#also also this isn’t to say the Felicia doesn’t get watered down too because she does. they treat her so bad | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spiderman-homecomeme · 4 years ago

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nuts about you

It’s simple. Thirty days. All of November. No nutting allowed. Can Peter survive? A friends/roommates to lovers tale of stupid bets, sabotage, and most important of all, nuts.

thotumn. day 11. free prompt day finale.

Thank you @spideysmjs for organizing this magical month for us!! Because I am TOO impatient, I’m posting this a day early (also to keep my tradition of not posting things at the right time). Enjoy this purely goofy adventure.

Of all of the stupid ideas Peter and Ned have thought of in their ten-plus years of friendship, this one’s up there.

Easily in the top three.

No, it’s more than stupid. It’s ridiculous. It’s pointless. No one in their right mind actually thinks this is a good idea or that there’s any reason to do it. It’s an internet joke that’s too old, a meme that has no right being funny anymore. It’s run its course, and the guise of it raising awareness for anything other than the masturbation habits of penis-havers is complete and utter bullshit.

Again. It’s stupid.

Still, Peter Parker is not one to turn down a challenge, no matter how stupid. He’s nothing if not competitive. What can he say? If he won’t do it, who will?

This is what he considers as Ned lays it on the table for him.

All of November. Thirty days.

Peter doesn’t know how the conversation even started or how they ended up betting against each other in the world’s most moronic challenge. All he knows is that Ned is more than convinced that Peter is weak and won’t last. In fact, he’s so convinced that he’s willing to bet money on it. His reasoning ends up being that Peter isn’t strong enough.

And Peter? Well, he’s convinced that he will make it, that he can survive an entire month without giving in to his desires to bust a nut, to beat his meat, etc. etc. And he, too, is willing to bet money—a stupid amount, maybe more than a hundred—on his own success and his friend’s failure. He doesn’t want to appear too cocky, but he’s more than a hundred percent sure he’s got this in the bag. Yeah, it’s thirty days of cutting out one of Peter’s favorite pastimes—if not the favorite—but there’s no doubt in his mind that he’s more than capable of practicing a little restraint.

Still, confident as he is, there’s still that part of him that can’t help but dread the coming month the more and more he thinks about it.

“So, definitely thirty days?” Peter asks, eyes narrowing in thought. He tries to appear casual, as if the idea of no release for that amount of time isn’t a big deal. It’s more for clarification. “November has thirty days?”

Ned scoffs. “Yeah. Thirty days.”

“Any strikes? Any free coupons?”

“Nope.” Ned shakes his head with a soul-crushing finality. “Why? You don’t think you can make it?”

It’s Peter’s turn to scoff, face scrunching dramatically as he recoils. “What? No. I’m worried about you, man. What are you gonna do about Betty?”

Ned fixes him with a deadpan stare, clearly not buying whatever bullshit Peter’s trying to peddle. “A bet is a bet. She will respect that.”

“How can I trust you, though?” Peter asks, eyes narrowing in slight accusation. “You’re always at her place. I mean, how’ll I know you’re not lying?”

Ned glares. “How can I trust you?”

Peter sputters, desperately thinking of ways to throw a reverse Uno at this situation. “Wha—I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m—I’m single, man.”

Ned blinks. Once. Twice. “Do we need to talk about Felicia?”

“That was—”

“Cindy?”

“Dude—”

“Johnny? Jessica? Gwen—”

“I get it. I get it—”

“Carlie? Oh—Debbie? Caleb! Then there was Angela—”

Peter’s expression contorts into one of confusion. “Angela?” He tilts his head, squinting, searching for any kind of memory.

“Cute red head. You met her in line at Aldi.”

“Ahhh…” A knowing, borderline too-telling smile of recognition pulls at Peter’s lips. “Angela...” he sighs, almost dreamily. Okay, so maybe Ned has a point. But just because Peter enjoys the company of other people so much that he’s got his own version of Mambo No. 5, doesn’t mean he’s incapable of living without the warm touch of another human being or his hand.

Peter freezes, glancing at his friend. “Okay. Well. What do you want me to do about that? It’s not like I’m gonna call any of them up or anything. I have some sense of self-control.”

Again, Ned blinks.

“And besides, Felicia was freshman year… she’s our friend now. I don’t hook-up with her anymore.”

Another blink. “Dude.”

“Fine.” Peter huffs, whipping his phone out, eyes nearly rolling out of their sockets and onto the floor as he starts swiping through his contacts. “But I’m not deleting any of ‘em, okay?”

“Peter…”

“I’ll change their names! How ‘bout that?”

A beat passes of silent, overtly-judgmental staring on Ned’s part. He huffs after another second, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Fine.” Then, his frown shifts into a nonchalant smirk. “Whatever makes it easier for you to lose and me to win.”

“Please,” Peter scoffs. “I’m not the one with a girlfriend. You’re going down.” He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes, lips pursed in mock-contemplation as he points a finger. “Or I guess… Betty’s the one going down.”

Ned nearly chokes on his water holding back a snort. “Come on, man.”

Peter shrugs.

“Okay, well, are you gonna change the contact name for your right hand, too?”

It’s Peter’s turn to spit out a laugh.

But before he can even come up with another totally awesome comeback, he hears the jingling of keys, the clanking of locks as their roommate comes home after a long day of classes. All he sees is a flash of her curly hair before he’s tearing his gaze away from the front door, suddenly finding the pads of his thumbs to be pretty damn interesting.

“Hey, MJ,” Ned greets casually, as if they weren’t just sorting out a bet where neither of them are allowed to orgasm for an entire month.

“‘Sup.” Michelle flashes them a brief, closed-mouth grin as she makes for the refrigerator, swiping up some baby carrots and the brita filter.

Really, the conversation from earlier should be done there. Nothing else needs to be said. Especially not in front of their roommate.

But Peter can’t help himself.

“Let’s shake on it,” he says, putting his hand out, knowing that the more he keeps talking, the more danger he’s in of saying too much.

Ned takes it readily, eyes narrowed in determination. “Let’s.”

The corner of Peter’s lip twitches upward, but he holds it back. “No… Peanuts.”

“No walnuts.”

They have that understanding, speaking in the code that the two of them have just made up on the spot, something that Peter can’t help but feel pretty damn proud of.

MJ glances between the two, carrot half-way to her mouth, frozen in place, brows pinched in suspicion.

“Peter and I are giving up all nuts for the next month,” Ned says proudly, answering the question that she most certainly did not ask.

“Cool.”

Ned throws a not-as-subtle-as-he-thinks-it-is wink across the table, giving a just as subtle thumbs up from behind one of his stray history books.

Peter nods.

“Why?” Michelle asks, her question—one that shouldn’t have been as much of a surprise at is was—causing them both to exchange wary glances.

There’s a silence that follows, one that might clearly show that these two guys have no idea what kind of hole they’ve dug themselves into. Ned watches Peter expectantly. Peter glares back.

“Is it like a health thing?” MJ offers, popping another carrot into her mouth.

Peter nods a little too quickly. “Yeah. Health stuff.” His stomach flips when her gaze meets his, her eyes squinting as she chews thoughtfully.

“May thinks Peter might have a nut allergy,” Ned hastily spits out. When both sets of eyes land on him, he laughs. “So his allergist suggested going a month without ‘em. To see if that makes it better.”

And honestly, Peter thinks that’s a pretty damn good save.

The best part is that MJ seems to buy it. She nods. “So why are you doing it, Ned?”

“Solidarity,” Ned offers quickly.

Nice save.

“Ah,” MJ purses her lips, though she still doesn’t seem to care all that much. “Well, good luck. I guess. I know how much you guys… love… nuts? I guess?”

Peter nods solemnly.

When she turns back to grab a cup from the cabinet, he throws Ned a quick single nod.

Well played.

“So, Peter’s doing no nut November.”

Felicia nearly chokes, snorting as she struggles to keep her vanilla latte in her mouth. “What?” She asks after a dangerous second. They were supposed to be having a nice study sesh, reading about Bloom’s taxonomy, not talking about Peter’s nut habits.

“He and Ned made a stupid bet to see who could last the whole month,” MJ answers, taking a quiet sip of her London Fog. “Apparently they bet a lot of money on it.”

Felicia’s face scrunches in amused confusion. “Why?”

“Do they really need a reason to do dumb shit?”

Considering that for a second, Felicia nods with a satisfied frown. “Fair.”

“I bet against Peter, though,” MJ continues. “After he left, I made Ned let me in on it. There’s no way Pete can last the whole month, right? Not even a week.”

“Oh, definitely not,” Felicia vehemently shook her head. “I honestly feel like he’d spontaneously combust after, like, a day.” Then, she lets out a quiet snort. “Combust a nut.”

Michelle wrinkles her nose. “Ew.”

“But for real. He’s not gonna make it.”

“That’s what I said. Ned seems to have some faith in him though—no idea why. I told him that Peter wouldn’t even last a week… and now I guess I’m involved.”

“This would be so easy to sabotage though.”

“Right?”

“Seriously,” Felicia snorts. “All I’d have to do is hit him up one more time and he’s gone.” And then, in that next instant, her face lights up like a Christmas tree. “That’s it!” Before she says anything else, she’s pulling her phone out, quickly scrolling through, looking for God knows what. “Girl, I am gonna win that bet for you.”

MJ leans forward, curious, yet still cautious. She’s not sure if Peter hooking up again with Felicia is the best idea, given that relations within the friend group would just make things a giant, tangled up mess of complicated awkwardness. “How?” Michelle dares to ask, craning her neck to see what the hell Felicia’s doing on her phone.

Her friend is quiet for a moment, locked in concentration on her screen, bottom lip tucked between her teeth, brows knit together. Then, she cracks a satisfied, sly smile, turning her phone to show MJ just what she was looking for.

Simply; a picture of Felicia’s relatively new tattoo which, in and of itself, doesn’t seem like it would get Peter’s peter going. It’s pretty. Floral. Nothing to lose one’s mind over.

No, it’s more the placement.

It’s a tasteful shot, the simple flowers lining the underside of her breasts, her hands acting as makeshift pasties, just barely covering her nipples.

Still, though there’s no actual nudity, it’s enough to make MJ’s eyes bug out of her head for a moment before she’s realizing what she’s looking at.

“Okay. So?” Michelle waits for an explanation.

“I send him this,” Felicia says simply, pulling her phone back and (seemingly) drafting up the very message. “Ask if he wants a closer look at it.”

Michelle considers it a moment, knowing that there’s a very strong chance that Peter could almost immediately fall into such an obvious trap. The corners of her lips twitch into a casual frown. She shrugs. “Honestly. Yeah. That might work.”

“Might?” Felicia almost scoffs.

“You’re a genius.”

A smirk tugs at Felicia’s mouth as she leans back in her chair, swiping up to send the message before putting the phone down on the table. “I know.”

They sit in silence, the two of them watching the screen with bated breath. They both gasp when the read receipt pops up, followed by a dead silence. MJ can only imagine how stressed that boy must be, opening his phone, thinking it’s an innocent text from Felicia, then BAM, he’s vibe-checked by her boobs instead.

She holds back a snort, her stomach jumping into her throat seeing the dot-dot-dot pop up at the bottom of the screen. It’s almost as if she forgets to breathe, waiting to see what he’s going to say to such a blatant come on.

It’s like he’s typing a damn novel with how long it’s taking him though, and Michelle’s not sure she can take it much longer.

And then, her phone dings.

Felicia’s lips pull into a frown reading the message. “‘Wow. Looks cool! No thanks, though.’ Aaaaand,” she spins her phone for MJ to read it. “Thumbs-up emoji. Smiley face with sunglasses.”

Even MJ’s surprised at that response. Maybe Peter is really taking this No Nut November thing seriously. Maybe he’s not as weak as she thought. But… it doesn’t make any sense. Nothing’s adding up.

And with this confusion, there’s a sense of relief, knowing his response. Waiting wasn’t fun.

“Huh.” Felicia sighs, biting her lip in thought as she starts typing out another message and sending it.

“What did you say?” Michelle asks.

“I told him I’d been thinking about getting my nipples pierced and wanted to know what he thought.”

At that, Michelle snorts. “You’re an evil woman.”

Felicia shrugs innocently. “I think he’d really like ‘em.”

Truly, it’s a genius move. It’s something that Peter has to address; Felicia’s nipples. The idea of them being pierced. It’s too much for his brain to handle.

And again, just like before, they get into a staring contest with the conversation, watching as the read receipt pops up again, immediately followed by the ever-cruel ellipses as Peter no doubt struggles with a response that’s not too-eager.

But then, he completely throws them for another loop.

“‘I support you, friend!’ with…” Her eyes narrow. “A smiley face.”

“Wow,” Michelle says, genuinely surprised.

And Felicia seems just as shocked, if not a little offended that one of her oldest tricks in the book seem to have no effect whatsoever. “Did he just… friendzone me?” She asks, absolutely appalled.

“You were already friends before?” Michelle laughs.

“But in this context?” She huffs, shaking her head. A beat passes where all she does is stare at her phone. “That’s weird,” she says slowly, lips quirking into a confused frown. “Huh.”

“There, there,” Michelle deadpans, patting her friend stiffly on the hand.

Felicia laughs. “It’s fine…” She draws out. “A hit to the ego is good for me every once in a while.”

“Oh my God,” MJ rolls her eyes. “You’re still hot. Don’t worry.”

With a sad, a little over-dramatic nod, Felicia’s frown deepens as she pretends to wipe at her eyes. “Yeah. I am.”

“I can’t believe that didn’t work,” MJ muses. Really, she can’t. Peter’s perhaps the easiest person she knows—and there’s nothing wrong with that at all; it’s just a fact of life. The sky is blue. Grass is green. Peter is a thot.

“I guess he’s really following through with this whole no nut thing…” Felicia’s brow furrows as she recoils. “How much money did he bet anyway?”

“A hundred.”

“Oh my God.”

“Yeah.”

“How much did you put in?”

“...A hundred.”

“MJ!”

“Listen!” Michelle reasons, holding her hands up in defense. “This is gonna be the easiest two hundred dollars I’ve ever made.”

Felicia sits back, clearly impressed. “Does Peter know you’re in on it?”

“Nope,” MJ says, emphasizing the ‘p’ with an audible pop.

“Well—” Felicia starts, shifting in her seat, crossing one leg over the other. “—I’m sure you’ll find some way to make that boy give in. Sorry I couldn’t help.”

Michelle lets out a light snort. “It’s okay. You tried.”

“If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know.”

But honestly, MJ already has a vague idea of what her next step is.

And it brings her to his bedroom, to his desk, messing with his laptop while he’s out for his Sunday patrol. His password is entirely too easy to guess—really, you’d think a guy as smart as Peter would have something a little more complicated than “webshooter69.”

If there’s anything she knows about Peter—maybe a little too much about her friend—is that while he mostly enjoys the company of a flesh and blood human being, he’s not above the occasional perusing of adult websites.

The guy likes porn.

The plan is to make his chrome homepage one of his regular sites. Confront him with the images that really get him going.

She browses through his history, hoping that he hadn’t thought to delete everything or go incognito. And… luckily for her, that particular idea seemed to have slipped his mind entirely. Literally not even a week out and she’s found a slightly-more-than-nefarious-looking website.

Easy enough.

And it’s exactly what she’s looking for. Nudity galore. There doesn’t seem to be a corner of the site that doesn’t have a boob or a butt. It is truly Peter’s domain.

For a moment, she wonders if she should make the homepage specifically something he searches for… his favorite genre perhaps.

She shakes the thought away immediately. It’s too invasive. Besides, the front page should be more than enough—there’s literally a video that frustratingly autoplays every time she goes back to that one page. And why would she need to know what Peter likes? There’s no reason for that. At all.

Making sure to close out of everything before logging out, she slams the laptop shut, sprinting out of his room as if he was just about to get home. Her heart races as she slams her own bedroom door behind her, catching her breath proving to be more difficult than usual.

And now, she waits.

It turns out, she doesn’t have to wait very long.

That evening, in fact, after Peter’s come back for dinner.

He takes his time microwaving his leftovers from the day before, whistling to himself as he bounces around the kitchen. The whole time it feels like MJ’s just holding her breath, anticipating his early demise the instant he opens up chrome on his laptop. And honestly, this does feel like a low blow, like she’s just snatching up that low-hanging fruit—God, MJ, phrasing—but then she’s reminded that this, again, is the easiest two hundred dollars she will ever earn.

And then she feels a little less bad about what she’s done.

The second he’s finished with his food and disappears into his room, her eyes are on his door, and then it occurs to her that there’s not really a way that she can know he’s, well, “lost.” It’s all based on his own honor, if he’ll admit to succumbing to his most basic need. She likes to think that he would, though. Peter’s too much of a good, honest guy—hiding his secret identity aside—that he couldn’t lie to his friends about it.

Ned comes home not two minutes later, deflating on the other side of the couch.

“Rough day?” MJ asks, the teasing hint to her tone not going unnoticed.

Ned rolls his eyes. “Told Betty I was doing this whole month thing.”

MJ winced. “Yikes.”

“Yeah,” Ned chuckles.

“Well, if it helps, this whole thing is probably gonna end in—” she checks her phone. “—five or so minutes.”

Ned’s gaze darts right and left. “What… What do you mean?”

Before she can answer, Peter yelps from the other side of his door. There’s a loud crash that sounds suspiciously like a laptop being yeeted across the room in a hasty, knee-jerk reaction. Before either she or Ned can move, Peter’s bursting through his door, eyes blown wide, his face drained of all color, and he’s frozen in place, one hand gripping the doorframe.

And it takes everything in her not to grin. “Everything okay?”

Peter coughs, scratching the back of his neck, before his gaze lands on Ned in a challenging glare. “DUDE. Not cool.”

Poor Ned looks as confused as ever, his jaw dropping, brows pinching together as he glances between the two. “I—What—what are you talking about?”

Peter narrows his eyes even more.

“Did I hear something break?” MJ asks carefully, as not to seem too suspicious.

He startles at her voice, sputtering out a response that mostly sounds like the macaroni glue art of sentences. “Oh—uh—no. It—It was the—the laptop. There was—a thing. And—I just kinda—threw it.” He laughs nervously. “It’s fine though. Not—not broken. All good—” He throws some finger guns. “—in the hood.”

Her lips twist as she nods.

Peter nods back, hands in his back pockets as he starts to retreat back into his room—though not before throwing another I’m watching you glare at Ned.

As soon as the door clicks shut, Ned’s in full interrogation mode.

“MJ, what did you do?”

She shrugs, toying with the loose thread of her hoodie. “Nothing much. Just… Set his default homepage to some porn. No biggie.”

Ned’s jaw drops, thoroughly scandalized, but there’s a hint of amusement behind his eyes. “Dude… That’s evil.”

Michelle gives another shrug.

So, her second plan had failed. Even after surprise-porn, Peter’s still in the running. He’s still holding out. Almost a two days into November, and he is surviving, a surprise to everyone involved, and already, MJ’s running out of ideas. Well, good—plausible ideas. There are plenty of ways she’s sure she could compromise him. Take him to a strip-club maybe, but there’s not a doubt in her mind that he’d be able to pick up on what she was doing. There’s no way he’d fall for it.

Hiring an escort was definitely out of the question.

Theoretically, both of those could work. Were they good plans? No. Absolutely not.

He’s already turned down a previous hook-up. He broke his laptop out of the sheer panic that seeing porn brought him.

There doesn’t seem to be much more that she can do.

It’s not until the next day, as she’s walking the clothing section of Target with Felicia that she’s struck with an idea.

Felicia specifically striking her with said idea.

They’re in the middle of the sleepwear section, MJ mindlessly rifling through the fuzzy sock bin, when she nearly collides with the underwear display. She’s distracted for a moment, wondering if it’s too soon since she’s bought new underwear to justify taking advantage of the sale, when Felicia nudges her with her elbow.

“Peter’s really into pretty underwear,” she says as if they’re not in the middle of Target. As if there’s not a mom and two kids in the actual pajama section two displays over.

Michelle recoils slightly, startled. “What?”

“He’s like, really into it,” she says, taking a casual sip of her iced coffee, reaching over to pick up a particularly lacy number. “Just saying. Might be useful.”

For some reason, MJ feels a strange heat rise to her cheeks. “I’m not gonna put these on for him!”

Felicia smirks, holding a hand up in defense. “Who said anything about you wearing it? You can just… leave it lying around for him to find, or something.” She tilts her head to the side, both brows raising. “Jeez, MJ.”

“Oh…” Michelle says, though her face still burns. “Right.”

It’s not a bad idea. In fact, it’s pretty good. If Peter’s as into fancy underwear as Felicia says he is, then maybe leaving them around like some kind of weird scavenger hunt is the best plan. She doesn’t buy much, picking a pair of relatively cheap lace and polyester. She could use her own underwear for this, but… that would be weird right?

(As if this isn’t weird enough already.)

And besides, the ones she’s buying are a little more extra in that department. They aren’t meant to be worn for long, not from comfort.

They’re perfect.

She feels like some kind of underwear fairy, planting them somewhere in the apartment, making sure they’re hidden, yet visible in a place that Peter frequents; it sticks up between the couch cushions, not subtle in the slightest. The second Peter’s butt hits that couch, he’ll see them. There’s no other way around it.

It becomes another waiting game as she sits in the living chair, knees curled into her chest as she pretends to read quietly. It’s pretend because she can’t focus long enough on any single letter to let her brain absorb anything on the pages. Finally, the front door opens. Peter greets her with a cheery smile, making immediately for the kitchen.

Good. Yes. He gets his after class snack. Important.

Just as she’d planned.

He emerges not two minutes later, bag of cheese crackers in hand as he launches himself over the back of the couch. “‘Sup?” he asks after shoving a mouthful of Cheez-its into his face.

Michelle wrinkles her nose, her eyes unconsciously darting between the guy on the couch and the panties peeking out from the cushions. “Reading,” she offers, brandishing the very unread book.

Peter nods, tearing his gaze from hers after a beat and reaching for the remote. When he sits back, his hand brushes the cheap lace and he pauses, curious as he looks down to see what he touched.

All of this while MJ desperately pretends not to notice.

When he picks the pair up though, his brows pinch together, at first unsure as to what he’s actually looking at. “Uh…”

At that, MJ looks up, seeing right as the realization sets in.

Of course, she plays dumb—by staying silent.

Peter quickly looks to her, eyes wide as if he’s seen a ghost. “It’s—it’s not—these aren’t—” His lips press together as he forces a breath through his nose. “I—Oh god—”

And then, for a split-second, she feels the slightest bit guilty. Is this actually a good plan or is she just tricking him into getting a boner over cheap department store undies? That, and is she technically lying to him by not claiming the offending undergarments? By making him freak out over nothing?

He seems to be having some sort of existential crisis, wondering if these really are from some recent hook-up and the psychological effect of not nutting in three days has caused him to forget.

This was a terrible idea.

She has to put him out of his misery.

“Oh, shit. Those—” Her laugh is breathy, short. “—Those are mine.”

And instantly, Peter drops the thong, as if his hands had been burned. “Oh!” he coughs, his gaze straining as if he’s trying to keep his eyes on her face. “S—Sorry.” He swallows.

“Yeah.” Rising on legs that are shaky—from sitting so oddly in the chair for so long—she goes to snatch up the baby pink lace, clutching it behind her back before Peter can get another look. “Sorry. Must’ve forgot. Uh, when I did… Laundry.”

Peter nods, breathing out a chuckle. “Yeah. Yeah. S’fine.” He waves her off, scratching the back of his neck.

But even after that, Peter still seems off. For some reason, he still doesn’t seem to be able to look at her for more than a split-second. He doesn’t say anything else, sitting in silence, his cheese crackers long forgotten on the coffee table.

Michelle wonders if she should say something else. Break the tension. It’s awkward, obviously, because he feels weird about touching his friend’s underwear. Anyone would, really. He touched something that theoretically would be on her body; something that normally, he thinks is really sexy, or whatever.

After another minute of some good old soul-crushing silence, Peter stands, excusing himself to his room without another word.

Huh. Weird.

It’s the movie night that finally gives her that clarity she’s been looking for; that moment where everything clicks into place, and she can finally see how she’s going to win this.

Ned’s out with Betty, leaving her and Peter alone not for the first time.

She and Peter are sitting on the couch together, her head resting on his shoulder—because that’s what friends do, obviously—the two of them sharing a gray fuzzy blanket. This is a normal occurrence. They’re close enough in their friendship that some occasional cuddling isn’t too weird. Especially given how chilly it’s been lately. And, it’s comfy. Just some nice head-to-shoulder contact.

But later in the movie, when MJ starts to get dangerously sleepy, feeling herself drooping further and further, unable to completely pull herself back to reality. Things are fuzzy, almost dreamlike, as she just pulls herself up from his shoulder, giving up entirely on watching the movie and just grumpily laying down right on his lap, his thigh her make-shift pillow.

This isn’t weird.

It’s normal.

She’s sleepy.

And Peter’s a surprisingly comfy pillow.

Peter doesn’t even have time to ask what she’s doing before she’s just nestling further into his lap. She misses the pure dread and panic that flashes across his face when her head lines up with his head. There’s no safety here. Just a few wrong movements, and she’ll definitely know what’s up. She’ll be an unwitting tourist to Boner City, population: one.

Peter has to do something. He can’t let this continue. Having his best friends head just straight up on his crotch is not helpful in the slightest.

“MJ,” he gently nudges her, grimacing slightly when she just burrows further into him.

He nudges her again, and she grumbles, finally opening her eyes and looking up at him. She puts a hand on his thigh to steady herself.

Peter swallows.

“What?” She asks, not opening her eyes.

“I uh—” Peter can’t seem to speak, trying desperately to come up with some excuse as to why he has to get the fuck out of there. “—I gotta pee.”

She cracks an eye open skeptically. “But I’m comfy,” she emphasizes her point by—once again—snuggling her face into his lap.

Peter’s about to lose his damn mind.

In MJ’s defense, this had started with the best intentions. She truly was just wanting to lay down and sleep on her friends lap—again, a perfectly normal thing—but now… even through the haze of sleep, she’s seeing how much this is effecting him.

It hadn’t occurred to her until now, that she could be the one that makes him “crack.” They’re just friends. Sure, she thinks he’s attractive, and yeah, maybe she’s had the one or two or three sexy dreams about him before (even some soft, fluffy ones), but that doesn’t mean she thinks about him in that way.

He's just Peter.

Sweet, adorable, kinda hot Peter.

Again, she doesn't think about him that way.

But she supposes it makes sense. Really, she should have known before putting her head on his crotch that he might get a little flustered from the proximity, that it might remind him of certain things. It's just the body's physiological reaction to a stimulus; the stimulus being her head. It's simple science.

So then, it would also only make sense for her to take advantage of that physiological response she's able to get out of him. Maybe not right at this second, given she's been a little blindsided by this whole thing. But maybe now she can rethink her gameplan. Now she has access to tools she didn't know she had access to before.

Her own sensuality.

She can certainly use that.

And it's not as if she'll do anything too out there. Just... make him feel the heat—the pressure—just a little bit. Make him sweat.

Felicia's of course delighted by this development, giving her full support in "seducing Parker into busting a nut."

(Her words, not MJ's.)

She'd also said something about how it's about time, but that'd been promptly ignored—mainly because MJ didn't know what the hell Felicia was talking about.

The problem is now, though, Michelle's not exactly sure where to start. After Peter had made a dead sprint to the bathroom the night before, he's been a little more, shall we say, cautious, around her. He bounces on his feet, trying desperately to appear casual, acting as if nothing was weird about their movie night.

She only has three days left in the week, so she has to think.

And fast.

Peter's not sure if MJ's up to something, but he can't help but feel as though she's acting... strange. First, the underwear thing, which made him feel all kinds of flustered and weird, and then her head being dangerously close to his dick. It's a lot. She can't possibly know about this No Nut thing, right? She wasn't there, and Ned wouldn't have told her... right?

Still, he tries to avoid her as much as he can, ready to fly away the second she's in the same room as him.

Truthfully, he's always had maybe the tiniest crush on his best friend. It's faded in and out over the years, especially in their college years. But it's always been there, even if just the ghost of one. And now, he's starting to see maybe how bad of an idea this was in the first place—No Nut November. His roommate is literally probably the prettiest person in the world and he's being constantly reminded of the one thing he definitely should not be thinking about under any circumstances if he wants to win. It's a disaster that should have never happened in the first place. This could have been prevented, he thinks.

He's not sure how he didn't think about that when he'd agreed to do this.

He just knows that he has to do something, though he's not sure what.

But any and all ideas of how to protect himself instantly leave his mind, crashing his brain, when he comes back to the apartment the next day to find it sweltering. He looks at the thermostat, thoroughly confused to find the heater set to eighty. He peels off his jacket, recoiling when the humid air sticks to his skin. It's hot. Too hot. Even for early November. It's not that cold outside.

He's about to call out for his roommates when MJ emerges from her room, and he feels like he has to pick his jaw up from the floor.

Her shorts are too short for it being fall. They show too much of her legs for his eyes to not be immediately drawn to them. Her white tank top is tight against her skin, hugging her form in a way that almost makes him jealous. And then, it's almost too much, too dangerous, when he can very clearly tell that she's apparently decided to forgo a bra for the evening.

"Oh, hey Pete!" She says, as if she's not looking like that.

"Hey—hey. Em..." He clears his throat.

Dear God. It's been less than a week. Hold it together.

"Is it..." Peter swallows. "Is it hot in here? The—the heat? Is it—is it on?"

MJ's eyes widen a fraction.

"Oh, yeah. It is," she replies casually. "Is that okay? I was just a little cold."

"So you turn it up to—" Peter stops, craning his neck to look at the thermostat on the wall. "—eighty-two?"

She glances left and right, as if there's nothing wrong with that temperature whatsoever. "Yeah," she says with a nonchalant shrug, her lips tugging into a frown. After a beat, she lets out a faint snort, apparently finding something particularly funny, before turning to the fridge. She opens the freezer, sighing as the cool air hits her face.

Peter doesn't realize he's staring as she reaches in, pulling out a box from the top shelf. When he sees what's in the box, he knows that his doom is near. It's bright, colorful. It's popsicles. He has to leave immediately if he knows what's good for him, if he has any sense of sanity left. She grabs a crinkling wrapper from inside the box, casually whipping it out. She holds one out to him.

"Want one?" She offers.

Peter can only shake his head, swallowing a near-silent, voice-cracking, "Nope."

And it's at this point, as she shuts the freezer door, as she starts peeling the wrapper off the way-too-phallic popsicle, that he knows he should run. It's not safe here.

But he's frozen in place, trying to burn his gaze into the intricacies of the granite countertops, tapping his fingers in an erratic rhythm.

He's an idiot, for sure, because he looks up at exactly the wrong time, right as she wraps her lips around the tip of the pop, her eyes meeting his for a fraction of a second.

How can it only be eighty-two in here?

Thankfully, he gains some sense, tearing himself away from the counter and going over to actually turn down the thermostat. "Is it okay if I—" He coughs. "—Turn this back down?"

"Sure." MJ doesn't stop him. She wets her lips, hiding her satisfied smirk by taking the popsicle deeper into her mouth.

But again, he makes the fatal mistake of looking at her again, because now... well, now she's just messing with him. She has to be.

No one eats a popsicle like that.

When he thinks it can't get worse, she has the fucking audacity to hum as she pushes it further into her mouth. "This is so good," she says, half-way a moan.

Who actually says that about a fucking popsicle?

It's evil, truly it is, because it makes him imagine her swirling her tongue around it inside her mouth, and suddenly, the tightness in his pants gets even more uncomfortable.

He hurries to somewhere else in the kitchen, pouring himself a nice glass of water. It's still too hot in here. MJ sidesteps him easily, still inappropriately eating—sucking off—her popsicle. And he nearly chokes, because as his eyes meet hers again, she takes the damn thing out of her mouth—he thinks he's safe, but oh no—she slips her tongue out, licking a long stripe up the base, swirling it around the tip before taking it into her mouth again.

"What?" She asks—she fucking asks—when he can't look away.

And unsurprisingly, Peter can't speak. Can't even get a single syllable out.

"Is my tongue red?" She asks, sticking said tongue out that was just seconds before all over the popsicle.

"I'm gonna go hop in the shower," Peter spits out, dropping his water in the sink and making a mad dash to the bathroom, not waiting for a response.

A shower is what he needs right now.

A nice, cold shower.

He needs to take a deep breath. Think of not sexy things. Things that don't make his life out to be a bad porno.

Then, he needs to leave. Hide in the forest. Live among the trees, away from temptation, until November is over. Only then can he be at peace.

That's it!

Trees. Nature. Forests. Cold. Snow. MJ in the snow. Kissing MJ in the snow—NO.

NO.

He slams the bathroom door, leaning back against it. He heaves out a shaky sigh, running a hand over his face in frustration. How he can possibly survive the rest of the month, he has no idea.

MJ has to be messing with him, right? There’s absolutely no way in hell she’s not doing this on purpose. And why? Why is she torturing him like this? What has Peter ever done in his life to deserve this torment? It isn’t fair.

No matter how desperately he wants to take care of the not-so-little problem in his jeans, he holds himself back, clenching every muscle in his body as he switches on a very cold shower. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will the image of Michelle—his best friend and roommate—eating a popsicle out of his mind. It has absolutely no right to be there.

And still, as Peter stands under the stream of freezing water, letting it run down his back and front as he holds himself up with one hand, he can’t help but think that the worst is yet to come. That somehow, someway, MJ would top simulating a blow job on an ice pop. He doesn’t know how she’d do it, but he knows it’s coming.

He must be ready.

Not to MJ’s surprise, Peter avoids her the rest of the day. He keeps his head down, not daring to even glance up at her as he walks past. Weirdly enough, this is a good sign. It confirms her hypothesis that her actions can have some sort of an effect on him. It helps her to know what to do next.

And, well…

She’d be lying if she said it weren’t at least a little bit thrilling.

There’s something deep inside her that finds all of this so interesting, so amusing. She wants to know how far she can go, how hard she can push before he cracks under the pressure. And the fact that it’s her that has all this power over him—it’s certainly a revelation.

But still, even if this is “fun,” she can be professional about this. She would never let it get “too far,” whatever that would be. No, the goal here isn’t to seduce her way into Peter’s pants, but to seduce him—innocently—enough that he just does it to himself.

Her next plan might be a little more unfair, a little more direct, and perhaps a little more daring than the last one.

And—she should add—much more difficult than she had anticipated.

For one, she just can’t seem to get the right angle, holding her phone above her body, making sure to get both the underside of her breasts—a tasteful amount of boob, thank you very much—and the same cheap, pretty pink undies she bought from Target. It’s awkward, tilting and twisting her phone, her thumb just barely reaching the shutter button. The first few shots aren’t anything to be particularly proud of. Too blurry, her arm cramping up from holding the camera up so long. This isn’t something she’s really done before, given she’s never seen the appeal. Why send pics when you could just, you know, show them the real thing?

But for some reason, it makes her heart climb into her throat, makes her face almost unbearably warm.

It’s when she changes her positioning on her bed, finding some nice light filtering in from the early evening sun. Golden hour has always proven to be exceptionally kind to her. She finds a decent pose, covering both breasts with her forearm, arching her back, making sure to get that perfect “booty tooch” that would make Tyra proud. She breathes out in an attempt to cool her heated nerves, parting her lips in a way that’s sure to incite some kind of reaction.

Click.

And then, she’s got the shot.

Okay, technically it’s not a nude, but there’s something about the idea of sending this picture to Peter of all people that gets her stomach twisting in knots.

And as her hand hovers over the send button, her heart hammers in her chest, hesitation holding her still. She takes her bottom lip in her teeth, beginning to wonder if this is the best idea. Her plan had been to send the picture, play it off as some kind of mistake, and hope that he goes to… take care of himself. Sure, it might get a reaction out of Peter—one big enough that causes him to give up this whole no nut thing—but it almost feels as if she’s crossing some kind of line.

Miming a blow job on a popsicle was one thing—one that she can’t decide if she’s proud of or not. That was just a performance. It wasn’t something she was doing to Peter. This—sending him a racy picture when he’s literally in the next room—is a direct interference.

Plus, there’s no telling what this would do to their friendship. It could ruin everything. Catastrophically.

Awkward would be an understatement.

She puts her phone face down on the mattress, avoiding the picture all together, before getting up and pulling on one of her comfy robes.

God, all of this was a terrible idea.

Wallowing in her own self-pity and regret, she flops back down onto the bed, grabbing her phone with the intention of deleting the picture once and for all. It’s still there in the text conversation, just waiting to be sent. She scoffs, shaking her head at herself, only for her heart to stop in her chest when—in her frazzled state—she hits “send” instead of that little “x.”

“SHIT.”

No no no no no NONONONONO.

She drops her phone immediately, wrapping her robe tighter around herself as she scrambles for her bedroom door, nearly tripping over her rug in the process.

Peter’s sitting on the couch, blissfully unaware, when his phone pings. And to Michelle’s utter horror, he picks it up.

“NO!” MJ shouts, jumping on top of him. It’s a futile attempt really, seeing as her best friend—she stupidly forgets—is an actual superhero.

Peter yelps as she pushes him down into the couch, tumbling onto the floor, holding his phone away from her grabby hands as she straddles his hips. “What the fuck—” And while he could push her off of him with a ridiculous amount of ease, he stills, becoming suddenly aware of their precarious position.

“Gimme your phone!” Her voice comes out in a half-plea, half-demand. All panic.

Peter still holds it away from her, his own brand of panic flashing across his features when his other hand naturally falls at her hip. He yanks it away, instead holding her back by the shoulder. “Why?”

It’s also then that he sees what she’s wearing—or rather, what she isn’t wearing.

And in his distraction, Michelle snatches his phone, instinctively throwing it across the room. She winces apologetically when he looks up at her, jaw dropped and brow wrinkled.

“What the hell, MJ—”

“—I’m sorry! I panicked!”

“Why?!”

“I—”

It’s then, as they both stare at each other in shock, that they both realize the position they’re in—but neither of them seem to be able to move away, frozen solid on the living room floor.

Peter can feel his heart beating relentlessly in his ears, his throat suddenly going dry when he notices how tightly Michelle’s thighs are holding him in place. Another problem starts to arise when he sees how her cotton robe is pooled around their aligned hips, his eyes catching the sliver of shiny pink underwear when one side falls back. “What—” He clears his throat, his voice coming out uncharacteristically breathy. “—What was on my… my phone?”

“Uh—” She presses her lips together. “A picture.”

Peter’s gaze drifts lower for a split second, dipping to the exposed dip in her chest, drawn to the rise and fall with each breath. “Of?”

“Me?”

“You?”

MJ breathes out a laugh, glancing down. “I, uh—accidentally sent… You a picture. Well—I meant to send it to you, not that like, it wasn’t for you, but I kinda decided not to send it… and then… I did. Accidentally.”

And even though he’s trying everything in his power to keep his eyes on her face, he can’t help the way they seem to travel lower and lower with each second. He’s confused at first, but then, it hits him, like a train, what exactly that picture was. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

The air crackles between them, static in their ears. Michelle finds her own gaze drifting lower, lingering on his parted lips, a warmth pooling in the pit of her stomach. She shifts slightly, her breath catching as she suddenly feels the hardness pressing into the inside of her thigh. Peter stares up at her, something in his eyes bringing her closer, inch by inch. The warmth and weight of both of his hands tentatively, slowly moving to her waist causes something to ignite within her, and in a split-second, her lips are on his.

Michelle’s surprised to find herself… well—surprised—at how this kiss doesn’t immediately turn into an all tongue-and-teeth, ripping-eachother’s-clothes-off kiss. It’s sweet. Slow and tender—as if the two of them are savoring it. Nothing like she’d expected Peter to be capable of. Nothing like how he’d painted himself to be from all of his hook-up stories.

And she’s not entirely sure who’s “fault” it is when it turns into more.

It could be the way she’s subtly grinding her hips against his, her body alight with the friction.

It could be how his tongue swipes over her bottom lip, innocently at first.

It could be her soft, breathy whines as one of his hands moves lower to cup her ass, pulling her closer, the new angle against his hardness bringing an indescribable feeling.

And then again, it could be her robe starting to fall off her shoulders—she’s not sure who starts that, but all of a sudden she’s feeling cool air on her skin.

She almost smiles into the kiss, thinking about how easily and quickly this “chaste” kiss had shifted.

And it’s immediately after that thought that she snaps out of it.

“Wait!” She says, pulling back and sitting up—but still staying in Peter’s lap. Before this can go any further, she has to tell him the truth. He has to be able to… back out of it.

Where this sudden sense of generosity’s come from, she has no idea.

He follows, sitting up with her, brows creasing, his expression a concoction of worry and panic. “Oh, fuck. I’m so sorry—”

“No!” She puts a hand on his shoulder after fixing her robe. Her thumb smooths over the fabric of his shirt. “No. It’s… fine. I just…” Surprisingly, she finds herself chuckling, unable to bite back her smile as he looks at her with concern.

“What is it, Em?”

It’s the nickname for her nickname that does it for her. Truly.

“You good?” He asks, wincing as she shifts in his lap again.

“Yeah, uh—” She coughs, trying unsuccessfully to hide the way her lips are twitching violently as she fights her smile. It takes her more than a few moments, the deep breaths she’s taking not doing all that much to help mask the humor in her tone. “—I know about No Nut November.”

At first, Peter’s confused, staring back at her with furrowed brows, his mouth in a cute little ‘o’. He tries to play dumb, maybe thinking that he can get away with one final attempt to save his pride—letting out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck, he shrugs. “Yeah, my new diet. Crazy, huh?”

She blinks, blankly staring at him. “Peter.” There’s some amusement there, especially as she pointedly glances down to their current position.

“What?” He asks dumbly.

“Ned told me.”

Peter curses, wincing. “Damn it, Ned.”

“Yeah…” In a strange, very unwelcome bout of insecurity, Michelle removes her hands from Peter’s shoulders, twiddling her fingers together in front of her. “I made him tell me… and I kinda… also made him let me in on the bet.”

His eyes nearly bug out of his head. “What?!”

“We kinda made our own bet that like… If you lasted less than a week, I would get all the money.”

“You didn’t think I’d last a week?” Peter almost takes offense at that, even if there’s merit to her prediction. “Damn, MJ…”

“I mean… I also wanted to win. So… I kinda tried—or I guess have been trying… to sabotage you?”

At that, his jaw drops. “No! Wait—You—What? I—” He stammers like that, his brain short-circuiting as she still watches from his lap. “That was—what? The porn? On my laptop?”

MJ nods, grimacing.

“The… underwear? Just in the couch?”

“Yeah…”

“And you were gonna…” He looks down at her, the cotton robe still just barely tied around her—the journey his eyes make also coinciding with his mouth going dry once again. “...That picture you took…?”

She nods again, looking down at her hands.

“Putting your head on my lap?!” He asks, as if he of all people is scandalized.

“That wasn’t part of the plan. That was kinda what helped me figure out that… I could just… do it myself.”

“Oh my God,” he puts a hand on his face. “The popsicle. The fucking popsicle.”

“That was probably my best work, honestly.”

“That was so cruel.”

And when he laughs, his eyes crinkling, she starts to see that maybe this will all be okay, and a sense of relief fills her chest. “Yeah, sorry. I also had Felicia help.”

“You put her up to that?!”

“Nah. She offered. I felt kinda weird about it—” She says the last part without realizing it, immediately shutting her mouth.

“That’s why I said no,” Peter replies.

It’s Michelle’s turn to be surprised. “What? Really? I thought it was just ‘cause you were so dedicated to this whole no nut thing.”

“I mean, yeah, I was but—” He laughs, reaching a hand up to smooth the curls at the base of his neck. “—I just… felt weird about it. With you guys being friends and all.”

The way MJ’s heart flutters is strange, but not entirely unwelcome. “Why would that be weird?”

“Why did you think it’d be weird?” He throws back, his lips twisting into a curious grin.

And not for the first time when talking to Peter, Michelle feels all knowledge of the English language leave her body. It’s strange, how much confidence she can have while literally dry-humping him on the living room floor, but how scared she can be trying to explain something about how she feels.

She only shrugs.

A beat passes, and still, Michelle can’t bring herself to move.

“So…” Peter draws out after another moment. “All that—” he clears his throat. “—stuff… that was just to win that bet?”

“Well, I mean—yeah?” The look of hurt on his face makes her heart lurch in her chest. She’s quick to correct herself. “But—I… I think maybe that could be a good thing.”

His brows raise in careful curiosity, though he still seems apprehensive. “A good thing?” He asks slowly.

Michelle nods, swallowing. “Uh—Yeah. ‘Cause… If I hadn’t then I wouldn’t have figured out that—um… I might—” It’s weird, how frustrating it is that she can’t seem to find the words she wants to say, that her brain seems to have completely abandoned her in her greatest, most dire time of need. And this shouldn’t be this hard. She’s an adult. She’s in her third year of college.

Confessing the feelings that you’ve just realized you have for your best friend since high school should be easy right?

Right?

And she’s only just figured this out. In the last five seconds. That all these years of weird feelings, long glances, warm faces has actually lead to something, they’ve actually meant something other than a weird stomach bug or whatever.

All it took was attempted sabotage during No Nut November for her to realize that.

The power it has.

“MJ?”

His voice grabs her attention; the caution in his tone snapping her gaze to his. And for a moment, she just looks at him, mouth hanging open as she tries to say something, anything. But still, she can’t.

So, she does the next best thing.

She kisses him—again—trying her best to put all of the words she can’t seem to figure out into it. And although he kisses her back—easily—he doesn’t seem to understand what she means, because he pulls away not ten seconds later.

“Listen—MJ—” Peter stammers, running a jittery hand through his hair as he breathes out a huff of laughter. “—I don’t think I can do—” He gestures between the two of them. “—This… if it’s just… casual.”

So, he really didn’t get it, and now, she’s feeling the impatience creeping up her neck.

“I really like you, MJ,” he confesses, and for a moment, she’s not sure if she heard him right, or if she heard him speak at all. Her brain must be playing some nasty, cold-hearted trick on her, because Peter—perpetually single and ready to mingle Peter—just said that he liked her.

God, she feels like she’s a teenager again. It feels so high school, the amount of butterflies in her stomach hearing him say that.

Even more so when she finds herself responding automatically, “I really like you, too.”

“Cool,” he says lamely, his breathless chuckle making her heart flutter in her chest.

He doesn’t waste another second before he tugs her back to him, capturing her lips to his, one of his hands moving to cup the underside of her jaw. She tilts her head, letting out a gentle sigh as he deepens the kiss. His tongue brushes against her lips before slipping into her mouth. The weight of his other hand on her waist is comforting in a way, heavy and solid as he holds her in place.

Truly, she hadn’t expected any of her plans from earlier in the week to come to this.

Instinctively, her hand snakes down to his hips, sliding underneath the hem of his t-shirt and dragging across his stomach, smiling into the kiss as his muscles twitch underneath her touch. It’s then, as her hand dips even lower, palming him over his sweats that he seems to snap out of whatever trance she put him in.

He grabs her wrist—gently, of course—pulling it away and breaking the kiss.

His chest is heaving with each breath, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in an apologetic smile. “I—I can’t—the… the bet.”

And it dawns on Michelle then, that she’s been cockblocked by No Nut November.

Even though she tries to appear understanding, he must be able to see the disappointment in the twist of her lips, the way she nods quietly.

“But—” He starts, pressing his mouth together into a thin line. He nudges her, pointing his finger as he’s hit with a revelation, talking slowly. “—You’re not… doing… No Nut November…”

MJ lets out a surprised laugh, shifting in his lap as her face warms even more. A beat passes as she stares at him, giving him a chance to take it back. “Are you sure?” She finally asks.

Peter nods quickly, insistently. He��s got this. Clearly. “Oh. Yeah. Definitely. I’ll be fine.”

Yeah, she’s not sure how much of that she actually believes.

Probably none of it.

But, that doesn’t mean she’s turning down the offer.

“Okay…” She trails off, unable to bite back her grin at the brief self-doubt that flashes across his features. “What do you—what do you wanna do?” She asks, her face burning, suddenly finding herself the slightest bit tongue tied. It takes everything in her to at least look calm and not like she’s about a half-second away from just jumping his bones.

Or, one in particular.

Peter clears his throat, the tips of his ears turning an adorable shade of red. “Uh—” He huffs out a laugh. “I mean… Whatever you’re comfortable with? I’m cool with whatever you want.”

He’s cool. Okay. Yeah.

She shifts her weight again, biting back a smirk when he inhales sharply as she brushes against the hardness in his gray sweats. “Sorry.” Feeling merciful, Michelle climbs off of his lap, sitting back against the couch, curling her legs underneath her. “Any ideas?”

Though, Peter can’t seem to tell if he’s happy with this new development or not—as hard as it was having her sitting on him. “Um—” And his expression tells her that he does have one. “I could…” He coughs again. “I could go down on you?”

It’s funny, how casually he says it, like he’s offering to give her a ride to the airport, or something. But it still makes her ears ring.

“Yeah,” she says, nodding slowly. She swallows. “That sounds—that sounds good.”

“We should probably—” He gestures to his bedroom door, huffing out a laugh. “—not do this out here.”

“Probably,” she snorts.

The speed at which he scrambles to stand and runs to his bedroom, compared to her somewhat-leisurely pace, makes her let out the most undignified laugh.

A silence falls between them as he shuts the door, the click echoing. MJ takes a moment to glance around his room—literally a single moment, because in the next he’s wrapping his arm around her waist, yanking her to him and crashing his lips to hers. His hands are greedy, twisting handfuls of the soft fabric of her robe, finding purchase on her ass and grinding her against his hardness.

MJ revels in the groan he lets out as she melts into him, her hands winding themselves in his soft curls, twisting and tugging ever so slightly.

He guides her to the bed, pausing to gently lay her back on the mattress before crawling over her, his mouth finding itself on the underside of her jaw, his lips and tongue dragging along the column of her throat. With one hand, he prises her legs apart, happily settling between them while his other fumbles with the tie of her robe.

His eyes meet hers first, silently asking for permission, before pulling the thick string back. His eyes darken as Michelle helps him slip the robe back, leaving her almost completely bare underneath him. He unconsciously wets his lips as his eyes hungrily rake over the expanse of her body—he feels as if the only accurate description for how he feels at this moment being a deer caught in really well-defined headlights.

She thinks for a moment that he’s just going to do this—stare at her—instead of, well, what he said he’d do.

But he doesn’t seem to have that kind of patience. He lurches forward, his mouth hot on her neck, trailing open-mouthed, wet kisses down to her collarbone, her sternum, the swell of her right breast.

She bites back a gasp as he takes her nipple into his mouth, her back arching off the bed as his tongue swirls around it, palming the other with his hand. It’s a sight to see for sure, Peter’s head on her chest, his curls tickling her skin.

His trail continues, back to the dip in her chest, lower and lower, his kisses hot on her stomach, down to her hips, the lace trim of her thong.

Peter sits back on his heels, breathless as he looks down at her. “Fuck—” He curses, drawn to the damp patch in the middle of the soft faux-satin, how it clings to her.

He doesn’t give it another second, hooking his thumbs around the lace and roughly pulling them off of her legs.

He’s diving his head down in the next instant, his lips leaving scorching kisses on the inside of her thighs. He thinks that he can maybe tease her, trying to slow his pace as he gets closer and closer to where she wants him to be.

(Okay, it’s where he wants to be, too.)

He pulls back a little, trying not to smile too much at the disappointed edge in her shuddering sigh. As much as his mouth waters with her so close to him, he controls himself. Kind of. To a degree. He takes a finger, experimentally teasing her entrance, his sweats—somehow—tightening at Michelle’s quiet gasp as he touches her. There, he collects her wetness, coating his finger in her arousal, swirling it over her cunt, around her clit. And he sits there, marveling at how impossibly wet she is already.

Though, it’s not long, probably less than a minute, before his impatience kicks in again.

He thinks he might actually die if he doesn’t eat her out.

Dramatic? Maybe.

Valid?

Who’s to say?

But he can’t help himself, and any thought about slowing down is thrown out the window as he licks a long stripe up her center, his eyes rolling back as he tastes her. He dives right back in, his tongue circling her entrance, lapping her up.

And Michelle can’t help but notice how at home he looks between her legs, how in his element he is as he moves to start sucking on her clit, flicking it back and forth with his tongue as he teases her with two fingers.

His eyes meet hers and she wonders how on earth she’s going to survive this, especially when those two fingers push into her, curling as he pumps them in and out.

“Shit—Peter!” She cries, her back fully lifting off the mattress as he picks up his pace, moaning against her.

Clearly he’s enjoying this, too.

A choked gasp slips from her lips when he slows suddenly, his eyes locking with hers again before picking back up even harder and faster than before. She reaches down, tangling her hand in his messy curls, holding him in just that right spot. Her thighs try to close on him, trapping him in as the coil in her tightens, but his free hand grips her, holding her in place. And she can’t fight the way her hips buck against him as she begins to grind herself against his face.

It builds and builds, teetering just on that beautiful edge, when Peter adds a third finger—and then, she’s seeing stars, her brain going fuzzy as all of her muscles tense, electricity shooting from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She comes with a strangled moan, panting as her body’s overcome with pleasure.

Peter’s movements slow, and he pulls off of her sensitive clit, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm, before taking each finger into his mouth, sucking them clean.

MJ sits up on her elbows, her chest heaving with each breath as she watches him—and at that moment, her eyes drawn to the hard line in his sweats, she curses No Nut November again, because honestly, she’s never wanted him to fuck her more, never been so angry at a single month.

He seems to be in the same fire, his expression wrought with the inner turmoil he feels. His eyes screw shut, and he pinches the bridge of his nose, trying desperately to ignore how painfully hard he is, how he can feel his dick pulsing already, and how stupidly hot and beautiful MJ is.

His decision’s made before he opens his eyes.

Michelle lets out a surprised yelp as he leaps on top of her, his mouth on hers before she can start laughing. Somehow, his hands are greedier as they explore her body, squeezing and kneading her breasts, her waist, her hips, down to her ass.

None of that’s to say that she’s complaining, though. Peter just ate her out like it was his full-time job, like he was stopping crime as Spider-Man. As far as she’s concerned, he can do whatever he wants right now.

It’s when he starts to take his sweats—and boxers—off that she gets confused, if not a little too hopeful.

“What about the bet?” She asks breathlessly when he pulls back.

He holds her gaze, his lips curving into a sly grin. “Fuck the bet.”

If there’s a god, Michelle wants to thank her right now.

Peter’s hands grip her thighs, his fingers digging into her skin as he wraps them around his waist. He takes his dick in his hand, pumping a few times, swiping it down her center, tapping her clit, before Michelle suddenly remembers to use their one collective brain cell.

“Wait—” she gasps. “Condom.”

Peter curses under his breath, hanging his head for a moment, biting his lip. “Yeah. Yeah. You’re right.”

If she thought he was fast running to the bedroom, watching him scramble through his bedside drawers looking for a rubber is something else. A giggle—a fucking giggle—bubbles up out of her at his relief when he finds one.

He rolls it on quickly, expertly, days of No Nut November clearly not slowing him down.

He’s back on her in the next second, eager as he gathers her arousal and coating himself with it.

They both let out a string of curses as he pushes into her—finally. Peter screws his eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath as he feels how warm and snug she is around him, almost unable to believe how well she fits him. MJ grips his shoulder, face burning as he gives her a moment to adjust, a moment to take all of him in.

When he starts to move, they both wonder again why they hadn’t been doing this in the first place.

As with everything else, Peter doesn’t waste their time. Even though he revels in how fucking amazing she feels around him, how he can’t even remember the last time this felt so good, so right, he picks up a steady pace, fucking into her like it’s the last chance he’ll get. He hikes her leg higher on his waist, the new, deeper angle causing Michelle to arch her back, a wet moan ripping through her.

“Peter—” She chants his name over and over, unable to say anything else as his hips snap into hers. “Fuck—”

“God, MJ, you’re so fucking good,” his voice is almost a growl, lower and more desperate than he’s ever sounded. “Taking me so well.”

Michelle should’ve guessed he was one for dirty talk, though she can’t say she’s surprised.

Or that she minds.

Peter bites back a groan, stilling momentarily as she clenches around him, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He’s already so close, teetering just on the edge, but he’s filled with a sense of determination at the sting of her nails digging into his shoulders.

His hand trails down her stomach, his thumb pressing her clit, scrubbing furiously as he pumps in and out of her. She squeezes him again, head thrown back, slack-jawed as he tilts her hips even further, the new angle causing a string of curses to spill from her lips. Her muscles spasm around him as she comes for a second time, her eyes screwed shut as she clings to him for dear life. His own orgasm crashes over him, and he moans loudly into her skin, holding her to him , fingers digging into her hips as he comes undone.

It’s something MJ can’t help but want to see again. And again.

He flops down on top of her, his head on her chest as he struggles to catch his breath.

Her hand comes to smooth down his curls at the nape of his neck, and she smiles as he shifts his head to look up at her.

“God, fuck No Nut November,” He breathes into her skin.

A light laugh bubbles up out of her.

He lets out a heavy sigh. “What day is it?” He asks.

“November fifth.”

He groans, squeezing his eyes shut. “Damn.” He pulls out of her, standing up to throw the condom away, almost missing the bin in the corner of the room.

“You made it longer than I thought you would,” Michelle laughs.

Peter flops down next to her, his eyes narrowed, though there’s still a smile on his face. “What?”

“Well, yeah. I bet Ned that you wouldn’t last a week,” she replies, patting him on the chest as she gets up, disappearing into the bathroom.

Peter’s eyes widen before he covers them with his hands. “Oh. Shit. Ned.”

He’s still there when she comes back; still naked, too.

“Ned, doesn’t have to know,” MJ says, falling back into the bed with him.

Peter peeks out from underneath his arm. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. We can like, pretend you’re still doing it.”

There’s a crooked grin on Peter’s face as he stares at her—a look that makes her insides gooey and heart fuzzy.

And she hates how much she doesn’t hate it.

“And when Betty inevitably breaks Ned,” she shrugs. “We can split the money.”

He shakes his head, amazed and somewhat scandalized. “MJ, you’re a genius.”

Again, she shrugs.

“So, we can keep doing—” He gestures between them, brows raised. “—And let Ned lose. The money’s ours.”

“Right.”

He lamely sticks his hand out, offering for her to shake on it.

“Deal?” He asks.

She kisses him. “Deal.”

#spideychelle #petermj #petermjane #peter parker x michelle jones #peter parker #michelle jones #thotumn #day 11 #no nut november #rated: e

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secret-engima · 4 years ago

Note

Fic title thing - heart held close to the moon and Neptune

...

...............

Neptune ... Neptune was the Roman god of the sea right? ... Just looked it up and yes he was so-

>:D

FF7

Mer

But rather than EVERYONE being mer or whatever, it’s ONLY the three Soldier Firsts of canon. Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal who have never met any other mer, because Shinra are immoral and terrible and use propaganda to promote the idea that Mer aren’t REALLY just like humans in intelligence and emotional range and soul, they just happen to look human-ish on the top half. And because Mer are seemingly extinct (read: in hiding), they have nobly “Resurrected” the lost line of the “most exotic creatures of the sea” in Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal and claim to be in the process of cloning female Mers to “reintroduce the species”.

Except mer are NOT animals.

Mer are the children of Gaia’s oceans, the pulse of her waves and tides, touched by her moon on high. Mer are MAGIC and they will not be contained.

They escape, by the skin of their teeth and with many bloody scars, helped by the last of descendant of the True Mer (Aerith) who can walk on two legs for a time because of her half-human blood. They flee, out into the wild waters, just the three of them as a pod, rapidly protective of their little Pod Queen Aerith, their little sister in their eyes for all it would doom mer to extinction again. So they swim, up river and through lake and through the sea, and sometimes Aerith stops to visit the human woman who cared for her as a child and to tend the garden on two legs while the other three lounge in the little pond and sing softly together, and it’s ... nice.

Then Aerith meets Zack. Zack who is a cheerful sellsword rather than a Shinra plaything, who still respect the Old Ways as best as an ignorant human can, and Aerith adores him and so despite what they want, Sephiroth, Genesis, and Angeal refrain from dragging him below the waves and eating him for trying to court their sister. But Zack is genuine and not cruel like the other humans they’ve met, he gets along with Elmyra and dotes on Aerith and Angeal ends up taking him under his fin after Zack nearly falls in and downs in the pond because surprise this idiot CAN’T SWIM, and really that is that. They have another human in the pod.

Zack tells them all sorts of stories, of the lands they’ve never seen. Jungles and deserts and icy mountains, and in those stories one name and description comes up a lot, the other, younger sellsword Cloud Strife. A fierce little mountain girl who still swears to the Old Spirits and avoids Fairy Circles and will not set foot on a boat until she’s made a sacrifice to the lost Children of the Sea. He describes his “little buddy” so often during his tales that really, it’s no wonder Sephiroth RECOGNIZES the woman while on a solo hunt, struggling in the water, bubbles escaping her mouth and nose, arms and legs bound from where she’s been THROWN OVERBOARD by pirates stealing the ship she had booked passage on.

Sephiroth screams and the storm screams back. The pirates stand no chance and Sephiroth pays them no more mind as he dives down for Cloud, ripping the ropes apart with his claws, swims her up to the surface and realizes that the storm he just summoned is a PROBLEM. The waves are too high for him to keep the human’s head above the water and she’s already NOT BREATHING and Sephiroth can’t just- UNSUMMON a storm, but this girl is Zack’s friend and Zack is pod which makes THIS ONE pod and Sephiroth-can’t-let-her-die-.

Sephiroth holds her close and sings-sings-sings, struggling against death, screaming to the moon to spare this human, to make her SURVIVE somehow, because Sephiroth has too few people in his life and he cannot afford to lose any of them, even one he has never met before.

And Sephiroth-

Sephiroth was Hojo’s finest creation. He was grown from the blood of the most Ancient mer. The Wild Kin even Aerith’s race of mer feared for their power, their savagery, their ability to wrap up the world in their voice and SHAPE it the way they wanted. Jenova is not an alien virus in this au, oh no, Jenova was The Sea Witch. The most feared and powerful and deadly o the Wild Kin, the last to fall in their war against the much more numerous humans and Cetra mer that had banded together against the Wild Kin and their Sea Witches. Jenova was the one who cursed the Cetra and decimated their numbers, she was the one to freeze the great northern sea mid-motion like a glacier around a great crater.

Jenova is, in a morbid, cloned sense, his mother.

Sephiroth sings.

The world obeys.

The body in his arms changes.

Cloud breathes in water and does not drown.

When Cloud groggily wakes up three days later, it’s to one very frantic Zack hovering over her face, the sky above her head, and the weird sensation of being submerged from the waist down. She remembers being knocked off the ship and sits up in confusion-

Looks down and doesn’t see legs.

The glittering tail of ink black and spiraling ice blue twitches spasmodically under her stare, responding to her desperate attempts to move legs that AREN’T THERE ANYMORE.

Cloud starts screaming and all the glass and quite a bit of nearby stone shatters.

While Zack and Aerith help deal with ... THAT whole mess, Sephiroth lurks guiltily in the nearby river, not daring to enter the pond while Genesis whimsically notes that aside from the ice blue swirls, her tail exact same shade of black as his, so does that mean she’s a full blooded Wild Kin now? Genesis and Angeal aren’t, because they have bright red and bright blue scales with black highlights respectively, sign of Wild Kin blood but not nearly as pure as Sephiroth’s jet black and trademark silver hair and slitted eyes. Angeal slaps Genesis over the head and says there are bigger things to worry about, because SINCE WHEN was any kind of magic strong enough to transform a human into an ACTUAL MER and what do they do now? Sephiroth already tried turning her back, but it didn’t work, because that kind of Song that remakes the world itself can only be used on a person on that large a scale ONCE, so now they’re stuck and how will they explain any of that to Zack’s formerly-human friend.

Sephiroth continues to lurk at the bottom of the river, feeling very guilty. He didn’t mean to do that. He meant to save her, not transform her, and the entire thing tastes too much of Hojo’s lab and his unwanted experiments and talk of using Sephiroth’s blood to create clones or hybrids.

Maybe once Zack and Aerith calm her down she won’t entirely hate him?

Who is he kidding, she’ll probably try to gut him with her bare claws.

(Anyway a sort of Modern-Fantasy AU where Mako is a thing but the SOLDIER program isn’t, Mer are a thing, and Fem!Cloud and Sephiroth end up doing an enemies to lovers slowburn but more in a you-transformed-me-against-my-will-so-I-HATE-YOU to friends to lovers way.)

(Also Hojo tries to do more evil shenanigans and Shinra hopes to conquer the world, but that all gets shut down by the Pod because fun fact you can’t run a wold spanning empire if all your ships keep mysteriously getting sunk. It’s not like you can helicopter EVERYTHING over the water, especially since all air traffic gets rapidly shut down by the mysterious super storms that blow in when they try. Reeve eventually gets accidentally kidnapped by the Pod and converted to their side so he starts looking into non-Lifestream power alternatives and Rufus is on board because honestly there’s nothing like a couple of mer arguing, IN YOUR LANGUAGE on whether they should eat you for your sins to make you rethink your life choices and by extension all your evil father’s life choices.)

(Also also Vincent and Felicia are both experiments by Hojo to see if he could create human-mer hybrids. Felicia is a sea serpent and Vincent sometimes forgets that Legs Are A Thing and so just sighs tiredly on Elmyra’s floor in all his red and black octopi glory. Veld is pulled on board the “lets kill Hojo and reform Shinra” boat after he nearly gets his throat torn out by his long lost daughter only for his long lost Turk partner to tackle her and talk her down from accidental patricide.)

(For reference, Sephiroth is a black beta fish with some silver edging on his fins, Genesis is a red with black stripes lionfish, and Angeal is a long-suffering blue and black lions fish. Aerith turns into a long-finned koi, and discovers quite by accident that if you kiss your human boyfriend enough times he gains the ability to breathe underwater and transform into a mer for a few hours before changing back into a human again.)

(And because I’m on a roll, Nanaki is still a cat-lion-thing, Cait Sith has underwater capabilities, Jesse, Wedge, and Biggs are all incredibly baffled humans who aren’t sure how this is their life now, Tifa would like to know when and how her best friend became a Mer (Cloud: It’s all catfish’s fault. Sephiroth: hey.) Barret is a monstrously overprotective dad and Marlene is the world’s cutest baby mer and Sephiroth would literally destroy the world for her if she asked him too. Genesis would help him. Angeal would just sigh and hold Marlene out of the danger zone.)

#SE asks #byakko4 asks #Secret Engima Rambles #title prompt #Mer!Seph verse

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guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom · 4 years ago

Text

The Zone

Peter Parker x bisexual!reader

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Peter Parker x black!reader

Peter Parker x villain!reader

Warnings: Mentions of violence, bruising, allusions to corrupt government, drug use, underage drinking, knives, mentions of neo-nazis, bad eating and sleeping habits, a mention of sex, mentions of death and the dead.

Word Count: 3.7k

Songs: Changes- Charles Bradley, 4 Morant- Doja Cat, Prey- The Neighborhood, Stay Together- Noah Cyrus, Without me- Eminem, Colors- Halsey, Where’s My Juul??-Full Tac, Pork Soda-Glass Animals, Everyday- A$AP Rocky, Facts- Kanye West, Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?, Immortal- J.Cole, High Enough- K,Flay, Drugs- UPSAHL.

A/N: This is pretty short but it’s also the fasest I’ve released a chapter after the other was released.

Series Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

I smashed the keypad multiple times with the handle of a knife before the metal finally fell. I pulled all the wires out before hearing the words ‘System Malfunction’.

If I hadn’t disarmed the alarm system already. I’d probably be worried right about now. I manually slid open the cell door.

That’s when she glanced up at me.

“Took you look enough,” She smirked.

“I could’ve gotten you out sooner if you didn’t get your ass locked up in solitary,” I tossed her the Black Cat suit.

“You know I still don’t know your name or what you look like,” She stated pulling the suit up “and I don’t think that's fair seeing as you know those things about me,” She cooed.

I pulled my mask over my face “It’s Y/N. Happy now?”

“Wow I always knew your voice sounded attractive, matches the face,”

“Okay, we can kiss my ass later but now we have about 2 minutes to get out before the guards come and get us,”

Leaving the building the same way I came in through the vent. You’d think they’d have better security. I was thankful they didn’t when we finally reached the car.

“Who’s car is this?” Felicia asked hopping in the passenger seat.

“Dunno,” I said, putting the car in the drive.

“Hold on tight,” I warned before ramming into the fence at full speed successfully knocking it down.

I was definitely not holding my breath that whole time. And I definitely was not doubting myself. Okay maybe I was, a little.

“I’m surprised that actually worked, none of this was planned at all,” I laughed in relief.

She laughed along with me

“Plans are for the ‘good guys’, if you’re smart enough you don’t need plans,”

“If that’s not the truth,” I replied turning onto a deserted road “You owe me again, I’m not counting, but I believe the score’s 3:1,”

She was right, you never need a plan. Second moral to the story is that even “villains” never work alone. I know I always talk that “every man for themselves” mess but everyone needs a support team. And for people who supposedly have no morals they haven’t betrayed me yet.

There are the bad guys and then there are the bad guys. The heroes didn’t seem to care which you were, they just wanted you locked up or dead and to get all the glory for it. I think it’s time one of us gets the glory.

“Ow!” I exclaimed, pulling myself out of my thoughts.

“Sorry,” Olivia muttered, “You need to be still,” She said, dabbing a cloth on my leg.

“Well it’s hard to be still when your leg is burning,”

I was expecting some jab or joke like normal but it was silent. She looked up at me and I could see the tears forming in her eyes.

“Y/N…” Her eyes drifted over my bruised and cut up body, her voice breaking.

“You don’t have to worry about me, I promise I’m fine,”

“How am I supposed to believe that when you won’t tell me anything?”

“I don’t tell you anything cause then you’d worry,”

“Well I’m already worried!”

The next day of school was very ordinary. Well as ordinary as it got when you were a kid who was wanted in multiple cities. My body wasn’t as sore as it was the day before, the bruises were clearing up, but honestly these new weapons were no joke. I’d seen them burn straight through buildings and a ferry now. Anyways like I was saying before today was ordinary, nothing exciting unfortunately.

Rich kids in Queens take homecoming a little too seriously. For the most part, I’m not complaining penthouse parties were fun. Rich white kids love their molly.

Harry Osborn was one of those rich kids. If we’re being honest I feel like he does coke on occasion. I don’t think he actually liked homecoming all that much seeing as he’s pretty new to our school. I just think he likes being able to brag about his parties and get wasted at parties.

One of those parties would be the one I was getting ready for right now.

Olivia walked into the bathroom and stood in the doorway. This bathroom was very modern as well as the whole house. Like an art gallery.

“Hey kitten,” I said since she wasn’t going to say anything.

“Hey,”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” I asked.

“You know how I feel about Harry’s parties,”

That I did, her dad and Harry’s dad seemed to have some sort of beef. That I didn’t care enough to get into. But Olivia's family took it pretty seriously. I guess I could say Felicia and Olivia’s family. It’s still weird to see them as siblings. It’s not surprising, just weird. Just a weird family of kleptomaniacs.

This isn’t something I say often but I looked really hot. Like really fucking hot. I had even winged eyeliner. A nice black tube top. A pastel pink tennis skirt. I had black thong type thing on, you could see the thin straps resting on my waist from above the skirt. It wasn’t like I was trying to get fucked or anything because I was not planning on being the slightest bit of sober.

I also had thigh high socks on but only because they could conceal a knife and I’d been on high alert lately. Just because I wasn’t going to be sober didn’t mean I couldn’t protect myself. It's a sort of muscle memory when it comes to knives, at least with me

If I wore this anywhere near the kids at my old school they’d probably call me a wannabe white girl, but those kids aren’t there and they have no part of my life anymore.

I just wanted to get so fucked up that I couldn’t think at all.

I couldn’t help but think. That’s all I could do lately. My brain wouldn’t slow down to let me breathe for even one second. I just wanted to breathe and go to bed. I still can’t sleep. At least now I have a valid reason. I don’t like talking about it because it’s not a big deal or anything, but today is the anniversary of-. It’s the day Rose died. No use sugarcoating it. It passes every year, no use being in my feels about it. Couldn’t help it though, every year I’d get sad about it for about 5 minutes until I did so many drugs that I couldn’t blink.

As soon I stepped into the house. I was hit with the buzz I hadn’t felt in a while. I missed it too. It wasn’t like Liz’s “party” her thing could’ve been fun but the whole headache, Vulture thing and lack of drugs made it suck.

Anyways who cares about that. I’d been at this school long enough to know who had molly. I’d either have to flirt with them or pay which I was down for either.

See I knew the chewlery gem rod I had attached to a necklace would come in handy one of these days. Now I wouldn’t bite my mouth.

Only problem is I could still think. Which wasn’t good. There was some sort of jungle juice on the table but I just went straight for a bottle of beer sitting on the counter, because I was shaking too much to pour anything.

Beer has to be the nastiest form of alcohol out there. It looks like pee, tastes like pee, it’s like they didn’t bother trying to mask the taste of yeast in it.

My body was vibrating in a good way as I started talking to people. By the time I’d made small talk with the third person around me. I’d finished the beer and I went back to the kitchen to fill a cup with some form of alcohol and soda I wasn’t picky. Harry must’ve had the same idea.

“Hey,” He said.

“Hey, where’s your groupie,” I said referring to the blonde that’d I seen around him earlier.

“You mean Gwen?” He said, bringing a solo cup to his lips.

“Probably,” I moved over grabbing the orange soda next to me.

“Why’re you wondering, jealous?” He asked being his signature flirtatious self. There was this one time that we… you know. But we were both drunk so it doesn’t count.

“You wish I was jealous,” I rolled my eyes “We both know you're the one obsessed with me,” I laughed.

“Yep, dream about you every night,” He joked back.

I took a sip from my drink squinting as it slightly burned my throat.

“I’m sure you do,” I headed out of the kitchen.

I could feel my brain slowing down as I started to calm. That was until Facts by Kanye came on. Then suddenly it felt like my blood was boiling in my veins and I couldn’t breathe and not in the good way. I made my way to the nearest bathroom and hoped no one was making out in there.

I opened the door and the coast was clear.

I splashed water on my face. When I looked in the mirror my pupils were dilated and my face was flush. Normally my skin tone masked the effects of blushing but not this time.

I wasn’t drunk. Maybe I was but I wasn’t enough. I was still laying on the bathroom floor because it was cold and felt good in contrast against my hot skin. I was going through my phone and landed on Peter’s number. I texted him because I was bored and I can text whoever I want.

you: helo

About thirty seconds later he responded, guess he was already on his phone.

P 😜🤚: Hey

you: do yuo like pengwings

pengns

fck

penguns

penguins

He read the messages and responded rather quickly

P 😜🤚: ?

You okay?

you: yesh im fine d you like penfuins

P 😜🤚: Are you drunk

you: no im nt drunk i m jst hPpy

P 😜🤚: yeah sure, where are you.

Before I could think, I clicked the option to send location. Even if I did think it wouldn’t have done much help. None of my thoughts were coherent. I was actually happy, like really really happy.

I was still laying on the ground when I felt the floor vibrate with the knock at the door.

“Who is it?” I asked.

“Peter,” The voice called out

“Come in!” I said in a sing-songy voice.

He opened the door slowly and looked around before looking down at me.

“Hiii,”

“Hey, what are you doing on the floor,”

I shrugged after slowly pushing off the floor so I wouldn’t lose balance.

“How’d you get here?” Since I know he couldn’t drive.

“I got an Uber,”

“That’s adorable,”

“What’s adorable,”

“You, you spent money on a ride just to come see me,” I pointed out, voice cracking halfway through the sentence as tears started to well in my eyes.

“Wait don’t cry, I’m sorry, did I do something? If I did sorry for whatever it was-”

“No you didn’t do anything, it’s just me,” I moved a hand off the counter I was holding onto for balance before wiping my face. I don’t cry, at least not willingly and definitely not in front of anyone else.

“Well I was going to…” He fiddled with his hands before continuing “I was going to ask if you needed a ride because I didn’t know if you drove here or not and you’re clearly drunk-“

“I’m not drunk!” I said. “I don’t drink how could I be drunk,”

“Okay, but like I was saying do you need a ride?”

I was going to say I didn’t want to leave yet but it’s not like I was doing anything but being pathetic and hanging out in the bathroom.

“Fine, yeah”

Peter opened his mouth like he was about to say something but a knock on the door interrupted. I immediately opened the door and grabbed Peter’s wrist running, for no reason except I felt like it. I bumped into a couple doorways

By the time we’d made it out by the pool Peter was hunched over trying to catch his breath.

I started running toward the water and I could hear a faint

“Y/N don't!” As I was running but it was too late seeing as I was already in the water. I laughed as I broke the surface as I floated on my back.

Peter came over to the edge of the water and squatted down.

“Y/N”

“And nothing hurts anymore I feel kinda free!” I sang splashing around in the pool.

“Y/N”

“We're still the kids we used to be,”

“Y/N!” Peter yelled, snapping my attention back to him.

“Hmm?” I asked.

“You need to get out the pool,”

“I don’t wanna,” I whined.

“Yeah I know but don’t you wanna go home?” He asked.

The last place I’d ever want to go is “home”

“No, get in the pool,”

“Y/N,” He said sternly.

“Pleaseee,”

“Get out the pool it’s cold you’re gonna get sick,”

“Fine…” I made my way begrudgingly to the steps of the pool.

Peter gave me the hoodie he was wearing so I was able to take my skirt and socks off. I put the knife I had in the hoodie pocket.

The last thing I remember is getting in some car.

Oh shit

I woke up in a room that I did not recognize. I swear to God if I got kidnapped again. I sat up quickly and hit my head on something. It was dark but there was a nightlight. Thank God if we’re being honest I’m scared of the dark. Long story I don’t wanna get into it.

I was definitely hungover, headache prominent. It only worsened when I stepped out the room and the light from the TV hit my eyes. I glanced over to Peter laying on the couch.

Oh yeah I forgot about that.

“Hey…” I whispered. He shifted a bit “You awake?”

He sat up and looked at me rubbing his eyes before bombarding me with questions.

“Did you- Are you okay? Does your head hurt? Do you need painkillers? Sorry that I brought you here and didn’t ask. That's really creepy but you were asleep and I didn’t want to wake you because you seemed tired. Again sorry it’s just I didn’t really even know where you lived and I was-“

“Oh my God, shut up!” I interrupted.

He looked stunned, blinking a few times.

“Sorry,” I held my hand to my forehead in exasperation. “Sorry, it’s just you- you were making my head hurt.”

“Oh I’m sorry,”

“No, I promise it’s not you, if it’s okay with you can I go back to sleep? I don’t really feel like going home right now,”

“Yes of course you can!” He sat up and pushed the blanket off of him before standing. “Wait I’ll be right back,” He said. I nodded before hesitantly sitting down on the couch.

He came back rather quickly with a glass of water and some painkillers. I mumbled a quick thank you before taking them.

I yawned, surprised that I was able to actually feel tired. Normally it took at least a few hours before I could sleep if I even got the chance.

“You can take the bed,” Peter informed.

“I just wanna stay right here,” I said lazily.

He tried to scoot over but I already had my arms wrapped around him so I squeezed him tighter. I looked up and his face was tinted red, smiling before I drifted off.

I felt light hit my face and I heard the squeak of a door. I sat up and slowly unwrapped my arms from around Peter. Walking over towards May.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know if it was okay for me to stay here I should’ve called and asked,”

“No, no it’s perfectly fine,”

“Okay…”

“He talks about you all the time you know,”

I smiled at her and she smiled back.

“Thanks for not killing me for being in your house,” I joked. “But I should probably get home anyway,”

I didn’t go home. Mostly because I don’t have an actual home. I didn’t go to any of the almost 13 places I’ve stayed at, at some point either. I went to some shitty hotel. I had enough money to stay for about a week. Which was great I could stay for all of homecoming week then I’d have to find somewhere else to stay before I got more money at least.

The last step for this day was go to Olivia’s house and get my stuff back. I made my way into the house through the back door, and sure enough she was sitting on the couch like parents in movies when they catch you sneaking out.

She eyed the bag in my hand.

“So you’re leaving?”

“I-“ I didn’t get the chance to speak.

“And you weren’t going to tell me, oh okay,”

“Olivia…”

“Where are you gonna stay?”

“I’m going back to my grandma's house,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, again I’m sorry that I tried to leave without telling you I just-“

“Didn’t want to be interrogated?”

“Yeah…”

”It’s okay, I get it, come give me a hug,”

I moved giving her a hug and she mumbled

“You smell like booze,”

As soon as I got back to the hotel I turned on the movie Frozen. Which I knew was a bad idea because the movie always made me cry.

I ended up crying myself to sleep and by the time I woke up I was late for school. I slept for 18 hours straight.

If I was going to be late might as well have had a reason. So, I got smoothies.

“I love smoothies a lot, but banana is so so strong. Which like makes it pointless to put anything else in it. People should stop saying strawberry and banana smoothie because in reality it’s a BANANA and strawberry smoothie,” I took another sip of my smoothie.

“Damn bitch, you’re saying a lot and fast what’d they put in that smoothie,” Bri said examining the cup before turning to me again “And can I have some?” I laughed before lighty shoving her shoulder.

“Noo! Continue talking you were my reference for my excitement portrait,” MJ said flipping her sketchbook towards me “I’ve missed my one and only chance to see you happy,”

“Now I know you’re not talking, I don’t think anyone has seen you smile ever,”

I slid down the bench of the lunch table

“Whatcha watching Phineas?” I asked Peter. He quickly swiped out the app. “Was it porn?”

“No! Wha- What?”

I patted his shoulder “Relax dude, I was just messing with you,”

That was the last I’d spoken to any of my friends. In all actuality that was the last time I’d spoken to anyone besides the hotel staff. I hadn’t been to school since...what’s today? Wednesday. Well then I hadn’t been to school since 3 days ago. Which also means I haven’t eaten since a week ago?

Okay I know how bad that sounds but it’s not like I’ve been eating nothing. I just haven’t been hungry lately, I have had snacks though like goldfish and chips. I’ve just been too lazy to cook and don’t have the funds to cook. I’ve also been too lazy to fake a smile or whatever so I just haven’t been going to school.

However what I have been and haven’t been eating is the issue of concern here. It’s that alien shit from the Avengers a few years ago is so much deeper than anyone could have ever thought. I’d been in research mode for a while now. I call it the zone, anything you say to me will go unheard, I mean business when I’m in the zone. If I want something to happen it will.

“Okay so, I’ll start with the government flash drive. So the aliens that attacked a while back in 2012 were called Chitauri. So Loki had control of them and was using them as an army. Loki being Thor’s brother and the God of mischief,” I clarified.

''And Loki was attacking because he wanted to be king but his brother was king instead. I mean I think, I don’t really get that part. So there was this thing called the tesseract and it’s supposedly like super powerful. This branch of government called Shield doesn’t want Loki to have this so they keep, then the invasion ensues. This tesseract however is some space stone and Loki used it to bring in the aliens. It’s some sort of infinity stone whatever that means. Howard Stark found the stone in the ocean, because a Stark is always gonna be the one to fuck the world up when they think they’re helping. Then he and someone else founded Project Pegasus-”

“What’s project Pegasus?”

“I don’t really know but I know it stands for potential energy group alternate sources,”

“Oh, so it’s Shield that’s over this… Tesseract?”

“Exactly!” I clapped and the papers with all the information I printed from the flash drive rustled underneath me.

“What are you going on about?” Carmen asked. “Like what’s the bigger picture?”

“That’s the thing! I don’t know, this is like so covered up and coded that I can’t figure it out with information that I have,” I turned towards her “But I will, and that’s where your help comes in,”

“Y/N, when’s the last time you slept?” She tilted her head like those dogs in Minecraft when you have food.

“Last night,” I waved her off.

I looked down at the information I was able to find out about Kingpin since he was mentioned in the video my mom made for me. Apparently she worked for him for a while. So did Felicia but all she’d ever tell me was “He was an ass he did give me a gift I’m grateful for though,”. He had affiliations with everyone.

From what Black Widow released out unto the world he had connections with a Neo Nazi group called HYDRA which brainwashed people from what’ve heard.

Before I’d just wanted to take down the Vulture out of pettiness if we’re being honest, but now. Oh now? I knew I’d have to.

Another paper I’d printed from Kingpin’s affiliations caught my eye.

“Hey Carmen,”

“Hm?”

“Ever been to Vegas?”

Taglist:

@tomdiddlyumptious

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #mcu x reader #reader x peter parker #Peter Parker x Vigilante!Reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x poc reader #peter parker x black!reader #peter parker x bi!reader #peter parker x bisexual!reader #peter parker x thorn #Thorn Series #spiderman x thorn #thorns prick

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someobscurereference · 5 years ago

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Graceless Heart Fic (Spoiler) Notes

These are notes for my 80K Fire Emblem fic “Graceless Heart.” These notes are full of SPOILERS! Please read the fic first! Beware at your own risk!

The notes will be under a Read More. Mobile users, if it doesn’t work for you, I’m so sorry.

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS BELOW:

GENERAL NOTES:

Sumeragi was at work while Corrin was saying goodbye to the Hoshido family. He already said goodbye to Corrin that morning. That’s why he doesn’t appear here.

Xander texting Inigo back a heart emoji: I don’t see Xander as an emoji person, but I think Inigo is definitely the type to use a lot of hearts and whatnot when texting. Xander would not do that on his own, but if you look at his phone, you’ll see his most used (and only) emojis are the heart ones that Inigo sends him. Because Xander is willing to mimic how Inigo shows his affection for the sake of mutual reciprocation. Plus he got made fun of for being so stiff and formal when he writes.

Dock Fight with the Trio: Owain is genuinely embarrassed and Inigo really is going to tease him with those memes, but they’re all friends. This is not a serious fight. Severa and Inigo are not being deliberate assholes here. They’re all having fun.

The book Leo is reading when Owain asks is The Gift of Fear by Gavin de Becker.

Everyone’s swimsuits are based on what they wear in FE Heroes as summer units or their outfits in the Beach Brawl DLC, minus Corrin, who wears a swim t-shirt on top of whatever bathing suit you imagine for them.

In a real situation where someone is drowning, you should probably not grab them the way Corrin grabs Inigo. A drowning person is very likely to harm or hinder their rescuer due to panic. I just wrote that scene a little less realistically in the fic because I didn’t want to deal with that and, like I say in the notes, I’m functioning on action movie logic. Action movies aren’t realistic.

When Corrin tells Inigo that they’ll keep his almost drowning a secret so long as he lets them know if he has health problems later and Elise tells Inigo to let them know if he has bad dreams, what Elise is actually saying is “Hey, if you start to get PTSD over this, let us know so we can help you.” But she doesn’t want to be so blunt, making this be the type of thing Inigo keeps to himself and suffers through alone, so she says “bad dreams” instead to phrase it with less stigma.

You’ll notice after Inigo’s near drowning that I mention how exhausted he feels when he’s having a freakout on the floor of his cabin, how tired he is the next morning before, during, and after the shopping trip, how he leans heavily on stuff and people, etc. His fatigue can be explained by stress and other normal things. However, it is also a result of the lake water being genuinely bad for people! Most people who go to the lake naturally get this vibe and don’t swim too far out into it/tend to visit the lake in groups or pairs so the chances of drowning decrease. (I almost wrote some of this into Anankos’s dialogue but it felt wonky and didn’t fit.). Corrin also feels this same exhaustion in subsequent scenes, although it’s emphasized less.

Likewise, when Owain and Corrin are stranded in the middle of the water, they also grow quite exhausted rather quickly because (a) the closer to the center of the lake, the more powerful the Bad Vibes that drain your energy and (b) there’s so much rain and water everywhere that as they swallow, they’re also growing more and more tired. Also, fear takes a lot out of a person in general.

Similarly, when Corrin’s foot gets grabbed on the docks, I mention a few times that their legs feel heavy, etc. This is all related to Evil Lake Energy. Severa’s almost drowning is the same deal as Inigo. Everyone who gets in the water (especially if they swallow any) experience this same lack of energy. It’s worse if you actually swallow some water right out there in the middle of the lake and you’re just more susceptible to that kind of bad magic like Anankos unfortunately was. Corrin has been through the wringer at the end of this fic because of constant exposure. They’re on nothing but bedrest for a good number of days after the end of this fic. Lots and lots of sleep for them. Owain is only mildly better in that he doesn’t have to be admitted to the hospital but does need A Lot of sleep. Rest assured that they do eventually recover though.

Elise “lying to Xander and Camilla about stuff all the time” — A reference to in-game canon about how Elise regularly ditches her retainers and goes around to the poorer parts of the city where she is explicitly forbidden to go. She’s surprisingly sneaky and has no problems not telling her siblings about this.

I paraphrased some dialogue from in-game between Leo, Niles and Owain when the latter are trying to convince Leo to swim because it mimicked a Beach Brawl DLC scene.

“Pot, kettle” = a reference to Niles canonically reminiscing about the past in his and Leo’s support. He likely does that in this AU on occasion as well.

Camilla’s SUV has 3 rows of seats because she loves the extra room for bags/extra passenger space.

Some of Camilla and Xander’s interactions and some of Xander’s narration referencing her is also a direct reference to their Supports in Fates also. In this fic, Camilla’s jab at being surprised Xander would ever notice how she felt about Severa because he’s always so busy is more a jab to get him to back off than a pride thing like in canon, but the pride is probably still there too.

Severa lives! She lived because I wanted her too (and because I cannot stand any character death in fics that isn’t like “The Villain Died Forever Ago And Maybe There’s Danger But Everyone Else Is Fine”), but it is a sort of miracle. Camilla did not do proper drowning rescue procedure here. Nobody did. I’m sure you picked up on that from the panic and flashbacks and whatnot. Everyone did their best at handling that rescue, but it wasn’t great. There is too much Panic™ to remain calm, although in real life that’s absolutely what you should try to do in an emergency. Camilla’s one (1) exchange of air is not usually going to save the life of somebody who is really in danger. The only reason it worked is because (a) Severa wasn’t really dead, although she sure looked like it and (b) this is fantasy fiction. Please call emergency services in a situation like this irl or immediately drive to the nearest hospital if there is no cell service and it’s safe to do so.

Xander’s last conversation with Inigo in this fic directly stem from his fear of (a) not being in control and (b) not being strong enough to protect those he cares about.

Originally Elise was going to be the one who figured out Anankos drowned, but somehow while writing it just didn’t work that way, mostly because she ended up stuck by the cars. Whoops. You’re the real hero in my heart, Elise.

CHARACTER NOTES:

Owain’s insecurities stem from his Felicia and Severa supports where Owain reacts very negatively to being called weird. Also from the hc that growing up in modern AU with public school would probably emphasize that insecurity too, since kids can be real bullies. I very much picture him as the “Weird Kid” in class who was in his own little world and other kids whispered about him for it. Which is unfair, because he’s really just having fun :( By middle school/high school, he’s likely learned to tone this down a little, but only after a series of Bad Memories that make him develop a fear that everyone is just barely tolerating him or is making fun of him behind his back. It’s an infrequent insecurity because Owain is pretty good at not really caring what others think, but it’s one that exists all the same. He’s known Niles and Leo for a year or maybe two at this point, but when Leo admits (like in canon) to hating Owain when they first met, it triggers those insecurities again and sets back the progress the three of them had made in working up to a relationship together.

Corrin has a peacemaker type personality in Fates and always wants to believe the best in everyone to the point where they only seem to learn their lesson of “trust but have a backup plan” near the end of the Revelations route. I think I was mostly true to that character of Corrin in my other horror fic Dark Things Grew. And I think I was mostly true to that version of canon here until the part where Corrin and Owain are stuck in the middle of the lake together. (If you think Corrin was 100% what you expected all the way through, yay! But if not: ) Perhaps Corrin is a little more freaked out or snappier than some of you might have expected. However, I am taking some liberties with the fact this is a modern world AU here. In Fates, magic is real. Dragons are real. Ogre monsters that you can summon out of thin air to do your fighting for you (i.e. Faceless) are real. Some things are less likely than others, but there’s a whole realm of magical possibility that doesn’t exist in our reality. So when you find out that the lake your mom used to visit all the time is possessed (huh????) by a demon (?????) whose voice you are hearing in your head (???????) and also who is not a demon but actually your ghost dad (????????) who is trying to kill you and all your friends you guess (????????) but you’re not really sure what’s going on still except for the fact that oh, Ariana, we’re really in it now, aaaahhhhhhhHHHHH—

Well, you, too, would probably be a little upset. Corrin is the same at their core. They’re just allowed to go “Yo, what the heck” now. (I almost had Corrin say the F word in just their narration once and I couldn’t do it :/) They go through a lot of feelings in the climax of this fic, actually, and I hope they felt at least somewhat reasonable reactions to you, the reader, since the situation Corrin finds themselves in is so unprecedented, stressful, and wack.

Also, this is true for all characters! They’ve been mildly adapted into modern counterparts. This means some experiences that shaped them in Awakening/Fates didn’t happen here or were adapted into modern equivalents. (For example, Inigo is a little less able to run face first into battle than in Awakening/Fates bc he didn’t experience the terror and necessity of having to fight the Risen as a young kid. He still grew up shy and is a (self-admitted in Supports) crybaby who tries to hide those facets of himself, however. Hence why he feels the need to put on a brave face after Bad Things Happen. He still feels like he needs to be a pillar of support for people, although he’s a less steady than his more hardened counterpart. Similar extractions can be applied to other characters throughout this fic.

I often write Severa/Camilla as a very doting, established relationship. A lot of the time the conflict in my stories comes from some outside factor—a dragon, a war, magic, etc. I don’t write a lot of interpersonal conflict, and it’s something I thought I should try my hand at least once. Camilla and Severa’s dynamic here specifically draws from Camilla’s habit of keeping her true feelings close to her chest in her supports. In canon with Selena, she very obviously gives noncommittal answers to Selena’s demands that Camilla praise her for being the best. With Xander, Camilla lies by omission—when he guesses her favorite food wrong, she pretends he’s right for the sake of (presumably) not embarrassing him and proving he doesn’t actually know his siblings better than she does. I’m sure there are other incidents where Camilla hides her true feelings too. I’ve always wondered about these events. Emotionally, Camilla is a very interesting character to me. She has a lot of thoughts and feelings, but she seems to keep a lot of them to herself. I wish that was explored more in-game.

Here, I combined Camilla’s natural tendency to keep her true feelings to herself with her canonical childhood loneliness. She canonically felt bereft of maternal love as a child, and that’s why she tries to shower so much on Corrin. In this fic, Camilla is afraid of opening herself up to love from others. She can dole it out because she doesn’t want to deprive anyone (specifically Corrin, who was isolated a lot via Garon) of that same love, but in turn she never wants to actually be vulnerable with anyone. Family gets special privileges, but even her siblings don’t get to see everything. She has romantic feelings for Severa, but she’s afraid of opening herself up to potential hurt and having that love thrown back in her face later. So Camilla does herself the favor of not allowing herself to be vulnerable in the first place. There’s some part of her that really does want to openly love and be loved by Severa, however. So that’s the yo-yo affect Severa is dealing with throughout this fic.

Camilla knows, factually, that Severa likes her too. But she also has this defense mechanism she’s used her whole life. She wants the best of both worlds; she wants to teeter on the edge of romance/intimacy she and Severa both crave while still keeping Severa at arm’s length so she never actually has to face the danger of being potentially vulnerable with Severa and therefore hurt. Which, you know. Is shitty. (Sometimes the people you love can do shitty things. Sometimes you can do shitty things. I think Camilla’s character is more complex, realistic, and interesting here because of it. I hope you think the same.)

And Camilla keeps it up until she realizes losing Severa is still a very real possibility whether or not she admits her feelings. It’s too late to pretend otherwise. She’s already vulnerable to that hurt she wanted to avoid. The shock of that revelation, the fear of losing Severa, and also McFreaking Water Ghost is enough to get her to admit her feelings and change her behavior. It’s not all peaches and cherries from here on out for them, but it’s a start. They’re taking it slow.

Camilla isn’t a villain here, which I say because I worry some people may think I wrote her to be villainous. Sometimes the people you love have baggage. Severa has it too. So does everyone else in this fic and in your actual real life. That’s natural. Sometimes we do shit things because of that baggage. It happens. Does that mean you get an excuse for your actions? Absolutely not. Apologize. Do better. Camilla is trying. They’ll go from here.

I was trying for a lot more nuanced, complex approach to these two this time around rather than the zero interpersonal problems approach. It was new for me too. I hope it payed off.

Anyway, love wins.

A VERY BAD OUTLINE OF THE CABINS THAT I MADE IN PAINT 3D AND A FLOOR PLAN I STOLE FROM GOOGLE IMAGES 2 YEARS AGO:

I am so sorry for the quality of this, lmao

#my fic #long post #fe14 #fe13 #graceless heart #character analysis #fic analysis #my text #graceless heart fic

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yvaquietdays · 6 years ago

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Deciding to be happy.

Sometimes meditation doesn’t work. Sometimes being mindful of your downfalls doesn’t work. Sometimes yoga doesn’t work. Sometimes writing doesn’t work. It’s a little hard for me to describe how I’ve been feeling the last month or so. Of course I’m going to try, that’s why I write a blog. *sly face* So I’ve talked about cycles before. Being aware of the small turnovers of life makes the every day manageable; being aware of how our emotions and vibrations fluctuate certainly makes everything seem a little less daunting.

I’ve been conscious that I’m entering a new cycle of my life. I’m not so far away from turning 28, an age I’m told is the beginning of the fourth cycle in life. And whether you buy into the hokey-pokey, it makes sense if you suspend your disbelief for a moment. Apparently you have the first 7 years, the years of your childhood and innocence, of unadulteratingly questioning and experiencing the world you live in. Then the second stage, taking you to 14, where you’re contemplating adulthood and experiencing massive physiological changes and all the outcomes of that. Then to 21, where all the shit hits the fan and explodes outwards all over you and the people in your life. I’ve been dealing with the proverbial shit of this third cycle for a while, experiencing existential fear and anxiety for the first time, sorting through the people in my life, assessing how I relate and love, seeing my familial relationships through new eyes, shaving off the bits of me I don’t like. Essentially, the un-conditioning of myself and becoming a new person.

The last time my life seem to change, there were signals. Life threw me signs that I was about to turn things upside down for a bit. I emotionally and spiritually gave up on London and I lost two friends to the music industry; its hold over all of us to get as much out of our creative outputs as possible (i.e money). This is important enough to mention because it damaged me a lot. It affected my trust with people and I felt so betrayed and let down. I’ve made my peace with them and with the situation, but I’ve learned from it, because at the time, it was just another knife in the side, and I didn’t want it happening again. From that point though, I headed steadily downhill somewhere close to the bottom, where I was thinking of jacking it in altogether. I considered going into property with my savings and my Dad. I considered opening a home-brew shop with my partner, who really was my anchor when I was close to floating off unmoored. I didn’t though, because my other anchor was my own spirit, the relentless resilience I seem to have inherited, that I’m sure I don’t deserve; my music and my innate and absolute desire to howl at the moon. Nitin played a huge part in getting me through this phase. Had I not worked with him, I might have forgotten how important singing was to me. He was a kind of the lifeboat that kept me chugging along in the rougher waters for a while; I was desperately unhappy but those days of rehearsals, shows, and being involved in the dance piece were all life rings that I could swim to and gradually get closer to solid ground. At this point, I believe I was shedding off the things I didn’t need to prepare myself for this next stage.

And this time, I’ve also lost two friends. I’m not going into any great detail about this, only that I believe it was for the best and ultimately the whole experience told me a lot about the people in my life, who I am, and what I stand for. It had a lot to do with how I’ve allowed people to take advantage of me for too long. This ties into one of my previous blogposts about saying sorry and not wanting to rock the boat. I have been conditioned to be nice and I am actively changing this. I have Jameela Jamil to thank for opening my eyes and forcing me to see that it doesn’t make me difficult or manipulative to call out the truth and stand strongly within it. They ended up deleting me from their life because of it. But I hated the entire situation. It hurt. Needless to say it had a big affect on me. That combined with new opportunities taking a while to come to fruition seemed to trigger my anxiety and low mood for the first real time since I wasn’t well. It brought back a lot of bad feelings about inadequacy, self-doubt and the need for external validation that I’ve worked so bloody hard on eradicating.

Validation is the key word here. I believe it is what most of us struggle with going into our adult lives. I’ve worked very hard to not rely on other people’s voices to bolster my own self-esteem. I’ve done my soul-work, I only listen to my own. I’ve learned to tell the ignorant slut (pls read past post re this: it’s what I call my anxiety) in my mind to shut up when she’s being unkind. But over the last few weeks and returning from LA, which now seems like a dream, the voice has elbowed its way in and I’ve allowed it to have an affect on me. I’m waiting; waiting like I did before, waiting for good feedback, waiting for someone else to come at me with the next opportunity. Stagnant. Waiting for the world, looking for someone to blame.

So what the fuck am I doing? I mean, really. I have been arranging my own sessions, writing my book and flirting with a second, being open and vulnerable about my talent and about my humanness. I’ve been rocking it.

But recently, the difference was that I was doing my yoga, not practising it. I was forcing myself to set an intention of success, orienting everything around my goals. I meditated just to check it off the list. But you can’t apply mindfulness with brute force, with a shotgun to the head and your arm twisted behind your back. What I was doing went hand in hand with the thought that, “If I don’t, I will fail.” Before I knew it, I was telling myself I wasn’t worth it. I’m not creative. I don’t have any ideas. I don’t have an emotional scale. I feel nothing about anything. Have a baby, do something else. You don’t belong in that world (LA). You don’t know who you are. You’re not passionate enough about your art. You’re not passionate about anything. Why is nobody getting back to you? You’re forgettable. It’s because you’re not assertive enough. They deleted you because you meant nothing to them. They didn’t apologise to you because they don’t value you.

The rabbit hole is deep and it is wide. Once you’re on that slope, it seems pre-destined that you’ll end up at the bottom before you even notice you slipped. But I noticed. I’ve my best mate and flatmate to thank for a conversation that made me realise what I was doing, ‘cos I was feeling pretty low there for a minute. The truth is that it takes real mental effort and strain to drag yourself up the mud slide back to even ground. When I was feeling pretty bad, I used to dream about doing the same thing over, and over, and over again and never reaching a resolution. I dreamt that I was at the bottom of the muddy bank and I could not get to the top where the grass was still green. So doing yoga and meditating over and over to force wellness doesn’t work. Negativity does not beget negativity. You have to accept your feelings and do the work to counter-argue with yourself in a gentle and loving way. I am worth it. I am creative. I feel everything, that’s why it hurts. I know who I am, more than ever. I’d be a great mum, but if I have a baby now I’ll probably forget about it and leave it in the washing basket. I am passionate. I am open and patient, and I trust that things will work out. I am hardworking. And they deleted you because they didn’t value you. That says more about them than you, you stone cold, lovely, bad ass bitch.

Bye felicia.

I am entering a new chapter of my life soon, and I feel my world shifting to allow for it. It isn’t waiting if I regain control and organise my life. Just because someone is giving you an opportunity doesn’t mean that the work is done. It means that you’re just getting started, and you have to work, now more than ever.

Last week I wrote a song on the guitar. This has not happened in a long time. I was consuming a lot of emotional TV (Queer Eye, k thnks), and I was inspired to assess my own mental health. I got complacent, and the doubt got in. It never really goes away, and just because I was feeling better there for a hot minute in LA, doesn’t mean that the work is done. It continues. Always. I don’t want to wake up one day and realise I’m missing something vital because I looked to others to tell me what I’m worth. Everyone else wants as much as possible for themselves. If that means cheapening you so that they’re worth more; that is what they will do. Know. Your. Own. Worth. ‘Cos even your friends will undervalue you.

Self doubt waits at the door, constantly. It wants to be let in, but you keep it at bay. You nod to it, but you don’t allow it across the threshold.

After I recorded the song idea into my phone, I sobbed. Hard. I cried my eyes out. And then I was done. I let the tears come out, unbidden, because I needed to feel it. I think I needed to remember the power of that musical release, why I do what I do. Sure, I’m not like other musicians or singers. Maybe I am depressing, but I’m communicating something that is honest and what we all go through. I am me. And that is enough. It doesn’t matter, all that other stuff. It doesn’t. What matters is how I feel about my music.

I’m getting to my conclusion, I promise. I meditated earlier this week, and the lovely Andy Puddicomb at Headspace told me to see my mind as the sky. Behind all the clouds, there is always a blue horizon. Just like when you’re on a plane and you finally get above the candy cotton clouds, and in your head you do a little Peter Pan style bounce across them. There’s a soft kind of release I get when I see that. Peace and quiet. Space and breath. Everything else; feelings, thoughts, how we dress, what the world might think...they’re the clouds. When I feel low, my mind seems like an overcast horizon that will not break. An endless, grey, unfeeling cloud of bleak whatever. When I feel good, it’s a summers sky with fluffy white clouds rolling through; you know they won’t stay forever. Meditating is grounding, and reminding yourself with nothing more complicated than breathing that your default setting is a vast blue sky. Warm and peaceful. It might even feel like nothing, but that’s ok too. Everything else is temporary. Clouds are impermanent. The sky is always clear.

So this is my point. I set my intention that day to have a good day.

Enjoy the little details, enjoy my trial shift at the cafe, enjoy the look on southerners faces when I have a bit of craic with them. Enjoy cooking, enjoy the process, enjoy the walk between here and there, the blossoms, the warmth of the sun on my face. Choose happiness. Choose the blue sky. Decide to be positive. It’s not always easy, and maybe it doesn’t always work. After all, life throws us curveballs and it hurts to get whacked in the face, but it’s a damn sight better than choosing to be an arsehole about it. Try it.

Decide to be happy.

xxx

#mentalhealthawareness #Goodmentalhealth #mental health recovery #mentalhealthblog #mentalhealthblogger #mentalhealth #livingwithanxiety #low mood #mentalhealthwarrior #livingwithmentalhealth

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darkchaosodin · 7 years ago

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Things I’ve Learned from Takumi’s Support Conversations

After reading all of Takumi’s supports, there was a l o t of stuff that made me like him a lot more than I already did. Here are the things that stuck out to me. I decided to put them all together in one post. There’s spoilers(?) because it’s from the dialogue in his supports(?) You’ve been cautioned. Anyways, some of these may be more obvious, but I included them anyways.

Note that some of these support tidbits in Fates are localization only. The peeing thing was a thrown in joke from the localizers. In Japanese, he and Leon are actually huge philsophy buffs, not history buffs focused on battle. The localization also added contraditictions, such as having Takumi claim fishing is something he does all the time on the castle grounds. There's more, so just keep that in mind when using the localization to analyze characters. -Anonymous

he has no problem fighting on the battlefield because he has more confidence in himself, but when it comes to hunting, it’s a challenge because he’s yet to master the art of concealing his presence. (Kagero support)

he pees a little when he is scared. (Kagero support)

he can’t bear standing around waiting for something to happen. (Kagero support)

he’s nowhere near a good fisherman because has little to no patience (Kagero support)

he hates water training because it’s always about staying in the water and doing as little as possible (Kagero support)

it bothers him when people blow him off saying he’s not capable of doing as much as someone else (Kagero support)

he thinks part of his upbringing has left him spoiled (Kagero support)

Ryouma sees Takumi as not only a skilled fighter, but as a smart individual with a sharp mind who would make an excellent advisor to him when Ryouma becomes king. (Ryouma support)

he believes that if he isn’t the strongest warrior on the battlefield, he would be worthless to Ryouma. (Ryouma support)

he finds books on Nohr’s country, culture, weaponry, etc very fascinating. (Elise support)

he feels bad and it eats at him when he know’s he’s wronged someone no matter how small and petty it may be. (Elise support)

he cares too much about what others think. (Elise support)

he goes off deep into the woods to practice so that no people are around to distract him. (Camilla support)

he doesn’t trust anyone he’s just met. (Camilla support)

he fusses pettily and gets flustered often. (Camilla support)

he thinks Camilla must have many suitors because of how warm and beautiful she is. (Camilla support)

Leo and him believe they would never be friends, but they end being very close when they discover how many things they have in common. (Leo support)

he initially thought of Leo as a patronizing jerk (Leo support)

people start calling Leo and Takumi “the twins” because of how similar they are. (Leo support)

his favorite food is miso soup. (Leo support)

he loves to read history books because he loves to study the strategy behind past battles. (Leo support)

his favorite game is shogi and he’s the best shogi player in his family. (Leo support)

it’s hard for him to hate someone who he has so much in common with. (Leo support)

he loves to read and he often stays up way too late reading. (Leo support)

he tried to beat Mozu at farming, but gave up because it was too much work and he didn’t enjoy it. (he did end up trying again and this time he became a natural) (Mozu support)

he is astonished that Mozu will put all of her effort into something that can still fail utterly. (Mozu support)

he often offers to help people with just about anything, especially if he was a hindrance to them. (Mozu, Felicia, etc support)

he wants to be a royal who understands his subjects and the challenges they face. (Mozu support)

whatever is special to the person he loves is special to him as well. (Felicia support)

he prefers for people to only see the result of his work, but not the work itself. (Jakob support)

he is known as one of the best archers ever, but even though he knows people think of him this way, he is not satisfied with his level of skill. He knows he can become even stronger yet and that if he does, others will acknowledge him for it; he seeks approval. (Jakob support)

he is shocked by how much Rinkah eats. (Rinkah support)

his mother passed down a red jewel to him, telling him to hand it over to the woman he fell in love with. The jewel was given to the Hoshidan king as a sign of the friendship between the flame tribe and Hoshido. (Rinkah support)

he dreads going to banquets and parties. (Sakura support)

he doesn’t understand why people have parties when there are wars going on. (Sakura support)

he doesn’t like acting superficial and doesn’t know what to say when trying to hold a formal conversation with someone becaus everyone is so stiff. He wishes that could be left to someone else. (Sakura support)

He ponders faking a fever and hiding in the infirmary or setting all the guests hair on fire to get out of going to a party. (Sakura support)

he doesn’t want to ask Azura for help on surviving the party because he thinks she’ll just tell him to stop acting like a jerk. (Sakura support)

when he ends up attending the party, he panics and starts talking everyone’s head off and everyone loved him. (Sakura support)

he believes it’s important for him and his siblings to be accessible. (Sakura support)

he is suprisingly good with kids. This is because he pretends he’s talking to a younger version of himself. (Azura support)

he was mischievous and stubborn as a child. (Azura support)

he finds it hilarious when Azura tries to calmly reason with a child. (Azura support)

he has nightmares and recently he’s been dreaming of the night his mother died. (Azura support)

he sleepwalks. (Azura support)

he becomes embarrassed when he shows a vulnerable side to someone. (Azura support)

he’s always had a little crush on Azura ever since they first met. (Azura support)

Hana and Takumi used to train together almost every morning until one day he suddenly stopped coming. This is because one day when Sakura stopped by during their training and Hana suddenly proposed a duel with swords. Hana had just become Sakura’s retainer and she was eager to prove herself while Takumi was hesitant because he didn’t wantto beat up his little sister’s best friend in right front of her. Hana beats the daylights out of Takumi, she repeatedly hit him in the head over and over and although he says it no longer bothers him, he remembers it like it happened yesterday. Hana completely forgot about this. (Hana support)

He pretends not to hear people when he’s busy, hoping they’ll pick up on it. (Hana support)

He would feel awkward if hana tried to make it up to him for beating him to a pulp, but he appreciates the sentiment. (Hana support)

He doesn’t smile often and surprises people when he actually does. (Hana support)

Every time he sees Hana, he gets a strange look on his face, then he immediately and quickly heads in the opposite direction. Takumi says this is because he was worried she’d beat him up again and that it was for self preservation. (Hana support)

He enjoys teasing women he likes. (Hana support)

When Takumi was young, he used to snuggle a doll while he slept, although he denies ever doing so. (Orochi support)

Takumi and Sakura used to play with dolls together when they were children. (Orochi support)

He may be prickly on the outside, but he has a soft heart. (Orochi support)

Orochi babysat Takumi when he was a child and changed his diapers. (Orochi support)

He actively conquers his fears. (Orochi support)

He hid under his bed as a child, saying there were monsters in his closet, the cellar, and thetoilet. He came running to Orochi, asking her to hold his hand and he even managed to scare Orochi herself. (Orochi support)

He doesn’t like it when people bring up embarrassing things he did as a child and he tells Orochi if she keeps doing it, he’s going to lose his mind so he avoids her. (Orochi support)

He used to be really short as a kid, but he’s grown to be quite tall. (Orochi support)

He wants to be treated like the man he is. (Orochi support)

He wants someone to care enough about him to want to become close with him. He wants someone to know him well enough to tease him. (Orochi support)

He doesn’t mind having a dominant partner, but he likes to be the one on top every now and then. (Orochi support)

He’s stubborn. (Hinoka support)

He doesn’t want to accept help from others, especially his siblings. He wants to figure things out on his own because he thinks they’re only pretending to care. (Hinoka support)

He thinks his siblings would be better off without him because he believes they see him as useless so he wishes they would just leave him behind. (Hinoka support)

He remembers very well how everyone felt when Corrin was taken away from them. (Hinoka support)

He uses traps when he goes hunting, but Setsuna is who gets caught in them most of the time. He is baffled at first, but then quickly becomes exasperated and angry. (Setsuna support)

He doesn’t understand how his sister puts up with Setsuna. (Setsuna support)

He sees Setsuna as unpredictable. (Setsuna support)

He didn’t realize Setsuna could have romantic feelings towards others. (Setsuna support)

Oboro makes Takumi’s ceremonial outfits and everyone compliments Takumi on his style when she does. (Oboro support)

It’s unlike Takumi to shower praise on others and Takumi is unaware that that is how some people see him. (Oboro support)

He knew almost since she first started working as his retainer that Oboro was interested in him. (Oboro support)

Hinata was in a fighting competition before while Takumi watched because he wasn’t allowed to fight since he was part of the royal family. Hinata completely dominated the event. (Hinata support)

Takumi enjoys watching Hinata fight, he thinks it’s awesome and it takes his mind off the war. (Hinata support)

Kiragi can make shots that even Takumi cannot pull off. (Kiragi support)

His son’s talent will surpass his own in no time. (Kiragi support)

He notes how Kiragi is very different than he was as a child because he is so obedient. (Kiragi support)

He envies his son’s skill. (Kiragi support)

He admits to his son that the only reason he criticized his form was because Kiragi makes archery look easy. Takumi puts himself down, apologizing for being such a petty, terruble father and tells Kiragi he’s failed him. (Kiragi support)

He says that there are many great archers with skills superior to his own. (Kiragi support)

Kiragi says that Takumi is calm and cool no matter the situation, calling him amazing. (Kiragi support)

Takumi puts himself down again saying he;s not the incredible man Kiragi thinks he is because his archery skill is primarily due to Fujin Yumi’s power. His shots may appear to be perfect, but it’s not because of his actual ability. He only tries to be calm so that others will think he is coolheaded, but inside he calls himself a weak, anxious fool who cares too much about what others think of him. He says he’s the type of man who harbors feelings of envy towards his own son and then asks for Kiragi to forgive him while excusing himself to leave. (Kiragi support)

After Kiragi hears his father say so many bad things about himself, Kiragi sets out to prove that Takumi is more skilled than he thinks he is. Kiragi proves that you must be incredibly strong in order to use Fujin Yumi, not to mention strong minded to be able to will the arrows to appear, etc because the arrows will disappear again if your concentration breaks. Kiragi says it’s nearly impossible to hold the bow and concentrate at the same time. (Kiragi support)

Kiragi tries to get Takumi to repeat “I am an amazing person” in order to get Takumi to believe in himself more. (Kiragi support)

To Kiragi, Takumi is the coolest dad ever. (Kiragi support)

#fire emblem #fe #fire emblem fates #takumi #taco meat #fire emblem fates birthright #fire emblem fates conquest #fire emblem fates revelation #fire emblem if #fe fates #fe fates birthright #fe fates conquest #fe fates revelation #support conversation #support conversations #highlights #talk #pineapples are gay

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azuresquirrel · 7 years ago

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Have another episode of Snow Day Flash marathon! I’m breaking for now, maybe I’ll come back to it later today, but three episodes in one day is pretty darn good.

Episode Five - FRIENDSHIP IS TRAGIC

Why yes I do watch Barry’s “I’M AN ORDINARY 25-YEAR-OLD SUPERHERO” intro every single time despite Netflix trying its darnedest to make me skip it.

Barry’s monologuing about FRIENDSHIP while hanging in a bar with Team Science AND Iris (YAY!!!!! LET THEM BE FRIENDS!!!) so I hope this episode is ACTUALLY about friendship this time as opposed to last episode which was only sort of about htat.

Also White Bread is here and I AGREE BARRY, I ALSO DO NOT CARE FOR HIM.

CISCO ALSO DISAPPROVES. Caitlin thinks he’s hot because bland white guys with no personality is her type. We also learn that Barry has Steve Rogers’s problem with alcohol as in it doesn’t do shit for them anymore. Team Science is THRILLED to do another experiment in the bar because of course they are, also they’re great.

Break in at some skyscraper? With our first possible BadGIRL of the Week? Badgirl with a BOMB it seems.

Sorry team, you won’t be able to get your drink on for much longer because there are some window cleaners who need saving, AS ALWAYS. Pfffft, Barry is sadly lacking in the super strength department and Caitlin shoots down his great idea to pile up a shitload of mattresses. SO BARRY LEARNS HOW TO RUN UP THE SIDE OF A BUILDING WITHOUT GOING “SPLAT” ON THE WAY DOWN.

OH HI IRIS IS HERE. Barry pulls his face-vibration and speeds off and Iris is TOTALLY HOT RIGHT NOW (and also probably thinking of OTHER uses for face-vibration).

Next day, Joe and team is investigating what files bomb lady was trying to make off with. And frankly I’m pretty jealous of super-speed file-searching.

Oh great, now the military’s here. Countdown to secret military experiments starting now.

Now Papa Joe’s reaming Iris out for being at the crime scene the night before and like can we DROP this overprotective dad act already IT’S FUCKING OLD. Iris is all like “yeah fuck my boyfriend I’M HERE FOR THE GOTTA GO FAST MAN, I’VE GOT A SCOOP.”

Over at STAR labs Harrison drops his stalker act on the general who totally contracted STAR labs for “gene therapy research” a.k.a. SUPERSOLDER EXPERIMENTS GONE WRONG. And our Badgirl of the Week is of course an ex-army bomb specialist because of course she is. Her name’s Beth and she’s got some kind of Rogue-dealio going? And also looks like the poor man’s Felicia Day.

BARRY ENDS UP ALMOST NAKED LIKE ANY PROPER COMIC BOOK FETISH FUEL.

R.I.P. BARRY’S SUIT. She touched it and it went KA-BOOM.

THIS IS A BETRAYAL CISCO WILL NOT ENDURE. “WHERE’S MY SUIT?????” Yes the grief will take time my son, but think of it as an opportunity to try out NEW fetish garments for Barry to wear! Look on the bright side!

So yeah, our pal Beth is a metahuman who literally makes the things she touches go BOOM. Everyone else is talking about this new development and this is what Cisco has to say: “But she blew up my suit!” “You have more!” “Okay, I have two more and I loved that one.”

CISCO IS OUT FOR REVENGE.

And Joe joins in on Team Science’s metahuman funtime, but also to YELL AT BARRY SOME MORE. For daring to LET IRIS KNOW A THING. GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD. Yes, talk your daughter out of pursuing her work and her passions. JESUS.

THIS IS GETTING INTO SOME STRAIGHT-UP GASLIGHTING TERRITORY AND IT’S NOT CUTE. IRIS DESERVES BETTER THAN THIS. I AM NOT A HAPPY PERSON RIGHT NOW.

Barry’s now on the trail for the army surgeon who worked on Ms. Kaboom. But of course Ms. Kaboom is there first all “YOU DID THIS TO ME!!!” Also the army is here trying to capture her because of course they are. Barry instead speeds her out of there offering to help her out via STAR labs.

So Team Science fills her in on the PA explosion and how apparently it combined with the schrapnel embedded in her so that’s why she makes things go kaboom (everyone gets these ~appropriate~ powers but I still don’t get how that translated in Barry getting GOTTA GO FAST).

Cisco has dropped his thirst for revenge upon seeing off-brand Felicia Day so apparently redheads are his type. Barry is also a redhead. Guys. (ehhhh reddish-brown. CLOSE ENOUGH.)

Caitlin tends to Ms. Kaboom setting her up for experiment but instead finds the TRACKER that the army put in her so of course General Clancy Brown shows up to be an ass. He also hilariously calls Harrison an “idealist.” YEP, THIS GUY. IDEALIST.

The rest of Team Science sprints Ms. Kaboom out to the middle of nowhere so she can blow up Frisbees, then she gets her Rogue Angst on and questions how much they’re helping Barry or her. It’s interrupted by Joe calling up and CONTINUING TO BE A SHITTY DAD WHO WANTS TO OPRESS HIS DAUGHTER’S LIFE. THIS IS BEYOND OLD.

Blah Blah Blah, Iris has put her name to her blog ~she might be targeting by metahumans~ blah blah blah.

So of course THE FLASH appears to Iris and yeah this is TOTALLY going to convince her to stop writing given how HOT she is right now.

“Help me save my friend” Iris says not knowing that SHE’S SAYING IT TO THAT VERY FRIEND! DRAMA!!!!

Back to STAR labs for depressing lifetime as a human bomb diagnosis because CELLULAR LEVEL because comic science does whatever we want it to do. Barry wants to make THE SUPERFRIENDS and for Ms. Kaboom to be friend #1. Everyone else is skeptical due to 1. Army and 2. explosions. BARRY JUST WANTS SOME MORE FRIENDS YOU GUYS!!!!

Pffffffffft Barry has a good laugh over how he can VIBRATE HIS VOCAL CHORDS TO CHANGE HIS VOICE. What a good nerd. Barry makes the WACKY suggestion to Joe that he just tell Iris everything. This of course turns into the “YOU’RE TOTALLY IN LOVE WITH IRIS” conversation.

Oh no, Ms. Kaboom is left ALONE in the lab with Harrison THAT’S NOT GREAT (apparently Cisco went home so he DOES have a home). And yeah, he pulls his I WANT TO GET BACK EVERYTHING I LOST (that he didn’t actually lose, god), and is pulling his Emperor Palpatine moves on Ms. Kaboom. “GIVE IN TO THE DAAAAAAARK SIIIIIIIIIIIDE” a.k.a. kill General Clancy Brown. NO ONE SHOULD BE LEFT ALONE WITH HARRISON.

So we’re at riverside showdown of American military propaganda and stupid ass General Clancy Brown shoots Beth and of course she dies IMMEDIATELY BEFORE SHE CAN TELL BARRY THAT HARRISON TOLD HER TO DO THIS. Also she’s going to totally explode.

AND SO BARRY LEARNS HOW TO BE JESUS AND RUN ON WATER.

I feel it’s pertinent to note that Barry’s doing all of this Flash business literally just to help people and yet he ends up with a large number of DEAD PEOPLE. Can’t this poor boy catch a break?

“Powerful men have a way of avoiding consequences” says Harrison who somehow is not immediately struck by lightning after saying that.

Iris just wants Barry to tell her WHAT’S REALLY GOING ON WITH HIM. He of course will not do so and I am not happy.

“I’m totally over my family,” HE SAYS LIKE A LYING LIAR WHO LIES.

And Iris can’t stop won’t stop, ATTA GIRL.

So Barry pulls the “maybe we shouldn’t see each other for a while.” THAT’S A DICK MOVE, BARRENCE. Yes you’re depressed about Beth getting all murdered by the army and NOT HAVING THE BEST HELPING TRACK RECORD but don’t take it out on Iris!

Caitlin cheers him up with SUPER-ALCOHOL THAT CAN GET HIM DRUNK. For like fifteen seconds anyway. Caitlin’s a true friend.

WE’RE CLOSING THE EPISODE WITH A SLOW ARTSY TRAILER COVER OF “I RAN” BY FLOCK OF SEAGULLS. I’M LAUGHING.

And YES we are back to our weekly Crazy Ex Boyfriend Harrison check-in as we should. Evil General Clancy Brown is here to visit because he knows that Harrison is full of it and offers to work together on metahumans, and Harrison is all too happy to threaten to literally end him. Evil General Clancy Brown says he’s figured out Harrison’s secret and it won’t take long for the public to catch on too. We then flash back to how their original partnership ended. Which of course had to do with GRODD. BECAUSE WHY WOULDN’T IT.

So the theme of this episode is BARRY ISN’T ALLOWED TO HAVE MORE THAN THREE FRIENDS and also that IRIS IS DEFINITELY TOO GOOD FOR ALL OF THIS CONDESCENDING MANIPULATIVE BULLSHIT.

#Azuresquirrel Watches The Flash #RIP in peace original Flash suit #this show needs more slow artsy trailer covers of songs about running

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idonthaterunning · 7 years ago

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New to running? Step 2.

Choose your support squad.

In a effort to be completely honest with you, my dear reader, I am not always super great at this step.

However, despite my shortcoming in this step, this step is extremely important because your support squad is going to be a determining factor in your success.

You might be wondering, but Mary, you said running is a personal thing. That the only thing that matter during a race is you.

Well, reader, you are right. I did say that. But taking care of yourself isn’t always something you can do alone. We need support squads. Support squads might not be running the race for you but they sure as hell are the reason you are out there in the first place.

You’re support squad doesn’t always come to watch your races and physically cheer for you, but sometimes they do.

Your support squad are the people who cheer you on, even when your not running. Especially when your not running.

These people can be your amazing boss who tells you how proud of you she is, and it means more to you than you realize. She gets up at 4 am just to send you a message before your race. (okay, maybe not JUST to send a message, but still. It counts.)

There people can be your coworkers who has steps-challenges with you and talk about nutrition with you. They will share their veggies with you and offer to teach you how to use free weights because they are tough and you are scared.

They could also be your grad school friends who have inspired you to get moving and leave cheerful notes on your facebook page, while they go out and kick butt on their own.

There will be people who physically can’t be at your race, but will track your run through apps like RaceJoy and cheer you on when you start to slow down, or every time you pass a mile marker.

Most definitely those support people are like, your best friend who comes to your first race in the freezing cold and buys you flowers even thought you don’t think you deserve them.

It’s the people that say congratulations to you afterwords and really mean it!

It’s the other runners out there giving you their best advice and support.

These people are all important. It is important to know that you also choose who these people are. You choose who you share your runs with, or you success with. You choose who gets to revel in your victories and cheer you through defeats.

Some people are just not good support people. Some people say they will be there but choose not to show up. Some people say they will support your new lifestyle habits of running every other day and eating right, but then they give you grief for being so busy running and why you don’t eat junk with them anymore. Some people will think your new habit is a fade and won’t take you seriously. Some people will think that you can’t succeed.

So, reader, it is important to know how to deal with these people. There are three easy steps you can follow to.... 1. information diet - if you find that someone wants to know what you are doing but then is shitty about it. Tell them nothing.

Example.

Mean Person: “How is your running going?”

you: “Good. I hit a rough patch and my knee has been bothering me but i think it is worth it.”

Mean Person: “Running is terrible, literally no one should ever run. It is so bad for you. look you are already having knee problems.”

you: “okay. I mean i can take care of this knee issue pretty easily.”

Mean Person: “I doubt it, you are probably going to have a billion dollars of medical debt *rambles about other things.*

Turn that into -

Mean Person: “How is your running going?”

You: “Good.”

Mean Person: “Ugh isn’t that just a waste of time? Don’t you miss (thing we did together but might not have been healthy or you didn’t like)?”

You: “No”

2. Fake it till you make it. The old grad school saying. In all honesty, faking that your a runner isn’t weird.

Faking it includes; doing your weekly runs, drinking water, reading about running, taking care of yourself.

Being a running includes; doing your weekly runs, drinking water, reading about running, taking care of yourself.

What makes you a runner isn’t your time. It isn’t the medals. It isn’t the people saying “congratulations.” The simple act of running is what makes you a runner.

Got it?

You might not feel like a runner because you are slow and flabby. But you know what, a lot of runners are slow. My last 5k I passed a woman in her 70s who was running really slow, but you better believe I had so much respect for that woman because she was a serious committed runner.

When someone tells you that you aren’t a runner, or your body isn’t cut out for running, or that your have a funny gait, or you have high arched feet, or that your breasts are too big to be a runner, or that genetics are preventing you from being a runner, remind yourself that you went out and ran, thus you are a fucking runner.

3. Cut shitty people out of your life, or at least your running life.

This one sounds harsh. Yeah. Maybe it is.

However, some people are not interested in supporting you. So don’t expect them to. Don’t ask them to. Don’t be let down when they don’t support you.

That person doesn’t deserve to be a part of your running life. A woman on the internet just told a story about how she dropped 9 minutes from a race on the same course from the year before! Which is amazing. For some people dropping 9 minutes is like dropping a whole mile from your course. (Those people are not me, 9 minutes for me is 3/4 of a mile.) However, when she told her parents, they didn’t care. Like they literally assumed her medal was a participation trophy....(and while yes...maybe it is...it was a LOT of hard work to get).

Just because someone is your parent, lover, best friend, coworker,...whatever, doesn’t mean they will want to support you. If someone doesn’t want to support you. Just say “Bye, Felicia” to them in your running life.

#how to be a runner #step 2 #new runner #newbie #blogging about running #raceJoy #c25kgraduate #c25k #5k #3.1 at 31 #be amazing #you are amazing

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purecerealkids · 7 years ago

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Alphabet Tag

I was tagged by both @straykidshizzle and @cinnagyeom-roll. Thank you lovelies~ 💚

A. Age: 19, almost 20 (guys I’m on my last month and a half of teenagehood help)

B. Birthplace: Tennessee, USA

C. Current time: 4:38 P.M. EST

D. Drink you last had: Water . . . yeah I’m pretty boring.

E. Easiest person to talk to: Shoot, there’s so many people. Either @cinnagyeom-roll, @catthepumpkinqueen, or @adventuringavacado.

F. Favorite song: Um . . . All of them? The song I’ve been listening to the most often recently is probably “For You” or “Placebo”, both by 3RACHA.

G. Grossest memory: I’ve never been asked this. I mean I say gross anytime I talk about my old crushes, does that count?

H. Hogwarts house: OKAY SO I used to always say I was Ravenclaw, but I took the Pottermore quiz like two days ago and got Hufflepuff. I don’t feel like I’m nice enough to be a Hufflepuff, but I probably have too many crazy emotions for a Ravenclaw. I don't know man.

I. In love: Um . . . do my biases count? If not then no. Relationships are so stressful omg

J. Jealous of people: Who isn't honestly? I have like -1247 self confidence, so I’m generally jealous of others’ bodies and talents. It’s a problem.

K. Killed someone: By door slamming them and never speaking to them again? Maybe. I’m too conflict avoidant to do something that would get me in trouble with the law. That’s probably good, though.

L. Love at first sight, or should I walk by again?: You should just keep walking away like why are you flirting with me bye Felicia

M. Middle name: Brooke (Another one I just wanna answer: MBTI type: INFJ)

N. Number of siblings: Zero unless you count the dog. (Honestly, she gets more attention than I do so . . .) Fun fact: I’ve always wanted a brother who’s three years older than me.

O. One wish: Tbh, I just wanna be healthy and have harmonious relationships.

P. Person you last called: @adventuringavacado

Q. Question you’re always asked: Is your hair naturally curly? So . . . can you actually understand [K-pop]? How much Korean do you know? What do you wanna do after you graduate? Are you sure you’re from the South? (For the people not from the US: The South is known for having a certain, very thick accent. I do not have this accent [and honestly most of the younger generation doesn’t]. I go to college/uni in the North and literally everyone is surprised I’m from the South because I don’t have a Southern accent.)

R. Reason to smile: OT9! . . . okay but seriously I have some amazing friends in my life. They’re very silly and keep me smiling and remind me of what’s important when I’m blinded by emotions and anxiety. They’re also extra af bless them

S. Song you last sang: “Hey” by GOT7

T. Time you woke up: 7 A.M. cuz I had a linguistics exam at 8 A.M. Would not recommend😓

U. Underwear color: Uh . . . lemme check . . . . light blue. Literally the only thing that I’m wearing that’s not black.

V. Vacation destination: Seoul, Hong Kong, or Tokyo. I also kinda wanna go to Australia, but I feel like something would kill me because I am frail and also scare easily.

W. Worst habit: Comparing myself to others in every single way 🙃

X. X-rays: I think I’ve had like three my whole life. One was a chest x-ray for asthma. One was for my wrist when another kid in my class kicked it when I was going down a slide. One was for my arm when I fell off an inflatable bounce house. Probably should’ve gotten one on my leg recently but it’s fiiiine.

Y. Your favorite food: 고추장 삽겹살 I don’t know to explain this in English honestly. Just copy and paste it into google. Best explanation I got is spicy pork belly.

Z. Zodiac sign: Aquarius (Western)/Tiger (Chinese)

Oh shoot I almost forgot to tag people. Ummmm @helluhvator, @leader-chan, @catthepumpkinqueen, and @adventuringavacado. Why not? Have fun you guys~

#alphabet tag #not kpop

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kurtwarren54 · 5 years ago

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Family Beach Portraits for the Holidays

This past month my parents came out to visit us for about 10 days. They live on the East Coast so it’s always VERY special to have them spend time with us, my sister’s family, and most importantly all the little grandkids. I mentioned to my Dad that I would love to organize some family photos when they were in town since it’s not often we are all together and he instantly said he was excited. My dear friend Felicia who shoots all of our special family moments came to meet us in Laguna Beach at sunset. It’s great because my sister, husband, and their 2 kids know Felicia as well so there is a nice comfort level there.

I joked with my Sister before the shoot that I had to plan all the kids outfits because her kids are older and independent and love to dress themselves. I figured if it was left up to them, they might show up in a Spiderman hoodie which is normally adorable but I wanted to try to curate the photos a bit so thankfully she indulged me and let me dress them. Well, I should say thankfully Jacob and Xander (my nephews) let me dress them! (these are the sweaters they wore) Everyone pretty much wore blues or neutrals. This way we would blend together without being super matchy matchy and blend in well with the beach scenery.

This golden hour was spend playing in the sand and following the kids around. I just love seeing Otis with his cousins. They all love to play together and I could just cry (happy tears) watching them hold hands on the sand together. Was particularly special getting these photos of all the grandkids and my parents. The last photo of Otis and my parents and his big smile!!! But seriously, who is having more fun? My Dad or Otis? I can’t even decide what photo of frame because I love them all. Also, how much do you love the photo of Lola jumping up to kiss Otis. HEART MELT.

HOW TO TAKE GREAT BEACH FAMILY PORTRAITS

LEAVE YOUR SHOES IN THE CAR

I know you matched your outfit perfectly with your shoes, but trust me, leave your shoes in your car. Don’t risk getting them wet in the water. My whole families shoes got soaked. Except for Blake, Otis and I because we weren’t wearing any.

BEAT THE CROWDS, TAKE PHOTOS ON A WEEKDAY

I know it might not be possible to take photos on a weekday depending on your families work schedules, but if you can, PLEASE schedule your photoshoot on a weekend. When we took our photos, we went on a Saturday not thinking how crowded it would be. There was literally at least 5 other (probably more) photoshoots going on at the same beach we were at. Basically everyone was taking their family portraits for their holiday cards this weekend. If a weekday isn’t an option, try for a Sunday night. Hopefully everyone will be prepping for the new week and not on the beach for a photoshoot.

SHOW UP ON TIME

Make sure you google Sunset times before you schedule your shoot and be mindful if you are in a cove and might lose the sun sooner. To be on the safe side, we showed up 1 hour before Sunset. Nothing is worse than losing the light when you get your whole family out the door to take photos.

DRESS APPROPRIATELY

Hey, maybe your vibe is a princess dress on the beach. Do you. Live it up. But remember that as the sun goes down, it usually ends up getting colder. This is why I opted for sweaters and long sleeves for everyone (my dad chose his own adventure and doesn’t easily get cold) to make sure no one would get chilly in the middle of photos.

PICK A COLOR FAMILY FOR YOUR FAMILY

I talked about this in my post sharing tips and tricks for Pumpkin patch photos. It’s great for the colors to seamless blend together when it comes to your outfits in family photos. It’s also nice when things match but aren’t too perfect. I decided to go with a blue and neutral palette since it would blend really well with the Ocean and sky. What is also nice is that I knew all the boy would have blue or gray jeans in their closets all ready so it would be very easy to match those colors to the pants they already had. I sent Blake to Old Navy to find all 3 of the cousins tops that would blend together. The last thing you want is everyone wearing neutrals and one person showing up in a bright red sweater. Not the cutest to have 1 person really sticking out color wise. Trust me, blend those colors baby and keep it simple by picking one main color and balancing it with other neutrals.

BRING A CAMERA SAVY FRIEND OR PHOTOGRAPHER WITH YOU

Not everyone has the luxury of hiring a photographer for their family photos. But that doesn’t mean you can’t get the most beautiful memories and equally amazing photos. If you know you want to do someone, ask a close friend to join you for some sunset photos. Pay them in wine, beer, restaurant gift cards to make it worth their time? Do what you have to do to get someone there that is dedicated to snapping shots of you. The trouble with asking someone on the fly is you never know what you will get. Also not for nothing, my iphoneXS max takes the most epic photos so even having a close friend that is great with their iphone can capture such a sweet memory for your family.

GO WITH THE FLOW

As always, family photos are sometimes so seamless and easy and other times lots of tears can be shed… adults included. HA! Manage your expectations with kids, bring some snacks to keep them happy, and never underestimate throwing a song on your smart phone as a mood lifter!!

Kim’s outfit // sweater: aritzia / jeans: jbrand

Otis’ outfit // top: old navy / jeans: h&m kids / hat: h&m kids

Cousin’s outfits // sweaters from old navy

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elizabethcariasa · 5 years ago

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Family Beach Portraits for the Holidays

HOW TO TAKE GREAT BEACH FAMILY PORTRAITS

LEAVE YOUR SHOES IN THE CAR

BEAT THE CROWDS, TAKE PHOTOS ON A WEEKDAY

SHOW UP ON TIME

DRESS APPROPRIATELY

PICK A COLOR FAMILY FOR YOUR FAMILY

BRING A CAMERA SAVY FRIEND OR PHOTOGRAPHER WITH YOU

GO WITH THE FLOW

Kim’s outfit // sweater: aritzia / jeans: jbrand

Otis’ outfit // top: old navy / jeans: h&m kids / hat: h&m kids

Cousin’s outfits // sweaters from old navy

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The post Family Beach Portraits for the Holidays appeared first on eat.sleep.wear. - Fashion & Lifestyle Blog by Kimberly Lapides.

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artsynanotech · 7 years ago

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Another Damn Murder Mystery, Part 1: Blood is Thicker than Water

I have a problem. Scratch that; I have *several* problems. But what else is new? I mean, it’s not like things could stay quiet. Goodness no we can have that. The universe might damn well implode if my existence stayed stable. Problem number one: my sister. I have a younger sister, Sarah. There’s a twelve year age difference there, and I *think* she should be in her first year of grad school. I know that’s what she was planning to do anyway. I used to check out her facebook every so often to see what she’s been up to, but I’ve gotten out of the habit in the past couple years. Last I knew she was holding a steady 4.0 at NYU. But the problem isn’t what she should be doing of course. It’s what she *is* doing, which is currently being babysat by one of my ghouls because she thought now would be a *great* time to reconnect with her dearest big brother. Somebody stake me. Don’t get me wrong, I love my sister. When I was still breathing I would have done anything to build a relationship with her. But Sarah had friends, boyfriends, you know… a social life. And I was her boring, uncool older brother with no concept of what it meant to be social. It didn’t help that by the time she started middle school I was already in college. Then came grad school, then Julian, and by the time he was through with me I thought any chance of reconnecting with my family was shot. I never bothered trying to fake my death or anything like that. I thought no one would ever come looking for me. Guess I was wrong.

So yeah. She shows up at my door last night, dressed like some sort of scene kid metalhead reject, all smiles and hugs, acting like there hadn’t been almost ten years of no contact between us. Apparently when I’d asked Charlotte to check up on Julian all those months back she called Sarah, and from there Sarah figured out I was still kicking around here in DC. I gave her my debit card and told her to find a nice hotel for the night while I figured out how the hell to deal with this. Which brings us to problem two: Carloline’s in trouble. I don’t know what exactly happened, but she woke up tonight in a storage closet at a parking garage, covered in blood, in clothes she hadn’t dressed in earlier, with the withered corpse of a dead kindred beside her. She’d sent us all a text she didn’t remember sending, just saying “help.” Michella, Felicia and I all went to her apartment first and she wasn’t there, so we all tried calling and got no response. Eventually she did call us back and Michella got her to turn on her phone’s GPS so we could track her down. When we got there Caroline looked fine, thank god, but that doesn’t change the fact that she woke up next to a dead kindred. Oh, and to add to all this, Michella’s got this gray skinned monster thing following her around that her sire apparently grew in a lab. Its body is human enough, but its skin and eyes are obviously not. It’s some kind of bodyguard, I think? In any case it’s a masquerade breach waiting to happen. Michella calls it William. Felicia, Michella, and I looked around the room for a bit to try to figure out what exactly might have happened. Someone had obviously chowed down on the dead kindred; his entire neck was shredded and there wasn’t a drop of blood left in him. No one said it out loud, but we were all thinking it: diablerie. What I can’t figure out is why Caroline would do something like that. And if she did, how could she not remember it? Michella found a pendant around the corpse’s neck. I tried Spirit’s Touch on it and what I got was… was overwhelming. And terrifying. Things started out okay. I saw the image of a beautiful woman, felt love and affection for her, and then the scene changed to two men who exerted a fierce, palpable animosity. I felt the sensation of running, then this overwhelming all-consuming fear as something I can only describe as a psychic manifestation of someone’s beast chased me down. I’ve never felt fear like that before, not even when I was staring down Julian’s Tszimizce war form. The vision didn’t so much end as I forced it to stop, by throwing the pendant across the room. Worst of all, looking at Caroline afterwards triggered the same fear I’d felt in the vision. Christ, I hope she didn’t do this. I tried to see if she’d truly diablerized the corpse, but I couldn’t get anything out of her aura. I was so damn stressed I couldn’t focus at all. Caroline suggested we try asking Ares if he could contact the corpse’s spirit at all. I called him and he got to the parking garage as fast as he could, but apparently since the corpse was kindred he couldn’t do anything. Apparently our souls just disappear when we die, as opposed to humans who have a place to go afterwards. I feel terrible for wasting his time like that. He’d already had to put up with my sister earlier (yes, he was there when she showed up and helped get to a hotel). He assured me things like this are fine, but I still think I ask too much of him.

Next order of business was to clean up the scene and get the hell out. Felicia and Ares moved the corpse into Are’s trunk. Felicia found a key on the floor when they did so, so she gave that to me to try my spirit’s touch on later. Next, we all piled into his car to head to Michella’s. We dropped off the three girls there. Ares and I got some heavy duty cleaners from my studio and headed back to the garage to clean up the room. Actually cleaning it was a disaster – Ares spilled the chemicals by accident – but at least no one would be able to tell what happened there. We packed up our things and headed home for the night. When I woke up this evening I tried to get a read on the key Felicia gave me. I saw an image of the same woman as before, a warehouse in an area I didn’t recognize, and picked up the names “Hooper” and “Sash.” I texted those to the girls, then went about seeing to my sister. Which brings me to problem number three: My finances are now absolute shit. I woke up to several missed calls. Most from Sarah, and one from my credit card company. Thankfully they still had someone available to take a return call. Not only had Sarah charged her hotel to my card, but she also bought clothes and makeup and drinks. I told the credit card company they were all fraudulent charges and told them to cancel that account. And it only gets better from there! I went to the hotel Sarah was supposed to be at, only to find out she’d been kicked out for excessive noise complaints. She was only there a night! Then I got a call from the police – Sarah had tried to run away from a cab when my credit card was declined, run headfirst into a pair of police officers, then tried to beat them over the head with her lunchbox.

My sister, everyone. I would like to make clear that she was *not* this… spirited, I suppose, when I last saw her. But then I wasn’t around much so maybe I just didn’t notice. Either way I had to go to the police station and post bail for her, which emptied my bank account and maxed out my remaining credit card. And you know what she said? “It’s fine. Your boyfriend’s rich, right?” As if it’s Ares responsibility to put up with her just because she’s my sister. As if the problem here isn’t her own damn reckless behavior. Christ, I don’t even know how I’m gonna make that money back. I still have bills to pay this month… Sarah actually had the nerve to call me out for being upset, too! After all, I was the one who went and disappeared for almost a decade. So clearly I didn’t care about her that much. Her lack of self-awareness was staggering. I may have disappeared, but she sure as hell never went of her way to find me. I asked her why she bothered to visit at all. We weren’t close, no matter how much I wanted to be. Well apparently she’d gotten into a fight with our parents and, instead of finding a friend or someone to stay with, she travels all the way from New York to DC because she thinks I’ll understand what she’s going through. Really? Our parents aren’t the most attentive, I’ll give her that, and my relationship with them had always been distant, but I was never at odds with them like she apparently is. Ugh. I can’t sort this out now. I sent her to stay with Charlotte – this is pretty much Charlotte’s fault anyway – while I help Caroline with her situation. I made plans to talk with Sarah early tomorrow evening, and made her promise not to tell Mom and Dad about me. She wanted to know why, and then asked why we couldn’t meet during the day. I just told her it was for her own good, and she’d need to trust me. I hope Charlotte can come up with a better reason. She damn well better or I don’t know what I’m going to do. So now I’m off to Michella’s, to help Caroline, and hopefully not be too useless. We’ll see how that goes.

#IC #Session recap

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saltyobjecttheorist · 7 years ago

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Close Reading ‘The Path’ Season 1 Episode 1.

This is not really a recap. More of a series of observations regarding the storytelling, symbolism, and subliminal foreshadowing in The Path.

I’m not an academic and this may all be obvious stuff to you guys but the show made an impression on me for its use of visual symbolism. I thought I’d start at the beginning but I’ll be referencing future plot lines and episodes. There is a LOT of foreshadowing in this series, appropriate given that prophesy is a major theme and I will be talking about what is being foreshadowed. so if you haven’t watched both seasons you might want to stay away from spoilers.

For more erudite discussion of symbolism on the show please see the wonderful @theyellowsnake who says all perfectly.

So The First Episode of Season one of the The Path is pretty much the perfect Pilot. It sets the scene and leaves you hungry for more.

There is a little too much exposition in there . But it also, almost subliminally, tells you everything you need to know about… Well… Everything. Every twist, every character, every hidden agenda is right there in the pilot. If you’re looking closely enough.

SPOILERS from here on in folks. For both Season 1 and 2.

Intro Scene: Rindge Trailer Park.

The Trailer Park. Symbol of American poverty, destroyed by a literal act of God.

The ‘ Church of Faith’ sign, Church destroyed, useless and empty

The Schoolbus on its side destroyed.

Both Church and School as institutions have failed this society, a ruined society as symbolised by the trailer park. They are unable to offer sanctuary or comfort to these people. They have not been able to fulfil their purpose. IE. to prevent people from sliding to the bottom of the economic and spiritual ‘ladder’ in the first place.

A woman clutches her baby and literally cries “Somebody help me!” Into the chaos. “Oh God!”

We meet Mary. Crawling through the trash. She looks for water and finds antifreeze or similar poison. She tries to drink again from a pipe and someone stops her, that water is also poison.

Poisoned water is a huge part of the Book of Revelation in regard to the Apocolypse.

“ Revelation 8:11

The name of the star is Wormwood. A third of the waters turned bitter like wormwood oil, and many people died from the bitter waters.”

We hear the sound of Horns. Like the horns of angels at Armageddon. ( Also Revelation 8-11) It’s no wonder Mary later compares Cal to an angel.

Mary climbs the garbage heap. Metaphorically this is the start of he rise from the ashes of her old life. As well as an early climbing metaphor. She sees Cal from the top of the trash mountain. This is their first moment of connection. Even though he doesn’t see her. Something about him is compelling to her.

Here come the Meyerists into this apocalyptic scene. But to them it’s no metaphor. They believe the end times are really coming. The Tornado is, for them, a real harbinger of doom.

Its a curious thing that when institutions fail people. When the Law, Healthcare, Schools and Church fail to provide what they should. That is when religious cults step in to fill the gap. This is well illustrated here.

Mary gets what she needs the most at the at moment. Not water (she barely drinks it). She gets her salvation, her Angel. We don’t know yet that she’s been waiting for him since she was a little girl.

The Woman with the baby gets her prayer answered.

“What do you need’? Cal asks the shocky old man. He wants the picture of his wife- all he has left of her memory. Cal doesn’t try to get him to calm down. Or lead him away from the carnage like an EMT would. “Help this man find his wife!” He shouts, as though its the most important thing he can imagine. Because he knows in a spiritual sense , it really is. In that moment the old man needs that scrap of paper more than water or medical care.

The Meyerist eye is prominent. They “See” the people’s need. “Need” is often reference thought the series. “There is so much Need!” the characters say repeatedly. The Church, the School, the Hospitals, the Society itself have all metaphorically failed us.

We ( humans) are let down in a spiritual sense by religion that offers no real substance, physically by bad or absent food and medicine, mentally by a schooling system that doesn’t educate the whole person. The list goes on. The Meyerists think they are the answer to this very real need. In this way the show is quite a scathing social commentary.

As a viewer I’m subconsciously pumping my fist in the air saying “ Yay Cult!” Although I don’t even realise how I’m being manipulated yet.

Animated Credits Scene:

Four figures climb a mountain, presumably this is an interpretation of Meyerism’s origin myth and the figures are Steve, Silas, Felicia and Bill. With Steve reaching enlightenment at the summit of Huayna Picchu.

But there is an alternative interpretation:

Look at the placements of the credits:

The close up of the climbing figure’s hands as he struggles up the rocks in the rain remind you of anything? Mary’s climb up the garbage heap visually mirrors the climb in the intro.

Emma Greenwell - Mary’s real name.

This is not an easy climb. Its a struggle. The man makes it to the top, stands at the summit and raises his arms in victory. He made it.

Hugh Dancy Cal’s real name.

The figure could just as easily be Cal, who, like Mary ( except in a more metaphorical sense), has struggled to the ‘top of the heap’ through his own personal suffering and stands victorious. Having finally made it into a position of power. This is one of many themes that connect Mary and Cal. (More on that later.)

We see The Future : Tornado -Fire - Flood.

A Tornado ( the one that levels the trailer park.) Is the opening of Season 1.

There is a prominent flash of lightning. Which is perhaps a portent to the lighting that scars Eddie and kills Steve.

The Fire ( Richard’s self immolation and burning of records room) closes Season 2.

The Flood… Could be foreshadowing of season 3. It seems to wash away the structure of the burning building. Much like the water scandal coverup helped wash away Sarah’s trouble regarding the blackmail ( using tapes Richard set on fire in same building).

Or it could be a symbolic flood washing away the movement forever?

We see the barns, the compound growing in size and number.

A figure running in room - Eddie in the therapy room?

Snake wrapped around Steve’s corpse. Open to interpretation as the Yellow snake symbolises psychic ability as well as betrayal in folklore. It also symbolises Cal at various points in the tale. (Hugh Dancy even starts to look snakelike toward the end of season 2.) A lot has been said on this elsewhere. It is perhaps not an accident that is portrayed wrapped so closely around Steve. Snakes are rarely positive symbols to a western audience. In a religious context we are reminded of the serpent in Eden. ( More on that later too.)

Speaking of Eden. Heres Adam and Eve. Or Eddie and Sarah or whichever archetype you choose. Accompanied by the name of the literal creator God of this particular universe: Jessica Goldberg. have I mentioned that I love symbolism?

Scene: Dinner at The Lanes:

Lane means Path… Glad thats out of the way. Now on to saying grace.

“Thank you for this gift of bread to sustain these vessels, our bodies, so that we may have the energy to create a more beautiful world and break through our blocks and barriers in this life and ascend the ladder of enlightenment so that someday we may be free of these earthly forms and live as light together in the garden. We express deepest gratitude for this day, and every day, for the gift of this passage, and that we found the ladder. There is one spirit whose name is Truth.”

So this sums up their whole belief system in a few seconds and its great because the show doesn’t hammer you over the head with the basic tennants every five minutes after that. they just assume you get it. It also has beauty and a sinister undertone, lets never forget that they’re a doomsday Cult.

But lets look closer:

“Give us this day our daily bread” says the Lords Prayer. The daily bread is just what sustains us for this day. Its the bare minimum of care, which so many people don’t get.

And whom we see in this comfortable scene, the Lanes have a comfortable life, if not extravagant. They have what they need. Their needs are met.

Have you guys heard of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs? it’s a motivational theory in psychology comprising a five tier model of human needs often depicted as hierarchical levels within a pyramid… Sound familiar?

Someone Like Mary doesn’t even have the lowest level of needs met. She couldn’t even get clean water. Her basic safely was compromised and she was terribly abused by the people who should have loved her.

Sarah has her Psysiological, Safely and Love/Belonging needs met. It’s debatable if at this point in the series she has fully achieved the Esteem level but she’s well on her way there being an 8R and well respected within the community. It’s the last level. Self- Actualisation, which is problematic for her (and all the characters). Because its the level no Cult can allow its members to reach. Particularly that pesky ‘ Acceptance of Facts’ one.

Eddie, upon his return from Peru is struggling with this level. With his own Self-Actualisation. He knows his Esteem needs are at odds with the truth. And while he lives a ‘Life of Lies’ he isn’t getting his needs met. He NEEDS to live an authentic life. Its the only thing he can do. His ‘path’ leads toward truth one way or another. Hence the great irony of the Meyerist creed: “There is one spirit whose name is Truth.” … That, at least, is a lie. The Truth in this series is multifaceted and subjective.

Cal pretends to be at the top ( of The Ladder and The Pyramid.) But he ascended in a dishonest way. Though nepotism, prostitution and maybe blackmail.

So while he struggles with morality, problem solving and the sad acceptance of facts he is also struggling with the Esteem level. He so desperately wants to be respected and he has no real confidence ( see his self help tapes for evidence.) And while he struggles with that he is also struggling with the Love/Belonging level. Because the one thing he really can’t have is intimacy. For reasons that later become clear. He is a lonely person. he has no real friends , no family and no sexual intimacy, ( he’s either a virgin or celibate when we meet him.) His image is one of a Self- Actualised leader. But he is living a lie. In truth he’s still a child desperate for safety.

In fact I speculate that the truth of the matter is that each Meyerist convert entered the Movement while struggling with Need. I think that If they left the movement they would revert back to the same point they entered it. Because the movement provides for them ( or should) but it doesn’t give them Self- Actualisation, which is what they need in order to be independent and masters of their own fate.

So we have the usual Exposotional Dinner Talk. we learn that Eddies just back from Peru. Cal is coming, Steve is writing and Russell is a useless asshole. Also that for a person to ascend the latter all the way they probably shouldn’t get married. Hawk isn’t old enough to start the Ladder yet and everyone feels bad about the tornado.

We like these guys, weird Peruvian drug trip religion aside they seem like our kind of people. (Except Joy though , she’s goddam annoying.) We find ourselves identifying with and liking members of a closed religious cult. This is quite an achievement for the writers.

Sex Scene 1:

Until the slip scene. because no one in history, male or female has ever been aroused by a slip.

The sex though. is it necessary? Not really… But yes really. Much like in real life, the way people fuck on this show tells us a lot about their emotional state. Its code for all the things they can’t say. If that happens to line up nicely with a networks desire for lots of sex on their show then… Cool I guess. Also. the eye is front and centre because Meyerism is at the centre of their personal life in an uncomfortably voyeristic way. No one has privacy in this place. Not really. There is a disturbing disrespect for boundaries within the extended Lane family and within Meyerism in general. and maybe cults in general too.

Eddie and Sarah are emotional sex havers. They laugh, they cry, they make eye contact. The whole things very uncomfortable for the viewer who may be watching with their parents, but very intimate. Contrast and compare:

Scene: Cal’s return:

Cal. The no sex haver who reunites with old flame Sarah. He pretends to be over it. He isn’t. She broke his heart by leaving him for Eddie when they were young. How young? We never know, Eddie and Sarah were likely in their mid- late teens when they Met. We don’t know how long Sarah and Cal were together or when they met.

Can we assume that they grew up on the compound together? I think so. Cal mentions to his mother on Episode 3 that, while they used to live in tents, they now have a campus. So he probably grew up there with Sarah, Russell and Tessa. But he’s been in California for three years happily avoiding the East Coast winters. ( he doesn’t like the cold because his drunken sot of a father did, in fact, keep him in a tent in the middle of winter.) Its perhaps worth noting here that he is returning to his childhood home. This is important because its where his neurosis re- surfaces. Its where his pain lives.

Anyway he meets Sarah, knows her well enough to see something wrong and immediately twists it to his advantage. Its the first, rather obvious , look at his manipulative personality. But he’s sincere when he says its good to see her. And that he’s going to “come stalk you , like old times.” He probably did too. hanging out with Eddie and Sarah to be close to her, or maybe to them both, for friendship but certainly with an agenda of infiltrating their relationship. Which is probably why Eddie doesn’t trust him. We don’t either. Because he’s always acting. Pretending to be someone he’s not ( Self- Actualised leader of men. ) We only rarely see glimpses of the real man beneath.

School: Hawk and Eddie scene.

No Symbolism here but I love the relationship between these two. Hawk is annoying in the way teenagers actually are annoying not in the way precocious “ Talk like adults with philosophy degrees” teenagers on TV usually are. Both he and Summer are excellently written in this respect. Eddie is a real dad, not a perfect dad. Just a guy who enjoys time with his kids. Hawk hates school. Didn’t we all?

Scene: Mary Sees Cal again/Conversation with Eddie:

So like so many scenes on this show , what appears to be a throwaway moment of filler is actually telling us something. While the music and stylised camera work distracts us from the dialogue between Cal and Eddie this is what they’re saying (according to the closed captions.)

Cal: “Hey, man, I’ll come join you later. Sit in on your testimonial.”

Eddie: “Oh, no. You don’t have to do that. Same old story. You’ve heard it a million times.”

Cal: “Are you kidding? I love your story.

Gets me fired up every time.”

Cal wants to sit in on Eddie’s testimonial, despite the fact that he’s heard it many times and its depressing as holy hell. Eddie would rather he didn’t. Why?

Skip ahead to Eddie telling his story. Interesting, isn’t it that we barely learn anything about Eddie’s life before Meyerism? So lets look at the facts. What do we know about Eddie Lane at this point?

He had an unhappy home life. We know this because he lived with his older brother instead of his parents ( The original script had a line about his mother being mentally ill which they later edited out, because I believe it would have made future twists too obvious. The subtext is still there.)

He loved his brother. His brother killed himself. Eddie Has. Not. Dealt. With. It. This is so clear. His own dialogue tells us this. He ran. Ran from the situation and straight into a cult.

He starts telling his story. His relationship with his brother was “the one thing he had.” And when he lost it he lost part of himself. He breaks down, he can’t finish the story. Meyerism didn’t heal this particular pain. Cal to the rescue!

“ Oh yeah and then you found us and it was all cool right?” He essentially says.

So Cal does probably step in here to help Eddie. But at the same time theres something censorious about it. He is clearly steering the story in a different direction than it was going? Something is missing from Eddies narrative. Perhaps the fact that he is still suffering, that despite the ladder, his brother’s death is still an open wound for him. ( This kind of adds a layer of creepy to Cal’s assertion that he “Loves him like a brother” Later on.) Also…What happened between ‘Discovered Johnny’s dead body’ and ‘ Ended up in a bookshop’?

Something smells fishy. But we are told enough to piece a few things together. There was some mental illness in his family, he doesn’t want to look too deeply at his past. He had a lot of anger. (When he arrived he was murderously angry. (We learn this later from Sarah.) That’s not what he looks like now though. Not at all. Meyerism’s victory or his own? Was Sarah his saving grace?

In a way Eddie is the biggest enigma on the show. Maybe even moreso than Steve.

Which brings us to…

Scene: Sarah talks about Steve.

And the fact that she thinks the light shines out of his ass. Literally.

So this is our first proper introduction to Steve:

We are told that he lives so deeply in truth that he is one with the Light. His followers believe him to be an ascended master of sorts and therefore an immortal spiritual being rather than just a man. and once again and one of many times… There is a dichotomy between what we are being told and what we are seeing. The sound and the visuals are often at odds on this show.

Because hanging behind her on the wall is a picture of a dude. A dude named Steve. and he’s handsome, charismatic looking I guess but just as prosaic as his name ( Which incidentally means’ Light Bringer’ in Hebrew.) . (He also has that same high collar, uptight shirt thing going on as Cal does.) This is one of may times that the placement of the Steve photo is telling us something.

Later Eddie reads to Summer from the junior edition of The Ladder. Whilst having a very confusing existential crisis.

And we learn about Steve’s past. What do we know about Steve?

He was a military doctor, who did terrible things to soldiers at a hospital. Had a crisis of confidence, lost his shit and took a very long walk… Also I dare anyone to say that isn’t Kodiak in the illustration.

Sooo… What do you guys know about Project MK Ultra?

From Wikipedia:

“Project MKUltra – sometimes referred to as the CIA’s mind control program – is the code name given to a program of experiments on human subjects, at times illegal, designed and undertaken by the United States Central Intelligence Agency.[1] Experiments on humans were intended to identify and develop drugs and procedures to be used in interrogations and torture, in order to weaken the individual to force confessions through mind control. Organized through the Scientific Intelligence Division of the CIA, the project coordinated with the Special Operations Division of the U.S. Army’s Chemical Corps.[2]

The operation began in the early 1950s, was officially sanctioned in 1953, was reduced in scope in 1964, further curtailed in 1967, and officially halted in 1973.[3] The program engaged in many illegal activities,[4][5][6] including the use of unwitting U.S. and Canadian citizens as its test subjects, which led to controversy regarding its legitimacy.[4](p74)[7][8][9] MKUltra used numerous methodologies to manipulate people’s mental states and alter brain functions, including the surreptitious administration of drugs (especially LSD) and other chemicals, hypnosis,[citation needed]sensory deprivation, isolation and verbal abuse, as well as other forms of psychological torture.”

Read more here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Project_MKUltra

Lovely.

So… You guys Steve was totally one of those mad scientists. Who tortured Vietnam soldiers to try an achieve mind control with drugs ( and also sarin gas and other agonizing tortures. This isn’t a bit of weed and a walk in the woods. These people were psychopaths of the highest order.)

Lets me just repeat that… To achieve mind control… With Drugs. Does this throw up any red flags for anyone else?

What else do we know about Steve? I mean FOR SURE He went to Peru and started a cult. Which used Ayahuasca and other drugs to induce hallucinatory states.

Manipulation into shared delusions? Maybe. Theres no doubt Felicia believes she burned her hands on a Burning Ladder of Truth. But her husband Bill reminds her that there was a bonfire… And that they were ‘Really High.” He wouldn’t have had to convince many people, just a handful, to engender belief in many.

Ok so lets give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that he did have an ethical crisis while working for the CIA… He still used drugs on people… Afterwards.

And then theres the trope of the Morally questionable doctor who runs to South America. Don’t tell me we’re not supposed to get slightly Megele-ish vibes from this guy.

Then we cut from Eddies Life of Lies directly to Cal’s life of lies:

Scene: Cal and Mary.

So this scene has a lot going on in it but I think the main takeaway the first time I saw it was that Cal was married to The Ladder. We’re not sure exactly how much he believes in it at this point or how much he’s manipulating Mary into becoming an acolyte. But upon Re-Watch… Oh boy.

So Cal doesn’t have personal relationships. Certainly not with newbies. So why does he go out of his way so much for Mary?

Well the thing is that she has now met her basic needs. Remember our pyramid of pop psychology?

So she’s no longer about to die, she’s physically safe, had a shower, has a place to stay. Now she wants a sense of love and belonging. Which she tries to get by the only means she knows. Sex. Boy did she ever pick the wrong guy.

Or did she?

Heres the thing. Cal is also stuck at this level. He and Mary have the same need. Officially there is a huge power disparity in the relationship and its highly inappropriate. He may be a leader and she may only be a possible. But under the skin they are both needful of the same thing and can’t ever get it because they’ve been damaged so badly. It’s doubtful that either of them will ever move beyond this need.

This scene tells us everything we need to know. Though the performances mostly. Theres a disturbingly childlike quality to both of them. Visually compounded by Mary’s little girl nightie and butterfly underpants.

When Cal gently rebuffs her advances, Dancy’s performance tells us a few things. (In interviews from Season 1 era He described Cal’s relationship with Steve as ‘Complicated.’ I’m sure they had the back story planned from the outset.)

For those into micro gestures. When he said the word ‘ Sex” he flinches and wrinkles his nose in disgust. There is a lot of barely repressed anger in that tiny moment. Because he understands Mary’s Damage. Really understands it. Unfortunately.

They are also reflected in the window, and refections of one another figuratively speaking. Which is why they both love and hate each other at various points. But never, ever do we get the feeling that they don’t understand one another.

Mary says “ All my life I’ve had this fantasy that one day an angel would fly down from the sky and save me.” She feels as though she is fulfilling her destiny. This may be the only time in her life that an authority figure hasn’t taken advantage of her.

At that point there is a moment of recognition, almost elation from Cal. That could be interpreted as religious fervour at having saved a soul. But I believe it’s meant to be identification, the discovery of a kindred spirit.

“We were meant to find each other.” He says. he doesn’t say “ You were meant to find us” or “the movement”. But “Each other.”

Where was his Angel? Who does he call an Angel later in the series?

“My colleague is a fucking angel.!” He tells John Ridge in episode 5 and to Sarah in Season 2 “I miss your light. The way you looked at me that saved me as a kid.” Suddenly his obsession with Sarah takes on a more tragic, if more disturbing angle. She was a ray of light in his otherwise miserable childhood. He sees her, we learn later, as a role model for what is good and right behaviour. What does this tell us about his other role models in the movement?

Scene: Eddie’s Retreat.

We see the retreat at the Cousco compound. Which appears to be a converted Spanish church. Interestingly a lot of Catholic imagery is associated with Eddie on the show. In the courtyard Silas is helping a bald dude, Miranda Frank is dancing, and Eddie is tripping balls.

Ayahuasca as a therapeutic substance helps people come to term with their past trauma. Causing them to re-live it. In a Arthur Janov “Primal Scream”, cleansing sort of way. They come out of the experience feeling reborn and with neurosis cured. It is not a particularly safe drug cocktail however. It can be an especially strong potential trigger for those predisposed to Bipolar Disorder, Schizophrenia, Dissociative Disorder and other psychosis.

So we can see what Eddie might not be having a particularly good trip, what with his past trauma and all. And unsurprisingly his brother comes back to haunt him. With a secret message. In the hallway to Steve’s room is an Owl sculpture.

Silas’ totem is an owl. Presumably this is his main hangout. As well as a shamanic symbol of wisdom the owl is a Gnostic symbol of demons, illness, disease and death. There are some oil painting on the wall which look like Steve might have painted them ( They look a bit like his ‘flowers’ from season 2.)

Heres the thing… Is Eddie experiencing a moment of genuine clairvoyance here? I thought at first it was all a drug trip and he hadn’t really moved from the courtyard. His brother’s ghost certainly leads him to the room. But…

Isn’t this compound actually where the movement is storing Steve? Could Eddie conceivably have wandered of while tripping and stumbled into Steve’s room? We do find out later that he literally got up and walked off somewhere for a while because Miranda Tells Cal so in Episode 4. Once again the truth is subjective but maybe less so if witnessed by more than one person. He also, quite possibly saw more rooms on the way.

Eddie sees a vision of Johnny twice more in the series. Once on the shore at Coney Island in S1 and once in his near death vision of the garden in S2. All three times Johnny is guiding him towards a major spiritual decision. But two out of the tree times Eddie was tripping on Ayahuasca. The time at the shore could be a genuine moment of psychosis, we don’t know. Eddie doesn’t either. It seems real to him, and he wasn’t expecting it.

Either way. He knows Steve isn’t a immortal ascended ball of light. And those extra rungs that were supposed to enable them to ascend to the garden ‘aint coming, and by extension Cal is lying to them all. Thats a lot of doubts for one day.

Scene: Eddie and Sarah fight:

The thing about Meyerists is that there supposed to be 100% honest at all times, as a result they are actually secretive as hell. Eddie lies repeatedly to Sarah during this scene, she assumes he’s sleeping with someone else, specifically Miranada Frank. , and he lets her think that because its less painful than the truth.

There is curious bit of dialogue here.

“ Sarah: All right, I love you, and I chose you.

Eddie: You chose me?

Sarah: I chose you.

Eddie: What do you mean, you chose me? Chose me over Cal? Is that what this is?

Sarah: No, no! That is not what I am saying.”

What does this tell us about their relationship? It’s important to her that she “Chose” him. But everyone chooses their partners right? I mean, unless they have an arranged marriage. and the Meyerists don’t… Do they? ( more on this later. I have a theory.)

In any event. She clearly feels that she took a risk on him ( maybe because he was a convert, an outsider, and she was the golden girl of Meyerism who was ‘supposed’ to end up with Cal? Eddie reacts so strongly to this, perhaps because it implies that he held her back from her birthright somehow?

So maybe the subtext here is “ I sacrificed so much to be with you, how could you cheat on me after that?”

” Look at me.

You are everything to me, okay? You’re it.

I remember the day.

I never imagined a future for myself before you,

but then there there you were with that glass of water,

and I didn’t have to try to imagine one anymore.

I had it.”

Reassuring her, she is the be all and end all for him. She is his salvation. Period. He was suicidal when he met her and she saved him. ( Much like she ‘saved’ Cal as a child.) Sarah as saviour figure is also a running theme on the show. (NB:We'll see Eddie as "Chosen One" again too)

‘There you were” he tells her , remembering when they met ‘ With that glass of water…”

Oh hello WATER my old friend!

We can imagine a young Eddie, bereft and suicidal, thirsty being given comfort by the Meyerist movement. Water. the shows favourite symbol of salvation. Actually the shows favourite symbol period. Besides Ladders. She pulled him out of his private apocalypse. Just like Mary at the trailer park. They gave him survival. His doubt is a very big deal. He stands to lose everything. As he says to Allison in the next scene:

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here.

You know,

I was high as a kite,

so what I saw, or what I think I saw, was it real?

You know, I mean, was the vision of my brother even real?

I mean, am I gonna blow up my life,

a life that I love,

because of something I don’t even know if I really saw?”

Yes he is. Because he feels the truth of it in his bones and he can’t live his life without Self- Actualisation. He is willing to give it all up for his personal truth. He loves her more than anything. But he will give her up if he has to. Contrast with Cal who holds onto his past infatuation and can’t let it go.

Speaking of which:

Scene: Sarah visits Cal.

Ok so this scene tells us an awful lot and is pretty damn creepy.

The Meyerists have no boundaries, we knew this, so Sarah going to tell her friend Cal about her marital problems is disturbingly par for the course.

Also I think Cal painted that bird. Remember he used to enjoy art once?

Then theres the dialogue:

“I was so scared of you when we were young.

Before Eddie.

You’d sneak into my bed.

Your hands were like fire.

I thought, “This guy could never really love a person.

Not for the years.

He needs too much.”

Firstly… WHAT??? He sneaked into her bed and felt her up? And she was scared? Ok so she seems to be implying that it was exciting but… Also HOW young are we talking here. This seems like a rather strange normalisation of something dark.

So Cal was probably sexually inappropriate with other kids his age. No surprises there its a classic sign of sexual abuse. We also learn that he couldn’t be emotionally intimate in the way she Wanted because he NEEDED too much.

Hello Pyramid my old friend.

He was stunted forever in survival mode because of Steve and couldn’t quite crack the sex and romance thing. And the horrible thing is that he remains silent the whole scene and literally can’t seem to respond to her because the dude is literally so full of secrets if he speaks he will open the floodgates and destroy the Earth.

So this is where we come to my theory:

That terrible dialogue:

Its so out of place. It doesn’t sound like her. ( She even quotes it like someone else said it.)

But you know who does sound like that? “ Flowers on Your Walls of Doom”, arch manipulator of the young, Steve.

On the few occasions we hear Steve speak in flashback. He sounds theatrical. Almost Shakesperian.

My theory is… That Cal’s later behaviour with Mary and Sean the ‘arranged marriage’ is part of an abusive cycle. I think he repeats what was done to him. I think maybe Steve sent a young Cal to Sarah’s bed in the first place.

In the same way Cal later sends Mary to Sean. Then gets a full report from her. THAT scene in ep 4 is very reminiscent of incest or something like it.

Oh and would you look at who’s watching them from the photo on the wall Behind Cal?

Hence why Sarah “Chose” Eddie. But for some reason didn’t have the agency to “Choose” Cal. Maybe Choosing Eddie was her one act of real agency within the movement? Lets not forget she nearly ran away with her sister. We might want to ask why?

Then perhaps Steve sent Cal away. Because he couldn’t have him getting to close to anyone. Offering him a life of vocation instead.

I don’t know for sure but it seems like something like this might have happened. And here’s why…

Scene: Cal and Mary visit Dad/ Plato’s Cave:

Right after this scene, Cal goes straight to Mary and suggests they “make it better” with a visit to her dad. Going to Mary is something he often does when his past comes back to haunt him, because she is,to him, like his inner child. She is his past writ large, open and honest and bleeding on the floor. No secrets. He acts out through her, processes his own trauma through her. How self aware he is about it is debatable. But his meeting with Sarah seems to have triggered him.

When you understand a bit more about Meyerism it’s shocking just how off the script Cal went by going to her Dad’s place and beating the shit out of him. Why did he feel the need to do it rather than just give her some Ladder Therapy? If he believed in Meyerism wouldn’t he try and get her to forgive? to move beyond it?

Because when she says the Ladder won’t help make it better he knows thats true, even if he can’t admit it to himself yet. And he goes very, very transgressive. Almost as though the act of violence is a rebellion against everything Steve stood for. Although at first all he wants is an apology. Demanding Mr. Cox to kneel and grovel in the dirt for forgiveness. ( Which is actually pretty Meyerist of him.) Its also possibly exactly what he would like from Steve.

But the turning point comes when Mr. Cox spits in his face. THEN he loses it. We find out later that Cal used to hand out flyers on the street as a kid and people used to spit on him. He may have a neurosis about it. But the whole confrontation with Mr. Cox becomes more about him than Mary at this point. If it ever was about her at all. But he does give her exactly what she needs. Vengence, justice, closure. And as a viewer, honestly. I was cheering the crazy bastard on.

So what do we know about Cal at this point?

He doesn’t believe, deep down, in what he’s preaching.

He has a lot in common with Mary.

He has a terrible temper.

He is capable of extreme violence.

He doesn’t appreciate being spat on. At all.

This does not make for a safe cult leader.

But it does beg the question whats more dangerous, a cult leader who doesn’t believe in his own propaganda, or one who does? Think of The Branch Davidians or Heavens Gate. Or the very Steven Meyer-esque David Berg and The Children of God cult? Belief can be a very dangerous thing too.

The scene is beautifully edited with Cal’s Plato Speech. Illustrating his hypocrisy even while he preaches.

Plato’s cave.

My favourite scene. Ironic and the perfect analogy. Cal essentially narrates his own life story without knowing it. The guy is somewhat less self aware than he pretends to be… And now we know it for sure. It ties into the episode title; “What The Fire Throws.”

Shadows of reality. We all live in our own version of reality with our own version of truth. Eddie has decided he’s had enough of this one. Cal is actually heading in the same direction, belief wise, as Eddie but he’s trapped in the institution in a way that Eddie isn’t. Steve literally made him paint a false reality for himself and without it he’s staring into the abyss.

Sarah has never even questioned her shadows. She was born in that cave. He presents the perfect argument against religion, and closed communities in particular. All the while railing against regular society and the untruths therein. The point is. There are many cults and we all live in one. Do we put our faith in a person to lead us? Eddies path is a lonely one, because the Room of Truth can only fit one person at a time. Would I let him lead me? Well.. I’m not pumping my fist and yelling “ Yay Cult!” anymore.

And as a viewer? We are presented with a reality on screen. And we are manipulated by that reality and shown shadows of reality, angles on things. This story isn’t all it seems. Theres an element of 4th wall breaking here too. Because it looks , at points, like he’s preaching right out of the screen.

And speaking of TRUTH:

Eddie admits his. But not to the people he loves. To a stranger in a motel room. Because sometimes the lie you’re living is the one you love the most.

#thepath #the path symbolism #the path #thepathonhulu #analysis #over analysis #idontreallyknowwhatimdoing

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