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retrieve-the-kraken · 2 years ago

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Young Royals Season 2 play-by-play analysis

The last episode, the climax to the conflict, the conclusion to this arc, the start of the revolution… it’s so dramatic, so tense and so satisfying.

(Ugh, why does it take me so long to find the gifs I want... Why can't I always find the absolute perfect gifs when I want them and I know they exist...)

Brace yourselves, because this analysis is LOOOONG. I can’t stop the thoughts, sorry. Too many moments, too many unspoken things that speak volumes…

EPISODE 6

The boys have been together for hours now, in their little bubble. As far as we know, there have been no food or bathroom breaks…? Just the two of them, making the most of every second together, just loving each other one last time… Then morning comes and the bubble bursts. Simon has to do the right thing, he knows that there’s a big chance that nothing will come off it, but he has to try. Even if it means that August won’t be next in line to the throne, which at least would be a giant blow for August, but an equally big one for Wille… but Simon has to try, he can’t just not do anything, he has to get some form of justice… and whatever happens after that they will deal with it together, hopefully.

So after hours of loving and being loved, Wille looks resigned again, watching as Simon gets dressed. He asks if he’s going there now, to the police station. Does it have to be now? Can’t we have more time together. Simon is heading to the police later, but he has to break up with Marcus first, once and for all. He hesitates before kneeling down next to the bed. If he doesn’t go now, he might lose his nerve. That forehead kiss, it’s so sweet, like he’s saying that everything will be alright, somehow. Like he wants to reassure Wille that it’s not the end, that there’s still love. Just kill me…

August is having a mental breakdown. He knows he can’t get out of this one without help. He knows that maybe the Royal Court can help him sweep the whole matter under the rug… But what if they don’t? He’s not entirely in there yet, he’s not exactly in their good graces yet.

“August, we are counting on you to not give us any problems whatsoever.” You’re on thin ice, August. They forgave you one scandal, they won’t forgive another. “You represent the entire Royal Court now.” Already? It’s like they’re already counting on Wille to give up, and August to need to step up. Way to keep putting the pressure on kids, by the way. Although August is of age, he’s still a fucking kid. But he will be tried as an adult…

“It’s silly, I will take care of it myself,” August says. Then he turns to the person who also already has a vendetta against Wille and Simon…

Listen, my work has let me see people’s different styles of public-speaking. Everyone has a different style, and there are some people that are more natural at it than others, some people seem to have been born for it… and some people just don’t. (And even the people who seem to be natural at it require training, they’re not just born knowing how to do it, it’s just easier for them to get it). I don’t have public-speaking abilities, although I could develop them, but I’m an introvert, and so is Wille. It takes more work than that. It’s not just knowing what to say, because anyone can read words from a page; it’s the delivery, it’s the power behind the words, and it’s the ability to look into a crowd and not lose your nerve… And the fact that they’re forcing him to give a speech at such a young age, during an event of such magnitude, without even giving him some sort of training first, is fucking unfair and mental. They just expect him to be a natural at it. Like becoming the Crown Prince suddenly means that he should be able to. Nah, it doesn’t work like that. It’s not an app or a plugin that you suddenly get, it takes work, especially if you’re not a natural… Fuck the Royal Court and Kristina.

Simon ghosting Marcus, but then showing up. And Marcus being all sour, because he knows, he knows everything. “You haven’t replied in days”. Guess what, Marcus? It’s not really your business. You’re not his boyfriend, no matter how much you wanted to believe it.

“Not compared to a prince, at least.” Fuck you, Marcus, you snob, you don’t know Wille. Wille being a prince is not a plus, it has never been a plus, in fact it’s been the biggest obstacle between them… You’re making Simon sound like an elitist, and that shows how little you know about Simon.

“You only brought me to make him jealous.” Well, you got that part right, but also, he brought you to distract himself, he was trying to move on. He wanted to like you, somewhat... (guess he dodged a bullet there...)

“I told you that I wasn’t ready for a relationship but you haven’t been listening to me.” Yes, and that negates the “perfect” thing. Stop being nice and telling him that he’s perfect, Simon. He’s not. He’s a manipulative snob.

“So it’s my fault that you treated me like crap.” OH WHO’S PLAYING VICTIM NOW…

You, sir, you are the problem. Not even the main one, no. Just a problem in Simon's life. Stop being so annoying.

“You see yourself as some kind of victim among all those brats.” FUCK YOU MARCUS. He IS a victim, he’s an outsider among all the privilege kids, he’s at a disadvantage and constantly reminded of it. He IS a victim of the system, the system rigged in favor of privileged kids, rigged in favor of the Crown, the system that protects powerful people and keeps the cycle of silence and oppression going. And he IS a victim of sexual harassment perpetuated by one of the brats. You have no fucking idea, Marcus. DO NOT believe a word he said, Simon.

And Simon tried to make it right, he tried to apologize, and Marcus just made him feel terrible and accused him of things that weren't even true. Simon doesn’t deserve that.

I still think it's ironic that Rosh and Ayub were like "Ugh, Wille's so toxic, you should totally hook up with Marcus, have a rebound," and Marcus turned out to be the toxic one... I'm not saying that Wille or Simon are perfect, and I know that what Simon did to Marcus was not nice, to ghost him, to use him like that, even if he had made it clear to Marcus that they were not a thing. But Marcus was full of red flags; he is a snob who thinks himself better than the "rich brats" at Hillerska, and doesn't fail to point it out; he calls out Simon for his relationship with Wille by saying that the thing that Simon liked about him was that he was a prince, which is actually the opposite; he absolutely LIED about not watching the sex video, because of course he did and that's probably what sparked his interest and made him approach Simon now, after knowing about him for much longer (everyone in Bjärstad knows each other, and their mums are literally friends, wtf); he used what he knew from his mother about the Eriksson family to manipulate Simon into not breaking things off with him; and he's slightly older so technically there's a slight power dynamic there. And as a final blow he accuses Simon of pretending to be a victim and loving the drama... You know nothing, you jerk...

(It reminded me so much of when August and Felice dated, and August was jealous at Felice's closeness to Wille, then going on and kissing Sara... and of course there's that little "funny" thing he said about her when we first meet him and find out what kind of person he is, and what he thinks of women... Of course August is much worse, the worst in fact, but Marcus was unexpectedly a wolf disguised as a lamb...)

The palatset is decorated with blue and yellow streamers and balloons and Swedish flags and other party decor. There will be a party after the Jubilee.

August with his back turned to the door, like a classic villain…

I think there’s an expression or a proverb or something for wanting something so bad that you would do terrible things to obtain it. There was a Huffington Post opinion article that someone shared on here recently on how the people who want to have power are precisely the people who should have it, whilst the people who are most suited to be in power are the ones who don’t want it at all. Real, good leaders are collaborative, they like to help others shine, they are selfless, they sacrifice. Power-hungry people are easily corrupted by power or by the desire to obtain it… August is so power-hungry he will do anything for it, and yet he’s not aware of what he would have to sacrifice for it and when the time comes he’s just not going to; Sara wants so bad to be part of the elite that she’s willing to screw over her own brother, lie to her friends, join forces with the worst person. Meanwhile, Wilhelm cares so little about being Crown Prince, and Simon has never cared about Wille’s title. In fact, the Crown has been for them both more of a hindrance than a promise… In fact, the only time that Wille uses his title is to weaponize it against August, but it turns him into a pretty bad person; he uses his power to get revenge on August, but it shows an ugly side of him. However, it doesn’t last long, because he’s not a narcissist like August. Once he’s back to being himself, to the person who doesn’t want the title, then he once again becomes perfectly suited for it. Beyond the royal title, beyond the inherited nature of it, Wille’s a good leader, he’s just young and misguided at times. That’s why therapy is so helpful to him, to understand his emotions, to find that balance.

August says he knows that what he did was unforgivable, “But Erik would not have let Simon go to the police.” HOW DARE YOU BRING ERIK INTO THIS. You do not speak for the dead, August.

“So now it’s my responsibility too to protect the Royal Family.” You’re just as bad as the Queen, August. You fit right in.

As it has been pointed out, Alexander doesn’t really work as the scapegoat: the video was recorded when Alexander had already been caught with the drugs; and it makes no sense to pretend that he’d still be in possession of August’s phone when the video was leaked either, a few days later, and already having been expelled. Especially since only a few minutes after the video was leaked, August had his phone with him and even answered a phone call from Minou from the Royal Court. Even if Alexander had had August’s phone, and had been able to record without unblocking the phone (August has an iPhone with a home button, so usually a fingerprint is required), it still would raise the question of when and how the phone was “hacked” to obtain the video, how long the video remained in the phone, etc. And August doesn’t seem to know that the Royal Court is in possession of the most damning evidence of all, the library computer from which he logged in and posted the video… As far as August knows the Queen and the Royal Court found out that it was August because Wille told them, because Felice figured it out and told him. So his whole plan is playing with fire and full of holes anyway. Either he and Alexander are too stupid to realize this, or they’re just counting of Wille getting scared. Which is why they’re warning him about what they’ll do if Simon reports.

And the weirdest thing to me is… Alexander is getting back at Will by willingly taking the blame for CHILD PORNOGRAPHY???? Something that he didn’t actually do???? He’s willing to be known as the guy who filmed the Crown Prince and Simon in an intimate moment and created a video that went infamously viral???? Like that could not have an impact on his future??? For fuck’s sake, he’s dumber than I thought…

But Wille is right, this whole stupid-ass plot won’t stop Simon from going to the police. But the drugs definitely will… There’s no escaping that…

“It’s time to stop this, everything calmed down once you denied the rumors… no one cares about the video.” “I CARE!”

Wille looks ready to commit murder. I would have loved him to use his headbutting skills to give August a nice purple bruise that would look really nice at the Jubilee.

I feel bad for Rousseau. That new owner is a dick.

“I want to be completely honest with you. No more secrets between us” says Felice, and Sara has been the most dishonest of the two this whole time…

“I’m in love with August.” Not “I’ve been sleeping with August” or “I have been seeing August in secret”. LOVE. Whoa.

This whole time Sara really thought that Felice would hate her for being in love with August just because he was her ex, when in reality it’s because Felice knows that August is a terrible person who can’t be trusted and Sara shouldn’t be in love someone like that… not knowing that Sara has been pretty bad herself and should not be trusted.

August being all “What’s this? The police? What is this police of which you speak?” Like he doesn’t know that Simon can knock him down and sit on him again and mash his face into the ground…

“I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to protect the royal family. Maybe you should do the same.” Very well, thinks Wille, picking up the gun to kill August and protect the royal family from the threat that is August.

Simon stepping back, in case Wille does shoot August or something, but not trying to talk him down. “He’s about to confess.” Wille says it, letting him know that he’s serious, this will turn into an “accident” if August doesn’t confess.

It’s been pointed out before that that moment, when Wille is ready to shoot August for what he did to him, to them, when he flinches as Wille shoots into the air, is the first time that Simon sees how much the video leak affected Wille, but also how much he couldn't do anything about it. Even if he denied the whole thing on an interview, people still knew that was him on the video, he was still outed, his privacy was still violated, and his own family still betrayed him, and it changed him forever. And this is all that built up anger coming out. So if Simon still thought that Wille only did badly for a while and then he was fine, now he sees that Wille is deeply traumatized.

When August glances at Sara, Felice already knows… Sara just revealed to her that she’s in love with August, so if she knew that Simon was going to the police, she might have told August. And then Sara confirms it.

The look on Simon’s face when Sara looks guilty. He’s in absolute disbelief. They all are.

“I was in love with him.” This is the first time August is hearing this…

“I thought the damage was done since the video was already out there.” More proof that Sara didn’t really understand what Simon was going through, that it wasn’t just about the video, it was the wedge that was driven between him and Wille, it was the fact that August got away with it, that the Royal Court protected him.

And for all of Sara’s excuses, the fact remains that she chose August over her own brother, even before she was actually in love with August. Which means she chose the privilege that August offered over being loyal to her own brother…

“He wanted to come clean. And I believed him.” Like she really kept it a secret for that reason… No, Sara, you weren’t hoping that August would come clean, you just wanted to live in Manor house and be elite and potentially even become the future Queen…

“It wasn’t enough that you destroyed my family, you had to destroy another one.”

At this point August really believes that Wille might shoot him and starts to beg him not to. It’s like he almost believes that Wille has nothing to lose.

“You don’t even want to be prince.” And August is right. As he watches Simon walk away, Wille drops the gun to go after him, because Simon is much more important than the fucking crown, something that August doesn’t seem to understand, something he will never understand. Wille walks away toward Simon, because he won’t let August destroy that too. (If Wille has ever thought of a long-term future with Simon, of being each other’s family, that’s the family that he wants to protect now.)

“You’re despicable.” Felice realizing what Sara is capable of. Was their friendship real? Was it just convenient to Sara? To have access to Rousseau, to be with the most popular girl in Hillerska? If she betrayed her own brother, what’s keeping Sara from betraying anyone else?

Personally spitting on August is a nice touch. Wille is basically saying “I won’t get my hands dirty because of you, but this is how I feel about you, this is what you’re worth, scum.”

“You were going to confess, August.” Sara doesn’t understand the value of secrecy in this society. Also August confessing was never really a major thing for her until Simon found out and wanted to go to the police. Before that, she was fine with how things were, even when she saw how miserable her brother was…

“You know about the struggle to get what you want… we’re the same, you and I.” August comparing Sara being working class and wanting to fit in in an elite school to him wanting to keep his status and become next in line to the throne… yes, they are the same, but at different levels. I’m not excusing what Sara did, but August is definitely worse. “It’s what I love about you.” What? You love that she became ruthless and deceitful and treacherous? Because that’s what you are…

“I had no other choice.” To be precise, he had no other choice that would keep him out of potentially going to jail.

Simon is keeping all of his emotions inside. Wille hugging him brings them too close to the surface and he’s at risk of them spilling all over… the way his voice trembles as he says “please…”, like he’s about to cry, but he doesn’t want to cry here, not where someone can see him, he just wants to go home, he wants to get away from it all, even Wille. You can’t fix this, he’s basically saying. Everything is destroyed in ways that he didn’t even know, because his own sister, his own family, betrayed him too. It’s not even about just August, it’s also now Sara, and it’s everything that has happened to him since the moment he met Wille. He hasn’t had a moment of peace…

And Wille watches him go, knowing too that he can’t fix it either. And he’s still trapped…

Kristina doesn’t even know what Wille’s crying about, she just comforts him, sort of… and he smiles sort of (because despite what she has done to him, she’s still his mother, he still wants to trust her, be comforted by her). But she doesn’t ask him what’s wrong.

Simon’s face and eyes are raw from crying. He called his friends, who know the whole story, to vent… And Ayub and Rosh immediately jump to the conclusion that Sara must have been brainwashed by August to have done this, otherwise she would be incapable… is clear that they don’t know her either.

Linda, again, what’s up with you? Your son looks like he’s been crying himself raw, and his friends look morose. How do you not get that something more is going on…? Simon doesn’t want her to know, anyway, because it would break her heart. He’s the protector, he wants to protect his family. I agree with a lot of people who say that the events of that day show Simon that Wille really had no choice, that he was after all just acting like everything was fine but he was most definitely not fine. After seeing how he pointed a gun at August, nearly losing it, it's clear to Simon that Wille's never intended to protect August, but had not choice but to put up with him; that of course he was traumatized by the leaked video, but he was forced to deny it. And after finding out that even his own sister had betrayed him, Simon realizes that he has no choice either, that someone else will always have the upper hand. So now he will have to change his strategy if he wants to protect those he cares about, including Wille. “If everyone is going to protect their families, then I’ll do the same.” Simon is a lot like his mother, he sacrifices a lot for his family. Linda looks like she understands. She is proud of Simon and she will support whatever he decides.

(gif by @almostliving84, because I don't know how to search for it in the gifs search bar when I already know where the gif is...)

As I mentioned before, Kristina also went to Hillerska, she knows about the palatset, she knows about the secrecy culture. Her choice to send Wille to Hillerska was never really about making him into a proper prince, it was about keeping him out of the public eye so he could do whatever he wanted without it becoming a scandal. A plan which majorly backfired when the secrecy cycle was broken… by August of all people…

“Your mother is not as innocent as she’d like to appear.” Yes, we know. “Stop it, don’t put ideas into his head.” Don’t worry, Kristina, your son will never ever be like you.

Wilhelm looking in pain as he is forced to participate in this charade. “How are you, gubben?” Now she asks. Boy has been moping since before you got there, and you didn’t even care, until now when it’s too obvious to ignore.

“It just creates new and bigger problems.” The way that the video, that everything has been handled, is nothing new; everything that doesn’t fit into the mold is swept under the rug, every wrinkle is ironed out, and then everyone goes on pretending like nothing happened.

“It’s important to talk about your emotions, but you can talk to us about anything.” “But it’s not enough.” Indeed it’s not. Krissy, you wanted him to talk to a psychologist, but that’s not the solution to the problem. Wille has finally understood why he feels the way he feels, and he’s learned to communicate. But it’s not enough, what’s the point of talking if nothing happens? If nothing changes? He’s expected to learn to handle his emotions, but the root of the problem, of the thing causing his distress, his anxiety, remains untouched. The monarchy, the cycle of secrecy, the traditions… everything stays the same…

The crowd of girls gathered outside the room. Either word spreads really freaking fast, or Sara took a very long time to go back to her room… Or did Felice leave the door open and then start telling Stella and Fredrika about it so loudly that everyone heard? Judging from the fact that just now the housemistress arrives, maybe it hasn’t been that long…

Sara very subtly threatens Stella with outing her. She unfortunately doesn’t realize how much like August she is. Making threats when she doesn’t have the upper hand, when she’s being called out.

“Sara has proven that she’s not a friend. She’s not loyal.” Obviously Felice can’t talk about the real reason why Sara’s betrayal is so big, not in front of Stella, Fredrika or the housemistress, but she makes it very clear to Sara.

“I don’t know what happened, I’ve never been in love before.” But again, Sara wasn’t in love with August when she decided to keep this huge secret from Simon. She might have had been catching feelings, because they kissed and she was curious, but still she made that choice to get an advantage. “I could always tell right from wrong, but with him it all seemed right.” Bullshit, she always knew it was wrong. Otherwise she wouldn’t have threatened to tell Wille last season; otherwise she wouldn’t have implied to Simon that a person can’t help what they feel, when Simon felt rotten about “cheating” on Marcus. She knew it was wrong. “You’re so totally full of shit,” Felice calls her out. It’s been months of secrecy at this point.

August texting “Please, I feel like shit.” You should. The drugs he claimed he would stop taking soon beckon him. Another lie. Then he looks in the mirror as he practices the speech and says “to make you proud.” Irony.

Wilhelm is lying in bed, bathed in red light, and I first missed the symbolism of him playing with Erik’s lighter… playing with fire… Cities on fire, won’t you burn it all… before he looks at Erik’s cigarette case… He’s thinking of Erik, he still feels the weight of his title and the commitment of living up to his brother’s memory and legacy, but also maybe he’s wondering what Erik would tell him to do in this situation…

(Could not find these gifs in the search bar either, so I found it in @levok s page, thank you for it. Seriously, if anyone can teach this loser -me- to search for gifs when you already know where it is, so that it shows up with the credit and all, please teach me so I can fix this, and all the previous posts. Thank you.)

Never not loving the scene of Ayub and Simon talking as they’re both falling asleep, that’s a really supportive friend, we all deserve an Ayub. “But he wants to keep it a secret, and you don’t.” Not quite; Wille doesn’t want their relationship to be a secret, he he just knows that it was an option proposed by his mother, and he was desperate enough to consider it. Simon tells Ayub about the possibility of him and Wille being a secret relationship until they’re eighteen. As far as we know, he hadn’t thought about that again, since Wille mentioned it in the locker room, because he had pretty much discarded that option as insulting. Because it made him feel like a dirty little secret… But now… now it seems like an option again, maybe the only option… to be with Wille, even if it has to be secret. He’s also bathed in red light as he ponders it…

“Only you can decide,” says Ayub. The light turns from blue (the color of calm, security and inner reflection) to purple (the color of royalty, but also as the combination of blue and red, it contains the stability of blue and the energy of red, and it also symbolizes spirituality, creativity and wisdom, and perhaps more importantly, it’s the color of resistance of the queer community) to red (the color of love and passion), signaling that Simon might have already made his choice.

The stage is set; the Swedish flag, the pomp and circumstance… On the bus, Simon looks pretty serene. Like he already knows, he’s already made up his mind. He just hopes he doesn’t regret it. Meanwhile, Wille practices the speech, resigned to following the charade, fitting into the perfect image of a crown prince.

Felice emerges from a room (a random room under the stairs? I had decided in my head that she either went to Stella and Fredrika’s room, or even more likely to Madison’s, and slept on the floor, but the way that she leaves the door open…), to find Sara gone, the expensive riding pants the girls gifted her left behind, a major symbol of how she realized that she’s never going to fit in with the girls at Manor house. (By the way, how long did Sara take to go from Manor house to the entrance, if Felice found her gone already, but by the time the jubilee is already happening and people are arriving she hasn’t even left the premises…? How fucking far is Manor house from the main gate??)

August arriving like nothing’s happened. He thinks he’s in. He still has to stand on the back of pictures, but he’s still living it. Kristina looking at Wille like she’s gauging how committed he is to the charade, to pretending that there’s no bad blood with August.

Vincent and Nils tease August, like there’s no bad blood anymore either. Do they know he’s next in line, did he tell them?

Wille glances at August, sees how different they’re acting in that lineup. Whilst Wille feels so awkward and stifled, August looks like he fits right in. If it weren’t because he detests him, he’d give it all up to August, who actually likes performing like this.

August is so ecstatic about how well he’s doing that he momentarily forgot about Sara. Until he sees her. Things are not perfect, indeed.

August buying Rousseau for Sara thinking that’s what she wanted. No, she wanted you to be a better person. You can’t throw money at everything. And also yes, of course she wanted Rousseau, but how do you expect her to take care of it???? She has no money. Then as she leaves, he calls weakly after her, but then he walks the other way. Clearly he has his priorities in the right order, and she’s not as important to him as everything else.

Simon signals to Wille that he wants to talk. Wille probably thought that everything had gone to shit again, that Simon would never speak to him again… again… They go into the coat room, the place where they had their first kiss, where everything started… Wille is so tense, he’s so afraid of what Simon is going to say. He listens, apprehensive, until he realizes where Simon is going… “It’s not worth destroying our families over that. And it’s not worth destroying what we have.” Simon and Wille somehow, deep down, might already think of each other as family, as each other’s future. My heart…

“I want to be with you. Even if it has to be a secret.” The tension melts. “But no more secrets between us.” The little smile of joy, the little relieved exhale, the excited little nod… and meanwhile Simon is smiling so big that his eyes crinkle. Then Wille takes his hand, because he’s allowed again… Then they look at each other and they hug, and Wille is home again. He’s happy again. They both are. They still have each other.

And then Simon says ‘I love you’, and Wilhelm has been hoping to hear those words for so long, the confirmation that Simon feels the same way, and he realizes that it does not deserve to be a secret. He doesn’t want it to be a secret. That they both deserve more. That he wants to love Simon openly. If anything else happens that jeopardizes them being together, he can’t allow it. He hasn’t decided what he’s going to do yet, or when, but he needs to make sure that they (the Court) can’t go back on their promise of letting him be with Simon. He’a willing to fight tooth and nail for that. He can’t let anything get between them again.

Jan-Olof interrupts them (asshole), and Simon immediately backs away, drops his arms, but Wille is not so fazed, he’s almost defiant. He wants to touch and caress Simon so bad, but he can’t be as effusive as he wishes, because someone is watching, and that’s how it would be all the time. But he gives in for the moment, walking away casually. And Simon is being so brave about it, knowing that they’re good, that they’re finally on the same page, even if they’re not entirely happy with the page.

Sara hears the choir begin to sing. She is missing out on the event that she was sort of preparing for, imagining having to greet the Queen, learning what to say. She is once again an outsider looking in (or rather listening in). The event has lost its meaning.

Meanwhile Wille watches as Simon performs with the crowd, looking dejected, just another member of the group. Knowing what Simon can do as a soloist, knowing how much he loves hearing Simon sing, knowing that that was supposed to be a song written by Simon, a song he was proud of, a song that (he later found out) was about him, it really highlights how unfair and outdated the system is, to deny one student, one talented choir singer, to stand out.

Sara might change schools next season, now that I think about it. What if she’s too ashamed to return? Continuing to attend Hillerska would mean enduring gossip about her, hateful looks from Felice and Simon, judgement from Wille and the rest of the people who know what she did (Stella, Fredrika, the rest of the girls at Manor House, etc.) and having to encounter August.

In a misguided attempt to make things right with her brother, she calls the police to report August. She should not have made that call, not only because we know it might make things worse now, but also because it was not her place to make the report, it was Simon’s.

Wilhelm braving his anxiety and feeling ill and making a last second decision to do the speech, because he saw Simon’s worried face when smug August starts walking toward the podium. Giving up this moment to August means giving everything to August, and it means they win. They, the Crown, the Royal Court, the system, they win. And Wille can’t let that happen, he needs to regain control of the narrative again, for himself and for Simon. This is it, this is his chance, anxiety be damned.

The confused look on everyone’s faces. What the hell was that about? August’s face as he is forced to sit his ass back down. The “torture”, the humiliation at the hands of Wille continues. Karma, bitch.

And Krissy looking so proud, thinking that her plan worked. But no mi ciela, it wasn’t August that ultimately lit the fire under Wille, it was Simon. His decision to step up is not driven by hate, but by love.

I don’t think that Wille knew what he was going to say when he stood up to do the speech, he just knew that he couldn’t let August take over, because then it wasn’t only him and Simon getting stuck with August, it was everyone else. Taking away August’s chance to give the jubilee speech, for example, is not about having revenge on August anymore, it’s about fulfilling his leadership role, and realizing that if he doesn’t, then there won’t be a leader, but a power-hungry narcissist “in charge”.

Wille chooses to lead by example, stopping the cycle of silence and secrecy by telling the truth, being honest, and if he had let August, August would basically lead by example too but by continuing that cycle of secrecy and silence.

Also Wille standing up to do the speech instead of August was at first about putting Simon’s feelings first, before his own feelings of unease and anxiety. Simon who has just been hit in the face with such revelations, like Sara’s betrayal, and how far August was willing to go to screw him over and Wille, his threat to use his father’s drugs against him… and it’s so clear on his face how much he’s putting up with August for his and Wille’s sake, now having to be a part of the people who have to pretend that they don’t know that August committed sexual harassment against them, that August exposed them to the world and ruined their lives, Simon has to hide his feelings, his distress at knowing that, despite all those things, at any moment August just gets everything he’s ever wanted, he’s Wille’s backup, he’s one step closer to his beloved Crown… And Wille’s not having it. Not for himself anymore, but for Simon. He will sacrifice his own freedom for Simon, and for the greater good.

The girl with the phone thinking “whoa, he’s going off-script. Better stream this.” Simon looking nervous, knowing what’s coming. Boris looking so proud and amused. And Krissy on the verge of a fit, silently begging “stop”...

When Wille says “it was me in the video, the video of me and Simon,” the camera cuts to several faces, including of course the Queen and Simon, and a moment earlier to Boris looking all proud. But it wasn’t until the Netflix reel announcing Season 3, when they did the 12 Days of Christmas song, in the part where it goes “Four pretty words”, the four faces being shown are Simon, Kristina, Boris… and Stella… Stella looking shocked. I hadn’t realized that the first face they cut to after Wille mentions Simon is Stella’s. They focused, albeit briefly, on her reaction to Wille coming out… of course Stella’s sexuality is going to be a big thing next season, but I love how they focused on her, making it obvious that we’ll learn more about her.

I thought it was a nice little detail that the two students whom we see filming Wille, when Wille says that it was a private moment, they both look up from the screen of their cameras and instead look directly at Wille.

The cameras flashing at Simon, at his distressed face. Foreboding. And yet he smiles.

Wilhelm knows that what’s coming now is going to be difficult, but at least he’ll have Simon by his side. He glances skyward, as if to check with Erik, wondering if he’s proud of his little brother. Yes, Wille, I think Erik would be really proud.

He then looks defiantly at us, like he knows we’re here, watching, and his lips curl into the faintest of smiles, a rebellious, daring smirk. He has regained control.

My royals babies have truly been through the wringer, and I know that yet more challenges will arise for them in the third season. But they will be together, they will face them together, and although they have been changed forever, in good ways and bad ways, they have made each other stronger

#young royals #wilmon #young royals analysis #young royals thoughts #wilmon endgame #young royals season 2 #young royals s2

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toast-crumb · 1 year ago

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Omg More Sleep Paralysis

if you want skip to the end where it actually gets kinda interesting

This one was a lot more intense than the other ones i’ve had lately, not sure why.

At first I was just dreaming, and it quickly turned into a nightmare. Like one thing after another it got progressively worse and I was panicking the whole time. Idk what triggered it but then I know my body starts feeling kinda heavy, and Im so groggy. So i opened one of my eyes and I see ??? beside me, it was kinda swirling? I couldn’t tell if it was one of my cats or a stuffed animal but then- my body started vibrating and I could hear some low voice singing this dumb song.

Then I was like “oh okay that’s great” and closed my eye again. Each time I have this I’m so determined to shift with it- but i have not had a lick of luck yet lmao BUT-

the auditory hallucinations were more frequent with this one, a bit louder. I kept telling myself it’s all my imagination, and I need to focus. Eventually, I feel my body pull forward kinda, and just float. And eventually, I appeared to be in a void. I got a little excited and was like “omg am i in the void state???” There were all sorts of stars in front of me, and I got closer and closer to them until I realized I was about to pass through, so I closed my eyes and braced myself. It felt like going through a thing of water. When I reopened my eyes, I was looking down into a puddle in the middle of the woods, and jOEL FUCKING MILLER WAS THERE NEXT TO ME, LOOKING AT ME IN THE REFLECTION

Mentally, I was like “dbslalhdlapab holy shit did i shift??”

But before I had the chance to ground myself and do my reality checks i fucking woke up. The cool thing though? I felt calm, really relaxed and content. Which is the exact opposite of how I feel any other time I have a SP episode.

#shiftblr #reality shifting #desired reality #shifttok #shifting #shifting community #shifting stories #shifting consciousness #twd shifting #shifting to spn #shifting to tlou #shifting to desired reality #shifting realities #shifting methods

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hyperfixationsstation · 1 year ago

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I’m just mentally preparing myself for the possibility that CP will be in a brace for their next episodes 😭😭

lol 🤫🤫🤫 lets not talk about it

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coffeecat1983 · 1 year ago

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Danke, Winzer! I love these lists.

Favourite Colour: Powder Blue (or black, both are comforting for me)

Currently Reading: The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkin (one of many rereads)

Last Series: Good Omens, season 2 still 3 episodes to go. Mentally bracing myself. Next up, Disenchantment Season 5!

Sweet, Savoury, or Spicy: Depends on my mood, really. I like all three.

Currently Working on: Link/Kohga fanfics, a Robotnik/Stone fanfic, slamming out various Good Omens Alternate Universe fluff, I am a busy man.

I never know who to tag! I'm sorry! Um, anyone who wants to join in/reblog, feel free!

Tag 9 People You Want To Know Better

Thank you for the tag @cheeto-flavoured-pasta!!

Favorite Color: Teal

Currently Reading: Kill a Stranger by Simon Kernick

Last Series: I think it was The Office (this was like three years ago)

Sweet, savory, or spicy? Spicy

Currently working on: The Star Child, Experiment 615 and Loop 420 Group Project

Gently Tagging @holdmyteaplease @enne-uni @desastreus @starbuds-and-rosedust @ashwithapen

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bitchesgetriches · 2 years ago

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MASTERPOST: Everything You Need to Know about Repairing Our Busted-Ass World

On poverty:

Starting from nothing

How To Start at Rock Bottom: Welfare Programs and the Social Safety Net

How to Save for Retirement When You Make Less Than $30,000 a Year

Ask the Bitches: “Is It Too Late to Get My Financial Shit Together?“

Understanding why people are poor

It’s More Expensive to Be Poor Than to Be Rich

Why Are Poor People Poor and Rich People Rich?

On Financial Discipline, Generational Poverty, and Marshmallows

Bitchtastic Book Review: Hand to Mouth by Linda Tirado

Is Gentrification Just Artisanal, Small-Batch Displacement of the Poor?

Coronavirus Reveals America’s Pre-existing Conditions, Part 1: Healthcare, Housing, and Labor Rights

Developing compassion for poor people

The Latte Factor, Poor Shaming, and Economic Compassion

Ask the Bitches: “How Do I Stop Myself from Judging Homeless People?“

The Subjectivity of Wealth, Or: Don’t Tell Me What’s Expensive

A Little Princess: Intersectional Feminist Masterpiece?

If You Can’t Afford to Tip 20%, You Can’t Afford to Dine Out

Correcting income inequality

1 Easy Way All Allies Can Help Close the Gender and Racial Pay Gap

One Reason Women Make Less Money? They’re Afraid of Being Raped and Killed.

Raising the Minimum Wage Would Make All Our Lives Better

Are Unions Good or Bad?

On intersectional social issues:

Reproductive rights

On Pulling Weeds and Fighting Back: How (and Why) to Protect Abortion Rights

How To Get an Abortion

Blood Money: Menstrual Products for Surviving Your Period While Poor

You Don’t Have to Have Kids

Gender equality

1 Easy Way All Allies Can Help Close the Gender and Racial Pay Gap

The Pink Tax, Or: How I Learned to Love Smelling Like “Bearglove”

Our Single Best Piece of Advice for Women (and Men) on International Women’s Day

Bitchtastic Book Review: The Feminist Financial Handbook by Brynne Conroy

Sexual Harassment: How to Identify and Fight It in the Workplace

Queer issues

Queer Finance 101: Ten Ways That Sexual and Gender Identity Affect Finances

Leaving Home before 18: A Practical Guide for Cast-Offs, Runaways, and Everybody in Between

Racial justice

The Financial Advantages of Being White

Woke at Work: How to Inject Your Values into Your Boring, Lame-Ass Job

The New Jim Crow, by Michelle Alexander: A Bitchtastic Book Review

Something Is Wrong in Personal Finance. Here’s How To Make It More Inclusive.

The Biggest Threat to Black Wealth Is White Terrorism

Coronavirus Reveals America’s Pre-existing Conditions, Part 2: Racial and Gender Inequality

10 Rad Black Money Experts to Follow Right the Hell Now

Youth issues

What We Talk About When We Talk About Student Loans

The Ugly Truth About Unpaid Internships

Ask the Bitches: “I Just Turned 18 and My Parents Are Kicking Me Out. How Do I Brace Myself?”

Identifying and combatting abuse

When Money is the Weapon: Understanding Intimate Partner Financial Abuse

Are You Working on the Next Fyre Festival?: Identifying a Toxic Workplace

Ask the Bitches: “How Do I Say ‘No’ When a Loved One Asks for Money… Again?”

Ask the Bitches: I Was Guilted Into Caring for a Sick, Abusive Parent. Now What?

On mental health:

Understanding mental health issues

How Mental Health Affects Your Finances

Stop Recommending Therapy Like It’s a Magic Bean That’ll Grow Me a Beanstalk to Neurotypicaltown

Bitchtastic Book Review: Kurt Vonnegut’s Galapagos and Your Big Brain

Ask the Bitches: “How Do I Protect My Own Mental Health While Still Helping Others?”

Coping with mental health issues

{ MASTERPOST } Everything You Need to Know about Self-Care

My 25 Secrets to Successfully Working from Home with ADHD

Our Master List of 100% Free Mental Health Self-Care Tactics

On saving the planet:

Changing the system

Don’t Boo, Vote: If You Don’t Vote, No One Can Hear You Scream

Ethical Consumption: How to Pollute the Planet and Exploit Labor Slightly Less

The Anti-Consumerist Gift Guide: I Have No Gift to Bring, Pa Rum Pa Pum Pum

Season 1, Episode 4: “Capitalism Is Working for Me. So How Could I Hate It?”

Coronavirus Reveals America’s Pre-existing Conditions, Part 1: Healthcare, Housing, and Labor Rights

Coronavirus Reveals America’s Pre-existing Conditions, Part 2: Racial and Gender Inequality

Shopping smarter

You Deserve Cheap Toilet Paper, You Beautiful Fucking Moon Goddess

You Are above Bottled Water, You Elegant Land Mermaid

Fast Fashion: Why It’s Fucking up the World and How To Avoid It

You Deserve Cheap, Fake Jewelry… Just Like Coco Chanel

6 Proven Tactics for Avoiding Emotional Impulse Spending

#masterpost #mental health #poverty #gender equality

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years ago

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𝓐𝓾𝓻𝓸𝓻𝓪 𝓐𝓼𝔂𝓵𝓾𝓶: 𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙, 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛, 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖, 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎, 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚜. 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘 × 𝙿𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎)

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟹𝙺

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚂𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙰𝚄

❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃

I breathed out an airy and desolate sigh through my nose, obviously I unconsciously did it a little too loud as the raven haired male sitting across from me looked down at the floor.

"It was all my fault.....wasn't it?"

I looked up, the glasses sitting on my nose bridge tilting slightly that I had to push them back up so I could study his features, or should I say, his expressions. His eyelids never blinked once, his eyes were trained on the pattern of the carpet underneath him, but I knew his mind was elsewhere. I looked with pity at the bandages wrapped around his wrists, some of the edges stained with fresh blood. I gulped slightly, my stomach threatening to spill out my meager lunch of an apple and avocado toast slice from earlier. I could handle hearing patients tell and retell me about how they stabbed their parents to death, cut off their significant other's genitals because they were unloyal to them, even tackled a deranged lunatic that once tried to...... seduce me to put mildly.......

But to this day, I can't help but get dizzy when I treat or deal with patients who are self harming victims, because yes, they are victims. Victims of their own self loathing, guilt, and depressive state that isn't their fault. It just pains me so much to see them resort to such drastic measures...

But I'm also not stupid and know some, if not most only do it for attention or to manipulate others, and Yunho is a case not far from it. Which is why I was the one sent to deal with him. All the other psychologists would have fallen for his sad puppy eyes, good looks, well built physique and would have released him too early into the world. Not that he's dangerous and a threat to society, but he's not emotionally nor mentally stable to go deal with daily life yet. And I'm not a softie by any means even if I'm patient and meek doctor when necessary. But I'm objective and I seek deeper into the true person hiding behind the front they put in front of me.

"Do you believe it was your fault Yunho?" Usually one would get scolded for answering a question with a question, but I prefer this method in order to get my patients to reason and draw out their own conclusions......

And makes them pour out their true answers.

I watch Yunho ponder for a moment.

"It has to be- otherwise she wouldn't have...wouldn't have-"

He bites back a choked sob, teeth tightening and gritting against themselves as he fails to contain his tears. His hands cover his face as he begins to cry uncontrollably, desperate and heartwrenching wails resonating throughout the 4 walls keeping us company. Reaching for the purple plaid box on the coffee table between us, I take out a few tissues and stand up from my seat. Lightly tapping on his shoulder, I whisper a 'here' to him. He thanks me, but since he's crying too hard no sound comes out his throat. For the next few minutes, he's blowing out his runny nose, all red just like his eyes from crying too hard. He's sniffling while trying to control his previous hyperventilating session. I want to hug him or at least give him a pat in the back. But I can't, I can only sit back and try to imagine the agony he's probably going through, try to put myself in his shoes as I dive deep into the event that got him here in the first place:

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Coming back from a trip to the store, Yunho momentarily looks around confused when he heard his baby daughter crying. Quickly putting the bags on the kitchen counter, he makes his way over to the nursery that adjoined the main bedroom. Calling out for his wife, he receives no response as he walks down the hallway. He calls once more for her but stops midway as he opens the slightly ajar door. His heart stops beating and his veins run cold as he stares into the lifeless body of his beloved wife hanging in the room, feeling as if the oxygen is being ripped out from his lungs, suffocating slowly.

As if sensing his agitation, his daughter's cries from the other room grow louder, so much that they raise concern from their next door neighbor, a kind and sweet old lady who more than once has offered her help in watching over the child or help them out in any way she could. Typing in the passcode, she makes it there just in time to stop the tall male from inflicting more harm upon himself as he holds onto his wife's body in agony. Having been left with no choice, she immediately calls for an ambulance, who arrive there shortly and take him to a nearby hospital.

He was monitored 24/7 as he had a history of attempted suicide before. The nurses and doctors didn't want another episode to happen again, not wanting to leave a barely 1 year old fatherless as well as motherless. As an investigation went, police found a journal hidden deep between the mattresses on the bed. When they poured over the first pages, they knew there was much more to the story than just a doting husband who couldn't live without his wife, hence why he was relocated to the infamous asylum......

And a specialized woman was tasked to not only unmask the truth, but hopefully help a poor broken mind be put back together again.

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Hence why I'm here now, the folder I had read over and over again still on my lap. It honestly amazed me that I'd actually get to work on a case like this, and of course I took up the challenge of digging into a mind like Yunho's, not just to help him, but to leave a precedent for any other situations like this that came after.

"A precedent?" I remember the officer asking me.

"Yes. You'd be surprised just how common these types of toxic relationships there are in an everyday basis yet no one ever looks deeper because they're too focused treating a depressed person who's trying to kill themselves and don't focus on what they really are...."

Shutting the folder, I tucked it under my arm before turning on my heel.

"A manipulative individual who'll do anything to keep someone tied to them forever."

That's how I viewed Yunho, it's how I should be viewing him. At least until I could hopefully get him to change.

"How's......is my daughter ok?"

I let out a soft hum and nod as I scribbled something down on the notepad.

"She's fine. We're having someone take care of her in the meantime, don't worry."

Yunho let out a sigh of relief, fingers fidgeting against his thighs as he mustered up the courage to say something.

"Could I.....could I please see her?"

From the sad look in my eyes he could already tell the answer was negative.

"I'm sorry Yunho....I'm afraid until we see some improvement, we can't allow you to be reunited with her just yet."

I tried to keep my voice steady as I said that, bracing myself to possibly see him breakdown once more. He had already lost his wife and now learning that his only child was forced away from him could possibly send him spiraling down into another episode.

But Yunho instead took a deep breath and seemed calm.

"I understand.....it's ok..." I knew he was saying those last two words more to himself than to me.

Lifting his face up, he suddenly shocked me by looking so bright and rather happy.

"So I guess it's best if we begin right?"

Even to this day, I don't know whether I should have been delighted to have such a compliant patient.....

Or terrified.

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"Tell me Yunho, what was your first reaction when you saw your wife?"

A subtle hint of a smile curled at the corners of his lips.

"I thought she was the kindest and most caring person in the world, very pretty too. She just walked in and the room instantly lit up."

He was reminiscing about those times, I could tell. That fond look on his face was unmistakable.

"Do you believe you fell in love at first sight with her?"

His smile suddenly dissipated, eyebrows scrunching together as if recollecting memories from so long ago.

"I think.......I felt attracted to her.....but.....I don't think it was love?"

I could tell he felt conflicted with himself, but that's exactly what I wanted. I want him to question every feeling and sensation he felt at the moment so he could decide for himself if it was real or just a mere illusion he held. If he starts to second guess or question what he felt then he'd start reasoning and come to the conclusion that what he felt was wrong and mistaken. He'd see that his actions weren't justified.

"So when do you truly believe you fell in love with her?"

I stopped writing on my notepad and watched him close his eyes as he tried to pinpoint the exact time he felt whatever he thought was love.

"One night....one of our friends was feeling down in spirits. I witnessed how caring she was towards them...kindly reassuring them that they were loved, that they mattered. I vividly remember her kind eyes and loving smile as she comforted them. Then it hit me that she was that kind of person. Selfless, caring, doting, would sacrifice anything for her friends and family...... it was hard for anyone not to fall in love with her."

He turned his hand over, studying the wedding ring that he still wore to this day, the engravings of their initials being his prime interest.

"And at that moment I knew I had to have her. I couldn't let anyone else have her. I wanted her.... that love, compassion, empathy..her confidence and strong nature, I wanted-"

He stopped mid sentence and his eyes wizened in horror as he came to the realization I had foreseen long ago. He looked up at me, meeting my unwavering eyes that held no emotion at that moment.

"She had all the qualities I had always lacked in."

I took my glasses off and nodded.

"And I unconsciously wanted them for myself.... but the only way I could have them was...through her?" He seemed sickened with himself.

"Not exactly Yunho. You could have learnt to love yourself and raise your self esteem." I quickly scribbled my observation down.

"But I didn't. Instead I caged her up and slowly tore her down."

I couldn't help but let out an involuntary smile as he drew out that conclusion.

"Glad to know you've accepted that fact, even if it took several months for you to understand."

Shutting the notepad, I lifted myself up from my chair, straightening my blouse. Yunho followed suit.

"Is our session over?" He was always so polite, always escorting me out and holding the door open for me, which other doctors would have adamantly refused, too scared to come close to their patients. But not me. I let them have certain liberties at times.

"Not yet Yunho. As you've made remarkable progress, I got permission for you to see someone."

He was momentarily confused for a split second. Poor thing probably thought it was one of the nurses coming in to give him some new medication to take, which he hated with a passion. Stepping outside for a brief moment, I happily took the young baby in my arms, the little girl already used to seeing me as I always went to go see her after being with Yunho for a few hours. When I came back inside he had his back turned to me, once again staring off into nowhere. The light gurgled babbles the baby emitted caught his attention immediately. He whipped his head around so fast I thought he'd break his neck for a second. He teared up as the child began squealing in excitement as she recognized her father right away.

"Oh my-" He choked up with tears that he couldn't finish his sentence.

I calmly walked over to him, lightly bouncing the baby in my arms. Yunho hesitantly reached his hands out.

"Can I..?" He had such a hopeful glint in his eyes.

I didn't answer, I merely held his daughter out to him. As soon as she felt his embrace, she latched onto him as if he was one of the teddy bears she often slept with. Perhaps he was one.

No....he is one.

In my time of spending time with Yunho, I've come to strongly believe he is a sweet and tender individual. And judging by the way the little girl feels safe in his arms, I do believe he is capable of being truly loved.....

If he learns how to properly love not just someone else, but himself too.

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Stepping out of my car, I quickly grab the small pink bag on the passenger seat before locking it. Treading through the small patch of green grass, I ring the doorbell and wait for one of the occupants to open up for me. No surprise, I'm greeted by the same raven haired male I met nearly 3 years ago. He looks delighted to see me.

"Y/N. Hi!"

I wave at him, a small but genuine smile on my features.

"Hi Yunho. Did I come at a bad time?" I notice the apron covered in flour and leftover egg on it.

"Oh no not at all. Please come in."

Moving aside to let me pass, my nose catches the scent of baked goods filling the air. I can distinctly recognize the hints of lavender and french vanilla, an odd but surprisingly tasty combination. I spot out of the corner of my eye a little head peeking out from the kitchen, curious to know who had come to pay them a visit. Letting out a squeal, she quickly ran over to attach herself on my leg.

"Y/N!"

I chuckled and lightly run my fingers through her hair which was longer than the last time I saw it.

"Hi Jina, I see you've been baking something." We both chuckle as I scraped off some cake batter that had gotten on the tip of her button nose.

"Me and dad are making cupcakes for my friend's birthday party tomorrow." She explained.

"Wow that's a really nice gesture. I bet they'll turn out delicious."

Remembering that I was short on time and that I had one last task to carry out, I pull out the bag I had hidden behind my back and hand it to her.

"It's for you."

Her eyes began to sparkle so much they could rival all the stars in the galaxy. After thanking me like 20 thousand times, she plopped her tiny body on the couch to tear into the contents inside it. I shake my head before taking out a small paper from inside my trench coat.

"And this is for you."

Taking the slip from my fingers, Yunho opens it up and scans what it says. He seems confused for a moment, not fully understanding what it means. He looks to me once more, probably for the last time, asking for an explanation.

"It's your official release from the institution. No more drop in visits, no more eyes on you 24/7, and soon you won't have to continue with the prescribed medication, although when that happens they will send someone once in a while to check up and make sure you're ok without them."

Yunho nods but it is a rather sad and pained nod.

"So this means you won't be seeing us any longer?"

I inhale deeply and nod.

"This was a temporary thing until you got better Yunho. After all....I was only the doctor assigned to you."

It hurt me to say that as much as it probably hurt him, as much as it'd hurt Jina to know I wouldn't be coming back anymore.

"Can't we at least be friends?"

I hated seeing those puppy eyes of him practically beg me, signature trait he passed on to his daughter.

"That would be completely unprofessional of my part Yunho. I deeply cherish and treasure all the time we spent together and I'm beyond happy and satisfied that you've come so far since the start of our journey..."

I sighed deeply.

"But every journey has an end." He finished my sentence.

Extending his hand out to me, I took it and gave it a firm shake.

"I'm really going to miss you." He admitted.

"Me too. Me too."

Going over to the momentarily forgotten 4 year old, she let out an 'oof' when she suddenly found herself cooped up in my embrace.

"Take care of yourself and of your dad ok?"

I kissed the top of her head, her grinning face not registering that this might be the last time she ever saw me. Yunho walked me out the door and even escorted me all the way to my car. Always the gentleman, he held the door open for me. Before I could even get one foot inside, I felt a large hand grip my wrist. Turning to him, I was flustered when he suddenly pulled me close to him.

"Please don't leave. I need you....I..."

He looked conflicted with himself as he tried to finish his words. Taking a deep breath, he confessed:

"I love you."

My heart sank. He said the 3 words I hoped he'd never direct at me. Mainly because I was scared as he was. Don't get me wrong, Yunho is a wonderful man, and he truly deserves to be loved....

But am I certain that he has finally learned to love? Or is it because he feels he needs me?........

Only one way to find out.

❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃

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yinses · 4 years ago

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fractured kingdoms

| he made you a princess ... it was only right for him to play the white knight |

gojo satoru rating: t

a/n: so i had an idea. this is more of a premise for a potential series that will doubtfully be chaptered in order. i have terrible luck with that. more or less snapshots of this dynamic to see where it takes me. i always write best on new episode release days.

gojo satoru used to enjoy his job- hell he was practically born for the role of exorcising curses. as a first year, along with his fellow classmates, he thought he could change the world.

it was an optimistic goal that he never quite lost sight of but his mindset had changed over the years. having a best friend turn on an entire organization coupled with gatekeeping elders who should have died last century could do that to anyone's ambitions.

so when gojo accepted a case, he did it but the task was conducted his own way on his own time.

it was the least he could do for an institution who took advantage of his inherited ability.

he was already planning out his order for the little pastry shoppe around the corner as he cleared a plethora of curses making themself home in the old abandoned fish packing plant. the acrid and heavy atmosphere had cultivated a miasma of stupidity it seemed, enticing the youth to come seek out nonexistent mysteries and claim their own death instead.

proclaimed haunted grounds like this were always prevalent breeding grounds for the weaker lot who couldn't chance hunting alone. the pack mentality made them look stronger than what they were.

it was all just troublesome work for him.

gojo quickly surveyed the mess that lay before him- bodies broken beyond identification. showing them to the morning families would only increase the amount of negative energy already floating around the area. it would be better to just shut down the perimeter completely for proper purging.

that was something ijichi could manage.

his hand twitched for his pocket to order such when he felt a lingering weight of cursed energy. this essence wasn’t like the others- in fact he didn’t recall even noticing it until now.

with a huff he slouched into a relaxed stance, infinity tightening around his body, “now, now. let’s not make this harder for ourselves. i have a tight schedule after all.” if he was lucky, he could make two stops instead of his scheduled one. he’d like some nice bobba tea to go with his treat.

gojo waited a moment longer, willing to make it fair for once. but then nothing happened. these might be his least favorite curses, those born from cowardice.

he fingered the edge of his blindfold in contemplation. taking it off may be overkill, but something about the situation insists upon it. intrigued by the shift, he pulls the material down to his chin and takes in the factory in its entirety.

for a second there was nothing. then blue eyes flicker upward.

“oh wow. pretty, pretty.”

something in the rafters rustles, and a small thud sounded to his right as a figure landed gracefully less than a foot away.

it was daring, to say the least. most curses avoided his aura, not willing entered it. but the most unsettling thing was that it spoke.

the level of cursed energy emanating from the form did not match with the intelligence it was portraying. it could be mimicry, a set of learned phrases used to trick and lure. but even known when and how to use them-

not to mention they’d commented specifically on his eyes.

“it’s rude not to thank a lady when she offers a compliment.”

gojo couldn’t resist turning at that.

it was a lady; perhaps more correctly a girl- possibly in her early twenties. there were no errant limbs or monstrous editions. she looked normal, almost human. maybe even an amateur sorcerer if he’d just focused on the energy she emitted.

a low grade shaman may have actually mistaken her for one.

that would have been a shame.

gojo brought his hand over his heart in an apologetic gesture,” sorry, it was your own beauty that stopped me short.”

her lips pulled back and the white of her teeth sent a thrilling chill down his spine.

how interesting indeed.

he motioned vaguely to the remains,” am i to assume this was your court?” curses congregating deceive humans was one thing, but to kneel to a higher authority.

an unregistered special grade.

that would be problematic.

her eyes raked over the scene with disinterest,”oh that shit show? as if i would associate myself with them.”

“well that’s not very nice. most princess have better opinions of their subjects.”

her smile widen. oh, she liked that.

gojo carefully braced himself to remain undeterred as she took a casual step forward. instincts urged him to eliminate it on the spot but curiosity begged him to learn more.

as if she felt his hesitancy, she stopped. “princess, huh? will you kneel for me too?”

he laughs at that, “oh i don’t think my superiors would appreciate me doing that.”

there is a brief period of silence and gojo waits with baited breath for the fighting to start. she was obviously retaining her cursed energy, eventually it would overflow to its true capacity. part of gojo actually would regret silencing this one, it wasn’t often that they were this interesting.

when it appeared that she wasn’t going to make the first move, he sighed,” well, unfortunately this has gone on long enough-”

“what kind of sweets do you like?”

gojo blinked dumbly.

“ah, that depends, i suppose. there is this really nice bakery not far from here that makes great manju.” his next destination after he got rid of this curse. why was he even drawing this out? he didn’t feel particularly compelled or threatened, to be frank.

“i’ll have to try it then!”

gojo is left to stare at the palm extended outward.

“can i have money please?”

⚘ ⚘ ⚘

against his better judgement, gojo offers to buy them for her instead.

seated across from the curse, he watches her quietly as she ate through two orders with ease. he also watches the floating civilians around her. not all human were immune to curses, occasionally one with a weak sense would notice something.

but the clerk didn’t miss a single beat when taking her order.

“um… are you going to eat that?”

gojo looked down at the reason why he’d come out this far in the first place and back to the empty plate in front of him. he didn’t think twice before giving her third serving in the last twenty minutes.

“how interesting.”

she looked up mid bite,”wha?”

curling his fingers into a fist to lean into, gojo gave her his full attention,” do you know what you are?”

“well, i’m a girl. opposite of what you are,’’ she explains snidely. for someone who had been given a free treat, she was a bit of a brat.

more importantly, gojo wasn’t detecting any blatant evasion in her speech. it … wasn’t possible for her to actually believe that she was human. perhaps she could be a misguided curse, but what mortal girl would hang out with such monstrous friends. she hadn’t even denied their existence in the factory.

gojo decides to cut to the chase,” we both know you’re not a regular girl.”

she brings the fork to her mouth,”i thought we established that i was a princess?”

oh, this was bad. gojo really should have just finished her before. he should not have invested this far. and certainly should not have bought her mangu.

the only thing worse than an unorthodox gojo, was one equipped with a fresh idea.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo blessings

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stovetuna · 4 years ago

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This is for @bardingbeedle who yelled at me in the tags and then on messenger and ultimately inspired me to write some “lorge soft steve” and tbh who am I to refuse. (also high-key inspired by this masterpiece of fanart I RBed [again] earlier today)

(takes place shortly after the events of Avengers Assemble episode 2x07, aka the best fic none of us ever wrote)

(heed the READ MORE!)

***

Tony is hustling from one meeting to the next, all but literally running into the kitchen for a cup of afternoon coffee, when he spies Steve Rogers bent over the communal living room coffee table. That in and of itself isn’t exactly outside the realm of normal Steve Rogers activities—the man does love a good brood, even if he won’t admit it and doesn’t do it as often as he used to.

But Tony wracks his brain for possible reasons why Steve would be hunched up around the shoulders like he’s expecting a body blow any minute and keeps coming up empty. Not even fresh coffee makes his synapses fire faster. Did they forget his birthday? Impossible. Did someone send Captain America hate mail? Uh, doubly impossible, especially because Tony’s got lawyers screening their mail for that kind of stuff (they’ve got more than enough pressure in their day-to-day lives, time-slip dinosaurs and age regressions notwithstanding).

Maybe Steve found a piece of upsetting news, or some fact of modern history that isn’t sitting well with him? That’s a lot more likely.

Before he can remind himself that Pepper’s waiting in his office to put him on a call with the president of MIT—something about a commencement speech, if memory serves—Tony is sauntering into the living room, nonchalant, tongue already prickling with some smart remark. He’s got it all written out in his head like a perfect line of code up until the moment he’s standing in front of Steve and sees the expression on his face.

“Whoa, who ran over your puppy?”

Tony winces, wishing for the millionth time that his mouth and his brain could work together simultaneously, but no. Worse, Steve doesn’t even answer him—he just frowns harder, if that’s even possible, and folds in on himself like his shoulders alone don’t take up half the length of the massive couch. Tony lowers the hand holding his coffee and blinks.

“Steve?”

“Oh!” Steve jumps upright, and quick as a flash moves something vaguely folder-shaped behind his back. “Tony! I didn’t hear you walk in—don’t you have a meeting right now?”

Something in Tony’s chest squeezes at the sight of that smile and at Steve’s impeccable attention to detail. But really, ever since the incident with the Time Stone, when he’d jolted back into his adult body and come to in Steve’s arms, he’s felt completely knocked off-balance. Now everything about Steve Rogers—the man, not the superhero—is a revelation. Every smile, every word, every look has Tony tripping over his own feet, tongue, thoughts. He may be back in his adult body, but he’s never felt more like a prepubescent teenager with a crush, fidgeting in place under Steve’s gaze.

“It got postponed,” he lies, because whatever has put that pinch between Steve’s eyebrows is way more important right now. “What’s up?”

“Nothing!” Steve replies, too loud and too quickly. Tony gives him a look. Steve flushes, shrinking in on himself even further, like he wants the couch to devour him. “Uh, nothing important. Just an anniversary I forgot about.”

Now it’s Tony’s turn to frown. He likes to think he’s got a solid mental calendar of important dates for all of his teammates memorized at this point—Natasha’s move-in, Bruce’s lab incident, Sam’s SHIELD acceptance, Steve being found in the ice—but none of those are today.

“Got room for one more?” Tony asks, nodding at the scant space next to Steve on the couch when the man gives him a questioning look. Steve’s cheeks immediately go a charming shade of pink, which churns the coffee in Tony’s empty stomach with a vengeance. Steve shifts to press himself against the arm as Tony moves to sit down next to him, almost crushing the folder Steve had hidden earlier in the process. There’s a gasp, and a lightning-quick hand, and then Steve, pale and breathless, is holding a manila folder against his chest like it’s the secret to the Super Soldier Serum.

It’s weird—Tony knows Steve trusts him, and vice versa. They wouldn’t have solved the riddle of the Time Stone if they didn’t trust each other. So to sit next to Steve, who’s gone from morose to terrified in the three minutes since Tony walked into the room and feel a wall between them is jarring. And upsetting. He’s only been nursing this crush for a few days, and Steve’s not that perceptive…is he? Maybe he is. Maybe this is Steve weeding out Tony’s feelings before they’ve even had a chance to grow.

Tony shakes his head at the thought. No, Steve’s a lot of things, but cruel isn’t one of them.

“Care to share with the class?” he asks, gently so he doesn’t spook Steve. It seems to work: Steve relaxes, tension falling from his shoulders as he eases into Tony’s presence. He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, but keeps the folder pressed securely against his sternum. Tony tries hard not to steal a glance at the way Steve’s shirt pulls across his broad, thick chest as he breathes.

“It’s nothing.”

“Cap, if it was nothing, you wouldn’t be trying to Honey-I-Shrunk-Myself into the couch right now.”

Steve Rogers in active wear doesn’t cut quite the same figure as Steve Rogers in full Captain America regalia, it’s true, but that doesn’t mean he’s small. Like this, he’s just as large and has just as much presence as he does in uniform; it’s just…more human. Less Captain, more Steve. Both are devastating in their own way, but only Steve—friendly, blushing, awkward, unassuming Steve—makes Tony acutely aware of the distance between their bodies, down to the last electrified hair.

Catching his own breath, Tony puts his full mug on the coffee table and drops his hands into his lap, turning his head to watch Steve chew on whatever words are fighting to come out. Be patient, he tells himself. Whatever this is, Steve’s struggling with it, and Tony can have some tact when he wants to.

Finally, Steve closes his eyes and sighs. When he lowers his hands, the folder goes with them. Tony glances at the cover and almost swallows his tongue.

“Is that—?” Steve makes a noncommittal sound, like a ‘yes’ but softer, uncertain, like he’s not sure Tony’s reaction is a good one. Tony swallows his excitement with a wince. “Is that the Project Rebirth file? I told Fury to give it to you a long time ago, but I wasn’t sure he did.”

Tony is so preoccupied looking at the folder he doesn’t hear Steve’s gasp or notice his eyes lock onto him. “He did,” Steve replies quietly after a pause. “But that’s isn’t…that’s not what this is about.”

That’s kind of a surprise. The sudden appearance of the Project Rebirth file would explain Steve’s face and body language, but if it’s not that…

Steve hands the entire folder over to Tony without another word.

“Uh,” Tony gapes, too awestruck to achieve any kind of higher brain function.

“Look at the date,” Steve says. It’s not an order, just a gentle request, but it doesn’t prevent a shiver from rippling down the length of Tony’s spine. If he was hyperaware of the space between their bodies before, it’s even worse now with Steve leaning every-so-slightly toward him and reaching out a hand to point directly at the date written on the faded label.

22 June 1943

Tony blinks. “It’s the anniversary…of you?” He opens the folder without a second thought, and the first thing he sees is a picture of Steve. There are other things in the file—sheaves of what look like medical reports, heavily redacted memos, and carbon copies of typed letters—but the only thing Tony can focus on is Steven Grant Rogers circa 1943. The Steven Grant Rogers of before.

He’s touching the photo before he can stop himself, being so, so careful as he traces the narrow shape of the man in the photograph while the real, supersized thing sits next to him.

“It’s the first time I’ve really had a chance to sit and think about what it was like, before,” Steve says, unprompted. “Everything happened so fast once I got the serum, I didn’t have time to just…take it all in. And then I went into the ice and—well. You know the rest.”

All skin and bones, this man, back then. But the jut of his jaw is the same; the serum didn’t change that, or the flinty stubbornness in Steve’s eyes, or the proud set of his shoulders, just daring the world to try and fuck with him. Tony smiles—Steve before the serum is like a matchstick, short and thin and always one spark away from bursting into flame. He really didn’t change a bit.

When Tony finally looks up from the photo (not gazing, of course not), he sees Steve’s expression has gone pinched again, his arms now crossed in front of his chest.

“Alright, there’s that face again. Out with it, Cap.”

Steve really shouldn’t bite his lip—it’s bad for Tony’s health. But Tony’s comment does get him to smile a little bit, which is good. “I guess…it’s been over seventy years since I got the serum, but most days I still feel like that skinny guy in the picture.” Tony watches him as he speaks, taking in the faraway look in Steve’s eyes, the shrinking posture, the downward turn of his mouth—who says I can’t be observant, Tony thinks—and wishes he and Steve were the kind of friends who hugged outside of catastrophic cosmic events. God knows it looks like Steve could use one, as wound up and tense as he is right now.

“I’ve broken so many things by accident because I keep forgetting I’m this, now,” he says, gesturing broadly at himself with one hand. Frowning, Steve uses that same hand to brace his forehead, elbow dropping down onto his thigh. The man is the picture of misery, and Tony aches to comfort him. It’s a physical pull in the pit of his stomach, urgent and needy—like if he doesn’t get his arms around Steve Rogers right this second, something important inside him is going to malfunction.

Tony shoves his hands under his thighs and nods. “Dr. Erskine could turn you into a super soldier,” he says softly, “but he couldn’t erase the first 27 years of your life.” He doesn’t speak his next thought aloud—that if there was in fact a way to erase those years, Tony would have signed up for the very first clinical trial. It’s a grim thought, and not something Steve needs to hear right now, but it’s been on Tony’s mind ever since his brief return to adolescence, and it’s a hard one to shake.

But what Steve heard seems to help. He peeks at Tony through his fingers and swallows loud enough even Tony can hear it.

“Yeah,” he rasps, “something like that.”

“What else?”

“What?”

“What else is bugging you? About this?”

Steve lowers his hand and stares at Tony. Stares. It’s such a feeling, being stared at by Steve Rogers, Tony can feel the heat climbing up from underneath his t-shirt. Even the arc reactor feels a bit warmer in his chest.

“How could you tell?”

“You’re still doing your level-best impression of a Shrinky Dink, Cap,” Tony replies. “Kind of hard not to notice.”

“I have no idea what that is,” Steve laughs, a hoarse, dry sound, “but you’re not wrong. I guess…I don’t know. It’s hard to put into words.”

“Try.”

Seriously, when Steve looks at him like that—like he did when Tony soared through the air as Iron Kid, all awe and pride and warmth—Tony feels capable of anything. Anything. He’d bottle that feeling, if he could, just like he’d bottle the color of Steve’s hair in the afternoon light coming in through the living room windows right now, all warm, pale yellows shot through with gold. If the photo in the file were in full color, Tony would bet his fortune Steve’s hair would be the same shade it is now.

Because Steve Rogers has always been perfect. Damn him.

“I still feel small,” Steve says, and any thoughts of hair and perfection derail abruptly. Looking into the middle-distance past his nose, he continues, “I don’t fit in this body. That doesn’t make sense, but—it’s like the super soldier is a mold, and I’m just there rattling around inside it, too small to fit. Does that—does that make any sense?” He looks at Tony imploringly, begging him with his eyes to understand. Tony feels that tug again, worse now, to wrap his arms around Steve and hold him tight. Call it returning the favor for the other day with the Time Stone, call it acting on his crush, whatever.

No one so large has ever looked as small as Steve Rogers does right now.

“It does,” Tony croaks.

“Really?”

“Really. I mean, how do you think I feel inside the suit?”

Steve makes a sound at that—not a whimper, not a gasp, but something hovering between the two that splits Tony’s heart right down the middle. “I never thought of it that way,” he whispers. “But that’s it. That’s exactly it.” Visible relief fills Steve’s lungs and makes his entire body go lax, leaning closer to Tony in the process. Tony, of course, is hyperaware of Steve’s size—everyone except Thor and Hulk is small compared to him—but now he’s equally aware of who’s operating the Cap-suit, so to speak.

“The only difference is, I can take my super-suit off,” Tony says, pinching the underside of his own thigh to cut off a laugh—Steve hasn’t seen The Incredibles yet—and continues, “you can’t. That’s bound to make a guy feel uncomfortable, even you, Mr. ‘I can handle anything you throw at me.’” He elbows Steve a little, good-naturedly, for emphasis, and gets a full, beautiful smile for his efforts.

God. Skinny or huge, Steve Rogers is gorgeous. It really shouldn’t be allowed.

“Yeah, good point.” Face still split by a smile—I put that there, Tony preens—Steve leans against the back of the couch and sighs. “There are things I miss, though. About being small. I didn’t think I did, until…” He glances at Tony, then, and there’s no missing the blush creeping up his neck.

“Until?”

“The other day,” Steve replies. “When you de-aged, and I—when we—” Tony bites his tongue so hard he’s pretty sure he tastes blood. Don’t interrupt. Let him get it out. Steve laughs breathily. “When I hugged you, I was so glad I was in a position to protect you, physically, like that. But later on I kept thinking about how much I miss being the protected one, sometimes. Not always, but. Sometimes.” Steve looks at the photo and sighs. “I keep thinking about what it felt like when ma looked after me when I was sick, or when Bucky put himself between me and the bigger guy because he knew I couldn’t take another hit…sure I resented it a little, being so weak, but I liked…that.”

“You liked being cared for.”

The look Steve levels at Tony could drive away a storm.

“Yeah,” he husks. “I did.”

“And now that you’re—” Tony waves a hand at Steve’s everything, “—this, you think you don’t, what, deserve care?”

“Maybe?” Steve blinks. “I don’t know.”

“Cap—Steve,” Tony says, putting his hands palms-up in his lap so Steve can see all of him. No threat, no judgment. “Everyone wants to feel cared for. It’s human nature. And just because you’re superhuman doesn’t mean you’re inhuman.”

Damn if those therapy sessions Pepper forced him into aren’t paying off big time right now. If the sheen in Steve’s eyes is anything to go by, Tony’s hit the nail right on the head.

“Oh,” he breathes.

“Yeah,” Tony smiles. Butterflies be damned, he moves the project file onto the coffee table next to his now-cold mug and turns toward Steve. Slowly, he opens his arms. “C’mere,” he says, so quiet only Steve would hear if anyone else was around. As it is, they’re alone in the tower, and Steve doesn’t hesitate—one moment Tony’s arms are empty and the next he’s got 240 pounds of solid muscle curling into his chest and Steve’s tucking his big head under Tony’s chin like the world’s neediest Bernese mountain dog.

Thankfully, Tony’s arms are just long enough to fit all the way around Steve’s massive shoulders. And even if they weren’t, he’d find a way to make it work.

Knees knocking together, feet brushing up against each other on the carpet, Steve shifts and adjusts until he can wrap his arms around Tony’s waist. Once he settles in, he sighs right into the notch at the base of Tony’s throat. “Thank you, Tony.”

“Anytime, big guy,” Tony replies, softly with a warm smile he thinks Steve can’t see.

#bardingbeedle #steve rogers #tony stark #pre-getting together #stevetony #stony #stony fic #superhusbands #rachel writes fic #HAPPY JUNE 22 #KINDA #ignoring the fact that I'm posting this at 0130 on June 23 :3 #insecure steve rogers #insecure tony stark #tony and I see the same therapist lol #stovetuna writes #and yes 22 June is apparently the MCU date of Project Rebirth #PERFECT TIMING

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chicgeekgirl89 · 3 years ago

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The Way Our Horizons Meet: Chapter 4

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: T.K. Strand, Carlos Reyes

Summary: Carlos' perspective through the aftermath of T.K.'s shooting. Follows the events of episodes 1x08-1x10.

A/N: I had a few requests to write T.K. and Carlos’ conversation about what happened in New York. Hopefully I did it justice!

CW: Mentions of past drug use, overdosing, suicide (just mentioned, not attempted)

Read Chapters 1-3 on AO3

Carlos woke slowly in the morning. Sunlight streamed in through the curtains and he frowned trying to get his bearings; usually he was up before the sun, even on his days off. He liked to get a workout in early, before the day had really started. He shifted in the bed, wincing when he realized his left arm was full of pins and needles.

Blinking his eyes open fully he came face to face with T.K.’s sleeping form. Carlos’ mouth slowly curved into a smile. It had been a long time since he’d woken up to someone else in his bed. Even longer since it had been someone he really cared about.

Carlos watched him for a moment, just taking it all in. T.K. was lying on his back, mouth slightly open, chest rising and falling slowly. Last night had been…perfect, was the word that came to mind. There had been nothing between them anymore, nothing standing in the way of their feelings for one another, and they had spent many hours making that clear.

His arm was trapped underneath T.K.’s pillow, hence the numbness running all the way up to his shoulder. He didn’t want to wake his sleeping boyfriend (wow it felt good to call him that), but his arm was starting to tingle painfully. Slowly he attempted to ease it out from under T.K.’s head. Despited his best efforts, T.K. immediately began to stir, inhaling sharply and opening his eyes. “Hey,” he said, voice rough with sleep as he rolled onto his side to face Carlos, allowing him to free his arm completely.

“Hey,” Carlos said fondly, flexing his fingers as feeling began to return. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“That’s okay.” T.K. smiled sleepily.

“Did you sleep all right?”

“Mhmm,” T.K. said as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Carlos’. “Did you?”

“It was…the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a while,” Carlos said honestly.

“Well,” T.K. grinned lazily at him, “we were pretty enthusiastic when we got back here last night. You were probably exhausted.”

Carlos grinned back, running a hand down T.K.’s side, resting it on his hip as memories of the night before flitted through his brain. They’d had to get a little creative considering T.K.’s stitches situation. He didn’t seem any worse for the wear though. “I think I was.”

T.K. looked a little more awake now, his eyes glinting with that look he got when he wanted something. Carlos liked that he knew what so many of T.K.’s different looks meant now. “Are you still exhausted?” he asked, voice low.

His fingers trailed slowly down Carlos’ spine, causing him to shiver. “Not in the least.”

“Good.” T.K.’s mouth was on his in an instant, hungry, searching, and Carlos lost himself in the kiss as they picked up where they’d left off the night before.

It was an hour later that they both lay in the bed, T.K.’s head pillowed on Carlos’ chest. “I like waking up with you,” he said quietly.

T.K. didn’t say anything for a long moment and Carlos felt the certainty and bliss of the last few hours stutter in his chest. He thought they’d finally been on the same page, but maybe…

His hand fell back to the bed as T.K. abruptly sat up, determination on his face. The sheets twisted around his waist as he crossed his legs and looked seriously at Carlos. “I want you to know what happened in New York.”

Carlos pushed himself up on his elbow, reaching his free hand out to touch T.K.’s knee. “You don’t have to. There’s no pressure. You can tell me now or never, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“I know,” T.K. cupped Carlos’ face in his hand and stroked his thumb across his cheek, his gaze fierce. “And that’s why you deserve to know. If we’re going to give this a shot, you should know everything.”

“Okay,” Carlos said softly, mentally bracing himself. Based on what little he did know, he didn’t think this would be easy to hear.

T.K.’s eyes fell to the bed as he collected his thoughts. “I had only been clean again for about six months when I met Alex. I was at a friend’s birthday party, testing my sobriety in a way I probably shouldn’t have been. Someone introduced us, and we hit it off right away. I realized later the whole thing was a setup. But I was okay with it because Alex was charming and fun and I was so desperate to get my life back on track. He was stable, had a good job, knew where he was going in life; he was everything I wasn’t.

“We were together a little over two years and it was good. We didn’t fight or have problems. I just…didn’t see who he really was until it was too late.” T.K. swallowed hard and twisted his fingers into the sheets. “I loved him. I really did. I wanted to marry him. I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with him.”

He laughed ruefully and shook his head. “My dad never liked him. My mom did, but my mom likes anyone I like. My dad…he didn’t say anything outright but I could tell. And even if he had said something I probably wouldn’t have listened. I’m uh, I’m kind of stubborn.”

“I’ve noticed,” Carlos said with a smile.

T.K. smiled sheepishly. “Yeah well, sometimes it’s for the better and sometimes not so much.” His face fell a little. “I had it all set up. Dinner at this fancy place, I was going to propose right before dessert. So cliché, but that’s what I was going to do.” T.K. gave a humorless laugh. “And when he got there I got so excited and I just couldn’t wait. I pulled out the ring and started to get down on one knee and he stopped me. Grabbed my arm and told me to sit down.”

T.K.’s jaw worked and Carlos could tell tears were near the surface. “Hey,” he said, sitting up so they were eye to eye. “Take your time.”

T.K. nodded gratefully and blew out a shaky breath. “He’d been cheating on me. With his spin instructor. They were in love. Now I wonder if the spin instructor was even the first. There were times he seemed distant, and then a couple months would go by and he would be all attentive and sweet again. I think there might have been others, I don’t know. I didn’t ask.

“I had never felt so stupid. Like it was my fault. If I had just been better, done more then he wouldn’t have had to cheat. And I should have seen it. I just wanted so desperately to tick all the boxes that proved I was doing the right thing in my life that I didn’t see any of the warning signs until after the fact.”

T.K. rubbed his hands up and down his thighs, no longer able to meet Carlos’ gaze. “I knew where to get pills fast. So I left the restaurant and I picked up some Oxy and went home. I didn’t even try to stop myself. I just did what I do best in a personal crisis: completely self destruct.”

Carlos’ heart picked up its pace. He knew where this was going, knew that this story ended with them here, together in bed right now, but that didn’t make it easier to hear.

T.K. cleared his throat. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself. I just…wanted it all to go away. The thought of being left, of not being enough…it eats away at you until it’s all you can think about.”

He shook his head. “I took a few and when that wasn’t enough I took a few more and then a few more. And the next thing I knew I was on the floor, puking my guts out, with my dad and his crew picking up my pieces. It wasn’t my first overdose, but it was the closest I’ve ever come to…if they’d been even a minute later…”

Carlos felt his throat growing tight. He’d come so close to losing T.K. before he’d ever even known him. The thought made him oddly protective. He wished he could somehow reach into the past and keep T.K. from ever knowing such incredible hurt.

“My dad didn’t report it, not the way he should have. If he had I would have been fired,” T.K. said, his voice breaking a little as he spoke. “He basically took control of everything and told me to pack my stuff. Because of me he uprooted his whole life and dragged us here.”

He looked up nervously, trying to judge Carlos’ reaction. “You know the rest.”

“You were right,” Carlos said softly. “That is messy.”

“It’s a lot, I know,” T.K. said quickly. “I just…I want you to understand why some things might be hard for me. I fell so hard and so fast last time and I can’t take risks like that again. My dad, he needs me, now more than ever. I can’t do anything to put my sobriety in jeopardy. And I realize this,” he gestured to the disheveled bedding and their naked bodies, “doesn’t exactly look like going slow, but as far as feelings and stuff like that go…”

“Hey,” Carlos put a hand on his knee, “I will never pressure you into anything you don’t want. We’re in this together.” He looked T.K. directly in the eye. “And I want to be really clear here; you can trust me. Always. It’s going to take time for you to see that, for us to build that trust together, but you can. And any mistakes I make along the way are mine and mine only, not a reflection of you.”

T.K. looked at him for a long moment, a hand coming up to softly touch Carlos’ face. “You’re so ridiculously perfect.”

Carlos shifted, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “That’s the second time you’ve said that.”

“Well it must be true then,” T.K. said with a smile.

“That is…incredibly sweet,” Carlos said. “But if this is going to work, you can’t put me on a pedestal like that. The only place for me to go is down.” He slid his fingers between T.K.’s. “You and I are the same; flawed, human. I am not some…god among men, now matter how much I might want to be. I have my stuff too. Which I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”

“You can’t possibly have baggage like I do,” T.K. said, leaning back against the pillows.

Carlos shrugged. “Yours might be more obvious, but mine could be worse. You have to watch out for the quiet ones, isn’t that what they say?”

T.K. raised his eyebrows and smirked. “You certainly weren’t quiet last night.”

Carlos threw a pillow at him, which T.K. easily deflected. Carlos shook his head, but he smiled. “That is not what we’re talking about.” His face grew serious. “If this is going to work you have to love me for who I am, not some idealized version of me.”

T.K. blinked at him for a moment. “Love you?”

Carlos’ cheeks flamed and he rushed to take back the word that had slipped off of his stupid, besotted tongue. “I didn’t mean—I—“

T.K. laughed. “It’s okay, Carlos.”

“No, I’m sorry. You just poured your heart out and I can’t keep my damn mouth shut—”

“Carlos,” T.K. leaned forward and kissed him, effectively cutting off his apology. “It’s okay.” He traced his fingers down Carlos’ cheek. “I may not be ready to say that word yet. But I am ready to be with you.” He brushed a kiss over Carlos’ nose. “And I like you,” he kissed his cheek. “Very,” his ear. “Very,” his neck. “Much.”

They were falling back into the bed again, limbs tangling, lips finding bare skin. They clearly had so much more to talk about, but for now, what they’d said was enough. If this was love, it would find them the time to take care of the rest.

#911 Lone Star #Tarlos #Tarlos Fic #T.K. Strand #Carlos Reyes #1x08 #1x10 #The boys are having some feelings #And sexy times #As per usual #The Way Our Horizons Meet #Chapter 4

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cybernaght · 4 years ago

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Lost Tomb Reboot aka Reunion: The Sound of Providence Season 2

I swear I wasn’t actually planning to write this thing, instead just opting for random picture spams of the season, starting with every time this show got Zhu Yilong’s Wu Xie wet, because that was a trend I had not expected and kind of lived for.

All that will still happen eventually, but here’s also my five cents on the season, because it is very very important for you to know just how worthy of love it is.

You see, Season 1 was silly and fun, and definitely, undeniably, enjoyable.

Then Season 2 swooped in, and completely won my heart. I cannot even express how much I adored it. Everything about this show is extremely extra in the best possible way; it is likely to have been the most charmingly over the top thing I have ever seen.

(Vague spoilers for : specific monsters, narratively significant moments, fate of the certain characters, including the protagonist.)

Some of it comes from the pace, which speeds up dramatically early in the season, and only slows down marginally to allow characters some breathing room. It’s not just gripping because it makes you want to hit play on the next episode, it also keeps you engaged because you can’t wait to see how the next wild set of events may be resolved and then topped. At about episode ten I was questioning how they could possibly produce a sense of further escalation. At episode twenty, I was wondering if anything can top dramatic impact of whatever was occurring only two thirds of the way through the season.

I need not have worried: every single incredible character moment, every mind-boggling turn of the plot, every single bizarre threat would be blown out of water by the next one.

Partly, this seemingly has to do with the writers attempts to ground the material. I am not sure what the novel contained, but I can discern that it was something along the lines of ghosts, ghouls and various supernatural circumstance. But when you are told “this is a curse”, your reaction is naturally to go, “ah okay, so curses are a thing, and this is one of them, gotcha”. When you are told, “this is a heavy metal poisoning combined with a neurotoxin affecting the victim’s central nervous system and making them violently hallucinate”, your reaction is to question whether this is how metals, toxins, poisons, or, indeed, central nervous systems work in any version of reality.

The show does this a lot. From human shaped swarms of killer moths, to flying brain-penetrating eels, to probably my favourite monster of the moment: the murder clams.

Seriously, I cannot stress enough that this show has murder clams. They move with their clam mussels. They jump with their clam shells. They will murder you in cold blood.

There are ancient “laser corridor” style set-ups, there are shapes made out of fog recording its memory, there are group hallucinations generated by the sound of thunder, there are Mission Impossible style full face masks. There is a character who walked off a gun wound and sarin gas poisoning in order to die in the arms of his lover who looks like his dead sister. And by “looks like” I mean, “played by the same actress”.

There is a whole character of Doctor Churros, who saves our hero from imminent death by washing his lungs with oil.

This, I suppose, ultimately, is how The Lost Tomb Reboot (Season 2 in particular) lures you in. It turns what I saw as the show’s fault in season 1 into its biggest strength by establishing the world in which nothing is too outlandish and everything is possible. It so thoroughly breaks your expectations barometer, you grow to willingly accept whatever is thrown at you.

The most beautiful thing about all of it, is that the fun and games and moments of barely controlled hysteria do not lower the stakes whatsoever. Moreover, somehow this show makes me believe that it could just about do something as irrevocable as, perhaps, killing off the protagonist

You know how you can watch, say, a super hero film, and then the “all is lost” moment happens, and you kind of have to struggle to care because you know that they will pull through. It’s curious to see how that happens, but you don’t doubt for even second that it will. Well, when that moment arrived here, I found myself between ugly sobbing, and going into speculation overdrive to try and figure out how the Reboot would deal with that. By then I have seen that show be an high octave action movie, a supernatural mystery, a horror thriller, a buddy comedy and a spy flick: it was not a massive stretch to imagine it turning into a revenge tragedy.

Wu Xie dying had been building up since episode one, so you had hours and hours and oh-so-many hours to brace for it, and when the tragedy does not strike, the relief is visceral.

Despite all the moments of hilarity (whether intended or otherwise), despite the chaotic turns of the plot, despite how utterly off the charts this show is tonally, when it matters, the narrative is pulled together in a way which not only makes complete sense within the world of the series, but is meticulously set-up, satisfying resolved, and delivers lovely emotional impact. Considering that the moral of the story is a very common “live in the moment”, paired up with “greed is bad”, it was surprising how much resonance its delivery actually created.

Ultimately, however, this show is about found family, and, more specifically, about Wu Xie’s ability to create this family for himself and for every single member of it. He starts as one of the trio, and ends as one of a large group of old allies, new friends, and people he has graced with so much kindness that they follow him until the bitter end.

Lost Tomb Reboot ensures that you get to know them all, and it’s pretty damn hard to not love this misfit group of adventurers in its entirety.

(The only thing I could say is that I wish the series spent more time making sure the viewer knows and likes Zhang Qiling, but it seemingly had little purpose for him apart form sweeping in as an avenging angel every now and then. I get that he is a well established character in the series, and that his whole thing is being deadly and enigmatic, but considering that you got to know the other two legs of the famous Triangle so well, it’s a shame that this one was reserved to mostly being Xiao Ge Ex Machina. It would have been nice to know what he was about apart from “really damn cool”.)

Bai Haotian remained my favourite character. She is cute, sweet, romantic, and, for the lack of a better word, “girly”. She is not shy about her crush on Wu Xie, and is prepared to do a lot of reckless, dangerous things for him. None of the above undermine her intelligence, cunningness and authority. Xiao Bai is a young woman in a position of power, and she absolutely knows how to handle herself; for every time she is a damsel in distress, she gets to be the rescuer. For every time she puts herself in needless danger, she learns to collect herself and plan ahead. For every time she is bossed around, she turns and takes charge. Her journey is not the centred around getting the guy, but around discovering her self-assertion; she finds her place within his team not by being a romantic interest, but through her personal strengths.

My absolutely favourite moment for her came when an antagonist used her affection for Wu Xie to get an upper hand on her, and she gets restrained, knife to her throat. Xiao Bai swivels away, knocks the attacker out and goes to town kicking him, to a great astonishment of this team, as she states that liking someone does not make her weak.

And it doesn’t. Being in love has nothing to do with weakness or strength. Being a young, and excitable, and a woman does not equate to weakness either.

I’m not saying that this show is a feminist manifesto, because it is definitely not that. Every other prominent female character suffers a pitiful fate in service of creating motivation for the men of the story. But it does spend a lot of time making sure you, the viewer, know its heroes well enough to mentally befriend them. And if this means giving the female lead complexity, I cannot possibly be mad at that.

So, this was it. This was the Lost Tomb Reboot. It brought me a ridiculous amount of joy and I will miss it a lot.

And yes, the picture spams will be 100% an excuse to rewatch at least some of it.

PS. Said spams miiiiight be gif based if I figure out a way to colour correct the damn things.

#lost tomb reboot #reunion: the sound of the providence #review of sorts #now with gifs #the gifs are bad though

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sapphosclown · 4 years ago

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you are the best thing, that’s ever been mine

[ID: 5 images showing pictures of Troy and Abed during the season 3 pillow war. The first image shows Troy and Abed standing in a face off from episode 13, Digital Exploration of Interior Design, looking upset with each other. The background is blurred and in black and white and Troy and Abed are in focus and color, but the saturation dimmed slightly, this format goes for the rest of the pictures as well. In between them read the lyrics “and i remember that fight 2:30 a.m.” in a white, messy font, the word “Fight” larger than the rest and in red.

The second image shows Troy holding back a crowd of people fighting each other while staring at Abed with an upset expression on his face, Abed is shown underneath him also holding back a crowd of people and looking at Troy with a similar expression. The background is blurred in more of a spinning way. To the right of troys head, lyrics read “when everything was slipping” and then to the left of Abeds head the lyric continues with “right out of our hands”. “slipping” and “hands” are shown in a red font underneath the words before them that are printed in white.

The third image shows Abed alone at the end of Pillows and Blankets, looking at the floor. Lyrics to the right of his head read “braced myself for the goodbye, cause that’s all i’ve ever known”. The word “goodbye” is in a larger red font in between the other two lines. Underneath the lyric is a paint splatter like shape that shows Abed, who looks upset, as he read the text messages Troy had sent to him the previous night, which are written in a small, basic, transparent white font over Abed’s face. Reading, “- Hey, dick. Read your dumb e-mail. Really enjoyed it.” “-Guess what? You may have been my best friend, but we both know I was your first friend.” “- And what I know, but you don’t know, because you have mental issues, is that you’re never going to have another friend.” “- Because NOBODY ELSE WILL EVER HAVE MY PATIENCE WITH YOU.” The last message is written in a red transparent font.

The fourth image shows only Troy at the end of Pillows and Blankets, having taken off his blanket crown and looking at the floor. Lyrics in the bottom left corner read, “then you took me by suprise”

The fifth image is in all black and white this time, but still with a blurred background and the only focus on Troy and Abed. They are in their Pillows and Blankets outfits still minus their hats and are doing their signature handshake, both holding pillows in their hands and looking fondly at each other. Lyrics in between them read “you said ‘i’ll never leave you alone.’” In a different, clearer font. The words “you said” are small and a slightly transparent white font and is above the next line, which is in a red font that goes across Troy and Abeds arms that are connected by their handshake. End ID]

#i think ab them to this song a lot if you couldn’t tell #i did skip one of the lines in the bridge here bc i couldn’t think of anything that would make sense with it #also this is the glee version idc what you think #also ik the first picture isn’t at 2:30am but that’s the lyric shut up #community #community nbc #community edit #trobed #trobed edit #troy barnes #abed nadir #mine #i’m still not entirely sure if i hate the font or not but whatever #ngl i like the paint splatter thing i think it’s funky #it’s also the line that hurts the most so 🙈

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drummergirl231-2 · 4 years ago

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I don’t even know what to title this.

I’ve been trying to come up with a title for I don’t know how long and now I’m legit crying because I can’t even figure out how to start this post... so this will have to do.

I’m not okay. I can’t keep up with all this and everything going on in my life. I feel like I’m strapped into a car on a collision course for a brick wall and I’m just frozen in fear anticipating the impact.

Everything has kind of been spiraling out of control in my personal life (if you want you can skip to the bolded headings for what’s relevant to this blog).

My parents - whom a lot of you know about from my GoFundMe - are moving from California to Tennessee. I can’t afford to stay in California so I have to go with them (though they insist my going with them is my choice and that I totally have other options... but whatever. At least I’ll be out of California).

If my job can’t transfer me, I’ll lose it just when I was going to get the most hours (and therefore money) of the year, but my parents refuse to wait until after Christmas to sell.

My grandma recently died and even though my grandpa (step-grandfather) invited us up to the house at one point, his horrible son met us on the porch and rudely refused to let us in, telling us his father wasn’t seeing anyone. Now that his horrible son has left, grandpa invited my uncle and aunt up, but not my parents or me, and my uncle said he’s going to do what he can to bring us what we want of grandma’s. I didn’t get to say goodbye to my grandma because her death was sudden, and now I’m scared I won’t get to say goodbye to the only grandpa I’ve ever known, either, because I’m moving to Tennessee and he’s 89 and has heart problems and I’m scared he’ll die of a broken heart in every sense. I’d have liked to say goodbye to the house, too. My grandma didn’t want a funeral. She was one of those “Don’t fuss over me,” types who fussed over all of us. I have zero closure in this situation.

I have to get ready to move but have no idea how/when/where to start. I’m terrified of the 4 day journey to Tennessee, trapped in an SUV with my parents and five animals, including my poor elderly cat, Kira, whose anxiety makes mine look mild. I have Misophonia and so many food allergies I can’t eat out so I don’t know how I’ll do food for four days. My parents say they won’t bring the camping stove for me to warm up my lunches. It’s like they never raised an autistic child.

Things have been crazy for “Kristen,” me, but losing my grandparents, my home, possibly my job, and moving far from any family or friends I trust aside... things haven’t been easy for “DG,” me, either.

As badly as I want to start a youtube channel about Autism, Misophonia, food allergies, gut health, emotional abuse, etc., I cannot find the answers no matter how much I google when it comes to the tech problems I’ve faced. And I’m not even sure when I’d be able to record these videos because my parents are almost never gone. And when they are it’s not for long, and I just want to relax, and breathe, and be in the living room, and talk and sing out loud, and do all the things I don’t get to do when they’re here for just a little bit. I stay in my room so much I feel like I’m a diver holding my breath and as soon as they leave I can surface and gasp for air.

Also, I’m getting more and more self-conscious about my acne and this one tooth I have that’s crooked because my mom has enjoyed commenting on them lately and it makes me kind of scared to share my face with the internet and last night I legit had a dream about trying to get these things fixed with more braces and foundation. Like what even I literally don’t care about this stuff when people don’t comment on it. Why do I have to be so sensitive?

Problem is, I am figuring out why. I’ve been doing so much research on Narcissistic Personality Disorder and narcissistic abuse to try to understand my parents and childhood and young adult years, that not only have I been able to identify it in my abusers, but I’ve found some traits in myself. And I’ve searched and studied and tried to see if I have it and after this inward witch hunt I have to conclude I don’t have Narcissistic Personality Disorder, but I have a few signs of vulnerable narcissism. Even if they’re not enough for a label, they’re definitely things I need to work on (things like hypersensitivity, victim mentality, sulking and shut down, self-sabotage, things like that... and now apparently vanity, but only when people frequently give me flack about my face). Trouble is I don’t know how to work on these because I have no mentor, no counselor/therapist, no pastor, nothin’. And most of the videos about Narcissism are about identifying it or surviving it as the victim, not growing past the traits, because full-blown narcissists generally don’t acknowledge their flaws and try to fix them. So I’m at this annoying and fruitless phase of “self-improvement” where I just frequently scold myself for my thoughts.

YouTube ambitions and flaws aside, I have people waiting for the next chapter of my fanfic, and no one’s been pushy or anything, but there’s this huge weight on me to write, write, write, but with everything else going on in my life I just feel stuck. Like my brain is just “NERP.” And I feel guilty, like I’m the biggest disappointment to people.

And then there’s this blog itself.

It’s begun to feel more like an obligation for me rather than recreation. Every week I dread the time after a new episode airs. I want to make posts at my pace, about what I want to talk about, like what I used to do.

But sometimes the link I get has a weird video player window that I can’t make the right size to make decent gifs, and sometimes I can’t even take screenshots because when I pause it it’ll have the play triangle in the middle of the screen and the bottom of the screen will get dark, or sometimes the link just stops working. So I wait for the episode to go up on watchcartoononline because that’s where it works best for me but in the meantime I’m missing out on the fandom being online and by the time the episode goes up I’m just like, “What if the post I make of this moment gets like zero notes because it’s already been giffed and talked about a million times and I’m late to the party? What if I’m disappointing everyone?”

I try to not post anything until I can post about the episode properly, and I’ve asked people not to send me asks or messages with episode spoilers until they’ve seen proof on my blog that I’ve seen the episode, but that hasn’t stopped them. I get spoilery asks anyway.

I get a link relatively quickly but mainly I ask for people to wait for proof I’ve seen the episode because I want a chance to get my own thoughts on the episode out first before people ask me about specific things or straight up demand I talk about what they want me to talk about on my blog.

For a couple weeks I even made all my posts and saved them as drafts first so real quick I could just post ‘em all in a row and get ‘em out, because I know the second I post one thing I’ll have everyone going “OMIGOSH SHE’S ONLINE,” and trying to send me asks and messages and I’ll be trying to juggle them all while trying to make more posts about what I want to talk about. I feel like I have to reply to those messages because if I don’t I’m scared they’ll see me make another post after they’ve sent their message and be like, “What the heck she’s online why won’t she reply to me?” So sometimes I’ll just stop posting and hope and pray they think they just missed me or something, which isn’t fair to them.

But then I’ll see something new on my dash - art from khionyohann, new screencaps for the upcoming episode that DuckTalks shared - and I’ll want to reblog it, but then I’ll think: “I can’t reblog anything... people will know I’m online then. And I still haven’t posted about the episode. I can’t do things out of order. They’ll think, ‘Why isn’t she talking about the new episode? Why isn’t she answering my asks? Why isn’t she replying to me?”

And by the time the episode gets posted on watchcartoononline (and as long as I don’t have a migraine and I’m not paralyzed with fear), I make my posts, but by then I feel like I’m super late and I don’t even know what the point is of me reblogging things anymore, if I even remember there were things I wanted to reblog.

My time here has become nothing but me trying to please people while simultaneously trying to hide from them.

So... blarg. All that to say, I’m closing my ask box for a while. And I’m sorry to disappoint people. I’m just so overwhelmed by everything right now. Extroverted thinking isn’t even a cognitive function that comes naturally to an INFJ! It’s utterly exhausting.

And while I do still want to do more posts about the latest episode, I hope you’ll understand that things are just crazy for me right now and I’m not in a good place. I’m trying to be okay and I’m trying to be so excited about an episode that I get motivated enough find ways to blog about it no matter what but I don’t have the energy. I want to reblog stuff, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I want to interact.

And for the few I consider true friends on here, please know I’m not asking you to leave me alone or anything. Just know I might not respond as soon as you message me... which, honestly, you’re probably all used to by now, but I still feel super guilty about it.

I just need to simplify my time on here a little bit because I’m not okay.

#personal post #probably the longest i'm-closing-my-ask-box announcement ever #is ask box one word or two when it's referring to tumblr?

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bitchesgetriches · 4 years ago

Link

On poverty:

Starting from nothing

How to Start at Rock Bottom

How to Save for Retirement When You Make Less Than $30,000 a Year

Ask the Bitches: “Is It Too Late to Get My Financial Shit Together?“

Understanding why people are poor

It’s More Expensive to Be Poor Than to Be Rich

Why Are Poor People Poor and Rich People Rich?

The Magically Delicious Intersection of Financial Discipline, Generational Poverty, and Marshmallows

Bitchtastic Book Review: Hand to Mouth by Linda Tirado

Gentrification: Artisanal, Small-Batch Displacement of the Poor

Coronavirus Reveals America’s Pre-existing Conditions, Part 1: Healthcare, Housing, and Labor Rights

Developing compassion for poor people

The Latte Factor, Poor Shaming, and Economic Compassion

Ask the Bitches: “How Do I Stop Myself from Judging Homeless People?“

The Subjectivity of Wealth, Or: Don’t Tell Me What’s Expensive

A Little Princess: Intersectional Feminist Masterpiece?

If You Can’t Afford to Tip 20%, You Can’t Afford to Dine Out

Correcting income inequality

1 Easy Way All Allies Can Help Close the Gender and Racial Pay Gap

One Reason Women Make Less Money? They’re Afraid of Being Raped and Killed.

Raising the Minimum Wage Would Make Our Lives Better

Are Unions Good or Bad?

On intersectional social issues:

Reproductive rights

On Pulling Weeds and Fighting Back: How (and Why) to Protect Abortion Rights

How To Get an Abortion

Blood Money: Surviving Your Period While Poor

You Don’t Have to Have Kids

Gender equality

1 Easy Way All Allies Can Help Close the Gender and Racial Pay Gap

The Pink Tax, Or: How I Learned to Love Smelling Like “Bearglove”

Our Single Best Piece of Advice for Women (and Men) on International Women’s Day

Bitchtastic Book Review: The Feminist Financial Handbook by Brynne Conroy

Sexual Harassment: How to Identify and Fight It in the Workplace

Queer issues

Queer Finance 101: Ten Ways That Sexual and Gender Identity Affect Finances

Leaving Home before 18: A Practical Guide for Cast-Offs, Runaways, and Everybody in Between

Racial justice

The Financial Advantages of Being White

Woke at Work: How to Inject Your Values into Your Boring, Lame-Ass Job

Econ Nerd Book Review: The New Jim Crow, by Michelle Alexander

Something Is Wrong in Personal Finance. Here’s How to Fix It.

The Biggest Threat to Black Wealth Is White Terrorism

Coronavirus Reveals America’s Pre-existing Conditions, Part 2: Racial and Gender Inequality

10 Rad Black Money Experts to Follow Right the Hell Now

Youth issues

What We Talk About When We Talk About Student Loans

The Ugly Truth About Unpaid Internships

Ask the Bitches: “I Just Turned 18 and My Parents Are Kicking Me Out. How Do I Brace Myself?”

Identifying and combatting abuse

When Money is the Weapon: Understanding Intimate Partner Financial Abuse

Are You Working on the Next Fyre Festival?: Identifying a Toxic Workplace

Ask the Bitches: “How Do I Say ‘No’ When a Loved One Asks for Money… Again?”

Ask the Bitches: “I Was Guilted Into Caring for a Sick, Abusive Parent for Years. Now What?”

On mental health:

Understanding mental health issues

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Our Master List of 100% Free Mental Health Self-Care Tactics

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Ethical Consumption: How to Pollute the Planet and Exploit Labor Slightly Less

I Have No Gift to Bring Pa Rum Pum Pum Pum: The Anti-Consumerist Gift Guide

Season 1, Episode 4: “Capitalism Is Working for Me. So How Could I Hate It?”

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Coronavirus Reveals America’s Pre-existing Conditions, Part 2: Racial and Gender Inequality

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toothlessturtle21 · 4 years ago

Text

You Are Worth It

Welcome back to me posting my oneshots on tumblr! This is the first one posted on my AO3 account, so if you remember it, wow, I’m impressed. TW: suicide mentions, mental health issues, implied depression. Takes place mid to end season one. Glaciershipping angst/fluff!

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Cole has always felt butterflies around the Ninja of Ice, but he has to suppress these feelings when he finds Zane so very close to the edge of the Bounty's railing, fingers slipping. While Zane reassures him it wasn't suicide, he can't shake the feeling that Zane isn't as fine as he seems.

It was the middle of the night, and winter's bite was still as potent as ever. Zane sat on the railing of the Bounty, looking down at the world below as the ship leisurely made its way through the skies. He probably should've felt fear from staring into the black abyss, but he felt oddly calm as he watched the faint shape of trees drift past. He exhaled heavily, eyes fluttering shut as he let the tranquil night engulf him.

Not that he knew it, but he was relaxing so much that he was unconsciously leaning farther and farther over the side, until his grip began to slip from the cold, icy railing, threatening to send the almost hypnotized ninja into the inviting darkness. It would have succeeded if it weren't for a certain ninja deciding to step outside for a breath of fresh air.

"Zane! What are you-!" Cole grabbed roughly at the back of the Ice Ninja's shirt, pulling him down from the railing. Zane, not expecting someone to yank him backwards, was thoroughly startled when strong muscles hooked under his arms, catching him with his legs still hanging over the side.

"Cole?" Zane tilted his head back to look the Earth Ninja in the eyes, Cole's brown eyes frantic and shiny with unshed tears, a rush of emotions all occurring at once inside his head.

"Zane, why were you up on the railing?" He asked almost hysterically, alternate realities where he had been too late flashing through his mind. All he could focus on was how his heart was pumping, the fear he felt when he had strolled outside to see his best friend so close to falling off the edge of the ship, so close to having to collect his remains from the jagged rocks and trees below.

"I couldn't sleep, so I was enjoying the view. Why?" Zane was confused when Cole breathed a sigh of relief, looking away to try and blink the water in his eyes away.

"I- I thought..." Cole trailed off, swallowing thickly as he gently helped Zane onto his feet, stepping away just incase. "You were leaning over the side, and you looked so at peace with yourself that I thought..."

Zane suddenly understood what Cole was implying, and guilt overwhelmed him at the thought.

"Cole, you know I would never," The Ice Ninja stepped closer to his leader, and the man nodded but didn't look too reassured.

"I just- I know how you were when we met you, Zane. I thought maybe you had relapsed, and I don't think I could stand watching you die," Cole swiped away a stray tear, and the Nindroid didn't know what to do. He approached his leader with caution, wrapping his arms around the man's bulky frame.

"I didn't mean to scare you..." Zane mumbled into Cole's shoulder, the latter being a solid few inches taller. Cole hugged back with more force than normal, reassuring himself that Zane was okay, and that he hadn’t been too late. He shoved down the butterflies that tried to crawl up his throat back into his stomach, where they lived every time he interacted with the Ice Ninja. They were slightly less present than normal, but watching your best friend and crush supposedly about to take a dive off the side of a railing would do that to you.

"I know, I know," Cole felt Zane burrow into his shoulder, and at this action, the ill feeling in his stomach returned, this time with full force. He was so close to the Ice Ninja, he could feel his power source buzzing right below his right pectoral, nuzzling into his rib cage. It wasn't a heartbeat, but to Cole, it didn't matter. The Earth Ninja sunk down slowly, keeping the Ice Ninja encased in his arms.

"Are you alright?" Zane asked earnestly, turning his head to the side so his forehead rested under Cole's chin. "You aren't normally this... clingy."

"Sorry, is this too much?" Cole flushed, and Zane shook his head slightly, but didn't respond verbally. Cole rested his cheek on Zane's hair, which smelled of mint from the shampoo he used. The two sat in silence for a few minutes, neither of them daring to speak, both afraid. Eventually, Zane took a deep breath.

"Cole, you do know I would never abandon you all like that, right?" Zane pulled away slightly to look Cole in the eyes, and the Earth Ninja met his gaze for a moment before responding.

"No, I don't know that." He tightened his grip around the Ice Ninja, expecting the resistance that the Nindroid gave.

"I beg your pardon?" Zane bit, his eyes brimming with hurt. "How could you accuse me of being so selfish?"

"It's not selfish, Zane. You know that. I don't know what's going on inside your head, I don't know how much you're hurting. I wish I did, but I don't," Cole felt his throat closing with emotion, and Zane slumped back into him, the fight quickly draining. "I neglected you at the beginning, we all did. We all knew not knowing your family was eating you, but we did nothing. I know you still haven't fully recovered, I know that your "sick days" are spent crying locked in your room, but I haven't done anything," Cole was nearly sobbing by this point, trapping Zane in his grip to convince himself that the Nindroid was still here, still with him.

"You are right, Cole, the act of killing oneself is not selfish. My apologies," The Ice Ninja rubbed circles into Cole's arm in an attempt to sooth the man whose grip seemed to be tightening by the minute. "Cole, I may have my bad days, I will admit that. I have times where I would much rather lay in bed and work out my emotions than train, and I have days where I have trouble convincing myself that anything I do is worth it, that the connections I make are worthwhile. I wasn't aware that you knew of my worse times, however. I am sorry that I have caused you to feel so much pain for me."

"Don't apologize. I know you're hurting, and that's what worries me. What if you can't get yourself out of a rut one day, and you spiral too far down? I don't think I could live with myself if I let you torture yourself like that anymore," Cole buried his face into the Ice Ninja's hair, and Zane squeezed his arms a little tighter, bracing himself.

"The point of my telling you this is to explain why I am confident I won't commit suicide," Zane said rather bluntly, and Cole found himself flinching. "Every time, I convince myself that connections with the people around me are worth forming. I still crawl out of bed the next day to make breakfast, or to attempt to resume a regular eating pattern. My mind may still be hurting, but I try to break through it and come back to all of you. It may take hours or it may take days, but I pull myself out of the spiral. Life is worth it."

Zane took a deep breath, mentally steeling himself.

"You are worth it."

The two sat in silence as Cole processed this statement. There was no way, this couldn't be happening-

"Are you implying what I think you are?" The Earth Ninja lifted his gaze to meet Zane's bright blues, and they seemed to glow in the dark as Zane blinked slowly with a nod, his eyes shutting with a light squeeze as their lips met.

When Cole had fantasized about this moment, it had never involved such a heavy discussion leading up the occasion. He had imagined a sunset, light breezes tousling his teammate's hair as they confessed affections. Never had he considered that it would be incredibly late, cold, biting air tearing at their skin as they poured every unsaid word through their kiss. He tried to communicate how much he cared for the Ice Ninja, how much he desperately wanted to be there to help heal the Nindroid, make up for all the time where he could've been there but wasn't.

Zane had never really thought about it, accepting that whatever happened was what was destined to be. Even if he had, he would never have conjured the scene of being held tightly in the Earth Ninja's arms after reassuring his leader that he wasn't leaving, and that he never would. Something about it was so bare, so emotional that it had the Ice Ninja shivering, and it wasn't from the frost-bitten air. He hoped Cole knew that he wasn't angry with him, that he could never blame his family for how he felt. His bad days and his depressive episodes had nothing to do with the actions of his team, and he desperately hoped Cole realized that.

When they broke, Cole taking in huffs of air, they stared in silence as their minds caught up to their actions. Cole felt a blush rise as he realized that he had just kissed Zane. Zane had confessed that he cared for Cole deeply, enough to kiss him. Which he did. On the lips. The Earth Ninja gently leaned in for a peck, coaxing a pink tinge to appear on his companion's cheeks.

"So," Cole said roughly, voice raw from emotion. "I suppose we have a lot to talk about."

"Indeed," Zane nodded, leaning back to rest his head on Cole's shoulder. "Shall we head back inside?"

"Please," The Earth Ninja stood, shivering at the sudden lack of heat from the absence of the Nindroid's body. To his satisfaction, Zane slotted himself under Cole's arm immediately, not quite willing to let go yet.

"Do you want to sleep in my room?" Zane asked quietly, almost afraid to ask, but Cole smiled.

"Of course. I would have trouble sleeping on my own after tonight anyway," The dark-skinned man pressed a light kiss on the side of Zane's head, not able to sate his newfound desire for the Ice Ninja.

Zane didn't respond, but pulled Cole gently into his room, shutting the door behind them with a soft click. They both crawled in bed, Zane splitting his pillow stash with his companion as the Earth Ninja let out a sigh of pleasure from the warm blankets settling over him.

"First of all," Cole said in a half-whisper, voice gravelly. "Are we dating? I don't want to assume anything."

"I would say we are, yes. We are dating," Zane responded in a whisper of his own, almost uncharacteristically elated. Cole involuntarily grinned as Zane smiled, tucking himself to mold to Cole's chest. At least the spooning argument was solved.

"You have no idea how happy this makes me," Cole nuzzled into his boyfriend, the word rolling around his mind like a bouncy ball, pinging off every corner with unmatched energy. "How happy you make me."

"The feeling is mutual," Zane smiled, the two content with holding each other for what seemed like an eternity.

"Secondly, are we going to tell the others? They might say that I'm playing favorites," Cole snickered, and Zane made a noncommittal noise.

"I don't see why not, unless you can think of a real risk. I haven't perceived any information that would claim that they would disapprove on anything more than a joking scale."

"When're we going to tell 'em?" Cole yawned, the warmth from the Ice Ninja making him increasingly drowsy. "Tomorrow?"

"I have no issue," Zane let his eyes flutter shut with a content sigh, and the two whispered goodnights, arms wrapped around each other tightly with no intention of letting go.

#ninjago #ninjago zane #ninjago cole #glaciershipping #tw suicide mention #fanfiction #AO3 fanfic #ninjago fanfiction #ao3 #mental illness #getting together #first kiss #toothlessturtle21 writes

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