#Legally Prevent Divorce

[daisymbin]

prenups no escape plans! - choi seungcheol

pairings: fiancé!seungcheol x reader

warnings: mentions of slight overthinking, finances

wc: 1.6k

a/n: forgive me 😭😭 ive been mia for so long because I just got back a week ago as i travelled to singapore & bangkok for the svt concert & bc of that, I bought a new phone so I could have better camera quality but I ended up not being able to login into my tumblr acc 🫠🫠🫠🫠 reqs are closed for now until I get thru all of them!! so sorry guys 😭😭

check out my masterlist! // cheol's m.list

two weeks.

fourteen days.

three hundred and thirty-six hours.

every second that passed brought you closer to the moment you had dreamed of your whole life—walking down the aisle, hand in hand with seungcheol, vowing forever with him. but as the excitement grew, so did the nerves. an entirely new phase of life, a lifetime commitment, a future with no escape plan.

you weren’t scared of marrying seungcheol. no, never. you loved him more than anything. you were just… overthinking. what if things changed? what if marriage wasn’t the fairytale you imagined? what if—

you groaned, flopping back against the couch, phone in hand, the glow of the screen illuminating your furrowed brows. maybe if you read up on it, you’d feel better.

you started with the basics. "how to make marriage work," "best marriage advice," "what to expect after getting married." some articles reassured you, others made you even more anxious. and then, as you scrolled further, your eyes landed on a title that made your stomach drop.

"why every couple should consider a prenuptial agreement"

your fingers hovered over the screen before tapping on it hesitantly.

> a prenuptial agreement, commonly known as a prenup, is a legal contract between two people before they get married. it outlines how assets, finances, and property will be divided in case of a divorce. while many see it as ‘planning for failure,’ a prenup actually provides clarity, protection, and security for both partners, ensuring that each party’s hard-earned money and possessions remain fairly distributed should the marriage end. in cases where one partner has significantly more wealth, a prenup is especially important to prevent financial disputes.

you bit your lip.

you and seungcheol never talked about this. should you have?

he was the one with all the money. you weren’t struggling, but he had worked hard for years, built his career from the ground up, secured a future for himself. you, on the other hand, were just… you. it would definitely be more of a disadvantage for him if things didn’t work out.

your stomach twisted at the thought.

would he want one? had he thought about it and just didn’t know how to bring it up? maybe he was waiting for you to mention it first. would it be selfish of you not to? what if he wanted to protect himself but was too kind to say it?

too lost in your thoughts, you dont hear as seungcheol unlocks the front door.

seungcheol stepped inside, dropping his gym bag onto the table as he toed off his shoes. his black tshirt clung to his skin, damp with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead. usually, the moment he walked in, you’d run to him, throw your arms around his neck, melt into him and demand a kiss. but today, you were too distracted to notice.

he blinked, watching you, a small but loving smile tugging at his lips. you looked cute like that, completely immersed in whatever was on your phone, lips slightly pursed, fingers fidgeting against the edge of your sweater sleeve.

but then, he saw it. the crease between your brows, the way your shoulders were slightly hunched, the way your lips were pressed together just a little too tightly.

his smile faded.

he knew that look.

“what’s wrong?”

your head snapped up, eyes widening slightly as if you just realized he was there. “oh… cheol, you’re home.”

seungcheol narrowed his eyes. you sounded distracted. nervous. sad. scared. all things he saw right through immediately.

he made his way over to you, sitting beside you on the couch, his knee bumping against yours. “what’s wrong, baby?” he asked again, softer this time.

you hesitated. “nothing, i was just reading some article.”

his frown deepened. “what about?”

you looked away, fingers gripping your phone a little tighter.

that was all he needed to see to know you were spiraling.

“come on, baby, talk to me.” he nudged you gently, voice laced with concern.

you inhaled deeply, fingers still fiddling with your sleeve. “prenups.”

he blinked with a pause, “pre-what?”

“prenups,” you repeated, a little louder this time.

seungcheol stared at you, clearly confused. “okay… but like, what about them?”

you swallowed, debating whether to brush it off, but the question had already rooted itself in your mind. you had to ask.

“do you want one?”

his brows furrowed. “what for?”

you chewed on your bottom lip. “just in case… you know.”

his frown deepened. “no, i don’t know. just in case what?”

irritation simmered in his voice, but not the kind that meant he was mad—more like the kind that meant he didn’t understand why you were even thinking about this.

you sighed, exasperation creeping into your tone. “don’t you know what prenups are? or what they’re for?”

“no, i know what they are and what they’re for,” he said, eyes locked onto yours. “i’m asking why you’re asking me if i want one.”

you hesitated.

he raised an eyebrow. “do you really need me to spell it out for you?” you huffed with a pout.

“enlighten me, babe.”

you exhaled, gripping your phone tightly. “one day when we— if we ever get a divorce, it’s not going to be good for you, no? that’s all your hard-earned money we’re talking about, and it’s a lot of it, and—”

seungcheol sighed through his nose, watching you intently as you started spiraling.

“—i mean, you’ve worked so hard for everything you have, and i just don’t want you to ever feel like you lost something because of me. and what if things change? what if we change? people don’t get married expecting to get divorced, but it happens all the time, and i just— i dont want you to hate me for it in the future if you lose a lot of money, i just, i don’t want to be the reason you regret anything, i don't want you to regret marrying me & i don’t want you to feel like you have to choose between protecting yourself and—”

“baby.”

you stopped rambling.

he reached out, cupping your cheek in his large, warm palm, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. his voice was firm but soft, steady in a way that made your racing thoughts slow and quietly drown out in the background.

“what the hell are you talking about?” he murmured. “if we get divorced? when we get a divorce? yeah, that shit is not happening, babe. i’m taking care of you for the rest of our lives.”

your lips parted, but no words came out.

his eyes softened as he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. “do you hear yourself? you’re planning for something that’s never going to happen.”

“but cheol—”

“no.” he shook his head, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. “im marrying you because i want to spend every single day of my life with you. not until things get hard, not until we fight, not until we hit a rough patch. & i mean it. for the rest of our lives.”

you swallowed, feeling your chest tighten with emotion.

he pulled back just enough to look at you properly, tilting his head. “do you want a prenup?”

you blinked, “what? no. i have like maybe 2 cents in my bank account and 0 assets whatsoever, what do i have to lose?”

the way you said it oh so seriously made seungcheol bite back his laugh.

“then why the hell would i want one if you don't?”

"because we're not the same!"

only then, does seungcheol pull you onto his lap, his hands rests firmly on your waist, drawing calming circles against the fabric of your shirt.

his arms stayed locked around you, warm and strong, like he was trying to shield you from your own thoughts. he slowly tugs you closer to him as he pressed a kiss to your temple, then one to your forehead, then your cheek, and then, finally, his lips found yours in a kiss so soft, so unhurried, that it made your heart swell.

“you’re really that worried about this, huh?” he murmured against your lips, voice barely above a whisper.

you sighed, fingers curling into his tshirt. “i don’t know. i just— i don’t ever want to be the reason you regret anything.”

seungcheol exhaled sharply, almost like he was in disbelief as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck, lips brushing against your skin as he spoke.

“baby,” he started, voice muffled against your shoulder, “if i ever regret anything, it’ll be not kissing you enough, not holding you enough, not making sure you know how much i love you every single day.”

your breath hitched. his words, his warmth, the way his hands roamed your back as if to remind himself you were real.

he pulled back just enough to cup your face, thumbs tracing gentle circles against your cheeks. his dark eyes searched yours, serious yet so incredibly tender.

“i don’t care about the money. or the prenup, i don’t care about any of that. i care about you. i care about us. i don’t need a contract to tell me how to protect what’s mine.” he tilted his head, lips ghosting over yours. “so stop worrying about things that will never happen and just let me love you, okay?”

you nodded slowly, heart thudding. “okay.”

seungcheol grinned, a teasing glint in his eyes. “say it properly, baby.”

you let out a small laugh. “okay, cheol.”

satisfied, he kissed you again, deeper this time, holding you like he had no plans of letting go anytime soon.

“good,” he murmured, squeezing your waist before nuzzling his nose against yours. “because you’re stuck with me. forever.”

and with every kiss he left on your skin, every whispered ‘i love you,’ and every way he held you close like you were the most precious thing in the world; he made sure you believed it.

[elwenyere]

Thinking a lot about Brasso this week, for obvious reasons, and one of the things I keep coming back to is what it says about Andor that he is one of the clearest, warmest moral centers of the show. It's remarkable in a kind of sneaky way, I think, because Brasso looks out for his neighbors, but not just in the more conventionally ethical way of caring for the elderly, the sick, and the grieving - or working hard at a job that's at the heart of the community's infrastructure - but also by covering for people, lying for them, interfering with the exercise of authority by sabotaging equipment, preventing arrest, throwing the first brick. At the end of the first arc of season one, he kills a cop to help Cassian escape. At the end of the first arc of season two, Cassian kills the cops but not quite in time to help Brasso escape. That the first reads heroic and the second tragic is, for me, one of the more emotional manifestations of the show's work to divorce what's right from what's legal.

To Brasso: what a mensch of a character.

[multifandomfix]

Clause And Effect — Jethro Gibbs

Summary: You and Gibbs went undercover as a married couple and when the case wraps, you find there’s one final surprise left in store.

Word Count: 1,096

Tags: Fake marriage, angst, fluff

The wedding band on your finger is heavier than it should be, pressing into your skin with the kind of finality you try not to think about. You stand beside Gibbs in front of a small crowd of low level arms dealers and cartel affiliates, grinning through champagne and false affection.

“You may kiss the bride,” the officiant says.

Gibbs turns to you, tilting his head with that small, unreadable smile. It’s a kiss meant for the show, just enough to sell it. His lips brush yours, soft and brief, and your stomach drops anyway. Because this isn’t just another op for you. Hasn’t been since you started falling for him a year ago.

You try to remind yourself it’s pretend. But even playing pretend has its consequences.

You don’t find out until a week later, back at NCIS headquarters, that one of the cartel’s tech guys, some sneering brat with an inferiority complex and a grudge, decided to file the marriage certificate for you. As a final screw you gesture when you arrested his friends, he made sure to sneak it through an obscure Virginia loophole.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” you mutter, gripping the edge of Vance’s desk like it’s going to keep you from snapping.

“I wish I were,” he says, sighing. “Because of Gibbs’ previous divorces, the state’s laws require a cohabitation period of six months before the court will consider dissolving the marriage. It’s a remnant of a post divorce fraud prevention bill.”

Your stomach flips. “So, we’re legally married? For six months.”

Gibbs leans against the wall, arms crossed, face unreadable. “Guess it’s not the strangest thing I’ve done.”

You want to scream. Not at him. At fate. At bureaucracy. At yourself, mostly, for letting yourself love someone who’ll never love you back.

Moving into Gibbs’ house is awkward at first. It smells like sawdust and coffee and far too much like him. You set your overnight bag on the bed in the guest room, forcing a smile when he looks in.

“Settling in?”

“Suppose so.” You hesitate to say the next part. “But shouldn’t I be in your bedroom, you know, in case our caseworker comes to check?”

He doesn’t argue, just nods and walks away. That’s Gibbs for you. Direct. Decisive. Distant.

You take your bag to the master bedroom and start unpacking. You hate how much you love him.

The days blur. You work your cases, file your reports, play house at night. Sometimes he cooks. Sometimes you do. Sometimes you both sit in silence, eating takeout and watching whatever game’s on.

Sometimes, late at night, you hear him moving around in the basement, sanding or carving, shaping something with his hands. You wish you could ask about it, help him even. Wish you had the right to do any of it. But you’re not his wife, not really.

You’re just the woman the law says has to share his roof and his name with for six months.

You try not to let it show. You really do. But it’s hard, loving someone who doesn’t look at you that way. Harder still when he’s so kind in the quiet moments. When he brings you coffee just the way you like it. When he remembers your birthday without being reminded. When he sits a little closer than he needs to on the couch.

It drives you mad. All these almosts. All these little things that make you think maybe—but no. He’s been married three times. Burned three times. He won’t make that mistake again. Especially not with someone on his team. You’re just temporary. Convenient. A walking clause in a law neither of you asked for.

One night, it all comes to a head. You’re sitting at the kitchen table, trying to read through a case file. Gibbs pours you a second glass of wine without asking. You offer him a tired smile. He looks like he wants to say something, but doesn’t.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you say before you can stop yourself.

He pauses. “Do what?”

“This.” You motion between the two of you. “Playing house. Pretending this is normal.”

His brows draw together. “You want to move out?”

“No,” you say, your voice cracking. “Yes. I don’t know. I just—I can’t keep living like this, wanting something I can’t have.”

Silence. You hate it. You hate that you’re always the one who cracks first. The one who cares more.

You rise from the table, heart pounding. “I’ll talk to Vance. Maybe I can stay with Abby for a while—arrange something so I can be here only if I need—”

“You think I don’t want this too?”

His voice is quiet. Rough. It stops you mid step.

You turn slowly, disbelieving. “What?”

He runs a hand through his silver hair. “You think I’ve spent the last few months pretending? That bringing you coffee or learning your favorite show was just out of obligation?”

“I—” You blink, trying to process.

“You’re not one of my ex wives,” he says, voice lower now. “You’re not Shannon. Or Diane. Or Rebecca. You’re you. And I didn’t want to screw it up.”

Your heart’s pounding now, louder than ever.

“So you thought…waiting would protect us,” you ask.

He nods once. “Didn’t want to make a move unless I knew you felt the same.”

You laugh, startled and soft. “Jethro, I’ve been in love with you for over a year.”

He closes the distance in three strides, pulling you in with a gentleness that nearly shatters you. His hands settle on your hips like they’ve always belonged there.

His mouth finds yours, no longer tentative. Not for show. This time it’s real, and it tells you everything he hasn’t said until now.

Later, curled into his side in bed you whisper, “What happens when the six months are up?”

He’s quiet for a moment, then brushes his thumb over your hand.

“Well, that depends,” he says. “You planning on sticking around?”

You look up at him, hope blooming warm and wild in your chest. “That depends. You planning on making this marriage real?”

His smile is slow and rare, and it makes you feel like the only woman on Earth.

“Already has been,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Besides, it’s save a lot of paperwork.”

You laughed but swatted lightly at his chest. It was true, it would save you a lot of hassle, but you didn’t care about any of that. This, right here, right now, was the thing that truly counted.

For @lemmons1998

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-ivy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @trexsuit, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @malfoyfeed, @aliciabrower, @sparrowspixie, @imaginationismyworldlypleasure, @og-kxsh-420

Jethro Gibbs: @esposamultifandom, @cheekygirl2309, @iciclesandsnow, @floresferae, @melliemat3416, @abitchnamedtia, @k-slater, @marit332

[arttrashking]

in the heaven emperors au, if they did end up splitting up (I'd imagine given Wukong's rank it'd be more separation the full on legal divorce), would Wukong ever reach a point in is grief that he'd say "fuck it" and hand over his position to Azure and go back home to be with Macaque? would Macaque take him back? if so, would it be immediantly or would he make Wukong grovel and make him re-court him in order to "earn back his love?

love your au!!!! <3

Since asks like this are why I’m now officially gonna include a divorce arc with this au-

I adore this question bc of how much it is something I’d ask myself to be sure it’s a direction I want.

Wukong does NOT want a divorce and would do anything and everything to prevent an officially legal and cultural divorce from occurring. He doesn’t want either to be recognized as divorced in eyes of law nor demon customs.

Which is where Macaque’s stubbornness and intellect would hit him because he’d settle for a separation then, and Wukong can’t stop him from leaving him in the heavenly realm to be separated knowing Wukong has to be there to keep things running as emperor.

I do think he’d eventually reach a point where he truly can’t stand being without Macaque after some time since I DO give him reasons why he’s been so against giving up the throne that aren’t just his pride or any of that- yes part of it is he doesn’t want all the fighting he did for this to be for nothing- but he’s also very aware the brotherhood would likely blame Macaque if he stepped down and be angry with him for ‘manipulating’ Wukong into giving up such a powerful position. He at this point has started to notice how unwelcome he is to the brotherhood and he doesn’t want Macaque blamed for something Wukong would absolutely selfishly choose if it means keeping Macaque in his life-

Another reason is he’s not willing to trust Azure anymore now that he’s noticed more things- he’s noticed how Azure’s kindness is off to him (think like in villainess manwhas when the rival acts sweet and innocent but you can tell she’s pretending to be that to manipulate her image) and with a separation from Macaque he’s now very aware how Azure is closing in trying to see if Wukong is willing to have another spouse now- so he absolutely DOES NOT trust the lion anymore and even kinda starting to resent Azure since this was his plan and all.

Skipping past the mounts of drama imma sprinkle in when I have the motivation- it would take a long time of Macaque testing, toying, and trying to have Wukong prove himself again and that he’d never pull something like that again as well as opening up to him more than he’s ever done after he’s reflected some of his own faults in their relationship. I don’t plan to have Mac completely innocent, where’s the fun in that?

[awkness]

Serial killer! Platonic! Yandere Older Brother & Genderneutral Teenage Reader (Part 2)

(Part 1) (Part 3)

As reader tries to adjust to their new life without their father, a number of concerning incidents occur, including off-putting behavior from your brother, prevents that from happening. But despite everything, you make a new friend. Surely, this can only mean good things for you, right? Things must be looking up!

Content warnings: implied murder, manipulation, domestic abuse, briefly mentioned alcoholism and child abuse, and general yandere shenanigans. If I missed anything here, please let me know :3

Authors note: lmao I have no excuse for being this late I'm just slow. This was originally supposed to be the last chapter but it got too long so I had to split it up. It feels like a bit of filler but I promise we'll get to the good stuff soon it just needs some set up. Part 3 should be the last part so I'll try not to be too slow uploading (<- lying)

There were very few things about your father you liked, but his house was one of them. It was something he had inherited from his father, who Ben would inherit as soon your father could be pronounced legally dead. It came with a master bedroom, two normal bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room, a kitchen, the basement, and an attic.

The attic was something you had always been fascinated with as a child. It was spacious, fully insulated and even had an openable window. It could have been a bedroom all on its own. As a child, you had often daydreamed of moving your stuff up there, utilizing the bigger space for blanket forts and storing all the toys your little heart could desire. In reality, it was used in the same way the basement was, except it stored much more valuable items. Holiday decorations, clothes, old valuables that had no room to be displayed, and whatever family heirlooms your late father kept were shoved up above your head, taking space that could have been used for you. You had thought you had grown out of this fantasy, content with the room you had, but with your father gone and your brother running the house, the childhood dream had crept its way back into the front of your mind, tempting you with visions of a bigger, cooler room.

So, after working up the courage, you finally asked Ben if you could move up there. It surprised you just how easily he said yes.

And now you're here, Ben helping you sort through trash and treasure alike as you both clear out the room.

You pulled an unlabeled box from the seemingly endless pile, the top covered in dust and cobwebs. You try not to think about how many spiders are in the room with you now. Cleaning them out will be a trouble for another day.

The box opens easily, cardboard weak from age, a musty smell emanating from within. You look inside, only to be left dumbfounded. Why were there women's clothes in here?

"Hey, Ben, do you know whose clothes these are?"

Ben looks up from his own box, a vaguely confused look on his face. As he makes his way towards your box, you watch it drop into a frown.

"Those are moms."

"Oh." Is all you can say.

An awkward moment passes between you two as Ben stares into the box, face strange as he becomes lost in thought. You decide to break the tension.

"Why do you think he kept them?"

He looks away from the box and towards you, his body slowly beginning to relax.

"He was always a sentimental man, I guess that's reason enough for him."

You let out a snort. "What's there to be sentimental over? She cheated on him, divorced him, and then dumped us on him. She's not exactly a woman worth pining over."

"I'm not arguing with you, but you remember how he was. Couldn't ever let anything go."

He began rummaging through it, quickly getting to the bottom before closing it back up.

"Nothing but clothes. We should probably donate this."

You give a nod as you watch him put it in the growing donation pile. That was going to be such a pain to bring down to the car.

Instead of thinking about that, though, you turn your head to the box that Ben was searching through before you called him over.

"Is this one mom's too?"

Before you get an answer, you take a peek inside, only to once again be at a loss for how something like this could be in your home.

Inside was an assortment of strange objects. A broken polaroid camera, a stained photo album, and an array of metal objects like locks, deadbolts, and... were those shackles?

Before you could make out any more objects, Ben had made his way to you and reached over to close the flaps of the box.

"I doubt it, probably just more junk he couldn't throw away."

He turned around to you and smiled, hands holding the flaps shut.

"Want to do me a favor and go start bringing the donation boxes to the car?"

"Ugh, why do I have to bring them down?"

"Because you're the one who wanted to move up here."

You glared at him as his smile turned into an amused smirk, before you finally gave a huff and picked up a box from the pile.

"Jerk."

"Brat." The smile never left his face.

With only moderate trouble, you navigated your way down the stairs and out the door, making your way to the car. Unfortunately, you had only realized you forgot the keys when you tried to open the door to pop the trunk open.

You quietly mumble curses under your breath as you set the box next to the car, ready to make the trip back inside. Instead, you go completely still as you catch a look at the people across the street.

It was a small group of high schoolers your age, maybe older, who go to your school. They were standing the the yard across the street, a few houses down, talking together to throwing glances in your direction. Your ears strain as they try to make out their incoherent babble. They couldn't have known about your situation, could they? Or at least, what the official story was. It had been over a month since that happened, it doesn't make sense that they would be talking about it now. But you were just moving boxes out of the house such a short time after it happened. That looks suspicious, doesn't it? Of course it does. Why did you have to ask to move into the attic now?

You had been standing like a deer in headlights, openly staring for what felt like minutes before one of them seemingly made eye contact with you. You avert your gaze down as you feel your cheeks grow hot and your hands grow sweaty. A chorus of laughter erupts from the group.

Without thinking, you rush up to the door, fling it open, and slam directly into Ben as he was carrying. You hear it hit the floor as you speed walk past him.

"Wha- Hey! (Y/N)! What happened?"

You didn't reply. You barely even heard his words. Panic had fully taken over and kept you moving away from Ben, away from the door, away from the outside world, and all the judgemental people it contained.

You finally make it to your room, shutting the door behind you, and seating yourself on your bed, trying to get your bearings. 

Tears begin stinging your eyes as your shaky hands try and wipe them away. You wonder if they were still laughing at you.

A soft knock comes from your door, and your body shrinks inward, unprepared for the upcoming talk.

"Kid? Can I come in?"

You don't reply. You know Ben is going to come in anyway.

He waits a beat before opening the door, his face the picture of concern. His footsteps are quiet, and his movements gentle as he sits next to you. You find your body leaning away from him.

"Want to tell me what happened?"

You shrug, turning your head away from him. Even if you did want to talk, you couldn't trust your voice right now.

"Alright, that's fine, we can figure it out together. Was it something to do with mom's clothes?"

You don't move. Maybe if you don't answer, he'll leave and let you deal with your embarrassment in peace.

"The attic?"

A pause.

"Something in the box you were carrying...? Or maybe something outside?"

You stiffen, and immediately try to make yourself relax. Maybe he didn't notice?

"Does this have something to do with the neighbors?"

Oh. Nevermind.

Despite your best efforts, your body language must have given you away again. You hear the bed creak as he gets up, the blinds rustling a moment later as he gives a huff.

"It's those kids across the street, isn't it?" His voice takes on an edge of irritation, and you feel yourself curl inwards again.

The bed shifts as he takes his seat next to you again, a comforting hand placed on your shoulder. His voice takes on the softer quality it had before.

"I can't help you if you don't help me, kid. Did they talk to you?"

You shake your head, trying to talk, but finding the words stuck in your throat.

"They-" Your voice falters and you clear your throat, barely able to speak above a whisper.

"They didn't have to. I could see them looking at me and laughing, I knew they were talking about me, just like all the neighbors do whenever they see us. It's like they know. And these-"

You sniff, snot beginning to run and throat burning as you talk. Ben squeezes your shoulder, and you continue.

"These people go to my school, Ben. They know me. When I have to go back, they'll talk and tell everyone and the whole school will know what happened. They'll treat me different, they'll ask questions, and I won't know what to tell them-"

Your quivering voice finally gives out, and you cover your face. Ragged, irregular breaths come out as you try to force back the wave of emotions you've just unleashed. Gently, Ben pulls you to his chest as he rubs your back, murmuring gentle reassurances you couldn't quite hear.

Moments pass until your breathing finally evens out, eyes dry but still red and puffy. You slowly pull back and he lets you, his face full of worry. His hand still remains on your shoulder, an ever-present weight.

"You've had this on your mind for a long time, haven't you?"

You give a feeble nod. The thought of having to return to school had been weighing on you, but you hadn't realized how bad it had been until now. The thought is almost enough to send you spiraling again.

"I don't want to go back."

Ben gives you a smile. "You don't have to."

Your mind freezes for an instant, any and all thought muddled into incohereency.

"What?"

"Why don't I sign you up for online school this year? I remember you talking about wanting to do it a couple of months back, so why not now?"

"I..."

Your brows furrow. You did tell Ben that you wanted to do online school a couple of months ago before summer started. But this wasn't a new wish. You had been dreaming of being homeschooled since you had dreamed of living in the attic. Troubles in finding friends and fitting in had always followed you throughout the years until you realized the futility of it all, and only dreamt of a home where you didn't have to leave, and Ben and you could spend your days in peace. But the reality of your father's abuse had made school a begrudgingly safe haven of yours and you had slowly given up on that dream, too. But now that it was fully within your hands, you found yourself hesitating. Why? There was no monster in your home anymore, you were safe, and there's no reason to say no.

"I don't know."

He smiled.

"It wouldn't have to be permanent, just for this year. And if you don't like it, I can reenroll you back into your old school, so your options are always open. Plus, you're right, (Y/N). I know how cruel kids can be, especially when they're confronted with situations and people they don't understand. I don't want you to face that if you don't have to."

You gnaw on your lip, unsure of what to say. Ben was right on all accounts, the things he was saying made sense, and yet you couldn't find yourself saying yes. Why couldn't you let yourself have this?

"Can I think on it?"

Ironically, it came out of your mouth before you could think at all.

He nodded, his good-humored smile still on his face. You let out a small breath, so glad to still see it there.

"Of course, kid, it's a big decision. Take your time."

He gave your shoulder one last pat before getting up.

"I'm going to move the rest of the boxes in the car and go drop them off. You want me to pick up dinner on the way back?"

"Yeah, I'm fine with whatever."

"Alright. Rest up, I'll be back soon."

Unable to say much else, you nod as he gives you one last smile before he heads out the door, closing it behind him.

You rub your eyes, your body slowly unwinding from the tension just moments prior, until it gives in and you lay down on your bed.

With nothing else left to do, you crawl under your covers, the familiar comfort of the soft and worn fabric soothing your nerves. Distantly, you hear the sound of Ben's footsteps as he makes his way back and forth from the attic, the familiar and comforting sound lulling you into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning was pretty uneventful. Ben was off at work while you continued clearing the attic, sorting out the junk and keepsakes, only occasionally getting scared by the stray spiders that had made their home in the crevices between the boxes.

By noon, everything was sorted, with the only thing left being to take the boxes to be donated or tossed in the trash. But you needed Ben to help you with that, so you found yourself heading down to the kitchen, heating instant noodles in the microbe, wondering what you were going to do until he got home.

Around this time is when you usually went to go check the mail, but since yesterday, the thought of having to leave the house left you with an uneasy feeling, tension building in your spine and shoulders the longer you thought of it. A part of you was ashamed that you couldn't even walk out to the mailbox without it being a big deal, and another, much larger part, found immense relief in the thought of abandoning the task altogether, and not having any more chance encounters like yesterday. The more you considered it, the more you found your body sagging in relief. Yeah, Ben can grab it when he gets home, you're sure he wouldn't mind. It's no big deal.

The microwave beeps and you grab the noodles, all thought of the outside quickly leaving your head.

You had just dumped the flavor packet in when you heard a knock at the door.

Your heart, ashamed you were to admit, skipped a beat, and you froze mid-action, breath catching roughly in your throat. Who could that be? Maybe that was Ben, and he had just forgot his keys? No, that's stupid, he wouldn't be home this early, and he never forgets his keys. With no other answers coming to mind, you quietly set the packet down and got up to the door to peek through the peephole.

On the other side of the door stood one of your neighbors, a kid your age. You see him the most often out of all of your neighbors, often doing yard work and tending to the flowers in his front yard. He was also the guy you caught staring at you the most. Well, maybe staring wasn't completely accurate, but whenever you looked his way, you two would usually make eye contact before one of you shyly looked away. You didn't know why, and it played havoc on your nerves. He wore a hoodie despite the summer heat and had an envelope in his hand. He looked nervous.

You pull away and bring your hand to undo the locks before stopping.

For one glorious, tempting moment, you picture yourself turning around, going back to your noodles, and taking them upstairs and away from the door to eat in peace until Ben comes home.

Instead, you undo the locks and open the door.

Your neighbor looks slightly taken aback like he didn't expect anyone to answer. You try not to notice.

"Hello?" You ask.

"Oh, uh, hi! I'm Alex, your neighbor. I live right next to you, the house to the right, well- uh, my right, your left. The one with the red car and lawn gnomes out front?"

He gestures sheepishly towards his house, face nearing the complexion of a tomato.

"Nice to meet you, Alex. I'm (Y/N)."

The social protocols of politeness take over, unable to fully pay attention as your mind stalls, still in a state of shock from the anxiety of the situation.

"(Y/N)? That's a nice name." He smiles at you before quickly looking at the ground.

He hands the envelope over to you, speaking as you look over it.

"Uh, I just wanted to drop this off. I think our mail got mixed up."

Sure enough, the envelope had your brother's name and address on it.

"Oh, thank you." You say lamely.

For a beat, you wonder if you should say something more. It felt wrong to just leave the conversation as it was and close the door, but what else were you supposed to say? Before you can think about it, he speaks again.

"I, uh, wanted to say that I heard about what happened to your dad, and I'm sorry."

Again, your heartbeat skips, and you stiffen, body alert, eyes wide. You probably look like a deer caught in headlights in front of him if he wasn't still looking at the ground. The thought would embarrass you if it weren't for the sharp spike of adrenaline hitting your veins.

"I... I had a dad like him too."

And just like that, your body pauses its panic response, and you find yourself fully focused on him as he continues.

"I thought it would be easier after me and my mom moved away, and it has been, but those kinds of experiences don't just go away, and I wanted to say that you aren't alone."

You still felt a little wired from the previous scares, you you felt a strange sense of ease slowly pass through you at his words.

You stare at him, as he stares down, no words passing between you two before you finally speak.

"Thank you."

You only hesitate for a moment before continuing.

"It has been rough, but it's been more of a relief than anything. It's nice not having to hide away in my room until he leaves."

He looks up, a small smile gracing his face as he finally relaxes.

"Yeah, it's nice not having to check to see if he passed out in the house again."

You find your lips quirking up. "Or having to check his pulse when he is passed out."

"Not having to worry about him throwing a fit whenever he runs out of beer despite him being the one who drank it all."

"Not having to constantly hide food in your room so you have a supply when he does throw his tantrums"

Alex gave a disbelieving laugh.

"Yours let you get food out of the kitchen? There was a lock on the fridge and pantry when I lived with mine."

Your smile widened into one of disbelief, amusement, and shock. "What the hell? Why?"

"Kept getting upset that the food would go missing. Worst part is, every time he got blackout drunk, he'd binge eat, pass out and get mad at us for eating all the food."

You couldn't help it. You started giggling, and he started giggling, unable to react in any other way to the absurdity of it all.

"Sorry! I really shouldn't laugh-" You began, failing to stifle the laughter.

"Don't be!" He said. "He's a stupid guy, you should laugh at him."

You both share the moment, the laughter slowly dying down as you both take your first good look at each other. In this moment, you see something you can't help but talk about.

"Is that a minecraft necklace?"

He looks surprised, but pleasantly so. He glances down before holding it up with a grin. The pendant was the shape of a creeper head.

"Yeah, I'm a big fan!"

He puts it back down and his demeanor changes back to being sheepish, but not painfully so like he was before.

"I have minecraft for Xbox and a spare controller at my house. If you want, you can come over and play?"

It was your turn to be nervous again.

On one hand, you wanted to say 'absolutely'. You couldn't remember the last time you got invited to hang out, and the thought of something as normal as playing a video game with a friend was something you needed. Well, maybe you couldn't call him a friend yet, but you feel like you could, given enough time. Plus, after being so afraid of your neighbors and leaving your house, having someone come up to you and act so warm and friendly made you feel soft. It was hard to say no to that.

On the other hand, you had the nagging, unnameable feeling that Ben would be, upset, but you couldn't think up any concrete reason as to why. In fact, if you focused on that feeling too long, your mind went blank.

Sure, you were going about out of the house without him knowing, but Ben has always been supportive of you. Sure, he's never really discussed rules about going over to a friend's house because the situations never come up, but he's fairly easygoing. You were sure that if you explained why you went, he would be understanding. Happy, even.

Plus, you were only going next door, you had your phone on you, and you would be back before Ben came home, so it's not like he had to even know what happened. Not that you wanted to lie to him, but something about that option comforted you more than any of the other things you listed.

Discomfort pushed aside, you gave a smile back to Alex.

"Sure thing, let me grab my phone."

It could have been the perfect hangout. Alex's mom was nice, bringing you two snacks and telling stories from Alex's childhood despite his embarrassment, as you two hung out in the living room while he helped you figure out the controls. Soon enough, you two were building a base together, laughing at each other as a creeper or sneaky skeleton would get kills on you both.

You were halfway through making the third story of the base when your phone started ringing. You felt your heart drop to your stomach when you saw Ben's picture on the screen.

"Shit."

You immediately pocketed in and got up.

"What's wrong?" He paused the game and looked up.

"I wasn't supposed to stay so late, my brother's probably home by now."

You went over to the window and peeked through the blinds, and as fate would have it, you saw his car in the driveway.

You hear Alex speak from the couch, voice slightly concerned.

"You're not going to get in trouble, are you?"

That was the question, wasn't it?

"I... don't think so. Maybe? I've never been out late before."

"If you want, I can come with you and explain what happened. I'll take the blame."

Despite your growing worry, you felt a pang of gratitude come through. You gave a small smile.

"That's okay, he'll probably be a little mad, but I don't think it's that serious."

You headed to the door, Alex following behind.

"Hey, on the chance you don't get grounded or whatever, here's my phone number."

You look back and see him scribbling on a piece of paper before he hands it over to you. You take it and look at sloppy, but thankfully still legible writing, and give a bigger, more genuine smile.

"I'll text you later. If I still have my phone, that is." You joke, or at least try to.

He gives a smile and a wave as you turn back and exit the front door.

As it closes behind you, the warmth of the interaction slowly leaches from you and leaves you feeling cold and rattled.

You didn't fully believe the things you said to Alex. You had no real idea what Ben would like because you had never gone against what he said before. The thought alone turned your stomach into knots. It was simply how you two functioned, Ben was the one in charge and made the big decisions, and you listened. Sure, he never had any explicit rules about this, but that didn't mean anything.

As you made the short walk to your home, you began strategizing.

You should do damage control right away, start apologizing straight away, and let him know where you were and what you were doing. Wait, should you mention Alex? At that thought, you shoved the paper with his number deep in your pocket. You didn't want Ben to see it.

Before you could think about it anymore, you were at your front door. Your back tensed, and you hesitated only a moment before opening the door. Waiting would only make it worse.

Before you can fully step in, you see Ben pacing the kitchen, brows furrowed, face strained. As soon as he heard you, his head whipped up, and you felt yourself freeze like a rabbit spotted by a wolf. Frozen, unable to do anything else than stare.

"(Y/N)?"

Just like that, you were broken out of your trance, finally allowed to move again.

You step in all the way and close the door behind you.

"I'm sorry! I didn't think I'd be out that long, I wasn't keeping track of time, I-"

Your voice died the moment you looked back to Ben's face, his features looked so... angry. You've never seen him look at you like that before, never seen him look like that at all. It set off a loud, blaring warning in your brain that something was wrong, and that you needed to leave. But that was crazy. This is Ben, your brother, you were fine.

You tried to start again.

"I was..."

It tapered off as you saw him move towards you, movement swift and robotic as he kept his attention on you. Without thinking, you shrunk back.

"Ben-"

Before you could finish he's in front of you, grabbing your shoulders so tightly it's borderline painful. You grip his arms, weakly trying to push away, knowing better than to seriously try.

"Where were you?"

There was such a dangerous edge to his voice that you couldn't think, couldn't look away. Your breaths came out shallow and your voice so tiny you could barely hear it.

"With the neighbors."

That only made him angrier.

"What neighbors? We don't talk to the neighbors here."

Oh, you were shaking now.

"With- with the neighbors right next to us, the Rogers. I was hanging out with Alex-"

"Who the Hell is Alex?"

His grip got tighter as he shook you, and you could feel the bruises forming. You started pushing at him again, but your arms trembled so badly you might as well not have tried.

"B-Ben, it hurts."

Your voice was so thick with emotion that it was hardly coherent, but Ben understood.

His face blanked for a moment, body shocked to stillness as you continued to try and leave. Then, without warning, he let you go, turned his back and walked a few paces away from you, pinching his nose as he let out a sharp breath.

You listen to him as he takes deep breaths while you rub your sore arms, snot beginning to run as your eyes turn wet. As you step away, you feel your back pressed against the door, and you have the fleeting idea to open it and run away. You realize what you're thinking, and the idea terrifies you so deeply you stay rooted to the spot.

Finally, Ben turns back, face still hardened but not as severely as before.

"Who's Alex?"

You sniff. You really didn't want to do this anymore.

"He's the neighbor's kid. Our mail got mixed up and he brought it over to me, and invited me over to hang out."

You probably should have stopped there, but some scared, hurt part of you needed Ben to understand that you didn't mean this, it wasn't your fault. Your voice cracked as you continued.

"I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry. It was only supposed for a little bit, I didn't think I would be over for so long, just an hour or two. I- I didn't mean for this to happen, I should- I should of called you."

You stopped, but only because the shaking in your hands had spread to your voice, and you didn't think you could keep going without sounding like a complete mess.

His face didn't soften for a moment, staring blankly as you had gone on. After it ended, he closed his eyes, rubbed his face and gave a sharp sigh.

You couldn't read him when he looked away. Was he calming down? Did that make him more upset? Every second that ticked by frayed your already worn-out nerves. You were only one yell away from bursting into tears.

He looked up again, face the same as it was before.

"Do you know what it's like to come home with the door unlocked and see you missing, with no goddamn clue where you could be? What was I supposed to think? You didn't even pick up your damn phone!"

He stopped, took a breath, and then continued, a dangerously calm edge to his voice.

"And then you tell me you decided to stay over at a stranger's house without calling me? A person you only met today? They could of been anybody, anything could happened to you. I thought you had better sense than that."

It stung.

"I'm sorry."

It sounded small and pathetic, even to your own ears.

He let out a sigh.

"Go to your room. We'll talk about this more later."

You don't think twice. You rush away on shaky legs to your room and quietly close the door behind you, afraid of doing anything else to set him off. The bed lets out a soft creak as you sit down. You gather your quivering hands in your lap and look down on them, not sure what to do with yourself.

Before you can think about it any further, you hear the front door open and slam shut, then the car turning on and driving away.

As it quiets down, you can't help it. Stifled sobs climb their way out of your chest, feeling like they're choking you until you can't resist anymore. You collapse on your bed, openly crying until you exhaust yourself to sleep.

The next morning felt almost surreal. You woke up to hearing Ben walking about the house as he did his morning routine. Usually, you would be out of the room right now doing the same, with you both then sitting down to eat breakfast together until it was time for him to leave. This time, you stayed in bed the entire time, idly scrolling your phone as you listened to his footsteps.

A part of you expected him to knock at your door, and ask you why you weren't out yet. Instead, you heard the sizzle of eggs hitting a hot pan as they cooked, and after a short few moments, the front door opening, closing, and locking behind him. The familiar sounds of the car's engine slowly faded away, and you finally got out of your bed, ready to start your day.

You decided to text Alex. You were hesitant to give the details of what happened, simply saying that Ben was upset and things were tense, and thankfully, Alex never pushed it. Instead, he started sending you memes and talking about his ideas for the minecraft world you both started. It was surprising how easy it was to talk to him, the conversation going for hours before he had to leave to help with dinner.

When it was time for Ben to come home, you scurried back to your room, feeling relieved but guilty when you closed the door. On one hand, you could still feel the fear you had last night, and you had no idea what to do with it. It was perplexing and off-putting, and thinking too hard on it made you feel like your brain was turning to static, so you opted to not think about it at all, which meant avoiding your brother as well.

But the guilt wouldn't let you be. It turned what should have been the comfort of your room into a place of wrongness, that you were doing something awful by keeping yourself here and not going down to see him like you usually did. Your lip began to bleed, and only then you realized you had been chewing on it since you heard Ben's car pull in.

You contemplated texting Alex for a distraction as you heard him make his way into the house. And then, step by step, make his way way to the hallway, and then to your door.

And then, the knock.

"Can I come in?"

You don't know if you want to answer, so you don't.

"I know you're awake, kid. Your lights on."

Thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to figure out what to do. For a moment, your mind latched onto the idea that you could pretend to be asleep, but you immediately shrugged it off. This was going to happen anyway, might as well happen now.

"Come in."

The door opens, and you see Ben, completely exhausted, his gaze nervously flitting towards you and the floor as he carried a fast food bag in his hand.

"I brought dinner."

You instinctively perk up at the mention of food, and he takes that as a sign to step closer and sit on the far side of the bed, bag between you two, as he clasped his hands together. His leg starts to quickly bounce before he stops it.

"Figured I'd pick up something on the way home. Didn't feel like cooking.

You nod, even though there's something in you that compels you to do or say more to try and ease his nerves. Even now, after what he did, you hate to see him upset. You try to push the urge to comfort down as you pointedly look away.

Both of you sit in silence while looking anywhere but at each other. In your peripheral, you can see him fidgeting with his hands.

"I know I scared you last night, I just-"

He nervously shifts in his seat. His voice is halting but sincere.

"It worried me, seeing you gone. You mean so much to me, (Y/N). Ever since you were born, I've been there to take care of you. I can't remember a time without you, and I don't want to. You're a part of me, without you, I... I don't even know who I am."

You look over at him and freeze. You're big brother, the man who protected you and cared for you your whole life, is bunched in on himself, face strained and twitching with barely contained emotion as he doggedly stares directly ahead, like looking at you would hurt him. His eyes are red and dark circles frame them. You swallow, years of experience screaming at you to reach over and comfort him, but instead, you sit, never once looking away as he continues talking.

"I shouldn't have done that to you, kid. I should of known better. Should of contained myself. I try so hard for you, but there's times it feels like it isn't enough, and it keeps me up at night."

He sniffs, and your eyes begin to blur.

"I never wanted to be like that in front of you, you didn't deserve to see that. I-"

He wipes his hands over his face, taking a deep breath as he tries to collect himself. After a beat, he uncovers his face and finally looks at you.

"I'm sorry."

It was like a spell had been broken. You found yourself pushing a food to the side and leaning against his shoulder. He hesitantly wrapped his arm around you, and when you didn't resist, he reached his other arm around you, pulled you into his chest, and began softly rocking you back and forth.

You feel the rise and fall of his chest, and it feels the same as you did as a kid when you would run up to him when something scared you, or when you felt your emotions overwhelm you. He would hold you tight and it felt like you were in the safest place in the world. The relief of that feeling after everything you had been through was like coming home.

Still safely tucked in his arms, you spoke again, voice more quiet and child-like than you meant it to be.

"Promise me you won't do that again."

The mere thought of him acting so uncontrollably and violently towards you was enough to make you nauseous.

He squeezed you tight.

"I promise, kid, never again."

You nodded, unable to reply. The both of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity before he slowly began letting you go.

After getting fully untangled, you rub your eyes, a feeling of exhaustion settling in as your stomach rumbles.

"I'm hungry."

"Hi hungry, I'm Ben."

His reply is so quick, you think it's automatic for him.

You shoot him a glare, but it's undermined by your smile. He returns it with one of his own.

"You wanna go down and eat? I got you a milkshake too, it's down in the kitchen. But might be a bit melted by now."

You spring up, fast food bag in hand as you make your way towards the door.

"Why didn't you say so, let's go!"

You hear him let out a chuckle, and you let out one reflectively, too.

You both share the meal together, talking and laughing late into the evening, until it was finally time to sleep. You drifted off easily into a deep, restful sleep, finally at peace.

[cranberrymoons]

“you’re exhausting” actually so true eddie; please speak on that because i do love buck diaz as much as the next guy but what else are you supposed to say to your estranged unmarried divorced ex-husband when you’re calling him a deadbeat dad in front of ronda rousey after he legally prevented you from speaking to him and then stalked you and all your coworkers to a grocery store eight miles from his apartment to pretend to buy cat laxative and apologize for suing you for millions of dollars. textbook exhausting guy behavior, actually.

[serpentface]

In the og draft where Brakul and Janeys die, what happens to Hibrides? Does Couya, as new God-Emperor, pull a "Well I guess its my Familial Duty to look after my brother's dead wife who is also my crush. I can be normal about this." /doubt

Also the kids! Would Couya have to take care of them too? (I cannot imagine she is good with kids but maybe they'd like her somehow???)

Couya actually does kind of have a Familial Duty towards Hibrides and the two kids, per kinship rules Hibrides is her 'sister by (covenant) blood' and considered a non-biological member of her immediate family. Odonii having legal autonomy wrt property and effectively being their own heads of household (rights they have on the basis of being priests) gives them full maneuverability to make decisions for non-autonomous female/underage family members if male heads of house are dead. Order of legal authority goes Janeys > Brakul (shaky, could/would be challenged) > Saizen > Faiza > Couya > Other male Haidamane relatives ≥ Living male members of Hibrides' birth family, and in the 'Janeys/Brakul die' scenario everyone above Couya in that chain of command is also dead by the end.

In that scenario it would actually be an Expectation that Couya secures future plans for Hibrides and Livya/Erubi and provides for them in the interim. The default future-planning for a widow in Hibrides' circumstance (considered youngish, no adult children) would be remarriage (ideally within the same family), though being essentially 'adopted' as a dependent by an older male family member would also be possible (this is often the case for older widows who don't have an adult son or nephews to take care of them).

In the old scenario where Janeys and Brakul died, this whole thing was a facet of the last couple weeks of relationship collapse between Couya and Faiza. Faiza is the one who initially inherits legal authority over the whole situation and was almost definitely just going to arrange a new marriage for Hibrides once this was all over and there aren't any real viable options within the family, so Hibrides would just be kind of dumped off elsewhere.

Couya doesn't really have any well-developed objections to women being functionally property (Odonii tend to be among the absolute Least proto-proto-feminist members of society in general, not having life experiences that provide them with built-in empathy for that kind of treatment), but at that point she's gotten some insight into how Terrified Hibrides is of the concept of being torn out of her difficult but comfortably familiar situation and married off again. She is aware that part of Hibrides' motivations for spearheading the Children From Consensual Cuckholdry scenario is that multiple levels of mutually assured destruction would prevent Janeys from divorcing and dumping her off to whatever awful old widower would take her (which he used to use as a threat and was completely defanged once 'divorce on grounds of alleged infertility' became a non-option). That exact scenario would pretty much come to pass with Faiza dictating Hibrides' future living arrangements (Faiza would make an effort to find a match better than 'whatever awful old widower would take her', but she doesn't ultimately give much of a shit about Hibrides) which is upsetting to Couya. And also there's just purely selfish motivation on Couya's part in not wanting to lose access to her.

This didn't outright provide a Motive for Couya to kill Faiza (it played out more or less the same in that draft plot and remained un-premeditated) but it added another layer of tensions leading up to it. I also didn't have the endgame scenario well-established though beyond just that it would be easier for the new godking to justify Not arranging a remarriage her widowed sister in law and retaining Hibrides/her daughters within her household as Couya's only remaining immediate family. (Especially since Hibrides' pregnancy throughout whitecalf ends in a stillbirth, and she's considered to be just past the ideal time for childbirth at the ripe old age of 28. The reproductive motives for a remarriage are heavily diminished)

Though in no scenario would Couya be expected to Participate in any actual day to day childcare. The base expectation of 'taking care of the kids' would mean 'making sure the kids have a home and are provided for and get a proper education, being there for them as kin on religious occasions/holidays requiring familial presence, someday making marriage arrangements for them'. Couya would have even less social obligations for them than a typical aunt (not even counting the godking thing) since she's a priest and that's her primary duty in life. And yeah she is also Not particularly good with kids, and in the present day has had very few interactions with them. Livya is too young to have a solid grasp on who the rarely-encountered Couya is in relationship to her and Erubi mostly knows her as 'aunt who has the same job as Faiza (the cooler aunt), is extremely boring, and usually only shows up to funerals'.

This is the only drawing I have of Couya (not) interacting with a niece, being reintroduced to Erubi when she's 5-ish

(this is a ballsy thing to say (beyond the fact that they both know damn well that the kid isn't related to either of them) because Janeys routinely lied to Couya that she's full on adopted throughout much of their childhood, and avoided directly verbalizing their shared siring even after dropping the 'YOUR ADOPTED' thing)

[transfemme-shelterdog]

I think when it comes to the discussion surround paraphilias it’s like. Tantamount to encourage people to get help. I’m the anon who has horrible intrusive thoughts about the subject and the shame prevents me from talking to someone about it to help me work through my fears of developing a paraphilia because of it, and if people were much more gentle instead of “you’re a piece of shit kill yourself” right out the gate then maybe I’d be willing to be publically open with my experience. It’s about empathy with people that are struggling with feeling these things and thinking these things, just the same as you would someone with bipolar disorder or schizophrenia.

I also do think that paraphilias like necro/pedo/zoophilia, the actual diagnostic paraphilia, have no place in kink circles. The moment one starts pushing to advocate the support and presence of zoophiles and pedophiles in things like pride circles for example (the entire zoophile pride flag, MAP pride flag thing a long while back) or the moment someone treats their paraphilia like it’s an identity akin to queerness they start playing an incredibly dangerous game.

THAT IS TO SAY, no, Deathplay/ageplay/animal roleplay does not mean that someone has a paraphilia surrounding death/kids/animals. These are two separate divorced things and i think when it comes to this discussion it’s an important distinction to make.

Idk sorry if this makes no sense

Yeah, I agree. Not shaming people for something that they can't control is the best thing. We need to make it easier for people to get the help they need to cope with these urges that go against the law.

I've always taken that stance when talking to people with less than legal paraphilias, and I feel like it helps them a lot.

[demon-country]

We haven't seen much of Octavia and Stella thus far in the series, because up until now almost everything about Stolas and the characters attached to him (other than Blitz) has only been shown if it's plot relevant. But now, with Stolas officially in the gang, the loss of his relationship with Octavia is going to be a major source of drama. Her character growth, living situation, and relationship with her mother are now plot relevant, so we will be seeing more of how she is coping without him there to love and protect her. And I already know it's going to kill me inside.

Octavia is miserable, grieving, and feels abandoned, betrayed, and guilty for being the reason Stolas put up with Stella for so long (what she doesn't realize, yet, is that without her Stolas probably wouldn't have tried for a divorce. In all likelihood, given what we've seen so far, he'd have made his bid for freedom by way of suicide). And instead of a loving parent to help her work through those complicated and overwhelming feelings, she has Stella, who is abusive and controlling. And although she probably does love Octavia on some level, she has shown herself to be a piss poor mother who cares more about getting her petty revenge than she does about her daughter's happiness and wellbeing.

I sincerely hope that Octavia has friends, because her story is not destined to be a happy one for quite some time to come. She is going to be getting a number of terrible reality checks and revelations that will leave her current worldview, sense of self, and way of life irreparably shattered. Any sense of stability she still has left will be gone, many of her happy memories will be tainted by the rot her mother's abuse caused, and a lot of her freedoms - like her freedom of expression - will likely be taken away.

I feel so, so bad for her. She will soon be a legal adult, but that does not mean she isn't young and vulnerable. Her father cannot protect her now unless she goes to him, and although I'm sure he will continue to reach out to her to the best of his ability - per Blitz's advice, and potentially with Loona as a proxy - she has to be willing to take that step herself. He cannot take it for her.

And that is going to be very difficult for her. She already feels guilty and like she was a burden to him, which will be an emotional obstacle on its own, but now her abusive mother has sole custody of her, and unfortunately for Octavia, her last stunt of protecting her father will probably earn her the ire of both her mother and uncle. She did, after all, just make her uncle look like a complete fool by so effortlessly overpowering him.

And while Andrealphus likely won't be inclined to tell Stella about that particular humiliation just yet, there's nothing stopping that manipulative motherfucker from telling her that Octavia attempted to sneak out to go meet her father (which is easily deduced on his part by the fact that she came from the opposite direction of the palace, right on the heels of Stolas' cavalry). Given her efforts to keep them from talking to each other, I can't see Stella taking that too well, and without her old punching bag to take her frustration out on it's not a stretch to think that she might eventually turn on Octavia. Abusive relationships are notoriously hard to escape from for many reasons - which is another factor that prevented Stolas from doing so earlier - so if that does happen then it will likely also be a struggle for her.

Can someone who isn't Stella or anyone trying to use her, please give Octavia a hug and some support? She is going to sorely need it, because she is now more alone than ever.

[macro-pulse]

HOSPITALS ARE LOSING THEIR MINDS TRYING TO IMPLEMENT THIS

labor and delivery wards have become immigration checkpoints

imagine you're a hospital administrator on July 27, 2025, when this policy goes live. what the actual fuck do you do?

THE MORNING MEETING FROM HELL

Hospital CEO: "So... we need to check immigration status before issuing birth certificates now"

Legal Counsel: "But EMTALA says we can't"

HR Director: "Staff are threatening to quit"

IT Director: "Our systems literally can't do this"

Risk Management: "We're going to get sued either way"

THE IMPOSSIBLE PAPERWORK

For EVERY birth, hospitals now need:

Mother's documents:

Immigration status

Visa type and expiration

Entry date

Legal status at conception(?!)

Father's documents:

Same as above

But what if father unknown?

What if father disputes?

What if multiple possible fathers?

THE SYSTEMS THAT DON'T EXIST

Hospitals need to:

Verify immigration documents (how??)

Check federal databases (which ones??)

Confirm authenticity (are we ICE now??)

Do this during LABOR AND DELIVERY

Nobody has these systems!

THE ETHICAL NIGHTMARE FOR DOCTORS

Hippocratic Oath: "First, do no harm"

Doctor's new reality:

Deliver healthy baby ✓

Deny them citizenship ✗

Create stateless person ✗

Violate medical ethics ✗

THE NURSE REBELLION

Labor & Delivery nurses across the country:

"We're healthcare workers, not immigration agents"

Reports of:

Mass resignation threats

Refusing to collect status info

"Forgetting" to check documents

Civil disobedience in scrubs

THE LEGAL LIABILITY CHAOS

Hospitals can be sued for:

Following federal order (by states)

Not following federal order (by feds)

Discrimination (by families)

Malpractice (by everyone)

Legal departments in meltdown.

THE REAL SCENARIOS PLAYING OUT

Scenario 1: Woman in active labor arrives Husband fumbling for documents Baby crowning "MA'AM WE NEED YOUR VISA"

Scenario 2: Teen mother, no ID Father unknown Baby born Now what? Stateless by default?

Scenario 3: Parents have different statuses Divorce proceedings ongoing Who counts as "father"? Legal clusterfuck

THE DATABASE REQUIREMENTS

Hospitals need access to:

USCIS systems

State Department visa records

ICE databases

Birth parent verification

NONE OF THESE EXIST FOR HOSPITALS

THE PRIVACY VIOLATIONS

HIPAA vs. Immigration enforcement:

Medical privacy protected

But must share for citizenship

Conflicting federal laws

Lawsuits inevitable

THE EMERGENCY ROOM CRISIS

EMTALA (Emergency Medical Treatment Act):

Can't turn away emergencies

Can't ask status before treatment

But must ask for birth certificate?

Federal law fighting federal law.

THE TECHNOLOGY DISASTER

Hospital IT systems:

Built for medical records

Not immigration verification

Integration costs: $10-50M per hospital

Timeline: 2-3 years minimum

But policy starts NOW.

THE STAFF TRAINING IMPOSSIBILITY

Need to train:

Doctors on immigration law

Nurses on document verification

Registrars on visa types

Security on document fraud

With what budget? What time?

THE ACTUAL FORMS BEING CREATED

"Birthright Citizenship Determination Form"

15 pages

200+ fields

Requires legal attestation

In active labor???

THE STATE VS. FEDERAL FORMS

California: "Use our citizenship certificate" Feds: "Use our non-citizen certificate" Hospital: "WE HAVE BOTH NOW WHAT"

THE INSURANCE CHAOS

Insurance companies:

Cover citizens differently

Need status for billing

Denying coverage for stateless

Creating healthcare apartheid

THE PUBLIC HEALTH DISASTER

Women avoiding hospitals:

Home births skyrocketing

Prenatal care plummeting

Maternal mortality rising

Infant deaths increasing

All predictable. All preventable.

THE SECURITY CONCERNS

Hospitals becoming targets:

Protests at entrances

ICE wanting access

Families desperate

Violence potential high

THE WHISTLEBLOWER CASES

Hospital workers reporting:

"We're falsifying documents"

"Administration ordering discrimination"

"Babies being trafficked"

"This is genocide"

THE INTERNATIONAL DOCTORS

Foreign-trained doctors on visas:

Their own kids affected

Treating stateless babies

Moral injury off charts

Many leaving medicine

THE COST EXPLOSION

Implementation costs per hospital:

Legal compliance: $5M

IT systems: $20M

Training: $3M

Security: $2M

Lawsuits: ???

THE CATHOLIC HOSPITAL CRISIS

Catholic hospitals (15% of US beds):

Religious duty to protect life

Moral obligation to dignity

Can't participate in creating stateless

Facing federal punishment

THE MEDICAL RECORDS NIGHTMARE

How to record:

"US Born: Yes"

"US Citizen: No"

Makes no sense

Systems can't handle

THE PEDIATRIC FOLLOW-UP

Pediatricians asking:

Can stateless babies get vaccines?

School physical forms?

Medicare eligibility?

Nobody knows

THE TRANSFER PROBLEMS

Baby needs NICU at different hospital:

Transfer requires documentation

What documents for stateless?

Insurance coverage?

Legal guardian rights?

THE UNION RESPONSE

Healthcare unions:

Filing grievances

Refusing unsafe work

Protecting members from liability

Considering strikes

THE DAILY ABSURDITY

Actual hospital conversation: "Congratulations on your baby girl!" "Is she American?" "Well, that depends on your visa expiration date" "...what?" "Welcome to 2025"

THE BOTTOM LINE

Hospitals are being forced to:

Become immigration enforcers

Violate medical ethics

Create impossible systems

Destroy patient trust

All to harm babies

This isn't healthcare. This is healthcare held hostage.

And everyone knows it's insane.

GOTO NEXT POST -> CLICK HERE

GOTO FIRST POST -> CLICK HERE

[mariacallous]

At this moment, with numerous legislative proposals and actions that appear to be anti-democratic and may weaken democratic principles and practices, it is especially important to highlight efforts that could disenfranchise voters. The SAVE Act is one such proposal; if enacted, it will undermine voter participation in elections, a fundamental tenet of liberal democracies.

Republicans in the U.S. House of Representatives have reintroduced the Safeguard American Voter Eligibility (SAVE) Act. If enacted, the bill would require all voters to prove their American citizenship when registering to vote or updating their voter registration information. Voters would have to provide specific documentation in person—such as a passport or birth certificate—to verify their citizenship.

According to an analysis of the bill by the Brennan Center for Justice, the SAVE Act would undermine voting rights and disenfranchise tens of millions of American voters, as more than 21 million citizens lack these documents. The Center for American Progress estimates that more than 140 million citizens do not have a passport and that approximately 69 million women who changed their names after marriage may not have documents, such as a birth certificate, that match their current legal name. 

The SAVE Act would apply to all forms of voter registration, including address updates after a move, name changes due to marriage or divorce, re-registration following a change in party affiliation, and first-time voting by mail. The legislation would eliminate online and mail-in voter registration by requiring voters to provide proof of citizenship in person.

Under the bill, citizenship documents—such as a passport or birth certificate—would have to match a current photo ID. However, REAL IDs, as well as military and tribal IDs, would not be considered sufficient proof of citizenship. A preliminary analysis of the bill indicates that its documentation requirements, as presently written, are more likely to affect women in heterosexual marriages. LGBTQ+ and heterosexual couples have the freedom to keep their respective last names, hyphenate, or create an entirely new last name. In recent years, some men have become more willing to take their partner’s last name, challenging traditional gender norms. The Knot, an all-purpose international wedding website, provides information on name changes for same-sex couples.

The bill’s in-person requirement could also disenfranchise approximately 60 million rural voters, who would have to travel great distances to register to vote. Some voters in Hawaii and Alaska might even need to take flights to update their voter registration data to be eligible to vote. A name change requires voters to re-register to vote under their new name, and right now, they can do so by mail, online, by phone, or in person. The SAVE Act would eliminate all but the in-person option.

Rep. Chip Roy (R-Texas) reintroduced the SAVE Act on Jan. 3, 2025, aiming to prevent non-citizens from voting—an exceptionally rare occurrence. However, claims of undocumented immigrants voting started to gain traction during the 2016 presidential election campaign, despite a lack of evidence.

Concerns about voter fraud are not new, but Republican focus on the issue has remained persistent, particularly since the highly contested 2000 presidential election. From media coverage of hanging chads, butterfly ballots, and voter purges to present-day allegations of rigged elections, claims of voter fraud have continued to shape political discourse. Each claim, regardless of its veracity, raises doubts about the security and integrity of the U.S. electoral system.

Even credible studies, including one commissioned by Trump’s Presidential Advisory Commission on Election Integrity on the 2016 presidential election, have failed to quell growing mistrust in election systems. Rampant disinformation campaigns have taken hold within conservative political circles, fueling skepticism. Persistent falsehoods about the electoral process—including baseless claims of undocumented immigrants voting and ineligible voters registering and casting ballots in multiple jurisdictions—continue to erode public confidence.

Following the 2020 presidential election, Donald Trump, his campaign surrogates, members of his legal team, and elected Republicans at the local, state, and federal levels made numerous allegations of voter fraud. They repeatedly spread false claims about a stolen election through traditional and social media, and promoted unsubstantiated right-wing conspiracy theories alleging that thousands of illegal votes were cast.

Extensive research, including studies by the Brennan Center for Justice, has shown that widespread voter fraud is rare, and voter impersonation is virtually nonexistent. When instances of voter fraud are identified in either in-person or mail-in voting, they are often the result of administrative errors rather than nefarious intent. However, the “Big Lie” of the 2020 election persists, fueled by political rhetoric and misinformation.

Republicans in Florida have supported and enacted new laws aimed at preventing voter fraud, improving election security, and protecting the integrity of elections. For instance, in 2022, Florida Republicans passed Senate Bill (SB) 524, which created the Office of Election Crimes and Security (OECS), a state agency with broad authority to investigate alleged illegal voting practices. OECS has been tasked with examining voter fraud, voting with a felony conviction, voter registration irregularities, candidate or issue petition activities, and election related actions such as “ballot harvesting.”

Senate Bill 524 also established an election integrity unit, informally called the “election police force.” Later that year, to great fanfare, Gov. Ron DeSantis held a press conference to announce the arrests of 20 individuals for voter fraud or for voting despite being disqualified due to past felony convictions. However, records from the Office of Election Crimes and Security later revealed that most of the charges were dropped due to a lack of evidence. A report by the Southern Poverty Law Center, “Shelby County v. Holder Continuously Harms Voting Rights in the Deep South,” detailed cases in which individuals arrested for alleged voter fraud had received voter registration cards from the state, registered without issue, and voted in the 2020 presidential election.

Today, Republicans in Congress are advocating for the passage of the SAVE Act, a bill that claims to prevent undocumented people from voting. However, the proposed legislation is more likely to disenfranchise and suppress legally married individuals who have changed their names, as well as rural voters, rather than effectively prevent voter fraud.

The current election system already detects the vast majority of voter fraud, and it is already a legal requirement to be a U.S. citizen to vote. If enacted, the SAVE Act is likely to create additional bureaucratic hurdles, impose more regulations, and ultimately disenfranchise millions of citizens. The bill is rooted in a persistent misinformation campaign about voter fraud and stolen elections, rather than addressing a documented problem in the electoral system.

[cepetriwrites]

Alicent Reverses the Hourglass Ch 50 Memes Pt 1

Me @ midnight: who needs sleep

Can you tell I’m in nursing school?

“She’s wily, she’ll keep pushing out babes until she gives him his heir.”

Almost like… it’s her job as a wife so something smh

Live reaction of me reading Celtigar’s plan (Homelander theme plays)

Wait this isn’t funny anymore

“No,” Celtigar said. His fingers began to dig into her bruise. “You must make sure to seduce him quickly. Win him over first. And give him a son.”

“A bastard.” Koline was aghast.

Me

Not me having to defend Koline now. JFC.

Me trying to process the insane stupidity of Celtigars plan

So (from his perspective) Lord Celtigar’s plan is to have his daughter seduce Daemon when his wife is pregnant with their first child. Which is when men at their happiest (ask my homegirl Katherine of Aragon). Get pregnant, hope that Alicent doesn’t have a son, (0.5 probability) and Koline does (0.5 probability). Meaning his plan has - AT BEST - a25% chance of success (0.5 x 0.5 =0.25)

WHICH if it succeeds Koline will have a bastard son, which’ll have no legal claims to anything. In order for that son to inherit anything he’d either have to get his son legitimatized by the king, and Otto WILL NOT let that happen. Or he divorces Alicent - again, Otto and Viserys won’t let that happen, and marries Koline.

So Koline needs to torpedo the marriage to prevent daemon from impregnating Alicent with a true born son. And like… given what they know of daemon… he’s quite literally the type to have his wife and a side hoe(s). This is Vhagar size level of dumbassery and buffoonery that he’s making his daughter silly herself for

Me when the reoccurring theme of girls being nothing but tools for their father’s ambitions reoccurs

Aemma. Alicent. Rhaenyra. Koline. All expected to risk their life and spill their blood in the birthing bed for the ambitions of the very men who were supposed to protect them.

It’s the way their personhood ceases and their identity is casually discarded the second their father needs something. And for what? A fancy chair? More money? Even more power. Daughters aren’t very precious in this world if they’re not being useful.

Alexa play would’ve could’ve should’ve by Taylor swift

Me watching the inevitably of daemon breaking Kolines arm (best case) or cutting her head off and presenting it to Alicent like a cat leaving dead birds

OR

me watching the inevitably of Alicent bouncing Koline’s head like a basketball off a stone wall when she catches Koline trying to touch her man. & now she’s pregnant so you know she’ll be extra psycho

Ahahahaha she might actually get killed

~~~~

Not sure when part 2 will come out because I have a test to study for that’ll determine if I pass a class! Whoooo 🥳🥳🥳

If you catch me crying on the internet you know whyyyyyy

Memes Masterpost

[evidence-based-activism]

women are not held accountable. I don’t remember paternity fraud being a crime. In most places, a man still owes women alimony even if she cheats. He still has to pay child support even if the kid does not turn out to be his. Innocent men are punished and you are talking about them not being held accountable lol.

Gender neutral laws are a joke in most civilised countries. It always favors women without fail.

It’s just excuses for women to avoid accountability as usual.

to protect men paternity tests should be legal and mandatory.

Why are women surprised when men want paternity tests? The laws are already unfair to men. It’s like making divorce illegal.

"women are not held accountable."

Held accountable for what?? Did you send this to the wrong blog?

"I don’t remember paternity fraud being a crime."

That's because it's a civil offense. Also, if you agree to take responsibility for a child only to back out when you find out the child isn't yours then you never should have agreed to take responsibility in the first place.

"In most places, a man still owes women alimony even if she cheats."

First of all, the purpose of alimony is not punitive, it's to ensure both spouses can maintain the same quality of life. That being said, in a fair number of states, if he can prove infidelity he can often avoid or greatly reduce alimony [1]. In addition, it's simple to avoid this even in states without this consideration; just get a prenuptial agreement with a clause concerning infidelity.

Beyond all that: alimony is paid by the higher-earning spouse. Given the extent to which men have prevented women from earning equal money (e.g., insisting on stay-at-home-mothers, excluding them from higher paying jobs, insisting on prioritizing their own career advancement over their wive's), it's reasonable that they bear some of the consequences of this decision (i.e., paying alimony to a wife they've prevented from earning equal amounts of money by their own actions) [2].

In addition, alimony has never been particularly common [2]. It was a part of less than quarter of divorces prior to divorce reform, and has only fallen since then (and the proportion of permanent alimony has fallen even faster).

"He still has to pay child support even if the kid does not turn out to be his."

If you have reason to believe that the child isn't yours, then seek out a paternity test (the court can and does order them when necessary). Often times there is a time limit (usually a couple years following the child's birth) in which you can seek out a paternity test. If you miss this deadline, then you've already agreed to take responsibility for a child, therefore you are responsible for that child. The courts will subsequently prioritize whatever is in the child's best interest.

"Innocent men are punished and you are talking about them not being held accountable lol."

Child support and alimony are not punitive, they are part of what you agree to when you get married and/or have a child. If you don't want to be held liable for alimony, don't get married. If you don't want to be held liable for child support, don't have unprotected sex.

"Gender neutral laws are a joke in most civilised countries. It always favors women without fail."

Do you have any evidence for this? At all? This is so vague I can't even try and find sources for you. What laws? About what? What "civilized" countries? (And how exactly are you defining "civilized" anon?) How do they favor women?

"It’s just excuses for women to avoid accountability as usual."

Women are consistently held "accountable" for not just their behavior, but for the behavior of the men around them. Here's two articles [3-4], one from back in the 1990's and one from 2022, both describing the exact same phenomenon: a culture of women being blamed for men's actions.

Also, here's an interesting laboratory experiment [5] that found that only men were less likely to blame low performance outcomes of female leaders on luck (as opposed to selfish decisions). But again, this study was interesting, but also doesn't invalidate the extensive cultural history of blaming women for men's violence against them and other around them.

"to protect men paternity tests should be legal and mandatory."

They are legal.

No, they should not be mandatory. No medical procedure should be mandatory; that would be a gross violation of personal autonomy. It's one thing for a court to order a test based on the specific circumstances of that case (this is reasonable), it's another to mandate that every women or child undergo a paternity test (that is not reasonable).

Also ... this doesn't have anything to do with "protecting" men. To protect is "to make sure that someone or something is not harmed, injured, damaged, etc." [6]. Raising a child that is not biologically yours does not harm, injure, or damage; therefore preventing this does not protect men.

"Why are women surprised when men want paternity tests?"

Well if she believes the two of you have been in a monogamous relationship, then she may be surprised at the implication that you have not been faithful. If she believes you're "one of the good ones" she may be surprised at your attempt to dodge parental responsibilities. Or maybe this is just the first time you've showcased your misogynistic beliefs, and she's surprised at your display of disrespect.

"The laws are already unfair to men."

I covered this earlier. No, they are not, and there is no evidence suggesting they are.

"It’s like making divorce illegal."

No, no it is not. A divorce is "the legal ending of a marriage" [7]. Such an ending does not absolve you of your responsibilities to your children nor does it absolve you of the legal contracts you agreed to. (One of which is the payment of alimony, in the event of a divorce, provided you are the higher-earning partner.)

References under the cut:

Alimony laws and forms: 50-state survey. (2021, January 18). Justia. https://www.justia.com/family/divorce/alimony-forms-50-state-resources/

McMullen, J. G. (2014). Spousal Support in the 21st Century. Wis. JL Gender, & Soc'y, 29, 1.

Blame-the-woman syndrome—The washington post. (2021, September 21). https://web.archive.org/web/20210921162019/https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/lifestyle/wellness/1994/12/06/blame-the-woman-syndrome/50095e32-280a-441f-94d4-60c7c73eb11a/

“Blame her”: The cultural and legal phenomenon of accusing women | psychology today. (2022). https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/intersecting-law-and-mental-health/202204/blame-her-the-cultural-and-legal-phenomenon-of

Erkal, N., Gangadharan, L., & Koh, B. H. (2023). Do women receive less blame than men? Attribution of outcomes in a prosocial setting. Journal of Economic Behavior & Organization, 210, 441-452.

Protect verb—Definition, pictures, pronunciation and usage notes | Oxford Advanced American Dictionary at oxfordlearnersdictionaries.com. (n.d.). Retrieved 2024, from https://www.oxfordlearnersdictionaries.com/definition/american_english/protect

Divorce noun—Definition, pictures, pronunciation and usage notes | Oxford Advanced American Dictionary at oxfordlearnersdictionaries.com. (n.d.). Retrieved 2024, from https://www.oxfordlearnersdictionaries.com/definition/american_english/divorce

[anxiouswizardart]

The Suffering of Job

For context, I drew this while researching the ethics of disability and, more broadly, marginalisation for my thesis.

At present, Western academia has an unreflective bias towards a northern protestant ethos, and so its ethical assumptions are closely associated with ideas of utility and legalism. This means they are often unable to incorporate either the disabled or disenfranchised into their frameworks without presenting them as the other; moral subjects whose agency and value are overlooked. Even virtue ethics, which I personally ascribe to, is often unable to prevent itself from creating hierarchies of value, which lead to similar problems of parternalism and dehumanisation.

I was motivated to focus on this area because I was nolonger comfortable having my own experience and worth dictated to me by those whose experience is one of manifest moral privilege, and who seem incapable of internalising the inherent worth of the marginalised or acknowledge the dependency which is inherent to the human experience.

The figure of Job is important to me in this as he represents a paradigmatic case of one who is divorced from those aspects of himself which appear to give meaning and value to his life, and so is forced into a choice. Either he acknowledges the inherent worth of his humanity or he despairs.

He does not approach this issue with passivity or pious fatalism, but rages against the injustice of his experience; an injustice made worse by social exclusion and the pretentious moralising of his "friends".

Job does, however, refuse to accept that his misfortune is somehow a cosmic punishment, and he refuses to diminish himself because of the privation he experiences.

The book of Job can be read a number of ways, but, I would argue, it is, at its heart a meditation on the inherent value of human life in a way which is not dependent on external goods or social capital.

[astro-nomaly]

The Graveyard Shift

Impulsively posting a chapter 1 draft I wrote on a whim a while ago enjoy ig

No content warnings aside from foul language

Lloyd blew a strand of bleached blond hair from his eyes as he stared dejectedly out of the window of his social worker’s car. 

He watched, bored out of his mind, as the near-empty road sped past, scenic green fields and plots of land with lonely houses whizzing by. Dareth, the aforementioned social worker, tapped his hands on the steering wheel of his beat-up Camaro while humming along to the 80’s rock on his old stereo.  

Lloyd checked his phone, an old model from seven years ago, and grimaced when he saw no new notifications.  

Lloyd Garmadon lived in Ninjago City, the biggest city on the continent of, unoriginally, Ninjago. He lived in a two-bedroom apartment with his mother, Misako, who despite being divorced in all but legality to his absent father, refused to drop his last name.  

Mom was... a strange case. She was an archeologist who worked abroad half the time, and worked at home online the other half. Despite her historical interests, she was a conspiracy theorist: his mom was the sort to drink herbal teas and drown in essential oils instead of getting a flu shot, because, in her words, “what if the government begins to track them”? As if they were people worth tracking. 

She was overprotective, too, but only really when it was convenient. Most of the time, she didn’t pay much attention to her only son; just tossed him a twenty and told him to order out.  

He was used to it. Oftentimes, she was away on work, and Lloyd would be left alone in the apartment. It wasn’t like she was abandoning him – she was just busy. Besides, the utilities were always paid for, and she always left him an envelope of cash for food and emergencies. She just also didn’t text or call much. 

Social services didn’t agree.  

Mrs. Hepworth, his homely old neighbor, got worried when she noticed Misako had been gone much longer than usual. His mom was only supposed to be at work for three weeks – she'd been gone for two months, and hadn’t texted him in several weeks. On top of that, Lloyd skipped school so often that she took notice, and called CPS.  

He’d been caught totally off guard when several social workers showed up and began rooting through his apartment the second they found out he was alone, and didn’t have a guardian to actually prevent them from basically raiding the place. Faster than he could blink, he was saddled with Obnoxious Dareth and shuttled off to Jamanakai Village, where his uncle supposedly lived. 

Lloyd rolled his eyes at the thought. He’d never even met his Uncle Wu, his father’s brother. The guy had never so much as called, and Lloyd was supposed to live with him? Sure, it was better than being placed with a bunch of strangers he wasn’t even related to, but he’d much rather be back at home, eating pizza and playing video games well past 3am. 

Of course, this was sort of his own fault. Maybe if he’d just gone to school, Mrs. Hepworth wouldn’t have noticed anything... 

Lloyd’s eyes refocused on his reflection in the grimy window, and he scowled. His eyes glared back. The sclera – fancy word for ‘whites of the eyes’ - were pitch black, and his irises a bright, radioactive green. He hated them.  

A rare, but harmless genetic mutation, the doctors said. Harmless his ass. Almost his entire life, Lloyd had been bullied for those weird eyes. He’d been called everything from a vampire to a demon at schools, and the more religious kids hated him with an equally religious passion. Despite his attempts to fade into the background, he could never escape the stares. Even teachers found him off-putting.  

For the longest time, he’d wanted to just buy contacts to cover them up, but Mom would never let him. She hated wasting money on ‘unnecessary stuff’. So, basically, anything Lloyd ever wanted. She certainly never had a problem paying extra for rip-off VPNs.  

His mood soured even further at the thought of his mother, and he slouched in his seat. Soon, he’d be stuck at Jamanakai Village, which was so small it barely had its own zip code, with his estranged uncle.  

Lloyd checked his phone again. Nothing.  

“So,” Dareth spoke up, much to Lloyd’s annoyance. The guy was obnoxiously cheerful, and super awkward. Worst, he wasn’t even self-aware! But, Lloyd supposed, he could be stuck with someone worse than the chubby, middle-aged man. 

“I was supposed to ask you some extra questions, but honestly, I forgot,” Dareth chuckled, and Lloyd rolled his eyes. “But, just for the paperwork later –last time you spoke t’ your mom?” 

Lloyd shifted, scowling down at his beat-up converse. “Define ‘spoke to’.” 

“Called, texted – communicated in any way.” 

“Three weeks ago,” he mumbled, thumbing his phone. “I told her I needed her to send me some extra money for food and she replied with a thumbs up. That’s the last time she said anything to me.” 

“Hm,” Dareth hummed, looking concerned. Lloyd hated that look. He got it all the time – people who thought his eyes were a disease, people who heard about his nonexistent father, people who knew about his perpetually absent mom – it was the worst. And he just knew what was going through Dareth’s head.  

Poor, sad, neglected little kid. 

Jokes on him. Lloyd liked it when Mom was gone. He got the whole apartment to himself and got to order as much junk food as he wanted. She was such a stick in the mud about those sorts of things.  

“And, just checking; how long is she usually gone?” 

Why was he even asking? Lloyd went through this all already at the station. “Like, around three weeks at a time,” he said anyway, shrugging. “Sometimes she gets held back or shit comes up. The cell company probably got fucked and that’s why she hasn’t called me.” 

It didn’t escape him that he was making excuses for nonexistent accusations. His mom hadn’t called him – and hadn’t even sent the money he’d asked for. He’d been eating ramen and frozen dino nuggets for three weeks.  

But the other option was that something was wrong. Mom, as flawed as she was, was all Lloyd really had. What would he do if something happened?  

He shook the thought away before it could latch on. Mom was fine. She just got wrapped up in work, or the cell company really had gotten fucked somehow. She was in another country; it was totally plausible. These people were blowing stuff out of proportion.  

“Well, aside from that,” Dareth continued, drumming his fingers rhythmically. “You got anyone that checks in on ya?” 

“Mrs. Hepworth knows me,” Lloyd says, partially dodging the question. “I’m not a little kid, I don’t need a babysitter.” 

Dareth laughed. “Not at all, kid! Just wondrin’ who’s been keepin’ an eye on ya.” 

Lloyd didn’t say no one. 

The car slowed to a stop at a red light, and Dareth took the chance to turn to look at Lloyd, an open look on his face. Immediately, Lloyd was tense, and internally cursed himself. He was told that he looked downright freakish when he got defensive or angry, what with his strange, black-rimmed eyes... 

But Dareth didn’t seem to mind, because he just smiled softly. “Y’know kiddo, I get it. You’re a little nervous, little anxious. And those nerves get to ya at places like the station! But you can totally talk to me, about anything.” 

Lloyd broke the eye contact. He wasn’t totally wrong – Lloyd was nervous. But it wasn’t the social workers who questioned him, or even moving. It was his uncle. 

Lloyd was terrified. His uncle was an older Japanese guy in his seventies, and Lloyd was, well, trans. Wu had never even met him, but surely, he’d been told about Lloyd’s gender when he was born. And if he hadn’t, he’d find out when Dareth handed over the radioactive medical papers. Aside from that, who knew how religious or superstitious the guy was? What if he found Lloyd’s eyes freaky and unnatural too? 

Lloyd knew that something like his eyes was an immature and self-centered thing to get so worked up about, but he couldn’t help it. He was scared of being judged, or worse, turned away when Wu found out about the trans thing. Somehow, being judged for his eyes was more acceptable. 

Lloyd opened his mouth, ready to say as much to Dareth, who already knew and didn’t care, but a sudden honk from behind them interrupted the moment, and he clamped his mouth shut.  

“No. Nothing. I’m fine.” 

Dareth’s face fell, but he nodded anyways and kept driving.  

After a tense few minutes, Dareth spoke up again. “This song,” he whistled, faux-casual, “you know, they played it at all the dances in my day.” 

Lloyd grimaced. “Wow... cool...” 

“Yep! Ol’ Dareth here knows a thing about the hip, pop songs of the day!” Dareth said. There was more of that hopelessly self-unaware behavior. Lloyd cringed, both internally and externally.  

“Well, it’s actually pretty... hip... to just listen to music on car rides,” Lloyd tried, desperate to end the conversation.  

Dareth raised an eyebrow. “Really? Supposed folks talked on trips-” 

“Yeah, well, they don’t. They listen to music and ignore each other,” Lloyd snapped, shoving his earbuds in, thoroughly worn out socially. “Which is what I’m doing now.” He turned up his music as loud as it would go and pointedly ignored Dareth for the rest of the drive, trying not to think about anything at all. 

__ 

They pull up into Jamanakai Village over two hours later. The barren highway slowly transforms into lush green lawns and cozy, old-timey cobblestone streets. Townhouses frame the old-fashioned roads, and cozy storefronts capitalize on the walkable structure. 

Lloyd hates it. 

He misses the city already; the ever-present noise, the irritating smog, the light pollution and neighbors as perpetually grouchy and rude as he is. This town feels unbearably small and quiet, the kind of place where everyone knows everyone and their grandmothers.  

Worse, the most exciting thing he sees on their slow roll down the streets is a movie rental that has definitely seen better days. There’s going to be nothing to even do here. 

The car rolls to a stop at an empty stop sign, and Lloyd takes out his earbud, looking out the window.  

“That’s where you might be goin’,” Dareth says, chuckling. “Small, isn’t it?”  

The high school is the smallest school Lloyd’s ever seen in his life. It’s a single story and doesn’t take up half the space of his school in Ninjago City. And, he gets it; city schools are way bigger than itty-bitty town schools. But this is ridiculous.  

Lloyd scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I won’t be here long enough to enroll anyways,” he says with as much bitter conviction as he can muster. Like if he doesn’t say it like he believes it, it won’t be true.  

And Lloyd really, really doesn’t want to go to school here. 

If he thought his old high school was bad, in the city, what will a tiny school like this be like? Where everyone’s known everyone else since kindergarten, and gossip spreads like wildfire? He wouldn’t just be the new kid – he'd be the new kid with freakish ghoul eyes.  

No, thank you. 

Dareth hums in response, looking uncertain, and they keep driving.  

As they pull into a more suburban looking area, Lloyd takes out his earbuds entirely. It’s cozy, he has to admit. The old-fashioned street lights have begun to flick on, illuminating the sidewalks in friendly orange light.  

Not as pretty as the city, though. 

Dareth pulls into the driveway of a strange-looking townhouse. It’s three stories of dark brick and wood, and the front is advertising “Steepers Wisdom”. 

“God,” Lloyd mutters, his mood steadily dropping. “How fucking stereotypical can this guy get?” 

Seriously, a seventy-year-old Japanese uncle running a tea shop? What, is he secretly a ninjitsu master too?  

He knows he’s being unfair, but he doesn’t care. He just wants to go home. 

Dareth puts the car in park and groans as he steps out, joints popping. “Alright, kiddo! You grab your stuff from the trunk.” 

Lloyd shoves his phone in the pocket of his hoodie and loops around to the trunk, where he has his grand total of a single suitcase. Dareth had insisted on him packing more – his books, action figures, posters – but Lloyd didn’t see the point in packing anything but his wardrobe. He wouldn’t be here long enough to decorate, anyways. 

Lloyd grimaces as he looks back at the townhouse/tea shop. Yeah, definitely not.  

He’d call Mom again tonight. When she heard about him being stuck with his estranged uncle, she’d be home as soon as possible, and he’d get to leave.  

The idea lifts his mood, just a little. It helps to remind himself that this is all temporary.  

He hauls his green suitcase from the trunk, meeting Dareth at the front steps. His social worker is leafing through a file, and smiles at Lloyd. “Ready, kiddo?” 

“Yeah, whatever,” Lloyd mumbles, shoving his free hand in his pocket. It’s starting to get chilly out as summer wanes. If nothing else, he wants to get back into a heated building. Lloyd’s always gotten cold way too easy, and he hates it. 

Dareth rings the doorbell, and a few seconds later, it opens. 

As it turns out, Lloyd’s uncle can be even more stereotypical. His uncle is wearing a traditional white haori, cinched at the waist, and an off-white nagagi underneath. He wears simple light brown pants that strangely poof at the bottom, and sandals with socks.  

And he has the longest pure white beard ever, and wears a huge rice hat over his likely bald head.  

Wu’s eyes widen in surprise (didn’t he know they were coming...?) before he smiles, strained. “Oh, Mr. Dareth! It’s good to meet you,” he holds out a wrinkled hand for Dareth to shake.  

Dareth smiles warmly. “Hello, Mr. Garmadon, you too.” 

“Please, call me Wu,” his uncle insists, opening the door further to wave them inside. “Please, come inside.” 

Lloyd awkwardly smiles as he passes his uncle, but he’s sure it comes out as more of a grimace. Wu is similarly strained. When he turns around, Lloyd finds that he has a pure white braid that goes past his shoulders. 

Inside, Steepers Wisdom is... boring. There’s a counter, behind which is a huge wall of different tea bags and a large menu, and the rest of the limited space is taken up by thrifted couches and coffee tables. At least there’s cozy lighting? 

Lloyd’s thoughts drift to his own fairy lights back in his bedroom, and he sours again.  

Lloyd plops down on the nearest overstuffed couch, sinking into the cushions glumly. Dareth sits down next to him, spreading his papers over the coffee table. Wu, thankfully, takes the hint and sits down across from them.  

“I apologize,” Wu says, “I didn’t prepare anything. I hope the two of you ate?” 

“Oh, no problem,” Dareth says, “got the kid some fast food on the way. Now, here I’ve got Lloyd’s medical papers...” 

Lloyd lets his thoughts drift as the adults talk over his head. His gaze lazily roams the tea shop, taking in the details. It’s decorated very traditionally, with several Japanese paintings taking up the walls.  

Personally, Lloyd had never really connected with any of his Japanese heritage. His father was Japanese, but his mom was Vietnamese, and given that she’s the one who raised him (duh), he was always exposed more to that side than anything else. Even then, his mom’s parents had immigrated when she was young, and Lloyd ended up without much exposure to the culture at all. It didn’t help that Mom was never interested in teaching him anything. He knew like, two words of Vietnamese.  

Lloyd’s attention drifted back to the conversation the next time they said his name.  

“And, given that he’ll be here for the foreseeable future, you should probably go ahead and start enrollment.” 

“What?” Lloyd sat up before Wu could respond, and the attention shifted to him. “Why do I have to go to school? I’m already enrolled at Ninjago High!” 

Dareth got that look on his face, the one that meant that he was pitying Lloyd. Lloyd bristled, growing even more defensive.  

“Well, kiddo, we don’t know when your mom will be back,” Dareth said sympathetically. He reached out a hand to put on Lloyd shoulder, but thought better of it at Lloyd’s murderous glare. “You might be here a while, so it’s better to just go ahead and get you back into school.” 

Wu nodded, speaking directly to Lloyd for the first time. “He’s right,” he said, and Lloyd swallowed back the angry retort. What the hell did Wu know about his mom? Nothing, that’s what.  

“Fine,” he snapped venomously, “whatever, I don’t give a shit.” 

Dareth shot Wu an apologetic look. “Ah, sorry Mr. Wu, he’s just had a long day...” 

“It’s quite alright,” Wu waved him off, unfazed.  

Lloyd glowered as harshly as he possibly could in Wu’s direction. He didn’t care what Wu said – he was determined not to like the guy on principle. Mom would be furious that he was here, so he would be furious too.  

If no one else would be on her side, Lloyd would be.  

He fought the urge to yell again when Wu kept talking. “...and I was told there was a bit of a hoarding situation...” 

There was not. The social workers were fucking convinced that Mom was some sort of hoarder that belonged on one of those shitty reality shows, but it wasn’t like they had mice or roaches. Mom just had trouble keeping all her stuff organized – it wasn’t her fault their apartment was so small! And Lloyd liked the clutter anyways – it made the place feel lived in.  

Apparently, a little too lived in for CPS. 

Slowly, the adults wrapped up the conversation. Wu signed a few papers, and Dareth handed over Lloyd’s social security, birth certificate, and medical records. Then, he turned to face Lloyd.  

“Alright kiddo, I gotta get going,” he said. He pulled a small card from a pocket on his shirt, holding it out to Lloyd. “Here, my number. Don’t be afraid to call, ‘kay? I’m here for you anytime you need.” 

Lloyd hesitated, but eventually took the dumb card anyway. “Thanks,” he mumbled. He really wanted to ask if Dareth really thought he would be here long enough for school and doctor appointments, but he didn’t. He already knew the answer anyway.  

Dareth clapped Lloyd on the shoulder and stood. “I’ll be back later this month for a wellness check! Keep up those grades, Lloyd!” With that, he brushed out the door.  

Lloyd fidgeted awkwardly as he was left alone with his uncle, who also seemed unsure of what to do.  

Finally, Wu cleared his throat. “It’s nice to meet you... Lloyd.” 

Lloyd stiffened. Of course, Wu didn’t recognize his name. He was probably just waiting to see how Lloyd reacted to it before he whipped out some crazed nonsense about ‘the youth these days’... 

Lloyd instantly became defensive, straightening. “Yeah, Lloyd,” he spat, trying to sound more confident than he was. “Mom doesn’t have a problem with it.” 

“Of course not,” Wu said, holding up his hands to placate him. “It’s just, when they called... I wasn’t sure- that is, I did some reading on the subject-” 

Oh. Lloyd’s shoulders fell a little as he lost his momentum. Wu was just sort of oblivious.  

Deciding to put the poor old man out of his misery, Lloyd interrupted. “Uh, yeah. I’m trans, it’s whatever. He/him.” 

Wu looked visibly relieved, untensing. “Of course. Anyways, it's late,” he cleared his throat again, standing. “I took the liberty of preparing your room.”  

Lloyd wondered where he was hiding a bedroom, but it became obvious when Wu led him through the back of the kitchen where a few chairs and boxes collected dust, and a staircase led to another floor.  

“You’re the attic,” Wu said, oblivious to Lloyd’s growing dread at having to lug a suitcase up four stories. “Come on, then.”  

On the way up, Lloyd gets a peek at the layout of the house. The second floor, above the shop, is home to smaller kitchenette and living room, where the third floor is the laundry room and Wu’s bedroom, which his uncle points out. “In case you need me,” he says. Lloyd knows he won’t. 

Finally, Lloyd gets to the attic. Wu pulls down a wooden ladder from the hatch in the roof, and Lloyd nearly breaks his neck shoving his suitcase up. He’s suddenly extremely glad he only brought the suitcase and his shoulder bag.  

Wu follows him into the room, having done nothing to assist with the suitcase. Stupid old man and his stupid old man bones.  

Lloyd surveys the room with mild interest. The ceiling is slanted inward on all sides, with a completely flat top. He tries to picture it from the outside – sloped sides, with a flat top and railing. There’s a short loft, big enough for a bed and nightstand, and a smaller hatch that leads up to the roof. Aside from that, the attic is fairly spacious, if not old fashioned. He turns in a circle, eyeing the giant window that he’s definitely throwing a curtain over the second he can.  

The room is empty except for an old wooden wardrobe, a writing desk, a bed with green and black covers underneath the loft, and a short nightstand. A paper lamp stands beside the bed. 

“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” Wu offers from behind, previously being content to let Lloyd take in the attic himself. “If you’d like, we can of course go shopping for decorations. Perhaps some posters?” 

Lloyd shrugs, rolling his suitcase next to the bed. He sits down, feeling the soft mattress curve beneath him. The covers were recently washed.  

“It’s nice,” Lloyd lies, just to get Wu out. His uncle doesn’t go. Instead, he sits on the stool beside the desk.  

“I have some old tapestries,” Wu says, like Lloyd wants anything else but to sleep. “They might make the space nicer.” 

Lloyd suddenly feels a deep sense of anger. Why is Wu acting like either of them want him here? Like Lloyd is staying here for any longer than a few more days?  

It’s not like Wu actually gives a shit. He’s a seventy-year-old man running a business. He never had kids, or a spouse for that matter. All Lloyd is doing for him is fucking up his whole routine and costing him extra money. And all he’s doing for Lloyd is pissing him off. 

“Look, man,” Lloyd says, not bothering to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “You don’t have to act like you care, okay? I don’t want to be here and you don’t want me here. You can cut the,” he waves his hand vaguely, “whole ‘caring uncle’ shtick.” 

Wu looks taken aback, straightening in the chair. “I am sorry you feel that way,” he says evenly, “but I do care, Lloyd.” 

“You didn’t even know my name before today,” Lloyd snaps back, not bothering to acknowledge that Wu couldn’t possibly have known Lloyd’s chosen name. It feels like a good enough comeback. “Admit it, you didn’t even recognize me.” 

“Lloyd, I want to make this transition easy for you,” Wu says, ignoring Lloyd’s comment. “I’m trying to get to know you.”  

Lloyd scoffed, glaring hard. The covers bunch up in his fists. “Well, I don’t want you to. I won’t be here long enough for it to matter.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“I do,” Lloyd insists. Wu sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Lloyd takes satisfaction in it. Maybe, maybe, if he can make Wu mad enough, he can leave. It’s a small hope. 

“You’re tired and stressed,” Wu says, standing. “I’ll let you sleep. Tomorrow, we can see about getting you some decorations.” 

The thin thread of patience in Lloyd’s chest snaps. When is someone going to listen to him?! 

“When are you going to get it?” He bites, standing from the bed. Wu’s gaze hardens. “I don’t fucking like you. I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to talk to you, and I don’t give a shit about this stupid fucking attic!” 

“Lloyd Garmadon!” Wu reprimands as Lloyd’s voice rises to a yell. Lloyd clamps his mouth shut, glaring as venomously as he can. Wu doesn’t care, glaring right back. “I understand that you are stressed and exhausted, but I will not tolerate the disrespect! As long as you are under my roof, using my facilities, you will respect me, or I will teach you to!” 

Lloyd bares his teeth. “What, is that supposed to be a fucking threat? Get this through your rotted, dementia-riddled brain,” Lloyd jabs the side of his head as emphasis, stalking toward Wu, stopping only a foot away. “I don’t give a shit! There is nothing you can say to me to make me like you!” 

Wu stands up straighter, literally looking down at his nephew. “You don’t have to like me,” he says cooly, “but you will respect me, unless you’d like to be working in the shop every day after school, and every weekend until close for the remainder of your stay here.” 

Lloyd recoils. “Fuck you,” he spits. “When Mom gets back, she’ll sue the hell out you.” 

She won’t. She’ll be mad as hell, and probably yell at Wu a lot, but she won’t spend any more time thinking about him than she has to. He doesn’t feel like telling Wu that, though.  

“You’re just some fucking relative I’ve never met,” Lloyd continues. He suddenly has this urge to make Wu know how much he hates this. The lack of control he has, the anger he feels at everyone tugging him around without his say-so. He knows that Wu’s barely even done anything, but he’s the closest punching bag. 

Mom says he gets the anger issues from dad. Makes sense – whenever Lloyd thinks about the guy, he wants to track him down and scream until his face goes blue. Wu makes him feel the same way now. 

Wu shakes his head, like Lloyd is a particularly disappointing mess. “Goodnight, nephew,” he says, and leaves back down through the hatch. Lloyd kicks it closed behind him, screaming incoherently.  

“And stay the fuck out!” 

He falls back into the bed, curling up on his side. Now that Wu is gone, the silence begins to set it. Outside, a stray branch taps against the window.  

It’s so quiet here. The city is always screeching and honking. Lloyd doesn’t think he can fall asleep here without that white noise.  

He pulls up his phone, squinting as the blue light lights up his face in the dark. Still nothing from Mom.  

Against his better judgement, he leaves a voicemail. “Hey, Mom,” he mumbles, glancing out the window. He hadn’t really noticed before, but it’s a bay window. He always wanted one of those. “I’m stuck at Wu’s house. He’s a giant asshole,” he ignores the fact that he’s the one who initiated the argument, “I want to go home,” no, he doesn’t. He just wants to be wherever she is. “But I know you’ll be back soon. Just... maybe a little sooner? I hate this. I want to catch up on our shows soon.” 

Never mind that she hadn’t watched anything with him for months before she left.  

“Bye,” he mumbles, suddenly out of energy. He hangs up and kicks off his shoes, letting them fly in either direction, and shoves his earbuds in. There’s no way he’s sleeping tonight.  

He hates this place, Lloyd decides, glaring out the dumb bay window he always wanted. His black sclera shine in the dark, reflecting the green moon. 

[rotationalsymmetry]

Time to go off about feminism a bit!

Feminist goals:

Not being legally barred from certain jobs

Not being discriminated against for being a woman in certain jobs (ie can theoretically get the job but it's much harder or pays worse or gets less respect)

Addressing glass ceiling and old boy's club stuff, ie barriers to women getting into leadership positions specifically (girlboss feminism is a legitimate branch of feminism, sorry)

Stuff related to abusive relationships and sexual violence: divorce stuff, custody stuff, shelters, laws around domestic violence and sexual assault, awareness raising, bystander intervention, access to appropriate recovery support, raising kids to be able to recognize dangerous situations and to value consent. As part of this: sex ed in schools

Reproductive freedom (abortion access, access to contraception, not being forcibly sterilized or otherwise prevented from having children)

Motherhood stuff: gender roles suck, but gender roles for parents suck BALLS. Generous parental leave for mothers and fathers, getting schools to address permission slips etc in gender neutral ways and not assume mothers should be called when there's a problem with a child by default, child support enforcement/getting enough money when the child support can't be gotten, programs for people raising children in poverty (usually but not always women), flexibility at work, being able to get health insurance when working less than full time, good public schools, good child care. Addressing social norms that result in women doing more chores, parenting labor, and emotional labor than men even when working about the same amount.

Sex stuff that isn't sexual violence stuff: good sex ed, information about women's sexuality, addressing social stigma around women (including but not limited to queer women) who don't do sex stuff the "normal" way.

Sex worker rights: this is a huge split within feminism, but the right position is treating sex work problems as a labor issue, rather than further criminalizing sex workers or clients. (Side note: most human trafficking is for manual labor, not sex work, and lots of sex workers have not been trafficked. Sex work and trafficking are not equivalent.)

Medical stuff: challenging seeing male bodies as the default for things like signs of a heart attack (no seriously look into this; tons of medical studies only study men but treat the results as applicable to women too), challenging the dismissal and minimization of women's pain and other symptoms, challenging the tendency of doctors to write off women's physical problems as psychological in nature (and also not treating psychological problems seriously).

Other male default stuff: did you know that historically crash test dummies were designed to mimic the height and weight of the average man? In certain jobs, equiptment comes in sizes that fit men more comfortably than women.

Intersectionality: the ways in which class, race, queer and trans stuff, disability, culture/religion, and nationality affect women's experiences and options and what problems women want to see solved. (Aaaand I just realized I've been saying women this whole time, and that while of course that includes trans women, who are women, I don't really mean to exclude non-binary people, regardless of agab... or really trans men either... fuck. Anyways. Gender complicated. Feminism complicated. Broad umbrella good.)

And yeah, we can put things like free the nipple and what if I want to dress masc on here, no problem, but the key thing is that the main pressure shouldn't be on what women choose, which is up to us, it should be on whether society SUPPORTS, or at least is not actively hostile to, all the choices women might make or not. (Society includes women, so this does put an onus on women, but the onus is at the point of "how does this women treat women who make certain choices about their own lives" not "which choices is she making about her own life, which is up to her.") What women choose (how we dress, how we handle our sex lives and relationships and reproductive choices, what decisions we make about education and career stuff, how we handle health stuff (or don't)) should be up to us, and should be supported at least to the same degree that men are supported for the same decisions.

What I mean is: I do in fact thing that women should be able to wear heels if they want, be homemakers if they want and can find a partner to do that with, have very basic trad-y lives if they want, even though there's a sort of herd effect where women making the opposite choices have an easier time of it if more women are doing that. That women should have the right to abortion but not an obligation to end an inconvenient pregnancy. That feminism does not put obligations on women to live our lives to others' standards, whatever those standards are. And you know what?

I want men to be able to do those things too. To wear heels if they want. To be stay at home parents if they want and can get their lives to work out that way. (Many do actually!) That men should get to run their relationships and sex lives however they want, including having a lot of casual sex if they want. That men should have the ability to fuck all the way away from normal jobs if they want. (Or at least complain about having to have a normal job.) To go "ugh, this world is too much for me I hate it, I want to bake cupcakes instead."

I wouldn't mind the "choice feminism" discourse so much if the people complaining about choice feminism talked about abortion rights or workplace discrimination or family leave or any of the many, many other feminist issues more. But going "ugh choice feminism sucks, no it's not feminist to wear makeup" ultimately does just as little for giving women assistance in escaping bad relationships or narrowing the pay gap as "makeup is totally feminist because it's my choice to wear it." I'd say who fucking cares, but I care! I think women should get to wear makeup AND should get to not wear makeup!

So. Let's talk about endometriosis. Let's talk about universal basic income. Let's talk about gender affirming care. Let's talk about immigration. Let's talk about violence against indigenous women. Anything but discourse that supports the idea that feminism is primarily about passing judgement on an individual woman's commitment to feminism based on how she looks.

And let's talk about the barriers to women -- and ALL people -- doing exactly what we want to do, and how to tear them all down.