#maybe ive been too rude in the way i went about it but now that i think abt it ive been ridiculously patient with her

[salsflore]

[toournextadventure]

our little secret iii

Summary: All four of you lost the bet, and now it's time to pay up. Thankfully, Maxine and Bobby-Lynn know just how to make sure Lorraine has to pay up too.

Word Count: 8.9k Warnings: swearing, smut 18+, religious talk (typical of southern states), religious trauma, period-typical homophobia Pairing: Lorraine Day x Fem!Reader (our little secret i) (our little secret ii) (our little secret iii) (our little secret iv)

“This ain’t sittin’ right with me,” you whispered to Beau as you tried, once again, to get comfortable in the back of RJ’s van.

Despite your best attempts, you, Beau, and Huck were currently sitting with Lorraine’s crew on the way to a location. It had been agreed by everyone - except you, obviously - that you had all lost the bet, so you should all have to own up. Although you still found it profoundly unfair that Lorraine somehow got out unscathed from the entire thing that she had agreed to.

And now you were stuck in the back of a hot, sweaty van with a bunch of hot, sweaty people that were one camera away from having relations for pay.

“We all lost, we all pay up,” Beau whispered back even as he smiled at Maxine. You rolled your eyes; he was such a suck up.

“Lorraine ain’t gotta pay up,” you grumbled, but settled back in your spot anyway.

Admittedly, you were being rather rude. You had barely said hello to any of them, and you hadn’t talked to them since the trip had started. It wasn’t their fault though, it was entirely on you. You just… didn’t know what to say to them. This wasn’t your world, and it was completely overwhelming. You didn’t care what any of them did for a living, but you hadn’t expected to be a part of it.

And if Jackson didn’t quit staring at you, you were going to lose your mind.

“You look awful familiar,” Jackson said with the slightest tilt of his head. He never stopped rubbing Bobby-Lynn’s thighs.

“Ever been a few hours south of Houston?” You asked, shifting in your spot to bring your knees up to your chest.

“Don’t believe I have,” he said with a shrug.

“Must just be a resemblance, then,” you answered.

“Leave her be,” Bobby-Lynn said as she playfully smacked Jackson’s chest. “Can’t you see you’re making her uncomfortable?”

“Do we make you uncomfortable, sweetheart?” Jackson asked.

Oh. Oh, yeah, that was very uncomfortable.

“You were in ‘Nam, right?” Beau asked, thankfully pulling the attention away from you. You supposed he was good for something.

“Yes sir,” Jackson said with a smile, pulling his dog tags out from under his shirt. “Two tours.”

“North or South?” Beau continued. Okay, maybe you didn’t want to hear so much about this anymore.

“South.”

“Y/N’s brother was in South Vietnam,” Huck chimed in. “Maybe that’s where you recognise her.”

Oh, you wanted them both to shut up. You wanted them both to hush right that instant. You looked up and instantly met Lorraine’s eyes from across the van. She was still sitting beside RJ, going over the script and whatever else she usually did. But there was the smallest tug at the corner of her mouth when she looked at you.

I hate you, you mouthed, to which her smile grew before she went back to the script.

“What’s your brother’s name, sweetheart?” Jackson asked, pulling you back into the conversation that you desperately wished would end.

Although you liked the adorable little frown Lorraine sent Jackson’s way at the use of the little nickname. Maybe you were okay with talking with Jackson. If it could get Lorraine’s feathers ruffled, then it was worth it. It was about time the tables were turned.

“Roy,” you said. “Roy Y/L/N.”

“No shit,” Jackson said. “I served with that son of a bitch.”

“Seriously?” You pulled your knees up to your chest and leaned forward. “Which tour?”

“My first,” he said with a smile.

You smiled back. “So you knew him before he…” your voice trailed off into nothing as your eyes slowly lowered to the floor of the van and your smile fell.

Before he went crazy. But you couldn’t say that out loud, could you? Your daddy had done his best to make sure you all knew not to mention Roy’s “affliction.” A test from God, he had called it. He used it as nothing more than a piss poor excuse to remind everyone that that’s what happens when you fall from faith. What would he say about you?

You just kept your mouth shut and rested your chin on your knees.

“He caught the combat trauma,” Huck said in a far softer tone than Beau ever could have managed.

“Now that’s a shame,” Jackson said with a shake of his head.

“Heard it happens more than you think,” Maxine called out from the front seat. It was probably the first thing you had heard from her since… Well, it was the first thing you had heard. “They all come home different.”

Oh, you weren’t so sure you liked this.

“You can’t come back different,” Bobby-Lynn said with a humourless chuckle. “Besides, it ain’t even real, is it?”

“They said it is,” Maxine continued, finally turning around to face everyone. “Put it in their little book last year, called it PTSD or somethin’ like that.”

You didn’t like this topic at all. The hair on the back of your neck stood up and your grip around your knees tightened. They didn’t get to talk about this like it was nothing of impact to you. Hadn’t they just heard Huck say Roy had this… this combat trauma? And they were going to act like nothing was wrong?

Everyone around you continued to talk about this new PTSD thing that was starting to make its rounds. It felt like someone was watching you. Without lifting your head, you looked up and were instantly met with Lorraine staring at you with that look that she had never grown out of. A look that she gave you every time you would be forced to talk about Beau as if he were the love of your life. A look of pity. 

And you hated pity.

“Hey,” Jackson said, a little softer than everyone else’s ongoing conversation. He nudged your foot with his to get you to look over. “If you want me to talk to him, man to man, just let me know.”

His smile was more genuine than you had seen from a stranger in a long time. But there was no comfort in it because his offer was empty. You had no doubt he was being genuine, but how were you going to invite him over and have him talk to Roy without Daddy figuring out? The times were changing, but Jackson was a… certain type of man that you knew Daddy would never happily allow in his home. You and Roy were already scourges upon his land - though he still didn’t know your secret - so how could you possibly invite Jackson over with a clear conscience?

“Thank you,” you said instead, your smile far more convincing than your own thoughts.

The rest of the trip was, by all accounts, uneventful. That blasphemous talk of trauma and war had changed when Lorraine decided it was time to talk about the script. And even as she and RJ went over everything with their stars, and you were faced with the reality that you were truly, painfully alone, you still felt some sort of peace.

You would almost go so far as to say you felt comfortable.

Until you got to the shooting location.

“Are you serious?” You whisper-yelled at Lorraine when you both got out of the van. “You should have told me.”

“Would you have come?” She shot back, quickly shooting a fake smile to Beau and Huck when they passed. “Besides, we’re usin’ the building beside it.”

“You’re full of shit,” you mumbled as you looked up at the steeple of the small chapel.

By all accounts, it was a splendid little church. With a single steeple at the front of the roof and an elevated cross in the back, it almost reminded you of the one at home. Double doors that doubtlessly opened into a small worship room that held eight pews at most before ascending into the podium. A setup not unlike your own church back home, except this one didn’t house the guilt you couldn’t shed.

Beside the church was the parsonage, looking just as you knew them to look. Small, a little run down, painted a white that felt forced upon the environment. The paint was chipped and the window shutters were slightly askew, but it seemed to fit the rather bleak landscape behind it. Not ugly, but not exactly pretty either.

“Whatcha think?” Wayne asked. You jumped, but quickly regained composure. “Ain’t she pretty?”

“It looks cozy,” you said with a shrug. “You’re filmin’ in the parsonage, right? Not the church?”

Wayne laughed. A big hearty laugh that reminded you of all the sweet older men out at the rodeos. The ones that told you you were being ridiculous, but they were going to do their best not to openly tell you. It was a joyous laugh that was both humiliating and comforting simultaneously.

“I nearly forgot Church Mouse said you were a preacher,” he said once his laughter had subsided enough for him to talk.

“Church Mouse?” You asked.

“We’re usin’ the parsonage,” he continued, practically ignoring your question. “We’re not intendin’ to disrespect you.”

He clapped you on the shoulder and cocked his hip. You could see why Lorraine liked him. Overconfident, cocky as hell, but his smile always seemed genuine. Somehow, some way, he had seemed to be in a good mood the entire trip and even now. Optimism at its finest. You wished you could match it.

“Although I do have a favour to ask you,” Wayne said, his voice carrying a lilt that had your stomach churning.

“Yes?” You asked even though you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to know.

“Think you can pray over this little set of ours?” He asked. “Help us break this bad streak we got goin’ on?”

“Oh,” you said with a huff, followed by a nervous chuckle. “Oh, I can do that then.”

Wayne smiled with his teeth and tipped his hat. “Thank ya kindly.”

You kept your eyes trained on the doors of the chapel while Wayne walked away, presumably to help set up whatever it was he was needing to set up. You could pray over the set. It was a little blasphemous to use prayer for something so… risque, but you weren’t a prude. After all, Daddy had always said everyone could use a little prayer.

The handle on the door was a beautiful polished silver; spare no expense for a house of God, of course. Hypocrites, the lot of them. But it was nice to open the doors without even the slightest resistance. Nothing was more terrifying than a run down church with creaky doors. It was like walking into a horror movie.

Your boots echoed off the empty wooden walls of the chapel as you walked down the center aisle, taking in everything about the building. It was a rather beautiful church, you wouldn’t try to deny it. A single, small stained glass window hung above the podium. It would cast a beautiful coloured light where the preacher would be standing on Sunday mornings.

There were three steps up to the podium before you stood behind the lectern and looked out onto the ghostly congregation. Not a single soul was inside the building, but from your spot above the room, you could feel the eyes on you. Momma, Roy, Jimmy. Granma and Granpa were in the back, followed by friends, family, everyone in the congregation that knew you excruciatingly well.

Then there was Daddy, sitting in the aisle of the front pew, watching you with that judgmental look. The one that he gave when he was condemning someone to hell for their sins. And he was looking at you, like he could see through your physical form, all the way to the filthy soul you hid underneath it all.

“You can’t wash away sin,” Daddy said.

You couldn’t breathe.

“I don’t-”

“-There you are.”

The entire congregation disappeared as soon as you saw Lorraine standing in the doorway. Light from the setting sun illuminated her outline, almost a perfect copy of the angel painted above the doorway. And she was. She was an angel, one that you would worship even as you were cast into the pits of hell.

“Thought we lost you,” Lorraine said as she walked down the aisle with far more confidence than she had at home.

Your breath caught in your throat when she finally stepped out of the light in a startling white dress. It looked far too close to a wedding dress. It didn’t make sense, but you couldn’t quit staring. She looked so beautiful. Her smile was illuminating; it left your palms sweaty and your chest hurt-

-you gasped and pulled your hand away from the wooden lectern. The smallest splinter was stuck in your right index finger. It was easy enough to pull out, leaving behind a scarlet drop of blood that grew until dripping down your finger.

“Are you alright?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but when you looked back up Lorraine was in normal clothes. The very same ones she had worn on the trip over. The one she had never changed out of. Right. Maybe you really were crazy.

“I’m fine,” you said with a simple nod. “Just-” you sighed “-doin’ what Wayne asked.”

“Didn’t think he was a praying man,” she said with a frown. “Want some company?”

“Yeah,” you said with a soft smile. “Yeah, I do.”

As you walked down to the bottom of the three steps to meet Lorraine, the blood from your finger smeared across the finely polished wood. You left a stain on that church, same as your own. A stain that, as your Daddy constantly preached, you could never wash away.

—---

“You’re lookin’ a little green, sweetheart,” Huck whispered as he walked up to where you were standing in the back of the room.

“I’m not green,” you whispered back even as you continued to watch the scene unfold before you. “I just- I didn’t know the body could do that.”

“You’re such a preacher’s kid,” he said with a teasing lilt. Thankfully that was all he said before he crossed his arms over his chest and looked forward.

It wasn’t your first time seeing people having sex. You weren’t a complete fool, you had seen it before. Kind of. Okay, maybe it was the most tame sex in the world, but you had seen it! And you weren’t some sort of virgin either, so you weren’t totally in the dark. But you certainly hadn’t seen this before and it was… fascinating.

And a little concerning. Your head tilted. How did it even fit? Did Bobby-Lynn even genuinely find it enjoyable? Well, okay, after that noise you could believe that maybe she did. But all that other stuff, there was no way. No way at all- wait, that actually looked interesting. You wondered if Lorraine would like that.

"You're starin'," Huck whispered.

"I can't help it," you shot back. "It's like when you pass a car wreck. You can't look away."

"I think they would die if they heard you compare watchin' smut to a car wreck," he laughed. It was a little loud, you hoped the boom mic wouldn't pick it up.

"Where's your little boy toy?" You asked, hoping to take the awkward attention away from yourself. Even though you still couldn't look away from the scene. God, you hoped it was over soon.

"Your boyfriend," he said pointedly, "is downstairs talkin' with Maxine."

Oh Maxine. You had only known her for a few days, but you were starting to think she enjoyed stirring up trouble. Within moments of getting set up in the parsonage, she had made friendly with Huck and Beau. A little too friendly. You would have laughed about the whole situation if you hadn’t been attempting to act jealous to keep up the facade.

“Reckon I should go act the part of the jealous girlfriend, huh?” You asked.

“Yeah you should,” he whispered. “Though I doubt anyone will believe it with the way you’re watching your dear Rainey over there.”

You hated him for even bringing it up. So what if you had stopped watching Bobby-Lynn and instead watched Lorraine? The way she gently blew a few strands of hair out of her face while she held the boom mic as steady as you had ever seen. She wasn’t muscular by any means, but you could still see the tone in her shoulders. Or the… the little crinkle between her brows when she focused…

Okay, Huck was right, you needed to leave.

“Told you,” he said as you backed out of the room with a hellish heat in your cheeks.

As soon as the door closed behind you and the pornographic sounds muted, you could finally breathe again. Your mind was clear and you could walk down the stairs without a thought in your head. Well… maybe you had one or two thoughts, but it was okay. You could repent later at the chapel.

Maxine’s laughter was… almost adorable, if she wasn’t trying so hard to seduce Beau. Her nails lazily scratched up and down his bicep, and her face was embarrassingly close to his ear. If you had loved him the way you were supposed to, you would’ve been furious. Should have been furious.

You pictured Lorraine in Beau’s position. Sitting there with Maxine all over her, laughing at the unfunny jokes, leaning a little too close. It made your stomach turn. Your skin was hot and clammy and something pounded inside your head, screaming to be let out. There would have been no shame in your body for grabbing her and dragging her away.

Okay, there you go. Now you had the right feelings.

Your mind had already forgotten Lorraine wasn’t there when you sat in Beau’s lap. Like a good girlfriend should do, you wrapped your arms around his neck and held him close, inhaling his scent. Sawdust. Something you supposed other women liked, which made him a downright tease.

“How’s your first smut viewin’ goin’?” Maxine asked, which instinctively had your nose scrunch before you regained composure. “That good, huh?”

“It ain’t bad,” you said. “Don’t think I really understand the appeal, though.”

“What part is… unappealing to you?” She asked, her voice far softer than necessary. 

The way she leaned in closer, trailing her eyes over every inch of you… and maybe you could see the appeal. It was something about her hand that had moved from Beau’s arm to yours. Soft. Almost too soft, but you didn’t want it to stop. And she held eye contact like it was an art-

-oh, Maxine was dangerous.

“Oh,” Maxine said with a small smile, “so that’s what it is.”

What was that supposed to mean? You opened your mouth to ask, but the stairs started creaking from the heavy footsteps. The skin underneath Maxine’s fingers felt terribly cold when she pulled back. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t pull back before Lorraine appeared, her brows furrowed and eyes glued to her coworker.

Maxine just smiled.

“Am I interrupting somethin’?” Lorraine asked. Anyone that didn’t know her well would have missed the slight elevation in her tone. A dangerous tone.

“Just learnin’ a bit about each other,” Maxine said. Her hand rested on your arm again and you felt a heat in your cheeks. “Since we’re stuck here together and all.”

Like the dutiful girlfriend, you hid your head in Beau’s neck and tried to ignore his slight shake of silent laughter.

That tension didn’t end even as the sun set and stars came out to play. Everyone relaxed and had their fun and it reminded you of nights with just the four of you. Laughing, teasing, seeing Huck and Beau get closer than when they were at your house. Not too close, but it was still enough. Hell, it was almost enough to ease the usual anger from Lorraine being with R.J.

Until a few days later when it was time for everyone to start paying up on their lost bets.

The days had already started off miserably. Since you were “officially” Beau’s girlfriend, you were set to share a bed with him. But when Huck snuck in and you all tried to fit three people on a twin size mattress? Well, that was just borderline impossible. Clearly it wasn’t fully impossible, seeing as how you all made it work, but that didn’t mean you actually slept at all through the night.

Tack onto that Lorraine and R.J. coming down at the same time each morning, and you realised that you were horribly, terribly alone? You would have killed someone to get even just a single blanket and a big empty spot on the floor. Let you lie like a dog while everyone else became stars.

The first to suffer was, of course, you. Now, you would admit, you had offered to pay up first. In your convoluted train of thought, the sooner you watched Lorraine’s scene, the sooner you could forget it. At least that was what you believed would happen. You hoped that’s what would happen.

But in the moment, as you watched Lorraine getting ready, you knew it wouldn’t be quite that simple. You had to watch her move, see the look on her face, listen to her moans. She certainly never sounded like that when you were with her. Was this something that she genuinely enjoyed? Were you nothing more than a pleasant distraction when she was practically forced to go back home?

“I can’t do this,” you whispered to yourself. 

The hair on the back of your neck stood up as everyone watched you back out of the room, practically tripping over your own feet in your haste. Each step felt like the ground was rushing up to meet you, even as you stayed perfectly upright. You wished you would just trip down the stairs, maybe then it would ease the spiraling of your thoughts.

Downstairs wasn’t much better when you were still aware of exactly what was going on upstairs. Did you mean anything to her? Really, truly? Surely you did, Lorraine was hardheaded, she wouldn’t entertain your presence if she didn’t want you there. On the other hand, she kept RJ around for nothing, so maybe you were on the same level.

You picked up one of the books you had found the other day; some book called The Dead Sea Scriptures. It wasn’t all that fantastic, your daddy actually had a copy in his office at the church. But at least it was a distraction. Just like you. Okay, that certainly wasn’t helpful. Maybe you needed a stiff drink too.

The Hollywood grade acting you did was enough to convince everyone you were just peachy. No one batted an eye when RJ, Wayne, and Jackson left the parsonage after finishing Lorraine’s scene. To get some more groceries, they had said. You didn’t care, it really didn’t matter one way or another where they went.

“So,” Maxine said as she sat down beside you on the couch. Well, she practically sat on you. “You’ve got some explainin’ to do.”

“I’m not explainin’ the book of Job,” you said without looking up from your book. “Jackson already believes there’s a dragon in it and I can’t have that argument again.”

“Not about that, silly,” she said; her hand was hot on your knee. “About you bein’ a third wheel.”

Oh you were not getting into that kind of conversation with Maxine. The past few days had been wonderful, and truthfully you had enjoyed it. They were all a bit… extravagant, but they were kind. As odd as it sounded to you, they felt more like family than most of your own family. You could see why Lorraine spent so much time with them even when she didn’t have to.

But you enjoying their company did not mean you wanted to get into the whole relationship conversation with Maxine.

“Your boys are some of those queers, huh?” She asked. “That’s why they’re up there filmin’ some fake scene while you’re down here.” Her hand squeezed right above your knee. “Readin’ some nerdy little book.”

“It was a bet,” you said. “We’ve always paid up, ever since we were little.” She smirked. “And my book ain’t nerdy.”

“It bother you that you gotta share your man?” She asked, as if you hadn’t even said anything in the first place.

“I-”

“-did you really start without me?” Bobby-Lynn asked when she appeared in the downstairs living room.

You did your best to conceal your displeasure when Bobby-Lynn practically ran over to sit on the other side of you. Her legs were bare, her denim shorts barely covering any part of her. She swung them over your own legs quickly, leaving you officially trapped underneath the both of them. You would’ve been lying if you said it didn’t make your stomach flip.

“How far did ya get?” Bobby-Lynn asked. She was practically bouncing in excitement.

“We just started,” Maxine answered with a smile that would have made you squirm if you weren’t so focused on trying to figure out what was going on.

“Don’t y’all have scenes to shoot?” You asked in a desperate attempt to get them to leave you alone before they really got started.

“Don’t you have someone you should be thinkin’ about?” Maxine asked.

You opened your mouth instinctively, ready to argue, especially when Bobby-Lynn continued to lean closer. They both had some nerve to believe they could catch you off guard with their interrogation that was only just beginning. They had known you for, what, all of a few days? And still they thought they could get something like this out of you? They were pornstars, not detectives.

“Of course I’m thinkin’ about her-”

-maybe they were detectives.

You threw your head back against the couch, a groan leaving your lips. On either side of you, both women practically cheered, giving each other a high-five. It was disgusting, were you nothing more than a pawn in whatever game they were playing? Your daddy was right; couldn’t trust sinners.

You actively ignored the fact that you were one of them.

“Why the long face, sweetheart?” Bobby-Lynn asked.

“It’s not like we couldn’t tell,” Maxine said.

What was that supposed to mean? How did they even notice? As far as you could remember, you hadn’t even spent hardly any time in the same room as Lorraine. How could they get some sort of scandal out of that? Let alone the fact you thought you had said maybe three words to her after she had helped you pray over set on that first day. No, none of that made sense.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” you said as you finally pulled yourself back upright, ignoring that Maxine’s and Bobby-Lynn’s faces were so close to yours they could kiss your cheeks if they wanted.

“You think every girl is fine with their boyfriend hookin’ up with another guy?” Bobby-Lynn asked.

You knew that would be the issue. You knew it, and you had told all three of them that it was shady at best. There was no logical reason for it, even if it was from some stupid bet. It may have been the 80s, but not everyone was as easy going as the four of you were. Not everyone was as understanding, and though that wasn’t the current issue, it still played its part.

“Not to mention all the lookin’ you’ve been doin’,” Bobby-Lynn chimed in. “You certainly ain’t lookin’ at Beau that way.”

“I-” you closed your mouth just as quickly as you had opened it. What were you going to say to argue? What could you say?

“Honey, we ain’t judgin’,” Maxine said. Her hand felt warm on your neck. She was far too close for comfort. “But this whole thing is pretty sad.”

“It ain’t that sad,” you pitifully attempted to argue.

“Darlin’, it’s downright painful,” Bobby-Lynn said. Her going back and forth with Maxine was giving you whiplash. “Ain’t never seen anyone pine like that.”

“It’s a bit pathetic,” Maxine said.

“Hey,” you said, your eyebrows instantly furrowing. “Hold your horses, that’s unnecessary.”

“Don’t be gettin’ so defensive,” Bobby-Lynn said with a smile that was to die for. “We’re here to help.”

“By throwin’ my self-esteem out the window?” You asked.

“Oh no,” Maxine said with a slowly growing smile, “it’s much better than that.”

This time, when your stomach twisted into knots again, you didn’t feel quite so dreadful about the upcoming plans.

—---

After Bobby-Lynn and Maxine had told you about their sneaky little plan, the parsonage had felt a little less like a prison. When all the guys got back and everyone finished upstairs, you almost felt at peace. There was still the lingering tension when both Lorraine and RJ were in the room, but you could work with it. And for once, you didn’t feel quite so bad when you met Lorraine’s eyes.

“How many scenes we got left?” Wayne asked when everyone settled downstairs for supper.

In a very selfless move, you had offered to cook. It certainly wasn’t because you didn’t want to have to look at anyone while Bobby-Lynn and Maxine got to work on their plan. That would have been selfish, and you were nothing if not a good, selfless, Christian girl.

“Only two or three, we can finish them tomorrow,” RJ said from his spot beside Lorraine on the couch.

“Me and Maxine have an addition to make,” Bobby-Lynn said.

“An addition?” Wayne asked. “What kind?”

“Well,” Maxine said, drawing out the word for longer than necessary, “we were thinkin’ our little Preacher would look awful pretty on her knees.”

“Excuse me?” Lorraine asked.

Suddenly, the food you were cooking required the utmost attention. It would be quite the shame if you burned something. After all, everyone back there was working rather hard on their scenes, they deserved a good meal, didn’t they? And if it gave you an excuse to not see the look on Lorraine’s face then, well, that’s just an added bonus.

“Fitting, ain’t it?” Bobby-Lynn asked.

“And we’d take good care of her,” Maxine drawled. Oh, they were really testing the waters.

It seemed to be working.

“She’s not part of this,” Lorraine said.

“Wouldn’t be such a bad idea,” RJ said. “Might draw more attention to the film.”

“It’s smut, RJ,” she continued, “it draws enough attention on its own.”

“Well hold on now, let’s talk this out,” Wayne said.

Everyone started talking - except, you noticed, for Maxine - and you almost wanted to laugh. If you had known this was all it would take to get Lorraine on edge, you would’ve said something like this ages ago. It sounded like she didn’t even care that RJ was in the room. It was… a nice feeling.

“Did you plan this?” Beau asked, suddenly appearing beside you.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” you said softly with a shrug. “Everyone here has a mind of their own.”

“Well keep it up,” he said as he rested his hand on the small of your back, “because I think it’s workin’.”

“The answer’s no,” Lorraine said.

“Well why don’t we ask her?” Bobby-Lynn said.

Silence fell over the room quickly; it was suffocating. If you could have, you would have slunk away to the room you shared with the boys. Even before turning around you could feel everyone’s eyes on you. Maybe, if you were really lucky, you could get away without actually answering the question.

That possibility was struck down the moment you turned your head to look out into the room.

Lorraine was looking at you expectantly, most likely believing she knew what you were going to say. In any other situation, she would have been right. You wanted no one but her, and everyone was more than aware of it. Well, everyone but Wayne, RJ, and potentially Jackson. Though judging by the way Jackson was looking at you, he knew too.

“Might be fun,” you said with a shrug and turned back around. “I can always repent next door.”

“Are you serious?” Lorraine asked.

At that you turned back around and leaned your hip against the counter. Was she really going to question you? After what she did for a living? Not once had you ever judged her for it, you had even helped her make light of it when she felt guilt creeping in. She had the nerve to question you?

“Like a heart attack, honey,” you said with far more confidence than you felt.

The look Lorraine gave you was deadly.

“Seems we got our answer,” Maxine said.

Lorraine missed the look she gave Bobby-Lynn.

—---

You hadn’t been asleep for long when the door of your room creaked open. Part of you wished it would have stayed closed; it was the first night you weren’t sleeping on the floor while Huck and Beau took the bed. Maxine was becoming a godsend; she’s the one who had convinced the boys to sleep in the van outside.

“Are you asleep?” Lorraine asked quietly after the door had clicked shut.

“Yes,” you said even as you sat up and looked at her.

She was in the nightgown you remembered getting her for her birthday. Her other one had been so old, there was no way it had even been comfy anymore. Not to mention she had made sure to let you know at every opportunity how badly she needed a new one. Clearly RJ hadn’t listened, so you had gotten it yourself. It was mighty cute, if you did say so yourself.

Lorraine tip-toed her way to the bed, whispering a quick “scoot over” before crawling underneath the covers with you. Even though the temperature outside was mild, her feet were freezing. Which she made sure to make you aware of when she stuck them against your legs, her smile taking over when you yelped and shivered.

“Were you serious about doin’ a scene with Bobby-Lynn and Max?” She asked as she reached out to force her folded hands between yours. She was freezing all over.

“Depends,” you said even as you started trying to warm up her hands. “Were you bein’ serious about tellin’ me no?”

“Of course I was,” she said indignantly.

“Then so was I,” you said.

Lorraine groaned. “You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack,” you said just as quickly.

Even though you weren’t serious at all. That was never the actual plan. The plan was simply to get Lorraine jealous enough to come into the room and, what would you know, that’s exactly what she had done. Even if absolutely nothing else happened, you would be happy. At least you got to spend a night with her without having to keep it a total secret.

“Why would you want to do this?” She asked. “It’s not like you don’t know how it works.”

“Maybe I want to learn a few things,” you said with as much of a shrug as you could do lying on your side.

“What could you possibly learn from smut?” Lorraine asked. “It’s all fake.”

“Were all those noises you made fake?” You asked. “Cause you never do that with me.”

The look on her face was almost offensive. Her eyes lit up like she was in on some little secret. Was she really going to laugh at you? She never laughed at you, not even when she rightfully should. Her hand now cupping your jaw was not enough to distract from the fact she was laughing.

“Is that what you’re worried about?” She asked. “You think I don’t like havin’ sex with you?”

“Not that you don’t like it,” you said quickly. “Just that,” you sighed, “you don’t like it as much.”

Her thumb brushed against your bottom lip. “You make me feel things none of those guys could even dream of.”

“Well you have to say that now,” you said as you leaned further into her hand. “Otherwise I wouldn’t let you put your cold feet on me.”

Her smile slipped to something a little different, a bit more seductive. You didn’t put up any resistance as she used her elbow to push your shoulder until you were laying on the bed. With the same ease as you had seen numerous times, she followed, her legs on either side of you and her weight resting comfortable on top of you. A position you very much loved, even without the arousal that came with it.

“Is there any way I can convince you not to film tomorrow?” Lorraine asked, lowering her tone in such a way that had you squirming underneath her. “What can I do?”

God you were pathetic, she hadn’t even touched you yet.

It was supposed to be a simple question, but you took it to heart. Of course she could convince you, you weren’t planning on filming anyway, but what could you get out of this arrangement? There had to be something you truly wanted, especially now that you had some sort of leverage.

Ah. That was it.

“Somethin’ we haven’t done before,” you said. “Somethin’ you like.”

Her smile slowly grew as she thought of what she wanted. The weight on top of you shifted until her hands pressed your shoulders further into the mattress. You felt her breath on your lips before you felt her kiss, quick and soft and eager. It was enough to get your heart racing even when she pulled away. She was off you in a moment, practically running out of the room.

You sat up on your elbows and watched the open door. What was she doing? Surely she wasn’t going to just leave, right? No, she wouldn’t do that. Right? That had been one of her more mischievous smiles, and she was absolutely one for payback. But you also knew Lorraine was nothing if not eternally aroused, so surely she wouldn’t just leave.

At least she better not, because if she teased you like that only to go and get back in bed with RJ, you were going to lose your mind. You weren’t usually one to make a scene, but you could always make an exception. The wrath of God, and all that good preacher nonsense.

You’re in a house of sin.

Yes you were, and you were going to partake in it for the night. Repentance was only 50 feet and a few hours away. If Lorraine could remove her cross necklace during scenes, surely you could remove the guilt from your chest for a few hours. God may have been in the walls, watching your every move, but He could look away for the time. You were far past the point of caring.

By the time Lorraine came back into the room, you were already jittery. Her hands were behind her back as she closed the door quietly, the click almost inaudible. that mischievous smile was back, but you noticed the way she tapped her foot against the floor, still in the same spot.

“You promise you wanna try somethin’ new?” She asked, her voice uncertain, carrying over the thick air.

“I’m sure,” you said, “just get over here.”

Her steps were slow, methodical on the straight path to the bed. The whole way her hands stayed behind her back. You wondered what she had, but you couldn’t think too hard. Hell, the sway of her hips could have made you forget your own name.

That familiar weight settled on you again as Lorraine straddled you, placing whatever was in her hands off to the side, just out of your sight. When  you tried to twist and look at it, she pressed down against your shoulders again, her lips instantly finding yours.

Her nightgown rested high on her thighs, and you were never one to keep your hands to yourself. She sighed when you slid your hands under her nightgown, resting on her hips. Her breath tickled on your cheek. You couldn’t hold back your quiet chuckle, which Lorraine returned, smiling into the kiss.

“Don’t tickle,” she mumbled against your lips.

“What,” you said just as softly, “that ain't romantic?”

She laughed again, eliciting the same sound out of you as your hands continued up. Your knuckles brushed against the underside of her breasts, transforming her laugh into something a little more breathy but no less joyful. A sound that, you decided, was much better than anything you had heard during her scene.

“Take it off, Raine,” you said.

“What's the magic word?” She said before sitting up straight.

“Please,” you said breathlessly.

She barely waited for the word to leave your mouth before she pulled the nightgown over her head. Every time you saw her undress was like the first time. Your heart raced as she uncovered every inch of skin, from her thighs to her hips to her breasts. Not a single space had been neglected by you in your times together, and you weren't going to start that night.

You sat up, keeping a hand on Lorraine's back to keep her in your lap. She didn't hesitate to grab your face and pull you into a kiss. It immediately shot a wave of arousal down your spine, pooling in your lower abdomen. And for once, that usual spark of guilt was absent.

“Yours too,” she barely managed to say between kisses.

You couldn't speak, simply nodded as you fumbled around like a teenager. Or course the hem of your shirt would hide from you on the one night you not only had Lorraine, but a bed. She laughed again and pulled away. You tried to chase her - you would always try to chase her - but she pulled back again and placed a finger to your lips.

“Let me help,” she said.

Her fingers were so light against your skin that it tickled. She found the hem of your shirt quickly but took her sweet time pulling it up. Those delectable nails of hers scratched against your skin the entire time. Over your sides, the sides of your breasts, the underside of your arms as you held them up for her to finish pulling the shirt off.

“Is this Beau’s?” She asked.

“It’s comfy,” you said meekly.

She tossed the shirt to the side. “You should wear one of mine sometime.”

“I thought you liked me better shirtless,” you teased.

“Maxine has a word for people like you,” Lorraine said when she pulled you back in for a kiss. “She'd call you a minx.”

“I like it,” you said, kissing her back and running your knuckles over her nipples. Her shiver was delightful. “Sounds downright sinful.”

“Stop talking,” she said.

And oh god you did. How could you even consider doing anything else when you were enveloped by her? Her scent, her taste, the feel of her skin, warm against yours. If kissing her was the final nail in your coffin, you would accept death gracefully and with no regrets.

She nipped your lip when you lightly pinched her nipples. Never hard enough to hurt, no, but just enough to draw the most perfect little yelp from her lips. In return, her hands fell to your ribs, pushing against you until you were laying on the bed again.

You shifted, pulling your knee up until you pressed against her. She let out a breathy sigh, but otherwise kept kissing you. There was just something mesmerizing about the way she tasted. An ambrosia not for the gods, but for you alone. A sustenance for your very mind, body, and soul.

“Take these off,” Lorraine said, pulling lightly against the pants that you had also stolen from Beau.

In your defense, he was your fake boyfriend.

“Will you take yours off?” You asked even though you had already started trying to take your pants off.

She nodded hastily. “I want to feel you for a moment.”

You would've happily let her feel you for as long as she wished. All she had to do was give you the smile she was giving you in that moment. The one she had before the accident, the one she saved exclusively for the times she was alone with you. If she looked at you like that for the rest of eternity, you would be in heaven.

Her skin was hot against yours as she laid completely on top of you. On instinct, you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and back as she tucked her head into your neck. Her breath tickled your collar bone, but you couldn't have been happier.

How could such peace be a sin? Such pure love, something that would not only be applauded but praised if you had but been born a man? What difference could there truly be, aside from the shape of your body. The guilt sparked in your chest once again, but this time, you quickly stomped it out.

You would not be shamed for loving Lorraine. Not that night.

The position you were both in was comfortable and, quite frankly, innocent. But that didn't ease the inferno that was still raging inside you. If you had the ability to have Lorraine to yourself more than once in a blue moon, you would have been satisfied. But the “lust of the flesh,” as daddy called it, was as present and angry as always.

Thankfully, Lorraine seemed to feel the same when you felt her hips move and you felt her arousal on your thigh.

“Wanna try somethin’ new?” She asked, placing a seemingly innocuous kiss behind your ear.

“With you?” You asked. You placed your finger under her chin and lifted her face until you could see her eyes. “Always.”

She smiled and kissed you quickly before sitting up. You tried to sit up with her, but she used her bad hand to push you back down with ease. Not that it stopped you from trying to look around her to see the thing she had brought into the room. Her smile turned nervous, but no less excited as she finally turned back around.

“Is that-”

“-Maxine and Bobby-Lynn used one like it a few times,” Lorraine started to explain while she started pulling straps around your hips and thighs. “I asked ‘em to get me one not too long ago.”

“Jesus, Raine,” you said as she pulled the straps tighter.

“It works the same as-”

“-I can guess how it works,” you interrupted.

Her hands slowed to a stop as she finished securing the… phallic toy in place. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Lorraine,” you said as softly as you could, finally sitting up - as best you could without feeling too awkward - and placing your hand on the scarred side of her jaw. “I’m more than okay with it.” She leaned further into your hand. “If you asked me to wear only my boots and spurs, I would do it.”

“Oh yeah?” She asked, her teasing smile coming back in full force.

“Don’t push your luck, Day,” you said before leaning forward to kiss her again.

She moaned softly into the kiss. “If I did it right, you should feel it too,” she said as she lifted herself onto her knees, hovering over you. “So let me know.”

You nodded and pulled her into a kiss. As curious as you were to watch, you wanted to feel her lips against yours. You knew the moment she lowered herself onto the toy; her gasp was to die for. Shorty, breathy, almost inaudible if you hadn’t been kissing her already. The sound alone was enough to leave you soaking and needy.

But then you felt the toy press against you, and you knew you were a goner. Lorraine stayed still in your lap, catching her breath, and you would have been more than happy to keep her there. If she moved, you swore you would cum on the spot. It wasn’t a feeling that was so much better than everything else, but simply the knowledge that you were both feeling something together.

“I guess it works,” Lorraine teased even though she could barely keep herself in control.

“It does,” you said through clenched teeth as you tried to stay strong when she started moving again.

She didn’t have to move for long before you pulled her into a kiss, holding her tight against you. You did your best to move your hips with her. It was awkward and clumsy, and you both laughed a little when, more than once, you moved wrong and the toy slipped out. But you were okay with that, because it meant you got to hear her little gasp again.

As wrong as it felt, you had to picture Jackson to get a good rhythm going, or at least to get started. Specifically, you thought of the way his hips had moved with each thrust. You knew you got it right when Lorraine moaned, her head falling to your shoulder. If you hadn’t been so focused on not cumming or losing your rhythm, you would’ve moaned just the same.

“Baby,” she mumbled against your neck. Her nails dug into your shoulders; you would have to cover the marks up in the morning.

You knew what she wanted; she only ever truly called you “baby” when she was almost ready to cum. And you were more than happy to oblige. You kept one arm wrapped tight around her waist, holding her in place while your free hand slid down her stomach. Past the almost unnoticeable scatter of scars and through that small patch of hair.

Her hips jolted against your hand when you brushed against her clit. It was sloppy work; you would need to get used to the unusual angle later. But clearly it didn’t matter, because while her moans stayed quiet, they got higher in pitch until she bit down on your shoulder.

You used that as your sign to follow her, not even needing three more thrusts before you tipped over the edge along with her. You held her tight, hyper aware of every inch of her skin against yours. Of the slick sweat that coated both your bodies. Of the sting of her teeth and nails, but you would rather die than have her stop. Of your breaths intermingling between you until you were of one breath, one heartbeat, one soul.

Heaven existed, and it was right in that moment with Lorraine.

“You’re bleedin’,” she said softly. You didn’t have to look to know what she meant.

“It’s alright,” you said, pressing a light kiss to the side of her head. “You can nurse me back to health later.”

Lorraine giggled. A light sound that reminded you of when you were all kids and you would do anything to get that sound out of her. It was a reminder of simpler times, back when you were too young to understand that everyone believed what you felt for each other was wrong. A sin. Back when love was just that; love.

You let yourself fall back onto the bed, pulling Lorraine with you. She made a small noise when the toy moved inside her, but quickly settled back onto your chest. Her nails felt good scratching lightly against your skin, more comforting than ticklish. A nervous habit of hers.

“Did you learn all that from Jackson?” She asked.

“Don’t remind me,” you said; she chuckled. “I ain’t proud to say I had to picture him there for a minute.”

“Well, you gave him a run for his money,” she said.

“Think so?” You asked; you felt her nod against your chest. “Cause you still didn’t make the same noises.”

“Because these were real,” she said. Her voice grew quiet. “Everything with you is real.”

You wished she wouldn’t say things like that. That she could just let you both lie there, comfortable in the silence. Everyone was aware of the situation, but just once you wanted to pretend it wasn’t happening. That you actually did get to love her without feeling shame or guilt.

You just pulled her closer.

“I love you,” you said.

“I love you,” she repeated.

It wasn’t enough, but for the moment, you were going to pretend it was. For the moment, you could pretend this was your daily life. Being in the same bed as Lorraine, showing her just how much you loved her, how much she truly meant to you. Holding her tight until you were of the same body and spirit, because no matter what the world thought, you were.

It wasn’t enough. But it would do.

“Are you really goin’ to film a scene tomorrow?” Lorraine asked.

“Absolutely not,” you said. “Bobby-Lynn and Maxine just wanted to getcha all riled up.”

Lorraine lifted her head from your chest and lowered her brows.

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” you said with a smile.

“Sometimes I hate all of y’all,” she mumbled, quickly ducking her head back underneath your jaw. You still managed to catch the smile on her lips.

“I love you too, darlin’,” you said, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of her head.

Now this. This was enough.

[nekokoaa]

The Agreement - Miguel O'Hara x Therapist!Reader (II)

Summary: It was simple. No kissing. No sex. Hugs and hand-holding only. The goal was to help Miguel feel a little less lonely sometimes. That was your job as one of the therapists at HQ, to mentally stabilize everyone’s mind, including the boss’s.

In other words, you and Miguel make a deal.

Rated Explicit, fluff, smut

3.1K words | (2/5) chapters

Chapters:

(I) (II) (III) (IV) (V)

Author's notes: Good news, this fic has been extended to 5 chapters! 6 if I decide to do a chapter in Miguel's POV. We'll see! Also I think some people reached out to me about a tag list! Definitely comment on this post if you want to be added :)

Also on AO3

II.

The first session was the staple of this agreement for a while. To the point where it felt like you were disturbing Miguel when you would appear after his missions. You thought it was when he needed you the most. With the job comes the stress—the anxiety. Every spider-person knew that whether you were one month in or had years on the job. You all knew there was only one person who could protect the people and it was a cesspool of pressure all spider-people were carrying. 

Including Miguel.

So you would visit him after his missions with the intention of closing that cesspool. And every time, he would greet you with that scowl on his face. It would be there from the beginning to the moment you're sliding your hand over his, innocently, gently. A touch he hasn’t felt in God knows how long. A touch he ignored he needed, but never complained about.

In the first few sessions, little was said between you two. Mostly talked about mission statuses and the mental health of the spider-people. Within time, the topics expanded to your universes and your homes. Nueva York being his. New York was yours. And later, by the end of every session, you were discovering layers of Miguel most didn’t know about.

It left you curious to the point where you looked forward to his sessions every week. You tried not to cross any boundaries—but you ended up sharing more about yourself with him than other spider-people. Usually, you were the one listening and advising.

“Cat got your tongue, has it?” It wasn’t the sound of Hobie’s voice that pulled you from your thoughts but the light strum of his guitar, the normally loud instrument’s sound was weakened without an amp. As always, he lounged on your office couch, feet kicked up on the armrest with his guitar on his lap. 

“Not necessarily,” you responded, feeling embarrassed that you had spaced out when he was talking. Noticing, Hobie smirked. He loved it when things seemed awry.

“I seen it all. Little Miss Perfect in her head. Maybe I should be the doc and you’re the patient, yeah?”

“Maybe we should start having these sessions during the day. You do know it’s 1 AM.” Late sessions with Hobie felt more like you were hanging out with a friend. A waste of time but much-needed company.

“So?” Hobie shrugged, a melody was released from the strings. “Night is when the fun happens, mate.”

And Hobie was right. Your sessions with Miguel were always late in the night when most spider-people returned to their universes. Miguel would still be working, red eyes on those orange screens. You would be next to him, close to where you could feel each other’s heat. Sometimes presence was just enough. During these sessions, the clock’s minute hand would move a little too fast. An hour went by like a minute and then you would overstay. You didn’t know what to call those moments after. It was better to not give them a name.

You would leave and return with two coffees. Miguel would thank you, pulling away from his work and then you would chat till the night aged. The night never expired without hearing one of Miguel’s witty but rude comments.

And when you would give him a smile and your hand went on his bicep, it meant you were leaving.

It meant the fun was over.

Yeah, Hobie was definitely right. You were way too much in your head. Even now as the clocks strike 10 PM as you waited for Miguel in his office. Tonight wasn’t a session, but you wanted to check in to see how he was doing. That was normal, right? Checking in? Not like you did it to anyone else but it was still normal in your mind.

It was better than returning to your universe—to your empty white-walled apartment. There were memories buried within that place that you would like to forget.

First came the tremors, and then the tiny hairs on your skin erected. The pen you were holding slipped from your fingers, levitating above you. Gravity no longer existed for small objects and the air became dry but moist at the same time. It was like logic itself was confused as reality was torn open by a yellow portal and who emerged from it was, of course, Miguel fully covered in his spider suit. The sight so familiar, you had thought back to when you were first recruited by the Spider Society. 

Imprisoned by the white walls of your apartment, you felt that same energy shift and that yellow portal appeared in your room like a stain. But to you, it was a hexagonal halo around Miguel who emerged from it, reaching into your universe, saying the words, “doc, we need your help.”

Life was never dull after that.

“Do I look like a blue panther to you?” Miguel approached you with his arms out. You hummed, turning your head sideways as your eyes trace over Miguel’s figure. The yellow portal closed behind him, and soon reality had returned to its natural state. You could feel Miguel getting annoyed the longer it took for you to answer. His hands went on his hips, eyes narrowing.

“Wellll….”

“Ugh, give me a break,” he brushed past you as you laughed. You followed him, grabbing hold of his arm to stop him from walking away.

“I’m kidding! Kidding!”

“ Ha ha ,” he scoffed, shrugging his arm out of your grasp. Like a red laser, his webs shot out from his wrist and he lifted himself onto his floating platform. Even after his missions, he still dived back into work. “Lyla, create a new recruit profile for Gwen Stacy, Spider-Woman from Earth-65.”

“Earth-65?” You webbed yourself after him, peeking from behind his back to look at the orange-screened monitors. “I thought that was one of the universes we’re not recruiting.”

“Jess wanted her to join. She helped us capture Vulture and… I guess she did a pretty good job at it.” Miguel pulled up a hologram of the security camera in the Villains Cell Block. Jess was processing the captured Vulture to send him home in the next line up and next to her was a teenager with blond hair, the ends of it dyed soft pink. You assumed that was Gwen as Miguel zoomed in on her face.

It was rare to impress Miguel so much that he was willing to bend his own rules. Gwen Stacy from 65 was friends with the anomaly. “Cool, then I’ll schedule a session with her. Can’t wait to meet her.”

“What are you even doing here anyway?” Miguel asked, giving you a side-eye glance as he swiped the hologram away. A few more popped up about the last mission he was on and a couple more he had to do in the future. “We did our session this week.”

“Aah,” you had rehearsed your reason several times before arriving in his office and your mind still came up blank. “Just… checking in.”

You could tell he raised his eyebrow behind his mask, “Checking in?”

“Uh yeah, isn’t that normal?” You so wanted to bury yourself underground.

“Then you must have a lot of free time on your hands, doc.” Miguel shook his head, not bothering to inquire more. Not like he had any time to. His mask disintegrated and he shifted his focus to his work. You would’ve left him alone at that point because Miguel didn’t like to be disturbed once he got started until you noticed something off about his face.

“What happened to your lip?” You asked, noticing the dried blotch of blood on the corner of his bottom lip. It even looked a bit swollen.

He let out something like a sigh, a groan, or something in between before speaking quickly. “I don’t know probably happened in the fight or something—Lyla!”

“You should treat it. It could get worse, maybe even infected.” Your fingers grazed his jaw, tilting his head slightly up while tiptoeing to examine the cut. Perhaps, it was because of these sessions that you have gotten so used to touching Miguel. Before, you would’ve earned a warning scratch on your hand by now so something had changed in him as well.

“Infected?” Miguel let out a condescending laugh, his fangs making an appearance. His brown eyes deepened into red as they looked you down. It was almost as if he was mocking you. “Don’t you know who you’re talking to?”

“Does it matter? We’re still human, aren’t we?” It was a question you received so often from your patients that you suddenly found yourself asking that exact same thing. You had yet to find an answer that made sense. Yes, you’re human. No, you’re not. Maybe it was easier to not create a binary answer and to just go with what you believed in. At least that’s what you told your patients when they sat on your office couch. They seemed to have accepted that answer.

Miguel, however, felt different. He turned to face you, his large hand encircling your wrist as he pulled your hand away from his face. He stepped forward with a slight sway, and that was when you realized the size difference between you two. He might as well have been a skyscraper, casting a shadow over your figure and shielding you from the orange glow of the screens. His head was tilted up but his eyes—damn, his eyes barreled down on you, locked on like a sniper scope. It was predatory. And you had never felt so small before in your life. 

“More than,” he answered lowly, releasing your hand from his grip and then he returned to his work.

You stood there, holding your wrist which was hot to the touch as your heart boomed against your ear drums. There was a dull ache in your head and shivers ran up your spine. It could only mean one thing. Your spidey senses were alerted. It happened a couple of times when Miguel would get this way. But he never hurt you. He would never. So why was every fiber of your being telling you to run from him?

You swallowed air, anything to get yourself to calm down. Hesitating, you glanced at Miguel who had buried himself in his work, seeming to have forgotten you were in the room. 

More than human. You had never thought of yourself more superior to the people you were saving. Maybe it was because you used to believe you were the only one with powers in your entire universe. It was easier to think of yourself as an unfortunate freak burdened with the duty of justice. But when you walk the halls of HQ, surrounded by like-minded spider-people in staggering numbers, you could understand Miguel’s point of view. All of you were strong, intellectually smart, and capable of doing extraordinary things that are beyond the capabilities of humans. And then you have Mayday who was born with these abilities. 

You knew the dangers that could come with having a superiority complex. Even then, Miguel was someone you couldn’t exactly leave alone no matter what he thought or how often he pushed you away. It wasn’t something you could explain. Did a moth ever question why it was attracted to the light, beautiful but deadly to its soul? All you knew was that it was better than being alone wandering aimlessly in the dark.

You left and returned with a medkit in your hands. A tap on Miguel’s shoulder earned quiet mumbles from him, claiming he was going insane for being interrupted before he looked at you, brown eyes flicking between the medkit and your face. 

You were as stubborn as he was and he knew you wouldn’t get off his back unless you got what you wanted. So, with a sigh, Miguel followed you off the platform to a large metal block you urged him to sit on.

You opened the medkit, pulling out the items you needed to treat his wound. Miguel stayed quiet. You could feel his eyes on your face, looking over every part of you. It was hard to ignore it considering how piercing his stare could get like he was trying to uncover the deepest parts of your soul.

“God, I feel like I’m always giving in to you,” he spitted out, hissing when you pressed a moist rag to his lip a little too hard.

“Good.”

“Just means you’re always in my way.”

“Still a good thing.”

He rolled his eyes and then they went right back on you. You were so focused on cleaning the blood off his lip that you didn’t notice how close you got to his face.

“You know, puedes sentarte .” You were startled to hear another language in your ear. More or less, you understood him, moving to sit next to him until you felt Miguel’s hand on your hip stopping you mid-motion to guide you on top of his lap. “Better.” 

You let out a less than graceful squeak, cheeks flushing, “O-Okay.” You were taken aback but then you remembered the agreement. As long as there was no kissing, no sex, then this was fine, right?

You continued to tend to Miguel’s cut, ignoring your steadily rising heart rate, but you were also admiring Miguel’s face. His high cheekbones, sharp jaw, and loose curly hair were perfectly combed back. He was definitely a handsome man and he had the most perfect body. You have never seen such wide shoulders in your life.

“You’re like a mother—sort of.”

“What the fuck,” you frowned. It wasn’t something you wanted to hear while sitting on this man’s lap especially when you were internally praising him.

“There was a time when I came home from school with my lip busted after beating up this bully and my mom did what you’re doing.” It was slight but Miguel’s expression softened. He was looking at you but you could tell the warmth in his eyes was from recalling an old memory. It was the first time he brought up his family, and you couldn’t help but smile at him.

“You were a troublesome kid, weren’t you?” You joked, placing a small bandage over his cut.

“My dad thought I was too, probably why he busted the other side of my lip after.”

You stiffened, smile immediately dropping. You weren’t foreign to domestic violence stories from your patients back in your universe. It was a sensitive topic, but knowing Miguel, he didn’t want to be coddled about it.

“Sorry,” your fingers brushed the other side of his lip. There was no cut there but you could imagine the pain he went through when his father struck him. “Your dad sounds like an asshole.”

“He was.”

“I… wanted to be one, a mother,” you admitted. “When I got married to Harry, I couldn’t wait to start a family. I wanted a little girl like Mayday, cute with the fattest cheeks. But I only had a 5% chance of conceiving, my doctor told me it was nearly impossible, and when Harry found out… Well, he divorced me. Something about my inability to continue the Osborn family line...”

You spoke without looking at him. You were still ashamed of the reason for your divorce. Harry made it feel like you were a failure of a woman. He was a misogynistic asshole that only viewed women as a means to continue his family line. You wondered what spell he cast on you to make you fall in love with him because looking back, he never seriously cared about you as a person.

It took you a year and a half to recover from the hurt. The white walls of your apartment would remind you of every argument you had with him, of when he berated you, of when he made you feel less than. You spiraled into a hole you never wanted to be in again.

Little Miss Perfect. Gosh, you were far from it.

You noticed Miguel’s hand was stroking your thigh. He looked… sad. He probably understood you the most when it came to wanting a family.

“It’s a canon event for some, you know. A spider-person must go through a breakup… But after, we always find love, right?” You shrugged, smiling softly after.

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” It was rare to hear Miguel sound soft, his voice lower than you ever heard it before. His large hand never stopped treading along your thigh to your hips and then back down again. Slow and agonizing, mapping out your shape. You wondered when you got so close to him, both hands resting on his strong shoulders, chests nearly together. You were slowly gravitating towards him—to the heat of his lips. Those red eyes were normally deadly but now it was with something else, flicking between your lips and eyes. Want, desire, and everything in between.

Surely, you didn’t know what to call this moment. It was better to not give it a name. It was better to just give in because it’s been so so long since you’ve been touched. Didn’t you deserve it? Didn’t he? The hand upon your thigh felt hot, you could feel it through your spidey suit. How glorious would it be if it was upon your bare skin?

Your head was too noisy. Your morals screaming. No kissing! No sex! He’s your patient! Any excuse you thought of appeared, making you resist.

It was too much. You lowered your head before Miguel could lean in any further. His lips were so close that his hot breath was brushing your cheek in waves. You couldn’t bear it so you slightly pushed against his chest to create some space. “I… have to go.”

You managed to say, moving to stand but you felt resistance from his hand on your hip as it held you in place. You and Miguel shared a look. For once, he wanted you to stay.

But you weren’t going to be held back by that look in his eyes.

“Good night, Miguel…” With a flick of your wrist, a string of webs shot out towards the ceiling and you quickly slipped yourself out of Miguel’s hold and out of his office. 

Miguel remained still for a moment, almost like he was frozen in time. But once it settled with him that you left, his hand that was on your hip closed so tight into a fist, it began to tremble. A heavy sigh passed through his lips while his other hand moved to pinch the bridge of his nose. He just needed a moment. 

Just a moment to realize not everything he holds in his arms disappears from his life for good.

Within time, he spoke.

“Lyla.”

Lyla generated next to him, floating by his head. “Yeah, Miguel?”

“Did you finish creating the profile?”

“One, you didn’t say please. Two, I didn’t want to interrupt,” grinned Lyla.

Miguel groaned until his back met with metal and draped an arm over his eyes. “Do I look like I’m in the mood for jokes?”

“When are you ever?” Lyla was expecting Miguel’s usual quips to her antics, but when she received nothing but silence from him, she frowned and gave in to his request. “Fiiiine, profile was done ages ago but I wasn’t joking when I said I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Next Chapter

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for moving out and leaving my roommate?

🦆 <- so I can find later

I (20X) am in uni currently in my sophomore year. I'm autistic and have social anxiety so I have terrible luck making friends and usually end up getting "adopted" by an extrovert. At my uni, it's typical to live in a double room - they do not have separate bedrooms/baths, it's essentially just a bedroom with two beds and two desks in them. My first year of uni I didn't end up with a roommate (which is apparently relatively common for first-years for various reasons) but the extrovert friend I made, let's call them P, did have a roommate that kinda sucked (blasting music into the early morning, bringing friends over without warning, etc).

P and I were friends during our freshman years in that we went out to dinners together and sometimes events. Both of us share the same sort of schedule (although they're in a STEM track and I'm an art history major) and ideals (neither of us are into drinking/drugs/partying). So, naturally, P suggested that we move in as roommates together in sophomore year.

Here's the problem. P is kind of abrasive and honestly downright rude at some points. We're friends, we still hang out and go to dinners/events together and joke around, but a lot of times their "joking around" is just hurtful. For example, they find it funny to gaslight me, or maybe they don't even realize they do it - I say things like "I heard that the dining hall is getting a dessert section" and P will say "no they aren't, you're wrong" and then a week later when the dessert section gets installed, I'll say "ah so they were getting one! I knew it" and they'll say "you literally never said that, I did." They also (physically) shove me around, pour salt in my food while I'm in the restroom, make fun of me for not doing my own laundry (I'm physically disabled, literally can't), say I'm taking "dumb classes" compared to their STEM major, etc. Ive talked to them about their behavior before, but they just said "I was never making fun of you".

The thing is, I hate rooming with P. They're fun to hang out with, and they're funny, but when I hang out with them for too long their jokes just turn into picking on me and I just plain don't find it funny. They're not a bad roommate; they respect my space, don't mess with my stuff (usually), but I just don't feel comfortable living with them.

I tried to "get out" last semester, but the only way I'd be able to move out is if I activated my disability accomodations and asked for a medical single, which would take months to process. It's January now, so if I start the process now, it could be ready by next semester. However, P doesn't want me to leave and is super clingy, texting me when I leave to visit home that they miss me. With their previous experience with a bad roommate, I'm not inclined to give them back up to the roommate lottery again, and they're one of the only friends I have at uni, but at the same time, I don't see how we can work this out because I've already talked to them about it and set boundaries and been ignored.

TL;DR My roommate is a good roommate but bad friend, and I want to move out but I'm worried that they'll get stuck with a bad roommate in my stead. WIBTA for leaving or should I stay and deal with it?

What are these acronyms?

[1d1195]

Normal People IV

You can find the first two good parts and the mediocre third part here: Normal People *throws hands up* here's this part

Note: A flashback scene is in italics

“That’ll be the day—Harry doesn’t buy drinks for pretty girls.”

“Fortunately, Harry doesn’t think I’m all that pretty,” she winked.

“Kitten, please stop.”

Niall’s eyebrows perked up. “Oh, kitten,” Niall said. “M’sorry, I didn’t realize who you were."

Harry truly changed after that party. He didn’t see her anymore. There weren’t many days left of school, but when it rained, he was soaked now when he got home. But he bore that punishment. It was important he did because apparently, it was the only way he was going to learn.

He spent his summer working in a bakery and hiding from his friends. Any time they asked to hang out, Harry was busy. Another punishment that he deserved.

“She’ll forgive you,” Anne reminded him as he laid on the couch reading a book.

“Maybe she shouldn’t,” he said miserably.

It went without saying that the last punishment he took with grace was not kissing her sweet face anymore.

*

Harry got a room in a flat with a bunch of other guys from university. His closest roommate was Niall. He liked him a lot and saw him as a friend and he hoped he felt the same way. Niall had a bright outgoing personality and he invited Harry to every party and outing he attended. Harry said yes on occasion but ever since his last party of school, it didn’t feel right.

When he did go with Niall, he thought about how pretty she looked that last time and how terribly he treated her. Not sticking up for her was the worst thing he could do. Harry would do it all differently—the right way—in a heartbeat now. He thought about it a lot these days.

When he saw the ways his friends treated girls, and he didn’t feel it was the utmost proper respect, he said something. When he saw a girl that was too drunk at a bar or at a party, he made sure she found a way home safely or with a friend. It made girls fawn over him and he brushed all of it off. His friends teased him about it saying he was the only guy they knew who could get any girl he wanted but not want any of them.

But he couldn’t get any girl he wanted. There was only one. Harry didn’t date anyone during that time. He didn’t see the point. He lost the best girl he ever knew because he was an idiot. It didn’t make sense for him to pursue anyone else.

“There’s a girl in m’English lecture who likes you,” Niall told him. It wasn’t the first time Niall had tried to set him up. It led Harry to telling him the whole story—the whole ugly thing. Harry didn’t spare a detail and painted himself the villain of the story.

Harry smirked barely moving his gaze to look up from his notebook. “Thanks, Niall. M’not interested,” he said. “M’focused on studying these days.”

“I sure hope she’s worth all this moping for,” he muttered quietly. It wasn’t that Niall thought Harry was without blame...he just thought that if she was as lovely as he described, she wouldn’t want him moping for the rest of his life. Least not about her.

* “Harry, this girl has been staring at you for at least fifteen minutes,” Niall said to Harry over the crowd and live band. Harry had just a couple drinks, usually the brains of the operation making sure everyone made it home safely.

“Ni, seriously,” Harry murmured. “M’not—”

“Harry, she’s walking over,” Niall interrupted; he was excited. There was giddiness in his voice. Harry wanted to leave without even looking. But he didn’t want to be rude. There wasn’t anyone worth his time. “She’s in m’biology lecture,” he said. “Very smart...I think you would like her...you want me to pretend you’re taken or—” Harry was shaking his head as Niall talked loudly in his ear. He was ready to tell Niall to chill out and it would never be.

“Hi, Harry.”

There wasn’t a world in which this was real. There was only one girl, one person worth his time. And here she was. Why didn’t he just look over when Niall said something? Turning to the sound of her voice, he met her eyes and her gentle smiling face. It had only been about six months, but she looked older, more mature than she did in school. She looked...happy.

Harry’s heart was beating out in an unhealthy rhythm. It was radiating through his veins and made his fingertips numb. She was here. Right beside him. Looking so utterly gorgeous. “Oh, y’know each other?” Niall asked cheerfully.

“Hey, Niall,” she answered sweetly and smiled at him so kindly it melted Harry. He tried to look away from her, take a break so he wouldn’t faint thinking about how unbelievable this moment was. It was a second chance and he felt sick. But he didn’t even deserve the second chance. He was unsure of what to do.

“Hi, princess,” he said flirtishly. “Buy you a drink?”

“No thank you, m’leaving soon, but even still Harry would buy me one,” she smiled sweetly wrinkling her nose so cutely, Harry blushed at the sight of her.

“That’ll be the day—Harry doesn’t buy drinks for pretty girls.”

“Fortunately, Harry doesn’t think I’m all that pretty,” she winked. Harry felt sick and he shook his head as he called for the bartender. Niall was the one talking but she kept her gaze on Harry.

“Harry!” Niall gasped. “What makes you say that, princess?” He said winking at her and clapping Harry on the back with a joking smile. Harry wanted to die.

“Kitten, please stop.”

Niall’s eyebrows perked up. “Oh, kitten,” Niall said. “M’sorry, I didn’t realize who you were,” Niall smirked. “Harry will definitely be buying you a drink because you are stunning,” he promised and patted Harry on the back, gave the girl’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and meandered around a crowd to the other side of the bar.

She was still standing beside Harry, and he cleared his throat. “D’you want to sit?”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to get me a drink,” she said. “I am heading out, actually—but wanted to say hi.”

Harry told the bartender he wanted to pay for his tab, and he pulled money from his wallet before standing. “After you,” he said to her and gestured for the exit.

She tilted her head at him. “You don’t need to leave, Harry. I’m sure we’ll run into each other a lot more now that Niall knows—”

“M’not letting you out of m’sight, kitten,” he told her, stuffing his hands in his pocket. “Won’t be losing you again.”

“Harry, really—”

“M’not leaving you alone, love.”

*

Harry was surprised when she said she would prefer his place over hers—he wondered if it was because she knew she could “escape” if she wanted to. It was obvious she had more self-control in this scenario than Harry did. Harry wouldn’t want to leave if they went to her place. He would want to stay with her for...for forever, really. So it was best she could leave when she wanted to. Harry would let her—he wasn’t crazy. He just...missed her.

In Harry’s room she looked at his bed, with the same comforter set she recognized from Anne’s house. The desk was set up the same way as before. If she didn’t know any better, she could picture him at Anne’s house still. The only difference is he had a seascape on the wall above his head.

She stared at it for a few moments. “So, you’re staying a while then,” she said. “All moved in.” He nodded silently. Observed her pretty being in his room again after the longest time he’d gone without seeing her. “Cat got your tongue?” She wondered. He didn’t say anything, just kept looking at her. He was afraid to blink; if she disappeared, he would cry. But she needed to leave. Had to leave. Harry didn’t deserve her. He smiled at her nervously and shrugged. They were silent for a few moments. She scuffed her foot on the floor and then sat on his bed. “I...I...m’seeing a guy right now.”

His heart shattered. Of course she was. Only an idiot wouldn't be with her. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “He’s nice,” she shrugged.

“Good,” she deserved nice. She deserved the best, to be fair. But this was a start. Better than Harry. She sounded like she was hedging her bets though. Like she didn't want Harry to know something about him.

“He uh...” she pursed her lips together and stared at the floor in front of her in concentration as she spoke. She shook her head of whatever thought she was trying to form in her brain. “I don’t think it will last," she almost whispered the ending. Nervous about the thought.

“No?”

“No.”

“How come?” He wondered--he couldn't help it. He thought about being with her. If he was ever given the chance again he wouldn't blow it; wouldn't make a single mistake. He would pave her path with rose petals and make sure she had everything her heart desired.

She leaned back on his bed and the movement wasn’t lost on Harry--he thought about how his pillow would smell like her when he fell asleep tonight. It hadn't smelled like her shampoo in months and he thought it would be the cure to all the negativity he felt. He leaned against the wall opposite the bed so he would join her on his mattress. He stuffed his hands in his front pockets. “I think he thinks I’m too independent. He doesn’t...do anything for me.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“I do all the planning and the...everything...and when we kiss or...” she trailed off and Harry’s heart shattered into another piece thinking about the end of the sentence that she was kind enough to forgo. “I just don’t...I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” she shook her head. “I shouldn’t be telling you this. You must think I’m nuts.”

“No,” he shook his head back at her. “No, kitten. I don’t.”

“You really need to stop with the kitten stuff.”

Bravely--and because his resolve to stay away from her was crumbling by the millisecond--Harry crossed the length of his room to her and knelt beside his bed. She turned her head to look at him and she smirked. “Kitten,” he said gently. She opened her mouth to protest but he spoke quickly before she could. “He should do everything for you,” he said simply and pressed a hand on the inside of her wrist. It felt like touching a pan fresh out of the oven. It burned Harry to touch her—he’d never felt anything like that in his life. If it were a pan from the oven, he would have released it; but all he wanted was to hold tighter and feel more of a burn.

“I don’t really let him do anything for me, though. To be honest.”

“He should do it anyway.” She leaned on her elbows propping herself up just a bit. Harry was still touching her forearm. He was afraid if he released, he wouldn’t feel her warmth anymore. That she would get up and leave him. He didn’t deserve her presence.

But he wouldn’t be the one to tell her to go.

“I think I repel love,” she admitted and lowered herself back to her bed. Harry wanted to say he loved her, and he wasn’t repelled at all. He was so attracted to her he could have melted himself to her body and it wouldn’t be close enough. “Like there’s something wrong with me,” she snorted.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you, love.”

She didn’t say anything for a few moments. “How about you? Any ladies in your life?”

“No,” he chuckled wryly. He released the grip on her forearm in favor of trailing his finger along her veins instead. “Uh...m’afraid I’ve repelled the one lady I love.”

She turned her head to him and stared at him without any emotion in her eyes. Not anger, not distrust, not happiness, not anything. “She doesn’t sound like someone you should be with,” she said softly.

“I would give the world t’be with her.” She was silent as she scanned Harry’s face. She didn’t respond because she couldn’t. Harry knew she was wondering why she wasn’t enough when they were in school. Why he wouldn’t give her the world before. “I made so many mistakes,” he whispered.

She turned her head in the other direction. “Don’t,” her voice cracked. She shook her head and Harry was silent again. He just kept tracing her skin.

He thought about one of their afternoons.

Harry was kissing her as if his lungs were in her body. When they finally stopped to catch their breath for a few minutes he kept his lips hovering over hers. His nose bumped into hers. His fingers tugging and brushing through her hair. “I think you’re my best friend,” she told him.

“Yeah?” He smiled. He liked that. He liked being her friend.

“You know what I’m thinking before I tell you.”

He was quiet for a few moments, and he thought about all the ideas and things he had in his head. He wished she knew them all. “I like that,” he admitted. “I like...knowing you.”

She smirked. “What do you want to do in college?” She asked.

“M’not sure,” he admitted. “’Ve always wanted to do something with...music. But m’told that’s a silly choice. I’d probably do something with English.”

“Why wouldn’t you do what you want to do?”

“It’s not a smart choice,” he shrugged. “I won’t make very much money...I don’t think—"

“I don’t think doing something you don’t love is a smart choice. I know it’s easier said than done...but who cares about money?”

She bit her lip. Harry wondered the last time someone encouraged him like that. Even his mum worried about his financial stability. “Music, eh?”

“I think so,” she answered. “How long until your mom comes home?”

“Fifteen or so.”

“Better kiss me again, then, Harry.”

It was the last time he kissed her. He was looking at her eyes, they were closed looking away from Harry—as if he pained her. He probably did.

“Do y’want to Uber back to your place?” He asked softly avoiding the previous topic.

“Don’t want me here?” She smirked wryly; the worry etched in her face from his last statement was gone and she turned back to face him.

“Don’t be silly, kitten.”

“Can I ask you a random question? And then I'll leave." He didn't want her to leave but he nodded anyway. "What are you majoring in?"

Harry wondered if she could see into his brain. There was no way she knew he was thinking about that without some sort of superhuman capabilities. She said that Harry always knew what she was thinking but here she was all the same, knowing exactly what was on his mind.

"Music."

She smiled, genuinely. So heartfelt, it ached Harry down to the bone. "Good."

Harry thought about love being a superhuman ability a lot when he fell asleep to the smell of her hair on his pillow.

Really, the song of her wrote itself.

--

taglist: @feestyles @sunshinemoonsposts @matildasatellite @asmilinghopefullromantic @macy-tpwk

[the-king-andthe-lionheart]

The rains did not let up. They rode through woods and fields, fording swollen streams where the rushing water came up to the bellies of their horses. Arya pulled up the hood of her cloak and hunched down, sodden and shivering but determined not to falter. Merrit and Mudge were soon coughing as bad as Watty, and poor Ned seemed to grow more miserable with every mile. "When I wear my helm, the rain beats against the steel and gives me headaches," he complained. "But when I take it off, my hair gets soaked and sticks to my face and in my mouth."

"You have a knife," Gendry suggested. "If your hair annoys you so much, shave your bloody head."

He doesn't like Ned. The squire seemed nice enough to Arya; maybe a little shy, but good-natured. She had always heard that Dornishmen were small and swarthy, with black hair and small black eyes, but Ned had big blue eyes, so dark that they looked almost purple. And his hair was a pale blond, more ash than honey. (Arya VIII ASOS)

So I just realized that the scene above has an earlier paralleling scene:

The rains came and went, but there was more grey sky than blue, and all the streams were running high. On the morning of the third day, Arya noticed that the moss was growing mostly on the wrong side of the trees. "We're going the wrong way," she said to Gendry, as they rode past an especially mossy elm. "We're going south. See how the moss is growing on the trunk?"

He pushed thick black hair from eyes and said, "We're following the road, that's all. The road goes south here."

We've been going south all day, she wanted to tell him. And yesterday too, when we were riding along that streambed. But she hadn't been paying close attention yesterday, so she couldn't be certain. "I think we're lost," she said in a low voice. "We shouldn't have left the river. All we had to do was follow it."

"The river bends and loops," said Gendry. "This is just a shorter way, I bet. Some secret outlaw way. Lem and Tom and them have been living here for years."

That was true. Arya bit her lip. "But the moss . . ."

"The way it's raining, we'll have moss growing from our ears before long," Gendry complained.

"Only from our south ear," Arya declared stubbornly. There was no use trying to convince the Bull of anything. Still, he was the only true friend she had, now that Hot Pie had left them. (Arya III ASOS)

I just find this really amusing.  In the top quote it’s raining and everyone is wet, Edric Dayne is getting ill, and he complains, and Gendry scoffs and is rude.  However, in an earlier scene Gendry is also complaining about the rain!  But what makes this even better is this parallel:

The next day they rode to a place called High Heart, a hill so lofty that from atop it Arya felt as though she could see half the world. Around its brow stood a ring of huge pale stumps, all that remained of a circle of once-mighty weirwoods. Arya and Gendry walked around the hill to count them. There were thirty-one, some so wide that she could have used them for a bed. (Arya IV ASOS)

By sunset they were at the top, making camp where no harm could come to them. Arya walked around the circle of weirwood stumps with Lord Beric's squire Ned, and they stood on top of one watching the last light fade in the west. From up here she could see a storm raging to the north, but High Heart stood above the rain. It wasn't above the wind, though; the gusts were blowing so strongly that it felt like someone was behind her, yanking on her cloak. Only when she turned, no one was there. (Arya VIII ASOS)

I just find it funny how obviously jealous Gendry is.  And in my opinion this whole Gendry/Arya/Edric triangle is meant to be a tamer mirror to the Robert/Lyanna/Rhaegar triangle.  Arya even looks and acts like Lyanna.  And Gendry looks like a young Robert.  And Edric has the same coloring as Rhaegar with the ash blonde (a dull sort of silver color) and they roughly have the same color of eyes.  Rhaegar’s eyes are a deep purple, almost indigo, while Edric’s eyes are a dark blue that look almost purple.  Of course, I feel this is just an innocent mirror and Gendry wouldn’t hurt Edric, and I also believe that Edric is just one Rhaegar parallel out of a couple of others in the story, but I do find this fascinating, and funny.  Poor Gendry is so jealous! LOL

[armandjolras]

This will be rambly and overly personal, but ive been wanting to talk about Fosca as chronic illness representation, and why the musical version of her is especially relatable in this sense.

(I also haven’t read the book, so maybe some changes im attributing to the musical are from the book)

In the movie, Fosca’s illness almost seems an extension of her ugliness, meant to horrify the viewer. Ugliness takes focus as her main burden; we’re told that she was shunned for her looks as a child and are shown many jumpscare shots of her face. Sickness is merely a consequence of ugliness. When not acutely ill, she seems quite healthy, even energetic. (Obviously having seizures is a very serious illness in real life, i just mean the way it’s presented in the movie).

Most interesting to me, she doesn’t seem depressed at all; she’s quite upbeat and witty. Her manipulative toxicity in the movie doesn’t come from depression, but rather because she’s never been treated as a woman due to being an outcast, so she doesn’t feel she has to adhere to the decorum of one.

In the musical, I see Fosca’s illness as being much more than just an extension of being ugly. It appears to affect her continuously between acute episodes, and she moves wearily as if fighting pain and discomfort at every moment. While suffering over ugliness still caused her illness in this version, that ugliness is not as emphasised. We’re told that her parents loved her rather than shunning her, so she wasn’t an outcast, and she’s depicted as more pathetic spinster than scary Nosferatu.

She is also clearly depressed. In my opinion, her toxic behaviour comes not from flouting social norms, but from the desperation of depression. Maybe others also relate to being depressed and behaving badly as a cry for help, unable to stop despite knowing you’re being toxic, because you need acknowledgment from people. I see Fosca’s behaviour this way. Georgio is the first person who is nice to her, so she physically can’t stop trying to extract love from him by any means, even when she admits she’s in the wrong.

I relate to Fosca strongly in this. Since 2020 I’ve struggled with multiple chronic illnesses which have limited my physical abilities; today I cant even sit upright for more than 15 minutes, some days less. Since I dont have any family or friends in the country where I’m living, and went through diagnosis and surgery alone mid Covid, at times I’ve felt very isolated. In 2022 i could tell I was behaving a lot like Fosca — I didnt do anything super toxic, but I was putting too much emotional burden on my long-distance parents even as I knew I was stressing them out and upsetting them. It felt like such a compulsion, because I was scared and isolated and wanted someone else to know how much I was suffering so I wouldn’t be alone it it. I’m much healthier mentally now, but that took therapy and medication which Fosca doesn’t have. Its a terrible feeling to see your world getting smaller and your dreams becoming less possible, and going through that alone.

I’ve had a lot of frustration towards how my illnesses have limited what I can do, and i have to make an effort not to be resentful towards healthier people. The line “I read about the joys the world / Dispenses to the fortunate / And listen for the echoes” really captures this. “I know how soon a dream becomes an expectation / How can I have expectations?” When your world gets smaller, you have to give up your hopes bit by bit so you dont get hurt. “Look at me / No, captain, look at me / Look at me!” In her desperation she demands his attention, even when she knows she’s being rude and repelling him, she just feels compelled to connect with someone.

I know “I Read” can be interpreted as being about her ugliness rather than of physical illness, and maybe that actually is the correct interpretation. But I’m very convinced that musical Fosca is depressed in a way that movie Fosca is not, and most of her words and actions stem from that. I also believe that by placing less emphasis on her shocking ugliness, it only makes since that a lot of her suffering is due to her physical illness. 

(And I also relate to Fosca’s final letter, where she says that appreciating the beauty in the world around you makes you want to go on living. Being ill has taught me to be much more grateful for small things in life.)

Other disclaimers: I dont mean Fosca’s suffering in the movie is NOT about her illness, in both versions its a combo of ugliness + illness. I just think they’re in different ratios. Also im not trying to be a Fosca apologist, I know shes super toxic and a stalker and essentially an incel, and also super annoying, I just understand her perspective. And finally I do like movie Fosca! Shes iconic I just relate to musical Fosca more.

[thesherrinfordfacility]

I'm going to preface this by saying this is not meant entirely an admonishment but more a reminder. It's also not aimed entirely at you specifically but rather people I've seen in notes on your posts, as well as Neil's. Neil is not lying about Crowley not being Lucifer and isn't going to surprise us with that suddenly being canon in the series. He quite literally can't do that now. He knows people are or will be making fanfic of it now. He now cannot ever use it. Same with the Raphael theory. Same with any other popular fan theory someone has taken to his inbox for confirmation, only to be denied. All that accomplishes is confirming he in no way will ever use any element of it in any of his writing going forward. So keep speculating! Keep having fun making theories! But stop taking them to Neil. All you do is ensure they will never be canon. As Neil always says, just wait and see.

hi anon✨

im going to take you at your word re: it not being entirely an admonishment or aimed at me. and choose to simply see this ask as a way of getting a general PSA out into the tumblr ether. that, i will gladly help with.

i respect your view and agree with it... i would however argue that personally i think the people that have been in my post notes in particular have been pretty respectful from what i recall, or at least have been very clearly joking.

there is, as far as im aware, a relatively small group of blogs that went generally full-ham on the theory (and perhaps im in that number, idk) but from what ive seen, following neil's ask, the majority have actually found the whole situation very funny...

maybe gone a bit ironic/sarcastic with "lmao imagine if he's lying" out of disappointment (me too!), but obviously joking and otherwise pretty respectful. honestly, i found the whole thing hysterical, i hammed up the Lucifer Theory Grief for an evening, and have since largely gotten over it. i think a lot of others have been the same.

however. i managed to read about 20 replies through That Neil Ask before i was starting to get pretty pissed off, by people on both sides of the lucifer argument:

i get why people were getting irritated by the pro-theoriers; the theory was debunked - move on, or take it off of the ask. i agree with that sentiment - other than rb'ing the ask twice and adding my tags, i left it alone and kept the dialogue on my own blog, and imo others should have done the same - just simply left the neil ask, and taken the discourse to their own blogs.

that being said, some of the anti-theoriers were coming across as outright rude, to the point for me of even being quite upsetting (and it wasn't even directed at me lmao). i get they were probably getting annoyed on behalf of neil, and that's admirable - but neil is a whole ass grown man. if he wanted people to stop commenting on his ask, i imagine he would have locked the post, posted a PSA, or just simply turned off his askbox. people do not need to police for him.

one thing i will point out, however, is that the lucifer theory came up on an rb, not directly in his inbox.

neil chose to respond to that rb (and the one after) entirely by his choice; it wasn't sprung on him in his inbox. noone should have to police their rbs or rb tags just in case he sees? direct inbox submission is a huge no-no (i agree with you, especially as he has actually asked for people to not do that), but this particular situation, ill be honest, does not fit that.

i also think the way both sides have reacted over the lucifer debunk has now unfortunately set a rather unsettling precedent for any other theory that might come out and people disagree with; ive been bracing myself for a potential shitstorm all day about my theory on the second coming for this very reason... and tbh i shouldn't have to feel like that.

everyone deserves to have fun in fandom-space, that's what makes it enjoyable and collaborative. if you (royal 'you') do not like a theory, or think it's a load of rubbish, either argue it back eloquently and with an open mind, instead of just being outright dismissive and making people feel stupid (as i felt after reading those replies, tbh), or leave that person/collective alone. it doesn't hurt you, it doesn't hurt anyone, and it's just people speculating and having fun with it.

now about the actual debunk of the theory itself - yes, i agree, it could be an IP nightmare potentially. i have further thoughts on this but i think im going to leave it there for now, my reply is already long enough✨

[shuttershocky]

maybe responding to such a personal post like this is kinda rude but oh man that like… reignited my motivation more than anything ive heard in my time at college yet. ive always been shit in school but i had an especially horrible time last year, failed too many courses, and ended up on probation. im terrified honestly because i have very strict parents that made probation sound like a death sentence when they told me about it before i started college. but goddamnit i love my program and i love what i study and i don’t care how many years it takes anymore im sticking to this shit until i graduate. anyways i guess im extremely grateful to have read that today. thank you!!!!!

Listen to me very carefully: If you love what you're studying no matter how hard it gets, you must keep that love with you no matter what happens.

Let's say absolute worst case scenario, you're kicked from the school despite your best efforts and they won't let you back in despite your best efforts. You keep that love with you still. You WILL find another way forward.

Something you learn when you're done with your schooldays is how insignificant all of it really is. I don't mean unimportant to you, but insignificant in how every point of no return in your life isn't the last one until you die; life makes you keep on living, and that means you can always keep going. There's always still another chance out there.

When I was a teenager, every adult around me stressed how my peers and I were at a critical point in our lives. Which colleges we apply to, which ones we would pass, what courses we would take, and whether we graduate with honors would change the rest of our lives; but none of them ever taught me that they wouldn't determine the rest of our lives either.

After having my childhood dream of becoming a paleontologist crushed (I'd have to go abroad which my family couldn't afford), I changed track to wanting to work on video games. However, my scholarship contract came with a set list of degree courses I could choose to take (all STEM stuff of course), and as this shit was written in the 1950s there was obviously nothing about game design in there.

So in between classes and during breaks I would go to local gamedev meetups and listen to lectures and seminars. From there I met some devs I would intern over the summer for. From there, I got hired as a writer for two different jobs, and took another internship (this time with college credit!). When I graduated I had mediocre grades that would never get me a six figure software engineering job, but I did have plenty of work experience for the industry I actually wanted to work in.

The first studio I worked in as a graduate didn't have an opening for a game designer but did have one for marketing, and they were small enough that I'd basically still be working on the games anyway, so I shrugged my shoulders and went for it despite no real relevant marketing experience. I got the job.

Years later when we were downsizing due to the pandemic and I got let go, one of the people I worked for in my college days was now looking for a writer for a mix of both marketing copy and editing in-game text, and well shit, I just spent some time learning how to write marketing copy, what a coincidence.

Don't get me wrong. Living under capitalism has a way of sticking you into dead ends and life in general likes to mix you up and slam many doors in your face. You'll grow up in ways you did not foresee nor plan for, and if it's not soul-sucking boredom it's the fear of the unknown that will be chasing you as you stumble your way through life.

That's why i'm telling you to hold on to that love of what you're studying. When you realize so many decisions are life-changing but none of them can truly set the future in stone, loving something like that helps you find your way forward.

And if later on you find that it's not what you want, let it go without fearing you wasted your time. I firmly believe that you can always find something new with what you learned, and that love is never wasted.

I still have my old dinosaur books from when I was a kid. I didn't just want the stuff written for children, I wanted the lavishly illustrated books with scientific descriptions and essays that I thought real scientists used (it turns out even these are just laughably baby shit to them).

These books were what taught me how to read and write more complex English, which eventually became the skills I used to find work as a writer decades later.

[bitbrumal]

                                                   QUESTION    ↤  @galactia​  ::  👫 + our ship & i’ll give you 4 facts  ↩

       ‘👫 (Zhong and Kaeya? ;D)’

i hate u ( affectionate ) for sending me this bc istg i TRIED to just write 4 snappy points but kaeya’s everything in response to zhongli is so juicy i kept writing whole posts on his psyche. i cut that shit & it’s still long as balls. this could have been about goddamn pancakes but i wanted to dig deeper & then it went too deep & now-

I.

kaeya goes out of his way to have possessions, tokens, or even parts of zhongli to physically entwine with him especially in his absence. the man’s generous in his affections, but the distance between them is generous too. whether it be braiding brown & gold into his own blue, voluntarily gifted- donning the fine robe zhongli had gifted him around christmas- piercing his ear a second & third time to wear cor lapis as close to inside him as is medically reasonable.          yes he eyes zhongli’s personal possessions when he’s over. yes he leaves his own most intimate ones when he leaves.

II.

although kaeya’s never bothered to learn to love anything, he’s so enamoured that he will try his best to enjoy bamboo shoot soup. it’s just... he hates bamboo.

III.

frequently breaks his brain over what to gift zhongli, & is RomanticTM enough to feel like,,, maybe to a man who sees how feral & rotten hollow he is about the concept of ‘love’... perhaps his heart is finally a fitting gift?           but then that seems stupid, so kaeya silently makes use of his inheritance & designs something achingly lovely. its weight & texture will be pleasant to the touch; the picture it makes a delight for the eyes. kaeya’s incredibly embarrassed about the wall of but i want my heart to be the gift he wants that continually gets in the way of any of these feats. just seems a bit rude to consider that burnt out husk of a heart an appropriate return gift.

IV.

zhongli’s endless dignity is the feathery lure to kaeya’s naughty, shameless cat behaviour. he gives exactly zero fucks about the man / god’s reputation--( since he’s fully convinced he can handle whatever's thrown at him anyway )--& will proceed to drag his own through the mud by smacking the man’s ass when he’s in the middle of a conversation, climbing him like a tree as they stroll through the market, snuggling up to him like a well-fed alley cat, & generally be affectionate in all the silly physical ways better suited to privacy.                    naturally, he has no intentions of actually crossing any real boundaries - just the ✨annoying✨ ones~~.

[ classified redacted essay under the cut. ]

I.

zhongli brings him a sense of belonging that outstrips the cold, horrible confidence that he’ll always be allowed back with his first ‘family’. a kindness that is fair, just, & lacks the blind willingness to sell himself cheap that diluc had had as a boy ( & possibly still has ). he brings an authority to the table that is more competent & dignified than varkas’, or all the current captains manning the ship in his wake combined. warmer than diluc by being less intense- & cold in warmth’s excess -than heat. more tempered--              hasn’t drawn a blade on him, fine, we’ll say it.        he comes with a stability that kaeya has never experienced - a sort of security that no doubt comes in part from his faux endlessness. but it’s the way he goes about being a person that grants someone in his company all these boons. it’s a shockingly ravenous thing. hadn’t known it could be this luxurious- just being around someone. is it less shallow for being more personal? or can he not say he loves him deeply, hah.

kaeya, in comparison, is only beneficial to be around when under duress. his qualities are mainly feigned so as to be wanted around long enough to do some benefiting himself. he tries very hard not to do that around zhongli unless he’s been too much of a bore. depression is a buzz kill.

II.

there is a special way zhongli clicks into his trauma & unlocks it, lets it flow freely 'away’. because much of kaeya’s terror toward him is direct. it’s morax he’s afraid of; one of celestia’s approved archons, one of those who fought in the war ( even if kaeya has apparently, deliciously / gratefully, misunderstood how )... all his life kaeya has been terrified because he now lives within the ‘eye of the seven’ or whatever. it could not be confronted with absent barbatos... even if kaeya after a few years deliberately went to a statue of him to see if he would, perhaps, be punished for existing some more.                  but zhongli not only allowed him to face & process his terror, he... despite kaeya having definitely not earned himself any points with a gentle, self-deprecating tone - by being forgiving, by blaming himself, by making it easy for rex lapis... being charming, being nice, being manipulative-

            he was allowed to hate & grieve & claw.

zhongli could have done actually anything. & continues to be able to. but does not. & not only is that true, but he makes a massive fucking point out of it.            kaeya never asked to be healed. he wanted to be dealt with, to be done with it all. if he had to fear something he had no hope at all to control- kill me or yield to me. the dragon does neither,..     fairly, kindly, honestly. wouldn’t stand for false accusations but stood for anything else-

the best man he’s ever met is a god & he’s furious about it. or perhaps, perhaps he’s just- perhaps this is another kind of passion. ah, yes -- all that hatred ( & boy is there hatred ) transmuted into love. recontextualised by the mind yet, stemming from the same generous part of the brain.

           it is the strongest emotion kaeya can give,                & it is breathtaking to be proud to gift it to him.

        my condemner, love me whole.

III.

kaeya is a little worried he’s just met a god so kind he’s... in a relationship founded on pity. but zhongli continues to be kind & open, & while it is impossible not to doubt - it is shockingly hard to have no reason to believe in something far too good to be true.

          it’s just that kaeya trusts in vulnerability & cruelty,     & the balance makes some sense. he could be strung along for a greater payoff later -- but kaeya has met one other impossibly kind man. even if they no longer speak. diluc made it possible at all for him to believe something like this, but that’s not anywhere near enough. zhongli-

[cody-apexart]

Day 12

This is honestly more or less a shitting on apex post. I apologies, but srsly. My time in Saigon has been so enjoyable, I really love this city and most of the experiences I have had, but the organization and communication style implemented by apex is making this less fun! Im in a bad mood, and had a bad day. Here’s the play by play:

I feel like the zoom mediation class today really set my day up for failure. Ive been practicing mediation on and off for over half my life— at this point Im pretty particular about what I like, and have tried out a lot of different styles to figure out what I enjoy and what works for me. This zoom meditation class lead by some man in southern California really was more of an hour long lecture of this dude talking about how he used to be depressed but now he isnt, and maybe 15 min of mediation max. I was all about work, like work like jobs, like capitalist meditation. When he said the phrase “hiring managers read your energy body” I knew I had heard enough. Which was kinda for the best, because I started looking at my email and noticed two had just come in from apex! One contained information that said the pottery class on my sched started at 9am not 10am. I had been preped to get there at 10, and at the time I was reading that email, it was already after 9am. I called the studio and they said I could still attend, though I did miss an hour of workshop time. Also, once I got there they said the ceramics wont be ready for 2 weeks. In 2 weeks I wont be here anymore. Why wouldn’t yall schedule this class earlier in my schedule? Also it was noted in my sched that the class would cost 40000 VND, but it was really 400000 VND. I also got an email from apex that I was RSVPd for a tech company business mixer. I hadn’t noticed it on my schedule because it was set for the wrong time, the event was probably entered in EST, so it was coming up on friday instead of thursday and was kinda hidden by the other long event on my friday sched. This email was my first time hearing about it, and since I was already reeling from the meditation class and time change to pottery I was like wtfffff.

Like what type of weird ass shit is that? Send someone with no tech experience to an even that is intended for people working in tech and living in Vietnam? Its just like why send me to crash their party? I don’t really understand, there are so many other places I could talk to strangers without being so out of place, like out of place in a way that kinda feels disrespectful and disruptive to the event. I dont mind being out of place or having to talk to stagers, but it just feels rude to show up to an event I rly have no business being at. Since the story slam, anything that comes off eventbrite I am very skeptical of.

Idk why nearly everything on the schedule feels like its made out to be a riddle. The times are wrong, the addresses are wrong. I can never just do what the calendar says and expect it to work out seamlessly. I feel like I spend so much troubleshooting shit that should already be taken care of.

Also I still havnt been reimbursed for this plane ticket?! Even though I sent the necessary info twice, and it says in a number of places that I can request reimbursement whenever id like. Similarly, the agreement I signed notes 45 days will be given in advance to get a visa if necessary, I was given 6 six businesses days notice. Like all of this is just causes what feels like /unnecessary/ stress, unless that feeling is all part of the program too? Im trying to just learn a lesson in loosing control.

Anyway, I went a little rouge today and didnt go to capoeira. I was emotionally exhausted, and my ankle is a little weird and clicky from walking so much. This is the first activity ive skipped-- I probably wouldnt have skipped it if I didnt already do the class last week, but knowing how intense it was, and how bad I felt, it was the right decision for me today. I cant wait for this upcoming day off. Two weeks non-stop is starting to get to me.

I went to a later screening of the movie since my evening was free, and wow, another movie centered around a traumatic pregnancy experience. The main character miscarried during a robbery at 6 months. I watched the trailer this time to avoid this type of thing, but it didnt reveal that plot point. actually the whole movie was actually about really toxic abusive relationships, but the trailer made it seem like a comedy. Anyway this was less fucked up than the abortion horror movie, but still fucked up. okay, but also the main character did ceramics, and i did a ceramics class this morning...was that planned? how curated are these days? I think this trip is the only time I have ever been in a movie theater without a friend or companion. Watching movies alone is totally new for me, just like how ive literally never used a pottery wheel before today. Also mark making scares me so painting the ceramic bowl I made was notably difficult for me. I am incredibly grateful for these experiences despite everything i just vented about.

[utteringtruth]

Day… ??

20 after midnight and I’m wide awake… I mean yes that shot of meth might have something to do with it but that’s besides the point. “What the fuck are you doing?”- the voice in the back of my head, constantly repeating this question. And how the hell did it get this bad this fast? Within a month I was slamming (or banging-for those who prefer that term, I personally do not) (and for those who are fortunate enough to not abuse drugs, slamming means shooting up) i was back to slamming like i never stopped. It’s been about 2months now since I relapsed, in the beginning i made sure to just stick to smoking… i really didn’t wanna start shooting up… I mean i was only ganna use for a couple days anyways (ha… in my case, i dont use drugs… drugs use me)… and using needles just means a bigger monkey to get off your back… well that changed very quickly… my poor fucking arms, all bruised and tore up. I’m really ganna hate myself 2maro morning, i have to be back at work at 5am… and today sucked ass. All the stares i got, the awkwardness of them knowing I’m high as fuck, and me knowing that they know but pretending like everything is fucking rainbows and fucking butterflies. Ive lost my ass and tits, I look sick. I went from 138lbs to 115lbs… i just gotta make it thru this month. Boss man leaves on Monday for 2weeks, he comes back and i leave to Reno. Reno? Yes Reno… that’s my plan… since I’m a fucking lame that literally cannot stop using drugs unless i get arrested with new felony charges… i will be going to Reno for a week to get clean. I have to get away for a lil bit away from everything and everyone. I just have to make it to the 24th with out doing anything stupid or illegal. Don’t fuck this up, just make it till then… the idea was Lucas, he’s such a fucking sweetheart and I’m putting him thru hell… well I’m ganna go wash my face and try to get an hour or 2 of sleep before i hate myself even more than i do now… but then again I’ve been saying that almost every night and every night i find myself picking the shit outta my arms at 3am and hating myself even more which I didn’t think was possible… Kids… don’t do drugs. Oh and i have to go drop the key off at the gift shop, the one i just got fired because anytime i pick back up and use… i end up fucking everything up. Addiction is sad and lonely, my heart goes out to anyone out there battling addiction… i wouldn’t wish it on my enemy. Nothing has ever brought me so high and at the same time so fucking low as using… and just in case no one asked, because all they see is a drugged out nobody… “is everything ok? How are you?” And sure you might lie, or i might lie to just get someone off my back and say “I’m fucking wonderful… i love my life” and sure just maybe they might be insincere, or just being fucking nosy… but at least it would be nice to know that at least 1 person… just 1… cared enough and got the fuck over themselves to at least ask. So if someone in your life, important or maybe that cute lil Mexican girl that works at 711… that used to glow, and smile (well sometimes) she’s nice but she can be pretty bitchy… that now looks sad, and rough and god damn lost way too much weight.. she looks sick. And looks like she’s on a sick one every single time u see her… what the fuck happened? You know something ain’t right… just ask… you don’t have to be noisy or pry. Just ask, “hey, you doing alright? Is everything ok? I don’t mean to be rude or pry or be nosy… just wondering if your ok?” Are you ok? Such a simple question with the most complicated answer. Get your shit together i keep telling myself. Holy shit I’m fucking rambling, get your ass to bed!!! Holy fucking shit i just got a text message from the crazy meth fulled ex of this dick wad of a guy i kicked it with for a couple days… fuck my life… seriously kids do not do drugs. Till later - xoxo

[am3ricanj3sus]

5/3

no song of the day today. i didnt feel to connected to any songs today and it didnt feel right to put one. anywyas though. im wirting on my laptop today. it feels weird. i feel weird. maybe its just how life has been going. a issue that ive been having most of my life pop up again and im tired of dealing with it.

basically i was life long friends with this girl and yk we had our ups and downs (a whole lotta downs) but we alwyas got on with it. well she got on with it. she would randomly get mad at everthing, blame me for it in someway and i became the problem. it happened mutiple times and i grew sick of it but i really didnt care. maybe i sound cocky but ik that at the end she would come back. she always did.

but like 8 months ago. she started seeing this guy. and it escalated quick. she like asked us his name and who he was then a week later she tells us "oh my boyfriend dropped me off after we got food" so ofc we're like boyfriend? okay... and we didnt bring it up. the thing is, our friend group didnt like the guy she started seeing. he was rude to our friends and has done someover all shady stuff. so we just warned her and wow suprise she didnt listen and got with him. then she got all offended when we didnt comment on the fact her bf brought her home. so we gave her a small "yay bf!" but yk we told her we dont like him so we really didnt want to talk about him. and thats what fucking set a wire off in her dumbass brain. she was going on about how we never support her, which was the craziest lie ever because we all supported her and her other crazy ass ex bf and all the dumb stuff she does. and we were like "hey we can be friends still, we just really dont want to talk about him" and like the whole time she was texting this guys and she was telling him "omg theyre ruining my mental health"

and i think i may have pushed a little over board but i was sick of her asking like some entitled bitch that needs her friends to agree with her all the time. so i kind of just brought up everything shes ever done to me :) like the time i too her to disneyland and she literally complained in the car, ON TWITTER, about how she had to go back and we were forcing her. and its like, girl. my mother payed for you to be here. do NOT play. and i understand her frustration to a point becuase we were at the park that morning from like 9 to 1 but we had like a 6 hour break at the hotel and didnt go back till 7. and we couldnt just leave her there becuase her mom didnt want her to be alone in the room so its like... girl you have to come. so were in the car on the way back to the park and shes like spaming her twitter "theyre forcing me to go back! im crying. i dont want to be here" SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU UNGREATFUL LITTLE BITCH. like girl... girl...BITCH. i couldnt even.

then i brought up the fact that she let her ex bf like disrespect tf outta me. like he burped in my face, didnt say sorry, disrespected my family and callled me a bitch unprovoced. like she just let these things happen then got mad when i defended myself. talking about some "you had no right to say that to him" girl he had no right to act that way towards me but okay,

then i just brought up how much she just disregards me. like im nothing. and i truly felt like that the entire time i was friends with her. an that was most of my life.

she didnt respond to that message. she simply left the group chat then blocked me. couldnt take the fucking heat ig.

and i dont care what happens to her. she could burn in the deepest pit of hell. and maybe ill go to hell for saying that. but i mean it. ive never wanted someone to suffer more.

and that leads me to this topic. she has no friends now. and im glad. she doesnt deserve anything or anybody. no one deserves to be put through what i went though with her. theres so much more that happened with her that i dont even want to relive. but shes like searching for attention now. she texted a mutual friend of ours recently and i told him, dont text her back. and he fucking texts her anyway. now im not trying to dictate who he can and cant be friends with but she did him dirty too so i dont know why he even wanted to talk to her.

and thats anothet thing that pisses me off. people feel bad for her. like what the hell. even people that were with me the night of the argument. they feel bad that she has no friends. and i get having sympahty for her but what the hell. you were there, you know what she did so why on gods green earth do you feel that for her? it just sets this rage in me on fire and i want everyone to disappear.

i genuinley cant. like omg. it just makes me so angery and people dont get why im so mad about her. she just fucked over 12 years of friendship over some guy she only dated for 6 months.

but to make myself happy. i realized im over my crush on my friend. i think it was just a spur of the moment thing really. he has a gf now so its whatever really. ill miss that time of my life.

i didnt see mr c today im so sad. i even walked around a little during his prep and i didnt even see him walking around with his teacher besties. its okay though. i guess ill get over it :(

i did see my coco pookie though and i dont know what it is but its like im not looking for him as much anymore. i mean he wasnt here the other day and i missed him but when he has been here i dont even watch him that much. its just. i dont know. maybe i just want him to be around since he was my crush this.

another day. another slay. i love yapping. this was the first time i gen got out most of my emotions about that bitch and it have this weird relief. like my chest feels light in a way. maybe writting should be a daily thing for me. love love love. muah ha ha

[glitchdollmemoria]

big long diary esque ramble about jewish conversion below the cut bc mmmm the paragraphs

its sinking in that now that im finally settling into a synagogue i feel comfortable in, im gonna have a community i can celebrate the holidays with, and i can actually learn firsthand how to celebrate them... really fucking exciting

i dont know when ill be able to actually officially start the conversion process, both because im flat broke and idk how much everything would cost AND bc this synagogue is still looking for an official rabbi rather than guest speakers (transitional period since the last rabbi moved away), but in the meantime i feel like im very quickly being taken under the congregations collective wing yknow? so im excited to start celebrating jewish holidays with other people who know what theyre doing rather than having to cobble together what i can while i sit in my apartment lmao

overall im really really happy to finally be attending. its been way too long since ive been able to regularly attend a congregation. and this one is a conservative synagogue, and ive only ever attended reform synagogues before. the one i went to back in my old town was great, i adored the people there and the way we worshipped and everything was so comfortable, it was absolutely where i needed to be during that time. but based on my research and my experiences so far, im fairly confident conservative is the movement for me. this synagogue is definitely where im meant to be now, and my thoughts are basically... while my partner and i do have a plan on where we want to live someday, thats still years down the line most likely, bc im poor and hes in college, so im HOPING that this synagogue will be the one i attend throughout my conversion. i mean id be fine with starting here and having to transfer rabbis later but im mostly hoping ill be finished up before that time comes

theres something very familiar about this congregation. something in the grain of the wood, and in the worn out books of the library. its comfortable and welcoming and it tells me this is where im supposed to be, at least right now.

also - i keep thinking back to when i attended the reform synagogue in this city. the service itself was great, but i didnt really feel like i fit in with the others, especially the people my age. one of the other 20-somethings said that the people at the conservative synagogue were all "boomers" or smth who were unaccepting in some way or another, and idk if she had her own bad experience here which i really wouldnt want to brush off, but so far everyone has been very kind. i was immediately welcomed once i explained that im wanting to convert, multiple people went out of their way to help me and invite me to stay longer and attend more events. i was immediately regarded as a man, and maybe that was because i was wearing a suit and my voice is deep from hrt but it was still very reassuring either way - an older man told me very firmly to put on a kippah and while i joked with my friends that i felt like a kid being lightly chastised, it was still a really nice feeling to not only be seen as a man but to have someone insist on me following that custom.

and then afterward, over lunch, i was chatting with the other congregants and ended up talking about my partner, and referred to it with multiple pronoun sets and explained that it uses any pronouns. nobody was rude at all about that fact, and one man was clearly a little confused by me switching around words and pronouns but was very very obviously doing his best to be respectful and understand as best as he could. he said he was working on understanding these things better for his kids iirc.

overall i feel like this synagogue is a safe place for both myself AND my partner, should it ever visit and want to attend with me. yes, most of the people here are elderly, but everyone was friendly and so far people have been respectful when it comes to queerness and conversion. id say the worst thing i heard someone say was a small dig at reform judaism, but even then, another member was quick to shut him down.

it frustrates me a little to think that the people here might be getting labeled as intolerant in one way or another if thats not really the case, if its just because theyre older. again, i dont want to brush off any bad experiences someone else mightve had, but i also worry that there might be some preconceived notions at play here, yknow? but i guess in the end theres not much use dwelling on it. im just happy to feel at home in a congregation again, and to feel like im back on track making more progress toward my conversion. im glad to be meeting all these people and finding my place in a community instead of feeling so isolated so much of the time.

[of-the-true-autumn]

bunch of nonsense about raiding in xiv under the cut

i think the shittiest thing about wanting to actually start doing savage again is that after the shit fest i went through in edens verse, my self worth as a raider and even a casual player is like -5000. and like it's not even that i was a bad raider to begin with. just people were shit and even people in my own static made me feel like i was sub par. and someone whom i am no longer close to, as the last thing she ever said to me was about how i had no right to be in savage and i didn't belong there and should just quit. and as stupid as it is i never got over that, because she always had made me feel like she believed in me and that i could clear the tier. and then suddenly i felt like she was just lying to make me feel better, and maybe she was.

but now it's like, i can raid with rin. and i'll be able to enjoy raiding again cause her and i have wanted to raid together for a long time, and have been trying to since 5.4 but life always got in the way so we couldn't. but she's cleared p5s and p6s now because she wants to clear TOP. and i'd like to do TOP too but. i still have a complicated relationship with raiding. i've had lots of issues with people in this game being mean to me for making simple mistakes or just for trying to learn things on different roles than what i normally play. and i'd be lying if said that didn't taint my view of raiding. couple that with my old static and everything in edens verse ive sorta come to feel like maybe it is true, that i don't belong in savage, let alone ultimate. and rin has been raiding since stormblood and i don't want her to feel like i'm holding her back by making her sit through p5s and p6s again while i learn it because i wouldn't even be able to start till at least the beginning of march because i've been dealing with life stress as well as my own health issues. logically i know she would never feel like i'm holding her back, because she enjoys high end stuff more when we get to do it together because we enjoy just doing whatever together. but also it doesn't feel fair to her for me to start so late when she'll likely be on p8s by then and make her sit through it all again while i learn it when she could go on and be bis and start TOP. and the more i think on it the more i feel like im too docile and afraid to stand up to rude people due to hating confrontation and cause of past static stuff, that i just don't really have a place in savage anymore, let alone an ultimate.

also the plugin debates aren't helping jack shit because i've always been made to feel inferior for playing on console. and people act like shit can't be cleared without zoom hacks or whatever which isn't true. but i can't deal with the constant feeling of 'you can't clear high end shit cause you play on a controler and on console'. like i play on console cause 1. i enjoy it more and 2. i am poor as fuck with a lot of medical debt and other shit i cannot afford to buy a gaming pc or build my own.

which at the end of the day it all just sucks because when people weren't assholes, i loved raiding. i had a lot of fun with it and i had fun helping some of my friends who i did get along with from my old static discover a love of raiding too. like it's complicated. i love raiding, but i don't know if there's a place for me in it anymore, no matter how much i want to do it and how much i want to raid with rin like we always talked about doing.

[weebswrites]

Heyy! I recently came across your blog and a absolutely love your writing! 🥰

Would it be possible to request an angst hc with the Obey me brothers? So maybe the bros were having a bad day and they lash out at the MC. The MC leaves them alone and the brothers don’t hear from them for hours and think MC just doesn’t want to talk to them but in reality MC got attacked and is barely alive. And maybe MC summons the brother with what little strength they have left so the brother is met with an MC laying in front of them almost dead.

Ah I’m sorry I know this is a lot so feel free to ignore this if it’s too much! Have a good day :D

A/N: YES YES YES I LOVE THIS THANK YOU ANON

The Demon Bros Saving Your Life (this will have swear words and light descriptions of violence so if that makes you uncomfortable read at your own discretion pls I love u guys)

Lucifer

“MC, please just leave me alone” he spat, trying to stay calm but losing his patience quickly

“Lucifer, I’m not letting you shove me away. You can do that to your brothers, but not to me” you insist, remembering your conversation where he said to ignore him when he tried to push you away

“I’ll do what I want to you, human, don’t forget your place” he boomed, so loud your eyes reactively filled with tears

“Fine, do what you want” you mutter at him before storming out, slamming the door behind you

He knew he fucked up, but wasn’t in the headspace to chase after you, so he stayed in his office and worked. He’d apologize later

You ran out of the HoL, just wanting to be out of Lucifer’s reach for a bit. You decide to go to Purgatory Hall to visit Simeon, your best friend outside of the HoL, but take the scenic route there to clear your head a bit and calm down. Before you know it the sun is setting, and figure you should get to Simeon’s sooner rather than later.

“Hey, aren’t you Lucifer’s bitch” you hear from an alleyway, and suddenly you’re just as annoyed as before. But you know better than to engage with any demons that are egging you on like that, so you keep walking

Then you’re grabbed from behind and slammed against a brick wall, hitting your head roughly against the surface

“Fuck” you exhale, vision already blurring

“Think you can ignore me, human? You’re weak here, nothing” the demon drove a fist into your stomach, causing you to cough

“I’ll show you not to come back to the Devildom ever again, filthy human”

By the time he was done you were a bloody mess crumpled on the ground, in the fetal position to protect your vital organs as much as you could, but you felt yourself losing consciousness

The demon spat on you before leaving, laughing as he walked away. Your body was in so much pain, and you felt yourself losing your grip on reality

You could felt your lips moving as your vision turned to black, and your last coherent thought before blacking out was realizing you were summoning Lucifer

“I...summon the Avatar of Pride...” you inhaled as much as you could, but his name came out a whisper, “Lucifer”

You saw his legs appear before you lost consciousness, thankful you were actually able to summon him

“What the fuck” was his first comment, as he didn’t see you at his feet, but as soon as he did he felt his heart shatter

“MC! Fuck, MC. MC?” he shook you very lightly, and when you didn’t respond he went into overdrive. He picked you up gently in his arms after examining where you were most badly injured, as to not make anything worse

He was in demon form from the moment he saw you, wanting as much of his strength at his disposal as he could have. He flew you to the nearest hospital (idk if there’s a hospital in the devildom but there is now) and demanded you be placed in the best care possible, and also made it very clear that he wasn’t going to leave your side

He watched as doctors sewed your wounds closed and put an IV in your arm, unable to take his eyes off their every move. After a few hours, the doctor turned to Lucifer

“They should wake up within a few hours,” the doctor said before leaving

“Thank you. Please mail the bill to Lord Diavolo and I’ll take care of it” he said, figuring that was easier than having to fill out the HoL on paperwork

He was then alone with you, and he scooted his chair next to your bed and took your hand in his, holding it gently

“I’m so sorry, MC” he whispered and pressed his lips to the top of your hand as he tried not to cry

He sat there for what felt like hours, but just twenty minutes passed before he felt you move slightly

Your eyes fluttered open, and you took a moment to adjust to the lights

You felt warmth around your hand, and recognized it instantly, looking to your side and locking eyes with Lucifer

“Luci” you whisper, voice hoarse from not having used it for hours

“MC, I’m so sorry” his voice was soft and you could tell how distraught he was, “I never should have snapped at you, it was out of place and rude and I’m sorry” he rambled on like this for a minute, and you just appreciated his genuine care for you as you listened to him speak

“Lucifer” you cut him off, “Thank you for taking care of me. I forgive you”

Mammon

“Just get a job! Then your brothers won’t shit on you all the time” you suggested. Mammon had come to you venting about how some of his brothers had ganged up on him again and demanded that they pay him back. You were more understanding than you probably should have been with him, but wanted him to be proactive and get himself out of this on his own

“It isn’t that easy! Damnit MC, I thought you understood me!” he snapped, and you decided you should just let him cool down

“Look, Mammon. I’m always here for you with this, but you can’t keep complaining about this and not doing anything about it when there’s an easy solution. I have to go study with Satan for a test we have, so I’m going to go meet him. Text me when you’ve calmed down”

You meant it to be caring, but his mind was clouded, and he took it as you pitying him and running away - his greatest fear

“Fine!” he huffed, turning his back to you

You were saddened by this, but genuinely had to go, so you turned and left, thankful for the bit of time that you knew Mammon needed alone to clear his head

You were walking to the library, in the middle of a text to Satan when you accidentally bumped into another demon

“Shit, my bad” you apologize, but the demon had no intention of letting you get away with that

“A human, eh?” he grabbed your shirt collar and instantly drove a fist to your jaw

“What the fuck” you tried to say, but couldn’t really speak

The demon punched you a few more times, and you thought that they had the strength of Beel with how much it hurt

Your body was tossed to the ground and kicked before being abandoned, and you wished you didn’t take the back way to the library

“I summon the Avatar of Greed, Mammon” you whispered, hoping your words were enunciated enough for the summoning to work

“MC!” he noticed you instantly, crouching down and putting a hand on your arm, “MC what happened. Wait don’t talk, can you stand?”

You began to sit up, which he took as a yes, and he wrapped his arm around you to help you stand

He studied your injured face as you stood, and wished he had the power to heal you instantly

“Come on MC, the hospital is close”

“T-Text Satan I’m not coming” you handed him your phone, not wanting Satan to think that you ditched him

Mammon exhaled a laugh through his nose, “You’re always thinking of others, MC” he commented, “We really don’t deserve you”

You just shook your head, feeling like you didn’t deserve the joy the demons brought you

Mammon stayed by your side until you were completely healed, which took a few weeks. He even signed up for a job with Akuzon DC. It was the most selfless you’d ever seen him, and you thanked him for his kindness once you were healed with a gift card to his favorite store

Leviathan

“Just stop! I get it, you have other friends, I don’t care. Go have fun with them” he snapped. Levi hadn’t slept in about 48 hours and you could tell

“Levi, please sleep. I’ll be back in a few hours” you try to comfort him, but he isn’t hearing it

“Whatever, MC”

You’re hurt by his attitude, but know he’s just exhausted. You turn to leave and plan to head back to him a bit sooner to spend extra time with him (quality time love language lookin demon) (also the avatar of envy but that’s not as funny of a joke so)

You were planning to meet with some classmates to study, but you ran into a demon on your way that had been bullying you for being human for the whole semester

You hadn’t told any of the brothers because you didn’t want to make a big deal about it, but you were worried suddenly what the demon would do to you outside of the school grounds

“Hey, it’s the human” she snarled, stepping in front of you to stop your path

“Sorry, I’m busy” you tried to walk around her, but she had no intention of letting you go unscathed

“Not so fast” she stomped her foot over yours to stop you and shoved you back against a light pole nearby

You felt the cold metal slam against your spine and grunted in discomfort

“Can’t take a little pain? That’s too bad” she said, taking you by your shirt and  throwing your body on the road

She kicked your body for what felt like minutes while spitting insults at you, before leaving your weakened body on the ground

You tried to get up once she was gone but screamed in pain, not able to move a muscle

“I summon the Avatar of Envy, Leviathan,” you said, tears starting to run down your face at his name

“Levi, Levi please, help me” you whispered as he appeared

“MC, I’m here” he kneeled down beside you and inspected your body, “I’m here, don’t worry”

“Levi” your hand tightened around his jacket, “Help”

He picked you up, maintaining your position in his arms, and took you to the hospital as fast as he could while keeping you comfortable

He stayed by your side as much as he was legally allowed to while the doctors cared for your torso and x-rayed your foot. After a day or so you were allowed home, and he insisted that he stayed by your side until you were completely healed

Satan

“MC, I’ve asked you eight times to leave me alone, I’m clearly trying to read, can’t you take the hint?” he sighed exasperatedly and waited for you to leave, not intending his words to be so harsh but he figured you’d be fine

You were not fine! What the fuck Satan.

“Fine, screw you then” you retorted and left, slamming the door behind you

He realized that you weren’t fine, but wanted to finish his book. Then he’d apologize. But when we went to your room later that night to talk, you didn’t answer.

“MC, come on, open up. I’m sorry for earlier, can we just talk?”

Beelzebub was walking by, “I haven’t seen them since this morning, they left the house crying” he said awfully casually, “I never saw them come back”

Satan felt the blood drain from his face and he ran out of the HoL, ignoring Beel’s “I’m sure they’re fine now!” from behind him

He barely made it out of the doors before he was summoned, and he was confused before he realized the only way he could be summoned was by you

As soon as he was there he saw you, thrown against a dumpster, barely able to hold yourself up

“Satan” you called, voice weak, and he was at your side in less than a second

He stood in front of you and you got on his back, wrapping your arms over his neck

“Tell me what happened. Who did this” his voice was firm and you could almost feel the anger radiating off him

You muttered a name under your breath before resting your head on his shoulder, trying everything you could to not pass out

“Satan, talk to me. I can’t stay awake”

That scared him, so he walked to the hospital a bit faster, but gently still as to not cause you any extra pain

He started telling you about his book since that was all he did that day, but it ended up turning into a long apology for pushing you away and raising his voice earlier. You would have cut him off but you didn’t have the strength to, so you just listened to his words, noticing the thought he had clearly put into them throughout the day

“Satan-” you started, and he instantly stopped to listen, “I forgive you”

He was silent, a sense of relief and appreciation for you washing over him and he thanked you for your understanding of his anger as you arrived at the hospital

Similar to Lucifer, he demanded you to be seen by the best doctor there was on staff, price be damned. He watched intensely as the doctor checked you out, eyeing them up and down to make sure they were good enough and treating you with the same care he would

Once you were released he had Diavolo send a car to drive the two of you back to the HoL, where Satan had had your room prepared with new pillows (the kind you mentioned liking from his room, as well as new ones of the ones you had), freshly washed sheets and duvet, and a cup of your favorite drink waiting for you (he definitely didn’t bribe his brothers to get your room ready, not that it took much bribing)

In addition, each of the brothers had pitched in to get you flowers and a stuffed animal that you’d mentioned wanting, a few weeks ago. The sight of it all made you tear up, and you wrapped Satan in the tightest hug he’d ever gotten

Asmodeus

“I appreciate you trying to cheer me up, MC, but I just need some time by myself,” he said, and you could tell he was losing his patience

“Are you sure?” you offer one last time before leaving, wanting to make sure he really wanted to be alone

“Yes! I am!” he snapped, and you felt bad for pushing

“Sorry, Asmo. Feel better” you leave and take care to close the door as quietly as you can on your way out

You were having a bit of a bad day yourself, so you decide to go walk around the devildom and let the fresh air clear your head

Which ended up being a bad idea, as you ran into one of the demons that always hit on you in one of your classes.

“Hey, MC, you finally aren’t with any of those idiot brothers” he approached you and tried to touch your arm, but you pushed it away

“Oh, they’re fiesty. I’ll have to teach you a lesson” he spat on the ground next to you and before you knew it he pushed you against a wall and was punching you senseless

It felt like he’d never stop, but eventually it did, and he left you to bleed on the road. You tried to stand up, not thinking your injuries would be that servere, but you couldn’t move. You sighed and closed your eyes, exhaustion suddenly washing over you

You knew you probably had a concussion and some broken ribs, and that you shouldn’t lose consciousness, so you did the only thing you could think to do. You summoned Asmo.

“I summon the Avatar of Lust, Asmodeus” you spoke, and there he was

“MC! Babes, what happened? Where are you hurt” he knelt in front of you and looked over your body

“Ribs...and my head...” you whined, leaning forward for him to take you in his arm

Asmodeus was stronger than you realized, and he picked you up easily and started walking you back to the HoL. “Let’s get you laying down and I’ll call a doctor” he said gently, “Then Satan and I will take care of the idiot who did this”

Until you were healed he was by your side, bringing you anything you even thought of wanting and getting the classwork you missed from your classes

Beelzebub

“Hey Beel, what’s up!” you walked into the kitchen and greeted your favorite demon cheerily

He grunted, usually a sign that he should be left alone, but you wanted some Beel time and figured you’d just be cautious and give him his space

“How was your day” you asked innocently

“Not now, MC. I’m not in the mood” his voice was firm, and you took the message

“Got it, I’ll leave” you said apologetically, and left the kitchen. You were a bit upset by him pushing you away, but knew he just needed space. You decided to walk to get takeout for dinner, and made your way to the restaurant on your own.

That was a mistake. You weren’t even halfway there when you figured later you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time

“Is that a human? Here?” you heard from across the road, and sighed, hoping to get off easy

“Hey, human!” the demons walked over to you and you stopped, deciding to at least acknowledge them so they’d think they could insult you and move along

“Wow, I’ve never met a human in real life before” one of them smirked, “I wonder just how weak they really are”

“I wouldn’t test it, just because I’m a human doesn’t mean I don’t know some demons who would make your lives miserable if you hurt me”

The other demon scoffed, “You’re lying. What demon would befriend a human”

You were getting irritated at the attitude being thrown at you, so you decided to fight back with a little sass of your own, “Lucifer, Satan, Beelzebub, and Lord Diavolo, to name a few” you smirked and crossed your arms

“Bullshit” one of the two demons got in your face, “there’s no way a demon like that would look twice at you”, and before you could begin to think of a comeback you felt a sharp pain in your side

You looked down to see a gash in your side, thankfully seeming to not have hit an organ, but it was still bleeding pretty badly. You didn’t know what to do, but didn’t really have the chance to do much because a few strong punches were delivered to your core immediately after

“Fuck” you mumbled as you crumpled to the ground, and heard the demons laughing as they walked away. You felt yourself bleeding pretty heavily, and knew you wouldn’t be able to make it back to the HoL

“I summon the Avatar of Gluttony. Beelzebub” you said, hoping you remembered how to use your pact correctly

He appeared before you and you let out a sigh of relief, then wincing in pain at your own action

“MC!” he instantly took off his grey hoodie and pressed it to your wound, “There’s an underground hospital close, is it safe for me to lift you or can you walk”

“I think I can walk, but can you keep an arm around me” you ask, and he obviously does

You get to the hospital and are instantly checked in and brought to a care room. Beel holds your hand and lets you squeeze it as tightly as you need as your wound is sewn up, and then the nurses give you pain medication for the next few weeks

You didn’t know the names of the demons who hurt you, but Lucifer found out easily with his many connections, and he and the rest of his siblings, along with Lord Diavolo, made sure that the two demons never so much as thought about you ever again

Belphegor

“Belphie, please let me in” you knocked on his door again, not knowing what had caused him to storm off in the first place

The door opened, but before you could say anything Belphie was talking

“MC, I’m fucking pissed right now, and the last person I want to be around is you” his voice was sharp, and you almost teared up at how genuine his words seemed

“Fine, okay, I’m sorry for trying to help” you responded before turning and running down the stairs from his room in the attic, wanting to give him space but also run away from him

You were going to try not to cry, but as soon as you stepped outside the HoL you couldn’t hold back anymore. Sniffling, you walked to the park nearby to sit at a bench and think. You pulled out your D.D.D. to text Beelzebub and ask him to check up on Belphie, but didn’t even unlock it before someone sat down next to you

You didn’t recognize who it was, and you wiped under your eyes as the demon began to speak

But they didn’t say anything near what you expected. Well, you didn’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t to be called a filthy human by a stranger

The demon proceeded to call you names, but you were too mentally exhausted to fight back, so you just sat and listened as they tried to get a reaction from you

“What, aren’t you listening to me? Stupid human” and the demon started punching you. Hard.

You tried to fight back at first, but compared to the strength of a demon you couldn’t really do much. Once you started losing consciousness the other demon left you to sit, laughing at your wounds

You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t want to bother Belphie if he was still in a bad mood, but you needed help. You pulled out your D.D.D. and saw a text from him, reading: ‘MC, I’m sorry. Please come back, give me a chance to explain’

As you couldn’t move, you realized your only option was to summon him, so that’s exactly what you did

“I summon the Avatar of Sloth, Belphegor” you suddenly got nervous, unsure why since you and Belphie were so close, but you knew he’d help you no matter what

“MC? MC holy shit” he sat next to you on the bench and you instantly leaned into him and started sobbing

“MC I’m so sorry, this never should have happen” he had an arm around you

You sniffled, “It isn’t your fault, I was just clearing my head” you reassured him, still hurt by his previous words but not at all blaming him for the other demon’s attack

He brought you back to the HoL and gave you ice packs for the bruises that were starting to surface, making sure you had everything you needed for the next many days until you were healed

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A/N: This took me longer than I thought it would to write but I also kept taking breaks and had three classes today lol. But here it is !!! I love writing angst hehe so this was really fun