#all the stuff with like religion and stuff? shes way more respectful of that than previous doctors

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

this might be the difference tbh

[llilyrose]

llilyrose spends her time analyzing aroace stuff. yay.

isat spoilers afoot

what i especially like about the way adrienne wrote mira's orientation is the lack of room for interpretation. yes they snuck aroace talk into fantasy france, but just stop and think for a minute. what would happen if mira just said "i'm aroace" or "i don't feel love the same way" instead of all the nuance we got to her character in the friend quest convo?

we know she's sex repulsed, we know she's romance repulsed. we know she loves fiction that has those things in it, loves interpreting fictional characters that way, but can't bare to see herself in that situation. it makes a lot of sense with regards to her location (vaugarde, a very sex-positive and romance-adamant country) and also with regards to herself (the way she feels about her environment). Of course she wouldn't blame other folk around her for engaging with their religion the "correct" way, of course she'd internalize all her feelings of being outcast and turn it back on herself.

The fandom respects this! Nobody ships her romantically, or sexually, because we know she's not into that. We know she would never and i know a bunch of people who would punch you for even thinking it!

Now what if Adrienne hadn't put this in the game? What if they had just said on their tumblr one day, "mira's aroace," or something. where would we be now? aspec shipping discourse would definitely take the reins. we'd have people shipping her in all kinds of different ways, bending the aroace character to the best of their ability because they could still be into sex, or romance, or whatever. this is TRUE, it's POSSIBLE, but there's no nuance. We wouldn't know the way Mira really feels about these things unless Adrienne told us, so a lot of people would either ignore/"work around" her identity or just wouldn't even know about it to begin with!

Introducing mira's orientation in the way adrienne did leaves no room for discourse. we know if she's sex-positive, sex-negative, how she reacted to finding out she was, etc. It provides so much more representation than a simple "I'm aroace" ever could. It's such a wide label, so finally having CONCRETE information about a canonical aroace's experiences with their orientation is so, so freeing and honestly quite refreshing. and it's worked into the story seamlessly!!!

She's not an emotionless carcass with no capacity for love, she's not outwardly detesting sex or romance at every possible moment, she's simply a well-rounded character who happens to be aroace. You have time to warm up to her before ever even finding out about her orientation! Or having any clue at all (barring maybe the suspicious sketches)!!!!! Aroace people are real!!! We're so real!!!!

Speaking of the suspicious sketches! We know siffrin's alloace (from, like, one line of dialogue), but we don't know if he's sex-repulsed. Adrienne's gone on record to say "aces can still have sex" in reference to siffrin, so I'm inclined to believe he has at least some sort of libido.

When looking at the sketches, both him and mira have a repulsed reaction. I think there are three possible reasons for Siffrin here!

Siffrin is sex-repulsed and has a visceral reaction to them because he thinks it's gross.

Siffrin has no libido because the stress overrides everything in his system. That combined with his ace identity would probably lead to a distaste for the papers.

Some people would NOT GET THE MEMO from the act 3 friendquest. Sometimes when you're writing you have to account for the gamers being really really dense. Some people didn't even understand the Isa friendquest was him coming out as trans basically. Since Ace characters are hard to "prove" unless they explicitly state they dislike sex, this line of dialogue might've just been there to drill it in that Siffrin is ace because the only other place we see that implication is one line in the friendquest. It could even have no tie to his relationship with sex, who knows?

one of these options is not like the others! /silly

I couldn't tell you which one of those it is, but i think at least one of them had to have hit the mark. It's a lot harder to decode siffrin's sexuality when we only get like 5 lines of dialogue total that vaguely even reference it

With this we come back to the issue from earlier: He could be demi, he could be ace, he could be sex-repulsed, he could not! Most people write them sex-repulsed and I'm personally on that bandwagon, but interpreting them a different way isn't any less correct unless you completely ignore the fact they're ace in the first place.

Even sex-positive aces have complicated relationships with sex. Some do it for the gratification, some simply have higher libido and can't think of a different way to get it out, and others only do it to please their partner.

I think writing an ace character as sex-positive should be seen as a character study instead of an excuse to ship two characters together. Is this character the type to even enjoy it in the first place? How often? How do they interact with it? Etc. Which I think is what Adrienne was talking about when she said "aces can still have sex." We don't know about siffrin's identity, we don't have a grasp on the nuance, but we do know he's ace and that he experiences love differently from the way mirabelle does, and the way isabeau does, and the way odile does, and what have you.

I love love love the representation we get in isat. An aroace, an alloace, and someone that a lot of fans headcanon as aroallo though it's unconfirmed. Even if Odile's not aro, we still get that line of dialogue about not finding romance suitable for her at the moment, which speaks true to a different experience altogether. No two characters experience love, experience life the same in isat. That's why i get to make a tumblr text post that's a bit too long exploring the different avenues adrienne took when writing the characters lol :')

[gffa]

I just need a hug. A YouTuber I respected, Jessie Gender, tweeted that the Jedi deserved to end (though at least she had the decency to say it shouldn't have been in genocide). Ugh, it's hard to exist in fandom when everyone seems ready to judge the Jedi as cops and not a culture that palpatine eradicated.

Virtual hugs, anon. It's really hard to lose respect for a creator you once admired--and going to check out their tweet, oh, I see we're calling the Buddhist Christians again--and I try to be understanding, not a lot of people really know enough about non-Western dominant religions to realize the often xenophobic/imperialistic undertones to describing Buddhism as such (or my other favorite, calling the Buddhist-inspired religion a "cult"), as if Christianity is the default. At least they acknowledged that what happened was a genocide and didn't say it was their own fault/something they did. But here's my real advice, the only way I've found to make myself feel better after something like this: Go on a Jedi-positive spree. Don't vagueblog, that won't make you feel better in the long run, but address some of the things that frustrate you. Like, I would tweet out a, "Hey, you wanna see a list of all the times the Jedi said really nice things about Anakin?" or "Hey you wanna see a list of all the times the Jedi died to protect someone?" or "Hey you wanna see all the times the Jedi express emotion and said feelings were normal?" or "Hey you remember that time TCW explicitly showed us how the Jedi actually had no real power within the framework of the government? And we can see that they were were only there to better facilitate saving lives, because that's how you effect change on a galactic level, instead of idk charging people money to fly around the galaxy in ships and eat food?" Tweet out a series of George Lucas quotes about how the Jedi were right about stuff or how they were limited in Shitty Choice A or Shitty Choice B. This builds something positive, it makes it more fun to be around you and draw more people to you, and you will feel better. It sucks to lose respect for someone you liked, but just remember. No amount of fan opinions can touch what the movies and TCW and George Lucas' interviews, and ultimately it's still just Star Wars. We cannot live and die by a made up fictional story, I've tried and it sucks so much more than just shrugging my shoulders, saying to myself that someone has Bad Star Wars Takes, and sailing on off. Lots of hugs, anon, and I hope you can find comfort that there are still lots of us having fun over here in our Actually The Jedi Were Pretty Right About Everything corner. ^_~

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

Do you have a molly redesign?

I do!

She isn’t a fullbody or finished at all but I love her dearly. Whenever I draw her face I like to make her look really sweet until she opens her eyes and its like ⚫️w⚫️ and its like “oh! um!” Cause I love doing stuff with eyes. I want hers to be kind of creepy looking cause I mean shes a spider! But also I want her to look a bit out of place in heaven, her halo is a little crooked, her eyes are really big and don’t have much shine to them, and her general appearance is just a little off putting the way she stares and her interests. Like she was in the mafia and witnessed her brother overdose and slowly die in a coma, shes going to be kind of fucked up. Plus she has a bit of a thousand yard stare in canon anyway

I think molly being in heaven is really interesting honestly and it’s a large part of her character, like she’s very important to plot once Sir Pentious gets into heaven and we actually see more of it. Shes still her own person of course but she also serves as a way to show that some people in heaven are almost as strange as people in hell. Molly loves spiders and has an intense interest in true crime and surgical procedures, also again, she’s something that people are usually afraid of, like when you die and go to heaven most people usually aren’t like “OH MY GOD I HOPE IM A SPIDER…” but she totally was cause shes just like that.

Unlike Angel (hence why he isn’t up here) Molly was very religious and still holds a large chunk of religious trauma, however she remains faithful and is using her faith as a way to cope with her grief and stress. A large majority of her family were homophobic and transphobic so having two twins that were respectively gay and trans they didn’t take very kindly to that. Molly was just much much more closeted than Angel/Anthony. She still tried to help him with his problems but found it hard to when he was so engaged in the family business and turned to drugs instead of talking to her and we know how that ended up turning out already.

Molly never really got to transition while alive and spent the remainder of her life after Anthony died more closed off and a bit more sad than she already was. She didn’t entirely shut down but for a few years she absolutely did and eventually separated from her family and tried to pursue herself and her religion further (ie. getting a boyfriend and going to church) While Angel broke many of the 10 commandments, Molly made sure to do her best to respect them and would always pray afterwards. She did end up dying of old age and ended up in heaven, though upon arrival realising her brother was in fact not here was a detrimental blow to her mindset and sets up a bit of the point with how religion can be used both to help grief but also can be used to completely ignore grief as well as coming to terms with the fact those you care for might not always be the best people and sometimes you’re forced to leave them behind because of that.

I have not reached this point in the rewrite yet to figure out how or if Angel gets redeemed at all but I really like imagining them hugging and being shocked at how much the other has changed

[bihanspookies]

Which tekken ex!boyfriends would fuck you better than your new bf ever could?

I’m not sure if this is what you had in mind anon but!

Mentions of religious stuff in Claudio’s lmao

Anyway

HWOARANG HWOARANG HWOARANG

HWOARANG‼️‼️‼️

That man is cocky, arrogant, hot headed and it’s mainly one of the reasons you break up

But googly moogly it works so well in the bedroom bc he knows what he’s doing!!!

Sex with him was always an adventure bc no matter where you were, how short the session was, or how much pent up frustration he had he would ALWAYS make sure you came first. Your pleasure is his pleasure and seeing you cum would always more than likely careen him into his own orgasm.

Your new bf doesn’t give you the same thrill and you unfortunately find yourself comparing the way he fucks you to how Hwoarang would. He doesn’t tease you like Hwoarang would, doesn’t have that air of arrogance in his voice that you found yourself missing whenever you were having sex with your boyfriend and he certainly doesn’t have a motorcycle that he could fuck you on.

Victor Chevalier:

I SAID WHAT I SAID AND YOU WILL HEAR ME OUT.

First of all this hc post I did says enough

Second of all!!

Honestly why would you break up with him but you did in this scenario so.

Victor is an older man, like at least somewhere in his late 50’s early 60’s. Combine that with his looks, charm, wealth, and overall lifestyle it basically a recipe for the perfect man who fucks just right.

Older man are more experienced blah blah blah BUT VICTOR? It is very much true for him. He treated you with the upmost respect in and out of the bedroom!!!

Sure your new younger bf is nice and sweet but he doesn’t have the same charm as Victor! Doesn’t fuck the same way! There was something about fucking in the most expensive places ever while wearing the most fabulous silky robes that truly changed the way you viewed sex. Of course none of that is important but bc it was such an integrated part of Victor you grew used to it, used the fancy and lavish type of sex.

Claudio Serafino:

HOT TAKE

But I think he would be on this list.

You break up bc he’d be too dedicated in trying to eradicate all the evil in the world BUT! The moments he does spend fucking you?? God sent.

I think he’d be like Hwoarang in the teasing sense but not as cocky or arrogant about it. He’s so smooth and subtle about it that you don’t even realize he’s teasing, it’s sort of like a game of anticipation.

He can be very cocky and sarcastic when he wants to be though! The times he’s like that you better hold on tight because his teasing can be borderline a bit mean but you like it.

Also I’m not saying he would bring religion into the bedroom but he just might!

That sort of thrill of doing something taboo with someone who is actually an Exorcist?? Your new bf COULD NEV-ER👏.

He helps you discover kinks about yourself and is more than happy to dive further into them.

NEW BF COULD NEVERRRRRRRR!!

BONUS

Anna Williams:

Dommy mommy

That’s it that’s the tweet.

You think anybody after Anna would compare to her?? Hell no!!!! This woman FUCKS!!!! Toys, kinks, pushing limits, etc etc etc. She took you to new heights that you’ve never experienced and presented so many new things into sex for you that truly no one else is going ever top that.

[homunculus-argument]

One of my story ideas that'll get around to working on One Day is a western that is not a western - a historical adventure that's set in the time and location of the "wild west", but instead of western tropes, it's chock full of historical stuff that was actually very much a thing back then, but is generally left out of the generic classic spaghetti westerns. All sorts of odd random things that make history nerds poke their friends like "that's actually real btw. That was a real thing back then." Naturally this would take a shit ton of research and that's one of the reasons why this is on the backburner.

One of the characters is Annikki Härmänranta, the protagonists' finnish laundress and housekeeper, who is altogether pretty much only respectfully addressed as "ma'am". Her name is unpronounceable to practically everyone and she adamantly refuses to tolerate any kind of nicknames because they are against her religion. As a devout protestant, she was given her first name when she was christened and got her last name when she married, and as far as she is concerned, christian people don't change names or aquire new ones unless a priest is involved.

The other characters receive this explanation through an equally confused translator, as Annikki herself mainly communicates her disapproval of things by either a whack of her broom, or threatening to whack people with it. She speaks fluent german and while she understands english perfectly fine, she refuses to speak it.

She came to the US along with her husband, who came there to work and died in a mining accident. Though she has no family or other ties to keep her from it, Annikki refuses to return to Europe, having concluded that living in this land is her personal punishment from God. As she is in no way a person who would meekly submit to tolerateing anything that she does not want, the other characters do pierce together that she does genuinely prefer her life here. She is nowhere near as bitter or genuinely resentful as she lets out, but by some finnish logic that makes sense to no-one else, she would find it embarrassing to admit that she is actually genuinely happy, or God forbit admit that she'd do anything purely because she likes it.

The rest of the gang, being a motley crew, are no strangers to otherwise sensible people living by strange codes of honour, so they accept her strange convictions with a shrug. She is loyal to a fault, has no respect whatsoever to the local law and government, and genuinely loves and cares for the gang of outlaws she cooks and cleans for - even if she exclusively expresses her love by aggressively making sure that they are as clean and healthy as she can keep them.

While she mainly communicates with tapping, pointing and occasionally whacking with a broom, ladle or whatever is at hand, she's not exactly silent, and can and will burst into finnish. She talks to herself mainly by talking to the animals - the gang jokes that their goat probably understands finnish by now - and can and will curse out people when they frustrate her. When someone's brought in limping and wounded, the others don't need to understand a word to pierce together that she's scolding them for getting hurt in some stupid-ass way when she just got done nursing the last patient back to passable health.

When a character who's unfamiliar with her tries to meekly explain her that he doesn't understand her, she answers - in finnish - that she knows and doesn't care. It's not like any of them would listen to her any more than the goat does. While none of her rants are translated into english, the readers who do understand finnish get to enjoy the bonus comedy of her laments, which are peppered with remarkably creative cursing and all delivered in a strong and very distinct ostrobothnian dialect.

At the end side of the story she ends up marrying another side character - a chinese man. This comes as a surprise to most of the crew and those of the readers who didn't pick up on the background foreshadowing, and everyone considers them somewhat of an odd couple. He is a more reserved, poetic soul and a sensitive man, and though the other men are baffled as to why he would choose her out of all the women in the world, he's more amused than insulted by their confusion. Things like having rather little in the means of a mutual language, or the fact that she's almost 15 years older than him, are irrelevant to him - a woman who can keep her household in check without needing to say a word is worth far more than one who can't do it with all the talking in the world.

She might look like a mule, but she's as strong as one, too, and a woman who can face down a bear, wrangle drunk men to behave, suture a wound or butcher a chicken without flinching, and somehow out-stubborn a goat, and still be gentle to newborn kittens is exactly the kind of a woman his father told him to marry.

They find a priest who speaks german to marry them, and the priest asks her whether she's not bothered or concerned by the fact that he is not a christian. He did, in fact, offer to convert to christianity, but she tells him that if he would only be doing it for her sake, and not because he genuinely believed in the same God in the same way she does, he should not, because she would rather marry a man who is not christian at all than a false christian. He respected this, and decided not to convert.

Irate at the question, she replies to the priest that there are plenty of perfectly good reasons why she's probably going to Hell, and if the one damn thing would bar her from there is this man, then she's not fucking going. Her first husband was a good man, but not a godly one, and a man not worth going to Hell for is not a man worth marrying. Besides, he is the only one in this cursed land (the german conversations do get translated to english, and while she does not curse as fluently in german, she refers to the US as "this cursed land" in both languages she speaks) who ever made the effort to learn how to pronounce her name.

While the officiating of their relationship is very close to the end of the story, and most of their happily ever after is left to carry on after the story itself has ended, it's still shown that she takes up the task of learning chinese - and despite of her atrociously bad grammar and pronunciation, is willing to actually also speak it. It's also shown that besides her name, he has learned two words in finnish: "Vaimo. Rauhoitu." While this, too, is never translated, the words seem to have the almost supernatural power to stop Annikki from needlessly tearing into whoever she was ripping into, and getting her to calm down - something that no force on earth could do otherwise.

Though he's willing to explain that those are words that she taught her, and something her first husband also used to say to, he refuses to tell anyone what they mean, and not only because knowing secrets amuses him - something that everyone knows about him. She does not wish to be known or understood, and he respects her privacy.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for sleeping with my friend’s crush?

a couple days ago my friends and i had a sleepover at my friend’s (we’ll call her A, 18F) aunt’s house. A invited us (me (18F), L (18M), R (19M), and B (18M)) as well as her other friend, H (18F), and H’s brother D (19M). L has had a crush on H for a while now, but he’s only ever referred to her as “record store girl”, so we didn’t know it was her until we all arrived and he started acting weird.

in the middle of the night (probably like 2am or so, idk), H woke me up and asked if she could sleep next to me since she felt nervous. i was half asleep, didnt think about it too hard, and said yes. the next morning, when we all woke up, L was gone from the room we were sleeping in.

we spent a couple minutes looking for L, then he came barging out of some room down the hall with all of his stuff packed. i asked him what he was doing and he said he was leaving because he saw me with H. i told him nothing happened and he said it wasn’t about that, he knew nothing happened, it was that i knew he had feelings for her and still got close with her. at this point H apologized, saying she didn’t know he felt that way, but i told L that H was just another girl in the long list of girls he’s crushed on but never did anything about anyways.

at this point L got really upset. for context, the previous night, we had gotten into an argument because i said god didn’t exist or care about humanity at all given the horrors of the world rn and then L told me he was a christian. i had gotten upset bc i couldn’t believe he could uphold something as harmful as religion, but then after we cooled down a bit we talked it out and he told me he liked the feeling of not being alone that religion brings for him. i had apologized and told him that he’s not alone regardless, because he has me and our other friends, we hugged it out, and i thought that would be the end of it.

well, L brought that back up, saying that i didn’t respect his feelings or his religion, and i clearly don’t want him there. i tried telling him that he couldn’t just leave and he should stop being so immature, but he was insistent, so i got out of his way and unlocked the front door for him.

it’s been a couple days and we haven’t really talked. R says i should just apologize to him again so we can all be friends but i think L needs to grow up and realize that he can’t just sit around pining and praying and expecting it to get him anywhere.

also, if this is relevant at all, i am a girl who likes girls. i’m not going to go into the details of my relationship with christianity, but for me, believing in god has done more harm than good. i do respect L’s life choices and i can see where he’s coming from but i’m never going to be involved with religion again.

What are these acronyms?

[firefeelsfine]

HELLO pretty people!!!🌸 <3

The intro post is finally here...🫴🏻✨

ABOUT ME :- she/her | 8teen | Pisces | ENFJ -A | Girl's girl | certified panick mechine | super random | desi | hopeless romantic.🌼

Wanna know more about me, here you go:-

🌸 yepp, so my name is KEHKESHA which means Galaxy & The name originates from Persian language.

( I am truly in love with my name, so please try not to mess it up while interacting. )

🌸I am a die heart fan of SRK and RK.

( it's okay if you don't like them or the way they act...I respect your views nevertheless.)

🌸what do I mostly post?

Random shit, that's right. Relatable kinda shit , random funny looking pictures , memes and rants. In short everything that would show a sense of carelessness towards life and people. Because let's be honest , we all are struggling with stuff one way or another. So ig it's better to deal with that shit by making it somewhat random.

But but but, at times I may tap into my devdas zone, and post or reblog something kinda sad. ( Not negative or something devestating, just simply sad) Something that may or may not touch that hidden empty void in your heart.

🌸 there is nothing in this world that will ever come close to how much i love tulips 🌷🌷🌷

🌸I am not religious but very spritual.

🌸I respect every religion with all my heart. I am obsessed with Indian myths and history. I would really appreciate hearing anyone speaking of there culture, the traditions they follow, the facts and the myths, all of it together and everything in between as well. Feel free to reach out to me for the same.

🌸my favourite colour changes with my mood, today it's rose gold.

🌸I am seriously very chaotic. If my chaos makes sense to you, we're meant to vibe together.

🌸my favourite vibe:- midnight thoughts with Lo-fi Beats.

🌸 I have bunch of interest, here goes the list:-

• imtiyaz ali movies ( my go to )

• F.R.I.E.N.D.S ( nothing compares to that common! )

• music:- jagjit singh, Mukesh, kishore kumar songs are a bliss to me. Shreya Ghoshal, Mohit Chauhan, Arjit Singh top my playlist every now and then. The weekend, JVKE , arctic monkeys, Chris brown make my playlist near to perfect.

But but but...LANA DEL RAY & ISABEL LAROSA make me tap into my siren self way too quick.

• I am diagnosed with moderate anxiety and an undiagnosed mild ADHD awaits me.

•THE SCARLET WITCH from the MCU is my comfort character. ( It's weird ik)

• I like every existing shade of maroon.

🌸 relationship status :- in love- hate relationship with my life.

🌸I am in love with the idea of being in love.💌

🌸I get lost in my books every now & then ( I won't be posting anything about what I read , in this blog, because I cannot tolerate listening to anyone having an opinion on why they don't like a character that I may be obsessed with at that very point of time. I will get defensive and that won't end good . I know me)

🌸 recommendation for kdramas, songs , movies and tv shows of any kind are appreciated.

( need an recommendation from my end ? Do try watching • It's Okay to Not Be Okay • 2020 ‧• Romance • kdrama )

• I really cherish this drama because I feel it is very me coded. Don't forget to tell me your views on it if you do watch it.

🌷🌷🌷 I am obsessed with my govind, my protector, my bestie and my supreme support 🌷🌷🌷

NAGAR NANDJI NA LAAL...💌💌💌

Also, my two alltime favourite songs ( hindi)

My alltime favourites ( english)

If you're a creep who just wants to disturb people's mental peace first of all get a life, And second of all try not to try your dirty tricks on me. I am not a girl who will ignore or block you. I very well know some people , who would not only trace you but will make sure to get your life as miserable as possible. MARK MY WORDS !!!

PS :- My brother's bachelor's degree in criminal justice works like magic at times.

🌸 other than this , I am a really friendly person, so feel free to reach out to me.

Tons of love to my stunning mutuals <3 🫴🏻✨I adore you guys so damn muchhhhhh 💌

[xjulixred45x]

If it's okay can I please ask for a romantic yandere choso

With sister Rosa

And the rest is up to you

Also you can find more information about her on my page here on Tumblr

Okay, thanks for the Request

Yandere Choso x Rosa! Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: female

Warnings: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, OVERPROTECTION UNHEALTY MINDSET, STALKING, SPOILERS FROM THE MANGA, Reader has the past and caracteristics of Sister Rosa of @nunezs-stuff .

Let's say that Choso and reader know each other (and he becomes obsessed) when reader is with Demaryius.

The reader has a great loyalty towards Demarius that many cannot understand, even Choso himself at the beginning when they had to work together for the common good of defeating Sukuna.

Why would I have respect for someone so SOFT?

What they don't know is how Demaryius practically saved the reader's life, literally and figuratively.

Choso and reader interact relatively often because they are 1- the most responsible for their groups and 2- they are the only ones who can handle Demarius' young children/apprentices, which makes Choso interact more with her.

At first, Choso had only seen a very standard side of the reader, the way she treated everyone (the overcoat) with harshness and rigidity and even became strict and disciplined.

It reminded him a little of not very pleasant aspects of someone (Kenjaku).

However, when they had to take care of the youngest children (especially children with trauma), something changed in the reader.

All her intimidating aura disappeared and she became someone much more maternal, calm and friendly.

It was almost like seeing another person.

and in a way Choso rejected that type of treatment.

Not only because of his own lack of a mother figure, but because he genuinely wanted to get closer to the reader, but had no idea how.

(I may have even asked Yuki, Yuji and company about what to do, but they all give him answers that contradict each other and he is even more confused).

Even so, Choso begins to make a strategy (not at all creepy or worrying) on how to approach the reader.

First, know what things you both like or have in common, how? easy, FOLLOWING HER everywhere so I could make sure she was okay:D

He can't help it! Reader is not even a user of cursed energy, how are you supposed to defend yourself from the horrible beings that plague this world if you can't even see them?

Add to that that by now most of Choso's brothers are dead. Therefore, he clings very closely to the relationship with the reader and wants to have her approval.

Second step, have a better relationship with her, this one is not as worrying as the previous one, but it is definitely still a bit creepy because of the previous one.

Choso tries to talk as best he can with the reader and thus be closer, which works half-heartedly, since the reader does not enjoy when Choso is not clear with what he says (he stutters) or, in his words, says nonsense.

but at least he and the reader manage to understand each other better, since Choso manages to resolve one of his doubts, his relationship with Demaryius.

reader, seeing that Choso seems(heh) to be harmless, decides to tell him how she met Father Demaryius.

It turns out that reader (like Choso) was let down by humanity on many occasions, whether with her parents, the people of her town or "religion"... her fiancé.

Everything came to a point where the reader decided to flee without thinking about whether she would live or not, she simply wanted to escape from that nightmare.

and that was when he met Father Demaryius.

He was the one who saved her, who gave her a name, a purpose, a home...

and I would always be grateful for that.

but he wouldn't tolerate any nonsense when it came to him.

Choso opens up to the reader and realizes that they both really have a lot in common, more than he thought...perfect.

Thanks to this, the reader trusts Choso more and ends up unaware of several of his worst yandere tendencies.

precisely because after knowing everything the reader went through, Choso doesn't want to end up being like the people who hurt her before.

so there is no kidnapping, but there is a lot of manipulation.

what type? the kind that makes you feel guilty for not giving him attention, for leaving him alone.

Choso is also not above using the reader's trauma to keep her close, whether by mentioning her own trauma with an abusive father or after Yuki's death.

Possessive as shit, when they are already in a relationship, rest assured that he becomes a shadow reader. He even continues to stalk her! He just feels less guilty about it now that they're official.

I think the only person he wouldn't be jealous of is Yuji for OBVIOUS reasons, and maybe Father Demaryius, but even so he is "cautious" with him (mostly because of the level of power between the two).

He still respects and even loves Demaryius, but Choso will not let him take something so precious from him.

VERY LOVING, whether physical contact, words of affirmation, gifts, etc. Choso loves to pamper the reader and have her around in general, which is sometimes a disadvantage for the reader 😅 but don't worry, eventually you get used to it.

definitely overprotective to unimaginable levels. I already said it with his stalker tendencies, but he believes that if he takes his eyes off the reader for ONE SECOND something horrible could happen to him, and it terrifies him.

A large part of their yandere tendencies are related to fear, fear of being alone, fear of the reader dying, fear of abandonment, disappointment, etc.

so the reader can also easily manipulate it if she wants, so she can make it improve or FLEE.

because he's still a yandere.

He has killed, will kill and will continue to kill as a reader.

It doesn't matter who, if they get in the way of THEIR happiness, they will encounter death.

He deserves to be happy. No matter what.

He will be selfish. For ONCE

just...leave him and Reader ALONE....

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

This is a little shorter than usual bc im not quite used to Sister Rosa😅 and honestly am not in the mood for JJK stuff but i wanted to make this for You! Hope this is of your liking and i didn't mischaracter Your oc😭

[insufferableprotagonistpoll]

Round 2

Propaganda why Dr. Gregory House is insufferable:

"Choses to make the people around him and himself miserable.

Makes patients take treatments or tests without their knowledge, and does the same to his employees

Doesn't believe in asexuality

Gave a deaf patient a hearing implant without their consent

Started to call a woman a "he" once he realized she was intersexual

Always makes sexual remarks to his female boss

Lowkey racist

Didn't want to give his condolences to his best friend after his girlfriend died accompanying a drunk House to his... house

More stuff I can't remember right now but I hate hate hate hate him"

"The whole point of the show is that this guy sucks as a person, knows it, is proud of it, and works to keep it that way. But he’s extremely competent. There is a reason fans call this show “Malpractice Hospital” and it’s this guy. Literally."

"Transphobic, intersexist, aphobic, etc. And I'm not entirely sure how to explain this but, while he is racist/homophobic/sexist, it's in a Liberal kind of way? Like I have a feeling the writers dont want you to think he's actually racist or homophobic because That's Bad, "he just makes those kinds of comments because he's edgy!!!" or whatever excuse people come up with. For a show that hates religion, they show more respect towards christianity than they do the "Trannies" or Asexuals they make fun of. Don't even get me started on his interpersonal skills."

"Self-centered, sometimes misogynistic, low-key racist sometimes, gives his patience treatment without their concent or knowledge, started to called a woman "he" after realizing she was intersex, doesn't believe in asexuality, crashed a car into his ex's house."

"the "he needs mouse bites to live" gif kinda sums it up. He's like Sherlock Holmes if he worked as doctor and prescribed nonsensical solutions to illnesses that always work. He also doesn't explain himself and bitches to his coworkers instead. Also an asshole in general."

Propaganda why Rachel Berry is insufferable:

"Literally the annoying theatre girl stereotype cranked up to the MAX. She's got that "takes everything too seriously, stick up her ass" thing that soooo many theatre kids have bit she's not just annoying she's a terrible person. She felt so threatened by a girl who wanted to join Glee being better than her that she sent her to a CRACK HOUSE for "auditions." She's like lowkey homophonic, transphobic, and racist too. "

"omg she acts so entitled and always gets what she wants even if others get put down and she NEVER PAYS FOR IT"

"Watched two episodes of glee. Two were enough. Everyone else was a bastard in at least a somewhat entertaining way but she singlehandedly ruined everything. If she went to my high school I'd probably bully her too and then she'd whine and throw a karen fit about how I'm literally just better than her. At least I don't need autotune lol."

"She constantly does weird and villainous stuff such as; sent someone to a crackhouse, accused a teacher of molestation coz she didn’t get a part in a musical, dropped out of glee club when she didn’t get a part, a black character (mercedes) asked if glee club could sing more songs by black artists and rachel said « it’s glee club, not krunk club », tried to hook up with a gay man who she also knew her best friend liked, cheated on finn with his best friend, also her bangs post s3 are a crime.

Despite all this she always acts like she’s hard done by and the victim, barely ever apologises or takes accountability for hurting people, and is treated like a sympathetic main character by the show. Not only is she insufferable, she’s a malicious manipulator glorified by the narrative"

[bedofthistles]

For @incorrect-quotes-of-moonacre with Deep love and appreciation for all you've done and continue to do for the fandom

Fairytales are some of the most important works of fiction known to man. While commonly disregarded, overly saturated, and disney-fied, Fairy tales provide the basis for understanding human history. The examination of politics, religions, culture, and a singular thread that pulls nations together. For if one fairy tale was told in Europe, rest assured that many other cultures would have shared similar fables, even if they had never told their stories to the other. Warnings for children, for emperors and kings, the very basis for literature itself, the fairy tale is not something easily overlooked, but is the base of modern community. After all, what brings humanity closer together than rooting for the common goal? Of good rising above evil, true love, and a bit of magic to pull it all together. 

*

Maria wove between the rows, holding a red apple in her hand. Perhaps a bit over dramatic, but she wanted it to serve her point. “We have many reasons to thank fairytales, for the symbolism they offer, the lessons. For this reason-” Maria paused before her desk, tossing the apple into the air before catching it. “I would like you to write your own fairy tale.” Que groans. Maria smiled. “I want this to include several things, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves and write everything. Some stories offer political critique, others warnings; I want something unique. You may borrow ideas, such as sleep curses, but please do your absolute best to be original. Grades will be based on creativity, the substances of the story itself, hidden themes, and of course grammar and other such English nonsense.” 

There was a spatter of laughter from some of her favourite students. 

“The assignment is due Friday and your time starts-” Maria shook her wrist until her watch faced up. “Now.” 

There was the flutter of paper and hushed voices as ideas were spread around, or quiet worry at the idea of having to write something for English. The horror. 

Maria tossed the apple one last time before rounding her desk and taking a seat. 

*

At three on the dot, Maria opened the door to her class, unleashing her students upon the world, watching them run free as the school day came to an end. At the same time, across the hall, Mr. De Noir’s classroom door flung open, and his students made hers appear as well mannered and polite little angels.

Mr. De Noir leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed as he sent a smirk her way. “Miss Merryweather.” 

Maria lifted a brow. Why her uncle had even hired him on the staff she would never understand. He was hardly a respectable teacher, half the time she had to send a student across the hall to tell his to settle down, and he was never dressed up to code. 

Kitten heels, a pencil skirt that hit right above her knees, and a blouse, Maria at least appeared professional. She couldn’t remember the last time she had thought ‘oh yes, let me don jeans to go to work, that’s appropriate,’ and yet there he was. Rumpled denims, a wrinkled button up that wasn’t tucked in, even his sleeves were pushed up to his elbows. 

The students adored him, and yes he had amazing recommendations, and credentials, but that did not mean he was Moonacre material. She just knew the old headmistress, Jane Heliotrope, would never have put up with his misconduct. 

“Did you start them on their assignment today?” Maria asked cordially, because someone had to be looking out for the students. 

“What? The fairy tale stuff?” He nearly scoffed. “Yeah, we’re saving that as a free write on Friday.”

Maria’s jaw dropped, “Wha- what do you mean by that? You’re completely disregarding the curriculum?” 

He gave her a laugh, “Oh, c’mon, you know that’s a guide more than anything.”

“Right.” Maria crossed her arms, “And I bet you aren’t having any kind of lesson gearing up to Friday? About the cultural and historic importance fairytales have on society and literature?” 

His smirk deepened, “Nope.”

“So what on earth did you teach them on? If you were able to teach them anything?” Maria asked. 

“The importance of communal and oral traditions. Then we discussed.”

Maria rolled her eyes, because ‘discuss’ was just his excuse to let the class go wild. “That sounds more like a history lesson.”

He shrugged, “History and literature, unfortunately, overlap.” 

Maria bit her tongue and glared, “Right. And you refused to teach on fairy tales because…?”

“Because, Princess, fairy tales have a different kind of connotation nowadays.”

Maria bristled at the nickname. It had started when he had learned the headmaster was her Uncle…

Well, it wasn’t particularly hard to guess that they were related, due to their last names being the same, but he assumed that she had been a legacy hire when that couldn’t be farther from the truth! In fact, she had been hired by Ms. Heliotrope a year before her retirement and Benjamin’s promotion. 

“But that is the exact reason we're supposed to be teaching on them! To disrupt their previous notions!” Maria flung her arms out to further make her point, but she knew she was just getting more and more frustrated, while he kept smirking at her. 

“And that’s why we slowly work up to calling them fairy tales, so by the end of the week, they have a full grasp and understanding of what a fairytale is beyond the Disneyfication.” He clapped his hands together, “Right, I have a long week ahead, and you, I’m guessing have some studying to do? Since you’re not doing any work to mould the curriculum to your class so they can reap the most of it.” 

He turned, the door to his class shut before she could get another jab in. But she stood in the hall, slightly impressed, but mostly irritated. Her thoughts wandered to her Uncle, but telling on a fellow teacher was childish, and she could handle him herself. 

*

“But I knew it was him! His thoughts and ideas getting into their heads.” Maria complained, her eyes narrowed and arms crossed, she hunched over herself on the garden bench sitting outside her Uncle’s home. 

Benjamin had never bothered with the upkeep of his garden, he had simply just let it grow wild over the years, but that summer, he had taken an odd interest in it. Removing all the weeds and ploughing the dirt, he replanted the areas that had once been overgrown grass with growing thyme, and the garden beds with geraniums, of all colours, but primarily salmon pink. 

It was better than his other hobbies: sulking or drinking. 

“That’s not appropriate,” Benjamin said, removing a dirtied glove from his hand. 

“No, it’s annoying.” Maria rolled her eyes. “And I have no idea when he did it! I mean, we were barely speaking yesterday about the curriculum, and today I hear my students talking about how the ideas of fairy tales have been corrupted by modern understanding and Disneyfied! Those are the exact words he used! Can you believe it? I mean, opening his office hours to my students in some lame attempt to contradict what I’ve already taught them.” 

“Well, I can’t let him scalp your students.” 

Maria rolled her eyes, “It doesn’t matter, I’ll tell him off tomorrow morning and we’ll just have to go from there.” Maria reached over and picked a globe of geraniums before tucking it behind her Uncle’s ear. “So pretty.”

He gave her a glare, but over the years it had lost any ferocity it once held. 

*

Maria stood in front of the kettle, waiting for it to go off, her cup all but ready with her tea bag, when a dark presence slid next to her. 

“I knew you just couldn’t resist.” 

Maria breathed out deeply, calmly, as in the corner of her eye Mr. De Noir leaned against the counter next to her. “Resist what?”

“Using your nepo baby powers to get me in trouble, are you disappointed I didn’t get sacked?”

Maria sighed, lifting the kettle as the light went from green to red, and poured her steaming water into her cup. “Mr. De Noir, I have no idea-”

“My office hours got taken from me.” 

Maria paused, but finished pouring and refilled the kettle. She stuck a fist on her hip and turned to look at him. “What? But I didn’t-”

“And I’ve been placed over the after school detention for the next two weeks-”

“But I didn’t-!”

“And Saturday!” He didn’t glare at her, no he would never, but where he was usually teasing and lighthearted, he seemed genuinely upset with her. 

And then it hit her. 

It was her fault. 

She placed a hand over her mouth. 

Benjamin. 

“Oh, now she remembers.” He looked away from her, discontentedly, into the empty teacher’s lounge. “Y’know, my students make good use of those hours, and unlike you, I have plans on the weekends.” 

“You don’t know what I do after school.” She muttered, her first reaction to defend herself. “Mr. De Noir, I- I didn’t- I’ll fix this, I promise, and until then, tell your students they may come to me during my office hours.”

Mr. De Noir gave her an odd look as he examined her face. 

“What?”

“I- you seem genuinely concerned.” He said. 

Maria rolled her eyes, “Yes, well when I was complaining to my Uncle I thought I was complaining to my Uncle, not Headmaster Merryweather.” She glared, crossing her arms. Goodness, how would she even broach this? She supposed she’d have to schedule a meeting, and go from there-

“Merryweather? Don’t go catatonic on me.” 

Maria broke out of her thoughts and gazed up at Mr. De Noir, she reached out to touch his shoulder, and in all sincerity said, “I will fix this.” 

He cracked a grin, “Don’t need to get all noble on me, Merryweather, it’s just two weeks. And technically I deserve it.”

“It isn’t bad for students to get multiple perspectives… sometimes.” 

He shrugged, and Maria realised she still had her hand on her arm. She snatched it away, her cheeks suddenly feeling warm, before Mr. De Noir reached out and handed her cup to her. 

“From my understanding, Merryweather’s are pretty stubborn, so good luck getting him to change his mind.” Then, he turned and left her alone in the teacher’s lounge, with a swiftly cooling cup of tea. 

She added some sugar cubes, and sped walked her way to her Uncle’s secretary, demanding to speak with him during her open hour. 

*

After an hour, Maria closed her office. 

A few of her students, and a few of Mr. De Noir’s students, had come to speak briefly with her, but beyond a few simple questions about tropes and symbolism, there were no deep inquiries. She had on her coat, and her briefcase in her hand, but when she looked across the way into Mr. De Noir’s dark classroom, a twinge of remorse pinged in her heart. 

With a singular and sudden determination, Maria made her way to the detention hall, which was actually just the meal hall, but was used for detention at set times. 

When she walked in the hall, a bit too proudly, the door swung out and banged against the wall, the sound of it echoing across the empty room and eight heads turned her way. Even Mr. De Noir, who had been sitting on top of one of the tables, slouching as much as he could while not lying on it, popped up at her entrance. 

Maria did her best not to let embarrassment wash over and kept her confidence as she came in, set her bag down on the floor, removed her coat, and joined Mr. De Noir on the table. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked, looking up at her with a strange mix of reverence and bafflement. 

Maria shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I couldn’t convince my Uncle to let you go.” 

He huffed a laugh. “Told you.” 

Maria nudged his knee with hers. 

“Okay, so message received?” 

“It’s a bit boring, isn’t it?” 

Robin scoffed, finally pulling himself up off the table and leaning onto his knees. “Yes, for me, who's trapped here, but not for you.”

Maria checked her watch, “Only forty-five minutes left?” 

He grabbed her elbow and pulled her arm towards his face. “Just about.” 

“Well, I’d like to discuss our- differing takes on the curriculum with you.” She cleared her throat. “To give our students the best chance they have with their learning opportunities.” 

He quirked a brow. 

“Well, for example, you say Disneyfied like it's a bad thing.”

“Because it is.” 

Maria shook her head, “But would you not agree that all fairytales and myths evolved with the times, the elements changing with what was needed?”

A slow smile breached his features. “One could say that.”

“And, well, perhaps what the children of our time need is something a bit more hopeful than what original fairy tales tend to offer?”

“Or, we need to stop babying children, and let them watch things that will actually be beneficial to their mental development.” 

They continued on that way for a time, the argument never actually turning to be about their lesson plans, and even after Mr. De Noir dismissed the students, they continued on until they reached the parking lot. 

“I’m sorry again,” Maria said, knowing it was time to part but not really wanting to. “About the whole detention business, I never intended that.”

Mr. De Noir shrugged nonchalance, “It’s alright, I’ll just get you back.”

Maria twisted her lips to avoid smiling. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll be the one across the hall.”

*

There was very little one could do about rumours, and once they did get started, there was not much one could do beyond fan the flames. 

It was rather unfortunate for both Miss Merryweather and Mr. De Noir that one of the students in detention was a girl who had a friend in Ms. Merryweather’s class, who had often made the very keen observation that there was a certain chemistry underlying their quips and hallway fights. 

So of course, as soon as Ms. Merryweather stormed detention, and stayed by Mr. De Noir’s side for the duration, it was only her right to text her friend the developing story. 

The next morning, before class had even begun, all of Ms. Merryweather’s waiting class knew about the circumstances, and even without speaking a word, seemed to be in unilateral agreement. 

*

“Mr. De Noir!”

Robin paused his instruction at the whiteboard, turning back to see one of Ms. Merryweather’s students hanging in the door. 

“Yeah, do you need something?”

“Um-” The girl squeaked, “Ms. Merryweather needed your help in the supplies room. She said something about heavy boxes?”

Robin played with the marker in his hand. That wasn’t the Merryweather he knew. That woman would break her back before asking for his, or anyone’s, help. He put the cap on. “Lex, you’re in charge.” 

There was some grumbling about that decision, but he ignored it as he came to the door, holding it open for the student before shutting it behind him. He watched, rather suspiciously, as she stood by Merryweather’s class but didn’t go inside. When she looked back over her shoulder, he lifted his brows, and she squeaked before ducking into class. Then, when he peered into the windows, each and every head, which had been turned to watch him, snapped back to the front. 

Robin smirked, he could smell a plot a mile away, but who was he to foil their brilliant schemes? 

He wasn’t too surprised to hear the door opening again once he reached the end of the hall, and he was careful not to look back at the sound. It almost made him giddy, and he wondered if this was just the distraction, to get him out of class so something could be done in the ten minutes he’d be gone? Or, if he was walking into the trap.

Ms. Merryweather, he had no doubt, hadn’t played any part of it, as she would never encourage this kind of behaviour. 

As Robin walked into the supply room, he saw no sign of Merryweather, but then there was a sound of surprise, a fluttering sound like a flock of frightened pigeons taking flight, and a louder  smacking that came from the paper closet. Robin turned, just in time to see Merryweather being clouded in stacks of paper as they fell to the ground. 

“Mr. De Noir!” She choked. 

He chuckled, moving in on her and kneeling to start collecting the papers on the ground. 

“You don’t have to-”

“No, don’t worry, I know it was my fault-”

“No! No, I was being-” 

And then the door slammed shut. 

“Oh my god, what did you do?” Merryweahter asked, immediately turning on him to accuse him. “I had the door propped-” 

“I didn’t do anything! It-” Then, Robin sighed. “It’s the students.” Robin stuck his hand in his pocket to pull his phone out, but his pocket was empty, in fact all of his pockets were empty, he would learn, as he uselessly patted at them. “Do you have your phone?”

“Um-” Merryweather made a vague gesture to the little table outside, where he had passed her keys and yes, now that he thought about it, her phone had been there as well. 

“So we’re stuck.” 

“Well- I-” Merryweather looked down at him. “Yes, I guess we are. Fuck.”

“Language, we’re at school.” Robin mocked as he went back to stacking the papers.

“Right, sorry.”Maria shook her head and knelt down next to him, gathering papers and replacing them in the box she had tipped over. 

“You ever learn how to take a joke?” 

Merryweather pursed her lips. “I can take a joke, when it's made between friends.” 

“Oh, that smarts.”

Merryweather looked at him and scoffed. 

“What?”

“Are you implying we’re friends?” 

“Of course not, I’m your mortal enemy.” 

Merryweather cocked a brow, “My mortal enemy? And I’m not yours?” 

Robin smirked. “You don’t get under my skin the way I get under yours.” 

“What am I then? If not your mortal enemy?” She said, with a slight challenging glare.

Robin pretended to give it great thought. “Academic rival?” 

“Oh good, I didn’t think I’d be held in such high regard to be considered a rival.” 

He snorted. 

She smiled. 

“So, when do you think they’ll let us out?” Robin whispered, after the papers were tidied, and they had taken to sitting on opposite sides of the closet, her legs stretched out before her, ankles crossed neatly. 

“Who?” Merryweather asked, leaning forward as she whispered back. Her plan had been sending out a sheet of paper with a note written on it under the door, their only hope being another teacher would pass through and free them. 

“Our students.” Robin cuffed his hand over his mouth. “They’re up to something.” 

She stared at him blankly. “What do you mean?” 

“One of your students came to my class saying you needed help.” 

Merryweather scoffed, “Surely you knew that was a lie.” 

 Robin nodded, “Of course, as soon as she said you wanted my help.”

Merryweather fought a smile, crossing her arms as she looked out to the door. “So why did you come?” 

“I encourage mischief every once in a while, besides I figured they had sent me away to do something to the classroom, not lock me in a closet with my academic rival.” He nudged his knee against her foot. 

“You should give them all detention, they basically got a free period out of us.” 

Robin shrugged, leaning his head back against the shelves. “Who knows? That might be a good thing.” 

It wasn’t until a few minutes before the bell rang that good old Henry came to let them out, an odd and slightly suspicious look on his face. 

*

“Now, I’m not mad, just disappointed.” Maria said, more or less quoting her Uncle. 

She had only been lightly reprimanded for being locked in the closet and abandoning her students, but Robin seemed to, once again, take the full brunt of the punishment, as Benjamin assigned him another week of detention watch. 

“However, as punishment, Mr. De Noir and I have decided to extend your projects.” Maria beamed as her students groaned, she knew just across the hall, Robin was giving the same speech, something they had planned together after Maria closed her office hours, and came to him with a proposition in detention. “We will no longer be only asking you for an original fairy tale, but would instead ask you to perform it in the amphitheatre before both classes.” 

There was a devilish look on her face as her class got uproarious, and she let them settle before she spoke again. “The deadline is now extended to next Friday, however tomorrow I would like a first draft turned in. You may form groups of two to five, choose one fairy tale, and work out the logistics.” 

“The fairy tale we wrote, or any fairy tale?”

“Your fairy tale, Marissa.” Maria smiled. “And since yesterday you all had a free period, today will be a lecture day-” More moaning, “-Please pull out your notebooks, and we’ll begin.” 

*

Saturday, the parking lot was nearly empty save his car. 

Maria parked not next to him, but close, as she popped out, her scarf wrapped warmly around her throat. This new plan was risky, but she felt she owed it to him. 

He would protest of course, and he would tell her to go away, but it didn’t sit right in her heart. So of course, when she marched into the detention hall, Robin looked up and rolled his eyes. He slid off the table, leaving his book behind and met her half way. 

“Here to plot against our students again?” 

“Nope.” Maria said, removing her scarf and wrapping it around her hands, “I’m here to free you.” 

Robin’s smirk softened, “You know I’m on the clock for this and you’re not?” 

“I’m working on grading this morning.” Maria held up her briefcase. “It's just a change of location.” 

Robin rolled his eyes, “You would work on a Saturday.” 

“Yes, and you said you had plans, so go on, go.” Maria attempted to walk him around before he reached out and grabbed her arm. 

“What are you doing, Maria?”

She smiled, “Rescuing the damsel.” 

“Dam- Now hold on there, Merryweather, if anyone’s the damsel it’s you.”

“Oh?” Maria popped her hip, “How so?” 

Robin opened his mouth to list off the countless examples that would mark him as the daring hero, but he rather came up empty. 

“You’re the one trapped in the tallest tower, not me.” 

“I am not trapped here.”

“Precisely, go on, I’m rescuing you, go on, leave. I have dragons to slay.” 

He scoffed. “I can’t, I’ll get in more trouble.” 

Maria shrugged, “I won’t tell Headmaster if you don’t.” 

Robin struggled not to smile. “I can’t.”

“You can and you will.”

“Y’know, usually it's the other way around, the handsome young hero saving the princess.” 

Maria shrugged, “I rather like Cupid and Psyche.”

Then, there was something about the way his eyes lit up at her words that made her heart flutter, her stomach pitch, and her mouth run dry. Had that been a mistake? To imply that they were- that she was doing this out of- 

“This isn’t fair.”

“It’s perfectly fair.” Maria argued, “I was in your debt, now I’m not.” 

He shook his head, “You’re going to get me in trouble.” 

“I thought you liked mischief.” 

Robin smiled, and before Maria could make another comment, he reached out and squeezed her arm. “I still feel like I owe you for this, but thank you.” 

She almost thought he was going to lean down and kiss her, her cheek, ot temple, or her lips, but he turned and went back to get his book and jacket. 

Maria watched him leave, the door shutting behind him, and then the empty air for a few seconds before she glanced at the students, who were doing their best to avoid her eye and trying to stifle grins. 

She cleared her throat and got to work reading the fairy tales. 

*

Monday morning, she attempted to speak with her Uncle again. 

“Really, he doesn’t deserve any of it, and I know you said that you had to set standards, but this is ridiculous! Not even the students get this much detention!” She had started sitting down, but at some point she had gotten up to pace madly to and fro. “I mean it’s not just a detriment to him, but his students! Though not many of his students have taken me up on my offer, they may not feel comfortable with it! And beyond that, there’s usually a very fair rotation for the detention slots, and I think it’s been a while since it was my turn! And the closet thing wasn’t his fault! He only came in to help me, it’s not like he did it on purpose, that’s hardly worth another week of detention!”

“Maria-”

“I would understand if he had locked me in there, but he was trapped just as much as I was!”

“Maria-”

“And we both settled on how to discipline the students who, I already told you, were the real culprits!”

“Maria!” 

Maria jumped, her hand on her heart the other grasping the back of the chair. “Yes?”

“If you would really like to, I can take over some of his detention-”

“Oh really? You will!” Maria raced around the desk, wrapping her arms around her Uncle’s head and neck. “Oh thank you! I felt so guilty about all of it!” 

“Right.” Her Uncle muttered. “Guilt.” 

*

Robin sat on his desk, laughing as one of the students shared a more or less irrelevant story with the class which kind of had to do with fairy tales, when Maria knocked on the door and came into class. 

“Mr. De Noir, do you have a moment?” She asked, and some of the students had the audacity to laugh or gently ‘oooh!’ at his departure. 

He followed Maria out into the hall, mindful to stand in front of her so his students couldn’t get a good look at her facial expressions through the window. 

“I believe my debts are paid.” Maria beamed, “Mostly.” 

Robin cocked his head to one said. 

“I slayed the beast. Headmaster Merryweather said he would take over detention next week.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“What did you do- how did you-?” Robin cut himself off with a scoff, she was unbelievable. “Damn, I really was the damsel.”

“Language.” Maria’s eyes flashed to the window behind him, and when he took a look, the students ran away from the window and back to their seats. 

“You didn’t- You really didn’t-” He clenched his hand at his side, tempted to touch her again, tempted to wrap her in his arms and pick her up off the floor and spin her around. Instead, he marvelled at her, his eyes wide, his mouth open like an idiot, and he couldn’t look away. 

She blossomed under his gaze, her cheeks pinkening, her eyes glistening with pride. 

“You’re amazing.” 

*

Miss Merryweather kept Mr. De Noir company for the rest of his detention periods, the students noticed, and word spread very quickly. Some students, rather foolishly, got themselves in trouble so they would have to go to detention, so they could report back.

And it was very interesting how close they sat, and how often they gazed into each other's eyes without speaking, and how close they came to touching the other only to stop themselves before they got too close. 

The reports from detention made their way around, from student to student, until even the teachers heard, and placed their bets. 

“No, they’re both too stubborn,” Ms. Swann said, “Neither will admit to anything until it's unbearable.”

“Don’t underestimate Robin, he’s rather determined, and once he wants something that’s it.” Mr. Turner said. 

“But Maria has much more class than that.” Mrs. Fitzwilliam said. 

“That doesn’t mean she’ll deny herself the pleasure of a man’s company, especially one that looks like him.” Ms. Thomas suggested. 

And, inevitably, word got back to Headmaster Merryweather who was not completely unsurprised by the developments, after all he saw too much of himself in his niece. Falling in love with a supposed enemy was practically a family trait.

*

Maria sat down in the amphitheatre, her students settled and the first group ready to go, her rubric out on her clipboard, while Robin leaned back on the bench behind them, his own rubric off to the side as her students went first. They had a box of props and costumes for the students to use, and yes the girls did fight over who got to wear the pearls, and there was a massive disagreement on who got the sword with each group that came up. Whether or not the story had anything to do with swords. 

They watched each class file in, as they were instructed to come straight to the amphitheatre, and file out once they were done, though Robin and Maria hardly paid attention as they did. 

There was many a giggling, many a stare, and a many whispering that made their way across the classes, but Maria didn’t particularly care to take notice. 

She was too busy trying to ascertain if his knee pressed into her thigh was an accident or if he was doing it on purpose, and if his eyes were on her the whole day instead of any of the performances, and if he was arguing because he really disagreed with her or just for the sake of arguing. But when the final bell dismissed their last class, neither Robin nor Maria rose up to leave. They stayed, seated on the stone benches, her elbows on her knees, her chin in her hands as she stared up at him. 

There was something so captivating about his eyes when he spoke, something pleasant when his mouth moved, something enigmatic about how he motioned with his hands.  

“Tomorrow is your last day of detention.” Maria said, when an hour had passed and neither had moved. 

“Yes, and you don’t have to storm the castle for me.” Robin looked up at her as she stood to gather her things. “Hermes doesn’t have to tell me all the work you’ve done to make up for it.” 

She felt herself blush, because there it was again, this odd comparison. “Well, one could argue that my three dangerous tasks are complete.”

“Dangerous?” He grinned at the incredulous insinuation.

“Well, when one goes up against a man like my Uncle.” She twisted her face into one of horror and Robin laughed. “Though, I am afraid I will remain his servant forever.” 

“Yes, I suppose going up against him is quite daunting.” 

“Daunting indeed. But-” Maria bit her lip, turning away to look out at the amphitheatre. “Did I manage to fix the rift of my betrayal?” 

Robin stood and took her hand, “There was never anything to fix.”

If any students had stayed behind, they would have seen Mr. De Noir lean down to kiss Ms. Merryweather, and if any teachers had walked by on their way to the parking lot, they would have seen the two running off hand in hand like teenagers, and if Headmaster Merryweather had looked out the window of his office, he would have seen Mr. De Noir press Ms. Merryweather against her car as he kissed her again and again, but no did, and no one saw them getting into their cars and following each other out of the parking lot, and on Saturday, despite his best attempts, Ms. Merryweather came again, but she did not come to rescue him a second time. Rather, she sat with him, and if the students noticed they were sitting too close to one another, or that they held hands under the table, they kept their thoughts to themselves. 

*

Fairytales are some of the most important works of fiction known to man. They offer life lessons, human connection, magic, and some of our favourites: love. 

Not every fairy tale has a happily ever after, not every fairy tale ends with true love’s kiss, but who could argue that the most captivating ones have just a touch of that special magic? Not fairy godmothers, trickster sprites, or devils, but a very human emotion, a lasting emotion, one that resonates and rings throughout the centuries. 

@stabat-mater @theargopriestess @maybeamagpie @hotpotatoburn @lalla0019 @immergladsss

[lucy4242564]

.cowboy like me.

Chapter 8.

Religion’s in your lips, even if it’s a false god

~We’d still worship this love~

“Hell you talkin’ bout girl?” Daryl asked, forgetting in that moment he was surrounded by a group of unfamiliars.

It was her turn to be confused, so she threw her hands in front of her to begin an argument.

“Grandpa used to tell me stories about the Appalachian Mountains when I was a teenager. Stupid stuff that you aren’t supposed to do, like not to whistle in the woods.” Lilah explained, thinking her boyfriend may have misinterpreted her.

“Never leave a marked trail because it’s marked for a reason.” Her brother butted in.

For the first time in a while things felt dreamy.

 

She’d learned more in the past two months than she’d learned in what felt like her entire life. Things they didn’t teach you in school.

 

Lilah couldn’t fathom how quick someone could rub off on you until she met Daryl Dixon. Before she knew it he had her learning how to drive his truck, exploring the mountains of Georgia, and in his bed every night.

 

She wasn’t the only one counting paces. Daryl quickly discovered how much of a spitfire the short, blonde girl was. Sometimes too much for her own good.

 

Lilah wasn’t one to take a lot of shit from people. Especially people that tried playing her out to be just some stupid or helpless girl. She was educated and she was quick to let someone know how she felt about things.

 

The revelation had Daryl in a chokehold.

 

He never assumed she was an idiot or a damsel in distress. Just ignorant to some things. He still did. The way she paid little attention to her surroundings when she got too caught up in something, or how she blatantly ignored the threatening situations she’d get herself into.

 

Of course he was protective, but some things went beyond that.

  

 

 “It wasn’t that big of a deal Daryl!” She yelled at him as she slammed the truck door.

 

“Not a big deal my ass!” He yelled back, starting the truck and peeling out the parking lot.

 

Lilah and Brittany had met up with their respective significant others at a dive bar that evening. They had gotten there first and she’d at some point, gotten into a conversation with two guys. One of the men had offered to buy her a drink but she declined. Using the fact that she had a boyfriend to deny any other offers . Neither of the men seemed to mind and carried on.

 

The conversation had started off after Lilah commented on one of their tops. It was a concert shirt that she’d also attended the previous summer. It then sprung into them talking about her being from New Jersey. Their names were revealed to be Mark and Robert and they were definitely on the older side of men. Especially for her age. She ranged them to be in their late 40s to early 50s, but never got the chance to find out due to their interaction being interrupted by Daryl.

 

After a brief argument inside the bar, he’d all but dragged her out the door and to his truck.

 

Where their argument continued.

 

“What is your problem?” She snarled, looking over to Daryl, whose jaw was tight as he clenched his teeth.

 

He didn’t respond the entire drive back to his place.

 

Just heavy breathing.

 

This hadn’t been the first time something like this had happened.

 

Just three days before, he found her walking down the sidewalk that led to bad side of town. He knew; it’s where Merle spent the majority of his life, bringing Daryl along with him a lot of the time. She told him she’d just been going on a walk from downtown where she’d been shopping. Even after explaining it to her, she acted like it wasn’t that big of a deal.

 

It frustrated him incredibly.

 

She went from being so wary about being new to town, to becoming too comfortable with exploring.

 

“Uh-uh.” Lilah started, “If you can’t talk back to me, you can take me to the apartment.” She said when the truck exited town.

 

Still no response.

 

“I know you hear me.” Her seatbelt came unbuckled and she turned to face him.

 

Silence.

 

“Daryl Dixon!”

 

“I’m tryna drive! Wait til we get home before ya start actin’ crazy.” He wanted to regret what he said, but he meant it.

 

“Fuck you.” Lilah spat out. Her head turned to look out the passenger window as tears filled her eyes.

 

The tension in the truck held firm through the winding roads and gravel driveway. She tried to keep her tears from spilling over but it was effortless. Saltwater ran down her cheeks, choking back sobs.

 

She hated being such a crybaby.

 

Before the truck came to a complete stop, the passenger door was open and Lilah was marching to the front porch. The slam of a door followed immediately behind. “Lilah! Have ya lost yer fuckin’ mind?” Daryl called out, chasing the girl.

 

He grabbed her wrist and spun her around before she got too far. Anger clouded both of their minds, but it didn’t prevent the pang in Daryl’s heart when he saw her tears.

 

“Leave me alone.” She tried saying with bite, but a sob blocked her throat.

 

“No, ya wanted to talk so damn bad,”

 

“That was before you started calling me names!”

 

He rolled his eyes, “Oh boo-hoo, cry about it titty-baby.”

 

Lilah tugged her wrist out of his grasp and flew up the steps to the door. Cursing herself for being cautious, she was met with a locked handle. Begrudgingly she dropped her hand and stood back, waiting for Daryl to come open it.

 

A thought crossed his mind as he saw her hit a roadblock in front of him.

 

He shook his head though, now was not the time. So he stalked forward, unlocking the door and entering his house. “I’m sleeping in here tonight.” She said, laying down on the couch before Daryl could get his shoes off.

 

His shoulders dropped and he looked to the ceiling, letting out a deep breath. This was new territory for him.

 

Merle would have told him this was the shit he deserved after getting too drunk on her body. If he listened, tonight would’ve been so much easier. His jaw clenched looking back down a the girl’s back that faced him. He never meant to make her that upset.

 

“Darlin’” Daryl sighed out. Making his way over to the couch, he lifted her feet and sat down, placing them in his lap.

 

Daryl was the one being unreasonable, not her. He stormed into the bar and started all of this. She couldn’t believe he was pinning it on her.

 

“I didn’t mean ta upset’cha like this.” Lilah laid there, listening to his apology. Or what she assumed was an apology. “I just wish ya’d get what I’m tryna tell ya.”

 

“Then what are you trying to tell me then!?” She screamed out. Her legs flew from his lap then she was on her knees yelling at him.

 

He grabbed her wrists again, stopping them from flying all over the place like they normally did when she got worked up. “Thatcha keep puttin’ yerself in sketchy ass situations, yer gonna end up dead in a ditch somewhere!” He matched her energy.

 

“I was fine Daryl! You’re the only one that had a problem!”

 

“Course I had a problem! You were talkin’ to two drunks that like to bring home the first girl that’ll talk to’em.”

 

Lilah flinched, knowing he was probably right. She hadn’t realized how far she’d push him until the grip on wrists started to hurt. Trying to wiggle out of his grasp she pulled back. “I can take care of myself.”

 

“Can you Lilah?” His eyes were full of anger, “Cause yer doin’ a shitty job at gettin’ yer hands loose and I’m barely holdin’em” Daryl dropped her hands and shoved her back enough to stand up from the couch. A pack of cigarettes were pulled out of his pocket while he walked out the front door. If he didn’t take a smoke he was going to lose his mind. Lilah was too stubborn for her own good. Why could she just get it through her head he only wanted her to be careful. To just pay attention.

 

His emotional suffering came to end when the door screeched open, the watery eyed girl joining his company. Before he turned to face her, a set of arms wrapped around his waist from behind and he felt her face press into his back. “I’m sorry.” He heard her mumble as he threw the barely lit cigarette to the ground and spinning around.

 

“I need’ya ta pay attention Lilah. Please.”

 

“Promise.”

 

 

Her heart had been beating out of her chest since she woke up that morning. She’d slept poorly, tossing and turning, waking only to Daryl rubbing his hands over her shoulders and pulling her closer. She couldn’t believe summer had come to an end and her family was traveling down to help her get situated for college. There was so much to tell them and so many things for her to show them in just a week. Was that even enough time?

 

Lilah’s bright eyes beamed when she heard a knock at the door, she could’ve lit up the entire state of Georgia.

 

“Lyle! Our parents are here!” Brittany called down the hallway.

 

“Daddy!” Lilah shouted when her parents walked through the doorway.

 

“Hey pumpkin!” The clean cut man greeted, pulling his daughter into a strong hug.

 

“Guess I don’t matter huh?” Her mom called out before she was squeezed into a side hug by Brittany.

 

“How was the drive?” Lilah asked as her older brother came into the apartment.

 

“Long.”

 

Lilah’s eyes widened, “Landon! I didn’t know you were coming!”

 

“Somebody had to drive our grandparents.”

 

If her smile could get bigger, her teeth would’ve shattered.

 

“Grandma and grandpa came?”

 

“Grandpa was going to drive himself if I wouldn’t.” Her brother said. “They’re back at the hotel though, I think we’re planning on going out in a little bit for food.”

 

Brittany had been showing her best friends parents around the apartment, her mother making comments at every turn.

 

Glancing at the time she smiled.

 

Daryl was always off early on Friday’s.

 

“Where at?”

 

 

 “Ya sure about this?” Daryl asked pulling into a steakhouse parking lot.

 

Lilah called him as soon as her parents left for the hotel. She was nervous to ask him to meet her parents, but she bit the bullet and did anyways.

 

He meant the world to her, and she was confident in thinking she’d never felt that feeling before. Like an invisible string was bringing her to him and tying them together.

 

She could see forever in his eyes.

 

“Of course! Daryl, I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t.”

 

The man looked at her in awe and trailed behind her through the parking lot.

 

Daryl had never met anyone parents before. He wasn’t exactly the type you’d bring home to do any of that with. It would never happen on his end. No way in hell would she meet his father. He wasn’t even looking forward to her meeting his brother, but that was inevitable.

 

Yet she waltzed through the doors fingers interlaced with his like he was a prize to be shown off.

 

If anyone’s nerves were shot, it was his.

 

She’d spoke of her family before. There was no doubt she came from money and had a proper upbringing; He clocked that early on. A total opposite to him. There were many instances where he wondered what other kind of guys she’d been with before. Who he needed to compare himself to.

 

“Daryl,” her voice called out. “You’re thinking yourself to death.”

 

He couldn’t remember the last time he said that line to her, as of late she’d caught him in his thoughts often.

 

There was a wait judging by the booths being full inside. She was sure her grandparents were at least here, they were never late, but peering around the room she didn’t see them. Our the corner of her eye, on the other of the opposite exit to where she stood, she caught sight of her dad.

 

She tugged him forward.

 

He saw a group of people he was walking towards and assumed it had been her family. Before they made it to the door, he measured out who he could.

 

The older couple on the bench was her grandparents. Her grandfather had a full beard and mustache, gray from age, and wore a fishermen’s shirt. Beside him was an older lady, dressed in a matching pant suit and he could see a broach glimmering on her chest.

 

In front of them stood a guy that looked to be about Daryl’s age and another older couple. Her parents.

 

Her dad stood tall, clean shaven, and dressed in a yellow, polo shirt with navy blue pants on. It was a basic outfit, but Daryl could tell it cost more than his entire wardrobe combined. As he went to take in her mother, he was met with a door waiting to be pushed open.

 

Instinctively he did so, letting Lilah walk beneath his arm as he held it open for her.

 

“I told Landon to text you and tell you were we were parked.” The man he had previously assumed was Lilah’s dad spoke.

 

“I guess I wasn’t paying attention.” She responded.

 

Almost in slow motion, Daryl felt eyes lingering over from her face to his unfamiliar one. Her fingers entwined with his again and without looking at her, he knew she had a smile on her face by the sound of her voice. “This is Daryl,” She beamed up at him, confirming his suspicion. “My boyfriend.”

 

Boyfriend.

 

By the time the thought registered in his mind, a hand stuck out in front of him. Daryl locked eyes with her father before shaking his hand.

 

This is what’s supposed to happen?

 

She pointed out everyone to him. “That’s my mom Kim and my brother Landon.” Her hand then motioned towards the bench. “And that’s my grandma and grandpa. They won’t let you call them by their real names, it’s forbidden.”

 

“How do you do,” her grandmother greeted.

 

He gave her as warm of a smile as he could. Daryl felt out of place standing amongst the group. Under the gaze of her father, he regretted his decision to come out. Lilah could tell he was uncomfortable. She wished there was a way to ease his mind, but resorted to giving his hand a long squeeze.

 

“How’d y’all meet?” Lilah’s grandfather was the next to speak. Daryl could hear the hint of a southern accent. Not defined, but it was there.

 

Daryl looked to Lilah to respond.

 

“Mutual friends.” She answered.

 

  

Through the dinner he kept quiet. He’d been brought into conversation a couple times, but even then he gave short responses.

 

“How many checks?” The waitress asked as they were getting ready to head out.

 

Daryl was the first to respond in that instance. “We’re together.” He motioned between himself and Lilah.

 

Him paying was the normal, but the girl next to him shook her head and mumbled along almost in sync with her brother,

 

“Not gonna happen.”

 

Daryl’s face twisted in confusion. He wasn’t sure why since he knew what they meant by that.

 

“Just one.” Her dad called out at the other end of the table, flashing his card at her.

 

The waiter nodded and rolled over to him.

 

Daryl went to protest, but Lilah tugged on his arm. “He always pays.”

 

“Even on Father’s Day.” Landon added.

 

So Daryl bit the inside of his cheek and retreated in silence again. Zoning out of the conversations until he was pulled back into one in the parking lot.

 

“Is this close to where you’re from Grandpa?” Lilah asked, walking along the sidewalk, sandwiched between Daryl and the older man.

 

“No. I lived about a hour and a half south of Atlanta. Probably almost three hours from here.” The old man said. “You from around here Daryl?”

 

He looked over and nodded his head. “Grew up all in the mountains.”

 

A smirk crossed her grandfathers face. “I remember when you used to be scared of all those stories I’d tell you,” He nudged his granddaughter. “Now look at ya.”

 

Lilah rolled her eyes and propped against her brother’s Jeep. “Because that stuff you used to tell me was about creatures lurking in the Appalachian Mountains, not around here .”

 

Daryl wasn’t sure if she was being serious or not, but he couldn’t help but step back and look at her in confusion. His mouth worked faster than his brain did. “Hell you talkin’ bout girl?” Daryl asked, forgetting in that moment he was surrounded by a group of unfamiliars.

 

It was her turn to be confused, so she threw her hands in front of her to begin an argument. “Grandpa used to tell me stories about the Appalachian Mountains when I was a teenager. Stupid stuff that you aren’t supposed to do, like not to whistle in the woods.” Lilah explained, thinking her boyfriend may have misinterpreted her.

 

“Never leave a marked trail because it’s marked for a reason.” Her brother butted in.

 

“Don’t be in the woods from dusk til dawn.” Daryl was shaking his head as she continued.

 

“Darlin’, I hate ta burst yer bubble, but’chu’ve done all that already.”

 

Lilah stepped back from the truck to regard the man in front of her. It dawned on her that her initial assumptions of the area could very well be wrong. She never asked too many questions about their exact locations as Daryl would lead her through the wilderness. He always seemed like he knew where he was going so she had no reason to question it.

 

The only time she did was when he brought her out to shoot a gun for the first time and all he said was they were ‘bout half an hour away from the house, ain’t nothin’ to worry bout’ hittin’’

 

“None of that stuff’s true though.” The statement came as more of a question as she looked between Daryl and her Grandpa.

 

“For your sake, I hope not.” The older man said, an ominous tone in his voice. “But I’ll see y’all tomorrow Star.” He turned from her to open the passenger side door.

 

 

 

“It’s just folklore Lilah,” Daryl tried “ain’t nothin’ out here.”

 

“Hang the fucking towels Dixon.”

 

He didn’t think he’d have to actually convince her to come back to his place, but after their last conversation of the evening she was wound up. Lilah had him hanging towels in front of his windows and double-locking the doors as soon as they got there.

 

The tales of the Appalachian Mountains were nothing new to Daryl. He grew where it either ended or began, depending on how one looked at it, the ‘rules’ of living there were like the 10 commandments of the area.

 

Nothing but a load of crap if you asked him.

 

Still— he hung the towels and double-locked the doors.

 

 

For the first time in a long time, Lilah spent a weekend with her family.

 

As much as she wanted to have Daryl tag along, it would’ve just been for selfish reason. He had been uncomfortable Friday night and she wasn’t going to put him through it again.

 

His absence didn’t go unnoticed though.

 

While they drove to the store so her parents could stock up for the week, she rode in the backseat next to her grandpa. Landon agreed to take their grandma to a coffee shop and meet with them for lunch, but when her dad started speaking, she knew he was just avoiding an awkward conversation.

 

“You never said anything about a boyfriend.” He left the statement open ended.

 

A blush crept up her neck and to her cheeks. “Nobody asked.” She said sheepishly.

 

A tension that she wasn’t expecting grew in the air when her father grunted. “Lilah,” The tone was chastising “you don’t need to get caught up in some guy right before you go back to school. I’m happy you had a good summer, but you need to keep your head in the game.”

 

“And if you weren’t too busy to answer your phone, maybe someone would’ve asked.” Her mom always had to put her two-cents in.

 

All of the happiness that her parents were visiting diminished in a hurry. She wondered if she just jumped out the car now, would it be better than being trapped here.

 

“He’s different.” That was so generic of her to say.

 

A breathy exhale came from her mom. “Lilah, there are going to be other guys. Especially when you’re back at college. That’s where I met your father.”

 

“Not like him.” Lilah stood firm.

 

“I’ll admit sweet pea, I can hear the charm in his accent and understand what you mean.” She clenched her jaw and listened to the fake, caring voice her mother had. “But he’s not the only boy with a southern accent.”

 

Lilah groaned, “You don’t think I know that? Are you sure you understand? Because if you think it’s all in his voice, you’re mistaken.”

 

“Watch your tone.” Her dad warned.

 

“I’m being treated like I’m a 16 year old that’s lovesick over a boy she met a week ago.”

 

“You don’t have to have an attitude, we’re just trying to talk to you. We want you to succeed in life.” He said.

 

“You didn’t give Landon any crap when he had girlfrien-“

 

“Landon’s been gay since he was little, those girls were just coverups.” Her mom cut her off.

 

She wasn’t wrong. It didn’t change anything though. When the car pulled into a parking space, Lilah was quick to bolt out.

  

  

“Can we test drive it?” Lilah asked, batting her eyelashes at her dad.

 

The weekend had flown by and it was now Tuesday. Her, her dad, and her grandpa were car shopping to find Lilah a dependable source of transportation now that things were going to be very busy for her.

 

The conversation about her love life had been stalled thankfully, but that didn’t cease how often Lilah thought of him.

 

“Of course sweet pea,” He walked off to find a salesperson while she kept looking at the vehicle in front of her.

 

It was a bright yellow Jeep Wrangler that she could definitely see herself driving regularly. The interior was all black with a squeaky clean radio that looked like it needed some breaking in. Her grandfather was inspecting it from the opposite side as if he was looking for a bomb to be attached to it.

 

“You must be daughter,” a man that looked to be in his mid-40s walked up. “I’m Chuck.” He greeted. She smiled over at him and her father who had been walking in front of him.

 

“He said it’s a manual transmission Lyle. We’re gonna have to keep looking.” Her dad said, his face covered in disappointment.

 

“What’s that?”

 

“A stick shift.” Chuck answered.

 

Her face brightened immediately, shaking her head she said, “I can drive stick!” A confused look from her dad and her grandpa who was coming round the Jeep had her explaining. “Daryl taught me.”

 

She couldn’t hide a smug smile when her dad’s jaw tightened. Grandpa seemed to be impressed and more than ready to go for a spin though.

 

Gravel flew in the driveway like a doorbell letting Lilah know Daryl was home. She rushed out the door to meet him.

 

He got out the truck with a lousy look on his face. Eyebrows scrunched and lip popped up. “The hell is that?” Daryl asked, walking up to the new vehicle in front of his house.

 

“Her name is Berry and you need to be nicer to her.” Lilah pouted.

 

Instead of the Jeep, she’d settled on a baby pink Beetle. It had the cutest control console that matched the exterior color and with a lot of convincing her dad agreed on stopping by an auto shop for flower rims. Lilah saw it in a movie once and needed them obviously.

 

She ran up and opened the door for him to get a better look. A proud smile on her face, she motioned to the clear vase that sat beside the steering wheel.“It came with a flower vase, so you’ll have to start getting me something to put in there.”

 

“Looks like a clown car.”

 

“It’s pretty!”

 

“Why ya got daisies on yer rims? The color whutn’t good enough for ya?”

 

“You’re supposed to say that you like my new car.” Lilah grumbled.

 

“I like that I ain’t gotta haul you around everywhere now.” He teased, but was swiftly met with a shove.

 

Lilah closed the car door and dramatically walked to the porch, leaving her boyfriend to follow her at a slow pace.

 

When Daryl walked through his front door he was met with another surprise.

 

Curtains lined his windows and he could see blinds peeking out behind them. They were long and white with layered ruffles falling below the window sill. She was dressing up his house now.

 

He walked into the bedroom to find her wearing next to nothing except some silky type lingerie, draped across a freshly made bed, with a comforter he wasn’t familiar with.

 

A tingle ran through his body and straight to his pants.

 

Fuck.

 

“Orange is still your favorite color right?” She asked, outlining the orange silk on her body with her fingers.

 

“Don’t know why ya went a got that,” Daryl began undoing his belt. “It’s just comin’ right off.”

 

Lilah shook her head and rolled off of the bed before padding across the floor until she stood in front of him. When he unbuttoned his jeans her knees hit the floor and her hand rubbed over his boxers.

 

A moan escaped his mouth, though he was unsure of it was from her touch or the sight of her kneeling in front of him.

 

With an assertive pull, he stood before her bare, save his shirt. Both hands reached forward to grasp his erection firmly as pre-cum leaked from the tip. She smirked when it gave her the reaction she had hoped for. Daryl’s fingers twined into her hair as he hissed her name through gritted teeth.

 

It was a plea that masked as a warning. Batting her eyes up at him she began stroking slowly along his length.

 

He groaned tightening his grip on the blonde tresses.

 

“I knew you’d feel funny about all the new stuff in the house.” Lilah whispered to him, her tongue licking her lips before she spoke. “Figured I should try and soften you up some. Relieve your stress.” The fake innocence behind baby blues met the other set of blue orbs; desire burning through them. “I haven’t opened my mouth for you in a while. Thought you might want to use it.”

 

A frustrated noise left Daryl’s throat, he was losing his patience with the slow rhythm that she had been maintaining. “Probably cause you treat it like it’s made of gold.”

 

He was so hard, veins traveling over his thickness as it throbbed ever so slightly. She wanted it in her mouth.

 

“It’s all yours Dixon. Whatever you want.”

 

Daryl raked his fingers through her hair once more and wasted no time guiding her head to his cock. Her lips slid over him slowly, taking in his length at an easy pace. She hollowed her cheeks out and sucked more moderately, causing him to hiss.

 

The grip he had on her hair tightened as he began forcing her to take him deeper only stopping when a gagging sound filled the room. Daryl’s eyes that he hadn’t even realized were shut, shot open. Before forcing her mouth off of him though, he felt hands on his hips that held him in place. Trying to interpret that she was okay, she continued to bob her head.

 

The desperate, watery tears that clouded her vision only spurred him on.

 

He continued to sink into her mouth at a steadier tempo. Not able to get that look out of his mind he tugged at her hair, earning him a moan that vibrated around his length. “Look at me.” A whine that caused her to clench her thighs, left his mouth when she obeyed. “Good girl.”

 

Lilah loved when he was like this. Daryl Dixon was a soft lover and she appreciated that greatly. He loved her body thoroughly and kissed her with a tenderness he reserved only for her. Then there were times that one of them needed to feel something more than just adoration. Times when they subjected themselves to another world of pleasure.

 

It was the only time Lilah enjoyed being degraded. Where she wanted nothing than to be praised by him, but in the same instance, wanted him to use her for only his pleasure. She’d never been that way with anyone before. It was a part of her she surrendered to him out of pure ecstasy.

 

“Fuck Lilah.” His thrusts increased as did the grip on her hair. “That mouth looks so fuckin’ good wrapped around my dick.” She circled her tongue around the tip as it re-entered her throat that earned her a sudden jolt that she wasn’t expecting, causing her to gag. “Yer gonna take every bit of it ain’t you?” Daryl asked, his pace becoming erratic. “Cause yer my good girl. My little slut.”

 

Lilah hummed against him in response, eyes still locked on his. She knew he was close when he threw his head back. His thrusts stopped but he continued to use her mouth, guiding it for a few more seconds until stilling it in place.

 

She felt warmth flood down her throat before it filled her mouth then leaked lightly from the corners of her lips. Her eyes never stopped looking at him, taking in every ounce of his coming undone. Lilah reveled in watching his face when he was at his peak. More times than not she missed it, so when she caught him in the moment, it was a marvel.

 

Daryl’s chest heaved as he caught his breath before looking down at Lilah and removing his hands from her hair. Quickly removing his shirt, he bent down and wiped the mess that dripped down her face. He was keenly aware of her cleanliness issues.

 

“L?” It was a nickname he had given her that he used sparingly. The same flash of concern took his face as it did every time after they’d gotten even the slightest bit rough.

 

“D?” She questioned back, a soft smile gracing her lips. Confirming things were fine.

 

Leaning lower, he kissed along her cheekbones and traveled down her neck. His hand reached out to touch the wetness that had formed, but he stopped when she pushed back.

 

“Just wanted to make you happy.” The soft smile hasn’t left her face. “The new bedspread was one thing, but I know the curtains, bathroom, and toaster are a lot.”

 

His eyebrows furrowed. “Bathroom and toaster?”

 

Her smile turned into a nervous grin.

 

“Honey, your shower curtains were growing mold and you needed a few things in there. You can’t keep leaving your toothbrush on the bathroom counter like that, it’s gross.”

 

As she was talking, he stood up and headed to the room in question.

 

“It’s not even that bad!” Lilah cried, hurrying after him.

 

“The curtains fine, why’d’ya have ta get a damn kids toothbrush holder?”

 

“It’s Care Bears and I like it.” She stuck her tongue out.

 

“Ain’t you gettin’ yer own place soon? Why didn’t’ya get one for there?”

 

“I did!” She beamed. “We’ll have matching ones.”

 

“Bet we’ll have matchin’ toasters too.” Daryl said before pushing past her to go to the kitchen.

 

“Sure will!”

 

Lilah followed behind, giggling to herself.

 

“Nice butt.” She called out as she watched his bare ass disappear out the bedroom door.

 

“Shudup.” 

 

  

“I coulda got my own damn toaster if I knew’d’ya wanted to make dinner.”

 

Lilah sat comfortably on the counter, pushing her plate to the side. After he whined about having a pink toaster, Daryl retreated to the bathroom for a shower while she made her latest food fixation. B.L.Ts. Daryl stood in between her legs as he talked to her about her eventful day. “You would’ve gotten an ugly one.”

 

He let out a breathy laugh.

 

“I got stuff for spaghetti tomorrow,” Lilah said, steering the subject. “Or we could do breakfast for dinner and I can make pancakes.”

 

She never stopped puzzling him. Even after almost 3 months he wondered why she bothered doing so much. He was just happy she existed and was content with only her presence.

 

Part of him knew this was what normal was. Taking care of each other in the simplest ways shouldn’t have been that big of a deal to him; but it was.

 

“Spaghetti.” He chose.

 

Daryl was thinking too much, but this time he couldn’t help it. He’d got caught up on normalcy and now his mind was clouded with all of his issues.

 

Why did he have so many issues?

 

“D?” Lilah questioned. The look on his face said a more words than she needed to hear for her to know something was wrong.

 

“I’ma head to bed.” Daryl said, backing away.

 

“Daryl.”

 

“I’m good, just need to lay down.”

 

He hadn’t revealed that part of himself yet. She saw his scars, but never questioned them. He wasn’t sure what she thought they were from and he didn’t care. As long as she didn’t comment.

 

Daryl didn’t sleep that night. Even after Lilah had lulled into dreamland, he couldn’t rest.

 

All night he questioned whether he was good enough for her.

 

 

This had been the longest, most agonizing, dreadful day of her life.

 

While her grandparents drove around to sight see; Lilah, her brother, and parents went apartment hunting. They’d already gone through 3 complexes, but her mom found something wrong with all of them. Lilah was dead set on the first one.

 

It was about 20 minutes away from school, but still outside the city. She loved the walk in closet and a full body mirror covered a part of the bedroom wall. That didn’t matter though, she had to amuse her mom and keep looking. 

 

 

“Thank you.” Lilah leaned over to kiss her boyfriend’s cheek.

 

They were on their way to have breakfast with her family before they headed back to New Jersey. The week felt like it flew by and despite a few arguments, Lilah was upset they were leaving.

 

She spent Thursday getting a lease signed on the apartment she ultimately wanted and exploring the new area with her family. Her heart wanted them to stay and help her move in, but it would’ve been impractical. There were still two weeks before then and they’d already done so much for her.

 

“I’m payin’ for you this time.” Daryl said as he parked the truck outside of a newly built brunch spot.

 

There wasn’t a wait and they’d surprisingly been the first to get there. A waitress seated them at a long, pushed-together table before disappearing. The place was unique for the area. There were chandeliers made up of different flowers hanging above them and the walls were painted a dark green. They sat in plush yellow chairs that has gold legs to match the legs of the glass table they were seated under.

 

It reminded Lilah of a whimsical painting she’d created in her daydreams before.

 

She wrapped an arm around Daryl’s before resting her head on his shoulder. “We should come here again.”

 

“Y’don’t even know if it’s good.”

 

“But the atmosphere is so fun.”

 

Daryl began looking around the place, trying to understand. Nothing stood out to him besides the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. It wasn’t his kind of thing, but he had to admit that it was eye-catching.

 

Lilah ordered a flight of mimosas when the waitress came not even looking to see if they served them. It made Daryl wonder if places like this were common-space for her. He felt extremely out of his element; she acted like it was a normal Friday.

 

All week she’d acted differently. Not in a negative way. Daryl had just noticed her carrying herself in a new manner. One he wasn’t familiar with.

 

It was a constant reminder of how different they were.

 

He didn’t want to get ahead of himself again though.

 

Not today.

 

“Am I gonna have ta bring a drunk girl home with me again?” He asked, shaking out of his thoughts.

 

Lilah rolled her eyes. She saw the waitress bringing back their drinks, smiling kindly as she walked away to wait for the rest of their party.

 

“Maybe a buzzed one,” She took a sip from one of the glasses. “You might even get lucky if you tell me how pretty I look today.” 

 

  

That day passed and Daryl was happy to be taking a breather.

 

Ever since her family had gotten into town, he felt like he needed to walk on eggshells. He hardly saw them, but it didn’t change the uneasy feeling when he knew they were only a few miles away. There were still three weeks until Lilah’s schedule became full. Daryl was going to take advantage of that and spend that time relaxing as much as possible.

 

At least that’s what he thought the day before things went to shit.

Chapter 9.

[mx-ryder]

Some thoughts on Hazbin Hotel

I literally just watched HH this week, followed by binging Helluva Boss on YouTube right after. And my Dash is full of HH and HB stuff now. And the other day I saw someone posted their thoughts on the show, including one specific take that it falls right back under the typical "Sinners are bad but hey, we can fix them!" sort of trope. (I really don't know if I'll be able to find the post again, if I do, I'll reblog/link it here or something).

And hey, I'm not gonna argue that it doesn't, per se. I just think there's a bit more to it than that.

c.w for general religious trauma talk, SA mentions, drug use/abuse, alcohol use, addiction, gambling, probably other things I'm not thinking of

(Also please don't feel like you have to read this. It's literally just me rambling because I haven't been able to stop thinking about this topic all fucking day, so I wrote it down to get it out of my head. Obviously if you read it and want to comment/continue the discussion, feel free. Just please. Be respectful.)

Now.

All my thoughts on HH are very much colored by my past experiences with religion, US christianity, specifically. More specifically still, the sort of christianity that makes people believe that "home schooling" their kids, isolating and indoctrinating them away from anyone who might make them question it all, is the best course of action. I grew up bouncing from church to church, from home schooling co-op to co-op, all so my bio-mom could find the exact group to echo her own sentiments back at her.

Among the things I grew up believing were great ideas such as:

Sexuality is inherently disgusting, and something you should always be forcing down/avoiding/punishing yourself about. Masturbation, porn, sex before marriage, dressing "immodestly", and any sexuality outside of heterosexual were inherently evil and worthy of punishment. Sometimes that punishment was being assaulted, because really, she should've covered up, right? Girls, sometimes girls as young as 12-13 (if not younger) were villainized for wearing tank-tops and shorts, because they were causing the boys to stumble and immodesty was a moral failing on their part.

Drugs, alcohol, substances in general, are bad and wrong and using them, or heaven forbid becoming addicted, is a moral failing on your part. You are a bad person for consuming a drug, and therefore deserve to fall into addiction, houselessness, starvation, and/or abuse.

Poor people deserve it. Accepting help of any kind is leeching off good, hard-working people. Your worth as a person is directly tied to your ability to be a "productive member of society."

Any mental health issues are your fault, and are either because you don't believe in jesus hard enough, or because you're inherently broken and sinful and therefore unsaveable. There is no room for sympathy or empathy for anyone struggling.

There's a reason these are the same stereotypical archetypes you see in this sort of show. The queer sex-addict. The gambler. The "weirdo" who isn't like other people and enjoys "weird" things, or enjoys things "too much". Even just the party-girl character. Because these aren't just stereotypes. These are actual entire groups of people who are ostracized and vilified just for being who they were born to be, for making choices christians don't like, or for being sick.

And that brings me to Angel Dust. Who, by the way, I wish I could've been given a content warning about, because holy shit Ep 4 and Addict hit me really fucking hard. My friend recommended the show to me without having watched it, so I went in not expecting that sort of storyline to punch me in the gut out of nowhere.

Anyway! Angel Dust! Literally named after a drug. A gay porn star who flirts shamelessly with anyone and everyone, who proudly shows off his best films to his friends, who secretly hates his job, not because of the sex, as we come to find out, but because he's under the thumb of a fucking psycho who treats him like shit and actively physically, sexually, and mentally/emotionally abuses him. He's basically been trafficked, and hates that he doesn't have any say in what happens to him in front of the camera. It's a horrifying position to be in, and one that left me a little shaken up, tbf.

The take I'm mostly writing this based on is that Hazbin Hotel falls into the trite tropes of "rich white girl attempts to fix people who are below her" and specifically mentioned disappointment in how Charlie didn't try to argue that Angel Dust didn't deserve hell based only on his addiction or sexual past, but that she instead claimed that she could "fix him."

And I just . . . think that's a little bit of a black/white take.

For the first part, what would people rather she do? Put all her time, effort, influence, and power into trying her damnedest to help her people, who are being slaughtered by the thousands every year just because Adam is bored? Or sit at home and use all that time, effort, influence, and power to make rubber duckies like her father? She could just ignore everything going on, call it hopeless, give up, and ignore the suffering of her people. Would that be better? Would that satisfy this weird little "she's just a rich white girl with privilege" gripe?

Charlie is a rich girl. A princess. Someone with huge amounts of privilege, power, influence, etc. But you know what? She's also stuck in hell. She was born there, through no fault or choice of her own, and because of who her parents are, she is trapped in literal hell, with no hope of ever, ever ascending to heaven. She does not get a chance at redemption, because she was born to the wrong people. She is a young woman who was born into horrifying circumstances, living in a world that she frequently expresses disgust for (her frequent discomfort with sexuality, her disgust toward the cannibals, her dislike of violence, even necessary self-defense).

And she still loves her people and wants to see the best in them.

She would be completely justified in hating everything about hell, her life, the people around her, her parents, heaven, everything, really. She has every right to hate her entire existence, but she puts all that hatred for the system into her efforts to fucking do something about it. Why is that a bad thing, just because she was born into a position of power and authority??

And now on to Angel Dust.

Charlie never once makes a judgement call about Angel or his habits, his work, or his personality. She expresses discomfort with the sexual nature of his work (tbh wouldn't be surprised if she's a sex-repulsed ace), but she does not think he's a bad person because of his work. Nor does she think that he needs to stop doing his work in order to become a better/good person. When she tries to get him some time off, she's explicitly doing it because she wants him to have time to decompress and participate in activities at the hotel, not because she wants him doing less of his specific kind of work.

She never condemns his partying, either. She has a bar in her hotel! She defends him partying, right to heaven's face, because she knows everyone present has partied, everyone has enjoyed a drink with friends. There is no condemnation of his partying activities, and I don't think she ever makes it seem as though Angel needs fixing.

What I got out of that episode, watching Charlie passionately defending her friend in front of the worst fucking person in the universe, was that people do not need to be fixed, but some love and support can help them make better choices for themselves. Angel still has a good time. He still has his job (contract, y'know, but would probably be in the industry regardless). The only thing different about that particular night of partying is that he's out with people who care about him, and who he cares about.

Even Cherri, though she expresses some joking disappointment that he's spending so much time worrying about Nifty, doesn't actually seem that put out by it. She teases him a little, but leaves him to do his thing. And his thing is making sure his friend, who is less experienced at partying (and who is significantly smaller/more vulnerable than most other people), is safe and okay. His thing is defending his friends from an extremely dangerous person, at massive risk to his own personal safety.

And he didn't do any of this because he'd been "fixed" or because he'd "changed." He did it because, for possibly the first time ever, he has people around him who love and care for him, and who want the best for him. And who he loves and wants the best for in return. He said himself that he stays out of his mind on substances, allows himself to be drugged and assaulted, puts on this persona of care-free-crack-whore-who-only-thinks-about-sex, because he is trying everything in his power to dull the pain he's in. Because he doesn't believe he deserves any better.

And this, this is what Charlie is trying to show Heaven. She is trying to show them that there is nothing morally damning about alcohol consumption, or even drug use, sex work, or anything that makes Angel who he is. She's trying to show them that, with some love, care, and support, with a safe place to call home, with their base physical and emotional needs being met, people don't need to resort to the sort of destructive behavior heaven/Adam is condemning! People can choose to engage in these behaviors safely, consciously, and with people around them who want them to be safe and have a good time.

Then we get on to the idea that this entire episode ends on. Heaven doesn't know how people get there. They don't know what it takes to be "good enough" for heaven. Sera herself admits that Adam was just "the first soul in heaven," all but admitting that he's just there because he defaulted into it. (Though that does make me wonder, what about Abel? He would have died long before Adam, and considering how long Adam lived, and that there were plenty of other people around by the time he would have died, where were all those souls going??).

And Adam is the fucking worst! He is literally the worst, most selfish, violent, vulgar soul in the entire show, but he is allowed in heaven, for reasons no one even understands.

You know what the difference is between Adam and Angel?

Adam can't be fixed.

His behaviors are all destructive, not to himself, but to others. He insults, abuses, hurts, and kills with abandon. He made this weird, shitty deal with Hell and Lucifer because he wanted to murder innocent souls, because he was bored, and the rest of heaven doesn't even know about it. He has free reign to be an absolute piece of shit to everyone around him, damaging people left and right, and he will never face any sort of justice for it, because hey, he's already in heaven!

But Angel? Angel's behavior is all self-destructive. Again. He gets fucked up to dull his immense pain. He allows himself to be drugged and assaulted because he believes he deserves it. Because he's been told, for who knows how many thousands of years, that he's a whore anyway, so why shouldn't he be free to use for anyone who wants to take him? He has been beaten down, physically, emotionally, sexually, until he's a shell of a person who is struggling to find any reason to continue his shitty existence.

And he hurts only himself.

I mean, okay, he does piss off Husk sometimes, crosses boundaries/etc. But he and Husk pretty clearly fix that between themselves. There's no lasting damage there, and idk if anyone else noticed, but he stops that behavior pretty much entirely after that ep.

Angel is hurting. He is hollow, and hopeless, and trapped. And he does not need to be fixed, nor does Charlie ever attempt to do so.

All she does is reach out a hand, and say, "Hey, I see that you're struggling. This place is fucked up, isn't it? Maybe I can help."

Charlie is a flawed person. She takes her privilege for granted. She feels the immense weight of her choices, and the pressure of having taken responsibility for a people who may never want her help. She messes up, because somehow, she's endlessly cheerful and optimistic, despite her upbringing and the world she grew up in.

Charlie is flawed. But she's trying her fucking best. She isn't trying to fix. She's trying to help.

We all need some help, every now and then, don't we?

[losojos-decupido]

slides into your inbox. hello, neuro :)

So! I was wondering what Fogado's feelings about religion and faith were.

In Pandreo's support with Vander, he says that Solm isn't a nation that particularly tends towards religion, and as far as we know, the Solmic royal heirs—unlike Firene and Brodia's heirs—don't seem to have visited Alear and the Somniel much in their youth, either. (Unless I missed something, or you have thoughts about that as well!)

But we DO know that Fogado used to frequent Pandreo's church, and even engaged in confessions with him. So, what are his feelings about faith? Does he find it as a sort of refuge?

ahh nat my good friend nat. is that a baseball bat behind your back

i do not think that fogado is very religious. in fact, he might not subscribe to it at all; everyone is free to believe in what they choose, but fogado only has himself to believe in, full stop.

because, like, if there is a god, and everyone loves them for how kind they are, why is it that war still happens and innocent people die? why is it that solm has to stay so low to the ground so that they can keep their people away from bloodshed? so that fogado's own sister can live past twenty-five, and so that the nightmares of his family being brutally murdered stay only nightmares?

focusing on the point about not visiting the divine dragon, i do 100% think they hardly ever visited them during their sleep. calling back to when the party first meets fogado, he intentionally obfuscates his identity as a prince and is successful because nobody knows what he looks like. he's able to lead the divine dragon, the prince of firene, and the prince of brodia around in circles until he can gauge their danger because of how solm operates.

on top of this, seforia acts like a carefree ditz and "misplaces" ike's ring "in her doodad drawer" because she doesn't want to give away the location so soon. And People Believe Her Because They Have No Reference Point. the solmic royal lineage builds their outside reputations off of deceit. that way, if something DOES happen, they can take their enemies by surprise.

all of this is to say that, for identity reasons ( as well as general agnosticism ), the solmic royals hardly ever went to meet the divine dragon. hence, as far as fogado is concerned, he doesn't care and doesn't feel a drive to care.

i think he visited pandreo's church a lot as part of his " wandering. " multiple sources stress how often fogado wasn't in the castle, as most of his time was spent Being Free And Stuff around the country. sure, it was a coverup for intel. but he still was going around everywhere. as part of his adventures to both get the lay of the land and understand more about solmic ways of life, fogado went to the church and listened to pandreo's sermons. i think he took a shining to pandreo because he's fun-loving and a party animal but ALSO is deeply religious and stays true to himself and his beliefs. fogado respects that a lot.

religion is something fogado doesn't really care for nor understand ( why put faith in something you can't see when you can just do it yourself? ), but the passion pandreo has for it is infectious. i think fogado likes to listen to what pandreo talks about, because even if religion isn't something he subscribes to, you can still learn a lot about people from it.

i also think fogado finds comfort in confessions like anyone else does. the person he sins against is himself; he feels things his father taught him he shouldn't feel, and he wants to do things that don't fit into his role as the silent protector. also, he's really freaking young, and if i went through half the shit he goes through on a daily basis, i'd need more than a confessional booth to keep me sane. pandreo offers solace, and that's not something fogado allows himself to seek out. but when it's placed in front of him---not forced, more in a "take it if you need it" sense---it gives fogado the agency of deciding for himself whether he wants it or not. if he doesn't, well, his lies can't get past pandreo... but he'll just wait until fogado is ready.

all in all, though fogado isn't religious himself, the way that pandreo exercises his religion, through practices and beliefs, is unique in that even non-religious people can be comforted by it. it offers him shelter when he needs it, and sometimes that's all a wanderer needs

[batim-artists-rewrite-au]

"Welcome to Joey Drew Studios!"

First of all, there are some BIG TWs!!! Being: Violence, past Trauma, HEAVY GORE(Later on), Mental health themes(some of the characters are HEAVILY traumatized), Mentions of religion(Sammy fucking existing.), NSFW stuff (gore, heavy language, sexual, ect.) Horror themes(But that's later down the line), past/implied abuse, religious trauma(Again, SAMMY), bad parenting, torture(Most of the stuff past this point is later down the line), mistreatment of others, stalking, obsession, near death experiences, murder, visual horror on some sprites, torture mentions, heavy grief in some characters, mentions of stuff like implied alcoholism, parent death mention, and death.

RULES:

-NO MINORS. THIS IS FOR MOD HUNTER'S COMFORT AND THERE’S SHIT THAT KIDS SHOULD NOT BE SEEING. THIS IS A 17+ BLOG.

-Don't throw a hissy fit if a character is rude to you.

-Some characters here are straight. Some are gay. Fucking deal with it, don't throw a hissy fit about it.

-Be patient with ships! They may not appear at first, but they will appear in due time! <3

-Please don’t try to introduce characters into the universe. The characters may recognize your username if it comes up a lot, but otherwise, all asks will be just “messages” for them.

-DO NOT FORCE SHIPS. SOME SHIPS EXIST, OTHERS DON’T, SUCK IT UP, BUTTERCUP.

-If you want us to tag something a certain way, DM us and we will try our hardest. DO NOT ABUSE THIS.

- This is an AU, so this is OUR TAKE on a story in the Bendy and the ink machine universe, Please respect this.

- Also! If a character is dead, they’re DEAD. What we say about a character’s mortality goes.

-This is a mature story. It'll contain mature topics. Read the trigger warnings and read accordingly.

-This features OCs. Don't like, don't read. Thanks.

-This heavily features OC x Canon. Don't like, fuck off. Cope, seethe.

-NO TRANSPHOBIA, APHOBIA, OR LGBTQIA+ PHOBIA IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM.

-IF YOU'RE A RECURRING ASKER, PLEASE NAME YOURSELF. IT HELPS MOD HUNTER BE ABLE TO KEEP TRACK OF PEOPLE. 

- There are 2 mods, one of those mods doesn't take people's shit, and will act rude to you if provoked, you have been warned. 

- This was made out of the Mods' love for this series, don’t ruin it for us, thanks.

-Follow the rules. Please, for the love of God, follow the rules. 

-THIS HAS BEEN IN THE WORKS FOR SEVEN+ YEARS-ISH ON AND OFF. BE FUCKING RESPECTFUL, HOLY SHIT.

-DO NOT BE UPSET WHEN A CHARACTER REACTS POORLY WHEN YOU PROD THEM TOO MUCH. USE COMMON SENSE.

-SOME CHARACTERS ARE MORALLY GRAY. CHARACTERS/PEOPLE ARE COMPLEX. DEAL WITH IT.

-Some sessions focus on some characters more than others. You can still ask others stuff, but the ones who are the main focus will be priority.

-Will add as needed.

Love Mod Bee and Mod Hunter

EXTRA: Main blogs are: 

Bee's: @horror-beeings-artandwriting

Hunter's: @hunter-the-sad-skeleton

Mod pronouns:

Bee: She/her (co owner)

Hunter: He/him (MAIN OWNER)

[atranswomansdiary]

Day 156

November 8, 2020

“Dies ist der Morgen danach Und meine Seele liegt brach Dies ist der Morgen danach Ein neuer Tag beginnt Und meine Zeit verrint”

So, yeah: it is the morning after.

Things went well, I guess? Not as I expected at all but, in retrospect, I don’t know what the fuck was I thinking about when I imagined things going, let’s put it this way, “smoothly” when it is about things that concern me.

First things first: of course that one of my siblings forgot what I had asked and fucking missed the family meeting! She was kind of apologetic, saying that she really, absolutely had to meet with her boyfriend this very day, but it was still a shitty thing to do, in my opinion. If someone who never does so asks you, explicitly and ahead of time, to please be present for something, I think the least you can do is either commit to it or say outright that you won’t be there. I imagine that she didn’t want to be there because she didn’t want to be part of the family drama? I don’t know and, to be honest, I don’t think it really matters. I don’t think her presence would’ve changed the outcome or the others' reactions.

When I found out about them not being there, I had to make a decision. Either I canceled the whole thing or I moved forward. I decided to be respectful to my other sisters (and to my parents) and just go ahead with the thing.

We ate some lunch, had some chit-chat, and then the time came for me to open up and tell them the reason for the family meeting. Instead of going for some kind of preface or explanation, I chose to go for the Aristotelian line of reasoning. In other words: I started with the conclusion.

So I told them what I had told my (remaining and former) friends: “I’m considering transitioning”.

Let’s start with the positive stuff. My younger sister’s reaction was almost everything I could have hoped for. She asked me the usual questions—”Are you sure? Have you considered whether you're just gay?” Etc.—and, once I reassured them that yes, I was sure of at least considering the possibility, she seemed to be onboard. No drama there—at least not for now.

Speaking of drama: my dad cried. Like a lot. And he never cries. It shocked me and it really threw me off, but it was at least an emotional reaction, and he said it was because he was imagining my suffering. Of course I cried during this part as well. And if that had been all, if this was the full report, I’d say that it went OK. Could’ve been better, but it could’ve been way worse too.

And then we come to the subject of my mom.

Being completely transparent here, this was the reaction that matter to me the most. Not because I love her more than my dad or my sisters, but because she’s the one I have the closest relationship with. We talk almost every day over the phone and we have long conversations. She genuinely cares for me and my well-being, and does everything in her power to help me. She sends me frozen meals cooked by her, she washes my clothes (and sometimes irons them, against my protestations), and is all around just there for me, you know?

And she’s also, in her own words, a Roman Catholic. And a traditionalist and all around conservative. She’s the type of person that complains that life was better before… And she actually means it. She’s not a homophobe, but seeing two homosexuals displaying any signs of affection makes her squirm. She doesn’t practice her religion much… But you wouldn’t know it by listening to her. She is, all in all, a proper baby boomer with a pension that’s a misery but who still thinks that capitalism and our overall system are as good as it's ever going to get.

So now you understand why her reaction was so important to me—and why I dreaded it so much.

I was thinking the other day, trying to see if my memories could help me foresee her reaction… And the results were not great.

I remember two instances where she and I didn’t agree on important issues and it became a problem. The first was about religion—of course! We had many arguments back in the day, when I was young and stupid (I’m no longer young, thank you very much). At one point, it got so bad that I used to either work all weekend or escape to my grandparents’ or a friend’s house in order to avoid arguing with her.

The second time I recall was the time when I told her that I had decided to study philosophy once I was finished with high school. I don’t know why, but she lost it. This time we didn’t argue so much as she just stopped talking to me and looked at me like I had a disease or something for days.

In both instances, things only got better when I gave in. I just stopped saying out loud what I though about religion at home. I kept my ideas in general to myself and to whoever wanted to listen to me. And I didn’t study philosophy after high school.

Come to think of it, there’s another very important thing my mom and I have never agreed upon… And this is the only instance I can think of in which I’ve gone directly against her wishes. My mom doesn’t really like that I’m a writer. She never has. She never asks about it, nor has she never expressed any words of support for me regarding it. In fact, she always asks, “when are you going to get a real job?” whenever she can. And I’ve been pretty serious about writing (at least as much as an asshole like me can be about anything) for the past… Decade? Whoa! Times flies away indeed.

And yet, in spite of her lack of support and constant sabotage, I haven’t given in. And every time she’s been happy because I got a “real job” in the past ten years, for one reason or another, I’ve felt myself dying a little inside.

You can tell I’m delaying the inevitable, can’t you?

So, what happened? Nothing awful. At least not dramatically awful or anything like that. She didn’t disavow of me or ask me to leave, no. She just stood there, by my side, looking straight ahead (and perhaps avoiding looking at me?) and didn’t say a single thing. Not one word came out of her mouth. She didn’t cry like my dad nor asked questions like my sister. She just stood there, stone-faced and seemingly in shock. She said something about it being “my life” and “my business” (or something to that effect) and then avoid talking about it for the rest of the evening.

A part of me wants to believe that she’ll change her attitude regarding this, that maybe one day she’ll say that it’s OK, that she loves me and she’ll embrace me and say something like “I love you just the way you are. I always have and I always will.” Yeah, well, I didn’t say that I was a good writer.

Another part of me, the more cynical or realistic one, tells me that no, that this is it. That I have to continue forward and make my decision—whether to transition or not—regardless of my mom’s support… Or lack thereof. That a decision as important as this one can only be made from my center, from whatever makes me me. That it cannot depend on external approval of any kind, my mom’s included.

So here I am, the morning after, wondering whether this’ll be like religion or me studying philosophy… Or like being a writer. This is perhaps the greatest, cruelest test to my incipient transness. Will I go forward or will I go back? Can I? Today, I don’t know. Maybe tomorrow. Definitely, one day, I hope I will know for sure.

Until then, with love,

ZZ