhelmed, making it harder for Luz to shake him into being lucid to follow her, and Belos would’ve been able to apprehend and capture him all over again in the mindscape.

Survive first, fear later.

There is the possibility that with Flapjack’s death in particular, he might swing towards more dissociation than ever before. The reason why dissociation happens in the first place is because the brain, like the computer, would be overwhelmed if it stayed online any further. It’s a protective built-in mechanism to numb intense psychological pain. That computer can still work overall for some time, but boy oh boy..it would need some repair shop work at some point to even perform basic functions.

If his best friend’s death, by his hands, shocked us in the audience as much as it did, it goes without saying: he himself is carrying a massive amount of shock. The thing is..for the time being his attention is diverted to fighting back and going after Belos, making sure everyone else is safe. But we shall see how his mental state will be after the fighting is over.

This pattern of shutting down/short-circuiting and then coming back online without proper deep healing, would be detrimental long-term if it keeps happening and if it continues past the point where things start to be truly safe for him. It can sadly go on for years if e.g. a child is trapped until they move out as an adult, which would mean the road to healing is having to thaw out of several years’ worth of survival mode and hypervigilance.

To remain isolated would be the biggest obstacle in any stage of his recovery. Thankfully he is now the furthest thing from isolated, where the story left off. Check out how different the screenshots are below omg…the effects of Belos isolating him versus where he is now:

A consistent theme has been an ongoing tension between his fears and what he chooses to do anyway. It ain't just great storytelling, it also feels damn real because I'm willing to bet many of us experience the same tension in our day-to-day living.

E.g. in Labyrinth Runners, the panic attack he had:

is what made the later moment so much more powerful, when he decides to run towards fear to help Gus:

Over time, he has repeatedly made decisions where he prioritizes care for others, the desire for connection and wanting to do what is truly right, over the fear of being hurt and rejected. My personal fave example of how he worries for others’ safety is this seemingly smaller moment, but it’s honestly heartbreaking and reveals hell of a lot about who he is:

He is so terrified that Belos is back, quivering and exasperated, yet he doesn’t want Luz to call anyone else to help them: and in no way does he do this to show off or anything, he wants to protect his loved ones. But this tenacity that exists alongside his gentle spirit is what got him to rebel more and more throughout Season 2, leading him into greater danger and well..unfortunately all of that plot was also building up to what Belos did to him in Thanks to Them.

…yeah. Talk therapy is not what I think this kid needs right now, not till there is restored peace all around him. Because talk therapy requires quite a bit of usage of the brain’s prefrontal cortex - the part responsible for reasoning and logic - and it is activated when we are in conscious control of our thinking. And facts such as “My ‘uncle’ chose to lie to me my whole life” can’t be understood and analyzed in the same way as a math problem can be deciphered :’) How does one make sense of something like that?

Poor Hunter can only accept the reality that Belos chose to do all that, and a key part of this acceptance is to affirm his own strengths and believe he can accept such hard truths. To achieve such acceptance, treating his condition would most likely require subconscious work that is experiential in nature (involving deeper parts of the mind than just the prefrontal cortex) as opposed to just analyzing and taking things apart. Because I don't think simply talking about this:

on top of a childhood of being manipulated, will get this poor kid to where he'd like to be.

My former supervisor calls experiential subconscious work “heart work”, not “head work”...i.e. experiencing one’s feelings and relationships in a safe space. All of Hunter’s military training and duties are most definitely “head work”, all about strategy and withholding trust, which means “heart work” - building trust and finding authenticity in his relationships - has been a new journey for him. His network of relationships and perceptions need a major, positive reframing. And there are so many emotional wounds, oh Titan, so many from Belos.

Hunter is likely to benefit from experiential subconscious work such as the increasingly popular Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR) modality for therapy, because EMDR can be an effective treatment if a client experiences discomfort in the form of physical bodily sensations whenever their trauma is triggered, though it is not necessarily for everyone who suffers from trauma. A Boiling Isles version of EMDR might involve Illusion magic...if a therapist from that Coven can draw out mental images of clients to project into the therapy room, that would be a cool simulation and cool parallel of how therapy works in our world.

EMDR was the biggest, most revelatory thing for me in my own recovery but a coursemate of mine found it to be too much and too direct: instead, she benefited from the Emotion Freedom Technique (EFT) approach which was more physical in nature and relied on tapping acupressure points on the body. Idk, maybe I matched better with EMDR because I have an innate curiosity about things, even if it has gotten me in trouble many times in life (this sounds like Hunter as well) :S Whereas EFT was the better fit for my coursemate because she wanted a sense of attachment and connection with herself via the specific sense of touch.

Disclaimer: I am not yet certified in EMDR, god it will be years before I can afford the training fees but I have been on the receiving end of it as a client in many sessions. So I am no trained expert in it at all.

We see Hunter experiencing physical distress related to his trauma, which is why the EMDR technique, that aims to reduce trauma-related distress experienced in the physical body, could be the right match for him. Since he loves the Ruler’s Reach and Cosmic Frontier, he might like how EMDR is like letting your subconscious re-tell your story as a heroic triumphant story, and the treatment feels like rewriting your painful memories while still acknowledging how they actually happened. Because the treatment helped me learn that it is possible to hold both of those in your mind.

To sum up EMDR the best I can, the client replays their difficult memories in their subconscious imagination. It relies on a phenomenon called bilateral stimulation (BLS) which is related to how making left-and-right motions (e.g. going for walks, or swimming) while holding upsetting thoughts in our heads, helps to reduce the intensity of such thoughts.

The general process involves:

Helping the client prepare an imagined safe place to go to (Hunter might choose his fave location from Cosmic Frontier, since clients can choose fictional places if they like) and if needed, a safe person (he might choose Camila) to come rescue them in their mind, in case revisiting the bad memories becomes too distressing. The therapist gets the client to experience the safe place and person, then describe to the therapist what they see, hear, touch etc with as much detail as possible. There will be several practice rounds in those safe spaces, before the client is supposed to do the same imagination thing with their scary traumatic memories in later sessions: once they are experienced with visiting their safe places.

Desensitizing the pain and distress of traumatic memories, working through only one memory at a time, where the therapist gets the client to hold the painful memory in mind while also performing left-and-right physical movements e.g. client moves their eyes left and right, following the therapist's hand motions. The therapist regularly checks in with how the client feels and also measures 1. the intensity of the client’s distress (using the Subjective Units of Disturbance or SUD scale, on a scale of 1 to 10 where 10 is the highest distress level imaginable to the client) and 2. The strength of the client’s positive belief about themselves (using the VOC or Validity of Cognition scale, on a scale of 1 to 7, with 7 being complete trust in the positive belief). The aim is to reduce the SUD score to 0 or 1, and increase the VoC score to 7, per memory that the client decides to process with the therapist. This would definitely take at least 3 sessions per memory, based on my experience.

The desensitizing step takes multiple sessions (estimated to be 8-12 sessions for simpler traumas, and many more sessions for complex traumas) helps to make room for new positive beliefs about oneself e.g. “I am worthy of love” to take up more space in the client’s mind, while the emotional space taken up by negative beliefs like “I am unlovable” gets smaller and smaller.

In my experience as an EMDR client, you are just supposed to let your subconscious flow and alter each memory during the desensitizing, because it isn’t about how realistic the memory was, it’s about what meanings you’d like to put into the storyline of the memory e.g. going from “I deserved that abuse” to “You know what, I’m gonna try protect myself”. This means Hunter could incorporate his fave fictional scenes and elements into his own story. I found that my brain went from accurately replaying my traumatic memories, to adding in new things or replacing original parts of each memory. And best of all, I wasn’t actively choosing all these changes - I just let my subconscious run on its own, since it is outside my conscious control anyway. E.g. in a memory where my own abusive mother was yelling at me during a car ride, I saw a tall red tree (red is my fave colour and I feel strength whenever I see it) rapidly growing out of the road directly in front of us. It could cause my mother to lose control of the steering and brake hard, and I could quickly unlock the front passenger door to exit the car and run to my own safety. The most real thing about this was that I now got a taste of how it would feel to use strong boundaries with my mother in real life, and the coolest thing was seeing how my own brain went off on its own to write an encouraging story, which is what mattered and allowed my positive beliefs about myself to start taking root. It all started in my imagination, guided by the therapist.

The best way of putting it is..I realized that when the original traumatic events happened in my life, the bad events happened which then installed negative beliefs about myself (and the world) into my brain's programming, breaking my trust in almost everything except my escape spaces like gaming and art. With EMDR, after feeling the safety of trusting my therapist and my safe place, I had to let my brain create the positive version of the above: letting improved versions of those traumatic events be written by my subconscious: which helped to usher in the positive opposites of those negative beliefs.

It would be too lengthy to go into more detail here about how EMDR could help our boi, so I will instead cover that in my future case formulation post that is separate from this series. But EMDR is not the only way to reach a point of having positive beliefs about oneself. Some people may be able to reach that stage without therapy, using resources like a strong support network and doing meaningful work and activities, which is completely valid and fine as well.

EMDR was the tool that helped the book author reach her first ever breakthrough in her mental health journey. It helped her realize that stuff from so long ago, which she thought she had gotten over, needed to be revisited in order for her to start feeling love for her inner child and younger self. Feeling love for yourself and understanding self-love is very hard work, and it’s not the same as shrugging “Yeah, I guess it’s good to love yourself” and knowing it in theory as an observer.

That section of the book is sort of like how Hunter becomes more and more able to draw strength and other positive qualities e.g. courage, trust, etc, from himself, on his own. The rest of the Hexsquad and Camila came in to help and save Hunter first, which gently reinforced a healthy narrative over time that he is in fact deserving of love, getting him to believe along the lines of “You know what, I don’t want to try being useful to Belos anymore, because what he did to me and what he does as the Emperor is wrong”. This understand was further reinforced when he was the one to extend help to Gus towards the end of Labyrinth Runners.

Perhaps the biggest takeaway from this post is how Hunter’s friends helped to positively reshape the way he saw himself, when they modeled how healthy relationships should be for him. Many posts have already made in the fandom about how this was the case in every episode that Hunter was featured in (from Hunting Palismen onwards), so I’ll only show the recent examples from Thanks to Them below:

I like how during all of his screentime, it wasn’t obvious to us whether he had good beliefs about himself, right up until we see him at his happiest, in his cosplay outfit and secondly when he expresses his desires out loud to Belos while being possessed.

Learning healthy behaviours from positive influences outside of himself (sometimes, in therapy speak we call this “introducing a foreign element” outside of the client’s own familiar world, to introduce real change), because he had no reference points to draw upon from his own knowledge, is what got him to begin understanding and believing he deserves better. Such recovery work can’t happen within a vacuum, since no man is an island. Some form of connection is needed as a catalyst.

And ajhdhkjkljdfd I am so so proud of him that he could already practice these modeled behaviours himself at least a couple of times, supported by Flapjack's love, after being equipped with the love he needed:

Now, without Flapjack, I am on the edge of my seat wondering how he sees himself, and while he will never be the same again..I wonder how he will find his way back to liking who he is. I hope to see a more in-depth, layered and raw version of these where he has to face himself...and Flapjack is not going to be there this time..:

Especially since his “I like who I am right now” has been so greatly challenged by Flapjack dying by his own hands.

The author's breakthrough after meeting her younger self in her imagination, during her own EMDR sessions, was that she now understood in her heart, not just knowing in her rational head, that her parents did not provide her with healthy love. With that, it became clear what it was that she needed.

This is crazy important. Gradually, Hunter made his way from merely knowing (suspecting that the 'love' provided for him by Belos was not right) to fully understanding (feeling what love is supposed to be, through his friends and Camila). This concept references what I said very early on in this post about “heart work” vs “head work”. Head knowledge is the knowing part that looks for facts and can be reached quickly, but heart knowledge - trusting, believing, seeing the meaningful significance of something - can be tough to find without the aid of a support network, therapists and any form of meaningful inspiration.

The following life-changing truths that the author found in the challenging parts of her EMDR therapy sessions, are truths that were also revealed to Hunter in his character arc through difficult experiences:

I'm sure there will be amazing upcoming dialogue where his support network and found family help to further reaffirm the positive beliefs that he has began to trust about himself.

And that’s that for Part 2!

I wonder if any of the above was helpful, and feel free to comment and discuss in the notes.

Importantly, to put up a word of caution here: please do not try any EMDR on yourself under any circumstances, of course xD

Which stuff did you guys find the most interesting from this part? If anything above is pretty complex for you, feel free to DM me or comment to ask further questions~~

Part 3 will be posted next weekend.

[marxism-leninism-meowism]

Binding Resources (2022)

So, I think we’ve all noticed by now: GC2B’s loss of quality has led to many people desperate for better and safer options for chest binding. In the past few years, their quality has dipped significantly, sizing is unreliable, binders are cheap and low quality so they start to fall apart rather quickly. Not great for daily use, right?

Because of this, more people have been seeking out alternative options. I’ve tried to gather up all the best options (based on word of mouth, as is tradition in our community) into one post. I’ve only tried a few methods personally, but for reference, I am very much plus size and my chest is currently DD cup, historically C cup (when I tried some options).

If anyone has any resources, advice, or personal experience with any of the companies/brands I’ve already included to add, I definitely encourage you to reblog with additions.

Keep reading below the cut for more info!

Tape Binding

TransTape

Price: Recurring Purchase. $20-$25 for starter kit (incl. 1 roll, nip patches, small removal oil, small salve), $13-$17 for single rolls, ~$90 for ultimate kit (incl. 3 rolls, nip patches, large removal oil, large salve). Subscriptions available.

Wearability: Very good, especially for those with existing health conditions such as asthma that limit the use of traditional binding methods.

Binding: Best for D-cup and lower. Success with larger chests vary from person to person.

Purchase Options: US Based. 3″, 4″, 5″ widths. Four skin tones available, plus four colors and one “inked” design.

Risks: Adhesive reactions, cutting off circulation in chest if done improperly, removal can cause irritation and skin tearing.

I've seen a lot of hype around TransTape. First off, the positives: TransTape is amazing at binding without causing breathing issues or back pain. You can wear it constantly, and it’s super helpful on hot days because you can go shirtless and not worry about your chest. It’s waterproof, as well, so it can last through showers and swimming just fine. BUT you need to know the possible downsides before investing in this method. TransTape is rather expensive, so keep the cost compared to how much you’ll be using each time you bind in mind—you’ll have to keep buying it, as well, so it’s not a long-term investment like binders are. This will take trial and error to know how much you’ll use and how long it lasts, because those things are different for everyone—this is not a low budget option.

This option does not come without it’s major issues, though. TransTape can be very harsh on your skin, even if you do the removal process correctly. This isn’t a universal problem, but even if you’ve never had issues with adhesives, test a strip on the thinnest skin on your chest, NOT your arm or somewhere else with thicker skin, specifically your chest. Leave it on for a few days before removing. TransTape has really good adhesives but even for me (someone who has never had negative reactions to adhesives) the TransTape ripped off a whole layer of skin and caused a lot of red rash-like irritation and some bleeding no matter how carefully I removed it. The adhesive also sticks to your skin for a bit, which is a horrible feeling. I know many people that haven't had all these issues with skin irritation but you need to test it before putting it all over your chest.

KT Tape / kinesiology tape

Price: Recurring purchase. $5+ depending on where and how much you purchase. Generic available.

Wearability: Very good, especially for those with existing health conditions such as asthma that limit the use of traditional binding methods.

Binding: Best for B-cup and lower. Success with larger chests vary from person to person.

Purchase Options: Worldwide. Available in multiple skin tones and non-skin tone colors. Many more brands and purchase options available for kinesiology tape than TransTape, so I can’t get more specific, but there’s plenty of options available.

Risks: Adhesive reactions, cutting off circulation in chest if done improperly, removal can cause irritation and skin tearing.

Using KT Tape for binding has roughly the same benefits and downsides as TransTape. Binding with tape does not restrict breathing or cause back pain, which is a huge improvement from standard binding, especially for people with preexisting health issues. KT Tape, however, has a few differences from TransTape. It’s cheaper, which could be a major plus, but it’s kind of taken away by the fact that KT Tape is typically narrower than TransTape, which means the chest size it can effectively bind is going to be lower unless you’re using a lot more of it and being very clever about placement. The only people I personally know that have success with KT Tape have very small chests.

It’s possible to have similar issues with the adhesive as TransTape, so I highly recommend doing the same strip test on the thinnest skin of your chest, same as you’d do with TransTape. I don’t know the specific adhesives used by each company, but I recommend doing a strip test even if you’ve already done it with TransTape, or if you’re buying a new brand of kinesiology tape. I know people who have had skin irritation with TransTape but none with KT Tape, and vice versa. It’s always best to be sure before causing rashes and skin tearing over your entire chest.

Traditional Binders

Underworks

Price: $32.99 (tri-top)

Wearability: Very good, fairly comfortable

Binding: Very good compression, seen recommended up to H cup.

Purchase Options: US based. White, black, and pale beige skin color. Size XS-3X available. (XS: 28-30″, 3X: 49-52″)

Risks: All the risks of traditional binding—back pain, breathing constriction, pain from wearing the wrong size.

I, of course, remember the old days when people warned against Underworks and touted GC2B as the best binder on the market. Those days are long past, however—and Underworks binders have become one of the most recommended brands. The company and its binders are primarily geared toward cis men with gynecomastia, but include trans folks in their descriptions. (In my opinion, the cis male models of their binders do a bit to boost gender euphoria, but that might just be me). Underworks binders are comfortable and tend to be good at compression, depending on the one you get (tri-top seems to be the best at compression, but others are looser and more comfortable.) Underworks binders also have a lower neckline than some other binders, so if you often wear shirts with lower necklines that’s definitely a plus. The main downsides are that their binders only come in three colors, their only skin tone being a pale beige, and they do not carry sizes over 3X. The company is also not queer-run.

**This review is mostly about the Tri-top Chest Binder, as that seems to be the option that binds the best, but the website has other options, including full-length binders and tank binders.

Spectrum Outfitters

Price: $45 / £38.00 GBP / €43.33

Wearability: Very good, very comfortable

Binding: Very good compression, even for large chests (have not heard specific cup sizes for this one, just recommendations from other plus size trans folks)

Purchase Options: UK based. Offered in four skin tones and a large assortment of colors. XXS-7X sizes available. (XXS: 25-27″, 7X: 47.5-49″)

Risks: All the risks of traditional binding—back pain, breathing constriction, pain from wearing the wrong size.

Spectrum is a UK-based company with incredibly comfortable binders that bind well. I’ve only heard good things about this company’s binders, especially in terms of comfortability. The most common sentiment is that they’re more comfortable or equally comfortable than pre-quality dip GC2B, and bind similarly. Their diversity in skin tone is a definite plus, and their non-skin tone colors are all very pleasing to the eye.

However, please keep an eye on the size chart—I’m not making a fuss about the XXS-7X sizing for a reason. The size 7X is equivalent to Underworks’ 3X, so it’s a bit of faux size inclusivity there. I generally fit into 2X/3X clothing, and based on my measurements, a 7X Spectrum binder would very likely be slightly too small for me, which is pretty disappointing.

Shapeshifters

Price: $85 minimum. Additional $22 for zipper in location of choice, $25-32 for a hood, and $1 for a taper-in at the waist. $115 minimum for custom print binders with ANY design—create your own fabric via Spoonflower or pick one another user already created.

Wearability: Very good due to being made to your measurements. Their optional additions, such as the zippers and relaxed fit, make these binders very accessible for folks with disabilities and/or preexisting health conditions.

Binding: Very good compression. Again, I have no recommended cup size, but due to being custom made they tend to be good at binding large chests.

Purchase Options: US based. Custom-made for your measurements with eight free fine-tuning options. Tons of options to customize since they’re made to order.

Risks: All the risks of traditional binding—back pain, breathing constriction, etc.

Shapeshifters is definitely one of the companies I’ve heard recommended most. Aside from being custom tailored to your measurements, they also use relatively comfortable fabrics, and you can even get mesh binders for breathability, or lace binders for the aesthetic. Since they offer a relaxed fit option, as well, I’d recommend Shapeshifters as one of the best traditional binders for those with asthma or other conditions that might prevent other traditional binders. Their zipper add-ons are also very good if you have limited range of motion.

The main downsides are both due to the nature of custom tailored garments: price point and timeframe. The price point is definitely out of range for a lot of low-budget trans folks, but if you have the ability to splurge for a custom-fit binder, it’s definitely a great option. I don’t believe the price point is unreasonably high, because it’s a small queer-run business, but it just isn’t in budget for many. As for the timeframe, you have to keep in mind that these binders are made to order so they will not be getting to you as fast as a pre-made binder from another company.

GenderBender

Price: $61 for half binder, $69 (cue funny number giggles) for full length

Wearability: Good, especially for plus size folks or those with large chests

Binding: Very good, especially for large chests

Purchase Options: US based. White, black, light skin tone, dark skin tone. XXS-6X sizes available. (XXS: 26-29″, 6X: 59-64″)

Risks: All the risks of traditional binding—back pain, breathing constriction, pain from wearing the wrong size.

Now, GenderBender is a new recommendation to me, so I don’t have much to say about them out of a lack of personal experience and lack of specific recommendations from other trans folks. I do want to point out that their sizing is actually size inclusive, unlike Spectrum—GB’s 6X is ten inches bigger than Spectrum’s 7X. GenderBender also offers zipper binders for a very small upcharge (to clear up possible confusion: unlike the regular binders, the zipper binders are split into two listings on their site—plus sizes are under the “zip plus” listing.) Definitely consider getting one of the zipper binders if getting in and out of binders is an issue for you!

They only have two skin tone options and no fun colors for their regular binders, so that’s a bit of a downside. They do, however, offer swim binders in additional colors, and zipper swim binders, which are worth checking out as well.

If anyone has any more information on GenderBender’s quality and fit, feel free to reblog with your experience!

ForThem

Price: $48

Wearability: Comfortable

Binding: Not great—fits like a high impact sports bra.

Purchase Options: US Based. No skin tones, about ten colors. Seem to offer sizes for up to 60″ chests and be custom designed.

Risks: All the risks of traditional binding—back pain, breathing constriction, pain from wearing the wrong size. 

ForThem’s The Binder has been all over social media ads lately, so of course I had to include a section on it. From what I’ve heard, The Binder is comfortable, but does not bind well—rather, it fits like a high impact/compression sports bra, which is not going to give the compression and flattening most trans folks are looking for.

The website is also hellish to navigate. It took me forever to figure out how their sizing works, due to the “aesthetic” names they’ve given sizes and the way the site is almost impossible to navigate. They also require your phone number to even see the size you need. I could not find out if they offer upcharges for sizes or if they even offer add-ons, either.

I don’t personally recommend this brand, even without having tried it myself—judging by the experiences of others who have tried it, it’s just not worth it. Also: flash/strobe and eyestrain warning for the website, if you plan on checking it out.

Special Mentions

Paxsies - I know very little about this brand, so any personal experience with them is welcome. Only offer up to size 2X.

TomboyX - Offers compression tops, but I don’t believe they are proper binders. Potentially a good option for those that can’t handle traditional binders due to breathing problems. There’s also the issue with TomboyX’s branding being a potential dysphoria point for some.

Binding Info

Now that you’ve got a good picture of all the binding options available, I’m going to take this time to note all the risks and tips I’m personally aware of. These may all be a given for those experienced with binding, but if you’re new to it, please make sure to keep these things in mind!

First, no matter what binder you choose to get, you MUST make sure you buy the right size. Do not downsize with binders—there are so many dangers, from breathing restriction all the way to breaking ribs (yes, that last one has happened). You may, however, size up with little detriment to the binding capability of the binder, and sometimes it makes a world of a difference for comfort. Do not layer binders, as well: that’s a recipe for disaster.

Remember that your comfort comes first, and you do not have to sacrifice comfort for a good bind. Pain does not mean the binder is making you flatter. In fact, it could be just the opposite, depending on the binder.

Give yourself frequent breaks, and do not bind for more than eight hours. If you can, carry a sports bra with you if you plan on leaving home with your binder, so you can quickly change if the binder begins to cause breathing problems, begins to cause pain, or you’re required to run/exercise for any reason.

For large chested folks: I highly recommend zipper binders. Your binder size does not typically change based on cup size, but it WILL be more difficult to get in and out of the binder—a problem that is typically solved with zipper binders.

Keep in mind that if you have a large chest (as in, larger than C or D cup, typically) you will most likely not achieve a perfectly flat chest. Binders can’t make the tissue disappear—they just redistribute it to appear much flatter. Do not downsize if you can’t achieve a flat chest. It will not help, it will just cause you pain and potentially injury. If it helps, look up cis men without shirts—they are rarely flat, whether it be a product of exercise creating buff pectorals, or plus size men having extra chest tissue due to their weight.

Final Notes

These are ONLY the companies I’ve heard frequent mentions of and know enough about to include. Again, if anyone has any more recommendations or additions, PLEASE reblog with your experience—I highly value all input from other trans folks. Even if your experience is contradictory to what I’ve written here, your experience is valuable to give everyone the most information possible to make an informed decision.

Thank you for taking the time to read through this! I hope this post can help at least a few of you with your binding journeys. You all deserve all the love and respect in the world, so know that you are loved, appreciated, and affirmed, even if the people currently in your life don’t.

-bjorn

[em-dash-press]

Why Querying Is Good for Writers

When you’ve finished drafting your first query letter, enjoy the excited butterflies in your stomach. Reaching out to literary agents is a big step!

It can also be a frustrating experience after a while.

People estimate that 96% of query letters get rejected. Many writers would agree with that number. It takes a while to find an agent with the right experience and vision for your work. You might also have to wait for the book industry to find interest for stories like yours.

There are numerous reasons why literary agents reject letters, but what’s the point of trying if you’re going to get rejection notices?

Don’t lose hope. Even if you never get published (which is fine!), you’ll gain these essential lessons from your experience.

1. You’ll Learn About the Industry

You wouldn’t expect the fashion industry to always remain the same. People are constantly looking for new things to wear—they’re also looking for new things to read.

Literary agents keep up with the industry so they know which stories publishers want to sell. When they know what publishers want, they’ll seek querying writers who have those types of stories.

The good news: querying makes you keep up-to-date with book industry trends.

The bad news: that means some of your stories—maybe even your first querying project—might not sell right now.

While you’re querying, you’ll build skills and find resources to help you track book industry trends. You’ll use those skills the rest of your writing life (or as long as you want to get published).

Helpful Additional Resources:

How to Stay on Top of Publishing Trends Like a Pro

How to Keep Up with the Publishing Industry

Writer's Digest's 10 Best Publishing News and Resource Websites

2. You’ll Refine Your Query Writing Abilities

It’s important to know how to format a query letter and personalize it to each literary agent. Although it takes time to write new drafts and research each agent, you’ll refine your query letter abilities.

You’ll know how to pitch your book in a single paragraph, how to describe its marketability, call back to authors with successful, similar stories, and even describe your intended readership. You’ll also get better at line edits and writing grammatically correct sentences in a professional manner.

Your first few query letters may not result in publication, but that’s okay. Your letters will get more direct and professional with each attempt.

3. You’ll Connect With New Communities

Querying is most frustrating when done alone. You might become one of the many writers to join new communities during the process to find people who understand what you’re going through.

You can follow other writers on social media sites and even follow literary agents. Many post tips for genery querying and updates on how the industry is doing as a whole.

There are also Facebook groups dedicated to writers who are querying or seeking other forms of publication. I would definitely reocmmend joining a few. You don’t even have to make posts. Seeing what other writers are experiencing and reading posted tips will change your experience for the better.

4. You’ll Learn to Cheer Yourself On

Receiving a rejection can be hard. Sometimes, it’s just another part of your day. It depends on how passionate you were about working with the particular agent or how exhausted you feel about the process in general.

You’ll learn to cheer yourself on when the tough moments happen. After you have space to process whatever emotions occur after a rejection notice, remind yourself why you wrote your story. Reflect on what made you a writer in the first place. Repeat a few affirmations and stick written copies of them around your writing space.

Learning how to pick yourself back up is useful in all other parts of life too. Find your motivations, your passion, and give yourself a helping hand to get back on your feet on your journey to publication.

5. You’ll Figure Out What You Want to Write About

Sometimes the book industry and readers in general only want to read about certain things. If everyone’s flooding bookstores to find the latest vampire romance, your story about outerspace adventures that point out the failures of economic class structures might not sell.

When you’re ready to put your querying on pause or shelve a work for later, you’ll have to go back to square one. What are the themes you love writing about? Which story ideas make you most passionate about writing?

Going back to those foundational loves will strengthen your connection with your craft. Your writing gets better when you care about the core of each story. That’s a gift that some writers never figure out.

-----

Querying might seem scary, but it can be a great experience. You’ll learn a few of these things along the way and better identify what you want from your life as a writer.

[levmada]

Hi, hope ur having a good day! I really enjoy your fanfics and you are extremely prolific on top of that, I was wondering what your writing process is like (outlining or vibes), what sparks your ideas/motivates you?

wow thank you :D i’m so flattered that you would ask omg😭❤️❤️

for what motivates me… i guess this is a little exposing😭but it explains why i write a lot. out of an abundance of issues past and present, and not much support irl, i fixate on media and fictional universes heavily, and aot is my biggest fixation. i’m kind of constantly treading a riptide of emotional shit, and fiction has always helped me to cope. so when i feel any sort of way… bc im not good at working through or expressing myself… it’s easy to create scenarios out of that.

i have really strong emotions too, so feeling a certain way helps me think of plot ideas that relate. creating is my coping mechanism definitely, but it’s also vital to me being able to express myself.

with the state of fandom, i try not to look forward to interactions that will make me excited to have shared something, but it’s super rewarding when that does happen, so that’s a motivator too.

i get ideas the same way i think most creators do. based off experiences, like a single moment that kind of stains my memory that sticks with me.

DEFINITELY from other media i consume (especially fiction(??) podcasts but im getting back into reading real books). sometimes songs.

i’m really introspective in general which makes me good at various aspects of writing imo. whenever im doing anything (like going out for a walk or something) it’s really easy for me to imagine additional context / characters in a fictional scenario for some reason, so that helps.

if im doing something boring or tedious like sit in traffic i can daydream about a wip and the continuation of the last thing i’ve written for it. it’s like throwing events at the figurative wall and seeing what strikes me as fitting, engaging, or w/e.

for planning, i think im in-between vibes and proper planning lol. i would be noooowhere without outlining at least a little. stick little ideas or things i want to have happen in the order it fits, and sometimes separate them into sections so that writing it seems less intimidating and the process more rewarding. sometimes i write stuff out of order and go with the part i most want to write (which side note i believe is important, if not necessary to helping cure writer’s block).

i almost always have one chapter planned ahead of the current wip, but i play really loose with whatever ending im seeking in exact detail. because in general, it almost never goes the exact direction you planned lol.

so loose outlining! i always have a folder for a fic to throw in ideas or stuff to remember for the future. editing takes far longer than writing for me, just because i fully believe in the fact that being a perfectionist while writing is enormously unhelpful and rly creates stagnation. when i want to use a word i can’t think of, i just put in a placeholder to fix later. having the writing WRITTEN makes striving for perfection much less taxing.

when there’s several characters to keep track of, or important aspects to remember (ie, a character has a drink in their hand), i make a note so i don’t get confused or create inconsistencies.

i write on my phone and computer equally🤷🏻a lot of times with headphones in. it doesn’t matter so long as i have a set time from start to stop that im only writing and nothing else.

[theblackdahliaemporium]

Shadow Work: Part 1

I am going to start a shadow work series, in addition to a few other projects I am doing. This one will not be updated nearly as much. But I do want to start it because I claim to be a Shadow worker, and never share! You can never have too much knowledge. The more you know, and the more you research; the less you know. There is always more books, more classes, more articles, more podcasts, more sources.

With so many new witches starting their paths, or still figuring it out. We are going to start from the very beginning. I wanted to clarify that Shadow work sounds scary. It sounds dark. Shadow work is about developing self-awareness, self-acceptance, and compassion. It is getting to know YOU. Shadow work is a type of Psychotherapy that focuses on the "shadow self". Your shadow self is the parts of the psyche that people often keep hidden; trauma, resentment, etc. Shadow work involves facing those parts of ourselves that we would rather shove in a box, lock up, throw away the key, and just pretend don't exist. Shadow work leads us to take accountability for our triggers and allows us deep healing and release.

Psychologist Carl Jung is known for popularizing the idea of the shadow self, or inner shadow. He has defined the collective unconscious with 8 different Jungian archetypes. -Self: The center of the personality or psyche -- your conscious awareness -Shadow: The dark and emotional aspect of your psyche -Anima: An image of an idealized woman that draws people into their feminine side -Animus: A part of you that has the capacity for reflection and self knowledge -Persona: The mask you wear to show the world while you protect your inner self -Hero: A part of your psyche that can overcome evil and destruction -Wise old man: A personification of the self that contains your wisdom -Trickster: A childish part of your psyche that needs gratification.

Effects of Ignoring your Shadow: -Self-Loathing or poor self-esteem -Self-deceit and deceiving others -Anxiety and depression -offensive behavior toward others -struggling to have healthy relationships with others -self sabotage -self absorption -an inflated ego

When you reject your shadow, you may project onto others. This happens when you see things in others that you subconsciously recognize within yourself.

**Anyone can do shadow work on their own. However, Consider seeking out a licensed therapist for treatment, especially if you struggle with severe trauma. It may be too hard to just use shadow work to heal yourself.**

Your shadow isn't a mistake, or a fluke. It is a natural part of who you are. By accepting your shadow self, you can see how your thoughts and emotions influence your behavior. When you are aware of this, you can take control and empower yourself to live life more deliberately and consciously. You can show up as your authentic self.

So what are the benefits of shadow work? -Gain more confidence and self-esteem -Improve your creativity -Build better relationships with others -practice self-acceptance -Discover your hidden talents -Improve your overall wellness -increase your compassion toward others -have better clarity

Everyone has a shadow, even if you may have heard it through a different name. It doesn't have to be a traumatic association. But the more you can integrate your self and your shadow, the more healthy you will feel. Shadow work is crucial for your personal development to help you become the best version of yourself.

So how do we start? 1. Decide if you'll seek therapy or do shadow work on your own. You don't have to seek out a therapist to do shadow work. However, it can be helpful to have someone else to guide you through the process! 2. Practice spotting your inner shadow. Look for habits! Some habits are good, and some are bad. Patterns tend to replicate repeatedly in your life that can hold you back. 3. Make a list of things that scare you. This can be anything from speaking, to spiders, to being alone in the dark. Once you have your list, pick one fear and visualize facing it. Tip: try incorporating a magical working to banish or repel the thing that scares you. This can be completely visual. 4. Spend some time exploring your desires. What are the things that you want but would never admit out loud? What doesn’t hurt anyone but makes you feel guilty or ashamed? Write them down or draw them out; spending time with your desires can help you accept them and integrate them into your life in a healthy way. Tip: try a gratitude ritual afterward to thank the fear for keeping you safe, but ask it to leave because you no longer need it. 5.Identify an issue that you’ve been avoiding. What are you procrastinating on? What do you keep putting off because it’s too difficult or too painful? Shadow work is about facing your fears head-on, so make a plan to tackle that issue and take action. Tip: Make task planning into a ritual by setting aside a few minutes, light a candle, incense, or whatever lifts your mood. Then brain dump it all. 6.Avoid shaming (or being ashamed of) your shadow Practice loving words of affirmation toward yourself (including your shadow). Some examples include: I trust in you I believe in you I’m glad that you’re in my life You are worthy of love You are enough You deserve to be happy You have a lot to offer 7. Keep a shadow journal. A shadow journal is a safe and practical way to express all sides of yourself. You can let out your thoughts, both light and dark, using the written word. Make it a daily practice to sit down and write in your journal. Don’t censor yourself. Write whatever comes up without overthinking it. At first, what comes up may feel uncomfortable, but it’s important to lean into it if you want your shadow self to feel heard.

5 tips for starting your Shadow work journey: -Keep an open mind -Practice self-compassion -Be patient with yourself – both during the exercise and throughout your journey -Carve out time to focus on your shadow work rather than multitasking -Take time to reflect on your progress

Just as the alchemist mixes their ingredients to suit the desired results, the goal of shadow work is not to eliminate all shadows from your life; rather, it’s about finding a balance between light and darkness. As you become more comfortable with your shadows, they will hold less power over you and you will be able to move through the world and your witchcraft practice with greater ease and grace.

[berrymascarpone]

Oh, I forgot to add my last batch of TYBW notes here, and it’s almost time for the next episode! Anyways, here are my thoughts about episode 17:

1. Hinamori princess carry!! I kind of wanted to see how Tobiume's fireballs would work against Bambietta's technique, since fire doesn't really have a physical body, so how would you inject reiatsu into a chemical reaction, but also idk if the physics really works here anyways.

2. Komamura's clan introducing yet another aspect of worldbuilding that is neither explained nor further explored. It has something to do with the six paths of reincarnation in Buddhism, specifically the path of beasts, and grandpa Komamura mentions that it's to do with their sins somehow, but doesn't Hell already exist for sinners? Maybe some kind of state for people who have not sinned enough to go to hell, or the punishment for a particular kind of sin? I think grandpa doggy mentions revenge later on, so perhaps it's what happens to people who died seeking revenge? But why just revenge, or are there also other states of being for other kinds of sins from life?

3. Callback to Tosen, but I'm not sure exactly how it relates? The moral problem with Tosen's revenge was that he pursued it at the cost of others, but Komamura's revenge attempt came mostly at the cost of his own life, and in fact he helps others in the process. So I don't really see them as equivalent. If the theme is that revenge in general is bad, which I guess I can see as a Buddhist ideal, in the sense that Buddhist philosophy teaches to distance oneself from worldly emotions like revenge because it perpetuates suffering, but I'm not convinced Tosen was all that into Buddhist philosophy, because his main thing was justice, and tearing down the unjust society that was Seireitei.

4. Iba isn't really going to take doggy-Komamura to the palace to fight Yhwach, is he? I mean, obviously he doesn't because I don't recall them appearing again in the manga, and at least Iba is still alive later on, but also I am imagining for the rest of the battle you occasionally see Iba with a giant dog on his back in the background slowly making their way towards the castle.

5. Ah Kensei and Rose! I hope they will actually show some of the fight this time!! Though their appearance is reminding me that Shinji's bankai, and his whole fight didn't really involve any of his Hollow elements, which is kind of disappointing.

6. The descending lights! Rukia, Renji and Byakuya, arriving to save the day, fashionably late as always (and not because they had to stop by Senjumaru's place to get new clothes, nope)

7. I actually really like the additional parts of Ichigo's training, not only because it's more of our best boy Ichigo, but also because it really sets up the eventual revelation of the Soul King and Ichigo's role as potential backup better (instead of having it come a bit out of nowhere like in the manga). Also, I remember in the manga Ichibei was talking as if the Soul King had some kind of will of its own, and is this potentially a manifestation of that? The Soul King testing Ichigo somehow? Or is it Ichibei's scheme all along to test Ichigo?

8. So Senjumaru was on the other side of the torii gate? Judging by the descending lights earlier this episode, Renji, Rukia, and Byakuya have already come and gone? I'm assuming that they didn't also have to go through the soul king memory trial thing, so is there just another door to Senjumaru's place, or is it more space-time shenanigans? Did Ichigo's training take that long? Did he ever meet back up with Rukia in the Soul King's realm? The timeline is as confusing me again.

[sabakos]

"Most everything in Plato [...] contains something useful" I'm curious why you say this. I recall my experience of reading him in school being mostly me going "hmm, there seems to be an unusually high proportion of bullshit here, even relative to what I expect from writers in antiquity"

So I think the way that they teach Plato, and honestly, most other philosophers, in schools really does most of them a disservice. That is, you were probably introduced to Plato and a variety of other philosophers via a collection of excerpts of some of their more famous works, which probably left you with a short, "soundbyte" impression of each of these thinkers.

And I get why they do this, the goal is to give everyone a brief survey so they get a general idea of what's out there and a as no one could possibly have the time to read multiple entire works by Plato, Aristotle, Descartes, Hume, Kant, Marx, Mill, Nietzsche, etc. in a single semester, and even that would be skipping over all but the most important names in the field!

But I find that these short soundbytes usually give most students an impression of these philosophers that's both completely wrong and makes each of them out to be a great deal less complex than any of them really were, which doesn't encourage most people to seek out more information or read any of these philosophers in greater detail.

At a minimum I think you need to read a philosophical work by someone like Plato in its entirety before you can decide whether or not you agree with any of it. And chances are, if you have read any of Plato's works more fully, you probably read it the same way that you would read any work of prose fiction, starting at the first page, working your way through the whole work from one page to the next in chronological order. When I say "read a work in its entirety" I'm generally not referring to this, I think that what you need to do for a philosophical work is what is called "close reading", where you split up a work into its component sections and arguments and evaluate them each on their own merits.

This is... not an insignificant amount of work! Philosophy is a difficult subject to learn, and philosophical literature is some of the most difficult reading material out there. Close reading is not an easy or fast process, and there are no real shortcuts; even consulting secondary literature (usually contemporary scholars are best) is a part of the process. But when I say that "Most everything in Plato contains something useful" what I'm saying is that Plato is worth the effort, that this arduous process of analysis and reading and re-reading pays dividends that reading, e.g. a popular fiction novel about wizard schools does not.

As you mention, Plato does have the additional difficulty that he is a writer from antiquity, which means there's not only a language barrier but a cultural one. In my view it's good that you're aware of this as it will likely help prevent you from projecting your own impressions of the concepts he discusses onto the text, which is a mistake that many people make. I would add the additional difficulty that Plato wrote in a philosophical dialogue form, which few other authors have written in, most of them rather unsuccessfully! In many cases it is notoriously difficult to pin down what Plato actually believed, as if you read enough of him, you will realize that the fact that Plato puts words into the mouth of a character called "Socrates" is not sufficient to say that Plato (or Socrates for that matter) actually espoused that viewpoint. These works are not transcripts of actual conversations by the named speakers, and even the mythological narratives are literary inventions made up by Plato himself. All of this frequently needs to be accounted for in order to really get at what Plato is saying, which is to say that it's a good means of clarifying any arguments that either seem facially incorrect or (more often) unclear. Despite all of this, I would argue (and the many other people who study him would agree, it seems) that he's still worth it, even if you don't fully understand the historical context.

[annaphoenix1994]

Ch.109 - The Rileys - Part 1

Previous Chapter - Masterlist 1; Masterlist 2 - Next Chapter

First of the three-part leg of Simon and Kiera's honeymoon!

Author's Note: Again, I'm so sorry for such a late update. My life has been... a rollercoaster. Since my last update, it's unfortunate to say that things did not go as planned. After my final drop off in Colorado, I was desperate to get back to Montana so when I left northern Colorado, my truck broke down close to the Wyoming border with my horse in the trailer as well as my two dogs with me being stranded in the isolated part of northern Colorado. Luckily, I was able to get in touch with my USRider insurance, which covers a tow for both my truck and trailer as well as getting me and my horse somewhere safe until I could get back on the road. The closest shop that could see my truck was in Parker, Colorado, which is south of Denver, so it put me out of my way by three hours. I spent two days in a Super 8 and when I got the call that my truck was fixed, I had to dive into my savings to get it fixed and back on the road. With no new hauls coming back to Montana, I used the rest of my money for fuel to just get home. It took me nearly four days to get home due to a massive storm that came through Kansas and into Colorado the same day I left. To add more fuel to the fire, during my time on the road, I had completely forgotten that my power bill was linked to my debit card - the same debit card that I had to use to get fuel prior to my big trip, so in short my power had been off since July 18th. So not only did I come home to no power in a massive heatwave, I came home to everything in my fridge completely rotten, including a freezer full of beef I had processed last year from my farm. I don't want to ask for help because I'm stubborn and this is my problem I've gotten myself into, but I've contemplated on opening up my tips box on Tumblr as even a dollar helps me out, but to me, having a consistent reader base and constant support goes further than any dollar will, so I'm just grateful that you all love this story as much as I do. Long story put very short, I'm having to start all over again - literally. I really enjoy writing and I think about this story every day and adding to it, but please bear with me if things look sloppy. I know you guys are eager for my updates and I want to give my audience what they want, but it's just been hard these last few weeks and I'm just trying to get back on my feet and on track. 

I love you all. Thank you very much for reading. I hope to keep updating as soon as I possibly can! - A &lt;3

Las Vegas, Nevada

"Love, I'm not joking: when we get out of this cab, I want you by my side at all times." 

"Aw, come on, babe. I won't go far," She giggled, her eyes glued to the massive structures that lined the Strip. "It'll be fun to get lost in a place like this." 

"I'm not having a runaway bride," He arched his brow. "Especially in a town like this."

"Will there be a punishment for an intense game of hide n' seek?" 

"Oh yes there will." He arched his brow.

"Hm, sounds like a rule I'd like to break..."

"Love, if I wanted to babysit, I would've brought Johnny." 

She laughed, "Bringing Johnny on our honeymoon? Having some extra thoughts there?" 

"Absolutely not." 

"Mhm... I think you are." 

"Those drinks on the plane have been teasing at you, yeah? Sounds like you're the one with additional thoughts that I should be worried about."

"No," She scoffed. "I love Johnny, but like a brother or a pet fish. I'd cry if I had to flush him down the toilet, but I definitely don't want to kiss him!" 

Simon couldn't help but laugh as he gazed out the window, seeing the hotel he had booked for two nights before their flight to Birmingham. "I'll take your word for it. We're here." 

"Where exactly are we going?" She giggled. 

"The hotel, love." 

"I know, but which one? There's thirty million in my eyesight." She exaggerated. 

"You said you wanted to go to Paris, right?" 

"I can't recall," She shrugged playfully before looking towards the Paris Las Vegas hotel. "Is that where we're going?" 

"I figured it was better than some cheap motel with complementary bed bugs and moth balls," He replied sarcastically, smirking when she playfully slapped his bicep, her eyes fixated on the many bright lights that made the Las Vegas Strip. "Besides, this place is better than Paris, France. Trust me." 

She laughed in agreement, "Oh, I know, babe. Paris in France isn't what it's cracked up to be. This is ten times better." 

"I'm glad I picked right, then," He nodded, exiting the cab once the driver had stopped at the front of the hotel, Simon offering his hand to her to help her exit the vehicle before he made his way to the trunk to grab the three duffel bags himself to keep Kiera from doing it. "Let's go check in while I still have you in my sight." 

"You should know I'm not going anywhere... yet," She giggled, swinging her purse over her shoulder. "Let me get one of those, Simon-"

"I got it." He replied sternly, letting her walk in front of him before the bellhop met him with a cart in the lobby, generously helping him set the bags down to help ease the strain from his shoulders. That lass is notorious for packing everything that can fit in this bloody thing, he huffed to himself. She's the reason I pack my own bag. He nodded graciously at the bellhop before making his way to the receptionist, keeping his new wife in his peripheral vision to reassure himself that her curiosity wasn't leading her down a path away from him, although a part of him knew she would easily become distracted. "Good evening, sir. Checking in for the evening?" 

"Yes, I made a reservation last week," He replied, pulling out his phone to show the receptionist his proof of reserve for two nights in his email's inbox. "Riley." 

She nodded, typing on her computer before the confirmation pulled up on her desktop, "Ah! There you are! Give me just one second and I'll print out this form for you to sign and your keycards. Do you have your I.D.?" 

As much as he hated showing strangers his identification card, he did it anyway after taking a long exhale to rid his mind of anxious thoughts, handing it to the receptionist and closely watching her as she keyed in his information for their records. "Alright, just sign this line here. Will you need just one or two keycards for your stay?" 

"Probably two. She'll lose it if we just have one." He said, nodding towards Kiera when she finally made her way to stand next to him at the counter after looking at the many decorations that filled the lobby. 

"I understand!" The receptionist giggled, retrieving the form he had just signed and putting it away in the file folder for their current check-ins and registering the keycards for their room. "You're all set for your stay! Just take the elevator down this hall to floor eighteen and take a right." 

"Thank you." Simon nodded, retrieving the keycards from her hand. 

"You're very welcome! Enjoy your stay! The bellhop is already in route to your room to deliver your bags!" 

He nodded, hating the fact that someone else that possession of his and Kiera's things, but he forced himself to not overreact as it was simply just a person doing their job and not someone with cruel intentions to sabotage his honeymoon. 

Simon was still going to check and be sure. 

Kiera wrapped her arm around his as he escorted them to their home-away-from home for the next two days, the pair looking around at the luxurious decorations and marble floors as they made their way to the elevator. "We're definitely a long way from home." She commented. 

"That we are, love." 

"You don't see stuff like this in Wyoming." 

"No, but Wyoming does have the Grand Tetons," He chuckled. "Which by the way, are named after big tits." 

"What? No they're not." She laughed. 

"I can assure you, that's what it means. When I was in France, I remember hearing locals talking about it - how they laughed at how many tourists travel far and wide to see The Big Tits of the U.S." 

"I can't tell if you're being serious or sarcastic," She giggled, pulling out her phone. "But I am going to look it up." 

"You do that, love," He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple after escorting her into the elevator. "You know, if this elevator didn't have so many cameras, I'd have you pinned to this wall." 

She blushed, "I'm surprised that's what's stopping you." 

"It is because I don't want one of those old men looking at the cameras gawking at something that's all mine. I'm selfish." He explained, wrapping his free arm around the small of her back, pinching her rear discreetly as they stood against the back wall of the elevator, smirking at how she shrieked at his gesture. 

She couldn't help the blush that stained her cheeks at his possessiveness, a warm sensation flooding between her legs as his hand continued to press protectively against the small of her back as they walked along the hallway towards their room. 

Opening the door for her, they both were amazed at the room before them. 360 square feet of pure luxury - elegant carpet, a flat-screen television hanging on the wall adjacent to the lavish king-sized bed, a marble floor to decorate the bathroom with a shower big enough for three people, a separate bathtub and an immaculate view of the Eifel Tower that stood out from the rest of the attraction markings of the Las Vegas Strip. "Oh... My God," She gasped, hesitant to take curious steps forward to look into the room. "This is amazing, Simon."

"Look around, love," He chuckled as he reached for the bags the bellhop had left on the table for them, opening up each one to ensure nothing was missing. I just don't trust anyone. "Where do you want to go first?" 

He watched as she exited the bathroom, turning off the light as she walked towards the bed, running her fingers along the sheets. "I'm fine with staying here for a while. I'm sure this was a lot of money to dish out-"

"Don't worry about the money, love," He cut her off, assuring her that he didn't want her to worry about anything financially. "You tell me what you want to do." 

She hummed, "I mean, can we hang out here for a while? It's only three o'clock." 

"I'm fine with that," He assured her with a grin. "When it gets dark, we can walk around if you'd like." 

"I'd love that, babe," She smiled, slowly approaching him and slowly wrapping her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to press a kiss to his lips while his hands instinctively rested on her hips. "Thank you for this." 

"You deserve it," He murmured. "This is only the first of many surprises." 

"Strange that you're the one throwing surprises when you don't like getting surprises," She giggled. "You're going to have to let me pay for something at least." 

"Not a chance." He shook his head, accepting another kiss from her as his hand couldn't help but slide down to grasp at her rear. 

"Come on, at least something!" 

He shrugged, "I mean, I'm willing to take another method of payment..." 

"Is that right?" She giggled. "Well, I can arrange that." 

"I was hoping so, because I'd hate to turn it over to collections." He poked, kissing her jaw as her arms wrapped around his neck, giggling at his banter. 

"Oh, I definitely don't want that!" She laughed, melting into his touch as he began to guide her back towards the bed, easing her against the mattress as he rest between her legs, caging her between his arms while his lips caged against hers. 

"We can work on a payment plan, love." He smirked against her lips. 

"Did you sneak one of your allies on the plane with you?" She asked, her hips jolting at the faint sensation of a vibration against her thigh, immediately assuming it was that small vibrator she kept in her nightstand. 

"No, I won't need that," He chuckled against her lips, using his left hand to fish his phone out of his pocket, grumbling to himself that it had been ringing in the first place. "It's that son of ours. Wonder what he's gotten himself into." 

"Are you going to answer it?" She giggled, watching him stare blankly at the screen as if he were waiting for Baler's caller I.D. to disappear. 

He shot her a quick side glance, a playful glare before his thumb slide right against the screen before pressing the phone against his ear, "Yeah?" 

"So, uh... I have a question." Baler spoke from the other end of the phone, mischief lacing his voice. 

Simon knew he was up to something.

And he didn't like it. Especially with he and Kiera being distant miles apart. 

He sighed, "What?" 

"Well, technically Soap has a question, but he was too scared to ask you-"

"Spit it out, lad." 

"So you know how Jacob has a full head of hair?" 

"You mean beautiful, thick blonde hair for a one-year-old?" He scoffed. "What about it?" 

"Well," Baler sighed. "Uncle Johnny thought it would be funny to make Jacob look like him-"

"Uncle Johnny is going to be looking like ground lamb if you're not joking," He scoffed, his mood quickly souring at Baler's words. "Send me a picture. Now." 

"What happened, babe?" Kiera asked, her brows furrowing. 

He sighed as he put the phone on speaker, "Repeat what you just said to me." 

"Hey momma," Baler chuckled out of nervousness. "Uncle Johnny gave Jacob a haircut." 

"Baler, sweetheart, you're lying through your teeth, and you know it. Johnny knows better-"

"No, he doesn't, love." Simon reminded her, arching his brow. 

"Baler, do you promise you're calling to tell us our precious baby boy received an unwanted haircut?" 

A few moments of silence pass by. 

"That's what I thought," She commented, reassuringly rubbing Simon's arm while they heard two sets of laughter on the other end of the phone. "He's just messing with you, babe." 

"He better fucking be." 

"Hey!" Baler chimed. "Mom said no cussing!"

Simon huffed in defeat, "Take the phone, please. That lad is going to make my blood pressure go up." 

"You forgot to mute me, dad!" Baler snickered. 

"Did he fall for it?" Soap chimed in from the background. 

Kiera giggled while she took the phone from Simon's hand, rolling over onto her stomach while he stood to his feet to walk across the room to pick up the room service menu, playfully tapping Kiera's rear when he sat back down on the edge of the bed, grasping her ankles and putting her feet on his lap, removing her shoes for her while his thumb gently massaged the arches of her feet while his other hand clasped the service menu. 

"Thanks for raising Simon's blood pressure, you two." Kiera giggled. 

"You two haven't been gone for an entire day and I've been itching to piss dad off," Baler snickered. "Johnny put me up to it." 

"Oh, I don't doubt he did. Jacob still has his full head of hair, right?"

"Yes, momma," Baler confirmed. "I can't say the same about Evie though..." 

Simon's head snapped towards the phone at the mention of Evie's name, "He better be bloody joking!" 

Baler and Johnny both laughed through the phone, "Perfect head of hair still, mate, we're just toying!" 

"You two don't need to be spending too much time together," Kiera giggled. "Nothing but trouble!" 

"Well, I didn't want to call with some boring conversation, momma," Baler chuckled. "Nana hasn't let them out of her sight." 

"I'm glad she hasn't." Simon commented, a breath of relief leaving his lips. 

"What've you been up to?"

"I just got home from school and am about to go take care of barn chores before I do my homework." 

"Good," She smiled. "How are Kimber and Church?" 

"Kimber is annoying. Church doesn't care about anything going on. He likes having the house to himself. Nana has been letting me stay with her so she can take me to school and so I can help her with the twins."

"I'm proud of you, baby," She smiled. "You make sure you keep up with your homework, okay?" 

"I will, momma. I miss you guys." 

"We miss you too. I'm already homesick." 

"Don't be. We've got the fort grounded here. Uncle Johnny is ready to fill in dad's shoes." 

"He has big shoes to fill." Simon commented. 

"I know. I told him that but he says he'd rather fill slippers than clown shoes." 

"Hang up on him." He replied sternly, although both Kiera and Baler both knew that he was being sarcastic. 

"Anyway, I just wanted to call and check in and make sure you two got to Vegas safe. I tried calling your phone, but it went straight to voicemail."

"Awe, thank you. You should know I'm always safe. I'm sorry, my phone died on the plane." 

"Okay, well I'm going to jump off here and finish the barn chores. I'll tell Nana to call you later."

"Okay, baby. Let me know how Sailor is!" She reminded, referring to her horse. 

"I can already tell you how he is: still a prick."

Baler's answer made Simon chuckle, "He's not wrong, love." 

She scoffed, "Whatever you say." 

"I'll talk to you guys later. I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart." 

"I love you, dad!" He chimed, knowing Simon loved him, but he genuinely enjoyed getting under his father's skin. 

"Love you too." 

[synthy-sizer]

You turn back to your desk, once again opening your instant messenger. The ANGEL's strange chat logs are still open, but that isn't the only thing that catches your eye. Your FRIEND's messages are still unanswered from God knows how long ago. They probably deserve an answer as to what has been going on.

Talk to friend>

[Apotheosis91 is ONLINE]

Apotheosis91: Hey, I’m sorry I haven’t been on in a while

Apotheosis91: I actually don’t even know how long it’s been

Apotheosis91: Listen though, something amazing happened

Apotheosis91: An angel is in my room right now and it’s connected to everything in my room, it’s promising me that with its help we can actually find Eden

Apotheosis91: I’m still searching for hints, but I think the angel can help, and maybe that means we can both make it back to Eden

Apotheosis91: Hopefully you’re online again soon because this is huge

Apotheosis91: Back to it now though, I’ll talk to you again soon

[Apotheosis91 is OFFLINE]

You sigh and lean back in your desk chair. Although the update was necessary, the social interaction was still frustrating and tiring. But at least the weight is off your chest now, and you can focus on the more important conversation.

Talk to angel>

[App00thheeeeee is ON99dkkIINENE]

4poth91911: Hello? Are you there?

9000s0mmmmm: INDEED I AM, WORTHY ONE. WHAT WILL YOU ASK OF ME?

Ap3pp33mm: I’m unsure of where to look for clues, I can read the passage but I don’t know how to interpret that into a URLI can use.

OpDKMFMMM…\: WORRY NOT WORTHY ONE, ALTHOUGH I CANNOT PROVIDE YOU WITH DIRECT ANSWERS, I CAN GUIDE YOU ON THE CORRECT PATH. SIMPLY SEARCH WHERE YOU FEEL YOUR SOUL GUIDING YOU.

A99ik…-ppp: Alright, I’ll do my best. But I also have other questions.

8oooKIIIIIo: SIMPLY ASK WHATEVER YOU WISH OF ME

Amkkkkpp009919: I tried to speak to you earlier, but your body seemed completely unresponsive, but you talk to me just fine on here. Why is that?

Kkkrku22,,,: IT IS TRUE THAT THE FLESH IS MY BODY, YES, BUT MY ESSENCE EXISTS BEYOND ITS BOUNDS. BY CONNECTING TO YOUR INTERFACE, I HAVE EXTENDED MYSELF.

Aootppppret1199991: So you can see and hear me through my electronics?

99dkkk.,,,welol: INDEED. ALTHOUGH THE PRESENCE OF THEM IS AGAINST THE NATURE OF HEAVEN, BY USING IT AS A MEDIUM IT IS COMPATIBLE WITH MY SOUL.

002jiiiii2m2mm2m: IN ADDITION, THE MINDS OF MORTAL HUMANS CANNOT COMPREHEND THE ESSENCE OF AN ANGEL, WERE I TO USE MY TRUE VOICE YOU WOULD SUFFER GREATLY.

A00eppppp2p2p99911: Yeah, I wasn’t able to stay conscious when you appeared in your true form.

99(JJDJDMM: YOU ARE LUCKY TO HAVE DEVELOPED SUCH A ROBUST INTERFACE, IT GRANTS ME EASE IN COMMUNICATION AND ASSISTANCE.

00d90i;;/…: APOLLO COMPUTERS ARE ESPECIALLY IMPORTANT TO THIS PROCESS.

28hb’[‘[;kkk: BUT ENOUGH IDLE TALK, YOU MUST CONTINUE TO SEEK OUT EDEN. BY CONNECTING TO YOUR INTERFACE I HAVE AWAKENED ITS FULL POTENTIAL, AND MADE THINGS OUT OF REACH TO YOU ACCESSIBLE. RETURN TO PREVIOUS METHODS.

[../338nnnnmmll is O8rj.fflll/l/]

The angel hasn’t provided you with many direct answers, but you suppose that is the way with holy beings. As the guidebook says, God’s plan works in mysterious ways. At least it has provided some direction. Armed with the knowledge of Genesis, you can now seek answers through your equipment. You can search the INTERNET, use your RADIO, or tune for frequencies on your TELEVISIONS. And moreover, you feel as though perhaps you can finally understand the contents of your CASSETTES properly.

Use radio>

You once again place the headphones of your radio receiver on and confidently turn the device on, tuning frequencies. You are once again greeted by a blend of static and faint voices and music from an endless array of broadcasts, but you’re more than familiar with what you’re looking for. Eventually, after what seems like an eternity, a particularly clear signal comes through. It doesn’t sound like much at first, just white noise, but you notice the unmistakable sound of wind, and the rustling of trees. You can even make out the sound of crashing waves. It’s a soundscape that would otherwise be mundane, but to you it somehow sounds significant. You wonder why.

Use televisions>

You stand up from your desk, walking carefully across the many cables covering the floor, and make your way to your primary receiver. Adjusting the frequency, you watch as the static morphs and bends, and faint views of various broadcasts flicker in and out. But much like the radio, something comes through. A clear image, so clear it feels as though the television screen is just a window, you can see the view of a field. There’s tall, lush grass, a single tree on a hill to the right, and a noticeable stone covered in moss to the left. The entire view is ethereal, but peaceful. You catch yourself touching the screen, as if trying to reach into the field, but only find glass. And just like the radio, you can hear the crashing of waves. You feel certain now more than ever that this is significant, although you can’t figure out how.

Use cassettes>

You walk back across the room, leaning over and opening your bedside table once more, looking at your cassettes. Of course, how could you have been so blind? An angel has been trying to help you this entire time. Clearly, when you cannot understand the clues you’ve found, you should listen to what it has been telling you the entire time. All you have to do is pick up your CASSETTE PLAYER and CASSETTES and LISTEN.

Take cassette player>

You pick up the Marantz in one hand.

[Retrieved CASSETTE PLAYER]

Pick up cassettes>

You grab a stack of tapes in your other hand.

[Retrieved CASSETTE TAPES]

Listen>

NEXT

PREVIOUS

[lilflowerpot]

ok, I have the most important question of all: How are you? Hope life is going well for you right now?

((rambly personal post incoming, you have been warned))

I am,,,,,,,,, learning, I suppose. You know how people tell you that life is less a steady curve of progress, and more a wiggly-woggly mess of ups and downs and tight little knots that no one—least of all you—can make sense of? I think I am in the process of unraveling one of those knots.

Those of you who've been around for a while (or have been very dedicated in combing back through both this blog and my ao3 author notes) may recall that I've had a somewhat contentious relationship with my health for several years now; the short of it is that burnout is no joke, and I've come to accept that due to various life circumstances and the extreme stress caused by them c.2014–2018, the ramifications my body suffered in the years following will... likely never go away completely. My physical health is not what it was, and possibly never will be again, but with the divine combination of medication & love, I'm learning to live with it, so aside from one small scare that saw me rushed off to A&E for an utterly //thrilling// overnight adventure back in july, I am greatly improved from where I was a few years ago.

On a more positive note, I started therapy! Though it's not something I advertise irl due to being quite a private person (and having someone in particular in my life who,,, shall we say struggles with respecting boundaries?) I want to be open about the experience on here, because mental health is absolutely something that should be destigmatised, and I think that my younger self might have reached out sooner had she had more people tell her that it was okay to do so? I started CBT in early 2022, which really didn't work for me because it felt very... focused in the moment? Like "go on a walk! set yourself tasks! simply Do Better :)" and the therapist I was working with did not, to put it delicately, make me feel particularly listened to—by which I mean he would repeatedly cut me off to ask questions......that I tended to be already halfway through answering.

I've now moved on to Psychodynamic therapy, for which I've only had a couple of sessions thus far, but have found infinitely more helpful and suited to the issues I personally need to address; I'm sure you've seen people saying things of this vein before, but I cannot emphasise enough the importance of finding a therapist that works for (and more importantly with) you! So if anyone reading this has perhaps toyed with the idea of therapy, but lost heart (darling, I've been there) then please allow me to encourage you to seek help if you are able. I won't lie to you, it's emotionally taxing—exhausting, even—and already I've cried about things I didn't even know I was still struggling with, but it's also been i n c r e d i b l y cathartic to have a professional with no emotional stake in my life (ie. I don't fear judgement or personal ramification) walk me through the process of untangling it all.

What else... oh, I'm taking up lifedrawing again! It's something I greatly enjoyed during university, and I've managed to find a class nearby that starts up next week, so I'm very much looking forward to that. There are also several additional (and entirely free!) short courses offered by my local college that I'm looking into, in the hopes that I might find some passion and direction for myself beyond where I am rn. As a final note, I've got an exciting personal project in the works that—all being well—I'll hopefully be able to reveal to you all in the coming spring, so stay tuned for that!

So yes, I'm learning, things are looking up, and I'm working my way toward building a modest future for myself, even if it's not at all what I might have expected it to be a decade ago. Life is funny like that.

[circadianaa]

I am in love with you (/p) for using "A Sadness Runs Through Him" for Cadaver. I fucking LOVE that song and it usually fits clones like. So well.

My personal favorite line is "As he asks me to pray to a God he doesn't believe in" in regards to clones like. Viewing Jedi using the force but not actually understanding it or really believing in it. If that makes sense

Anyways 10/10 art and banger song taste

AHHH YES THANK YOU!!! i fully agree a sadness runs through him is SUCH a good clone sonf but to me it is SOOO cadaver like……

my favorite lines (that relate most strongly to cadaver specifically) are

but here was a man mourning tomorrow,

he drank but finally drowned in his sorrow

oh he could not break surface tension

like oh my GOD to me that is so. like cadaver specifically struggles sooo much with like processing and accepting his emotions. he’s struggled with depression his whole life (it’s chemical just as much as it is about his circumstances) but refuses to acknowledge or accept that for fear that it would make him defective, so he just ignores that and ignores his struggles and refuses to ask for help. he does everything he can to work through it and just takes on more and more responsibility and work to drown it all out but he ends up suffocating under the weight of his own self-doubt and the amount of responsibility placed on his shoulders. it’s a cycle of constantly seeking out the short-term relief only for the long-term burnout to come crashing down on him and send him three steps backwards. it’s very much a form of emotional self-harm in order to distract from the pain for him.

i figure i may as well take this chance to share some of my other cadaver songs!!

“who are you really” by mikky ekko is my second biggest cadaver song. it really encapsulates the reality that clones have very little choice in their lives and that cadaver is constantly scrabbling for a sense of control over what’s happening. it also displays cadaver’s unrest with his own identity as a clone; simultaneously feeling as though he is unworthy of the same name as his brothers while also wishing for something more to belong to than a race created for the use of others. it’s confusing and disorienting for him.

so you feel entitled to a sense of control,

and make decisions that you think are your own

[…]

who, who are you really?

and where are you going?

i have nothing left to lose

‘cause i have nothing left to prove

see me bare my teeth for you, who are you?

like ugh listening to that one makes me go fucking insane. it’s so good and it so perfectly captures that “struggling to find direction in chaos” vibe

“gilded lily” by cults is a more recent addition to my cadaver song repertoire. it very much suits cadaver later in and after the war as he becomes burnt out and exhausted and bereaved. it’s so beautifully haunting and i’m obsessed with it right now

i remember when you told me it’s an every day decision

but with my tunnel vision how was i supposed to see the way?

haven’t i given enough, haven’t i given enough?

haven’t i given enough, haven’t i given enough?

always the fool with the slowest heart

but i know you’ll take me with you,

we’ll live in spaces between walls

GOD it’s just so. really sends a chill down your spine. it just fits his chronic exhaustion at the end of the war so well.

last one for now is “never love an anchor” by the crane wives. this is actually something i was talking about with a friend the other day—that cadaver’s insecurity and trauma drive him away from making bonds or positive connections with anyone outside his immediate circle (Locks is the only one he’s fully connected to, but he’s also close with the senior officers of the 501st (Echo and Kix especially, less so but still with Rex and Fives) and Tup & Dogma) which leads to the most intimate moments he has with a lot of his brothers being when he tells them he failed to save their loved ones. he becomes a grim reaper figure, never really putting a smile on anyone’s face when he walks into a room, because he believes himself incapable of being a truly good person for others to enjoy. he will always long for more, for the easy connection that flows between his brothers, but he thinks that if he ever lost someone he loved again, he would not be able to pull himself back from that dark place—so he ensures that it will never happen.

on some level i think i always understood

that these hands of mine were clumsy, not clever

and i tried to do the best that i could

but try as i might i couldn’t bring myself to hold you

[…]

it’s a secret i keep tucked inside my chest

with this heart of mine that’s guilty, not remorseful

there is love that doesn’t have a place to rest

but it would have buried you if it had settled on your shoulder

[…]

i am selfish, i am broken, i am cruel

i am all the things they might have said to you

do you ever think of me and my two hands

and wonder why they never soothed your fever?

and wonder why they never tied your shoes?

and wonder why they never held you gently?

and wonder why they never had the chance to lose you?

that got so long i’m sorry!! but if you stuck around to read, thank you so much! and as always i love talking about my ocs so if you have any other questions or want to hear about any more cadaver songs or songs for any of my ocs please send me an ask!! <3