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villainousshakespeare · 3 years

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Learning a Lesson Chapter 9

iLearning a Lesson Chapter 8

Part 1 Here, Part 2 Here, Part 3 Here, Part 4 Here, Part 5 Here, Part 6 Here, Part 7 Here, Part 8 Here

Young Actor Tom Hiddleston/OFC

Rated E -Smut, Angst, Complicated Relationship - Teacher/Actor Posing as Student, Feels, Flirting, Fluff, Oral Sex, Sex, Shower Sex, Threats, Breakups, Angst…

ANGST IN THIS CHAPTER! (but don’t worry… I’m a hopeless romantic)

Summary: It’s your first day as a teacher and things are going well. That is, until a tall, gorgeous boy with blond curls and dramatic ways saunters into your last class. When he ignores all the swooning girls to flirt outrageously with you, it is secretly thrilling. Even more so is when he tries to steal a kiss after class ends. How long will you be able to keep your defenses up?

Up and Coming actor Tom is under cover in high school for research for a movie, but the pretty drama teacher is making the long assignment so much more enjoyable

@arch-venus25, @caffiend-queen @ciaodarknessmyheart @frostbitten-written @just-the-hiddles @kellatron55 @myoxisbroken @nonsensicalobsessions @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @shae-annelore @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @hiddlesholic @yespolkadotkitty @vodka-and-some-sass @wolfsmom1 @tom-hlover @toozmanykids @delightfulheartdream @whyispistashanuttaken @hopelessromanticspoonie; @loki-yoursaviourishere @is-it-madness

The Monday morning walk to school was the longest of Emily's life. With every step she took she was tempted to turn around and run the other way, hiding under her blankets and weeping rather than going on. Only a deep seated stubborn streak kept her from giving in to her fears and doing just that.

She needn't have worried. Tom was true to his word. There was no sign of him to be found in school. No infectious laugh ringing through the hallway, no tousled halo of blond hair floating above the shorter students amidst a throng of admirers, and no ice blue eyes seeking hers for a secret wink or speaking glance.

Emily told herself it was for the best. She hoped she would eventually believe it.

The other god-send was that Jim Howard seemed to have called in sick. A substitute was in his classroom when she got there, and never had she been so glad to see the old woman than she was that day. She assumed that it was his pride that kept him from walking into the building with a black eye and a swollen jaw, and took evil delight in the fact that Tom had so thoroughly trounced him.

Tom. There he was again. She could not go five minutes without calling him to mind. It was going to be a long day. Hell, it was going to be a long forever as far as she knew. How long would it take to get over the golden boy who had so completely won her heart?

Half a day was how long it took for the news of his exit to hit the school grapevine. Emily began hearing his name whispered during her fourth period class. By the time that class ended and she made her way to the staff lounge it was all anyone was talking about. Ada, Janis, and Mike were gossiping about it when she came in, a pathetic lunch of coffee and a banana in her hand.

"Well, anyone with eyes could have seen that that boy should be a movie star," Janis was opining. "It doesn't surprise me one bit."

"Oh, come on Janis," Mike laughed, skepticism showing, "he was handsome, sure, but there's no way you saw this coming!"

"I'm not saying that," Janis sniffed. "Obviously I didn't know he was an actor. But if anyone in this school was destined for greatness it was Martinsson."

"Hiddleston," Mike corrected her. "Apparently that's his real name. You're awfully quiet, Emily. You were close with the boy, weren't you? Tutoring him after hours and all?"

"Not that close," she said with a half shrug. "He claimed to want help with an audition monologue, but that was obviously for show. We never actually worked on it. Just class."

The words were true enough as far they went, even if the meaning behind them was an all out lie.

"Still, he clearly preferred you," Ada said, giving her a probing look. "I heard all sorts of chatter about how he always flirted with you, volunteering to read romantic scenes with you. I was a little jealous, to tell the truth. I mean, and I can say it now that I know he's a genuine adult - what I wouldn't have given for a chance to sculpt a nude of that boy!"

"No wonder Howard hated him so much," Mike laughed good naturedly. "It seems it's not just the high school girls who had a thing for him."

Emily did her best to tune them out after that, and took to eating in her classroom. The days blended into each other, with no end of the day secret to make them stand out as special.

The kids in her drama class were all excited of course. The thought that they had read scenes with an honest to goodness actor, one who was going to be starring in a movie, made them practically giddy. Kate began recirculating the lie that the two of them had been involved, and no one dared to correct her. Emily was angry on his behalf, offended that anyone would believe he would fool around with a student, until she realized the implications of that thought.

It was that guilt that was the worst. Well, along with the loneliness. Even if he had been an adult, she hadn't known that. She had thought him no different than Kate or Zack or Jamie, and she had slept with him anyway. She deserved all the pain she was feeling. Deserved more than that; to loose her job and never be hired again, even. More and more she slipped into a depression.

It was nine days after she had thrown him out of her apartment and her life that the first letter arrived. She grabbed her mail from the small slot inside the door and rifled through it on the way up the stairs as she always did, expecting nothing more than bills and solicitations. When she turned over an envelope addressed in an instantly recognizable hand, she felt as though she had been punched in the gut. Hands shaking, she opened the seal, afraid that if she didn't do it at once she would never find the courage, and unfolded a letter.

"My Darling Emily," it began in Tom's loopy mess of long hand, "I know I have no right to write to you, having broken your trust in the most caddish way possible. I only hope that you will allow me the opportunity to once more take advantage of your goodness of heart and kindness of disposition, that I may try to explain why I orchestrated such a hurtful charade.

"As you are patently aware now, I am an actor of both stage and screen. I take my profession very seriously, perhaps more so than it deserves, though I like to believe that you among all women will understand why. If I can peel away the layers of a character enough to expose the beating heart within, allowing my audience to sees even a piece of the truth of humanity in my portrayal, then I truly believe that I am contributing something to this shared experience we all are living. Pretentious as that sounds, it is my goal every time I assume a role, be it Iago or a soldier, or even Mr. Toad.

"When I was cast as a student from the States, I knew I had my work cut out for me. I was educated, I blush to say my love, in the best schools in England: Eton, Cambridge, and RADA. My good fortune has been quite excessive, I know, though no teacher I encountered in all of my tutelage could hold a candle to you, my darling. In any case, I was woefully unprepared to know the struggle such a young man was going through. My director came up with the idea to have me pose in a small town school, and I admit I leapt at the chance.

"Never in a million years would I have guessed that I would meet the woman of my dreams in such a situation.

"I confess that in the beginning I flirted with you to amuse myself. You are quite breathtakingly beautiful, my sweet, and I was bored beyond belief. As the days went on, however, I began to uncover the woman underneath the starched blouses and pencil skirts. A woman with a mind that soared and a soul that sung. One who shared my passion for stage poetry, and did not back down from a challenge.

"In short, my darling Emily, I fell in love with you.

"I should have told you the moment our relation crossed over the line. Alas my love, I fear that it is a coward who worships you. I was afraid that if you learned the truth you would be angry, and I wanted to collect as many precious moments with you as I could before your warm eyes turned cold. My sin is great, I know. I do not deserve to be forgiven. Nonetheless, I place my heart at your feet in hope that you will take it up, take pity on me, and not stomp it beneath your shoe.

"The film I am working on seized the opportunity afforded by my early matriculation to begin shooting. I am relocated to New York City to start principal photography. I know it is a mere two hours from you, and yet it feels the length of the world. Knowing I will not see you each day, hold you at night, is a weight on my soul that I know I have only myself to blame for.

"I ask nothing of you, my dearest Emily, but that you allow me to write to you. I do not expect you to write back, although I live in hope that one day you will. The distance keeps us apart, but perhaps that need not be all bad. Perhaps it can give you time to heal and to trust me once more. Let me write to you, to tell you about myself - my real self - and try to win your friendship back if nothing else. It has been the most important of my life.

"I do not flatter myself that I will ever hold you again, kiss your soft lips, feel you beneath me as you gasp in passion. I have too great a mark against me to hope for such grace. I would die to have it, but will not impose it on you. Just let me try to heal the hurt I have done, and I will be content.

"If you cannot find it within you to accept my offer of friendship in the form of epistles, simply write me with one word. 'Stop' and I will cease. You are in control, my heart. I will bow to your wishes.

"Please take good care of yourself, my Emily. I wish I could be their to tend to you myself. Be warry of the dread maths teacher. I know it is no longer my place, but I would ask you to not be alone around him.

"Enough of that. I will end for now. Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.

"My heart is yours.

All my love,

Tom."

Emily read the letter through, barley able to make out the words through the tears welling in her eyes. When she had finished, she collapsed onto the bed and read it through again, openly weeping this time. All of the pain and guilt she had been holding in came flooding out. In the end, she had to put the letter aside so that the deluge of her tears didn't permanently mar the ink composing the lines. By then she knew it by heart, but she still loved to see his strong hand scrawled out over the page.

She did not for a moment consider writing him to stop. Perhaps she should have. There was no future she could see for the two of them. Her trust had been shattered, along with her mental image of herself, by the situation. On top of that, he was away, filming a movie in the big city that she rarely went to. When this movie was ended, who knew where he would be? Jetting off to exotic countries? Treading the boards in London? His life was exciting and adventurous, and she was a little mouse of a school teacher from a small town. How could they hope to make a relationship work, even without their drama?

The letters came far more frequently than she had expected. While it was not every day, Tom was clearly grasping every spare moment he had to pour out his heart to her. He told her all about the filming process. She felt as though she knew his costars, so vividly did he depict them. Against her will, Emily would find herself laughing at ridiculous anecdotes, or groaning in commiseration at delays in the shooting.

In the midst of all of these tales of misadventures and productivity, Tom made clear to he still hoped to win Emily back. He never missed an opportunity to praise her, calling her darling, his sweet, his dear, his love. He mentioned how he had suggested that one of the teachers should be young, smart, and sexy as an homage to her, though no one could possibly do her justice. He let slip that he had been making his costars groan with his continual referencing her, to the point where they teased him any time her name arose.

At the end of each letter he dropped all pretense, stating plainly that he loved her and would do anything to win her back. He insisted that he would wait, that the decision was entirely hers, but that he lived in hope that one day she would write him back, telling him she forgave him. Until that day, he would soldier on and try to deserve her.

Several times Emily found herself sitting down, trying to pen a reply to him. She wanted, desperately wanted, to do so. But each time, the fear would come crashing down and she would end up tearing the letter to shreds.

About two months after the letters started, there was a longer than usual gap between arrivals. Emily began to think that he had given up on her, and a panic she had never felt gripped her. She had not realized the extent to which she had been living for his words.

When an envelope finally arrived, it was in an international envelope, and the return address was London, England. That was it, then. He was out of the country. All of the stories of his homecoming, complete with welcoming family, were a dagger to her. He still professed his love, but now an actual ocean separated them along with the sea of emotion.

Their were two more letters, spread over a month and a half, and then nothing for three weeks. Depression returned. She had all but given up when a card shaped envelope, gilded on the edges, arrived in her box.

***

"Alright, out with it!"

Emily looked up from the pile of papers she was grading to see Ada standing in her classroom door, arms crossed over her paint splattered apron and a determined look on her face.

"Out with what?" Emily asked, confusion genuine.

"It's been four months, Emily," the older woman said, shutting the door behind her as she walked in and sat at one of the student desks. The same desk, Emily couldn't help but note, that had once been Tom's.

"Sorry?"

"Four months that you have been moping around! Barely showing your face in the teacher's lounge, looking like someone stole your dog and kicked your kitten. This, from the girl who was such a spark of joy when she was hired that she even ignited passion for teaching in an old war horse like me!"

"I'm sorry," Emily mumbled.

"Don't be sorry, girl! Tell me what's wrong!"

"It's nothing."

"Emily, do you think I'm blind?" Ada asked with a sigh.

"No..."

"Or that I'm stupid?"

"Of course not!"

"Good," Ada snorted. "As I am neither. Four months ago, a certain long-legged boy with more looks than are good for anyone swaggered out of this school, and you have been a ghost ever since. It's not hard to put the pieces together."

Emily gaped at her, all color draining from her face. If Ada knew, or strongly suspected, was it then general knowledge? Was her shame a joke amongst the faculty, or a cause of scorn?

"Don't worry, hun," Ada said, as though reading her mind. "Most of the people around here are blind and stupid. No one else has any idea. Well, maybe Jim, but that's a whole other can of worms that I am not too keen on digging around in. So, you fell for the boy, huh?"

"You must despise me," Emily said, voice hardly above a whisper.

"So you're failing is that you're deaf," Ada shook her head. "How many times did you hear me rhapsodize about him? Hell, I was undressing him with my eyes every damn day!"

"But you never took it farther than that."

"No, I didn't. But then I am decades older than either one of you and was not given the opportunity. Who knows what I might have done if he had batted those long golden lashes at me and flashed a dimple."

"You wouldn't have slept with a student," Emily said doggedly.

"Is that what this is? That you feel guilty? Tell me something, Emily: would you ever even consider anything inappropriate with say... Jack Simmons, or Zach Lewis, or Dan Fielding? Would it even occur to you?"

"No," Emily said at once, repulsed by the very idea.

"Of course not. Because they are children. The Simmons boy is a hulking child, true, but even though he is big, he is still an adolescent. You can easily tell in a moment he is not an adult. Now, compare that to Tom. He has a baby face, and is all gangly, but there was something about him that flatly identified him as a man. You knew that, instinctively. That is why you let things play out the way you did."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because I know you," Ada said simply. "You are a good person, with a moral compass. Was it a stupid thing to do? Of course! It could have ended horribly for you, and thank god it didn't! But don't beat yourself up for listening to your intuition when it turned out to be right! Even if the boy did end up being a snake."

"What if he wasn't?" Emily asked carefully.

"I just assumed... he left, and you didn't seem happy about it... Emily, what did happen?"

Emily looked at her friend, chewing on her lip as she decided what to say. Ada already knew the worst; what harm could it do to let her in on the rest? In a rush it all came out. The clandestine affair, the trouble with Mr. Howard, seeing Tom on Nicholas Nickleby, their disastrous fallout, all of it. Ada sat there rapt as Emily spilled the whole sordid story.

"He really punched Jim?" Ada asked when she had finished, a huge grin spread over her face.

"Twice," Emily confirmed, answering smile on her own mouth. "Hard. Knocked him flat onto the ground."

"Oh, would I have loved to have seen that."

"I could have lived without it, honestly."

"Oh, hun, I don't know what to tell you," Ada shook her head. "I don't even know whether to feel jealous of you sorry for you. Both, I suppose. Ah, to be young again."

"He's been writing me letters," Emily confessed, face reddening. "Ever since he left."

"What does he say?" Ada's eyes were huge.

"Different things. How his day is going. About the filming. That he loves me and wants to be with me."

"Well what the hell are you doing here then?" Ada stood from the desk to stare at her.

"Ada..."

"Girl, if that young man wanted me, you can bet that nothing would keep me away!"

"He's in London," she muttered.

"Did something happen to all the airplanes?"

"No... In fact..."

"In fact what, Emily? Spill it? Give a woman something to live vicariously through!"

With a sigh, Emily dug through her bag and pulled out the card she had received the day before. It was an invitation to a movie premiere in New York City. Folded along with that was a train ticket, prepaid first class, and a small note:

"I would not wish Any companion in the world but you, Nor can imagination form a shape, Besides yourself, to like of.

Tom (with all thanks to Miranda in The Tempest)"

"Well," Ada smiled at her, "when shall we go shopping? You, my dear, are going to need a dress!"

#Tom Hiddleston #tom hiddleston rpf #Tom Hiddleston/OFC #fic #fanfic #love #angst #pining #letters #love letters #smut (in other chapters)#teacher/student relationship #BUT NOT REALLY #he is undercover for a role #I am a sucker for a happy ending I promise!

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anathewierdo · 3 years

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Call of the Ocean Chapter 29: Pop Goes the Weasel

Pairing: CEO!Mechanic!Dean Winchester x Mermaid!Reader

Word count: 5038

Chapter summary: After a long and crazy night, Thasman and Roan are still not in great terms. Dean and Y/N set “Operation Lock the Idjits Until They Talk” in motion.

Series summary: CEO of Winchester Auto Dean Winchester has had enough of the office life. With his father keeping him from what he wants to do, which is work on the plant floor, Dean decides to leave for a quiet life. In Matagorda, Texas, he finds something he never thought he would, a chance encounter with a mythical creature.

Call of the Ocean Masterlist

A/N: Chapter 29 is here!!!! Who else is excited for what’s to come?? This series is a collaboration with @flamencodiva . Text dividers were made by the awesome @talesmaniac89

Next chapter of Call of the Ocean will be posted this Saturday, December 5th

Y/N came down from her room the next morning, feeling as content as ever. She and Dean had gotten back from their date with Y/N smiling from ear to ear. She missed sleeping next to him but she wanted to see how Roan spent his night on his date before the get-together at noon. Reaching the kitchen, she noticed Roan sulking over a cup of coffee.

“How was your date?” she asked, startling the merman.

“Good,” he shrugged.

“Will you see him again?” she poured herself a cup of coffee and frowned at Roan’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you know where Thasman is?” Roan questioned. “He wasn’t here when I got back and I was wondering if he decided to stay at Dean’s dwelling last night.”

Y/N frowned, “I haven’t seen him.” She looked at him, “Did something happen last night?”

Roan’s grip on the coffee cup tightened, “No. Nothing happened. I was just wondering.”

Both Y/N and Roan turned their heads as the door to Ellen’s home opened, revealing Thasman. He stumbled in and made his way to the couch, clothes disheveled and hair a mess. Roan and Y/N looked at each other before Y/N made her way to Thasman.

“Thas?” Y/N called.

“Shhhhh!” he moaned. “You’re too loud.”

Roan purposely ignored his request, voice rising in volume, “Where were you?”

“I was with Jeff,” Thasman sighed. “Why do you care? You were with Andrew,” he moaned. “I need bacon.”

Y/N gave him an apologetic look even though her friend was busy digging his face into the couch, “Ellen’s already left for work and we don’t know how to make it. Sorry, Thas.”

Thasman let out a whine, “I’m going to shower and change. Maybe I can get something at Bobby’s. He’s going to give me one of his cars to fix. He said I could keep it.”

“Thasman where were you?” Y/N asked gently, seeing the glare Roan was giving Thasman.

“I’ve told you. I was with Jeff,” the merman whined again, bracing himself up and off the couch. “Now let me go shower.”

“You can wait a few minutes. Who’s Jeff?” Y/N grabbed him. “What happened last night?”

“I spent the evening watching movies and drinking with Cas. We went out, drank some more. I met Jeff, and then I went home with Jeff. And now I’m here. And I really need to shower.”

Y/N sighed, “Fine, but you are telling me everything,” she warned him.

Thasman waved her off as he made his way to the stairs, “Heh, heh. Ugh, tala em lli hngukk.” (Yeah, yeah. Ugh, I feel dead)

“I have never seen Thasman like that,” Roan huffed. “What was he thinking?”

“Roan?” Y/N watched as he began to pace.

“Ili em llii gahfooruu,” he muttered. (I am feeling anger)

“Roan,” Y/N whispered softly as she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Em dal dehffoo?” (are you sad?)

“Something could have happened to him.”

“Like something could have happened to you?” she pointed out. “He seems to have done what you did Roan. He’s trying to move on,” she turned away from him and smiled to herself.

Roan was jealous and her plan could work. She walked to the kitchen and poured herself some cereal.

“How was Andrew? Did you have a good time?” Y/N asked.

The merman ran a hand through his face, recalling the events of last night numbly, “It was fine. Pleasant, even. Just not a big deal.”

“Did you kiss?” Y/N grinned. “What was it like? Will you see him again?”

“No. I asked him to bring me back here and that was it. He’s very nice, I just didn’t… feel anything.”

“Oh?” Y/N raised her eyebrow at him. “I guess if Thasman stayed out he must have had fun.”

At the mere thought of the implication, Roan stood up, quick as lightning and heading towards the front door in search of fresh air, “Toh. Toh, he didn’t do that. No. He probably just… passed out on the Cheehuuii’s dwelling.”

“You’re calling the man he met a seaweed?” Y/N giggled. “Are you jealous?” she ate a spoonful of cereal and smiled at Roan. “I thought you wanted to move on. It’s what’s best. Besides, if you move on, what made you think he wasn’t going to?”

“No!” he exclaimed, then backtracked quickly as he realised how that sounded. “I mean, yes, but… It’s like he said, you’re the only one out of the three of us that can actually stay here. He’s going to end up heartbroken like he lectured us so many times.”

Y/N’s lips formed a thin lined smile as she took in Roan’s words, “It looks like you’re already heartbroken.” Y/N huffed, “But at least Thasman seemed to have had a good time. He deserves to be happy. He’s always in his head. He thinks he isn’t worthy of anyone being with him,” she confessed. “He seems to think that he isn’t worthy of any kind of affection and that people will leave him.”

That stopped Roan in his tracks, “He still thinks that?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Y/N shrugged. “You kind of abandoned him. He was willing to change for you and you broke him. You broke both of you.” The princess had been holding all of this in for a month, “He may be stubborn, but he does things because he doesn’t want to be abandoned. He’d rather sacrifice his own happiness for everyone else. He saw you moving on so… he decided he needed to as well.”

Roan stayed silent as Y/N looked out the window, “Dean is still home. I guess he hasn’t started his preparation for today yet? Want to head over and see if they’re okay with us helping out there?” she suggested.

Roan nodded, numbly thinking of what Thasman did, being in that dwelling with the human. His heart hurt at the thought of Thasman moving on. And yet, he knew Thasman had felt the same. Pushing the thoughts aside, he rushed to his room to get dressed for work. It was fun, but he missed being with his dolphins. Maybe he could find the time to swim with them on his next visit to the cave.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Dean hated the silence in the house as he woke up to make breakfast. Looking over at Ellen’s house, he sighed. Maybe he should have asked Y/N to stay over again? But she said she wanted to be there when Roan and Thasman woke up. He could understand that. As he moved around the kitchen, he heard two groans coming from the living room. Tilting his head, he walked over.

Big mistake.

There on the living room floor, covered in one of the couch throws Y/N had bought for him, lay Cas and Meg. Bodies intertwined and snuggly from what looked like a night of passion. As he looked at the couple laying on the floor, he had a wicked smile on his face. He kind of hated to embarrass Meg, but he had to embarrass Cas in some way. Dean smiled when Meg woke up to use the restroom, not bothering to cover herself up as Dean turned away and heard as she closed the bathroom door.

Slowly moving around, Dean laid himself down next to Cas and smiled. Clearing his throat, he made his voice slightly higher.

“Clarence,” he said, trying not to giggle. “So big and strong.”

Cas let out a small moan as he turned and wrapped his arms around Dean and snuggled into him.

“Meg,” he whispered, “you feel different.”

“Clarence?” Meg appeared and raised her brow at what Dean was doing. “If I knew you boys swung both ways we’d have been having loads of fun.”

“It’s senior year all over again,” Cas groaned as he leaned in and kissed Dean’s cheek.

“Dude,” Dean chuckled. “That was one kiss and while it was nice,” he kissed Cas’s forehead, “I’m afraid it’s not for me, Cas.”

“Same here. Shame you’re not my type,” Cas winked, pushed away from him and motioned for Meg to come back into his arms.

Dean got up and smiled, “Bacon?”

“God yes!” Cas groaned. “We took Thasman out last night and he went home with someone.”

“He did?” Dean rushed back. “No way?!”

Castiel stood up slowly, one hand remaining on his forehead to somehow calm down the headache he had, “He drank, danced, flirted, and left. The whole nine.”

“Yeah,” Meg agreed, “as soon as we got there, a guy came up and asked to buy him a drink. Mind you, I think he and Clarence had a pre drinking party,” Meg chuckled as she told the story.

“He loved Titanic. Hated the ending, but loved the movie. He also turned out to be a huge fan of Mr. Bean.”

“Of course he did,” Dean grinned, amused. “But he left with someone. I mean… he really did let go, huh? Does that mean the plan is out the door?”

“I guess,” Meg shrugged. “Or maybe it was just a one-night stand. I mean, people have rebound sex all the time.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Dean said as he looked over and smiled, seeing three familiar bodies heading towards the house. “Speaking of, I think we’re going to have company.”

The couple stood up immediately, starting to look around the living room, “Where did we put the rest of our clothes?”

Dean chuckled as he watched the couple scramble to find the clothes they had thrown all over the living room. He smiled when they grabbed what they could find and made their way to Cas’ room. Dean had just grabbed the bacon from the fridge when a knock on the door made him smile once again. Walking over, Dean opened the door and smiled at Y/N and the two men behind her. The sight of a pained-looking Thasman made him try to keep his laughter in but he ultimately failed.

“Rough morning, buddy?”

“Need bacon,” Thasman groaned. “Ellen never taught us how to cook delicious sweet bacon.”

He opened the door further, motioning for the three to enter, “I got some in the kitchen, man. Come on in.”

Thasman hugged Dean, “You have been promoted to clownfish!”

“I’m guessing that’s a good thing,” he patted Thasman’s back.

“It is,” Thasman chuckled. “Oh, and I was wondering if I could invite the man I met last night?” he gave a side glance at Roan wondering what the merman would do.

This was one of those times where Dean was grateful he’d been part of the school play in high school, “You met someone last night?”

“I did and--” Thasman bit his lip. “It was good. I--” he chuckled nervously, “I guess you can say the whole world felt as though it was shaking?”

“Oh my god, Thas!” Dean smiled. “Sure, give him a call. Tell him he can come around.”

Roan swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to smile, but it hurt. He could see a small glint in Thasman’s eye and he looked at Y/N for help.

“I think it would be nice to meet him,” Y/N said softly, giving Roan a squeeze. “You can call him after you’ve gotten your bacon.”

“Yes! I like that plan!” Thasman clapped, walking towards Dean’s couch and flopping on it face first. “Right after I sleep some more.”

“Must’ve been a hell of a night.”

Y/N elbowed Dean slightly as her eyes glanced at Roan’s hurt expression. Y/N sighed and pulled Roan away from the group for a bit.

“Are you going to be okay? You can call Andrew and have him come over?” she suggested.

“No, I’ll be fine. Who knows? Maybe Jeff will drop dead unexpectedly or perhaps he has something else to do,” Roan breathed as he looked at Thasman who settled on the couch with sunglasses over his eyes.

“It’s a good thing you have moved on, right?”

“You win,” Roan sighed. “I don’t want him with anyone else but me. But what can I do now? Maybe Jeff makes him happier than I ever could,” he whispered to Y/N.

Y/N smiled in victory, “I’ll talk to Dean. We’ll come up with a plan. You and Thas are getting back together.”

“I guess he did more than just sleep with the Cheehuuii,” Roan said bitterly. “I guess I deserved that. It’s fine your highness.” Roan gave her a teary smile, “I guess it really wasn’t meant to be.”

Before Y/N could stop him, Roan made his way past the couch to the back porch to stare at the beach, Thasman’s loud snoring the only noise for the moment.

After about an hour, everyone was back inside eating breakfast. Thasman, much to Roan’s dismay, was gushing over the Cheehuuii’s apartment.

“And the way it overlooks the town is amazing!” Thasman smiled but there was something not right about it and Y/N could tell. “He said he could show me around on his boat sometime. He works for a local fishing company.”

“Cheehuuii em setannor,” Roan muttered. (sea-weed is curious but dangerous person)

Thasman rolled his eyes and cleared his throat, “I’ll give him a call later and see if he wants to come. We talked about so many things, Y/N!” he looked at Dean and smiled. “He said there was a place called an Aquarium where they have a lot of different sea creatures that they take care of. Some are rare, others are rescued who have been hurt.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve been there,” Meg commented. “It’s really nice. Small, but nice. With you guys being such fans of the ocean, I think you’d love it.”

“It does sound nice,” Y/N smiled at Thasman. “But Thas, are you sure you’re okay?” she gave him a pointed look.

“Tala em ghood,” Thasman assured her, giving her his fakest smile. (I am good) “I promise. Now, I need to make my way to Bobby’s. I need to start fixing up that car if I’m going to keep it. I’ll be back once I’m done with what I have to do today. Meg would you give me a ride?”

She nodded in response, “Sure, Thas. Ready to go when you are.”

“I’m ready now,” Thasman said, ignoring the looks Roan was giving him. “I’ll see you all later.”

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Y/N helped Dean get the house ready for the barbecue. She had given Roan something to keep him busy and made her way to the kitchen to clean up that morning’s breakfast.

Dean stood behind Y/N as she helped clean up the dishes. His lips found her neck, leaving a trail of kisses; the moan she released making him smile against her skin.

“I love it when you make those sounds,” Dean admitted.

"I think I am distracting you too much," Y/N said as she turned in his arms. "Maybe we are spending a little too much time together," she teased.

“Y/N,” Dean pouted. “I can’t help it if you are the most beautiful, sexiest woman I have ever laid my eyes on.”

Y/N blushed and kissed him, “We should focus on the barbecue.” She caressed his cheek, “I’m not going anywhere Dean.”

“Please don’t,” he pleaded.

“I won’t. Not soon at least.”

“If you do have to go back, even for a little while,” he placed his forehead against hers, “at least give me a heads up. Who knows,” he gave her a small shrug, “maybe I can go with you and see what your island is all about.”

The comment had Y/N shaking her head softly, “You can’t go, Dean. I’d love it if you came but you can’t. It’s very complicated to get there and, well, you saw what that website said: We are a very closed off place. We just barely started to get out.”

Dean nodded his head, “I get it. I don’t want to cause you trouble. But it would be nice to learn to speak your language. Maybe you can teach me some of it?”

“Hhu-hng,” Y/N said with a smile, placing her hand on his chest. “It means heart. Dal em my hhu-hng. You are my heart.” She smiled a bit, “Our language is a bit of a mystery, some words we have. Others we borrow.”

Dean was smiling wide both at her words and her willingness to teach him. He hummed in understanding, “Can I get that little phrase once more?”

“Dal. Em. My. Hhu-hng,” she said slowly her hand still over his heart as she gazed deeply into his eyes.

“How do you say ‘have’, Princess?” Dean whispered as he caressed her cheek.

“Bi.”

“So if I were to say…” he paused to consider what could be the correct phrasing. Letting the words out slowly, “Dal bi my hhu-hng. Would that be right?”

“You have my heart, too,” she said with a bright smile. “You are a very quick study. You will be speaking it in no time.”

“I have an amazing teacher,” he shrugged playfully, giving Y/N a quick peck before stepping out of her embrace. “I’ll help you finish cleaning up here, then I have to go outside and start the grill, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

“Hey, is the plan still standing? I mean, Roan did go out with someone last night and from the looks of it, Thasman had a one night stand.”

“It is alive and well. Roan hasn’t moved on. They’re gonna talk and hopefully go back to friendly terms again. I can’t take any more of their fighting and arguing.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Dean reached over and moved her hair behind her ear. “I just hope Thasman’s one night of fun didn’t ruin anything. I mean have they ever…” he trailed off.

Y/N shook her head, “I never asked.”

“Well, I guess we can try and lock them in one of the rooms later, but I’m scared Thasman’s going to break one of the doors down. He is freakishly strong.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, “Do all the guards on the Island have his strength?”

“As far as we know, he’s the strongest,” she explained. “It’s one of the reasons he was appointed to me. If anything were to happen, he’d be strong enough to fight it off.”

“That makes sense,” Dean nodded as he put the last of the dishes away. “You ever made salad before?” he wondered. “I know being a princess, they probably have had you sheltered but… Maybe Ellen taught you how.”

“She did. I’ll go get Roan, he can help me make it.”

“Okay,” Dean smiled. “I’ll be cleaning the grill. Benny and Andy should be here soon.”

The rest of the morning flew by in a blur of cooking, cleaning, and setting everything so the barbeque would be ready. Benny and Andrea arrived just in time for Dean to start manning the grill with Roan and Castiel. Y/N had ended up sitting in one of the chairs they’d brought outside.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Eventually, Thasman made it back from Bobby’s with a package from Al’s and soda (he had hated the drink since the first time he tried it, but everyone else liked it, so he always bought some in case anyone wanted it). He sat next to Y/N as Roan walked up and looked around.

“No, Cheehuuii?” Roan commented, much to Y/N’s displeasure.

“He couldn’t make it,” Thasman gave Roan a smile. “Besides, you have no room to ask a question like that. You decided we were done and I’m moving on,” Thasman huffed. “Em dal gahooraa?” he sneered. (are you jealous?) “I would have thought you would have been happy to get rid of a stingray like me. Everyone leaves me eventually,” he stood up and glared at Roan. “It’s only a matter of time, right?”

“Dal em a stingray, Thasman!” Roan growled. “Maybe that��s why people leave you! Because all you know how to do is put your happiness on hold for others. But when it’s time for you to be happy…” Roan licked his lips, “you would rather let it go up in flames than fight for it. Enjoy your Cheehuuii, he em lusa,” Roan spat before storming inside. (Cheehuuii = Seaweed and Lusa = Someone Who Would Fail To See A Mermaid Right In Front Of His Face).

Thasman closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat at the words Roan spat at him. Taking a slow deep breath, he shook out the uneasy feeling of heartbreak and plastered on a smile.

“I’m going to go hang out with the guys,” Thasman announced as he made his way to where they were huddling around the grill.

Y/N leaned over the table to reach out and pour herself a glass of whiskey, “This is going to be a long evening.”

As the evening progressed, Thasman could be seen laughing with the rest of the guys after a few beers. He seemed to be teaching them a few phrases in mermish, or as the guys called it, Sindartan. They seemed to get the hang of it fairly quickly.

Eventually, the barbeque was ready and all the food was laid out on the table for each to take their pick. The three merpeople, particularly, seemed to love everything the most. Y/N had her pick of a few of what she remembered Dean had said was Ribs from when they had their day in Houston. She also filled her plate with an ear of corn, potato salad that Meg had made, as well as a piece of flat iron steak.

“Where are you going to put all that food?” Andrea asked.

“Hopefully in my stomach!” Y/N laughed as she took a seat next to Dean.

By strategy, everyone had placed themselves quickly so that Thasman and Roan were sitting across from each other.

“Stingray,” Roan hissed.

It came out as more of a hurtful word than a term of endearment.

Thasman gave him a small glare and in the same tone muttered, “Feenhoom.” (Sea-dragon)

“At least I didn’t spread my fins for a Sesmuna (human) Tala oosoyyo (I don’t know),” Roan huffed and shook his head before digging into his food angrily.

And that’s where the slew of mermish began with Roan and Thasman going back and forth; their speech too fast for anyone other than Y/N to try to follow. The princess sunk in her chair, covering her face as the two mermen jabbed at each other with their words. Meanwhile, the others just watched in both awe and awkwardness as the mermen spit phrase after phrase in their language.

Dean nudged her gently, causing her to take her face out of her hands, “What are they fighting about?” he questioned quietly. Although, a tornado could appear and Thasman and Roan probably wouldn’t notice.

“Roan just called Thasman a man whore, I guess is what you would call it,” Y/N breathed. “They’re mad at the other going off and trying to move on,” she closed her eyes and tried to calm her anger but she could hear the distant sound of thunder rumbling.

The fight continued on, effectively ruining any conversation anyone else was trying to have, and Y/N’s faith and patience on both mermen to fix their issues was wearing extremely thin. She blindly reached out for Dean’s shirt and tugged him close, desperation and anger burning in her eyes.

“Do you have a room we can lock them in?”

“I do but how are we going to get them in there?” Dean whispered looking at the two men who were now standing glaring at one another.

Y/N gave him a grunt of approval, “I got it.”

She stood up from her chair and screamed at both mermen to shut up. Her royal voice shone through and, little by little, Thasman and Roan shrunk in shame. And she was very glad that Dean and the others could not understand a thing of what she had just said.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” Thasman bowed but glared at Roan from the corner of his eyes.

“Toh, Thasman.” Y/N raised a hand to stop the merman from speaking further. She ordered both to follow her inside the house and motioned for Dean to accompany them.

Both men followed behind her with heads bowed, neither seeing the room they were being put in. Y/N stayed by the door with Dean behind her, watching as her friends entered the room.

“Your Highness, please let me--” Thasman shut his mouth when Y/N held her hand up.

“This has gone on long enough,” she snarled. “You both will stay here until you either are friends again or one of you decides it’s best if you leave and go somewhere far away.”

Roan’s eyes widened at the implication, beginning to plead at her not to do this.

Y/N stepped back quickly, “Now, Dean.”

Dean moved quickly and closed the door just as Y/N stepped out. The door was heavy and made of metal and he hoped that keeping them in the spacious garage would be better than a room in his house. Roan rushed to the metal door and banged on it.

“Your Highness, please don’t do this!” Roan called. Silence followed for a few seconds before a small bang and a groan were heard on the other side of the door.

“You okay, buddy?” Dean checked.

“Let us out of here!”

“Absolutely! When you and Thasman talk your problems out.”

With that said, the couple ignored Roan’s pleading and went back to their friends and barbecue. Y/N apologized for the scene that had taken place and was met with reassurances that it was fine. In Cas’ words: “It was a little entertaining to hear them talk in your language.”

An hour later, Dean and Y/N were back outside of the room they had left their friends in, listening for any sign of more yelling. After four full minutes of pressing their ears against the door met by nothing more than hushed whispers,Y/N sent Dean a worried look.

“You think it worked?” Y/N bit her lip.

“I mean, we could always open the door?” Dean suggested.

She gave the thought little consideration as she stepped away from the door and motioned to it, “Do it.”

Dean nodded as he unlocked the door and reached for the handle. Internally counting to three, he opened the door and froze at the scene he saw. There on one of the tables, both their shirts off, Thasman and Roan were pawing at each other. Y/N poked her head and gaped at the scene. Placing her hand on Dean’s, who still had it on the door handle, she pulled the door closed and took in a deep breath.

“I guess we can say that it was successful,” she croaked looking at Dean.

“Mission accomplished, partner,” he chuckled as he raised his hand for a high five.

Y/N reciprocated it and nodded numbly, “Do we just leave them in there? Or…”

“Let’s give them some space. I have a feeling it will take a while for them to come out,” Dean wiggles his eyebrows. “We have ice cream for dessert if you want. Those two getting back together after all that fightin’? We’re celebrating, sweetheart.”

“That sounds like a delicious idea,” she agreed as she walked hand in hand with Dean back out to tell the other’s the good news, leaving Roan and Thasman to rekindle their relationship.

Walking back to their friends, Dean’s phone rang from inside his pocket. Checking the number, he looked at Y/N before giving her a small kiss on her lips.

“I need to take this call, you go ahead and let the other’s know it was a success,” he said, caressing her cheek.

“Okay,” she kissed him again before walking away.

“Ketch!” Dean smiled. “Please tell me you found something on the picture of that dagger I sent you.”

“Honestly,” the british man said, “it’s a real mystery.”

“Really?” Dean glanced out into the back porch where Y/N was laughing at something Benny had said. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I have never seen or heard about anything that remotely resembles the pictures you sent me.”

“Not even the inscriptions?” Dean raised his eyebrow at what his friend was saying. “There has to be some trace of it I mean… you ever heard of a place called Sindarta?”

“The worst part of it was the inscriptions, Winchester.” Ketch retorted. “You think I would be calling you a month late if I had found an answer? There is no language, no writing, scribbling or doodle that even looks like the ones you sent me.”

“I see,” Dean whispered as he looked carefully at Y/N. “Thanks Ketch. If you find anything on it will you call me back?”

“I will,” the man promised. “Is there any way you can send me the actual artifact? Maybe we can have it analyzed here at the university?”

“No can do, Ketch. The dagger isn’t mine.”

“That is a shame,” he sighed. “Would be nice to have something to try and cross reference. But from a picture it is difficult.”

“Yeah,” Dean cleared his throat. “Thanks for calling, Ketch. I owe you one. You ever in Matagorda, I can fix up your car for you. Got my own garage if you ever need me to rebuild the engine on your car.”

“I’ll try to take another look, see if I can find anyone back in England who can help out,” Ketch chuckled. “This will stump them, I’m sure of it.”

“Yeah, I gotta go man,” Dean swallowed the lump in his throat. “Good luck.”

“Thank you, Dean. I’ll call as soon as I have more news.”

Dean hung up his phone and looked out towards the back yard. His eyes were fixed on Y/N, wondering what mysteries the girl had that would result in a completely unknown civilization.

SOOOOOOO WHAT DID Y’ALL THINK?? Our jellyfish are back together! Finally!

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vedj-f-bekuesu · 4 years

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At this point I’m just watching the seasons to keep the momentum going after two great (and one flawed but still okay) seasons. With Friday being a Bank Holiday, I might get the rest of the pre-11 stuff wrapped up by the weekend. But enough of the future, how about the season I watched, Sons of Garmadon?

It had a lot to live up to based on its reputation, and I’m happy to report that it delivers on what it sets out to do. Issues with the season are fairly minor tribbles, but that’s something I can cover in the notes.

-Hoo boy, let’s get this out of the way; the movie did fucking wonders for Lloyd Garmadon. Spending like five seasons stuck to his blander “chosen one must learn” characterisation, this season gives him a very long overdue overhaul into a more modern chosen one protagonist who is way more entertaining to watch. Bonus points for having a look I can take seriously now...yeah, sorry, but the Anakin hairpiece with the strange approach to voice commitment never did for me, even as it became the norm for what I was viewing. -To be honest, his teammates get some good material here too. Some more than others (Zane especially has a really good little arc where he gets to show his more calculating side. Cole’s arc is okay but I don’t feel it quite nails the landing as well), but they all get chance to banter and have character moments, which is mainly what I come into shows for as opposed to straight up development constantly. Shout outs to Jay who has small moments, but important ones that do really good for his character (I could go into why Lloyd and Jay make the most sense as leads...probably after my season watching is done). I also like the callback to a character moment he had in season 3. Also this finally feels like the writers are sticking to characterisation, this season mostly keeping what Hands of Time did with them. Not so much design-wise, but I’ve made it clear many times that I prefer the new designs to old. Also, I get to throw in Pixal as a main character now since she’s clearly on the team full time. She’s good here too. -The dynamics get their own section just because I want to restate how I prefer the dynamic between Jay and Lloyd compared to Kai and Lloyd so far. Seriously, Jay seems to step up to bat for Lloyd more than Kai at this point. And yet no-one really seems to be interested in it within the fandom. -There wasn’t really much in the way of side characters this season (I am aware that next season will change that). Misako was good for what little material she had, Wu was fun and actually became a solid character in his own right once he became a toddler, Dareth is solid and really gets to show his alternative way of helping out, and the police commissioner...eh, better than season 6 but I’m still not big on him. -I can sum up Harumi in one sentence; Skylor but done better on every count (and also evil). She’s engaging when she’s acting as the more humble Princess figure, and she’s nicely hammy when she’s unleashing her evil side. I can see why people would be into Lloyrumi with such a investing act (for the record, I’m not). This all being said, those who say that Harumi had a point are missing one important detail; as much destruction has been caused with the ninjas’ close call; what alternative is there? I don’t see anyone else stepping up to save Ninjago so it would have probably fully fallen a long time ago. And even with the Great Devourer, Lord Garmadon was channelling his good side to deliver a finishing blow, he still needed the ninja there. -We have three other villains and two of them are enjoyable. Ultra-Violet is committed to her crazy shtick and amusing, and Killow is definitely different to how I thought he’d be, but it’s a lot more enjoyable (especially when Garry Chalk is channelling every bit of his Sonic Underground Robotnik voice he can. Kind of like how Clancee was Ian James Corlett channelling a lot of his scrub monkey third class). Mr E can go rust though. -Unlike the other seasons which people cite as dark, this one feels like it does actually go there. It’s not completely a dark season, mostly the end of Jade Princess and scenes between Game of Masks and Big Trouble, Little Ninjago. It was still pretty fun and light-ish hearted outside of that. -Weirdly enough, most of my quibbles are on the technical side. People cite this season as having the best animation...but I don’t really see it. In terms of visuals it’s a step up, but the actual animation doesn’t feel that different to Hands of Time. They learned to use flashier graphics everywhere. Which is probably why the intro is the way it is, and I’m sorry but this is probably my least favourite intro. I can’t appreciate the spectacle when focusing on anything is difficult to achieve. On top of that, there were still some glaring graphical fuck-ups (like when Cole is shown with the other ninja in a scene where he was captured, or when Lloyd was shown with green eyes in a shot despite being drained of power at that point), which aren’t really any different to the ones Prime Empire has. -The pacing of the season wasn’t entirely smooth, but unlike other seasons it’s not like one set issue. It’s more like a concertina effect; it was very quick at first, then slows down, then speeds up again, then slows down, then finally hits an even tempo about halfway through. This is why I didn’t mention the likes of Hutchins, the parents or the Mechanic before; because of the pace, you don’t really get enough time to really get attached to them (doesn’t help that the Mechanic has Alan Marriott doing the voice in his cameo, and man does it not fit compared to Skybound. I’m glad when the Mechanic got more substantial stuff they went back to his original VA, that voice is so fun). -My other big thing is actually the complete continuity snarl that’s Harumi’s backstory makes. They’ve thrown in so many random events over the seasons but because of the sheer vagueness of the timescales it doesn’t really break suspension of disbelief. But Harumi’s turn to darkness is clearly during the ending of season 1, which we have a much more tangible sense of time for. Harumi seems like she’s about 8-10 then, the ninja seem like they were 14-15 then, Harumi seems like she’s 15-18 now but the showrunner still insist that the ninja are teenagers? How does that work, the most generous allowance for time is five years, and that would barely make them still teenagers in season 8. Certainly don’t believe they could be teenagers as of the most recent seasons. -On a completely different tangent, can we talk about the toilet humour? Yeah, it’s not like it’s never been there (there’s been poop jokes, fart jokes, halitosis jokes, and who can forget that one utterly cringe scene in S3?), but Hands of Time and Sons of Garmadon do it in a way that just comes off as really weird compared to earlier toilet humour. Like, there’s the implication by Jay in season 7 that Kai has issues with constipation, Cole’s truth tea dose forces him to say that he pees in the pool, and then there’s Kai, right to Harumi’s face, all but saying that Jay has issues with peeing himself. Her reaction to it is fucking hilarious, but it’s still weird, even though knowing Vincent Tong he would totally do that.

Overall, this was a great season, and it’s clear to see how this became such a draw to the series (meaning in hindsight, LEGO’s method of dealing with the new style was pretty much a winner). The issues I have don’t stop the quality being across the board. Aside from Possession, I think this may be a favourite season from the pre-11 stuff.

Next time, we effectively get the second part to this story. Yep, it ended in a cliffhanger so we’ve hardly wrapped it up here. Time to see how the OG ninja and newer recruits handle themselves alone in Hunted.

#ninjago #ns8 #VEDJ-F talks #vedj-f reviews #cole cannot sing sorry

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nomadmanager · 7 years

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Getting Out Of An Extended Funk + A Reviewed and Revised (About) Me

When shit happens, we, people (especially the religious ones) tend to tell ourselves that what we go through in life is all part of some cosmic plan of God / the universe to teach us something, or make us stronger, more resilient people, or that everything in life happens for a reason, or that when one door closes another window opens.

I tend to think that this is a natural human response to feeling better or consoling one’s self so we can move forward more productively, even when it really seems as if just not making certain mistakes in the first place would have been a more practical, productive use of resources. Sometimes the universe has a funny way of teaching us things. And the only way out is through.

When I look back at my past year and a half, although it’s definitely had its share of highlights, it seems marked by more frequent periods akin to torpor.

Torpor : a state of decreased physiological and mental activity in an animal, usually by a lowering of body temperature and metabolic depression. Torpor enables animals to survive periods of reduced food availability.

I wouldn’t go out to say that I was depressed in the clinical sense, because I hate how that term gets thrown around loosely, which I feel diminishes the experience of and empathy for those who actually struggle with depression. (Though I may have benefited from seeing a therapist regardless.)

However, I had notable dips in energy and increased lethargy and feelings of being demotivated. I supposed it was normal, part of the trough of sorrow many founders face, except that my energy dips seemed to happen more frequently in spite of my “interventions” (both planned and unplanned) like traveling, decluttering, meditation, etc.

I think the hardest thing about the past year and a half was all the uncertainty in my life.

My boat sailed where the winds blew, and I did little to navigate the course because I didn’t know where I was going. I no longer knew what I wanted. And for a while, I was okay with just being lost out at sea. Eventually though, the waves, the cold, relentless rain and wind, the lack of fresh water and greens, will drive you mad if land remains nowhere in sight.

Lessons from Vipassana A Year After

On this same day last year, I was ending a 10-day Vipassana Meditation Retreat, and I felt ready to go back into society. We had zero outside contact: no phones, no wi-fi, no talking to fellow retreat-goers, and even no writing/journaling.

The retreat was something I was looking forward to, to both shut out the noise from the outside world, and go deeper into my own thoughts, free of the usual responsibilities or obligations we have to face as members of society. In a way, one may call it escapism, but others might actually say it’s getting more in touch with your own reality - what you actually want and care for if you didn’t feel the rest of the world breathing down your neck.

Here’s some of the stuff I took away from then:

The Art of Dying is the Art of Living. Always been a fan of this philosophy since I was younger. So it just echoed it more.

Non-attachment ≠ No goals / ambition The thing that always baffled me about Buddhist philosophy since I encountered it in my college days was how could it be applied in a modern society obsessed with productivity / success / KRAs (Key Result Areas) / KPIs (Key Performance Indicators). It’s become clearer to me that it’s more about have goals in place but not causing one’s self and others extreme misery or wanting to go kill one’s self just because certain ideals were not met.

Non-attachment = Everything changes (impermanence) Shit happens. Move on. Good things don’t always stay that way. That’s life.

You learn a lot by observing people in silence. It was as much an introspective experience as it was an anthropological experience for me. I’d forgotten how amusing it was to observe people like that. And you can tell a lot about people by how they act in that environment.

Silence is sacred. We always tend to have some sort of media on, whether it’s checking Facebook or Instagram, listening to some music, watching TV, going to the movies, or listening to podcasts. But we need to conscious of our consumption of all that media all the time too, and not be obsessed either being hyper-productive all the time, or drowning out our own thoughts with all these distractions during possible pockets of silence.

It is amazing what you can do with strong, yet detached determination.

Read more: • 100 hours in 10 days: Getting Ready + FAQs about my Vipassana Meditation Marathon • Going Inside Out: Melancholia and the Entrepreneur-Changemaker’s Dilemma (Funnily, both these highly introspective articles were written in the month of August in 2016 and 2015 respectively.)

The lessons I wrote from meditation back then are amusing, and just as relevant to read right now. Particularly the lessons on non-attachment and the art of living.

How do we move past pain and regret? Forgiveness and self-love. And the knowledge that this suffering is impermanent. How do we move forward with more purpose and meaning? Clarity.

Easier said than done. :) But I’ve been trying.

I’ve begun writing more, meditating more (aided with the Calm app that I've actually been paying for since June this year), talking to more people again about ideas for future non-consultancy-related projects (which I’ve managed to avoid for over a year). I’ve also begun to plan again beyond the next few months, and actually plan for a year in advance, because that’s how it has to be if I want to grow what I do at Muni.

Regaining Control, Direction & Navigating Life

Being not typically a planner myself, the spontaneous, free spirit that I am, the idea of planning a year ahead can be somewhat stifling or suffocating. However, it is this same quality of mine that inhibits longer term success because I can’t commit to something. Whether it be because I fear failing, or somehow, paradoxically fear the implication of success.

Whatever the case may be, the hardest part of the past year and a half was having no land in sight, and having others at the helm of my vessel. It was enough to drive a person mad.

I couldn’t make plans if I didn’t know where I was going to be. And it was emasculating to feel like you didn’t even have the power to make some of those decisions for yourself because they were dependent on the approval of others, whether in the areas of love, work/purpose, or family/health.

Now, it seems like I have a simpler decision-making process to deal with, and a smaller area of focus: work/purpose, since the other areas have somehow sorted themselves out (thanks, impermanence).

I’m shaping my life to be what I want it to be, and while I still have a feeling of Impostor Syndrome, I’m more confidently just doing what I will, ‘til I become what I want to be. I’ve already been on this journey for a while, and in spite of detours and winding roads, I’m beginning to see how things are slowly, steadily coming to place.

You can now check out my revised my About page to see where I am, and where I’m headed, including a career path I was somehow forging but didn’t fully embrace until now. :)

#aboutme #nomad manager #jen horn #note to self #torpor #hibernation #aestivation #fear of failure #fear of success #impostor syndrome

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