#and am clearly having an existential crisis

[wolfiemcwolferson]

Spent all of my 20’s screaming about how I can never thrive in my small hometown community because it is stifling and swearing I’ll never go back because the state keeps stripping rights away from us only to maybe finally be accepting in my 30’s that a small hometown community is worth fighting for and the lives there are worth fighting for even if they disagree with me and the rights will only ever be restored if people are there to do the groundwork and maybe that means eventually I’ll go back

[magentagalaxies]

vent incoming:

got my grades back for my courses last semester and most of it was to be expected, mostly A's, maybe an A-, etc. but i honestly can't get over the fact that my independent study (the buddy cole documentary) was for some reason given a B. like sure getting a B isn't bad per se, I usually get at least one B every semester and i honestly don't really care about what my exact gpa is as long as i can graduate, but come on. this school put me through months of psychological torment over this project and didn't even have the nerve to give me a B+??? i'm still coping with the self-doubt they forced on me and this bullshit is not helping!!

[sunnami]

you'd be the love of my life when i was young

summary: gryffindors wear their heart on their sleeve when they fall in love. slytherins keep their heart locked far away to keep it from breaking.

pairing: poly!marauders x reader (sirius x reader, remus x reader, lily x reader, and james x reader)

tags: slight angst, fluff, lucius malfoy, happy ending

note: i have a chemistry quiz due in 50 minutes but this takes priority. . . i haven't written in a while so forgive my rusty writing skills, they've only been let out from the basement today. not proofread, we die like the marauders. (title is taken from the song, 21 by gracie abrams, because that's roughly around the age jily die. hehe.)

They said when you fell in love with the right people, everything would fall in place after.

What a load of bullshit.

You had come to a conclusion one winter morning, laying in the Gryffindor common room dressed in your woolly, green jumper. You rested on the worn-out leather seat, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you stared at the ceiling, thinking about how it was going terribly wrong. How funny it was, that the 30th of December greeted you with an existential crisis instead of presents and hot chocolate. 

There was something quite wrong with you, you had noticed for the past few months. 

Every time Sirius Black smiled at you, showing off his pearly canines and the crinkles by his deep-grey eyes, you would experience a painful, tightening sensation in your chest — like someone was squeezing at your heart. Most people knew Sirius Black, the prankster, but you were lucky enough to know Sirius, the kind and spirited boy who had a heart that loved fiercely more than anyone you knew.

Cosy afternoons found you in the library with Remus Lupin, and a strange feeling would erupt in your stomach whenever Remus leaned down, and you’d catch a whiff of pine needles and fresh mint. Shaggy, blond hair falling over his eyes as he came to life, talking about your common love for muggle books. He made time feel like an illusion, minutes fading away into hours as the two of you shared stifled giggles, cheeks numb by the time you left the room. 

And James, oh James Potter. It was difficult to describe what you felt with him — but with James, the brightest colours in the world couldn’t even compare to him. James was like putting on a pair of brand-new eyeglasses and seeing everything clearly for the first time. And without a doubt, you knew that James would never let you get hurt. But these days, you were weak in the knees as you’d see him across the Great Hall, waving at you excitedly as he bellowed your name, and to come and sit next to them. 

Last, but certainly not the least, Lily Evans. Her sweet, airy voice was a warm hug on a cold day. And her actual hugs were second to none — don’t tell Sirius, however, he liked to shift into Padfoot to steal Lily’s title as the queen of cuddling. Lily flowers were delicate, she was anything but. The spitfire of Gryffindor, who would raise her chin and defy anyone who would harass you for hanging out with them. 

(“You’re our emotionally constipated Slytherin,” said Lily as she mushed your cheeks, cooing when you tried to glare at her, and the three boys guffawing in the background. They liked to tease you often, being a year younger than them.) 

Were you dying?

That was the only plausible explanation to your palpitating heart and rickety knees. 

No, it was definitely not because you had gone and fell in love with your best friends. 

That was absurd. 

You had tried venting to Lucius Malfoy once. Narcissa often doted on you, sneakily leaving treats on your desk before she left for her class, and fussing when you got sick — which was quite often. That meant, when you weren’t with the marauders, you were trailing after the Slytherin power couple, or Severus.

(Lucius curled his lips in disgust, Narcissa sipping tea by his side, failing at hiding her knowing smirk. “I am above such childish matters,” hissed Lucius, scowl deepening when Narcissa laughed heartily, looking happier than she had been since returning home for the holidays. “I do not know why you’d even think to come to me for this.”

You huffed. 

Maybe you’d try Severus next. 

Naturally, he stormed off the moment Lily’s name fell from your lips.

Your resident seventh-years were confusing.)

Fortunately, you were stripped from your thoughts when the entrance to the common room slammed open, the paintings clamouring as they were disturbed from their slumber. One by one, the marauders piled inside the room, a string of melodious laughter and boisterous conversations following their arrival. Hastily, you sat up, heart thudding against your ribcage. Silence, you wretched beast, you told it. Don’t let them see how I burn for them.  

“There you are!” Sirius came into view first, grinning widely as he crossed the room to reach you. “Who said you could be this pretty in the morning, love?” 

Ba-dump!

Sirius plopped down head first onto your lap, manoeuvring your hand to comb through his hair as he sighed in contentment. “Bloody hell,” He exhaled shakily, “Last night was the worst one we’ve ever been through.” 

Your fingers ghosted through the new scar etched across his sharp cheekbones — it was nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn’t fix, but you still didn’t like the sight of them bruised and wounded. Swiftly, Sirius grabbed your hand and intertwined your own with his. “I’m sorry,” You whispered. 

Sirius chuckled tiredly, tightening his hold on you, as though you were a tether that kept him afloat in his sea of nightmares. 

(And you were. If only you knew.)

“It’s not your fault,” said Sirius. 

Then, your eyes landed on Remus limping towards you, his bare skin littered with scrapes and marks, supported with an arm around James’s broad shoulders. He sent a toothy smile your way, despite the tired lines on his forehead and deep bags beneath his eyes. “Waited up all night for us, huh?”

“I just couldn’t sleep knowing you guys were out there,” You whispered sheepishly. “It’s too dangerous, what happens if something goes terribly wrong, and it costs you your life? We need to tell someone.” 

“Everyone who needs to know, already knows.” Remus bit down a pained expression as he sat by your side, head lolling on your shoulder. “This is the best we have for now.” 

You didn’t like it.

You didn’t like it at all.

Before you could reply, Remus turned his head, lips feathering against your exposed skin. His voice was low as he said, “‘Sides, it’s our job to worry about you, not the other way around.”

“Well, I apologize for interrupting your job,” You whispered back harshly, wondering if that was all you were to them, a younger friend they felt the need to look after. Oh, how mortifying that would be.

James chuckled from behind you, bending over the back of the couch, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, lingering for a few moments that felt like an eternity. “You’re too adorable,” said James, tweaking your nose. “Our angry, little Slytherin.” 

“I’m not little.” You glowered at him.

“Perhaps not.” James smiled cheekily. “But you’re ours.” 

Often times, you had wondered how the five of you came to be so tight-knit, knowing their disdain for most of the Slytherins. 

(Little did you know, you smiled at them once in Potions, and they were a goner.) 

Something stirred deep in your belly. 

You sucked in a breath. “Don’t say things like that, James.”

People could get the wrong idea.

You could get the wrong idea.

“Well, why not?” Lily appeared in your peripheral vision, the scent of blooming wildflowers and fresh rain filling the room. Like the three boys, her skin was sallow from lack of sleep, but her bare face and blinding grin left your heart racing. “It’s true, isn’t it?” 

It could be, just not in the way you wanted it to be true.

You sighed. “Class is going to start in a few hours, I should get going.” 

“Or,” James began wickedly, throwing a thick blanket onto the floor by the fireplace, and tossing a bunch of throw pillows at Sirius’s face. “We could have a sleepover right here.” 

“Sounds good to me,” said Lily merrily, stealing James’s blanket as she placed a pillow beneath her head. 

“I really have to go—” You reasoned pathetically.

“Stay,” whispered Sirius without even opening his eyes as he curled his lithe fingers around your wrist. “You being here makes us feel better.” 

They were too cruel, saying all these sweet words, not knowing how it drove knives through your heart. 

James yawned as he laid on the carpeted floor, hiking the blanket up to his shoulders as he threw a leg over Lily, pulling her close to his chest, nuzzling the crook of her neck. “D’you have your textbooks with you, love?” He asked you drowsily. 

“No,” You answered, any other words lodged in your throat. 

“That’s fine.” James hummed. “I’ll just get the cloak and sneak into the dungeons later to get the books for you.” 

“Sleep,” Remus urged you, unaware how you shivered at his words. 

“You can’t be comfortable like that,” You told him in disbelief, watching his neck bend at an angle to lay on your shoulder. 

“Trust me,” said Remus gently, eyelashes tickling your skin, “I’m right where I want to be.” 

You had grown silent for a few beats, unaware how Sirius’d opened his eyes, staring at your worried expression. 

(How could one person be so perfect, he wondered.)

“You alright, darling?” He reached out to trace the curve of your jaw with his thumb, the palm of his hand holding your face as though you were a pureblood’s antique treasure. (Mine, mine, mine, his heart screamed.)

But like the Slytherin you were, you lied as easily as you breathed.

“I’m fine.”

As you laid in between Remus and Sirius, watching the peaceful rise of Lily and James’s chests, you had come to a daunting realization. 

You were irrevocably and agonizingly in love with your best friends. 

And because fate liked to spit in your face, the four of them were already in a beautiful, committed relationship. 

Who were you to get in the way of that?

—

They would understand, you convinced yourself. 

They would understand that you had to stay away from them. You had to protect your heart and keep it safe. The marauders were a dangerous bunch, and they had played the biggest prank on you, and by Merlin, would you fall for this particular prank over and over again if it meant you could hear their voices and fall into their embrace. 

But you couldn’t stay. They would only crush your heart otherwise. 

If Gryffindors wore their heart on their sleeves when they fell in love, Slytherins protected theirs with every fibre of their being, locking it in a cage where no one else can have the power to break it. 

Like what any love-stricken teenager would do in the face of heartbreak, you began to ignore the objects of your affections — ignoring the way your soul called out to theirs. 

It wasn’t as obvious the first few days. You would escape their company under the ruse of studying for McGonagall and Flitwick’s practical tests. 

(“They’re notoriously difficult after all,” You told them, a nervous laugh accompanying your lie. Peter eyed you curiously, noticing small details the others could not see — your quivering lips, your nails digging into your palms, and the way your eyes wouldn’t meet any of theirs. “I just don’t want to fail.” 

You could have cried at the way James held the back of your head as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’ll do well, love. You always do.” 

“You can study with me, if you want,” Remus quickly offered. “I’m not as good as James in transfiguration, but I can definitely teach better than those two.” 

“Hey!” Sirius exclaimed in mock offence.

“Thanks, it’s sweet of you to offer,” You told them, shifting your weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “But—”

“Say less, darling,” Lily interjected kindly, wrapping her scarf around your neck. She smiled at you, holding both your cheeks in her palms. “They’re the worst lot to study around, I know. Just don’t study too hard, okay? Take breaks, have a cup of tea now and then, and remember it’s okay to ask for help — don’t give me that face — if it gets too overwhelming, just ask. We’re here for you in every way you need us.” 

Oh.

You were well and truly screwed. 

“Thanks,” You croaked.)

But it was getting harder and harder to come up with excuses. 

(“Wotcher!” Sirius grinned, encasing you in a tight hug after bumping into you in the corridor. “Haven’t seen you in a while, busy bee. Fancy a lunch with us in Hogsmeade?” 

You scrunched your nose, red and bitten from the winter frost, stepping away from him and ignoring the way his face fell. “I. . . I can’t. I’ve got practice with the Frog Choir.”

Sirius shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “S’alright. I can wait and pick you up right after, then we’ll swing by that shop you really like—”

“I can’t, Sirius,” You interrupted harshly, wrapping your arms around your chest as your gaze dropped to the ground. “Sorry. I just. . . I’ll just catch you some other time.” 

Sirius flinched. “Sure, love. Other time, yeah?”

But only the wind replied.

Saturday came, and along with it was the long-awaited match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. James, decked out in his uniform, bounded over to you at the Slytherin’s side of the Great Hall, oblivious to the death glares some of your housemates had sent his way. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, lifting you from your seat. 

“It’s Quidditch day, pidge!” James tilted his head, awfully resembling a lost, confused puppy. “Why aren’t you dressed yet? It’s the game of games! Even Remus is announcing the game later.” 

You bit your lip before responding. “I’m not going, James.” 

“What?” He furrowed his brows. “Why not?” 

Ever since you had become friends with James Potter in your first year, you had never missed a single game of his. Except for the one time you had fallen sick during his match against Hufflepuff — and the moment he knew you were ill, the game ended in less than two minutes, by his sheer determination to get by your side quickly and make sure you weren’t alone. 

You sighed. “I don’t know, James, I’m just not feeling up to it today.”

It was a big, fat lie, and he knew it too. 

You didn’t go to his match later that day.

It was one of the biggest losses James had ever experienced — he wasn’t talking about Quidditch.)

Your housemates were beginning to realize was something was off as well. They might not be particularly fond of the Gryffindors that captured your heart, but they were fond of you, and they guarded their own. 

You had a stare-down with Regulus Black in the common room — and you weren’t about to lose — before he blinked and asked, “What did my brother do?”

“Nothing,” You replied, pretending to be engrossed with your herbology textbook. 

Severus rolled his eyes before plucking the book out of your hands. “Spit it out, woman. We’ve had to watch you mope around pathetically for days now. It’s irritating the rest of us.”

You sniffled. “Then just leave me alone! No one asked you to check up on me!” 

“Unfortunately, we can’t.” Severus took a seat beside Regulus. With a pained grimace, he said, “So you can. . . pour your heart out to us.” 

“I can’t.” You wailed. “I’m a Slytherin, we’re the worst at that.”

Regulus shrugged his shoulders. “It’s true. We’re hopeless.” 

“But,” He raised his wand, “We do speak in jinxes and curses.” 

“Don’t you dare!” You blubbered, wiping at your tears — but somehow, without having to express it in words, they understood, and you had felt lighter.

Still, you missed them. 

“This is pathetic.” Lucius enters the common room, Narcissa holding onto his arm, watching the scene before him with blank eyes. “Black, Snape, get out, you’re only making whatever this is, worse.”

Narcissa was by your side in an instant, dabbing at your wet eyes and cheeks with a handkerchief that cost more than your life. “Hush now, darling. What’s wrong, hm? Was it that idiot cousin of mine? Don’t worry, Lucius can tell his father, and we’ll have them begging at your feet by tomorrow.”

You cried louder. 

“I jest, I jest.” Narcissa softly chuckled, pulling your hair away from your face as she tugged you close. “Please tell us what’s wrong. It’s been awful seeing you like this for the past few days.”

Lucius sat on the loveseat across you, resting his feet atop the glass coffee table. “Yes, I beg you — do as she says, for the love of Merlin. But, really, what else did you expect, associating yourself with that ragtag of miscreants?”

Narcissa glared at him.

Lucius raised his arms in surrender. 

Narcissa clicked her tongue before returning her attention to you, eyes softening at your tear-stricken face. She smiled, albeit sadly, as she said, “Perhaps, I know what is wrong.” She gestured to the way you clutched at the front of your shirt. “It is the matters of the heart, is it not?” 

You nodded weakly. “I love them.”

“And they, you,” said Narcissa. “So, what is wrong?” 

“I love them!” You hiccuped.

“Unfortunately.” Lucius handed you a tissue. “The whole of Hogwarts knows this already, so I do not understand why you’re blowing snot all over my fiancé’s robes about it.” 

“They don’t feel the same way about me,” You confessed with a sob. 

Lucius stared at you incredulously. “Please do not tell me that you are this daft.” 

“What do you mean?” You asked him through narrowed, teary eyes, Narcissa rubbing the tips of your numb fingers from crying so much. 

“I did not sign up for this.” Lucius rubbed at his temples as he stood up. “I will only say this once, so make sure you are listening. Those Gryffindor idiots are so disastrously in love with one another — let me finish, damn you — and if you cannot see that they love you too, then it is your own fault. It physically pains me to see the way they smile when you are near. They would move the earth for you, and they would shake the heavens for you.” 

—

Gryffindors must have hearts made of steel, because you didn’t know how they could be so brave, to look fear right in the eyes and say: I’m ready. 

Because you surely weren’t. You were headed towards your usual spot in the courtyard by the clock tower, legs heavy and swell deep in your throat. Then, you found them, looking so achingly beautiful under the sunlight, huddled together for warmth as they smiled and laughed at lame puns and mistimed jokes. 

Did you have a place with them? 

You were about to find out.

“Hey,” You greeted once you were right in front of them. A month of evading them, and now you were here. It was like finding a piece of your soul that you had lost.

(For them, seeing you was like finally being able to breathe again.) 

“Hey,” said Lily, devoid of any warmth, and that broke you. 

Bravery was poison, you decided. A trap for weak-hearted fools like you. 

Sirius shot James a look before clenching his jaw. “No choir practice today? No study sessions with Cissa or Reg? Wait, no, I’ve got it. Slughorn’s dinner party? Or is it detention with McGonagall today? Does her highness finally feel up to talking to the peasants?”

You inhaled sharply. “Never mind. This was a bad idea.”

But this — is what you deserved. You had hurt them badly, so it was only right for them to stomp on your heart for everyone to see, just as you did to them many times this month. 

A sob tore from your lips as you swivelled on your heels, ready to flee the scene and never show your face to anyone else ever again. Yet, before you could leave, Remus clamped his hand over your wrist. 

“Why?” He stared at you, searching for anything that could explain your sudden behaviour. Remus looked at you with such emotion, tightly holding onto you — but never enough to hurt, because Remus could never be capable of hurting you. He’d die before he would ever cause you pain. 

 (You made him feel unafraid of the moon.) 

“Was. . . was it something I did?” Remus asked, laying his wounds bare for you to see. “Was it me?”

“I love you!” You shouted in the midst of panic — you had never wanted to cause Remus to doubt himself. Your loud declaration had caught the attention of some, but you stood on, curling your fists firmly. You needed to do this. 

“I love you.” You said once more, breathlessly, staring right into James’s eyes. Such a beautiful shade of hazel. “I love each one of you. And it. . . it hurts right here.” Tears dripped from your eyes to the side of your chin as you splayed your hand over where your heart rested. 

“Because you don’t feel the same.” 

The four of them simply gazed at you, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. 

You took that as confirmation for what you had been fearing all along. 

“And that’s okay if you don’t,” You snivelled, unable to see clearly with the streams of tears in your eyes. You thought of how Sirius melted at Lily’s touch and how Remus was the anchor to James’s wild streak. How they all complemented each other and fit perfectly like puzzle pieces. “Just give me a few months, and I’ll get over it. It’s a stupid crush anyway, it’s my fault. The four of you are perfect together, how could—”

“Shut up,” James hissed before cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss. Cherries and pumpkin pasties. He kissed you deeply once more before pressing his lips to your eyes, desperately washing away your tears with his devotion. “Was that it? We could have been doing this ages ago.”

“What?” You rasped, knees buckling at the weight of his gaze.

James only smiled, stealing your third kiss. 

Sirius pulled your hand, his arm encasing your waist as you stumbled to his chest. Like James, he kissed you fervently, like he wanted to chase off all your fears and doubts. His lips were warm against yours — firewhiskey. You wanted to be burnt by his flames again and again. He held you close, committing every inch to memory. 

(You were art that he wanted to worship.)

He kissed your forehead. “We love you, daft girl.”

He kissed both of your eyes, chuckling when a new wave of tears came. “We have loved you ever since you burnt my mother’s howler in fourth year, and gave us poorly-knitted sweaters for Christmas.” 

“I love you,” said Sirius. “As certain as the spring that arrives after winter, I love you.” 

You snuffled. “I. . . I don’t understand.” 

Remus stepped in your line of sight to place his jacket over you — it was Sirius’s leather jacket, really, but Remus liked to claim it occasionally. He bundled you in earmuffs and rested his chin atop your head, exhaling in relief. “I thought it was me.” 

You shook your head, clinging to the front of his shirt. “No, never. It was me. I’m sorry.” 

Remus grinned wolfishly, eyes swooping down to your kiss-stained lips. (There you were, standing in the snow that threatened to melt, eyes rimmed with tears, hair wildly ablaze from the cold breeze, cheeks damp and red — but how devastatingly beautiful you were.) “May I?” 

You nodded. “P-Please.”

Blueberries and dark chocolate. Remus whispered against your lips, “If it wasn’t already clear, the feeling is bloody mutual — we love you, just as the moon loves the sun enough to chase after it every day.” He grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart, you were surprised to see him holding back tears of his own. “All my life, I thought I was this monster who didn’t deserve to live. But you, all of you, make me selfish enough to want to belong here.” 

He kissed you desperately, words of adoration and love falling from his lips. 

Finally, your eyes settled on Lily. You waited for her reaction with a bated breath. 

You hadn’t expected for her to burst into tears as she rushed over to you. 

“Don’t you ever do that again,” said Lily angrily before circling you in her embrace, burying her nose in your hair. You hugged her back, drowning in her scent and warmth. “You are deserving of all the things you want, so don’t run away — if you run, we’d follow you, idiot girl.” 

Then, Lily captured your lips with her own. 

She tasted like happy endings.

note: 4k words and 6 hours later, here we are! let it be known i was THE poly marauders enthusiast years ago. i always wanted one with lily in the polycule so here we are. this is me manifesting my college romance, y'all. look away. anyways, i hoped u enjoyed it!! brought a smile to your face and all!! might make a part two for more fluff and to establish more relationship dynamics since this was written on a whim ;D also i planned a cute scene with peter as well, so i'll just write that in part two el em ay yo.

[wilwheaton]

the scorpion doesn’t care who it stings

I posted this on my Facebook four days ago, and it seems to have taken on a life of its own for a minute.

I thought I’d repost it, here:

I can not fathom the emptiness, the insecurity, the insatiable need for attention and validation, the staggering arrogance, the malevolence and total void of human experience that is Elon Musk.

He's the richest man on the planet. You can't go anywhere or do anything without interacting with something he's part of in some way. There are literal millions of people who uncritically worship him, in spite of overwhelming evidence that he's a douchebag. Some number of them will come after me, as they come after anyone who points at their naked emperor. They'll spend entire days going after me and people like me, slavishly serving a man who does not even know they exist. They are his army of fools, uncritically serving his every whim. And it still isn't enough.

He can have any material thing he wants, and he will *never* be happy or satisfied. He has no real friends. Every single person around him is either a viper, a parasite, or both.

So what does he do? He bullies and threatens and harasses and trolls and behaves like the weak, scared, insecure child he has always been. That's a tragedy for him, but it's dangerous for us. He doesn't care what he destroys or who he hurts as he chases this existential thing he cannot ever have.

You know the saying "hurt people hurt people"? He's a hurt person who is hurting our society, making people I care about less safe. The consequences of this one man's midlife crisis are global, and that terrifies me.

In a comment, about an hour later, I added:

You know what's really interesting is the tiny number of people who are attacking and harassing me are either typical right wing idiots who all spew the same garbage from behind their wraparound sunglasses, or these weird nerds who are DESPERATE to justify how toxic and cruel and destructive Elon Musk is. Like, nerds, listen to Old Man Wheaton, please. 

Don't hitch your wagon to Elon Musk. There are countless people who are amazing and genuinely good, who do all the things we wish we could do. Stop defending this piece of shit who would push you into a volcano without even learning your name, if it would save him half a second on his way to his next shitpost on $8Chan (formerly known as Twitter).He doesn't stand up to anyone. He doesn't stand up FOR anyone. He is not your champion. He's angry and chaotic and destructive, and you have to understand that the scorpion doesn't care who it stings.

Finally, I want to add two things: 1) It’s interesting to me that a lot of the people who came to my post to be dicks used a lot of MAGA language. It reminds me of this thing my friend says about concerts: the audience looks like the band. Of course there’s substantial overlap between the angry, hateful, terrified, cowards who support Trump and the same who Stan Elon Musk, and it’s real interesting to see it in action.

2) I haven’t used Twitter for years. I quit before it was popular (lol) because it was better for my mental health. I logged in once when my book was published, and I deleted all my tweets when he announced he was buying Twitter. When he took over and immediately amplified a conspiracy theorist, I made my account private. In a perfect world, I would delete my account entirely. But I have to keep it for reasons I hope I don’t have to explain. After I posted this on Facebook, it made its way around Twitter (still is, four days later, which is ... a thing that is happening) and when people went to look at my account, they saw that it was closed. As much of a fucking manbaby Elon Musk clearly is, he didn’t do anything to my account. In fact, the only reason he even knows I exist (if he does) is through a vanity search of his name. I locked my account on my own, and so should you.

I am only on:

Tumblr

Facebook (itswilwheaton)

Instagram (itswilwheaton)

and my blog that I’ve been neglecting for too long at wilwheaton.net.

I’ve had a Reddit account since 2006, predating user-created subs! I’m u/wil there.

Okay that’s all. Thanks for listening. Please choose to be kind.

[gurugirl]

Can We Start Over | Ch. 4 The Exit Strategy

Series Summary: From the first day you and Harry meet, your relationship is beyond complicated. A one night stand leads to hurt feelings and then a job opportunity that you simply can't pass up is offered. But can you handle working for a man like him? rich!harry x plus size!reader | enemies to lovers

A/N: This is a 5 part series commissioned by @justfattiethings (thank you hon!).

Chapter 4. Summary: It's hard for Harry to overcome not feeling a bit hurt after you left him the way you did but there are bigger issues you need to tackle, like the fact that Harry's doing something shady as well as figuring out how you feel about him.

Word Count: 9k

Warning: 18+ only, feelings of confusion and turmoil, angst, illegal dealings

Can We Start Over? masterlist

Harry woke up alone in your hotel room. He sat up and rubbed his hand over his chest and he couldn’t help but smile thinking about what had happened the night before.

But he couldn’t figure out exactly where you’d gone. He peeked into your bathroom and then stepped into his room, “Y/n?” You were nowhere to be seen. The smile he wore fell when he realized you weren’t there. Perhaps you’d just stepped out for a moment? But why? Harry looked at the clock to see it was only just past 7 am. For coffee perhaps?

Harry slid on a pair of pants and the shirt he wore the night before as he found his shoes and his key card. He figured he’d go find you. Something told him you hadn’t simply stepped out to grab a coffee.

“Y/n?” You quickly turned and saw Harry heading toward you. You’d been sitting in the lobby looking out the window. It was rainy. You’d planned on a walk but weren’t too fond of getting yourself all wet just so you could go through your existential crisis outside.

Standing up from your spot you gave him a weak smile.

“What are you doing? Is everything okay?” Harry stood in front of you and dropped his eyes over your frame. He looked frazzled. His shirt was mostly left unbuttoned and his hair was a mess. But the way he seemed worried had you suddenly feeling bad for the way you left him. But it wasn’t like you could stay either.

“I uh…” you scratched at your neck and frowned, “Needed some air. Needed to think about last night.”

“Okay. But did I do something wrong?”

You blinked your eyes and looked toward the front desk where someone had approached reception before looking back at him, “No, you didn’t. I woke up and realized… it didn’t feel right.”

Harry stood with his mouth agape for a moment before he began to shake his head, “Let’s go back up to the room to talk. We can’t do this here.”

You nodded, “Okay.”

He had turned around before you could even get out a response. He could tell by your demeanor what was going on. You regretted it. And now he felt like shit. He braced himself mentally for you to reject him.

The silence on the way up to your room was loud. Harry had his arms crossed over his chest as he kept his eyes down. He was clearly going over in his mind what had gone wrong.

And you figured maybe he’d give you the silent treatment once you got into your room but the moment the door was closed behind you he started, “Did I do something wrong, Y/n? Tell me the truth.”

You shook your head and looked at his face, “No. Of course not. I wanted it. I just…” you sighed and sat down in the chair by the window. Your head was fuzzy. Not only had you gotten little sleep everything with Harry was confusing. Your feelings surrounding him didn’t make any sense.

“You just what?” He leaned his back into the wall across from you and crossed his arms over his chest again. Now he looked like he was becoming angry.

“I feel like that was a big mistake. I should have known better than to do that.”

“Are you serious? You felt like that was a mistake?” He gestured with his arm before tucking it back against his chest.

Nodding you put your palms on your thighs and looked down, “It just can’t happen ever again. We shouldn’t have done it. I regret it.”

There it was. Harry pushed himself off the wall and laughed as he shook his head, “Wow. Okay. I asked you if you wanted it. If you were comfortable… But now you’re telling me it was a mistake? How do you think this makes me feel? Waking up alone thinking I was gonna have you there with me in bed. Really thought you were okay with it. Fuck…”

You watched him pace the room, “Last night I wanted it. I just… I woke up and felt like this shouldn’t have happened.”

Harry nodded and put his hands on his hips as he watched the floor, “Fine. You win. This back and forth between us,” he looked at you, “No more. That’s why I was cold toward you, and kept you at a distance, Y/n because it’s easier for me to be that way. The moment you wanted us to be amicable… I tried. But I hear you now. Loud and clear.”

Needless to say, the flight back was like torture. Harry hardly spoke to you and he certainly didn’t look at you. You had to jog to keep up with him half the time. Part of you was worried that he’d have the driver leave without you when he was already outside at the car and you were struggling with your suitcase which had lost one of its wheels somehow.

He finally did speak to you when you arrived at his home, “You’re free to do as you please today. No work. I’m gonna go out. We’ll get back to it in the morning.”

And that was it. You didn’t see him after he went to his room and you didn’t hear him leave but you knew he did.

“We had sex.” You called Brandy as you walked around in the back garden, after making sure you were totally alone and no one could overhear you.

“I knew you would, he–“

“No. It’s not like, Brandy. I hate that I did. I feel awful. I feel like I disrespected myself for it. What he did to me? That first night? How can I even feel attraction toward him? Sure he apologized and I understand what happened, but the fact remains, he treated me like garbage.”

“Y/n, don’t beat yourself up. You’re only human. And you two do have a connection, even if it’s small. He likes you. But it’s okay to not do it again. You still have a job right?”

You sighed, “Yeah. I don’t think he’ll fire me but… I don’t know if I can handle working for him anymore. What if something happens again? I’m just gonna keep feeling bad and Harry’s gonna get mad. Like now. He’s pissed.”

“Why is he pissed?”

“Because he woke up and I wasn’t there and told him it was a mistake so now he feels responsible I guess. I don’t know. He’s not really been talking to me since I told him I regret it.”

There was silence from Brandy for a beat as you sat on the bench under the trees at the far end of the garden.

“Was it good at least?”

You rolled your eyes, “Brandy…” you said in warning.

“Hey. I’m your best friend. You don’t have to act all high and mighty with me. You had sex with him again. Was it good? Like, at least if it was good then you can walk away knowing you had one last good time.”

“Of course it was. He’s good. But that’s really not the point, Brandy.”

“I know it’s not the point. I’m trying to get details from you is all. I’m nosey and what can even I say to make you feel better anyway? I feel like sometimes you take yourself way too seriously, Y/n. It could be good to lighten up a little. I know this feels like a big deal to you. I get it. I’m here to listen but there’s nothing anyone can say to you or anything you can do to reverse what happened. I’m here for you but truly. You could just calm down a little. Lighten up a touch.”

“Lighten up? Are you saying this is somehow my fault?”

“I didn’t say that. Why does this have to be anyone’s fault? Why point fingers? Shit happens. Why do you always need someone to blame?”

You sighed and closed your eyes, “I know. I like things neatly categorized and this is so not neat or categorized… I just feel like since I don’t know where to put this feeling it has to have a reason. But you’re right. The reason is just that…”

“Is just that you’re human and you gave in to a very human need. So did he. You both did nothing wrong in this case. I mean, maybe not the best idea to sleep with your boss, but like…” she laughed.

“Yeah, that’s another thing that’s hard for me to wrap my mind around. I slept with my boss. How do I go from here?”

Brandy chuckled into the receiver, “God you’re so dramatic, Y/n. I love you but you take shit way too seriously sometimes. Some things don’t need to be explained. Okay? Now you’ve got what you want, right? He’s probably not going to be flirty with you anymore after this since you told him it was a mistake. No more sex with the boss.”

You and Brandy were pretty much opposites when it came to personalities. She was light-hearted and went with the flow, while you were serious and liked order. You knew she was too light-hearted at times, though. Some things were serious and did need explanations so you could learn from them and never do it again.

But sometimes she was right. She had a good point about this issue. What could be done? You’d told Harry your feelings about sleeping with him again and even if it did hurt his feelings or make him mad you did what you felt was right for yourself. And that was that. What more could you do?

.           .           .

Harry walked through his front door sweaty after his run. It was 8:30 am. Your mornings usually started at 8. When you’d gone into his office and he wasn’t there you set up your laptop and then went down to the kitchen to get coffee.

It was unlike him. Normally he was ready for the day before you’d even woken up.

You watched him walk past you, not a single word as he went upstairs where you imagined he would go shower and then he’d join you in his office after he was done.

Except he didn’t go into his office. You were sat in your usual spot and responding to a couple of emails before you saw one from him.

Book two business class seats (not together) to Buenos Aires for the Friday after next, returning Sunday. See the attached for the email of the person we’ll be meeting and book the hotel he recommended. Set up our meetings and get the wire information from him in advance. Send to me before finalizing anything so I can look it over.

You frowned at this. You didn’t like that he was emailing you rather than speaking to you. You didn’t want him angry with you but you supposed this might be better than him being too friendly.

Harry’s attitude the rest of the week was the same. He only spoke to you when it was absolutely necessary. Not once did you find his gaze on you. No smiles or laughing. Nothing.

You hadn’t expected him to be so cold with you. You figured the boundaries you were placing with him were good ones. That he’d come around and understand why they needed to be established.

But instead of him being nice to you and having evening chats in his kitchen after Carl left and getting to know him slowly, he was completely shut off. You could say that he was being professional with you. Which was what you wanted.

Not like this, though. Not with barely a glance or a friendly smile. Not a single dimple showed itself to you over the next weeks.

And now here you were with him in Argentina where you should be enjoying red wine and empanadas but instead, you were sitting quietly while he conducted his meeting with the seller.

You said no to wine. It didn’t feel right. He didn’t push you. In fact, you heard him let out an annoyed short laugh and a mumbled suit yourself.

The man you were meeting with had a small stone sculpture that was considered an ancient artifact. You didn’t know how it was that he procured the item but it seemed like something that should have been in a museum. You did learn that many years ago it was considered stolen or lost. That didn’t sit well with you.

And when you tried to confront Harry about that he said nothing. He did look at you. His severe gaze sliced into you before he looked back at his computer and continued doing whatever it was.

You wanted to ask more questions. The man wasn’t even a gallery owner or someone from whom you’d normally buy art. The whole thing was shady. Something was off and Harry was giving you nothing.

But when you heard the price tag of the item you coughed and your eyes widened. The three of you were in a small dark room with shelves and boxes and the sculpture was sitting on a table under a light as Harry carefully inspected it.

“It’s legit. This is the real thing. I’ll let you look this over,” the man handed Harry a manila folder, “…you can see the paper trail. Where it stops. The timeline matches up. I’ll give you three hours to make a decision but after that, I have to move it to a safer location. I hope you understand the time constraint.”

You and Harry left the building, in silence as became your norm, and got into the car to head back to the hotel.

You watched Harry look through the paperwork and check the provenance but you knew this item was not going to have everything in place since it seemed it had been lost for some time. Big red flag. Perhaps this was what made Harry the kind of money he had. Dealing with lost or stolen artifacts was big money and definitely illegal. He had told you that he never did anything illegal.

Back at the hotel, Harry pointed, “Meet me in my room. Get your laptop. We have some work to do if we want to make this deal in the next three hours.”

You felt nervous. Felt sick to your stomach. Something was amiss about this whole deal and you didn’t like it. You weren’t sure you wanted to be involved at all.

When you got to Harry’s room he was on the phone with someone, “I saw it in person. It’s real. They are asking 2 but I can talk them down to 1.7. From there you and I can discuss what you’re willing to pay me but with the risk I’m taking I’d want a minimum of 2.5.”

He was discussing money. And you knew he was talking millions. The risk was that it was something that should not be on the market to purchase.

You waited for him to get off the phone before you spoke up, “Is this an illegal transaction?”

Harry looked down at his cell phone and typed something in before looking at you, unaffected, “No. I told you. Nothing I do is technically illegal.”

“I don’t want this to come back to bite me. If I’m involved in this and something happens? I could be linked somehow and I don’t  –“

“Nothing is going to happen other than a huge payout. Just do your job, Y/n. I need you to find everything you can about this,” he clicked his phone and looked back at you, “Just sent it to your email. Look through everything and compare it to the photos I attached. Go down the checklist attached and make notes. The item had some damage and I need to get his rate down so my client will be happy with the price.”

You got to work. Even if you were hesitant a bit, you didn’t want to disappoint Harry. He was your boss above all. And you were stuck in Argentina with him.

But the more you learned the worse it was. The item had been stolen during World War II. Now that was a long time ago but still. You understood why what Harry was doing wasn’t “technically” illegal. Because the client would be the one wiring the full amount and from there, Harry would meet in person with the client to get his cut once you got back to the U.S and he handed the item over to them. It was illegal but it wouldn’t come back to Harry. His name wouldn’t be associated with the transaction.

When you’d given Harry everything you found he seemed pleased.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” You said as you stood in front of him as he looked over the provenance and your findings.

“And what do you suggest? Just walk away? You do realize your salary is based on how much money I make, right?”

You nodded, “Yeah but if it’s illegal then I don’t want to be part of this. And Harry, this is illegal. Maybe your name isn’t on anything but this whole thing is–“

“Stop! I already lost out on the last big deal because of you and I’m not doing it anymore. You’re nothing but an employee to me, Y/n. That’s what you wanted so that’s what you’ll get.” He made it a point to remind you that his behavior was your fault.

You dropped your mouth open and felt your heart drop. He blamed you for the failed deal with Hallie? You didn’t know what to say. It made you feel awful. You felt the sting of tears in your eyes as you looked down and turned away from him so he couldn’t see what his words had done to you.

“Now let’s get ready. Meet me in the lobby in thirty minutes.”

You stayed quiet during the whole thing, which seemed to be your new norm. You didn’t even look at Harry. You wouldn’t. You tried to get over the hurt feelings you had but that turned into anger. You were feeling mad. He was a true asshole and you were glad you had that clarity now. No more feeling bad for hurting his feelings. He was probably faking his feelings anyway.

After the deal was done you both went back to the hotel together but Harry left to get dinner. Alone. You ordered room service.

And you weren’t going to be drinking anymore. Not while you were anywhere near Harry. If there was even a chance you’d see him you’d not be drinking. That seemed to make you forgive him too quickly and you didn’t want to forget about how angry you were with him.

.           .           .

Nothing changed even when you got back to the U.S. Harry hardly spoke to you unless it had something to do with work. He didn’t even ask you to get his lunches from Carl anymore. And if you saw him in the kitchen late at night you’d just turn around and walk away. You didn’t have anything to say to him.

You sucked it all up, though. The money he was paying you was good. Very good. But you weren’t sure how much longer you could last. You could only be his punching bag for so long.

Every morning you would get your coffee and Harry’s for him as well before bringing it into his office to begin your day. That morning was like every other morning. Or at least you thought it was.

“Y/n can you close the door behind you? We need to talk about something private.”

You paused at the door and as you looked at Harry behind his big desk you took your foot to gently shut the door since your hands were full.

Placing Harry’s mug down on his desk you sat down in your usual spot and waited for him to speak.

He sat back in his chair and turned to look at you, his expression unreadable, “I need you to sign this,” he slid a piece of paper across his desk toward you, “It’s a confidentiality agreement. I should have had you sign it when I first brought you on but… Well, now’s a good time I think.”

You picked up the paper and looked it over. An NDA. He wanted you to keep your mouth shut about the illegal things he was doing. And you were sure this was his plan all along. To hire you, give you a taste of that big fat salary and the kind of lifestyle he paid for you to enjoy, and then hit you with this.

“Why would I sign this? It only protects you?”

Harry reached for his coffee and took a sip before responding, “Because I’m telling you to sign it. Because I’m your boss. Because I need you to keep quiet about what you’ve seen if you’re going to work for me.”

You shook your head and sat the paper down on his desk before picking up your coffee mug and sipping it slowly then taking a deep breath for what you were about to tell this asshole, “I’m not signing it. You either trust me or you don’t. And if you don’t then I’ll leave right now and you can find someone else to be your bitch. I’m not someone you can just walk all over. I’m not taking the fall for you ever.”

“Is this really how it’s going to be? You’re willing to walk away from this job because of an NDA?”

You nodded, “Absolutely. It’s an insult to me and my character. I take this job seriously and you know that. This is you trying to exert your power over me and I’m not falling for it.”

Harry stood up from his desk and walked to his window with his back to you as you stayed seated comfortably and took another drink of your coffee.

On the outside, you appeared calm but on the inside, you were freaking out. This could be it. You would probably be losing your job now that you were taking a stand against Harry.

“I didn’t want it to be like this, Y/n. I thought maybe you’d understand the need for this agreement,” he turned toward you and walked to his desk, putting his palms down on the wood with his eyes on you, “Sign it. Please.”

You laughed and sat your mug down before standing up from your chair, “No.”

Harry rubbed his hands over his face, “God damnit!” He paced toward his bookshelf and back, “I need you to sign that. I’m gonna be honest here and say I don’t want to have to find anyone to replace you. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, “I’m not signing it, Harry. I already told you that if you feel like you can’t trust me at my word I’m out.”

Harry rounded the desk and stood in front of you, “I trust you but this,” he pointed at the document, “needs to get signed.”

Shaking your head you let out an incredulous laugh, “You know what? I don’t need any of this. You and your shady deals… the way you treat me–“

“How do I treat you? Hm?” He blocked you from stepping away from him.

You swallowed, “You’re not nice. Just because I felt uncomfortable after we had sex, you got your ego hurt or whatever and so you’re taking it out on me and… acting like I did something wrong.”

“I’m treating you the way you want to be treated, Y/n. This is exactly what you wanted. Is it not? Because you know what’s going to happen if we get too friendly again. So it’s this or the alternative.”

You tried to step to the side and move around him but he followed, staying directly in your path, “You’re not leaving this room until you sign that,” he pointed at his desk as his eyes bore into you.

“You can’t make me sign that, Harry. You have no power over this situation and you know it.”

“I don’t want to fire you, Y/n. Please just sign it.” He sounded defeated.

You pushed at his arm lightly to get him to move out of your way but he wrapped his hands under your forearms to hold you in place, “Y/n, look at me.”

You huffed and looked up at him, held in place by his hands and speaking through clenched teeth, “What?”

“I need this from you. Okay? It’s me. You can trust me. I know you know that. I might not be the nicest person to you but that’s just so we can maintain a professional relationship like you want. Please, Y/n.”

You couldn't understand why it was so important to him. If he trusted you he wouldn’t need it. But he did seem desperate.

“I can’t sign that. That’s incriminating to me if anything were to ever get out. My signature with a promise of silence? No. No way.”

Harry looked up at the ceiling and groaned before he looked back down at you his hands moving up to your upper arms, holding you still, “I’ll give you a raise. I’ll make it worth your while, Y/n. What do you want from me? What will it take to get you to sign it?”

You pulled your brows together and shook your head, “There’s nothing you can do to get me to sign that, Harry. This is a matter of trust. And it’s an insult. Another fucking insult from you.”

“No. It’s not an insult. It’s not personal. I trust you. I do. I swear.”

“Then you don’t need that do you?”

He was standing too close and his fingers were digging into your shirt over your skin and it felt like you couldn’t breathe. You noticed the stubble along his jaw and the darker patch of growth above his lip. Normally he was quite clean-shaven. Sometimes he’d let it go for a few days and you had to admit, you kind of liked the overgrown, unkempt look.

“Y/n,” he closed his eyes and you saw him clench his jaw before he looked back down at you, stepping in closer, “I… fine. You don’t have to sign it today. I can’t lose you or have you walk out on me. If we can trust each other then we can make this work. Will you take some time to at least consider signing it?”

You sighed and looked down at his shirt for an escape from his gaze, “I don’t know. I don’t think I can ever sign that.”

He released one of your arms and put his hand on your chin, pushing your eyes back up to his, “Just don’t walk out, okay? I’m worried you’re gonna quit and I’m gonna be fucked without you.”

You hated that you loved his hands on you. All it took was his nearness and his soft eyes looking into yours. But you didn't know how to respond exactly. You were glad he wasn’t going to make you sign it, yet. But how long did you have before he was badgering you about it again? You were still going to say no.

“If you trust me, you don’t need my signature on that document. I’ll never put pen to that paper, Harry.”

“Y/n…” his voice came out in a whisper as he moved his other hand up to your face, his thumb at your temple, “I just want to know you’ll stay. Forget the document right now.”

Even though you knew what was happening you couldn’t figure out why you weren’t trying to stop it. Why you weren’t pushing him away and telling him to keep his hands to himself.

“I’m here right now aren’t I?” You whispered back to him and suddenly your hands were on his forearms as he cupped your face in his hands and everything around you turned into a blur when his mouth found yours.

Your heart pumped violently in your chest as you slid your hands up to the back of his head and you felt yourself being moved to his desk, your bottom hitting the wood as he leaned over you and moaned when he felt your tongue against his.

You felt a notebook slip off the desk and something metal tipped over, hitting the wood. Everything was happening so fast.

Harry placed one palm down on the desk as his other hand held the back of your head, his tongue and mouth were instantaneous, urgent. You felt like a wilted flower about to blossom.

And you felt his desperation because you were experiencing it just the same. You both breathed in through your noses for oxygen as your lips slid together wetly. He was overpowering your senses but it was welcome in that instant. His scent, his weight against you, the stubble on his face scraping your soft skin.

His nose turned into yours and pushed your head to the side as he lowered his mouth down to your jaw. Wet, hot presses of his lips and licks of his tongue had you letting out a shaky moan as you clung to him tightly.

When he grazed his lips over your neck and sucked gently on your skin before lapping over the tiny bruise you felt his mouth lower to your sweet spot. That one little sensitive area that had your entire body igniting with need, your figurative wilted petals being nourished and opening up, seeking the sun and water and breeze.

“Don’t leave me, please,” he whispered into your neck between kisses and you stuffed your fingers into his hair.

Everything was spinning and disintegrating around you as his lips were ravaging your neck and up to your jaw again.

“Tell me you're not gonna leave me,” he pressed his mouth against yours, “Please, Y/n.”

The kisses slowed down, your mouths moving gently together, tongues softly poking out and retreating until you parted from the kiss, pushing at his chest so you could sit up.

And when his lips weren’t urgent against yours you felt the heavy realization of what had just happened crumble around you. You didn’t understand why you didn’t stop it at once, why you let it happen in the first place. Your brain new better. Your heart could not be trusted.

Your chest heaved as you looked at Harry, your hands still on his chest, “We can’t do this…”

Harry put his hands over yours, unmoving from his spot so close to you, “We can. There’s no reason to pretend there isn’t something here, Y/n.”

You watched his chest rise and fall and his kiss-swollen lips mouth the word please. You couldn’t hear him say it but you knew he said it.

Shaking your head you pushed him away and stood up, dizzy and flustered as you ran to the door to leave. For breath. For distance.

“Y/n wait!” Harry ran after you. “Please!”

You went to your room and stuffed your bag with things you’d need (for what? You weren’t sure at that moment) as Harry watched you from your door, “Y/n. Where are you going?”

You cleared your throat and looked at him. Which you immediately regretted. He looked heartbroken, “I need some air. I have to get out of here. I’m sorry,” your words were rushed as your hands trembled with the items you collected to bring with you.

Harry watched in dismay as you picked up your keys and walked past him before he reached for your elbow to stop you, “That’s fine. If you need to think. Just… come back to me okay?”

You couldn’t look at him as he said it and you didn’t respond as you walked down the stairs and out the door.

It was all too much for you. Reconciling what you knew you should have done and what actually was happening didn’t synch up. It didn’t make sense. You couldn’t stay there with him any longer.

.           .           .

Harry thought you’d return that evening after cooling off. He had a whole speech prepared for you. An apology, a confession… The NDA was because he was worried you were going to quit and that you might wind up saying something about what you’d seen.

But that had been stupid of him to try and get you to sign it. And you were right. It was a power move in a way. He wanted you to know who was in charge and put you in your place because he was so frustrated at how you’d regretted something that he longed for. Something he wanted. He’d wanted it so badly and then he had it… until you took that away from him. So this was vindication on some level. Vindication for the blow to his ego. To his heart. But that wasn’t fair to you.

When you didn’t come home he decided to give you space. Surely you’d be at work in the morning at 8 am. You just needed time.

But at 8:15 the following morning when you still hadn’t even so much as called he realized you may have needed more than just air. And that was concerning.

He called you and left a voicemail. And waited. And waited. You didn’t call back.

So he texted you later in the day after working a little (but he could hardly think of anything but you) but the response was the same. Radio silence.

Now Harry didn’t like being in serious relationships and didn’t like people invading his space or having someone clinging to him or wanting his attention or relying on him to be their emotional support in any way but his heart squeezed painfully in his chest when he thought about you and how much he enjoyed your company. It hurt to know that you weren’t feeling the same kind of connection he was feeling. It stung that he’d given a little bit of himself to you, whether you knew it or not, but that you rejected it. You didn’t want it.

He'd give you another day before he came knocking on your door to find out what was going on. One more sleepless night to let you come to your senses.

.           .           .

“Look, I know you, Y/n. You do this. Anytime someone gets close to you, you brush it off like it didn’t exist. When your dad tried to come back into your life last year? How he wanted to see you and make up for all that lost time?”

You shook your head, “That’s different.”

“No, it’s not. You run away from your problems when you can’t contain things in one neat and tidy box. And your relationship with Harry was never neat and tidy. So you’re pretending he doesn’t exist.”

You bit your lip and looked away from Brandy. You knew she was right in some ways. You couldn’t handle messy. Anything to do with your emotions that you couldn’t settle up in your head seamlessly you wanted nothing to do with.

And you couldn’t settle your heart and your head when it came to Harry.

“At least call him and tell him you don’t want to work for him anymore. I mean look at these texts, Y/n…” She held your phone out to you but you turned away. You couldn’t look. She’d read them to you already. You knew what they said. “He’s worried about you. All he’s asking is for you two to talk.”

Shaking your head you stood up from her couch, “I’m not talking to him. I’ll let the agency do it. I’m emailing Monica to tell her I need to be matched for something else.”

Brandy watching you grab your laptop from your bag and shoot off the email.

“I think it’s a mistake to quit.”

“Why would this be a mistake? Even if he was the nicest guy on earth, we can’t work professionally together. He can’t be my boss when we’re unable to stop from kissing in the middle of a disagreement or having sex on a work trip.”

You were leaving out the fact that he’d been up to something shady. Illegal. You decided you’d wait to reveal that to Brandy once everything blew over. As much as you hated that Harry was conducting business the way he was, you didn’t want him to get into trouble. Not that you ever thought Brandy would go off to the police or anything. It just felt better to keep that knowledge to yourself for a while.

“Okay. Fair enough. But you two have something. Why would you throw that away?”

“Because we don’t actually have something, Brandy. His judgment is clouded because I work for him and he likes that power, and that’s what turns him on. I’m easy access and forbidden. He doesn’t actually like me like that. And I guarantee the moment he learns I’ve quit he’s going to forget all about me.”

Brandy laughed, “You have to stop thinking that men don’t like you. You have to stop feeling like no one would ever find you attractive or that when they’re flirting with you that they aren’t. You always push that notion away but it’s crazy! It’s okay to admit when a man likes you back, Y/n. It’s okay to let that happen.”

You weren’t buying it. Men, as a rule, didn’t find you pretty. Not really. Not pretty enough to fall for. You were the safe girl for men to be around when they liked someone else. There would never be any confusion about that kind of thing. Not from you, not from anyone looking in from the outside.

Except Brandy of course. Always the optimist. You wonder what she’d say if she knew the whole truth about him.

.           .           .

Harry had it all planned out. He was going to buy you flowers and bring those special decadent chocolates from the chocolatier he learned you loved and beg for you to forgive him, or whatever it was that needed to be done. He was going to tear up the NDA in front of you so you knew he trusted you without a doubt. Confess his feelings to you once and for all. No more playing coy with you. He was going to win you over. Whatever it took.

And it was crazy that he was suddenly feeling such despair at the thought of losing you. He knew he was developing feelings for you. It was easy to fall for you with your spunk and your take-no-shit attitude, your adorable smile, your sexy mouth… there were countless things about you that he couldn’t get enough of. Knowing you might not come back had him anxious and feeling sick over it.

But before he had even gotten through half his day at work an email popped up from Personal Premier Services with the subject line: Exit Survey – Y/n Y/l/n 2776

He blinked his eyes as his heart thudded when he opened the email.

Dear Mr. Styles,

We’re sorry the assistant we matched you with didn’t work out. We strive to make sure all of our clients are pleased with the performance of each of our employees and would appreciate your response in the link provided so we know how we can make better choices for you in the future.

We’d love to be able to continue working with you. Please let us know if we can be of further assistance in finding the right person to work with.

Harry couldn’t finish reading as his eyes burned and his mouth went dry.

You had quit. You’d walked out after he kissed you and you weren’t coming back. He hadn’t expected you to quit. He should have seen it coming based on your lack of response to him but he didn’t. He was blindsided. Somehow he’d clung to the tiny bit of hope that you felt the same for him too.

Even though he was in the middle of searching for a piece of art his client wanted he stood from his chair and picked up his car keys, hurrying out of his home to make his way to you. There was no time to stop to pick up flowers or chocolates. No time to wait until the end of the workday after he’d made arrangements with a client. No time to pretend things would be okay anymore.

It took him over an hour to get to your apartment, traffic was shit. No surprise. He pulled up his contacts to find your apartment number once he arrived, and got out of his car to find which door was yours.

When he did find it and knocked with no answer he tried peeking into the one window but he could barely make out anything. You had drapes hung over the window and it appeared all the lights were off.

So he waited. He sat by your door and waited for you until you came back. Nothing else was more important to him at that moment. Even if he waited all night. To Harry, this was code red. His last shot with you.

.           .           .

You were feeling clear-headed. It was the right choice. It had to be because you couldn’t work for a man like Harry. A man who did illegal things and wanted you to sign an NDA so you wouldn’t talk. A man who you were far too attracted to for it to make any sense. It would just be a series of fights and cold shoulders and sex and longing…

Definitely, it was the right choice to quit. It had to be.

Unfortunately for you, when you got to your door Harry was there, scrambling to push himself up from where he’d been sitting, “Y/n…”

“What are you doing here?”

“I want to talk. I want to make things right with you.”

You shook your head and gripped the shoulder strap of your bag, “There’s nothing to make right. We aren’t good working partners. I should have never agreed to work with you.”

Harry stepped forward and took your hand, “Y/n. We… this isn’t even about work anymore okay? I don’t care about that. Quit if you want. If that’s what you need.”

You pulled your hand away from him, “What do you mean this isn’t about work?”

He sighed and kept his eyes on you, “Because… I like you. I feel like we’re–“

“No. Stop. Don’t do that. You’re confused because when I worked for you that was fun and risky for us to do. But I’ll bet that when the disappointment of me quitting wears off you’ll realize you don’t actually like me like you think you do.”

Harry furrowed his brow as you stepped past him to unlock her door, “What? What are you talking about? I’m serious, Y/n.”

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t think you actually are, Harry,” you pushed your door open.

He was beginning to panic. He hadn’t expected you to reject him telling you that he liked you.

“Wait. Please. Look, okay,” he put his hands up in surrender. “Can I come in? We can just calmly discuss this. Person to person. Also, I really have to take a piss. I’ve been out here for almost four hours waiting for you and I should have thought about that before I left my house but I was in such a rush to get here–“

“Fine. Come in.” You let him through your door and closed it. “Bathroom’s just there in that hall. Do want something to drink?”

Harry looked at you with those soft eyes that made you falter for a second, “Some water would be great. Thank you, Y/n.”

You couldn’t believe that you’d let him in. That you were pouring water for him while he used your toilet. In your apartment. You shook your head thinking about how ridiculous it was that he was sitting outside of your door waiting for you.

When he came out you had his glass of water on a coaster on your coffee table in front of the couch. You took the chair at the side. There was no way you were going to sit next to him. Things didn’t seem to always go as planned when he got too close and you couldn’t have that happen.

“Sit,” you gestured at the couch.

Harry sat down and picked up the glass of water, taking a few big gulps, nearly finishing the entire thing.

You crossed your arms over your chest and waited for him to talk. You had nothing to say in that moment. You hoped it would be quick and he’d be out soon. You didn’t want to look at his handsome sad face for too long or you were worried you’d fold once again. Seemed it didn’t matter if alcohol was involved or not after all.

“Y/n you don’t have to work for me. I know maybe it’s not the best environment when we’re both attracted to one another the way we are. That’s okay. But… I don’t want to stop seeing you.”

“You’re not attracted to me in the way you think you are.”

Harry let out a laugh of confusion, “I can tell you with 100% certainty that I am extremely attracted to you. And it’s not just because you’re sexy. You’re intelligent and funny. I like you, Y/n.”

You shook your head, “Like I said. Wait until the disappointment of me quitting clears. You’re just not getting your way right now and that’s a challenge for you and you’re mistaking those feelings for excitement or attraction.”

The look on Harry’s face was sheer confusion, “What you’re saying is absurd. I came here to confess my feelings for you, Y/n. I… I like you more than I’ve ever liked anyone. This is not some strange psychological thing where I’m confusing a challenge for attraction.”

“And you’re into illegal things so I just… I can’t be around that. It’s not worth it to me. You wanted me to sign an NDA. Put my name on a document that proves guilt and sign off on it? And now you’re telling me this? I call bullshit.”

“I don’t want you to sign the fucking NDA. That was stupid. It was in bad taste. It was a way for me to make sure you didn’t quit. I was desperate for keeping hold of something I felt slipping away.”

You laughed loudly, “A lot of good that did.

“I know. I’m so sorry. Y/n please… I’m dead serious here. Do you not like me? Are you not feeling this?” He gestured between himself and you.

You forced yourself to make eye contact with him and it nearly had your heart torn in shreds. You didn’t like the way your mind said one thing and your heart screamed at you for another. But even if you did like him and he liked you, then what? He was doing things that were disreputable. Illegal. That made him a person you didn’t want to be around. You had morals and you had your dignity to look out for.

“Harry it doesn’t matter what I feel or what you feel. I can’t be with you as an employee or a lover, or whatever it is you think you’re looking for. You’re involved in illicit sales of stolen artifacts and artwork. It’s illegal and I know that most of the money you’ve made has been doing dirty deals. How can I ever get over that?”

He looked down at the floor in thought. You were right. He understood your position but he couldn’t accept it. It was too much for him to wrap his head around that you would deny your feelings for him just for something that he thought wasn’t all that bad in the grand scheme of things.

“Y/n, I think it does matter what you feel and what I feel. I think that matters more than anything else actually,” he got up from his spot and you watched him with caution as he stood in front of you and got onto his knees, taking your hands in his, “Y/n, I can’t just walk out of here like this. I see it in your eyes when you look at me. You feel this too, don’t you? Tell me the truth.”

The fucked up part about looking into his eyes was that you softened for him every single time you did it. You tried to be strong and fierce. To be a woman with unshakable values and a strong sense of self but Harry had you feeling wobbly and unsure, “I do, but… it’s not fair.” You willed the tears to stop from filling your eyes.

“It’s not fair to us to ignore this. This feeling. This connection, Y/n.”

“Harry, what’s not fair to me is the way you treated me that first night. What’s not fair is that you hired me and didn’t disclose to me what you really do to make your money. It’s not fair to me that you’re here right now saying all this to me when it’s impossible! How can I say that I respect myself if I allow this to go any further with you?”

Your tears had a mind of their own as they pushed their way out of your sockets and poured down your face. You closed your eyes and then felt Harry’s thumb at your cheek, wiping your tears.

“Y/n, what do you want? What do you want me to do? Hm? How can I make you forgive me for that night? That was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made. And everything else? What can I do?”

You shook your head but you didn’t dare open your eyes to look at him, “Harry you can’t do anything. The damage is done.”

“Y/n I can make it right. Please tell me what to do.”

“You can leave. That’s what you should do.” Finally, you peeled your eyes open and looked at him directly. You wanted him to know you meant business.

“Can’t we just–“

You pointed at the door, “Leave. Now. Leave my apartment, Harry. Go.”

Harry stood up slowly and swallowed thickly as he scratched the back of his neck and turned toward your door.

You pushed yourself from the seat ready to lock the door behind him but he turned back to look at you, “Please don’t do this, Y/n.”

You felt a pit in your stomach and a lump in your throat as you pointed at the door, “Go. Please, Harry. Just go.”

When your door was closed and your deadbolt latched you broke down into a sobbing mess on your couch where he’d sat. Only in private would you let yourself feel all those things your heart had pleaded for you to feel. You didn’t want anyone to see this. To know how devastated you were. It was the right choice but the ache in your chest felt like hopelessness.

To have found someone like Harry, the glimpses of his soul and his kindness and his cheekiness, the way he treated you when things were good…

But you had to collect yourself and wipe your tears and move on.

It was time to figure out your next move. Your lease was coming up and you had enough money to find somewhere else to go now. You felt like a new start in a new apartment, maybe in a different city would be good for you. It would make it harder for Harry to ever just traipse up to your apartment again and try to sweep you off your feet.

The first thing you did was block his number and his email and then you opened your laptop to begin the search for a new place to live. A new beginning.

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[rottenpumpkin13]

You know how moms have photos of their kids that the kids find mortifying, their friends find hilarious and moms find endearing?

What photos does Lazard have of his idiots?

Blackmail Photos On Lazard's Phone

• Sephiroth and Angeal sweeping confetti from the floor after an office party but they're posing like American Gothic, with Sephiroth holding up the broom like the pitchfork.

• The same after party cleanup, this time it's Sephiroth and Angeal beating Genesis with their broomsticks because he wasn't helping.

• Zack holding out his burger, where Sephiroth is taking a bite.

• Sephiroth in the corner of the conference room using Genesis' balled up red coat as a pillow and his hair as an eye mask.

• The First Class trio covered in mud after a mission. Head to toe. They clearly look like they're being forced to stake the picture.

• Minutes later, a photo of Genesis and Sephiroth flinging mud at each other while Angeal yells at them.

• Angeal mid-fall as the chair he had been teetering on finally tipped back. Lazard had been warning him he would fall, but Angeal didn't listen.

• Sephiroth with a failed merchandise prototype that's a plushie of Genesis, but it doesn't have eyebrows. Sephiroth is holding it like a trophy.

• Zack changing a lightbulb on Angeal's shoulder. Sephiroth and Genesis thought the pose looked cool, so Genesis can be seen on Sephiroth's shoulders in the background, except he's falling so he's just a blur of red.

• A shame photo he took of Angeal sweeping up the dirt he tracked into the 49th floor after purchasing yet another office plant.

• A photo of Genesis taken at 4:15 AM, where he's wearing sunglasses and holding a cup of coffee. His coat is inside out.

• Sephiroth at lunch with ketchup all over his chest after the ketchup bottle nozzle broke and squirted everywhere. Zack's hand can be seen dipping a fry into Sephiroth's chest.

• An unflattering photo of Genesis mid-yawn. Angeal and Sephiroth are beside him, Angeal is holding up a piece of Sephiroth's hair so it looks like Genesis is about to eat it.

• Sephiroth having an existential crisis inside a giant cardboard box, except only his eyes are visible, reminiscent of a hippo partially underwater.

• Zack standing in front of a PowerPoint presentation where one slide is just the word "ASS" on screen. He's doing a thumbs up.

• A followup photo of Zack lowering his head in shame, "ASS" still visible on the PowerPoint behind him. Angeal and Sephiroth are arguing in the photo over wether or not Zack should be allowed to spell "ASS" on an official PowerPoint presentation.

• A photo of Genesis laying on the couch in the break room, except it's zoomed in to see what's on his screen. Genesis is in the process of looking up "Sephiroth x Genesis fanfiction enemies to lovers slow burn" online.

• Zack, but his head is through a wall after he ran into it. Lazard actually took this photo to show upper management that they need to do some remodeling.

• Someone organized the letter magnets in the break room fridge to read "Fuck bitches get money" and Sephiroth is standing in front of it, doing a thumbs up.

• Angeal in the process of pouring a beer into a bowl of cereal instead of milk. What makes this photo funny is Zack sobbing in the background as he watches this.

• Genesis but he's just a red blur of motion mid-slip, the wet floor sign in full view.

• Cloud standing outside Genesis' office holding a cardboard sign that reads "PRAY FOR GENESIS. NOTHING HAPPENED TO HIM, HE'S JUST A CUNT."

• A shame photo he made Genesis, Angeal and Sephiroth take, where they're crossing out the "This department has gone 15 days without a Jenga-related fight."

• Another shame photo of Sephiroth who's sitting on the floor with his head in his hands, his fallen bowl of splattered ramen on the floor beside him.

• Genesis mid-mental breakdown, curled into a ball on the floor in his office, where they pranked him by filling it with cardboard cutouts of Sephiroth.

• Cloud Strife (in his infantry uniform) posing next to his employee of the month photo. Yes, this was on the SOLDIER floor.

[lavenderprose]

Once again I am rotating EdIzzy Intricate Rituals and also, predictably, Izzy Hands carpet munching

Izzy, who would suck Ed's dick for breakfast lunch and dinner and thank him for the privilege, clamps his legs SHUT the moment Ed starts making any sort of movement past his tits. They do not talk about this. Ed assumes Izzy has some dysphoria stuff going on. Or whatever a 1700s pirate would call dysphoria. Basically, Ed's mouth waters when he smells Izzy's lap but apparently getting head makes the gender ghosts that live in Izzy's brain angry, y'know? Oh well.

Meanwhile, the gender ghosts and everything else that lives in Izzy's brain think about nothing BUT Ed going down on him. The list of Most Common Thoughts in Izzy's head is thus:

1.) Murder.

2.) That knot looks wrong. Who tied that knot. What the fuck is going on with that KNOT-- (Cont. see: Topic #1)

3.) Ed Teach's fucking mouth.

He has dreams about it. It's a whole thing. HOWEVER, something something all the internalized phobias, something something Izzy's self loathing, something something Blackbeard doesn't give head. Izzy won't allow Ed to DEBASE himself for the likes of himself. A captain can't SERVICE his first mate. It's not how things are DONE. What would God Mother DAVY JONES say??

This goes on for anywhere between several months to twenty-mumble years depending on just how ill you need these men to be about each other to nut, or whatever.

Enter: Stede Bonnet, who Izzy absolutely does not respect and who eats pussy like he's been in a loveless sexless marriage for twenty years. That is so say: badly, weirdly, and with enough eagerness that the first two things don't matter.

Someone once said that Stede just sticks his nose in it. This is fact.

Point is, one day Ed walks in on Izzy with Stede knee deep in the passenger's seat and has a full-on existential crisis.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN I COULD HAVE BEEN DOING THIS FOR TWENTY(?) YEARS, Ed shouts as he wraps Izzy's thighs around his head.

"Oh, that's how you do that," says Stede, and Izzy pretends that the kick he delivers to Stede's chest is purely because Ed is doing something with his tongue that Izzy thought was only possible in one of those weird dreams were nobody has to breathe.

Your Poor Wife floats a voice on the wind--Davy Jones, in case you were wondering, because he actually HAS been watching this whole time.

"Did you hear something?" asks Lucius, several decks away.

"Not at all," says Fang, and ignores the fact that everyone on the ship can clearly hear a very distictive raspy voice wailing from the Captain's cabin.

[peggy24601]

here are my notes from last night's Les Mis performance on West End (mostly Grantaire related whoopsie)

i have way too much shit to say I still haven't processed my emotions so bear with me

Gavroche saying “Aye aye governor” to Javert right before Stars! This kid is d(￣◇￣)b💯ᵖᵉʳᶠᵉᶜᵗ

Grantaire staying carefully away from Enjolras during Red and Black… before slapping the ever living hell out of Enjolras’ butt??? Sir??? Where did that confidence come from??? 

Gavroche being Grantaire's son, and Enjolras trying to also be a figurehead for him (does he want to be included? Is he doubtful of R's capacity as a parent? You decide!) 

Everyone roasting Marius (even someone shouting “Shut up Marius”)! Beautiful! Applauded!!! 

Cosette rushing to help Éponine off the floor after Thénardier slaps her.. Then holding her hands as they stare in each other's eyes **lesbians intensifies**

Grantaire being drunk af during One Day More, but taking a step to be seen by Enjolras, then Enjolras giving him a smile and a pat on the shoulder before going in front of him!!! I can't!!! 🥺

Grantaire trying to help but also keeping himself clearly separated from the rest of the boys during Here Upon These Stones

Gavroche being a little shit™

GAVROCHE EXPOSING JAVERT, GRANTAIRE GIVING HIM HIS BOTTLE SO HE CAN PUT THE KID ON A TABLE AND GAVROCHE DOWNING IT'S CONTENT AND R JUST RUFFLING HIS HAT

Gavroche and Grantaire being the first ones to find Éponine and Marius in A Little Fall of Rain, and Grantaire holding him the whole time

Enjolras going to comfort Marius when Éponine dies and Grantaire keeping him from doing it so Gavroche can go instead

Gavroche giving Marius Éponine's hat 😭😭

Enjolras trying to go and comfort Grantaire during his existential crisis in Drink with Me, but him running away from Enjolras before Gavroche practically tackles him in a back hug on the wall!!! 

Everyone looking at Grantaire when Gavroche rushes over the barricade

Enjolras running to catch Gavroche when he's shot then giving him to Grantaire and looking absolutely destroyed

Grantaire yelling “You bastards” during the barricade call

Even after the final battle begins, Grantaire still stays back, he's not ready to start fighting yet. But then he sees Enjolras and he be running to be shot too

Grantaire’s actor's sleeve got caught on a piece of the set so his arms were in the most awkward position for the Bring Him Home reprise

Enjolras being brought out in a cart, Javert blessing Gavroche’s dead body before signaling to a police man to put him on a cart with Enjolras

Empty Chairs at Empty Tables! Enjolras and Grantaire being next to each other, then face to face, THEY'RE NARRATIVE FOILS

Valjean saying “must-a” in an almost Italian accent in Who Am I reprise…  twice

May I present M. Thénardier “I wish I would've married your sister” and his wife “I wish you were dead”

Enjolras and Grantaire holding Gavroche between them at the end of the show, Enjolras was accepted as a figurehead and Grantaire gets his man they're in paradise I'm not sobbing you are

[duskyvenus]

Super Blue Moon: What you need to hear right now

This is a general intuitive reading meant for entertainment purposes. Take whatever resonates. I am still practicing my intuitive ability so feedback would be really helpful :))

Pile 1

You might be wanting peace, a quiet life. I'm seeing walks in the nature, consuming healthy unprocessed food, lots of fruits. You might like red or orange colored fruits (could be any). I'm sensing changes in lifestyle. Maybe you will relocate or renovate your home (changing your aesthetics and style). Your soulmate(romantic) or current partner or future partner(whatever resonates) is sending you messages of affirmation. Also they might like to stare at you and admire your features lol. I'm hearing: It's all about the little things. Maybe this is something you believe in or it is about to become a theme in your life in the near future. A short trip or holiday might soothe your nerves a bit, preferably somewhere cooler. Overall, I think change is coming your away; there's this picture of letting things go and relaxing in a lodge in the mountains while sunlight creeps in through the window. Yeah lots of sunshine imagery in this pile. It's about how the sun slowly warms you up. Slowly and surely you will be moving to the next stage.

Pile 2

Similar to pile 1, I think you might be in need of some sunlight lol. I'm seeing something about hobbies, so maybe you need to get back to them? You might not have completed a previous painting, book, blanket or whatever. I'm also seeing cakes which means some kind of celebration. It might be your friend's birthday soon. Yeah I'm hearing about a dear friend, someone you think is your soulmate (for some of you, they are :] ). Or maybe a connection where either person has romantic feelings and the other feels neutral. Some of you might be studying hard and preparing for your future job and you're trying to keep a positive mindset. I see so many drawings and scribbles in a notebook. This is the student pile. I'm also seeing baked food and the aroma of cafes. Maybe you like to do your work in a cafe with a cup of coffee and some cake. Also you might be secretive and like to keep things to yourself. Might be a homebody. You are working to chase a reward and you're feeling frustrated because the path is so long. Don't be too hard on yourself. Set small goals and reward yourself for finishing them.

Pile 3

Whimsical and airy vibes for this pile. I'm hearing that you might have witnessed something paranormal? Or something that just can't be real. Hmm existential crisis? Questioning the universe? Questioning yourself? I'm seeing wings. You might be wanting to just fly away lol. Or they could be angel wings. You might be feeling lonely. Recently you might have ended a friendship or relationship OR you might have lost someone so you feel empty. I'm really sorry for your loss :( A big phase of your life suddenly came to an end so you're feeling lost. Old memories flashing in your head. Though I also feel that someone wants to approach you with hopes of making new memories with you. They seem like a very doting person and also calm. 'Calm'; your head is a mess and you feel like you're not able to think clearly. You might be asking yourself, "Am I seeing/hearing things?", "Why am I not able to do such a simple task?" Maybe your spirit guides or guardian angel want(s) to communicate with you and for that I'm hearing lavender and mint. Meditation may also help you to sort out your thoughts.

Pile 4

This is the happy-go-lucky pile. I'm seeing you have so much fun with your friends! You seem like the type to uplift people's moods. It feels empty when you're not around. You might feel pressured to keep up this cheerful image. Lately someone might have been rude to you or accused you of something or just bad-mouthed you. You might have felt taken aback because of this and tried to reflect on yourself. Don't worry, they're just jealous. Maybe you started thinking about the time when your demeanor was very different from now; you were not a cheerful person to begin with, but you started acting this way because you wanted to be treated differently. Now that there has been a sudden rejection that is asking you to re evaluate your choices, you are considering reverting back to your old self. Or maybe you think a lot about your friendships and just feel overwhelmed by the love :( This is so wholesome. You feel deeply and often wonder about the outcomes of your actions. I think that's why you wanted change, you genuinely wanted to be of help to someone. Your friends really appreciate it even though they won't admit openly (for some of you, your friend is a tsundere lol)

Pile 5

An ethereal energy in this pile. Stargazing and being mesmerized. You know that feeling you get when you look up at the stars and wonder if someone is watching you? I think your guardian angels want you to know that they are always there for you. If not a guardian angel then a deceased loved one. You have big aspirations but you often feel intimidated. You may have doubts about the path you're choosing. I just want to say that you have the star quality and you're blessed. I'm hearing fate and good luck. If you have been manifesting, try using candles or star shaped objects. You can even use them as a lucky charm. "You drew stars around my scars" - this may apply to you and someone you know. Something about light at the end of the tunnel. 'Hope' ; someone or something gives you hope to keep going. You're working really hard, you just wonder if you'll get the results. This kind of reminds me of pile 2 so you might want to check that out. "Funny how all dreams come true"

Pile 6

You might be talking to someone and you don't really know where this is going? You can say it's a situation-ship. Or you're crushing hard on someone. Either way this is making you giddy. You might also be transforming yourself and so all the changes are making you feel giddy. A very new feeling. You're trying to look at things differently. You're trying to concentrate. You're craving some form of affection. The message I'm getting is that self care will help you get that faster. Also I'm hearing that you have a vibe that is easy to mesh with. People often find you attractive even when you're not doing anything. "Aphrodite's blessings" - you may get the glow-up you've been waiting for. Similar starry night vibes as pile 5. You're also really good at giving compliments and appreciating the beauty of the smallest things. You are a very loving person if you are given the space to do so. "Hang in there baby." - your future partner could be very devoted to you.

A channeled message for everyone: Please eat well !! And have some good sleep!! Take your vitamins!!

[quitealotofsodapop]

Ok but Wukong would be having the BIGGEST existential crisis. His other self had a mother!? He had a BROTHER!? WHAT!?

Prev.

Not only that, but Wukong is also tackling seeing his kingdom in it's dare-he-say Golden Era.

Alolai is an island nation, with Flower Fruit Mountain as it's capital. Almost every island on the archipelago is inhabited by happy primate demons. There's no sign of the Burning that occurred when Wukong was tossed into the Furnace. There are scars of past battles, yes, and a few islands with smoking volanoes. But the islands are healthy.

His kingdom is alive.

After introductions are made and things settle down, Wukong asks the Matriarch a very important question;

(*the Monkie Kids and the stone royals are all sitting together drinking tea in a side office. The Monkey King looking very conflicted. After a long silence he finally decides on his question.*) Wukong: "How did you guys survive? All I know of the Great Flood is that everyone except maybe the Elder who found me was lost." Shihua: "We came very close to being lost beneath the waves. Ye Lin and I had even made preparations for the end when we saw the Fifth Pillar collapsing. But before the worst of the deluge could cover the island - a great dark shield encompassed the island." Wukong: "A dark shield?" Shihua: "I am unsure of the name, as it is a magic different from my own. When the darkness receded, our fellow primates from beyond the stars were there. Long-Arms, Lotus Ears, Painted Backs, all of them. They had taken hold of the tides with their magic and directed them away from the island." Wukong: "Fellow primates??? Wait, do you mean-" Tang, interrupting with a loud gasp: "The Long Armed Gibbon and the Red Buttocked Horse Monkey!" Wukong & Shihua: (*give Tang the same annoyed look*) Tang, embarrassed: "Oof. Sorry" Ye Lin, small fake-cough to break the tension: "We were very grateful! Not only for our lives but well... (*Ye Lin takes Shihua's hand in his own, looking lovingly into her eyes*) Ye Lin: "The lives of our sons too." Luzhen, whispering: "Baba's about to get sappy." Ye Lin: "Me and my gorgeous Stone Flower had made a pact that we would fling a light into the future no matter what. And when the danger had passed, and we saw that our kingdom was spared - we decided it was finally time to grow our family." Shihua, fond smile: "Shihou and Luzhen were born some years later. Even when incubating in different bodies, they were born nearly identical." Ye Lin, goofy smile: "I honestly forget which one either of us carried - they were born so close together!" Luzhen, annoyed groan: "You had me, dad! Mama had Shihou." (*The Monkie Gang, mumbling in the bg: "How??" "Demon thing. Don't be rude."*) Wukong, thinking hard: "So when I hatched... you made sure I'd be born somewhere safe? Atop the mountain away from the flood waters?" Shihua, gently: "Yes son. If I had been lost to the Flood, then well... you would have still found a way to grow and hatch on your own. It's a power we possess as children of the Earth Mother." Wukong, tears welling up: "So I could have been born with a mother? A father and brother even? I wasn't supposed to be alone?" (*the parental monkey couple swoop in to comfort this strange, alternate version of their elder son - nuzzling and chirping at him like he was an upset cub. Wukong flinches at first, making them even more concerned. Luzhen joins in after a moment, holding his not-twin close*) Luzhen, half-chirping: "Hey, hey, it's ok gege. You heard mom. We were always meant to be born." Wukong, sobbing: "But I don't have any of you! I don't even have my own twin. If it wasn't for Elder and the Stalwarts finding me, I would have been completely alone!" Shihua, shushing: "It's ok, baobei. You're not alone now. Even if you are not my son in this dimension, you are clearly my Xiao-Shihou in heart and soul. I am glad that you at least know that your family loves you. No matter what." (*The famed Monkey King falls into the Matriarch's arms, sobbing like a hurt cub running to their mother. Shihua hugs him without hesitation. Ye Lin lightly hugs Wukong's side, running his thing fingers through the sage's fire-damaged hair. Luzhen rests his head on his not-brother's shoulder, unsure of what to do. He can't imagine a world where Shihou grew up alone. The rest of the strangers sniffle and hide their sad expressions, all except the younger monkey demon MK, who clings to his mentor like a limpet.The royal monkeys do not question his presence, they bring him into the cuddle pile too.*)

There is a very sad Monkey King in this room. One that is having a crisis of learning that he could have had a family. A family that did not expect him to be King or anything other than theirs. A mother wise and adoring. A father intelligent and dorky. A cheeky twin brother who clearly thinks the world of him.

A world where he wasn't The Monkey King.

Bonus: A certain other monkey has his own questions once Wukong has cried out. Ones that I may have alluded to in a past post.

Macaque: "Hey... you said something about Lotus Ears?" Ye Lin, puzzled: "You are one yourself, aren't you?" Macaque, equally confused: "Huh? No- well, I don't think so. I'm *THE* Six Eared Macaque where I'm from." Ye Lin, shares fearful look with wife: "Oh dear. If you are alone as well then..." Shihua, sad nod: "Then our allies on Yuewang did not survive either." Macaque: "Yuewang?" Ye Lin, nerd mode: "Kingdom of the Moon. It is the capital for celestial primates living outside of Earth. Our allies; the Lotus Eared are the main clan stationed there. Named for their multiple, petal-like ears of course. Macaque: "...there are more of me?" Luzhen, snort of disbelief: "Uh yeah! You didn't think you were created in a vacuum did'ya?" Macaque: (*gets very quiet, refusing to look at the other monkeys*) Pigsy, trying to change the subject for Macaque's sake: "So! I guess the means Chang'e has a lot more company than our world, huh?" Shihua, smiling: "Oh, Princess Chang'e! Poor thing, banished to the moon all those centuries ago..." Ye Lin: "Thank Nuwa that the Lotus Eared clan took her in." Shihua: "I honestly can't imagine her without them. Lán Yuè Liang [blue moon] treats her like their firstborn child." Ye Lin: "And she's such a good big sister! Macaque, perking up: "Sister?" Shihua, fond laugh: "Lan Yue Liang's cub had been born just after the Flood, and they gave Chang'e the honour of naming him. She panicked a little, and gave him the name Six Eared Macaque." Wukong, sly understanding smile: "Liu'er Mihou." Macaque: (*excited and anxious tail thumping!?*) "That's my name. Chang'e was the one who found me. I hatched on my own in the desert of the moon." Ye Lin, happy chirp: "Gracious! I suppose that would make you your world's Prince Liu'er then! " Luzhen: "I thought I recognised that face marking!" Macaque, near-shriek: "PRINCE!?"

So yeah now there's three monkeys in the room having a total crisis of identity. And three more having a time trying to comprehend how the original three have been left alone and uninformed for so long ;_;

Just realised that MK likely hasn't told his fam about what he saw in his memory or of his connection to Nuwa. So MK is now panicking if he exists in another form in this other world...

[darkpoisonouslove]

I am sick of people constantly reducing Alicent's entire character down to her being in love with Rhaenyra. I can ship it and still see Alicent as a separate character. Granted, I don't like the character arc they've written for her because it's slow as hell, it completely destroys her agency and it strands her outside of the main plot but people need to shut up about how Alicent was about to drown herself because of Rhaenyra kissing Mysaria.

First of all, she wasn't even trying to drown herself. I know that line about not being sure if she means to return to King's Landing was suspicious but at what point did Alicent show she was trying to drown herself? She wasn't just floating in the water, she was actually, very leisurely, swimming so she clearly didn't mean to drown. And she took off her dress to remain only in her underclothes since her dress would have gotten heavy and dragged her down. She was actively trying to avoid that and keep her dress dry, which means she very much meant to get out of the lake.

Second of all, I know the joke is that Alicent can sense Rhaenyra kissed another woman but I've seen people genuinely not saying it as a joke. She doesn't have the faintest clue what the fuck is happening with Rhaenyra and here's the part y'all are not gonna like - she doesn't actually care. If she got any kind of feeling something was off, it would have been drowned out by everything else that is wrong in her life and she perceives as her fault.

This woman has been having an ongoing existential crisis since the second fucking episode of this season when she decided her grandchild's brutal murder was a punishment from the gods for her sins. Things have only gone downhill from there. In episode three Rhaenyra delivered a truth that disillusioned Alicent about her excuse for going against Viserys' wishes and against Rhaenyra. She didn't actually believe he changed his mind about who should inherit the throne but it did provide her with an excuse that would give her enough peace of mind for her to not fall apart and prioritize her children's safety. Only for her grandson to get decapitated and for Rhaenyra to make it impossible to remain in denial about her own decision to go against her husband's wishes.

Given who Alicent is as a person, that would have been enough to send her spiraling but she now has to deal with - in her perception - the fact that her attempt to avoid the pain of losing her children has resulted in Helaena losing her child. She literally feels that she traded her children's lives for Helaena's son's life and avoiding mourning her children comes at the price of her passing that pain onto Helaena... and Aegon. However, Alicent cannot bear to empathize with Aegon's pain because he is the embodiment of all the ruin in her life. He was her first child, the first product of Viserys maritally raping her and still, he has her heart. He was the main challenge to Rhaenyra's reign. He would have to be killed first before any danger came for his brothers. He was the main reason she had to do what she did and expose Helaena to all this pain because she still wanted to save him. Jaehaerys was the price they paid for Alicent's attempt to keep Aegon alive. She blames him just as much for Helaena's suffering as she blames herself and that's what stops her from comforting him.

And then all that comes back to hurt her AND the realm again. Because of her behavior and her words Aegon decided to prove himself and is now disabled and disfigured by his own brother. Now Aemond has caused his siblings pain and she can't help any of them. She can't do anything for Aegon and Aemond won't let her do anything for him. She gives Aemond contradicting feelings and a disgust for the vulnerability he shows because of her the same way Aegon gives her contradicting feelings and disgust about his vulnerability and her own.

And on top of that! There was a riot that threatened Helaena. And while Alicent was there to protect her, all her life's work, all her attempts to do right by the small folk and be a good queen have been erased by a war that she had to fight for the sake of her children's lives. Everyone she's been trying to protect hates her and/or has pulled away from her. Things are even tense and uncertain between her and Criston - the guy she literally saved from taking his own life by becoming his cause! She's having a fucking existential crisis that's been slowly progressing since the end of the first episode! Rhaenyra's not anywhere near the top of her list with priorities. If I'm not mistaken she hasn't really mentioned her since the scene in the Sept. She's mentioned Viserys a few times instead.

While I'm not a fan of the way they're writing her as completely disconnected from the main plot since she's too busy having a meltdown, Alicent is having her own arc that revolves way more around her children rather than around Rhaenyra. Her feelings for Rhaenyra certainly are a part of that arc since her refusal to let go of them is what has stopped her from acting a lot more decisively towards protecting her children (all she had to do was tell her guards Rhaenyra was there when she left the Sept and she would have ended the whole war) but they aren't the sole point of her character as people too often claim, even if it's in jest.

[writing-for-life]

Dream’s Therapist

Emotions

I have prepared for today’s session with going over previous notes. I decided to carefully delve deeper into the topic of the client’s own perceived emotional detachment that is so visibly not the case (he feels very clearly, even if he occasionally pretends he doesn’t. We have made some progress in last week’s session that I would like to build on).

The client is on time again (well, slightly early). When he comes into my office, the coat stays on this time. I don’t engage in small talk, as it seems his perceived preference.

DT: How has the thinking and journaling gone since last week? How have you been feeling over all?

Dream (He sits straight as an arrow and doesn’t look at me): I don't feel. I exist. Emotions are for mortals.

DT (I admit to myself that I am a tad disappointed. For him. I thought we were making progress, but it seems we are back to square one): I see. Have you been journaling, as suggested?

Dream (I notice a sigh I can only interpret as dejected): Yes. I did peruse the infernal book. “Dear Diary, a star died. It was mildly annoying.”

DT (I cannot help but think there is more to this than meets the eye and proceed with caution): I guess annoyance is a feeling?

Dream (I notice his stare is even more vacant than usual): I don't feel. The star had unresolved issues.

DT (I notice he projects and is trying to deflect at the same time): We are not talking about the star’s issues though, are we? We are talking about whatever has been going on with you, either over the past week or in general.

Dream: Not today. (The way he purses his lips is reminiscent of someone who has sucked on a lemon, and I get the feeling today’s session will be… difficult. I decide to change tack and revisit the topic dreams and nightmares since he opened, and lightened, up about them the last time.)

DT: Is there anything else you would rather talk about? Your nightmares? Your dreams?

Dream: I don't dream. I weave tapestries of existential dread.

DT (It’s really going backwards now): And what do these tapestries tell you?

Dream (I notice he crosses one leg over the other and leans back in his chair. Not without also crossing his arms in front of his chest): That my thread count is impeccable.

DT (I notice extreme defensiveness and decide on a different course of action): Are you open to trying an exercise?

Dream (I notice the eye-roll): If I must.

DT: There are no “musts” in here. You either decide to give it a shot or you don’t.

Dream (And there is the exhale through his nose): Fine.

DT: Okay. I’d like you to get comfortable in your chair…

Dream (I notice he moves around on his sitbones a bit): Your chairs are not very conducive to comfort.

DT (The chairs are actually very comfortable. He just decided they’re not comfortable for him because he doesn’t want them to be): Get as comfortable as possible then. (I notice some further shuffling, and when he finally settles, his legs are not crossed anymore. His arms, however, stay firmly crossed in front of his chest). If it’s comfortable for you, close your eyes.

Dream: What if it is not?

DT: In that case, keep them open. (I notice he keeps on staring at me, so I decide to just proceed): I’d like you to bring up a kitten playing with a ball of yarn in your mind.

Dream (He actually snorts. I am briefly confused at the unexpected display of amusement. He blinks slowly.): Really?

DT (I mirror his blink): Really.

Dream (He unexpectedly closes his eyes. A brief silence ensues): I can see it. The kitten's existential crisis is palpable.

DT: What else do you sense or feel?

Dream (I notice he opens his eyes and just stares at me. Again…) I feel nothing. Perhaps the kitten should consider therapy, not I.

DT (I decide to call things by their name): What do you think makes you avoid being vulnerable? Around anyone, but specifically around me? (He looks at the paperweight on my desk. I ignore it. The silence lasts for three minutes.) You don’t have to be here if you prefer not to, but you are taking these sessions for a reason. Can you verbalise that reason for me again? (I notice he mumbles something indistinguishable while looking at his boots.) Pardon?

Dream (He looks out the window, clearly avoiding eye-contact, and raises his voice ever so slightly.) I feel uninspired.

DT (I withstand the temptation to point out that he just admitted he feels): And would you like any type of support with feeling more inspired again, or do you think you will be able to solve the issue yourself?

Dream (He looks at me again. Barely. With a dipped chin and through his lashes.): I might appreciate your… expertise.

DT: The delusional one?

Dream (I notice he smiles. A small smile, but it is the first one that is clearly identifiable as such): That, too.

DT: Okay, then let’s keep going and dig a bit deeper. Without deflection and changing the topic—do you think you can do that?

Dream (I notice the smile disappears): I might try.

DT (I nod towards the paperweight): Can you try to pick it up? (He picks it up hesitantly.) No, I said, “Can you try to pick it up.” (He puts it down again and looks confused.) Try again. (He lifts it once more and holds on to it this time.) So did you try, or did you pick it up?

Dream (I notice his eyebrows are knotted so tightly I start to feel sorry for him.): I picked it up?

DT: Right. There is doing or not doing. There is no “trying”. You do something, or you don’t. You trust me or you don’t. Both is fine. You do it, or you don’t. You stop to deflect to get out of discomfort, or you don’t. You pick up the paperweight, or you don’t. It’s always your choice, but it’s a choice you make.

Dream (I notice he stares at me, then the paperweight): I… chose to pick up the weight, and I shall hold on to it for a while.

DT: Good. Let's keep going then. Tell me about your relationships.

Dream (I notice his eyes darting at me quicker than the speed of light. I also notice the paperweight moves in his hands. The silence lasts for seven minutes. He holds on to the paperweight very tightly for a moment and then begins to speak): I had relationships of a romantic nature. To hold on to them has proven to be impossible.

DT: Any idea as to why?

Dream (I notice his voice is very quiet): Because my… feelings (he looks at me briefly before he turns his attention to the paperweight again) are complicated, and they tend to scatter like cosmic dust.

DT: I’ve noticed you like to speak in metaphor…

Dream: As do you.

DT: Do I?

Dream: Sometimes.

DT: And does speaking like that, or being spoken to that way, make things easier for you?

Dream: Yes and no.

DT: Explain the no.

Dream: Perhaps I… would appreciate a more direct approach. But it makes me uncomfortable nonetheless.

DT: Discomfort isn’t always a bad thing. If you stay comfortable all the time, nothing changes.

Dream (I notice a sound not unlike a wince): I do not change.

DT: I am aware I asked this before, but why are you here then?

Dream (I notice he turns the paperweight in his hands): Because I feel like the kitten.

DT (I need a hot second to remember): You feel you have an existential crisis?

Dream (He stays quiet for seven minutes again. I wonder if he is actually counting seconds in his head): I might have diversified into a certain sense of ennui. (I notice he smiles briefly, but it actually looks weary.)

DT: Any idea as to why that is? Or what might provide relief? (I notice he stares intently at the paperweight again) Why the paperweight?

Dream (He reflexively puts it back on my desk): It reminds me of things.

DT: Good memories or bad?

Dream: Perhaps both (I notice his eyes disengage, and he vacantly stares out the window again.)

DT: Is it something you wish to talk about?

Dream (He looks at me again): I trust our time is up?

DT: No. But if you feel the need to leave, that’s okay. I’d just like to encourage you to think about whether your ennui is as practised as your avoidance.

Dream (He gets up and looks down at me in a fairly disgruntled way): Perhaps you might reflect whether your persistence is annoying.

DT: Well, you’re not paying me to humour you, are you?

Dream (I notice he seems to think for a second, and inexplicably, his face lightens up. If that’s possible at all, because his expressions hover on the micro-spectrum): Perhaps you do humour me. (I wonder if he is actually smiling again or just looks mildly pissed off.)

DT: I suggest I might be the wrong person if you are looking for entertainment. But if you are committed enough to this, I will use ink in my diary again and see you next week. Same time.

Dream (I notice he definitely smiles this time): If the universe doesn't implode by then. (The smile vanishes as quickly as it has appeared, and I am left mildly concerned he might actually believe that’s a possibility.)

After he has left, I begin to write down further notes. Something catches my eye. It looks like sparkly dust suspended in mid-air. I have a lot of questions…

< Previous Session

Next Session >

[seiya234]

the haunting of ian beale, 2/?

uh this one got long lol. part one here.

---

Ian looked around him.

He looked at who was next to him, and what he was wearing and sighed deeply.

"Well, it's not the Symbolism Room at least."

Henry nodded. "It's the Symbolism Beach, which will obviously be better."

"Was that a joke?"

"Rest assured, I do not engage in any type of jokes, frivolity, japes or shenanigans."

"Well as long as that's settled."

The beach was... endless, sand in all directions on either side of him, water in front of him. Ian didn't look behind him; something inside told him that he wouldn't like it. Normally that would have had him immediately looking from sheer spite but his gut was telling him

he would see Nothing

truly, Nothing.

could he handle seeing Nothing? no, okay, let's move on then because

this chair was very comfortable.

Henry and Ian were in Adirondack chairs, and Ian knew it wasn't his mind supplying he beach because he had never heard that term in his life. Thankfully, something knew him well enough to pair his swim trunks with a shirt and sun hat.... though considering his trunks were covered in yellow triangles, and his shirt had a Radical Dude Doing Sik Sk8 Trix on it, he was still clearly being fucked with.

Henry, Ian was bemused to see, was still in his weird pre-Transcendence 'preacher' outfit, though tonight at least he had short sleeves on.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Ian looked out at crashing waves, water so dark as appear to black, a blue cloudless sky. It felt... calming. Meditative. The waves were just enough to provide sound, but not so violent as to actually disturb the sense of calm tranquility.

His brain, Ian realized, was quiet.

Quiet in that every time he felt the panic rise, it felt like a big fist came to kindly push on his chest until he settled down.

He should probably be worried about that but

oh. hey. A fruity tropical drink in his hand. Convenient, that.

"What brings you here this time?" Ian asked. "I"m not sure how many after school specials I can handle."

Henry frowned a bit. "I'm not entirely sure myself. Quite frankly I'm amazed I'm here spea-"

Henry disappeared. Ian took the opportunity to will his drink from a virgin pina colada to a margarita.

He looked out at the ocean.

He didn't look behind him.

"My apologies." Henry was still the same, though his glass had now turned into a mug that read 'World's Best Grandpa.'

"Not exactly fun being constantly in the midst of an existential crisis, I get it."

Henry looked around him. "This... this is my daughter's beach."

The mindscape of someone dead a thousand years. But

"You seem... relatively calm, about that," Ian finally ventured.

"You mean, as compared to Alcor?" Ian must have pulled a face, because Henry let out a bittersweet little laugh.

"No. I am sad my daughter is gone. But I am happy knowing since then she has had a hundred different life times to experience joy-"

"-and pain-"

"-and that too but one is not outweighed by the other. It just is. We see each other in-"

Henry kept talking but for a minute all that came out was radio static. Ian had a feeling that even if Bill or Alcor were here, they too would only hear that static as well.

"-also, with all due respect for my brother, it has been a millennium. Everyone and everything involved has moved on."

"But not him," said Ian with full disrespect.

"No." Henry took a drink and adjusted his visor. "in a way, I pity him, deeply. I think he will forever be locked in the trauma of losing everyone and everything he knows. There is a part of him that cannot change, cannot move on, and he knows it."

"Okay, but that's bullshit though?" and oh, was he mad? Okay, he was not only mad, but pretty mad, even with the chest pushing blanket on him.

"I'm sorry, but a thousand years, and nothing has changed? Seriously? Also have we forgotten that vampires also can live a very long time, or dragons, and I don't see them doing... doing-"

Ian waved a hand to indicate everything Alcor had done, ever.

"Vampires don't have infinitely expanding and growing power at their beck and call."

"And that makes a difference how?" Man the combination dreamarita, dream beta blocker, and the constant rage that bubbled under his skin was actually a really good combo, the words were flowing but the heart rate was not accelerating, 12/10 feeling.

"My life, Mira's life... they're different because Alcor is in them- and not always for the better."

"Bill might have happened anyway."

"Point. But would I be missing an eye, would-"

Ian stopped, because he didn't want to tell Henry about the pain, the sadness, the absolutely tremendous amount of stress on all of them, because the preteen with the power of a god decided to come into their lives and play with them like dolls.

He didn't deserve that truth, yet.

Everything was silent for a minute, save for the breaking of the waves and the cry of the gulls.

Finally, Henry managed to say, "I think, I am a little upset to hear you say that. But if I put my emotions aside for a second, I do not think you are entirely wrong, either."

Ian was still. He had seen Henry crush the plastic armrests under his hands, caught the hot iron tang of blood in his nose and a flash of meat in the antlers.

"Has he told you, about my children? His nieces and nephew?"

"No. He hasn't? I'm... sorry?"

For a minute, Henry disappeared. But this time it felt like it was because he chose to do so himself.

Henry blipped back in, now also holding a dreamarita. "My apologies. I did not realize how that would affect me. And I did not hold space for your extremely valid criticisms."

Looking at him, Ian felt a wash of pity come on him. What was it like- no, what had to have happened that even a thousand years later you felt the need to exert that level of control over oneself?

"Anyway," Henry went on. "We had triplets- Acacia, Hank, Willow. They were our everything. Alcor was their fourth parent." The math must clearly have not been mathing on Ian's face because Henry added "We also had my father-in-law with us. No but... I don't regret having Alcor with us, having Alcor raise the kids. He loved them, more than anyone or anything else-"

"-except Mizar."

Henry looked like he bit a lemon.

"Yes. Well. My point is, I don't regret it but thinking about it... we were all affected in some way, letting a demon into our homes, into our bed. And... it wasn't always all good." Henry paused. "But it wasn't all bad, either."

Ian thought about it, really, truly thought about it for a minute.

"It's not all bad," he finally agreed. "But he seriously needs to fix his shit."

"I'll have a talk with him-" Henry's hands and feet blipped, appeared quickly hanging from his antlers, then appeared back where they should be. "Or I'll try to anyway."

They drank their drinks. At some point, a goat wandered onto the beach.

Ian still didn't feel tempted to look back behind him. It felt like being fourteen. It wasn't a good feeling and oh, the calm down hand was pushing him down again-neat!

"I am a little embarrassed that I am just now having this realization," Henry said as he began his second dreamarita. "It feels like something I should have recognized a long time ago."

Ian was now three dreamaritas in and beginning to see 5-D colors. "I wouldn't sweat it, it's probably because your consciousness was violently ripped apart and the resulting energy used to power a demon and now the million fragments of your soul are slowly beginning to piece themselves together and wait, how do I know this?"

"You know the answer."

"Ugh. Him."

"But you are probably correct."

"Orrrrrr, and just throwing this out there- none of this could be real and it's simply my brain trying to process the absolute shitshow of the last few years."

"Perhaps. I know that I, personally, do not feel very 'real' right now, which is also very disconcerting."

They sat. They drank their drinks. The goat was eating a seagull, an image that Ian was almost going to immediately throw on a storyboard for the next episode when he woke up.

"Why are you here? Doing this?" Ian finally asked.

"I don't have anything else better to do. Dipper won't listen to me."

Ian was not going to touch that with a ten foot pole but he went on. "That's not your vibe, that's what assholes like me say."

"I am trying to be witty, but that has never been my strong suit."

Which was why Ian wasn't going to point out that that had been nowhere near wit but-

"-I thought you could use someone to talk to, about all of this."

"Okay, but we already had this conversation and I am pretty sure you are not a licensed therapist."

"Very much not; I was a librarian."

"That tracks."

"So no, I am not a therapist. I certainly can't 'fix' you, nor do I have any intent on doing so."

That flare of anger again. "Okay, but my life would be considerably easier if my brain wasn't constantly trying to crash into the ocean and explode, so I'd rather like some fixing, thank you very much."

Henry held his hands up in supplication. "My apologies, I was trying to go for more 'we are defined by our life experiences.'" He looked down. I'm not always the best with.. talking to people. Understanding them. That was all-"

"Mira." Unbidden, her name out of his mouth.

"Her."

On Henry's arms, Ian could see dozens of little round scars, up and down. His hands clasped his mug, and Ian could see that two or three of his fingers were crooked.

Ian had a feeling why Henry had a hard time with people. It wasn't a good feeling.

"But look. One good talk won't fix everything forever. I think you could use someone to talk to about this a little more regularly. I don't know all of what you've been through, our experiences aren't a one to one comparison but, I get it. Really. And I know in retrospect, I should have talked to someone myself."

"Wait. I'm sorry, you didn't have a therapist? Or anything?"

It was disconcerting to see a middle aged man who could instantly obtain and wear the mantle of Death blush beet red.

Ian could see where this was going. "Henry did you ever talk to your wife about any of this?"

"A... a tiny bit, I think. I hope. But, I think I didn't want to burden her... which in and of itself created a burden on her. I trusted her, more than anything else in the world, but I... I couldn't talk to her."

Henry looked down at the drink in his hands. "It was always so much easier to talk here, than it was in the real world."

Control.

Ian thought about the control it took to keep the anger at bay, keep the temper cool, keep everything inside, at all times.

Control, that was more akin to a prison.

Aloud though, all Ian said was "Oof," because honestly he wasn't sure how to handle this level of honesty from a guy he was only talking to for the second time ever, also who was super dead.

"My apologies, I know that was a lot of- as my kids used to say- 'oversharing.' But I just dont want you to make the same mistakes I did."

A chill trickled down Ian's spine. "Um, I'm actually emotionally available and talk to my fiance like a real person, thank you very much. To say nothing of the multiple therapists I am currently seeing."

Henry ignored Ian's barbs and went on. "I know you talk to Mira-"

"How-"

"I can see inside you," Henry said, nonchalantly.

Not even magic airborne anxiety medicine would keep Ian's heart from immediately jackhammering in his chest, stop his temper from instantly snapping like a twig."

Ian's voice was low. "I am sick and TIRED of people, especially people I don't know, RUMMAGING inside of my head."

Henry was flushing but this time there were stormclouds in his face, which tough shit.

"It all comes down to BILL, always and forever, and apparently that's a legitimate reason to invade my privacy? In the most violating way possible?"

"That was certainly not my intention, could I please explain?"

Ian was standing up now, albeit wobbly because those dreamaritas were hitting hard, and looked out to the ocean beyond. He resisted the urge to dump a devastating one liner and began to wade out into the ocean. He'd just swim until he woke up, and then put "learn how to lucid dream" on his calendar so he could peace out right away next time this happened.

"Wait, Ian you should not go out in that water-"

Ian flipped him the bird and kept going.

"No, seriously, I think that's a rip tide-"

Suddenly, it felt like two hands grabbed Ian's ankles and pulled and now he was flying through the water, further and further from shore. He tried swimming sideways, but the not-hands on his ankles held on tighter and pulled him under."

It was a dream so obviously, Ian didn't need to breathe.

But

Everything around him was wine dark and suffocating. Underneath his feet was tens of thousand of feet of water and more than that was a deep crushing M A W, a great big stingray's mouth that sought out pray and sucked it in to crush it between it's two great grinding plates and he was drawing closer and closer and

Something else wrapped around his waist. Something... wood? It wrapped and it Pulled

And the maw and the wine dark sea and the bird eating goat and the beach were gone, all gone, and it was just him, and Henry, in a blank white space.

"I'm sorry, I tried to take you to my space but-"

For a second, everything flickered around Ian and he was in a forest but flicker again and it was the blank white room.

"-but I think that part of me is gone, right now."

"So. Thank you for saving me, but counterpoint, what the fuck was that murder beach?"

"I did not realize that her beach had.. not quite gotten a mind of its own. Say was akin to a machine left on way too long, running the same processes until it burns out-"

"And those processes are?"

"Eradicate intruders by destroying them, and dispersing their energy."

"And," Ian said after a long minute, "that was your daughter's mind."

"She was going through some things." Henry paused. "In retrospect, quite a lot of things."

Ian sat down, and Henry next to him.

"I don't- it's not on purpose, I promise."

Ian sighed. "I had a feeling. Honestly, you don't give off that kind of vibe. It's just-"

"You've been violated. Several times." There was an edge to Henry's voice and for a second the air around him smelt of blood and pine and wait, was he getting mad on Ian's behalf? Oh, that was... unexpected. But cool, thanks!

Henry closed his eyes, took a breath, and the air cleared. "I want to let you know I am not reading your mind-"

"Oh my stars, is that one theory that souls just watch the living like TV true? Because I got to tell you, I am deeply not sure how I feel about that existentially."

"No. I mean, kind of but-" radio static, again.

"I didn't catch any of that but I'm guessing no one is watching grandma go to the bathroom from the afterlife."

Henry shuddered. "Absolutely not. I can just..." He paused, clearly trying to think of a way to phrase it so that mortals could understand. Finally, he just reached out and gently tapped Ian's chest.

"I see that."

"Are you telling me you can see my heart? Because that is unimaginably corny."

"I can see that you are a good man, who loves and is loved in return."

For once, Ian had nothing to say.

The room began to dim, and Henry looked around. "I think you're starting to wake up."

"Oh, uh... okay."

There was an awkward pause, but finally, Ian extended an olive branch. "It feels like you still have more to say."

"I do."

"Then, I guess I'll see you around."

----

A pillow smacked into his face.

"Dude, why are you groaning so much?"

"Love you too, starshine."

"Seriously though, you practically woke yourself up. Weird dreams?"

Ian's brow crinkled. He couldn't remember anything but-

"Did I drink last night?"

"Um, unless you managed to do it in the 2 minutes we were apart before bed, no?"

"Huh. It's weird but I feel... hungover?"

[oumaheroes]

Congrats on 1000 followers!! If you're still taking requests, I'd go absolutely feral for some of your scotfra! I love how you write modern nationverse with where characters reminisce or philosophise about the past <33

Phi I... I strayed. Okay, I strayed way off topic because this came to me so clearly that I couldn't not write it. I hope that you like it, even though there is no nationverse philosophying ;u;

Characters: Scotland, France (ScotFra)

-------------------------------------------

Starscape

Their home hits him with unexpected force as soon as he opens the door, the brass handle cool against bare palm. The smell of their lives together, clean linen and cedar aftershave. Walls cluttered with photos, Alisdair’s large leather armchair in the corner, Francis’ collection of Vogues tucked neatly besides Alisdair’s nature books into a handmade bookcase- collected fragments of two lives turned into one. A busy, friendly, assault of the senses.

Francis is in the kitchen, warm yellow lights and background radio above the metallic clatter of their cutlery drawer.

Alisdair sloughs his coat off, drapes it over the sofa, and walks in to join him.

‘Hello there.’

Alisdair can hear Francis’ smile through the words as he hugs him tightly from behind where he is at the counter, chin to shoulder. His arms go around him to their places automatically, right hand to Francis’ left hip.

Francis tilts his head back and up to try and meet his eye, ‘Good day?’

‘It’ll do.’

Francis snorts and cups his cheek lazily with one hand, reaching to place an empty pan on the stove, ‘Better than nothing.’

‘How was yours?’ Alisdair is loath to let him go but Francis wiggles free, gently nudging him back and away to let him get on with things. Alisdair retreats to the table in the middle of the room and watches.

‘Oh, you know. Same old same old.’

‘Tell me.’

Francis gifts him with a raised eyebrow. He fills up a pot with water and sets it salted to boil. ‘Well,’ he says, ‘Do you remember that new woman from a few weeks ago?’

Alisdair casts far back in time to find the name Francis might be referring to and finds too many to filter. ‘I remember you telling me about her.’

Francis raises an eyebrow, ‘Tina.’

‘Ah. Tina.’ He had forgotten Tina.

‘I cannot understand what is driving her to-‘ Francis sighs and clicks his tongue, ‘I don’t want to judge, but-‘

Alisdair smiles, ‘Yes, you do.’

Francis waves a hand. ‘Yes, fine. I do. But still, I am aware it’s not my place to say older people can’t randomly move jobs out of nowhere, and obviously they can learn how to do something new, but it’s...’

He stops, ties his hair up, and Alisdair's smiles widens. ‘Some people are slow, and I understand. It’s irritating to train them but I understand. Everyone has their own pace, and all that. Christ, I sound like Arthur when he’s being his most pretentious.’

Alisdair wants to call his brother then and has to swallow the feeling away, eyes fixed on Francis to keep him focused.

Butter to pan, salt to onions. The smell in the air is sweet. Condensation softens the windows, fogs the dark shadows of their garden beyond the glass. Francis moves whilst he talks, stepping lightly from one task to another.

‘But she’s not just slow to train. She’s someone who keeps questioning things, rather than just learning them. “Why do it this way, that way is much better.” Or, “In my last position, we did X Y Z blah blah blah”. Horrible. Aggravating.’ Francis tips mushrooms into the pan and shakes his head, ‘Anyway. Today I found out that she didn’t just move to join the analyst team because she wanted some sort of end of career change or have a last-minute depressing existential crisis. She was asked to move down. Because she was terrible at her job.’

Francis grins at him, his smile sharp teethed and wicked, ‘No wonder she’s so picky with everything. I got the feeling that she thought that we and what we do were beneath her but now-‘

Alisdair cuts him off before he can finish. Away from the table before Francis can stop him, he presses his mouth to Francis’, then to his cheek. Cups the back of his head in his hand, kisses his neck and feels the beat of Francis’ heart jump his pulse strong against his lips.

‘Stop it.’ Francis swats at him but the gesture is half-hearted at best, ‘You’re going to make me burn dinner.’

Alisdair kisses him again, Francis’ long hair soft and undone in his hands. ‘I don’t care.’

‘I care.’

Francis never burns dinner. No matter how busy the day or how many tasks he’s doing at once, dinner is never something to be sacrificed as part of a greater good. No matter how hard Alisdair could have tried to force it, in their life burning dinner was not a thing that would ever have happened. Today is no different. Francis extracts himself just in time to save things and Alisdair lets him go, knowing he needs to in order for things to work as they should.

The taste, once Francis is done, is perfect- one of his best meals, in Alisdair’s opinion, a warm mushroom soup. Thick bread- not homemade, Francis laments, but good enough- lightly toasted and thickly buttered. Alisdair savours every bite, takes small spoonfuls to draw out the experience for as long as it can go.

After they’ve eaten, the cooking a perfect mixture of memory and longing, they retreat to the living room sofa to fall deadweight against the cushions.

‘That was too much food.’ Francis says where he sits against Alisdair’s chest, their legs together under blankets before them on the L-shaped bend. ‘We keep on eating portion sizes that are way more than we need.’

Alisdair disagrees entirely. He is slimmer now, of course, much slimmer, but Francis doesn’t seem to notice. He pats the meat of Francis’ thigh and then grips it tight, ‘We’re doing just fine.’

Francis rolls his eyes and tuts but Alisdair sees the smile in his eyes, ‘No, not that. I mean that it’s expensive.’

‘It’s doable.’

‘Not with the sheer amount of lamb that you’re eating.’

‘It’s my favourite.’

‘It’s the costliest of all of them.’ Francis smiles and reaches up an arm to play with the short hair at the nape of Alisdair’s neck, ‘This needs a cut.’

‘You said you wouldn’t cut my hair anymore.’ Alisdair reminds him. Francis’ hand is warm, so warm, and Alisdair closes his eyes. ‘You said I complain too much.’

‘You do.’

‘Only because you threatened to shave me.’

Francis laughs lightly, ‘It would suit you.’

‘Well. That's why I complained.’

Beep.

Alisdair opens his eyes.

‘Shall we watch something?’ Francis sits up for the remote on the coffee table.

‘Only if it’s not a period drama.’

Francis sighs, weary, ‘Emma is not just a period drama. I’m told it’s a brilliant film.’

Alisdair wrinkles his nose and then grins at the look Francis gives him, ‘I’m sure it is. But are you going to be able to sit there quietly and not bitch about the costume design?’

Francis blinks at him. ‘Yes,’ he says after a while, ‘Obviously.’

‘Fucking liar.’

‘I will! I won’t say anything.’

‘I’ll bet you a fucking tenner you won’t be able to stop yourself saying something.’

Francis glances at the TV, then back to him. ‘Fine,’ he says after a moment, ‘If it’s shit research, I won’t be able to help myself. But that doesn’t detract from it potentially being a very good film.’

‘Besides shit costuming.’

‘… So I’m told.’

‘But see, there you go.’ Alisdair leans forwards, ‘You’ll have a great time nonetheless but I won’t be able to focus on anything because-‘

Beep.

Alisdair wavers, ‘…because I’ll have you going off making comments all the time and I’ll forget what’s happening and-‘

Francis looks scandalised, ‘You don’t know the story anyway?’

‘Why the fuck would I know the story?’

‘Oh for the love of-‘ Beep. ‘We have to watch it. That’s it, I can’t have this.’ Francis clicks on the TV and scrolls to Netflix, ‘What on earth was your mother thinking. You’d think with the amount Arthur goes on-‘

‘Arthur was the weird one. I-‘

Beep.

Alisdair feels a tightness in his chest. He tries not to think of the cause.

Francis turns to him. ‘What?’

Alisdair’s tongue feels heavy, throat tight. ‘What.’

‘You were saying?’ Francis prompts. ‘Something about you and Arthur.’

His hair is tucked behind on ear but strands have fallen free. Alisdair wants to reach forward and brush them back but he can’t move. He feels hollow, belly empty.

He takes a deep, long breath in. His lungs fill, then release. Under his fingers, he feels the whorls of the sofa upholstery on the arm rest. Feels the warmth of Francis near his outstretched leg, face buttery yellow in the lamplight by the wall. It is all so real.

‘Right.’ He runs a hand over his face, ‘Arthur was the one who read all the books. I was a normal child and young man, and went outside. Made friends.’

‘I read those same books.’ Francis presses a hand to his chest, ‘And I feel I came out quite normal from the experience.’

‘I wouldn’t quite say that.’

Francis nods, sagely, and tilts his head to one side. ‘You’re not entirely wrong. I’m with you, after all.’

Alisdair nudges him with his foot, in the softness of his stomach, and Francis laughs.

Beep. Oxygen levels critically low. Warning.

Alisdair should have turned the alarms off.

Francis settles back against him and Alisdair leans back against the sofa, tucking them back in as he goes and wraps his arms around Francis, hold him tight. Here, like this, it would be so easy to forget. To think that this was happening, and was still something he could have and return to. Francis is so solid, so real.

Beep.

But Alisdair cannot forget. Thousands of miles above earth, his body free from gravity, he watched as without warning mushroom clouds peppered through the skies below him. Rushes of clouds shot across oceans to collide with another wave, and then another, until the planet fell still.

The silence was loud. Space pressed in against the glass, a thick, dark nothingness that stretched on and outwards around him. Endless stars dull when there is no one waiting to share them with, Alisdair has found.

He still has no idea what happened. Whether it was planned, who started it, who could be left. He waited weeks for something, endless days on a knife’s edge by the comms system, unable to leave in case something came through or his planned replacement arrive to relieve him. Sleep in broken chunks, too tired to stay away any longer.

He doesn’t know now how long it has been. He stopped checking the days. There was nothing that could be done for him, anyhow. What good is it to know details of his final days, when the grand fact was that no one was coming. He lived because he was too scared to die, and that was that.

And now, here it is.

Warning.

Alisdair had remembered to override the auto-safety control that diverted power to essential systems, at least. That was the important part.

Warning.

It could warn him all it wanted; he wasn’t going to change anything.

Oxygen levels critically low.

A few more days with the bare essentials to sustain life, or this. One last go at the hollo-systems, one last story to play.

Warning. Oxygen levels critically low.

Alisdair had been holding back on playing this one. Eking out the power left on his ship for as long as he could, everything non-essential closed off to- why? To live? To remember?

Just in case, maybe. Just in case.

In his arms, the programmed memory of Francis shifts under the blankets and sighs through his nose. The film has started, Alisdair hadn’t noticed. The colours and sounds all curl and bleed together, flashes of something distinct stand out before falling away like a motion blur. Francis breathes in Alisdair’s arms, his face calm and easy, and Alisdair watches.

Beep.

This is how he wants to go.

Beep.

To go home to a life that only he can remember. Kept safe here in memories and code, a final goodbye.

‘I love you,’ he says. His voice cracks, ‘So, so much.’

Francis turns his head. He reads something in Alisdair’s face; Alisdair sees the flicker in his expression as he notes that something is wrong. But memory and code can only go so far, the real Francis would never have seen him like this before. Alisdair doesn’t know how he would have reacted. Whatever his husband’s virtual echo sees in Alisdair’s drawn, wasted face, it is not something that he was designed to see.

So, he smiles. Sees him as whole. ‘I love you too.’

The living room darkens, shadows fill the edges. Alisdair closes his eyes and buries his face in Francis’ shoulder. ‘I’ll be home soon.’

Francis turns slightly and wraps and arm around and under Alisdair’s back, ‘I’ll be waiting.’

[mimikyu-oli]

William got the bright idea to use Faz-goo to heal his youngest son's head trauma. 🙂

It's pretty instant and Michael is none the wiser.

The boy only have a faded scar on his face but no actual damages.

MCI happen and Michael's protectiveness is kicking.

And then, Elizabeth disapear and he start to freak out when his brother isn't in sight.

It takes some times (and support from Jeremy), but he get through it.

The bite of 87 happen.

William is like "Good ridance! One less pest to deal with!".

But then he saw the look of devastation on Michael and the father instinct kick.

William: Well, if it worked the first time.

---

These goo-entities genuinely think they are the original person.

They don't know they are clones.

Until Circus Baby Entertainment and Rental.

Then it's a literal existential crisis happening.

Michael: Evan is goo!

Jeremy is goo!

Does everyone I know are goo!?

Michael: Am I goo TOO!?

👁_👁

---

Existential crisis power 3.

Supprisingly, Evan is the one who is the less affected.

Or more like he shows it less, but he's still upset about it and doesn't want to burden his brothers when they are clearly overwhelmed by it.

Meanwhile, William, since day one, is:

Stage 1) This is the "What makes someone a person?" and "Is it still the same?" dilemma.

Stage 2) This is not my son.

This is just a replic of him.

Stage 3) My oldest love a bunch of goo. What a weird one.

I'm going to go away from him.

He's old enough to deal with his problems and his goo pet.

Stage 4) Bloody hell! My son love a dying man.

I'm going to do him a favor.

But he's also:

Look! Evan!

Your brother replaced you.

Look how nice he is to it.

Do you feel... angry?

Betrayed?

(He is talking to a gooeyfied Evan possessing a little animatronic bear.)

Evan is feeling self-deprecating.

William: Shite.

My son is pathetic.

---

[It's the idea of the person and the goo are exchanging places. And William, knowing it because of all his experimentations on rats (and Evan is the first human guinea pig.), takes the goo and put it in some kind of jar/core he put in the bear. (Same concept as in spirit possessing things but with goo. And it's like putting a battery in a toy.)

Although, I don't know what he does with Jeremy yet. 🤔 (He's not throwing him away.)]

---

So yeah, Michael is in a state of "they are not them, but they also are."

It's a bit easier with his brother since years has pass, but with Jeremy...

Well, it's either a year or a few months since the bite for him.

---

Michael and Jiji: 18 in 1987.

Evan: 5 years younger. 13 in 1987.

AND THEY ARE ROOMATES!!!!

---

Evan (Or Goo-Evan) see Jeremy as an older brother.

It's kind of ironic after the later is switched and then discover it.

No one knows what to think nor understand after that happen.

---

Goo-Jeremy wake up while William was collecting the gooeyfied Jiji and asked himself "What is Dave doing here?".

He pretends to be asleep until the man is out of the room.

Some times later (around a few months to a year or two), Michael goes in Circus Baby Entertainment and Rental and find some files he brings with him. (Since he has peoples waiting for him at home, he goes right instead of left. And spend a joyfull night with Ennard.)

---

Reaction of the reveal:

Jeremy: Panic attack caused by an heavy existential chrisis and the fear of being left by Michael.

Michael: He's dealing with the same dilemma as his father in 83 and trying to calm down Jiji. (With a sprinkle of existancial chrisis too.)

Evan: Frozen in place while staring at the situation happening right in front of him.

[destinygoldenstar]

Ninjago Dragons Rising Season 2 - Is It Good Or Nah?

So, I'm late to the party, aren't I?

Well I've had so much work that I think I'm having an existential crisis. So I had to wait till I had a free day to watch this season because I wanted to watch it with my GF.

We got to Episode 6, and then what did my boss do?

Slap me in the face with long work hours several days of the week.

I feel like I'm in a spiral of work after work after work with no purpose to life besides failure cause I can't trust myself to be capable at anything-

ANYWAY. We finished it now.

You know what the insane part about the season is? That it got the show trending on Tumblr.

That's an INSANE level of hype right there.

So I seriously had to ask myself "What the actual f**k happened in the show that caused THIS much hype?!"

So... here are my thoughts on the season.

SPOILER WARNING

Okay, so this may be a factor of my judgement, but due to my schedule, I was forced to watch only 6 Episodes one day, and then the last 4 Episodes today. Keep that in mind.

When it came to the first half of the season, was it good?

Yes. Obviously.

Was it living up to the insane level of hype?

Uh... not really for me??

Now, don't take that as a negative. This season is still REALLY good.

After the first season took awhile to get started as it needed to set up its characters and this new world, it makes sense for this season to throw the punches immediately.

The season gets started with its main plot right away with Ras immediately putting his plan into action, and by Episode 2, it's very clear the threat level he opposes and it's believable that we should be intimidated by what he wants.

Even though in Episode 2's fight, while AMAZINGLY choreographed, I was just screaming at the screen "HIT THE PERSON HOLDING THE GONG."

Like seriously, more than one of the characters in this fight can use projectiles with their powers AND they have a blaster in the Bounty, and the show never says that Ras has some sort of armor defense preventing him from getting blasted. He's literally standing out in the open. And the gong is clearly what's giving Cinder power. So HIT THE PERSON WITH THE GONG.

GOSH.

Anyway, that's not important. What's important is that this season's fight choreo is genuinely AMAZING. I am obsessed with the way the camera moves with the characters in these fights you have no idea. I was genuinely blown away by the last episode's fight in particular. But more on the ending later.

What also shocked me was how BRUTAL some of the stuff that happens here is, which caught me off guard.

I mean, Episode 2 has Euphrasia getting ambushed and crashed off the Cloud Kingdom with clear injuries, and Wyldfyre getting her leg SHATTERED. Like, WHAT?! HOW OFTEN DOES THAT HAPPEN?!! (Even though the latter's healing was unrealistic. Like, it would realistically take months for an injury like that to heal. Not a critique, just saying.)

Ras body slams Jordanna at one point. He puts Arin in a CHOKEHOLD. And also beats him up so brutally... like OMG this guy does not mess around.

The Fear Cave Trial also REALLY got me tripping. Not only was it such a visually appealing moment, but it also, as the same suggests, showed several character psyches that were insane.

Except Kai for some reason. That's gonna drive me NUTS until I get an answer. WHAT DID HE SEE-?!

Then we get to the dragon mentors, and...

Yeah the season kinda loses me in the middle.

Don't get me wrong, I love the character bits here as much as anyone. But with how dyer they made the threat of Ras before, Ras and his forces take a backseat in the middle portion of the season and we're mostly just sitting at these training grounds talking. And for four episodes of it? It's a little grating, even if it is important.

The middle is mostly where most of my issues with the season stand. And here's where I get all my negatives out of the way:

Like I said, because this season is so long, there's an awkward pause in the conflict on the dragons plotline to learn this Rising Dragon Technique. Which I wouldn't mind if it wasn't FOUR EPISODES of it.

With the exception of the attack at the Land of Lost Things ONCE, Ras's army doesn't go after the ninja at all. I can kinda get the dragons group since they didn't have Bonzle, but he has to know that they ARE a threat, right? They're obviously trying to figure out how to stop you.

And even with the group that has Bonzle, what they NEED, the forces that go after that group is the Administration and the one off magician man villain, the former really didn't need to be in this season even if it was for a compelling Jay cameo, and the latter has overstayed his welcome at this point and I just rolled my eyes when he showed up on screen.

I'm all for Cole being a badass as much as the next guy, but WHY this magician man, who at this point, is so disconnected with the main antagonistic forces that he serves no purpose?

Why not, I don't know, use this screen time instead to explain what in the world happened with Cole when he left?

Seriously, the first season had this huge cliffhanger with Cole's character and him going after Wu's ghost. I wonder what's gonna happen to him and what he's gonna find out-

Oh. He's just back.

That to me is a huge disappointment. What was the point of him leaving the Lost Family in the first place if this journey was basically nothing? He doesn't even talk about it! COME ON NOW.

Also I think Zane should get slay pass on the Administration guy that called him equipment. What do y'all think?

I don't like Egot. Or whatever his name was. He's very condescending and cryptic and talks down to his only hope of the world being saved. But I think I'm supposed to dislike him for it, and there's gonna be more of his characterization revealed later, so don't take this one as a critique. The female one is great though.

The sorceress lady was... a choice in the narrative. My one critique for the ending was the potion shenanigans. Not because they were bad, but because they just felt so out of place among everything else. Like, "Oh, this finale is too dark and intense! We need to occasionally cut to wacky shenanigans with this sorceress's magic to prevent kids from feeling too much dread!"

I don't know, for me, I would've placed this stuff with the Administration instead, and instead have the group fight Jordanna, lose, and have her get away and flow that to Arin getting to her. Especially since the Administration posed such little threat to them and they even say such.

(I also have a theory that this sorceress is Wyldfyre's birth mom. I have no evidence to back this up besides "They both have red hair and similar facial structure")

With Cloud Kingdom getting taken over and Euphrasia captured, I thought she would have more of a role to play in this since this is, you know, her HOME and she's their guardian.

But nope. She does next to nothing up until the very end and plays prisoner and waits for the ninja to save her.

For gosh sake girl, you're the master of wind. FLY.

And finally, my last critique, Cinder.

Yeah I'm sorry, I'm not buying this character so far. Not that I don't think he'll have anything to do in the second part, but for how threatening he was in Episode 2, that threat level kinda vanishes in the middle and only comes back at the end. He does next to nothing and we learn nothing about him other than "He likes power". Jordanna is probably more unlikeable, but at least she has conflict going on with Ras and her magic, and she still serves more of a role in the plan besides being a foot soldier.

And... yep. That's all my critiques for this season. Which all seem pretty minor.

You know what this season is real good at? Characters.

As though that wasn't obvious already.

I did NOT expect Bonzle to play any major role at all, I thought she was just gonna be the dry and cynical side character. But no. She has a history. She has a life. She has emotions. All of which REALLY shine through at the end when you hear her voice have more range in it. The VA killed it. I ended up feeling so bad for her.

Especially considering what happens to her.

They're also not even hiding it anymore with Geo x Cole. They're just NOT. I love them and I hope we see more of their relationship in the future.

I genuinely don't understand the critique of "Geo is so selfish referring to him as Cole's family when it's obvious Cole has other people in his life."

Well no shit, you ever heard of a character flaw?

But it's also a completely understandable flaw. You guys aren't forgetting the part where Geo was abandoned for being a mixed race, right? Of course he's gonna cling to someone as compassionate and encouraging as Cole.

The Jay cameo was nice. I expect him to play no role in this season, but it's really compelling what they showed and I was satisfied with it.

Lloyd's conflict was handled very well in my opinion.

What's it called when it's PTSD, but it's about future events rather than past events? Foresight Traumatic Stress Disorder? FTSD? Yeah let's go with that.

For a kids show that glosses over trauma, (That's not a Ninjago problem, that's a kids show problem), it was really refreshing for them to not do that for once. It's actually explored and talked about and Lloyd is given advice on how to cope with it, and he freezes up in panic attacks when these visions happen and-THANK YOU. THANK YOU FOR NOT IGNORING HOW HARD SOMETHING LIKE THIS IS.

Seriously, as someone who is going through stuff like this, minus the magic element, it spoke to me a lot. It really shows that this show grew up with me, and I both love and hate that.

I do think this sort of arc is going to hit hard for adults much more than kids.

Are kids constantly terrified of the future and getting paralyzed with these fears and finding it difficult to cope with the traumas that is time and human life?

No?

Kai is also a standout in this, especially towards the end. This is by far the best Kai has been in a long time in terms of quality. I love how one of his most significant flaws gets addressed here, that being his overreliance on himself and his own abilities over the others, who he feels responsible to protect.

And the way he grasps with that and learns to let loose like he did as a child back in the old days through what he loves the most, that being his family. And the flashbacks with him and his sister. And the whole sequence of him learning Rising Dragon - AUGH ITS SO GOOD.

How poetic is it that the character most devoted to family since childhood is only cocky and angry because of his own desire to be the one with power to keep them safe, gets power by letting that go, being a kid again, and joining the same roots as his own family?

AND THEN HE GIVES UP HIS LIFE FOR THEM-

And finally, Arin.

Oh you poor sweet, sweet child.

First of all, yes, I am completely subscribed to the theory that the show is building up Arin turning on the ninja and becoming a villain. It's all there. It all fits. The amount of times they say how sweet he is as though that's gonna get lost. The dragons, the creators of the world, the gods basically, telling him he's not good enough. Ras confronting him. Sora's stunt even after she's been the most encouraging of him, like the BETRAYAL there. It's all there. And I will be posting my theory scenario on this don't you worry.

BUT, I don't think that's the route they're gonna go. Kids show and all of that. They wouldn't do that to one of their main characters. Unless you're Star Wars. At most I think Arin will be tempted by Ras's master's power in an episode and even do it, but then with the power of love and friendship, it'll get fixed.

So instead I'd rather say that Arin, by far, has the BEST power crisis arc of the entire show so far.

I LOVE that he doesn't get powers. That's something the original show would've done. I LOVE that he doesn't figure anything out in the end and his inner doubts get proven correct. That's something the original show would not have the guts to do.

I liked Arin in the first season, but he didn't interest me too much. Mostly because Sora had the lion share of focus in the first season. Here though? He might just take the crown for THE most relatable character. And I both love and hate it so much.

Like, seeing everyone else succeed in mastery while you can't even figure out your own thing. You get told you have a natural talent and a lot of potential and that you're good at a lot of things, only for that to be put to the test in the real world and you end up letting everyone down. Even when your loved ones encourage you that you are good enough and you're special in your own way, you can't get those voices out of your head and you mess up again and again and again to try and meet the world's expectations. Then those in charge tell you you're not good enough and wasted potential. Then you try everything out in the real world anyway and you FAIL, and those that doubt you and your own insecurities get proven correct as you're left a broken mess of a young child who doesn't know what the hell they're doing-

I'M IN THIS SHOW AND I DON'T LIKE IT.

I probably love Sora more as a character, but I will admit I grasp towards Arin more right now. Sora's a great trans allegory in a world that hates trans people. But I'm not trans so I relate to it a bit less. Arin's a great autistic allegory in a world that doesn't know how to help autistic people. And I am autistic so I relate to it more. That's just a me situation.

I am so invested in where Arin's story goes from here. Evil or not.

So yeah, the season was good, but didn't completely live up to the insane hype, which, to be fair, is a high bar.

UNTIL THE LAST FOUR EPISODES.

And then all of a sudden, I AM SHOCKED AND SHAKEN TO MY CORE.

These last four episodes are an absolute emotional roller coaster that left me shaking and screaming the whole time.

I actually SCREAMED at multiple occasions.

I actually screamed so many times watching this that I am now HOARSE.

THAT'S how hard it hit me.

The story goes from 0 to 100 the moment the Blood Moon shows up. Which was what the whole season was building up to. And it did NOT disappoint.

The race to try and protect Bonzle. The intense visions and paralysis Lloyd suffers from. Ras and the army coming back to the plot to be absolute powerhouses. The last episode of DREAD the entire time to desperately try to stop this ritual.

HUMAN SACRIFICES?! AM I WATCHING A KIDS SHOW RIGHT NOW?!?!

I was begging for Arin to succeed at getting Bonzle to safety, even though I knew he stood no chance against Ras. "Come on Arin! You got this!! YOU GOT THIS, SWEETIE!!"

And then Ras just goes to TOWN on the poor boy and taunts his utter failure, which HURTS SO BAD MAN.

The entire fight with the army, Cinder, and Ras. The destruction of the mechs which knocks them unconscious for a bit. Kai figuring out Rising Dragon again when his family gets put in danger. The way Nya avenges her brother afterwards.

When Bonzle was getting morphed back into spell form, BEGGING, I was begging too.

But they still do it!

And KAI?!?!

I couldn't even process what happened other than me screaming. From the moment Ras alluded to sacrificing Kai against his consent, I was screaming "NO. DON'T DO IT."

AND THEN THEY SACRIFICE HIM.

LIKE HOLY GOSH THIS FINALE DID NOT MESS AROUND.

I predicted a while back, in the first season actually, that Kai was gonna get sacrificed at some point. Who's laughing now? I DID NOT WANT TO BE RIGHT.

Like, usually in Ninjago the character would be willing to sacrifice themselves for the others. But here? This is without Kai's consent at all. Ras might as well have killed him right here.

It definitely felt that way with the way the others react and BEG for his safety. The way Nya avenges him.

And Kai giving up his shot at escape for the sake of his family? BRO. WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

It hurts even more when you realize that when the Merge happened, Lloyd was ALONE thinking only he survived. He only gained hope again because of his reunion with Kai. His beloved surrogate brother!

AND NOW HE'S GONE.

NYA AND LLOYD LOST THEIR BROTHER.

WYLDFYRE LOST HER SURROGATE FATHER.

THEY THINK HE'S BASICALLY DEAD.

BRO. THAT'S SOUL CRUSHING.

And then Sora?! Why you gotta betray Arin like that?!

The most encouraging friend towards Arin, the person who held onto hope and praises for him the most, betrays that hope and doesn't trust him enough to get the winning blow himself. Then LIES about it.

GIRL. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!

That's going to be SO compelling once that gets outed. Like, morally, that was messed up and she was definitely in the wrong, BUT it led to the best possible outcome for them at the moment. They WON because she did NOT believe in Arin's abilities. Which only proves that the doubts about Arin's said abilities are correct.

And I have a gut feeling she's gonna learn Spinjitsu on top of that. And once that happens... double ouch.

Again, Evil Arin Theory.

I really hate to say it, but this reminds way too much of Arcane. If you know what I'm talking about.

I am totally imagining a situation similar to that in my head, that being a rescue mission for Kai, they decide to leave Arin out of it because of the lack of faith in him, he tags along anyway and he ruins their plan and Kai stays trapped there, Lloyd and Sora lash out on him for it, and before they can apologize they get thrusted back by something and Ras and Ras's master find Arin and take him in-

Again, I'll make a post about that.

The finale was by far the best part of this season. It has been a long time since Ninjago has made me HOARSE from being too invested.

That has not happened to me since Sons of Garmadon.

Because, yeah, I actually have NO IDEA where any of this is headed. How are they gonna save Kai and Bonzle? Why did some of Lloyd's visions not come true? What in the world is going on with Ras? Will the Administration help with that? Will the source dragons help with that?

What I probably do know is that Part 2 of this season is going to turn this into the best Ninjago Product since Tournament of Elements. Maybe even top it depending on my rewatches if my problems are still problems.

So... yeah. Good or Nah? Good. Obviously.

The hype is a little overblown to me, but it still deserves the hype.