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#the gods need therapy
ghostbsuter · 4 months
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"I can see dead people." He mentions with a shrug, using the chopsticks to fish more noodles into his mouth.
Dick stares at him. "Huh."
"Is that why you help?" He asks, getting more spring rolls.
"Yeah. Once someone becomes a ghost, word gets out quick, and they come to me. Always tatling about unfairness and justice." The kid waves the words around, rolling his eyes.
Dick just pretens to he uninterested, despite his mind racing at the new info. He is piecing past moments together, every shadow leaping away, every note with tips, leads and—
Huh.
"Do you... like it? Doing all that?" Richard approaches thus carefully, brows furrowed at the kid opposite of him.
Danny moves his head, giving a 'so-so' answer. "It's not much to like, I can see ghosts, and they know it and use it. If it brings them to peace or whatever– well, that's just a plus."
Dick stares. He places his chopsticks down and looks at Danny worried.
In turn, the kid sighs. "Sometimes gifts become curses the longer you have it."
And Dick understands.
Mind made up, he throws a pair of keys at the kid, watching fondly as the other catches them with confusion.
"Next time use these, instead of entering through the window."
Danny mock-salutes with a shit eating grin. "Yes, Officer grayson."
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seldompathic · 4 months
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If bro smiles through tears in episode 1 of S3 I'm gonna fold like a lawn chair
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unspuncreature · 3 months
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I know we can't stop what's coming, but I will try. Oh, how I'll try.
Will you fight with me, brother? One last time, one last fight?
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cuubism · 2 months
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emotional support part 3 of physical therapy au
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It is not exactly a short walk to Dream's flat, but Hob drops him off at his door anyway. Dream can't remember the last time someone did something like that for him. Took so much time just to make him feel safer.
He should just thank Hob and go in, but instead he hesitates in the entryway. He can't deny how it makes him feel, Hob's kindness, and interest in Dream's art, and then him jumping to Dream's defense so viscerally and unapologetically. Hob is... good. Kind. Dream does not know if he deserves it, but for a moment he allows himself to want it.
"You going to be okay?" Hob asks. His eyes are so kind. And Dream wants. It's been so long since he's wanted.
He leans in to kiss Hob and--
--Hob catches him with a hand against his chest.
Dream jumps back, shame coiling hot in his throat. Even when he thinks someone kind might want him, he is still only misreading--
"Dream," Hob says. His expression is still kind, though his smile is a bit pained. "I can tell you're spiraling, love."
That word again. Why would Hob say it if he does not mean it?
"If I am wholly wrong and you do not feel anything then please just say so," Dream sniffs, trying and failing not to feel completely stupid.
"You're not," Hob says--which catches Dream before he can fall completely into the net of melancholy that had begun to entrap him. "I'm just--" he runs a hand through his hair with a self-deprecating laugh, his general self-assuredness slipping for the first time Dream has seen. "I'm trying to be sensible."
Dream doesn't understand. It's true that Dream is not exactly a sensible choice in partner, that's been proven, but--
"It just doesn't look very good does it?" Hob continues. "Chase off your asshole ex only to come onto you at your own home? That's real respectful, isn't it?"
"I came onto you," Dream points out. Hob wants to be respectful of Dream? The bar is currently low when it comes to respecting Dream. Dream thinks he would rather have the kindness than the respect. "And I do not mind."
"Well, that's the problem, isn't it?" Hob says. "Look, believe it or not, and you'll probably believe it, but I've been widely known to be impulsive as hell. But I still don't want to be the guy jumping on you the moment you get out of a bad relationship."
This... had not truly occurred to Dream. "I do not think you will be like him."
Hob takes his hand then, the bad one, the one he's fixed. He does it carefully. "No, I know. But I'd hazard you didn't think he'd be like that before you got together, either."
"I... suppose not." Hob is different, though. He knows it.
"Let's just finish our work with your hand first, yeah?" Hob says, squeezing his hand lightly. He seems genuine. He does not seem like he is just making up reasons to turn Dream down. "I think you need to get back to some normalcy, and then you'll know for sure if you really want this."
"I do want this," Dream says. He does not want to lose touch with that feeling. Of wanting something for himself.
"Then you'll still feel that way later on, hm?"
Dream can't find fault with his argument. Though he can't help but still feel that little curl of shame. Embarrassment.
Hob raises Dream's hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles. Dream's breath catches.
"Goodnight, Dream," Hob says, letting his hand go again. "I'll see you next week."
And with that, and a smile, he leaves Dream standing in his entryway.
Dream presses his hand to his chest. Perhaps Hob is right. Perhaps he is too... fragile... for this right now. He certainly feels fragile. But Hob makes him feel less so. Not more.
But Hob is not the one who ended up in a relationship with someone who reacted to disappointment by smashing his hand with a hammer. So perhaps Dream should heed his relationship advice, and not his own.
He retreats into his empty flat. Shuts the door, locks it, deadbolts it, and shoves a heavy box of unpacked books in front of it for good measure. Then sits on the floor where there should be a couch and takes out his paints. It still hurts his hand to hold the brush for any length of time. But even to this day, it's the only thing that soothes him.
~~
It's just typical that the time Hob really wants someone is the time he decides he needs to be responsible for once in his life. But he just... he needs time. He needs to know that Dream isn't just... fixating on him because Hob's actually treated him nicely when the last person who cared for him didn't. He doesn't want to do this if Dream is just using him as an emotional rebound from a bad relationship. He's become too enamored with him for that. And he's no king of ideal relationships himself, but he doesn't think it's the best time to be starting a relationship when Dream is still carrying the literal scars of the last one.
Damn if he doesn't regret turning him down, though. Just a little.
He hopes Dream doesn't decide to bail on their regular appointment. In fact, since dropping Dream home, he's been so fixated on the possibility that he fucked it all up that he's stress-cleaned his entire flat. Then he bought finger paints to see for himself how well it works as an exercise. All he's really succeeded in doing is proving that Dream is better at art with one and a half hands than Hob is with two, but maybe it'll make Dream feel better.
He brings his attempt at finger painting to their next appointment. And he's so relieved when Dream does show up. He looks a bit more balanced than he had the other day, too. The hurt in his expression when Hob had turned him down had been painful.
"I decided to try out your exercise," Hob tells him. "To prove to you how well you're doing, if nothing else." He shows him the painting.
And Dream bursts out laughing.
"Hey," Hob protests, but can't stop his smile at the joy on Dream's face. "Don't be mean about it or anything."
"What is this meant to be?" Dream asks, taking the painting and studying it.
"It's a landscape."
Dream turns it ninety degrees. Squints. "Ah, yes, I see that now."
"Well now you're just being a dick about it."
Dream only smiles, then puts the painting away in his bag.
"Oh, you're taking it with you, too?"
"You have mine," says Dream, pointing at the painting of cats that's still propped against the wall by Hob's desk. "So I will put yours on my fridge."
"Oh, great," Hob grumbles. But he can't be upset about the smile on Dream's face.
He's glad to see that putting a pause on things hasn't hurt their developing friendship. If anything it seems better. Perhaps Dream's had time to think things over, too.
"But you see, don't you?" Hob says. "Even while you're recovering, your skills are still way better."
"I... see, yes," Dream agrees, ducking his head. "I. I did try painting again. But it hurts."
Because you're probably overdoing it, Hob thinks. "How's your hand feel now?"
"...Sore," Dream admits.
"Can I see?"
Dream gives him his hand, and Hob feels victorious that it's with less hesitance than he had once done. He starts massaging Dream's palm where it feels the most tense, and watches Dream's wary expression--he must have thought Hob was just going to move his hand this way and that and make it hurt--melt into surprise.
"Do you do this with all of your clients, Hob?" he asks, weakly.
"Only the ones I really like," Hob says, and winks. Can't have Dream thinking he's not interested, after all.
Dream blushes, but lets Hob keep playing with his hand. He really does have such gorgeous hands. If Hob ever runs into that ex again he might have to do more than punch him.
"That helping?" Hob asks, and Dream nods, but he's still blushing so it's somewhat unclear in exactly what manner it's helping.
"Good," Hob says anyway. And finds he's truly hopeful that they'll get there. With Dream's dexterity, with... other things.
It's just going to take a bit of time.
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agentsnuff · 6 months
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actual-changeling · 4 months
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and if I could give you the moon, I would give you the moon // moon song
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bby-deerling · 6 months
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elysium (zoro x fem!reader)
fluffiest of the fluff! you and zoro get lost on his birthday wc: 975 this is so self indulgent
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Sweet lavender haze settled quietly in the clearing, overgrown with tiny wildflowers.  The soft midday sun on the spring island you had stopped at for supplies was partially covered by clouds, its warmth broken up by gentle gusts of breeze.  A pair of arms holds you close, back pressed against a hard chest, preventing the wind from dusting a light chill on your upper arms.  The fresh spring growth is as naïve and new as your steps past a mere friendship, and as green as his mossy hair.
You both had no idea where you were or how you had gotten there.
Zoro always appreciated the way you never teased him for his lack of direction; it was out of respect and understanding on your part, but deep down it amused him that your internal compass was almost as offset as his.  The rest of the crew saw him getting lost as something ranging from an annoyance to a burden, but you never seemed to mind.  At times you would even drag him further away from your intended course, eager to drink in the sensations of your unfamiliar surroundings.  Tiny quiet ponds, tidal pools hidden behind perilous crags of rocks, and peaceful, open clearings like this one were secret rifts in the fabric of reality where time seemingly stopped; he held these moments close to his heart.
“Looks pretty.” he says as he presses a kiss to your cheek, voice still carrying the weight of sleep.  You hum a quiet thanks in return, engrossed in your work, but still flushing pink at his praise.  A colorful landscape painting of the field in front of you sits, nearly finished, in the pochade box on your lap; he’s impressed that your brushstrokes hadn’t suffered despite him restricting the movement of your arms somewhat as he held you.
He leans forward and watches the side of your face with a soft, sleepy smile as you squint, concentrating on adding the finishing highlights, trying to capture the warm glow of the sun.  The adorable and slightly eccentric way you scrunched your nose and bit the inside of your cheeks when you were focused was just so fun for him to watch, just as you were intoxicated by the determined look in his eyes when he trained. 
Laying back against the tree trunk that served as his bed just moments ago, he admires the flow of your hair in the wind and lifts a bottle of sake to his lips.  The clear liquor is expensive, rich, and smooth—you had borrowed a fortune from Nami to gift it to him.  Licking his lips and setting it down, he almost feels guilty that the bottle is already nearly empty.
As you clean your brushes and wipe the paint from your palette, Zoro absentmindedly starts picking flowers in reach and placing them in your hair.  By the time you start to pack up your box of supplies, he’s turned you into a sight to rival the field in front of you, a rainbow of petals tangled in your thick hair, at one time straight but turned wild and wavy with the mist of the sea.  As you turn around in his lap to show him the finished piece, he nearly forgets to look, completely captivated by the excitement in your eyes; when his eyes drop to examine your work, his chest brims with pride.  Decisive, impressionistic brushstrokes captured not just the physical but the emotional.  One of your best.
“I’m so proud of you.” he says, unable to hide the grin on his face.  In these quiet moments alone with you, he finds it easier to display his emotions without the shame of being vulnerable; he is also appreciative of the way you effortlessly can read his face during all the other times when he finds himself incapable of peeling back his shell.
He listens intently as you walk him through your process, analyzing your metaphorical leaps forward and steps back, just as you do when he informs you on the outcomes of his workouts; this was your training, and your discipline to your dream enrooted you into his heart on a visceral level.  When you finally finish, he offers you the last swig of sake from the bottle.
“You’ve earned this.” he says, watching as you eagerly tip the bottle into your mouth, making sure you swallow every last drop.  By the time the bottle is placed to the side, his lips are on yours, chasing the taste of liquor, and melting into your soft but passionate touch. 
Pulling away to glimpse the dreamy look on your face leaves him breathless.  Sun illuminating your wispy stray strands of hair, petals scattered in your hair, and barely-there freckles dusting your cheeks from too many naps in the sun, you’re a goddess of spring through and through.  Worn, stamped patchwork pants straddle his thighs as he cups your cheek.
“I love you, Zoro.”
Though you often expressed your emotions through gentle looks and unspoken touches, it’s the first time it’s been spoken aloud.
“I love you too.”
He’s a demon basking in the glory of being bathed in light.  Despite your divine appearance, you require no sacrifice of him, no rituals of humiliation—only a piece of his heart.
He gives it over to you whole.
In return he only asks that you stay by his side, following him to the Underworld and sacrificing your chance at salvation to walk through hell with him.
You take the lead, tugging on his hand as you stumble through the fire licking at your feet.
As Zoro begins a new turn around the sun, he counts the amount of times he’s shared sake with you and prays that twelve sinful sips are enough to keep you in his clutches for all his years to come.
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0bituarius · 2 months
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Sleep Deprived Thought
Tw: 18+ because I am mentally ill and unhinged, Minors DNI
I have three holes, every issue in the book, there are three of them. Let nature take its course.
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the-gom-jabbar · 3 months
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shepscapades · 3 months
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Hey! i’m really into the dbch story and i was wondering if doc and xisuma ever tell bdubs the specifics of why etho lost his memories, cause if they do that is prime self blaming angst for bdubs
I’m inclined to believe they don’t. Actually (and maybe I should do a small comic for this so more people see it) I imagine, once a month or a few pass and they finally return etho to bdubs as reset, I imagine they are VERY serious about warning bdubs not to try to force Etho to re-deviate— they don’t go into specifics, but they probably tell bdubs that whatever happened had to do with something that was emotionally overwhelming, and that forcing him to redeviate/not letting it happen naturally could trigger the same error. They have no idea what could happen so bdubs needs to be very careful and let Etho find himself again on his own.
Whether or not bdubs gets impatient or can only go so long before he doubts it would be that bad if he tried pushing Etho in the right direction is another story.
But yeah. I don’t think Xisuma or Doc really… tell anyone that this happened. Etho’s error seemed like a very specific one-off scenario, so it’s not something the other hermits should be trying to avoid or be careful about happening to their own android friends, and the only thing telling people would do is make them worried about the situation. All they need to know is that etho was broken and that they need to be careful with him. I don’t agree with their decision to keep what happened to themselves but I understand it I think. Xisuma “i don’t want to worry the hermits” Void and Docm “eh this isn’t the first time I’ve replaced this arm, people won’t question it” 77
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4acoffee · 4 months
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still thinking abt dan heng...
i think after he reveals his vidyadhara form he just gets the slightest bit more touchy with the people he's close with... not particularly affectionate per say, but just,,, ruffling March's hair after an outrageous idea, patting trailblazers back after losing at their games, a knuckle grazing your cheek to check on your after a particularly grueling fight 🥰
i think he's secretly touch starved but it's only a secret because he doesn't notice it himself.
i personally think that, since the vidyadhara don't really have any use for the kind of intimacy humans do, they would hold a lot more importance over the simple everyday touches. hugs, hand holding, brushing hair.
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haunted-xander · 16 days
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Do you think Saix' emotional co-dependence started as a Nobody or did it start as human Isa and just grew to an unhealthy degree?
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realbeefman · 6 months
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i enter princeton-plainsboro community hospital and call for “dr daddy issues” and the entire staff of the malpractice diagnostics department looks up
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chaosgremlim · 10 months
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I’ll be completely honestly. I will judge you based on how you view Lottie Mathews. If you watch Yellowjackets and go calling her “psycho” “crazy” and judge her abhorent and manipulative for literally just having symptoms of her psychosis while UNMEDICATED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING WILDERNESS, I won’t trust you for shit.
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[confused glitches]
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the sorting hat, barely touching my head for less than a second: THERAPY THERAPY STRAIGHT TO THERAPY
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