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peacephotography · 7 months

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Four Lessons for the Long Haul - What Long Covid has taught me on resilience

When the paramedics came for me in the sweltering days of May 2020 it didn’t feel real. I had just passed out in the heat and collapsed headfirst into a radiator. I’d seen paramedics attend to friends and relatives, but in my feverish state, it didn’t sink in that they would come for me. My youthful sense of invincibility quickly faded. I found myself unable to lift my limbs or produce full sentences, and interminable headaches left me in despair. The after-effects are still with me today, in the form of Long Covid.

Now that I have regained some energy, I would like to share some of the lessons that illness has taught me about enduring difficulty in the climate and ecological crisis.

Lesson One: We need courage, not hope

Let the pain be your fuel. Let your total rejection of the status quo give you the courage to transform your life, to stand out from the crowd, and demand transformative action.

Margaret Klein Salamon, Facing the Climate Emergency

For the first few months of my illness, I woke up every morning hoping that I would suddenly recover and have “my life back”. Rather than letting go of what I could no longer do, I kept trying to live as before. But this detachment from the reality of my situation only brought me more pain.

Once I had the courage to face the uncertainty of illness, I let go of anxiously awaiting a miraculous recovery, and relaxed into my situation. In facing my pain and isolation I was able to accept them. They are a state of exile and vulnerability that can be a source of strength for navigating our bittersweet world.

The same is true for facing the climate emergency. If we hope that technology will save us or that criminally negligent governments will suddenly act responsibly, we are recklessly gambling our future on very poor odds. This can only bring pain. Once we start to tell ourselves the truth about the situation, we can find pride in our honesty and compassion in our grief. It’s from here that the resolve to take action will emerge.

Lesson Two: Follow your bliss

Joseph Campbell’s saying, “Follow your bliss,” is not an irresponsible phrase that ignores the pain of life but a reminder to receive pleasure and contentment, even in the depths of suffering.

Toko-pa Turner, Belonging

In illness, every day feels like a struggle. When it shows no sign of improving, or worsens, I lose my morale to keep going. It's an exhausting and depressing limbo. In the darkest and weakest hours, I saw my life flash before my eyes and began to dream of people and places I hadn’t seen for a decade. I saw the highs and lows that had shaped me into the man I am today. This gave me some space and perspective to see things from a different angle. From each challenge, there was a learning on how to face hardship. From each joy, an inspiration to live to the full.

Holding on to these feelings helps bring balance to life. In activism, we follow a true passion and through it find our fullest potential. But even this has its limits. Every step along the way we need to find that balance of difficulty and joy for our own wellbeing. Our struggle for climate and ecological action brings many challenges that can lead us to despairing inertia. In my sickness, a joy was as simple as the view from my bedroom window: a falling blossom, a scudding cloud, a wandering snail.

Such joys became my music, my dance, my poetry, my comedy and my sport: ways to relax into whatever challenge chronic pain brought.

Everyday joys can give us the resilience to keep facing what we must face. So as we rebel with all our might against the existential threat posed by the climate and ecological emergency, let’s also cherish what makes our existence so precious. From that reflective space we can find the courage to keep going.

Lesson Three: Words Matter

“The merest schoolgirl, when she falls in love, has Shakespeare or Keats to speak her mind for her; but let a sufferer try to describe a pain in his head to a doctor and language at once runs dry.”

Virginia Woolfe, On Being Ill

As I slowly regained my speech, I struggled to find the words to describe what I was going through. It struck me that there is a serious lack of language on both chronic illness and climate chaos. If you are unable to express a feeling, you are unlikely to find any solace for it.

For our society to be able to come to terms with the emergency we need a language to relate to in films, literature and TV. Some of the best I think we have so far are Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler, a piercing portrayal of the rise of sexism and racism in an uninhabitable America; The Road by Cormac McCarthy, for its portrayal of the gritty end-point of mass extinction; and early Studio Ghibli films such as Princess Monoke/Nausicaa, whose heroines champion coexistence with the natural world.

However, the vast majority of current work focuses too much on apocalypse scenarios, produced to scare the shit out of us, instead of relatable everyday stories. How about a climate drama set in water scarce Somalia? Or a northern woman’s heroic adventure to save her hometown from flooding? We need more romances that argue over whether having kids is responsible and comedies that mock the insanity of our toxic system like The Yes Men or Simon Amstell’s Carnage.

Stories are key for an emotional connection to the challenges humanity faces. Our stories of rebellion can be cathartic for climate anxiety and stir a generation of heroes ready to speak out for their futures. Let’s start writing them.

Lesson Four: Belonging

“By reviving a community, built around the places in which we live, and by anchoring ourselves, our politics and parts of our economy in the life of this community, we can recover the best aspects of humanity. We can mobilise our remarkable nature for our own good and the good of our neighbours.”

George Monbiot, Out of the Wreckage

Being housebound and unable to hold conversations without paralysing headaches is extremely isolating. Yet even in the depths of my pain I was able to appreciate the love of our community. Rebels gave me cards, voice-notes, medical advice, paintings and - best of all – cakes, cookies and biscuits fresh from the oven. The feeling of belonging to and being supported by a community of kindhearted and extraordinary people gave me strength every step of the way.

Together we are building a community that can hold us through the dark days with pride, friendship and joy. We are showing not only the best aspects of humanity but also the solid foundations of a successful social movement. The climate and ecological emergency will shape the rest of our lives. So take every opportunity you can to nourish and prepare yourself for the long journey ahead. You’ll not only be more resilient, but you’ll find more joy.

-- Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed this or can think of someone who could benefit from these words please do share it. If you'd like to read more, subscribe to my blog :) Peace, Robin

Photograph: Franck Fife

#spilled ink #writing #long covid #disability #covid #climate crisis #robin boardman

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iamanartichoke · 3 years

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I started typing this in the tags of this post, and it got too long, and then I was going to just reblog the post with this as an addition but that got too long too, and I've been meaning to make a post addressing free will vs. predestination since the premiere anyway, so - here we go. Spoilers, obviously.

Cut for length and spoilers. Please blacklist #loki tv series spoilers, #loki series spoilers, and #loki spoilers.

This is kinda rough and I'm not sure it actually makes any sense but I'm posting it anyway.

I realize that the post is a joke, obviously (and it is hilarious) but I started thinking about the implications and couldn't stop because it's honestly a goldmine of existential reflection and an inevitable crisis or three.

Let's look at a scenario.

Say you're late to work for reasons totally beyond your control: your neighbor stopped you to ask a question on your way out the door; you swung through the drive-thru for a quick coffee but the person in front of you is ordering a full continental breakfast ffs (this happened to me this morning); there was an explosion and then the Winter Soldier randomly dropped from the sky and landed on the hood of your car. Whatever. Shit happens.

So you're late, but on this particular day, your lateness somehow has consequences that lead to and create a nexus event and the next thing you know, you're being arrested, tried, convicted of time crimes and ultimately (a version of you is) erased from existence.

And this is if it's not even your fault you're late.

Now say that you're late and it is your fault. You took a new route on a whim and drove a little more slowly because you passed a particularly pretty meadow; you hit the brakes at a yellow light instead of speeding through bc you wanted the quick chance to check your email; you sat in your car for a few extra minutes in the parking lot, because maybe your job sucks and you really needed those extra minutes today to psyche yourself up into getting out of the car and going inside and clocking in.

These little choices are you exercising your free will. Because to me, free will is all or nothing - it doesn't just apply to the big decisions.

On the other hand, predestination means that regardless of the choices you make or if it's a big decision or not, everything you do is ultimately going to lead you to a set point or position or place (your destiny).

And I can kind of look at it like a GPS - that is, there are a number of "insignificant" choices you could make and they will still lead you to where you're predestined to go. Like how a GPS will reconfigure your route if you miss your exit on the highway. It doesn't matter if you took Route A or Route B, you're still going to end up at your destination.

But say sometimes the route does matter. Say that there are certain scenarios in which there's only one road (for example, 14 million losses vs 1 win) and you can only get on it by following a specific series of events and what determines the ultimate outcome is whether or not you're late to work that day.

If you decide to wait those extra five minutes in the parking lot, that means that you weren't in your cubicle at 9:03 when Stanley from Accounting wandered by with his giant stack of papers, and when Mary Sue said hello to him, he got distracted and tried to wave and ended up dropping those papers. Had you been at your cubicle, you'd have swooped down to help him but since you weren't there, Stanley is crouched on the floor alone and doesn't notice Joe coming at him with a paper trolley so when he stands up, he and Joe collide and Stanley loses his balance and goes face-first toward the trolley and breaks his nose when he hits the metal handle on his way down.

Now Stanley has to go to the hospital to get his nose set because you wanted to sit in your car and spend five extra minutes hating your life that morning.

If the sacred timeline says that Stanley is supposed to be in that ER at that specific time on that specific day, and no other set of circumstances would get him there, because this will ultimately take Stanley down the road to whatever greater journey he's supposed to go on, then it has to happen. But say you exercise your free will and decide not to wait those five minutes, because the free will applies to every choice you make, even the tiny, insignificant ones. You chose to put on your big person pants and took a deep breath and just head inside - and because you chose to do that and because you were at your cubicle to help Stanley with his papers, Stanley never ends up in the ER and the timeline that's supposed to happen is suddenly at risk and the TVA has to get involved (I assume).

So having free will introduces way, way too many variables into a fixed timeline to ever keep track, because you're taking these tiny, seemingly insignificant choices that people are making every minute of every day, and you're multiplying them by trillions of sentient beings in the universe, and you're saying the fate of the timeline and reality itself depends on all of these beings either always making the choice they're supposed to make or constantly sending the TVA out whenever they don't.

It's fair to conclude, then, that both free will and a fixed, single timeline can't exist at the same time. Either you adhere to the fixed timeline and everyone does exactly what they're supposed to do every second of every minute of existence, or you have free will and autonomy over all of your decisions, no matter how big or small, and those decisions can result in a number of outcomes, ultimately leading you to one of several possible destinations.

Case in point: Tony didn't have to snap his fingers in Endgame. He chose to. Had he not, Thanos would have won. It doesn't matter if there was one way to victory or 14 million ways to failure; the timeline could ultimately only go one of two ways and the choice Tony willingly made determined that Thanos lost. It wasn't predetermined because if Tony had not chosen to snap his fingers, the timeline would have gone the other way.

My personal belief - and this isn't necessarily for the MCU, but in general - is that we do possess free will and the future is ever shifting and changing because nothing is written in stone. It holds up against most, if not all, of the world's belief systems. For example, if you believe that people have guardian angels, the rule is generally that your guardian angels can help you but you have to ask them; they can't decide to intervene without your permission because to do so would infringe upon your free will.

Similarly, you can go on etsy and pay $5 for a funsies psychic reading or pay a lot more money for an in-depth, specific tarot reading and both will tell you that the outcomes may change depending on the paths you take, and that their ultimate advice is for you to keep your focus on your goals and your own self so that you can be subconsciously manifesting the best possible future for yourself. (Not that I know this from experience. It was one time. It was a few times. My point stands, and also stop judging me.)

To get back to the MCU, though - if you determine that both a single, fixed timeline and free will can't simultaneously exist, and your ultimate purpose is upholding said timeline and not letting anyone fuck it up, lest it break off into lots of different branches, then it poses a pretty serious moral and/or ethical question of - who decides what choices we make and what paths we're destined for? The time lizards? Who gave them that authority? Did anyone, or did they just manifest themselves into existence one day, create the universe, and then decide all of the rules (and, if so, where does that leave the norns and the gods and other super powerful beings who are generally thought to be in charge of things)?

If free will doesn't exist and everyone is acting based on what has been predetermined for them by some higher being (or, in this case, time lizards), it takes away our autonomy, and if everything we do and every single tiny step we take is decided for us, what makes us any different than cogs in a machine just following orders? What separates us from robots?

Speaking of robots, it's interesting to me that the TVA's screening process (if you can call it that) has a failsafe against robots specifically. Any robot that might come through is destroyed immediately and in this case, “not a robot” is defined, more or less, as a sentient being that possesses a soul. What does the TVA have against robots if their ultimate goal is ensuring that the robotic machinations of the time lizards are consistently carried out to protect the sacred timeline?

A soul makes you human; the energy of the soul is what you, at the core, are. It can be assumed that having a soul also means that you have some sort of moral and ethical code by which you live your life but, if you don't also have free will, then what is the point of possessing a soul and a moral and ethical code?

Loki is a villain and he's told by Mobius, the TVA, Odin, and pretty much everyone who ever meets him that the only thing he's good for - the only reason he exists - is to cause pain and suffering and death. This has been predetermined for him; this is not his fault and he did not choose it. And every single choice he makes has either already been destined as the choice he was supposed to make, or will be pruned so it won't grow into the wrong timeline. Ultimately Loki can change neither his final destination, nor the purpose and meaning of his existence.

Which leads me to the theory that the several Loki variants that the TVA keeps coming across are the result of Loki consistently resisting against his predetermined path; he's trying to find the timeline where he is able to latch onto and keep his own free will in defiance of the timekeepers but, so far, he hasn't been successful. This could segue into why the current Variant is now going scorched earth and just obliterating the main timeline completely - because if there is no sacred timeline, there's nothing dictating who or what Loki can be, and free will is regained. If there's a multiverse that branches and branches beyond anyone's control, then there must be a branch in there, somewhere, where Loki can exist on his own terms and decide how his own story goes.

This also might be a theory for why Loki is already setting his sights on taking over the TVA (assuming that's not just something he told the variant for reasons). But my original point in delving into all this is to ask: if Loki is predestined to always be a villain whose story plays out exactly the same way because that's what's supposed to happen, then how can anyone ever hold his misdeeds against him? He's literally just existing as the timekeepers decided he would exist and everyone is blaming him for it.

And this leads me to ask, as well, if one's soul is generally good, and one possesses more good traits than bad, what is the logic in making them exist only for pain and destruction? If it's for a greater good, then it stands to reason Loki is not the only one predestined for misery, and what greater good could come from all that suffering?

Conclusion: the existence of the TVA as an organization means that there is one fixed, sacred timeline but the existence of said timeline is immoral and unethical because it means no one actually has any free will at all in the MCU. The very notion of heroes and villains is pointless because it has nothing to do with your own qualities or morality, it's literally the luck of the draw. In order to have free will, the sacred timeline has to be destroyed, and so my prediction is that the Big Bad of the Loki series is not the TVA and not the time keepers but the actual timeline itself, and the entire fate of the MCU rests on whether or not Loki can ultimately succeed.

Also, don't be late for work.

#well this was a journey #smfh #i hope it at least makes *some* sense #loki series meta #loki tv series spoilers #loki series spoilers #loki spoilers #long post #i should have revised this before posting lmao #i went back and edited some of it but meh #it's pretty nonsensical i think but also i confuse myself really easily so

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rawlinacademia · 3 years

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ASL 30/09/2021

So, I gave my ASL yesterday... Which is kind of like a speaking assessment which I think is about a total of 10 marks of grade and I did a pretty basic one because..after all, it is a speaking assessment test, not a 'who's got the most sophisticated pretentious looking crap speech'. Also, I was time-bound like 2 minutes or so ..so here it is...My friends helped me edit a lot of stuff ..so ...yeah...

MY FAVORITE BOOK/AUTHOR

Good Morning to one and all present here. Today I, Asena Rawlin, of class 12th will give my assessment of speaking skills on the topic - “My Favorite Book/Author ”

Humans have always been obsessed with escapism, and my favourite form of leaving this reality is to divulge in a great book. Just a few words and paragraphs on a page of parchment can take you to a different dimension, on an entirely new adventure.

It could take you through the author's mind and make you forget that you are living such a mundane life. What you're left with then, is another life, fully lived. It is as much your own as it is the creator’s. How then must one choose a favourite amongst these?

Be it J.K Rowling's high fantasy, Enid Blyton's enthralling adventures, Dan Brown's thriller, Leigh Bardugo’s mesmerizing Grishaverse or the genius and aesthetics of the classics...One thing that has always remained constant, is that Every time I read a book or a novel, be it of any genre, I get attached to every part of that book. The storyline, the characters, the writing style, the dialogues, the world, the morally grey characters, the villain! everything. The trauma, the tears, the emotions and the existential crisis that follows after turning the last page of the book, EVERY SINGLE THING!

Then tell me, How am I supposed to pick favourite. It would be like choosing one family over another. I cannot be the only one who feels that Choosing ‘the one’ is like betraying the others.

Perhaps somewhere in the future, I may declare a book as my favourite, I don’t know which book that may be, maybe the one I read next in my bucket list or maybe the one whose name I don’t even know yet but as of now, I am in love with each of them. I have grown up with those characters, learned something from each one of them. I have lived their life, shared their sorrows and happiness And Like William Feather quotes, ‘Finishing a good book is like losing a good friend’ and I have made so many books, my friend and I am very much looking forward to my future friendships.

Thank You

I think my teacher ...who I hate right now..because she replaced the best English teacher in the world and I respect her and her story methods but I do not like her at ALL but....where was i ...uh yes...I think she really liked it ... I think only a few students chose his topic and mine was the one that was not the typical one..and I presented it pretty nicely so ...let's see how many marks I get

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julemmaes · 4 years

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Possible continuation of the cass-defending-nesta au prompts?: “i got your back. Always.” Or perhaps, “they can shove it, i love you. All of you.” or maybe something involving soda slushies (that’s just cause I kinda want one rn)

Got your back (2)

Cassian and Nesta Archeron modern au

A/N: Please, read the A/N at the end of the post, this is really important for me. I didn’t put it here cause it’s very long, but still, I think everyone should read it.

So, the oh-so-awaited part two for the Nessian fic. This is mainly Cassian having an existential crisis (me every day basically) and some Nessian domestic fluff. I guess you’ll get a third part, cause I can’t leave you and them like this, I hope you’re thrilled by the idea just as much as I am. I’m sorry if I forgot to tag anyone. I hope yall enjoy!

part one

Word count: 2,590

The second Cassian got into the car the world fluttered.

He closed his eyes, inserting the key into the patch and then stopped.

A lump formed in his throat and when he tried to breathe, he realized he was struggling to do so.

What had he done? He opened his eyes and his vision blurred again.

His hands were shaking and his breathing was now erratic.

"Fuck!" he cried, as a tear slipped down his cheek.

He started the engine and set off as he tried to hold back the tears he knew were building up.

He took the highway after a few minutes and as soon as he was on a side road, without too much traffic, he pressed his foot on the accelerator trying to feel so much adrenaline that he went numb.

He was not going towards Nesta's house. No. To get to her apartment he would have had to take the third exit right after passing the walls of Velaris. But he knew that the second he saw her he would burst into tears if he couldn't let go of some of the anger in his mind.

Anger that was now mingling with guilt.

Shit, shit, shit.

He screamed, cursing once again, banging his fist against the steering wheel. The car skidded suddenly and Cassian hit the brake in a desperate attempt not to finish beyond the guard rail and in the middle of the fields. The screeching sound of the wheels wearing out on the asphalt remained in his head even after he had stopped. Both hands tightened around the steering wheel and his gaze fixed on the dark road in front of him, lit only by the headlights of his car, while his breathing became more and more uneven.

A sob broke the silence.

And then another, and yet another, until Cassian found himself desperately crying and hitting the steering wheel repeatedly.

His face buried in his hands and his body shaken by the sobbing, Cassian thought about what he had just done. What it meant to have told everyone about Nesta's problem.

He opened the door, getting out of the cockpit to get some fresh air, but as soon as he was out of the car, the crying got worse.

"You fucking idiot," he muttered to himself.

God, what have I done?

These last few days had been difficult for him. Stressful.

Nesta was in one of those periods they called "shitty periods". These were days, sometimes in rare cases weeks, when Nesta could not get out of bed. Moments in which every reason for living seemed pointless, in which even the slightest input from outside could destabilize her so much that she had several panic attacks in a single day.

Cassian had tried to stay close to her all the time, keeping the phone close to him in case she called him. He had stocked her fridge with food and went to her house for most of her lunches and dinners to cook her something and make sure she ate.

These weren’t completely bad days. There were times when Nesta smiled, or when she could see the good in the middle of all the shit, but there were still days when Cassian came home exhausted, looking for solutions to problems he couldn't solve, without being able to talk to anyone.

He had thought many times about what would happen if one day he took his brothers aside and explained everything to them. If he explained to them why Nesta was not well, by bringing the psychological explanation into the conversation, maybe they would start to treat her like a human being and not like a monster. But in that case he would have betrayed Nesta's trust.

If she had not yet had that conversation with her family, how could he do that with his own? Who was he to take that freedom away from his girlfriend? There were reasons why Nesta hadn't yet taken that step, reasons that Cassian knew perfectly well.

After all, he had experienced the same things a few years before.

That was people's main problem.

When they asked you what the reason for your actions was and you gave a logical explanation, maybe even saying that you were getting professional help, there were two possible answers: either they told you that you were doing it for attention or they told you things like "then don't be sad", "then stop worrying”, "then stop getting angry about everything". As if it were that simple. As if the traumas and situations you've lived through for years and years of your life and the consequences that come with those can be easily healed by not doing specific things.

And now Cassian had to show up at Nesta's house, pissed off with his family and feeling terribly guilty for telling her sisters what the real problem was.

He slammed his fist on the roof of the car repeatedly, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

He rubbed his hand over his face, wiping away the tears that were now flowing undisturbed.

He couldn't even talk to her about why he had exploded.

If he explained to her that he had confessed everything because he had been exhausted because of the last week he'd spent taking care of her, Nesta would have pushed him away. Not because she would have been offended that Cassian was struggling between college, work and her, no, that wouldn't have been the case. More likely she would have thought she was weighing too much on him and would have stopped talking to him when she needed him most.

Cassian couldn't allow such a thing to happen. Nesta had only him.

He could bear it, for her.

"You fucking fuck. Don't bear it," he shook his head, starting to walk back and forth, "you don't have to bear anything. You are doing all this for her, you have to respect her needs and the path will not be easy, but the day will come when she will get better and happy and it will be easier." he often spoke out loud when he was thinking about the matter.

No, he couldn't have told her that this was slowly killing him. He had to stay strong and do it for her. He would apologize to his family and allow them to talk to Nesta - always keeping civil tones - if she wanted to.

Shit.

Maybe he had made things even worse.

Maybe now they would have thought that Nesta was morally blackmailing him and that he was only doing it out of pity. And maybe they would have started to offend her even more, saying horrible things about her.

"Jesus Christ," cried Cassian to heaven. I will talk to everyone, he thought. He breathed.

He would talk to Nesta first and tomorrow morning, when everyone would be sober, he would also talk to the others.

For now, he just had to stop crying and get to her apartment safe and sound.

He looked at the time on the phone and sent a quick message to his girlfriend, warning her that he would be there in twenty minutes. Without waiting for an answer, he got back behind the wheel and made turned to get back on the highway.

True to his words, twenty minutes later he found himself at the door of her apartment. He had the keys and could have entered easily by himself, but he decided to knock. After all, she hadn't read the message; if she heard someone come in at 11:54 p.m., she could have easily attacked him.

When Nesta opened the door she had one eye closed and the other only slightly open. She scratched her cheek yawning, "Cass, what are you doing here?" she asked in a hoarse voice. Cassian blinked a couple of times and Nesta must have noticed his gaze because she stiffened, "Are you alright? Did something happen?" she put her hands forward and Cassian threw himself into her arms, holding her to his chest.

He sobbed and Nesta took a few steps back, carrying him with her as she closed the door behind him. She rubbed her hand on his back, stroking his arms, trying to calm him down.

"I am so sorry," he murmured in her hair. Nesta held him tighter.

"What happened Cass? Is everyone okay?" he nodded and felt her relax in his arms.

Something in Cassian's chest broke. Obviously she had immediately thought of the others. She was always thinking of their families. He broke off the hug and looked her in the eyes. Eyes that were now full of worry.

God, he was so stupid. Nesta already had enough problems of her own, now she would have to fight with the rest of their friends because of him.

"I screwed up," he whispered to her, holding her hand. Nesta put her hand on one of his cheeks, rubbing a thumb under his eye to remove the tears and nodded.

"What do you say you come into the kitchen and we'll talk about it while you drink some water, hmm?" she asked, pulling him towards the hallway. Cassian narrowed his eyes, thinking what would be best to do now.

He didn't want to tell her that her family insulted her almost every day. He didn't want to be the person to remind her of such an evil thing. Nesta wasn't stupid, she knew that one of the main topics of their evenings was her, but that didn't mean that Cassian wanted to open the subject right now.

She handed him a glass full of water and when he drank it in a single long sip, Nesta looked at him concerned, filled it again and handed it to him. Cassian just took it, looking at the liquid.

"You're making me nervous," Nesta whispered, leaning one hip to the kitchen island and crossing her arms to her chest, "it's past midnight and you showed up here crying, Cassian. If you don't want to talk about it now, that's fine -" the man almost laughed, a few months ago she would have forced him to talk until he exploded and they would have argued until the next morning. "we can do it tomorrow, but you are obviously shocked by something and if I can do anything to make you feel better, I want to do it." she tilted her head to the side, offering him a weak smile.

Cassian sighed, placing the glass on the counter and rubbing his face, "I fucked up."

"I figured that," she jokingly said. Cassian glanced at her and she whispered an apology smiling.

She was immediately serious when he said, "I told your sisters you're ill."

Her arms fell to her sides, and her eyes widened slightly.

Cassian leaned forward, leaning with his elbows on the counter and taking his head in his hands. Before she could answer, he had already resumed. "I've been tired lately and stressed about studying," yes, this white lie could go unnoticed, "and by the time I got home they were all drunk and started talking shit about you out of nowhere and I couldn't help it." He took a deep breath without crossing her gaze.

"I said that we are together - or rather, Amren told everyone that we are dating and I didn't deny anything. And then Feyre started blaming all the faults of your bad relationship on you and I couldn't stop talking".

"Did you specify anything?"

He still couldn't look at her, "No, I just said they should behave better and... Nesta, forgive me, Mor and Rhys were there too and I had to say something to them too and-" he froze when he felt a hand of hers resting between his shoulders.

He looked up at his girlfriend and she was looking at him with a loose expression on her face. He wrinkled his forehead. Nesta chuckled silently and ran her thumb between his eyebrows.

"Calm down, Cass." she whispered to him, lowering herself to his height and placing her lips on his temple. Cassian closed his eyes, "I'm sorry," he said to her, taking her hand and carrying it to his chest. He pulled himself up, positioning himself so that she was standing in front of him.

She smiled at him again, "Listen to me, as long as you tell me you didn't say anything too specific is fine with me. If they don't realize that I'm sick, that I'm not well mentally, that's not our problem right now".

Ours. Cassian took a deep breath.

"I should have kept silent anyway, it wasn't up to me to say..."

"Did you tell them that I am going to therapy?"

Cassian shook his head to deny it, "No, of course not."

Nesta wrapped her arms around his neck, tiptoeing and putting her lips on his. Cassian kissed her in turn. "That's alright then," she murmured on his lips.

"I'm so sorry, Nes." He caressed her side and she leaned closer to him.

"I’ve got your back and you have mine, remember?" she asked him.

Cassian nodded only once. "You have my back, and I have yours. Always." he repeated like a mantra. She kissed him one more time, then placed her head on his shoulder and hugged him.

"I love you."

"I love you," he repeated.

They remained in that position, one close to the other, for a very long time. So much so that when Nesta spoke, Cassian jolted, making her laugh and detach from him.

"Sorry," she said with a tired smile on her lips, "When I saw you at the door so upset I thought you had come to break up with me."

It was Cassian's turn to laugh. "You know I would never do that, don't you?"

"Yes, I know."

She said it in such a relaxed tone, so familiar, that Cassian couldn't help but look at her and hold her face in his hands, kissing her again.

"What are you going to do with the others?" he asked her as they both dragged themselves to her bedroom. Nesta grimaced, scratching the back of her neck.

"I don't have the slightest idea, I guess if-" her phone vibrated on the bedside table. Nesta raised an eyebrow, " What the..?" She took the phone in her hand and when she read what was written on it she opened her eyes wide, looking up at Cassian. "It's Feyre, she asked me if we can meet tomorrow. Us and... her, Rhysand. Everyone."

He nodded, starting to undress and opening one of the drawers where he kept some of his stuff. "And are you going to go?" when she didn't answer immediately, Cassian turned around and saw her holding the phone in her hands and looking at the screen, looking focused. "Nes?"

Silence.

"You know that if you don't want to talk to them, you don't have to? No one is forcing you to do..."

"No, I think they deserve it. I owe them some explanations..." she stammered, clutching the phone even tighter.

"And they owe you an apology." grunted Cassian.

She nodded with conviction, as if she hadn't heard what he had just said, and placed the phone on the bedside table. "I'll answer tomorrow though, they may suffer a little more if the things they said tonight were so bad as to make you explode".

They slipped under the sheets and when Nesta's back pressed against Cassian's chest, they fell asleep, one lulled by the other's breath.

A/N: What I wrote here is probably the most personal thing I will ever write in my entire life. The few people who know me and with whom I've talked with even just once in "dark" moments know that, for me, talking about how I feel, what I feel in certain situations, is really hard. Not so much to tell the thing itself, as to have to say how my mind reacts to a precise thing. In short, I don't know how to talk about emotions.

I have a friend, a friend who I really care about and who is part of my family. She is special in the best way, the problem is that I am the only one who really knows her. She is my Nesta. Or at least, as far as this specific ff is concerned, I am this Cassian and she is this Nesta.

I've never known anyone who was really committed to know her. I have never known anyone who would try to get over that first wall, so high that sometimes you would think it has no end. She is good. She has a heart of gold. And there are those rare cases, like Azriel in my ff, who believe me when I say that she is not like that. Who believe me when I say that it is not her fault if she is forced to behave in a certain way. That she’s working on her problems, but it takes time and they need to be patient.

Most of the world though, is obviously filled with Feyres and Rhysands and Morrigans. And it's hard to reason with these people when Nesta presents herself as... well, as Nesta. But that doesn't give them the right to call that person a whore, bitch, heartless. It does not give them the right to treat a person as if they were less just because they don’t understand their traumas.

And the weight that I carry on my shoulders every day for her, to protect her from people who would treat her less for her issues, unfortunately crushes me as much as it crushes her.

I have no Cassian.

I cannot rely on anyone.

Her problems are so big that my brain, however open to this kind of thing it is, is not able to find solutions. And I cannot let off steam because her problems are secret. And she has asked me, me rather than 7 billion other people, to keep these secrets. I can’t just simply look for answers in others’ minds cause that’s not how it works.

And the fear that I feel every day. The terror of not being enough to be able to help her, is excruciating.

But I would never want her to know I think these things, cause I know for a fact that it would hit her to the core and she’d think she’s just trouble and that I don’t wanna be there for her. That’s how it would turn out for us and I know it, and I can’t change that cause there’s a balance that need to be maintained.

So, for all those who are out there, who carry the weight of others on their shoulders without being able to share it with anyone else for fear of hurting their Nesta, you are not alone.

acotar taglist (if you want to be added/removed send me an ask or dm me)

@tottenhamboys20 @sjm-things @kris10maas @awesomelena555 @sannelovesreading @queenamydien29 @ireallyshouldsleeprn @messyhairday-me @observationanxioustheorist @my-fan-side @booksstorm @maastrash @sayosdreams @thedarkdemigod @courtofjurdan @thewayshedreamed @silvermindwarrior

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wisteria-lodge · 3 years

Text

burnt snake primary + bird secondary [model?]

Hi! I have been aware of the Sorting system for a long time now but I always get stuck in typing myself. I was wondring if you could shed some light on the process.

If we go by what I score at the test, it's usually a tie between Snake and Lion primary (most likely Bird last) and Bird/Badger secondary (most likely Lion last).

Internal primary / Built secondary, I can work with that.

If we go by the "favorite characters" test then most of them are Snake primary and/or Bird secondary. I also have found that Lion doesn't exactly mess well with me, most character with a Lion anything get on my nerves but that's not a constant.

Fictional lions can be exaggerated in a way that works as a power fantasy for real lions... but I’m mostly just interested to see if the ‘favorite character’ test works out.

I've also come to realise in real life that i absolutely hate deception or betrayal especially if it comes from someone I trust/close to me.

I mean... is there anyone who is like ‘yes, I’m totally cool with people I trust betraying me.’

I also have an issue with loyalty and honesty both so I can understand why Snake/Lion is tied for my primary. My issue with Snakes is that I don't think I have this "no matter what" support. I bond with people a lot but if they don't treat me right I will push back, I will cry, I will tell them off

Snakes might have more trouble than Lions when it comes to breaking with people who mistreat them... and they might feel more conflicted and “sticky” afterwards, since being loyal to people is the base of their morality. But they will absolutely do it.

Think about a Lion changing their mind versus a Bird changing their mind. They both *do* it, but since a Bird has access to all the levels of their system, it’s all very consciously constructed, and they’re used to poking at it - change isn’t usually *that* big of a deal.

But I’m a Lion. If I’m going to change my mind, I need to smacked over my head with the lesson, usually multiple times (although I’m getting better about that...) I’m going to have a mini existential crisis (those things clear out the cobwebs.) And then I’ll be emotionally recalibrated. Snakes are internal primaries just like Lion, so their process is more like that. Dropping people is hard and emotional and sticky, but when they are dropped they are dropped. Badgers, since their *reasons* for whether or not they are responsible for someone are much clearer and more accessible, have an easier time writing people off.

if I don't get the level of intense I'm looking for I will translate that as "not caring enough" and I'll break up or if that's not possible for whatever reason i'll be miserable.

You certainly want to get Snake loyalty directed at you, and if you don’t get it, you’re miserable. And the fact that something like that would make you miserable... is making me think Snake. This is very Snake-flavored angst.

A huge sourse of pain in my life had been some things that happened with my father that I translated as him probably loving himself more than me. I always see that Snakes stay loyal to their close ones no matter what and I'm like: why would I stay unwavering to someone that hurts me?

You wouldn’t. You shouldn’t. No one should.

I didn't abandon my dad when he was sick but I'm pretty sure I was Burned and resnting him 24/7 (sorry for the heavy stuff).

Being a caregiver is INCREDIBLY hard (there’s a reason you can hire people to do it, and they’re payed so well.) Being a caregiver to a family member is even harder, and being a caregiver to a family member who’s hurt you is probably one of the hardest things a human being can do. It’s really, really not unusual at all to resent the sick person, and you should not feel guilty about it.

You also mention that Snakes understand other Snakes when they put their loved ones first and maybe in real life I do it but I have a huge example of me watching a Snake primary character not cutting off his love interest when she was awful to him from my perspective (emotional manipulation, choosing others before him, rejecting him, generally not loving him) and being LIVID about it.

I guess what I would say to you... is that even though the other primaries show their love differently, it does not mean they love any less intensely. A Badger choosing someone in need instead of you does not mean they are *not* loving you.

Generally I tend to prefer couples that have things in common and two Snake primaries together will most likely be my favorites, most of my ships are like that.

There is something very attractive about two Snakes in a relationship together, but remember that all these different primaries and secondaries do balance each other out. I tend to think that *exact* house matches make unfortunate romantic pairings. They re-enforce each other’s negative traits, get too extreme, and sometimes get stuck because they’ve only got the one way to approach, and solve a problem.

I have been very adamant about my friends not giving manipulative people the 'get go' to do whatever they want with them because I can see the indiference and the manipulation.

Manipulation is a problem solving strategy, indifference is a motive. They’re not the same thing.

I get mad when they don't listen to me eventhough I turn out to be right. Most of the times I have cut off people from my life is the reason I said preiously, that I don't think they give as much support as I do to them and they end up after a point on my "I don't need you in my life anymore" list.

I’m starting to think you’re a Burnt Snake. You are clearly Snake, and you want to distribute Snake loyalty to the people around you. But it doesn’t feel safe (probably because of baggage left over from your dad - he hurt you, so you’re scared that they will too.) So you’re hyper sensitive to anything that doesn’t feel like the most extreme devotion. And just like a Burnt Badger rejecting people preemptively, before they have a chance to fail them... you’re rejecting people because it hurts less than them rejecting you.

I think Lion gets up high because I can understand the need for following a 'cause' but in my case it's not exactly a moral cause, it's simply that I always wanted to be an actress and generally expand my knowledge on cinema/TV/theatre so I studied it. I wanted to be succesful in my job and get better and better and better. I am interested in prizes but only if they come as a recognition of my skillset (if that makes sense). I always thought that people were my priority even though the goal of achieving my dreams was always guiding me but as I grow older I'm not so sure anymore. I just know I couldn't be walking through life all alone.

This sounds like a Snake with no people (who wants people.) Without people, Snakes take care of themselves, and that often look likes job, money, prizes. (It’s where the old stereotype of “ambitious” comes from.)

When I was thinking about what I wanted to do for a living, I wanted something that would wake me up in the mornings and make me feel that my time at a job won't be wasted.

As do we all.

But I also needed for everything to be a real job, not charity for the "cause" eventhough I have worked A LOT just because I love doing some things and not ony to get paid. But I guess these things are fueled by my love and I don't see them as "profession" per se.

People? Until in we live in the Star Trek socialist utopia, you need to be paid for the work you do. Even if you’re working for a charity and even if you’re doing something you love.

Another pointer towards Lion is that I do identify with the thinking of systems and how they play a part in people's lives and how they should be changed. But I'm not sure I always did this. I think I've been Burned as well at some point (not sure if I still am) so that makes things difficult.

Yeah, you’re Burned. And sometimes Burnt Snakes will latch onto a Lion Cause, the same way that Burnt Lions will latch onto an individual’s morality. That’s actually pretty common.

The secondary thing is pretty simple imo, I think I'm a Bird but I might be Burned? I don't know if that "useful/fun" situation makes a difference for me because I always think that whatever I have collected is actually useful to me and if I got new skills, they would be useful to me as well at some point.

I don't know what else to write really, I think it's quite a lot to read already. If you have an inclination about my type I'd like to hear your opinion.

You haven’t talked at all about how you solve problems. Which might relate to burning, or it might not. But if you tend to collect skills and tools, that’s at least a Bird secondary model. <3

#sortinghatchats #sortme #wisteria sorts #snake primary #burnt snake primary #snake pri

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luvidzy · 4 years

Text

☆ genre: fluff

☆ pairing: han jisung x reader

☆ summary: you are han jisung’s stylist. you decide to tell him some stories.

☆ word count: 1.7k

☆ listen to: sweet talk by saint motel

You smiled as you tied your hair up and pulled on your apron. You loved your job, despite the demanding schedule and the sometimes impossible standards. Make-up was your passion and you loved the boys who you worked with. It also helped that you were being paid a good amount of money doing what you loved after leaving school to become a make-up artist.

You had been styling for Stray Kids since their debut, and after two years you had gotten quite close with all of them. Your job required you to be there for all promotions, music video shoots, and tours so after a while you formed bonds with the boys since you saw each other so much.

Specifically you formed a special bond with Han Jisung, the boy that you styled the most frequently. You couldn’t quite place when you fell for him, but something about his chill sense of being, his humor, and his overall cuteness made you fall for him. Of course your dreams would never come to fruition, due to the 3 year JYP dating ban. But you were more than okay with hiding your feelings and enjoying your friendship with Jisung as just that; a friendship and nothing more.

Today was the first day of shooting photos for GO LIVE, and you and the others were up early, coffee in hands, ready to make sure that the boys were looking their best for their photos. You were busy organizing your station when the door opened and 8 boys walked in, greeting the team. You smiled as Jisung spotted you and rushed over.

“Y/N! Morning!” You smiled at the smiley and cheerful boy, gesturing for him to sit down in the seat.

“Morning Ji! Excited for your photos today?” You asked, taking a sip of your coffee before grabbing the clips that would hold Han’s hair back while you did your work. Jisung nodded.

“Yep! And I know you’re gonna make me look super handsome!” He said, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. You could help but laugh, cheeks flushing slightly, as you went to grab the primer to begin putting on his face.

“Well thank you for the compliments, Sungie. I will do the best I can,” you said, rubbing the primer into his skin as softly as you could. Jisung’s natural skin was already smooth and soft, so you luckily didn’t need to put too much foundation on, just enough that the flash from the cameras wouldn’t wash him out. You smiled to yourself as you rubbed the primer into his cheeks, them moving with your motions.

“Hey, Y/N! You should tell Han that story you told us the other day!” Your friend, Aly, yelled from the other side of the room where she was currently working on Hyunjin’s makeup and hair. Jisung looked up at you, a questioning glance in his eyes as you laughed at the thought.

“Oh! You wanna hear a story, Ji?” You asked. Jisung nodded happily as you went to grab the foundations you needed to make his foundation color.

“Okay. I was telling the girls the other day about how one time I was at a birthday party for one of my friends and they wanted to play hide and seek,” you began, dabbing a light coat of foundation onto the idol's face.

“Anyway, they somehow managed to convince everyone that we should play it in the dark. So my friend went through the house, turned off all the lights and began counting.” Jisung hummed as you began dusting a light coat of setting powder onto his face to keep the foundation in place and matte.

“So, naturally, I begin walking around trying to find a good place to hide. But I didn’t realize that there were stairs near where we were standing. So as I’m walking, I accidentally reach the stairs and before I know it I’m fully tumbling down the stairs,” you said, beginning the light bit of eyeshadow that Han usually wore.

“My friends hear me, obviously, and are like ‘what happened?’. So they turn on their flashlights and go looking for the noise. They see me laying at the bottom of the stairs, just staring at the ceiling in a sort of existential crisis way. And my one friend, who was the seeker, as the audacity to look at me and say,” You moved away from Han’s eyes as you looked him dead in the eyes and imitating your friend said, “‘Found you.’ I was pissed!” You exclaimed as Jisung began to laugh at your story. You smiled as the idol laughed at your stupid story, the sound of it making your heart race ever so slightly.

“They didn’t even check to see if I had a concussion! So moral of the story is I may have had a concussion and not even known,” you said as Han began to settle down again.

“Damn, that sounds like something Felix and Hyunjin would do to me,” he said, calming his breathing. You heard Felix and Hyunjin let out some grunts or groans of disapproval, which made you chuckle as you began to pull out the eyeliner and brush to continue on his eyes.

“That’s not even the worst thing my friends have done or let me do! Okay, this story is a dosey so let me prepare you for the chaos,” you said, letting Jisung pretend to take a deep breath before he nodded. You chuckled softly before moving in to continue your job.

“So, I never went to college but a lot of my friends did. So they used to invite me to go to parties with them. So my one friend invited me to go to a party with her out of nowhere. And I agreed cause I had nothing better to do. We get there and I may or may not have had a bit too much to drink,” you said, causing Jisung to snort. You grinned as you continued.

“Anyway I was drunk, and my friend comes out of one of the rooms with a bottle of something and brings it to me. She hands it to me and asks ‘Is this whiskey or perfume?’ Now I was drunk and my brain wasn’t working so I was like, the only way to figure this out is to drink it! So I take the bottle from her and I take the top off and proceed to take a hefty swing, swallow, before saying ‘it is definitely perfume.’ I had to get my stomach pumped and I didn’t go to another party for about 3 months,” you finished. Jisung was full on cackling by now, bent over and holding his stomach as he laughed. You smiled at how his laugh sounded, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. You were glad that Han found your stories amusing, even if they were slightly embarrassing to tell. You’d embarrass yourself for hours if it meant getting to hear Han’s laugh.

It wasn’t until Han finally raised his head up that you realized the error of your ways. You gasped, covering your hand with your mouth as you observed Han’s face. The laughter had caused tears to form and now there were tears running down Jisung’s face that were black with a mix of his foundation color. Jisung stopped laughing once he saw your expression and then looked to the mirror quickly. He groaned when he noticed the colored streaks on his face.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. But technically this is your fault. You made me laugh too hard!” He said, causing you to hit his arm lightly. You sighed as you grabbed the makeup wipes, hoping to salvage your work.

“Hey, Y/N? Are you almost done?” Grace asked from where she stood beside Seungmin. You looked up to see the other stylists and their members were done. You waved her off.

“Almost. Go ahead, Jisung and I will be there soon!” You said, watching them nod and walk out the door. You were left alone with Jisung as you fixed his foundation and added more eyeliner to his eyes.

“Sorry about this, I didn’t know I was going to make you laugh so hard,” you said, dabbing his eye lightly. Jisung shook his head lightly, trying not to make any sudden movements.

“You’re fine. It really is my fault. Besides, I like your stories,” He grabbed your wrist to stop you and looked up at you with his big chocolate eyes, a smile playing on his face.

“Maybe you’d like to tell me more of them over a cup of coffee and a slice of cheesecake?” He asked. It took a moment for your brain to register that he was flirting with you and that he was asking you on a date. Your face turned bright red at the revelation and your heart began racing.

“But… you’re not supposed to date!” You exclaimed, trying to reason yourself out of the situation. Jisung shrugged.

“You’re right. But who said we needed to call it a date? I prefer to see it as two people who like each other getting to know one another better. Besides, my dating ban is only 3 years,” Jisung said, his voice dripping honey as he tried to convince you to go with him. You stared at him, his eyes peering into yours as you tried to figure out what to do. Finally you sighed, moving to finish his eyeliner.

“Fine. I suppose we can do that. But get ready, I’m gonna make you laugh so hard you bust a rib,” you said, a small smile on your face. Jisung cheered as you put your brushes down and took the clips out. Styling his hair ever so slightly, you stepped back.

“Okay dummy, you are ready. Now go before you’re even more late.” Jisung stood up and began to walk away before stopping. He turned around and planted a soft kiss on your cheek, before rushing out the door.

“See you later, Y/N!” He called. You stared at the door, a hand pressed to your cheek and a dazed expression on your face.

That boy would be the death of you. But you didn’t mind.

#han jisung #han jisung fluff #han jisung x reader #jisung #jisung x reader #han jisung imagine #han jisung x reader fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz #skz jisung #skz x reader

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max-is-tired · 4 years

Note

bad things happen request: A1 + roceit? -ren

Remember me (for centuries)

Pairing: the AU is queerplatonic Roceit and romantic Analogicality, but the ships are not very prominent in this installment

Characters: Roman Sanders, Janus Sanders, Remus Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders

Words: 3.835

Warnings: superhero AU, implied morally grey Janus, Remus and Roman, superpowers, swearing, a muzzle is used, fighting, there’s a character (OC) that has very black and white views and definitely goes too far because of it, if I need to add anything else please tell me

Notes: guess who’s back babey!!!!! After two months of writer block, I’ve managed to churn out this little monster in less than 3 days and I’m honestly lowkey real proud of it sjkcndjkscn it’s inspired by this idea I had the other day and after I remembered this specific prompt I just went full feral writer mode. I even have a few ideas for a sequel, so there’s that I guess!!

First fic for the @badthingshappenbingo!! The red squares are prompts that have already been requested, feel free to send more in though!! I don’t know how long it’ll take me to get to them but hopefully you won’t have to wait too long. Hope you guys like the fic!!!

Commission me!! Buy me a coffee!! Join my Discord server!! AO3!!

Once upon a time, there was a King.

He was as regal as he was mysterious, powers so strong he might as well have been able to make literal mountains kneel before him. Everyone knew of him, from the filthiest criminal to the richest man. He saw everything, heard everything, nothing and no one could escape his power. He was the judge and the executioner, protected the city in the way he saw most fit with the Puppeteer and the Duke standing at his sides.

The government called him dangerous. The people secretly called him a hero.

Once upon a time, there was a King. Until one day, he was no more -exactly how Roman had wanted it to be.

+++

Parting ways with Janus and Remus hadn't been easy. They'd been at his side since the very beginning, from the first appearance of his power to his decision to do whatever it took to protect those who couldn't.

"I'm always down to fight the government," Janus had said with a smirk, easily slipping into his Puppeteer alter ego as Remus simply swung his morning star around with a feral grin.

In the end, though, the King had had to go, and even then those two had supported his decision. What Roman had done to deserve his brother and his partner, he still had to understand. And besides, it wasn't as if he had had to cut them out of his life or anything! They still hung out lots during the day, either at the twin's apartment or at Janus' penthouse (being the only heir to a very rich family could have its perks, he supposed).

But at the end of the day, when the sun left the sky and the cover of the night fell over the city, it was the Puppeteer and the Duke who patrolled along the dirty rooftops, taking on those crimes Lady Justice seemed to overlook -Roman was nothing but a college student now and could only watch from afar, some part of him stubbornly longing for days that had since come to an end.

Or at least, that had been the plan. Then, well, Patton had happened.

They had met during a Psychology class they were both taking -for Patton, it was for his major, while Roman was just there for the credit. They had hit it off almost immediately, the both of them bonding over the pain that were morning classes and bemoaning how much money they were probably going to spend at the local coffee shop in order to survive the semester.

As much as he prided himself of being way smarter than people gave him credit for, Roman couldn't say he had figured his classmate's secret identity out immediately. It had taken him a few weeks and even then, he had needed Janus' help for his brain to click the dots into place.

Well, actually, it had been thanks to the recordings of one of the Puppeteer and the Duke's patrol sessions, during which the two had managed to stumble upon the new ragtag trio of superheroes, Storm, Heart and Logic, taking care of a small robbery downtown.

Janus and Roman had been analyzing the video, with Remus unhelpfully chucking pieces of popcorn at the back of their heads, when video-Heart had thrown his head back and laughed, grinning from ear to ear as Logic seemed to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Roman had frozen, the laugh ringing clear as day in his head as the last piece of a puzzle he hadn't known had been there slid into place -he knew that laugh, heard it every Tuesday and Friday morning before class as he sipped at his coffee and watched Patton try to fit as many puns as he could into a single sentence.

Patton was Heart. His friend was a superhero. Well, shit.

So yeah, Roman had figured it out and immediately started panicking about the newfound information. Janus and Remus, of course, had found the entire thing hilarious, teasing him about having somehow managed to stumble upon and befriend a superhero without even knowing it.

In the end, though, what exactly could he do? Roman was only a college student, and it wasn't like Patton was doing this alone -he had Storm and Logic by his side, keeping him safe and watching his back. His friend would be fine.

Then, of course, in came Virgil and Logan, the infamous roommates Patton had wanted to introduce him to since day one. In less than an hour, Roman had managed to help Pat gently bully Virgil out of his binder for the night and start a debate with Logan about the scientific accuracy of Elsa's powers and just how theoretically powerful she could have become based on the abilities she had showed in the movies.

(Olaf's existence had sparked a whole other tangent about conscience and the existence of souls on a metaphysical level, but Roman was not going to think about it lest he ended up having another existential crisis).

The real plot twist had happened much later into the night, when Roman had woken up to frantic whispering and soft rustling coming from somewhere to his right. Still keeping his eyes shut, he'd managed to catch the words "robbery" and "be careful" before hearing one of the windows gently slide shut.

Making sure to not alert anyone about his eavesdropping, Roman had waited until all he could hear was steady, even breathing before quietly sitting up, eyes shining gold into the darkness for a second before spotting Logan and Patton's figures on the ground -as for Virgil, he seemed to be nowhere to be found, the apartment being completely silent beside the two sleeping soundly beside him.

Roman had a suspicion. A very nagging suspicion in the back of his mind that was probably going to bother him until he got to the bottom of his. So, in the morning, he'd said goodbye to his new friends and headed to Janus' place, pondering over alternative explanations on the way over. Not that it would have been of any use since Janus did confirm that a robbery had taken place the night before, and that it had been halted by no other than Storm himself.

So. Virgil was Storm. Which, by taking the most logical leap, meant Logan was no other than Logic. Cool cool cool. No doubt no doubt no doubt.

… There was no way Roman could sit back and watch, was it?

And so, Prince stepped into the light, flames dancing on his fingertips and on the blade of his katana -a gift from Janus, who had reacted to Roman's sheepish smile with an eyebrow raise- and a bright red sash crossing his chest.

Logan and the others had been rather welcoming to the new superhero amongst their group, if not a little skeptical about his motives -Roman could not quite tell them he was doing all of this to give them an additional layer of protection, since he knew from experience just how dangerous the superhero gig could be. They thought all he wanted was to protect the innocents like a knight in shining armor, and he just never bothered to correct them. It wasn't like that was a lie, anyway so he didn't really feel guilty about it.

… Okay, maybe he felt a little guilty about keeping his former identity a secret. So what? It wasn't like he could go to his new friends and say "Hey, remember that one dude that scared the shit out of everyone? Yeah, that was me, fun times am I right??". And besides, it wasn't like King was going to do a comeback anytime soon, if ever. Right?

Wrong. So very, very wrong.

+++

It had started as a normal night-time patrol around the outskirts of the city. Roman had been joking around with Virgil, jumping easily from rooftop to rooftop as they exchanged dry remarks and teasing nicknames with Logan and Patton watching on in amusement.

Then, suddenly, an explosion.

They'd all frozen, exchanging quick glances as a cloud of smoke started to rise into the distance. Without a word, the four had bolted, the easy atmosphere that had surrounded them up until that moment gone in an instant as they prepared themselves to deal with whatever was expecting them.

They reached the plaza in a few minutes, immediately setting out to assess the damage. Strangely enough, there didn't seem to be much out of order -there were no civilians around, the few that had been around at that time of the night having been probably startled away by the explosion -which had probably gone off at the center of the square, judging by the debris and fairly-sized hole. Though the cause of it didn't seem to be anywhere to be found.

At least, until an amused chuckle resounded from behind the four.

They turned around, ready for a fight, only to be met with a grinning Nautilus.

"Oh, how nice of you guys to drop in!" the hero chirped, his grin only widening even more -Roman did not like the crazy glint in the other's eyes, his hand moving to hover a little closer to the hilt of his sword as a bad feeling started to pool in the pit of his stomach.

"Hello, Nautilus!" Patton greeted, his smile now a little tense around the edges -Roman couldn't help but feel glad he wasn't alone in his distrust, not missing the way Logan and Virgil also seemed to be a little more on guard.

It wasn't like Nautilus was a villain or anything, at least not for the public opinion. He meant well, Roman knew that, but the way he viewed the world -black and white, good vs evil with no space for anything else in-between those extremes- was something Roman just couldn't trust, knowing all too well how such a way of thinking could very easily skew someone's morals way too close to ruthlessness and self-justified cruelty.

So yeah, Nautilus might have been a hero, but Roman wouldn't trust him with the life of the most innocent of kittens.

"Nautilus, do you know the cause of that explosion?" Logan spoke up, his expression unreadable.

"Oh, that was me, nothing to worry your pretty brain about my dear Logic," Nautilus responded, waving the concern away with way too much nonchalance for Roman's liking. "I was just taking care of some little pests, nothing to worry about."

"By making the fucking square blow up?" Virgil asked, scoffing.

The other simply shrugged, once again dismissing the remark. "Sometimes you gotta do some harsh things to get rid of a problem, don't you agree?"

Oh, Roman did not like that smile one bit.

"What do you mean?" he asked, forcing himself to keep his voice neutral as his grip on his sword tightened.

Still smiling, Nautilus snapped his fingers, a water tendril appearing from behind him. And in its grasp, a familiar figure uselessly struggled for freedom, brown eyes glaring daggers at the hero's back. Faintly, Roman could easily picture the snarl currently adorning the Puppeteer's lips.

Lips he could not see, because Janus' mouth was currently being covered by a muzzle.

"Pretty cool right?" Nautilus grinned, stepping onto another tendril to let himself be carried at Janus' level. "A friend of mine made it, perfect to stop our local charmer from using his nifty powers."

Ignoring the way the other heroes were staring at him in various stages of horror, he grabbed Janus' chin, tugging his face forward until they were barely inches apart.

"Not so cocky without that silver tongue of yours, uh?" he purred, before pushing him back. "It's high time you face the consequences of your evil doings, you slimy snake."

But the Puppeteer's eyes were no longer glaring at Nautilus. No, they were trained on Roman's form, on his clenched fists and the way his eyes kept flashing a familiar golden color.

"Well, look who's gone and fucked up!" a voice chirped from above, attracting everyone's attention to the top of one of the surrounding buildings. The Duke gave the heroes a toothy grin and waved, legs swinging into the air with his signature morning star resting idly on his shoulder.

"Ah, the Duke," Nautilus hummed, crossing his arms with a cocky smirk, "I was wondering when you'd show up. Are you here to rescue your dear teammate? Please, do try, I'd love to bring down two villains in one day."

For the surprise of almost the entire square, the Duke let out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back as his whole body shook with the force of his cackles.

"Oh, please! As if I'll need to do literally anything," he said, amusement lacing every word. "This is your funeral, dude. You really angered the wrong royal."

Nautilus frowned, opening his mouth to reply -probably to ask what in the world the other was talking about- but all that left his lips was a startled yelp, fighting to keep himself steady as the earth started to rumble and shake beneath his feet. Because of the sudden distraction, all the tendrils of water broke off, included the one holding the Puppeteer. Without missing a beat, Remus jumped down and grabbed Janus before he could pummel the ground, holding him bridal style while sporting his best shit-eating grin.

"Told ya!" he sing-sang, sending Nautilus a mocking glare. Not that the hero was looking at him, mind you. He was more focused on his fellow "hero" standing just a few feet to the center of the square, his eyes blazing golden.

"Duke," called Roman, his voice clear and authoritative as it carried all around the plaza, "get him out of that damned muzzle, would you?"

"Aye aye sir!!" Remus chirped, easily ripping the piece of metal away. "Do you think you could leave a few bones intact for me to break? I wanna have some fun too!"

"Sorry, Duke-" the other chuckled, the sound sounding almost haunting to everyone else's ears- "but I don't know if I’ll have enough self-control left to do that."

A circle of golden light appeared at Roman's feet, rising up in the air and enveloping his body as it went. And then it was gone as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving behind a vision no one had ever thought they'd see again.

Bright, golden eyes. Hair as dark as the night. The uniform of a royal, a burgundy sash crossing his chest from shoulder to hip. In his hand, a familiar sword glinted under the artificial light of the street lamps, the hilt the same golden as its owner's irises.

The Prince was gone, lost in a circle of golden light. And at his place stood a very angry-looking King.

"That- that can't be!" Nautilus exclaimed, taking a step back. "You're gone, you can't be here!"

"Can't I?" The King -Roman, the King was Roman- asked, cocking his head to the side. "Who are you to tell me where I can and cannot be, Nautilus?"

"I'm a hero!!" the other snapped, his words laced with the desperation of a man who is standing face to face with his impending doom. "I'm a hero, you rotten king, and I after tonight I will be remembered as the one who wiped you and your villainous reign out of this city!"

Roman hummed, looking absolutely unimpressed as he calmly inspected his sword.

"You call yourself the hero… and yet, you are the one using downright torture-like methods to try and squash down those who don't fit your narrow view of good. All the Duke and I did was rescue our companion form your grasp. So tell me, Nautilus -are you really sure I'm the one you should call "villain" here?"

The hero growled at those words, eyes flashing in barely contained rage as tendrils after tendrils of water rose up behind him. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging for forgiveness at my feet."

"Oh honey," the King drawled, lips stretching into a feral grin, "at the end of this, I won't be the one begging for their life."

And off they went, crashing into each other in a whirlwind of water and metal.

Taken as they were with each other, the two supers barely spared a glance to the huddle of five people looking on from the side of the square.

"What the fuck." Storm whispered, staring shell-shocked at the scene in front of him. "What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck-"

"I know, right?" the Duke exclaimed, completely ignoring the hero's obvious growing panic.

"Duke, play nice," the Puppeteer drawled, with the heat of someone who had had to deal with the other's antics for way too long to really care anymore.

"Storm, please take some deep breaths for me," Logic said, stepping into Virgil's line of sight. "Do you remember your breathing techniques, yes?"

Storm nodded, visibly trying to get his breathing under control to do just that. Heart, obviously worried, moved to sit beside him, resting one hand on his shoulder to tap a regular rhythm there.

Virgil looked up at him with a small, grateful smile, raising his own hand to cover Patton's before closing his eyes to focus on his breathing.

Once it was clear Storm's panic wasn't going to advance any further and risk affecting his powers, Janus let his eyes wander towards Logic's standing figure, the hero's gaze fixed on the ongoing fight.

"You don't seem too fazed with the revelation," the Puppeteer pointed out, arching an eyebrow. "I mean, it's not every day you find out your teammate is actually the very ex-vigilante that used to terrorize the city."

"If I remember correctly, the people targeted by the King's actions were almost all corrupt politicians and crooked cops," Logic pointed out, turning his head to look at the vigilante. "And besides, I already had my suspicions."

Janus couldn't help but let out an amused chuckle. "What was it that tipped you off?"

"Honestly, I started growing suspicious during the Prince's first day on the field," the hero shrugged, pushing his holographic glasses up his nose. "He looked way too familiar with fights involving supers to be a newbie. Add in the pseudo he chose, plus the somewhat similar outfit… once the doubts started creeping in, it was relatively easy to connect the dots."

"Roman," the Puppeteer piped up, "I know you guys know him outside of the mask, so we can use his name -all the royal pseudonyms can get real old real fast."

Logic gave the vigilante a long look before nodding, letting out a soft sigh. "I suppose that makes sense, since you all were allies prior to the King's disappearance. I suppose you won't be sharing the reason of that, by the way?"

Janus shook his head. "It isn't my story to tell -I'm a keeper of many secrets, Logic, and I'm not about to go divulge them without a valid reason to. If he wants to tell you, he will. In his own time."

"Normally, I would point out that we cannot be sure that Roman will even be able to tell us, since he's currently going against one of the heroes with most raw power," Logan pointed out, "but I have heard enough stories about the King's power to be fairly optimist about his odds in this fight."

Janus chuckled, nodding in agreement.

"Case in point-" he said, gesturing back towards the square- "it looks like the winner has just become clear."

Just as he finished speaking, Nautilus came skidding on the pavement towards them, bruises and cuts covering his whole body as he struggled to get up again.

"Told you I wouldn't be the one praying for mercy on my knees, hero," the King drawled, his uniform looking barely crumpled by the fight.

"I will never bow to you, villain," Nautilus growled, fighting to keep himself upright.

Roman arched an eyebrow, an infuriatingly amused smirk tugging at his lips. "Are you sure about that? because you look just about to fall over."

"You may have defeated me, but soon the entire world will know the truth!" the hero shot back. "Their beloved Prince, hiding such a rotten secret… how do you think they will react? Every hero will not rest until you and your companions are locked shut behind bars. Your time is coming to an end, King, and I'll make sure to save myself a front-row seat for the day you'll finally be kicked down from your throne of evil."

"A very poetic imagery, I'm sure," the Puppeteer drawled from behind them, gathering everyone's attention on himself, "though I'm afraid you won't be able to reveal jack shit, you pompous asshole."

Nautilus frowned in confusion until he felt a slight tugging at his hand. Eyes widening, he snapped his head down, eyes zeroing on the yellow string wrapped loosely around his wrist.

"Sleep now, and forget," Janus ordered, eyes flashing bright yellow, and down Nautilus went, knocked out cold.

Silence fell, only interrupted by the faint sounds of sirens approaching from afar. After a few seconds, Heart went to open his mouth, hand outstretched towards the King's back, only for the vigilante to suddenly bolt without a single word and disappear into the night.

Janus and Remus exchanged a look, obviously debating something between themselves without using any words.

"Go," Logic called, catching their attention. "We won't tell, we promise."

The two vigilantes looked at the trio, watching as both Storm and Heart nodded in agreement. Then they smiled, saluted, and took off.

"Do you think Ro will come back?" Heart asked worriedly, eyes traveling from the direction the three had taken to the quickly-approaching blue and red lights in the distance.

"He better, or I'll go and find him myself," Storm muttered darkly, biting at his thumb.

"Only time will tell, there is no use in worrying about that now," Logic sighed, just as the first police car drove into the square. "For now, we better come up with a believable story. They'll want to know what exactly caused the square to blow up in the first place."

"Why lie?" Heart asked, giving his friend a small smile, "after all, Nautilus was the one who did it, wasn't he?"

Logic smirked lightly, nodding. " I suppose that is true."

"You know, sometimes I forget just how much of a little shit you can be," Storm commented, tone laced with amusement. "Then you go and pull things like this, and I get reminded all over again."

"Kiddo, language!" Heart gave an exaggerated gasped, eyes twinkling in mischief. "I just don't like lying, you know that."

Logic watched as the two snickering heroes approached the police, shaking his head with a small smile. Tonight might have raised quite a few questions, but he had no doubt the answers would come, eventually.

All in due time, he supposed.

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springmagpies · 4 years

Text

My Uncle Reacts to AoS Season 4

So, instead of getting chores done this morning, my uncle and I finished Season 4 of Agents of Shield. Here are his reactions! Enjoy! Fair warning, it is a long post because Steve had a lot of feelings.

4x01

Before the episode: I’m guessing Coulson was like “I got too close to the situation and could no longer be impartial.” And then he passed over the title of director to May or that general guy. Talbot! That’s his name.

He’s like ghost rider is all. Holy crap he is ghost rider! I didn’t realize he was marvel.

Why’d they have to break up the band?

I am concerned about the robots.

Well, ghost rider is badass.

4x02

“You’re an engineer Mack. And a small tank.” Bwhahahahahaha, that’s so true.

The director is Talbot. Ooooh, not Talbot. Someone new.

Oh, Daisy has a picture of Lincoln. I miss him.

May is not okay. May needs a nap.

I still can’t get over Mack offering that maybe they’re just ghosts. Fitzsimmons faces were amazing.

Mace is such a politician.

4x03

*Lincoln is mentioned* Owwwwwww

I love the Phil, Mack, and Fitz team up.

Wow, Fitz is badass this episode.

Okay, so Elena is amazing. That shot with the light was awesome!

4x04

Fitzsimmons moving in together, count me in.

I see where Daisy is coming from, but not awesome that she’s using her friends and then leaving.

Come on Daisy! Come home.

Heylo? Hahahahaha

Radcliffe, I don’t think telling the android it’s okay to lie sometimes is a good idea.

What’s that face she’s giving? Oh shit, is she feeling things? Is she feeling things for Fitz. That’s not good.

I don’t trust James. *moments later* Called it.

Yes, Mack, two fire dudes just fell into fireworks.

Jemma for sure knows she’s an android.

“I prefer a classical beauty myself.” Awww, Fitz.

4x05

Oh, Fitz, a high five will not fix her being mad at you. Trust me.

“I’m sure they have it under control.” *cuts to chaos* Okay, that’s the best transition of the whole show.

Robbie, please don’t go after that guy. Just keep going please. Dammit. Why can no one just follow instructions in Shield.

Way to go Jemma! But what happened with Mace?? What did he do?

May had a heart to heart with her and she’s still leaving? Is Daisy really going to leave after all of this? She can’t, right?

Robbies uncle is going to get sucked into that book. Yeah, look at his expression. That’s not good at all is it.

Well that senator sucks.

4x06

*Mace mad at Coulson* Daaaang

Fitz is so smart. He would be a millionaire if he was an inventor or something. But he just wants to help people.

Wait, shit, Eli is bad!

*Fitz, Coulson, and Robbie disappear* Oh no!!!! Wait, that’s how the episode ends! Noooo!!

4x07

Shit, where are they.

Oh, so that’s where they are. That’s not good.

“I have to phone Simmons to tell her... I’m in another dimension.” Bwhahahahaha oh no.

That’s not Mack. Holy shit!

“Oh Mack’s the ghost rider no big deal. But you can’t hear us.” Oh my god, these lines are amazing.

The dialogue this episode is fantastic.

No!!!!! Don’t give the darkhold to Radcliffe. He’s already so morally grey!!!

Fitz is going to hit Mace

Aww, Fitzsimmons

There’s some flirtation with Phil and Melinda going on.

Have we seen who’s in that photo Mack is looking at? Hope?

Oh hey Robbie, how was hell.

Ummm, is Aida building a brain? Is she corrupted. Yep. She’s corrupted. We’ve got a corrupted android. Great.

4x08

Coulson’s comedic timing is everything.

Oof, Robbie is not having a good time.

“Oh yeah, Fitz solved that” Of course he did. He’s Fitz.

*Badass Fitzsimmons duo scene* They truly are a dynamic duo aren’t they. That shot was awesome!

*Daisy looking at Robbie’s car* well, you’ve got a sweet car.

*Mackelena finally kiss* gasps. There it is!

*Aida kills Nathanson* Oh dears.

*Reveal that May is an LMD* Wait wait wait. Holy shit. Oh shit. Damn.

4x09

Aida’s so sweet to May. And she sweetly killed Nathanson like it was nothing. Not creepy at all.

Once again Mack’s lines are amazing.

Yeah, don’t attack the android guys. Not a good idea.

“Why would you want to hurt me Leopold.” Aaaah haaaa, umm. No.

“Well, Simmons has only been kidnapped twice on this planet.” Hahahahahahaha that’s hilarious.

Smart people are stupid. That’s amazing.

*Aida freezes may* AAAH, she doesn’t even know she’s a robot!

*Radcliffe reveal* O. M. G. He’s corrupted. He played them. Asshole. Dammit he read it for just a second! No!

This is a good part of the show! I’m really enjoying this.

4x10

What the heck’s in that brief case?

And Radcliffe is now super creepy.

Poor Fitz, he doesn’t know his friend totally betrayed him.

“I did this to protect you.” Awww, Fitz. I mean, let’s not make robots, but that’s still really sweet. He just wanted to protect Simmons and everyone.

*May wakes up* Jesus, god May. She’s a badass. Imagine waking up like that! God! That’s terrifying.

“I can’t help feeling like somethings off.” Yeah, May, you aren’t real.

Mace isn’t an inhuman! Oh damn.

*Fitz analyzing Aida’s head* Uh oh Fitz.

“Is it weird that I found that attractive?” Hahahahahahahaha. Fantastic.

*Coulson back in charge* hell yeah!

*May finds out she’s an LMD* Aaaaaaah! Well, that’s an existential crisis.

4x11

Does Radcliffe have more of them? Because he just happened to have May.

*May waking up over and over again* Feels like I’m watching The Good Place.

*Aida breaks a glass* That’s concerning that a robot would make a mistake like that.

*Hope reveal* Oh that’s awful! Poor Mack.

Whose the other LMD?

*Radcliffe LMD reveal* Ohhhh noooo. Poor Fitz.

4x12

Hey! I was wondering where the lanyard guys were!

“You’re going all Gollumy again” bwhahahahaha that’s amazing

“I’ve lost too much already, I’m not losing you.” Awww, Phil.

*Robo Radcliffe talks about Fitz’s past* Oh my gosh, that explains so much. Oh Fitz! Screw Fitz’s dad.

How many Koenigs are there?

Awww, baby Fitz!—Maggie

I bet that’s his real mom too!—Steve

Fitz and Simmons are cute!

*Philinda kiss* Noooo! She’s a robot!

“Sorry, you weren’t meant to last” Radcliffe you ass. You evil ass.

4x13

*Agnes reveal* Eeeek, creepy. That’s who she’s based on!

Wait, is she really Australian? Damn, she does a great American accent.

Mace really got the short end of the stick in a lot of this didn’t he.

*Shockley gets turned into an inhuman* Oooh shit.

Did they just put Shockley on the plane. The dude that blows up? Well, damn.

*Fitzsimmons realize Shockley is the bomb* Way to go dynamic duo. Now gooooo! Oh, they’re going. Simmons pushing Fitz is amazing.

Aaaaaah! Fitz! Fitz and Mace!

*Fitzsimmons hug* Awww. I know I’ve said it before but they’re cute.

Noooo! Mace! Shit they kidnapped Mace!

*Aida takes put on Agnes’s necklace* Ewwwww, creepy. Creepy creepy creepy! Aaah.

4x14

*The superior walking* He must have this ‘I’m so cool face’ on at all times.

Aww, is Radcliffe in there to be with Agnes. That’s so sad.

*Flashback with Phil and May* Aww, May is all playful. It’s before the sad times.

*Mace chained* that’s not great for your circulation.

They’re going to kill Mace. No, don’t kill Mace.

“Morales, you’re with me.” Uh oh, Morales. More redshirts with names making me nervous.

“You’ve enhanced yourself with alien technology.” Actually Fitz built his hand.

“Cool origin story, bro.” Okay, that’s incredible.

“Concern only slightly lessened.” Davis is just like ‘thanks dude.’ Fantastic.

Mack doesn’t need super powers to be a badass.

*LMD reveal* Holy shit. Holy shiiiit. They switched out all four of them??? All four??? Holy shiiiit. Fitzsimmons are all alone. Aaaahaaa.

“Even filth has a purpose.” Ewwww, and she’s leaning over him like that. So creeeeppyyy. Eewwww.

“He’s a shrink.” Oh awwww. It’s Andrew. She falls in love with him.

Well I guess Phil and Melinda’s robots can be together. Kind of weird but okay.

Oh my god, this is stressing me out!!!

‘Even filth has a purpose.” Gaaah, ewww. I’m still thinking about it.

So is Radcliffe even in control anymore? Or is he too preoccupied with the framework to care. Like, is Aida just doing whatever the heck she wants now because that’s unsettling.

4x15

Where are all of them? Oh they’re in the framework. Uh oh.

Ewwww, Aida is evil! He’s (Ivanov) alive and she’s cutting into him.

Aaah, they’ve got them surrounded. It’s so creepy.

This is some body snatchers shit.

*fitzsimmons LMD scene* *Steve biting his nails with wide eyes* oh my god that was awful.

*Steve rewinds to rewatch the LMD scene* they’re so good. And it hurt so much to see Fitz go so cold. Owwww. Because it was him and how he would act and then it just shuts off. Ugh, they’re so good.

*Jemma stabbing Fitz scene* Oh he’s thought about getting married. Oh my god, that’s so awful. So disturbing. That hurts. They’re so talented.

*Daisy LMDs* Ohhhh that’s so disturbing. This is all so disturbing. Oh my gosh.

*Daisy and Jemma scene* Awwww, they found the only other person to trust. That’s so sweet. Gosh, that was also a brilliantly acted scene.

They’re all such good actors. All of them.

God, this is all so disturbing.

*Aida kills Radcliffe* oh shit. Aaaaah. That’s so creepy.

“Because you and Fitz belong together.” Thats the truth.

“Their poor base” -Maggie

“And they just retiled the bathrooms.” -Steve

Ooh, quake jump, that’s so cool.

*Slow motion quake* That’s sooo badasssss!

*Davis flying the Zephyr* Aah, Davis. Careful. He just started training.

*LMD May blows up the base.* oooh ho. Damn.

“Lincoln?” Oh noooo. That’s awful.

*Ward reveal* Whaaaaat?

*Coulson reveal* Whaaaaaat?

*Mack reveal* oh nooo, he’s got his daughter.

*Fitz reveal* Whaaaaaat? But, damn.

*Jemma reveal* Whaaaaaaaaat? She’s in a grave? Who’s in the car with Fitz?

*May reveal* is she an avenger? *Hydra logo appears* Waaaaait. Whaaaaaaaaat?

What the hell is going on. What the hell? What is this place. Are they all evil? Some of them evil? Mack isn’t evil right?

*Ivanov’s head* Ewwww creepy.

Whaaaat the helllll. As Fitz would say *does Fitz impression* what the hell?

Dammit why do I have to put the kids to bed!! I want to watch the next episode!! Gosh dang it.

That’s disturbing count: around 15

4x16

“Skye?” Skye??? Skye!!!

*Logo* ooooh, agents of hydra

“You’re on another planet this morning.” Yeah, she is. No shit Ward.

*Daisy looks up Lincoln* Awwww. Owwwww.

*Jemma jumps from the grave.* Lucky she was in a shallow grave.

They’re having a bad week.

Vijay isn’t real. He’s at the bottom of the ocean.

*Ward punches Vijay* wait, did he want him to stop talking? Hmmm.

*Coulson class scene* Aaaahhaa that’s not awful at all.

*May Bahrain reveal* oh shit, it changed that much! Shit.

“We’ve got him doctor” Radcliffe? *Fitz reveal* Ooooh nooo! Noooo! Shit, noooo! Jemma died and he went all dark. Nooooo.

“It’s a magical place.” Oh damn!

“My father used to say...” Shit, does Fitz have his dad’s influence?????

*Ward double agent reveal* Ooooooh! Shiiit. That’s so interesting!!

“This isn’t the framework this is hell” Jemma’s so pissed.

“Drones, Dwarves. Whatever.” Awww, Jemma’s heart just broke right there.

Are they stuck in the framework! Well shit!

*Fitz and Aida kiss* Ewwww. I mean it makes sense in this world because of course she’s using Fitz but ewww.

She replaced Jemma with herself. That’s not creepy at all.

“Daisy?” Aaaah! He remembers!

This place is messed up! Interesting, but messed up!

4x17

“I make my own soap now.” Bwhahahahahaha. That’s amazing.

Aww, Mack has his daughter. And she’s adorable. Oh no!

Ophelia? Oooh, she’s got her own name.

“I’d cross the universe for you.” Ewwww! Noooo. He literally crossed the universe for Jemma.

*Fitz and Aida make out* *Maggie screams and Steve shivers* But why is Fitz so hot in the framework though—Maggie *Steve nods*

“The soap made me do it.” Bwhahahahaha

*Mace reveal* Aaaaah! Mace! He’s all gruff now and an inhuman! He got everything that he ever wanted.

“And we’ll make our society great again.” Ewwwwwwwhewe!

This is so interesting! I’m really liking it!

*Mack and hope get taken by Hydra* that’s so awful! That is so disturbing!

Coulson is so nerdy, I love it.

“You’re Daisy Johnson. We’re agents of shield.” Mack remembers.

*Revealed that Mack doesn’t remember* No! Shit.

*Fitz kills Agnes* *sharp intake of breath, Steve stays silent for a very long time.*

*Mack joins Shield* Good job Mack.

“How do you feel?”-Maggie.

Steve quietly: “sick.”

4x18

I love how Mace is all scruffy and his suits all scratched.

Aaah, evil Fitz makes me sad.

*Jemma seeing Mack and Hope* Yeah, it’s an oh shit moment.

“Tell your old man all about it.” *Steve gasps* Oh no.

“I don’t know the kind of man I’d be without you father.” “That’s why I’m here.” Yep, to brainwash him.

TRIP!

*Brainwash room* Oh no! It’s the other kid too! No!

MACE! Noooo! Why would Aida do that. She’s so evil.

That’s so messed up.

*May used Terrigen on Daisy* Yes. Good job May. And hopefully it’ll heal her in the process.

4x19

Ha, Bakshi has a tv show.

Aww, mace is dead. He was a good man.

*Daisy quakes Aida out a window* *Steve laughs* That took her by surprise didn’t it.

“It’s like sipping poison...” Mmm, Fox News.

“You’re the new head of hydra” Yikes.

*Ward throws remote* Umm, you guys have limited remotes!

*Steve pauses show* I don’t like any of this. It’s interesting but I hurt inside. It hurts that Fitz is evil. Mace is dead. Agnes is dead. Radcliffe is in prison. May was evil. I’m sad.

Aww, Coulson all of a sudden became that paternal leader.

Wait, so she totally used Fitz in like every way. What a jerk.

Trips the best.

Sorry Ward. She wants to feel bad for you but she can’t.

So much Scottishness this season. I love it.

*Radcliffe yells at Alistar* yep, because you’re a worthless asshole ya jerk. Oof, he just throat punched Radcliffe.

Aww, Coulson is coming into his own.

“When this is over-“ Do I get Skye! “Do I get my Skye back?” Called it!

I liked that scene with Grant. It was the redemption that the other Ward didn’t deserve but this one did. It was nice. Also really well acted.

“Hydra giving alternative facts.” Ooooh, they’re calling them out. They are so not fans of Trump and it’s amazing.

*Coulson on the news* This is Shield’s please vote! Please vote.

That was amazing.

4x20

Yeah, I hate all of this.

This all hurts.

*Fitz talks to Radcliffe* Come on Radcliffe, please don’t betray us. Please.

*Jemma kills Alistair* Well, that’s not going to help us.

“I’m sure everything is fine.” It is not. Simmons killed Fitz’s dad.

I hate this. It’s fascinating and I hate it. She’s just made him mad. God, no.

*Trip saying goodbye* Awww, this hurts. He’s goneeee in our world. Whyyyyy.

Is Aida trying to build her spine *body being built on the other side* Ohhh. Damn.

*Coulson gets shot* SHIT

*Coulson wakes up* You’re going to have to fight a killer robot, Phil.

*May wakes up* Awww she did it! She followed him!!

*Radcliffe redeems himself* Yes! Radcliffe! Yes! Thank you!

*Fitz falls through* Thank God!

Thank you Radcliffe.

*Mack not coming with* Maggie, I really don’t like this.

Oh gosh, Fitz is so freaked out. They’re all so freaked out. Aaah, Aida!

*Aida and Fitz teleport* Well that was unexpected.

I feel really ill. Like, this hurts a lot. I hurt a lot.

It’s like The Red Wedding but drawn out over 4 episodes and I hurt.

4x21

Before the episode: I came into the framework so optimistic and it crushed me. Like I thought May was an avenger and then it was like hahaha pain.

Oh yeah! And then she teleported with Fitz. JERK!

Fitz really got screwed by the framework didn’t he.

*Coulson kills Robo Ivanov with a shield* WOAHHH!!! That was amazing! ...and disturbing.

*Coulson recounts what happened with Robbie Reyes* BWHAHAHAHAHA. It sounds so ridiculous when you recount it but it’s so amazing watching it.

Will she stop teleporting Fitz! He already feels sick!

Yeaaaah, giving Fitz his abuser back and replacing the woman he loves with yourself is not what would make him happy Aida!

“If he wanted to kill us he could just flood the place. Why is he stalling.” TO FLOOD THE PLACE, PHIL!

“I drank the bottle of Haig” “you piece of—“ *Steve can’t stop laughing*

*Mack almost drowning* Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. OH SHIT.

*Fitz and Aida rescuing mack* THANK GOD.

*Jemma shoots Aida* well, yeah.

*Jemma shoots Fitz* Love ya Fitz, sorry man.

“What do we do with Fitz?” Talk to him!!

“I’m just like Ward.” Oh ho, that hurts.

“There’s only room in my heart for her.” YES! Oh shit, Aida’s not happy.

OH SHIT!

NO DAVIS! DAVIS!

*Toddler starts crying IRL over a toy* Now imagine if we gave her powers.That’s what’s happening with Aida.

*Fitzsimmons pod scene* oww

*Yoyo plugs herself into the framwork* This is a mess.

*Aida throws bottle in anger* His vodka!

*Aida and Ivanov scene* Aaah! Inhuman robot sex. Oh. Nope. Murder.

*Robbie comes back* Welcome back buddy! SHIELD shit has hit the fan.

4x22

“How do we kill Aida?” Hell chains? I’m thinking hell chains.

*Robbie waiting for Shield* Hello, back from another dimension? No way, us too!

Well Radcliffe is screwed if the framework is falling apart.

“I’ll talk to him. He’ll remember me.” No he won’t Elena. Wish he would though.

*Robo!Daisy shoots Talbot* *Steve sits with his mouth open* NO!! I mean, he could be annoying but he was a good man! And he’s been around since season 1!

“There’s a pulse.” How? Yay! But how?

“Once you say you can’t stop me. Well—“ it’s like when you say you feel safe on Survivor and then get voted off the island.

*Daisy & Robbie team up* Boom bitches!! That was super cool!

Mack’s not going to leave until Hope de-materializes. And that sucks ass.

“Robot May was much more supportive.” HA! That’s amazing.

EVERYTHING’S A MESS AND EVERYONE IS HURT AND DIE AND PAIN AND OWW AND THINGS.

Maggie: “What?”

Steve: “You heard me.”

*Aida kills LMD!Jemma* WHAT! What the hell? I feel so sick. Oh thank god she’s an LMD! But I feel ill.

Eeeewwwww the kiss Aida gave Fitz on the cheek is so disturbing.

*Jemma shoots Aida* YES! AWESOME!

*Coulson ghost rider reveal* HOLY SHIT THAT’S AMAZING! I FEEL SO MUCH BETTER!

*Aida dies* Well that was awesome and terrible and poor everyone.

They really do a great job of making you feel sick don’t they.

*Mack and Hope scene*

Maggie: “you okay?”

Steve: *wipes away tear* no.

Wait, is there more to Coulson’s deal with the Ghost Rider?

“Gave me a glimpse of the life I could have here.” Oooh! Mack and Elena! She did almost die for him. They’re in love.

*Robbie having to leave* He and Daisy couldn’t like kiss before he left? No? Fine.

*Daisy speech to Fitz* someone hug him, please!

*Diner scene* Whaaaat?

We’re in space next season!!?? Whooo!!

They’re all so messed up after all of this. I feel messed up after all of this.

#steve reacts to aos #personal nonsense #agents of shield #season 4

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llendrinall · 4 years

Note

So i got another fic idea in my head The dates are very important. 1 (May 1998) Percy was a Ministry spy and he worked closely with Albus. He saved a lot of lives no matter their blood or if they were creatures. And at the battle of Hogwarts he saves Freds life but hes in crit condition George is a total ass (He's angry and takes it out on Percy) going off at him saying nasty things along the lines of that Percy isn't welcome at the Weasley home anymore.

2 When he tries to go to the House to talk to them he's not treated very well ("Dont wanna hear excuses Percy"). He just give up, packs his things in his flat, & the next morning he goes, gives his mission reports that date from the start of his Ministry career along with his resignation letter on Shacklebot's desk. Then he's off to America to start over he snuck into Freds hospital room & used Snapes healing charms as a way to 'set things right' before leaving.

3. Percy is now in New York, gets a job, and then spends the next 6 months working diligently and whatnot. Then he meets Audrey Smith, they end up going on a few dates and she introduces Percy to her local gym and they become gym buddies and soon start dating. (Aug 2000) After 2 years together (They're married) Percy and Audrey find out they're expecting. And then the twins are born on the 2nd of May 2001. Percy laughs a bit as Audrey pats him the shoulder and says "They sure chose the date"

4. Sep 11 2001) Audrey dies in the 9/11 attack (she was a muggle) & Percy is left a widow with 2 daughters to look after. (June 2002) He bumps into Oliver who's on a quidditch training exchange. They catch up. (Oliver doesn't bring up the fact that Percy's fam has been looking for him for years and that he's saved so many lives) As December rolls around Oliver spends it at Percy's, meeting the kids and hearing Percy tell him everything (His wife, his family and the war)

(I think this is part 5? Idk its 2am here) (Jan - May) They spend a lot of time together after Xmas and slowly Percy begins to heal a bit more after Audrey's death. Oliver ends up going back to the UK and Percy misses him. (July) Oliver comes back with news that he's transferred to an NY team "They might not be big on Quidditch here but they're extremely good, Perce" (Its not because Oliver has been inlove with Percy since Hogwarts. Neither is it because he loves Molly & Lucy to death either)

6 (Feb 2004) The UK Papers get a picture of Oliver, Percy the twins out and it BLOWS UP. Charlie (The only one who even heard Percy out back after the war ended, He knows the others did wrong by him) floos in and then warns Percy about everyone knowing he's here and that they're gonna be coming in 2 days. So He ends up having Charlie take the girls. He ends up meeting with his fam and it takes a long long time for them to heal and fix things.

7. His Fam only get to meet Molly and Lucy when they're 6. When they're 7 he and Oliver gets married. Idk why but i seem to only send you these fic ideas when im hella tired and at 2am. T_T Why am i like this? So Audrey named Molly and Perce named Lucy (After each others moms)

Honestly, What can I say at this point? You have the whole story thought out. Go for it and write it!

It’s not the kind of story I write, though. But since you dropped the materials here, I can share how I would assemble it.

I would avoid New York. Big cities have a character. They are characters and you have to treat them as such. In Life skills, London is a character, complex and big and hard and beautiful. In Secret language of plants, even though Draco and Harry end up in London, I had them stay in the house because London was too big of a character for that stage of the story.

So, no New York. If I had to use a well-known city I would go with Boston, I think. Otherwise, a small one with a nice name.

Audrey doesn’t die on 9/11. Well, she dies on that day, but not on the attack. It’s something as simple and dull as a traffic accident. Percy wasn’t with her, not that it would have mattered. Yes, wizards have potions to mend bones instantly and protective charms and spells to stop the momentum, but Audrey died instantly, and no one could have seen the car until it was on her.

The driver was an old man, fumbling with that new invention, a mobile phone, trying to call his daughter who worked in New York.

Magic Law on the States is a bit… over the place. It would be extremely simple to put a curse or a hex that man. If Percy was clever about it, it wouldn’t be too illegal. But he doesn’t. Percy realizes it wouldn’t make him feel better.

Percy doesn’t particularly like the States. The tea is terrible, the coffee is weak, the spelling is painful and people are entirely too talkative. But it’s sunnier than England and the orange juice is good, so he stays.

He goes to Romania every summer to visit Charlie. The girls love it there and it was always easy to talk to Charlie. Charlie who had such a promising career in Quidditch and rejected the fame and fortune for a thankless career working with dragons. Not even training dragons for bank security, which is a cool and profitable career, but fighting that very same use.

Charlie only goes back home for a week during Christmas, so he gets it. They don’t have to talk about it, never mention that weird state of loving your family and not wanting to be with them, to fight, to have to explain and justify your very existence and your life decisions.

He meets Oliver in Romania. Supposedly Oliver is there to see the sights and rest his left shoulder, that was injured at the end of the league. But he is not the first Quidditch player who has a crisis of faith and comes to Charlie with questions. So far, none of them had taken up dragon-protection, but one became a broomstick racer and another is the head coach of an Italian team.

Charlie only thinks about dragons. Oliver only thinks about Quidditch and is in the middle of an existential crisis. So it’s perfectible understandable that the topic of Percy, his war heroics and his semi mythical status is never brought up. To be fair, Charlie doesn’t know much about it because he doesn’t read English newspapers and his family never talks about Percy when he is around. Oliver just thinks that Percy is the first Competent Adult he has ever met and is much more interested about this Figuring Life Out than any hero status.

So it’s fair to say that the headlines come as a surprise.

Someone snapped a picture of Oliver and Percy sitting very close together in a park, with twin stupid loving smiles. It was all perfectly innocent. Molly was doing something cute out of frame and they never kept any physical distance between themselves, not even in Hogwarts. But it doesn’t matter. The picture is sold as proof of the mysterious war hero and the dashing sport star carrying a secret love affair. It’s a beautiful story, powerful. Percy is the tragic handsome hero and Oliver the right person to bring love back in his life after years nursing the wounds of war. Or perhaps Oliver is the sweet and honest good boy, the boyfriend every mother wants for her daughter, seduced by the man living a life of exotic and daring adventures.

Whatever it is, the world wants to believe in it. So much so that bloody Draco Malfoy pops up to warn them that there is a dozen of rabid, ruthless, paparazzies coming their way. He knows because Malfoy owns the most read magazine in England and has put a bounty on a photo of the two of them kissing.

Paparazzies don’t have a concept of trespassing, but breaking and entering into a dragon reserve has certain difficulties that can’t be bypassed with an alohomora and a lack of morals. Percy and Oliver spend the rest of the month in the reserve, not daring to go out. Twenty-two days in each other’s company, hiking in the mountains and playing with the girls. Molly and Lucy have decided that Oliver is similar to Charlie in all the right ways, so they like him.

On day nineteen, they kiss. Someone gets a picture of it, but, in his excitement, the photographer wanders into a nest of young dragon carps. He is recued three hours later sans pants or shoes. The photo of their first kiss is lost.

Oliver says he is almost done with his existential crisis but now Percy has one of his own.

You see, there is something Oliver hasn’t said. Something he didn’t mention at all. And Percy doesn’t know if Oliver just hasn’t noticed (it took him two years to realize all the Weasleys were siblings) or if he noticed but… doesn’t care?

There is more than one reason why only Charlie has met the girls.

Even now that Percy has received letters from every family member (including Freaking Aunt Muriel) and even a surprise visit from them (he has a life debt with Charlie for the heads-up) and they have begun the unpleasant work of fixing their relationship; even now, they haven’t met Molly and Lucy.

It’s because of the Weasley cousin they never talk about. The accountant.

Percy knows that it’s perfectly normal. Many wizarding children don’t exhibit any magic until they are at least seven. But he also knows that every single person in his family was levitating toys (Bill, Ron and Ginny) or stopping spilled milk in mid-air (him) or shooting sparks (Charlie and the twins) by the time they were three.

Molly and Lucy had done nothing magical so far. Nothing at all. And Percy knows, in his heart of hearts, that if anyone makes them feel inferior, if anyone dares to say anything against them, he will go the Dark Lord route and kill every single person prejudiced against squibs. He might kill every single wizard and witch and eradicate all magic, so his girls won’t feel inferior to anyone. He found in himself the strength to forgive the man than took Audrey’s life, but he won’t do the same for the person who speaks against his children. He can’t.

On Christmas Percy reluctantly agrees to go to England with the girls because Charlie promises he will be there too. It is not easy. It is, in fact, very, very difficult and tense. He is forever grateful at Lee Jordan, who is glued to Fred’s hip cracking jokes and defusing tension. Also, Angelina Johnson takes George and Ginny to the kitchen and informs them they are the biggest idiots she has ever had the misfortune of meeting and that helps to avoid anyone saying something unforgivable they will regret their whole life. On Christmas’ Eve Harry Potter takes everyone’s wands because he is Harry Potter “and I do what I want” which means no one hexes anyone and they can overindulge the punch.

Oh, why bother? The whole thing is terrible and awkward and it hurts. But it is a necessary painful step, either to fix things with time or to say that he tried, actually tried, and never look back at this moment with regret.

Also, he gets to meet with Oliver. It turns out that Oliver hadn’t noticed the girls’ lack of magic, but he also doesn’t care. Why would he care? Are you- are you supposed to care? Is this another thing Oliver missed because he only thinks about Quidditch? What’s wrong with not having magic in any case? Oliver’s mother is muggle and it is agreed that she is wonderful.

(Even Potter says so. Percy has no idea of when Harry Potter met Oliver’s mum, but he speaks of her in the highest terms).

You can read about what happened next on issues of 32, 33 & 34 of Alakazam as well as special issues 17, 21, 22 and 25. Draco Malfoy earns 1.5 million galleons with issue 33, setting a record for most successful print in wizarding history. Then he obliterates that record with a single stolen picture of Percy and Oliver’s wedding. He committed around a dozen crimes to get that picture, got drunk on champagne and victory and asked Harry Potter to marry him.

(He also donated all the money to a newly created society for the support and trade education of squibs, but only two people in the world know that).

#asks #percy weasley #oliver wood #Anonymous #vese: dad percy

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98prilla · 4 years

Text

Birthday

AO3

The next little part of my Darkside Logan series! Enjoy!

...

He wakes to a wild screech, glitter and party popper streamers raining from the ceiling, an incredibly loud noise maker going off, fireworks exploding against the ceiling, in pops of deep indigo and silver sparks. He raises an eyebrow as he sits up, stretching, lips twitching into a smile at Remus whooping and cartwheeling around his room, finally coming to a stop in front of him, clapping his hands and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Good morning to you as well, Remus. That was quite an impressive show.” He says evenly, the last of the glitter settling on the ground around him. “I do hope you’ll clean that up later, otherwise it’ll get everywhere.” He yelps as Remus pulls him to his feet and into a waltz, disembodied music drifting through the room, laughing as Remus spins him quicker than his mind can process, dipping him low to the ground. Then Remus swears, and he feels the balance shift, and they’re both on the floor, Remus landing atop him in a tangle of limbs, both of them erupting into startled laughter.

“Not that you need a reason, but this seems like extra effort, even for you. What’s the occasion?” He asks, once they both get their laughter under control, untangling from each other as Remus helps him back to his feet, grin wide and wild, practically vibrating with energy.

“Cygie! You really don’t know!?” Remus exclaims, linking arms with Cygnus as they leave his room, slowly walking down the hall to their kitchen.

“Hmm… nothing comes to mind?” Remus squeals, pulling him faster towards the dark commons, Cygnus’s breath leaving him in a rush as he takes in the state of the room.

It’s decorated with indigo and silver streamers draped in intricate knots across the ceiling. There’s an archway made of black and blue balloons over the entry way to the kitchen, sparkling silver stars dotting the walls, glittering tape tracing constellations in them. And across the wall, above the couch, is a hand made, hand painted, beautifully caligrohpied sign.

“Happy birthday, Cygnus.” Janus says, echoing the sign, emerging from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel, watching him appraisingly.

He can’t seem to find his words.

“Cyg?” Remus asks softly, coming around his front, taking both of his hands, and he realizes his eyes are watering, on the verge of tears. “Oh shit, did we fuck up? I’m sorry, was it the glitter? Was it the penis I hid in the happy bday sign?”

“WHAT?!” Janus squawks indignantly at that, and Logan lets out a laugh, shaking his head, because he loves these two, so much, and he’s trying to regain his composure enough to explain.

“No, I… it’s wonderful. I just… I’ve never celebrated, my birthday before. I never… kept track, with them. I… it’s been a year, already?” He asks, looking between Remus and Janus, who are sharing slightly horrified and slightly concerned looks.

“You never… they never did anything for you? Not even Patton?” Remus asks, his voice so high it’s nearly at a pitch only dolphins can hear. He shakes his head, looking away.

“There were more important things to attend to. I didn’t want to distract everyone. No one… remembered, anyway, so I just… stopped, keeping track.” He explains, not protesting as Remus pulls him into a tight hug.

“Well. Your happiness and self worth are very much more important than having a productive day. If Roman gets a full week of birthday shenanigans, the least they could have done was give you a day, sweetling.” Janus adds softly, joining the hug for a brief moment, before pulling back, wiping away Cygnus’s tears, a soft smile on his face. “you deserve it, Cygnus. You work so hard, darling. You deserve to be pampered and fawned over for at least a day.”

“Every day must be my birthday then.” He answers, smiling at Janus’s soft laugh, who ruffles his hair as he passes by.

“Oh, you haven’t seen nothin yet, my starry night! Today is going to be a nonstop orgy of Cygnus appreciation! To Breakfast!” Remus screeches, sprinting into the kitchen, from which loud crashing emerges a moment later, along with a muffled “I’m okay!” That has Janus shaking his head with an exasperated smile as he follows Remus into the kitchen, ready to manage whatever mess he’d made.

…

A year.

It has been a year. One whole year. Three hundred and sixty five days. Five hundred, twenty five thousand, six hundred minutes. Thirty one million, five hundred thirty six thousand seconds.

It hasn’t felt like that long. Or maybe it has felt longer, with all the changes taking place in the mindscape. He’s not really sure, but it sure is giving him a bit of a strange sense of vertigo, right now.

It’s almost impossible, to compare where he is now to where he was a year ago, two years ago. He’s… happy. He’s so much happier than he’s ever been before, he feels appreciated, he feels loved, he feels listened to. He’s not working himself to near death every single day without giving himself any breaks. He’s not pretending to be a machine, not denying his emotions anymore. He’s smiling, he’s laughing, he’s crying, he’s… learning, how to express himself, to understand his emotions, and always, always, Remus and Janus were patient and considerate and there for him.

His relationships with the others are also probably better than they have ever been before. He was right, when he told Patton so long ago that they would do better as friends than as family. That the distance would be good for them.

Everyone is making progress, in leaps and bounds, in acknowledging their own faults, in realizing their own shortcomings, in accepting their flaws and reaching out for help. It helps, he supposes, that there are now two sides who can, in a way, sense lies. Neither him nor Janus will let the others get away with denying their needs or wants, not when it’s important, anyways, and slowly, everyone is getting into the habit of simply… not hiding.

Patton is open, about his bad days. The days he calls ‘gray days’, where the world doesn’t seem to shine, where nothing feels right or good, and he can’t see a point to getting out of bed. He’s devised several signals, clear markers with everyone that show a day is gray, so he doesn’t have to say it, to speak it out loud, because even that is too hard, somedays, it’s easier to just leave a frowny face sticker on his door, and the first one to see it tells everyone else, who take turns spending time with him, coaxing him into activities, or at least out of bed, slowly driving the apathy away.

Roman is still trying to find himself. To rebuild himself, from the crushing defeat and existential crisis of the wedding, and everything it resulted in. He still struggles to admit when he’s struggling, still finds it hard to portray anything other than the happy, peppy persona, but he doesn’t pull back, run, anymore, when someone calls him out. If someone asks how he’s feeling, how he’s doing, Roman won’t paste on a smile and chirp out an answer. He’ll let his mask fall, and answer honestly. It’s too hard, yet, to bring it up himself, so the others are learning to ask, making sure to ask, making sure to not simply brush Roman’s worries or frustrations aside. He’s happier, too, Cygnus knows, the time spent writing with Thomas has him happier than he’s been in years, and more and more days the answer to how he’s feeling is on the okay side of the scale.

Virgil… has stayed much the same, outwardly. But he spends more time, now, with Remus and Janus, and… himself. They’ve talked, quite a lot, actually. He explained his history with the other two dark sides, why he acted how he had towards them, had explained too about his old, unhealthy, habits, how he still struggles, every once in a while, though he hasn’t given in and done it in years. He’d hugged Virgil then, it was maybe the bravest thing the anxious side had ever done, telling him that, telling him everything, apologizing for how he’d reacted, the first time he had appeared to all of them, as Ambition. He’d found it impossible, not to forgive him. Overall, he’d handled it the best out of any of them.

And Thomas.

He’s so proud of Thomas. He’s taken everything in stride. He’s making time for himself, making time to spend individually with every side.

He’s writing with Roman, and also with Remus, working with him to express his horrifying ideas in darkly comedic ways, countering Roman’s fairy tale quests and happy endings.

He’s watching movies with Virgil, or swapping music with him, listening to him spout off about his favorite bands, favorite lyrics. They’ve broken out the karaoke machine a couple times, singing at the top of their lungs, dancing like fools around the living room until they’re breathless from laughing. Virgil’s smile is becoming a more and more common sight.

He’s crafting with Patton, the fatherly side teaching him how to knit and crochet, which Patton is an expert at, fawning over every one of Thomas’s haphazard attempts at a scarf or pot holder. While their hands are busy, they talk, about anything and everything. They’re even attempting to learn how to cook together, though that often ends with the smoke alarm going off. They’re not allowed to cook unsupervised anymore, usually Virgil or Janus keeping things from getting too out of hand from the living room couch.

He’s playing video games with Janus, who loves to pick out the strange, indie games, the ones with ambiguous story lines, twist endings, choices that affect the game, affect the people in it. They discuss undertale for hours, Janus going on an hour long monolague of Flowey’s morality, his take on how much influence Asriel actually has on Flowy, when he’s soulless, surprised that Thomas pays attention the whole time, just as into the game as he is. They play A Way Out together, and Thomas actually throws the controller at the plot twist, shock on his face, as he’s forced to battle Janus, who is laughing the whole time at his indignant spluttering and shocked expression, Janus absolutely annihilating him.

And himself. Thomas hadn’t been lying, when he said nothing changed, between the two of them, just because he is now Ambition. Thomas hasn’t shied away from him, hasn’t excluded him. He’s made time for him, as well. He’d bought a telescope, and set it up in the backyard. They go stargazing together, Cygnus pointing out the planets, when visible, the constellations, passing comets, relaying their history and myths, Thomas asking questions at every turn, until their conversation was somewhere else entirely, talking about anything and everything. They’d also started a bit of a book club, as Thomas called it, though it was really just the two of them. Each month they took turns giving the other a book to read, and then they’d discuss it. He usually sticks to the classics, the three muskateers, moby dick, the jungle book, and he was a bit surprised at how fast Thomas took to them, how much he enjoyed them, enjoyed discussing them. Thomas’s choices surprise him sometimes, too. It’s not always another adventure novel, sometimes it’s the original book of Wicked, or a nonfiction book about the history of cartoon animation, he varies more than Cygnus would have guessed, and he’s surprised at how… entertained, he is, by Thomas’s choices, the ones he would never have picked to read himself.

But most importantly, most incredibly, were the others. Patton, Roman, Logan, Virgil. They had all, individually, apologized, for the way they had treated him, talked over him, ignored him, silenced him. And they were proving they meant it. Every day, they were proving they meant those apologies. They were listening to him. Listening to each other. Everyone has an equal voice, now, and everything feels… good.

So why, does it having been a year, make him feel so… strange? It’s not sadness, not even nostalgia, really, it’s… something melancholy. Something a bit happy, something a bit sad, something a bit wistful.

“Cygnus? Are you alright?” He blinks away his thoughts, realizing he’s been staring at his plate of pancakes for a solid five minutes without taking a bite. They look delicious, topped with sugared berries and warm syrup.

“Just… lost in thought. These are from your garden, correct? Hopefully the non venomous section.” He answers, looking up at Remus, who’s shoveling pancakes topped with caramel and rainbow sprinkles into his mouth, who swallows hugely, nodding.

“Yuppers! And I did pick the ones that won’t kill you, just for your b-day, cygie! At least, they should be mostly non toxic. Let me know if your tongue starts tingling.” Remus answers, and Cygnus chuckles, cutting into his pancakes.

“I will take that into account.”

…

He doesn’t know what he’s doing, when he wanders up the stairs, towards the light side living room. He doesn’t even intend to go there, really, it’s just… where he’s drawn.

“Ambition. We, uh, didn’t expect you, so early.” Roman says, peeking out of the living room, moving to lean against the doorframe, blocking his view of it before he could see anything.

“Roman. You are acting… strange?”

“Me? Wha? No, I’m being perfectly normal! Because you, Ambition, is here!” He sputters, saying the last sentence far too loud to be normal. He’s about to reply, when Patton’s head appears, shooing Roman out of the way.

“You, go finish the… the project! Ok, Roman?” Roman nods, scurrying back into the living room, Patton taking his place blocking the doorway.

“Is everything alright, Patton?” He asks, slightly amused, and only mildly concerned at a distant curse from Virgil.

“Uh huh! Just finishing up something! What brings you here, Ambition? Not that it isn’t good to see you, and you’re of course welcome here all the time, but why on this particular day at this particular moment have you chosen to come visit?” Patton squeaks, his tone rising in pitch until it was nearly above human hearing.

“Are you alright, Patton?” He asks, trying to gauge what exactly has everyone so on edge.

“Yup! Just waiting for the ok!”

“The okay for what?”

“We’re ready!” Roman calls, and Patton steps aside.

“The ok for this.” Patton says softly, stepping aside and ushering him into the living room. For the second time this day, all the air escapes his lungs, and his hands cover his mouth to stifle whatever noise is trying to escape, he can’t tell if it’s a sob or a laugh or something in between.

The room is decorated with glow in the dark stars, blue and white flowers climb the walls on deep green vines, blooming from the cracks in the plaster, filling the room with the sweet smell of summer. On the table sits a cake, carefully air blown a blue ombre, constellations carefully traced across it in silver gilding, it must have taken hours. He can feel the tears slipping down his face, knows everyone is trying to figure out what to do.

“Ambition. Can I hug you?” Virgil asks, stepping into his field of view, and he nods, letting Virgil wrap his arms around him, surprising even himself as he hugs back, face buried in his shoulder. He feels Roman’s arms wrap around him from behind, Patton’s joining a moment later, surrounding him in warmth.

“you remembered. I… you’ve never…”

“We know. I know, Amby. And we’re so sorry.” Roman murmurs, pulling back.

“I know this doesn’t make up for that, for all those years… but we thought maybe, maybe this could be part of starting over. Of being better.” Patton adds, smiling through his own teary eyes as he pats Ambition’s shoulder, before pulling away as well, Ambition finally emerging from Virgil’s embrace, swiping at his eyes.

“Yes. I would… like that.” He mumbles, still a bit awestruck.

“Oh, let’s get Janus and Remus, for presents!” He frowns slightly at that, stepping back.

“Did they put you up to this?” He asks, voice trembling, and he hears Janus’s soft laugh from the doorway.

“No, sweetling. This was all them. We didn’t tell them a thing.” Janus murmurs, appearing with a swish of his cape, Remus thundering up the stairs behind him.

“Nice digs! Not nearly as sweet as our decorations of course, but you tried!” Roman splutters indignantly at that, squaring off against his twin.

“Please! I bet I could plan a party better than you, any day!”

“Maybe if it was for babies. Can you even make a cocktail?”

“Of course! I know how to mix drinks, Remus.” Remus grinned, eyes swirling.

“I was thinking more of an entrée.” He replies with a smirk and shoulder shimmy.

“Remus.” Janus says, exasperated, glancing at Patton.

“It’s alright. He’s just excited! I’m sure you’d throw very interesting parties, Remus. If… if you promise not to make it too scary, maybe you and Virgil could team up for a Halloween one.” Patton suggests, laughing as Remus squeals, launching himself into Virgil's arms, who catches him instinctually in a Scooby-Doo like hold, before dropping him like a hot potato.

“What the heck, dude!?”

“Can we? It’ll be like old times, you and me, creating horrors and monsters and creeping lurking things? Pleaaaaase?” Virgil snorts as Remus bats his eyelids at him, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” He mutters in agreement, trying to contain his own grin as Remus whoops, spinning him around in a circle, already babbling about ideas. It’s good, to see them laughing together.

“I believe someone said something about presents?” Janus drawls, resting a hand on Cygnus’s back, gently leading him to sit down on the couch. Instantly, everyone else crowds around, clamoring over who gets to go first, and he’s crying again, because not only are they giving him attention, they’re fighting for his attention, and he supposes he should feel guilty about liking it, but Janus has rubbed off on him, a bit, so he just smiles, instead.

Before anyone else can, Roman shoves a box into his hands, grinning at having gotten in ‘the first gift’, everyone settling as he stares at the shimmery blue wrapping paper. Tentatively, he peels back the paper, removing the cardboard top of the small box, eyes widening.

It’s a large, blue star sapphire, embedded in a silver filigree, hanging from a silver chain. He lifts it, slightly awestruck, turning it over as his thumb feels grooves against the back, tilting his head to decipher the writing, discovering it’s his name, Ambition, in circular galifreyan.

“Did I get the spelling right? I looked up several guides, but there’s a lot of rules and such.” Roman asks, no doubt nervous at his silence.

“It’s… it’s perfect, Roman. Thank you.” He says softly, slipping the chain over his head, the pendant resting just above his heart. He looks up in time to see Roman’s blush, his expression so tenderly soft, looking at him, that he clears his throat and looks away.

“Me next! Ours are a set!” Remus interrupts, shoving another box into his hands, slightly larger than the previous one, though much the same weight. “Ro had the idea, and we coordinated our results!” He chirps, as Cygnus pulls open the box, a soft grin already on his face.

It’s a silver circlet, with a teardrop blue diamond that will sit in the center of his forehead, and engraved along the inside of the circlet is more galifreyan, this time that reads ‘cygnus’. The band is thin and light, but sturdy, and he knows the engraving must have taken a long time, to do by hand, requiring a lot of patience and focus.

“It’s wonderful.” He murmurs, slipping it onto his head, finding the weight odd, but rather comforting. His past self would have scoffed, at these items, said he didn’t desire to play pretend, to play dress up, and what was the point of them? But he knows better, now, has more confidence in himself and expressing himself, now, and he knows he’ll rarely be seen without them on, he loves them already.

“Wow, ok, well, way to make a side feel wholly inadequate. Um, here, I guess.” Virgil mumbles nervously, depositing a tissue paper wrapped item in his lap. “It’s not much, compared to, that, but-“ Virgil cuts himself off with a shrug, toeing the floor nervously as he unwraps the paper.

It’s a photo. He’s in the kitchen, head thrown back, laughing. Remus is a blur of green movement in the background, chasing a blur of red, a pot is boiling over on the stove, Patton frantically stirring it, trying to scold the twins from over his shoulder, and somehow Janus is hissing from atop the fridge, clearly having climbed up there to escape the shenanigans below. He smiles, running his thumb over the frame, touched that Virgil had thought to capture that moment, one of the first moments of happiness since everything had happened, one of the first times they’d all been together, and all let themselves go.

“I love it, Virg. I… thank you.” He murmurs, low and sincere, and a small smile creeps across Virgil’s face as he nods, tension leaking out of his shoulders.

Janus is next, his simple, a book Cygnus has been meaning to read for ages, but he knows it’s really an invitation for a debate, or perhaps to set up a lecture in the mindscape theater, an open invitation for a day spent ranting and raving and arguing and debating, until they’re both too tired to continue, losing their thoughts mid sentence, trying to string together coherent points at three am. He sets it aside with a small nod and smile, all Janus needs, to know he’s understood, and appreciates it.

Patton is last, but not least, not in the slightest, as he sits down on the couch beside him, nervously running his hand up and down the couch.

“Mine’s a bit… a bit of a group project, I suppose.” He says, handing the package to Cygnus. It’s bigger than the others, with a bit more weight to it, as well, a card taped atop the paper wrapped package. The front has a rough drawing, of all of them together, holding hands. Inside it says ‘Ambition. You’ll always be a part of my heart. Happy birthday, kiddo. Love you.’ With doodles of butterflies and stars and planets.

He's already smiling warmly at that, as he carefully sets it aside, opening the package to find a large book. On the cover is space for a photo to be inserted, and he recognizes it immediately, it’s a selfie Thomas took with all of them. The cover is patterned in silver constellations, the background a deep blue, and curiously, he flips it open, finding the cover is signed by Patton, Virgil, and Roman, who have all written short notes to him, expressing their support, their love, their pride, in who he is becoming, in his own self. His hand is shaky as he turns the page, finding it decorated with stickers and intricate doodles outlining the edges of the pages, the edges of the photographs, each of the three of them recounting what was going on in each picture, leaving their own commentary, witty and sarcastic and heartfelt, on each photo of him smiling, them as a group, him stargazing with Thomas, Him and Janus in the debate room, eyes flashing as they argue, him on stage, wearing safety goggles, Remus helping him with an experiment, him and Patton, decorating cookies, Roman dragging him through the imagination, to search for dragons, a thousand memories and moments and smiles, genuine smiles, all put in one place, all outlined with drawings, all filled in with their words and laughter and remembrances, and he’s shaking, again, a hand over his mouth as he puts the book aside, not wanting tears to stain the pictures, to smear the ink, he wants it to stay perfect and pristine forever, he hadn’t realized they were taking pictures, hadn’t realized they’d cared to memorialize his happiness, hadn’t realized that those moments meant just as much to them as they did to him. Hadn’t realized how much they meant it, when they said they truly, deeply, cared.

“Oh, kiddo. Can I?” Patton asks, arms open, and he nods, letting Patton sweep him up into a hug, letting himself squeeze back, breath hitching. “I love you so much, Ambition, and I’m so… I’m so proud of you. I’m so proud of all you’ve done, and how far you’ve come, and much you pushed all of us to be better, you’re so good, Amby, you’ve always been the best of us. And I’m just… I’m so glad, to see you so happy, kiddo. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, for any of you, is to be happy. You’re a part of this family, kiddo, and we love you, we all love you, so, so much.” Patton murmurs, as he feels others joining the hug, surrounding him in warmth and arms and soft assurances from all sides, overwhelming him, with their support, their love, their affection. It’s everything, this is everything he’d ever hoped for, been too afraid to ask for, been denied, as Logan.

But this… they’d done this. All by themselves, they’d done this, they’d remembered, they’d gone out of their way, to do this for him, they’ve been doing it for the entire year, every day, and he realizes, suddenly, that he’s started trusting them again. That he wants this to truly be a new start, this, today, here, is the last bit of proof that he needed, to show him they mean it, they mean their words and promises about doing better, they mean their I love you’s and affection, they put weight behind their words, and followed through, and he thinks maybe it’s time he does the same.

So despite himself, he pulls away from the hug, smiling at the mild cursing that comes with the twins trying to disentangle themselves from around him, taking a moment to wipe away the tears from his eyes, to take a deep breath, to compose himself. His heart is pounding, irrational fear biting at his heels, and he thinks Janus understands, the leap of faith he is about to take, can sense what he is about to do, and he slips his hand into his to steady him.

“I… have something, I would like to say.” He says, softly, voice a bit tremulous, but the others all give him encouraging nods, and once again, he’s shocked at the difference between now and then, everyone staying silent, giving him space to speak, willing to listen. “I know this hasn’t been easy. I know… I know it hurt, in a lot of different ways, everything… everything that’s happened. But instead of pulling further away, this pulled all of us closer together, and I’m… I’m proud, of everyone, for it. You’ve all grown, so much, and I just… just thank you. Thank you for meaning it, when you said you would work harder, listen more, be better. Thank you for doing it, for showing it, for giving me, for giving each other, the room to grow. The support that was necessary, for that growth to happen.” He pauses, taking in a deep breath, feeling everyone’s eyes on him.

He realizes suddenly he’d never gotten a proper name reveal before. Before, when they all chose names, he just picked the easiest one to remember, he hadn’t seen a point, to personalizing it. And Patton had called him Logan in front of Thomas, thus accidentally stealing that moment from him, that choice, to share it or not. He’s never had to worry, about a reaction, about the weight of it, about the consequences. Then Janus squeezes his hand, and he exhales, looking up at each of them for a long moment, seeing the question, the hesitation, the dawning understanding where this is going, in Virgil’s eyes.

“So I think… I think it’s time we start over, properly. No more hiding. No more secrets. No more… titles. My name… my name is Cygnus Ambition Sanders.” He’s barely finished the sentence, when Patton is barreling into him once again, wrapping him in a tight hug, tears falling though he’s grinning hugely as he pulls away, eyes shining behind his glasses.

“Thank you. Cygnus, thank you.” Patton says softly, practically bouncing in excitement, the air radiating with his joy and delight and heart stopping love.

“It suits you, teach.” Virgil says simply, though he wears one of his rare, open, lopsided grins, eyes warm and soft as he looks at him, somehow warming his heart more, because he knows Virgil understands, what it means, how much it means, that he’s shared his name. Virgil has been there, in much the same position he himself is now in, and he relaxes slightly at his approval.

“Cygnus.” Roman murmurs, seemingly a bit dazed by the revelation, though the name sounds like music on his lips, making Cygnus’s ears burn red, as Roman sweeps him up, spinning and dipping him, a mirror of Remus this morning, god was it only this morning? And he remembers once more just how similar the twins are, though they’re both loathe to admit it. He laughs as Roman sets him upright once more, pressing close in a moment long hug, steady and firm and grounding. “thank you, Cygnus. You’re so brave, and we’re so, so lucky, to have you with us.” He murmurs, before stepping away. “See Remus! That’s how you do a dip!” He yells at his brother, who’s grinning ear to ear, laughing.

“But it’s so much more fun to drop them!” Still, Remus sweeps him into a hug as well before skipping off, trying to steal frosting off the cake, if Virgil’s indignant screech and subsequent pounding of footsteps chasing is anything to go by.

Janus pulls him close, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head before leaning forwards until their foreheads touch, resting against each other, his hand stroking back a stray piece of hair, lingering against his cheek in a pleasant warmth.

“Proud of you, lovely. You’ve done so well, Cygnus, you really have.” He smiles, not pulling away.

“You know this doesn’t change anything, correct? I’m not moving back. I’m not leaving you and Remus. I will never.” He murmurs back, a promise, ringing with truth, and he feels some of the tension washing out of Janus.

“Of course. Now, let’s cut into that cake before Remus decides to shove the entire thing into his gaping maw.” He laughs, stepping back, letting Janus lead them back into the fray the party has become, smiling at the single candle atop the cake, Patton struggling with the lighter, before Virgil gently pries it away, lighting the candle in one go, despite muttering about it being a fire hazard and the whole house going up in flames, Janus wrangling the twins out of their chase to sing happy birthday, both of them trying to outdo each other with riffs, though they finally do actually finish the song together, harmonizing the last few lines.

Staring at the lit candle, at the joyful, expectant faces around him, Cygnus realizes he only has one single wish, as he blows out the candle.

That every day, could be this perfect.

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potatopossums · 3 years

Text

A Journal Entry About My Day So Far, I Guess

tw: period & pms mention, questioning aro, childhood emotional trauma mention, allosexual aro-spec, sexual shame, self-hatred

I hate my period.

And I also really hate saying that, mainly because I know how damaging hating things about myself and my body can be for me.

But the physical side effects of my period make existing so hard.

I have a headache today, despite having such a good night's rest. I've been struggling to keep anxiety at bay for most of the morning and afternoon. It's really hot and sunny outside right now, which combined work to overwhelm my senses and make my headache worse. To combat the heat, the only thing I can do is open the windows, but there's construction going on nearby, and they are so loud. And that contributes to the overstimulation of my senses. So it's like, picking the lesser of the three evils.

And I have work at 3 today, so all this beforehand has just been... awful.

I have ADHD and that plus period equals "omg please no." Like, there is no relaxation on Adderall. If I'm not doing something, my anxiety just goes wild, as if I'm behind. Even though Adderall definitely helps me when I'm at work, it's really hard to have a relaxing lazy day.

And even now, I'm trying to not have an existential crisis. Fuck anxiety.

Combined, all of that in one morning is just plain exhausting.

I've started a new birth control solely for the purpose of period control. Unfortunately, I won't start to see the full results of the change for a few months, so for now, I'm stuck with all this. But at least that is something to look forward to.

God, it's hard right now, though.

Change of subject, but maybe I'm giving into my existential crisis anxiety-brain:

Plenty of people, aromantic or not, struggle with loneliness. It's just part of our brains, it's a survival mechanism.

That said, I've seen a lot of aromantic communities not really relate to this idea? I mean, sure, there are plenty of ways to be aromantic, and feeling lonely doesn't invalidate your orientation. But it's still a little discouraging to see all the time.

Plus, I go back and forth between feeling secure and feeling insecure about my identity. It's been really hard for me to feel like I can settle into a label in that area. At best, how I relate to people romantically tends to fluctuate. I might like the idea of romance when there's no subject involved, and then I won't like the idea of romance with a specific person, even if I really like them and want their approval and attention. Similarly, I might not want anything to do with romance at all, with anyone at all, but mention That One Person who I have a super unrealistic, unattainable sexual crush on? Suddenly I'm having feelings that I would relate to romantic feelings, even though they're also not quite. They're like a mixture of genuine friendship/intimacy/affection plus sex. And that's an ideal situation to me (with That One Person, of course). But the similarity to romance, plus the sheer unattainability of this whole crush, has really made me feel invalid and discouraged. And lonely.

Part of me really wonders how much of my struggles can also be attributed to past/childhood relational trauma. I just experienced a lot of emotional loneliness and moral & sexual ostracization by trusted adults in my life very early on. Pair that with undiagnosed anxiety and ADHD (and possibly more), and you have a really horrible combination. Even now I find it so hard to trust people, openly express sexual attraction or desire, and create relationships wherein I feel generally safe. I'm just afraid of ostracization from everywhere, from anyone, and especially from people I trust.

It kind of makes me hate my family.

But that's another story.

It's just really hard to move past all that. It's hard to even try. Anxiety makes me believe that I really am disgusting and wrong, and it makes me believe everyone will come to that conclusion. So, I don't ask for what I need, and if I get even the slightest hint that someone could react that way, I get scared of rejection, even from people who I know are trustworthy and kind. Even rejection over non-personal, simple, low-tier things give me a similar reaction. And I honestly hate that about myself. But hating that part of myself doesn't really make it go away.

This post doesn't have a great conclusion. I don't have an answer for these problems, even though I wish I did. I have work in an hour, and I have to shower if I want to feel less gross. God, I hope this headache goes away.

But if you relate to any of this, know you're not alone.

#aromantic #aro spec #aroflux #nonbinary #lesbian #gay #queer #gynephile #adhd #tw childhood trauma mention #questioning #struggle #bad day #pms #period #tw period mention #allosexual #tw menstruation

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callonpeevesie · 4 years

Text

Toy story 4: the thing about unlearning and relearning

TS4 took the franchise a huge leap forward and the ending was, for lack of a better word, bold. Pulling that off isn’t easy, so of course it has some flaws.

But there’s something I really appreciate about it and that’s what I want to talk about. In the beginning, I was in denial about the ending. I was convinced it didn’t tie up with Woody’s character arc but at the same time I loved the movie, so I wasn’t sure what to think of it. Until one fine morning, when my father sent me this quote: ‘Never be afraid to let go of what you think you know. You might just learn something new.’ And then it hit me.

Woody had always been so loyal to Andy because he had always been a favourite toy. That’s why he could so easily say that a toy’s duty was to be with their kid - he had always had it easy. (Other than the time after Buzz arrived - but that was just a stupid rivalry because Andy was excited about Buzz.) When you think of it like that, how he would react to the situation if he suddenly wasn’t so loved anymore, becomes a very relevant question.

Sometimes, our circumstances demand us to let go of long cherished beliefs and ideals, but more often than not, we are afraid to. It’s not easy to accept a situation where you have to let go of something you have stood by all your life, even if you learn something new. That’s exactly what happened with Woody.

It’s not easy for a toy who has been a kid’s favourite to handle it when they are not played with anymore. Take Jessie for example. She could have enjoyed herself, she could have taken life into her own hands like Bo did. But she did not. She chose to lay under the bed, because, I’m sure, she lost all feeling. She lost the will to live. (I feel there’s a fundamental difference between Jessie and Bo here. When Bo was stuck in that antique store, she didn’t know what to do with her life anymore. When Emily was growing up, Jessie didn’t know why she existed anymore.)

Woody experienced that for the first time when Andy grew up. But their situation was better than Jessie’s for two reasons - one, the toys were all together to support each other, two, I think it’s safe to say that Andy was better with toys than Emily was. While he stopped playing with the toys, I’m pretty sure he didn’t put them away until he was in his late teens or something. At that phase, Woody stood by his moral code of being loyal to Andy, even choosing it over his friends. And then, playtime with Bonnie happened. Woody found a purpose again, of being loyal to another kid, and as we all know, that adventure ended well, with Andy letting us know Woody was still his favourite. It seemed like the perfect ending for the franchise. But when you think about it, Woody’s story was still open to explore. What would happen when Bonnie grew up? What if, say, Bonnie didn’t love him and he had an existential crisis?

Cut to Toy Story 4. Woody is finally faced with the question - is loyalty to your kid the only option? The entire movie, he is in denial. He makes it his purpose in life to look after Bonnie however he can. But deep down, he knows he’s not really needed. He knows this kid isn’t Andy. He knows he probably has to unlearn what he’d thought he knew, but that’s terrifying, so he sticks to trying to validate his existence in Bonnie’s life.

The adventure with Bo is the last push he needs to face his struggle instead of denying it. Bo points out to him his own desperate loyalty (No, you need Bonnie!) and unconsciously gives him a taste of life as an independent toy and introduces a new purpose to him - an entirely new purpose this time.

Woody’s emotional journey must’ve been one hell of a rollercoaster throughout the quest to save Forky. By the end of it, he knows that the few hours with Bo were better than life with Bonnie, and he’s sad to go back. But he’s not about to abandon his kid, because he still hasn’t given up on his ideology of loyalty. That is until Buzz tells him Bonnie will be okay. It’s not just Buzz reassuring him that Bonnie would be alright; it’s Buzz saying 'Bonnie’s not your only choice. You can go live your own life, partner.’ That seals the deal for Woody. He wouldn’t have listened to himself if he told himself that, but he listens to Buzz, because he respects him so much.

And in that moment, Woody’s unlearning and relearning is complete. He lets go of what he thought he knew - that being loyal to their kid is a toy’s only duty. He learns something new instead - when a toy is not needed anymore, it’s okay for them to move on to a new life and purpose.

#pixar #Disney #toy story #toy story 4 #Woody #character analysis #whoa it's long #i hope i made sense #original content #peevesie writes #woody pride #meta

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kkaeyva · 3 years

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hi! could you do a romantic matchup for one of the genshin boys?

I’m 5’0, an INTJ 5w6 and my tritype is 538. im chaotic neutral. I’m a wallflower, I don’t enjoy parties or loud events but I like being in the presence of my friends. many people have never heard me talk before because I’m so quiet, but around my friends I’m the loudest in the group. Often I’ll sit with my friends and listen to them talk for hours without saying much of anything. I’m extremely nosy and hate to not know what’s going on around me. i never mind my own business. I’m always the last one up at night and the first one awake in the morning because sleep doesn’t come easy for me >:( I’m a maladaptive daydreamer and I get hyper fixated easily and teach myself things for fun. my hobbies include longing for the picturesque without actually doing anything, having existential crisis about what’s in space, staring at my ceiling and maladaptive daydreaming 14 hours a day. i also draw.. Definitely a cat person, dogs make me nervous.

People say I’m the “mom of the group” because Im blunt and I’ll tell them how it is and give clear answers but at the same time they say I’m a bad influence because I like daring people to do stupid things I’d never do and then watching the fallout lol. (everyone says my friends are corrupting me but my friends know I’m secretly the one corrupting them))) I also suck at comforting people or being empathetic / sympathetic

I simp for the intelligent (but at first glance you might not realize it) characters with (sometimes) questionable moral compasses. my love language is acts of service. my friends doing things like helping with homework or cooking food for me is my favorite lol xx but I kind of have commitment issues. oops

ok lol that’s it !! ‼️

thanks for adding your tritype + alignment!

i match you up with...

kaeya!

— i saw you were an intj and let me tell you,, i jumped at the opportunity to find an entp character to match you up with!! — and that entp is kaeya <3 — in case you didn’t know, entp x intj is a very popular ship in the mbti community because although they do clash, it’s easy for them both to find a compromise with each other. it makes for a very intense relationship, i suppose? — kaeya doesn’t seem like someone who would like being in the centre of attention at loud events. the most he’d do is sit back and listen as people run their mouths (drunk words are sober thoughts, aren’t they?) — you and kaeya would definitely share a lot of gossip(?) with each other. after all, kaeya is a mysterious man with many secrets to hide or share. a whole encyclopedia of information, if you will. — maladaptive daydreaming is probably not the best hobby to have,, hope you’re ok! <3 — even still, kaeya finds your dreams interesting and frequently asks you to tell him about them. nevermind dreams, actually— all of your thoughts are interesting to kaeya. you’ll hear him say once or twice, “instead of thinking so much, why not focus on me, hm?” — kaeya definitely asks you multiple times a day to draw him, let’s be honest here — to be honest, analyzing kaeya’s character is really interesting because he really is an enigma. however, i don’t think he’s too empathetic either (entps aren’t exactly known for being empathetic/sympathetic towards others anyway,,) so i suppose the two of you could have some common ground there — kaeya really is the embodiment of “looks like a stupid villain but is actually a brilliant mastermind” if you think about it,,

#genshin impact matchup #matchup event #♡— 100 #user.unknown

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snowpeawritings · 4 years

Text

13. Marie

Philemon seems to enjoy seeing his Wild Cards live on with their lives…

insp.

Persona 4 Golden X FeMC!Reader

> . . .

05/01/SUN-Early morning | Shopping District, South

With a wallet packed full with money, you strolled through the shopping district. Even though it was slightly cloudy, the weather was pleasant as people still roamed about the district.

From beside you, Izanami looked at the list that she wrote down herself. “So we’re starting with your books...”

“I finished them all in one night.” You said to her, remembering how your knowledge improved despite your eye bags.

“Then we see new weapons in Daidara’s shop.”

"Chie and Yukiko need to catch up."

"And... You need ingredients to make the boxed lunches."

You sighed but you didn't oppose the Dojimas idea that you were making the boxed lunches. Nanako was too excited for the long weekend and even Dojima wanted to spend time with his daughter. Even if you hadn't known them for long, you wanted to try and get them to bond together soon. You had thought to follow Nanako's suggestion and go to Junes instead so you wouldn't cook but you feared that Dojima wouldn't like to listen to the catchy tune over and over again.

Seeing the bookstore, you walked towards it but stopped when you spotted a familiar girl walking outside. She held a book in her hands and by the look of her eyes, she seemed excited by it.

"Marie?" You said to her. She yelped at your call, fumbling over her book rather comically before hiding it behind her back. Her face was flushed deeply with red as she regarded you with a glare.

"Wh-What are you doing surprising me all of a sudden?!" She screeched, not caring about the bystanders watching. "S-Stupid! You're stupid! I hate you!"

You blinked at her outburst before looking down at her book. "I didn't know you know the concept of buying stuff."

One of her eyebrows raised up. "B-Buy? What the heck is that?"

Your eyes widened. "You mean you stole that book?!"

As if on cue, the owner of the bookstore knocked on his window, mouthing some unintelligible words and pointing at Marie's book. If it wasn't for the glass window, you were sure that everyone in the area would hear his cussing.

"How could you have no money when I pay to remember Personas from Margaret?" You questioned her, already fishing out your wallet.

"How should I know?!" She replied back, stepping behind Izanami as if she could stop the man.

Izanami shook her head. "Good grief..."

---

"Don't you have a curfew when you go back to the Velvet Room?" You asked her once you resolved the stolen book problem. Even though the poem book was fairly inexpensive, it already made a dent on your finances just for the books.

Marie's face huffed even more. "What do you take me for? A kid?! Just so you know, I'm not gonna help you when you go back inside that stuffy car!"

You shrugged. "You were the one who had no concept of monetary value."

She choked but she didn't refute back. The poem book that had been the center of trouble was back in her hands, unscathed and paid for. You wondered if she liked to read or write poems.

Beside you, Izanami seemed to have vocalized your thoughts. "Do you like poetry, Marie?"

She stiffened from your Persona's question but her red blush gave her answer away.

"Not much to do in the car unless I come in, huh?" You said to her, lips quirking into a smirk at the thought of the three people inside the limousine just waiting for you to come back. Come to think of it, they had a bunch of drinks inside the vehicle-are they all adults then?

She clicked her tongue and looked away from you. “Don’t take words out of my mouth! It’s not like I wanted for you to come by!”

“Sure…” You drawled out. “Anyway, you want to join me on my shopping spree?”

Her blush slowly died down. “S-Shopping?”

Izanami nodded to the list that she’s holding. “We have quite a few things we need to get now that we have a new team member.”

Marie regarded her with a nod before crossing her arms. “Okay. And it’s not because I’m bored out of my mind waiting in the car.”

You chuckled at her response as you entered Daidara's shop with her. It was apparent that she's never been inside the shop, for her eyes widened at the sight of different weapons and armor that covered the walls. You continued to watch her childlike wonder before Daidara cleared his throat.

You turned to him, turning your back against Marie as you hauled your materials to his counter. "Oh, and Marie? Don't touch anything."

"What?"

Before you could repeat yourself, a crash followed and soon a feminine screech inside the shop.

Your eye twitched as you looked at Daidara with a grimace. "Would taking the most expensive weapons be enough for compensation?"

Behind you, Izanami sighed. "Good grief…"

05/01/SUN-Afternoon | Junes

You had considered your options for buying ingredients. On one hand, you wanted to support local businesses and their products...

On the other hand, maybe Nanako would be happy to hear that you made lunches out of ingredients from Junes.

You decided on the latter, Izanami dragging Marie as she tried to carry the bag of new weapons in one hand.

"What's this place now?" Marie asked you, looking around the underground grocery. Before anyone became suspicious, Izanami handed you the bag as you carried it on your back. The added weight made you groan but you continued on as you grabbed a cart.

"It's a grocery store." You replied to her, rolling the cart to the ingredients section. "I'm gonna cook for my family."

"Family?" Marie tested the word, almost sounding funny when you saw her struggling with it.

"Yeah," you said before realizing how awkward it would be to leave it at that, "is Margaret not like your relative or something?"

Marie shrugged, walking beside you in stride as she looked at the different types of miso paste brands. "She keeps annoying me so I don't think I want her as a relative."

"Huh…" You sighed out, getting the miso base as you went to another section of the store. "What's up with the Velvet Room anyway? Did you want to be inside a car for the rest of your life?"

You didn't hear her for a while except her boots tapping against the floor as your cart was steadily filling with ingredients. Marie was oddly quiet, so quiet that you and Izanami looked back at her. The girl looked like she was deep in thought, her eyebrows drawn in as though she was having an existential crisis.

Before you could ask her if she was okay, a familiar voice called your name. Yosuke was carrying a crate filled with canned tomato sauce as Jiraiya followed him, obviously bored out of his mind. Adorably enough, Jiraiya was wearing the same Junes apron. How did people not freak out over a floating apron, you didn't want to ask.

"What brings you here?" Yosuke asks you before heaving the heavy crate down on the floor. You winced when you heard an audible crack when he straightened his back.

"Just shopping to cook for Golden Week." You replied to him. "Work being too hard on you?"

He groaned tiredly. "No kidding. Just when I thought I can relax, there's a stupid sale that's happening just for the week."

You patted his back as an apology for the pain he experienced and many more in the upcoming week.

"And what are you doing?" Izanami questioned Jiraiya, who was busy fiddling with his apron that surprisingly fitted him.

"Moral support." He said simply. "Can't really touch objects without people thinking Junes is haunted so I try my best. Besides, the apron looks good on me."

"Speaking of…" Izanami trailed off, looking at the apron. It was definitely not Asian size as it stretched to accommodate Jiraya's body. She wasn't aware that there were sizes that were big enough to fit an almost 7 ft. tall being.

"Y'know, you don't have to hide it." Jiraiya said, snapping her out of her thinking. "You'd look good in an apron. Or would you rather wear mine…?"

She let out an aggravated sigh before igniting her fingers with electricity and zapping Jiraiya's side. He let out a high-pitched yelp, his body convulsing before he squirmed away from the goddess. His scarf was burned to a degree as smoke emanated from his body.

"You never change." Izanami said dryly. "And how does the apron fit you? And how is anyone not screaming at the sight of a floating apron?"

Jiraiya made a sound in his throat, an alternative to how he doesn't seem to have a mouth. He then looked down at his apron, a hand lifting and fumbling at the fabric before letting it drop.

"I honestly don't know."

While the Personas were talking, Marie, who was busy watching you comfort a crying boy, went to watch the Personas. She walked over, arms crossed as she stared at the other Persona that belonged to Yosuke.

Jiraiya took notice of the new girl's stare and immediately floated over to her, a flirtatious line ready in him as he--

"Get away from me." Marie said to him in her absolute, most dead voice.

Jiraiya, currently shocked that she could see him, dropped down from his floating stance as he scrambled on the floor. The sight was surprising but comical to Izanami as she laughed at the sight of the ninja frog struggling to recover from the attack.

Hearing Jiraiya’s struggling sounds, you looked to where your Personas are. The sight of Izanami laughing at Jiraiya and Marie staring at the two of them.

“Wait—” Yosuke gasped out, looking at Marie. “She can see them?!”

“Weird story.” You said to him. “Anyway, you think you can ring me up with some ingredients?”

"Huh? O-Oh sure…"

He then led you towards the section that you needed, all the while conversing with you about plans for Golden Week. It soon spiralled into having a talk about personal things that you two like. You felt closer to Yosuke than before.

"Oh yeah… When did our Personas can touch stuff?"

"... No clue."

Persona Time

After walking Marie back home (and quickly explaining about Skill Cards), she plopped down on the sofa as she sighed from how tired she was. Feeling the book inside of her bag, she fished it out and stared at the hardbound cover.

"You seem to have enjoyed your day out."

She flinched then glared at Margaret, the woman looking at her with the annoying stare that she didn't like. It's the type of stare that it makes her feel like Margaret is prying at her secrets. She hates it.

"Shut up." She said to Margaret, not even bothering to put up a fight.

The elder woman chuckled, her nails tapping against the Persona Compendium in an elegant manner before speaking again. "I'll be willing to let you out more as long as you try not to make too much noise inside the room."

Marie choked before glaring at her.

"Like that."

Marie clicked her tongue before looking away. Grabbing her notebook and pencil from her bag, she angrily wrote on the paper, all the while muttering about a certain platinum-blonde woman.

Both Margaret and Igor stared at her, unamused of her usual antiques. They really can't wait for you to come by again.

#persona #persona 4 #persona 4 imagines #start of a new fool #yosuke hanamura #yosuke hanamura x reader #yosuke hanamura imagines #kanji tatsumi #kanji tatsumi x reader #kanji tatsumi imagines #teddie #teddie x reader #teddie imagines #kuma #soanf #snowpea writes #series

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reflectionsforalostsoul · 3 years

Text

One

I don’t know what to say. What do you say when you feel like the world is ending? There are a million ways that life feels over. The pandemic. Climate change. Pollution. Lack of resources. Misinformation. Lack of values. Lack of morals. The list could stretch on.

I am not a scientist. I am just someone who started their existential crisis a few years ago, who now suspects that many others are caught up in their own crisis as well. How did I get there? That isn’t something I am ready to talk about, but I can tell you that I think it started for me the way it would start for most people. I lost my faith in humanity.

I had always been an optimist. Someone who always had hope for the future. I saw the good in people, but then again, don’t we all at some point? Yet life experience slowly erodes that youthful naivety that some of us are naturally imbibed with, and perhaps it was only a matter of time before that slipped away. It was like I had been stumbling around for years in some kind of haze that I can only liken to drug induced euphoria. And then they pulled out the rug and I was on my ass sober.

My perception grew sharper, and I tried to tune things out the way I had before but found myself unable to. I was noticing the people around me in ways I never had before.

Social media made me sick as I scrolled through my feed. Everyone carefully wording the things they shared to cast them in a positive light. The desperation for attention… Sharing countless memes to let the world know, Yeah, I’m funny. I’m a catch. You should know this. Everyone needs to make it known that they say what’s on their mind, consequences be damned. I mean, maybe they are blocking dear old Grandma from their stories, but everyone else is going to know exactly why you have a problem.

Maybe I am explaining it wrong. Let me just tell you exactly what I think.

People complain about the pandemic’s effect on mental health. Everyone feels cut off. Disconnected. But I’ve been feeling that way all along. I think people have been unaware of the great disconnection we are all experiencing and are just now realizing when confronted with social distancing alone we are all feeling.

Maybe it is just me. Maybe it is just my age. My Mother told me one day I would have a family and disappear into it. She said when you have kids that slowly life becomes more about them than anything else, and friendships fall by the wayside. This was told to me when I asked her why her friends didn’t visit anymore. I didn’t believe her. I was just a child and there was nothing more important to me than my friendships. The thought that my best friends wouldn’t always be a part of my life was ludicrous. I vowed to prove her wrong. That would not be my life.

My Mother had a funny way of doing that. I always knew she was an intelligent woman, but there were so many pearls like this that she shared with me throughout my childhood that would make me react in disbelief. So many times she was right, and now it’s too late to say it to her… But let me digress.

That’s not my life, you might say. My friends still come around. They still call. We have a great relationship! I am happy for you then. But I am not talking to you. I am talking to those people who are curating their online profiles with a fine tooth comb in an attempt to get recognition. Bad self esteem is easier to handle when you get positive reacts to a selfie. Anxieties about parenthood are easier to handle when you share an inspirational quote about how you need your children more than they need you. Your marriage isn’t so toxic when people are fawning over pictures of your special anniversary dinner together and saying things like, “You guys are so lucky,” or, “Look how happy they are!” Maybe things aren’t as bad as you think they are. Everyone else sees how happy you two are together. As a matter of fact, people constantly say how happy your entire family looks. Maybe you are focusing on the negative too much. You’ve gotta work on that. You have to be less negative. So, you share some more inspirational bullshit to your friends and family online. You take lots of selfies and caption them that you are loving your life or that you are #blessed.

It makes you feel a bit better. The tightness in your chest lessens a bit when your friends and family hit that like button. They wish they had your life. You are lucky. You are grateful.

I feel bad for the children though.

They will never experience what life was like before. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Every old person says this. Things were better in my day. It is almost a cliche. Unfortunately most people tend to view the past through a nostalgia filter. My Mom didn’t do that. She constantly told my siblings and I how lucky we were to be around for such a wonderful period of human history. She marveled at video games and happily played them with us. She was jealous of us getting to experience what she called the Golden Era of Disney. She made sure we appreciated the time we were alive in. I am aware of my children’s luckiness too. They have a world of information at their fingertips. Pictures and videos can happen at the touch of a phone screen ready to preserve all those precious memories. That’s nice. It really is. I would have died for a video camera in my childhood. Plus, they are living through meme culture. Such hilarity. So many funny vloggers. So many silly trends… What a time to be alive!

My kids do not ride the school bus though. They are considered car riders. The week they are with me I drop them off at school and the week they spend with their Dad his Mother drops them off. My kids get sad about this sometimes. The thought of riding the bus with their friends seemed like an adventure. They had heard funny stories from friends and even from their family. They wanted to experience it. So, I made it happen.

Those young bright eyes were wide with excitement as they waited for the school bus. They had had to get up way earlier that morning since a bus route takes much longer than me driving them directly, but they didn’t mind. They were hopeful. Their morning held so many possibilities. Their joy at the novelty of it all made my chest swell with happiness. It lessened my nervousness about it. Yes, bus rides could be fun, but there is always potential for harassment or bullying. That morning I pushed my anxiety aside and focused on the moment, tried to live in it with them. We laughed as we said goodbye that morning. I could feel the excitement. For a moment I was transported back to my own childhood and that flood of adrenaline on the first day of school. I couldn’t wait for them to come home and tell me all about it.

That afternoon I picked them up from school. There wasn’t enough time for them to ride in the afternoon, not with homework and dinner prep. So, I waited in the car rider line at the school drumming my fingers on the steering wheel in anticipation. I kind of expected happy little hops towards my car when they came out the door, but when I saw them it was a bit more reserved. They looked sleepy and ready to put their long day behind them. I was kind of surprised, but it happens like that sometimes. School can be exhausting.

Immediately they relaxed when getting in the car, sinking down with exhaustion. I turned on the music and we drove. They said they were tired from getting up so early. I had forgotten about that. So, I asked the question I had been waiting all day to ask, “Well?”

They both gave me a shrug. I was confused. I expected to hear stories of them chatting with friends. Not the disinterested attitude they were displaying. It took the whole ride home to figure it out. Apparently they didn’t do much talking with their friends because everyone has a cell phone nowadays and there were sixty little faces glued to their phone screens the entire time. My children were feeling disappointment but also jealousy. They wanted phones too and didn’t understand why they weren’t allowed to have one yet. This wasn’t how I had expected the day to go. I sensed opportunity in that moment. Those pearls of wisdom my Mother gave me in my childhood? I was determined to do the same. Our car rides were where we had our most serious conversations because there are no distractions to the kids. It is one of the only times I have their undivided attention, so I spoke.

“Babies? I am really sorry for how the bus ride turned out. It wasn’t what you were expecting, and I know that you’re feeling frustrated, but this just shows why you don’t need a phone yet. You’ve just seen it yourselves.” My son looked angry at my words. He has been asking for a phone for several years and I sometimes wonder if he feels embarrassment at not having one like all of his other friends. I continued before I could be interrupted and lose my train of thought.

“My childhood has lots of happy memories. When I am sad sometimes I think back to other happy times in my life and it helps me to get through the day. I have so many memories with friends and family that I treasure-”

“But if I had a phone I could record those memories,” my daughter interrupted angrily from the back seat.

“You are missing my point, let me finish,” I admonished her. “Lots of people are missing out on good times and fun because of their phones. You all don’t see it that way but it’s the truth. People get addicted to their phones, and not just children. Adults are addicted too. They miss out on everything happening around them. When I go to visit Grandma I always feel frustrated because she isn’t paying any attention to me, her face is buried in her phone. Apps that you would use are MADE to be addictive. There are studies about this. You get a rush of dopamine, your happiness chemical, when you get things like reacts from your friends. People are becoming so dependent on it that they are creating any true happiness in their lives. They are slaves to their phones. It isn’t just social media, phone games are made the same way. They pay people big bucks to manufacture games in a way that leaves you coming back for more, over and over. It is how they make money. People pay to speed up the reward systems in these games, and it is like being manipulated.”

“I wouldn’t get addicted,” my son muttered angrily beside me.

“That’s what everyone thinks, but it happens slowly. You know how we do family dinner? Do you ever see me on my phone?”

“No,” they replied in unison.

“Exactly. I think it is the pinnacle of rude behavior to sit down to dinner and ignore everyone around you because you are playing on your phone. That isn’t how you create good memories. When you have a bad time you think back on the good times, right?”

“Yeah,” replied my son.

“And those good times involve your friends and family, right?”

“Yeah.”

“When you are going through something hard you are going to look back on times where you felt joy, or when you shared laughs with your friends over something funny that happened. You will never think back to hours spent on a video game, especially a phone game.”

“But I have had fun playing online with my friends! You’re wrong,” my son quickly pointed out.

“Yes, I can see some good memories happening in those instances, but for the most part you are playing alone. Those good times are few and far between. You might have had a laugh over something happening on the game, but how long will you hold that memory dear?”

What I should have said before we arrived home, and maybe it didn’t occur to me to say at the time, I love looking back on experiences with people where we had deep conversations. Where we were discussing important things. Where our young minds were filled with the wonder of infinite possibilities. Do I hear my children having conversations like that? I do not. There is hardly any depth. Before you say that this is me being old and being disconnected from the youth, let me say that I am not the only one who had deep conversations with their friends in childhood. You cannot say that you never pondered the meaning of life and what your role in it was.

Are children not having as many of these conversations because we are not teaching them that skill? Or are they more guarded because there are so many more ways to experience bullying these days? Do they feel unsafe to open up? I know that I am making mistakes as a parent myself. My son told me that he wanted to be a famous youtuber one day, and I couldn’t stop myself from showing that I was unimpressed with his aspiration. I asked my son why he no longer wanted to be a writer and said matter of factly that it was a terrible idea. I shut a door between us before it had even fully opened. I didn’t mean to, and have apologized, but I know that I will never get it back. How can he open up to me when I disregarded something so important to him? I didn’t mean to do it, and I regret it.

It wasn’t just the job itself though, it was my motherly instincts.

My children have not had to deal with online abuse yet. They have never been bullied in that way. They simply cannot fathom how nasty people can be when cloaked in anonymity. How many online influencers have killed themselves in the past year? Several that I have read about.

Eventually my son did ask why I had a problem with it, and I finally got to explain a little. I mentioned the nastiness of online comments, the suicides, and the depression that these people struggle with. My son assured me that he could just ignore nasty comments. I’m not so sure.

My son is definitely funny. He talks to himself while playing video games frequently and I can hear him from the other room. I am constantly chuckling at his antics and sound effects. Do I think people could appreciate his videos? Definitely. I love his commentary. Do I think people will be jerks to him anyway? Yep. That’s what people do. It is their outlet for their hate and rage in life. People take it out on others online, because when you act like a jerk online there are rarely any lasting consequences. Maybe a temporary ban or mute, but then these online bullies very often have multiple accounts so that they can continue their bad behavior unimpeded.

I try to reflect on my motives often. I find myself wondering about others motives all of the time, so I try to scrutinize myself in the same way. Because another big problem that I notice in life is that people are not searching for introspection and very often do not understand their own motivations. People lie to themselves constantly, and if there is one thing I am sure of it is this, if you cannot trust yourself, how can you trust anybody?

Am I being a terrible parent at this moment? I definitely feel I screwed up in my response to his aspiration that he shared with me. Is this me being overprotective and stopping him from pursuing his passions? How much damage have I done by my initial response? I want my child to feel he can talk to me, and I just made a common parent blunder. Every generation of children feels that parents just don’t understand. I want to do better.

Fame is fleeting and leaves you under the microscope of public scrutiny. I would never want that for myself, and cannot imagine my son dealing with those pressures. Way too much importance is placed upon external validation. Yes, it’s nice to have but I think it is much better to validate yourself. Don’t get me wrong, my Mother validated me constantly. She made me feel so intelligent, so witty, and so wise. I think she was the greatest for this, but it is necessary to validate one’s self as well. When you are dependent entirely on other people’s praise and all of your self worth comes from the attention of others you are destroying your own resilience. Sure, people preach self love constantly these days, but I don’t see it working too well in most cases. People are bashed for being prideful, or maybe they were prideful about the wrong things. Why are you so focused on loving yourself at any weight? Don’t you know that skinny shaming is a thing? Don’t you know that your outside is irrelevant? What matters is on the inside! Insert eyeroll. These aren’t my thoughts, but just an example. Everyone has an opinion and the internet gives them a place to share it. There will always be someone who is critical of your view. Preach self love all you want, but it is still so hard to come by.

Have I helped equip my children with resilience or self love? They seem to struggle with it. Have I praised them enough? Do I feel that they are mentally strong? Not as strong as I would like, but I fear the ways they could attain mental strength. I have experienced a lot of rough times in my life. I have overcome adversity. I have been at the bottom and drug myself back to the top. Is that the only way to build mental strength or resilience? Through pain? Everyone struggles in life. Will my children’s struggles help them to grow to be strong people or will it leave them a broken person constantly questioning their own validity?

No one knows the future. How do we know that our methods are right? We can only proceed based on our own life experiences and knowledge. It is so terrifying not to know what the future holds. What seemingly inconsequential things did you say or do that will reverberate through your child’s life and affect them in ways you cannot begin to imagine? Hindsight is easy. Staring into the unknown future is much harder. It is incredibly difficult to face. Every single person is capable of causing untold amounts of ripples that expand into society and spread throughout the word.

Do you ever think about your own ripples?

Some people are aware of it and try to send out good ones. They try to pay it forward whenever conceivable. Maybe they pay for the person behind them’s meal in line at a drive through restaurant. Maybe they bring donuts for their coworkers. Maybe they stop and help people alongside the road who need help changing a tire. There is plenty of good still in this world. It isn’t all bad. But are we as a society focusing enough on the bad ripples? The bad energy we are sending out into the world?

So few seem to care these days. Humanity as a whole is selfish. It isn’t your fault, that is our nature. It is how we survive. But deep down how many times have you made an exception for yourself because you are special, you are you? The pandemic has really opened my eyes to people’s inherent selfishness. How dare you try to inconvenience me by requiring me to wear a face mask? I don’t care that it is mandated, and that you are simply doing your job, I am going to harass and abuse you! You may not be in support of wearing a mask on a personal level, but I don’t care about that. I am not going to live my life in fear like all of you sheeple. So, be prepared, I will hit you. I will spit on you. I will shoot you. Seems dramatic, right? But this has happened over and over again in this past year.

I want to ask where is the humanity, but I am beginning to fear that this IS humanity.

So often I struggle with wondering, is humanity worth saving? If this is the end-times do we deserve another chance? What makes us redeemable? The only answer that I can come up with is love. We are redeemable because of love. Maybe you have a better answer than me. Love is the only thing that I can come up with at this moment, and even that is hard to hold on to. I feel myself spiral and losing faith in humanity on a daily basis almost, and I have to make a conscious effort to remember the good things. Those loving moments that we are capable of.

The animals that we rescue. The children that we pray for. The couples who still love each other after many trials or years. The art inspired by it, or the music. Love is a universal feeling. It can unite us, though we face the ever present danger of hate dividing us. I am so past hating stuff. I can tell you that I intensely dislike our former president, but do I wish his death like I have seen others do? I do not. I think we have a world full of damaged people searching for meaning, and there is no manual. We are all trying our best and are making decisions based on our own life experiences. What is right to you is wrong to someone else. It doesn’t mean anyone is wrong. It is just perspective. There is no other way to view it that I am aware of. We all have different perspectives, our own personal narratives of events. That is just what humanity does. We are not a collective consciousness. So many people try to make things black and white, when really there are nothing but varying shades of grey. Had I lived your life and been through the things you have been through I might feel very differently. This is just my opinion on the matter, based upon my own life experiences. I don’t hate you for feeling differently than me. I just get sad sometimes that we struggle to find common ground. I want us to succeed. I want humanity to persevere.

How do I explain everything that is on my mind lately without making you feel it is endless rambling? I know this started with a list of things that make it feel like the world is ending, and I could go on forever. Do I drone on and on, or should I find some semblance of structure? I do not mean to be a bore, but there is so much to address. Is this a diary? Is this to my children? I am unsure. Maybe it is just for me. Maybe I just need to find the words that can make a difference. I don’t know about you but for quite a while now I haven’t been able to shake the feeling that time is running out and there is something I must do. I hope that by trying to organize my thoughts I can figure out what it is.

#existential despair #diary #what does it all mean #is this the end?#unfiltered #not trying to start anything #deep conversations #disconnected #firsttimetumblr

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