#you can consider it my coping mechanism for the fact that i have to see his ugly ass week after week

[m1ckeyb3rry]

the way i see it kaiser is kind of stuck in this state of constantly trying to prove his adulthood but the truth is that he’s one of if not THE most childish character we see in blue lock. niko is, what, four years younger than him??? and yet between the two kaiser is the one who acts more like a kid imo. i mean…his nonsense with isagi. the overall cringe. the swearing (“ex-fucking-cuse me part ___”). that one scene with the wine mom fit (complete with a glass of red). the obsession with psychology. the whole thing about thriving in malice and restriction and whatnot. i don’t think he ever grew up — and, in some sense, i don’t think he ever really left that jail cell, either. however i don’t like him so i won’t be considering this any further

[brujamala-aka-gigi]

tarot tea spill session ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 　.. 　 ˚　.　　

₊ ˚. ⋆☾⁺ 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 ༘ ೀ

{discussing the "you can't love others if you can't love yourself" argument... and reading tarots about it.}

As someone who has struggled with self-esteem, I was kinda took back by statements like that. "You need to love yourself first to love others", like what do you even mean I hate myself yet I still can love!!! And then I thought about it and realized that maybe the wording is not the best, but the idea of the message is right. A healthy sense of self love is pretty hard to get, you can lack it and still be able to feel love, receive love and nurture affective relationships. I think that the main problem about low self-esteem and relationships, is that having an unhealthy relationship with ourselves, can lead to having unhealthy relationships with others. Not because we are bad people or defective for having insecurities, it's not about being incapable to have nice relationships, its about the things our insecurities could fuck up about said relationships or the toxic dynamics we are willing to engage in due to insecurity. I won't go around pretending like healing your perceptions of yourself is a quick easy process that can be solved just by feeling hot and empowered, things that actually kinda help if your mind is in the right place, but my intention here is to share what tarots have to say about how we can make sure we are seeking love because we want to and not because we need to.

{dividers by: @anitalenia & @cafekitsune}{images from pinterest}

this reading is not conceptualized in an hetero-centric way, it is for the femme aligned people or people who are somehow in tune with their feminine energy.

pile one pile two pile three

.‧͙˚ *༓ scroll down for the readings ⋆ִ ‧͙⁺˚

✧˖°. pile number one 𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ ⊹

𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 ✧ 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 ✧ 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎

You might be expecting love to behave in a way that you consider coherent, almost as if there had to be some kind of logic behind affection, care, and feelings. This might be due to the fact that you keep yourself “under control” by rationalizing your own feelings, yet you are mindful of showing a comfortable amount of emotion with others, but not too much to the point where it makes you feel overly vulnerable or out of control. You might be slightly weirded out by people who seem to express emotion in a way that's explosive or feels disorderly. Although this might be a coping mechanism to maintain the structure and stability that keeps your impulses in check, I see that at some point you will begin to embrace a more genuine way of communicating your romantic needs and emotions. It might feel to you as if you are always expected to act and talk about love in a way that’s very mindful, very demure, instead of being honest about a more passionate nature you keep hiding away. I don’t think you are exactly an overly romantic lovesick person, but I do think that you actually enjoy romantic relationships, and you actually have the will and the tools to create a bond where vulnerability and honest communication allow for both parts of the relationship to be comfortable with being as intense about it as you need to. Also, you deserve the same care you give to others, but they won’t be able to provide it to you if you are not willing to communicate that need. You are not going to go off the rails for having noticeable emotional reactions or for being open about your struggles. There’s people and places where you might feel uncomfortable being emotional, but you are wise enough to know who is willing to put the effort into comforting you and allowing you to further explore that side of yourself. 

✧˖°. pile number two 𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ ⊹

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚗 ✧ 𝚜𝚒𝚡 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚞𝚙𝚜 ✧ 𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜

It seems as if you are still mourning what to you is a loss of your sense of self. And let me tell you, you did not lose yourself, you might have temporarily lost the ability to radiate your energy in a way that you felt was attracting the right things in your life. I think you are definitely being too hard on yourself about a perceived missed opportunity, nostalgia about romanticized parts of the past are messing with your sense of identity, and your sense of hope. At this time you are not capable of thinking outside idealized memories, you are blinded by feeling fragile and incapable of further change. These feelings clearly are not something that comes from your inner self, they have been internalized due to being imposed on you. Being so stagnated in the past makes you unable to focus on the actual opportunities that will come to you in the future, you know there’s a lot of positive things, people, and experiences that can come into your life, but you are unable to see them or accept that possibility as something that you deserve, as something that you inherently are capable of attracting. You need to trust yourself, and trust that centering your life around the brightest parts of yourself, your virtues, your abilities, your personal power, is the way to go. You are someone who is actually capable of radiating the sort of energy that brings emotional, spiritual and material abundance, but you are focusing on the wrong ideals, and not allowing yourself to take the protagonist role in your own life. The fact you bring a lot of value to others, doesn’t mean your own value depends on it. The beauty and the joy you have experienced before, is a direct result of your own capabilities and your own effort, make sure nobody makes you channel that energy in places where it’s not worth it.

✧˖°. pile number three 𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ ⊹

𝚜𝚒𝚡 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 ✧ 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 ✧ 𝚏𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜

Although you might feel more comfortable if you could prove people wrong, it's more necessary that you are able to move forwards from the situations that make you question your self worth. You don’t need to “conquer” your fears, your anxiety or your insecurities, you need to move away from them if they are a product of imposed ideas or learn to navigate the ones that come from yourself, in a way that allows you to grow without the need for intrapersonal or interpersonal conflict. At times it might seem as if you are incapable of deciding how things happen or how they go, chaos is actually quite difficult to walk through, but I see that you are highly capable of expanding your perceptions beyond what is deemed conventionally functional. At the moment, there’s not enough resources available for you to properly express yourself or to align with your higher self, but there’s subtle opportunities to thrive in harsh environments if you are capable of acting according to your own ideals instead of what your ego demands. I think you will find the peace of mind, and the appreciation you deserve when you understand that sometimes it’s not necessary to fight for the things you want. There’s nothing wrong with willing to work hard and to sacrifice, but it can become unhealthy to you if you’re always put in situations where joy comes only if there’s struggle. There’s a lot of meaning and value in things that come easy and naturally to you, don’t let others question it or take them away just because you are not “putting effort” to get where you deserve to be. Everyone deserves praise and admiration when they are as naturally preserving and nourishing as you are. Your excellence might make others uncomfortable and overly questioning of your success, don’t let their own self doubt become yours, and don’t engage in needing validation from sources that are not actually positive for your own self development.

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[warblogs17282]

Stolas within parties, and unhealthy coping mechanisms. (Featuring Blitz)

Let's start with a bit of concerning behavior in regards to the happy pills.

We see Stolas take two pills at the start of the day, the day where he's about to meet Blitz again for the first time in years.

But when we see Stolas again after the events of s1 e7? He takes three pills, so at some point between these two moments in time, Stolas upped his dosage, and honestly, my guess is that the of events of s1 e7 is the start of Stolas upping his dosage, although I don't have any evidence to support this. While this doesn't point to anything in specific, it's still behavior to be a bit concerned about.

The Parties and Problem Drinking.

One of the things that interested me the most was Stolas being able to call Verosika's party as being about 'mutual pettiness' so quickly, and that got me thinking about the similarities between the parties that Stella hosted, and the parties that Verosika hosted.

In this part, Stolas feels rather isolated in contrast to the rest of the party talking to each other and having fun, and it's also clear to see that Stolas feels uncomfortable as well. Both of these are obviously because of the fact he still has feelings for Blitz and has just generally been isolated his whole life, but it also shows us a noticeable parallel between this party and the ones that Stella would throw.

Stolas is isolated and uncomfortable yet again. Sure Stolas is uncomfortable at Stella's parties for different reasons, but there's still two links between them I can notice.

The first being the reasons why both parties have been thrown in the first place, and the second being Stolas' relationship with alcohol in regards to parties.

"Stolas, you know I like throwing parties!" This implies that Stella throws parties quite often, and considering how these parties are really just thinly veiled excuses to allow Stella to gossip and chat shit about Stolas to her friends while being right next to Stolas, it gives us another reason as to why Stolas is uncomfortable being at Verosika's party besides his feelings for Blitz and being isolated his whole life.

It's because one of the main reasons Verosika's parties were thrown was to shit talk and to antagonize Blitz, or 'celebrating mutual pettiness' as Stolas rightfully calls it. There's various other reasons why I don't exactly believe that the primary reason why Verosika threw the parties was to 'help others cope', that I've covered before. It's clear in her behavior both inside the party and outside the party (for example, s1 e3), that Verosika hated Blitz for what he did to her before. (I'm not claiming that Verosika isn't allowed to be angry at Blitz for that, but her behavior up to this point is 100% going overboard.)

Alongside the violence against the Blitz shaped merch and cakes (which I will cover in this post), we see Verosika openly insulting Blitz to the entire crowd, and we know that Stella would insult Stolas to her friends at her parties. So, it wouldn't surprise me if another part of the reason of why Stolas is so uncomfortable is because he's been in a similar situation before to what Verosika is doing with the parties in regards to Blitz.

So, another thing we know is that Stella uses physical violence against Stolas, as shown by the time she attempts to backhand him in s2 e1.

Guess what we see a whole bunch of during the party against the Blitz dolls? Sure it's a bit exaggerated with the knives and mallets etc, but it's still physical violence, so it's reasonable to assume another part of the reason why Stolas was uncomfortable at the party was because of his own experiences with physical violence.

"Plus, it's true, so you know you can come if you want." - Stella

"I felt it rude not to stop by." - Stolas

I believe that these two quotes point to a sense of obligation to show up and stay at the parties for at least a little bit regardless of if the party makes you feel uncomfortable. Like that Stolas felt like he had to at least make an appearance and stay for a little bit.

Which begs the question, why does Stolas stay so long at Verosika's party, despite saying "I really shouldn't stay long."?

Two interconnected reasons come to mind. The first being the fact that Stolas was already starting to get himself drunk at the start of the party, which just naturally leads to Stolas just drinking more.

The second reason is probably because of the song. Stolas was very much just thrown into the spotlight and told to sing about his relationship with Blitz, so I wouldn't be surprised if that indirectly pressured him into drinking more, something I cover in the next section.

I think something that we haven't really considered is the PROGRESSION of Stolas drinking in both parties.

Stella's Party: The party starts, Stolas naturally doesn't want to be there and feels uncomfortable, but most likely feels like he's obligated to stay and make an appearance, so he starts it off by drinking a little wine. Then the most difficult part of the day happens, Stella starts talking shit about Stolas to her friends, right in front of Stolas as well. So I assume in an attempt to make the party more bearable for him, he gets the strongest thing he can get his hands on and just starts chugging the bottle.

Verosika's Party: Stolas joins mid-way through, feels uncomfortable being at the party for a few reasons, but again, most likely feels obligated to stay for at least a little while to make an appearance, so he starts drinking from the cups a little. Then Stolas gets to a difficult and emotionally taxing part of the night, the part where he's basically thrown into the spotlight, and made to sing about his relationship with Blitz, around 23-24 hours after the full moon argument. So the emotions surrounding that are still very raw for Stolas.

After that point you see Stolas start drinking a lot more, starting to chug that cup. Plus, when Blitz starts talking to Stolas, he also starts chugging the bottle itself quite a lot, in what I guess was because he was already partly drunk by that point, and in what I think was an attempt to dull his emotions more to most likely make the night more bearable for him.

At least, I think that was the general thought process behind the progression of Stolas drinking in both parties. The scenarios between them both are quite different, but I still think that there's some similarities to be noted here.

So, in conclusion, I believe that part of the reason why Stolas has an issue with problem drinking is because of Stella's parties, and that there's quite a few similarities to be noted between Verosika's party and Stella's party.

Of course, I can't make a post on problem drinking without mentioning the time that Stolas most likely got blackout drunk after the events of s1 e7.

Blitz and Addiction.

Now, I wonder just how many of you thought the question of 'Why is Blitz so concerned about Stolas throwing it back like this?' and the answer lies in Blitz's history with drinking, and addiction.

Let's start with Blitz's father, Cash, it's implied that he's an alcoholic, both from the picture below and from the line "Remember how you used to distract my dad so I could steal his booze?", which tells us that Cash kept himself stocked up on booze all the time. So it shows us that Cash's likely alcoholism was always a part of Blitz's life, all up until Blitz left the circus.

There's also Barbie Wire who got addicted, although on a substance named H-8, instead of booze. We don't know exactly when Barbie Wire got addicted to H-8, but because Blitz says "Oh. Thank, Satan.", and the fact that Barbie Wire means a lot to Blitz, it shows that her getting addicted to H-8 most likely effected Blitz in some negative way.

Finally, Blitz has seen it again with Verosika, who is also an alcoholic, who went to rehab for it but got out because of her celebrity status. When she exactly became an alcoholic and went to rehab we don't know.

Something to note here is that, according to a study, addiction tends to run in families, and dialogue in the Queen Bee episode suggests that Blitz attended those parties Beelzebub hosts a lot in the past, because of this line "He-hey, I knew it was you! Fuck, man, where you been? You here for the party?" and "Come in and show us all up again.", implying that Blitz used to be a regular at her parties.

Plus, in truth seekers, Blitz admits to doing a lot of drugs in college.

The only times we see Blitz drink during this show has been in social settings, and sure while Blitz did invite Moxxie and Millie once on screen to a dive bar, that doesn't change the point I'm making at all.

So, what the show is trying to tell us is that Blitz did a lot of drugs and alcohol in the past, and nowadays he's not completely avoiding alcohol, but the only times he'll drink is in social settings.

Regardless of how bad things have gotten for him, such as Ozzie's for example, Blitz refuses to drink or do drugs at all, he just ended up having a cry session on the couch and just consumed ice cream. Compared to Stolas who dealt with everything by most likely getting blackout drunk.

I imagine that Blitz very intentionally limits himself on doing drugs and alcohol, because he knows so many people that have the issue of addiction.

[iz-star]

About Zayne's nightmares...

The most unrealistic thing about Zayne is that he's a functional working adult that seemingly has put his life together at 27 not because he's young or a prodigy but because he's said to have nightmares since he was 12?? Like... I feel like this theme might be a bit overlooked but just think about it deeply, having constant nightmares fucks your mind like really REALLY bad, I can genuinely say this by experience and also as someone who has had trouble to have a healthy sleeping schedule since I was at highschool (like, for example, right now, I should be sleeping instead of writing this...).

There was a time I would have nightmares almost everytime I went to sleep during a really hard time in my life. Of course, the topic about those nightmares was almost always the same, not like the nightmares repeated themselves but they always revolved about the same things that I was actually working in therapy at the moment. Back then I was jobless and medicated most part of the time, I was pretty dysfunctional.

I suppose that's why when I listened to "Fragmented Dreams" for the first time it was the time I said "Yeah, this is my man". I love how he's always nagging MC about sleeping early because I know by experience that not sleeping properly can mess up with your mind pretty bad, and probably he knows it too. It truly is a showcase of love how he worries about her sleep like that and it also showcases how strong minded he is for enduring too much stress and remind kind constantly.

I love how healthy he is. I like to think that he's overcome all the stressful stuff he's gone thru bc of his discipline and healthy life style, but realistically it would take him some more to deal with all of that.

Yes, all of the guys have been through some very rough stuff and they all need therapy, but my point with Zayne comes with the fact that not having a good sleeping schedule and on top of that having constant nightmares can mess up with your perception of reality and induce you a bad depression or other mental health issues. Everytime I remember Zayne's main story branch when they're trapped in Zayne's dream and MC leaves him alone and he starts listening to Willian, Georgie and his Mom so he has to remind himself "It's not real, it's not real" I deeply feel that and I just want to hug him so bad :(

I think I'd like to see a card where they explore the consecuences of their past in their psyche more deeply. I can't help remembering this post which was one of the first posts you unlock with Zayne:

It was there when I just knew that even if he looked quiet, he had a lot to say but didn't know how to express.

Another thing I'd like to highlight about this is that actually I love the emotional maturity that Zayne displays about dealing with such issues like nightmares, traumatic experiences and literally being exposed to see people dying 24/7 while being someone that feels a lot yet says little. He's dealt with this the best way he can, no wonder why he came to be quite serious and inexpressive or sarcastic. Not allowing himself to express other emotions than seriousness or sarcasm was like keeping himself in check so he wouldn't spill everything he feels and considering how stressing is his job already, it just makes sense, but that didn't mean Zayne didn't feel because he feels too much and too deeply and worries sick about ppl and especially about MC.

Of course, bottling up his emotions wasn't the best way to deal with them but he never used any unhealthy coping mechanism neither, like alcohol, for example (My teetotaler King ❤️) etc. Yeah, his workaholism isn't exactly healthy but not something toxic to his mind and relationships, and I've always had a feeling that he's a big foodie and addicted to sweets to give himself that boost of serotonine he needs so bad.

That's why he compares MC with sweets, being her his favorite dessert, bc she's brought all that serotonine to his life naturally and has helped him let go little by little. When he opened to her about losing Dulcie, I had a feeling that Zayne always wanted someone to listen to him but he didn't know how to ask for it and ppl around him was too afraid to even dare to suggest it. I think even in one of his anecdotes, it is said that sometimes Dr Noah wanted to tell him something but at the end ended up saying nothing.

The fact that Zayne bottled up his emotions didn't mean that he wouldn't willingly share them, he wanted to but wasn't used to it. With MC, he's slowy started to let it go and enjoy life more, allowing himself to be sad in front of her, to express his fears (about losing her) or to express his childish tantrums and indulge in his softest side. That's why also she's not only his favorite dessert but also his best painkiller ❤️

And just to finish, I've always thought this quote by Kafka fits him so well:

"Remember, you should sleep more than other people, for I sleep less than most. And I can’t think of a better place to store my unused share of universal sleep than in your beloved eyes."

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Jay Kuo for The Big Picture:

It’s been nearly 50 days since the soul-crushing election, and many of us are still in a bit of shock and experiencing continued denial. The headlines have been disturbing, to say the least, as they preview what the next four years could be like here in the U.S. and around the world. We are in dire need of some coping mechanisms. With 2024 drawing to an end, I figured it might be useful to compile some strategies and tips, gleaned from experts and from my conversations with many readers, on ways to survive these next four years, both individually and collectively as a democracy. These are in no particular order, and some of them may or may not resonate with you. I hope you nevertheless find them helpful and even practical.

Avoid the lure of nihilism

You feel it sometimes in your gut, and you see it in others’ comments: a sense of doom and despair. “There is nothing we can do.” “They will get away with everything.” “Nothing we can say will ever get through to the other side.” “Face it, it’s the end of our democracy.” Let me first say that anyone who hasn’t indulged in even a bit of this thinking hasn’t been paying attention. Things are bad, and in fact quite bad. So it’s perfectly natural and human to entertain these thoughts. But we can’t remain stuck in such thinking. So I want to offer some perspective from a great man who has seen and overcome many great challenges in his life. I worked for years with the actor and activist George Takei, who spent his childhood in Japanese American internment camps during World War II. He and 125,000 others in his community experienced what a fascist America really looked like: families rounded up and forced from their homes at gunpoint, forced to live for weeks in horse stables then for years behind barbed wire fences, with no charge and no trial, all for the “crime” of looking like the enemy. It would have been understandable for George to become embittered and to turn his back on this country. Instead he dedicated his life to a cause, working to deliver reparations for his community and to teach the history of the internment so that we would never repeat that terrible chapter of our history. He taught me a word in Japanese that I still think about a lot to this day: gaman. It means to face challenges with dignity and fortitude. Things have been bad before, and for many racial minorities, far worse than now. But they didn’t give up. They persevered, even in the face of the terrible dysfunction and injustice of our system. When I feel like throwing up my hands, I remember George Takei, and people like the late John Lewis, and I draw strength from their example. They did not let despair paralyze them or cause them to surrender.

Be a voice of hope, not fear

One of the ways fascism succeeds is through fear. And one way fear spreads is through public repetition and normalization. Some of our corporate and media leaders are already setting terrible examples by “obeying in advance” and capitulating to Trump’s threats. We shouldn’t be like them. But beyond that, it’s important to consider what impact our own attitudes have on others.

[...]

Support independent journalism

Many of our major papers, from the Washington Post to the LA Times, have billionaire owners who have recently demonstrated that they would rather please, or at least not ruffle the feathers of, the incoming administration than hold themselves up to basic standards of journalistic integrity. A small but collectively significant thing we as consumers can do is to vote with our eyeballs and our dollars. There are many independent sources of news with terrific reporting still happening. ProPublica was the one to break the stories on the corruption of Justice Clarence Thomas and the purchase of his support by wealthy benefactors, and I support them with an annual subscription. Another great outfit is Popular.info, which regularly exposes corporate malfeasance among other important topics. I have a favorite set of Substack journalists and analysts I support including  Heather Cox Richardson for news with a historical perspective,  Joyce Vance for legal news and analysis, Robert Hubbell for a daily news summary, and Talking Points Memo for political analysis. While these sources admittedly lean left, I also regularly read and support more centrist reporting from The Bulwark.

[...]

Defend institutions

There’s been a lot of attention paid to historian Timothy Snyder’s first rule in fighting fascism, which is not to obey in advance. But there’s not enough attention on his second rule.

[In his book On Tyranny, Snyder writes,

Defend institutions. It is institutions that help us to preserve decency. They need our help as well. Do not speak of “our institutions” unless you make them yours by acting on their behalf. Institutions do not protect themselves. They fall one after the other unless each is defended from the beginning. So choose an institution you care about—a court, a newspaper, a law, a labor union—and take its side.]

The great thing about this rule is that all of us can do something meaningful to help. Speak up for our court system and the rule of law, even when (or perhaps especially after) they fall short of expectations. The goal is to improve them as institutions, not to cast them aside. Support your local newspaper with a subscription. Rally at your state capital in support of laws protecting abortion rights. Support striking workers by avoiding companies that are anti-union. These acts seem small, but collectively they matter a great deal, and our institutions cannot succeed without support from the public.

Jay Kuo wrote in The Big Picture on the guide to surviving the next four years under the autocratic Trump Regime.

[thr0wnawayy]

Midoriya's Delusion

This is post that builds upon my previous one, I've copied many of the points I made there to here. Albiet with some corrections and tweaks.

To summarize, I have a bit of a crack theory that chapter 430 isn't as real as we've been led to believe. (As for when this actually takes place, that's up to you but I like to imagine the start of his third year marks the beginning of his mental decline.)

(As an update, I find it dubious whether 8 years have actually passed or if that's also a part of the fantasy. I can see Midoriya becoming so attached to the lie that his reference of time begins to warp)

This theory mostly comes from some inconsistencies in regards to the hero rankings and some other things I've found.

Corrections:

It's left ambiguous whether Best Jeanist and Endeavor are still active. However the fact that people view these two in a postive light (especially after Dabi and the war) still seems absurd.

2. Midoriya wasn't outright abandoned, rather their busy schedules make it hard for their days off to coincide. This falls apart when you look at this panel

"The rate of new villains keep decreasing and the number of heroes have stabilized"

Besides Ochaco who's funding a quirk counseling project, the rest of the class should be able to make time. Again it's stated that they aren't actually fighting.

There's no real threat to face. Besides PR and Community Service there's bot a whole lot else (besides the occasional natural disaster)

One could argue it's because the scope of what heroes do is increasing, thus keeping them busy. But again, we see heroes doing exactly what they did before, PR, Advertising and (implied) Showboating.

This leads me to believe that the lack of contact is based in reality, to some extent.

Whether it was by choice or forced by their (1A's) respective PR teams to preserve their images (can't be seen around the "freaks" for too long, now can we?).

The lie comes in the form of busy schedules.

Now whether that's what Midoriya tells himself or what he's been told, I cannot say for certain.

Disturbia:

For those of you who didn't read my last post, you may be wondering, so what's going on?.

Simply put:

Midoriya's having a breakdown fantasy to cope with the fact that he won't be becoming a hero due to the loss of his quirk.

Im aware it sounds crazy but consider the following:

1. Midoriya subconsciously knows the way he's been treated was wrong.

This manifests within the escapists fantasy in Bakugo's drop in the rankings + the attitude surrounding him (as well as his damaged hand never fully healing)

He meets a kid who just so happens to be in a near exact same position as he once* was (and still is to an extent). One could take this as his mind's way of trying to cope and heal itself, by having Midoriya do what he does best and help others, henceforth working though his trauma by using the kid as a stand in.

*Even the kid's "bully" seems to be a warped version of Bakugo (perhaps this is how Midoriya tries to fool himself into believing how it was)

2. We see Kota.

I believe that here, Kota serves as what Midoriya thinks he could have been had he not failed. Kota is the idealized version of Midoriya here, the unobtainable.

3. A lesson ignored

Apparently people forgot the connection between Endeavor and Shoto. You'd think this would be a good thing as Shoto would be able to become his own person.

This falls flat when you remember that also includes people forgetting the reason and happenings behind Shoto's existence, it feels like Midoriya is trying to have his cake and eat it too

To elaborate, this is a major copout, it allows Shouto to be unaffected by his family's past bith career wise and emotionally. While also feeding into Midoriya's rather toxic belief that forgiveness is required to be a good person.

(The fact that killing Tomura violated this only adds to my theory that this whole thing is an escapist coping mechanism.)

(You can also add the idea that Tomura didn't forgive society for what they did to him and his friends. That likely broke all the "rules" that Midoriya knew.)

4. The Mech Suit is a massive cope, it's the dying whimper of Midoriya's childish hope that All Might will save the day.

This time there's no magic quirk, no garrish mech suit, no plot twist.

No. There's only Midoriya and the consequences of his, his classmates and hero societies actions. It doesn't matter how shiny and seamless the illusion, how sweet the lie.

You can't hide the blood.

Concerning Aspects:

That was mostly the revised stuff, let me introduce you to some new points

1. A Frozen Lake

Something I noticed was certain characters seem to be almost frozen in time, as if someone tried to continue a story using scraps of the original text.

The curious case of Rei Himura:

This scene seems almost stagnant, what was most noticeable was Enji's bandages still being on and Rei still being there.

It's as if Midoriya hasn't seen them in years (or perhaps doesn't want to acknowledge what happened). So his mind uses what he last saw/heard of them, creating a sterile, static scenario. Little better than props.

Those surrounding her (with the exception of Hawks) also seem to be stuck in the past.

It's definitely strange.

2. See No Evil, Hear no Evil, Speak No Evil

Shigaraki is a representation of Midoriya's repressed guilt and his fears. I believe deep down Midoriya knows that, inevitably the cycle will repeat, so long as the system is allowed fester and wallow in it's complancy.

I find the fact that he's behind Midoriya to be ironic, as if to say: don't look back, don't think about what you've done.

A Symbol of Stagnation:

I should warn you that it does get lengthy from here, however I think it's important to get the full picture. Even if I tend to ramble here.

It's implied here that Lemillion's the top hero. This is awful for a variety of reasons. Mirio is a horrible symbol.

All Might was flawed for a variety of reasons, but a majority of these were byproducts rather than directly being his own doing.

Mirio on the other hand, has such a cancerous philosophy that it actively harms all who interact with it.

Mirio is a follower, he follows orders first and asks questions never.

Eri is the best example of this. Even after Nighteye's death, Mirio never truly reflects on the damage his actions could have caused ( only saved by the narrative, seriously it's a miracle Eri trusts anyone besides Midoriya after being abandoned like that)

You see, the difference between Toshinori and Mirio lies in their actions and principles.

Mirio left Eri to die, all for the sake of the "mission".

For all the heroes knew, Eri could have been a trafficking victim and either have been killed or relocated. But no, appearances and "gotta catch em all" take priority even after knowing Eri is in the Yakuza's clutches.

Lemillion made the worst decisions possible. He followed a known murder into a secluded, restricted area (with a hostage mind you) bringing his pupil with him.

Willingly ignored blatant signs of abuse (just look at the girl) and played hooky with thre leader of a criminal organization, who is known for his short fuse and willingness to kill.

He did all of that, when he could have easily detained Overhaul at any point (his quirk being a direct counter)

Toroshinori would fight tooth and nail in that situation. Consequences be damned if it meant saving Eri.

Part of the reason Toroshinori was so effective as a hero was 1. His sense of justice and 2. His compassion.

Mirio is a symbol that can be controlled, a weapon if you will.

The fact that Mirio is at the top shows that things haven't changed and are even beginning to decline. So this brings me to my next point

You may be asking, if Midoriya's losing it in his own mind, what's the outside world look really like?.

Allow me to set the stage.

4. Speculation

Within Midoriya's muddled mind, Lemillion represents both his toxic optimism and a subconscious understanding that nothing has changed. It represents denial and acceptance, a dysfunctional middle ground that's easy enough for Midoriya to stomach.

The truth of the matter is, delusion or not, the reality is soon to sink in.

Something that I don't see discussed is the lack of reactions from other nations or really any insight into how they were affected by everything that happend.

Here's the idea: Most likely they are foaming at the mouth.

Particularly it's the countries who suffered under Imperial Japan in the past (Korea, China, Singapore etc), however this also applies to every nation Nedzu brow beat into aiding with the rebuilding efforts, albiet their reaction would be latent.

Not not only is the attitude painfully reminiscent of how Japan handles it's past atrocities, Japan has had them clean up their messes. seen below:

(you cannot tell me Big Red Dot over here is having a good time)

From an outside pov. The Commission never told anyone about AFO, rather they suppressed any information, locked him up in Tartarus and then sat on the whole situation until it blew up in their (read: everyones) faces.

He then proceeded to: kill over 8000 people (+ those killed during the Blackout period), kill the top hero of one of the world's most powerful nations and incite mass panic. Destroyed massive amounts of infrastructure and transport nationwide, broke thousands of criminals out of prison, destroying those prisons in the process.

Meanwhile the heroes:

Abandoned civilians in mass by quitting in the middle of a war.

Left the public in the dark for months and allowing crime and paranoia to grow rampant, even (forcibly) bringing someone they knew was being targeted by AFO and his forces to the one place they could find shelter.

Mutilated a seven year old girl. Who has a history of being mutilated for the gain of others and patted themselves on the back. (Also having no holdup on how that may effect her physically via her quirk or mentally via her trauma)

Mic: tried to kill a docile prisoner who could be considered in comatose, based off of his emotional attachment to a dead man + viewing it as justified if it meant Spinner couldn't get to him.

Used hospital staff and patients as meatshields (Central Hospital) during a riot.

Most had no qualms supporting a child beating eugenicist and implied marital rapist, even with his one of his victims exposed him and citing it as his main reason for turning to villainy.

Held an illegal questioning* with said abuser while ignoring his main victim (Rei, who is probably the most reliable source of information there)

(*which effectively is like conducting an investigation on yourself and declaring you are not guilty)

And so much more! (But this post is getting too long)

My point is by the time everything was said and done, it seemed everyone but Japan was paying for it.

It's outright stated that the US president risked national security by sending every hero they had to help Japan. (Impeachment worthy if you ask me)

Endeavor's little plan to kill himself and Dabi in a blaze of death ended up disrupting the weather. Very likely it'll end up resembling an El Niño phenomenon, only vastly off schedule and even more destructive than normal.

For Reference [https://oceanservice.noaa.gov/facts/ninonina.html]

Very likely it'll lead to an agricultural drought in the northern America's and mass flooding in southern America's, likely starting at the west coast and bleeding inland. Leading to a domino effect where cost of living surges due to the sudden displacement of people and the rapid loss of products.

Worse still, because the US had no heroes (likely for months on end), crime has likely surged in the America's, which will further impact the rest of the world.

The rebuilding efforts likely emptied the wallets of most participating countries, leaving them unable to help anyone, including themselves.

Also keep in mind that Japan incriminated themselves with the Business Course footage. I don't think the general public (outside of Japan) is going to take too kindly to a known murder and abuse apologist being in charge of a system already known for it's corruption.

The end result is likely be a world that detests Japan, either from a moral perspective (Rei's treatment + the treatment of those society abandoned), a financial perspective (we can't afford shit and you contributed to that) or historical perspective (you do this everytime and ignore the consequences).

A world divided by struggle and united by an immense loathing for the Commission's Japan and the culture surrounding it.

Oh, don't forget there's no finding left for quirk research. Meaning that it's very likely no one will be prepared for quirk singularity to start manifesting in the upcoming generations (Thanks Nedzu).

_______________________________________

Update: Can I just say that Aizawa's lack of ownership infuriates me even though this is likely a fantasy and not grounded in reality.

Like what the fuck do you mean "with the way he talks, it was pointless" Fantasy Aizawa.

Because "Hey Asshole", You deliberately ignored his attitude and offenses!. And what? Now your just gonna shrug it off like it wasn't your fault. To hell with that you had two years, most teacher are said to only get one. As you so graciously mentioned at the start of this shit show of an epilouge.

Heres the moment I'm referring to btw:

While we're at it. Are you telling me it was too hard to get Momo some proper attire all three fucking years she was at UA for.

Not to mention Toru is still naked, how the fuck hasn't she died yet, she is literally exposed to the elements (and lord help her of she gets a cut)

Kirishima's costume is still his biggest liability considering it exposes his chest and back (also seeing as even when hardened he can't repell bullets)

Does Denki still fry himself with his quirk?

Before we move on Aizawa. How's that daughter you neglected, her horn still broken?.

Speaking of which let's look at the rescue team:

What the hell is this!?

Let's see, we got a guy who can only do damage (and his sweat detonates on contact, destroying whatever it touches.)

A brainwasher who only got into the hero course via nepotism and who can only brainwash people who directly respond to him!. A person trapped underneath rubble either frantic or groaning in pain isn't going to be able to respond or even just give consent.

(On a side note what are the laws regarding mind control quirks, does some sort of waiver have to be signed, can a person sue for being controlled against their consent?)

Oh, but wait there's more.

Midoriya running headlong with experimental tech that has, very likely never seen the light of day. Let alone preform in an actual high stakes situation before.

You're trying to carry someone and oops! Something malfunctioned or was miscalculated, now there's an even bigger mess (hooray!)

Who could forget Mezo "they'll come for your kids" Soji. Who climbed the ladder and pulled it all the way up.

Yeah forget that Heteromorph's were getting hate crimed long before the war, ignore the fact that you yourself were maimed by an angry mob after doing one of the most heroic things a person can do. Dismiss Spinner's comment about being sprayed with Pesticide for walking in public.

Nah screw it, let's all sing Kumbaya while the Creation Rejection Clan runs wild outside the reach of the cities, then ignore that the discrimination still is prevalent in the countryside and it's only a matter of time before somone gets fed up and takes matters into their own hands. (talons, claws, you get the picture)

But your a hero now Soji, you got your's. So fuck the rest of 'em

And don't even get me started on Hawks. Congratulations you ignorant bastard, way to kill time and by that I mean for everyone but the heroes.

"Yeah life is great!, everyone hates us, we're rapidly falling into debt from all that rebuilding 8 years back."

"Speaking of which some of those buildings are staring to fall apart due to being rushed to meet deadlines set within the month they were started."

"Social darwinism is on the rise and people are becoming more complacent that ever before due to heroes applying bandaid solutions on decade long, deeply ingrained problems."

"All so the average person doesn't have to think about what's festering beneath society's floorboards, so thank you Safety Commission. Here's your star of positivity ⭐️." - Some random anti-hero civilian

So much for greatest heroes, huh.

_______________________________________

UPDATE 2:

A dark thought I just had, is that the main reason Izuku killed Tomura was because Tomura broke the rule of "Forgiving Your Abusers makes you Good".

When Tomura refused to relinquish his hatred, when he stood his ground, that is when Midoriya decided he had to die. If not to "stop" him, then to preserve Midoriya's perception of the world .

Shigaraki + The LOV by their very ideals went against everything Midoriya has had beat into him by Bakugo and Aldera over the years.

Makes me wonder how'd he react to a person refusing to forgive their abuser. If he interacted with Natsuo or Rei, I could see that delving into a complete mess.

Now that I think about it, The Midoriya we know now, he would have never tried to hold onto Eri back when they first met.

Ironically, he became what he named himself after, a Deku. A puppet attached to thorns of liquid gold, glistening and burning hot.

A slave to his own biases and belief system, now trapped in a stage of his minds own making.

First bound by his past, then by legacy and finally, now by his own hand.

木偶.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Bad Faith Part Two

Part One | Masterlist

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+. Minors, kindly get off my lawn.

Notes: Not beta-read because when is it ever. Read this over six times but there are probably twenty typos that I'll spot the second I hit post, so. Anyway! Welcome to part two of two!! Thank you for reading 💖

Length: 14.2k

Warnings: Angst; fluff! Huzzah!; Reader’s married surname is Hayward; reader is depressed for swaths of the chapter; unhealthy coping mechanisms; lovers to enemies to allies to lovers; explicit sexual content - vaginal sex, oral sex, hate sex, safe sex

Summary: Your life was four walls, a cruddy bed, rickety furniture. You spent too much time awake when you should’ve been sleeping; too much time reminiscing when you should have been moving on; too much time dwelling on the time that you spent with men in your life that probably wouldn’t spare you another thought. 

“Ross. Mike Ross.” 

“Cut the Bond schtick.” 

“I’m a contender.” 

“Not a chance. Besides, we’ve been over this; you’re Q at best.” 

“Could do a lot worse than Desmond Llewelyn or Ben Whishaw—Hang on, you think you’re Bond?” 

Harvey stopped, gesturing over his body sweepingly before scoffing, “Please.”

“Please is right,” Mike muttered, tucking his hands into his pockets. “You always go to this thing?” 

“...I’ve been once or twice.” In truth, Harvey hadn’t been to the New York City Estate and Properties gala in years. He hadn’t had occasion or reason; the last time he had, he’d made sure that she wouldn’t be there before he’d agreed. Tonight his purpose was manifold—drink good champagne, eat good food, and warn Hayward off of pursuing his lawsuits against his client’s property. 

His client. It wasn’t as simple as all that, but these days, he’d managed to separate her from the work. It was clinical—and clinical was exactly what he needed. 

“Did you see the menu for dinner? I didn’t see a menu.” 

“Get your fill of canapes. I’m talking to Hayward and then we’re going.” 

“What?” Mike pouted. “But I thought we were staying for the ceremony.” 

“You thought wrong. Keep your eyes peeled. Sooner we get this conversation over, the sooner we can get away from this den of cobras.” 

“Never have a mongoose when you need one.” Mike nodded over Harvey’s shoulder. “Found Mrs. Hayward.” 

“Thought she didn’t like you calling her that.” 

“She doesn’t, but around here, it might be better to use that rather than use her maiden name and have someone ask me who the hell I’m talking about…You gonna talk to her?” 

“What for?” 

“So she at least knows what suit to look for when she wants to avoid you.” 

Harvey’s chastising glare was met with a wide, smug grin. 

“Come on,” Mike groaned. “You haven’t spoken to her in weeks.” 

“And have you considered that that may be why things have been going so smoothly?” 

“Fine—I’ll give you another reason you should say hi to her.” 

“You better make it a good one this time.” 

“Jessica is catching on to the fact that you haven’t touched this case with a ten foot pole.” 

Harvey winced slightly as he swallowed the last of his champagne. 

“Fine,” He grudgingly conceded, setting the empty champagne flute on a passing waiter’s tray. “Point me.” 

“She’s at your two o’clock.” 

Harvey turned accordingly, pushed out an annoyed sight—and then felt what breath he had left catch in his throat. 

‘Stunning’ was the first word that came to mind, but in his heart, Harvey knew that it didn’t do her justice. For his lingering, abiding annoyance with her, and with them—with the whole goddamn situation—there were moments when Harvey remembered why he’d fallen in love with her in the first place. 

She didn’t want to be there. Harvey didn’t need to ask to know that—it was common sense. But that didn’t stop her from showing her face, from being impeccably dressed, and maintaining what had to be a meticulously constructed poker face. 

“...You do know what staring isn’t talking, right?” 

Mike’s amusement cut into Harvey’s reverie, and he cleared his throat to refocus himself. 

“Keep an eye out for Hayward,” Harvey ordered before he forced himself forward, slowly weaving through the crowd. 

What the hell was he even going to say to her? Hi wasn’t going to cut it; Come here often? Was almost as stupid. How about something about her dress—Whether or not it was new? That had to be safe, neutral ground— 

Harvey had been so focused on what he planned to say that he hadn’t clocked her turning to face him. He chalked it up to panic radar—her hype-sesitivity given the current situation. He stared. She watched. And then—

“Come here often?” 

Damnit. Stupid, sure, but at least it wasn’t hi. 

-- 

“...Annually, at least.”

Was it your imagination, or was Harvey…Nervous? At the very least, he seemed as confused as you were at the fact that he was talking to you. 

“I’m a little surprised that you made a showing,” He admitted. 

“I could say the same for you. Does Jessica have you prospecting clients to get back in the good graces of the real estate department at the firm?” 

Harvey’s eyes narrowed with playful intrigue,and for a moment, you saw a flash of the man that you used to know—the man who gave you that same look when you slipped your panties off and tucked them into his jacket pocket to find later. 

“What did Mike tell you?” 

You shrugged nonchalantly, glancing around. 

“Nothing impor—...Tant.” You trailed off, falling still and quiet as your eyes landed on Steven. 

Well, he was hard to miss. 

Standing at 6’3, with a manufactured tan, swimmer’s build, full head of gracefully graying hair, and veneers that made his smile look like a neatly arranged row of chiclets gum, Steven Hayward was the very picture of the kind of health that only wealth could buy. With the stress of the last few weeks, you knew that you weren’t looking your absolute best. You’d had so many sleepless nights; you’d swapped out your favorite catered meals in favor of cheaper alternatives, or dollar slices of pizza, or ramen from the bodega down the block from your apartment, pulled gently from beneath the cat that seemed to always be napping on the exact flavor that you wanted. 

You were certain that Steven lost no sleep over the decision to divorce you, or to pull the rug out from beneath you. You expected him to be in tip-top shape—but you saw hints of his rage as he grew closer. 

“Oh—Hell,” You mumbled, tipping your head toward Harvey. “You might wanna clear out.” 

“You kidding? I’ve got a front row seat to the prize fight of the century.” 

“Target acquired.”

You frowned at the sound of Mike’s voice, but you didn’t turn to look at him as you muttered, “Target?” 

“Darling.” The term of affection oozed past Steven’s bleached-white teeth. He stopped just a couple of steps from you—not near enough to touch, but close enough to see the anger sparkling in his dishwater gray eyes. A pulse of vindication swept through your chest at the tense smile, and the tight pull of his jaw. 

“Steven,” You greeted cordially.

“I’m surprised to see you this evening.” 

“If I had a nickel.” 

“Oh, but you do. Putting all of those properties up for sale, I expect you plan on having more than a few nickels.” 

“What can I say? A girl’s gotta get by.” 

“Anything I can do to help?” 

“Have you considered unfreezing our joint account?” 

He chuckled humorlessly. “Anything but that.” 

“Then wire me half.”

“You haven't earned half.” 

It was meant to cut you down and lay you out, but you refused to bow to this man publicly when the other attendees must always hold you in such low regard as it was. 

“I agree,” You offered, and before Steven could preen in his false superiority, you clarified: “I deserve more.” 

Steven bristled, shoulders bunching tight. 

“Perhaps I should just take this evening’s expenses out of that half.” 

You furrowed your brow pointedly, shaking your head. 

“Mmm…I’m not sure I understand what you mean.” 

“Really.” 

“Mm…N—...No—?” 

“Perhaps you’ve been so busy hocking your clothes like a dog snuffling for scraps—” Your face flared with embarrassment as Steven pressed on: “But there was meant to be a reception at my penthouse this evening.” 

My penthouse. If it had only been the two of you in that room, you may have slapped him. How had he been able to detach, to force you from his mind and his heart so quickly? Had he ever loved you? Had any man? 

The heat of Harvey’s body suddenly seemed to flare just behind you. 

“Ah!” You nodded sagely, “It’s all coming back to me.” 

“What could have happened there, I wonder?” 

“You must not have taken care.” 

“Of what?” 

Of me. “Of anything.” 

Steven took you in for another long, cruel moment before he jutted his chin over your shoulder. 

“Friends of yours?” 

Ah yes. Your personal legal peanut gallery. You glanced back to confirm their positioning before raising your hand to gesture: 

“This is Mike Ross.” The name seemed to knock something loose in Steven’s mind as he shook Mike’s hand. 

“Ah, Mr. Ross. I saw your name on some documentation this morning.” 

“You’re about to see it a lot more, Mr. Hayward.” 

“And this is Harvey Specter.” 

Your stomach lurched as Steve’s eyes widened slightly, lips curling into a smile. 

“This is Harvey Specter?” He didn’t bother to hide his amusement as he proffered his hand. ”I didn’t realize I sent you the worst possible port in this storm.” 

“You didn’t,” Harvey insisted, grasping Steven’s hand firmly. “You sent her to the best.” 

“Try not to drop her this time. My arms aren’t open anymore.” 

Your hands tightened where they were clasped around one another. You forced yourself to keep your gaze set stalwartly on Steven, rather than watch the contentious (and no doubt, painful) handshake that the two of them were sharing. 

“Well,” You chirped. “This was a lovely little catch-up.” 

“Yes,” Harvey chimed in, finally extricating his hand from Steven’s and tucking it into his pocket. “We must do it again sometime. Preferably at a deposition.” 

“Maybe in court,” Mike added. You had to fight down a smile at the sudden swell of support, and a wave of warmth that swept through you. Steven’s eyes narrowed just a touch more before he nodded. 

“I do hope you’ll stay for my speech.” 

“Who’d you have write it for you this time?” You asked. 

“I took a crack at writing it myself.” 

If that was true, it was sure to be a mess and a half. You always had been the one to draft his speeches or remarks—or you paired down any drafts sent over by the agency’s PR department. 

“I look forward to it.” 

Steven gave you one last look before he turned away, slapping on his businessman smile as he went, and raising a hand to signal someone like a politician trying to garner votes. 

“...Why didn’t you mention the forgery charges?” Mike asked. 

“It’s too soon to tip our hand...What table are you sitting at?”

“Thirteen,” You sighed. 

“Lucky number,” Mike muttered. 

“Go change our place cards,” Harvey ordered. “Put us on either side of her.” 

You whirled around to face him, stunned at the tight irritation pinching his features. 

“So we are staying for dinner?” Mike grinned. Harvey blinked flatly at him before reiterating: “Go.” 

You watched Mike duck through the crowd, heading for the dining room.

“Were you not going to stay for dinner?” 

“I’ve gotta eat some time. Come on,” Harvey nudged your arm with his, “Buy me a drink.” 

“It’s an open bar.” 

“Good. Then it won’t break the bank.” 

The press of Harvey’s warm hand to your lower back was far more steadying than it should have been, and it managed to dampen the enraged fire in your belly. 

“How’s that good faith deposit doing, anyway?” 

“I threw 98% of it into an HYSA.” 

“Smart move.” 

“I should’ve made moves like it sooner.” 

“Better late than never.” 

“I guess.” 

“...You don’t have to stay for dinner.” 

“We’re going to.” 

“On either side of me as well, I’m flattered. I wasn’t planning on having guard dogs this evening.” 

“As long as you don’t try to keep us on short leashes.” 

“Depends on whether you plan on doing more barking or biting this evening.” 

“I’ve barked enough for now.” 

“Biting?” 

“If you play your cards right, sure.” 

You didn’t bother to hide your open shock at the blatant implication, but when you looked at Harvey, you found him giving you a surprisingly warm smile. 

“Looks like speaking with Steven has put a little pep in your step, Mr. Specter.” 

“I wouldn’t say that.” 

“What did?”

Harvey leaned heavily against the bar, focus set elsewhere as he tried to catch the bartender’s eye. 

“You and I both know that this is going to be a long road. I like a good fight.” 

“You don’t say.” 

“It’s important to me that you’re ready for it, too.” 

You nodded a little. “It may also be prudent for us to keep that fight directed at Steven, and not toward one another.” 

Harvey took the two proffered champagne flutes, passing you one and holding it up to cheers: 

“I’ll drink to that.” 

-- 

It wasn’t perfect right away. You and Harvey still butt heads from time to time. On the purchases that the judges ruled that you were able to move forward with, you disagreed over terms—purchase price, contingencies, negotiations. But the knots unpicked sooner and sooner, and you reached resolutions faster. Mike hardly had to intervene anymore. Harvey gave Jessica status updates openly, and you abidingly ignored the smug, self-satisfied smiles that she gave you as you left her office. 

With the service and tenancy contracts, the two apartment building sales that aren’t mired in paperwork still chugged along slowly. You knew that it was protocol, but it was excruciating. You felt ill every time you got an email from Mike or Harvey, expecting correspondence that spelled disaster. Every little bit of good news only brought marginal relief. 

You spent most of your days in your apartment, packaging clothing or jewelry that you’d sold online. You got your packages sent off by five in the evening, and the rest of your night was your own—though it often ended similarly. Your logical mind often gave over to your emotions in the evening, and you allowed yourself to slip into quiet, depressed oblivion. The methods varied—slurping down two packets worth of dollar-pack ramen, and chasing that with a few bottles of beer as one of your favorite shows played in the background; curling up in your bed and staring at the ceiling at 8 PM, and laying wide awake with your mind racing until the sun came up; hunting through property listings online and plotting a comeback that felt like it would never come.

You never had visitors. Aaron was so entrenched at work that you  only got the odd text from him. Your former friends seemed to have further aligned themselves with Steven after his triumphant speech at the gala—during  which he had gone out of his way to omit any mention of you from his historical record. You had avoided seeing much of Jessica outside of the office, certain that she would council you on a good divorce lawyer, or encourage you to begin dating, or level another lecture about the stupidity with which you had bungled your last marriage.

For as well as you knew she meant, you didn’t have the time or patience—and some little part of you, some stupid, naïve part that knew well enough that the war was already lost, was convinced that Steven would change his mind.

It was unlikely, considering the magnitude of his cruelty over the last couple of months, and further exacerbated by your actions before the gala. Steven would not let you back into his arms, his home, or his heart. You didn’t truly want to be let back into his arms, or his heart, but you missed his home. You had taken such care in the planning, the curation, the furnishing, the upkeep. You were proud of it. You had been happy, and comfortable, and so goddamn foolish.

Now you were tired, and lonely, and you spent so much of your day feeling stupid. 

Sometimes, when the wind blew just a little too hard and rattled the flimsy windows, you let the sound of it cover your sobs against the paper-thin walls that connected you to your neighbor’s apartment (you’d learned just how much sound bled through when you first became privy to your neighbor’s light argument, which had then turned into a full-on shouting match. They’d sounded like they were in the same damn room with you, wall be damned).

It was one such sob session that you managed to hear someone knock on your door. You sniffled, shifting on your bed. You were certain that the sound was from next door, or that you’d misheard the rattle of the window. But when you heard the second, insistent round of knocks, the source couldn’t be mistaken. You sniffled, setting your beer aside onto the bedside table crowded with empties and pushing yourself off of the bed. You swiped haphazardly at the tears on your face as you walked over to it, calling out, “Alright, for fuckssake!” When a third round of knocks rapped against the door.

You threw it open, finally, wincing at the invasive flash of the flickering fluorescent hall light. You weren’t sure what was worse: the flickering, harsh strobe, or Harvey’s stunned confusion.

It may have been a tie.

“…What is it?” You mumbled.

“Have you been crying?”

“Little bit.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Getting there.”

“…Get dressed.”

“What?”

“Get dressed,” Harvey insisted, nodding over your shoulder. “We’re going out.”

“Harvey, I’m really not in the mood,” You sniffled.

“We won’t go far.”

“Then why are we going at all?”

Harvey opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by a sudden crash! and the swell of yelling voices from next door. His eyes darted toward it before he nodded.

“I’m not listening to that all night.”

“Who the hell says you’re going to be here more than five minutes?”

Your heart stuttered as Harvey’s hands planted firmly on your hips, steering you back into your studio before he nudged the door shut with his foot.

“Get dressed. And hurry up.”

You weren’t sure what it was—his touch, his firm insistence, or your own distaste for your screaming neighbors—but you turned around and began dutifully rifling through one of your remaining trash bags of clothing.

“Where are we going?”

“There’s a diner around the corner.”

“A diner? How down heel of you, Mr. Specter.”

“I can appreciate the simple things.”

You snorted, straightening with a pair of jeans and a sweater. “Since when.” You glanced guardedly toward him before you nodded him toward the door. “Turn around.”

--  

“You can afford better than that place, you know.” 

You didn’t answer him. Instead, you shoved a handful of cheese fries in your mouth and leaned back to chew with laborious slowness. You expected Harvey to fill the silence, but he didn’t. He just watched, and waited, and stared at you until you swallowed. You nudged the plate toward him, offering: “Want one?” 

 You avoided his openly chastising gaze, tired of the fact that it was the only look you get from most of the lawyers in your life these days. 

“You have that good faith deposit.” 

“I told you where it went.” 

“The brownstone payment is on the edge of clearing escrow. Look for somewhere else to live.” 

“Not yet.” 

“Why not?” 

“It’s not a good idea.” 

“Steven isn’t going to weasel into every potential deal and hold it up.” 

“Forgive me for my skepticism, but I don’t exactly have many friends in this city anymore.” 

“...Are you planning on going somewhere else?” 

You’d be lying if you said it hadn’t crossed your mind. There were cities here you could rebuild your life and your practices, places where you were sure Steven wouldn’t bother to try and strike down your attempts to rebuild your life. 

“Maybe,” You admitted. “I liked Cambridge.” 

Harvey’s lips twitched with a gentle, regretful smile. It was his turn to reach out and swipe a few fries and chow down. 

“Realty up there is pricey,” You added. “Could make a polite killing on student housing.” 

“How does one make a polite killing?” 

“Decent rent and coin-operated laundry. Maybe some paid parking, a few overpriced but conveniently placed vending machines.” 

“Redbull?” 

“I was just thinking about snacks, but you know what, Redbull isn’t a bad idea.” You reached out, picking up a fry and drawing it through the splodge of ketchup remaining at the edge of the plate. “Why did you come over?” 

“I wanted to let you know that the inspections are finished.” 

“On which?” 

“The properties that you didn’t know about.” 

“Anything stand out?” 

“A foundational issue on one of the apartment buildings, but it doesn’t cost enough that it should’ve stopped work.” 

“What about the others?” 

“Nothing that popped as catastrophic.” 

“You have the print-outs?” 

“In my car.” 

“Why are they in there?” 

“I was going to offer to take you for a drink, but you seemed to beat me to it.” 

You scoffed, shifting in your seat. “Don’t get all high and mighty on me, Specter.” 

“You do that often?” 

“What, drink?” 

“Yes.” 

“Are you accusing me of having a problem?” 

“I’m asking if you do that often.” 

“Once in a while.” 

“New for you?” 

“Relatively.” 

Harvey eyed you critically for a few moments before he nodded. “Call me the next time you want to have a drink.” 

“So you can talk me out of it?” 

“So you at least don’t do it alone.”

“I’m usually not in a talking mood when it happens.” 

“We don’t have to talk.” 

“Oh, please. As if you don’t love the sound of your own voice.” 

“Call me anyway.” 

You were quiet for a moment before you nodded. “You know, the thought of you dropping by may just be an effective suppressant.” 

Harvey’s smile widened a little. “Do you want to put the other houses on the market?” 

“I want to walk through the apartment buildings myself before I go through them.” 

“What about the ones in the Hamptons and the Cape?” 

“I’ll drive up.” 

“And Gstaad?” 

“A little trickier.” 

“Could bill it.” 

“I doubt it.” 

“You could, under discovery.” 

“This would not be covered under discovery.” 

“How would you know that?” 

“I’m sorry, remind me who used to quiz you for the bar?” 

Harvey scoffed softly, averting his gaze to the diner counter. “Well, this may surprise you, but a few laws have changed since then.” 

“And this may surprise you, but not only am I aware of that, I’ve also been pretty deeply entwined with lawyers since then. So I’m pretty comfortable making that assertion.” 

“And this? You think I’m not billing for this?” 

“Oh, I hope you are. I hope you bill for every second that it took you to walk up the steps to my apartment. I want Jessica to pay for my cheese fries. You know why?” 

“Because it would kill her?”

“It would drive her nuts.” 

“I can’t wait to give her the itemized total.” 

“I await the enraged phone call.” 

-- 

“You don’t have to walk me back up, you know."

“Sure I do. Gotta work off those fries. Besides, I’m billing for this until I officially drop you off.” 

You rolled your eyes, nudging Harvey’s shoulder with yours. Your depressed, tear-ridden, sobbing buzz had worn off over the course of dinner, and you didn’t think that the mood would creep back in once you were alone again. 

“I’ll walk through the apartment buildings tomorrow and see if I can get up to the Cape at some point in the next couple of weeks. The pictures and notes from the inspection look promising. If I dip into the good faith deposit, maybe I could get the Cape Cod house fixed up and sold before the summer.” 

“Or you could keep it as a rental property.” 

“Mm.” “You always liked the Cape in the winter…For some reason.” 

“I kinda like when it’s all grey and gloomy…and quiet.” 

“Be a good base for your Cambridge operation.” 

“Oh, please,” You chuckled. “It’s not even close. The red line doesn’t exactly go all the way to Hyannis.” 

The two of you slowed as you neared your landing, listening closely. 

“...Think the coast is clear?” Harvey murmured. 

“For now, at least.” You fished into your pocket for your keys. “Thanks for dinner.” 

“Sure. Remember what I said.” 

“I will.” 

“Call me if you need anything.” 

Anything. That was new. You nodded, gaze set on your keys as he turned to go back downstairs. 

“...Harvey?” 

“Yeah?” He stopped just a few steps away, and you had to scrounge up your courage to turn and look at him again. 

“I don’t, um…” You swallowed thickly. “I’m gonna wanna talk about it.” You watched Harvey’s face shift with grim understanding. 

“I don’t want to litigate that.” 

“Isn’t that your job?” 

“Not like this.” 

“Not tonight,” You reiterated, “But…Sometime. Please.” 

Harvey’s jaw went tight, but he gave you a short, firm nod before he turned away. You watched him round the corner, and listened until his footsteps faded and the front door opened downstairs. 

--  

The apartment buildings weren’t anything special. Stripped of most of their insulation, and with several of the windows already removed, the wind that pushed through them made the buildings sound like they were breathing. It was eerie, and chilly. You tightened your coat around yourself as you went from floor to floor, eyeing damaged pipes, areas where someone seems to have come in and rooted around for copper wiring, and the billowing plastic that marks off some doors that have been removed. 

The paperwork on this building listed the purchase date as nearly a year ago. 

A year ago, you and Steven had been discussing expanding your current operations. Maybe he hadn’t gotten sick of you yet. Maybe he’d bought you the buildings as a present and stopped work when things turned sour…Whenever that had been. 

There had been signs, sure, but Steven always had been temperamental. 

You pushed the thought away as you drew in a deep breath, turning toward the stairs. It wouldn’t do to overthink this just now. If needed, you could panic looking at the Hamptons, or Cape Cod…Or Gstaad, if you ever found a way to get to Gstaad. 

You reached into your pocket as your phone buzzed, drawing it out to find an incoming call. You groaned, stomping your foot petulantly before you raised it to your ear. 

“Jessica, I’m a little busy—” 

“I need you to come into the office.” 

Your fingers tightened around your phone as your palm began to sweat. 

“What happened?” 

“I’d rather discuss this in person.” “Jessica.” 

“Come to the office.” 

She hung up without another word. You swallowed thickly, lowering your phone and watching her call blink and then disappear. If she wasn’t willing to discuss it over the phone, whatever it was had to be very, very bad. 

-- 

“Cheese fries?” 

“Jessica,” You groaned, “Come on, there is no way that that’s why you called me here.” 

“No, it isn’t. But I’d like to remind you that you should remain fighting fit and cheese fries are not the way to do it.” 

“My life has fallen apart and dipped into a moderately humiliating place. I think I’m allowed to have a few cheese fries. Why did you tell me to come in.” 

“I have someone that I would like you to meet.” 

“I’m not going to start dating anyone now.” 

“Well, we can attack that another time. This is for your defense.” 

“Harvey’s on that.” 

“Your divorce.” 

“You know that I can’t afford a defense right now.” 

“I don’t mind getting a start while you get the pieces in place.” 

The man’s voice caught you off-guard, and you turned to find a man leaning in the doorway. Your brow furrowed a touch as you took him in—the long lean of his body, the neatly fitted charcoal suit and sky-blue tie, the curl of his dark hair, the twinkle of his warm chestnut eyes, and his small, intrigued smile. 

“Well that’s very kind of you, whoever the hell you are, but I don’t exactly have anything on the board right now.” 

“The fact that you even have a board is encouraging.” 

“...This metaphor is beginning to exhaust me.” 

“This,” Jessica stepped past you to gesture the man deeper into the room, “Is David Alford.” 

“Alford?” You repeated. “Like the plea?” 

“No relation. What would you know about an Alford plea?” 

“I know of it.” 

“How’s that?” 

“Well, I used to date a lawyer.” 

“Lucky guy.” 

“I don’t think he’d agree with you, as evidenced by the fact that he is no longer my boyfriend.” 

“It’s nice to meet you.” 

You shook his hand lightly, still wary from the ambush. 

“Look, Mr. Alford—” 

“David, please.” 

“—I don’t know what Jessica’s told you about my situation—” 

“She didn’t have to tell me much. Forgive my bluntness, but your name has come up in our circles over the last couple of weeks.” 

“Well, forgive my bluntness, but it’s not my circle anymore.” 

“It could be again.” 

“Are you going to get me a circle back in the divorce?” 

“I’m gonna get you whatever the hell you want in your divorce.” 

You let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, unable to help yourself. 

“O-kay,” You lowered your hand. 

“Why don’t I see what we can do about getting some coffee,” Jessica offered. “You two talk.” 

Your brows furrowed as she waved the two of you more deeply inside. Jessica, at least pretending to get coffee? Damn, she really did want the two of you to talk. You gave David a polite smile as you lowered yourself to sit.

“I’m sorry she dragged you in here.” 

“Wasn’t much of a drag. My office is a block away.” 

“Well, then I’m glad you haven’t come far for nothing.” 

“Nothing?” His brows jumped as he sat beside you. “I don’t understand.” 

“I’m not currently looking for a divorce lawyer.” 

“You need one.” 

“That is beyond the point, Mr—” 

“David.” 

“...Mister David,” You bit out pointedly, and fought back a wave of annoyance at his amused smile. “I’m not sure how much Jessica has told you, but there are a lot of things up in the air right now. I’ve socked away some money for my defense, but not enough.” 

“How would you know what’s enough?” 

“...Let’s pretend that I don’t know anything about the law, or the legal quagmire that I’ve gotten myself into. Let’s pretend that all I know about my soon to be ex-husband’s business is that he has a lot more money than I do. The two of us went into our marriage with about 600 bucks and a dream held together with tape and spit. I have watched, and I have helped my husband build up his business for the last eleven years. I have signed contracts, I have signed purchase orders, I have signed mortgages, I have signed deeds. Even if I wasn’t paying attention to what I was signing, I would know that Steven has amassed a lot of cash, a massive legal team, as well as a significant number of holdings—in both our names. He has a lot of power in this equation, and I do not. Whatever comes down the pike, it is going to be a protracted legal battle. If I was optimistic, I would figure that this would take about a year, but I’m not, and I know that it could take a few.”  

David’s dark eyes darted fascinatedly across your face before he offered: “But you do know a lot about Mr. Hayward’s business.” 

“Yes, I do.” 

“Because it was your business, too.” 

You averted your gaze from him as that washed over you. His acknowledgement made your heart knock hollowly against your ribs, and it took all of your strength not to slouch dejectedly in your chair. 

“...Yes,” You agreed. “It was.” “I understand that you’re discouraged. I would be, too, a lot of women are in your position.” 

“Exactly what position is that, Mister David.” 

His smile flattened with nerves, and he let out a huffed, joyless laugh. 

“I mean, having been served—” 

“A piping-hot plate of out on my ass?” 

“If that’s what you’d like to call it—”

“I call it that because that’s what it is, not because I like it that way.”

“I understand. Look,” David shifted in his seat, twisting to face you a little more. “I think that regardless of when you get your pieces in place, you have a real case here. I think I can get you half.” 

If you had a touch less decorum, you would have jumped out of your seat and screamed—both from the excitement, and the certainty that David Alford was out of his mind. Instead, you blinked twice, and once you managed to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, asked:

“Half?” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

“There is no way.” 

“You’d be surprised.” 

“I don’t think I would, because I’m almost certain that’s impossible.” 

“Well, it certainly would be before.” 

“What exactly has changed?” 

“You didn’t know me. You do now.” 

You smiled in spite of yourself at the brash, almost fearless way that he said it. As skeptical as you were, you knew that this was exactly what you needed: someone as bold, confident, and fearless as—

“What a cozy little conference this is.” 

You turned back at the sound of Harvey’s voice, smiling a little. “Looking to join the fun?” 

“If I can hazard a guess at Jessica’s matchmaking, Alford is the one joining the fun.” 

“Specter,” David greeted, pushing himself out of his seat. “Haven’t seen you at the squash courts recently.” 

“I’ve been trolling the back nine,” Harvey offered, shaking David’s hand. “Nice to see you, Pleas and thank you.” 

Your brow furrowed at the term. “What?” 

“It’s what some of the guys at the club call me. You know, my name—” 

“Alford pleas and thank you.” You scrubbed your hand across your brow. “God, that’s dumb.” 

“We can’t all be queens of quip.” 

“You poor things,” You shot back scathingly. Harvey shot you a wink before turning back to David. 

“So, David, whaddaya say?” Harvey plied. “You filling the gap?” 

“Yeah, I’d love to fill ‘er in.” 

You didn’t miss his innuendo, nor the speculative, open, sweeping gaze that David leveled at you. Your brows inched toward your hairline, stunned at his brazenness. Surely you hadn’t seen it right—

“Coffee?” 

Your focus was broken at the sound of Jessica’s voice, and the sight of a coffee tray being wheeled in behind her. You let yourself be busied by it. You focused on your coffee, made it the way you liked, and let Jessica and David and Harvey talk about what you could reasonably expect out of the divorce battle. 

Reasonably, as if this entire situation hadn’t been insanely unreasonable. 

But you let yourself sit, and listen, and save your speculation for the train ride home. 

You must’ve read his look wrong, or misunderstood. He didn’t mean it like that. 

And even if he did, finding that look intriguing was incredibly appropriate. But it didn’t matter! Because he didn’t mean it like that. 

…And even if he did, it was probably just something that he tried to bring you on board. But it didn’t matter, because he did not mean it like that. 

…

Though if he did, it really wouldn’t matter, because it would be grounds for him to be disbarred. Nothing was going to happen…Even if you did find him attractive, and found his blunt approach and self-assured nature very, very hot. 

But you were not going to fuck him.

--  

“Don’t fuck him.” 

You had expected the warning to come from Jessica, but to hear it from Harvey of all goddamn people made you gape at him in shock. He just gave you a knowing look before he turned back toward the beer that he was opening. 

Your urge to have a drink that evening hadn’t been strong, but it had been there, and it had made you think of Harvey’s offer from the day before. You hadn’t expected such a quick response to your simple text of ‘Beer?’, but he had turned up a mere half hour later, a fresh six pack in hand. He had shrugged off his jacket, tossed it on to your bed, and walked over to your kitchenette—where he proceeded to say the most heinous thing.

“Excuse me?” You finally managed. 

“You heard me.” 

“I don’t think I did, actually, not properly, because it sounded like you just gave me an order that you had no business giving.” 

“I have plenty of business.” 

“No—” 

“Don’t—” 

“No no no, you do not, not here, and not like that.” 

“I’m just saying,” Harvey turned from the counter, planting his hand on the cruddy formica, “That I know—” 

“Do not say that you know me.” 

His expression darkened, and you watched as he drew in a deep breath. “I know him.” 

“...He has to be good, or Jessica wouldn’t have pulled him on to my case.” 

“He’s a good lawyer, but he’s a scuzzy asshole.” 

“I know the type.” 

“You think I’m a scuzzy asshole?” 

Your gut dropped at the hint of anger seeping into his tone. 

“I meant Steven.” 

Harvey turned away, hand curling into a fist and knocking lightly on the counter. 

“Just…Be careful with him.” 

“You are the last person that has any right to lecture me on the care that I ought to take with the men in my life.”

“I’m not lecturing you—” 

“No, you’re warning me off, like a little kid that’s playing too close to an electric fence.” 

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Fine by me, as long as you don’t fuck David.” “Alright, you know what,” You pushed off of your bed, striding over to your door. “Get out.” 

“We’re not done talking about this.” 

“Yes, we are. Get out.” 

“We’re not done until—” 

“We’re done when I say we’re done!” You began to yank your door open. Harvey was across your small space in a moment, palm flat against the door as he shoved it shut behind you. 

“And what the hell gives you the right to decide that?” 

“Because it’s my turn!” You barked. “I get to decide when we’re done now.” 

“It stopped being your turn when you stormed out of my office.” 

“Then make the damn decision yourself and get the fuck out of my apartment!” 

“If you want to ruin that man’s career and your chances of getting anything that you want out of your divorce, you go right ahead.” 

“I am not going to fuck him, and I’m not going to get him disbarred, you ass.” 

“Good.” 

“And I deeply resent the implication that I’m so sex-starved and desperate that I’m willing to fuck anyone who gives me any goddamn attention.” 

“I did not—” 

“Yes, you did, you did the second you opened your mouth. By rights, if that’s your view of me, I should’ve tried to not only fuck Mike, but you, of all people.” 

“I never implied that you were sex starved, but if you were, you could do a lot worse than Mike—” 

“Oh, really—” 

“And a helluva lot worse than me.” 

“Oh, please! There is no way that I could do worse than you. There are dictators that I’d sooner fall into bed with.” 

“If all you’re cutting out is the bed, I can work with the rest.” 

You could’ve slapped him. He was close enough, and you could just imagine it—the way the flush of red would look spreading across his cheek. 

“What makes you think I’d ever allow you anywhere near me again, Specter?” 

“I’m pretty damn close now.” He shifted closer, stopping as the tips of his shoes brushed your socked feet.

“Against your better judgment.” 

“You want to put me in my place, sweetheart, you go right ahead.” 

“Don't call me that.” 

“Why not.” 

“Don’t you dare call me that.” 

“Give me a good reason not to.” 

“You haven’t earned it back.” 

“Any idea of how I might do that?” 

You bit him. You grasped his tie, tugged him in, and sank your teeth into his lower lip. You expected an argument, but Harvey just groaned, grasping you by the hips and shoving you back against the door. You released his lip, groaning as he swept his tongue into your mouth. Your hand unwound from his tie, breath leaving you in harsh puffs as Harvey’s smearing kisses trailed down your jaw to your neck. You arched up into his touch as his hands slipped under your t-shirt, palming and squeezing whatever skin he could reach. You reached down, hands fumbling with nerves and heat as you worked off his belt. 

Every time your mind began to race, Harvey managed to quiet it, with his teasing tongue, and nipping teeth, and grasping fingers. For all of his big talk about getting David disbarred, Harvey suddenly seemed to not give a damn about his own career—

You whined as Harvey yanked down the cup of your bra, knuckles toying with your pebbling nipple. You palmed his hardening cock through the soft fabric of his trousers, thrilling in his moan, and the press of his hips up against your touch. His fingers snaked beneath the band of your sweatpants, sweeping against your clit before swiping slower. 

“You’re already so goddamn wet,” He growled, easing a finger into you. You pressed into his touch, gritting your teeth as he goaded: “You like pissing me off this much?” 

“Condom?”

“Left pocket.” 

You reached into his pocket, brushing against his cock as you drew out the foil packet. Why wasn’t it tucked somewhere discreet, like his wallet? You pushed the thought away as you ripped the foil packet open with your teeth. Harvey let go of you just long enough to shove his pants down around his thighs, then push your sweatpants. 

“Turn around.” 

You passed him the condom before doing as you were told, leaning heavily against the door. You expected a stretch, but slick heat pressed between your spread thighs. Your mouth dropped open in a moan, eyes squeezing shut as Harvey lapped and laved your slick, heated skin. You reached back, fingers scrabbling to grasp the neat coif of his hair. 

“Harvey, damnit,” You gasped. “Just fuck me already.” 

He groaned in dissent, giving your lips one more sucking kiss before straightening fully. You felt one palm smooth over to your thigh, and saw the other rest against the door as he eased into you. Your lips parted with a gentle whine at the pleasurable throb of his cock stretching you. You planted your hand on the door beside his, steadying yourself as you adjusted.

He didn’t give you long. Harvey drew back before his hips snapped sharply. You pressed your cheek to the door, skin growing clammy between the flimsy particleboard and the hot panting of your breath. The harsh slam of his hips forced your body uncomfortably against the door. You let your eyes slide closed as Harvey’s hands covered yours, drawing them just above your head as he intertwined your fingers. The door rattled in the frame with each thrust. You whimpered as Harvey pressed his face into your neck, felt his hot breath and the rumble of his groans against your skin. 

Your thighs ached, and your heart pounded, and your cunt throbbed, and goddamn it felt so fucking good. 

The swell of your orgasm rose and crested sharply, and you didn’t bother to hide the shuddering of your moan, your grip tightening on Harvey's hands. He followed close behind, hips pounding and juddering before he slowed. The two of you stood still for a few long moments, listening to one another’s panting and coming down. Harvey carefully extricated your hands from yours, drawing away and leaving you half-bare and chilly against the door.

“...I need a beer,” Harvey muttered, voice hoarse.

“You left one on the counter.” 

“You want one?” 

“Yeah.” 

You reach down, tugging up your sweatpants as you gently peel yourself back from the door. 

“It’s probably going to be lukewarm,” Harvey warned.

“I don’t care.” You drew in a shaky breath as you walked back toward your bed. You’d already sworn that you wouldn’t let him into it. You lowered yourself to sit beside it, looking at the door as the swirl of confused thoughts shifted back to the fore. You watched Harvey tie off the condom and drop it into your trash bin. You tracked his movement—from cleaning up, to doing up his pants, to washing his hands. You didn’t bother to hide your open speculation as he opened another beer, then took the two up. You drew your legs together, biting your lip as your slick cunt pulsed.

Harvey lowered himself to sit beside you, holding a beer out and lightly knocking his against yours before you each took a drink. You winced a little at the taste. You should’ve listened to him—the taste of lukewarm beer was not appetizing. You saw Harvey reach up out of the corner of your eye as he loosened his tie. 

“...What was that about getting someone disbarred?” 

“Shuddup.” There was no heat to how he said it, and that was probably why it made you snort a laugh. 

“Harvey?” 

“What.” 

“Did you come over planning to fuck me?” 

“What?” 

“Why was there a condom in your pocket?” 

“I had a date.” 

Your brow furrowed as you took that in. 

“...When?”

“Tonight.” 

“Why aren’t you there?” 

“Because I’m here.” 

Harvey Specter broke a date. Harvey Specter broke a date for you. You leaned back against the bed again, biting the inside of your cheek to quell a wide grin. 

“Don’t read into it,” He added. 

“I’m not reading into anything…Apart from the fact that you seemed pretty sure you were going to get laid.” 

“I was.” 

“Arrange for that, did you?” 

“No need to arrange anything. I’m just good like that.” 

“Well. Can’t argue with that. For the record—” 

“What.” 

“You really have no say over who I do and don’t fuck.” 

“I know.” 

“Good.” 

“...You going to the Hamptons next weekend?” 

“Yeah.” “How are you getting up there?” 

“I was going to take the train.”

“I could give you a ride.” 

“You already have.” You cast Harvey a knowing smile, grin widening as he shot you a sidelong, unimpressed glance. Your smile turned to giggles as Harvey seemed to smile in spite of himself. 

“You really think we could stand to be in the car with one another for more than twenty minutes?” You prodded. 

“If not, we could always pull over and work out our differences.” 

“Pfft. No other weekend plans?” 

“Nope.” 

“Didn’t promise a rain check?” 

“Didn’t specify when it might happen.” 

“Mm. And why would you want to come with me?” 

“Steven could be watching those properties, waiting for you to turn up. You could benefit from having back up.” 

“You make it sound terribly sinister. Have you figured out how to bill Gstaad yet?” 

“I’m working on it.”

“Keep me updated.” 

“Sure.” 

“I don’t mean for, you know—I don’t want a vacation.”

“You’ve earned one.” 

“Whatever, I just don’t like to put something on the market without doing a walk-through myself.” 

“I understand.” 

You leaned back against the bed a little more heavily, gaze wandering toward the door, where a little bit of your makeup was smeared from the press of your cheek. 

“...Harvey?”

“Mm?” 

“Can we talk about it?” 

“The sex or the other thing?” 

“The other thing.” 

“I’ve already had one fight with you today. I don’t think I have the capacity for two...Do you?”

You shook your head. 

“Some other time,” He promised. 

“Sure.” 

-- 

You had seen the paperwork and the inspector’s notes, but to see the house in the Hamptons was a whole other story. The long gravel driveway was lined with a horse fence on the left, and a plain wood fence on the right. You didn’t bother to hide your open, stunned stares as you passed the stables. It was hardly the first time you’d seen a home like it, but it was unfathomable that Steven seemed to have not only put the house in your name, but completely forgotten about it. 

Harvey pulled the car into the neatly manicured lot. 

“Do you want to start in the stables, the house, the pool, the tennis court…?” He shut the car off, waiting for your reply. You shook your head. 

“I only care about the house,” You admitted. 

“So we won’t be walking the expansive lawns? I brought my sneakers.” 

“Do I even want to know how expensive those sneakers are?” 

“They’re worth more than your apartment.” 

“I’m willing to believe that.” You climbed out of the car, eyeing the inspector’s report as you rounded toward the front steps. You turned from the paperwork to take in the house’s appearance more clearly. It was…Ugly. The large, L-shaped, gray-brick building had the modernistic development of the fast-casual apartment buildings in the city, with some of the gauche touches of your penthouse, like the expansive floor-to-ceiling covering nearly the entirety of the bottom of the floor. You could see a balcony on the left side of the house, and another around the other end of the L. 

“...This is different.” 

“It’s criminal,” You muttered. 

“Are you saying that because he forged your signature, or because it’s ugly as sin?” 

“Both. Come on.” 

You walked up to the front door, punching in the code that the realtor had given you to get the door open. 

The foyer was as flat and uninspired as the outside of the house—white marble floors, grey walls, and sterling silver furnishings. You grimaced as you looked around. 

“Are we doing a complete walk through of this millennial grey gulag?”

“If you’re going to hate it, you can wait in the car,” You offered, glancing toward Harvey. “Apparently there are fifteen bedrooms and nine bathrooms, and I don’t know how much of your cute commentary I can deal with today.” 

“Seemed to handle it fine in the car.” Harvey turned left before you could say or do anything else, and you followed him, looking down at the property’s map. 

“This place oughta have one of those fricking mall maps with a star labeled ‘You Are Here’,” You grumbled. 

“Now who’s making cute comments.” 

– 

“My feet hurt,” You groaned, plopping onto a boxy, stiff-cushioned couch. 

“You’d think after the last couple of months of living in that walk-up, you’d be in better shape.”

“You’d think.”

“It’s all those cheese fries.”

“Oh—shut up.” 

“So, what do you think?”

“I think we throw it on the market for 18 million and I forget that it ever existed.”

“Why list it in your name, though?”

You shrugged, looking around. “Maybe it was in both our names when he bought it and the outcome was such a disaster he decided to leave my name on it. I think he designed it.”

“Really?” Harvey’s brows rose as he looked around. 

“Oh, god yeah. Steven can be smart, but he’s never really had any design sense. I wound up taking charge on some of our early flip projects because he just didn’t have the eye for it. He always tried, but I kinda wound up following behind and fixing his messes. If I had to guess, he bought this place to show me that he really could do it, and he just…Can’t.”

“Do you think Cape Cod and Gstaad will be the same?” 

“Doubtful. The report for Cape Cod said that the house was originally built in 1950…what. Four?”

“Something like that.” 

“It looks like he gutted it like he did the apartment buildings and realized how much of a project it would be. Gave up on it.” 

“And Gstaad?” 

“Work out how to expense the trip and we can talk.”

Harvey chuckled, wandering closer. “Should we christen it?”

“Christen what?”

“This house.”

“How?”

Harvey’s brows waggled salaciously, and you laughed, pushing yourself off of the couch. “Oh no, Specter. No way—”

“Why not?”

“You wanna christen every room? You don’t have the stamina for that—And I don’t have the patience.” 

“What about just in here?” He curled his arm around your waist, drawing you closer. “On that stupid couch, over the piano…How about up against the windows?” His voice dropped to a murmur. “There’s no one around for miles.” 

You rolled your eyes despite your amusement. 

“If you said that with the Kubrick stare, I’d think you were going all Jack Torrence on me.”

“Heeeeeeeere’s Harvey.”

“Ugh! God, let’s just go,” You pushed out of Harvey’s arms, heading for the door. “It’s kinda creepy being here, you know. Like Steven’s watching.” 

“The house can’t be haunted, he’s not dead.” 

“He is to me.”

–

“When are you planning on going to Cape Cod?” 

“Mm…Probably next week.”

“Driving up?”

“Taking the train.”

“Again with the train.” 

“I don’t have a car and I’m not going to rent one.”

“Are you staying overnight?”

“No.”

“You’re going to go up and back on the train in one day? That is a long day.”

“I can handle it.” 

“You’d be more comfortable in a car.” 

“Yeah, obviously—Eyes on the road, Specter.” You reached out, poking his cheek as he glanced over at you. He batted your hand away lazily before turning back to the road. 

“Why do you always insist on doing things in the most difficult way possible?”

“Because in most cases, the most difficult choice is also the most cost-effective. Efficiencies can be cruel, Harvey.”

“Cruel is an understatement.” 

“I can handle a day on the train.”

“If you say so.” 

“I do say so, thank you.” 

“Stubborn.” 

“...Do you wanna come up when we get back to my place?”

“What for?” 

You tipped your head to the side, waiting for Harvey to glance over before you teasingly waggled your brows.

“Oh, so now you want to?” 

“I wanted to then! But I couldn’t do it if I felt Steven looming over me. C’mon, Specter,” You reached out, gently teasing your nails along the back of his neck, and grinning as he shifted slightly in his seat. “See if you can get me any more out of breath than walking up six flights of stairs.” 

--  

“Hey, there you are! Jessica needs to—What’s that face for?” Mike’s concern fell away at the sight of Harvey’s self-satisfied smile as he stepped off of the elevator. Harvey gave a dismissive shrug. What the hell was he going to tell Mike? That he’d spent the weekend somewhere other than his place? That he had fallen asleep with her, and remembered how serene it used to be to wake up with her? That they’d hardly left her cruddy apartment—hell, they’d hardly left her bed? 

“Nothing. What were you saying?” 

“Jessica needs to see you.” 

“Right now?” 

No sooner had the words left his mouth did Jessica step out from around the corner, drawing him up short. 

“Yes,” She insisted firmly. “Right now.” 

Harvey had the strange sense of a child being marched to the principal as she led her way to her office. She shut the door behind the two of them, striding past him to her desk. 

“Can this wait?” Harvey hedged. “I’ve got coffee going cold on my desk.” 

“Well then, I’ll make this quick. Did you have a nice time this weekend?"

That should've been his warning. It was a solid leading question, and one that, on any other Monday, he would not have hesitated to answer. His eyes narrowed slightly, before he decided—Yes, she must have known that he drove to the Hamptons. Someone would have told Jessica: Mike was still in the habit of offering updates when he thought they would be helpful.

"Yes," He finally answered.

"Was it a productive trip?"

A second warning. Jessica was a strategist, and Harvey knew that any lawyer worth a damn didn't ask a question that they didn't already know the answer to. Still, he chose a carefully middle-of-the-road answer:

"She was happy to go through the home herself, set a listing price. Hopefully we can get it on the market and on its way as soon as possible.”

Jessica took that in thoughtfully, lips set in a placid smile.

"Were there any outstanding features?"

A third and final warning, but Harvey couldn't help but lean into it:

"Are we talking about the tennis court, the pool, the stables, or the thousand lawns?"

Jessica let out a tepid, flatly amused, "Hm," Before beckoning him closer. "Well if those all caught your eye, it would explain why you missed the cameras."

Harvey froze in his step, blood running cold. There was no way—Cameras? His gaze dropped to the laptop that she turned to face him. The black and white footage was grainy, but clear enough. Harvey watched as he wrapped his arm around her, drawing her into his chest. He could still feel the heat of her body, and the plush slide of her sweater beneath his fingers. He could see the gentle, adoring way that she gazed up at him before she nudged him away, leading the charge out of the house. 

‘It’s kinda creepy being here, you know. Like Steven’s watching.’ He didn’t know how, but she had felt it. 

"Where did that come from."

"I'll give you three guesses."

"Let me explain—"

"Explain what!" Jessica slammed the laptop closed, rounding the desk with self-righteous strides. "Explain what idiotic idea led to you putting on a show?"

"We didn't know that there were cameras."

"How long has this been going on?"

"We only went to see that one house."

Jessica's expression darkened as she shook her head.

"Don't play dumb with me, Harvey," She warned lowly. "How long have you been sleeping with her."

It hit him low in the gut. For a moment, he was too stunned to speak.

"She told you?"

"No, she didn't tell me. She didn't have to. It'll be plain as day to anyone who sees that footage."

"That’s not true, we were just—"

"Just what?"

"I was teasing her! It didn't mean anything."

"If I call and ask her, she'll say the same thing?"

He was certain of it. "Yes."

"Would she swear to it under oath? At a deposition? In court?"

His surety faltered, and his mouth worked wordlessly before he pursed his lips tightly. Jessica shook her head again.

"I am not the only one with access to this. Luckily for you—for both of you—she still has a friend or two on the inside. Aaron Delaney sent this to me before he deleted the original. He works closely with Steven, and has access to a few property accounts. He got an alert on his phone that someone had used the keypad to open the door."

"Has Steven seen it?"

"He isn't sure, but I'm not willing to take that chance. Louis will be taking over the Hayward case, and Mike will be assisting him."

"No, Jessica, that's not happening."

"It is, because I'm telling you that it is. You should be relieved. You never wanted it in the first place."

"Things are different now."

"You're damn right they are! What the hell were you thinking? Both of you?"

"Let me see this case through."

"If you see this through and Hayward does have access to this footage, you could be disbarred. You're going to hand the files over to Louis by the end of the day. He is expecting them. Mike will bring him up to speed and assist him until this mess is cleared up."

Harvey lowered his gaze to the floor as Jessica stepped around him, opening the door and waiting beside it. He curled his hands into fists in his pockets as he strode resignedly from the office.

"And so help you," Jessica warned as he passed, "If I hear that you are holding Louis up in any way."

Harvey only made it a few feet from the office before he pulled his phone out of his pocket, hurriedly dialing her number. It rang once...Twice...Three times...And went to voicemail.

"Damnit," He hissed, lowering the phone to redial. "C'mon, c'mon..." It rang once, "Pick up." Twice...

"Hey you."

"Where are you?"

"What do you mean?" She laughed, "I'm on my way to see Jessica for our check-in."

Fuck.

"How close are you?"

"I just got off of the elevator. Why?"

Harvey whirled around, eyes desperately searching for her through the gaggle of associates, paralegals, and lawyers going about their business.

"She knows."

"What?"

He could hear her frown. Harvey took three steps toward the elevator bay before he saw her come into view—and lock eyes with Jessica. He saw her body go tense, before her shoulders sagged with dejection.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Hell," She sighed before hanging up.

--

"I'm not going to even begin to approach what you may have been thinking—"

"Jessica—"

"—Putting not only your future, Harvey’s future, and the future of this firm in jeopardy."

"I wasn't thinking."

"Clearly."

"We didn't even do anything at the house!"

"That doesn't make the slightest bit of difference."

You slid down in your seat as Jessica paced in front of you, her pace and turn reminiscent of a caged tiger.

"I did you a favor and this is how you repay me?" She finally stilled, nailing you with a cold gaze. You folded further under the crush of her look, so similar to the disbelief that she had leveled you with at her apartment not too long ago.

"I'm sorry."

"You should be." Jessica strode around her desk. "Your case has been reassigned to Louis Litt. Mike will stay on, provided you haven't fucked him, too."

Christ. "I made a mistake, alright? I told you I was sorry, and I meant it," You insisted. "Don't bring Mike into this when he hasn't done anything wrong."

Jessica bristled as she lowered herself into her seat.

"I don't want you associating with Harvey until this is over."

"Oh—Come on."

"If this footage were to come out, Harvey's conduct and ethics will be called into question. He'll be dragged into your divorce proceedings. Is that what you want?"

Your stomach churned uneasily as you considered it. You knew she was right. You shook your head a little, trying desperately to swallow past the lump that was forming in your dry throat.

"Louis and Mike will be in touch."

"Okay." You turned, heading for her office door, and stopping just before you opened it.

"...Is now a bad time to remind you that bringing Harvey onto my case was your idea?"

The chilling glare that she leveled with answered for her: Yes. It was a very bad time to remind her.

--

“You slept with—” 

“Shut the door and keep your voice down,” Harvey warned stonily. Before either of them could move toward his office door, Donna hurried into view, reaching for the handle. 

“You don’t wanna hear this?” Mike’s brows rose. “You of all people?” 

Donna waved him away, offering, “Intercom,” Before she shut the door. Harvey sighed heavily, lowering himself into his chair. 

“What happened?” Mike stepped closer to the desk. “I’m just—You two hate each other.” 

“Thank you for the reminder. I forgot about that.” 

“Harvey, c’mon,” Mike shook his head as he tried (and failed) to keep from smiling. “What happened?” 

“I went over to hang out.” 

“At her apartment?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay, and? Instead of hanging out you…Let it all hang out?” 

“Get out of my office.”

“If that was at her apartment, what happened in the Hamptons?” 

“Nothing happened in the Hamptons. The footage just…We got close, that’s all.” 

“That’s not enough to disbar you.” 

“Because you’re the expert on being disbarred? It’s enough to call my ethics into question…And Jessica’s right, no one needs that headache right now.”  

“So I’m stuck with Louis because you got close? Where’s the Specter spirit? No way are you going to watch this one from the sidelines.” 

On any other case, no, he wouldn’t. Harvey would insist on backseat driving. But on this one…He grimaced, dropping his gaze to his desk. 

“I want regular updates,” He insisted. “That’s all.” 

Mike nodded slowly, conceding: “Okay. But I’ll be ready when you change your mind.” 

-- 

"I'll come over."

He sounded so positive about it—like nothing had happened, or changed. You eyed the remaining trash bags, trying to scrounge up the conviction of an excuse. 

"I don't think that's a good idea right now."

"Why not?"

You know why. You shifted your phone from one hand to the other, tucking it between your shoulder and your ear as you reached out, gripping a bag to make it crinkle loudly.

"I've still got some sorting to do."

"I'll help you."

"Not tonight, Harvey."

"...She's not in charge of us, you know."

You tipped your head back against your wall, closing your eyes. "She's actually very much in charge of you."

"At work."

"I know, but I just..." You winced. "I think she's right. We should lay low for a while. If Steven did see that video before Aaron sent it to Jessica, we're both going to have a whole new mess that we're stepping into."

"I'm ready for it."

"...I don't know if I am."

His silence on the other end made you want to crawl out of your skin. "I can only fight one battle at a time, Harvey—And right now, I'm barely managing the big ones."

"Fine."

You knew that fine coming from him. It wasn't fine. It was I'm shutting down. It was I'm finished with this conversation. It was I'm finished with you.

"Harvey—"

You lowered the phone from your ear as the line cut off, watching the inevitable flashing and darkening of his contact. You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting back a fresh wave of tears. How, after all this time, was Harvey Specter still able to make you cry?

-- 

You became solitary again. Life narrowed. You saw Aaron a time or two, but he was so busy either working or gathering intel that you were hardly able to keep up with him. For as much of a lifeline as she had been, Jessica was still pissed, and you hardly spoke more than you needed to. Mike was a dear, checking in to see how you were doing, but most correspondence led inevitably to discussing closings, proceedings, contracts (and you couldn’t blame him for it; he was only doing his job). 

Louis was…A lot. He was very eager, that was clear, and had been working hard to push the sales of the apartment buildings and the home in the Hamptons through. David and his firm were digging into discovery, and were making headway. 

But you had so little life outside of your divorce. Most of your pieces were sold off, so you hardly had any day-to-day tasks to keep you busy—and everything in New York was so goddamn expensive. It felt like you spent $50 just stepping out your front door. There were days when you simply didn’t. It was cheaper to stay in, and quieter (so long as your neighbors didn’t have a screaming match that day).

Your life was four walls, a cruddy bed, rickety furniture. You spent too much time awake when you should’ve been sleeping; too much time reminiscing when you should have been moving on; too much time dwelling on the time that you spent with men in your life that probably wouldn’t spare you another thought. 

--  

Walking back into the firm was uncomfortable. You’d avoided it for as long as you could, but Mike insisted that there were a few documents that absolutely had to be seen and signed in the office. You’d made it an entire three weeks without so much as getting anywhere near the building. You found yourself avoiding even glancing in the direction of Jessica’s office. It was alright, though—Donna was a smiling, comforting presence the second you stepped off of the elevator. 

“Find the place alright?” She teased. 

“I did, thank you. I’ve only been here a dozen times in the last couple of months.” 

“It’s been a few weeks. We thought you’d forgotten where we were.” 

You smiled tightly. You were certain that she knew everything that had gone on—she was the eyes and ears of the place. 

“You know, it’s the funniest thing,” You drawled sarcastically, “I kept coming to the right building and getting off on the wrong floor.” 

“Happens to the best of us. C’mon.” 

You frowned as she led you away from the usual conference rooms, and even further away from Louis’ office. You couldn’t imagine where the heck she was taking you—and your confusion deepened as she opened the door to a room lined with files. She nodded you inside, a knowing smile on her lips as she warned: 

“Two minutes.” 

Two minutes? Until what?

“Thanks, Donna.” Harvey’s voice made you freeze, and you could do nothing but watch Donna close the door behind herself. You looked down at the floor, your hands wringing as you heard Harvey come closer. You felt him stop close behind you, close enough to feel the heat of him.

“...Are you going to look at me?” He hedged softly. 

“No need. I know what you look like.” 

He sighed softly, stepping around to stand in front of you. You watched as his shoes and pant legs came into view. 

“...And you’re just going to look at my shoes now?” 

“They’re nice shoes. Look expensive.” 

“They are.” 

“Figures.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

You looked at him fully, finally, stunned. You were surprised at how drawn he looked. Sure, his suit was impeccable, and his hair was frustratingly perfect, but you could see tiredness around his eyes. 

“You’re going through hell right now,” Harvey went on, “You don’t need me to pile on to that. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” 

You nodded slowly as you took it all in. “Well. We should never have, um…” You cleared your throat, averting your gaze again. “It was stupid.” 

“You regret it?” 

“It’s not worth risking your career over.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” Harvey closed the space between the two of you, and you had to force yourself not to lean into him the way you wanted—the way you’d missed for weeks. 

“Harvey,” You warned softly. “I can’t keep playing tug of war with you like this. I’m already at the end of my damn rope.” 

“I know.” 

You closed your eyes at the feeling of his palms sliding warmly over your arms, trailing down until he could gently intertwine your fingers. 

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” He promised, “Until we’re on the other side of this, and your business with the firm is closed out.” 

“And then what?” 

“And then I’ll give you hell.” You spluttered a laugh, unable to help it. Harvey chuckled softly, his nose nudging yours gently. 

“I should go,” You warned softly. “Louis will come looking for me.” 

“Donna will keep him at bay.” 

“She said two minutes. It’s been at least three—” You hardly had time to finish your protestation before Harvey kissed you. You swayed into him, lips slipping tenderly against his as he used his grasp to draw you flush against him. You wiggled your hands from his, curling your arms around his shoulders to keep close. You startled at the two knocks on the door, and smiled as Harvey groaned in irritation. 

“I should let you go,” He mumbled. You nodded, murmured,

“Probably.” 

But neither of you rushed to move. 

-- 

“I'm sorry to see you go. I've enjoyed our time together."

You sort of believed it, given the pinched, almost pained look that Louis leveled you across the desk. And, for all of your work with him over the last three months, you'd gained a sort of affinity for the man...Even if he was a little intense in a way that sometimes confused you. You smiled, taking up the final few documents that you would need for your record.

"I appreciate that, and thank you for all of your hard work, Mr. Litt. It's been..." You weighed your words carefully, "Interesting."

"For me, too. Reach out if you need anything else—doc review, mover recommendations, tickets to the ballet. Anything."

"Tickets to the ballet? I'm impressed." You held your hand out, smiling as he stood and pumped it enthusiastically. "Thank you again."

You were hardly four steps out of Louis' office when you found yourself flanked in the hallway.

"We should celebrate," Harvey insisted.

"And how would we do that?"

"Dinner at La Belle Vache."

Your brows rose as you glanced toward Mike.

"’The beautiful cow’?"

"Harvey's idea."

"With a restaurant name like that, it would have to be."

"Hey, that is not fair! I could be posh."

"It wouldn't suit you, Mr. Ross."

"Is that a yes or a no to dinner?" Harvey plied.

"When?"

"You busy tonight?"

"If I told you I had plans, would you believe me?"

"Not for a second."

"Well, I do."

"Cancel 'em."

"It's with my divorce lawyer."

"And here feels like a good stopping point for me." Mike wheeled around, striding back in the direction that he came.

"What the hell does David want with you after hours?" 

"Deposition starts next week. We're drilling testimony."

"As long as that's all he's drilling."

"Watch it, Specter." You reached out, jabbing the down button on the elevator before turning back to Harvey. He pouted contemplatively before offering: "What about this weekend?"

"I think I could swing this weekend. Is dinner on the firm?"

"It's on me."

"Do you think..." You trailed off, glancing toward Jessica's office, "That the powers that be will approve?"

"Honestly?" Harvey lowered his voice,"I don't give a damn. It's been months. Your business here is wrapped. If Jessica wants to give me a good reason why I can't see you, she's welcome to try—but it won't work."

You bit the inside of your cheek to quell a smile as you reached out, gently straightening Harvey's tie.

"Very forceful, Mr. Specter."

"You like it?"

"It's kinda hot." You turned back and stepped onto the elevator as it chimed.

"This weekend," You finally agreed. "Invite Mike—He's earned several dinners."

"He sure has."

The doors began to close, but Harvey darted in, catching them before they could shut all the way. He darted in, pressing a swift, warm kiss to your lips before he drew away again. You grinned as he stepped back, allowing the doors to close.

--

"As long as that's all he's drilling."

The memory of Harvey's teasing warning was on your mind throughout your time with David, and you found yourself fighting back smiles all evening.

"Do you have any plans for the weekend?"

David watched you from beneath his lashes as he asked, and where that look had intrigued you once, you knew better. You gave a short, firm nod, and insisted: "I have a date."

Your battle with Steven was far from over. You still had forgery cases pending, and your divorce case had hardly begun. But things felt a little lighter these days.

You had a direction, you had cash flow...But you didn't quite have the plan that you once did. You had told Harvey months ago that you were considering moving to Cambridge. It hadn’t completely ceased to be true, but it wasn’t your only consideration anymore. 

There were moments when you could see the glimmer of a life to carve out for yourself: a smaller real estate firm with a few employees—maybe Aaron, if you could lure him away from Steven; a more comfortable apartment than where you were now, but you could live with where you were for a few more months as you got things in order; and, at the very least, a friendship with Harvey. You didn’t know if what the two of you were doing would be sustainable, and you weren’t sure whether either of you really wanted to know—but after all this time, you thought that maybe the two of you deserved another chance. 

--  

“Impressed?” 

It was a fair question, but you were doing your best to school your expression. You didn’t want Harvey to know outright how much you did like his apartment. It was nothing less than you expected—large (though not quite in the palatial way that your old penthouse was), tastefully decorated, with a gorgeous view. You knew why Harvey had brought you up, of course, but now he was just showing off. 

Dinner had been its own round of grandstanding. You and Mike had watched, bemused, as Harvey had gone out of his way to pronounce all of the dishes in a French accent to the clearly not French (but feigning awe) waiter (who you were sure had to deal with this multiple times a day). Harvey had also taught you and Mike a thing or two about wine—or he had tried to, until Mike seemed no longer able to help himself and corrected Harvey on multiple facts about the Rhône valley in the south of France. 

It had been a far more pleasant evening that you had expected to have, and far more jovial than you’d had in a long time. Mike and Harvey were close; you and Harvey had a history; you and Mike had become friends over the course of your time working with him. When Mike had insisted that you all had to do this again sometime, you believed that he meant it. And when Harvey had invited you both up for a nightcap, Mike had politely declined with a smile and a shake of his head, offering:

“I think I should let you two have some time to do…Whatever it is that you need to do.” 

You hadn’t been entirely sure what he’d meant, or what Harvey had told him. You were almost certain that he would’ve been told why Harvey had been taken off of your case in the first place. And sure, now and again, over dinner, you and Harvey had caught one another’s eye, maybe shared a smile. Maybe he’d rested his hand on your knee a time or two, given it a squeeze—because he could. Because the two of you were close and on even footing for the first time in a while. 

“It’s…” You trailed off, shrugging. “Certainly an apartment.” 

“Oh, please,” Harvey scoffed, taking two wine glasses down from the cabinet. “You’re impressed.” 

“It’s nicer than I thought it would be.” 

“You’re dazzled.” 

“I like the kitchen.” 

“You’re helplessly turned on.” 

“‘Helplessly’ is pushing it.” 

“So you admit that you’re turned on?” 

You rolled your eyes, no longer bothering to fight your smile off. 

“Maybe,” You offered, settling onto the couch and kicking off your shoes. Harvey joined you moments later, passing you a glass of wine and gently clinking his against yours before you each took sips. His gaze remained heavy on yours, and he leaned in for a gentle kiss as soon as you lowered your glass. You hummed, raising a hand and cupping his jaw. You leaned back just a touch, smiling as he crowded closer, dipping his head to brush kisses along your neck as his warm palm gently smoothed up your thigh. 

“...Harvey?” 

“Sure, I can show you the bedroom.” 

You laughed softly, shaking your head a little. “Can we talk about it?” 

He groaned, forehead dropping heavily against your shoulder. “Why do you always insist on ruining a perfectly good time?” 

“Like when?”

“Like when we were in the Hamptons.” 

“You thank your lucky fucking stars that I put a stop to that.” 

“Yeah,” He grumbled, leaning back. You watched him swirl his wine in his glass. 

“Please,” You pleaded softly. 

“...I didn’t write the note.” 

Fuck. 

“Okay.” 

“I wrote a note, but…Not that one.” 

“Who wrote that one?” 

“Scottie.” 

“...Okay.” 

“I couldn’t find the one I’d written, she insisted that I couldn’t leave you with nothing.” 

“Well, she was right.” 

“Yeah.” 

You that that sink in for a moment before you pressed: “Why did you leave?”

“I had doubts.” 

“About me?” 

“About us. You know how my parents were, you know…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “You know what I saw.” 

“And you thought I would do that to you?” 

“I was afraid of it.” 

“If you were afraid of it, then you thought I was capable of it.” 

“—And when you got married to Steven so quickly—” 

“Oh—!” The heavy, stunned, indignant laugh was pained as it left you. You pushed off of the couch, standing and walking out of Harvey’s reach. You heard him sigh heavily behind you, chased by the clink of him setting his wine glass down as he muttered, “This is why I didn’t want to talk about this.” 

“Do you know why I got married so quickly?” You whirled around to face him. 

“Because you loved Steven?” 

“I never said that. I thought I loved him a bit, sure, but I was afraid that this,” You waved a finger between the two of you, “Would happen again. I thought he would leave. I was afraid that I would spend my entire life being left. So when Steven showed me the slightest bit of attention, I latched on. We eloped. He wanted a big wedding, but I just,” You waved your hand around, “I couldn’t do that a second time. Any of it. I didn’t get a new dress, neither of our families were there, because I knew that they would all watch me, and him, and they’d be thinking it: Is it going to happen again?” 

“You’re saying your entire life with Steven was my fault?” 

“I’m saying that I made a choice, and that what happened with you was a factor—Not a fault, a factor. And why!” You let out another harsh hysterical laugh as tears welled in your eyes, “Why didn’t you just talk to me? What did I do then to make you think that you couldn’t talk to me?”

“I wasn’t ready!” 

“And we could have talked about that! What made you think that I wouldn’t have been alright with moving the wedding back, or going to counseling with you, or whatever you would have needed to get us there?”

“You wanted to get married.”

“I wanted you, Harvey! I would have waited, I—” You turned away, sniffling heavily as tears slipped from your eyes. “Fuck. Ugh.” You raised your glass, draining it before striding over the counter, desperate to put some more distance between the two of you. You set the glass down and yanked a paper towel off of the roll, swiping at your under eyes to clear away any running mascara. You blew your nose as well before balling up the tissue and lobbing it toward the trash can. You heard Harvey’s approaching footsteps, and you pulled in a deep, stuttering breath as he rested his hands on your shoulders. 

“...There’s no way for me to take back or change what I did.” 

“Would you if you could?” 

“Yes.”

“...Okay.” 

“Do you believe me?” 

“I don’t know.” 

He sighed, pressing a kiss to the back of your head as his hands soothingly rubbed over your arms. You sniffled again, swiping away a stray tear before resting your hands on the counter. 

“You changed the way that I love, Harvey,” You shook your head. “For better or worse, whether you meant to or not, you changed it.” You glanced back toward him. “I can’t get those bits of myself back. You took them from me.” 

“I know. I took them from both of us.” 

You nodded, slowly letting yourself lean back against him. His arms curled around your middle, and you heard a soft, almost relieved groan leave him. You let your eyes close as he pressed a kiss to your temple. The two of you stood there in silence for a few moments, allowing yourselves to settle. 

“...Stay tonight?” He murmured after a few moments. You nodded, smiling as his hold tightened on you again, as if wary that you would change your mind. 

-- 

He had a few more smile lines. His hair still mussed the same; he still made little mumbling noises as he slowly rose from sleep to consciousness. He was still a furnace to sleep beside, and he still held you through the night. It was almost a relief that none of that had changed. 

Waking up in his arms made you feel like it had when you were younger: safe, and loved, and wanted. You hadn't appreciated it when you'd had it just a few months ago, but you were desperate to catch on to every little bit of him now.

You were never going to be able to turn back the hands of time—to go back and warn him, or yourself, or someone that your first wedding day would be a disaster, that it would set you off on a path that you could never have anticipated for yourself. Discussing what had happened hadn't truly healed any of your old wounds.

But as the sun began to creep over the Manhattan skyline and seep into Harvey’s bedroom, you felt closer to peace than you had in a long, long time. 

Harvey snuffled, nuzzling your shoulder as his fingers curled in your borrowed nightshirt. 

“You awake?” He mumbled, the same low, gravely murmur that you had once loved, and missed. 

“Mmmhm.” 

“Want coffee?” 

“Yes.” 

He yawned widely, pressing his face into your shoulder and warming your skin through the fabric. “Bagels?” 

“Sure.” 

“‘Kay.” 

Neither of you made a move to get either. Instead, you combed your fingers through his hair, closed your eyes, and listened to the steady rise and fall of his breathing as you both fell back asleep. 

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @gina239 ; @technicallykawaiisoul ; @coldheart-lonelysoul ; @kathrinemelissa ; @jacxx2 ; @pillowjj ; @chanaaaannel ; @avampirescholar ; @kmc1989 ; @mythical-goth ;

[loseractivities]

Ok time to yap about Billy Loomis. What is bros sexuality?

Billy is 100% gay. I also think that he’s on the aromantic/asexual spectrum, with the best label fitting him being demiaroace. In simple terms, I think the only way he feels authentic romantic/sexual attraction is when he has a very deep emotional, (whether he likes to admit that or not), bond with someone.

People often like to bring up his romantic relationship with Sidney and his sexual affairs with other women, one of which we have proof of in the later movies. Because he was dating Sidney before his mom even left, and they were known to have started off “hot and heavy”, (as Billy likes to call it), he didn’t really have any reason to be doing that. Or did he?!

It goes without being said that Billy is a conventionally attractive white male in the ‘90s. In the movie, we already see Billy’s efforts to appear as normal as possible, wearing bland clothes with little room for interpretation and speaking very little to others. Which leads to why Billyboy was sleeping with girls when he was a big fat QUEER!! …

Billy loves control! He loves it, he loves planning everything out and acting it out like it’s a movie because of his dumb special interest. He loves predictability, he loves feeling normal, and he loves having control over people. What better way to feel in control, (perhaps of his own sexuality), than by sleeping with and casually dating girls!! It makes so much sense.

How does Stu play into this?

Well firstly Stu is Billy’s only real friend. Through subtext we can tell that Billy trusts Stu a lot, considering he trusted him to 1. Call Sidney while he was in jail. 2. Be ghostface with him and have him not tell anyone. 3. Literally fucking stab him… The list goes on. People like to say that Stu didn’t know Billy’s real motive too, which is fucking stupid because why wouldn’t Billy tell him this?? One entire year between murdering Sidney’s mother and then eventually attempting to murder her and all her friends, and you’re telling me Stu wouldn’t have suspected a thing? Just for fun?? Yeah right!

Also people try to say “okay, well then why did Billy stab him so much in the kitchen if he wasn’t trying to kill him”? Firstly it was always part of the plan for Stu and Billy to be the only survivors because only one survivor is extremely suspicious. Secondly you can tell he was just not thinking clearly, he acted on his anger and lost focus of his goal (KILLING SIDNEY??NOT HIS BF??) which is something he NEVER DOES!!

Man,, the whole final act is my favorite, because it really shows both Billy and Stu coming apart and quite literally COMING OUT as the killers. Come on guys. Media. Fucking. Literacy. They literally penetrate each other right in front of Billy’s girlfriend, and that shit was freaky as fuck.

ANYway I’m going off on a tangent. I do wanna talk about why Billy didn’t explicitly say anything about being gay when he so very obviously is. Billy, in all areas, is much less obvious than Stu.

He’s closed off, secretive, keeps up a pretty believable facade to everyone until the finally is able to drop the act. It makes sense he isn’t as physically or verbally affectionate with Stu, and for this reason people are more inclined to believe Stu is gay and in love with Billy more than Billy is gay and in love with him. Well, in order to get a good sense of Billy’s relationship with Stu, you have to look deeper. Let’s start with some things from the script, since there are very few scenes with the two interacting.

Stu and Billy, in the script, are best friends, have known each other since kindergarten, and are partners in crime. Billy obviously is capable of forming strong bonds and connections with very specific people. Even unhealthily so, and we see this in the relationship he has with his mother. He idolizes her, victimizes her, makes her more than she was as a coping mechanism and never officially comes to terms with the fact his mom probably wasn’t as great as he remembers. And when his mom leaves, he breaks, needs control (as stated previously) because his life is suddenly unstable and who does he turn to? Stu!

Also I just wanna say when Stu drapes over his back Billy leans into him okay thanks. Body language in this movie means SO FUCKING MUCH TO ME these actors did amazing. When Billy follows Sidney inside the look of CONTEMPT ON HIS FACE!! The way he looks through his eyelashes. The acting is impeccable Skeety, I love you!!!! 😐😐 Also the way Billy looks at Stu before stabbing himmm…He;s in love I promise. In whatever way he knows how

Lastly the boy has autism

Passionate interests, he loves horror movies and constantly references them throughout the film. Even at unconventional times, like when his girlfriend is venting about her dead mother. Eye contact and too much staring. Meltdowns when overstimulated. The whole last act was just him stimming and destroying shit because stuff didn’t go his way. Bad reactions when plans are interrupted. At the staircase when Sid runs away he punches himself in frustration. Talks with hands in Sidney���s room about The Exorcist. Favorite person/people (his mom and Stu). Extremely overdramatic. When he got fake stabbed. When he falls down the fucking stairs for no reason. Finally, just socially awkward. Any word out of his mouth makes people uneasy. Ez

…Finally for Billy I js wanna say he arches it a lot and I think only someone who takes it like a good boy wpu;ld do that Ok im done by.e

LIKE AND SUBSCRIBE FOR MORE BANGERS LIKE THIS ONE

[thechocolatearmor]

OK OK OK OK OK people talk about sniper, or pyro, or medic being autistic right?

B u t

What if I told you all of them are?

Every single one.

Engineer? He's autistic. Soldier? Autistic. Frickin Spy?? Omgsh he's so autistic

So because my brain won't stop itching about this I'm going to write up a collection of all the evidence I have for why the TF2 mercenaries possess within their beings the big tism. By the time this is over y'all are going to be very sick of the word autism.

But IDC

So without further ado, let's go through each of these silly mercs one at a time:

Scout:

Alright, first up we got Scout. Scout I would consider to be AuDHD for multiple reasons

The ADHD is more obvious but like dude trust me he's autistic too

He's hyperactive, forgetful, gets distracted easily, kind of the basic stereotypical ADHD stuff you would notice immediately. He stims, he fidgets, he struggles in social situations, he's seen as over the top and a bit annoying, he talks a lot

Now a lot of these traits are things that are common for both autistics and adhders. But I wanna point out some things I notice about him that are autism specific

He has a special interest: It's Tom Jones. Honestly he probably has a special interest about baseball too

But I mean c'mon he's literally has a Tom Jones tattoo

You could argue this is just a hyperfixation but I bet it's been going on for a while

He also has "spikey" skills. Really good at stuff like drawing, dancing, sports, but he sucks at things like reading, math, etc

Mostly what makes me see him as autistic it's how he struggles in social situations. Bro doesn't know how to flirt unless he's got a bucket of chicken on hand

Soldier:

Honestly if anyone's autistic coded it's soldier

Special interest is all things American, especially if it relates to the military

Lots of autistic people wear certain items that remind them of something they like, usually disregarding things like how it looks or even whether or not it's comfortable. Soldier's helmet is way too big for him but he's almost always wearing it anyway

In meet the spy he does "hut hut hut" when he's doing down the stairs and it makes me so happy

He has no filter, he takes things really literally, he often sees suggestions as orders (teleporting bread anyone?)

Also when he says he's been doing nothing but teleport bread for 3 days it makes me think he must've been hyperfocused on that

I don't think he knows anything about volume control since he's yelling everything

What kind of neurotypical fights bears in Siberia while naked and covered in honey

He speaks his mind rather than beating around the bush

His helmet could also double as helping him avoid eye contact

Pyro:

Tell me they don't have aversion to like every texture besides their suit you can't

A lot of their animations are super stimmy

Pretty much nonspeaking

Has childish interests

Could also have schizophrenia? (I'm relatively uninformed about it tho so I might not be a good person to judge)

I bet half of their little mmph mmmph noises are audio stims

Special interest is fire

their stim is ARSON

Demo:

I headcanon him as AuDHD too

I mean tbf a lot of how he is is more related to alcoholism but shhh let me have this

But I mean he made friends with Soldier

Special interest in medieval weapons which would explain why he's crazy about swords?

Drinking could be an unhealthy coping mechanism/safe food

Probably also depressed with how he can never live up to his family's expectations

Infodumping about bombs in his introduction video

Honestly most of my "evidence" for him is just fanon but idc I like autistic Demoman

Heavy:

Whether or not him having a PhD in Russian literature is canon, some of his in game lines show him to be very poetic and thoughtful

The fact that he only has a few food items but always seems super happy to be eating them gives me safe food vibes

He sings and hums a lot, probably as a stim

He has the Resting Autism Face™

Special interest in his gun

A lot of his voice lines also just feel really stimmy to me, especially when he's doing the "YATATATATATA" thing

Not sure he has any volume control either

Seems to genuinely enjoy Medic's morbid stories, at least to a point

He really really really really really likes the song of the Volga boatmen in particular

He's the prettiest princess it's canon, you can't be a pretty princess without being autistic /j

He has a tiny bed for Sasha. HE HAS A TINY BED FOR SASHA

Heavy is often criticized as a class because guess gameplay is relatively simple and can become a little stale for a lot of people. Yet Heavy seems to have some of the most excited voice lines in the game. I feel like this emphasizes how much he thrives in routine, since he seemingly never gets bored of just doing his thing

Engie:

He has 11 phds

A lot of his voice lines also sound really stimmy to me. Either he's going YEEHAWW GIDDY UP or he's yelling DAMNIT DAGNABIT DANGIT DAGGIT NABBIT

Probably a lot of echolalia with that too

He humanizes his buildings and cares for them like a mother bird

Just listen to his genuinely heartbroken when his sentry gets taken down!

When playing Engie sometimes I find myself smacking stuff with my wrench even though I KNOW it's already level 3 and maxed and whatnot, or I KNOW I'm out of metal, just because I wanna hear the clang noise. So this point is just me projecting but I love the mental image of Engie giving his things a few extra whacks too

He sawed off his arm for his special interest

His whole monologue in meet the engineer is so autistic sounding to me

His dancing taunt also feels stimmy

He's always hunched over, implying irregular posture

He's a NERD—

Man of many talents including playing the guitar

Never takes those goggles off

How does he turn a stressful TF2 match into a (not so) relaxing tower defense game?

Medic:

I headcanon him as AuDHD too because he seems really scatterbrained and it feels like he's working on several things at once and always

He talks a LOT. definitely an infodumper

Either he's super stern or really giggly, there is no in between

He wears gloves in battle but not while doing surgery??? Does he just like organ textures??? Wacko

Special interest is obviously whatever the heck kinda of mad science he does

Here's a heavy medic headcanon I have: medic likes deep pressure hugs

Another special interest could be his birds

He's very spontaneous which makes me think AuDHD even more

Look how excited he gets when taking about the tumors in expiration date!

He got the organ stealing autism

Is it just me or does he fixate on baboon organs in particular???

Sniper:

I'm pretty sure all of you know why this man is autistic but I'm going to list some reasons here anyway

My main evidence tho are his Halloween voice lines: https://youtu.be/2WDljNAslys?si=JP25VOGGDWwwoCI7

Exhibit a, look how much he enjoys having an owl head

Exhibit b, lots of those voice lines make him sound really freakin' overstimulated

He probably wears the hat and shades for sensory reasons as well as because they look cool

Obviously the most socially reclusive of the mercs

I love his backstory where he learns he never felt like the other kids because he wasn't actually Australian, but what if he also didn't fit in with the other kids because he's autistic?

Also throwing rocks at people as a kid screams autism to me

No neurotypical would ever throw jars of his own piss at you either

I think he just wants to live in the woods somewhere and never come back to society and honestly that's based

I feel like he would be the type to bite his own arm when stressed (just like me fr 😭)

Extremely meticulous in following his own life rules (ie being professional and having standards, driving safely with the turn signal and everything)

Spy:

Ok just hear me out for this one

Smoking because stim reasons

He's literally and figuratively masking

He's very suave and probably really good with social things, but I feel like it looks like he's just practiced really hard, again MASKING

Who knows he might not even actually be French

Who collects photographic evidence for a ur mom joke

I see him as either being hypersensitive or hyper insensitive to pain depending on the day (his screams + "I do believe I'm on fire.")

Mad butterfly knife tricks as a stim? (Notice he couldn't help but fiddle with them even disguised as scout in meet the spy)

He sucks at dealing with relationships and that's one of the reasons he's a bad dad

He actually really cares about his team and you can see it especially in expiration date but he's not very good at expressing it

Do you think he wears the ski mask for sensory reasons too?

Probably has his suits tailored to not give him any sensory issues, which could be another reason he likes them so much

Believe me I could go on but I think this is enough to get my point across

THEY ARE ALL AUTISTIC >:00

[genericpuff]

hey gen p! i was reading a post of yours where you mentioned LO's age rating and briefly mentioned that minthe was verbally abusive during sex which surprised me bc i didnt really remember her being accused of doing so outside of the slap/havent come across any other accusation since, so i've been defending her against abuse allegations, maybe mistakenly, bc i stopped reading the comic at some point. is it too much to ask for some instances where she *was* abusive so i can correct my outlook?? thx! :3

oh so it's really just one scene and it's waaay back in Episode 8-

like i'm gonna assume this isn't a consensual kink play thing LOL but also like. I wanna make it clear also that people don't necessarily defend Minthe as not being abusive, many people who defend her are well aware that she's done abusive shit. They defend Minthe because 1.) she has a lot more potential for well-written character development than Hades and Persephone (as she's actually genuinely flawed as per the narrative vs. Hades and Persephone who are flawed but we're still expected to believe they're perfect, so unlike H x P Minthe actually has potential to do better and grow like characters should!) and 2.) a lot of Minthe's abuse towards Hades isn't necessarily justified but is a lot more understandable when you really analyze Hades and realize that he is, in fact, a piece of shit LOL

like don't get me wrong, I don't think Minthe was in the right by treating Hades like shit and escalating it to the slap, there are FAR better things she should have done... but I and many others defend her on the basis that she doesn't have the self-respect or resources necessary to look out for herself in a more productive way, much of which was facilitated by Hades trapping her in a financially abusive relationship. When you're worried not only about losing your partner, but also your house and your job with it, that's gonna turn into some unhealthy coping mechanisms and responses like physical and verbal abuse as we see in Minthe. She's someone who's not in control of her situation but is trying to maintain her control through unhealthy means.

Hades, on the flipside, has no excuse when he assaults people or acts like an asshole - he's just able to get away with it through the narrative, its characters, and the readers, because he's the rich and powerful main protagonist.

Minthe is an incredibly flawed person who was self-aware enough to understand what she was doing wasn't right but not equipped enough to do better. She's lower class (according to Rachel, all the nymphs are considered lower class compared to the gods) and was originally written as someone with untreated BPD, which Rachel later retconned (note: the episode where Minthe slaps Hades is literally called Splitting, which is a symptom of BPD, like it's not some assumption or misinterpretation, Rachel literally wrote BPD into the script and then tried to quietly backpedal on it later through Discord.) Hades is an incredibly flawed person who is self-aware of what he's doing, but doesn't see it as wrong and therefore doesn't see any reason to do better. But we're expected to root against the former as an irredeemable villain who can't do better and root for the latter who is an actual monster whose actions are justified and excused by the narrative and its creator.

So yeah, that's why a lot of us defend Minthe. She's not perfect, she's done abusive shit, but unlike Hades and Persephone, she has the capacity to grow and change for the better.

[cripplecharacters]

Do you think it’s ok as a person w/o psychosis to have jokes in a story that revolve around hallucinations? Not in a ‘that person is so crazy hahahaha’ way, more like the humour comes from the character being exasperated because their hallucinations aren’t realistic and are clearly fake to them, but they’re still seeing them and they’re fed up of it.

I partially wanted to include this so that the character’s hallucinations aren’t considered to be only just scary and evil (there are some moments in the story where the hallucinations are more intense because of the character being in a bad mental place, so I wanted to avoid showing hallucinations as only dark), and partially because one of their regular hallucinations revolves around seeing wild animals, and they don’t live in an area where the animals they typically see are common, so naturally they’d be out of place. Also, this idea for the jokes mostly came from the fact that I personally suffer from paranoia/intrusive thoughts, and get very exasperated when I know one of my thoughts is unrealistic, but I’m aware that my experiences are different from people with psychosis, so wanted to check in here. Thanks:3

Hello!

Yes, I think it definitely can be done in a way that's respectful. Psychosis is obviously serious and can be scary, but so are a lot of other things that people make jokes about. I have made jokes about some of my hallucinations and I know other people who do that as well.

I think I see where you're coming from with the idea, but I will say first that even the hallucinations that are extremely obviously fake (including to the person experiencing them at that time who is aware that it's not real) can still be very stressful and scary. To have myself as an example here, a few years ago I had a visual hallucination that was clearly out of place, essentially nonsense. I'm fairly good at recognizing when I'm hallucinating something and was able to tell "that's not there, it's literally fake". At that time I did actually make fun of it because Lol, saw Weird Thing, and it was kinda funny, but it doesn't mean I didn't also stare at it and had my heart rate go up a dangerous amount. Being scared in a situation with a clearly Strange Thing of that nature is an uncontrollable physical response I think (I'm presuming it's much less intense for people who hallucinate very frequently or at all times), kinda like getting a fake spider thrown at you - you know it's fake approximately 1 second after the fact and it can be funny, but your body is still going through some sort of response because for that 1 second it took you to figure that out you got scared.

This is a very long way to say that this is both a thing that your character could joke or be frustrated by ("Why do I still feel dizzy, it was literally just [XYZ]? What the fuck.") and that scary hallucination =/= hallucination you can't joke about. Some people will actually make fun of the more distressing ones because it can be a decent coping mechanism when you're scared. It can ease up the tension, especially if other people see you and don't know what to do (it's absolutely awkward).

My one advice on the type of jokes the character makes is to keep in mind how they relate to actual psychotic people. E.g., don't make a joke that has "you'd have to be stupid to not notice that something is a hallucination" as an objective conclusion because well, a lot of us can't tell. I suppose it could be different if the character is being self-deprecating and just insulting themselves, but if you're going that in-depth on the character I'd recommend working with a sensitivity reader.

Basically try to consider - is the character joking about themself and their hallucination, or are they just punching down psychotic people? Again, jokes on how "psychotic people be like" aren't sacred or fully off limits, but it's not really what I'd be looking for from an outsider author.

There's also I think room for showing hallucinations as strictly scary/dark (most, if not all of us have/had these), it's just to not have horror soundtrack playing during it. If (example) your character experienced the most movie-stereotypical "demons, blood, satanic activity" type hallucinations and was actually treated with sympathy, I wouldn't consider it to be demonization of psychosis. Sometimes it can be scary and ugly, but it doesn't make the person experiencing it an evil monster.

I hope this helps,

mod Sasza

[artytaeh]

everyone sees lorenze as a sweetheart but in the fic he was introduced in he was a dick, and on tiktok there's this whole thing where he would sleep with girls and then log the points he made by sleeping with them in a little black book, then compare scores with the other boys (i think it was 20-pureblood, 10 or 15- halfblood and 5-muggleborn), so how do you see him? (and can you write some hc's for him lile you did with mattheo please?)

anyways, love ur writing, and hope you have a great day!

A STUDY-CASE OF LORENZO BERKSHIRE; based on personal headcanons. 𓂃 ࣪ ✽ ˒

even though lorenzo doesn't have the same destroying coping mechanisms as mattheo or theodore, it's dangerous to assume that he's a sweetheart. if anything, it's a carefully built persona, a mask that he wears rather than claims as his own personality.

warnings: mentions of trauma, and mature contents advised to +18 readers; read at your own risk and responsibility.

MOST PEOPLE FORGET THAT LORENZO IS A SLYTHERIN— this man is cunning. to the point where people might raise an eyebrow at that.

from childhood, lorenzo learned some survival skills: to observe is to learn how to properly behave depending on the ambience, or the people that surround you. to observe is to learn how to act with certain people, nevermind if you agree with them or not. to observe is to know which mask to wear that would benefit you the most.

you see, lorenzo was more of a lucky child than his half-brother, mattheo riddle; the two were born from the same insane mother, who gave birth to lorenzo first as a riddance of her arranged marriage— lorenzo was freedom, was the one thing she had to do to leave that boring, unsatisfying life that her sister, narcissa black, submitted herself to.

after lorenzo, well, bellatrix lestrange was free to openly show her true colors, not having to poorly hide her affairs with dark magic and fascination for the dark lord— betraying mr. berkshire, lorenzo's father, who was unsure whether this was a good outcome (getting a heir and getting rid of such an unstable woman), or a terrible one for his reputation.

so really, mattheo would argue that growing up away from their mother was a blessing, that lorenzo should be thankful for.

lorenzo berkshire never felt that way.

in fact, lorenzo has a deep feeling of envy, in my perspective. never enough for his mother, who didn't even decide his name— his problems never worrisome or considered within his group, not when mattheo riddle exists, not since theodore's mother died. hell, even draco seemed to have a worse life than him.

to me, despite being more of a trio with theodore and mattheo since childhood, lorenzo has the most empathy and "light feelings" with blaise. since, well, they look like the most lighthearted and objectively happy of the group.

THE LACK OF HIS MOTHER'S PRESENCE had always cut deep within lorenzo: it brought a resentment fueled by envy, jealousy even, ever since his childhood.

looking at other children with their mothers, receiving loving hugs or even scoldings, was something that lorenzo deeply ached for. a maternal presence in his life, someone who cares— his father did the best he could, and honestly, not being related to the dark lord's affairs like draco, theodore and mattheo's family are, well, it was a blessing and offered a much lighter ambience at home.

still. lorenzo berkshire didn't know what to do with all that hatred bubbling inside of him. his family members, his teachers— everyone would praise lorenzo for his beautiful and delicate looks, how well-spoken he is; such a blessed child, right?

then why the fuck wasn't lorenzo worthy of a mother? what did mattheo have that lorenzo doesn't, what is so much more interesting about mattheo that lorenzo lacks— to the point of his mother not even knowing his name?

lorenzo finds it unfair. it's unfair, and behind that sweet smile of his, there's a brewing anger, resentment, jealousy that are dangerously close to explode. the day lorenzo explodes, well, hogwarts might blow to debris as well.

it didn't matter how much of a good father charles berkshire attempted to be; where do you think that lorenzo learned his womanizer ways into the world? seeing his father flirtatiously seduce maids, bring home women that felt awkward under his childlike gaze, how girlfriends rarely stayed for longer than a few months. enzo always wondered if love was meant to have a term. like food, if that make sense; in short time, it'll rot, if you don't consume.

so really, the lack of a maternal presence was what made lorenzo ache for a sense of validation. female validation, to be specific.

( yes, the type of friend who becomes your mother's favorite. lorenzo aches to be the slightest bit loved by them; he's specially close to narcissa, his aunt, since she shares the same blood as his mother. other than narcissa, lorenzo really likes and admires mrs. zabini too. )

draco malfoy is his childhood friend; they're cousins, berkshires and malfoys being two influential families that joined their heirs to be good friends since birth. theodore sparked interest in lorenzo since day one, even though he had been introverted back then. blaise came as a package deal with draco, hence why they have an amicable friendship. and mattheo, well, he... sparked different things in enzo that fueled that dangerous anger that he keeps hidden under wraps.

at first, this group seemed promising to one thing: popularity, and lorenzo ached to be a cool kid. gradually, enzo stopped perceiving them as a means to an end, and began to become truly attached to his friends. to the point where yes, lorenzo berkshire is the one to separate fights, or to keep an eye out to assure that professors won't interrupt his friends' fistfights.

even so, lorenzo feels lonely or an outcast sometimes. draco and blaise were birds of a feather ever since the first days of friendship; theodore and mattheo shared too many matching wounds. despite his proximity with both mattheo and theodore, lorenzo often felt like they were the duo in a trio. in the end, he had no one to claim as his person, nevermind how he's the one who ached for it the most.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE IS A HOPELESS ROMANTIC; dreaming with love at first sight, believing that he'd only settle down for this one goddess, this perfect woman he'd only have eyes for. genuinely, lorenzo believes that everyone has their assigned soulmate, that the one exists. and here between us, lorenzo is dying to meet the love of his life; he has high expectations of the world stopping the moment he sees her, of being tongue-tied on her presence. all of those romance book cliches.

so, in a way, all of these gentlemanly acts, this effort to get to know many people, specially girls... it's all for the sake of his goal: finding this girl that will stop his world.

and as romantic as it can be, such a thing makes lorenzo berkshire become... an asshole.

so he becomes anxious. each girl he dates, he'll anxiously expect or wonder if she's the one for him. this anxiety brings him to be a bit mean, and an inconsequent jerk, who'd find faults in all of the girls he dated for more than a week; by the end of the month, he'd have a whole brainstorming session on his notebook (that bloody, cruel notebook of his) weighting the qualities over their flaws.

and so he'll daydream— and test them. watching closely how they react to this and that, a strange analogy for situations of daily life; a taste of what would be like settling for such a woman. if it's worth it. if he likes it. if their reactions are charming to his eyes.

if he's dissatisfied, well; he'll dump them. lorenzo berkshire has a big heart, meant to love and show the outmost affection—

and even though he'll make a girl feel like a princess, like the most important, prettiest, most special girl at school... one day he'll treat you as the most special, ethereal person that ever existed in the earth— on the other one he won't even spare a glance at you.

LOVE BOMBING works that way. because as soon as lorenzo is bored or dissatisfied, he'll leave; the interest, the thrill of the chase, learning the way to their bodies and what makes them laugh, swoon, blush, give him a cute reaction — after all of that, well.

lorenzo berkshire will be bored.

and leave their lives as fast as he came.

and well, enter the little black book !

you see, for how much of an asshole that lorenzo truly is, is a bit hidden under the wraps; (mattheo doesn't have much of a problem showing it, since his father's reputation got people assuming terrible things about him since day one), but lorenzo berkshire is more discreet.

for those of you who don't know, the little black book is a hard covered notebook, with blank pages meant to be filled with... well, rudely given scores and opinions that should've never been verbalized. as anon mentioned on their ask: this is a game between him and mattheo; like quidditch, you score more and more points to your team.

with this one, each girl they sleep with, adds more points to their game. raised with the pureblood supremacy ideology implanted on their minds, the points were given like this:

⭑ 20 points, if the girl is a pureblood;

⭑ 10 points, if the girl is a halfblood;

⭑ 5 points, if the girl is a mudblood muggle born.

mattheo being lorenzo's partner on this whole little black book deal is a bit of a... tricky situation.

at first, it served as a competition; to prove to himself that he's better than his half-brother, after all. then, it became mean conversations that unintentionally brought the boys together as genuinely good friends who appreciate spending time together.

suddenly, lorenzo doesn't hate mattheo anymore, and starts perceiving him as who he really is, instead of that nemesis he created inside his head— the boy who stole his mother's attention.

SMARTER THAN WHAT PEOPLE GIVE HIM CREDIT FOR. it's part of his sweetheart persona, to make sure people underestimate him; sure, don't worry about lorenzo — look at him, do you really think he'd punch a guy?

(he would. lorenzo rarely gets himself into fights, for the sake of not getting bruises on his face and his reputation; but this guy is feral. get lorenzo berkshire angry enough, and mattheo and theodore have to join forces to separate lorenzo from his adversary.)

enzo won't punch or be aggressive to anyone in public. if anything, he might get them at a secluded corner of the castle and give them a very obvious warning.

but his preferred strategy is to innocently spread gossip about the people that harm his friends. you said that theo had cocaine? funny— it seems like you slept with a professor and got an abortion during christmas break. lorenzo isn't afraid to spread gruesome rumors like that. so be smart and don't start shit with his friends either.

lorenzo also has a hard time knowing himself. in a sense that, because lorenzo shapes himself to adjust to each social circle, he gets lost between the many masks he used throughout his life.

is he capable of being a sweet person, or is he just a really bad guy? lorenzo sees things as extreme. black or white. day or night. the sun or the moon. good or evil. right of wrong. that might be why he has a hard time believing in what people say about him; as in, if you praise lorenzo of being a good friend, he'll have his doubts about that— a good friend wouldn't do the things he's done, or felt jealousy towards them. a good friend wouldn't resent his friends for having problems seemingly bigger than his, right?

( rip lorenzo berkshire you would have loved personality quizzes. )

lorenzo also tends to have a certain distortion of his problems. the issue here is, the minor problems are seen as extreme, alas the truly worrisome ones, diminished. enzo knows when someone is abused — but does he allow himself to feel bad about the grown woman who was his first time at fourteen? no—no. he should like it. boys will be boys. and when everyone patted his back and treated him like a king afterwards, lorenzo felt bad about wanting to throw up.

QUALITIES THAT HE POSSESSES, rather than just spitting out my insight of lorenzo's struggles and some flaws of his, are:

⭑ knows how to treat a woman,

lorenzo is a friend to many girls, and having seeked both comfort and validation from the female audience, interacting so much with the opposite gender offered experience. not just to fuck or making out— lorenzo genuinely has some girl friends that he considers as people he sincerely likes; most of these friends, depending on their personality (cough how enzo judges whether they'd be able to survive his friends' bullshit cough), lorenzo will warn his slytherin friends to find another prey to pester.

besides, he's the one who mostly advises his friends. surely, theodore has good experience with women at his feet, and mattheo knows how to flirt with a girl— however, both suck at apologizing, or redeeming for their mistakes, even though they're not feeling the guilt they should feel.

lorenzo sympathizes with that, but bloody hell, morons— just go get her a bouquet of her favorite flowers and say some sappy bullshit! lorenzo isn't sure whether his friends are ignorant idiots, or if he's somehow included in girl code. lorenzo berkshire promises that it's not that hard to understand women, much less how to treat one right.

( emotionally speaking, well... sometimes lorenzo fails at that. horribly. still, his motto is to make girls cry on his tongue, not for his actions. break her bed, not her heart! )

⭑ the greatest at social gatherings,

hence why lorenzo will be the perfect boyfriend to your parent's eyes; a charming smile, polite and doesn't force any sympathy to be casted upon him. lorenzo's ability to perform in the pureblood society, at home, in hogwarts with different social circles, allowed him to master the art of adapting into the necessary mask. besides, he's a mother's favorite; should you and lorenzo berkshire ever break up, your mother will cry.

⭑ as i've stated before— acts of service,

lorenzo's most genuine display of care is by acts of service. gifts if he wants to impress, physical touch if he wants to seduce— so the things he does for his slytherin friends are the most sincere from him.

⭑ ‌looking out for any professors or filch, to make sure that no one interrupts his friend's brawls; if necessary, lorenzo is one to step up on the fight as well, if things feel unmatched for mattheo or theodore.

⭑ ‌taking care of their drunk selves, even to the point of tolerating them throwing up at each corner of their shared bathroom (a nightmare, i'll tell you.); lorenzo will drop whatever he's doing to make sure that his friends are hydrated, comfortable and sleeping soundly on their beds.

⭑ ‌brings annotations and whatnot to help them at a certain subject. lorenzo has connections and is an acquaintance to many, so really, getting these wasn't that hard.

⭑ ‌saves their preferred dessert or breakfast meal, since lorenzo is very pontual and likes to leave the slytherin's dorms early. or at least before the halls are too crowded for his liking.

⭑ knows their allergies. once saved blaise from suffocating— theodore unintentionally gave him a bit of a tart that had peach. blaise is allergic to them.

⭑ isn't a materialistic person,

at least not like his cousin, draco malfoy, is; money and wealth came easy to lorenzo's life, surely, however he doesn't perceive it as something that dictates a family's value. hence why lorenzo also doesn't look at price tags— knowing that the berkshire's vault at gringotts would be full for many generations to come, but also because money is a trade needed to survive amidst society. besides, lorenzo has money to spoil you! otherwise, why would he need this much?

not looking at price tags might make him a bit ignorant about stuff he buys. 'this? oh, i thought it was cool– does this brand cost five hundred galleons? oh, i wasn't aware.' — won't be able to explain where he got his clothes from, because they might be muggle, wizardry, low cost, or at the expense of a kidney.

besides, lorenzo values handmade gifts much more than bought ones. things you buy because you know a person's tastes are just as endearing— lorenzo melts at the notion that you see him. that you notice him and what he says. even so, give this man a love letter, and he'll unironically sob (and read it every. single. night. before sleeping). this means that lorenzo will also put effort into making something for you, rather than go to the first store and buy the first thing he sees.

⭑ dresses ridiculously well,

lorenzo berkshire doesn't have to pull anything off; the man knows how to dress. an angel will spend their vacation at hell, the same day you'll see lorenzo wearing a mismatched outfit. sounds impossible, right? yeah. it doesn't matter if he's running late either; lorenzo will even show that that adds to his charm: being fashionably late.

he's a bit stingy with clothes, though. doesn't like the thought of sharing them with anyone— however he might lend hoodies, jumpers and shirts to his partner. the biggest drama queen if someone taints or ruins his clothes. if his shirt isn't perfectly ironed, he won't use it. lorenzo berkshire always looks impecable.

⭑ fiercely loyal,

slytherin and hufflepuff walk hand in hand with this one trait: loyalty. in my opinion, you won't find another house who compares to their great sense of devoted trust. lorenzo, nevermind his own mental struggles and unspoken issues, would never betray his best friends in any way.

lorenzo is the type of friend to whom you have to prove that his friends are in the wrong— the proof must be a ridiculously good argument, because even so, lorenzo will side with his friends. enzo's concern over the moralty of their actions falters, into the need of helping his loved ones out of this mess first; besides, lorenzo has a secret (yet loud) urge to be useful, to be needed, from where validation and self-esteem comes from.

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— once again: this is my perception of lorenzo berkshire! 🗯️ i posted this with a tinsy bit of fear, since some people might interpret lorenzo as something totally opposite to this... but oh well. i hope you liked it! you won't believe for how long i've had this for ?! and i'm still so not satisfied with it. 🙂‍↔️

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[warblogs17282]

The more I think about it, the more that I think that Blitz is gonna hit a mental rock-bottom in ghostfuckers.

So, let's start off with the first clue: Millie being very consistently annoyed/angry in the scenes where we see her in ghostfuckers.

Why could this be? My theory is that it's because Millie is starting to suspect that there's something going on with Blitz, and she tries to figure out what this is exactly, but Blitz just keeps brushing her attempts to do so off, or just straight up won't tell her, leading to her slowly getting more and more frustrated at Blitz.

Another thing of note within the gif is that we see Millie shouting something, I can't read lips, but I'd wager that it's something along the lines of 'ENOUGH!', which could potentially play into what I mentioned in the last paragraph.

And it makes complete sense if Millie is the one to pick up on the fact that there's something going on with Blitz, considering she appears to be rather supportive/comforting to Blitz, with a major example of this being s2 e4, where Millie was the one to break the news to Blitz that Stolas got badly hurt. So it'd make sense to me if Millie is the one to see that Blitz is going through something, and wants to try and help him by making him feel better or something, but Blitz's tendency to push others away just ends up annoying and angering her.

Clue 2: 'Blitz is coping with what happened in apology tour in a not so healthy way.'

Assuming that this comment ends up being true, it tells us that Blitz is employing unhealthy coping mechanisms in order to cope with the events of Apology Tour, and we know that Apology Tour hit Blitz hard, just look at his face when he sees Stolas really enjoying himself with the BTB guy.

So, what method could Blitz be using to cope? A common theory during the mission shorts is that Blitz is purposely overworking himself/throwing himself into work because of the events of Apology Tour, and I personally agree with it, at the moment, it's the one that makes the most sense to me.

Another theory of what this could be was drugs/alcohol because of Blitz's past and previous relationship with them, but that theory doesn't really hold much water to me, mainly because we've only seen Blitz drink in social settings throughout the show, after the events of s1 e7 we see Blitz on the couch asleep after binge eating ice cream, and because Blitz said "oh thank Satan." when Barbie Wire said that she wasn't back on the drug named H-8.

Clue 3: Blitz's literal mental breakdown.

Blitz - "I destroy everything, I make everyone's lives worse!"

During the trailer, we see Blitz having what appears to be a literal mental breakdown, and I'd wager that this is the point where Blitz hits mental rock-bottom for two huge reasons.

1: Blitz's skull necklace that came from his mother that he normally always wears appears to be missing looking closely at this scene within the trailer.

2: A combo of all the other points I've listed in this post.

Truth be told I am not looking forward to seeing Blitz hit mental rock-bottom, but the only potential silver lining I can think of here is that it may make/force Blitz to actually be vulnerable in front of Millie and/or the others, which would allow them to actually be able to give Blitz some support, which it does look likely that Millie is trying to offer Blitz some support in that scene.

Plus, not to mention literally everything else that's gonna happen in ghostfuckers as well, like Blitz talking to his mother, and that hallucation with Millie, with "You always take from those around you, leaving them worse and more broken than you found them.", those are also 100% gonna fuck with Blitz's mental state a lot.

[crescentpaws]

unprompted anti keefe post because i remembered this quote just now and got unnecessarily mad about it again. almost every reason i have to hate keefe can be seen in this quote from legacy btw:

“Isn’t this the epic showdown you’ve been planning where you order Tammy Boy to kill me? Thanks for the warning about that, by the way,” he told Tam. “As you can see, it worked super well.”

“keefe can keep a secret if it’s actually important” no the fuck he can not. this quote just proves how little he actually cares for other people. tam risked SO MUCH to pass along that warning to sophie, and keefe just casually mentions it in front of gisela. i can’t tell if he’s just really stupid or if he genuinely doesn’t care about the very REAL and very LIKELY possibility that gisela would literally kill tam for that. keefe casually decides to possibly condemn someone to death just to have a moment where he can tell his mom “i already knew what you were planning all along btw! lol! haha!” god he’s a fucking idiot.

then he has the nerve to say “as you can see, it worked super well” as if keefe didn’t SPECIFICALLY CHOOSE to ignore the message????? acting as if it’s tam’s fault that they’re in this position???

i get he uses humor as a coping mechanism, but all his comebacks to his mom just seem so stupid considering he is fully aware of what she is able to do. even if he knows she won’t hurt him, she is fully willing to hurt his friends. which he never seems to care about (unless it’s sophie, because for some reason sophie is the only person that matters to him. but clearly not even she really matters or else he would stop betraying her trust over and over and over again.)

reminder that the only reason they’re here is because sophie knew if she didn’t take keefe to london he would go by himself btw. which is just so. UGH. it’s not her job to be his fucking babysitter. how is that a healthy relationship

and then keefe has the nerve to be mad after tam escapes with gisela. like, you know, the literal exact same fucking thing he did with alvar in lodestar. except in keefe’s situation, he wasn’t a prisoner. he wasn’t wearing special bonds made of light that restricted his power. tam actually had a reason to go back with gisela. which keefe never did with alvar. but it’s ok! he’s allowed to be mad because it’s his mom! he’s allowed to be mad at everyone if they focus on the bigger picture instead of what will stop making him feel sad right this second! it’s ok for him to be mad because his mom is evil! but it’s not ok for fitz to be mad about them letting alvar go! because that’s different for some reason! trust me guys!!!!!!!!!!!

and don’t even get me STARTED on the final battle scene in loamnore. keefe is just so. oh my god. he’s so fucking aggravating. literally the whole group’s plan relied on the fact that keefe WASNT going to be there. he literally PROMISED he wouldn’t show up and try to take things over (like he always does). i seriously have no idea how sophie ever trusts him again after that. that would be my final straw. all he’s done is prove that no matter how much he swears he’s telling the truth, he’s just a manipulative liar 👍 it shouldn’t be sophie’s job to be constantly monitoring keefe to make sure he doesn’t do stupid shit like this. she shouldn’t have to be using her energy 24/7 worrying about what stupid thing he’s going to do next. that is not a healthy relationship.

and what do you know, keefe arriving at the scene was exactly what the neverseen wanted! gisela got to do what she was planning from the beginning!! and keefe acts like it wasn’t ENTIRELY PREVENTABLE.

god he’s just so stupid i don’t understand how any of these characters are able to remain friends with him. but whatever. keep glorifying his shitty behavior i guess.

[daydream-the-demon]

I've been thinking... The Theraprism doesn't seem to have good therapy methods, at least not for Bill.

From what's shown, Bill Cipher refuses to change for any reason, and honestly? You can't exactly blame him. If he does change, he'll be reborn as a being with no power or ability to think properly, he'll lose all his memories of his past (which yes the trauma will be cured, but everything else? All the good times he had? And that he lived for so long? You can't just lose that). He might have the same character, but he'll be completely different.

The thought of him losing himself is a strong one. Him redeeming himself will end up in him completely losing himself. He could redeem himself but still want to be himself and not be reborn.

As someone who suffered through trauma myself, I'd rather have gone through it and keep all my thoughts, power, and memories rather than ever be something that has never gone through it. It's honestly a difficult choice to make to either be reborn with no memories of your past self and not have the same power you used to have, and keep being the same person you are but with severe trauma. To be honest, from this perspective I'd rather just never exist anymore than be reborn.

And from what was seen of the Theraprism? I think their therapy methods might be a bit flawed for Bill Cipher. I think group therapy is not the most suitable for Bill Cipher, along with other things they do. I think it's genuinely not helping him. I haven't read too much into it, but from what I've seen, their methods, specifically for helping Bill Cipher, are flawed.

I realized what actually is wrong just now-

Bill Cipher is a stubborn character, and basing this off of myself, the more you argue with him, the more he's going to think that he's right.

Euclydia, he didn't mean to destroy his dimension. But he ended up doing it. Weirdmageddon, he was a king of a dying dimension, he didn't want to do what he did and kill an entire dimension again, so he ended up starting Weirdmageddon as there was no other way. In his perspective, he was doing only what was right, he WANTED to be a good person of a sort, though eventually he ended up being one of the worst people out there.

Also, I noticed, having an overly-happy front or expression can be a coping mechanism. Ignoring obvious signs, and laughing them off, is also a coping mechanism. Acting "insane" because that's how people perceive you so you act the way others think you are? ALSO A COPING MECHANISM. A lot of what Bill does are coping mechanisms, how do I know? I HAVE THEM MYSELF.

I also propose something, Bill Cipher has a lot of autistic-coded elements to him!

I am an autistic person myself, for context, and it may be just projecting, but seriously.

A long time ago I used to be obsessed with Bill Cipher. I was clueless about the fact I may be autistic (which explained a lot of things when I figured it out). I related to this character a lot, why? My phrases were "We're both outcasted from society", "We're both considered weird", and "We're both insane". And knowing what I know now, displaying yourself to be even MORE weird and MORE "insane" than you are is a form of autistic masking. (I'm not saying Bill Cipher is autistic, but from what I see is that he is very coded so.)

In the Book of Bill, in the morals section, he said to "think of something considered 'evil', now think of 3 reasons why they're actually good, you'll be rationalizing like me in no time!" (Paraphrasing but basically this.) My thought is that he just genuinely does not see why some things are considered 'evil'. There are genuinely good sides to most atrocious things. Murder? Ah, population control, people are disgusting anyway, destroying someone who wronged you (if you want to murder someone who is your enemy). Obviously, I don't think murder is "good", but Bill Cipher thinks like this. He genuinely does not understand why something "evil" is "evil" which of course not understanding the reasons for "bad" and "good" and why they exist can make you seem like you have a fucked up morality (which I myself struggle with too).

He has not been able to grow up in a society, and the ability to understand why morals are necessary, which can really fuck you up in a way.

He was trying to be good, good for his own needs and wants, and that was his morality. He wanted to help his own dying dimension and be a good person for his own dimension he was king of. A good king does whatever he can for his people, and that's what Bill tried to do. He wasn't trying to be a bad person, hell, if he was, he would've just ditched his dimension and not try to help at all. So in this context, he was just trying to be A GOOD PERSON.

Yes, he manipulated Ford, yes he killed many people on purpose, yes he caused nightmares for no reason. That is wrong, but again, Bill doesn't see why morality is necessary. He manipulated Ford to help his OWN DYING DIMENSION. He killed people because HE SAW PEOPLE AS DISGUSTING. He caused nightmares because HE WANTED TO SCREW WITH PEOPLE WHO WRONGED HIM. Bill Cipher is NARCISSISTIC, but in his narcissism he is selfless. He wanted to save his OWN dying dimension, but he wanted to save the dimension in itself too. There are so many points of this it's honestly insane.

So many people misunderstood him and his intentions though, and so everything that happened was seen as him trying to be a bad person.

He needs different shiz. He needs a different type of therapy to get better. His character is not suited for him to be reincarnated as something else. He is never going to get better like this. Never? Try impossible. He isn't going to "'break' and finally try and become a better person for his own sake", he's going to "'break' and give up on everything".

[icarusredwings]

Rewatched Deadpool 1. Took notes.

WARNING: Discussion of mental illness topics, ending yourself, trauma, violence, etc.

Civil debate/ conversation welcomed. Sorry its super long. I think a lot.

Notes:

You know what? We see Wade coloring a lot. What's our status on just giving him cartoons snacks and coloring books? He needs it.

I think we all forget how actually impressive this man is. I just watched this cancer having fucker do like 50 flips.

Whatta man is so Logan Howlett coded.

"Bad deadpool" "good deadpool!"

Deadpool has been helping kids for a while. He terrified a little creep while he himself was a huge creep.

Missed up his words and Vanessa smiled at him. With that "aw hes cute" kinda thing.

When talking about their childhood (whether he's lying or not, hes not about the uncle) and he outdos her so much that she giggles.

The first date he takes her ducking skiiballing instead of yk prostitute stuff

Hes so romantic oh my god.

Theyre giggling and joking like all the time. Personally thanksgiving is my favorite scene before he proposes with a fucking ring pop.

I shouldn't laugh but the way he said "wtf" when passing out

Vanessa instantly jumping to "what can we do? There has to be something" makes me instantly respect her as a chronically ill person myself. Partners who medically defend each other make me so happy because a lot of people divorce their partners when they get "too sick" let alone dont show up to specialist appointments.

Him accepting death so quickly is a sign of mental illness, and you can see him be confused on why shes so upset. Shes crying and hes sitting here like "why do you care if I die or not?" He physically feels so unloved that he just doesn't get it.

"I dont know. Might further the plot. " Oh, so you know about wades little mental tv show he puts on in his head as a coping mechanism?

Also... Weasel.. YOU KNOW WHO ELSE IS A WEASEL!? Shit sorry wrong movie.

Its not until now that hes crying because he realizes if he does then no more vanessa. We already know hes very co dependent and many people only care about themselves BECAUSE of other people. Which is also considered a sign of wanting to ☠️ self.

The whole "superheros are all lame ass teachers pets" thing is so funny if you think about how much beef he has with the xmen when in reality I have a feeling Wade would love charles in a "Ugh im in trouble with Daddy wheel chair again." COUGH "old bald heavens gate looking mother fucker" COUGH

"Thats not nice" No. But wade is genuienly not nice either.

"This is embarrassing. Please stop, " Colosus said what we all were thinking.

Bro literally cut/broke off his own hand and didn't whine a single time. If you ever. EVER hear this man express pain it is 99.9% his own choice to let you know that it hurts.

During his changing process, Francis says "the only thing that doesn't survive is a sense of humor" wade says "we'll see about that" and smirks.

What also makes sense to me is that he did NOT break easily. They did test after test after test and this man still wasn't breaking. His spirit is incredibly strong and as much as we enjoy joking about how stupid he is, Wade is extremely resourceful.

Its like he has created an alter ego of humor and kindess in order to keep up with the fact he DOES understand how fucked up this world is and whats happening/happened around him but refuses to acknowledge it until he has too. Ussually for survival.

Ive seen theories that he has DID or a type of Scizophreania and the voices in the comics are obviously in his head. I have mixed feelings about it because even his thoughts have thoughts of their own in some cases. Talking to no one is often a sign of abadonment, esspecially in children who are school age and get lonely when taken from their families to attend school. Its almost as if wade never lost his and hes subconsiously talking to himself to keep himself calm/ from panicking in high stress situations.

"But then how does he know hes in a movie" thats the thing. He doesn't. Hes pretending to cope. Main charaters cant die and until he dies he has this mental show/movie going on to keep himself from realizing all of this is true. That this is reality.

Cunningham mentions breakfast for his kids and suddenly, wade wakes up. Hes not joking anymore. This is a "oh shit... I wanna make breaktsst for my kids too... with my wife vanessa" moment.

"So whats wrong with him?"

Diiiiiddd we all forget about scout master kevin? Uncle? Dad? That fact that the oxygen was physically taken from his brain and was given Co2 poisoning over and over? For multiple days? This is the same man who blew himself up just to escape because they told him he wasnt going to see vanessa again.

And then he fought a guy naked, survived the entire building burning down, and now is so insecure about his looks that he thinks he made the baby cry in the street.

Theres people staring at him, flinching away, called names, people see him and cross the street. (So when he tells Logan that he knows his pain when it comes to public settings, hes not lying)

Blind Al is literally the reason deadpools suit is what it is. Why the idiot thought white was gonna be a good idea- See above. Unlike Al, who could smell the blood/ bleach.

I really love al. She's like the adult Toph.

"I hear everything in this duplex." OH, you poor thing.

"The guy that turned me into this freak-"

Al: *bitch im blind face*

As far as she's aware, he looks normal. Which is beautiful when you think about it, but it's funny when you think about the fact that he's so insecure about his face that he purposly found a blind room mate that couldn't judge him.

And they cuddle while he gets dating advice from grammie 🥹❤️

I really like how the entirety of Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Children (HellHouse in the comics) stood up for Weasel. They're murderers. But they're family.

What they did to vanessa was straight fucked. Her fiance up and leaves without notice, youre just trying to work and live your life, you get kidnapped.

Negasonic is so cool. I love them.

Dopinder (The cab guy) is so cool too. I love him too. Kill that guy in your trunk. "Mr. Pool" reminds me of Tom holland spiderman.

"It is not boy band >:(" Suurreee it isn't.

"Wheres your duffle bag?" You mean his dollar general store tree hello kitty book bag filled with guns?

"Cue the music" *no one even gives a fuck at this point when he talks to the imaginary cams*

Negasonic mid battle: Hold on- "Hey Yukio, yeah I just gotta fuck shit up real quick, ttyl?"

"Sure thing! <3 You go baby!"

I dont know anything about negasonic but she reminds me of Gambit with her energy powers.

Like I said. Hes smart when its a serious situation because he immediately threw his katana into the glass so vanessa could breathe, only to immediately turn sappy and childish again when he sees her stab francis with it. Heart hands, is hallucinating because theres a knife in his brain (literally), sex joke. Etc.

Colossus shut the fuck up. Let this man kill him. He's hurt Soooooo many people. A bullet costs less then a dollar. His amount of therapy alone is going to be like *checks calculations* 80 billion.

"Not the nethers" Wade can and often does show proof of hurting but hed rather cut off his hand then let vanessa punch him in the balls. "Ow- owie 5000"

Hello Hugh Jackman.

After not seeing each other for so longer they instantly go back to the fibbing. "I live in the house with 12"

"You live in a house??" Funny guys get the girls. I should know. My wife says im super funny (yes im in therapy)

Pinky promises really matter to him.

Hes such a silly billy he brought out the phone with their song on it. God what a romantic idiot.