#because um. concerning assumption to make!

[virune]

i forget that there are folks who genuinely get pressed over fictional ships. imagine thinking about people kissing and getting mad about it, except the people don't actually exist. i spend so much time focusing on what i enjoy and having fun that i legitimately forgot i live in a world where this happens regularly

[izvmimi]

cw: izuku has a bit of an embarrassing secret. minors dni. smut.

You feel guilty laughing a bit too loudly, wondering between booth confessions on the reality tv show you’re watching if the crunch of your chips or your laughter is disturbing your boyfriend’s concentration, but Izuku insists that staying connected, your legs dangling over his knee on the couch as you lay and he sits up hunched over a bright laptop screen is necessary. Something, something about body doubling helping him concentrate, particularly when it’s you.

To be fair, he’s sighing so often that perhaps he’s really the one disturbing you, but you drop your bag of snacks on the coffee table then reach over to rub his knee with your clean hand. 

“How far did you get?” you ask.

He grimaces.

“I’m stuck with this particular paragraph,” he starts, and you’re already reaching for the remote to turn off the TV and help with his work document, but he grips your thigh gently and shakes to reassure you.

“Let me just think through it some more, I’ll ask you for help in a bit,” Izuku insists, smiling at you. His smile is wide and genuine when he looks at you, but once he turns back to the computer, the frustration is back, eyebrows furrowed as he starts to bite on his thumbnail. You’re less than enthused, but you decide to let him hear himself think, lowering the volume on your television just slightly as you go back to your show. 

A few more moments pass as he types, then pauses. Finally, he lets out a groan, and rubs his face and you pause your show but before you can ask him any questions he’s gotten up, telling you he needs a quick break. It’s sudden so you don’t go and follow him assuming he’ll be back.

You assumed he meant the bathroom when you turned your show back on and raised the volume slightly, and if you hadn’t made that assumption you’d probably have noticed that the wrong door closed, the one to the bedroom on the left and not the bathroom on the right. 

Five minutes pass, then ten, then fifteen, and suddenly concern sets in. Insane as you might be, you’re familiar enough with Izuku’s bathroom habits to know that fifteen minutes is a little too long, and he’s either still muttering up a storm on the toilet bowl or constipated.

You make your way down the corridor to see that the bathroom is empty but the bedroom is closed shut. There’s a noise you can’t yet identify coming through the other side as you peek your way in, but just as you notice the bright white light coming from his phone, you hear him let out a sudden, strangled moan and through his head back, and quickly you flip on the light before he gasps, and scrambles up to a sitting position, dick still hard and poorly covered by his crossed legs. The hand he uses to cover himself is dripping and you stand there, eyes completely wide as you take in the scene before you.

“... Um?” you start, and he blushes a deep red, strawberry like with the dotted freckles on his unscarred cheek.

“Listen, I can explain!”

You blink, but walk over to him, and tilt your head as you climb onto the bed next to him, shoulder to shoulder, and look at the mess now on your bed sheets.

“Go ahead, I’m listening.”

You’re in no way upset, simply… curious.

Izuku swallows thickly, then laughs. 

“It helps me concentrate.”

You raise your eyebrow, but it’s not an unreasonable thing he’s suggesting. Looking over at his phone placed aside him, you realize he’s looking at one of your pictures, not even one of the sexier ones you’ve taken to spice up one of his days on patrol, but a candid of you at the cafe down the street for brunch last week.

You can’t help but stifle a laugh.

“So masturbating to a picture of me having pancakes helps you concentrate,” you repeat slowly, and he reddens even deeper. “To be honest, it’s so on the nose, I’m going to have to check your browser history because no way you love me this much,” you say laughing a bit louder.

“Stop making fun of me,” he whines, but you only laugh harder, then lean into him and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“If you wanted to have sex, I would have stopped my show, by the way,” you insist. One of your hands finds its way up his shirt, ignoring just the few drops of sticky semen that have made their way onto his lower belly and trailing up. His flush is different now, extending further down his body, and he looks at you for a moment, contemplating before pressing his hand over yours.

“I didn’t want to disturb you, you looked comfortable.”

You snort.

“When would I pass on a good fuck?”

He pulls his lower lip behind his teeth gently as you move back down his chest, gliding all the way to the base of his cock. He shudders and closes his eyes.

“I don’t want to use you for that purpose.. It just feels disingenuous.”

Your head lowers and the kitten lick you offer on his still sticky tip practically makes his cock jump. You giggle, then look back up at him.

“You’re allowed to use me however you want,” you remind him. Your fingers close around him more, sliding up and down the shaft once before letting your tongue run up your palm. 

Clearly you’re messing with him at this point. 

“___,” he whispers your name, and you can tell he’s cooked. You bat your eyelashes gently.

“It was meant to be quick…” he adds, but he’s losing ground more and more every second, and you’re about to bob your head down again. “I… I want to make sure that when we’re having sex, I can take my time with you instead of worrying about this damn dead- oh.”

You’ve taken him down to the base, your nose pressed against his pelvic bone, and his hand finds its way to cradle the back of your head. Sucking up and down gently and slow, you let your tongue twirl around the head again before you pull back, and grin at him.

“We can still be quick...” you offer. 

From the look on his face, any circulation to his brain that could be used for writing is now down to that thick, strong cock just inches from your face. His mouth practically waters as he looks at you, in a stupor.

You barely see him move before he’s on top of you, and you gasp before you laugh.

“You’re right, this is a far better option.”

You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Let’s see how fast you can make me cum and clear both of our heads.”

[thetarttfuldickhead]

There was this post a little while back suggesting that Beard gets kicked out by Jane and moves in with Higgins and that’s very narratively satisfying and right, given that Leslie’s the one person daring to tell Beard that his relationship with Jane isn’t, you know, great. However, I’m a Roy & Jamie girl at heart, so I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if Beard instead moved in with his fellow fan of few words, ie one Roy Kent.

Say, for instance, that Roy and Jamie are fucking/dating/what have you and Jamie gets it into his pretty, silly head that they can somehow hide the fact from Beard. Roy tells him stop being an idiot, of course he’s going to know if he’s staying here, only way to keep it from him if you keep away until he finds another place to live, and fuck no, I’m not moving in with you, how the fuck would I explain that, and anyway your fucking headboard would give me a migraine.

Well, Jamie says mulishly, I’m not staying away.

Fine, Roy says, secretly a little relieved. So he’ll know. Big fucking deal.

And in this version of events Roy really is cool with it, because it has to come out sooner or later and he’s not ashamed and it’s not like Beard’s gonna say anything (Roy may or may not be mistaken in this assumption), and anyway, he’s Roy Kent, he does whatever the hell he wants, okay. Only Jamie doesn’t accept that, because he has this strong and somewhat misguided notion that he needs to defend Roy’s honour by not letting anyone suspect he’s fucking his player. So Jamie starts making up increasingly absurd excuses as to why he should show up at Roy’s place like having some work done at my house and Roy was concerned I’d be breathing in poisonous fumes, yeah, so he said I had to come over here and um, Coach, I think I strained my calf today, could you maybe take a look here in the bedroom ‘cause my back hurts too and I need to lay down and yeah, Beard’s eyebrows are not as psychotic as Roy’s but they certainly climb and climb and climb. Later in the evening he just glances at Roy, so, you and Jamie, huh? And Roy shrugs, unconcerned, yeah, and pours himself another cup of tea. He doesn’t tell Jamie that they’ve been made, though; it’s still kind of fun watching the muppet make a fool of himself. Besides, the idea of their encounters being particularly illicit seems to really get Jamie going, so.

Alternatively, Jamie agrees to stay away, and then proceeds to do everything in his power to set Beard up with someone else so that Beard can be happy and move in with his new friend and Jamie can go back to shagging his grumpy old boyfriend all over the house. The attempts are predictably absurd, but also oddly sweet (‘cause Jamie wants the relationship to last, right, so that Beard doesn’t come knocking on Roy’s door again anytime soon, so obviously he needs to find someone properly nice, but it’s hard for him to figure what nice means to someone as odd as Beard).

(These two scenarios work if Keeley’s part of the mix, too, btw. She can either join in Jamie’s antics because she’s a weird girl at heart, or she can be the voice of reason if a voice of reason is what gets you going.)

Or say that Roy and Jamie really are just friends (for the moment, at least) and it’s Roy that gets a little nervous about Beard realizing just how close they are. Like, he’s reluctantly cool with everyone knowing that Jaime is his favourite player (though of course he’d deny it if someone dared say it to his face) or them knowing that Roy spends stupid amounts of time torturing training Jamie, but he’s not quite comfortable having people know that they also just… hang out. That Roy cooks Jamie dinner. Leaves Phoebe with him when Roy’s busy with a coaching crisis. That they watch stupid shit on the telly together, and that Roy doesn’t complain (much) when Jamie curls up to him like a cat. That stuff’s private, all right? So he stops having Jamie over, starts brushing him off, and at first Jamie’s undeterred because if he let Roy’s grumpiness get to him he’d never not be gotten to, but Roy persists and Jamie starts to wilt, hurt and confused. In the end, Beard – wise, all-seeing Beard – fixes Roy with one long stare and notes that there’s nothing wrong with having a friend, Coach. Plenty wrong with being shit to the ones you’ve got, though, and Roy doesn’t even yell fuck he just stands there, stony like, until he jerks a short nod and stalks off to make things up to Jamie.

Anyway, the idea of Beard bearing witness to Roy and/or Jamie being particularly ridiculous about each other is very funny, to me.

(I tried to hunt down that original post because even though I didn’t want to add to it and derail OP’s poignant take with my Roy & Jamie obsession, I still want to credit them for the original idea. Couldn’t find it, however, but please give me a shout if you have a link. Aha! @coachbeards is the original galaxy brain!)

[siryouarebeingmocked]

SYABM comic 70 “Donation Aggravation”.

[ Older comics | Chronological order | Subreddit ]

Some people get really mad about a computer asking them to give pennies.

AP says this meme is false.

Customer donations aren’t income, legally. So they can’t be ducked from the company’s tax bill.

Tax Policy Center says the same thing, and points out that consumers forget to deduct their donations.*

This meme was apparently popularized by, of course, TikTok.

Also, if they get a tax break, so what? 

The point of that is to encourage charity and social benefit. If you care more about the tax break than whether they’re actually helping anyone, I think your priorities are skewed.

And getting a tax break means the company has more money to spend on stuff like...the charity. Or employee raises. Or just staying open.

I know the implication is that they must be insincere, but it doesn’t actually prove anything. It’s just point-scoring.

I recently saw people complaining that Panda Express falsely takes the credit for their charity, which is entirely funded by donations from customers and employees. PE Cares openly and explicitly says so on their website.

PE also covers the admin costs for PEC. All of them.

And as someone pointed out, they could just as easily...not have the charity. In fact, it would be easier.

Heck, during the Hawaii Wildfires, PE donated meals to first responders and displaced people. And, oh yes, they matched donations to the Red Cross.

...It’s a “Cancel” button. 

Those are often different from regular choices, so people don’t click them accidentally. Heck, sometimes they’re made that way so they’re easier to see.

No 5D chess subliminal messages required.

And if you’re so easily influenced that a button color can change your mind, that’s on you.

“Saying your assumptions about us are wrong are gaslighting, even when I have no actual evidence  I am also confident that everyone does this, which justifies my assumption that any given company does this.”

It’s especially irritating because gaslighting is about perception. But assumptions are not actual perceptions, and perceptions are wrong all the time.

I also saw people in the Youtube comments complaining about grocery store food waste, because apparently stores love to waste money, and are not influenced by picky consumers or legal concerns (PDF).

I’ve argued with these types before, and naturally, they defaulted to attacking me instead of my argument. Didn’t even pretend to have any actual evidence. Unlike me. Just doubled down.

And, again, what does this have to do with charity?

Plenty of companies actually, quietly donate everything to charity that they can. But that doesn’t make the news as much. Sometimes because that leads to people trying to take advantage.

Incidentally, during the Texas blackout a few years back, one grocery store tried to donate their food to a charity. Except it was physically impossible for them to get there before the food expired, due to the bad weather.

People saw the store throw out the ruined food (under police guard), and said the store was selfish.

One Youtube comment said the Bible claimed people shouldn’t give openly. Okay, but that’s about self-aggrandizement and egotism, not just asking for donations and trying to set an example for others, out of actual caring.

I think the real motive is a combination of anti-corporate NPC hate, and the desire to attack the requester instead of admitting they just don’t want to donate.

And I gotta wonder what the overlap is with the folks who insist billionaires can “easily” afford to pay taxes that are more than what many people make in their entire lives, because it’s a small amount relative to their total wealth.

* Did see someone once claim that people pay higher taxes for donating. They may have been referring to people not knowing they can deduct donation. Which is, um, not the company’s fault. At all.

Behind the Scenes: This is the first comic drawn in Krita that I’ve animated. In fact, it’s my first Krita animation, ever.

And unfortunately for me, Krita can’t animate Vector layers or groups. I only figured that out after a literal hour looking up tutorials (which didn’t help). And it’s a tad irritating, because I often use vector layers AND groups.

So I had to manually create each frame. Three different elements with three different timings. Had to break out the paper and pencil and plot it out.

Kinda fun, actually.

This is also the first commentary in a long time that I didn’t write before I finished the comic. In fact, I’m doing it completely raw. All I had was the saved image and a link to the Youtube thread in question.

Comic Inspirations:

That one freakout scene in Bocchi the Rock.

The kiosks at my local McDonald’s.

Whatever this is;

[axelsagewrites]

Robb Stark*Little Secret

Kinktober Day one: discrete fun with Robb Stark – deciding to take his teasing to a new level Robb decides to take the sex toys out of the bedroom Word count: 1314

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

When Robb said he had a surprise for you with a devious smirk playing on his lips you knew you were in for a long night. You’d just finished getting ready to go out to dinner and a movie with Robbs brother Jon and his girlfriend Ygritte when Robb approached you. he held out a glossy black box, a pink ribbon wrapped around it.

As you opened it, Robbs eyes dancing with excitement, you wondered what he had planned. However, when you opened it to find a black lacy underwear for a moment you rolled your eyes, a smile toying your lips before it fell when you lifted it out the box. “Robb no,” you protested as you held the soft fabric. A small black bullet vibe was placed inside the underwear and when you looked further in the box you found the remote, “Cmon,” Robb grinned, shuffling closer to you on the couch and gripping your thigh and kissing your cheek, “It’d be hot,” “It’d be dangerous,” you protested as you fumbled with the remote, “what if they hear it?” you ask, clicking it on and listening to how it buzzed. Robb took the panties, closing his hand around the vibrator to muffle the sound, “See you can barely hear it?” You gnawed at your lip as you debated it. sighing you snatched back the underwear and stood up, “You owe me,” you said as you began to slip off the pair you had originally planned on wearing. A wide grin spread across Robbs face as he watched you slip the fabric up your legs, his hands moving to rest on the backs of your thighs, “You won’t regret this babe,” he said.

But you almost did when he first clicked it on. The smirk on his lips was faint as he asked his brother how he and Ygritte met over dinner. Your body jolted for a second and you did your best to play it off by brushing your hair out your face, sending a small glare to Robb. The bullet however was right over your clit so even though it was the lowest setting you could already feel yourself growing wet as it buzzed. You crossed your legs, hoping clenching your thighs would give you some release but all it did was press it in further. A moan was threatening to spill as your fingernails dug into Robbs thigh and a moment later, he clicked it off. However instead of relief you almost felt disappointed as you tried to breathe again. “What about you (y/n)?” Jons voice snapped you from your thoughts, making you turn with a slight hum as if you just hadn’t heard and not that you had a dirty secret under the table, “How’s the job?” he said, slight chuckle in his voice, “Or am I boring you already?” “Sorry Jon,” you laughed as Robb placed a hand on your thigh under the table, giving it a knowing squeeze, “Yeah it’s been alright,”

Dinner continued with few hiccups. Twice Robb had switched it on however this time only for a few seconds, deciding to reign in his teasing. Or so you thought. “Hey babe could grab us some popcorn while I go to the bathroom?” Robb asked and foolishly you assumed he was asking because he wanted popcorn. A reasonable assumption since your movie started in ten minutes and Jon and Ygritte were at the other counter buying tickets. It was as soon as you were two steps away that you felt the buzzing start. Your walk faltered, almost stopping in your tracks when the cashier gave you a concerned look. “You ready to order miss?” the bored looking highschooler asked. “Um can I just um get an um,” you began to stutter as your eyes widened when you realised Robb had set it to two this time. “large popcorn,” you practically squeaked. “Whatever,” the man mumbled as he turned to go fill up your tub, “It’s a fresh batch so it’ll just be a minute miss,” he said and for a moment you wished the earth would swallow you whole as your thighs clenched together and you prayed no one would notice. You could feel your stomach tightening and you did your best to push the feeling down. Your fingers played with the hem of your dress, picking at the fabric, and praying no one could see the subtle twitches you made as you bit your lip. How on earth where you supposed to carry the popcorn back without spilling anything when on the brink of an orgasm? Thankfully as soon as the man turned around, sitting the massive bag of popcorn down, the vibe stopped, and you let a sigh of audible relief. “That’ll be $13.89,” he said, and you just shoved a 10 and a 5 to him before snatching the popcorn and taking off. However, when you turned a scowl fell on your lips as you saw Robb standing laughing, leaning against a pillar a few feet away, “I swear to god I’m going to- “you whispered when you reached him but stopped and replaced your glare with a smile when Jon and Ygritte walked over. “Hey guys,” you grinned, ignoring how Robb was still struggling not to laugh.

You were so wrapped up in barbie that you’d completely forgot about the whole night until you felt that familiar buzz. You glanced over to Robb who was sat beside you, seeing him smirking in the dark room. You looked out further to where Jon and Ygritte sat beside him except, she was curled into Jons side, their eyes fixed on the scene of the kens preparing for battle. Robb draped his arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his side and kissing the top of your head as you tried to keep your eyes fixed to the screen as your thighs began to clench again. You saw Robb click the remote this time, the vibe going to two however when he pressed it again, the vibe buzzing perfectly against your clit, you let out a soft whimper that was luckily drowned out by Kens song starting. Your hand moved to Robbs thigh, gripping it tightly as your thighs clenched even harder. You felt your body jolt when he pressed it again, the vibe now at full speed. You weren’t sure if it was because the other incidents this night or whether because you were in a semi crowded movie theatre, but you felt a rush come over you as a familiar knot appeared in your stomach. “Robbie,” you whispered in his ear, but it was more of a whimper. Robb hummed, his eyes not leaving the screen, “I can’t-you need to stop,” you whispered, feeling yourself come to the brink. “No one’s paying attention,” Robb whispered back, his voice lower than usual only making this even hotter, “Relax babe,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. Another small whine left your lips as Robb placed a hand on your thigh. You could feel your body start to twitch as you bit down on your lip, silently begging no more noises would come out. Everyone was laughing at the movie, their gazes fixed firmly on the screen while yours stared at how Robb gripped the flesh of your thigh. Then it hit you like a ton of bricks, taking in a sharp breath as your eyes tightened shut. Robb had made you come before, but this was different as you clutched at his thigh, almost collapsing back in your seat panting as you came down from your high. All your sounds were muffled by laughter all around and you gazed up at Robb with the hottest gaze he’d ever seen, “You so owe me,” you whispered making Robb laugh as he switched the toy off for the last time. well, that night at least.

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @nyotamalfoy

[disappointmentofthefam]

Love?Love. (part 4)

Andy Barber x Reader

warnings-kind of a slow, filler chapter, nothing much happens but its important to thee plot ig WHATEVER.

Paralyzed.

Y/n was paralyzed in her place.

"Hello? Please move out of the way," Laurie pushes her way through her, "who even are you?" She grimaces.

Unable to answer the woman with the mountain-sized lump in her throat and the squeezing of her heart, y/n runs out of the house.

Girl grief is ugly. There is no smoking-out-the-balcony-in-just-her-panties or the sexy-dancing-in-her-bedroom-while-planning-revenge. No, the movies had gotten it all wrong.

Girl grief consists of puffy eyes, a bloated face, runny nose, ugly thoughts and very unkind assumptions about one's own self.

you're so stupid, so so so so so stupid!

look at yourself, she cries in front of her bathroom mirror, you're so ugly.

she pinches the extra mass on her stomach, how did you even assume you meant something to him?

She excuses herself from dinner, "im not hungry,mom!" while clutching her chest and sobbing into the pillow.

he had a wife the entire time. Of course he did! He would never ever go for me! Laurie is so skinny, she's porcelain, so perfect. I don't compare! I can't compare to her! she's her and I'm ME.

she lies in her bed awake the entire night, playing those moments with Andy over and over again, trying to find solace in the warm memories.

…………………………………………………………………………….

Back at The Barber's residence

"Laurie?" Andy's eyes widen in surprise and concern for y/n, "What are you doing here? Where's y/n?"

"y/n huh? Is that the name of the girl you were plannin on fucking tonight?" Laurie's voice is filled with malice and contempt.

Andy's fists clench at the way his ex describes y/n, "One,that's none of your business and two, she's not just some girl who I wanted to fuck."

"Jesus, Andrew," Laurie gives him a vicious smile, "You're going to fight with your wife over some dumb piece of ass?"

This fucking did it for Andy, As he lurches forward and grabs her wrist "I dare you, fucking say that again."

Laurie snatches her hand from his tight grasp, "Whatever," she rubs her wrist, "i don't give a fuck about her, I'm here to see my son."

"He's in his fucking room," Andy gives her a sarcastic smile, "and by all means, do not make yourself comfortable in my home." With that he leaves the house, and calls y/n.

His relationship with Laurie was um……….. as diplomatic as it could be, for the sake of their son. He could barely tolerate her presence, especially after she constantly treated him like her own personal trash can, putting him through the worst, over and over again throughout the rough course of their marriage.

And still she just wouldn't go away!

fuck y/n pick up,angel

…………………………………………………………

18 missed calls and 23 (unopened)text messages later, Andy decides he can't risk losing her.

He finds a girl who despite all the horrors of life, shines like a ray of motherfucking sunshine,the only woman Andrew Barber would embarrass himself for. No way he was going to lose her, not without a fight.

So there he is. At her doorstep as he rings the doorbell.

"Yes?" A woman, Y/n's mother, he guesses, opens the door, "Mr. Barber! Welcome, welcome," she extends a warm invitation.

So this is who y/n gets her sweet soul from

"Another time, Mrs. y/l/n," Andy returns a small smile, "is y/n here?"

"Yes, yes, she's up in her room, did you need anything?"

"Yeah….uh….." Think, Andy, think, "yeah I needed her help with uhhh…. she told me that I could borrow this book from her….. it's about uhh….historic politics."

historic politics? that's the best i could come up with? HOW AM I EVEN A LAWYER

Her mother disappears upstairs for a moment, and then returns with a tight lipped and disappointed smile, "I'm sorry but she's feeling a little sick right now, maybe you could come back tomorrow?"

With droopy shoulders,Andy gets into his car, because going to his house was not an option,not until Laurie was out of there.

………………………………………………………………………..

The next morning, Y/n goes to unbelievable lengths to avoid running into Andy. Although she does receive a bouquet of sunflowers, sent anonymously, with a small handwritten letter attached to it:

"Angel, please give me a chance to explain, I promise it's not what it looks like."

that's literally the classic phrase of a cheating man, I'm not falling for it

"Come on,y/n, we both know you deserve better than being someone's mistress,"her best friend had said, "flowers will never change the fact that he has a wife."

y/n even goes as far as to tutor Jacob at her house.

Jacob is a little confused as to why y/n brought him here. " So, what happened with you and dad-"

"Nuh-uh,the only questions i will entertain are about nomenclature."

……………………………………………………………………………..

As the night falls, y/n can't help but get a little curious about Andy.

is he doing okay? who am i kidding,he's probably unaffected.

how could he be so okay?

tears well in her eyes once again.

how could he be so okay while i can't even digest half of a toast without throwing it up!

As curiosity gets the best of her, y/n slowly peeks through the curtains in her room,getting the full view of Andy's bedroom through his unshielded window.

Damn! doesn't this man have a sense of privacy?well,shit, what else could you expect from a two timer, rich,white man.

Suddenly, Andy appears into her view, he's wearing nothing but a towel, lowly hanging from his pelvis.

His hair looked wet, framing his forehead gracefully.

His arms flexed as he took another towel and started drying his hair off.

Fuck you, Andy, you're making it really really hard for my self respect!

………………………………………………………………………….

Over the course of the next five days, y/n continues with her little routine of trying everything in her power to avoid Andy while more and more bouquets pile up in her room with different notes attached every day:

"take your time angel, you know I'll be waiting for you."

"i loved the way your lips felt on mine."

"angel, You're driving me crazy."

and so on.

"Why does she have to be so stubborn?"Andy grimaces as he settles down on the sofa with a beer in his hands.

"Look at you! Andrew Barber, finally at the mercy of romance." Sam, his best friend quips from beside Andy.

A few beers in, Sam's mind sparks with an idea,"I'll throw a party at my house this weekend!"

Andy rolls his eyes, "My love life is literally in the burning pits of hell and you want a party?"

"No, dumbass, I'll invite Y/n too!"

Andy sits up straight,an eager smile on his face, "YES! A party it fucking is then!"

See you soon, angel

[lucyandthepen]

a lesson on style - vi . [ ljn | njm ]

pt. i, pt. ii, pt. iii, pt. iv., pt. v, pt. vi

you’ve always been content with being associated with one word and one word only: average. average in looks, academics and social skills, you’re just looking to graduate high school without causing disasters you’ll have to live with until you kick the bucket. when you’re paired with school king lee jeno for the semester-long physics thesis, you can’t help but think the entire situation has pretty much set itself up for failure. that is, until you strike a deal with your partner. 

alternatively: an au tale involving lessons in popularity, eleven consecutive B­ minuses, a secretly sensitive, chess­-loving jock, and an amateur sex tape.

pairing: jeno x fem!reader, jaemin x fem!reader verse: high school au { jocks!nomin ft. a super cute whiny ap physics genius renjun } rating: M chapter warnings: none word count: 8.1k

author’s note: this was actually supposed to go on for a lot longer but... it might've reached a solid 13-15k and i just thought it would be better to split it into half-ish, so nothing major happens, although i definitely enjoyed yet another mc/jaemin real talk session that i also hope you enjoy! :^)

tagging: @justalildumpling, @spiderrenjunfics (no longer available, please give me your new url if you're still interested!)

You think now is as good a time as any for you to say something that’ll easily impact the trajectory of your life forever; after all, Jeno’s essentially given you the floor after such a strange and honestly shocking turn of events. You’re aware of the fact that his thumb is still traveling across your cheek, more idle as an action than anything else, but you seem to be experiencing the feeling as something closer to an out-of-body experience than an actual first-hand one; the tingles they send to your heart are weird and blurry, like your body can’t process his touch well enough to understand it fully. You suppose it’s because of your confusion at what he’s saying, which leads to your second option: asking him what he means. 

There’s little to interpret at face value, but what his words do is essentially unlock a torrent of other weird questions in your head. For instance: how long had he known that you liked him? Had he known this entire time? Did something you did make it painfully obvious? If he wants you to like him — and, as he says, only him — does that mean he’s essentially accepting your feelings? Does this mean… he likes you back? 

You assume this is one of those moments where, because your mind is going a million miles a minute, a lot of time feels like it’s passed even though it’s just been a small handful of seconds. This assumption is quickly broken by Jeno’s expression of concern. 

“_______________? Say… something.”

“Um,” you start before you can even figure out what you want to say. The easiest answer comes to mind: It’s always only been you. But that’s weird, and this isn’t a 90’s Western movie, and if it were, you certainly wouldn’t be the eloquent main romance interest, even if Jeno’s gaze could easily fool you into thinking that. You think about making a joke, but you’re befuddled and also fresh from tears that — if Jeno’s abrupt story is actually true — were totally useless and unfounded in nature. 

Also, you’re really not that funny to begin with.  

“I just…” you try again, and his eyebrows raise slightly in anticipation for your next words. Nothing else comes out after a few seconds, though, and he realizes this is just another false start, his hand falling onto your shoulder (maybe he’s tired of trying to coax it out of you with the thumb-on-cheek method, which admittedly had you clamping up more than anything else). 

“You can just tell me how you really f—”

“I think I have to go.” 

No. No. Why would you say that? The surprise on his face quickly morphs into something that looks almost crestfallen, an expression you’d never imagine seeing on bright, confident Lee Jeno, let alone ever be the cause of. His hand slips from your shoulder quickly, like he’s now worried touching you will electrocute him. 

“Oh. I’m sorry — I didn’t… mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m… I’m not.” You’re not, are you? “Maybe a little, but it isn’t really you —”

“Something I said, then—?”

“No, I…” Your fingernail digs into the pad of your thumb, with you trying to use the sting of the pain to jolt you out of this nervous, inarticulate state. “I just don’t think… I have anything of value to say right now.”

“What makes you think that?” 

“Because…” Grappling for words is like trying to break through the surface of water; you’re almost there, but somehow you’re still floundering, and that only seems to be making it much worse. “Because I never really thought about what I’d do… if you really found out I liked you.” 

When you say it, it suddenly makes sense. For some reason, you’d always lived your life shuttling between point A (liking Jeno quietly in the comfort of your own mind palace) and point Z (fantasizing about your life with him where you live in a quaint townhouse with a cute mailbox and three kids), but you’d never really given much thought to all the points in between, especially not one that contains a scenario in which he’d find out and seemingly be okay with it, which, based on the current conversation, somehow seems like a reasonable thing to assume about him. 

You’ve always wanted it — him knowing, him accepting it, maybe even him liking you back —  but it kind of felt like, deep down, you hadn’t really believed it would ever happen. 

And you were kind of content with that, because you wouldn’t ever really have to deal with the complications of it. Right now, you’re feeling unprepared and a little exposed, weirdly vulnerable to his gaze. It once again, for the hundredth time tonight, it seems, triggers some kind of flight instinct in you that has you looking anywhere but at him all of a sudden. 

“You can think about it… now,” he suggests carefully. Being put on the spot doesn’t really ever bring out the best in you — a fact that might be known to people who were actually paying attention to your failed impromptu speech about whale hunting in your sixth grade English class — so you just pretend that the silhouette of Jaemin’s front yard tree is supremely interesting to you all of a sudden, never mind the fact that it’s about a few inches from Jeno’s ear from your vantage point. You don’t really want to see his expression right now, especially if that means it’ll only fluster you back into speechlessness. 

“I don’t really know if I can,” you admit. From your peripheral vision, you see what seems like a flash of discomfort pass across Jeno’s face; you’re sure you just imagined it, considering you’ve never imagined cool, aloof, king of your heart Lee Jeno as exuding anything other than utmost confidence. Still, his next words do make you question that notion twice over. 

“Did I… misunderstand something? Is it that you don’t have feelings for me?” 

“No, I… you know. I… yeah, I do, but I just —”

“You’re seeing someone else?” 

“No,” you say more fiercely, and for a brief moment, you’re so appalled at the thought that your eyes flicker to his, which ends up being a terrible mistake because the confusion in his gaze is so profound that the guilt in you swells tenfold. 

“Because I thought… maybe the reason Renjun and you —”

“He’s — honest to God — he’s just my friend.” 

“And Jaemin is…?”

“My… next door neighbor?” You blink rapidly at the lights still coming from his house, wondering now what Jaemin has to do with all of this in the first place. For someone who seems like he would be extremely uninvolved in this general progress of events, he seems to crop up time and again, weirdly always around when you need someone. Maybe it’s a neighbor thing, or maybe he’s a little nosier than you thought. But thinking about another element in this situation is starting to give you a headache, and you’re way past the time you’re usually already in bed avoiding homework and watching shitty dating reality shows instead. “I don’t really understand what he has to do with this either. I just don’t think I’m prepared to have this conversation at all.”

“But you like me, don’t you?” 

It’s weird, actually, now that you think about it — why does he have to confirm the fact time and time again? It’s almost like he’s worried, although you can’t imagine why he would be. More than anything, you’d kind of assumed that he would find that information pretty repellent, but with the way he’s asking in earnest, it almost seems like he wants to keep the knowledge of that like a talisman. 

“I do,” you admit, mostly because it’s out in the open, but also partially because you’ve made the mistake of looking at him again, and you start wondering how he could even wonder when everyone seems to like him (you, perhaps, to a somewhat unhealthy degree). 

“More than them?” 

“I—” Your brow furrows, another wave of confusion washing over you. But his eyes are much too honest in their questioning, and you speak before anything else can come to mind. “More than anyone, Jeno.”

What looks oddly like relief settles on his face, and you notice only then that his shoulders have been tensed up because he seems to relax them all of a sudden. “Oh. Good. Great. So listen, now that we’re on the same page, I—”

Jeno’s interrupted by one of the guys in a university sweater calling out to him from across the two lawns, voice booming to a degree that sets off a few annoyed dogs in your area. Jeno raises a hand to signal him to wait, his mouth still open on whatever words he wanted to complete his sentence with, but the sounds he was trying to make quickly die into silence anyway, drowned out by a huge crash inside Jaemin’s house. 

You’re not entirely certain of what he wants to say — on the bright side, he could have been ramping up to a point that could easily make all your dreams from middle school to now a perfect reality, but he also could have been setting you up for some kind of grand, embarrassing failure — not by his design or by malice but just by the pointing out of the fact that you two lead different lives and things would likely never work out, anyway, but it’d be cool that you liked him in your own time, and he’d allow it as long as you didn’t get drool all over his notebook in class. 

Either way, you don’t think now, with a bunch of inebriated college people shouting profanities on Jaemin’s lawn and a gaggle of high school kids panicking about what sounds to be a broken table and a whole bunch of pizza on the floor, is the best time to be processing those things.

“I actually,” Jeno turns his gaze to you again, strangely alert, like you’d just whistled for a dog’s attention. You’ve never seen him like this, and it’s weird to think that, at this awkward moment, you can still find him painfully endearing. You have to shake yourself out of the grip of the already beckoning force that tells you to sigh dreamily about how adorable he is. “Think I should really be heading inside. Looks like they also need you for some kind of damage control, anyway.”

The same college kid calls for Jeno again, dragging out the vowels of his name kind of annoyingly. Jeno sighs, nodding slowly enough for you to know he’s caught on — this probably isn’t the right time to have such a weirdly heavy conversation.

“Yeah. I probably need to help clean up, anyway. No one’s going to want to do it, and Jaemin’s already chewed me out for bailing on mop duty a few times.”

“Why’d you bail?” 

“Just… got busy, personally.” He looks sheepish, and it doesn’t take a bunch of lightbulbs going off for you to cotton on as well. Now, you’re just wishing you hadn’t asked, so you didn’t ever have to imagine it. Still, what’s done is done. You have to focus on keeping the discomfort out of your face this time. “Um… that’s not important, though. Anyway —I’ll talk to you soon, okay, ________________? Like… maybe we can catch up at school? You know, talk about our thing — the project, I mean — and like… et cetera?”

“Yeah, for sure.” Your smile’s weak, and so is your joke, but you should at least try to hold up casual pretenses as much as he does, even though he’s obviously much better at it. “I’ll tell on you to Hwang if you don’t, you know.” 

His laugh is soft, but it at least sounds genuine; his smile still reaches his eyes, which already makes your heart feel a little lighter. But instead of trekking off immediately, he lingers, strangely, until his grin winnows down into just the ghost of a smile on his lips. Even weirder are his hands, slightly outstretched towards your waist, like he’s trying to cross the gap between you (even if it’s admittedly very minimal) but suddenly decides not to. The result is him looking strangely stiff and uncharacteristically hesitant, but you chalk it up to him simply not knowing how to end such a weirdly situated conversation. You know you’d have an even worse time doing it if it were up to you, so you can’t really blame him. 

In the end, he closes the dialogue with ‘see you around, ________________,’ and a quick pat on the shoulder, which, if you think about it, seems a little disappointingly different from when he’d had his hand against your cheek a few minutes ago. Then again, you’re not sure you could handle something like that again, anyway. 

You watch him walk off back towards Jaemin’s house, and some pitiful, pathetic part of you is expecting him to look back, say one last goodbye to you, or something, but the university guy that had belted his name out so vigilantly just swings an arm around Jeno’s neck and drags him to a corner where a bunch of other similarly dressed people, to whom Jeno starts talking to almost immediately. 

Cutting this conversation short was probably for the best, anyway; you have no idea what he would have said, but you’re very sure you wouldn’t have been prepared for it either way. You trudge into your house and up into your room, already mentally prepared to spend the rest of the night obsessively mulling over what it all meant and what he had really been planning to say at the end. The process starts some time in the shower, while you’re shampooing your hair and you embarrassingly remember the feeling of Jeno’s hand tangled in it. The moony expression that the thought of it leaves on your face is present up until you see how stupid it looks in the fogged up bathroom mirror. 

Renjun still hasn’t texted you, which is honestly starting to be a source of mild anxiety because you can’t be sure if he’s dead in a ditch somewhere or just ignoring you for some unknown reason. Whatever it is, you leave like three messages wondering where he’s at and asking him to call you. You’re on your fourth message, which is asking to confirm about tomorrow’s movie (something you’d almost forgotten about save for the fact that you’d remembered this would be a point of argument for you both once again if you spaced on it) when a notification pops up that once again gives you a heart attack. 

Lee Jeno: u looked pretty tonight, btw :) 

You: oh!! thank you…!

You: you looked great tonight too…! :)��

Lee Jeno: haha… cute :) 

Lee Jeno: goodnight, ____________ :) 

This is the most emojis you’ve ever seen used in a single brief conversation, and you can’t help but feel like it might be a little juvenile, but it doesn’t even matter because Lee freaking Jeno called you pretty and cute in the span of five minutes. Your thumbs are shaking as you type back a typo-laden goodnight that takes you a full other minute just to edit before waiting a little more, but nothing else comes. Maybe he’s driving home, or something. You toss your phone onto your bed, away from easy reach, before you can start overthinking what this silence means again. 

Your reflection in your window mirrors the same scene you’d encountered in the bathroom: you, hair bundled up in a wet towel, bare-faced with a stupid grin across it. You’re so caught up in the act of reeling from Jeno’s three texts that you belatedly notice a square of light beyond your bedroom window. You almost duck out of sight when you see a shadow there, thinking about crying bloody murder, until you realize it’s Jaemin, who’s watching the ridiculous expression on your face with a curious gaze from a distance. He’s still in the same clothes he’d worn to the party, but you can see, even from this far away, that there’s this dark patch on it that looks suspiciously close to the way your shirt had on the day his coke had emptied itself out on your back. That must’ve been from the crash earlier, you deduce. 

You think he’s just zoning out facing in your direction, and you find there’s no need to meet his gaze, but there’s still something a little unsettling about having someone spacing out in your general direction, so you reach up to pull your blinds down. Your hand almost reaches the string, but Jaemin’s hand suddenly starts going up too, like it’s trying to follow you, and you freeze in your movements. His keeps going, though, up until it’s close to his face, and suddenly, he’s moving it side to side, in some weird regular pattern.

He’s waving, your tired, overworked brain tells you belatedly. The string of your blinds tickles the tip of your fingers. 

Unsure and a little self-conscious, you wave back, hoping he doesn’t notice that you were about two strong pulls away from drawing yourself out of sight. This is clearly the right response, because even from this distance, you can see the brilliant white of his teeth as he smiles, fully and unabashedly, at you. 

The first thing you do when you wake up the following morning is check your phone. You’re not even really sure what you’re looking for — maybe a text from Jeno, who, if you think about it now, probably has nothing to say in response to your boring ‘goodnight’ anyway (but you can still dream), or maybe a missed call or two from Renjun, who should at least be offering you some explanation as to why he was completely out of sight after parting ways with you and Mark Lee last night. 

Unfortunately, there’s nothing on your screen, apart from the stupid 번장 notification that tells you the pocket punch board you’ve been wanting for no good reason has been discounted by the seller to a price you still can’t reasonably afford anyway. 

You certainly can’t do anything about Jeno’s lack of contact, and to be completely honest with yourself, you’re not even really that sure if you want to. Something about yesterday’s conversation, while not exactly a train wreck, makes you very nervous to have a full conversation with him, and you’d much rather it stick to very basic, kindergarten-level things, like ‘you look cute’ and ‘haha’ and ‘:)’, but since that isn’t completely in your control, you decide you simply don’t want to do anything about it.

Renjun, however, is a completely different matter. You don’t understand why he’s ignoring you if he is, considering you had spent the better part of the night (at least, the parts during which you weren’t crying on your lawn) looking for him, so this silence, if deliberate, doesn’t seem fair or even reasonable. You decide that it’s much too early to be getting an earful from you in the end, so you just send a very emphatic ‘WRU?????????????????’ through both text message, KakaoTalk, and Facebook Messenger to him, hoping the repetition of both sentiment and punctuation mark through multiple platforms is enough to faux-yell to him what you’d otherwise be real-yelling to him over the line. You can’t tell if it gives you any sense of comfort to see he hasn’t been online and active for the last 15 hours. 

All the tossing and turning of last night, courtesy of the endless loop replay of “I want you to like me — just me” Lee Jeno edition, had consequently left you worse for wear; you’d gotten up at the rising of the sun (something you’d sworn never to do during the weekend) and had opted to just stay in bed for another hour, trying so hard to get over the feeling of his fingers against your skin that you end up committing it to long-term memory. The sunlight peeking through your blinds is what gets you to throw off your covers and admit defeat to the fact that sleep would never come back at this rate, and you decide to just head down, rubbing the lethargy out of your eyes before you make a poor man’s breakfast. You’re halfway through the jelly slice of your sandwich when your sister comes through the doorway, yawning loud to announce her presence. 

“G’morning, bedhead baby,” she greets, and you use the non-knife-holding hand you have free to rake through your hair. “Big rager last night, huh?” 

“Yeah — wait, how’d you know?” 

“We live a door down from Jaemin oppa’s house? Na Jaemin? Our next door neighbor and his whole family? We can see out the window into his lawn? Sometimes we get our sidewalk trash cans mixed up with theirs? Hello?” Sooyeon smirks, albeit a little sluggishly, as you wave her grating words away. “I saw you out there with him, you know.”

“With who? Where? Who?” You demand, your jelly-laden knife freezing in mid-air, the grape blobs slipping dangerously off the edge onto the middle of your bread.

“You. And Jaemin oppa,” she says each syllable slowly. “In front of our house.” 

“Oh.” 

“So usually how these conversations go is: I bring up a juicy piece of information pertaining to you, and because you experienced it first hand, you have to then expound on the piece of information, thereby making it juicier. ‘Oh’ doesn’t cut it. Not by a long shot.” 

“There’s not much to tell.” You wonder, briefly, if you’re now obligated to bring up the Jeno aspect of the night — which, for all intents and purposes, honestly felt like more of a big deal than anything else — but you quickly decide against it, chickening out when she approaches you at the counter and starts unscrewing the lid of the peanut butter jar. That might be giving too much away, considering she didn’t even seem to notice that you’d been bawling when you’d crossed the property line. “He just walked me back here.”

“Oh, yeah, because that’s what people who live next to each other in a not-so-close-knit community do: walk each other two steps home, to keep the baddies away.” 

“He’s just a naturally nice person, I think. Most people are, aren’t they?”

“I thought you guys were close. Didn’t he give you his varsity jacket? That sounds like a closeness thing.” She knots her index and middle finger together, and you slap it away. 

“We’re close only in the same way as you are.” When she gives you a quizzical look, you sigh. “Proximity-wise.” 

“Still doesn’t explain why he was out there, caressing your hair lovingly.”

You freeze, as opposed to Sooyeon’s comically relaxed posture as she scrapes the peanut butter across your other slice of bread. “He… was not. Caressing me. My hair. Lovingly.”

“I have eyes for the sake of seeing.”

“There was just something in it. In my hair. A leaf.” 

You’re not sure why you lie; the largest part of the reason is that you don’t want to have to go into the horrifyingly awkward details of your emotional state last night, but there’s something oddly nagging at you that you can’t quite place. It takes a minute of staring at your sister spreading the peanut butter evenly across the bread and humming to herself while closing the sandwich up that you realize that you don’t want her getting the wrong impression about anything.

Which is weird, because there’s nothing to misunderstand. 

Jaemin, albeit the fact that he’s been chattier to you as of late, more so than any other time in your life, is still just your neighbor. Maybe he’s graduated from being your sort-of acquaintance to something that vaguely resembles an arm-distance-ish friend, but the notion that you’re anything closer than that makes you feel a bit strange — almost like it… scares you, which is extra weird to think about, because there’s actually nothing inherently harmful about being casual buddies with some guy who lives close enough to wave at you from his window. 

Maybe it’s because it’s Jaemin, and that’s what might be tripping you up the most. He’s not just Jeno’s friend; he’s practically some kind of counterpart to him, and it feels weirdly like a line you can’t cross. Or maybe it’s because… Jeno had asked you about him last night, which had made you feel even stranger. Like he’d been worried about something — like Jaemin was a no-go zone for him, specifically. 

As you dully watch your sister take a bite off of your breakfast, it dawns on you: maybe you just don’t want people to think you like anyone other than Jeno. 

“Okay, well, you know better than I do,” she singsongs in a tone that tells you that you actually don’t. Sooyeon doesn’t press, but she also doesn’t make you feel like the conversation is over — even if she trills I’m going back up; thanks for the sandwich in that same voice before leaving you alone in the kitchen with half of it on the plate. 

Because the truth is that you don’t really know; you don’t know what’s so unsettling about being associated with Jaemin. Your sister’s not aware of the intricate ins and outs of your (delusional) relationship with Jeno, apart from your (apparently evident to everyone) crush on him, but you also know she’s not really deeply invested in where your heart lies; all she does is make conversation, as is her personality, as a form of bonding you’ve never really quite been able to navigate well. 

You just don’t get why the mention of Jaemin, now, makes you feel… something. What that is, you’d rather not dwell on. So you just won’t. 

You’re walking out of the kitchen, cheeks filled with peanut butter and jelly, when you see block letters on cloth, spelling out a familiar last name: Na. 

You still haven’t given back Jaemin’s stupid jacket. 

Today is the day, you decide. This seems to have started the whole conversation to begin with: the jacket that somehow brought Jaemin two steps closer into your life, the article of clothing that had opened the door to what shouldn’t even be a talking point between you and anyone else. 

This should be the proverbial swan song for this whole topic; you snatch up his jacket (and immediately regret doing so in such a brutish manner, noticing you’ve got a few specks of breadcrumbs on the lettering) and head out of your house, your bedroom slippers absorbing morning dew as you march yourself over to your neighbor’s. You should’ve done this earlier, really; there was no reason for you to hold on to it. 

Honestly, you’d just forgotten, given that you were more preoccupied with things that started with L and ended with ee Jeno, but you’d rather not extend any more misunderstandings. 

And even if Jeno isn’t here to see this grand closing gesture, maybe, just maybe, this will help you stop feeling so cagey about everything he’d asked last night. 

I want you to like me — just me. 

Because why would he even think you liked Jaemin at all? Or make it sound like he thought you did? Ridiculous. Unfounded. Kind of alarming. 

There’s noise in the air the closer you get to the Na household porch; it sounds a bit muffled, like it’s fighting the breeze, but you realize thereafter that it’s music coming from a tiny speaker sitting on the hand railing. It’s playing Dongbangshinki’s Here I Am, and something about that song stirs your stomach into swooping ten miles down as you approach. 

Your initial plan was to ring the doorbell and pray that Jaemin was still knocked out cold on a Saturday morning so you could pass the jacket off to one of his parents and be done with it, but you’ve no such luck; it seems like he’s an early riser, considering how he’s seated right there, on a wicker chair by his door, hunched over a half-played chess board. There’s no one across him to block his view of you coming up the steps, and he looks up the moment he hears the creaks of the wood under your feet. 

“Hey, ______________,” he doesn’t look surprised; in fact, he looks a bit relieved, for some inexplicable reason. “Didn’t think you’d be up so early.”

“Could say the same for you.” You have no idea what causes heat to flush across your cheeks; has Na Jaemin’s gaze always been this intense? “Um. Good morning?”

“Morning.” His laugh is an easy one; it always has been, and it kind of suits him, you note, before you realize how weird it is to think that. “What’ve you got there? Gift for me?” 

“Wha — oh, yeah, I mean — no, but it is for you.” You hold up his jacket, hooked on your forefinger, to reveal it to him. “Sorry it took so long to give it back.”

This time, he actually looks a bit taken aback. “Did you stop needing it?” 

“Um… I haven’t really used it, if I’m being honest.”

“Oh. Well, there wasn’t any rush. You could’ve kept it for as long as you needed. No pressure, or anything. I’ve got others.”

“You don’t need it at practice, or anything like that?”

“No; most guys don’t even keep theirs. They give them away, for… you know. So it’s no big deal.”

You fall silent; for some reason, his tone makes it seem like he wants you to keep it, which is just preposterous. You instead hang the jacket onto the back of the wicker chair opposite him and step back, like you’ve just set up a land mine you’re afraid of detonating. 

“Well, thank you all the same. I really… appreciate your help. That day. You know.” You’re not sure why you can’t form any sentences long enough to signify you do actually belong in the same year level as him, but he at least doesn’t comment on your ineloquence.

Instead, he just stares for a bit, at the jacket and your retreating hand, before piping up over his music. 

“You wanna play a round?” 

“What? Oh, I’m…” You wave your hands aimlessly. “I’m not good at chess. Actually, I barely know the rules. Plus, you seem kind of busy playing against… your imaginary friend?”

He chuckles again. “Just playing myself.”

“Trying to outfox the old fox?”

“Sometimes it helps to know how you’d get out of a sticky situation you made by your own doing. Helps you see what your opponent sees when it all boils down to it.” He gestures again at the chair across him. “Humor me a little. It’s not as fun just talking to yourself.”

You hesitate for a second; you came here to return the jacket, and that much was done easily, albeit a little more awkwardly than you ever wanted to. Jaemin’s aura is laid back and friendly, but you’re not sure why you’re teetering on the edge of panic again. Jeno’s words seem to be echoing in your head.

And Jaemin is…?

Jaemin is your next-door neighbor, it’s true, but you can’t say that’s really your only point of connection; if it were, he wouldn’t be expectantly waiting for you to take the seat across from him. And when you look at his hand now, idle against the chessboard, you can’t say you aren’t thinking of the way it patted your hair soothingly the night before. All that does is make you wonder the exact same thing Jeno asked you. 

What is Jaemin to you? A friend, perhaps, and definitely a nice person — nice enough to help you out, keep you company during a few low points. He’s a person willing to listen to you, funny enough to lift your spirits, and genial enough to not break your fingers for returning his things way too late (a low bar, but a good one nonetheless). Na Jaemin is a good individual, with pretty good music taste (based on the fact that his playlist, trudging on next to him, is now playing H.O.T.’s Happiness), and a good disposition about him that seems to make no small amount of people gravitate towards him. 

But you don’t really want to dwell on what Jaemin is to you; more than that, you can only really be reminded of what he isn’t. 

He isn’t Jeno. 

And Jeno knows you like him; he’s not only noticed it but confirmed it multiple times in a single conversation. Surely, then, nothing else should matter to him — or, for that matter, to you. 

You swallow down the refusal and nod, trying not to read into the fact that Jaemin’s face lights up when you pull the chair back and settle down on it. 

“So let me get this straight; you don’t know how to play chess?”

“I know a couple of pieces go in weird directions,” you admit. “That’s about it.” 

“Perfect.” His long fingers drum against the wood of the table. “I’m going to whip you into competitive chess-playing shape, my young pupil.” 

What starts off as a casual, humor-filled lesson on the roles of each chess piece suddenly becomes an actual lecture; you’re not sure if Jaemin is getting a kick out of instructing a rookie like you on the different plays — which are infinite, a fact he’s drilled into you several times — or if he’s really just enthusiastic about the game (no, sorry, sport, since he’s chastised you about three times on this terminology already), but whatever the reason is, you have chess pounded into your brain for the better part of an hour. By the time he asks you to actually start playing against him, the sun’s fully up in the air and you’ve had to tie your hair up to keep it from sticking to your neck. 

“I’m glad you got home safe last night,” he hums, pushing his black pawn to meet yours in the middle of the board. The Italian Game, he called it — not to be confused with serenading someone over pasta, a different kind of Italian game. That had gotten a long laugh out of you. Your hands flit over the white pieces, unsure of your memory. You only respond when you’ve moved your bishop to the same row. 

“Well, it was a very long and tumultuous journey, but I managed, with some help.” 

His knight comes out next, smoothly and quickly; you pause, rubbing the back of your neck. Surely, there was something else he’d taught you? 

“What a chivalrous, ah, knight, that person must’ve been.” He raps a knuckle onto the table, starting you out of the act of racking your brain. “Perfect joke. Well-timed. Excellent chess pun. I think I deserve an award.”

“Does whooping my ass two moves into the game count as a prize?”

“I don’t want to rob you of the feeling of hope this early in the match. Take your time,” he chuckles, leaning back against the throw cushion behind him. He fiddles with the speaker, and the songs skip one by one, until he lands on a song you don’t know — some Japanese track that sounds suspiciously like an animation opening. It’s lively and admittedly a bit loud, and Jaemin hums to the guitar riffs with surprising accuracy. “Anything interesting happen when I left?”

You freeze for a moment, your fingers still hovering over your own knight in hesitation. You know what he’s asking, and for some reason, you’re tempted to tell him — then you remember that it actually isn’t really his business, and you don’t want to embarrass yourself. 

“Not really.” You feign casual disinterest as you move your knight above your pawn line; from here on out, you have no clue what to do. Jaemin, on the other hand, is so sure-footed about his own skills (which are infinitely more advanced than yours) that he doesn’t even take his eyes off you to look at the board as he moves his next piece. You’re stuck thinking about what to do again — in the game, that is. Not about his gaze, which you try to avoid. “Just, you know. Talked with Jeno for a bit. Nothing major.”

Nothing major to him, you remind yourself. To you, your entire world had just been flipped over onto its belly.

Jaemin hums again, this time in understanding, but you notice (from your very surreptitious glances of him) that this time, it seems like he’s choosing what to do. You think it’s for the game, but when he counteracts your own (poorly planned) move with a swift response from his own pieces, you get the odd feeling he’s trying to choose his words carefully. 

“Was it a conversation where you all got along?”

You hadn’t argued, but you’d never really thought about the whole stint long enough to classify it as good or bad. You supposed it wasn’t anything horrible in the end, although the fact that it had robbed you of precious hours of sleep wasn’t exactly the best outcome. But Jaemin’s not watching your expression now; he’s intently looking at the board, even if he’s not the one about to make the next move. 

You get the feeling he’s suddenly avoiding eye contact too, which is weird, because he’s never been one to shy away from looking you straight in the eye. For some reason, that makes you feel like he doesn’t want to hear an answer. 

“It was fine. Nothing… bad happened.” You know that’s true, but somehow you feel like it’s still not truth. “He explained… stuff. Who she was. Why it happened. Totally understandable stuff, I think.” 

You choose not to mention anything apart from that — that he’d asked you to like him, nor that he’d asked you about your relationship with Jaemin. More than deciding it wasn’t going to be anything contributive to the conversation at hand, you also just didn’t want to. 

Jaemin stays silent for a while; he moves his piece, then taps his queen — for some reason, he’s letting you know something about his next move. What it is, you haven’t puzzled out; it’s not like you know which direction he’d be taking, and even if you did, you’d surely not know how to respond to it, anyway. You guess he’s just throwing you a bone, but why he would, you also just don’t see the reason for. 

You’re pushing your pawn hesitantly diagonal to capture one of his when he speaks up again. 

“Did he tell you how it ended? With the two of them, I mean.”

He says it so calmly, capturing your bishop with his queen in the process, that you feel like you’re just talking about the weather and who won yesterday’s league basketball match. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, clearing your throat, but you only actually manage to shake your head. 

“She cheated on him. Some college guy that she met during her orientation; you know she’s older than him, right? He’s never dated seriously since then. I think he was really hung up on her for a while — until recently, that is. I think. He hasn’t been that close to many girls.” 

“That’s… that’s awful.” You’re not sure why Jaemin’s telling you this; it honestly feels illegal to know. “I didn’t think… anyone would. Cheat on him, I mean.” 

“Even good-looking bastards like him can have rotten luck.” Jaemin’s smile borders on wry. “I don’t know why she showed up, honestly. Word probably got around… but she probably just wanted to know what would happen if she stirred something up with him one last time. He likely didn’t see it coming.” 

You stare at the board, unsure of what to say. It makes sense, but something doesn’t really sit right with you either — why Jeno would let her come close to him at all, let alone allow her to completely eliminate the distance between his mouth and hers for longer than a second. Even thinking about it makes you want to throw up all over again. 

“But deep down, I don’t know if Jeno completely got over her.” Jaemin continues, snapping you out of your short trance. “For a while after, they kept in touch. I think they even tried to work it out, but… obviously, it wasn’t easy. Until now… I’m not really sure.” 

“Why,” you swallow hard. “Why… are you… why should I…”

“It’s not easy to be a player when you don’t know much about the game, is it?” He’s still staring at the board, but you get the sense that he isn’t just talking about chess. “Like I said, Jeno’s a pretty complicated guy. It’s not really my place to say anything, but…” Jaemin’s eyes flit upward for a second, and he offers you a small, almost pitying smile. “I think you need to know anyway.” 

“But it has nothing to do with me. His life… I mean, his ex, and stuff.”

“I’m not too sure about that. If you like him that much… doesn’t that just mean you want to be part of his life?” He topples a pawn of yours, but you barely register the clattering noise or the fact that he drags it unceremoniously off the board. “I think you should at least know what you’re getting into. Jeno hasn’t liked someone seriously for a while, but you seem… to be the opposite. How much do you actually know about what he’s like?”

You don’t know why that kind of hurts your feelings; maybe it’s just because you have to face some kind of truth about how you don’t know much about Jeno’s private life, as badly as you want to. You even have to hear about it from someone else — someone easily kicking your ass in a dumb chess match. 

“I think everyone has baggage,” you say slowly, pushing your rook forward. You realize it’s trapped behind two different pawns, so you’ve essentially backed the piece into its own corner. Jaemin doesn’t seem to care; he’s too busy executing what clearly is a ten-stage strategic win on the other side of the board. You don’t really care.

“That’s true,” he concedes, toppling your knight. “But some more than others, I think.” 

“If he wanted me to know, he would’ve told me, right? Yesterday, I mean.”

“That’s may also be true, although I can’t say that with absolute certainty.” He looks thoughtful, and the pause gives you a bit of reprieve — enough to make a bad move that you instantly regret the moment you put your one remaining bishop on a square. Something like amusement flickers across Jaemin’s face, but he doesn’t make a move immediately. “Do you know what makes chess such a great game? In my opinion, anyway.” 

“No?” The uncertainty in your voice is from a lack of understanding at the sudden shift in topic. 

“Whenever you play someone, you get to see what they’re like — what their priorities are, you know?” His finger lands on a rook, inching it back and forth with idle intent. “You see how their mind works, what they’re like when they’re winning or losing, and what they think of you. Check, by the way.” 

You’re silent as his rook captures your bishop, and he picks your fallen piece up and sets it aside with his growing pile of white. 

“I’ve actually asked Jeno to play with me a few times, just for the fun of it. Sore loser,” he laughs lightly, one hand reaching out to lower the volume of his music. You notice the opening bars of Winner’s Really Really come through moments before it’s toned down. “Doesn’t really know or care about the rules, but he really likes to win. That’s kind of what makes him the star player on the team, actually. He really hates being backed into a corner, but all that focus on winning kind of tunnels his vision sometimes. Leaves him open to some attacks from another angle. He really hates that — which is probably why we barely play chess together in the first place. Apart from the fact that he thinks it’s boring.” 

You’re staring at your pieces, now very pitifully winnowed down in number, and you feel stuck. You’re not sure what to do, but you’re pretty sure any move is going to make you look dumb in front of Jaemin, who’s clearly a pro — so much so that he seems to know what you’re going to do before you even decide yourself. 

“You know what I like about your playing style, though?” He interrupts your train of thought again. You look up from the board, bemused; you’ve just been struggling to humor him since your first move, and it obviously isn’t working, since he seems more invested in the conversation than in the game. “You’re just trying your best, even if you’re new at this — even if you think you’re going to lose.” 

“I just don’t want you to think I’ve forgotten everything you just said,” you respond, smiling weakly. 

“You can’t always predict what’s going to happen in a game, even if you know the pattern anyway. Isn’t that just natural about anything in life?”

“You seem to know, though,” you grumble, tugging on your ponytail. You throw in the only option you have left: pushing your queen in front of your king as a last line of defense. “You’re barely paying attention to the board.”

“It’s just constant practice — a lot of hard work on my part. I don’t mind the grind of it, if it gets me somewhere good in the end.” 

“So is that the kind of player you are? Just… a hard worker?” 

“Maybe. I like to look at things from every possible angle. I guess that’s why I like chess when most people find it a headache.” He picks up his queen, rolling it in his palm. “Although, I guess Jeno and I have one thing in common — as players, that is.”

“What’s that?”

“I also really hate to lose.” 

His queen knocks over your own with a pitiful clatter, taking its place on the board. When he picks up your piece, instead of adding it to his knockout count, he offers it to you. You take it gingerly, opting to focus more on it than on the soft smile that’s now playing on Jaemin’s lips. 

“Checkmate,” he announces lightly. “Good game, _____________. You’ve got the makings of a star player.” 

“You’re patronizing me, aren’t you?” You sigh as the two of you start resetting the board; you have to watch Jaemin’s pieces get rearranged to position your own. 

“Only a little bit. I see a lot of quiet drive in you.” 

You place the last of your pawns in a neat row; the board looks like it hadn’t even been touched. “Jaemin, how did you and Jeno become this close? You seem… I don’t know.”

“Yeah, we’ve definitely got our unique quirks,” he chuckles softly. “But Jeno and I… we just go way back, I think. When you’re friends with someone from a young age, you tend to grow with them. He’s a good dude, really, even if our personalities are different, and it’s always a fun event so long as he’s around. Well — mostly. I’d say a good ninety-nine percent of the time.” 

You pointedly ignore the sheepish smile he throws your way. 

“You said before that you’re not the type to… you know, share your feelings, and all that. Then how do you… like what do you guys even talk about?”

“What do you and Renjun usually talk about?” Jaemin grins. “Anything and everything, really. Movies, games, why the jerk from Yongsan International gets on our nerves when he chews his gum. We just… have a tendency to be interested in the same things, no matter if our perspectives are different.” 

While talking to Jaemin is fun, you can’t help but feel like he has a tendency to speak in riddles. You still don’t really see any strong similarities in their approaches to their interests, similar as they may be, but what do you know, anyway? It isn’t like you and Renjun are exactly peas in a pod on paper.

His eyes lose focus for a second, hitting somewhere behind your ear before they quickly turn back to you. You have no idea why this makes you feel a little put on the spot. 

“Hey, you want to have brunch here? My mom makes a mean soybean paste stew.”

“Oh,” you press your hand against your stomach, wondering if the swooping feeling in it is from hunger or something unrelated. “No, I actually just ha—”

“_____________?” 

You swivel around in the chair, and your heart stops; you're not the least bit prepared to see Lee Jeno standing at the foot of Jaemin’s porch steps, a quizzical look very clearly etched on his sharp features.

[entomolog-t]

What if a person just assumes the borrower is another human, just shrunk? I think most people wouldn’t immediately assume the very human-looking thing they’ve caught is another creature entirely (unless it’s one of those borrower versions with animal features like a tail and such). So the questions would be along the lines of: How did you shrink? Is there a way to get you back to normal?

The best part is that the ball is in the borrower’s court now. They have to choose between telling the human the truth about themselves, and potentially risk their safety by doing so. Or they could play along with the human’s assumptions and keep themselves in relative safety by letting the human think they’re one of them.

Obviously the lying option could lead to a lot of angst in the future if the human found out the truth. Especially if the human keeps trying their best to help the borrower get back to ‘normal size’ but nothing works, leaving the borrower wondering how long they’re willing to keep up the charade. Meanwhile the human gets more and more upset that they can’t help their tiny friend.

OH I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS

The sheer angst potential with the borrower assuming the only reason the human is treating them like an equal is because they think they're human? So they just dwell on it so much. At first they may feel smug, thinking that the human is stupid, but they realize they may have misjudged their own intelligence because why would a human just let a stranger who has been shrunk wander freely around their home?? So they've unwittingly committed themselves to be attached to the human until they can either find a good escape where they won't go looking for them, or until they admit what they really are.

As they spend time with the human they are less desperate for escape in some sense. The freedom from danger, the liberal amount of food, the comforts the human is willing to provide them... its nice. They miss their personal freedom, and keeping up this ruse is a bit exhausting since they aren't the most familiar with human culture.... but the human is ... nice.

They've grown a friendship with this human, and they want to be able to tell them the truth. They see how worried the human is about them... They've been freaking out about how to get ahold of their family, and how in the hell they're supposed to find a way to reverse it... and they do want their freedom of movement back... They make up their mind that they're going to tell the human but-

Theres a slip up.

Maybe they said something weird, maybe the human put together too many little clues, or maybe another borrower shows up. They panic. No no no no no. This was supposed to be on their terms. They can feel themselves hyperventalating. They don't even want to look at the human. This is at best humiliating, at worst... was the human angry?? they lied. they took advantage of their kindness. They feel a hand start to encircle them and they flinch out of it's grasp.

No.

No, of course they were angry. Why wouldn't they be??

"H-hey... are you okay?"

The words seem to stop all their thoughts. All they can feel is their heart pounding in their ears. They look up at the human... at their friend and see nothing but concern in their eyes.

It breaks them.

They sob into the hand. A mix of guilt and shame and relief and happiness. They're a mess. The human waits to ask questions but takes the new information in stride. Ehh, its not that much weirder than finding a shrunken person right?

That is.... until like... 4 hours later.

The borrower hears banging on the walls.

"Hey ! Uh.... How many times have you heard me being... um weird?"

The borrower can't help but laugh, knowing immediately what the human is talking about. They would constantly talk to themselves in weird little voices, make strange noises, sing to themselves... Hell, they did it to but its not like they had an audience.

"Um" they clear their throat, a little more reassured with a wall between them "... enough."

A resounding thud sends vibrations through the borrower's chambers as the human hits their head against the wall. The groan that follows has the borrower struggling to keep from laughing.

"Fuck you." They can hear their smile despite not seeing them.

This... this could work.

[plumsaffron]

The Fate Of Making Lila Become No.1 Part 2/2

Marinette: What are you talking about?

You're just breathing nonsense. You have to be a kid.

*In fear or hesitation* Lila: That may be true but if that's not,

then that sucks for many of you. Marinette: How could you say this like this is a joke?!

*As she's concerned and frustated* Lila: I remember Hawk Moth said he'd teach some kids what a man that has nothing left to lose can really do. Like you, I'm immune to being hurt. I learned to let go. 

Why are you offended? Don’t you feel venerated by me exposing myself?  You're getting what you wanted after all, all along. Marinette: (She's terrifying me. Maybe I did make a huge mistake. 

How would she know of what he said to uh m- um Ladybug and Cat Noir?)

Lila: Reconsideration from the inconsiderate? Too bad it's too late. *As she turns her head*

Marinette: What are you looking at? And she turns her head Marinette immediately jets towards them ADRIEN! ALYA! As she reaches the two in bad shape WHAT HAPPENED?! Alya: I I I... I... ...don't know. It's like... loses consciousness Adrien: I feel like my body... No... Marinette is horrified seeing part of his arm became ash grain Marinette: Did Cat Noir?! Adrien: No, he wasn't even present. 

I don't know... What h- I wish I... protect y- loses consiousness

Marinette: ADRIEN! No this can't be happening! sees Alya's shoes and her left shin fragment with ashes ( Lila: Thanks for The Number One Headband. Marinette: What?! How?! What is that?

And why is this other one on the floor?!

Lila: Ah, that's The Number Two Headband by your feet?

Even if you didn't know what language that said,

I think common sense would tell you the difference between 1 & 2. 

Marinette: I had The Number One Headband? Lila: Technically Monarch did but it seems it was given away to you. I wonder what you did that would make you earn it?

I would expect Ladybug to have it but I guess there’s something really unique about you.

I’ve always been branded with Number Two for reasons based upon you or outsiders.

Unfortunately, it seems I've been branded as Number One now. And this is the fate you are seeing of your friends. 

All thanks to you and your outsiders wanting stuff against me that never needed to exist. 

You and their sharing obsessive ways against me. Stupid challenges and you guys gained stupid prizes. Marinette: Did you make all of this happen? Did you ruin everything?

Lila: The answer is in the mirror. Marinette: I don't have time for your stupid riddles. Lila: The answer is yes and no.

Marinette: Stop playing around! I am so sick of you! Answer me, NOW! Lila shakes her head Lila: Because I existed, this happened. But I did not cause this. It was the outsiders and how they value you, 

or see somethings that triggered them.

That is why your friends faced this fate. Marinette confused and sad Marinette: But why? Why would they do this? Lila: I told you why earlier. Think about it.

And there's plenty more if you didn't catch on. Marinette seeing more of friends distances away around her in similar states

Marinette: No, this isn't real. (This has to be a nightmare.) 

Sulking and then sees Harmonie crying on bed of ashes Marinette begins to cry Lila moves her head down and starts laughing at the revelations Marinette is witnessing Marinette: Devil Incarnate! as she opens her teary eyes in fury at Lila's laughter

She dashes to grab her shoulder, pinching or squeezing it Marinette: HOW CAN YOU BE THIS AWFUL! LAUGHING AT THIS SUFFERING! YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT YOURSELF! Lila: You're assumptions make me laugh stronger and further.

You'll never change. FFFFAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA... Marinette fists clench as she's seeing Lila head rotates upwards while still laughing at her sorrow Marinette: What part of not funny do you not understand?! Lila smiles knowing the crying Marinette is going to hit her. 

Punches her face and Lila bounces a few times

After several seconds she starts laughing and gets up Lila: You lost and are so lost. But it's okay because the outsiders see everything you do as a favor to both worlds. So this moment you commit something like this or above, it’s a peak victory. 

She starts giving her applause

continuously remains clapping Marinette: Stop this, you are annoying me. As she’s wiping her tears Lila: Lets give it up to the annoyer that now chooses to be annoyed. Keep giving the outsiders what they want! Marinette: I said Stop Clapping! Lila: Look out, an arrow coming your way.

Marinette: Like I'd bel- dodges while freaked out Marinette: (What was that?!) You knew this? Why would you...? Lila: That's not important. I guess you have not noticed you've been hit or darted. Marinette: What, what do you mean? Lila: Look around yourself. Marinette is disturbed at seeing them darts Shouldn’t I feel this? (Why is this not hurting me?) Lila: Same reason you or mostly they, 

decide to notice me and not anything else around, 

or in your face, or that has been well established. Isn't it funny what you did against me and Chloe with Sabrina's help, but you wanna complain about Chloe sending your former teacher to the office, yet you both caused Juleka to suffer greatly?

Lila: I thought you considered stealing Adrien's phone a crime that would jail you for life. But hey, forging twice is cool as long as you blame shift. Privacy invasion and humiliation is a merciful act of friendship and harmony. Marinette: How do you know of something that specific in my past. (OH NO! SHE MUST KNOW OF MY DIARY!) Squirming Marinette

Lila: You need to chill.

Nah, you never could unless things go as you want. 

Observe what happened due to your failure to chill, control freak.

Both observing Parisians with stuff piercing around their bodies Marinette runs towards one and asks what happened One said these arrows and shape objects spawned out of nowhere and they weren't able to dodge and they aren't able to remove it Lila: Now are you understanding what's going on? Marinette runs towards The Ice Cream Man Andre: Nooooo. My precious desserts for couples has become all ash.

All of my supplies are in ashes. I just wanted to give products of love to the people. Marinette: I'm sorry this is happening to you. Can I- Lila: LOL, why are you sorry?

This person doesn't even care of verifying if his food is safe. Marinette: I and no one here suffered from his products made with love and kindness. Lila: Oh lookie here at what happened to who called him out.

She sees on video billboard some clothes floating on a lake of ashes Dupain Cheng is horrified Lila: I guess the world that was happy with her departure never expected this. Sucks this is the fate the poor thing that used to be a fan of The Bug. I wonder why this happened or why the outsiders would do this.

Certain outsiders are celebrating this.

Though I guess since the clothes didn't perish at all, it must mean there are still enough outsiders there for her in this time of unfortunate circumstances bestowed against her. Actually I already know the answer. Marinette: I didn't mean for this is happen. Lila: Seems you are finally understanding what the outsiders are.

*walking* Marinette: Where are you going?

Lila: Hey Theo. Could you take me out for lunch? *winks twice while smiling* Theo: Umm... Okay. He walks away Marinette: Did you just ask him to go on a date? Lila: I asked if he can take me to somewhere that has good food. Hmmmmmmm And so she begins laughing with her mouth closed Marinette: Oh no... Lila: Do you know how old he is? Marinette: Uh umm? What's with this age question? Why do you keep talking about ages? Where are you going with this?! Lila: I thought he was like some janitor of the school or some teacher assistant. Apparently he's like around 16 to 18. He might be an adult or not. 

He's like how the outsiders now want for me for real to be but got angry he apparently isn't not. 

It's a long story. 

However, like I said, he's around of from earlier for real. 

It’s understandable why but not why they would want the very thing they hated of him to be known; 

to now wish to be instilled in reverse upon me. 

It’s almost like they want to ignore that I was clearly the friend Adrien's age.

Lila: But since they want to seek the opposite now, that means me and Theo could be a cute couple instead of that other girl, below your grade, that he held hands with once with in a digital realm. Marinette: Uugck YUCK You're... I- I CANNOT! YOU! GRITTING HER TEETH Lila: What's wrong with that? Some outsiders pair me up with Mr. Agreste and will gain stronger excuses for me to be with everyone than before. I heard that Ladybug say she was older than a high schooler to for some reason. Don’t be upset at what you hear. Be upset at Old World society. I wonder if the city of love normalizes 15 year olds with 20 to 26 at least year olds in romantic galore too. Marinette: WHAT?! WHO WHY!? Who are these outsiders you speak of?! Lila: People like you on a much higher plain of your toxic ways.

Marinette: You're body. It's-

Lila: Rotting? Of course it is.

It’s not far away because they always want me to rot. It's their will or sole purpose.

However, as you see, for some reason… 

I'm not falling apart like your friends. I am still intact. 

I wonder why you are though? In fact, it's like endless ashes for me. Marinette: But why wasn't Theo attacked like you, me, and the others?

Lila: Outsiders have strange priorities of proxying individuals and ignoring others. Even if they are and do worse. I'm their main charm to chastise. He's ignored. People decide when to brush things off and when to foam like you. Marinette: You don't even sound like Lila. Are you possessed or controlled? Lila: Ah... This what happens when an ultimate gains outsider insight about or from outsiders. Marinette: So you're speaking like an outsider? Lila: Likewise. I'd say, you seem less unstable than usual but there's always something that cracks you it seems. Earlier you were disgusted. Earlier you were aggressive and sad. How you instantly change or glitch. Momentary Marinette. Marinette: What do you want? Why are you making me aware of this? 

What is your goal? Your purpose? Motive?

Lila: Giving you all what you want and showing you all the fallen sanctuaries of your stupidities. 

Showing you all the failure of only seeing things of reform, redeem, lock away, or death. 

Lila: This is just The Bitterness Of Truth that needs to be known.

Other outsiders wish your friends didn’t face penalties that many outsiders unfortunately pinned on them due to me.

Still, they at times help the markers flourish due to them not looking the consequences of how many think against me.

This may be due to how they also accidentally agreed upon me in questions to me being the scapegoat or as so many outsiders kin of original sin. Marinette: What do you mean end their chapter? You mean... as she covers her mouth

Lila: That...is the power of my existence. It causes divine instability amongst the outsiders. Making them lose their minds over me beyond you. They shall pick purposely when see things black and white. Many take eyes for an eye and will or wish of making anything happen, while yearning for destruction to anyone that doesn't fit your mantra or their mantra. But why would you care? They're doing you a favor. Making sure and wanting any way that discredits me completely. Even though I know the real truth and you and Ladybug must know the real truth.

Lila: No matter what is done towards me. It takes next to nothing for me to easily be turned against. Rebounding hurts them.

All else, this is harder. Still, I find it amusing how Ladybug's greatest deception is nothing but a speck of dust compared to me.

Or that it took that long for the gullible outsiders to reconsider that she screwed up royally and had a history of epic screwing of allies or friends.

Oh the denial and masking. Masking? I guess outsiders are quite heroic like Ladybug or you. Only around a few or speck amounts that truly see me in a distinctive way or see it's not like most going out their ironic deceiving ways to portray things as. MARINETTE: KAGAMI! Zooms towards her She sees Kagami tears running of ashes

Kagami: Why, Marinette. Why did you do that to Lila? Marinette: I- She. She was a bad person. I did what I had to do. Kagami: You're lying. Marinette shattered from her words Marinette: I- I was... protecting my friends. And you. 

Kagami: No you weren't. Do you not remember, she was my friend? I thought... You said you would listen to your friends.

I thought you said my words reminded me of what Alya told me. I thought that you would…change. Kagami: Instead, you only thought of yourself. And now she's gone...because of you. Adrien made me put my trust in you.

That you were everything. Everything special and a true friend.

My best friend. I...was... Irrational. *That word gave Dupain Cheng a chill*

Kagami: What about those that meant something to her? 

All because- 

because you refused to accept or ignore her. 

I ignored Chloe. I don’t engage with her. 

What's your excuse with Lila? I... Can't… Is Ladybug why Chloe changed...?

Was this because of me? Because I liked Adrien...?

Marinette: No no. It’s not what you- I um It wasn’t...

Kagami: Lila was right...

I should have never let you… And Adrien...break me apart. Marinette: KAGAMI! KAGAMI! GET UP! PLEASE! She's not breathing just endless watering ashes from her shut eyes

Lila: Poor girl. Sad thing about her is that outsiders found new ways to make it out like she's your betrayer. And that's basically one of the reasons why she...

They did the same to call her Adrien’s betrayer. Though that’s more understandable, but it seems they forgot the both of you made her feel that you are the jewel to everything. Kind of like Ladybug is the only jewel Parisians feel like seeing.

Oh how Cat Noir is still devalued. Well...it do be like that. Another instance of what happens when you don't do exactly as the outsiders want or expect. Even if they see that you and Adrien made her feel like this for you. Is this why Adrien truly accepts you now?

Lila: Still sobbing? Feeling bad at last for many you could have stopped? Oh well. I'll just keep rambling. Truth is...

They see or saw her as the second coming of their divine play they played upon themselves with you as their ringleader.

All because she was the second in your way like me. Heh even when she supports your dreams for some reason and satisfies the many outsiders interests. She does something that they think is so bad, they'll treat her like before. I'm now convinced that if any of your friends deflect from you upon their own will, 

the outsiders would call them the devils like you say I am.

Marinette: Please, Lila! I don't want to see any more of this.

I don't want this experience! This shouldn't be happening.

Why IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME?!

MAKE IT STOP MAKE THIS STOP! Despairing and weeping

Lila: Now you want to quit?

You didn't quit earlier for me over something so ignorable. I guess you do pick what to stomach. Too bad. Accept this agony. 

This is what desperation and their foolishness to want you to be validated 

and me invalidated by any means really means. Lila: They can't even see they do not have to be like this but they won't ever and it shall never end. 

It's not your fault that these outsiders are being like this. 

If it wasn’t me, they probably would do like Sabrina 

and find someone else to blame solely specifically. 

It reminds me of a few games I played or shows I watched. 

However, you unfortunately gave some them direction 

or what it means to be goodie twisted two-shoes. Marinette: I didn't ask for this. I JUST WANTED… Lila: Again, this is what happens when you and many outsiders don't think things through 

or become too invested in things going a specific way and refusal to let me or anyone like me go. 

Try to grow cause outsiders mostly won't. 

You and outsiders need to get better at seeing things from a different angle,

instead of locking or involving yourselves against me and wanting to be inexcusably correct. Cat Noir walking and wobbling

The very last thing Marinette needed to see Cat Noir: I'm sorry I failed you and everyone. I...could not...stop what happened. Her last hope turns into ashes in front of her. She screams in terror and sadness and this environment Gets up In her room Marinette: It Was A Dream!? She's quaking and trembling for a few minutes Marinette: (I need to get some breakfast.)

That dream... As she leaves her room An akuma exitted her room but a headband with one on it is present.

*Somewhere Else But Unknown*

Nooroo: Did you really have to do that? Lila: This is a warning for her and outsiders that don't think things through 

or don’t see how they or others can create damage that they can't undo. And the endless cycle of the collective outsiders madness. Nooroo: It affects more than who they see as the target. Lila: Yep. Nooroo: So you wish she'd change? Lila: Many to change or even reduce the amount of crazy magnets in the outsiders' never ending journey. I think you need to find a way to free yourself and have complete control.

Nooroo: Is this outsider info again?  Lila: Just think of what I said.

I'm going to sleep now. That session was off the hook. Nooroo: (...Whatever you say.) Seeing The No. 2 Headband

Return to Part 1/2

[sparrowmoss]

aight back on it. the acolyte ep 7 live reaction. this is going to be so bad

ahhh here we go. the full story (i presume). wonder what theyre looking for

SEVEN WEEKS… i’d be throwing a fit too

oh this concept is cool as FUCK!!!! a vergence… yes… i love it. but i think they may be wrong. idk

sol having beef with indara and her saying well thats why i have a padawan and you do not HFHEHFJEHFKDF

need that speeder bike

bro mother koril just teleported

from what little he saw of that interaction i dont blame him for being concerned but maybe also realize u dont have the whole picture

why the fuck did mother aniseya do this to this kid what the hell. what the fuck is happening

i think. both sides are wrong honestly. only at 15 mins in but sol saying that his assumption that osha is not being cared for properly here does not mean that the jedi order or any singular member of it has any right to come in and take this child from her family by force without some sort of clear assessment of her actual treatment beyond a few glimpsed moments and without first consulting the child as to what she needs at all. to me this should have been handled by someone without a bias of wanting osha to come with them to be a jedi through claiming to feel a bond with her/that she is “meant to” join them

ummm this is getting alarming i would have assumed mae meant in the future but no indara knew she meant. like. Now. like Tomorrow. were they. were they all going to sacrifice themselves in mass suicide

NOOOOO I WAS RIGHT NOOOOO WHAT THE HELLLLL

sol why you so twitchy

bro what the hell is with the jedi order in this time period you all are fucked. council says no you cant take the kids also you cant come home/leave the planet where you have created hostility also you have interfered too much. theyre in danger. it doesnt matter. you formed an immediate emotional attachment. yelling that you arent emotional. can you all please get it together

oh shit they found out. ohhhh aniseya used the vergence to create them. WHAT

one consciousness into two bodies what the fuck

TORBIN ITS NOT FUCKING WORTH ITTTTT

i think aniseya was going to let osha go

ABIGAIL!!!!!!! im so glad she got a couple more lines because for real shes the main reason i got interested in this show in the first place KFJDJFJSF

please use the force to get up that damn wall ill cry if i have to see you climb it again

ohhhh this is all so fucked dude im so nervous for whatevers about to happen

oh no mae tried to put it out and couldnt nooooo NOOOOO

LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOO aniseya u dont know how right u are

um. instead of going to help mae. koril decided to fight the jedi?

HUH????

SOL WHAT THE FUCK? WHAT THE FUCK? WHAT THE FUCK?

this is so fucked dude everything is SO bad

THATS how they died??????? being forced out of group mind controlling kelnacca????

fuck. fuck fuck fuck

indara beat the shit out of this guy please. “i had to make a choice” sol patrol it is so over

man i was prepared for pain with this episode but i was not prepared for how fucking angry i would feel oh my GODDDD im gnashing my teeth EVERYTHING went wrong my GOD. if these people on both sides could have not jumped to violence as a first resort. not both immediately assumed the worst of the other side. these two little girls never would have had to be put through any of that. it makes me so much angrier that the girls were the source of this fight that didnt need to happen and suffered so immensely from it and the jedi can go on with their lives despite that guilt but osha and mae lost everything. every choice was made for them every option was taken from them everyone they loved was killed and every dream they had was ripped away. im so fucking mad

[lightofraye]

it’s obviously disgusting making assumptions on a celebrity’s family/privet life. Not everyone likes public affection and a celebrity is allowed to keep certain aspects/ stuff privet. How would you feel if you were a celebrity and a stranger/ fan makes assumptions on your private life? Not good right? Yet you do it with other people? That makes you a hypocrite.

Hello anon.

Um.

You realize people gossip about people all the time, right? Not just celebrities. I’m sure my neighbors gossip about me. Coworkers. I’m sure they talk about you. Not just strangers, I’m sure your friends and family do too. As do mine.

So why are the Ackles exempt? Because you stan Jenneel? Where is the line for that? When does it become okay to talk about them?

See… I only started because I recognized patterns of abuse, from Danneel to Jensen. Then I saw some reactive behavior from him about her.

Then I noticed troubling behavior in him that signal some deep problems that sparked concern.

So you see… abuse is a global concern. It should never be a private issue to sort out. Because the more we talk about it, the less shameful it becomes, the more laws can be enacted to protect people. More services to be available to help.

The argument of “Well, I prefer Pepsi” versus “Coke is better!” is definitely nothing to worry about. But when the argument turns into actual attacks, then we should worry. (To use as an example.)

Far too often, abuse is hidden, ignored, excused. It shouldn’t be. Under that massive umbrella is child abuse, sexual abuse, emotional and mental, physical abuse.

Each and every single one needs to be recognized as the serious issue that it is. There shouldn’t be “Suck it up, be a man!” Or “It happened years ago, get over it!” Worse: “They’re their spouse! They don’t need to ask!”

What I’ve largely discussed about the Ackles is in fact a public concern.

I’m horrified that you think ANYTHING Danneel had done is okay. It isn’t.

[aitadinnerwex]

Your story doesn't add up, there are too many logical inconsistencies. Just gonna copy+paste a great comment from BORU:

"Starting with the very beginning… So they broke up but lived together and coparented without dating anyone else for YEARS? But she was okay with him dating as long as she got to meet the lady first? Ummmm… Possible, but not realistic. Except then why would he take their daughter clothes shopping without OP while she is just chilling at home? Then turn around before they even get to the store because GF summoned him…? He’s managed to secretly date for 6 months then randomly ditches his crying daughter back off to expose him. Could happen, but again it is odd. He calls to smooth it over and OP is all, “I was hoping we could FINALLY coparent in peace.” Um, finally? Because as of 2 days ago y’all were living together in a separated-while-together bliss. Suddenly the new GF moves in with the in-laws. OP assumes she can just show up like it’s fine without speaking to any of the adults. But she wouldn’t want to put the kid in the middle, oh no! The in-laws back away and she has a “sneaky suspicion” it is because of the new GF. As we used to say, no shit Sherlock. Can we also take a moment to acknowledge that OP has a very unique situation where she doesn’t have any financial concerns with Ex moving out. Also has more free time than FIL to take MIL to medical appointments etc. Naturally new GF also has such free time. “There is no custody agreement.” I am mentioning that even though it never occurred to me to get one until the later comments bring it up. Remember, I don’t think kids should be put in the middle. That’s why my child decides who to stay with at her whim. Panic attack over a jury notice… What? Daughter is a daddy’s girl that mostly chose to stay with her dad. Even after K moved in. (Which seemed to have happened immediately.) But they should make official the status quo that daughter mostly stays with OP and only visits dad. Which is it!?! That’s before we get into the cartoonish caper. Through I appreciated that OP explained to us what a safe is used for and how it works."

Yeeaahh, I saw this ended up on Reddit. Yay for me, truly.

You know what? Screw it, let's be petty and respond to strangers speculating about my life point by point.

"Starting with the very beginning… So they broke up but lived together and coparented without dating anyone else for YEARS?

When did I say we never dated anyone else for years? I went on a few dates and so did my ex, but that wasn't relevant to the post so I didn't see the need to recount his or my dating history. I'm not really interested in getting into another serious relationship at this point in my life and thought it was the same for my ex. To be fair, that was an assumption on my part because when we were living together we mostly just talked about chores and bills and our daughter, we didn't discuss life plans or our love lives anything. It would just occasionally come up that he had been on dates with various women and if it did I would say something like "Cool. How did it go?" to be cordial, and he would usually respond with "Fine". Before K I never saw any signs that he was getting serious about anyone, and I never asked for details.

But she was okay with him dating as long as she got to meet the lady first? Ummmm… Possible, but not realistic.

When did I say I had to meet every girl he dated? I have no idea how many women he dated in between 2020 and 2023. I DID assume if he ever got serious about someone he would tell me about her before making her a fixture in our child's life, though. And yes, that much was on me. I really did just assume we could have a casual roommate relationship where we didn't really talk about personal stuff, but also be coparents who discuss anything that might affect our child at the same time. I agree that's pretty contradictory looking back.

Except then why would he take their daughter clothes shopping without OP while she is just chilling at home? Then turn around before they even get to the store because GF summoned him…? He’s managed to secretly date for 6 months then randomly ditches his crying daughter back off to expose him. Could happen, but again it is odd.

The "why would he take his daughter clothes shopping while OP is at home" bit is odd to me. Why did a father take his daughter to buy things she needed? Do I need to be there for her to get clothes? Is this a "all dads are incompetent parents" thing? Because before all this happened I would have said he was a pretty good dad.

As for that specific incident: My daughter wasn't crying in her dad's car, she was actually mad at him. I was working on my laptop and I heard a car door slam from inside and our dog started barking like someone was there. A second later the front door slammed, which surprised me because I thought they'd be gone for another hour at least, so I went to see what was going on. I saw my daughter stomping to her room looking like she was about to cry from frustration. I asked her what was wrong and that's when she started crying. I agree my original wording made it sound like she was sadly crying her eyes out in the car, when I should have clarified she's an angry crier, as that changes the context.

I can't say with 100% certainty why K called and wanted my ex to come over right away, and why my daughter couldn't be there for that when she had met K before. But considering she was living with her son at the time and they also took drugs together? I'm assuming her son was out of the apartment and she wanted my ex over to do adult things or drug related things, but I have no way of confirming that.

He calls to smooth it over and OP is all, “I was hoping we could FINALLY coparent in peace.” Um, finally? Because as of 2 days ago y’all were living together in a separated-while-together bliss.

You know how they say "ignorance is bliss"? I THOUGHT we were coparenting peacefully, only to find out my ex had been, for reasons unknown to me, coercing my child into lying to me to cover up his relationship for god knows how long. I did not know how long or for what reason at the time and didn't want to stress out my daughter by pressing for more details when she was already upset over her dad moving out. So yes, those few days I was thinking a lot about how long things must have been going on for, and how a situation I thought was peaceful was anything but just under the surface.

Suddenly the new GF moves in with the in-laws.

I agree it was pretty sudden. It happened about 2 and a half months after my ex moved out, so they had only been dating for 8 months or so. I did not know why at the time and it wasn't my business to ask. I now know she had been kicked out of her son's house for her drug use and had nowhere else to go.

OP assumes she can just show up like it’s fine without speaking to any of the adults.

I did assume that, yes. FIL and MIL have always had an open door policy for family, and at the time I thought I was still being included in family. It was not uncommon for me, or my ex, or my daughter, to come over unannounced. I mentioned that in the post, but only in passing, so maybe I should have expanded upon that more: I showed up without telling FIL and MIL I was coming all the time. They were always happy to receive me, or at least give me a "sorry, not a good time, can you come back tomorrow?"

But she wouldn’t want to put the kid in the middle, oh no!

K and my ex were mad at me for coming over and were being pretty toxic about it. My daughter invited me over. If I told them that, they could have directed that toxic anger towards her. I would rather them be angry at me than her, when just by me ASKING if she had asked if it was ok that I come over, I had made her realize that wasn't a smart move. She felt bad for doing it. The lesson had been learned. I didn't need them blowing up at her like my ex was at me, so yes I didn't throw her under the bus to save my own skin in that situation. Should I not have done that? Maybe, but I honestly can't say I regret doing it.

The in-laws back away and she has a “sneaky suspicion” it is because of the new GF. As we used to say, no shit Sherlock.

I agree, hindsight is 20/20, and I should have known a new variable (K) might have meant the status quo of me coming and going from FIL and MIL's house as I please had changed. I had genuinely not considered she might have a problem being around me, and that's the whole reason I was concerned I might be TA. That is, as we used to say, my b.

Can we also take a moment to acknowledge that OP has a very unique situation where she doesn’t have any financial concerns with Ex moving out. Also has more free time than FIL to take MIL to medical appointments etc. Naturally new GF also has such free time.

This is really presumptuous apropos of nothing. Just because I did not discuss my financial situation in the post (because it was not relevant) doesn't mean my ex moving out didn't put a financial strain on me. It did. I DID have more time to help FIL and MIL out when my ex lived with me, because having 2 incomes and splitting household costs meant I could work less hours. The flexible hours coupled with the fact I've worked remotely for a few years now meant I could be the one to stay with MIL in the hospital. I would sleep in her hospital room and stay with her all day (often times glued to my laptop, but still there physically at least), then go home to shower, change, and make dinner for myself, my daughter, my ex, and FIL. Drive the food over to FIL and visit with him for an hour or 2, then drive back to the hospital and stay the night with MIL.

When she got out of the hospital I switched to only going over 2 or 3 times a week, usually to be the one to accompany her to doctor's appointments or physical therapy or grocery shopping or to clean. But they would also invite me over just to do fun things sometimes, like go karting or fishing or out to dinner.

After my ex moved out I picked up another job, and right now I'm on call at one or the other job 6 days a week. K didn't have a job, but (according to MIL) got disablity checks every month. I didn't ask what kind of disability she had, because it's none of my business and not relevant to anything concerning me.

“There is no custody agreement.” I am mentioning that even though it never occurred to me to get one until the later comments bring it up.

It didn't occur to me to get one not because I wasn't aware custody agreements exist, but because I genuinely didn't think about the fact that my ex might try to take my child from me. Call me naive, I know I was, but it just never occurred to me as a possibility before all this started to happen. He had given me no reason to think he might do something like that. To me "custody agreement" meant piece of paper setting up a schedule for where the child goes and when, and that's what I meant by "there is no custody agreement" in the first instance. I knew they existed, it just didn't occur to me I needed one, and that was my bad. I've said so.

Remember, I don’t think kids should be put in the middle. That’s why my child decides who to stay with at her whim.

This is an odd sentiment to me as well. Yes? I don't think a child should be put in the middle as a "Well don't look at me, look at her! She did it!" when their parents are arguing over something. But they should also get a say in who they would like to live with? Plus my daughter isn't a toddler. If that were the case I would absolutely want to a court order to split time with her as equally as possible, but she's almost a teenager now. She's her own person and should get some say in where she goes and when.

Panic attack over a jury notice… What?

Sometimes people have irrational fears, and my ex was irrationally anxious about going to court for any reason. Yes he's been to jail before, no he didn't have a traumatic event happen in a court room that I'm aware of. He just felt like being there made him extremely anxious and didn't want to go back for any reason. Idk what to tell you beyond I'm not gonna dive further into the father of my child's personal anxieties to justify a post for the internet.

Daughter is a daddy’s girl that mostly chose to stay with her dad. Even after K moved in. (Which seemed to have happened immediately.) But they should make official the status quo that daughter mostly stays with OP and only visits dad. Which is it!?!

She WAS a daddy's girl that loved her dad and was slowly starting to warm up to K, until all this stuff happened, and then she was mad at her dad and K and didn't want to talk to them until they apologized to her. Idk how that is hard to follow.

And while she mostly chose to stay at MIL and FIL's house back then, it was not her primary residence. All official school and medical documents listed her address as MY house. She doesn't have her own room at MIL and FIL's house, she sleeps on the couch, she brings clothes in her backpack, etc. My house was her primary residence where she DID have a bed, her own room, a closet full of clothes, etc. Most days she would get off the bus from school at our house, hang out with me for a while, then grab some clothes and ask me to drop her off at FIL and MIL's house. Or ask her dad to come get her. Sometimes the answer was no, but for the most part neither of us had a problem letting her come and go as she pleased, and she was also content to be like that.

That’s before we get into the cartoonish caper. Through I appreciated that OP explained to us what a safe is used for and how it works."

I agree the original description was cartoonish, as I was reporting what a 12 year old had told me about an incident she did not see and had only heard about. Children lie, children exaggerate, children misremember. I wouldn't have mentioned the money being stolen at all had I not been able to confirm it by seeing my MIL complain about it on Facebook. I said as much myself back in December.

And I felt the need to explain the safe required both a key AND combination because not every safe does? Some only need one or the other.

[angstea]

i'm taking back the number of the beast ('cause six is not a pretty number)

Fandom: Good Omens

Ship: Ineffable Bureaucracy/Boxfly

Summary: "Why did you change your face?"

The question came out of nowhere, shattering the gentle silence that had preceded. Beelzebub glanced up from their book to find Gabriel watching them intently.

"I already told you, I just felt like it was time for a change."

"But that's not the reason, is it?"

Or, the real reason Beelzebub changed their face.

TW: Self harm and suicide

AN: Based on a post by @medusatarian

Also quickly, gonna explain the assumptions around demons/angels and their corporations I'm working under just in case so we're all on the same page. Things that kill a human can kill a demon/angel's corporation and they're more resistant to stuff like drugs and alcohol but they can still die to it, it just takes Way More :] also even if it's not too obvious, Beelzebub is intended to be autistic. Title is from My Alcoholic Friends by Dresden Dolls

Read on AO3

"Why did you change your face?"

The question came out of nowhere, shattering the gentle silence that had preceded. Beelzebub glanced up from their book to find Gabriel watching them intently.

"I already told you, I just felt like it was time for a change."

"But that's not the reason, is it? You had the same face for 6000 years and then change it for no apparent reason, about...a week after failed Armageddon? Why would you make that choice then instead of before when you thought the world would end?"

Beelzebub shrugged and returned their gaze to the book, trying to hide the fact that he was onto something. "I don't know. Why does it matter?"

The room went quiet again but it was an uneasy silence and Beelzebub could tell Gabriel wasn't about to let this go.

"You weren't yourself. You were good at acting like normal but something was wrong, I could tell." he sounded so concerned, it made them sick.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Beelzebub's mask of nonchalance was slipping under Gabriel's persistence. They switched their tactic. "Why are you being so insistent about this?"

"You're avoiding the topic." he could tell something was wrong.

"There's nothing to avoid." they continued to lie, even if Gabriel could tell he was getting somewhere.

"Then why won't you tell me what was wrong?" his voice conveyed so much sympathy and worry.

"Because nothing was wrong!" they practically snarled the words, fixing their angry stare away from Gabriel.

"Beez, look at me." Gabriel's voice was soft and Beelzebub suddenly felt guilty for snapping at him. They brought their eyes up and Gabriel's expression was so soft and full of love and concern that it made their chest ache.

"Fine. Maybe...maybe I wasn't okay." They hoped that small confession would satisfy him, but they knew better.

"What happened, honey?" Gabriel's hand cupped their cheek and their expression crumpled. Something in them desperately wanted to tell him even as their stomach twisted with shame. The guilt made it impossible to look at Gabriel's face so they cast their eyes to the floor.

Gabriel pulled them in close, head pillowed against his chest. They stayed silent.

"You know you can tell me anything, don't you?"

They nodded hesitantly.

"So tell me, please."

The silence persisted a for a few moments before Beelzebub took a few fortifying deep breaths. Their mouth felt dry as they forced the words past their lips. They could barely hear themself over the pounding of their heart.

"I, um...I - I discorporated myself." The room fell quiet and the air felt heavy with their confession.

"Why..?" Gabriel's tentative question only made the guilt worsen.

-

Armageddon had failed.

The world was just as intact as it had been before and the war with Heaven was off for now.

Of course Beelzebub would bare the blame. It had been their responsibility to lead the charge against the Angels afterall. They had been the one to go to Earth to attempt to negotiate with the Antichrist and they had failed.

10 million demons hungry for war, having had the opportunity for battle ripped away at the last moment, had redirected their venom from the Heavens to Beelzebub. Even if they couldn't do much against a Grand Duke of Hell, it was still difficult.

Even if no one said anything to their face, Beelzebub could still feel the hatred bubbling beneath the surface, could still hear the whispers about how they had failed.

They were a failure.

The word tasted bitter, bitter like rivalry and fear and poison. The word had sunk its claws into their chest and made its home there. There was nothing they could have done to stop it.

Beelzebub knew they had done all they could, it was not their fault that Armageddon was halted in its tracks. Yet the blame was continuously laid upon their shoulders, the label of incompetence clinging to them until it felt branded into their skin.

They couldn't cope with it much longer. Not that they were coping well to begin with. The scars on their arms were evidence of that. The pain biting into their wrist eased the sting of perceived inadequacy, like a punishment.

Well, that was what Hell was for. Punishing those who had done wrong.

The thought of discorporation had crossed their mind several times, more times than it probably should have. To violently condemn themselves by permanently destroying their corporeal form. They itched to tear themself apart and leave an empty husk in their wake.

It's not like they could actually kill themself. They couldn't get their hands on holy water without raising suspicion. Crowley's trial had come and gone already and Michael had already taken it back.

They chewed their lip, leaning back in their throne as they considered their options for discorporation. Putting a bullet in their head would be quick and easy but they didn't particularly feel like dealing with the mess afterwards, even if they could just miracle it away. Bleeding out and other such methods posed a similar problem. A noose wouldn't bring up gore but it'd be over with painlessly. Poison? Poison was a good option. If they chose well, it'd be a relatively tidy way to go that had the element of pain and torment before their body gave up on them.

This was usually where this train of thought ended, with them shaking their head like they were dislodging the idea from their brain and returning to whatever they'd been doing before they fell down the brief spiral. Now, however, they couldn't shake themself free even if they wanted to.

The soft chime of a miracle permeated the air and a small glass bottle appeared in their hand, small enough to easily fit in their palm. Cyanide. Pure liquid cyanide. Clear, potent and lethal.

They tapped their fingers against the glass. They could very easily back down now. Send the poison in their hand back to the ether they'd made it from and never think about it again. They carefully opened the bottle and paused. This was their last chance to stop.

They brought the bottle up to their lips and a bitter taste hit their tongue. They didn't even allow themself to grimace until most of it was gone. Their shaking fingers let the bottle slip free and they distantly heard it shatter on the ground as they sucked in an unsteady breath. They'd actually done it.

They tipped their head upwards to stare at the molding ceiling. Had it been enough?  It took a pitifully small amount of the stuff to kill a human, they must have consumed a deadly amount about fifty times over. The thought made their chest feel tight.

Their hand suddenly clutched at their chest as their breathing began to constrict. Oh. And suddenly this was all so starkly real. Their head spun a little and they slid from their throne onto the ground, the concrete solid and frigid against their palms as they tried to keep themself from dropping completely to the floor. Reality took on a sharper quality for a few moments before things went blurry and hazey and their eyes stung and their head throbbed and they collapsed fully, eyes now tightly shut.

They wheezed and gasped for air, heart racing. They curled up on the ground, agony like a stab through the chest pounding through them in time with their pulse. And every step of the way, they could feel that nagging voice deep in their mind screaming that they deserved this. This torment, this agony, this punishment, they deserved it all tenfold. Their only regret was that it was over far too quickly.

The world felt like it was slipping away and they felt victorious, even with a triumph as empty and bitter as this.

Their fears had teeth and claws, and they had been victim to it.

-

Beelzebub rolled their shoulders back, feeling brand new muscles move and stretch around brand new bone. They already missed the dead but peaceful silence they had existed in between bodies.

They brought their hand up, running their fingers over the unfamiliar ridges and dips of their unknown face. The newness made their chest ache in an uncomfortably satisfied way. They had done this to themself, utterly torn down the person they had been and forced themself into the unpleasantness of change to exact punishment onto themself.

And something in them realised they couldn't go on like this much longer. They'd never struggled with this isolation, with resolving their issues alone (well, resolving was a strong word. It felt more like kicking the problem into a darkened cupboard until there wasn't any more room), but right now they felt...fragile wasn't quite the right word. It made them sound breakable and helpless, which they weren't. They were trying to rebuild their state of mind on shakey ground and something had to change.

They could get in contact with Gabriel. Propose an off-the-record meeting about failed Armageddon and maybe find someone who understood in him. It was a long shot but what else could they do?

-

Beelzebub glanced up at Gabriel's face and immediately looked away. The tears in Gabriel's eyes made them feel sick to their stomach with shame.

Gabriel's arms wrapped around them tightly, suffocating and protective. He didn't say a word, just holding Beelzebub in his constricting grasp. The holy protecting the damned.

"Gabriel?" their voice was barely a whisper.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Gabriel was gentle, not accusing but genuinely asking.

"There was never really a good time I suppose." they gave a rueful laugh, trying to lighten the tension in the air.

Gabriel shook his head, loosening his hold on them. "Don't laugh about this, please. I...fuck, please talk to me. You don't need to do this alone anymore, love."

Demons don't cry. They weren't exactly known for breaking down into sniffling whimpering messes, that sort of vulnerability was not demon-like.

And yet Beelzebub, Lord of the Flies, former Grand Duke of Hell, felt a sob be wrenched unwillingly from their throat. They crumpled in Gabriel's arms, just letting themself break down in the safety of Gabriel's embrace.

Thankfully, the angel didn't say a word. He understood that empty promises of everything being okay wouldn't help. Beelzebub just needed to hold onto him like they'd never let go.

They hiccuped and choked through it, years of grief and agony finally spilling to the surface. It was painful and vindicating and freeing and by the time it was all over, they felt hollowed out and weightless. They rested against Gabriel, breathing raggedly and deeply to calm their racing pulse and shaking body.

Gabriel brushed their hair from their face and planted a gentle kiss on their forehead.

"Better?" was all he asked, in hushed tones to preserve the intimate silence.

Beelzebub sniffed and nodded slightly. They could only imagine how much of a mess they looked right now. Smudged makeup, damp cheeks and red-rimmed eyes, and yet Gabriel's gaze was still full of so much adoration, like they were the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid eyes on.

Gabriel finally released them from the hug to take their hands instead. He rubbed his thumb over their knuckles, searching for the right words for a few minutes.

"It wasn't easy for you to tell me that, was it?"

"No, it wasn't."

Gabriel took their face in his hands, tilting their head up to look eachother in the eyes. His piercing purple gaze looked right into Beelzebub's soul.

"Thank you, my dear. Thank you for trusting me, I-" he choked briefly on his words. "God, I love you."

Beelzebub averted their gaze, unable to get any words past their lips while Gabriel's eyes stared into theirs.

"I love you too."

The silence took over once more, neither of them willing to break it. There was nothing more to say.

Gabriel's hands moved, delicately rolling up one of their sleeves. Beelzebub held their breath. Nestled amongst the rotting flesh and sores, the reminders of their demonic status that littered their entire corporeal form no matter what they did, were the scars. Light faded marks on their wrists and arms that attested to the agony they'd been in. They watched as Gabriel's heart broke a little more at the sight and they felt a stab of guilt.

Gabriel entwined Beelzebub's fingers in his own, pulling their hand closer to plant a kiss on the wounded skin. It was such a tender action that the two barely even breathed, fearful of shattering the precious moment they were sharing.

Gabriel couldn't make everything okay, he couldn't fix all that had happened or make Beelzebub's problems disappear, but he certainly made things feel a whole lot better. They could take comfort in that.

The wretched had found solace in the divine.

[necarion]

I don't think I've told the story about how I was misgendered so hard I sprained a rib. [Status, really funny]

To start off, I'm cis male, but I have a very high speaking voice and an androgynous name (nearly 50:50). I am never misgendered in person, but I am almost invariably misgendered over the phone (miss, ms, or ma'am). Generally, I don't care, because it doesn't really matter to me, except when I have to correct something for documentation purposes.

On this occasion, I am sitting on the couch at my GF's house and get a phone survey call. (I usually like to take these.) Survey Lady (SL) does the basic introduction, runs through the entire survey, and then asks some basic demographic questions. And it's here that she makes the fateful mistake - a single wrong assumption:

SL: aaand you're female *click* Me: Actually, I'm male. SL: Oh, I'm so sorry, let me fix that *tappity tappity* SL (with mild panic): Um, uh, I can't go back, er, sir. Let me get my manager. Me: Of course, take your time.

At this point, I'm starting to giggle a little bit, but am keeping it under control. Because this is causing her anxiety, and it doesn't matter to me. But this minor correction has derailed something important.

SL *to manager*: I need some help, I can't go back and fix this. I entered female, but she's male. Manager: [indistinct] SL *to manager (with mild panic)*: Yeah, she's male, but the system won't let me fix that, and I need you to [indistinct]. Wait, oh my god, he's male. He's male. SL *to me (with great panic)*: I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry, sir. Me: It's okay, no worries here.

My GF starts watching me with concern...what's happening to me over the phone? Because I'm kind of rocking back and forth on the sofa. Because I'm trying very, very hard not to burst into uncontrollable giggles and embarrass the poor survey lady any further. But as the dialog goes on, suppressing the laughter is getting increasingly painful. But I am also, by far, the most entertained I've ever been on a phone survey. I managed to mouth "I'm okay" to my GF, and then reassure the phone survey lady that there was no offense taken. And then the survey was over and I could actually laugh, and relay the full story.

And that was how an innocent misgendering caused me real, physical pain.

"Yeah, she's male and the system won't let me fix that"

[yoshizora]

i think the assumption that Megumu is an abusive, neglectful boss is kind of generally accepted by english speaking fans (from what i've personally seen) but there's some nuance that should be taken into consideration imo.

1. the daitengu are stated to very rarely ever give orders for their own personal self-interest. they work for the sake of tengu society's progress. 2. Aya is notorious for stretching the truth and exaggerating facts, so while she DOES have valid criticisms of tengu society, she never mentions things like actual abuse (and it would definitely be something she'd bring up if it were happening). 3. Megumu... isn't mean? i don't know where people get the impression that she's mean. she personally checks in on Marisa after UM out of concern for her well-being, worries about Tsukasa getting her ass kicked and fights the protags in her place, and almost causes an incident just to do something nice for Chimata in LE! she's also surprisingly gracious toward the protags in UM considering how territorial the tengu are.

i'm not saying that Megumu is a paragon of kindness or a perfect boss because she most definitely is not! she initially used Chimata just to make a profit for the tengu, and Aya/Hatate/Momiji aren't complaining over nothing. also in that same MeguChima LE chapter, we're shown that Aya is at the mercy of their hierarchy and can't do anything that would go against the grain of tengu society. Megumu, for all her gallantry, is still a slimy opportunist too (her whole speech about controlling the media was kinda Deranged!).

but i think it's a reach to say that Megumu goes out of her way to be cruel to her own subordinates, because that would completely contradict her role as a daitengu. at most, i think it's reasonable to assume that Megumu doesn't always listen to the other tengu (hence AyaHataMomi's grievances) and is more of a "for the greater good" type of person, even if it's at the cost of individuals' comforts.

tl;dr yes Megumu is a shithead, but to an extent!

[carpathxanridge]

what’s also so fucked up about going to the dermatologist, and i’m sure it’s not like this for most men, is that my dermatological concerns are assumed immediately to be cosmetic and not medical. like i’ve been to two dermatologists in my life, both have been very flippant about moles/marks that i’ve been worried about, and both have instead offered me treatment for my acne and scarring on my back, including injecting an acne scar with a steroid. and when i told one of them that i didn’t want to take an oral medicine, and that i’m skeptical of a lot of skincare treatments, that i’ve used benzoyl peroxide religiously to no effect, and that i wasn’t sure i wanted to use clindamycin every day because of all the side effects, and that i’m not so sure my acne has bacterial causes/is caused by bad hygiene rather than hormonal and dietary causes... he said “well then what do you expect. what do you want me to do about it.” um, examine my moles, like i said i was here for? the abundance of which i know statistically puts me at higher risk of skin cancer? and it’s like, got it, you think my acne is unsightly, and you don’t know how to react to a female patient who really doesn’t care much about that and instead just wants to make sure that her skin issues don’t indicate more serious underlying health issues.

and so even with my health anxiety, the two doctors i’m most avoidant of are the dermatologist and the gynecologist. and i know that i need to persevere and try to find female doctors in my network who will listen to my concerns. but instead all the gynecologist offices around her are now advertising labiaplasty and all kinds of cosmetic procedures and elective fertility treatments that are more profitable for them than making sure women are hormonally healthy, have access to whatever birth control methods they desire, and figuring out and treating the causes of unexplained pain… and dermatologists care more about selling you an elaborate skincare routine than making sure you’re cancer free, especially if you’re a woman. and as a feminist i know how super super important it is to go to the gynecologist and get screened and all that, but my first experience was so uncomfortable and humiliating that i haven’t been able to bring myself to go back.

i think that especially because the fields of dermatology and gynecology are becoming increasingly image-focused, it is absolutely a feminist issue that there should be greater separation of cosmetic and medical care in these offices, because i know i’m not the only woman who avoids them for this reason (and other doctors, dentistry is another example i can think of where image/having straight white teeth is becoming prioritized, although i think that is less sex-specific in its impacts), and it upsets me that i am avoiding important cancer screening because my experiences in these offices have been so hostile, but i really can’t bring myself to make these appointments. truly, i should not have to be inundated with suggestions to mutilate my genitals in the waiting room of a doctor that i am going to to make sure that my pelvic pain isn’t cause for medical concern. i should not be treated like an unsightly ogre whose skin issues must be due to uncleanliness and personal failing, even though scientific studies now point to acne being genetic and hormonal above all else, when i’ve stated that the reason i’m in the office is because of a completely unrelated skin concern. i should be able to say no to being advertised cosmetic treatments when i’m seeking medical help. the assumption shouldn’t be that, because i’m a woman, i’m more concerned about my appearance than my health.