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#is there really any reason for fucking school
punkshort · 3 days
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i know who you are | 6. the fight
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Chapter Summary: Word of Joel's indiscretion spreads quickly through town, leading to a vicious fight. When Joel begins to worry you may never forgive him, he sets into motion a plan to win you back.
Chapter Warnings: language, angst, pining, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, previous infidelity mentioned, violence (fist fight), blood, bruises, jealousy/possessiveness
WC: 8K
Series Masterlist
The thought of leaving your bed was excruciating.
For nearly three days, you could hardly do much more than use the bathroom and drink some water. When you heard Joel leave for patrol, his footsteps always pausing hesitantly on the other side of your door before begrudgingly going down the steps, you would eventually drag yourself downstairs and force yourself to eat something. Anything. It didn't really matter. You didn't crave anything. Didn't look forward to a single thing except the sweet embrace of sleep. But by the fourth day, you knew you would have to go back to work or else Nick would make a house call to check on you.
You had lied and said you hurt your back so you could get out of working for a few days, but enough time had passed, enough tears were shed, enough pity was wasted when you finally forced yourself to get up one morning and take a shower.
It helped more than you thought it would. The steam billowing around you in the confined space, the warm water pummeling your shoulders, working out the kinks in your muscles from too many hours hunched over in agony. If you had any self-awareness, you might have asked yourself why you had such a powerful reaction to Joel kissing someone else. If you had a clear enough mind, you might have remembered you didn't even react this badly when you woke from your accident only to discover your whole family was dead and the world went to hell.
No, you only seemed to fall into a deep depression over Joel finding comfort from another woman.
And not just any woman. Angie.
It still made your blood boil as you slipped on clean clothes for work. You should have known she was a shark, smelling blood in the water that very first night when she cornered you in the bathroom.
And to make matters worse, he had the audacity to accuse you of not caring. Not giving a shit about him, to be exact.
That fucking asshole.
When you came down the stairs and spotted the coffee maker still on with your favorite mug next to the carafe, you scoffed and kept walking to grab your coat. As much as you wanted some coffee, you were too stubborn to accept Joel's shitty gesture.
The winter sun was blinding against the snow. Or maybe your eyes were just too swollen and dry, too accustomed to staying in the darkness of your bedroom for days on end, but whatever it was caused you to wince and rub your face.
"Hey! You're alive!" you heard Ellie's voice call out from the driveway. She was walking up the path at the exact same time as you with her backpack slung over one shoulder and her winter jacket unzipped.
"Yeah, barely," you replied, wishing you had some of the coffee Joel had left behind. You took the porch steps carefully and met her out on the sidewalk, your pupils finally adjusting to the brightness. "How's it going, kid?"
She opened her mouth to reply but paused, giving you a funny look.
"What's wrong?" you asked, unable to read her expression.
"Nothing, just that nickname... took me by surprise," she laughed with a shake of her head, "you used to call me that before. Haven't heard it in a long time, I guess." You shielded your eyes and shrugged.
"Common nickname, I suppose," you reasoned, and she nodded in agreement.
"How's the back?" she asked with a point, and you almost had to ask her what she was talking about before you remembered your lie.
"Oh! Much better, thanks. Must've pulled a muscle or something, who knows."
"Well, that's good. Listen, I gotta get to school, but do you wanna get dinner later with me and Dina? Seth's making mac and cheese, and it's like, the fucking best, dude," she said excitedly, and you didn't have the heart to say no.
"Yeah, sounds great," you smiled, then gave her a quick wave before heading in the opposite direction towards the infirmary.
It was only a short ten minute walk to work, but the fresh air combined with stretching your muscles for the first time in days really did something to improve your mood. By the time you pushed open the door to the infirmary, you were actually looking forward to working again.
And so was Nick, apparently, because his eyes lit up and his body sagged with relief when he saw you.
"I was a few hours away from sneaking you the good pills and begging you to come back," he joked, then his face turned serious. "Everything alright? What happened?"
"Oh, I'm fine," you said, waving off his concern, "I slipped on some ice and pulled a muscle, it's all good now."
"Well, be careful out there, alright? You're the best aide I have."
"I'm the only aide you have," you corrected him before hanging up your jacket. "What do you need me to do?"
The morning went by fast. Nick had told you in the few days you were out, the clinic wasn't terribly busy, but he unfortunately did fall behind on housekeeping. So you busied yourself running loads of sheets and blankets to the laundry, then sanitizing equipment until Mr. Phillips came in after lunch with a laceration on his arm from working in the stables. It wasn't a bad injury, but it required some cleaning and a few stitches, which you were secretly eager to observe. You wanted to get more exposure to stitching in the hopes of being able to take care of non-emergency injuries by yourself one day.
It felt good to feel useful again. Staying busy forced your mind off Joel and the whole mess waiting for you at home, and you were grateful for the distraction. So much so that you decided to stay a little longer than usual and fold the linens that came back from the laundry. You were killing two birds with one stone: staying busy and avoiding going home in between work and dinner. By now, you knew he'd be back and likely waiting for you, and you still had no idea what you would say.
As the sun began to set and the world outside the infirmary grew darker, you slid your coat back on and locked the door behind you before heading for the dining hall.
Shoving your hands deep into your pockets, you tucked your chin against your chest, feet carrying you swiftly through the streets, eyes cast down and avoiding others as best you could. When you arrived at the dining hall, it was packed, per usual, but you did manage to spot Ellie and Dina holding a small table in the back of the room. As you weaved your way through the crowd, you noticed they were sharing some bread and butter and you felt your stomach rumble. For the first time in days, you felt excited to eat.
"Hey," you said in greeting as you dropped your coat over the back of an empty chair before giving them each a half hug. "Freezing out there."
"Give it a second. It's hotter than hell in here," Dina joked before pushing the basket of bread in your direction. You plopped down into your chair and moaned when you felt the bread was still warm, then tore off little pieces and popped them into your mouth.
"Hungry?" Ellie asked, only partially joking as you nodded vigorously.
"Did you order the mac and cheese yet?"
"Yeah, didn't want him to run out," she replied as she eased back into her chair and turned her head toward Dina. "Do you see Chris and Holly over there? What are they thinking? They know that shit'll get back to Claire. What a bunch of assholes."
"Who?" you asked, your voice muffled around the bread.
"Couple of kids in our class," Dina explained, nodding towards the other side of the hall. You twisted around, your eyes scanning the crowd until you saw a younger couple sitting together, the girl sitting on the guy's lap and toying with his hair. "That's Chris, and he's been dating this girl, Claire, for like, what? Six months or so? And look at him. Letting that hussy crawl all over him. Men are pigs."
You choked on your laughter and took a swig of water. If only they knew.
Ellie's eyes lit up as she looked at something behind you, and you turned around to follow her gaze, spotting Seth as he made his way through the crowd with three plates of mac and cheese. However, just over his left shoulder you happened to notice Joel for the first time since you arrived, but by the looks of it, it was not the first time he noticed you.
He was sitting at his usual table with Tommy and another guy from patrol you vaguely recognized, the other two men engrossed in conversation while Joel pinned you with his stare. You quickly turned away, your cheeks feeling flush, and tried to focus on your dinner.
"Shit, this looks amazing," you said, distracted by the cheesy, piping hot dish set in front of you.
"I'm telling you, man, it's the fucking best," Ellie told you before digging in. You had to stifle a moan when the food hit your tongue for the first time, eternally grateful for the impeccable timing because all you could think about in that moment was how good it tasted, Joel temporarily forgotten for the first time in days.
"Didn't you eat today?" Dina asked, her lips twitching into a grin, and you shook your head.
"Not really. Haven't had much of an appetite this week," you told her, and Ellie tilted her head to the side.
"Your pain was that bad?"
"Huh?" you asked, then it dawned on you once again. The Lie. "Oh, yeah. I mean, I ate a little, I just wanted to sleep, I guess."
"Joel didn't make sure you ate?" she pressed, her eyes flicking over your shoulder. You dropped your fork, scrambling to come up with yet another lie when her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed, making you twist around to see what made her demeanor change so suddenly.
As you expected, she was looking in Joel's direction, but he was no longer looking at your table. It was impossible considering Angie was standing directly in front of him, blocking his view with her body, her hand resting on the back of his chair.
"What is she up to now?" Dina murmured to Ellie, but you could hardly register her words. The way your anger ignited deep within your chest and licked up your throat, it was a miracle you even remembered to breathe. Joel's legs shifted, knees turned away from her, but that was all you could see. You couldn't see the look on his face or hear what was said. You couldn't see where his hands were. But you could see Angie flick her long, straight hair over her shoulder with a flirty laugh that was clearly meant to pull attention onto her.
If you didn't have tunnel vision, you would have noticed she was successful. A few heads turned, men's eyes lingering on her backside while women's eyes darted in your direction, but you were incapable of processing any of it. Ellie was saying your name, but you couldn't hear her over the ringing in your ears.
It was less than a minute. Thirty seconds, tops, and she walked away from him with a sickly grin plastered across her face, her two friends returning her mischievous smile before flanking her side, making their way towards the exit like a swarm of bees.
Without even thinking, you stood up.
"What are you doing?" Ellie asked, but you ignored her. Instead, you pushed your way through the crowd in a trance, shouldering people out of your way without so much as an apology, too laser focused on your target to care.
"Joel!" Ellie called out to him. He was rubbing his face angrily, trying to avoid his brother's eyes glaring at him in disbelief over what he just overheard Angie say when he heard Ellie. Great, she knows, too, he initially thought, but when he looked up and saw Ellie and Dina, panic-stricken, making their way towards the exit, he realized something was happening. He didn't see you until you emerged from the crowd and reached for the door, swinging it open and allowing a cool blast of air into the room before disappearing outside.
"Oh, shit," Joel mumbled, snatching his coat and forcing his way through all the people as quickly as he could. Tommy followed, confused at first, until he realized you were no longer at your table and then it clicked.
By the time you made it outside, you nearly missed where they went, but luck was on your side because her high-pitched giggle danced through the bitter cold air and you twisted your head to the left, just in time to see the three women in the shadow of night round a corner and head down a residential street.
You were nearly running to catch up with them, but you couldn't feel your feet hit the ground or hear the gravel crunching under your boots. And neither did they, because when you found yourself less than ten feet away, they were still giggling and talking animatedly amongst themselves, completely oblivious to your presence.
Skidding to a stop, you shouted, "Hey!"
All three women swirled around in surprise, their eyes wide and their smiles slipping from their faces when they sensed the rage radiating from your body. But even still, Angie tried to play dumb.
"Can we help you?" she asked sarcastically with a dry laugh, but when you took a step forward, she went quiet.
"Yeah," you sneered, fists clenching at your sides, "I had a question for you, actually."
Angie looked perplexed, not expecting that, so she held her hands out to her side, urging you to continue while Ellie and Dina caught up, standing a few paces back.
"Did you run out of dick to suck in this town or are you just that fucking bored you thought you'd give home wrecking a try?"
Dina snickered behind you and Ellie gasped.
"Home wrecking?" she replied, raising her eyebrow and crossing her arms. "Is that what you'd call your man following me into the ladies room at the bar so he could shove his tongue down my throat?"
Your nostrils flared and your ears began to make that buzzing noise again, so you dug your nails into your palms, desperately trying to ground yourself.
"Can I even call him your man?" she taunted, feeling like she got the upper hand. "Are you even together anymore? You clearly don't fuck him if he was looking for it from-"
You couldn't even remember moving. Your feet had a mind of their own as you closed the distance between you with two long strides and swung your arm back with as much force as you could muster, backhanding Angie right across the mouth.
Her hands flew up to her face and her two friends stumbled backwards in surprise, but all you saw was red. Before she could recover, you grabbed her by the coat and threw her down onto the muddy street, knocking the wind out of her with a sharp gasp. Quickly, before she could get up, you straddled her midsection. With your left hand pressing down on her chest and your right balled into a fist near your head, you landed a punch right on her perfect little nose with a sickening crunch, causing a trail of blood to trickle out of her nostrils seconds later. But that didn't stop you. You kept going, your knuckles, now bloody, marring her flesh over and over again, but when you made contact with her jawbone, you flinched, a jolt of pain shooting down your middle finger making you pause.
That was when Angie saw her opportunity.
She vaulted you off her with her hips and she rolled to her side, pinning you to the ground with blood dripping down her face. She scratched desperately at your eyes and mouth, your hands coming up to protect yourself with a yelp, before she began landing weak punches against your cheek and mouth. And even though they weren't as forceful as your hits, her weight pinning you down kept you from reclaiming the upper hand.
Ellie and Dina were shouting your name, but you tuned them out. All you could focus on was Angie, blocking her punches as best you could while you waited for your opportunity to take her down.
Then, Angie's hand wrapped around your throat, her fingers pressing into your windpipe. Your hands grabbed her wrist as you fought for air and violently thrashed underneath her.
"Face it," she hissed, leaning down and putting more pressure against your throat, "If it was that easy, I was doing you a favor. He never really loved you, you were just an easy fuck before your brain got all scrambled."
Her words were exactly what you needed to get your second wind.
With an angry roar, you punched her right in the throat, and although you couldn't get much force behind it, it was enough to make her loosen her grip in surprise. And just as Tommy and Joel were running up the street, you tossed Angie to the side and scrambled back on top of her. But this time, you didn't stop.
You were merciless, your hands were a blur. Fists rained down blows upon her face while she desperately tried to shield herself, but it was no use.
"Stop!" she sobbed, begging, but the fear in her voice just egged you on.
Blood began to stain her yellow hair, her perfect skin began to turn red and purple while your fists never stopped, each blow creating a new mark or cut. You couldn't stop if you tried. Something snapped and you unlocked a part of yourself you didn't know, or didn't remember, existed. Some part of you that was a warrior. A fighter. A survivor. And it wasn't until Joel hooked his arms underneath yours and hauled you back that you finally stopped, your chest heaving and your eyes wild.
"Y-you crazy b-bitch!" Angie sputtered, blood trickling from her nose and mouth as Tommy knelt in front of her.
"You haven't seen crazy!" you screamed as you kicked and struggled to get out of Joel's grip. Tommy reached down to help Angie up and he motioned for her friends to come forward. "Stay the fuck away from us or I'll fucking kill you!" you shouted, "You hear me, you fucking whore? I will fucking kill you!"
"Calm down!" Joel yelled from behind, but your blood boiled as you focused your rage on him.
"Get your fucking hands off me," you snarled, wrenching your arms out of his grasp. "This is your fault!" you continued, pointing your finger in his face and backing away, ignoring the tortured look he gave you. A sick part of you was pleased to see the sting of your words land.
"I think she needs to see Nick," Tommy said as both of Angie's friends struggled to help her up.
"She's lucky she's alive," you snapped as you wiped the back of your hand over your bloody face.
"Holy shit, dude," Ellie murmured as you turned around, her eyes all wide with shock.
"I'm going home," you grumbled, wiping more blood from your cheek as you began the journey back to your house on shaky legs, wondering how on earth you were expected to share a space with Joel after tonight. Dina and Ellie exchanged some quick words as you left before Ellie quickly caught up with you.
"I'll clean you up."
"You don't-"
"I know. But I want to," she said, wrapping her arm around your shoulder, and it took everything in you not to lean into her and let her drag you home.
You were exhausted. Mentally and physically. And you just wanted to go to bed. But you were grateful for Ellie. Someone who cared, someone who saw you were hurting and needed help without having to ask for it. So you let her clean you up in your bathroom when you arrived back home, her nimble fingers delicately pressing against your wounds, cleansing them as best she could before pressing band aids and butterfly bandages against your cuts and then making you an ice pack to help with the swelling.
She tucked you into bed and made you drink some water before sitting down on the edge of your mattress with a sigh.
"I had no idea," she began, and you quickly waved her off.
"I know. It's... I know," you said, at a loss for words.
"You didn't really hurt your back, did you?" she asked, and you slowly shook your head. "That motherfucker," she seethed, "I can't believe him, I'm going to kill him, I swear-"
"Just leave him alone," you told her, "Let me handle it."
The two of you sat quietly for a moment, each of you lost in your own thoughts before she spoke again.
"It wasn't like that before," she began, and at first you weren't following, but then you realized: she was talking about before your accident. "You were crazy about each other. Angie was never an issue. Neither of you paid her any attention. She just saw an opportunity and took advantage," Ellie said as her fingers tangled in her lap. "I shouldn't even be saying this, it feels like I'm defending him, but I swear. I was with you guys all the time. You were in love, man."
"Things changed, I guess," you said sadly, but she shook her head.
"You guys are what inspired me and Dina to go for it," she said softly, avoiding your gaze. "We were scared, but I saw how you two were together and how you made it work and, I don't know," she said, picking at her fingernail, "I guess what I'm trying to say is, I look up to you guys. And it's kind of fucking with my head right now that all this is happening."
"Ellie, no," you said, shifting a bit in bed and reaching out to her. "Don't say that. Don't question what you and Dina have because of me and Joel."
She swallowed and looked at you, her eyes soft and worried.
"Why did he do it?" she asked quietly, and you could hear the pain in her voice. Pressing your lips together, you shrugged.
"It's complicated."
She nodded and looked away. "Will you do me a favor?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"Would you give him a chance? Just hear him out and let him explain?" she begged, and you immediately bristled. "You don't have to forgive him. Just... don't give up yet. Please. He loves you, I know it, and... and I think you love him, too."
You scoffed then cleared your throat, your fingers coming up to press gently on your tender neck. "I don't love him," you croaked, but she shook her head.
"If you don't love him then why do you care so much?" she countered, and you fell silent, unable to give her an answer, eyes drifting aimlessly around the room. "Why did you almost kill Angie for sleeping with him if you didn't love him?"
"Sleeping with - no, Ellie. They didn't have sex. He kissed her," you quickly explained, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"You rearranged her face because he kissed her?" she asked in disbelief, then laughed softly and stood up. "I'm not saying he didn't fuck up, but dude. Come on. You gotta see it, now, right?"
You took a deep breath and rubbed your eyes.
"Alright. For you, I'll... talk to him, or whatever," you grumbled half-heartedly.
"Thank you," she said, her voice sounding more like herself once again before turning to leave and allowing you to rest. If you had any inkling she was trying to manipulate you into forgiving Joel, it was quickly expunged because you awoke an hour later to her arguing with him in the living room when he arrived home, the conversation ending with her storming out of the house and then his weary footsteps slowly climbing up the stairs.
Once again, you watched as he paused outside your room, two narrow shadows cast by his legs breaking up the thin beam of light under your door until he thought better of it and kept walking, his own bedroom door closing softly with a click.
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The pain was worse the next morning, but you refused to admit it. The cuts burned and the bruises throbbed, but you were too stubborn to let any weakness show, although one look at your bruised neck would tell anyone the truth. You forced yourself out of bed, feeling too guilty to bail on Nick after already taking so many days off to wallow in your own misery, and washed up before heading downstairs. Much to your surprise, Joel was sitting at the kitchen table, his big hand cupping a mug of coffee while he stared blankly at the wall, lost in his own thoughts. When you first saw his face, the bags under his eyes evident, even from across the room, it was clear he hardly got any sleep.
Good, you thought. Then you remembered your promise to Ellie and bit back whatever nasty remark you were getting ready to toss his way. Instead, you dragged yourself to the coffee maker, ignoring the mug Joel left out for you and choosing your own, unable to resist the urge to be just a little bit spiteful.
He cleared his throat as you poured your coffee, a warning he was about to speak, and your shoulders tensed.
"How're you feelin'?"
"About as good as I look," you muttered, bringing the coffee to your lips and taking a tiny sip before turning around. He looked up at you, for the first time seeing the extent of your injuries and he jolted forward in his chair, fighting back the instinct to stand up and inspect your wounds. He blinked rapidly, gaze skirting over your face and neck, worry etching his features until you sighed.
"It's not really that bad," you admitted, looking down at your feet.
"Tell Nick t'give you somethin' when you get to work," he said, voice strained. You nodded and took another sip of your coffee. He swallowed nervously before inching forward in his chair and clasping his hands between his knees. "I'm sorry," he said, the words laced with guilt and shame. "I'm so sorry, I fucked up. But you gotta believe me, I didn't go out that night lookin' for her or anyone else. I just wanted to drink and be alone for a little while." He rubbed his palms over his face while you still stared down at the floor, listening.
"I believe you," you finally said after a tense stretch of silence. He dropped his hands and looked up.
"You do?"
"Doesn't mean I forgive you, but I believe you didn't run out of here looking to shove your tongue down someone else's throat."
He grimaced and dropped his chin to his chest.
"D'you think-" he cut himself off and took a deep breath before forcing himself to look at you again. "D'you think you could ever forgive me?"
You closed your eyes and pressed your lips into a thin line.
"I don't know," you said quietly. Your head was pounding, so you rubbed your forehead, his eyes trained on you anxiously from across the room, knee bouncing slightly as he waited to hear you say anything that would give him a glimmer of hope. "You really fucking hurt me, Joel," you said, trying to hide your lower lip as it trembled, but he heard the pain in your voice and it broke his heart.
"I know, I'm an asshole and I don't deserve you. I never did. Not after what happened at the hospital and definitely not now," he said, standing up and taking a few hesitant steps in your direction, stopping when he reached the kitchen island. "But I'll do whatever it takes. I'll wait as long as I need to, I'll spend the rest of my life makin' it up to you, prove to you that-"
"I don't want to lead you on, Joel," you said solemnly, eyes watering. "I can't promise I'll ever move past it. I'm not sure we're strong enough to get through this."
"Yes, we are," he told you adamantly, "I don't want anyone else. I only want you. You ain't leadin' me on because I don't wanna go anywhere else. I don't care what that looks like in the future, I'll take whatever you give me, that's all I want."
You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the wobble in his voice, and looked into the living room, the framed photo of your house that Ellie drew for you several Christmases ago, the same one you read about in your journal, catching your eye, and you felt yourself tear up.
I just want to go home, you thought, but home no longer existed. This was your home, like it or not.
You turned away, looking out the window over the sink blinking back tears, but Joel had already followed your gaze to the photo.
"I should get going," you said, voice thick. You chugged whatever coffee you could and dumped the rest in the sink.
"I'm gonna make it up to you," he said, following you to the door, "I'm gonna make this right." You scoffed.
"Yeah, okay," you mumbled sarcastically, shoving on your boots and coat before swinging open the door and heading out into the frigid winter morning, big flakes of snow slowly swirling and falling from the sky as Joel watched you trudge down the street, hunched over and curled in on yourself. A shell of the person he knew you to be.
He did that. He caused you pain. And it made him sick.
But at least he finally thought of a way he could prove how much you meant to him.
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Sweat covered your forehead by the time you made it to the infirmary, your wool knit cap to blame for the excessive heat pouring from your head while your face was ice cold. You yanked it off your head and shed your coat before making your way to the back, your hair sticking to your forehead. Nick was nowhere to be found, but one of the exam room doors was closed and you heard voices murmuring on the other side. Assuming he had an early patient, you pulled your hair back and got to work. It was supposed to be a quiet day. Nick wanted you to work on an updated inventory list after getting a big batch of supplies two weeks prior from an unexplored hole-in-the-wall pharmacy.
The exam room door swung open, the voices clearer now, and your shoulders stiffened when you recognized the patient. You should have assumed Angie would be there that day, but for some reason it hadn't occurred to you.
Your anger had diffused a bit since the night before, that raw, exposed nerve quelled by time, but that didn't stop you from glaring at her as she passed by the inventory closet. Her swollen eyes widened with fear when she saw you and for the first time, you got a good look at the damage you inflicted. Her nose was clearly broken, she was missing a tooth and both eyes were black and blue, but the cuts on her cheeks and lips were superficial, at best.
She kept walking, not daring to say a word in your direction as your eyes followed her out the door. When she left, Nick turned around with a sigh and crossed his arms.
"How're you feeling?"
You shrugged and turned back to your clipboard. "I'm alright."
"You look like shit," he said, sidling up next to you and plucking the ibuprofen from the shelf. He tapped out two pills and dropped them into your palm before closing the bottle, putting it back where it belonged. "Did you eat?"
With just a shake of your head you popped the pills, swallowing them dry before turning back to your task.
"You gotta eat something with those, it'll tear up your stomach," he said, disappearing down the hallway and coming back a few minutes later with an apple. You grimaced but took it anyway, unable to stop your mind from replaying the memory of peeling apples with Joel just a week prior. Before everything went to hell.
Nick watched you quietly for a moment as you chewed your apple slowly and read down the list of medications on your clipboard.
"Do you, uh," he began, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, "do you need someone to talk to?" You glanced up at him in surprise and he dropped his hand back to his side. "We don't have to talk about it. But I know you still feel like you're a stranger in this town, and that's gotta be tough." He scratched his greying chin as he glanced around the room and you had to fight back the laugh that bubbled up your throat. You couldn't help it.
He noticed the amused look on your face at his discomfort and pretended to be annoyed when he muttered, "just come find me if you wanna talk or whatever," but you knew it was just an act. Nick was typically a quiet man, kept to himself and hardly ever spoke to his patients, let alone you, his employee, about personal matters. The fact he was trying now must mean he really thought you needed it.
The older man disappeared down the hall to his office and you smiled to yourself, then focused back on work, grateful for something that took your mind off your misery, even if it was just for a moment.
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"What the hell do you want?" Tommy scowled when he flung open his door to find his older brother waiting on the other side, hands shoved deep in his pockets, weight shifting foot to foot in an effort to keep warm.
"C'mon, Tommy, I'm gettin' it from all angles, here."
"I don't give a shit," he spat, turning on his heel to retreat back into the house, but left the front door open. Joel took a step inside and quietly shut the door behind him, glancing around the entryway and peering into the living room as he took off his outerwear.
"Maria home?"
"No, she's down at the stables with Violet. Showin' her the horses, gettin' her outta the house," he grumbled, angrily putting away dishes as he spoke. Joel sighed and flattened his palms against the counter.
"I gotta ask for a favor."
Tommy scoffed and shook his head. "You're a piece of work, y'know that?"
"Yeah, I fuckin' know. Jesus Christ, Tommy, I made one goddamn mistake!" Joel yelled, slapping his hand against the cool countertop. Tommy twisted around, brow furrowed, and crossed his arms.
"Don't take an attitude with me," Tommy said through clenched teeth, "I don't give a shit if everyone's gangin' up on you. You deserve it! I thought she was the one you wanted to spend your life with? The one you'd do anythin' for?"
"She is!" Joel exclaimed, raking his fingers through his hair. Tommy's eyes softened while he watched his brother struggle, the enormity of what he did clearly taking its toll.
"Then what the fuck were you thinkin'?" he asked after a few moments, tone pleading. "Everythin' was goin' so well. You guys were havin' a nice time at the party, laughin' and smilin', we all saw it. Then you take 'er home and step out like that?"
"It's not- I was drunk and misread some things," Joel replied, rubbing his eyes with the pads of his fingers. "I tried to kiss her, she shot me down and I didn't take it all that well, alright?" Joel dropped his hand, exasperated, and looked at Tommy once again, taking a deep breath. "Went to the bar to drink and Angie sunk her claws into me. I got the hell outta there and confessed the second I got home but... didn't matter," he said, hanging his head between his shoulders.
"Angie said you followed her into the bathroom, Joel. Don't bullshit me, I was sittin' right there."
"I know, Jesus, it's my fault. I was drinkin' and upset and she was just... there. Pesterin' me and pushin' my buttons. It was only a second, Tommy. Nothin' else happened, y'hear me?" Joel's eyes were wide and desperate as he stared at his little brother across the kitchen.
"It's no excuse, Joel," Tommy said sadly. Joel pushed off the counter with a huff and yanked angrily at his disheveled hair again.
"I know that. I'm just tellin' you how it went down. But I gotta make it up to her. I gotta make it right."
"How the hell do you plan on doin' that? 'Cause from where I'm sittin', only way she could move past it is if I take her back out into the woods so she can hit her head again and forget," Tommy said.
Joel rolled his eyes and slumped into a chair at the kitchen table.
"I got an idea. Don't know if it'll work, but it's all I can think of to prove what she means to me," he said softly, staring down at his fingers twisting together in his lap.
Tommy sized his brother up and down before taking a few steps closer, his hands coming to grip the back of a chair as he leaned forward.
"Let's hear it."
Joel sighed and tilted his chin up. "I need a week off from patrol. I gotta leave Jackson. And I need a horse."
"What?" Tommy asked incredulously. "In the middle of winter? Absolutely not. You'll die out there."
"I survived out there before I came to Jackson, I'll be fine."
"Been a long fuckin' time and you weren't alone when you did it," Tommy argued.
"You offerin' to help?" Joel asked, and Tommy laughed dryly. But Joel continued to stare at him.
"You're serious, aren't you?"
"'Course I am," Joel replied, "she ain't ever gonna forgive me but I gotta do somethin', Tommy. I can't lose her, and right now, it really feels like I'm gonna lose her." Joel's voice cracked and he turned away, looking out the window so Tommy couldn't see the emotion behind his eyes.
Tommy groaned and yanked a chair out to sit down.
"What'dya need me to do?"
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It was a long day on your feet and your face hurt more than you cared to admit, so by the time you arrived home, you decided to make yourself a sandwich and go to bed early, skipping an appearance at the dining hall where you knew half the town would be gawking at you and your wounds, anyway.
Fortunately, Joel was up in his room with the door closed when you quietly snuck upstairs with your sandwich. You were still emotionally exhausted from your brief conversation that morning and you were grateful he wasn't looking to have another one.
Nick had sent you home with one of the good pills, as he called it, so you took it with your meal and within the hour, you were out cold. Maybe if you hadn't taken the pill, you would have been awake to hear Joel's bedroom door squeak open, the rustling of fabric and the tinkling of metal cutting through the quiet hallway as he gripped his sleeping bag in one hand and his backpack stuffed with supplies in the other.
Like he usually did, he paused outside your room, his eyes lingering on the doorknob, ears straining for any sign that you were awake, that maybe you had a change of heart and he could call the whole trip off, but he was only met with silence.
He swallowed and turned towards the stairs, quietly tiptoeing down and packed another bag with food from the pantry before setting all three items by the door. At the last minute, he decided to leave a note, not even certain you would notice or care he was gone, but he knew Tommy would be furious when he found out he lied to him earlier and he really didn't want his brother to waste manpower trying to hunt him down in the wilderness. So he grabbed a pen from a drawer and an old envelope. The tip of his pen hovered over the paper as he struggled with what to say, then finally decided to keep it brief before scribbling his note, leaving it by the coffee maker where he knew you would see it.
Lastly, he strode into the living room and grabbed one more thing, shoving it into his backpack before piling on his layers and heading out the front door, giving the house one last forlorn glance before slipping quietly into the night.
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It was your day off, so naturally you allowed yourself to sleep in a little, hoping that the extra rest would help your bruises to heal. At the very least, you were pleased to discover the pain around your throat was significantly better than the day before.
You didn't hear Joel when you got up, but that was typical. He usually had early morning patrol shifts and was back by the afternoon, but when you came downstairs and saw the coffee wasn't made like it normally was, you froze. Your eyes drifted around, noticing his coat and boots were missing.
Maybe he was running behind and just didn't have time to make coffee.
As unusual as that might be, it was the only logical conclusion until you walked over to the coffee maker and saw an aged envelope sticking out of your favorite mug. You frowned and picked it up, eyes quickly scanning the words once, then three more times before the panic set in, your stomach churning worse and worse each time.
Tell Tommy I'll be back in a week.
He knows why.
No matter what, just know I love you with my whole heart, in this world or the next.
Joel
Boots unlaced and coat unzipped, you raced down the street towards Tommy's house, the envelope gripped tightly in your fist.
What the hell did that mean? Where did he go? What is he doing? And why did he sneak out without telling Tommy?
You banged on the door, the wood rattling violently under your clenched fist, only afterwards realizing you could have been waking their daughter but fortunately when the door opened, you saw Violet and Maria playing in the living room over Tommy's shoulder.
"What's goin' on, sugar? You okay?" he asked, voice filled with concern when he saw the look on your face.
"Joel's gone," you said hurriedly before pushing past him and entering the house, yanking off your hat and exchanging glances with Maria from across the room.
"Gone? What'dya mean, gone?"
"I mean I woke up today and he was gone, Tommy!" you exclaimed, handing him the note. "Where did he go?!"
You were aware your voice was panicky, that your eyes were wide with fear and your breath was fast and shallow, but you didn't care how it looked to them in that moment.
Tommy scanned the note and sighed, rubbing his forehead before urging you to join him in the living room, where he collapsed onto the sofa.
"That idiot," he murmured under his breath, handing you back the envelope.
"Where is he, Tommy?" you tried again, hoping to sound less frantic this time.
He glanced at Maria before meeting your gaze.
"He was here yesterday afternoon. Told me he needed a favor. Said he needed a week off from patrol and a horse."
"To do what?" you pressed, sinking down into an armchair next to the couch.
"He said-" he cut himself off and looked down at the note in your hand, ticking his jaw to the side as if he was contemplating how much to tell you.
"Spit it out," you demanded, and his eyes snapped back up to you.
"Said he had a plan to make things up to you. For, y'know," he waved his hand in the air, not wanting to say it. You shook your head.
"What was his plan?"
"He wouldn't tell me everything but I offered to help," Tommy admitted, glancing guiltily at Maria who shot him a surprised glare. "Said he needed to go to California, that he wanted to bring a piece of you back. I'm guessin' you're from out that way?" Tommy asked, and you nodded slowly. "He said he would wait 'til I talked to Maria and worked out the schedule but I guess he decided to fuck off-"
"Tommy!" Maria scolded sharply, covering Violet's ears, and Tommy cringed.
"Sorry," he said softly before turning back to you. "Guess he decided to lone-wolf it."
Your eyes drifted back to the note in your hand, swallowing the lump in your throat while your mind raced to catch up.
"What if he doesn't make it?" you asked, eyes still glued to the envelope, "what if he dies out there and it's all my fault?"
They heard your voice waver and exchanged sympathetic looks.
"He made a choice, he knew the risks," Maria said, "but he's a capable guy. If there were anybody who could make it out there alone, it's Joel."
"Listen, I'd send a couple guys out there lookin' for him but there's a storm brewin'," Tommy said, rubbing his chin and glancing out the window. "Been watchin' those clouds build up over the mountains all week. Told Joel as much and he agreed to wait but reckon he changed his mind and wanted to get in front of it."
"Or it was his plan all along to leave alone and he just made sure no one would come after him," Maria said, making the three of you fall quiet.
"God, what do I do?" you murmured, burying your face in your hands.
Tommy glanced at Maria and she subtly nodded towards the kitchen. He stood and cleared his throat before reaching his arms out towards his daughter.
"C'mere, let's get you somethin' to eat before naptime," he said, lifting Violet and taking her into the kitchen to give you both some privacy.
"What's going on?" Maria asked softly as she sat down in Tommy's place on the couch. You sighed and dropped your hands to your lap.
"I don't know," you said truthfully, "I'm so fucking angry at him, but..."
Maria pursed her lips knowingly. "But you still care."
You groaned and leaned back into the chair. "Yes."
"It's not like you're telling me or anyone else something we didn't already know," she said, "not after what happened with you and Angie in the middle of the street. I mean, look at you," she pointed to your bruised neck. "No one fights like that for someone they don't love."
"I don't love him," you said sternly, eyes flashing angrily in her direction. "You sound like Ellie."
"Okay, so if two people are telling you-"
"I don't want to talk about it right now," you abruptly stood up, brushing your palms on your jeans. "Sorry to barge in like this. I'm sure he'll be fine. I'm actually looking forward to a week of quiet," you tried to say confidently despite how tight your throat felt as you headed towards the door.
Maria called your name as she trailed after you, urging you to stay and talk, but you just pressed your lips together and shook your head.
"Seriously, I'm fine," you said, forcing a smile across your face. "I have some stuff to do so I'll see you guys at dinner or something."
Before she or Tommy could say anything else, you slipped out the door and rushed down the street, back towards home.
It wasn't until later that afternoon, after you had scrubbed clean the kitchen and bathrooms, doing anything and everything you could to stay busy, that you noticed the missing picture from the wall in the living room.
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Text
Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.6
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5]
Danny slumped over the table at the library. He’d feel embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the rest of the floor’s occupants. Around him, students were speed running through the five stages of grief like it was going out of style.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”
“Same.” Danny replied, rolling his head to look at Tim. “I’m feeling like an academic victim instead of an academic weapon right now.”
“I should have stayed dropped out of school,” Tim grumbled.
Danny gasped theatrically. “And deprive the world of your awe-inspiring genius on…” Danny peered at Tim’s books and grinned. “On… the Krebs cycle? Seriously? They’re teaching that again?”
“I know! This is like, the third time.” Tim whined.
“At least you’ll be good at it, right?”
Tim scoffed. “I’m gonna drop out of college and become a stripper.”
“They do make bank,” Danny nodded. “But aren’t you like a millionaire or something?”
Tim brightened. “Oh, you’re right. I don’t need education! I’m filthy rich!”
Danny whacked Tim on the back of the head, laughing quietly.
“Whatever. Let’s go take a break. Snacks?”
“I literally don’t know how you eat so much.”
“Snacks have a separate stomach pouch. Normal food goes one place, junk food and desserts in another.” Danny retorted, quickly packing up his stuff. In reality, he didn’t need that much food. He’s half dead, after all. But food also converts to ectoplasm in his body, and ancients knows Danny needs all the energy he could get.
They made their way out of the campus library, passing stressed out looking students on their way to a taco truck.
“Does this even count as a snack?” Tim asked, amused. He tugged on his book bag, readjusting the vigilante pins on them.
“Is the sky even blue?” Danny snarked back, forking over the cash needed for the best fucking tacos on this side of Gotham. They sat on the benches, asking for an obscene amount of extra lime and cilantro before going to town.
“Holy shit, how many of those can you eat?”
“Dunno,” Danny mumbled though a mouthful or carne asada and pico de gallo. “Hungry.”
Tim snorted, pulling out his phone to scroll as he ate. A moment later, Tim showed Danny his screen.
“Hey, you live near here, right?”
Danny, cheeks bulging with food, peered at Tim’s phone and nodded.
“Oh, cool! Have you seen the green guy around?”
Danny squinted at Tim, tilting his head as he chewed.
“You know, the glowing green guy that’s been blowing up the Gotham Bay tag.”
Oh. Tim was talking about him, Danny!
Danny nodded. He quickly ate his food and wiped his mouth before replying. “Yeah, why?”
“Does he seriously just clean up the bay? Nothing else?”
Mildly offended for some reason, Danny shrugged. “I mean yeah? He doesn’t seem to pop up near any of the shady spots- oh, I saw him save someone from a mugging in front of my apartment once! But like, I think all he does is clean the bay. Which is good, because holy heck, that place is nastyyy.”
“Seriously?” Tim leaned in, looking super interested. “So he’s friendly?”
Danny raised a brow. “Yeah, he seemed pretty nice, I guess. Though, that’s not saying much considering your Rogues tend to be pretty chill when they’re not in the middle of a scheme.”
Tim snorted. “True that. You talked to him? When? Outside of his bay cleanings, right? I’ve noticed that he only talks to the Bats during those.”
Danny stared at Tim. “Tim… are you… stalking the guy?”
What Danny really wanted to say was: “Tim, are you stalking me?”
“I’m not stalking him!” At Danny’s suspicious glare, belied by his sauce stained mouth, Tim sighed. “Okay, maybe I am. But only some minor stalking!”
“Uh-huh.”
“But if you have, you think you could introduce us? Maybe he’d want to be friends?”
Was Tim asking Danny to introduce him to… Danny himself?
“Uh. Why do you even want to meet him?”
“Danny, he’s a glowing green guy that does community service for funsies. And he knows the Bats. That’s cool.”
“And here I thought you wouldn’t know cool if it smacked you in the face.” Danny teased. Well, whatever. He might as well do something nice for Tim. “Sure. I’ll text you when he pops up and see if he’s okay with meeting you.”
Tim grinned at him, a piece of cilantro stuck in his teeth. “Thanks!”
——
Danny made a duplicate of himself and went ghost. Danny and his duplicate looked at each other and sighed.
“We’ve done stupider things.”
“But we’re still not telling Jazz.”
“Agreed.”
Danny paused. Did he just make a deal with himself? No, he’s busy.
Doppelgänger Danny went invisible and left the apartment by going through a wall. Danny followed in a sedate pace, the normal way.
Outside, he pretended to catch sight of a suddenly visible Phantom. He’d heard the heartbeats outside his apartment ever since he got home all those days ago, and he’s pretty sure the vigilantes were watching his place ever since. Luckily, he made sure there weren’t any bugs or hidden cameras- Sam beat cautiousness into his head a while ago- before starting the plan.
One of those heartbeats sounded like Tim’s which left some… interesting connotations.
Danny sighed. Who was he kidding? Of course he’d be friends with a vigilante.
“Hey, Phantom!” Danny shouted, waving. Phantom floated over.
“Danny. Hi. Did you need something?”
“Oh, not really. My friend wanted to meet you, he’s a huuuuge fan. Think you’ve got time today?” Danny held up his phone.
Phantom hummed. “I can stay for a bit. Thirty minutes.”
“Okay, I’ll call him. His name is Tim, by the way. Thanks for taking the time to meet him!”
“No problem.”
Danny texted Tim, and minutely frowned as he picked up the sound of Tim’s ringtone. Shit, that pretty much confirmed his suspicions. He got a text back from Tim.
Timsy
[5 nin]
Nin
Nin
Nin
Min
Danny huffed an amused breath. “He’ll be here in five minutes.”
“Alright.”
Danny texted back an okay.
Five minutes later, a flushed and disheveled Tim peeled onto the street and right to the curb.
“Here!” He said as he tumbled out of the car.
“Damn, bro. You good?”
“Fine- oh my god, you’re the green guy!” Danny had to hand it to Tim. If he didn’t already figure out he was Red Robin, Danny would’ve believed the act. Holy shit, wait, he called his friend broke. Hah!
“It’s Phantom. Nice to meet you, Tom.”
A quick sliver of sullenness flashed over Tim’s face. “It- it’s Tim.”
“Oh, right. Sorry, human names sound so similar.” Danny leaned back and hid a grin as his doppelgänger messed with his friend.
“Oh, wow, you’re not human? What are you then?”
“Oh my god, Tim, you can’t just ask him what he is!” Danny scolded. These vigilantes were really similar.
“Sorry…” Tim apologized.
“It’s fine. To answer your question, I’m dead. Ghost.”
“Do you really pay taxes?”
Phantom tilted his head. “Yes, of course.” By the, Danny meant that he paid both human taxes and oversaw the Zone’s taxes. “You know that saying, something about never escaping from two things and that’s taxes and death? You can escape death- might come back a little wrong- but taxes are in the afterlife too.”
“Come back a little wrong?” Tim asked, eyes suddenly sharp.
“Come back a little,” Phantom gestured to himself. “Green. More emotive and prone to irritation.”
Tim stared.
——
“Jason, are you a ghost?” Dick, crouched on the top of Danny’s apartment building whispered.
Red Hood, crouched in the same area, stayed silent.
——
“How did you die?”
Phantom snarled and disappeared.
Tim whirled around, looking bewildered. Behind him, Danny struggled to stay calm.
“Where’d he go?”
“He probably didn’t want to hurt you.” Danny sighed.
“What? What did I do?”
“You asked him how he died. That’s like, the ultimate social taboo.”
“I didn’t know that!”
“It’s common sense, dude. Trauma like that has to be shared instead of asked about. Generally.” Danny sighed. “Come on, let’s get off the street and I’ll give you a crash course in manners.”
——
Bruce, upon hearing about the conversation, dove headfirst into researching the after life.
“No, go suck a goat’s genitals, Batsy, I am not helping you adopt a being of the infinite realms!” Constantine hung up on him.
“Hn.” Bruce will adopt the child and give him a home. It’s only a matter of when… and what inter-dimensional loopholes he could find and use in the relevant laws.
Jason was right behind him, because he was going to get answers, dammit.
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luminiamore · 3 days
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hiiii i really liked your suguru hoochie fic and i was wondering if you could do one with ony where she’s like a tomboy and she has a smart mouth and fights a lot but when she gets with ony he makes her chill out when she start to act up.
thank youuuuuu🫶🏾
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best friend ony x black tomboy reader
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warnings: a bit of angst in the beginning? fam issues, reader can throw hands, car sex, angry sex a little, overstimulation, best friends to lovers, a teensy bit of manipulation? if you squint
a/n: hope you enjoyyyyy :33
Second year, first semester. You honestly were starting to get tired of this hell people call college. You were drained, which was weird since you loved what you were there for. Fashion design has been your passion ever since you were a child. It was nothing out of the ordinary for anyone in your family to see you declare that as your major after being admitted to FIT, one of the best fashion schools in New York.
Your parents, comprising a lawyer and the top doctor in the city, fully supported you in pursuing your dreams. They were impressed by your decision to launch your own fashion line, and before you even reached your third year in college, you had already established your own business. 
The outcome was much more successful than anticipated, making your first $100k in less than 2 months. However, there are drawbacks to being raised in a traditional Haitian family. 
‘Tifi pa mete gwo pantalon konsa.’ Girls don’t wear big pants like that.
‘Buy that skirt. Ou bezwen abiye tankou yon dam.’ You need to dress like a lady.
It was a broken fucking record, and you were tired of hearing it. You would call them out on it, never being one to hold your tongue. Your parents scolded you for that, too, telling you that no one likes a lady who always has someone to say. You swear you would pop a blood vessel if you heard another one of their lectures.
Of course, you never wore the skirts or dresses they would waste their money on for you. Your family’s Christmas gifts would be just that now. You couldn’t help but want to hurl when you saw pastel-colored tops, the shortest skirts you’d ever seen, and dresses that made you shiver in discomfort.
They weren’t ugly. You recognized the beauty in them when other people wore them. But putting them on your body made you visibly uncomfortable. You always felt awkward in them, and you realized that while you loved your parents, you couldn’t change how they viewed things. 
So, you moved out. After six months of telling your parents you were leaving. They never believed you. On a warm summer evening, you packed all of your ‘ti gason’ clothes, as they like to call them, and made your way to the high-rise apartment that you paid a deposit on three weeks ago.
You were happy. I mean, you had no reason not to be. Your parents came around to you not being home anymore, your business was doing exceptionally well, and your best friend was taking you out to eat later tonight.
You were happy. 
So, why are you leaving room 109 on the verge of tears after being scolded by your Fashion Management professor for missing yet another assignment?
You were at your limit. You weren’t by any means sensitive, always known for being quick on your feet. Usually, when there is a problem, you are the first to fix it. You were smart, having a high 3.9 GPA, and are even on the principal’s honor roll. That didn’t stop you from getting into a few fights here and there. 
Now, you were by no means were you the type of bitch always looking for a fight. But the girls at your university were bullies, and unfortunately for them, you don’t take no bullshit. Not from your parents, and certainly not from them.
You should be a MMA fighter with how these women are left twitching after you’re done with them. And you probably should’ve been expelled, but you were one of the school’s head designers. It would look bad on their part if they let you go, which is why you’re still here. Utterly drained, hungry, and twisting your personal locker open.
“Yo!” 
You hear a loud shout from behind you. You take a pause from stacking your latest edition of the Vogue magazine, featuring your designs, in the plain navy blue locker. Nah, not me. You really weren’t in the mood today.
“Excuse you, miss. With the big ass pants,” You entirely stop all your movements and take a deep breath in. Not fucking today. 
The outfit you wore was cute, you looked adorable. Standing with a basketball jersey shirt you stumbled upon while thrifting a week ago and oversized jeans. Your new blue Balance 550s were free of scratches and fit perfectly with your mid-calf length socks. Your bohemian braids are tucked into a messy updo, and your vintage jewelry completes your look. You were bad, and no amount of bullying from insecure women could ever make you feel different.
You continue ignoring the person. Your best friend of five years, Ony, told you not to get into any more fights. He said you were too bright for that, that they only wanted a reaction out of you. On any other day, you would’ve taken his concerns into consideration. Today was absolutely not one of those days. Today was one of the days where if someone said the wrong thing, you wouldn’t flinch before knocking their head off their shoulders.
To be honest, he should’ve known better; you always had a short temper. 
Still, the whiny voice pesters you until they got right within your vicinity. “I know you hear me talking to you,” 
Your method of ignoring is futile now; the girl was so close you could smell the cheap Victoria’s Secret perfume she over-sprayed. You were forced to turn to your right and face the culprit, your sharp eyes squinting at the girl.
You notice you’ve never seen her before. She wasn’t drastically shorter than you, maybe an inch or two. Even you knew, though, you could spank her with no problem. She was pretty, but her style was the complete opposite of yours. Her brown skin was well-compensated by the short pleated cream skirt she wore, and the bow-shaped crop top caused you to look twice at her tits.
You would’ve forgotten that she approached you all hostile if she didn’t put her pink glossed lips together to say her following words.
“You fucking with my man?” Didn’t I mention that you have never seen this girl a day in your life? How the fuck were you supposed to know who her man was? You’re stuck in a dilemma, a mind fucking dilemma. 
Should you walk away and be the bigger person, or should you indulge in whatever this was and risk listening to what would be your second lecture of the day from Ony? You shiver at the thought alone. You don’t think you can take another earful. 
“Y’know what? I don’t even think it was right of me to ask,” Thank you. You internally think you wouldn’t feel bad for fucking up someone’s daughter today.
“Yeah, there’s no way Ony would go for someone like you,” 
Silence.
There was an apparent silence among the crowded halls, everyone stopping what they were doing to stare at the two of you. Damn, does no one mind their business?
You weren’t lying earlier. You really didn’t have an issue with people dressing in the opposite way of you. In 2024, you have a fondness for the way humans express themselves through their clothing. What you didn’t like was how girls with the most basic outfits known to man would think they were better than you.
And did this bitch just call Ony her man?
Your anger was rising slowly the more you thought about it, and you were bout ready to strangle this girl. 
“Excuse me?”
Your usual sweet tone sounded almost chilly amid the suffocating tension. Everyone around the school knew who you were; being a fashion designer made the public eye fixated on you. Your fights were a natural source of mass attention. That was what all of your 1 million fans on Instagram liked about you, the fact that you never lost.
She had the audacity to keep talking. “Yeah, I mean, look at you. You should dress more like a-”
It’s a shame, really. You really didn’t want to fight today. Your fist went swinging before your mind even processed what was happening. It was a little uncanny how you didn’t let the girl get any punches; it was simply hit after hit. Were you at 7 now? Or maybe it was 10? You couldn’t tell. 
This wasn’t because she was weak; it took about two solid punches to the face before she fell down. But you were just so heated. That comment made something snap in the deepest crevices of your bone. There was an intense sobbing from underneath you, and in the corner of your cloudy vision, you saw pecks of blood staining your knuckles. 
You didn’t get to finish your assault on the poor girl; in a split second, you felt an arm snatch you up from your stomach. You raise your head from what feels like someone’s shoulder- Why was everything upside down?
You heard a deep mumbling in the midst of the cheers coming from the hallway, something along the lines of “Never fucking listen,”
Ony?
It seems you voiced your thoughts out loud because the 6’3 man responds with a quick, “I don’t wanna hear shit till we get home.” 
Your thoughts were jumbled, and you didn’t have a clear head. You were angry. You were an angry black woman, and you had every right to be one. Ony is your best friend, not your father. So, you were stuck trying to figure out just who the fuck was he talking to?
In a hiss, your voice whispers by his diamond stud earring, “Who the fuck- Are you crazy? Fuck ass nigga, put me down!” you start sending harsh slaps on his back, the fabric of his white tee swaying. But he wasn’t budging; not a single hit swayed him.
Your words must have been a source of tension, causing him to finally put you down. The blood rushing from your body into your head makes your vision hazy, and as you look around, you realize you’re in the school parking lot. Alone. Alone with Ony.
He doesn’t let the thought simmer in your brain, not when you’re more concerned about the fact that he has a tatted hand on your throat and just pushed your body to the nearest concrete wall. 
“Watch that mouth. You should know better, Y/n.” 
His voice is more calm now, though you can hear the underlying irritation. You’re both glaring at each other, your breathing audibly heard amid the empty oversized garage. His grip on your throat is making you feel things, things you shouldn’t be feeling for a best friend. 
You were never intimidated by Ony, and he knew it when you continued glaring and uttered, “Get the fuck off of me,” You try grasping at his arm, but he’s quicker than you. Ony doesn’t hesitate to put your arms above your head, the scent of his YSL cologne filling your senses. 
Is he- Is he closer than before?
“Nah, you’re not getting out of this one.” He pressed into you harder, and it was getting a little difficult to breathe. His body heat somehow mixed in with yours, creating a heated symphony. You knew it was coming, another scolding. At this point, you were starting to think you’re 9 again.
“What did we talk about yesterday, ma?” His voice goes an octave lower, and you’re almost sure he’s doing this purposefully. You roll your eyes, refusing to let him see the effect he was beginning to have on you. You decide you don’t even want to let him hear your voice.
Ony doesn’t hear a peep out of you, and after 10 seconds, he loses his patience, “You deadass? Don’t make me fuck you up, Y/n.” You feel the hand on your throat squeeze tighter twice as if he’s warning you. Damp are the only words to describe what your panties are experiencing right now. 
Still, you keep up your facade. Ony can see right through you, though, you’ve never had someone put you in your place. You’ve never had someone match your energy like he did. It usually never got this bad; Ony never got upset with you after a fight he had to pull you from. A calm talk and a little praise got you to calm your nerves.
This was before you got the fame you have now. Ony thinks, no, he knows, that you’re going to be much bigger than you already are. And he doesn’t want you being held back by some petty fights. He always told you if you ever had a problem, go to him first, and he’ll always handle it. 
But you wanted to be stubborn. You weren’t used to someone taking care of you, relieving some weight off of your shoulders. Being the first-born daughter issued a connection with hyper-independence. And all Ony wants to do is engrave in your pretty little head that he’s got you. And he always will. He genuinely cannot understand why you make it so difficult for him.
“I’m not in the mood, Ony. Let me go-” He cuts you off, coming closer to your soft lips. 
“I don’t care, Y/n. Talk it out right now, or I swear we’re not leaving this parking lot.” He read you like a book; he knew you were trying to run away from him. To dismiss this and to never bring it up again. He was done doing that, and the attitude you’ve been giving him ended today. He’ll fix it for you by whatever means. 
You knew Ony meant his words in the least sexual way possible. Yet, you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering, why does he look so good? The thin gold chain you gave him for his birthday last year makes his brown skin stand out. Through your adrenaline haze, you didn’t even notice what he wearing. 
It’s sinful. How the outfit you know he barely put thought into putting on makes you want to pounce.
A white tee that alone made your breath stutter with the way his abs pressed through. You could make out the outline, damn. Black sweats that sit so low, the white Polo Ralph Lauren briefs he had on were teasing you. 
It wasn’t your first time having these thoughts, but moments with Ony made you think this way often. 
When you guys would smoke together, and Ony would feed you the blunts, his eyes would never leave your lips. When he would come over and cook with you, small brushes behind your hips. You would always brush it aside; that wouldn’t be appropriate for a best friend to think. You were just best friends, right?
You’re questioning everything because of this moment. This isn’t what best friends do. Why is his hand squeezing your throat? Why is he pressing his body flush against you? 
Most importantly, why aren’t you stopping him? Why is this making you so fucking wet? You know, if you told Ony you were uncomfortable, he would back off in a second. But you weren’t. The only thing making you uncomfortable is the slickness you can feel drip down the fat of your soft thighs. 
Your next words leave him stunned, “Well, I guess we’re not leaving then.” 
When your words register in Ony’s brain, he moves quickly. Whispering a stern, “Bet.” With a smile on his handsome face. As if he knows something you don’t. After grabbing you by the throat and letting go of your hands, he swiftly moves to his car, an all-black Scat Pack. 
This was honestly your fault. The position you were in, your back arching perfectly, and your slobbering pussy receiving the deepest back shots from Ony’s long dick. You were scrambling in his back seat. You’ve already came twice due to his fingers, and his precision in piercing your squishy spot would make you cum again. You weren’t even sure you could.
You tried running away from the pleasure, pleading for him in your shaky voice to just “G-give me a b-break! I can’t-” 
It wouldn’t be a punishment if he did, now would it? His hands would only grip the sides of your hips harder at your words; it would probably leave a dent mark. Ony was letting his dick stir up your insides because he needed to teach you a lesson. It seems this is the only way your mouth wouldn’t retort anything to him.
“Not happening, mama. All you needed was some dick, right?” Heavy pants fill the air, and you start seeing smoke fog up his tinted car windows. Ony was honestly losing himself with how tight your pussy was squeezing him. He doesn’t know why the fuck it took him so long to get you like this. It’s all he ever dreams about. 
Making you scream out his name, making you cream all over his dick as he makes you take what he knows nobody could ever give you. Fuck, he swears he’s in love with your fat cunt, with you. “Don’t it feel good when I fuck you like this?” 
The more he kept talking, the more you felt like you were losing your mind. You didn’t know if he wanted an answer. But you were already gone, high off the pleasure his fast pace was giving you. You had no control over your lips when they parted and screamed, “S-so good, Ony! Oh-fuck. It f-feels so-”
He went faster at your words, and your mouth was dripping with drool as your face pressed firmly against his leather seats. After the fifth attempt at pushing him away, he tied your hands behind your back with the durag he wore. You had nowhere to run. You were forced to take Ony’s mean pumps inside your folds.
He pulls you up by your hair, never stopping his assault on your battered pussy when he whispers, “I know, ma. I always make you feel good, yeah?” 
He slithers a hand to your throat and another down to your twitching clit. Rubbing so fast, your squirt was coming out in small streams. Your sinful sobs made his body shake while he was inside you. God, your pussy was so heavenly. So wet and perfect, he never wanted to pull out.
You squirm under him, “So good! Make me- Ouuuu shit- feels so f-fucking good,” Your body was shivering, you didn’t even realize you were coming. Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as your stomach clenched so hard it hurt. Your pussy mirroring around his aching thrusts, you were fucking up his seats. He didn’t mind; he just wanted to make you forget everything that happened today.
You thought it was over; you thought he would stop or, at the very least, slow the fuck down. But he never let up on your poor pussy, he just kept feeding you his strokes, and he kept rubbing your puffy clit. “So, why don’t you fucking listen? Don’t you love me?”
The anger he felt earlier was coming back, and you could feel it with the way his fat dick was penetrating you so good, so deep. The tears falling down your cheeks came down ten times harder, your clit couldn’t take anymore. Why was he fucking you like this?
“I do! I- I love you- so much, Ony! I’ll listen- I swear! P-please just-”
Ony could feel his heavy balls twitching as he fucked up into you, he was going to cum. He knew you loved him, but hearing you say it. Saying those words in such an intimate position, he doesn’t think he can hold back anymore. He just wanted to dump his seed past your lower lips.
“Yeah? You’ll listen, t’me?” You nodded so quickly before your brain even registered his words. He was pushing you past your limit, your pussy being so overstimulated that your next orgasm was just seconds away from wetting his seats even more.
“Y-yes- Fuckkk! I’m coming.” That was his only warning before your pussy sprayed all over, and your sticky cream coated his dick. Ony groaned deeply in your ear, the hand on your throat giving one final squeeze before he came so deep you swear it was touching your womb. 
There was nothing in the air but heavy breathing. Your body, weak and unable to hold itself, fell back against him when Ony let you go. His following words break the silence, 
“I love you too, mama.” You feel your heart squeeze, but he doesn’t stop there. “I’m getting you some food before we get home, and allat’ best friend’ shit is dead, by the way. You’re mine now, okay?” 
He presses a chaste kiss to your wet cheeks as you lay against him. It was a trip. He fucked you all crazy like that but then spoke to you in the most gentle tone possible afterward. You couldn’t process it. You can’t do anything but nod, your mind still barely processing what he just did to your body, to you. 
What were you upset about again?
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foone · 2 days
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Look, as much as I have Complicated Feelings about both homeschooling and public school, it really is fucking damning to how badly run public schools are that I knew multiple families who were homeschooling their families not for any ideological reason like the standard "we want more Jesus in our schooling", but because their kid was Too Spicy for public school.
I knew a bunch of those kids. They were basically just kids with severe ADHD or some kind of emotional regulation issue.
There are ton of those kids. And apparently public school was failing them so badly that their parents decided just taking them out of school entirely and trying to teach them at home was easier and better.
And the ones I knew were families that had the money and/or time to homeschool! Imagine all the kids who had the exact same problems but their parents were too poor or they didn't have a family situation that'd make homeschooling possible.
So instead of a relatively functional but overly religious education, they were getting an education that was just completely failing them. They were learning barely anything and it was an open question if they'd be able to graduate high-school/get their GED. School was primarily acting as a babysitter for them, and not a very good one, given how many of these kids I knew were getting home schooled because they were (or were on the edge of) getting expelled because they fought other kids or vandalized something or whatever.
It's like, we built a system for "all kids" and then just are failing an entire group of kids so badly that many families decided that just doing it themselves would be better. Like, yikes, that is a massive failure on the part of the education system. Homeschooling is a very imperfect solution for that, and it's really sad how many families were having to use it.
Like I'd prefer a better world where public education can just handle that sometimes kids will have ADHD or autism and not fail those kids out so badly that some parents have to do their own school from scratch. Because that's a ridiculous state of things to be "normal".
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bluecollarmcandtf · 2 days
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"Dude, I possessed your professor...
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The hairs on your neck prick up as you notice the glassy look in Dr. Bradley's eyes. It was the trademark sign that your old pal, Jimmy, was back from the dead to haunt you. Obviously, your professor was his next host...
"...holy crap! Look at this idiot! I know he's real booksmart or whatever, but he can't be that clever with a jocked up body like this! I'm gonna strip him down and see what he's hiding under this fancy shirt. I know you wanna see your teacher naked, right?"
You stare at the uncharacteristically goofy grin on your professor's face as he oggles his own body. Back when he was alive, Jimmy was the most immature and gayest guy you'd ever met. It feels so wrong to see him wearing the school's most renowned researcher like a costume! Dr. Bradley would be more mortified by behaving this way than by seeing actual paranormal activity.
"Come on man," your old friend speaks with the doctor's sonorous tone, "If I'm a ghost, I at least wanna enjoy the perks. And when else are you gonna get the chance to screw with this straight tight-ass?"
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You stare at his body as he lounges back on a desk. It creaks under the weight of the man's hefty muscles. God, his bare chest is practically begging for your attention!
"Come on, bro. Screw me in your professor's body," Dr. Bradley -no, Jimmy- flashes a wicked smile.
Before you can decline, Jimmy assertively throws up one of the man's strong hands, "Maybe I can make this easier on you, dude. I'll raise your grade if you spank me a few times to get started. Hell, if you leave his ass red, I'll even send an email to the dean about how you deserve another scholarship!"
It's time to put an end to this, you think. Jimmy's talking about playing around with this man's career, and you really don't want to get him or yourself in any trouble.
"Alright, then a new tactic," Jimmy sneers, employing the lower, more commanding register of Dr. Bradley's voice, "Fuck him up the ass, or I'll change your grade to an F. We can do it right here, on his desk..."
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You stare at your professor's glazed over eyes and his drooling grin. Jimmy wouldn't actually blackmail you, right? This has to be just another one of his careless antics.
"Get up here," Dr. Bradley grins at you, "I want my favorite student to do whatever he wants with my hot-teacher body!"
You shake your head one final time, but you can already feel your defenses breaking down. Exploring your possessed professor is starting to sound more and more like a good idea.
"You know I've been practicing my ghost skills, man?," he continues, "I can jump into these idiots and stay for up to seven days before I need to jump out and stretch my legs again. That means I can be Professor Big-Butt all week!"
"Maybe I'll kick out his wife and kids so you can come over and play house with me. Imagine your professor waking you up ever morning with his mouth on your pole. Imagine him under the dining table slobbering over your feet while you enjoy the dinner he prepared. Dude, imagine hitting a gay bar with this professional stud as your obedient muscle-slut and pimping him out to every guy who walks in. Bro, I'm so down to do whatever you want to see him do!"
You stare at Dr. Bradley in awe, precum soaking into your shorts. Once again, Jimmy's imagination has you drooling with desire. You can't help but squeak out an affirmative response.
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"Hell yeah, man!" the professor's voice is unrecognizable with Jimmy's ecstatic glee.
"Now hop up here and destroy this guy's ass! Don't forget; I know about your kink for degrading guys so I want you to really humiliate me!"
In a daze, you unbuckle your belt and climb up behind your professor. A part of you knows this is wrong, but that part of you is buried somewhere deep beneath your primal lust. If Jimmy wants you to degrade and humiliate him, who were you to say no? Besides, you couldn't let Dr. Bradley -Jimmy- give you an F!
"I knew you were my favorite student for a reason," your ghostly friend says, imitating the doctor's direct and authoritative demeanor, "You're more of a man than I could ever be. I knew it from the first time I saw you in class. We locked eyes, and I just knew; all of my achievements, all of my time spent in the gym, everything I had once been proud of; all meant nothing compared to you."
Hearing the professor's heartfelt manifesto was more than enough to get you into the mood. They might not actually be his words, but they were coming from his mouth, and it was more than enough to get you on Jimmy's side. Ideas for using and abusing your tenured professor were already racing across your mind, and thanks to Jimmy, Dr. Bradley is a willing subject.
This next week is going to be a good one...
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infernumequinomin · 2 days
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"Kipperlily hates Riz because she's got a crush on him," this, "Kipperlily hates Riz because he somehow snubbed her," that... First of all, this boy imprinted instantly in a bully throwing him in a trash can thinking they could be friends, Riz wouldn't just forget someone he met in any sort of positive or negative way for zero reason. If they met, even if she didn't make a huge impression, Riz was SO desperate for companionship in Freshman year I don't think he'd have forgotten or ignored her.
I think a lot of people are forgetting the complexity of Riz's story as a poor kid who is of a "monster race" going to somewhere like Augefort through sheer working really fucking hard on the part of both him and his mom, and that they have explicitly in canon faced adversity both for their financial class and race. One of Riz's driving forces to do really well this year is so he can even GO to college. Sklonda EXPLICITLY lost her pension from YEARS of sleepless nights working as a detective and working her way up through the ranks this year (and I don't think it's something to overlook that Kipperlily's mom works as a county clerk and may have had some say there). I think Kipperlily may just be a graden variety privileged bigot who thinks some "gutter scum goblin shouldn't be in classes with normal people." And that a lot of her work with Jawbone has probably been unpacking these internalized biases.
Like, from the outside, the Bad Kids were ressurected by the principal the very first day of school, throwing the whole school into chaos and got DETENTION for it. Riz not only killed, but ATE the vice principal, after they defeated Kalvaxis! They were all on the verge of failing if they didn't complete their Sophmore year spring break project (it was 70% of their grade or some insane shit!), and while most of them may still have passed, Fig and Kristen DEFINITELY needed that credit and that is mentioned in the season, Adaine is insanely stressed about them completing their quest for "school credit".
If Kipperlily grew up rich and entitled, with all the biases about poor people that can grow (especially if her dad's real estate office owns Strong Arm Apts and she thinks of it as a slum, because it's kind of described as low income public housing lbr here) and saw that some lower class goblin was EATING PEOPLE after defeating them (you know, like a monster does, clearly not taking any time to understand his motivation OR culture), and getting preffered treatment because the principal just happened to LIKE HIM and his party (because they took the time to become closer to him over the years and Augefort clearly values students who will absolutely kick his teeth in bc adventurers are "insane violent psychopaths" citation: the Seven), and breezing through his classes without doing ANY of the work (because she doesn't SEE the work or the sleepless nights or all the stress he's taking on for others) it absolutely tracks for her to grow this huge chip on her shoulder about it and for it to reinforce these biases she may have already had about goblins and esp abt POOR goblins like Riz.
I don't think Riz did anything wrong. I think Kipperlily just has shit to fucking work thru in regards to how she views the kinds of people she doesn't know or has had no opportunity to associate with. Even among her party, they're all rich to middle class for the ones we know the class of. She's 17 and has a bunch of internalized biases, likely from her upper middle class upbringing, and major anger management issues. Idk it just makes sense to me. I met all kinds of girls like her in college who were type A to all shit who resented me for seeming to "have it easy" despite how hard my life should have been coming from a poorer background than them.
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agentfrogs00 · 2 days
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“Listen to me.”
Description: Janis and Regina have an unexpected encounter in the school restroom during a school play performance
Warning: Kissing, Cussing, and I think that’s is it.
————————————————————————————————— Janis was walking through the halls of school, she had promised Damian that she’d watch the school play; His theater-boyfriend was preforming, and Damian wanted her there to watch it with him.
But for some reason, Regina was there too. It’s not like they were on bad terms, they really weren’t on any “terms” at all. Except for the fact Regina had been acting strange around her; always staring.
They were never around each other that much anyways, only when they hung out with Cady together, and even then they didn’t talk.
Regina had been staring at her across the theater; well not really across, she was about four rows back, sitting with the other former ‘Plastics’.
She simply couldn’t take her eyes burning into her back and had to take a break, rushing out of her seat, to Damian’s confusion. Making her way to the restroom. Seeing her made her heart race, it was odd.
Janis pushed open the restroom door, and walked over to the sink, leaning over it and splashing some water on her face. Why is Regina fucking George even here? It wasn’t like her to come to these things.
suddenly, she heard the door creak open, and someone behind her, she turned to see none other than the tall blonde, standing behind her, and she jumped, “Ah! What the fuck ‘Gina?” She yelped.
Regina rolled her eyes, “Calm down,” she said, and looked Janis up and down, before walking over to the other sink, and checked herself in the mirror.
Janis studied the blonde, curiously, “What the hell are you doing here anyways?” She asked, curious, but she couldn’t help the annoyance in her voice. Regina annoyed her, the way she talk and walked, and the way she dressed, the shape of her perfect face and…
No.
“It was Karen’s idea, seeing you is just a bonus,” she said, and turned to her with a smirk, the sarcasm in her voice was… there? right?
“Makes sense,” Janis said, rolling her eyes, and leaning back on the sink.
“Why are you here?” She asked, and took a few steps towards Janis.
“I just am,” she said, and rolled her eyes, “None of your fucking concern anyways.” Regina’s eyes narrowed, and her features hardened at Janis’s response.
“Listen to me,” Regina whispered and leaned down, invading Janis’s space, her gaze lingering on Janis’s lip briefly, which didn’t go unnoticed, “I’m trying to be a nicer person, but you aren’t exactly helping, now are you?”
“I’m not very helpful,” Janis said, keeping her voice dull, but her heart raced.
“Oh?” Regina rose an eyebrow, “I’m sure you could be of service in some way.”
“The fuck are you saying?” Janis asked straightening up, and studying her face.
Regina ran her finger down her jawline, and tilted her head up, smirking down at the shorter girl, “You’re kind of cute, y’know? Even though you act like a hard-ass.”
Janis, stumbled backwards, well more like sideways, her back hitting the nearby bathroom wall, swallowing hard, Regina chuckled with amusement. A sound that sent a shiver down her spine.
Her expression turned more serious, “Look, Janis,” she stepped closer, painfully close, “I’m sorry, I’ve know I’ve said it before but I am.”
Janis nodded, “I know, it’s just…” She trailed off, the way Regina was staring at her awoken something in her, and she swallowed the growing lump in her throat. Regina leaned down, locking eyes with Janis.
Regina kissed her tentatively, and Janis couldn’t help the way she melted into her, kissing back gently. The kiss was chaste, and brief; but god, the fuck just happened?
She pushed Regina away by the shoulders, basically pinned to the wall she now noticed, eyes wide, “Regina, the fuck was that?” A small gasped left her lips, “You aren’t even gay…”
“Mmm, yeah,” Regina laughed, the sound was softer then before, “that’s not very true.” And she grabbed her collar, pulling her even closer somehow, and brought her into another kiss. This one was much different from the first; Her lips were more demanding, and her tongue traced the seams of the lips, Janis parted her lips to allow access. Kissing back with a new-found hunger.
Her hands found Regina’s hair, and Regina’s found her waist and pulled her closer, their tongue dancing with each others.
Eventually they both pulled away. “Well, we have things to talk about.” Janis rasped.
“You think?” Regina snorted, “But we can do that later.”
————————————————————————————————— This is my first fanfic, mean girls, for some reason! I hope you guys enjoy it!
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Not to keep beating dead horses like I so much love to do but I am still completely Flabbergasted and Astonished at how you (Merle Ambrose) could discover the most terrifying fact that a child that is essentially under your care has been indoctrinated into a cult (which, by the way, a process that has taken over the course of years) ((by an agent that has been stationed in a direct position to make it easier to access and manipulate children, that has easily escaped your notice for such a long time)) that worships a nihilistic entity whose ultimate goal is the absolute and total destruction of Everything and Everyone around you, and your one, single, simple-sentenced response to that is to say "Oh, that's a shame. He (Duncan) always was pretty terrible. Hope he gets better someday." And then to move on from those extremely worrying and dangerous bundle of issues permanently without taking any sort of action to protect the vulnerable and make sure nothing like this ever happens again
#i love ambrose as a character but the things he does makes me clench my fists so hard blood circulation gets cut off#the absolute.... lack of care ambrose has for certain things literally render me speechless#and like okay in his uh. in his uh “defense”. there was like. other stuff going on at the time. i get that#like the end of the world for the 7th time yeah there were other things on ambrose's plate#but i dont know how many different ways to put “your children are being manipulated and kidnapped into a cult that means them harm under-#-your nose and it can absolutely happen again“ and make that stick#you... i#that is a horrifying fact to learn and the response is dismissive at BEST#like im not saying ambrose should adopt all 800 children that go to his school or whatever#but like... DO SOMETHING#you have COMPLETE AND UTTER INFLUENCE OVER THE NATIONAL GUARD. DO YOU REMEMBER THAT? USE THAT#send out watch parties! hold stranger danger assemblies! have adults regularly check in with kids! install a curfew! ANY OF THOSE THINGS?#like even if ambrose couldnt single-handedly stop a powerful cult he could at least make an effort.... AN EFFORT#ONE ATTEMPT. TO MAKE SURE ****HIS**** SCHOOL AND STUDENTS ARE SAFE........#and the fact that he says something along the lines of “well duncan was always fucked up” ☹���☹️☹️☹️#this shouldt surprise me fir the man who for 1. some reason refuses to fix the death school#2. does not care about dworgyn or mortis in the least#3. keeps trying to pressure necromancers to change schools#4. kidnapped US from earth and used us.#it really shouldnt but........ but#im gonna say it and idc (/lh) if its unpopular. ambrose should not be in power#he is incompetent at best. he is harmful at worst.#he does NOTHING 99.9% of the time and the one Tuesday where he takes action it makes something worse. he should not be in power#this post is /lh but idk. im a little angry#NOT SERIOUSLY ANGRY BUT CMON MAN. CMON BRO#if the game utilized ambrose's potential more and pointed out how useless/paranoid/rash he can be i would ascend to heaven#i would like literally one person (who isnt a villain) in the game to look at ambrose and say “wow hes kinda fucked up”#THATS THE BARE MINIMUM BUT I WILL ACCEPT THAT I WILL.#kind of unrelated but im kinda mad that the only person to correctly point out how weird ambrose is is morganthe#the murderous tyrant. the person we're not supposed to listen to. because she's evil. she couldnt POSSIBLY be right about Good Guy Ambrose!
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I think Hobie is scarily smart but also not at all books-smart. He can understand really complicated stuff (see: him literally building a dimension watch from scratch) but also his education sucked majorly and he has no idea how everything works/is called "properly".
He knows pretty well what he can do, but he also consistently underestimates just how much that is, compared to most people.
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macroglossus · 3 months
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being evaluated for adhd by having one of those full psych evals that last like two hours. scared frightened etc.... last time i took it i lied extensively bc i was 13 and thought they might tell my mommy if i said i had suicidal thoughts. and i still have a habit of lying to therapists bc i'm embarrassed......... AGH idk. what if i take it and they tell me that the reason im Like This is bc im genuinely just weird and shitty and not bc im mentally ill at all. SCARED
#which is dumb bc i have been formally diagnosed with multiple mental illnesses i dont think they can just take it back right?????#this is so stupid and cliche but what if i have been faking it........ all along........ Argh.#when i was in res i was put on adderall (bc the house psych just kind of experimented w meds LMFAO) and i had to go off them after like#two weeks bc it was affecting my appetite in a way i couldnt afford at the time lmao. but i do genuinely feel like it helped during that#time.... which is why i want to go on it again!!!! but im scared theyll just be like nah and i wont be able to take any of my meds anymore#is that crazy. am i being crazy rn. idk i truly do think most of my experiences w school and like. life could be explained by adhd and#when i was a kid they thought i had it but the two meds they tried didnt work for me so they just. kind of gave up#and i was really extremely unable to do school and graduated hs w an insanely low gpa and then dropped out of community college. LMAO. not#that people w adhd cant be good in school i just couldnt make myself do homework and couldnt listen in class bc i was too busy focusing on#listening. if that makes sense#IDK. idk. i know it's become like. a trend to have adhd is the issue and everything is being attributed to having it so im worried that ive#like. accidentally fallen in w that? even though ive thought i had it for forever and everyone has been like girl do you have this. IDK!!!!#idk. idkkkk im just like. genuinely scared. it's not the end of the world if im not diagnosed obviously but that means that#im just like this for no reason at all. and there's no way of helping it bc it's just the way i am. and i actually am just shitty n lazy.#epic. which incidentally is the proper name for how fucking long these tags are my bad. if you read this far sorry for being insane 👍
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planet4546b · 2 months
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having a deeply bizarre conversation with a friend who hates office work and trying to say then work literally any job not in an office. there’s plenty. and did you know they can be pretty damn rewarding even though you don’t think of them as important and just getting flatly ignored. And which one of us here likes their job?
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rgg reddit's good sometimes, actually
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titan-god-helios · 7 months
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y’all. i fucking cannot. what is wrong with the world. can we just please. stop.
#you can use this for whatever context you want within reason (aka no bigots of any kind fuck you)#but im gonna spill in the tags so#youve been warned#this is a vent#———————————#so im in autistic “burnout” or AUNS atm and therefore my depression is also stronger than before same with anxiety and#all the mental problems#and my sensory issues are also so bad right now#and i find myself forcing myself to speak and sometimes even having complete verbal shutdown#so at the end of the school day today i was on the very verge of a meltdown and i was already in sensory overload#and just generally feeling horrid and dysphoric#i ran out of class when we were dismissed and powerwalked to a stop away from the one i usually go to#so that i wouldnt have to talk to my friends and actually have a meltdown and feel even worse#and i full on thought out what bus i was gonna take so i could have a quiet ride home and hopefully calm down and feel better a bit#GUESS FUCKING WHAT HAPPENED#my friend#got on the same bus.#and i love her i love her so much shes so fun to talk to shes great and i really love talking with her so much#but today#when i had already spent extra energy trying to spare myself from more masking and interaction#those efforts also were put to waste AND i had to spend even more energy talking for at least 40 minutes straight when i had hoped to talk#for none#and with no music to block out other bus sounds#so when she got off the bus i was so close to crying#and then i had to take another bus as well bc i take two to get home#and now im walking home in the rain and my clothes are damp and sticking to my skin and i think im ready to die now#/nsrs#but icl i kind of wish it was#anyway bye#tw suicide
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Society when my mother stops trying to lecture me, who’s on the underweight side of average, about watching what I eat
#if she categorises me as fat then it scares me to think about what she categorises as skinny tbh.#and its gotten to the stage where it just infuriates me rather than being hurtful#bc i know it's not true in any way shape or form#but i remember in high school i got this really nasty norovirus and lost a few pounds#bc i couldn't eat anything except for really light stuff for a few days#and i thought that was a good thing because it meant i lost weight without having to consciously do anything#AND GIRL#NO?????#FUCKING NO#LOSING WEIGHT FROM ILLNESS IS A B A D THING#me in high school: it's fine!! stuff she says doesn't affect me!!#me looking back now: oh. oh wow. holy shit#she told me the other day when i was eating a chocolate bar and i quote#“you're eating too many of those; your stomach is starting to hang out”#IM SORRY WHAT???? IF I FLEX MY ABDOMEN I CAN SEE MY FUCKING RIBS#IN WHAT FUCKING UNIVERSE#please stop talking out of your arse and LISTEN FOR ONCE#and ofc she claims she’s just looking out for my health#but i have checked my bmi multiple times for this exact reason#and it’s healthy but it’s towards on the underweight end of healthy#and if i listen to you it ain’t gonna stay healthy for long let me tell you that#it’s insane it’s like she repeats words without even beginning to consider their meaning#and i’m so glad i can recognise that it’s bs and go on living my life#i spent the better part of my childhood not eating chocolate bc YOU made me paranoid#about even the ones that explicitly said they didn’t contain nuts#give me a fucking break.#she needs to realise that i live here out of choice. no longer out of obligation.#vent
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abysslll · 11 months
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shaking crying throwing up bc i might (keyword MIGHT) get a B in science
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