#i did really good on a final today and decided to treat myself with another blorbo

[mayxthexforce]

Remember when I said I was done adding muses?

Kad Solus is now an available muse

Check my PINNED POST for his character info and verses.

[misscammiedawn]

Plurality on the Disc

CW: Fatphobia, euthanasia

One thing you can always say about Pratchett was that he did not believe in prejudice. The man saw the world through a lens of satire and yet in all things he attempted to see the humanity in all things and tried to bleed that compassion into the world he created, especially with the modernization of the central city, Ankh Morpork.

Pratchett's works as early as the 90s were showing positive trans representation in Cheery Littlebottom, a dwarf who opts to present femme within a culture that treats displays of gender other than the "default", without acknowledging the inherent bias that the "default" gender presentation within Dwarf culture is masculine. It seems Pratchett was able to display "Male or Political" as a fallacy long before toxic gamer culture.

Sensing that the audience may have found this too subtle he went on to write Monstrous Regiment in 2003, a story about a group of women who take up arms, disguise their gender and live as men to fight in a war. As many things on the Disc it was written with fantasy and satire in mind and yet was incredibly detailed in historical accuracy. As trans-folx continuously remind: "We have always been here"

Today's topic, though, is on plurality. Typically in Media, Myself and I essays we focus on depictions of DID with an emphasis on psychopathology. Pathology and mental illness do not really factor into the fantasy world of Discworld. One need only look at the "Sideflashes" depicted in Monstrous Regiment, those being moments where a vampire character has traumatic hallucinations of the Vietnam War of our world, to know that Pratchett is more interested in satirizing the genre mediums he is working within rather than depicting accurate portraits of real mental illness.

That said, in one of his final books, Thud! Pratchett did have a character with two distinct personalities who could withhold information from one another say "It's supposed to be an illness, but all I can say is, we've gotten along well."

Pratchett always leads with compassion and in all of his work he does his research. Though he never wrote much about the supposed illness mentioned in Thud!, he has written plural characters and we're going to focus on one right now.

The books in question are Maskerade (1995) and Carpe Jugulum (2003). These books heavily feature the characters Agnes Nitt and Perdita X Dream.

The first of the two stories is a parody of The Phantom of the Opera with a heavy emphasis on the real life stress and drama behind the scenes of any stage performance. A must read for any theatre kid who wishes to see 'the show must go on' taken to ludicrous extremes.

Agnes is a young witch who has talent as a singer. So much so that she is able to sing in harmony with herself. She decides to move to the big city and join the opera house in hopes of turning her talents to become a star.

Agnes is a prim and proper young witch, raised to think and act a certain way. The problem is, of course, she wants to act in ways unbecoming of who she is perceived as. So growing up when she misbehaved and acted outside of these rigid expectations she would compartmentalize all of her behaviors into Perdita X Dream, "the thin woman trying to get out"

She'd caught herself saying 'poot!' and 'dang!' when she wanted to swear, and using pink writing paper. She'd got a reputation for being calm and capable in a crisis. Next thing she knew she'd be making shortbread and apple pies as good as her mother's, and then there'd be no hope for her. So she'd introduced Perdita. She'd heard somewhere that inside every fat woman was a thin woman trying to get out[3] so she'd named her Perdita. She was a good repository for all those thoughts that Agnes couldn't think on account of her wonderful personality. Perdita would use black writing paper if she could get away with it, and would be beautifully pale instead of embarrassingly flushed. Perdita wanted to be an interestingly lost soul in plumcoloured lipstick. Just occasionally, though, Agnes thought Perdita was as dumb as she was.

It is not uncommon for those with dissociative disorders to have these idealized personas that take on lives of their own. Though the Fae beauty known as Dawn is a name and identity that I have forged through decades of actualizing, my humble roots will always be the performance of what we thought a strong and capable woman would look and sound like. The fact we borrowed the blueprints is neither here nor there.

In moving to the city of Ankh, Agnes decides that she is free of those who have told her what to do and able to live as she has always desired. She adopts the name Perdita as her own and signs up to sing.

After moving in to the opera house she becomes entangled in the plot of Phantom of the Opera. The central story of the book is a retelling of PotO but with the Disc's patented absurdity added on and Agnes being used as a perspective character. At a point Christine, the only woman capable of exclaiming a whisper, switches rooms with Agnes because she is keeps hearing voices while she's trying to sleep. That night the voice from behind the mirror calls out into the darkness, thinking it is speaking to Christine, and speaks to Agnes instead.

There is makes it very clear as to why Agnes cannot be the central figure of the book.

Agnes pulled the bedclothes up higher. 'In the middle of the night?!' 'Night is nothing to me. I belong to the night. And I can help you.' It was a pleasant voice. It seemed to be coming from the mirror. 'Help me to do what?!' 'Don't you want to be the best singer in the opera?' 'Oh, Perdita is a lot better than me!!' There was silence for a moment, and then the voice said: 'But while I cannot teach her to look and move like you, I can teach you to sing like her.' Agnes stared into the darkness, shock and humiliation rising from her like steam.

Fatphobia is real and is on The Disc, I am sad to say.

But it is after this incident that Agnes begins to recognize the prejudice that has been levied at her the entire book and the prim and proper Agnes politely thinks calm and pleasant thoughts when she is insulted, it is Perdita who thinks rude words.

This gets worse as the plot goes on and the managers cast Christine as the lead and have Agnes sing the lead from the chorus.

The humiliation and compartmentalized resentment continues on and...

What she was about to do was wrong. Very wrong. And all her life she'd done things that were right. Go on, said Perdita. In fact, she probably wouldn't even do it. But there was no harm in just asking where there was a herbal shop, so she asked. And there was no harm in going in, so she went in. And it certainly wasn't against any kind of law to buy the ingredients she bought. After all, she might get a headache later on, or be unable to sleep. And it would mean nothing at all to take them back to her room and tuck them under the mattress. That's right, said Perdita.

Passive Influence is a term used for when a part/alter pushes for action while another part is fronting in the system.

In this example Perdita is steering Agnes to perform actions that are not congruent with her nature and her beliefs. Agnes is not capable of plotting revenge against someone and enacting a scheme and so even while performing the actions she is rationalizing to herself that she is not actually doing anything untoward because it is not in her nature to do such a thing.

The traits exist but they do not belong to Agnes and at this point she has not yet realized that the Perdita identity that she has formed is capable of asserting her own will.

The formation of a dissociative disorder typically occurs when a child is in a situation of constant trauma and need to adapt contradicting realities in order to function. Most common of which is the contradiction of needing protection, nurture and safety from the caregivers who provide terror and pain. To function within that framework a young mind will compartmentalize experiences in order to maintain a reality where both these truths are compatible.

Agnes, in part due to the prejudice she faces for her weight, has to have a wonderful personality. Her acceptance within society requires her to act the part and be a kind and sweet girl with a wonderful personality. Always be the best version of herself in spite of her looks because without that wonderful personality she will only be regarded as a large woman and will be discarded.

So she puts away all the thoughts that run contrary to that narrative. Anything that doesn't fit in the Nice Girl persona.

Aren't you just tired of putting up with it, though? Don't you want to go apeshit?

If you were someone like Agnes Nitt, wouldn't you long to be someone as dark and mysterious as Perdita X Dream?

As the book goes on Perdita continues thinking things from behind Agnes' eyes and the narrative begins describing their differing perspectives. The schism growing wider and wider throughout the story.

At the start of the book, when Perdita began becoming more prominent, the prose would say "Perdita thought a rude word" then, as in the passive influence section, "Perdita said" is included in the text. Later still Agnes and Perdita converse within the prose.

The candle burned with a greenish-blue edge to the flame. Somewhere, said Perdita, there was the secret room. If there wasn't a huge and glittering secret cavern, what on earth was life for? There had to be a secret room. A room, full of. . . giant candles, and enormous stalagmites. . . But it certainly isn't here, said Agnes.

The further on the story goes the more comfortable both character and author are in sharing the back and forth between Nitt and Dream.

If Maskerade was the introduction to the concept then Carpe Jugulum (2003) is where Agnes Nitt and Perdita X Dream's shared mind and body become central figures in the story and are allowed to explore themselves a little more. In the previous story Perdita is treated as where Agnes puts all of her unseemly actions and desires.

In Carpe Jugulum it is treated very emphatically as a dissociative disorder where two parts of the same mind share control over the same body.

She simply sang in harmony with herself. Unless she concentrated it was happening more and more these days. Perdita had rather a reedy voice, but she insisted on joining in. Those who are inclined to casual cruelty say that inside a fat girl is a thin girl and a lot of chocolate. Agnes’s thin girl was Perdita. She wasn’t sure how she’d acquired the invisible passenger. Her mother had told her that when she was small she’d been in the habit of blaming accidents and mysteries, such as the disappearance of a bowl of cream or the breaking of a prized jug, on “the other little girl.”

The tone is set early on with Pratchett working to codify that which already existed by including Agnes putting the pieces together as an adult based on what others had told her she did as a child, something all too common with those with dissociative disorders.

The pair are living in harmony for the most part, Perdita enjoys getting to sing with Agnes and is fiercely defensive of her host. She does not enjoy it when people are mean to Agnes. It is why she focused much of Maskerade on scowling at Christine. Though Perdita herself seems to enjoy bullying Agnes, as she does delight in cruelly calling her a lump.

The story this time is about a group of Modern Sexy Vampires moving in to the witches' town and deciding to take over. Much of the book's satire is a comparison of the Anne Rice and World of Darkness ethos on vampire lore and comparing it to the more gothic and classic depictions such as Nosferatu and Bram Stoker's Dracula.

As well as the complete and utter violation that is "treating people like things".

The story also introduces Mightily Oats (who Perdita will squee about having a cool ponytail), a parody of the catholic vampire slayer trope. He, himself, has a "rifted personality" like Agnes and Perdita due to his adherence to the contradicting commandments and beliefs held within the religious texts of his faith, Om.

Unfortunately, Perdita's alliance with Agnes is harmed when the vampires move in and Perdita finds herself largely attracted to them. Perdita is the very essence of a scene kid, after all, she'd listen to Evanescence if they existed on The Disc. Throughout the early phase of the vampire plot Perdita finds herself internally shaking Agnes and screaming petulantly at her that she is fumbling the ball so hard when faced with them.

Ask him his name! Perdita yelled. No, that’d be forward of me, Agnes thought. Perdita screamed, You were built forward, you stupid lump—

I am certain many reading this will empathize. I certainly do.

But all too quickly the plot of the vampires is revealed and they begin using their vampire hypnosis to control the town. All while Perdita is screaming rebellion and demanding they be given garlic enemas.

Perdita is unimpacted by the mind control. What's worse is that the vampires can read minds and can tell there's something odd about Agnes but not quite what.

Ur…” She stopped it turning into a giggle. “Not really. Not very well…” Didn’t you listen to what they were saying? They’re vampires! “Shut up,” she said aloud. “I beg your pardon?” said Vlad, looking puzzled. “And they’re…well, they’re not a very good orchestra…” Didn’t you pay any attention to what they were saying at all, you useless lump? “They’re a very bad orchestra,” said Vlad. “Well, the King only bought the instruments last month and basically they’re trying to learn together—” Chop his head off! Give him a garlic enema! “Are you all right? You really know there are no vampires here, don’t you…” He’s controlling you! Perdita screamed. They’re… affecting people! “I’m a bit… faint from all the excitement,” Agnes mumbled. “I think I’ll go home.” Some instinct at bone-marrow level made her add, “I’ll ask Nanny to go with me.” Vlad gave her an odd look, as if she wasn’t reacting in quite the right way. Then he smiled. Agnes noticed that he had very white teeth. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you, Miss Nitt,” he said. “There’s something so… inner about you.” That’s me! That’s me! He can’t work me out! Now let’s both get out of here! yelled Perdita.

Up until now Perdita has been a very internal experience for plurality, itself a rarity within fiction. Perdita never fronts in the entirety of Maskerade. She is a sharp and judgmental voice in the back of Agnes' head and shaped much like her repressed desires.

After escaping the clutches of vampire mind control and escaping from the dangerous circumstance Perdita yanks control of the body and outs herself to fellow witch Nanny Ogg, leading to the first time either Nitt or Dream have had to describe their situation to someone outside the body.

“It’s all right,” said Agnes. “It’s me again, Agnes Nitt, but…She’s here but… I’m sort of holding on. Yes! Yes! All right! All right, just shut up, will y— Look, it’s my body, you’re just a figment of my imagina—Okay! Okay! Perhaps it’s not quite so clear c—Let me just talk to Nanny, will you?” “Which one are you now?” said Nanny Ogg. “I’m still Agnes, of course.” She rolled her eyes up. “All right! I’m Agnes currently being advised by Perdita, who is also me. In a way. And I’m not too fat, thank you so very much!” “How many of you are there in there?” said Nanny. “What do you mean, ‘room for ten’?” shouted Agnes. “Shut up! Listen, Perdita says there were vampires at the party. The Magpyr family, she says. She can’t understand how we acted. They were putting a kind of…’fluence over everyone. Including me, which is why she was able to break thr—Yes, all right, I’m telling it, thank you!” “Why not her, then?” said Nanny. “Because she’s got a mind of her own! […] Nanny rubbed her chin, torn between the vampiric revelation and prurient curiosity about Perdita. “How does Perdita work, then?” she said. Agnes sighed. “Look, you know the part of you that wants to do all the things you don’t dare do, and thinks the thoughts you don’t dare think?” Nanny’s face stayed blank. Agnes floundered. “Like…maybe…rip off all your clothes and run naked in the rain?” she hazarded. “Oh yes. Right,” said Nanny. “Well…I suppose Perdita is that part of me.” “Really? I’ve always been that part of me,” said Nanny. “The important thing is to remember where you left your clothes.”

This is the compassion in Pratchett's writing I'd mentioned. In this story Perdita is revealed to be part of Agnes and though Nanny Ogg is confused and a little ignorant of the whole affair, going as far as to yell "is she treating you alright in there?" into Perdita's ear, she is caring and understanding. In Maskerade Nanny was the one person in Lancre who accepted Agnes changing her name to Perdita, reasoning that "people ought to call themselves what they want."

In approaching the abnormal circumstance with compassion in the fiction it helps those reading get a broader and better understanding of how to be kind and treat those impacted in real life.

Also, as a side note, Agnes yelling at Nanny while "currently advised by Perdita" may not be an overt piece of representation but there is a concept called Blending within plurality. It's not mentioned in textbooks I've read but is often discussed in support communities. At times when two parts are co-conscious in front their traits will become a little blended.

In a way parts of a dissociative system are simply a way of storing traits necessary to function but dividing them to prevent emotional harm and damage or to maintain a form of continuity of self. To give an example we were ejected by our caregivers and internalized it as our own fault for being undesirable so part of us cannot fathom doing anything which would make us disposable and unlikable but our circumstances required becoming cold and focused for survival and so the sweet kind and lovable empathy driven part and the cold and angry survival part are kept in separate boxes. Likewise we have trauma related to eroticism but there is still an attraction to such material within us and so in order to function I handle that aspect of our life and shelter the others from being impacted. At first due to heavy dissociation and denial and these days due to practice in therapy allowing us to let parts "opt out" and retreat inwards when they do not want to be involved in what is happening with the body.

In a way blended parts are closer to what a person would be like if they were singlet, though blurring does not often involve the entire system if there are more than 2 parts.

And though I say 'closer', I do not mean entirely as typically when blended people are in an activated state. In the above case where Perdita and Nanny had triggered Agnes' frustrations about her weight being bullied, she was unable to control the emotion of her reaction.

We refer to such days when we are blended and incapable of controlling our emotional reactions as "thin skinned days". They were more common prior to diagnosis.

As the story continues the pair need to see-saw their consciousness to avoid vampire mind control and we are treated to moments of Agnes being the "invisible passenger" in the situation, going as far to show her ability to focus attention on reading is not as sharp as Agnes'. Something I can assure you is quite true within parts of a dissociative system. Goodness knows Cammie would never have the patience to do the reading and typing necessary for these essays.

The story continues on and though there are moments of casual misunderstanding which are a par for the course in such tales, such as Nanny telling Perdita to "give Agnes her body back, you know it's hers really--" before knocking her out to ensure Agnes has control. They throw out lines like:

“Yes, that’s Agnes,” she said, standing back. “Her face goes sharper when it’s the other one. See? I told you she’d be the one that came back. She’s got more practice.”

And let me say, when someone knows you and loves you enough to recognize a part by the way they wear their face alone, it's something. I am simply incapable of reading a moment like that and not breaking into a smile and thinking of the many times our long distance love has tried to explain how she can just tell without a word when we have switched.

But as always. Pratchett leads with compassion. Where Nanny Ogg says that she thinks people should be called what they want to be called in Maskerade, regarding Agnes' wish to be called Perdita (not Perditax), it is Granny Weatherwax the beating heart and soul of the Discworld who says it best

Ah...one mind, split in half. There were more Agneses in the world than Agnes dreamed of, Granny told herself. All the girl had done was to give the thing a name, and once you give the thing a name you give it life...

Once you give a thing a name, you give it life.

That is compassion. To not fully understand something and how it forms and how it presents, but to respect it all the same. To know it has a form and should be treated as real because by virtue of being named it is real.

That is what so much of Pratchett's work is focused on. The humanity of seeing others as they wish to be and respecting them. It's such a low bar to clear in our world and yet sometimes it really does need to be emphasized.

Typically when Granny says something it's from the perspective of age and wisdom. It may not always be without bias but it is with a weight of knowledge and respect.

The final book in the series contents with Sir Pratchett's knowledge of his own death. He knew for years. He even did a documentary on medical aid in dying. He poured it all into depicting a tale that includes Granny's death.

The works of Terry Pratchett have long been a companion in our life. We've been reading them our entire life. To this day we have refused to read beyond Granny's death scene in Shepherd's Crown. We broke down crying when we saw the "I ATE'NT DEAD" call back. We couldn't pick up the book again after that.

It's too difficult to think that one of the voices that taught us morality is gone from this world. Our tag for Discworld is GNU Terry Pratchett. As long as the name is spoken he is never really gone.

As long as Shepherds Crown still has pages yet unread, the book series isn't really over.

-

For more of my essays on positive DID representation in media, please check out my Media, Myself and I tag.

[lemons4u]

Hello, Pri! How are you? If you're ok w/ it, may I have the anemo boys with a s/o who enjoys seating on their lap? (Sfw)

notes ! OKAY THIS LITERALLY TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO ANSWER, so i’m really sorry 😭 and also i’m doing great thank you! also not proofread (my grammar is a little bad anyways so)

warnings ! fluff, heizou’s part is suggestive

v e n t i

he loves it when you sit on his lap! it gives him a nice a sense of comfort… to have you so close to him.

he also thinks it adorable lmao.

IMAGINE.

sitting in his lap while you both are out at the statue of seven at windrise— he’s putting windwheel asters in your hair as you read to him or something.

or maybe he’ll hum a tune for you!

it’s depends what he’s feelings like :3

“your hair is looking beautiful today, hehe..” venti cooed, tucking yet another flower in your hair.

“hmmh..” he pressed a delicate kiss to your temple. “no thank you?” he asked with a grin.

“no.” you reply, continuing to read your book.

“hmph. are you really going to treat your darling boyfriend like this?” he pouted before smiling again.

“yeah.”

“your so mean to me.”

x i a o

xiao gets a bit (very) flustered, the poor guy isn’t used to all of these acts of affection :<

the first time you asked he was like.

“you… wanna sit on my lap?” he’s adorable, oh my god.

IMAGINE.

sitting out on like a hill or smth, idk, watching the stars— on xiao’s lap.

it’s a really cute a wholesome thing that both of you (i’m assuming) like to do.

it’s usually really quiet, unless xiao decides to tell you about his day.

“i spoke a little with the traveller today.” he murmured, fiddling with your hair.

“aw.. you did?” you tilted your head.

xiao didn’t really speak to anyone aside from you, so it made you happy when your boyfriend finally decides to speak with someone.

“about what though?”

“about you.. the traveller wanted to ask you some questions— but i told them i could answer them instead.” he said dully.

“i could’ve answered them myself..” you mutter.

“i know that… but i felt like talking about you at that moment.”

you laugh a little. “oh really? you wanted to speak about me?”

“yes… i mean you are my s/o right? i can speak about you… unless you don’t want me to?”

“no! it’s fine if you wanna talk about me…”

“are you… sure?”

“yes i’m sure!”

k a z u h a

he’s like venti, he loves when you sit on his lap :3

maybe he’d be a little surprised at first, but he doesn’t object.

IMAGINE.

the two of you sitting out on the crux, watching the sunset reflect on the ocean. (idk)

you could be reading a poem he wrote to you— or you could just genuinely be talking to each other.

either way it’s adorable.

“kazuuu.. this poem is adorable.” you coo, smiling fondly at the piece he dedicated to you.

“is it? i really don’t think it’s all that good.. compared to my other poems.”

“nono! it is! i absolutely love this one..” you say in defense.

“oh…? i thought it was a bit… um.. corny?” kazuha said with a laugh.

“well it’s not… i think it’s quite lovely.” you cross your arms.

“whatever you say, love…” he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“whatever you say..”

h e i z o u

he finds a way to tease you for it… like this man literally will not stop teasing you when you ask him to sit on his lap.

when you first ask him he’s like this though…

“oh? you wanna sit on my lap?” he grinned at you.

“how could i ever deny such a request?” he cooed.

“but… may i ask why you wanna sit on my lap?”

he’s got a very dirty mind so like… um, just be aware.

IMAGINE.

sitting on his lap while he works on his cases or smth, idk.

i actually hc he rushes through his work, so like he always makes mistakes.

but then you, his beautiful s/o, can help him fix them!

(he 100% makes mistakes on purpose)

“mmhhm..” heizou arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body.

he craved to feel your body against his.

“you… made a mistake over here..” your murmur, circling it so he could fix it later.

“oh? did i? my, my… i’ve been making so many mistakes recently.” he smiled innocently.

“maybe you should doublecheck my papers, just in case.”

that… was just excuse to have on his lap for even longer. ( he probably wants it and likes more than you do )

“i’m already double checking them.”

“hmm… triple check?”

“heizou.”

“hehe..”

w a n d e r / s c a r a m o u c h e

“no.”

was the only thing you heard when you first asked scara.

you would just have to beg then.

IMAGINE.

whining and complaining to scara about literally just sitting on his lap—

it was a small thing, really, but were you just going to let it go? nope.

“pleaseee scara! all the other couples do it!” you pout, furrowing your eyebrows at him.

“yeah… and i’m not like those other couples.” he responded coldly.

“arghh.. you suck.” you whine, flopping down on the bed.

“hmph..” he crossed his arms.

“you are making such a big deal. it’s really nothing major.”

“to me it is.” you frown.

there’s a moment of silence before a idea pops up in your head, it was probably a bad one… but whatever!

“i bet any other guy would let me..” you sigh, almost dreamily.

“what?”

“mhm.. like childe…”

you were answered by silence once again.. scaramouche was just staring out, arms crossed with a unreadable expression.

“fine then.”

before you knew scaramouche rushed to the bed beside you— tackling you into his lap.

“your gonna stay here now.”

“but..”

“nuh uh.”

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Give Me What I Want ~Bratty!Bottom!Larissa Weems xFem Wife!Teacher!Reader

Summary— You won’t give into a bratty Larissa. No matter how much she persists…

Anon Request— Wanted to ask for two separate requests. One Morticia and one Larissa (two separate posts), but they’re both bottoms. Like really bratty bottoms. Thank you for taking the time to read this. You don’t have to do both you could just do one or the other or none. Sorry if that doesn’t make sense. But thank you I love your stuff!! Anon Response— Thank you for the request, anon!! Here’s the first one, a bratty Larissa. Hope you Enjoy! ♥️

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!, heavily implied smut, used sex toy, implied masturbation, nudity, comforting, light physical touch, teasing, flustering, bratting, begging, implied begging kink, etc.

Enjoy (;

Larissa let out yet another loud and dramatic groan. She was sitting at her desk, working away, and you were sitting by the fire, reading.

Every few minutes, the woman would groan needily. And every time the groan got louder and more like a moan. A minute passed before she groaned again.

“Larissa May…” you hummed warily, not looking up from your book.

You only used her full name in professional settings or when she was bratting and you needed her attention.

Larissa straightened up a bit at the sound of her given name.

“Yes Darling…?” Her sultry tone replied with a deceptive innocent cover over it.

“Do you need something…?” You hummed.

You knew she did. She needed sex. Or to masturbate. But she wasn’t allowed to. She had been teasing you and bratting all of yesterday and into today. She would not be rewarded for that kind of behavior, not on your watch.

Larissa groaned again in response, slouching and leaning back in her seat.

“Use your words…” you hummed across the room.

Larissa grumbled something that you couldn’t quite make out. You finally put the book down and came over to her desk, standing on the opposite side and placing your hands down on the desk.

Larissa looked at you from her slouched position.

“Touch me, Darling…?” She whined.

You shook your head.

“Nuh uh, you haven’t earned that.”

Larissa replied in a groan, then standing up.

“Maybe I’ll just do it myself…!” She huffed, making a dramatic attempt to run off to her attached private quarters in her office. You swiftly moved in front of the door, blocking her from access to her bedroom.

“Nope.” You crossed your arms in an attempt to show your unwavering mind.

“You are mean…, so mean… you know that right?” Larissa huffed, going back to her desk to sit back down with another groan.

“Then you should have been good.” You quipped with a shrug of your shoulders.

Larissa’s response was to stick her tongue out in you in a playful manner.

You had never seen this woman so bratty before…

“That,” you pointed at her scowling expression and out stuck tongue, “is not helping your case. Behave.”

You then turned around and went to sit back down on your chair by the fire. You picked up your book and continued to read.

Time went by, and you went from reading back to grading , and while Larissa had stopped groaning so dramatically, she was now whimpering and every time you looked your way, she gave you the biggest puppy dog eyes.

And she also got distracted more and more from her work. You caught her giggling as she looks at her phone screen from time to time. You knew she was probably texting with Marilyn, comparing to her about how unfairly you were treating her.

But you just continued to ignore her tactics. A couple hours, you and Larissa decided to call it a night, both retreating into your shared private quarters for the night. Larissa looked at you hopefully as the two of you got into bed. But you simply gave her a kiss good night, wished her sweet dreams, and then turned to the other side facing away from her.

The next morning, Larissa was just as fired up and determined to get her fix from you. Her hands along your figure were wandering all morning, teasing you endlessly. She joined you in the shower too, beginning to kiss your exposed collar bone, but you swiftly turned around and put Larissa back in her place.

You both arrived at the staff room early that morning, Larissa reorganizing the room from the last days and you making the morning coffee for all your colleagues. That’s when Marilyn walked in, holding her morning cup of tea.

“Morning, you two…” she hummed suggestively, taking a sip of her tea afterwards.

“Morning…” Larissa grumbled.

“Morning!” You chirped.

Marilyn eyed the two of you.

“I see that Larissa hasn’t gotten what she wants?”

You chuckled and hummed with a nod, to which Larissa scoffed.

“She is being ridiculous.” Larissa huffed, obviously that being a no to Marilyn’s question.

Marilyn laughed dryly a little, smiling in amusement at the interaction between the two of you.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I am sorry, Larissa…” Marilyn spoke to Larissa, then turning to you and whispering, “Don’t give in”

She gave you a not so well hidden thumbs up with the hand closer to you, but Larissa immediately caught Marilyn’s whispering and hand motion.

“Hey!! Mar, I thought you were on my side??” Larissa whined.

“Jesus, it is bad.” Marilyn chuckled, taking another sip from her mug, glancing at Larissa and then towards you in sympathy.

“You both are mean…!” Larissa scoffed, leaving the staff room in a huff.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, as you watched Larissa storm off. Marilyn gave you a sympathetic smile and walked out, most likely back to her greenhouse to prepare for her first class.

The day went by, and you didn’t hear much of anything from Larissa. This made you suspicious. So during lunch, you made your way to your shared private quarters to find the woman.

But you didn’t find her in the bedroom, instead you found an obviously used vibrating dildo placed right at the center end of your bed, still coated in lube and what you knew what your wife’s juices. You then heard the shower start, and you immediately went to the bathroom, only to find a nude Larissa in the shower.

You gasped lightly, giving you away, and making the talk blonde turn around and give you the most mischievous grin.

“Hello Darling… How was your day…?” She cooed mischievously.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“You know that you are digging yourself a deeper hole, right?”

Larissa bit her lips and shrugged.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” she suggestively cooed, “My day was amazing, thank you for asking.”

You took a deep breath, and left without another word. You went back into the bedroom, grabbing the used sex toy, and returning to the bathroom.

“Clean this.” You said while placing the toy on the bathroom counter.

Then you actually left, needing to get the woman out of your mind. She had successfully started to get under your skin, and you needed to take a breather. You went back to your classroom for the rest of your classes and grading.

It was late evening, you had finished your grading for the day and you were tired. So you finally made your way back to Larissa. You entered her office without knocking. As soon as you entered, Larissa stopped all that she was doing.

“Thank goodness you’re here, Darling” the blonde exclaimed, standing up and coming over to meet you in the middle of the room.

She went to embrace you, and you allowed it. At least for a a couple seconds, before backing up out of the embrace.

“I… I made it worse…” Larissa confessed, looking down at the ground and biting her lip.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, bringing your hands to the woman’s shoulders. Larissa hummed in delight at the touch you were giving her.

“Should have listened to me…” you teasingly cooed.

Larissa went red.

“Shut up…” she muttered.

You grabbed her chin, swiveling her gaze to your eye level.

“What do you want, hmmm…?”

“You. Need you…” She whispered.

You smirked, dropping all touch from Larissa, making her whine.

“Then beg.”

Larissa’s mouth nearly dropped and her eye widened.

“I—No.” she scoffed.

“Oh well, then I can’t help you…” you said with a shrug, starting to walk to the door to your bedroom.

But Larissa grabbed your wrist, turning you back to her after a couple of steps.

“Wait…!”

You tuned around, looking at the woman with a smirk.

“Yes…?” You purred.

Larissa took a heavy breath, then she marched to the bedroom, pulling you by your wrist. You allowed it mainly because you thought she was about to break. She closed the door behind you, then she asked you to sit on the edge of the bed.

Larissa now stood in front of you, shuffling your feet.

“Please…” she whispered.

“What…?” You teasingly cooed, “I can’t hear you, ‘Rissa…”

“Please Darling… please fuck me…” she breathed out, her eyes screen shut and her fists clenched.

“Mhmmmm…” you hummed, not quite satisfied, “Kneel. And say it with your eyes open.”

Larissa’s breath hitched and she gritted her teeth. She wanted it so bad… bad enough to beg…?

Apparently so, as Larissa dropped to her knees after a minute, and looked up at you with open eyes.

“Please fuck me, Y/N, I need you… Only you can satiate my needs… please Darling… I’m desperate…!”

You smirked and cupped the woman’s chin. Larissa hummed, closing her eyes and happily leaning into the little touch you gave.

“You look so good when you beg, ‘Ris…” you cooed.

You retracted all touch once more.

“But you haven’t apologized for what you’ve done these last few days…”

Larissa’s eyes widened again and she gulped. Her eyes glinted in that mischievous nature once more.

“I—I’m not sorry for that.” Larissa suddenly quipped.

You sighed, getting off the bed.

“Then I can’t help you…” you sighed lightly, leaving Larissa kneeling in front of the bed with an open mouth.

~~~

Larissa Weems Masterlist

[jangofettjamz]

The Birthday Boy

Jenna Ortega x Autistic!Male!Reader

Summary: You finally get to celebrate your birthday for the first time, and with the one you love.

Words: 1552

Y/N POV

Today is my birthday. I've never really celebrated it; family never really bothered. Now that I'm older it just seemed more insignificant. No one to celebrate it with, and let's be honest and no one wants to celebrate it on their own.

Jenna was out working, I never told her when my birthday was because I didn't want to interrupt her filming schedule, she's already got enough on her plate she doesn't need to worry about getting me gifts for my birthday she has a career to grow.

I've turned 20 today; Jenna turning 21soon. 20 years feel a bit surreal not gonna lie, crazy to think it's been that long since I was born. I try not dwell on that to much, it'll just send me spiralling.

I do wish I had a good birthday though, the feeling of being celebrating. I know this may sound narcissistic, but I always wanted to be celebrated, have a day just about me. I wanted to feel like everyone could come together and show support for me even if it was just for one day, I never had that kind of love growing up so I'd like to know what that's like, though I doubt it'll happen.

My father never paid any attention to me growing up, saying I was too much of a hassle to put up with. You know you have a bad parent when they have to "put up" with you  instead of loving you unconditionally, but hey beggars can't be choosers, right?

Me thinking about how life could've been was making me depressed so I decided to go out for breakfast, I got dressed and got the keys to my car and went out get food.

On the way there I get an incoming call from Jenna, thought she would've been busy this morning so this was a pleasant surprise. I answered but kept my eyes on the road.

"Hello darling, how'd you sleep" she asked, she knows I don't sleep well when she's gone.

"Um... I slept okay, probably could've got more sleep though. I'm just going to that Italian place we went to a month ago for some breakfast. How's shooting going" I asked, she's currently filming for her new movie 'death of a unincorn' with Paul Rudd.

"Filming's going great, Paul's really cool and I can't wait for you to meet him, he's knows you're a marvel fan too." She giggles mischievously, that little minx.

"Jenna why'd you say that." I whine feeling embarrassed.

"Aw babe, don't be shy he thinks you're really cool." She says reassuringly.

"Yeah sure he does" I say sarcastically, making her laugh. "Do you know when you'll be home?" I miss her dearly, I need to see her soon.

She let's out a sigh, I brace myself for bad news. "Sorry, sweet boy. I won't be back for another week." I let out sad sigh and a whine, I missed her alot.

"Hey, hey, don't be upset baby boy, I'll be home before you know it and we'll have so much fun together. The week will go by quick I promise." She cooed, she always knew what to say to put me at ease.

"Alright sweetie I have to go, drive safe for me and I'll see you very soon." She blew a kiss through the phone "I love you, sweetheart"

"I love you too, Jenna." We end the call and I continue my journey.

I arrive at the restaurant, this is gonna drain my social battery for today so I hope I don't have to to anyone that much, I just wanna get my food, eat then leave.

I ate my food peacefully, the staff were wonderful, definitely going there again for breakfast. I leave the restaurant and do some birthday shopping for myself, figured I may aswell treat myself to something nice for my "big day"; I sound miserable.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts when I feel my phone vibrate, a few text messages from some of my friends and cast mates from scream 5 and 6. I read them and I was shocked, how did they know...

Jasmin

Hey Y/N/N, hope you're having a lovely birthday. Can't wait you see you soon.

Devyn

Howdy stranger, happy birthday my love, you're 20! Hope you're doing well and I'll see you soon... very soon. 😈

Mikey

Looks like someone has a birthday today... AND YOU DIDNT TELL ME! HOW DARE YOU! Besides that betrayal I miss you so much Y/N, happy birthday my sweet.

Mason

Hey man, looks who's 20 years old! Happy birthday bud, hope you have a good one.👍

Melissa

Hey hey, it's the birthday boy! Happy birthday honey, you deserve the best birthday in the world. All the best from me and my husband.

Jack Quaid

Hey buddy, happy 20th birthday! I miss you alot pal, Karl and Antony send their birthday wishes too. Hope to see you soon, buddy.

I was shocked; flabbergasted even. How did they know, they couldn't have possibly...unless. I looked the last message, it was from Jenna, the mastermind behind this.

❤️Jenna❤

Hi baby boy, guess who found out when your birthday is! You never told me when it was but I asked around and viola! Happy birthday sweet boy, I promise we'll see each other very very soon. I love you so much, sweetheart.❤

That little minx... this is why I love her so much, I can't begin to express how much I love her and this just solidifies that. I sent her a message back saying I love her and continue to the mall.

But as I walk to the shopping mall I see three woman who look very familiar, they're wearing party hats too. No... no way... it can't be...

Jenna POV

The look on Y/N's face is priceless, he looked shocked, excited, and emotional at the same time. I think me, Jasmin and Devyn did good on surprising him.

"JENNA?!" He says with glassy eyes.

"C'mere sweetheart" I say and open my arms, he runs towards me and I wrap him in a tight hug.

"I missed you so much" he said while crying, he's such a cutie oh my god.

"Aww sweetie, I missed you too, so much honey. I've been tracking you on Life360 and we intercepted you here. Happy birthday my love, I know you don't like big crowds so I brought Devyn and Jasmin with me" they spoke up.

"Happy birthday, Y/N/N. It's so good to see you, I've missed you alot." Devyn says making him smile widely.

"It's been too long since we've seen you Y/N, how have you been?" Jasmin asks. He lifts his head from my neck and speaks.

"Better now that you guys are here, I haven't really been feeling the best since I've been on my own, I'm so glad you're here Jenna." I hold him and rub his back in comfort.

I want him to really enjoy his birthday today, I already have stuff waiting for him at home. I think he's gonna love it. "Let's go do some shopping and then we'll go home, I have a surprise for you." His eyes lit up and I kiss his cheeks.

- 2 hours later

Y/N drove behind me as we made our way back home. Jasmin and Devyn went home soon after we shopping. We park up to the driveway and he joins me at the front door.

"Close your eyes, birthday boy" I ask and he looks at me with caution.

"What are you planning now, Ortega?" He asks me; suspicion in his voice.

"Just close them silly" he obliged and I take his hand to guide him to his surprise. We reach the living room. "Okay, open your eyes sweetheart."

He opened them and is met with countless presents ranging from: action figures and Lego sets from their favourite franchise, new clothes, PC parts and much much more. I wanted to spoil him and make up for the 20 years of birthdays he missed out on. He looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"Jenna... is this all mine?" He asked, still not believing that he finally had a proper birthday.

"All yours, sweetness" I hug him as tight as I can, he cries into my shoulder out of, what I can only assume, happiness. "Don't cry honey, it's okay. That's all for you because I love you so so much, you deserve this my love, you deserve the world." I cooed softly.

"Thank you so much" he said through his cries.

"You're so welcome, my beautiful birthday boy." I say then kiss his forehead, cheeks and lips.

"Wait here, baby boy" I head into the kitchen and grab his cake. I light the candles and head back into the living room.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Y/N, happy birthday to you." I sing and he blows out his candles.

I cheer and set the cake on the table. He smiled so brightly, he finally got to have a real birthday to celebrate.

Happy birthday Y/N.

A/N

Not my birthday, but I thought it'd make a good story. I hope you enjoyed.

[mattsobvimyfav]

roommates (Matthew Sturniolo)

pt 10

It was finally friday and this week of classes was rough, thank god I only had one class today and it was with Chris, and as soon as I walked in and saw him lounging in his chair, I froze.

He hadn’t shaved in at least a week, and the scruffy beard growing in made him look really good. Too good. His easygoing grin when he saw me didn’t help.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, leaning back in his chair as I slid into the seat beside him.

“Hey,” I replied, giving him a once-over that I hoped wasn’t too obvious. “When did you decide to stop shaving? Not that I’m complaining.”

He smirked. “You like it?”

I shrugged, biting back a smile. “It’s a good look on you. You should keep it.”

“Oh yeah?” he teased, leaning closer. “Noted.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop myself from grinning. The whole class, I found myself distracted—watching the way Chris absently ran his hand through his messy hair, how he leaned over his notebook, scribbling notes with an intensity I didn’t expect from him. Every now and then, he’d glance my way, and I’d look away quickly, pretending I wasn’t staring.

By the time class ended, I felt a little giddy, like I’d been on the edge of something all morning.

When I got back to the dorm, I found Matt lying on his bed, his head resting on his arm as he stared at the ceiling. His laptop and notebook were sprawled across his bed, and he looked wicked stressed.

“Rough day?” I asked, kicking off my shoes and dropping my bag.

He grunted in response, not bothering to look at me.

“What’s got you so tense?” I asked, sitting cross-legged at the end of his bed.

“Statistics,” he muttered, finally glancing at me. “I don’t get it. None of it makes sense, and I’ve got a test coming up.”

My eyebrows lifted. “You need help?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening. “You’re good at stats?”

“Best in my class,” I said with a grin.

He sighed, sitting up and shoving his notebook toward me. “Fine. Go for it.”

I moved closer, sitting beside him and leaning over his notebook. As I walked him through the problems, pointing out where he was going wrong, his tension slowly eased. For once, he was actually listening to me, following along as I explained step by step.

When we finished the last problem, I looked up to find his face just a few inches from mine. I hadn’t realized how close I’d gotten, leaning over his shoulder.

Our eyes met, and for a long moment, neither of us moved. My breath caught in my throat as I noticed how sharp his jaw looked, how his blue eyes were locked on mine like he was trying to figure me out.

I didn’t know what I was expecting—maybe for him to say something sarcastic or push me away like he always did. But instead, he just stared, his gaze flicking to my lips for a split second before snapping back to my eyes.

The room felt too quiet, the air too heavy. My pulse quickened.

Then he blinked and backed away abruptly, clearing his throat.

“Thanks for the help,” he muttered, looking anywhere but at me.

“Yeah,” I said softly, still trying to process what just happened. “No problem.”

He busied himself with his notebook, and I got up, heading to my bed without another word. My heart was racing, but I wasn’t about to be the one to break the silence. Not yet.

About twenty minutes after I’d helped Matt with his stats, he stood from his bed, his hands shoved into his hoodie pockets.

“Hey,” he said, his voice more casual than usual.

“Hey,” I replied, unsure where this was going.

“A few of us are grabbing dinner tonight—me, Chris, and some of the guys. You wanna come?”

I blinked. “Dinner? Like, now?”

“In about an hour,” he said, his tone nonchalant. “There’s this diner about twenty minutes away. Decent food. My treat.”

I hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out his angle. He didn’t usually invite me to anything, let alone with his teammates. But I was too curious to say no. “Alright, sure. I’m in.”

“Good. Be ready,” he said simply, before disappearing out the door.

By the time we were piling into Matt’s car, I was starting to question my decision. Matt was driving, with Chris in the front seat, and I was in the back.

The ride was loud and chaotic, filled with jokes and banter that I only half-followed. Matt seemed relaxed, laughing at something Chris said, but every now and then, I caught him glancing at me in the rearview mirror.

When we got to the diner, it was exactly what I expected—cheap food, noisy atmosphere, and a jukebox in the corner that no one was using. We grabbed a booth, and I ended up sitting between Chris and Matt.

Dinner was surprisingly fun. Chris kept making jokes, and I couldn’t help but laugh, even when Matt rolled his eyes at him. There was an ease to the group, and for a little while, I forgot about all the tension from the past weeks.

When we got back to the dorms, Chris followed us in, and to my surprise, their other triplet brother, Nick, was lounging on the couch.

Nick’s face lit up when he saw me. “Y/N!” he said, jumping up and pulling me into a tight hug.

“Hey, Nick!” I laughed, hugging him back. Nick and I had always gotten along in high school. He’d been one of the few people who made me feel genuinely welcome, and he’d always had a soft spot for me.

“God, I haven’t seen you in forever,” he said, stepping back and giving me an exaggerated once-over. “You look amazing.”

“You’re just saying that because you missed me,” I teased.

“Damn right I did,” he said with a grin. “Come on, let’s go for a walk. I need all the gossip about what it’s like living with this one.” He jerked his thumb toward Matt, who scowled at him.

“Sure,” I said, grabbing my coat.

Nick and I walked in the cool night air toward the small corner store on campus. It was quiet, and for the first time all day, I felt like I could breathe.

“So,” Nick said, breaking the silence. “What’s it like living with Matt?”

“Chaotic,” I admitted, shoving my hands into my pockets. “He’s…a lot.”

Nick laughed. “Yeah, he’s always been intense. But I need details. What’s he been like? Any drama?”

I hesitated, debating how much to tell him. Finally, I sighed. “Alright, fine. There’s been some…complications.”

“Oh, this sounds good,” he said, leaning in like I was about to tell him the secret of the universe.

I took a deep breath. “So, uh, I may have made out with Chris. And Matt walked in.”

Nick stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide. “You what?”

“Yeah,” I said, cringing. “It just happened. And Matt completely lost it.”

Nick rubbed his forehead, muttering something under his breath. “Of course he did. Let me guess—he screamed at you like it was the end of the world?”

“Pretty much,” I said, shrugging.

“Classic Matt,” Nick said, shaking his head. “Look, I love my brothers, but they’re both idiots sometimes. Chris is too laid-back, and Matt’s got that whole ‘control freak’ thing going on. You’re stuck in the middle, and I don’t envy you.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said dryly.

“Anytime,” he said, slinging an arm around my shoulder as we walked into the store. “Now, let’s get snacks. I need chocolate after hearing that story.”

That night, Nick decided he wasn’t leaving anytime soon. Chris dragged his mattress down the hall from his dorm room and tossed it on the floor of our room. “It’s basically a family reunion,” he joked as he plopped down.

Nick claimed the couch, sprawled out like he owned the place. We ordered pizza, argued over which movie to watch, and eventually settled on some random action flick no one was actually paying attention to.

The four of us were crammed into the small space: Matt on his bed, Chris on the floor, Nick on the couch, and me sitting on my bed. The atmosphere was surprisingly light—jokes flying, occasional bursts of laughter, and even Matt seemed more relaxed than usual.

About halfway through the movie, Matt’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Who’s that?” Nick asked, not even looking up from the bag of chips he was demolishing.

“Volleyball house is throwing,” Matt said, standing up and stretching. “We going?”

“Hell yeah,” Chris said immediately, already grabbing his shoes.

Nick shrugged. “Why not? I could use a drink.”

Everyone looked at me. “Fine,” I said, rolling my eyes. “But don’t expect me to babysit anyone.”

“Really, Nicks carrying you home tonight. Me and Matt have done it enough” Chris said causing matt to stifle out a laugh, i just rolled my eyes.

By the time we got to the volleyball house, Music was blaring, red Solo cups were everywhere, and the place was packed. I’d told myself I wasn’t going to drink, but that resolve lasted all of five minutes. The vibe was too good, and I needed something to loosen me up.

I grabbed a cup, poured myself a drink, and wandered through the party. It wasn’t long before I spotted Matt on one of the couches, a girl way too close to him. She was clearly flirting, What is up with all these girls.

Something about the sight made my blood boil. Maybe it was the way she leaned into him like he was hers. Or maybe it was the way Matt didn’t seem to mind. Either way, I decided I wasn’t letting her win this one.

I walked over, weaving through the crowd until I was standing right in front of him.

“Matt,” I said sweetly, my voice just loud enough to carry over the music. “I’m freezing.”

His eyes flicked to me, scanning my outfit—jeans and a tiny cropped tank top that left nothing to the imagination. Without a word, he reached over, tugged off his black sweatshirt, and handed it to me, completely ignoring the girl next to him.

“Thanks,” I said, slipping it on and letting it drown me. It smelled like him—clean, with a hint of cologne—and I couldn’t help the small, satisfied smile that crept onto my face.

I plopped down on the armrest of the couch next to him, leaning closer. “You wanna go smoke?” I asked, my voice low enough that only he could hear.

He glanced at me, then at the girl still sitting there awkwardly, clearly waiting for his attention. Without a second thought, he stood up. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The girl’s mouth fell open slightly, but Matt didn’t even glance back as he followed me outside.

We found a quiet spot in the backyard, away from the noise and chaos of the party. The air was cool, and I shoved my hands into the sweatshirt pockets as Matt pulled out a joint.

“You don’t usually ask me to smoke,” he said, lighting it and taking a drag.

“Tonight’s a special occasion,” I said with a smirk, taking it from him.

He leaned back against the porch railing, watching me as I exhaled a cloud of smoke. The tension between us felt different out here—less sharp, more muted.

“You’re a piece of work, you know that?” he said suddenly, his voice laced with amusement.

I raised an eyebrow. “Why? Because I’m cold?”

“Because you’re you,” he said, shaking his head like it was obvious.

I didn’t reply, just handed the joint back to him and let the silence stretch between us. For once, it didn’t feel uncomfortable. It felt…easy.

The sounds of the party drifted faintly in the background, but out here, it was just us. And for now, that was enough.

After we finished the joint, we headed back inside, and the vibe between Matt and me felt… different. Not tense, not argumentative—just easy. Comfortable, even.

I grabbed another drink and stuck close to Matt for the rest of the night. Chris and Nick were off socializing, blending seamlessly into the party like they always did, but I didn’t feel like mingling. For once, Matt didn’t either.

Girls kept coming up to him, flashing smiles and batting their lashes, trying to steal his attention. Normally, he’d entertain them for a bit, but tonight, he barely acknowledged them. Instead, his focus stayed on me, his sharp eyes tracking wherever I went, even if I just stepped away to grab another drink.

I wasn't hammered like I had been at other parties, but I was drunk enough to feel the warmth of it buzzing in my veins. Matt cracked a few sarcastic jokes that actually made me laugh, and I teased him back, surprised at how much fun I was having with him. It felt like we’d forgotten all the tension between us for a moment, and I wasn’t mad about it.

Eventually, Chris found his way back to us, his arm slung around some girl he’d apparently charmed.

“We heading out soon?” he asked, grinning like he hadn’t a care in the world.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Matt said, standing up and stretching.

We all stumbled back to the dorms, laughing and joking as the cool night air sobered us up just enough to make the walk bearable. When we got to our building, Chris walked the girl to the elevator, only to pause halfway there.

“Shit,” he muttered, turning back to us. “My mattress is in your room.”

Matt smirked. “Sucks for you.”

Chris groaned, sending the girl off with a quick apology before trudging back to us. “Guess I’m crashing with you guys tonight.”

“Wow, that really sucks for us,” Nick added, grinning as he opened the door to our dorm.

The four of us spent the rest of the night lounging around the room, talking about everything and nothing. Nick kept us entertained with stories from his time at school, Chris added his usual ridiculous commentary, and Matt—well, Matt surprised me.

He was relaxed, leaning back on his bed, chiming in occasionally with dry humor that actually made me laugh. At one point, he even looked at me and said, “You’re not as annoying tonight.”

“Wow, thanks,” I replied, rolling my eyes. But I was smiling.

It was the first time in a long time that things felt normal between us. No fighting, no tension—just us, hanging out like friends. I didn’t know how long it would last.

When we finally called it a night, I crawled into my bed, still wearing Matt’s sweatshirt. As I closed my eyes, Drifting to sleep.

tags-

@namelesssav @tbfaptbfae @simply-a-simper @sturnioloshottiekay @emma-sturniolo @hanta-seros-wifey @2muchofaslvt @christmastreecake @rockstarchr1s @sturnrc @larnieboox88 @chrisstopherfilmed

editor -

@ch0llies

[prncssie]

minors mdni

hobie is just so needy today.

it really is his fault but it’s driving you up the wall. he’s the one who insisted on tagging along with you but now he wants to complain. you’re not giving him enough attention, you’re not shopping fast enough, you’re not leaving soon enough. it’s all because of that damn chocolate.

you’re an innocent bystander in all this, for once. he’s the one who discovered it and the one who bought it. originally, he did try to attempt you to try it with him but you flat out refused.

you’re too busy, having to work long hours for the next few days. the last thing you want is some mysterious aphrodisiac running through your system.

hobie has all the time in the world, though. because he doesn’t work a conventional job he figured he’d be the perfect subject. especially after you told him just how doubtful you were.

there is just dozens of products claiming to do the same, both cheaper and expensive. to you, aphrodisiacs are just another scam for the touch starved. never did you think the king of physical affection himself would introduce it into your relationship.

that was a mere few hours ago. now, he’s tugging at your sweater. he will not let you go for more than five seconds without him feeling you up. every time you find yourself stopping to flip through the clothing rack, hobie’s hands are wandering over your body.

“stop it,” you push his hands away from your body for the umpteenth time. this time, they’ve wandered underneath your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin.

the last time you gave him the benefit of the doubt, he’d nearly unclipped your bra.

from an outside perspective, hobie is doting on you with his arms wrapped around you and his head resting on your shoulders. only you know how he squeezes at your tummy and laps the skin on your neck.

“hobart,” you sneer. you’re tempted to push him away from you completely.

that gets him. he hesitates, but only for a second. the shock of his government name leaving your lips doesn’t stop him for long. he’s too far gone, too deep in thinking with his dick. “call me that again and i’ll shove my whole dick in you right now.”

“try it. i’ll kill you, then myself.” you push a hanger on, passing up another skirt. you’re doing your best to make the most of what you have. this is supposed to be a relaxing little treat to yourself for all your hard work. instead, you’re fighting to keep hobie away from you.

you’re only successful for two more seconds before he’s back at it, trying to undress you in public. he tells you he can’t help it. you just look too good and smell too sweet. he’s intoxicated off the strawberry poundcake perfume you’re wearing and the way your ass looks in your jeans.

he pushes against you. groaning into your ear when he fits so snugly against you. the chocolate really has him on fire. just hearing your voice has precum leaking. he’s already addicted to you without it. with it, he’s convinced he’s ready to have baby now. “come on, ☆. let’s just go home. i’ll bring you back tomorrow.”

“baby, i can’t. i work tomorrow.” you untangle your limbs. in the end, you decide it’s better to be separate. he can’t control himself and you can’t control him.

it’s to no avail. just as quickly as you find yourself finally free from his grip, he’s pulling you back into his chest. “okay. then the next day.” he digs his nose into your scalp. the smell of your black vanilla shampoo turns him nearly animalistic

meanwhile, you’re suffocating in his loose black crop top. you wouldn’t care if the corset underneath wasn’t squishing your face. “still can’t. i have class.” you have to lift your head, much to his dismay.

one look at you changes that. it’s a fair trade, he rationalizes with a hungry stare. “okay? then skip it or some shit. i don’t care.” his hands dip down rather quickly. he gropes and grabs, despite your quiet shriek.

“get offa’ me.” you all but shove him, head whipping around to check if anyone saw. you’re lucky the mall is deserted so early in the morning on a weekday. the run of the mill teenagers are busy in class. “i swear to god if you do that again i’ll grind you into dust.” you point a finger at him but you’re sure you don’t look threatening at all.

he reaches for you again, scowling when you narrowly dodge him. “promise?” hobie quips with an annoying raise of his brow. his voice drops to a whisper when he finally catches you and tugs you close. “you can’t even suck me off in the dressing room?”

your face is burning with a fire you’ve never felt before. where he got the confidence to say such words, you have no idea. in public, at that! “are you actually serious?” you pinch the tips of your ears. sure enough, they’re warm with humiliation. does he have no shame?”

oh he’s serious all right. he’s so serious he drags you off to the dressing rooms himself. thanks to his lifelong experience in breaking laws and the learned creeping that comes with living a double life, he slips right by the employees with no problems.

he’s careless, bumping all against the walls, in a rush to lock the door behind you. you’ve never seen him this eager before. sure, during your usual times he’s excited. but right now, he’s nearly cumming before you’re doing anything.

“you’re sure you wanna do this? you really wanna? right here?” you’re quieter than usual, feeling as if it’s required while you’re sneaking around.

“the more you ask me, the longer this will take.” even the way he requests for you to shut up isn’t the same. there is no threat backing up his words, even when he closes the space between you.

you’re curious. some chocolate had your usually composed boyfriend like this? you’re not going to lie to yourself and pretend his change in behavior doesn’t make you feel some type of way.

usually it’s you shaking with need and making a mess everywhere. never have you had this much power in your relationship. if you weren’t on a time crunch and in the privacy of your home, you would have definitely taken your time with him. “you’re the one who needs me. i’ll change my mind.”

“please don’t play with me, right now. i ate the whole fucking square and i swear to – if you don’t do something, i’ll suck it myself.” he’s so frantic to remove the layers of silver belts, it takes him nearly twice as long. you aid him, taking pity. it’s you so many times on that end of the stick. even though you’ve never eaten an aphrodisiac, having hobie as your boyfriend is enough.

you giggle when hobie shuffles toward you, pants hanging loosely. he doesn’t share your sentiment. apparently, nothing about this is funny. he doesn’t argue back. just pops his dick in your face.

your wrap your fingers around the base and already, he’s groaning. for once he has to brace himself against you, hands resting in your shoulders.

“y’know you have to be quiet right?” you glance up at him. you test his reactions with slow jerks of your wrist. you don’t really need to when he’s already this worked up but it’s nice to the one causing the soft sighs.

his breath fans over your face and warms your cheeks. between his glistening shaft and his tightly wounded face, you don’t know where to look. “don’t let this, fuck. don’t let this go to your head.”

it’s far too late for that but you don’t tell him. you just smile to yourself instead and swirl your tongue around his tip. you’re teasing, he knows, but he honestly doesn’t care. his senses are heightened so much this feels like enough.

jokes on him, hobie is unprepared when you do begin to swallow him. he shocks himself when he gasps and pushes your head away. it’s so uncharacteristic of him that even he is embarrassed about it. “shit, baby. could have said something first.” he feels pathetic avoiding your gaze and even more so he meets his own in the mirror.

you shake your head, tongue darting out to lick the slightly salty remnants off your lips. “you don’t get to annoy me all day and push me away.” it would be unfair if you didn’t enjoy this, right? it’s only right after all he’s put you through. you owe it to him to leave him shaking.

he’s just about to chastise you and defend his honor when you’re right where you started. this time, however, you’re forcing yourself to take as much as you can.

hobie is constantly bumping against your throat with the way you’re bobbing your head. tears prickle your eyes and occasionally you gag but it’s all worth it. all when his hand is flying to cover his mouth and the other one has a grip on your hair.

contrary to popular belief, he isn’t forcing your head down but pulling your head away. he’s far more sensitive than he thought, too sensitive for his own good.

his hand is barely sufficient to keep his cries to a minimum, alternating between telling you to stop and to keep going.

your nails dig into his skin, being your main defense from being yanked off. you only stop to come up for air. your thumb circles around his tip with enough pressure to have him shuddering. your breath fans over his skin when you press wet kisses along his shaft.

“baby,” hobie speaks with his clenched in a fist, knuckles in his mouth. it serves as a warning. his brain is too far incapacitated to form sentences.

“if you’re gonna cum, do it in my mouth.” you mumble, words ghosting over him. it’s embarrassing enough to be giving him a blowjob in the mall dressing room. the last thing you want is cum stains littering your top.

it only takes his dick being enveloped in the warmth of your mouth for him to be shooting out thick ropes. hobie whines, using the hold he has on your hair to pull you off.

you wait until his eyes are on you to make a show out of swallowing his load, mouth opening to display the disappearing evidence.

it’s probably a mistake on your part when you physically see the hunger return in his face with a vengeance.

“fuck that was hot. let’s go home and do it again.”

your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. “what?” you don’t understand how he can already be thinking of another round when he was just griping about his sensitivity. “but what about me? i want to stay.” you watch him scramble to redress himself, accessories and all. your eyebrows knit together because there is no way some chocolate can do this.

“i’ll bring you back tomorrow,” he insists, pulling you to your feet. whatever secrecy you still have is thrown out the window when he pushes the door open with enough force to have it ricocheting off the wall.

“but i can’t. i have work, remember?” you cup the back of your head as he leads you through the store, right to the exit. you didn’t have time to fix your hair. he’s been so inconsiderate, it’s not fair.

“okay then we’ll go the next day.”

“ ‘bie, i have class – ” you really have to look at what they put in this stuff.

“then fuckin’ skip it. i don’t care.”

[charonsferry]

A Volunteer Musters In

Decided to write something longer for a change. Vaguely inspired by another post I saw.

The door opens to a witch's office on a quiet urban street. It's late at night, but today she has an appointment which will likely last until the next day.

"Welcome! Please come on in so we can verify some details."

In steps a young man, at most twenty years old, who bears a neutral expression yet a face that only shows a troubled life. The reader surely understands that this "man" is simply incapable of comfort with her body, and this is the nature of her appointment.

The witch closes the door behind them and guides her client upstairs to her office desk.

"I have yet to actually ask," said the witch, "Is there a reason you have come here in particular? There are certainly other witches who work specifically for people who need their bodies refined-"

"That's the thing, miss," replied her client, "I just don't want to be a person anymore. It has simply been... too much." A faint tear builds on the corner of her eye. Instinctively, the witch reaches for a handkerchief to wipe it off for her, but she moves back in rejection.

"A hesitation like that makes me wonder if you'll be a good fit, but... oh well, I guess I could just..."

Reaching back into her desk, she pulls out an object the client does not recognize - but soon places her in a state of tranquility. The tears fade and a resolve she has almost never felt to speak her mind builds within.

"My life as a person has simply been one form of torture after another. I had thought about transitioning, I had thought about domestic dollmakers, but my heart is simply too cold. I need a life as cold as it."

The witch was now satisfied with her response. "That certainly seems like what my dolls go through. I myself don't treat them as poorly, but war is indeed a cold and bitter thing. I had initially put in some requests after losing some dolls on a tour, but I certainly didn't expect a request from a volunteer. It's been a while..."

"Where do you normally get them from, anyways?", asked the client.

"Well, it's not a pretty matter normally," the witch sighed. "Only a few types of people can be legally made into dolls without consent. Most are actually infants and children who perished before baptism. Some criminals are sentenced to it from time to time - I don't do that, personally. Which is why I'm quite thrilled by this, really. You will be a perfect fit for us."

"So, are you ready to do it tonight?" the client said with as much impatience as the spell would let her have.

"Yes, I just have some waiver you'll need to sign. Just paperwork, really. You'll need to sign with your legal, by the way."

The client was now concerned more than the spell could withhold - could her deadname be the last thing she ever writes? Or worse, would this not fulfill her desires at all?

She asked the witch this, to witch she replied "Of course I'll make a girl of you! Or at least as much of a girl as a doll can be, even though I doubt you'll care much once it's all done."

"Of course I'll care," the client said as she took a pen and signed the waiver that she felt she'd already seen before, "It's the only thing I've ever wanted."

But as soon as the ink with her now truly dead name was on the paper, a strange chill filled her body, soon followed by numbness, and then - she couldn't move a muscle!

"Phew, I did that right!" the witch said, "With your new Stillness you are now technically a doll already, but there will certainly need to be some work done from here on out. Let me start with shaving your face and, uh... actually I'll do that later..."

The client - apparently now the doll - began to slip into some different form of consciousness. A flurry of thoughts were dancing about in her mind. I'm really becoming a girl! I'll finally be everything I want to be!

But... what do I want? Do I specifically want something for myself? Maybe my desires lie in...

Minutes passed into hours, and the witch continued to work away at the new doll's unnecessary flesh, swapping atrophied tendons for rigid balljoints, fully removing the source of those years of dysphoria to leave another barren plate.

She... Miss... She did it! I wish I could thank her right now! But, I don't know if... Maybe this one should ask Miss before using that word again...

This one must follow Miss's every command. Miss is this one's lifeblood. Miss is this one's Purpose.

The doll opened its now porcelain eyes. Its witch sat before it with an anxious expression.

"M... Miss? Thank you, miss..." said the doll with a voice at least an octave higher than the one it had earlier that night.

"You're welcome, my new doll! You turned out perfectly! I made sure to put extra effort into your hair, if it still matters."

"What should this one do now, Miss?"

"Follow me downstairs to where your quarters will be and be Still where the other dolls are. I need to go to bed, and you need to be up at 6 for training."

"Understood, Miss."

The doll stood up on its new legs, and walked in a pace already resembling a march to a room right next to the witch's where four dolls were seated side by side. The doll sat down, and again dipped into Stillness.

Just across from it was a small mirror that reflected a beautiful facsimile of a woman, but the doll closed its eyes - it'd prefer to just see Miss for now.

[starrygetou]

I AM Your Girlfriend

tags: yuri!nanago (finally branching out, we cheered), H.I. trio are all happy and besties, college au

w.c: 700ish

a.n: originally this was gonna be stsg but somehow the nanago train hit me and they just made more sense w/ this scenario. i’ve been thinking about this scenario nonstop the past like … 3 days. and, i wanted to go deeper and ?maybe? get a lil smutty but i decided to keep it classy for once. (divider creds)

satoru, for the last time, she is NOT your girlfriend. there’s absolutely zero chance,” shoko instills as she grabs another drink from her bag.

“yeah. considering how you treat her in econ freshman year, there’s no way she’d even think about hugging you, let alone dating you.” geto chimes in as she finishes up her lunch, packing her trash and bag away into her bag. satoru lets out a lengthy groan, swishing around the last of her strawberry milk that suddenly doesn’t seem sweet anymore. “so people can’t change? you guys make it seem like i’m a menace,” she pouts.

“because you are,” the other two say in unison.

satoru just sits there, dumbfounded that her two best friends wouldn’t believe that kento is her girlfriend. sure, the two have had a rocky start but things changed after a recent study session between the two.

satoru invited kento over since she needed some help for their literature class, which, satoru didn’t really need help. she just wanted to see kento. and the fact kento said yes?! she would’ve kicked herself for the next 5 years if she missed a chance like this.

everything was going well too! in fact, it felt like kento’s walls were down for once. for the first time, she actually enjoyed being around satoru. finally being able to see past her antics and clown facade she puts on every day before school. sure, kento had a minuscule crush on satoru, but she never let it grow more than a ‘wow, she looks really great today’ which turned into an every day thought.

all these new feelings came rushing to the front of kento’s brain after satoru opens the door, taking note of how blue is definitely her color with these pjs. and how she was also possibly mid night time routine with a paper face mask on, hair pushed back with a cinnomoroll headband with cute floppy ears.

did i come late? no..it’s only 7:30.

maybe she goes to bed early?

did i dress properly?

i think i misunderstood the dress code.

kento, no, there’s no dress code for a study date.

who said this is a date?

why is it so hot??

did i really wind myself out from 3 steps up to the door???

this shirt feels so clingy…

do i wanna kiss her or—

“kento? kento hello???” is what finally bings her back to reality. a hand gently on her shoulder and a separate hand waving in front of her face. “are you good?”

“i’m…great actually. thank you, for inviting me over.” kento smiled at satoru before finally entering.

before satoru is able to recall more of that night, she feels a pair of arms gently wrap around her shoulders from behind, a gentle kiss also being placed on her temple. and that’s when satoru finally loosened, scooting over a bit at the shared table and moving her backpack aside.

“sorry for being a hermit all lunch, i have a—“

“—statistics test. yea i remember that’s today” satoru finishes for her, gently wrapping an arm around kento’s waist as she sits and gets comfortable. “you’re gonna do great! just try to remember the tricks i taught you and you’re golden,” satoru beams up to her girlfriend, the two pecking lips together after which leaves their audience across the table completely dumbfounded at the scene playing in front of their eyes.

“so…you weren’t lying…” suguru breaks her silence in what feels like an eternity.

“that’s a really weird thing to lie about dude. besides! i don’t need to feel insecure about what others think about us,” satoru says looking at suguru before glancing to kento, resting her chin on the other’s shoulder.

“but you…and her…?” shoko stares at kento, not even being able to finish the rest of her chips.

“i will admit, i was *not* a fan of you in the beginning,” kento finally speaks up. satoru responding by pretending to be stabbed in the heart. “but..things do change. and i’m glad they did.”

[anothersoulless]

Seven Minutes in Hell {Breakup! Eustass Kid X Reader}

You have been treated badly one too many times. It's time to leave your Boyfriend behind

Shit hasn't been well, this song slaps and let's get this shit show started!

Ofc kinda angsty(not really though?, but on god Reader deserves freedom (Dw, my pookie will get another actual One shot soon lmao, hopefully as tasteful as the song but lbfr i'll probabky flump it again)

Anywho, let's get it started

Admittedly, your relationship with Kid was everything but healthy. He was loud and didn't really care about if you had to stand up in the morning, police called to your place more than once for loud screaming and arguments. There were his guy friends, his crew, that were obviously higher on his priority list than you — far higher. The amount of times he nearly went to jail for them, you'd thought Kid would have learned his lesson, but alas he never did. And you? Well, you seemed to only be there for one thing — stress relief. If that meant fucking you and screaming at you, something even throwing random stuff at you he found in the house, well, that was for him to decide on the whim.

If at least the sex was good, but even that was all about him. It was like the world revolved around him and only him and everyone had to do what he wanted. Well, too bad for him, you had enough. Years of misery finally snapping to a close, you decided he wasn't worth your time anymore. You were done with being treated like an old-timey housewife of the Middle Ages. You had packed your things while he was out with his friends again, ready to leave. There was no way in hell however you would want to miss his face when you confronted him, oh how you imagined he'd look. Would he be upset, would he scream at you again, only proving your point?

You put your last bag in your best friend's trunk, she had been kind enough to lend you a hand in her endeavor. If it went how she wanted to, you probably wouldn't even have started this relationship, but now she just sat ready to drive, the box of glitter she brought still sitting on the back seat as she gave you a last encouraging nod to take it. You didn't and went back inside, letting her know it could get late — she waited, of course. And you went back inside.

Kid was expecting food on the stove when he came back home, he didn't even notice your shoes missing on the shoe rack out front when he unlocked the apartment, but he did notice one thing — all that decor he had absolutely despised missing. He even smiled triumphantly before he realised the missing smell of fresh food. Kicking off his boots haphazardly, he stopped into the kitchen and saw you on your phone, sitting on a chair at the table. "Yo, what's with food?" "I won't make you food anymore."

There was a silence, a calm before the storm. You put your phone in your back pocket before he could fly off the handle, just in time. "What the fuck?! You're not even gonna make me food now, what are you even worth?!" You let him have his little temper tantrum, before you sighed. "We're done, Kid. I'm worth far more than you, and by all means... I really hope you never get another partner in your life, my god" He seethed, his face contorting in anger, but he didn't say anything, couldn't say anything, words missing on his tongue and voice dying in his throat. "Oh, and uh, I'm moving out. Like today." You shrugged.

All the tension in him seemed to snap at once, as he lunged forwards, grabbing you by your throat and pushing you against the wall. His metal fingers pressing down hard, actually restricting your airway. "You fucking bitch have the audacity to come in here, live here for years, be absolutely useless to me, then up and leave? No, no, you don't get to do that!" "Well, I was good enough to make you food. And to get you off, apparently. Also, you hurt me in any way, I won't hesitate to call the police, I only need to press one button right now." He huffed, he really seemed like a bull trapped in a ring with gladiators, just that this was no real fight. "Don't fucking pretend like you didn't like this shit, wasn't that part of the reason you even came here in the first place?"

"It was, at the start" You smiled. "You just kind of… Put me through hell, not gonna lie. Like, you've gotten so bad in bed, it's actively hell. Like I'm just there, and honestly, no. Not even a thank you, no — just no." His hands clenched into fists, and for a second you thought you had crossed the line, as he raised his hand, before he turned, smashing the table with his prosthetic. "Get out you fucking whore! Get out, or I swear I'll rip your fucking throat out!" You didn't need to get asked twice, running to your friends' car, who looked at you worriedly, but you smiled as you hoped into the passenger seat. "Drive, Drive!" And without a word, she started the car as you began laughing. Finally, you were free again.

[maeleelee]

You’re my future.

I had gotten really sad last night because of my personal life and really needed something to make me happy. So I wrote a drabble.

Wooyoung x reader.

Fluff to the max if you ask me.

She sat there sighing. He was supposed to meet her here, at the coffee shop he recommended. The only good thing that happened was the coffee she had gotten.

She knew dating would be difficult after she got out of her marriage. She loved the man but he didn’t love her enough so she left. She couldn’t beat herself up anymore. “Bunny.” She turned her head and smiled softly as her best friend Mar sat down in the seat in front of her.

“Cassi told me you were here. You okay?” She shrugged.

“Yeah. This is the second time this week. Guess they don’t want someone who’s been used.” She mumbled towards her best friend.

“Don’t do that to yourself y/n. You’re amazing and the right person will come in and sweep you off your feet.” Mar smiled at her. “Please know that none of these men are worth any of your time. Now get up, we’re going back to mommy’s house.” Mar held out their hand.

Y/n grabbed Mar’s hand and stood up, as they were heading out the door, y/n accidentally bumped into someone and coffee hit her and the floor. “Shit. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” She mumbled out. She looked up and froze when she saw the man in front of her. “Wooyoung?” She questioned.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” He smiled brightly. Fuck did she love that smile. They had been close friends in high school and then in college. They only fell out because she got her dream job at a bakery and he became a chef in a different country.

“I think I should be asking you that.” She giggled. “Oh! This is my bun bun, Mar. Mar this is Wooyoung. We were best friends in college.” Y/n smiled.

“Highschool too. Nice to meet you Mar.” He smiled brightly. “What are you doing in town? How’s the husband?” Her face dropped and his eyes widened. “Oh shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t-“ She cut him off with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“I left him. It wasn’t going well and trust had been broken and yeah. Just, I decided I needed to look out for myself.” She shrugged.

“Good. I didn’t like the douche. He wasn’t good enough for you. You’ve always deserved to be treated like the princess you are.” He smiled as he touched her cheek softly.

“Are you flirting again?” The three looked over and y/n giggled at the boy.

“Hey Yeosang.” Y/n smiled and waved.

“No way! Y/n how have been.” He smiled at y/n.

“I’m good. This is my bun bun, Mar. Mar this is Yeosang. Another friend from school.” Mar giggled as she watched y/n turn red as Wooyoung moved to push hair behind her ear.

“We have to get going and I’d like to get the coffee off of me. I’ll see you around.” She smiled at the two boys and headed out the door with Mar.

~

“I need you to stop spacing out and talk to me. Why did you never tell her you loved her?” Yeosang asked Wooyoung as they sat at the table. Wooyoung had got a new coffee.

“Because when I was finally gonna tell her she got with her ex. I never had the chance to show her I could treat her better. He pulled her away. And we went overseas.” He sighed.

“I think we should go see if she still works at that bakery tomorrow and you finally tell her you’ve liked her for years. You both deserve to be happy and the way she smiled and blushed when you stood in front of her tells me she at least likes you.” Yeosang told the boy. “This is your chance. Go for it.”

~

Y/n smiled as she walked into the bakery with Kayla next to her. “You ready for today?” Kayla asked her. She shook her head and sighed.

“I almost called out. I just feel like the world is caving in on me again.” Y/n mumbled as she moved around cupcakes and muffins.

“Baby.” Kayla pouted.

“I’ll be fine. Reasons I still came in.” Y/n smiled at Kayla but it didn’t reach her eyes, which continued to happen more often than not now. It made Kayla sad watching the once happy y/n be so hurt. They had finally gotten everything ready for the day and all the muffins out.

The doorbell rang and Kayla smiled and shouted a ‘hello’. “Hi. I’m looking for y/n.. does she still work here?” Y/n poked her head up from behind the counter and smiled.

“Well hello there.” Kayla watched the smile, on y/n’s face, go to her eyes. “What can I do for you?”

“Go to dinner with me? Whenever you’re free?” Wooyoung asked her.

“I get off at six thirty. Pick me up?” She said, giggling lightly.

“I’ll be here bunny.” He smiled and walked back towards the door.

She looked at Kayla who was looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “Bunny, huh?” Y/n’s face got red and she pouted.

“We were best friends before I got married. We really liked Zootopia and decided I was the bunny and he was the fox. It became our thing.” She smiled as a light blush went across her cheeks.

“You know they end up together at the end of that movie, right?” Kayla giggled.

“I-“ y/n froze and pouted at her. “Don’t jinx it. I always liked him. I just never thought he felt the same so I moved on.”

“Well, I think it’s safe to say he likes you too, bunny.” Kayla smirked as she started doing more stuff around the store. Y/n stood there, flustered and all smiles.

~

“Hi.” She was smiling at Wooyoung, who was holding out flowers. “I hope you like them.”

“You remember my favorite flower?” She looked at him.

“I remember a lot about my future.” He whispered to her. She looked back up at him as she grabbed the flowers.

“Your future?” She questioned.

“You. You’re my future. I’m not letting you get away again.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. “He took you from me and I hated myself for not telling you how I felt for the longest time. I want to show you how much someone can actually love someone. I’ll prove to you that happy endings do happen and that you’re so worth it. One chance, that’s all I’m asking for.” He looked at her.

“Kiss me.” She whispered and he did just that.

He pressed his lips to hers and she knew he was the one. The one she had been waiting on her whole life. He was her home and she was his.

Taglist:

@bunnyiix @acrylishly @babyboyquokka @littleleatabixx @imagine-a-life-like-this @mxnsxngie @cadenonlinelive @weird-bookworm

[saras-devotionals]

Quiet Time 9/6

What am I feeling today?

I wish I had been more productive today. Then again I was really tired and it was probably good for me to get that extra bit of sleep. Prayerfully all my plans can follow through today. Also, I’m trying so so hard to keep a level head. There’s a brother in the church who I’ve developed an interest in and I don’t want to spiral like I have the habit of doing in the past. I just need to trust in God and His timing and not fret and preoccupy myself with worrying about whether he likes me or will ask me out again or if he feels the same way about me etc.

Bible Plan: Rethinking Love and Romance

Finally, we turn to the New Testament’s Christmas story—wait, what? We associate angels, shepherds, and wise men with the Christmas story, but romance? Stick with us. There is something profound to learn about love from a character who does not have a single line in the story.

Matthew’s gospel tells us that Joseph was betrothed to Mary. In their world, betrothals were more serious than modern wedding engagements. The two were legally bound to one another, though they didn’t yet live together or consummate their relationship. During the betrothal time, Mary discovers that she is pregnant—and the baby is not Joseph’s (Matt. 1:18). Imagine being Joseph in this scenario. What is he supposed to do? In their culture, this would have been humiliating to both Mary and him.

Joseph shows lovingkindness to Mary by deciding to divorce her quietly (Matt. 1:19). That doesn’t seem very loving, but consider the cultural context. Joseph could have preserved his own reputation by publicly shaming Mary. He could have told everyone she was pregnant with a child that wasn’t his, leaving her to carry the burden alone. But Joseph won’t do it. He shows mercy toward Mary.

The authors say he wants to divorce her quietly because he is a “righteous” (Greek: dikaios) man. This word in Greek is deeply relational, describing someone doing right by another person and treating others as infinitely valuable creations of God. What could be more loving than treating someone with mutual respect and acknowledging that God built them for honor, blessing, and endless lovingkindness? Joseph wishes Mary no harm. He chooses to care for her.

Joseph is later awakened by a messenger, an angel, who instructs him to not divorce Mary. For Joseph, a quick and quiet divorce instinctively looked best for everyone involved. But Joseph chooses to trust the angel and, again, acts in a way that cares for and blesses (or gives life to) Mary—a picture of true love.

Most of us aren’t getting angelic instructions about who to stay romantically involved with. Wouldn’t that be nice? But we can still choose to act in love toward others in the way that Joseph did. Are we loving another person because of what they can do for us, or are we loving them so that they can be built up, cared for, and blessed with life? Are we choosing to do right by the other person regardless of what they can do for us?

In today’s video, learn more about the Hebrew word khesed that describes the relational and active love that God has for his people.

Matthew 1:18-25 NIV

“This is how the birth of Jesus the Messiah came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be pregnant through the Holy Spirit. Because Joseph her husband was faithful to the law, and yet did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly. But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”). When Joseph woke up, he did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took Mary home as his wife. But he did not consummate their marriage until she gave birth to a son. And he gave him the name Jesus.”

I never thought about this too deeply but let’s take a moment to reflect on this situation. Joseph is a man betrothed to a woman who is now pregnant with a child that he knows it not his. Think for a moment how that would make you feel, betrayed? angry? bitter? disappointed? disgusted? hurt? I can’t imagine what it must have been like initially for Joseph but take some time again to reflect on how he responded to the situation.

It says he did not want to expose her to public disgrace. Think about what that says about him and his character especially during this time period and cultural context. He loved Mary in a way of respect and kindness, he was looking out for her even when it may have seemed she wasn’t doing the same for him.

This can lead us to a great practical:

Are we loving another person because of what they can do for us, or are we loving them so that they can be built up, cared for, and blessed with life? Are we choosing to do right by the other person regardless of what they can do for us?

No matter what happens or how how people treat us today (and any other day for that matter) - we should show the same love that God has shown us. Let’s not grumble when asked to do something. Let’s build up other people with our words. Let’s take the time to encourage one another.

[apupp3tw0-strings]

Halloween Hassles

Date: October 31st, 2131

Today is Halloween, one of the most exciting nights of the year. Though it was a bit rushed, I decided to dress up as my Dark World form (which I sadly couldn't really tell anyone about so I just went with its a D&D character or something I made up). Even if it's rushed though, I'm still proud of it. It took a lot of cardboard and spray paint to make, and I even got my sister Broadway to help me temporally dye my hair pink! ... Even if glee says now I have to pay glam back because it was glare last box. Not my fault glee also decided to dress as glare Dark World sona. According to Broadway "You present me with the perfect pop star idol version of myself in October and expect me NOT to use it as a costume?" (I was a bit disappointed once I finally looked in the mirror and saw it barely even looked pink though. But according to Broadway again "It's not going to be that vibrant if you don't bleach it first. It'd probably look a lot better on your white strand than the rest of your head if you'd let me dye that part." My Dark World form keeps that strand light, Broadz!)

Anyways, after dropping Spamton off at Castle Town for the day and after Papa dropped me off at school back in Meta City, I met up with my friends. I probably should have told them I decided to dress as something other than our agreed super hero group theme. In my defense, I forgot. I also forgot about a promise I made with CK last year about us going trick-or-treating together this year when the five of us agreed to go trick-or-treating together as usual. I said we still could all go together. ... As long as it was in HomeTown. ... Which is a 30 minute drive away from Meta City (I'm really starting to see why Papa mentioned we really need to find a more convenient way to Castle Town, especially when we're making that trip to and back at least daily...)

Neil had asked why CK couldn't just come trick-or-treat up here, especially since Blaze mentioned that candy around here is better (everyone near where we live is rich, of course they have better candy.) But I mentioned that there were some other reasons I wanted to trick-or-treat down in HomeTown. (Even if I did want to use tonight as a chance to finally introduce Spamton to my friends, I couldn't just tell them about Castle Town. Taffy and Blaze are the biggest gossips I know, as soon as they found out about the Dark World, the news would spread like wild fire!) Eventually I offered for my Papa to pick them up, which they all seemed okay with before the bell rung. Little did I know that'd be more tricky to sort out than first thought.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once school was over, Papa picked me up from school to drive me to HomeTown so I could pick up Spamton. While I was waiting, I had some mildly concerning Asker interactions before Papa showed up (Guys, even if some of you exist on another plane from me... I think... Please don't open any Dark Fountains. That's... That's bad. No.) Once Papa finally did arrive, another Asker asked how Spamton's been lately. It's been... an adjustment with him around. Both for him and all of us. Not a bad adjustment but... IDK, sometimes I question if we really can help him or Jevil. But, gyeh, that's probably just anxiety talking. The Asker then mentioned something about trying to reintroduce both of them to their old friends, like the Seam or the Addisons... I still don't think that'd be a good idea. From what I've seen, Spamton is extremely apprehensive even MENTIONING the Addisons. I know they miss him, and they want to apologize (I haven't forgotten the promise I made to Click, the pink one) but... I don't think Spamton feels ready to confront them.

That's when my Papa mentioned something. After I brought up my concerns with having Spamton talk to his old friends, again, Papa adjusted the car mirror to look back at me and said something actually really smart that I hadn't thought about until now.

"PROBABLY BECAUSE HE'S STILL AFRAID. FROM WHAT I'VE HEARD, HE DOES RESENT THEM FOR ABANDONING HIM, BUT MOSTLY HE'S AFRAID THEY STILL HATE HIM."

"How… How do you know?" I asked, confused as to how Papa knew something like that when I didn't. I know Papa has been taking the charge as the adult in trying to help both Spamton and Jevil, but Spamton is MY friend (or... at least I hope he is). It feels like something I would have heard about first.

"HE TOLD ME." Papa stated. "WHEN WE HAD KRIS, CK, AND JEVIL COME OVER TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO HANDLE THIS SITUATION SOME WEEKS AGO. THOUGH JEVIL'S CLAIM OF WANTING HELPED SEEMED TO JUST BE ANOTHER GAME TO HIM, I WAS ABLE TO HAVE A RATHER CONSTRUCTIVE CONVERSATION WITH SPAMTON."

Yeah... So remember some weeks ago when there was the whole Dark World in my attic thing and I got possessed? Apparently while CK and I were doing that and we told Jevil and Spamton to distract Papa and Kris, though Jevil was being his usual self, aka an "annoying little shite" or a "bloody pain in my side" according to Kris, Papa managed to have something of a very productive and helpful break through with Spamton. (... That probably explains why he was acting so off and seemed pretty burnt out once CK and I got back.)

Once we finally arrived to HomeTown and I headed inside the school closet to Castle Town, I quickly found that Spamton wasn't in his room in the Castle. Naturally this freaked me out, not knowing where he was, the Askers did not help my anxiety. I knocked on Jevil's door to ask if he knew where Spamton was, to which the jester told me he had gone out because Jevil and Dorothy (who woke up about a day or so after my last post and I forgot to write about it. I should do that soon) where making quite a racket when Spamton was trying to read a magazine or something. Jevil then asked about if he'd returned or not yet. Okay, so now I had some sense of why Spamton was gone, but still not where he was. I thanked Jevil for the help and went out to look for Spamton. (Jevil was apparently too tired from earlier to help.)

To be continued

[achronicmess]

Because You Can’t See It

TW: This post deals with chronic illness and its impact on mental health, specifically my personal experiences in this context.

You can’t see it. Most people would probably describe me as a dynamic, positive, and cheerful person. Because you can’t tell by looking at me that I’m sick. And often, I almost forget myself how much I deal with every single day. I usually go through life smiling because my illnesses are part of me, but they don’t define me. And even though I struggle, there’s no reason for me to treat those around me poorly. Often, I even feel really good, but then a day like today comes along, and all my positivity seems to vanish.

Yesterday, I was full of energy and drive, checking off my to-do list without any problems. Today, the world looks different. My alarm rings at 8 a.m. There’s so much to do; I absolutely have to keep working on my term paper. But just before 11 a.m., I’m still lying in bed. This time, it’s a migraine. My head is pounding, the light seems to stab through my eyes into my brain, poking around in there. I feel so nauseous that I try to stop myself from throwing up by doing breathing exercises. I know I should eat something to feel better, but I can’t get anything down. I can’t even touch my coffee. I’ve been lying here for almost three hours now, focusing on my breathing and thinking about all the things I need to get done today. At 11 a.m., I finally drag myself into the bathroom, hoping a hot shower will help. But I don’t even make it to the shower. I feel so sick that I just sit down on the bathroom floor. Breathe, I tell myself. Inhale, exhale, don’t panic. But as I sit here next to the dryer on the floor, I feel unbelievably pathetic. Here I am again. I feel terrible, and once again, my body is failing me, as it so often does. I break down in tears. Great, now I’m sitting here crying on the bathroom floor, and from this point, my thoughts spiral.

It’s always the same. It starts with “Why?”. Why me? What did I do to deserve this? Why is my body so fragile? Why can’t I just be healthy? Be normal? Why me? I sink into self-pity and hate myself for it because there are people who have it so much worse than I do. But the thoughts won’t stop. I feel like a failure. Weak, because I can’t even get through a simple day. Because I so often can’t meet my responsibilities. Because I neglect my friends, cancel plans, and can’t stick to deadlines. Because my studies are dragging on. Because I can’t establish routines. And all of this is just because my body is attacking itself from the inside, can’t protect me on the outside, and gets overwhelmed by stress. I’m young, and I have many goals I want to achieve in life, but on days like this, I just wish I didn’t exist at all.

After half an hour, I finally manage to get into the shower, hoping my meds will start working soon. I decide to leave my tasks for the day aside and just go back to bed until I feel better. I know I’ll beat myself up tomorrow for not getting anything done. For being unproductive and pushing my tasks off. Even though, deep down, I know it’s not my fault. That it’s important to take care of my health and myself on days like this. That my fragile body is part of me, and I have to accept it. That I’ve become who I am today because of my situation. That my illnesses have made me a strong person. That I am strong.

But the only person telling me that is myself. And it’s not always easy to believe it. From others, I hear things like: “But you look so fit,” “You have diabetes? But you’re so slim!” “You have rheumatoid arthritis? But you’re so young!” “Oh, stop complaining. Wait until you get to my age.” “Why are you always so tired? You’re still young and full of energy.” “Another vacation? You hardly work as it is.”

And no matter how much I know these people are wrong, that they’re ignorant and have no right to judge, I internalize these things. So I feel guilty when I call in sick. I feel bad when I have to cancel appointments. I feel incompetent because I can’t handle everyday tasks like a healthy person can. And I’m afraid of being judged. Afraid of being seen as unreliable or lazy. Even though I’m doing my best.

I don’t want pity from others, but what I do wish for is understanding and recognition. For me and for all the other people who are struggling with chronic illnesses. There’s so much more to it than just the illness. It’s a huge mental burden. Especially in a society so focused on performance. We give everything we can, but to keep up, we have to give so much more than a healthy person.

But no one sees that. Because you can’t see it.

October 18, 2024

[coulsons-fullmetal-cellist]

Don't be a Strip Tease

(Dieter x horror loving female)

Words: 923

Summary: Dieter decides to treat you to a little strip tease which leads to unexpected results. It’s another dancing one!

Warnings: swearing, Dieter being an adorable chaotic mess, sore skin, a bit of a history lesson

Check out masterlist here

The bachelorette party, the hen party; that infamous female equivalent of the stag party. Originally, it was just a social gathering of women, usually over tea. Eleanor Roosevelt held a Christmas hens party for cabinet wives in the 1940s. It only became the raucous shindig it is today in 1970s as the sexual revolution happened in the previous decade. Made to be one final parade of freedom before relinquishing a working life for one of domesticity. The most typical parties involve copious amounts of alcohol and debauchery, the first reported male stripper at a party was fined in 1976 for acting in a lewd, obscene, and disgusting manner.

It was for all these reasons that you were avoiding the typical party, and you were telling Dieter as such.

“I think we’re just going to do an escape room or something.”

“So, you’re not going to a strip club? Because I’d be totally fine if you did.”

“There’s no point really. Unless it’s a mixed gender club, Nora and Mei won’t be interested. And I don’t want some strange man I don’t know taking his clothes off in front of me, it’ll be too…ugh!” you shuddered at the thought of it.

“Good point.”

“Would you have your bachelor party at a strip club?”

He wrapped an arm around you, “I’m not having one because I don’t have friends and the only person I like seeing naked it you.”

You leaned into him in sympathy, “You have friends.”

“I have co-workers and people who I see more than once, but they’re not really friends.”

“What about Adrién?”

“Adrién is my assistant, they don’t count.”

“I’m your friend.”

He lovingly cupped your cheek, “Oh, you’re my everything.”

*****

You were summoned into the bedroom after you got back from work one evening. The only information your fiancé disclosed was to sit on the chaise lounge and to await a sensual surprise. The music started as soon as you sat down and Dieter emerged from the bathroom, struck a pose, and sauntered over to you.

“Hey, honey cakes,” he almost purred the words out.

“Hi,” you squeaked out, terrified of what he had planned for tonight.

“I’m wearing your favourite plaid shirt.”

“You are.”

“And since you’re not going to a strip club, I’ll bring the strip club to you,” he was running his hands over the favourite plaid shirt, playing with the buttons.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, too late, one button is already undone. Guess I’ll have to undo the rest.” He then slowly unbuttoned his shirt while swaying his hips. Turning around, he twerked his little butt while taking his shirt off. Twirling the shirt around he twirled himself back around and threw the shirt at you.

It’s a common rule that those who try too hard to be cool or sexy will end up looking more awkward than anything. Dieter was cute enough to just get away with it but you were still tempted to bury your face in the shirt just thrown to you out of sheer embarrassment.

He now put his hands on the waistband of his pants, “You’re going to enjoy this,” he rolled his hips and gave his pants a tug, “Ow,” he gave another tug, “Ow, oh fuck!”

“What’s wrong?”

“I couldn’t find any stripper pants so I cut up a regular pair and taped it to myself.”

“You did not-tell me you didn’t cut up your nice pair?”

“No, it’s just a cheap pair.”

“When you said you taped them to yourself?”

He was looking a little timid, “I did that double sided thing; one side to the pants and one side on me. Now that I think about it, it probably wasn’t the best idea.”

The nod you gave was one of agreement to the chaos that just happened. You proceeded to help him attempt to get out of the mess he literally taped himself into. The best method was to remove the pants from the tape before trying to remove the tape from the skin.

“Dieter, are you wearing a thong?”

“I thought it would be sexy. It’s actually really uncomfortable, there’s no support whatsoever.”

You left him to soak in the tub to loosen the adhesive, which gave you time to change out of your work clothes. The next 45 minutes were spent with Dieter lying face down on the bed while you slowly removed the tape from his legs. He did put his shirt back on so he wouldn’t feel completely exposed in his thong.

“You used a lot of tape.”

“I needed to make sure it would stay in place,” he mumbled from his pillow.

*****

Finally, he was free from the dreaded tape. He changed into his more comfortable boxers and lay back on the bed in a sombre mood. He was sadly looking at a few dollar notes he was holding in his hands.

“Aw, you really went out for the stripper theme,” you put a hand on his. “I really appreciate the gesture, but you really shouldn’t try to be sexy,” you quickly added in, “Because you’re naturally sexy.”

“I am?”

“You just lying there in your boxers and wearing my favourite plaid shirt, it’s very sexy.”

“It is?” he perked up and handed you one of the dollar bills. You took it a placed it in the waistband of his boxers. This made him smile and he gave his hips a little wiggle.

“Yeah, I’m sexy!” but he stopped and took it out, “No, that itches.”

Lovingly tagging @boliv-jenta @simpingcowboy @ellenmunn @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @brilliantopposite187

[tinamaetales]

You’re not sorry

“So you’re apologizing…..Ok, I don’t forgive you……No, I’m not gonna give you closure. You don’t get that. You have to live with the shitty thing you did for the rest of your life. You have to know that it’s never, ever going to be okay……I’m not gonna feel better and I’m not gonna be your prop so you can feel better” - Herb Kazaz, BoJack Horseman Ep. 8 Season 1 “The Telescope”

It has been five years since the last time I stepped foot inside my Psychiatrist's office and now looking back there's a part of me that screams I should have continued my therapy....but the thing is I really cannot afford it. And now, I have become messier than ever. My depression got worse and I'm just trying to survive each day. That's the keyword, trying. I used a lot of distractions though, good and bad. Good distractions are the music of my fave, iKON, and watching Miami Heat games. Bad distractions are spending an awful amount of time watching tiktoks of those who are as mentally ill as I am because instead of going to therapy we just rely on the internet to have some sense of belongingness especially when you feel like no one is really on your side. And I do feel that most of the time......I feel like no one truly understands and no one actually believes that I am struggling badly. I'm mentally unstable despite the fact that I do not have a proper diagnosis about my condition. I just know. Why? Because it's my mind and my body. I can feel it. For fuck's sake, I live with it.

What I noticed in our society is that it is easier to doubt someone who is vocal about their struggles instead of believing them and supporting them. It is easier for our society to gaslight someone into thinking that they are just allowing themselves to be weak instead of understanding them. And when someone decides to end their life, it's either people would finally get it and feel remorseful that they should have seen the signs or they would still say that the generation of today is just not mentally strong enough to handle life. And then there's another scenario, someone will be badly mentally fckd up that they end up being a horrible person then they will treat others horribly too. Hurt people will hurt people and so the cycle never ends.

As I mentioned earlier, I used a lot of distractions as I try to live each day. For someone like me who hates going outside and prefers to be alone, binge watching shows on streaming apps is a form of distraction. I’m not really picky when it comes to movies or series that I watch though, I just want the plot to make sense and not be over the top with so many plot twists and unnecessary “different” endings. One of the series I ended up loving is BoJack Horseman. 

BoJack Horseman is not an easy to watch show. Yes it started as a quirky show about a former lead star of a successful 90s sitcom but as it progressed, it showed the harsh reality of the entertainment industry and how not being held accountable for your fuckery can make you a monster. It's crazy because BoJack as the main character of this show is not likable at all (at least for me). Throughout the show you kinda cheer for him to get better and grow up but then he always ends up disappointing you. However, knowing his history, especially with the kind of family he has, you can't help but feel some empathy for him. I guess that's the thing about main characters, despite the flaws you still want them to become triumphant in the end because somehow you can see a version of yourself with them. But how long can a person tolerate one's behavior? I do not want to label myself as a good person because I know that I am far from that but there is a certain part of me that knows how to forgive especially if they are deserving. However, when someone refuses to be held accountable for their mistakes and refuses to see how toxic they are does it really make me the bad one here if I chose not to forgive?

The show has six seasons and 77 episodes but I did not feel that it was long because the execution of the episodes are great. There are a lot of episodes which make me feel uneasy about how close they hit home. But for this blog post I will be discussing two scenes from two different episodes because these two scenes are about the topics of accountability and forgiveness: The Telescopes from ep 8 of season 1 and It’s You from ep 10 of season 3. 

Have you ever met someone who is too full of himself? A person who obviously has issues in life but does not exert efforts in making himself become better and instead use their difficult past as an excuse for being a shitty person? A person who does not want to be held accountable for their mistakes and people around him tolerated him so he never learns? Well that’s my father. Also, that is who BoJack Horseman is. But if we are going to make this a competition about who is worse then my father is definitely winning this contest, unanimously. While watching the show, I cannot help but see parts of my father in BoJack Horseman especially in episodes “The Telescope” and “It’s You” Both of those episodes have confrontation scenes with a friend of BoJack (Herb in episode 8 season 1 and Todd in episode 10 season 3) who refused to accept his apology and want him to be held accountable for his actions. And I both agree with them.

For context, in the “The Telescopes” episode, Bojack apologized to his friend Herb for betraying him years ago. He chose to protect his career instead of standing with Herb. And he even further that betrayal when he did not contact him for so many years. Now that he learned that Herb has cancer, he decided to visit him and apologized and I like that Herb refused to accept such a self serving apology. The quote above was what Herb told BoJack after he apologized. I like the way he emphasized how BoJack is only apologizing now so he can have closure and to make himself feel better. Because horrible people do that. They will only apologize so that their guilt will not eat them up especially when their apology gets accepted. But the damage has been done, right? Just like what the famous saying states, the ax forgets but the tree remembers. What’s the point of accepting an apology if it does not make you feel better but will only make the jerk feel better coz “yey, finally!” their shitty actions were forgiven. Those kinds of apologies are self-serving. They ended up fighting and then Herb said this line (I really like this one, thank you writers!) “You know what your problem is? You wanna think of yourself as the good guy. Well I know you better than anyone and I can tell you that you’re not. In fact, you’d probably sleep a lot better at night if you just admitted to yourself that you’re a selfish goddamn coward who takes whatever he wants and doesn’t give a shit about who he hurts. That’s you. That’s BoJack Horseman” Now, that’s the kind of wake up call that someone like BoJack deserves to hear. He deserved those words because they are true, he’s a coward. He always blames others or the circumstances to make himself feel better instead of owning up to his mistakes. 

Another episode I mentioned here is the 10th episode from season 3 of the show and here is some context: Todd and BoJack had a confrontation. BoJack was mad that Todd did not want him to become a nominee for the Oscars and then Todd was mad that BoJack slept with Emily (the woman Todd dated). But honestly, I think it was really not the Emily thing that Todd was mad about but rather all the other things BoJack did, like when he sabotaged Todd’s opera, and they all piled up so Todd ended up bursting at that moment. BoJack said “I’m sorry, I screwed up” to which Todd replied with “You can’t keep doing this! You can’t keep doing shitty things and then feel bad about yourself like that makes it okay! You need to be better!” BoJack tried to reason out so Todd followed it up with “You are all the things that are wrong with you. It’s not the alcohol or the drugs or any of the shitty things that happened in your career, or when you were a kid. It’s you” This is another “calling out” that BoJack deserves because he just keeps on doing shitty things and then feels bad about it for himself but does not actually do things to make things right. At some point, as a friend you will just get tired of someone like him. And while there’s an argument about what led to this confrontation with Todd is not something that Todd himself should be mad about, I saw that scene as a way of having Todd as the “representative” of all the other people that BoJack treated badly. In that scene, he was being called out for a lot of things he did not just related specifically to Todd.

So now we start the discussion about my father. Actually every time I typed the words “my father” I felt disgusted. I hate being associated with him. I hate the fact that we share the same DNA. I just hate him. And before the moral police come here and yell “But he is still your father!” please hear me out first. A child will not resent or hate their own parent if the said parent was not horrible. And that’s my main issue. My father was a horrible person to us. Actually an entire year is not enough for me to tell the entire story of how horrible he was and why he’s the reason my mother, my sister and I are all fcked in the head now. He treated us horribly but always gave the reason that he’s older so he knows better. He always used the “parent” card and always used the “I provided you food, I sent you to school….” monologue as a justification to his behavior. He’s the kind of person that should have never become a parent and a husband in the first place. He’s a hurt person and he ended up hurting others too - he hurt us. His decisions in life always end up with the rest of the family suffering the most. He had this mantra that since he had it difficult growing up, his children should also not have it easy in life. The latest shitty thing he did is getting a housing loan that he cannot afford just so he can brag to his mother. And when he experienced a difficult time getting employment, I ended up using my bonuses and even acquired a loan just so we can pay for this house because he promised to pay me back once he gets another contract again (he’s a seaman). But then he never did. He was aware of this. He was aware that employment in his career would wither as he aged but he did not care. He still continued with that loan despite objections from us; hell, that jerk was even mad that we were telling him not to buy a house. And fast forward to today, I have no savings and I have a loan too. You might be wondering where he is? Back in his hometown, chilling. He can even sleep peacefully at night while snoring while me, on the other hand, is more mentally fcked up than ever. As I mentioned earlier, he did a lot of shitty things to us but that housing loan was just the most recent. So the “calling out” scenes from BoJack Horseman were some of my favorites from the show because those are also the things I wanted to tell him. I just wish I had the courage to do so.

My relatives are very much aware of this situation but they always tell me to just forgive him; easy to say when you’re not the one directly affected by his actions. They even have the nerve to give me lectures about how important it is to forgive and it makes me a bad person for treating my father this way. But am I really the wrong one here? He’s not even sorry. For years, he will do shitty things to us. Sometimes he apologizes but sometimes he does not. But in all those scenarios, he’s not sorry. I do not feel any sincerity on his part at all. But why is it that despite the fact that I’m the one who was wronged here, he’s the one who has people on his side while I’m the one being labeled as the bad one? I am conflicted because I cannot forgive. For a long time now, I tried so hard to find it in myself to learn to forgive not just him but also all the other people who wronged me but I really cannot do it. I cannot do it because I’m a tree that remembers every hit of the ax while the ax is living comfortably. Why am I the one who cannot have peace of mind when I’m the victim? I have been struggling with the concept of forgiveness for a long time but those confrontations from BoJack Horseman episodes are somewhat validating because it shows how I’m not the only one who cannot accept apologies. He’s not even genuinely sorry, so why would I extend the olive branch here?

X,

TinaMae

PS, There are a lot of things from BoJack Horseman that I would like to discuss and hopefully I find the time to write about them. The show is good, I highly recommend it!