#end up looking pretty fucking stupid decades later

[severalowls]

I love when somebody writes about something as "the rise and fall of [thing]" but the thing is still like, fine. If anything it's still rising, maybe more than ever, but the author doesn't like that very much.

[lovebugism]

Okay maybe Eddie bought a silly couple costumes for himself and r (something cute with “Why aren’t you wearing a costume?” and “I’m not wearing that.”) 🩷

ty for requesting lovie! happy fictober! ily! — eddie buys you a costume you don't feel pretty enough to wear and the gang crashes your cuddling session (hints of smut, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 2.5k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Your bare bodies stick together beneath a decade-old quilt. Eddie’s nice enough to let you use his lanky bicep as a makeshift pillow while you cuddle on the couch. His other hand hovers over your face, smoothing out the subtle furrow between your brows with the pad of his thumb.

“What’s this face for, huh?” he singsongs into the heavy, golden, post-sex silence of the trailer. His smile is swollen and crooked and barely there. It’s a very hushed sunshine compared to your distant pout.

“‘Cause I still feel bad,” you confess, voice so soft it’s nearly inaudible. Your feet knock with Eddie’s when your anxious legs entwine with his. “I made you miss that movie.”

“You didn’t make me miss shit,” Eddie laughs, assertive but not unkind. His warm palm spreads over your cheek. His chocolate eyes dance between both of yours. “I stayed in ‘cause I wanted to, alright? I wanted to spend time with you.”

“You called me a succubus,” you tease with a gentle giggle.

He had, though he doesn’t have much recollection of it. You looked far too pretty underneath him, and he’d been far too close to his orgasm. 

His hips rutted sloppily against yours, his rhythm gone totally stupid after feeling you gush around him. “Fuck— oh, fuck,” he babbled into the sticky skin of your neck, voice tighter and higher than usual. “You’re a goddamn succubus, you know that, baby? Pussy’s so good… I’d fucking— I’d do anything you wanted me to— shit.”

His legs are still numb from the mind-blowing climax he had a moment later.

Eddie’s chuckle is louder and more boyish than yours. It fills the trailer with sunlight. “Well, yeah. ‘Cause you are. Which means I’d much rather be here with you than at The Hawk with all those other schmucks.”

He kisses you to seal his promise — a chaste peck upon your smiling mouth. It’s beautifully innocuous compared to how good he was making you feel hardly more than five minutes ago.

“I know you don’t like those movies anyway, so…”

“That’s not true,” you argue with a very believable pout.

His gaze goes sympathetic. “Babe… You almost cried when we watched Nightmare on Elm Street the other day.”

“No, I didn’t!” You most certainly did.

“You said you weren’t gonna sleep ever again.”

“I like horror movies ‘cause you like horror movies, dummy.”

The term of endearment makes him grin. He likes it when you get all mean, though you never really mean it. “Is that so?” he lilts with raised brows that disappear behind his fuzzy bangs. The ends of the umber strands are damp with sweat.

You nod lazily against his arm. His fingers are starting to tingle with numbness, but he loves you too much to move.

“Mm-hmm. That’s how relationships work. Compromise. I tolerate horror movies, and you tolerate—”

“Your Harrison Ford obsession?”

You lose your firmness and get all sheepish. “Shut up…”

“I’m pretty sure they were showing Return of the Jedi in the theater over, right after Sleepaway Camp,” Eddie observes suddenly, brushing stray strands of your wild hair from your temple. “We coulda had a double feature tonight, but you wanted to stay in with little old me.”

“That’s ‘cause I love you a whole lot more than some guy I’ve never met.”

Eddie beams at your words. His eyes start to glitter like he’s won something, and his cheeks speckle pink with pride. He’ll never get tired of hearing you say that. He’ll never get tired of you loving him.

“I’m flattered,” he singsongs and means it.

You smile and lean in to kiss his grin. The boy gasps before you can. He springs up from the couch at a moment’s notice, climbing over you with naked limbs. He flashes you his bare ass just before he tugs on the crumbled pair of boxers left forgotten on the floor.

“What are you doing?” you wonder aloud, eyes narrowed in curiosity and mouth quirked in amusement. You twist on the couch so you’re propped against the back of it. You clutch the heavy quilt to your naked chest.

“I forgot something,” Eddie mumbles, halfway to himself, then sends you a lighthearted glare over his shoulder. “Don’t move!”

You still, grinning softly at the boy as you peer at him from beneath your lashes. You watch him while he rifles through a plastic bag beside the TV stand. “I got us something while I was at the Halloween store with Harrington earlier,” Eddie explains over the noisy crinkling sound.

“Oh, god…” you murmur.

Eddie laughs and looks at you over his shoulder again. “C’mon, babe. Have a little hope, would you?”

He returns to the couch with a smirk and something he hides behind his back. He grins like a kid when he reveals them to you — two packages of Star Wars themed costumes held in both his hands. 

Pictured on one is a guy who looks eerily like Han Solo — complete with the vest, blouse, and holster triad. The other is an uncanny Leia Organa in a skin-tight white suit, beige knee-high boots, and a flowing cape.

You blink at both of them, then at Eddie. 

“…I don’t know what I’m looking at.”

“Our Halloween costumes!” he exclaims with a beam. “See, I’m gonna be Han Solo— ‘cause I’m, you know, charming and sarcastic and handsome.”

“Don’t forget humble,” you joke with a lovesick grin.

“—And you will be my beautiful, hard-headed Leia Organa.”

You glance again at the package in his right hand, at the pretty woman on the cover. You know you won’t look nearly as good in the costume as she does. Your soft smile flickers. 

“Eds…” you mutter in a wavering lilt.

A frown forms between his bushy brows, similar to the one you’d been sporting earlier. “What?”

“I told you I wasn’t gonna dress up this year, remember?” you remind him, shifting awkwardly on the couch and clutching the blanket closer to yourself.

“But it’s Halloween, babe! Why wouldn’t you wear a costume?”

Your mouth opens and closes as you stammer out an excuse. “Because— I don’t know— I’m too… indecisive. Like, that’s a lot of pressure.”

“That’s why I picked for you!” Eddie grins, totally oblivious.

You laugh. It’s a bit cynical but not totally unkind. “I am not wearing that.”

He pouts, like a child or a hurt puppy. “But why not?” he wonders with a crestfallen inflection.

Again, you stammer. “Because— I mean— Just look at her, Eds!” you gesture to the package he holds with a significant focus to the girl on the front. “I don’t look like her!”

He grows from sad to confused. His brows pinch as he tilts his head to the side. His wild curls tickle his bare, pale shoulder. “Oh… kay?” he mutters, trying his best to understand you but not getting it completely.

You huff. Your chest stings as you explain it all to him.

“I’m… I’m not gonna look like the girl on the cover. You know that, right? I’m not— I’m not Princess Leia kind beautiful, you know?”

“Yeah,” Eddie shrugs, seemingly agreeing with you and smiling all over again. “You’re a you kind beautiful. That’s what makes you so damn sexy.”

He leans down over you with the intention to kiss you. 

Still pouting and inwardly aching, you pull back from him.

“Eddie…” you murmur, still gentle but obviously sadder.

He concedes with a small sigh. The couch cushions dip with his weight when he sits down beside you. He leaves the packages abandoned on the other side of him and gives you his full attention. 

“Look… You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, alright? We can stay in for Halloween for all I care. I just… I think it’d be a lot of fun, you know?” the boy rambles with a seriousness that’s typically foreign to him. His palm smooths across your knee over the thick quilt. His lips quirk into a crooked grin. “And I think you’d look… very pretty as my Princess Leia.”

His chocolate eyes twinkle with an undeniable sincerity. It makes your chest feel so warm it burns.

“Yeah?” you mumble, not quite believing him but wanting him to hear him say it anyway.

“Totally,” he scoffs like it’s obvious. He presses a lingering peck to your lips, then melts when he tastes leftover sex upon them. 

A switch flips within him then. His belly twists, and his eyelids get all heavy. His smirk is weighed down by lust as he pulls back from you and shrugs. “I think I could show you better than I could tell you, actually…”

Across the living room, the door busts open. 

Sunlight explodes throughout the dim trailer, making the two of you squint. 

Steve enters first, knocking on the open door to announce his arrival. “Phone’s off the hook,” he observes, pointing to the telephone lying face up on the table beside the front door. 

Eddie had two fingers inside you, and the thing just wouldn’t stop ringing. He grumbled in annoyance when he had to part from you to hang it up.

Steve puts the thing back on the hook while Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle walk in behind him.

Mortified, you watch with wide eyes as your uninvited friends file in. Your grip tightens around the blanket. You use one hand to make sure every inch of your naked body is covered with it.

Eddie doesn’t seem nearly as bothered by it as you are. Instead, he huffs in annoyance and spreads his arms along the back of the couch. They were the ones barging in, after all. If they had a problem with his pale, lanky figure and his thin, plaid boxers, then that was on them.

“Oh. Come in,” he hums, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. “Make yourselves at home.”

Robin’s got a thousand-year stare in her eye and a blue, red, and purple mouth. “Can I use your bathroom?” she wavers, voice strained. Her fists are clenched beneath her baggy flannel. They tremble beside her baggier jeans.

“Uh, yeah. Knock yourself out.”

She’s already rushing down the hall before he can get the words out.

The two of you watch her leave and then turn to Steve. He’s an expert in all things Robin Buckley nowadays. He shrugs and tells you, “She had, like, four slurpees while we were waiting on you guys at The Hawk.”

You shift awkwardly like you’re getting scolded. Eddie only laughs.

As all the gang settles around the trailer — Jonathan on the recliner, Nancy on the arm of it, and Steve sitting on the adjacent table — Argyle is the only one without a place to sit. He idles beside the couch, smiling at you with rosy lips and rosier eyes.

“How are you doing today, amigo?” he wonders with a curt nod, as mellow as ever.

You smile up at the boy, not nearly as fazed by the bright style and long raven hair as you used to be. Actually, you’ve grown quite fond of his slurred jokes that don’t really have a punchline because halfway through, he realizes he’s forgotten it entirely.

“Good,” you respond, crossing your arms over the quilt you’ve got bunched at your chest. “You?”

“I’m peachy, brochacho,” he nods back at you. He grins, but the bright expression is weighed down by the weed. The skunky smell entwines with his musky cologne, creating a deep earthy scene that’s much more bearable than the weed alone.

“Not that I’m not thrilled you guys showed up—” Eddie starts with an inflection that would imply otherwise, wide eyes flitting around the room. “—But what the hell are you doing here?”

“You’d know if you answered the phone,” Steve retorts with a scrunched nose, flipping through a random car magazine. The Beemer on the front matches the sunshine yellow of his sweatshirt.

“Well, I was a little busy, Harrington—”

You nudge Eddie before he can finish the stupid joke. Everyone could already hear it anyhow — “I was a little busy, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” 

He shoots you an innocently confused look. You give him a half-hearted glare in return.

“You guys flaked on movie night, so we brought the movies to you,” Nancy singsongs with a sweet, pink smile.

Jonathan unrolls the folded-up paper bag between his feet. The flimsy cardboard crackles loudly as he rifles through it. He pulls out a number of unblanketed VHS tapes with handwritten stickers glued to the front of them. 

“Uh… We got Sleepaway Camp, obviously,” the Byers boy mutters in his usual Byers way. He waves the tape in his hand and sits it off to the side. He reaches into the bag and grabs two more. “Twilight Zone and, uh, Return of the Jedi.”

Eddie is as grateful as he is confused. Movie night wasn’t totally gone, and both of your movies had been seemingly carrier-pigeoned to his trailer, but neither should be out on VHS yet. “How…?” the boy trails off with pinched-together brows.

Argyle answers. “Let’s just say I know a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy…” he smirks, then swirls his features in puzzlement. It looks like he’s trying to do math in his head. “…Who knows a guy.”

“I can pop some popcorn if you guys wanna, you know, make yourselves decent,” Steve teases with a feigned maliciousness as he hops off the square table. The old thing squeaks under his weight.

Eddie’s retort doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh. Right. My bad, Stevie. It’s not like you totally barged in on us or anything.”

You shake your head at their bickering, though you’re still smiling quietly to yourself. Eddie shields you while you rise from the couch. You wear the heavy quilt like a dress as you shuffle down the hallway to his bedroom. The thing trails behind you as you go.

“Sorry about them, sweetheart,” Eddie apologizes as soon as the door clicks closed. 

He’d wanted to say something earlier, but kept his mouth shut instead of making it a bigger deal. He knew you were bound to be embarrassed — because you almost always tend to be, anyway. He didn’t want to draw attention to the situation, or least of all to you, and make it that much worse.

“’S okay,” you shrug and drop the blanket on the carpet. 

Eddie tries not to go all teenage boy at the sight of your naked body, but he nearly loses his mind when you bend over to pick up one of his t-shirts from the floor. 

“We did sorta flake on them,” you reason as you tug the cotton over your head. The baggy fabric falls over you like rain.

Eddie shakes his head, mostly at himself. He couldn’t love you more if he tried.

“Only you would blame yourself when those assholes walked in on us,” he laughs, walking the short distance to you and wrapping you in his arms from behind. He presses a sweet kiss to your neck. You smell like flowers, sex, and his cologne. 

“You’re too sweet for your own good, baby. No wonder those schmucks won’t leave us alone.”

Robin’s voice seemingly comes from within the walls — ‘cause the bathroom is only one room over, and the walls are especially thin. “Rude!” she grouses, voice muffled. “I mean, it’s true, but still.”

[ohdeerfully]

Mutual Dilemma (ii)

Alastor x Reader part i part ii(you are here!) TW: None! Other than a pretty ooc alastor (,:

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Morning couldn’t come slower as you anticipated the trip to Rosie’s Emporium. You managed to get a few licks of sleep throughout the night, though nerves kept waking you. As soon as the time was reasonable, not too early as you worried to bother Rosie if you came right as she opened her shop, you quickly got ready and left the Hotel. You gave brief excuses as you hurried by Charlie and a few of the other guests lingering in the lobby—Alastor was notably gone.

“Welcome t- Oh! Hey you!” Rosie’s thrilled voice filled the Emporium as a light bell dingled when you pushed the door open. She swept you up in a tight hug, trapping your arms uncomfortably against your sides as you breathlessly laughed and said your own greetings.

She held you out from herself, both hands firmly planted on your shoulders. You noticed a strange look in her expression—a light quirk in her brow and a sly curve to her smile that implied she knew something important.

“How lucky to see two of my dearest friends in the same 24 hours,” She sighed theatrically, and you knew she had to be referring to Alastor—just the demon you were here to talk to her about. She was, unsurprisingly, able to pick up on your uncomfortable demeanor and her smile dropped into a comforting grin as she led you away to a table against the wall.

“Rosie,” You groaned after sitting, putting your forehead against the cool wood and covering your head with your arms. “I’m so fucked.”

The Overlord held one of your hands softly and comfortably, encouraging you to continue but remaining otherwise quiet.

“You’re going to call me nuts, and don’t worry I already know, but, I, ah,” You grimaced. Saying it out loud was somehow even harder than accepting it within yourself. “I think I really… really like Alastor. Like I want to kiss him.”

Rosie’s hand tightened briefly against yours and you heard her intake a sharp breath while her other hand flew to cover her mouth. You turned your head so your cheek was flat against the wood as you peeked up at her. You couldn’t tell if she was smiling or not behind her hand.

“An odd place to be, certainly,” She nodded after a minute, though a small smile remained. You released a breath when you were certain she wasn’t about to laugh at you or scold you for being so stupid as to be attracted to Alastor. She stood up, pulling you along so that you stood next to her. Her hand still held yours, lifting it and cusping her other hand around it. “These feelings are normal, I think. I mean, look at all the cannibals in town that constantly swoon over him! He’s positively charming—I couldn’t blame ya! Though I have… the strangest feeling you have nothing to worry about.”

What a weird thing to say, you frowned curiously at her words, but your thoughts were cut short as you saw her expression perk with an idea she refused to share. You didn’t like when she got that sly look in her black eyes.

“I have a few errands to run, but why don’t you meet me for lunch later? At the diner down the street.”

You nodded and the two of you shared another hug before you left. You crossed your fingers the whole way back to the hotel that you wouldn’t run into Alastor.

◈

Right, that’s what ended you up here. It seems crossing your fingers means absolutely nothing in Hell. You stood frozen, hand violently clenched into a fist against your thigh. Across from you, just a few feet past the wire table, stood Alastor, a similarly shocked look in his eyes though he somehow managed to look more relaxed. You pinned it on the decade of manipulation in Hell that trained him to look so natural in weird situations.

“What an unexpected pleasure to see you here,” Within a blink he was back to his usual demeanor, approaching you with a pleasant tone; the radio effect in his voice was heavier than usual, which you knew was usually caused by stress or frustration on his part. You decided not to think too hard about the fact he was upset at seeing you in a desperate attempt to protect your heart.

“I’m… I was gonna get lunch with Rosie,” You explained, trying not to cower underneath his looming figure. Did he do this on purpose? Loom? 

Alastor tilted his head at you, quirking a brow. “Curious, I was too.”

You both didn’t say anything for a moment. Your mouth opened to say something, but you honestly weren’t sure what to say so you just closed it again.

A familiar cannibal demon—you thought you recognized her as an aid in Rosie’s Emporium—bustled up to the two of you and threw out her arm, manicured nails nearly pinching holes into the paper. Her hands shook slightly as she held her head low, casting a few glances Alastor’s way. It was endearing, almost, the effect he held on all the equally deranged cannibals in the town. Though, you suppose you weren’t any better than them at this point.

“Thanks, Remi,” Her name came to you in a stroke of luck as you took the note. She nodded and scampered away with a light squeal, and you noticed a small huddle of girls waiting for her return with expectantly bated breaths. You heard them all run off giggling as you read the note.

“It’s from Rosie…” You explained in a slight mumble as your eyes trailed over the paper. Your lips spread into a thin line as you grimaced. You pinched your fingers against the bridge of your nose as you handed Alastor the note. Of course she’d do some shit like this. “She got caught up in something. I guess. She told us to hangout instead.”

Alastor hummed as he read through the note. He folded it neatly and tucked it away in a shirt pocket. 

“Well, seeing as I cleared some time in my schedule for this… I’ve nothing better to do.”

You nodded, agreeing with a similar statement. So much for girl-talk therapy.

You both approached the table and he, always the gentleman, pulled out the chair for you to sit before he took his own seat. The silence was unbearably awkward—for you, at least. He probably had no care in the world. There was a light hum rumbling from his throat, and he glanced around, watching the surroundings. Every time his eyes met yours, you would both quickly look another way.

You had noticed a few different waiters rush by your table, side-eyeing Alastor in particular before scrambling to, at least you assumed, find another waiter to cover the table. You sighed and idly played with a hole in the wire-mesh tabletop.

“So, how’s our dear Charlie’s new plan coming along?” Alastor finally decided to carry the weight of striking up a conversation and you perked up a bit. You loved to talk about Charlie and her ideas—you cherished her friendship and kindness with your whole being. Plus, you were also just excited to interrupt that painful silence.

“Oh! Good so far! At least, on paper,” You rubbed your arm sheepishly. You tried not to stumble over your words as you saw how intently he was watching you, red eyes almost glowing in intensity. “They… never really turn out as planned… as I’m sure you’ve noticed…”

He responded with a bitter laugh, and your shoulders suddenly felt less tense as a more natural flow of conversation started. It was still, obviously, a bit strange and there was still a sense of unease considering the nature of the Overlord you spoke to, but you nonetheless appreciated the relative ease of getting along with him.

A waiter came and went during your conversation, and you had to interrupt your laugh at a joke Alastor had made to order yourself a tea. Alastor got himself a coffee. 

“Would you look at the time,” Alastor suddenly said after you sipped on your drinks for a while. He didn’t carry a watch with him; instead, he had cast his face up to the sky and observed it was getting rather dark.

“Holy shit!” You looked at an actual watch, realizing the two of you had been chatting for ours. Your chest felt weightless and you held back a wide smile when you saw how long you were able to just sit and talk to Alastor. “Damn, yeah, Charlie’s probably worried by now.”

Alastor stood and, just as before, pulled out the seat for you as you stood. The two of you walked next to each other at a slower than natural pace, as if you both wanted to linger just a bit longer in each other’s presence—though, that was honestly probably just you. He was likely just being polite.

“Maybe it’s good our plans with Rosie didn’t go as… planned…” You said slowly, carefully, peeking at him from the corner of your eye. You were somewhat starting to doubt if he had equally enjoyed your time together, or if he was just playing along since he knew Rosie was keen on you.

“Agreed,” He simply responded. He was quiet for a beat before he continued. “Surprisingly I find your company quite enjoyable.”

You decided not to comment on the ‘surprisingly’ part and just flashed him a light smile before focusing your attention on the sidewalk, kicking at a rock with each step. It was silent again, but this time it was more comfortable. Alastor was humming again, and you felt a prickling of goosebumps as you listened to his voice.

You wished it could always be like this. You and him. Though you were certain that was an impossible reality—it was Alastor, after all. You tried not to think about it in order to enjoy the experience now.

A misplaced kick at the rock made you trip, and you mentally cursed yourself as you stumbled forward. How fucking embarrassing was this going to—your scrambled thoughts were interrupted when Alastor caught you, his surprisingly strong arm snug around your torso as he pulled you steady. 

A tight-lipped smile and a quiet “thanks” was all you could awkwardly do in return. It took you a moment to notice his arm was still around you, and once you looked down at it he seemed to realize this too and slid it away. Are you going crazy, or did he seem reluctant to let go? You wanted to smack yourself till your mind cleared, but the ghost feeling of his arm against you was sending a fire through your skin.

“You walk like a fresh-born fawn,” He joked, averting his face away from you as he straightened the cuff of his sleeve. “Watch where you step. I might not be able to catch you next time.”

You didn’t respond and just kept walking, face hot from shame after tripping over such a minor thing. Alastor now walked notably closer to you, his hand almost brushing against yours with every step. At some point the back of his hand did graze against your own, and had you not been expecting it you probably would’ve jumped. Alastor, on the other hand, did seem to stiffen at the contact but he didn’t move.

Finally the hotel was in sight, and before you knew it the Overlord was pushing open the door and offering you to enter first. He led you to your room and you both stood in the hallway, your own breath bated with anticipation as you rapidly tried to find something to say. You didn’t want this to just be a one-and-done deal.

Silence again.

It didn’t help that his eyes had a red glow in the dark of the silent hall—anybody else would find it intimidating, but… man… you felt your cheeks get a bit hot.

Did he just take a step closer? You honestly couldn’t tell, but the buzzing in your ears from his radio afflicted being seemed to grow in intensity and he seemed to be looming over you a bit more. There was a sinister look in his eyes, but you couldn’t tell if it was due to malice or… something else. You really couldn’t tell, but you couldn’t find yourself scared of him. 

Maybe you should be.

Something about being against the wall with the looming figure of the Radio Demon, who you honestly couldn’t tell if he just made another step closer, made you feel like prey being toyed with by a cruel hunter. You would be lying to yourself if you said it wasn’t thrilling.

“Maybe I can pencil in a regular lunch with you every week,” He said suddenly, breaking the growing tension. “Despite your average looks–” Okay, rude. “–you are quite the character.”

“Uh, yeah, I’d like that,” You said, averting your face to hide the growing heat on your skin that gave away your current mental state. If Alastor noticed, he made no indication of it as he clapped his hands together once.

“Well, then, goodnight!” He said, all too cheerfully given the atmosphere barely thirty seconds ago. “We can talk about it tomorrow.”

You nodded wordlessly before bidding him goodnight and reaching behind your back to turn the knob. You stumbled back into the empty space as you waved bye, him reciprocating with a small wave back, before shutting the door with a soft click. You pressed your forehead against the wood, quietly catching your breath you didn’t even realize had been held that whole exchange.

The aura of radio static seemed to linger at your door for a little longer than necessary, and you assumed Alastor was still standing there. It was maybe a minute before he finally left. Your legs felt weak and wobbly as you walked to your bed, falling face first into the sheets. You grabbed a fistful of pillow, screamed into it, and stood back up to get ready for bed.

A feeling of giddiness rose in your chest as you looked at your reflection, and you couldn’t help the grin that crept up your lips. You wouldn’t overthink it too much—you didn’t want to lead yourself astray—but… if you didn’t know any better… you could almost say Alastor felt at least a fraction of mutual feelings towards you.

You just hoped you wouldn’t screw it up.

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

Clone Wars headcanons that have been rotting in my google docs

I like to believe that Padme teaches Ahsoka how to make friendship bracelets and she treats it as something sacred and spends an unholy amount of time making some for the people she cares about 

Master Plo gets the first one, Obi-Wan gets the second, Rex Cody and a couple of their boys get some more, Padme of course gets one, and Anakin gets one last 

The reason he was the last to get one is something Ahsoka will never admit out loud but she honestly wanted to take her time with his

And because of that Anakin permanently has a work of art on his wrist like everyone’s is gorgeous but his is something else entirely  

He thanks her truly and honestly thanks her and promises to keep it forever 

When Ahsoka jokingly calls him for breaking the orders rules he comments back “When have we ever listened to those rules” 

He keeps his promise too that bracelet never leaves his person 

He’s lost clothes lightsabers and even a couple of prosthetics but he always makes sure to go back for that bracelet

He eventually repays the gift in kind with a bracelet of his own 

It’s not the best made or pretties thing but Ahsoka can feel the love that was put into it so she makes the same promise he did years ago and keeps it too 

When the twins are born Ahsoka makes them both friendship bracelets 

At first they are small enough for their tiny wrists but she adds onto them as they grow older 

Ahsoka tears up when she finds that they all kept the bracelets she never thought they’d toss them or anything but seeing them decades later does hit her hard because they’re all in perfect condition 

Padme loves to “kidnap” Ahsoka whenever they have the time 

She’ll just request her protection on a diplomatic mission 

Sometimes it is an actual mission but Padme will still make time to take them to her favorite restaurants or cafes so they can have a little bit of downtime

When the war ends the tradition continues even tho everyone knows Ahsoka’s not really there as a security escort 

I find the visual of Anakin and Padme telling Ahsoka, Obi-wan, and Rex they’re married fucking hilarious 

Both Obi-Wan and Rex would try to act like they’ve been fooled truly they do but it all kinda breaks when Ahsoka asks “Wait we weren’t supposed to know?” 

Anakin is just as confused when he asks “What do you mean Soka? How could you have known?” 

And that’s when Ahsoka just starts laughing hysterically and it doesn’t take long for Obi-Wan and Rex to join in when he asks again all Ahsoka says is “Really? Kriffing look at you two” and doesn’t add much else 

Both Luke and Leia try to replicate Ahsoka’s face markings with various levels of success 

They often ask their mom for help and she’s always happy to do so Ahsoka gets filled with unimaginable amounts of joy when she sees her niece and nephew trying to look just like her 

Anakin often jokes that of course he’s not the favorite even in his own home like she’s not the first name that comes up whenever babysitting is on the table 

It’s also not a surprise that both Ahsoka and Obi-Wan become the twin's space equivalent of godparents 

It seems like a necessary precaution all things considered 

Neither of them takes the role lightly but they also vow that it won’t be needed and they do everything in their power to make it so 

After most missions it is very rare for Anakin to let Ahsoka and Obi-Wan out of his sight 

Ahsoka never fights him on this and is perfectly happy to stay by his side and sleep in the living room like they often do 

Sometimes Obi-Wan is called away for a meeting with the council and can’t stay with the two but that doesn’t stop him from joining them later on in the night even if they’re asleep 

Anything beats sleeping in his cold desolate room after some of the more dangerous missions 

Sometimes they’ll go a step further and call Padme just to check in with her and have her on the line as they watch some stupid rom-com

After some of the rougher missions it wasn’t uncommon for Ahsoka to pass out due to the physical and mental strain 

It also wasn’t uncommon for Anakin to give her a piggyback ride back to the ship 

He finds that people shoot him less looks when he’s carrying his padawan instead of holding her in a death grip and not letting go until it’s time to leave 

A lot of people thought they’d grow out of this habit but no it’s a trend that stays throughout their lives 

It just so happens that Ahsoka grows tall enough to return the ongoing favor  

It also didn’t stop at the battlefield either 

Sometimes Anakin would find her passed out in the archives or he would get a message that she was asleep in a friend's room 

And he’d always go to get her because what’s he gonna do leave her there? 

Sometimes when Ahsokas babysitting the kids Anakin will find her in a position that Obi-Wan often told him about 

Sitting in front of the TV with the twins curled up at her side 

And while Padme deems it her job to carry the twins off to their room Anakin takes his long-time role of carrying Ahsoka to hers 

(Because if you think she wouldn’t have a room in their house you’re crazy) 

Anakin always knew Ahsoka would grow up that’s just a part of life and how the universe works 

But nothing can describe the feeling of her growing taller than him 

Envy isn’t what he feels no matter how much people suggest he does sadness isn’t either it’s something deeper than that 

Bittersweet is the closest word he could find because after all there���s nothing quite like watching your younger sibling grow up

[ladykailitha]

Sweet Home Indiana Part 3

Shit! I can't believe I forgot to post this this morning! I don't know where my head was, honestly.

I'm reaching a point where I'm running out of plot so I don't think this story is going to be longer than 10 chapters max. A lot of the second half of the movie takes place over months as the main character gets ready to marry the rich bachelor, only for her to find out that her husband signed the divorce papers and she forgot ON HER WEDDING DAY (as in she was informed on her wedding day that she forgot). Which really won't work for this story.

So yeah, I suspect to be finished with this story sooner rather than later.

Eddie does have to do a lot of grovelling but he unfortunately gets worse before he gets better. He's really REALLY dumb in this, okay?

Part 1 Part 2

****

Eddie watched Steve walk away and he gently put the brownie back into the box.

Fuck.

His stomach churned as he swallowed down the bite in his mouth. He had forgotten so much about the man he once swore to love until the end of his days. But he remembered that look of absolute betrayal before the mask dropped.

So Eddie did what he was good at when times got tough, he ran. He was supposed to have been trying to convince Steve to come with him, but he had fucked it up so badly there was no coming back from that.

The worst part is that there had been a few times in the last decade where Eddie could have healed what was between them, that he could have reached out and gotten back in touch. But Eddie had ran each time.

He wouldn’t say each time ended in a rushed marriage, but two of them definitely did.

Eddie would think about reaching out only to hear about how well Steve was doing from Dustin or Max and how happy he was and Eddie would run out a marry the first guy who would fuck him.

The other times he would think about contacting Steve and some small trouble (or not so small in the case of his band breaking up) would crop up and he be scrambling to keep his head above water.

Steve was thriving here in Hawkins and wasn’t that just a kick to the head. He had a little bakery that was doing well, Robin was here, and if all the times the kids called Eddie were any indication, Steve was still on speaking terms with all of them.

He needed a fucking drink. He didn’t care that it was only a little after noon, he needed to turn off his brain. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the bakery.

“I thought I recognized the van,” a warm voice said. “Were you gonna tell me you were in town?”

Eddie looked around before he spotted his Uncle Wayne, leaning up against the side of the building.

“Wayne!” he cried and threw his arms around his neck.

Wayne hugged him back. “It’s good to see you kid.”

“Of course I was going to tell you I was in town,” Eddie scoffed. “I was just trying to take care of something first.”

Wayne looked behind him at the bakery and raised an eyebrow. “You coming back to make an honest man out him or are you setting to break his heart?”

“Why are you on his side?” Eddie whined. “Yes, I said some pretty stupid shit, but he wasn’t blameless in all the fuckery that went down.”

Wayne’s expression softened. “I know.” He put his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “Come on, I’ll buy you lunch and we can talk about why you’re in town.”

“Mmk,” Eddie said weakly, letting Wayne lead him down the street to the nearby diner.

****

Steve was hyperventilating. He couldn’t do this. He wasn’t strong enough. Eddie Munson was the biggest asshole in the world and he still looked like sex on legs.

That funny little lopping walk he did when he wanted to move fast but didn’t want to run.

The long hair in waves around his face. His lean body stuffed into the tightest pair of jeans Steve had ever seen and he used to wear tight jeans for fuck’s sake. The god damn eyeliner on his big doe eyes.

And peaking out of the leather jacket were even more tattoos. Which it made sense considering he was some hot shot tattoo artist up in Seattle. But still! It wasn’t fair that the man who broke his heart wasn’t fat and balding at thirty. Nooooo...he had to come back to blue his balls as well as break his heart.

“Do I need to break his balls?” Robin asked coming back from the freezer. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared. Not at Steve specifically, but glared at the situation in general.

Steve gave a kind of hiccuping laugh and his lungs filled with the air he desperately needed.

“No,” he said with a broken smile. “I handled it. I’m just going to send it to Hal to make sure he’s not trying to take me to the cleaners or some other bullshit.”

Robin nodded. Hal Peterson was their business attorney, but he’d know enough to make sure Steve wasn’t being shafted by the whole ordeal.

“So what’s got you around the twist?” she asked.

“He looks hotter now than he did before he left,” Steve whined. “He’s supposed to balding and fat and falling apart at the seams. But no...he’s leaner, still with those long ridiculous curls, and better put together than I was.” He waved a hand at himself. His hair was greasy from standing around a hot oven, his hands and apron were covered in flour, he had frosting on his nose.

Robin came over and gave him a hug. He wrapped his arms around her and he let out a little sob.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” she murmured. “Are you going to be okay?”

He let out a shuddering sigh. “Probably not until he blows out of town again.”

Robin kissed the top of his head. “Let’s go out to the Hideout tonight. The shop will be fine. We handled today, we can handle tomorrow, too.”

Steve let out a shuddering sigh and nodded into her stomach.

“Good,” she stepped back and cupped his cheeks. “I know this sucks but you are the strongest, most capable person I’ve ever met. A weaker man would crumble under all this, but that person is not you. You understand me?”

He let out another shuddering sigh. “Thanks, Robs. I needed that.”

“I know you did, dingus,” she said fondly. “So lets knock today out of the ballpark, yeah?”

“Yeah!”

****

“I was hoping,” Eddie was telling Wayne, “that I could roll into town, get him to sign the divorce papers, and spend the rest of the week with you. But no, he’s being a stubborn ass.”

Wayne snorted. “You always did aim too high.”

“I thought he’d want to be rid of me,” Eddie huffed. “I’ve done nothing but run around all over this god forsaken country just to put some distance between me and him. I’ve hurt him in every possible way. I thought he was just wanting closure you know, calling me into town like he did.”

Wayne furrowed his brow. “He called you into to town?”

Eddie nodded and placed his chin on his hands on the table. “I was a bit of an ass about it because I didn’t explain things to Chrissy, but yeah. He told me that if I wanted to divorce him so bad, I’d have to come back to Hawkins and do the job proper.”

The waitress came set Wayne’s food down and Eddie sat up so she could do the same for him.

Wayne waited until she was gone before he turned back to Eddie. “When you told me you were marrying Chrissy, I was more than a little surprised.”

Eddie rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “I know. I have my reasons, I just can’t tell you yet. But I promise it’s for a good reason.”

“He’s done really well for himself here,” Wayne said softly.

“And I haven’t?” Eddie spat out a tad too bitterly.

Wayne scowled. “Did I say you hadn’t, boy?” he snapped.

Eddie’s head reared back from the shock of his normally mild mannered uncle to snap at him. He shook his head, his lip beginning to quiver.

“I’m on your side,” Wayne said, to Eddie’s scoff. “I know I keep hyping up Steve, but I remember what you two were like when things were good, son. You were incandescent. But I look at you now and that sparkle has gone. I want to be happy for you, but first you’ve got to show me that you’re happy for yourself.”

“You don’t think I’m happy?” Eddie asked in confusion. “I have my own tattoo shop, I’m going to marry a great girl, and I’m still friends with most of the members of my band. What’s not to be happy about?”

Wayne shrugged. “You tell me.”

Eddie frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, old man.”

Wayne dug his thumbs into his belt and licked his top lip nice and slow. Eddie ignored him and just stabbed at his food.

“Kiddo,” Wayne said, shaking his head, “you’re still in love with that boy even with these ten years gone.” His chin jutted up to point to Eddie’s food.

Eddie froze with his fork half way to his mouth and then looked down at his plate. It took him a full minute to realize what Wayne was talking about.

“Oh.”

He had ordered the breakfast platter. It had hash browns, scrambled eggs, ham, bacon, and sausage with a side of chocolate chip pancakes. But Eddie didn’t like hash browns or sausage. He would give them to Steve who did.

He thought about the little box that was sat next to him on the bench and the brownie Steve had concocted for him so long ago.

Eddie swallowed thickly, his stomach turning sour as he stared at the hash browns and sausage he was never going to eat.

“Eat up,” Wayne said with a soft smile. “You don’t want it to go to waste.” He scooped up the hash browns and put them on his plate and then stabbed both sausage.

He dipped the first sausage into his over easy eggs, ignoring Eddie’s turmoil. At least for the moment.

Eddie brought the fork all the way to his mouth and chewed, not really tasting it.

He ate through most of the food that way, until it came to the pancakes. He moaned happily.

“Seattle just doesn’t make pancakes the way Benny does,” he said softly.

Wayne’s smile was no less tender this time, but infinitely more fond. “You could always come back to Hawkins. You can set up a tattoo shop anywhere, so why not here?”

Eddie shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that to Steve. Divorce his ass and then move back into town with Chrissy in tow, shoving it in his face that I moved on.”

“I can see that,” Wayne murmured. “I just miss my boy is all and would love to see you more often than I get.”

Eddie took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know you do. And I would like you to meet Chrissy before the wedding.”

“I’d like that too.”

****

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Tag List:

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

2- @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

3- @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

4- @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

5- @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

6- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

7- @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

8- @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @blackpanzy

9- @amazing-spiderkeys @oldpinghai @raisedbylibrarians @kultiras @swimmingbirdrunningrock

10- @steddie-as-they-go @captain--low @micheledawn1975 @thespaceantwhowrites @mac-attack19

[randomalistic]

Anyways here’s a rambling infodump thing about all the similarities between Spamton and Turbo and then some. (you should bully me for this)

My fixation on both of them… they feed into eachother.

3 foot tall FREAK !!!!!

THE INSANE SMILER…

Glitchy and pixelated

Full of envy, pent up hatred, DESPERATELY CRAVES REVENGE.

Kinda ugly </3

Or at least. Unconventional!

Used to drive a car when he was popular

I know there’s a difference between being a car spokesman and being a racer but it’s close enough <3 Spamton would not know how to drive a cungadero they just told him to pose in there and smile. Ok Headcanon OVER !!!!

Had it all in the 80s/90s before losing the spotlight

Turbo did his bullshit in 1987 (actual road blasters release year) and Spamton did his bullshit in 1997

Only really known as an unspeakable rumor and lives in infamy

It’s more like everyone “moved on” from Spamton and forgot about him (or at least tried to forget about him…) where with Turbo what he did was so bad that he’s only known for that ONE thing

Goes in hiding for decades

Spamton has his alleyway dumpster, and maybe other areas of cyber city with low traffic. Turbo’s hiding was implied to have been in the depths of game central station until Sugar Rush was plugged in. (Which I think was asked about in an AMA) Both are like. ~30 YEARS of hiding 💀

Would go any length for the same attention again

The interesting thing about this is Turbo DOES win. He does get that attention back by disguising as King Candy and being able to race again, and he keeps it for however long Sugar Rush was around for before the events of the movie. Spamton never gets it back…

But at least Spamton doesn’t get INCINERATED so I’d say he’s better off, even if the best outcome is him becoming an item

Dependent on some kid for his plan to work

Although Spamton’s relationship with Kris (dependent on them helping him) is pretty different than King Candy’s relationship with Vanellope (dependent on her not interfering) I still think it’s funny that they both have beef with children

Later attempted murder of said kid

Quality villains out here not even hesitating to kill kids to get what they want !!!

Imitated/fabricated identity

Spamton imitates Swatch, Turbo fabricates (?) King Candy

Stupid catchphrase

NOW’S YOUR CHANCE TO BE [TurboTastic!]

BOSS BATTLE FORM IS FUCKKKKED

They essentially have the same monologue of “THANKS TO YOU I'M MORE POWERFUL THAN EVER!! But it's not enough... so I'm going to kill you anyways"

I think King Candybug’s Face resembles SNEO in a weird way. Mostly just the big eyes and weird nose and THE SMILERRRRR. They have very similar vibes! I will stop myself now!

Virus/malware adiacent

Turbo literally claims he’s a virus by the end of the movie and Spamton is Spamton

Critically Acclaimed Tumblr Man (and hated)

From my RESEARCH. (Aka. Looking up art of him) Apparently a lot of people on tumblr liked Turbo in 2013. And those people have since become spamton people (perhaps ……) I guess that is me now too. Really unfortunate

Lore ties into a real life video game (Petz & Road Blasters)

In the sweepstakes spamton was kinda confirmed to come from a Petz game. I also didn’t know road blasters was Real until I started looking into it . (TurboTime is fake tho) But there’s a very specific similarity for you. Fucked up characters blurring the lines into real life my beloved

Rivalry/broken friendship with Those similar looking fellas (I’m running out of brain power here)

Spamton had the Addisons, which were like his friends? Fellow advertisers. Looked a bit like him, just taller with different colors. Spamton left them after becoming a big shot because he thought he didn’t need them anymore…

Turbo had the “turbo twins” (the 2 other blue racers in his game) idk if that’s their official name cuz they kinda barely exist in canon.. I think it’s popular fanon that Turbo is shorter than both of them, but that’s actually not true. But I’m still gonna count it. Anyways he KILLED them when he got turbotime unplugged. THEYRE DEAD.

Extreme temperature related death (is this a stretch)

Less of a similarity and more of an interesting contrast

Turbo burns to death when he’s INCINERATED in diet cola mountain. I could ramble about this a lot but. That’s for my second account

And Spamton NEO (in snowgrave at least) is FROZEN SOLID by noelle. He shouldn’t have asked for that ice cream man

Anyways I get similar vibes from those guys..

I hope they explode.

Also thinking more about this is making me realize how similar in concept deltarune and Wreck it Ralph are. As in, those apps and computer programs in the computer lab ? Yeah they’re alive and theres a whole ass cyber city and mansion and theres a ton of little guys living in there! (And same goes for the card kingdom in chapter 1)

Like if there was a dark world created in an arcade, it would probably look something like the WIR world. In a way, lightners would be the “players” because everything the game characters (darkners) do is to serve the players. I’m just saying !!!! These pieces of media are both Really Good!!!

[riptideripley]

Chapter One of: Addicted.

word count: 1,196

Ever since they first met Roman had been hooked. Seth had this spark to him that Roman felt like he could get high off of. June 2nd 2014 replays in his head every day and he just couldn’t stop it. Liv and Rhea worked through their issues so why couldn’t Seth do the same with him?

Friday rolled around and it was about time for the promo segment they had. Seth was sitting in his dressing room when the door opened, revealing Roman.

“Long time no see.”

“Yeah.”

The small talk happened often between the two, they seemed to never be able to get over what happened a whole decade ago. But only when Roman needed..him was when they would actually “talk”. They last time they found themselves “having a conversation” ended in them fucking in Roman’s hotel room.

“What do you need now Ro? Is it Rhea or..-”

“No it’s not her and it never will be. Just wanted to..check on you I guess.” he confessed, not daring to make eye contact with Seth. Truth be told he was actually nervous around Seth due to him being the only one to see him so vulnerable.

“I see..why don’t you close the door and come have a seat hm? We have 20 minutes to spare.” Seth spoke to which Roman obliged and sat down on the black leather couch.He didn’t speak, just sat there trying to form his words before he said something stupid. “Heard about you and Rhea last week, everyone was talking about it. You know you two really have to work that whole shit out before the whole world knows.” Seth broke the silence which quickly reminded Roman of what happened the week before.

Flashback.

“Rhea you know that wasn’t supposed to happen. I swear I didn’t mean f-“ “BULLSHIT. You swore no one and I mean absolutely no one would find out about that yet here comes Jimmy throwing the shit in my face!” The two went back and forth. What were they arguing about, you may ask? Well to cut shit short they hooked up after Rhea retained her championship at Elimination Chamber. They swore up and down it meant nothing to them but god knows they were both wrong.

“Rhea I’m sorry ok? He must’ve saw the messages in my phone ok just-“ “No Roman that’s bullshit. Why the fuck would he even have your phone?!”

“HEY! Can you two knock it off? People are looking. Take this somewhere private for fucks sake” Dominik finally spoke, having enough of them bickering. The two looked at him and looked at each other, choosing to go into her dressing room to talk.

End of Flashback.

“Yeah..we’re trying, she’s still mad at me and rightfully so.” “I mean I would expect her to be, you swore to keep it private but let your idiot cousin ruin it” Roman sighed and nodded at his words. Letting his head fall into his hands he sat there, not really knowing how to take in all of the stuff he’s been dealing with. Seth stood up from his chair and sat next to him, placing his hand on his thigh.

“Look Ro. Try talking to her next week alright? Now cmon we don’t have much time before the segment and you know how long your cousin takes.” he cracked a joke that made Roman laugh, I mean he was right cause my god did Rock take forever.

Fast Forward.

Everything was going fine in the segment..until Roman grabbed the mic. The second the words “crossdresser” left his lips, Seth’s mood completely changed. At first Seth could not even believe what the fuck he was hearing and then it hit him what Roman actually said. He knew Roman would definitely be paying for that later.

Hour and ½ later

“Seth you know I didn’t mean it just please-“

“No Roman I don’t want to hear it. That’s what you wanna call me now really? Oh just the other night you were calling me d-“

“OK! Jesus I get it. Look I said sorry ok?”

“Don’t wanna hear it. Meet me in my room got it?” “..Alright.”

20 Minutes Later.

“Seth can you- not tease like that..” Roman breathed out with a slight whine, being teased by Seth for 5 fucking minutes that felt like an eternity. “Someone is needy tonight huh pretty boy?” Seth chuckled out, finally giving into what Roman wanted. “Damn near didn’t need any l..lube.” Seth breathed out as he eased himself inside. Roman’s breath hitched as he gripped onto the sheets in front of him. He attempted to reach back to hold Seth’s hand but was quickly slapped. “No touching. For me to be a crossdresser you know..you seem more like the type.” he spoke with a small laugh at the end, not wasting his time as he began thrusting at a rough pace.

Roman’s body damn near fell forward if it wasn’t for Seth holding him up by his waist, with all the teasing he went through on the way to the room and during those 5 minutes he was sensitive. “S- Seth-“ Roman choked out, already feeling like he was getting close with the insane pace Seth was going at. “Cmon pretty boy..you know that’s not my name.”

“f..fuck. please daddy” he finally whined out making Seth smile. “That’s more like it..” he chuckled out, lifting one of Roman’s legs over his shoulder. The position was nothing new for the two but it always made Roman let out the sluttiest high pitched moan you could ever think of. Roman was a babbling mess at this moment, unable to even form a proper sentence. “c..close” he built up the courage to whine out. “Fine pretty boy.. let go for me” and with those exact words, he came. Seth wasn’t far behind and before Roman could even process everything, Seth pulled out and flipped him around.

“You know what to do.” Oh he definitely knew.

15 minutes later.

“Roro..Cmon get up big boy” Seth sighed as he lifted Roman up off the bed, sitting him up straight to wipe his entire body down. Roman just sighed and rested his head against Seth’s shoulder.

“You going back to your room”

“Yeah..just give me a minute.”

Seth nodded and let him down carefully to lay there, placing his clothes in a pile on the chair next to the bed(it wasn’t there before🌚). Seth went to the bathroom and got a wet towel, leaning down to clean up some spots off the floor.

Roman sat up and slowly put his clothes on, not really speaking to Seth. This happened often between them, they would just fuck and not speak. It pained him but he would never mention it. Seth watched as Roman grabbed his stuff off the night stand and walked to the door.

“Hey..make sure to call me tomorrow alright? I have something planned for you.” Seth spoke as Roman opened the door making him stop.

What in the entire fuck was Seth planning??

“Yeah..alright.” he responded and walked out the door.

[wlwanakin]

god you're so right about how messed up the obi-wan/anakin/ahsoka dynamic is. it's like: your dad had you way too young, never forgot it and never let you forget it, and the moment you've achieved some independence he has another kid.

and like. you know that this kid is going to have to be your baby, because your father is not qualified to raise her, so it falls to 19-20 yr old you to keep this child alive. anakin is the true teen mom of star wars, tbh

RIGHT!!!! RIGHT!!!! like it’s that. it’s not that but emotionally it is that!!!! and it’s sooo fucked in ways that feel under-acknowledged cuz the show itself is like “but it’s fine! look how well these three get on” but also i don’t care what the show says (except when it’s good in which case i do care. i care So Much). i’m gonna talk about how it’s fucked!! and like, in general it’s the kind of a recipe for extreme tension and resentment and anakin not letting ahsoka be subject to any of that is maybe one of the acts that got him into force heaven two decades later, because anakin grew up being silently resented by obi-wan a bit (in some ways A Lot) and like you can talk about the cycles of it all but that is a very important aspect of it that anakin ensured he did Not continue! but like goddd you cannot tell me there was no resentment towards obi-wan about it all that nagged at him, especially since obi-wan likes ahsoka so much, and frankly obi-wan and anakin are a classic case of parent and child who simply would not like each other if they met as unrelated individuals, and boy oh boy is that a miserable thing to be. and i think it’s unrealistic that all this weirdness just evaded ahsoka too so i’m sure she has her own complexes. being an unwanted child whose custody got passed off bc your religious order decided to use you as a character-building tool (did she ever find out about this. if she ever found out about this it’d be crazy. i like to think she did) is never smooth sailing even your not-teen brother-mom loves you so so much and actually expresses it (UNLIKE SOMEONE ELSE I KNOW).

and anakin really IS the teen mom lol, and i find that funny both bc he’s much closer to an Actual teen mom age wise while obi-wan (designated teen mom by fandom including me bc he acts like one) was fucking 25, and bc anakin was the MORE SUCCESSFUL ONE. like not only was he given a padawan when he was 5-6 years younger than obi-wan was on the frontlines of a WAR he also got over the whole not wanting her thing like super duper fast and despite being the most insane woman alive he actually did a pretty good job and ahsoka ended up being really well-adjusted forever (which is in part stupid bad writing but also i do think anakin gave her the best child soldier experience one could be given…also fucked to think about if you wanna chew on that). like i increasingly don’t care for tcw as the years go on but ahsoka and anakin’s dynamic will be close to my heart forever and ever and that is partially bc the circumstances are so deeply fucked

[oodlyenough]

ohh steven moffat lmao

(boom spoilers)

me last week: i hope we get to see ruby rise to the occasion and get her big moment, we're four eps in. the doctor stepping on a landmine could be it!

this ep: she fucking dies halfway through the episode fekhadlflkg

actually, i mostly liked it fine -- i thought the plot held together ok and was pretty interesting. after the last few eps i wanted something heavier and this delivered. the tension was pretty good. "they're fighting themselves to death bc capitalism" and "thoughts and prayers" are both on the nose, but i didn't mind. i don't know 15 and ruby well enough yet to feel particularly strongly about how they're written or their dynamic with each other, so none of that particularly bothered me. there were a few moments that felt very Clara Oswald to me, but not really in a way that made me think "that's not Ruby!"

the doctor was a very moffat doctor lol -- i liked seeing ncuti get some more dramatic dialogues and some anger etc we haven't seen much of from him yet. his impatience with ruby at the end felt off and was the kind of thing that used to make me bonkers in the moffat era, so disappointed but not shocked to see it crop up here. also "snow isn't snow until it falls" classic moffat line that means nothing but sounds pseudo deep. almost nostalgic

my other nitpick with pacing is that if you're gonna have an ep heavily rely on a countdown you should try to do it in real time. having monday (mundi? munday? idk) say "about 3 minutes" and then have a 3 minute conversation with another guy cracked me up lol. keep it vague if you're not gonna follow it!

but ruby dying was stupid as hell, imo, and is the one thing i have trouble overlooking. i feel like maybe we could've reworked some things... she gets shot later in the ep during the countdown and is injured/dying but then is healed, something like that. i'm not opposed to companion in peril, all things being equal, but when you kill and revive characters so often death stops meaning anything and it's episode 4 and i feel like i'm relitigating shit from 2013 again. real ones who've been following me for a decade know

but the trailer for the next ep made it look like i might finally be getting my ruby-focused ep so i am hyped!!

[skysquid22]

Came to a revelation about Daigo’s character while I was half awake.

His anger is a massive part of his character and the fact he is/seems so controlled and mellowed once he’s Chairman is a bit of a testament to Kiryu’s power to inspire others (look at Mine and Hamazaki). But I think that anger is always there, no matter how we see Daigo. The Fudo Myo-o tattoo alone represents a deity who, in one translation, has a name meaning ‘Violent Wrathful One’ and slays ghosts and spirits with his fierce anger. Chosen for Y2 Daigo because of his position to be a leader someday and his anger, despite on the surface him embodying apathy more at the start. Kiryu is the one that forces him into a more active position and their first goal working together is making peace with with the Omi, but Daigo the entire time lashes out. He constantly fights Ryuji to varying degrees of success and later I think the more powerful display of anger comes out against Koji Shindo, the second Nishikiyama patriarch.

Murder undeniably is a pretty big deal to the main characters of these games and practically is the linchpin to the plot of 0. Y1 and Y2 don’t treat as serious because different writing at the time but nonetheless I’m going to meta-ize the fact that Daigo outright kills Shindo. He shot him to disarm him for aiming to kill Yayoi then shot him dead after yelling at him for nearly fucking over the Tojo Clan and probably also likely as revenge for Shindo forcing himself upon his mom. The only reason he doesn’t shoot him more despite the second shot being a death blow is because Kiryu steps in to curb his anger (pull his gun down and shake his head).

[More under the cut.]

Before Kiryu kicks his ass out of apathy, Daigo was in the midst of a decade long struggle to come to terms with his father’s death, the majority of the time where he believed his hero had done the deed. He had to have been pissed off beyond compare and had no way to come to terms with it directly so he burned off his rage like many men in the series—getting into stupid fights. His impulsiveness got him into the set up by Ryuji, landing him in jail for five years. Even before all this, going back to Y0, he’s being a brat because he’s angry over no one treating him like a person, only as the son of the patriarch. His father was neglecting him because of his job and considering that Yayoi was active enough in the Clan to be the acting Chairman, she was probably in the same boat of neglect. Kiryu, his only friend basically, got kicked out of the Clan and yes Daigo says that it’s no reason for him and Kiryu to not hang out again he does phrase it as a question. At the very least, he’s unsure and worried that he’s going to be alone. It makes sense he decides to get apathetic about it and not care who wants to be his friend, but that apathy comes from his anger over feeling trapped in a situation.

People shit on Daigo a lot for making bad decisions but I think his decision making skills comes from two sources. Trying to be like Kiryu and trying to not let his own anger fuck over the situation, as the times before where he’s done that has either made the situation worse for himself (hating fake friends but giving into fake friends bc he’s lashing out) or he killed someone for it. That has to be hanging over his consciousness, or at least I’m going to treat him like it does with how the rest of the series treats murder. Kiryu being his hero sets up a lot of shitty actions on Kiryu’s part that Daigo follows because of course he will it’s Kiryu (who in fairness does help him sort his shit out it just also comes with consequences). Regardless of Daigo coming to honor the job of Chairman or not, it was a shitty thing to push the responsibility of the job from Kiryu to Daigo. Daigo needed direction at the time and it’s not a stretch to say that Chairman would’ve been a fit for him (and Kiryu ended up being right), it wasn’t what Daigo was looking for at the time. He didn’t need or want or care for the Tojo Clan until Kiryu knocked some sense into him. I’m arguing both sides here because Kiryu’s decision worked out well, but it was still a shitty decision since Daigo was pushed into taking the role at the start. Responsibility trumps over personal wants. As the series goes on, Daigo still looks up to Kiryu, but actively looks to him for advice on how to handle the Tojo Clan. Again it’s a situation that makes sense from both sides.

Daigo’s job is to lead the Clan, he can’t rely on Kiryu’s council or leading hand as he did for him during Y2. It’s a distance that Daigo has to learn to establish. I’m not saying it’s bad that Daigo makes exceptions for Kiryu, but it is to be reliant on him. This was sort of a crux in Mine’s argument in Y3–that the Tojo Clan had priority over Kiryu, especially considering that Kiryu was no longer in the Clan. The massive core to this back and forth argument (how much should Kiryu help Daigo out) is the fact that Kiryu was the Fourth Chairman. He had just as much responsibility to the Clan as Daigo does and while Daigo chooses to lead, Kiryu passed the buck to Terada (which lets be honest was the most short-sighted and one of the stupidest decisions on his part). It flatly comes across as Kiryu not wanting to take the responsibility of his position and that reasoning influences every single interaction with Daigo from then on. Yes, Daigo is a sound choice to become Sixth Chairman, yes also Kiryu did it because he didn’t want to take responsibility to be Chairman himself (hi Mine, you were right on this). Yes, Daigo needed to not rely on his hero, a person he idolized so much despite spending nearly a decade confusingly hating, yes also Kiryu should’ve given him council when requested because it would’ve likely helped the situation more than hurt it and also it kept the connection between them. Daigo saw Kiryu as a friend when he had none, then as his fallen hero, then back to being his hero for saving him from his own self destruction tendencies, then… that last part stagnates. Kiryu’s connection to Daigo when he’s Chairman is distant and not at all close. Considering the reaching out efforts Daigo makes, it makes more sense that Daigo is the one with the father complex upon Kiryu and not the other way around. Kiryu never reaches out to Daigo for anything other than Work(tm) and even then it’s only out of a response to more external pressures AND after Daigo tries to reach out. His letter to Kiryu comes as a result of reuniting with Haruka in Y6, it’s not much of his own resolve to reach out naturally.

All of this is to say—how could Daigo not be incredibly angry? During his time as Chairman he seems composed, slipping out into normal anger or being worried since he’s struggling with the job, but considering his former displays of anger up to that point I think it’s a miracle Daigo didn’t have a midlife crisis and cracked. He has to be full of rage, but managing to keep it under wraps because appearances are important. His life has always revolved around what others have expected for him, never once getting a say in what he wants to do from the start. Instead of his hero worship snapping, he clung even harder to it to make up for the fact that he had no one else to turn to. His same hero writes him a letter after his death about how he saw him as a son to him despite only being there for him when it was convenient and also when it also served to benefit himself. (Some dad, huh…) I want to see Daigo angry at Kiryu, I want him to grow outside of the garden Kiryu made for him.

[lynaferns]

I wish my teachers from back then in school didn't take too much into account the age rating of books and choosed books for the class to read based on the kids interests in said class.

I'm not saying to read mature rated books to kindergarten kids. I mean in highschool or even primary school, taking more into account what could be a read good enough to make the kids want to start reading by themselves. Don't choose a book base only if it's age appropriate and if you liked the title, but about the story. I know the books the teachers course are actually from an approved list by the school, but those books are always shit.

I don't like reading, I've hated or gotten bored of every book a teacher has made me read. Fantasy, mystery, slice of life, hated them all.

The worst was when the book was in basque (hi, I'm from Basque country, it's in Spain, in case you didn't know I'm from there, now you know), those books- listen, there is a whole thing going on with the current basque that is talked here, with the thing of being an artificial amalgamation of what was the OG language. We don't have a nice catalogue of basque books to read... specially because they are all recently written, and I mean this century. The basque authors have to start somewhere, but that's all we have.

(something something people being haunted decades ago for talking basque, parents not teaching the language to their kids to protect them, losing the language, trying to bring it back by ripping out words from Spanish and the little they could save from the lost one, something something, and now there are only a few villages that can talk the original basque and can't understand shit from the new basque and that's fucking sad because the new one is so clumsy and awkward and the old one was so much pretty but anyways this could have been its own post)

This stupid book, I remember crying because I didn't want to read that book. It was so bad, so fucking boring but had to do a resume of the whole book and I only had a chapter left and I was pulling at my hair because I couldn't bring myself to read it. It wasn't even a long book, in fact, one of the shortest I've read in my life. Must have been less than 100 pages around 10 short chapters, BIG FONT FOR KIDS. I hated it with all my soul and I made sure to express that in my resume. You have no idea of how relieved I was that it was over and that my brother and mother didn't have to convince me anymore to read it.

A few years ago my brother tried to get me into Terry Pratchett's books but I got bored fast. I had people around me try to recommend books to read. Any time someone started talking to me about a book they've read my brain would shut down and I would be just like "yeah cool 🙂(<-trying really hard to fake having interest)".

Once I tried to find ways to get me into reading the books assigned from school, like 30 minutes read a day. I would put timers in my phone and try not to look at the clock. When my father found out he got really mad at me and scolded me for some reason I to this day still don't understand. My mother wasn't mad but she told me that if I had to read a number of chapters assigned, I had to read those chapters. And I dropped the book. Completely. I didn't submit the resume we had to do at the end of the year.

The concept of picking a book to read and actually reading it... I can't do that. The times I tried to read a book because someone really wanted me to read it, my brain has just stopped a few pages in, like "yeah no, this isn't happening buddy, we are not reading today."

One day suddenly, I started reading. A lecture that caught me enough to read the first 4 chapters in a row. Another time I read the equivalent of 4 books in a week. And suddenly it's not as hard as before to pick up something from the list to read and know that I'm going to read it later. It was a fanfic who made me think "Oh shit! Wait! Reading is fun!?!?!?!"

But I'm only reading because I'm familiar with the characters that are in the fic, and I want to see more stories about that specific character.

I can start watching a show, a gameplay, pick up a fanfic... I can't pick up a book and read it without losing interest.

[whetstonefires]

If Steve Rogers functions as the Superman of the bunch, the noble hero out of the past who inspires the others to greatness, what exactly is Bucky Barnes role, especially as Captain America himself?

I don't think that's a very meaningful analogy because like. The Justice League and the Avengers are very different teams, and despite their fairly similar ethics Clark and Steve are possibly even more different guys.

Captain America's is a solid general all-rounder, very mid-level in terms of actual power. Problems are frequently too big for him. Superman is stupid strong--every so often something shows up that's more powerful than he is, but he spends most of his life finessing his way through using as much force as he needs without overshooting and causing unacceptable collateral damage. He can move planets.

Psychologically, there's a vast gulf there.

The legacy of Krypton and the, the myth of America are roughly the same shape but are worn in completely opposite ways. No one on Earth knows or cares about Krypton except through Superman, and even he doesn't remember it--sometimes Kara does--so it's just pretty shapes and a deep solemnity.

America is messy and current and in-your-face, it was there before Steve and it'll probably outlive him and sometimes he gets so fed up with its foreign policy decisions or civil rights abuses he puts on a different outfit or goes and lives in a bunker.

'Superman' is a big idea that rests entirely on Kal-El as a person and as a force; 'Captain America' as a concept might be built on Steve and his supersoldier status but it's not dependent on him, they keep making a point of that.

Meanwhile they've made Jon Superman but struggle mightily with how to do that without just making him his dad. Of course they'd be struggling less if they'd let him grow up at a normal speed or were willing to lean into what a fucking bizarre person he ought to be after seven years in a cave with his dad's evil twin; basically Jon Kent doesn't have a character right now and they think he can hold up a title. But actually they know he can't that's why they brought Clark back. Superman is a disaster right now.

So anyway. In classic terms, Bucky was the counterpart of Jimmy Olsen. Then he died--I believe this was established in a retcon in the 60s when they brought Cap back, when Marvel was getting its feet under it as the grounded, realistic superhero comic company.

Then Bucky and Jason Todd both came back in 2005 which was kind of embarrassing for everyone imo. Just like. Did you have to do that at the same time you're making each other's cheap stunts look even more stuntlike.

Bucky's actually done better over the last 18 years than Jason tbh, rip--I mean in terms of interesting stories and development. Jason got his own book and all, he just also was subjected to terrible discontinuity of character and was primarily written by Scott Lobdell for like a decade. Terrible.

In terms of who he can be compared to relative to Superman when he's being Captain America, I. Uhhhhhh. No one in any useful way, I don't think. The obvious place to look is the Death of Superman/Reign of the Supermen period, but like.

Does Bucky have anything really in common with Cyborg Superman other than being a traumatized cyborg? No. Does he have anything in common with The Kid (later Kon-El)? You'd think there'd be something but there really isn't. Each point they have in common (i.e. dehumanizing lab background) they have diametrically opposed relationships to.

Steve's had duplicates and impersonators, I think the anti-commie guy he beat up that time is kind of like his Cyborg Superman equivalent? Except there's a whole political ideology thing going on there which is just not present with Superman. Anyway, not relevant to Bucky.

...you can I think draw some kind of relationship between Sam Wilson as Captain America and John Henry Irons as Steel, because on the writing end of things there's a definite flavor match, in terms of very deliberately creating a very cool black man and holding him up as an exemplar in a superhero story that otherwise has not got a lot of black people in major roles, and making him the best person to uphold the legacy of the Very Important Hero Guy. Like certain conventions are utilized the same in both instances. In certain ways that was two versions of the same story.

But also not really; Irons was very much pinch-hitting and what made him the best was that he was the one determined to do the work rather than claim the glamor; it's a lot more ceremonious and torch-passing with Wilson. A different deal. Although in some ways that's just because Marvel has hung onto and deliberately invested in the Falcon for decades.

DC Comics stop doing weird stuff with Clark's family and identity and reinvest in the supporting cast challenge. Where is Steel what's going on with him. Does he exist in this timeline.

[alien-hybreed]

OVERTIME - Part 1: Extended Hours

Mike hates his boss, Laura. Mike secretly has a crush on his co-worker, Rhiannon. Laura has never been anything but rude and demanding. So when an argument keeps Mike at work with Laura instead of leaving with Rhiannon, he's fired up.

Fired up enough to do something stupid, like hate-fucking Laura.

But there's something different about Laura besides her sudden interest in Mike. Something otherworldly, something monstrous...

"Mysterious radio transmissions reported by several of the world's-" Click "Inside sources saying that it may have originated from beyond our solar system, there are concerns-" Click "The unusual reports of shooting stars observed across the city last night-" Click "Saw several properties damaged by the debris-" Click "As authority call upon citizens to-" Click "Keep well away" Click After cycling through several different news channels, Rhiannon finally settled on a community television channel that played very poorly recorded covers of popular jazz songs over stock photos of scenic photographs. It was dull but not half as dull as the 10pm news.

"You gonna leave it on this one this time?" Snapped her co-worker, snatching the remote from her. "I dunno Luke, am I?" She playfully retorted, playfully nudging him under the counter. Mike watched the two from the burger bench as he frantically tried to wipe the station clean. It was yet another quiet week night, Mike hated those. Because they were short-staffed, uneventful and tedious? Sure. But mainly because it meant watching his best friends flirt with one another. Jealousy was a terrible thing like that. Mike had a crush on Rhiannon, had done since he first met her working here.

They'd started at the same time, fresh out of high school, trying to make ends meet. Almost five years later and they were still here despite always talking about moving on to better things. Rhiannon was still working in this fast food hell hole because she didn't know what she wanted to do next. Mike was here because he didn't want to give up on Rhiannon. And Luke? Well he slept with almost every woman that worked here. Except for...

"You two! Will you close your mouth's and your registers already?" Snapped the whip-crack sound of their Store Manager's voice from the back office. Laura was a tyrant. A short, pretty woman with long blonde hair in a tight bun and piercing blue-grey eyes. Laura was only a few years older than them, but she behaved like she was decades above them and perpetually irritated by anything that didn't meet her unrealistically high standards. Mike had given up on trying to be friendly to her a long time ago. As far as he was concerned, she'd never even tried to be civil with him or anyone else outside of head office for that matter.

Not five minutes later, Rhiannon and Luke were at it again. Mike winced as he saw Laura come striding out from her office, scowling as one of her trademark tantrums was clearly threatening to break free.

"Pick up the pace Mike" She snapped as she stormed past him.

"Bitch" murmured Mike under his breath. Laura shot him a filthy look over her shoulder as if she'd heard him. Not wanting to get bogged down in a screaming match with her this close to getting out, Mike averted his eyes and scrubbed harder at the toaster he was cleaning.

Mike could hear her shouting at Luke and Rhiannon, her voice getting louder the more they protested. Finally, there was the loud crash of a metal tray getting hurled at a wall followed by Laura stomping back past Mike. She always did this once she started throwing things around. She'd walk off only to come back moment's later, twice as pissed. The only way to stop her was to be immediately working on what she'd demanded or she'd just get meaner. Mike knew better than to attract any attention to himself. Despite that, Laura glared at the bench he'd cleaned earlier.

"Not good enough, get your act together Mike!" She snarled. Mike went to respond but she was already lashing out at Luke and Rhiannon again.

"Alright love birds, you're fucking done. Go the fuck home. Mike and I have got this." She bellowed, stomping her feet for emphasis. "Oh what the fuck? No! No way!" Snapped Mike, throwing his scrubbing brush at the floor. Rhiannon tried to say something but Laura cut her off. "Home. Go. We've got this." "I don't think so, that's bullshit" pouted Mike. He knew full well there's no way he'd get out in decent time, Laura was always more hindrance than help when she started cleaning anything herself. She'd have Mike redo everything, for what? His friends flirting?

"Mike. Not asking. You'll get it done. You two aren't working so go the fuck home" Roared Laura. Taking the hint, Luke and Rhiannon dived for the staff room to get their things and make a run for it. They had an outland they'd seen Mike and Laura fight enough to know they needed to get out while they still could.

"Well I'm asking, Laura. How the fuck are we meant to get all this done!?" Snapped Mike.

"Well you won't get it done any faster arguing!" Shouted Laura as Luke slipped out the front door, followed by Rhiannon. Rhiannon paused on the way out to mouth 'Sorry' to Mike before ducking out.

"So what, they do less work and they get to leave early?" Replied Mike, raising his voice to match Laura's.

"Right! That does it! You, my office. Now!" Screamed Laura, going red in the face.

"What!? Now!?" Mike was no stranger to Laura's 'disciplinary meetings'. He was angry enough at the prospect if staying back. Throwing a half hour of Laura high-roading him about due process and performance improvement plans, sounded like hell.

"Yes! Office, Mike! Now!" She shrieked, stomping her feet again. Mike rolled his eyes and shuffled towards the office. As he stepped into the office, he turned to face her and huffed. "Honestly Laura, just let me get back to cleaning or we'll be here all night?" Pleaded Mike. "I'm counting on it" snarled Laura as she shoved Mike, pushing him backwards. Mike stumbled, falling into the office chair behind him. Before he even knew what was happening, Laura was sitting in his lap. Her legs were around his waist, her hands seizing him by the neck and shoulder as she clamped her lips around his. Mike tried to push her off him, but her grip was surprisingly strong. Her tongue darted between his lips and began stroking the insides of his mouth. By the time she finally pulled her lips free, Mike was gasping for air.

"Yeah" She whispered, her voice dropping to a husky whisper "We're gonna be here a long time" at that she pulled Mike's hair, yanking his head to one side as she pressed her lips to his neck. Mike frantically looked around as if suspecting a prank. Laura's tongue was stroking the side of his neck and Mike couldn't help himself as he leaned into it. Laura was a lot of things, but unattractive wasn't one of them. Maybe this late shift wouldn't be so bad at all... Mike winced a little as he felt her tongue grow rough, something about it almost felt like it was pricking his neck... At that Laura stopped and pulled away, briefly releasing him to start unbuttoning her the shirt of her uniform.

"Clothes. Off. Now." She commanded as she pulled her shirt over her head and cast it aside. "Shouldn't we go somewhere more... y’know" Panted Mike as he tried to catch his breath while marvelling at the sight of her. The swell of her breasts straining against her bra, the flatness of her stomach... why was she working here when she could have been a supermodel instead?

"I said clothes off. Now" she growled, gripping his chin tightly. Mike nodded and began tearing at his pants while Laura pulled his shirt over his head. Given how slender arms were and how little physical work Mike had ever seen her do, he couldn't get over how strong she was. He let out a sigh as her hands roamed his chest, tracing along the line of his collarbone and stroking his sides. He kept trying to reciprocate and touch her but she kept pushing his hands away.

"Clothes. Off." She growled, baring her teeth as she swooped in to press her lips to his throat again. Mike had got his pants to his knees before he'd become distracted but he knew she wanted more than that. While kicking his legs to work his pants down to his ankles, he slipped free of his boxers. His cock springing out to press against Laura's pants, already fully erect and ready for what must surely come next. Again Mike felt the prickle on his neck as her tongue pressed against it. His vision blurred a little as Laura stood up and stepped back to admire him. "Yes. Yes this exactly what we want, isn't it?" She said in a husky whisper, slowly unzipping her pants to let them fall to the ground, dramatically revealing her slender legs and a waistline that made Mike's heart skip a beat. A tiny black thong was all that stood between Mike and her womanhood.

"So what are you waiting for? Come and get it" snarled Mike. This changed nothing. He still hated Laura... didn't he? "Oh, I will" chuckled Laura. Maybe it was light off the nearby computer screens, but Mike swore there was a green glint in her eye when she said that. Laura turned around and unclipped her bra before cinching her thong down slowly, bending over to tease Mike with the sight of her ass and a glimpse of her pussy.

"Stay where you are" She commanded, stepping backwards and lowering herself into Mike's lap. "I'm not looking at you until we're ready" "I'm ready" said Mike as her ass cheeks slowly slid around his cock until it sat neatly between them, pointing up at her lower back. "Not yet. Until then, do exactly as I say" She snapped. "You can touch my legs now" she murmured. Mike immediately slid his hands over her thighs. She took a deep breath and arched her back, reaching behind her to grab Mike by his hair. Mike squeezed gently as his hands slid up and down her thighs. Slowly, her hips started to flex, making Mike's cock slide back and forth between her ass cheeks.

"Unf... you're still such a bitch" grunted Mike. He felt her other hand come to rest over his left hand and gently guide it towards her crotch. "You love it" She sighed as she ran his forefinger across the folds of her entrance. "I really don't. You're a fucking bitch, Laura" whispered Mike, not sounding quite so sure of himself as he felt his finger slip into her slit. God, it was wet. So warm, soft and so fucking wet. Was that normal he wondered? How badly did Laura need this? "Oh and you're such a good boy?" She scoffed with a slight chuckle. "You will be once I'm through with you..." She groaned as she pressed Mike's finger to her clit. Mike went to speak but instead she pulled his head so close that it pressed his lips to the back of her neck. "Kiss me like you want to kiss her" She said with a lusty sigh. She knew about Rhiannon? Of course she knew. Laura was perceptive, there's no way she hadn't clocked it a long time ago. The thought of Rhiannon being here instead was more than enough to make Mike give her exactly what she wanted. He began working his lips around Laura's neck until he was passionately sucking and biting at it. Laura shuddered and began gyrating harder, bucking back and forth between pushing down on Mike's finger and continuing to massage his shaft with her ass.

Mike couldn't deny this was the hottest thing he'd ever done with a woman. The kitchen staff had often joked Laura was probably the kind of woman that fucked like a real dirty porno, but he'd never expected that to be quite so close to the truth. Satisfied she didn't need to hold his mouth in place, Laura stopped pulling his hair and seized his right hand and moved it up to cup her breast.

"Good isn't it? Go on, feel it. Don't act like you haven't thought about it, I've seen how you stare at them" She stated firmly. Mike did as he was told, kneading the luscious mound and slowly slipping his fingers around her rock-hard nipple. Mike's left hand no-longer needed any guidance from Laura as his forefinger swirled around her clit, his movements guided by her soft moans of ecstasy. He slipped another finger in to join it and Laura didn't object. If anything, her moans and movements began to intensify. Mike desperately wanted to plunge his cock into her while he still had the chance, he could feel it wouldn't be much longer until he came but there was no way he could get his cock into position in time. Laura had him firmly locked in position, was this her plan all along? To get him off and humiliate him for not going the distance? Again, Mike surprised himself by not being turned off by it. Maybe letting her win this one could turn things around between them? Mike could feel the pressure swelling up from his balls into his shaft. Any moment now... Mike felt something brush against his shaft, as though she had just licked it. He didn't have time to hesitate or think how strange that might be, he was already spurting cum over her ass and lower back. His fingers squeezed as his nerves briefly overloaded from the sensation. Laura let out a long, orgasmic moan that became a haughty chuckle as she slowed to a halt.

"Mmm... still thinking about Rhiannon, Mike? Or was that for me" She huffed as she caught her breath. "Sorry... I..." Mike stammered as he tried to apologise for his brevity. Laura slowly turned to the side and slid her leg around his waist once more. "Shhh..." She whispered, gently pressing a finger to his lips "I know you can do more. I'm counting on it." She purred as she pressed her chest against his, passionately kissing Mike. He tried not to flinch when again her tongue felt like it was making a prickling sensation on the inside of his mouth. "I asked you a question, Mike" She gasped between kisses. "Was that for Rhiannon?" She growled. Mike genuinely didn't know the answer. Laura was always horrid to him. He felt nothing but loathing for her. And yet... "Maybe... maybe not... no..." he rasped, clearly unsure of how best to answer such a loaded question. He still liked Rhiannon, didn't he? He couldn't be developing feelings for Laura, surely not?

"I thought so. Because you're a good boy now, aren't you?" Replied Laura, sliding off him and slowly moving to sit between his legs. "Would Rhiannon do this?" She purred, slowly dragging her tongue along his shaft, mmming and moaning as she flicked trails of cum into her mouth. Mike was fascinated as he watched her, the control she had over her tongue and how long it was... it was giving him some truly wicked ideas of what he'd like to see her do with it. Mike threw his head back and moaned.

"That's right..." She whispered seductively "Naughty, isn't it?" She continued, moaning between licks. Again, where her tongue touched him he felt his skin prickle. Weirder still was that his cock wasn't going down at all. Had she spiked his drink in the staff room? Is that what this was about? How else could he still be up? Again the light from the office cast a strange reflection in her eyes, making them seem almost entirely bright green, her irises glowing like the red eye effect on an old photograph.

"You're going to be naughty, but only when I tell you to Mike" She growled before sheathing his whole cock in her mouth. Mike whimpered as he felt a second, smaller load of cum burst into her mouth despite his best efforts to hold it back. Laura just chuckled as she stood up, licking her lips clean as she did. Mike also tried to stand up but he felt too tired to really work his feet, making Laura snicker as she watched him.

"I didn't say we were done, Mike" She growled, her voice dropping lower than he'd ever heard before. Her eyes still looked weirdly green and red, was Mike sure that was a reflection? "I said we were going to be naughty" She growled even lower again as she jumped on him. The chair squeaked and cracked as she landed on him, her legs straddling him as he felt her vagina slide up against his shaft.

"Do you still want Rhiannon?" She whispered into his ear while deliberately grazing the head of his cock with her folds "or just me?" "You..." Gasped Mike. "Only you..." he groaned as he leaned his head against her shoulder, exasperated by the whirlwind of emotions he was feeling. He'd spent so long obsessing over Rhiannon. But Laura felt right. Laura was controlling, powerful but also so sensual and proficient.  He'd never really thought too much about being submissive, but Laura made it feel so natural, so soothing. "I just want you Laura, please, while I still can..." he begged, imploring her to push down and take him into her depths before his erection would surely begin to wane. Laura shushed him and drew him into another passionate kiss. His hands slid up her sides and back to cling at her shoulders as he settled into it.

Maybe it was the exhaustion kicking in, but when she finally pulled away, Mike could have sworn Laura suddenly looked bigger. She was five foot six, but now she seemed taller than that, her legs and torso were almost the same as his and he was six foot. That couldn't be right? He didn't get to dwell on that before she shifted his attention elsewhere. Bracing herself on his shoulders, she rolled her hips forward, expertly guiding his cock into her sopping wet pussy. Mike gasped as he felt something long, wet and warm coil around his shaft and pull it deep into her. At that, Laura seemed to make a deep rumbling sound, she was purring like a cat.

"Hey, what just..." Mike protested, trying to put their tryst on pause for a moment. He felt the same sharp prickling sensation as before, but this time it was running up and down his cock. He was cut off from speaking further as Laura pressed her lips to his again. Mike bucked his hips and shivered with delight as he felt his cock moving in and out of her.

"That's all you need to worry about" She stated, gently clawing at he back of his head as she gyrated in his lap. "That's all you want, isn't it?" She moaned, licking at his ear as she spoke. Mike felt like it was a struggle to respond, he just tilted his head and let her keep licking. Eventually, she leaned back, burying his cock deeper in her. As she did, Mike's hands roamed her body. He lovingly caressed her sides and kneaded at her breasts, his fingers homing in on her nipples to playfully pinch and pull at them. All the while the stinging sensation around his cock intensified. It now felt like there were at least three separate lengths caressing and coiling around his cock as it throbbed inside her. But instead of concern or shock, Mike only felt more invigorated by the strange sensation.

As Laura leaned back  she ran both her hands through her long, golden waves of hair, sweeping it back behind her. As she did, her hair seemed to disappear while head seemed to be growing longer.

"What's... happening... to you..?" Panted Mike, surprising himself with how willing he was to keep fucking her despite what he was seeing.

"Remember that day I was off sick?" Snarled Laura, her voice growing unnaturally deeper once more. Mike remembered. Right now he felt bad for enjoying that day. He didn't want to enjoy not being around Laura. Not anymore. He loved Laura, he just couldn't see it at the time. There was also something else bouncing around in the back of his head. The news from earlier... something about meteorites...

"I got better" growled Laura as her entire mouth seemed to split open down the middle and open out sideways as a second set of jaws slowly slid into place behind them. The secondary jaws weren't split like the others but were lined with sharp teeth and fangs that looked more like the teeth of a cat. Mike bucked up harder. "You really did" he rasped as he gazed up at her in slack-jawed amazement. Her skin was shifting into what looked more like the scales of a snake, yet it was turning bright blue like some sort of tropical bird or fish. The scales were smooth to the touch and felt incredible on Mike's skin where she touched him. Her torso seemed even longer, she was surely six foot six now. Mike watched in awe as the back of her head elongated and swelled, becoming a two foot long, semi transparent tube. He could see through it to the elongated skull beneath which also seemed transparent like it was made of glass. Beneath, throbbed her brain, glowing with the same eerie green light as her eyes. There was something else in there, like snakes writhing between the pieces of her brain. The lips on her outer mouth curled into a ferocious grin as dozens of tentacles rapidly sprouted from the underside of her head, cascading around her back and chest as if it were hair that went down to her waist.

Part of Mike wanted to scream, part of him wanted to cum. He'd never been so aroused before. Whatever Laura had been before, however he may have once felt towards her. He loved her so completely now, no matter what she looked like.

"Our little secret" She snarled. It almost sounded like two voices speaking at once, Laura's feminine, human voice and the deep, guttural growling from before. She crossed her legs around Mike and the chair, locking him in place. Mike bucked up as hard as he could, the wet slurp of his cock in her and the sound of her thighs clapping against his was music to his ears.

Several tentacles draped across Laura's breasts slowly began to coil around Mike's arms as she shrieked and gasped. The warm, wet feeling of the tendrils felt like an incredible massage on Mike's skin that served only to make him buck harder. Mike splayed his fingers out nice more to squeeze her breasts as her nipples began to extend into tentacles of their own. Writhing around his wrists and snaking up his arms, these tendrils were different. Ribbed like vertebrae and ending with point tips that made his skin prickle wherever he touched them. She was incredible, the sensations she gave him were like nothing he'd ever felt before and he craved more.

"Can I... be real naughty?" Implored Mike "We'd really like that" growled Laura, again with the two voices speaking as one. At that, Mike pulled his arms back, using the grip of her tendrils to pull her close to him until their bodies pressed against one another. At that, Mike gave her a slobbery kiss, sliding his tongue past her outer mouth and into the jaw behind it. With all his might and no doubt a little assistance from Laura allowing him to, he pushed his legs to stand up, planting Laura on the desk without breaking contact. The desk creaked under their weight as Mike furiously thrusted into her, the tentacles around his shaft constricting and pulling every time he bean to slide out from her.

The two of them giggled and moaned as they kept this up for several minutes. Mike's eyes glazing over the longer he kept thrusting. Laura shrieked and hissed, stretching out her legs and flexing them to let Mike press his cock deeper in her than ever before. All the while Mike continually muttered how much he loved her and would do anything for her. Such enthusiastic devotion seemed to please Laura, her eyes fluttering and loud moans escaping her every time he did so.

Finally, Mike began to shudder. He clutched at her body as he felt a tremendous climb begin to race through his exhausted form. Laura tensed, tightening her tentacles around him as she sank her claws into his back and crossed her legs behind his back once again.

"Laura... I'm gonna... ah! Fuck! I'm cumming!" Mike gasped struggling to breath. "Do it. Fucking do it. Fuck me harder. Give me every drop, don't fucking stop!" Shrieked Laura in both her voices. Unable to refuse her, Mike dug deep and thrust so hard and fast that he began to drop with sweat. Laura's encouragement became unintelligible moans and roars as Mike's cock rammed into her. Finally, his whole body rocked, his hips spasming as he shot several thick loads of his seed into her before collapsing on her in an exhausted heap.

"I love you... I fucking love you Laura" he Droned, barely awake as he tried to snuggle against her. She chuckled, a low throaty sound as her grip on him began to tighten. "We're not done yet, lover" She purred, Mike groaned, not sure if he could muster the stamina for another fuck like that. But Laura had something else in mind.

The tentacles around Mike's cock continued to constrict, holding his cock inside her as it dribbled the last of his cum. Meanwhile, the tentacles from her nipples snaked their way up his shoulders and plunged into his mouth. Mike's eyes widened as the tentacles thrust their way down his throat. He tried to move but between how low his energy was and how tight Laura's hold on him was, he couldn't budge.

"Mmmf! Mmmhmm!" He tried to ask her what she was doing as he gagged on the rapidly swelling, ribbed tentacles. "Shhhh I've decided I'm keeping you because you're such a good boy..." She purred in a sultry whisper, gently caressing his cheek and temple with her clawed hand as she he'd him. A reminder of their newfound love, combined with the chemicals from her many stings throughout the night which were now flooding Mike's system, seemed to ease him into doe-eyed compliance.

The nipple tentacles began to undulate, pumping thick, viscous fluid into Mike. A warmth blossomed inside him like nothing on this earth and he relaxed completely into her grip. His lips slowly began to suckle at the tendrils as the warmth spread through his entire body. A sharp agonising twinge of pain was shooting through his bones and his chest ached as his ribs began to swell, straining at his skin as it began to turn pale blue and scaly. Mike groaned as his hair began falling out in clumps, the back of his head aching as it began to extend into a semi-transparent tube, half as long as Laura's. Unlike Laura, his ribs, spine  collarbone, hips and the bones on his forearms began sprouting through his skin to form a clear, glassy exoskeleton. His mouth remained the same, but his teeth grew long and sharp while his tongue seemed to grow long and narrow.

Laura happily purred as she watched him transform. The chemicals she was pumping into him were rapidly mutating every cell in his body, every fibre of DNA into a hybrid like her. Memories and knowledge of their species were artificially created in his altered brain, just like Laura had experienced when the alien parasite bonded to her. He would still be Mike, just like she was still Laura. But now he would think differently, feel differently. No human inhibitions to hold back his love for her. He would be a devoted, loyal drone for his queen and he would enjoy it.

Finally, his feet swelled to twice their size, toes becoming beast-like claws while his ankles thickened and his thighs swelled with tight, corded muscles. Satisfied the transformation was completed, Laura retracted her tentacles from his mouth and loosened her grip on Mike.

"How does it feel, my love?" She whispered "Better" growled Mike, now he too sounded like a second, monstrous voice spoke in time with his. "And who do you love?" She asked with a lusty moan "You. Only you." Growled Mike. "Show me" She commanded as her vagina began to relax, letting Mike's cock slide out with a thick, wet, slurping sound. He shuddered as he straightened up and slowly crawled off Laura, his chest heaving with every breath he took. With the utmost reverence for her, he gently placed his hands on her thighs as he slunk backwards. Lowering himself to squat between her legs, he looked up at her, savouring the sight of her as she stretched out to her full length. Even with his own monstrous enhancements  she was easily head and shoulders taller than him.

Laura's mouth's twisted into a wry smile as she watched Mike's eyes roam her body before settling on her pussy. Smeared with a mixture of his cum and her own juices, the three tentacles inside her pussy slowly wriggled where they were protruding from between her folds. Mike couldn't remember ever seeing a more beautiful sight.

"You want to taste me" She stated, her voice as firm as the muscles in her legs that Mike was lovingly massaging. Mike nodded slowly, his awkwardness being a mixture of reverence for Laura and adjusting to the size and balance of his elongated head. Laura tilted her head back and sighed as her pussy tentacles retreated into her. Mike leaned in and slowly pressed his lips to her folds. Laura let out a gleeful hiss, her outer mouth flexing outwards as she exhaled. Mike delicately prised her folds apart and began slithering his tongue up and down her slit. Laura shuddered and gripped the desk tightly as Mike began sucking at her, his head bobbing as he worked his tongue in and out of her. Hours ago, Mike wouldn't have dared go down on a woman he'd just pumped a load into. But this was different. No longer human, he didn't care about where their fluids came from, all he cared about was pleasuring Laura. He relished the slime oozing from her vagina as his lips pressed harder against her, after all this was the taste of their bodies combined. He yearned to be inside her again,  to create more of this delicious substance, to give her as much of it ad she could ever need and never stop. But he stayed where he was, massaging her vagina with his lips and tongue like she wanted, his mouth openng wider with each gulp as instinct drove him to prepare for something that would happen next. He did not understand ths sensation but accepted that he existed for Laura and would welcome whatever she would do to him. After all, he loved her with ecery fibre of his monstrous being.

Meanwhile Laura was stifling an urge of her own. As Mike's tongue pressed at her clit and writhed between her vaginal walls, her eyesight was growing strained and blurry. Her  claws and tendrils flexed involuntarily as herbody began to shiver. A delightful buzz was flushing through her abdominals as internal organs began to shift and squeeze. Was this how her orgasms would feel from now on, she wondered? There was so much about her new form she didn't fully understand, she just knew it felt good and right, that she wanted more and for it to never stop.

She could feel her vaginal tentacles straining not to plunge into Mike's mouth. She wanted something more than a climax. She struggled to keep her eyes open as she watched him hungrily lapping at her slit, it pleased her to see him so compliant and submissive,  yet so full of vigor. She wanted her tentacles in there, she wanted to force his throat open and sit on his face. She twitched her hips as she felt a set of mandibles unfurling from within her pussy. She wanted to snap at him with them, clamp them around his cheeks and hold him there... For what? Somehow she knew that if she did that, it would bring their tryst to a halt. There was something else slithering into place, ready to glide down his throat... No! that part must come later, she couldn't waste it now. Not without plenty of seed first... she had to intervene before Mike drove her over the brink of climax.

"Get... Get up!" She Panted, her twin voices gasping as the sensation wracking her body nearly made her lose composure. She wanted to let loose, to fuck with reckless, animalistic fury. To sit on his face and cum. But she wasnt ready yet, her drone had plenty to do for her first and if he was to do that he, she had to be in charge. Mike pulled free and stepped back, his maw dripping with their combined juices as he stood up like a soldier awaiting orders.

"As you command" he growled in a monotone voice, his arms hanging limp by his sides as he awaited further instruction.

"Good boy" She purred as she hopped up, giving herself a moment to stop shakiing as she regained her composure. Slowly, she prowled around him, running her hands over his smooth exoskeleton. "You are my drone now. The first of my beloved" She whispered "Yes my love, as you command" replied Mike in the same monotone, his twin voices so close to matching each other in tone and pitch. "I need your seed..." Continued Laura "Amongst other things, it nourishes me. Sustains this... our... my true form." She caressed herself as she spoke, her eyes fluttering as her hands slid over her crotch and up her chest. She hadn't known this until she said it but now it made perfect sense to her. She hadn't 'eaten' since she first became like this and she had not yet created any drones to sate her appetite. No wonder she'd felt so compelled to convert and fuck Mike, she was starving. Not that she minded, he'd proven to be an excellent choice.

"You do want to sustain me, don't you?" She purred, staring longingly at Mike's cock which now sported a segmented sheath of bone plates around its shaft. As she spoke, an erection swelled it once again, causing a fleshy length to begin extending from it. "I live for you" drawled Mike, excitement creeping into his voice as he anticipated another round of monstrous lovemaking.

"Yes, you do" chuckled Laura, pushing him to the ground. Wasting no time to pounce on him, straddling his waist as he lay beneath her. With a triumphant roar, she rammed her hips against his, impaling her womanhood on his hard, bony cock. Her hips bounced faster than she could have ever managed as a human. Mike tried to grip her thighs but she seized his arms by the wrists and pinned them to the ground. Mike didn't protest, instead he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Relaxing his entire body except for his waist which bucked against Laura's just as hard and fast as it had earlier. He began to purr as her vaginal tendrils coiled around his shaft, the prickling sensation of their microscopic stingers serving only to further invigorate him.

For nearly half an hour she road him, briefly pausing when they would both begin to shudder and hiss as a thick load of cum would pour into her. Each time, Laura would fight off the general to move her hips to his face and let her mysterious fourth pussy tentacle do what it wanted. The niggling urge grew stronger every time, but she kept her composure and resumed fucking Mike cowgirl-style. She was still Laura and she was still in charge.

Eventually, even her superhuman stamina began to wear thin. She had feasted upon the seed Mike had pumped into her, but her body still needed to process it. Most of it would be used as an energy source, while a portion would be used for her reproductive functions. But neither of that was possible without rest. Coming to a shuddering halt as a final spurt of cm shot onto her, she looked up at the clock on the wall. Three AM. In a few hours, the sun would be up.

"It's time to go home, my love" She crooned as she slowly slid off of Mike. The thought of needing to leave the safety of the office seemed to be causing Laura's body to change again as she slowly got back on her feet. Her body was rapidly shrinking. Her inhuman features melting back into her skin while her slimy sweat seemed to congeal into regular human skin. Her head ached as it slowly compressed back to the size of a regular human skull, thick waves of blonde hair sprouting from it as it did. If it weren't for Mike locked in his monstrous form beneath her, an intruder would have mistaken her for her regular, albeit naked, human self. Finally, with a gasp, her eyes returned to their normal blue grey.

Wasting no time, Laura got dressed as fast as she could and gathered up the tattered remains of Mike's clothes and stuffed them into her backpack.

"Carefully now. I'm taking you to my car Mike, but you can't eternity anyone see you" She whispered, stroking his chest as she did. "Careful... as you command" he drawled in his monotone. "Yes, Mike. We're going to our home" She stated, affirming their course of action. "Home..." he happily purred. "Yes, our home" She chuckled, taking his hand and leading him towards the door "I need to sleep and you need to build a nest..."

* * *

The next day, when the opening shift arrived, there was no shortage of complaining. The place had been left in a mess, only half the cookware and workstations had been cleaned, some even still had last night's leftovers going off in them.

When Rhiannon and Luke arrived for the closing shift later that day, everyone wanted to know why they'd half-assed the close. Let alone how Laura had let them leave with it so blatantly unfinished. The conversation was awfully repetitive. "Laura sent us out, it was just her and Mike, ask him?" "Mike's not in today, nobody's heard from him?" "Well... ask Laura?" "Hah good one" or "Ask Laura? Seriously?"

The two of them couldn't help but worry how bad Mike and Laura must have fought if he wasn't in and Laura had made no comment on it. As they put their bags away in the staff room and moved towards their registers, Laura stepped out of her office. Perfectly normal, human Laura, her face in its characteristic frown. She snapped at them as abruptly as she had appeared.

"Luke, I'm going to need you to stay back late tonight. There's a lot we need to catch up on..."

Continued in Part Two - Home Time

[empressofthelibrary]

Tell me about Jamie and Rachel

......Okay, I've been trying to keep my mouth shut about them because I'm worried I'll lose the motivation to write if I spill the beans, but... When I look at the pace I'm actually writing at, I might not get there until I literally retire. So... Here we go. Spoilers ahead, obviously.

Long story short, they're Bailey and Dick's daughters. I'm not sure how obvious that was, but I'd be shocked if nobody had put that together yet, honestly. And they might be from another dimension. They hatched from eggs that grew from a plant Bailey got as a wedding gift from the girls' fairy godmother.

...I'm gonna explain everything, but it's a helluva ride, so buckle up. Time travel is heavily involved, so be warned. It gets confusing.

The earliest seeds of this start not in Bailey's relationship with Dick, exactly, but with a cryptic warning from a random blonde girl with a very strong grip and intense orange eyes. She tells Bailey to "stay away from the peacock man" and... Vanishes back into the crowd.

Bailey brushes it off as a prank from some weird kid.

Fast forward a little bit, and Bailey gets called in to body-double for Princess Lydia of Valdania. The country is in political turmoil, Lyd is announcing a marriage of state, the risk of assassination attempts is high. There's a masquerade ball involved, because what's the point of fanfic if not self-indulgence, and Bailey encounters a man dressed as a peacock. She has completely forgotten the warning from the weird kid, but her "bodyguard" steps in before she can accept this wierdo's request for a dance. That becomes important later, I promise.

At some point, through some kind of Star Trek Bullshit, I'm sending Bailey into the 30th century. Someone else needs to be with her; it can't be Wally, for obvious reasons. She gets back with the help of Cary Wren, the GL of the time, but... Cary misses the target by about a decade. Bailey lands about ten-to-fifteen years ahead of when she left, practically in the lap of a twenty-something Lian. (Lian is growing up normal, fuck canon, this whole "Shoes" thing is stupid.) Bailey panics once she realizes she's not when she's supposed to be, and who she's looking at. She's familiar enough with the scifi genre to know that finding out your own future is bad. Lian is trying to do damage control, making sure Bailey learns as little as possible, while still getting her home. But she can't keep a perfect lid on things, and Bailey comes face to face with a very curious child -- One with red-gold curls framing her freckled face, a gaptoothed grin, and giant, almond-shaped eyes, blue as cornflowers.

Everyone freezes. Chris -- now also an adult -- scoops the child away as fast as he can. Bailey does not understand the tension in the room. She has a niece, clearly. That kid looked exactly like her nephew Aiden did at her age. Obviously Phoebe had another kid. Why a civilian child is here is a mystery, but she's trying really hard not to think about that.

The other person on the adventure with her points out the obvious. Bailey laughs it off -- It's pretty much physically impossible for her to have kids. And who would the dad even be? She'd be an awful mother besides. Nah, no way. That cycle ends here. (The thought had crossed her mind, but it scared the shit out of her, so she shoved it down deep.)

Fast forward a bit. Bailey freaks out and runs away from an actual relationship beginning with Dick, because change is hard and scary and good things never stay and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah commitment. I've talked about this a little.

To be more specific, she runs away to space with Kyle. While in space with Kyle, the party runs afoul of a Black Mercy. Bailey gets sucked into a dream. She's married to Dick, and has been for fourteen years. They're both going gray, getting old. Together. They have a little yellow house with a porch swing and a picket fence. There's a shelter cat, a cranky old-as-hell ginger tabby with one good eye. The sidewalk is covered in chalk drawings.

And they have two fantastic, adorable, smartmouthed daughters. Jamie's older, eleven, and already almost as tall as her father. Rachel is six, and steals the chocolate chips from the pancakes Dick makes on Sundays. They're both bright, compassionate, opinionated girls, so full of light and life and joy. Jamie has Bailey's righteous anger and outspoken nature. Rachel has Dick's quick mind and mischievous tendencies. Bailey loves them, loves this life, so much. It's everything she's ever wanted. Everything she didn't realize she wanted. Everything she was afraid to let herself want.

But she does. She wants it so, so much.

And then Zyzzanyx, the imp she'd... encountered... previously (that's another post) pops in. Explains that she's gonna die if she doesn't make herself wake up -- that Kyle and Laney and the others are gonna get hurt if she doesn't help them. And Bailey has to let it all go.

(The Man Who Has Everything did not do enough exploration of the long-term psychological ramifications of this concept to suit me, okay?)

Bailey is deeply shaken by this dream. She starts to realize that she does want to be a parent, but the idea of stability and putting down roots still scares the hell out of her. It takes someone else pointing out that she's already basically adopted Lanos, the amnesiac navcom AI who is from another Earth, for her to really start to come around to the idea.

...This is what leads to her freakout that has her knocking on Ollie's door at four in the morning, unleashing a wall of text, and recounting the whole tale so far over several bowls of chili.

Unfortunately, Laney leaves. Bailey doesn't really have a stable place to share with a teenager, and... Lanos has a big sister to get to know, and a whole new universe to explore. They stay in contact, but it's a bit like sending your kid off to boarding school.

Shortly after that, she leaves for Los Angeles. She doesn't really have anywhere to stay, having lost her apartment while in space, and she's been couch surfing. Bette offers her a proper room in her penthouse apartment in LA, and a chance to rebuild the Titans West. Bailey takes her up on it. Staying in the Gotham/Metropolis/NYC area was too close to Bludhaven and Dick anyway; the further away she could get from him, the better.

From there, the next big chapter we get in this saga is what I refer to as the Little Mercies Arc. And this one I need to do a lot of research before I write, I know. But essentially, someone is making designer drugs derived from a Black Mercy they got ahold of and embiggified to a truly dangerous degree. You know those century-old rhododendron bushes that are the size of a small car? It's like that. But Bailey and Jason take this person down, and burn the stash.

...Or. Most of the stash, anyway. Bailey picks up a single sleeve of the Little Mercies. She tells herself it's for research. Study. Finding out how it was made. But it's not. She knows it's not.

She misses her daughters. She misses the life she could have lived, if she hadn't fucked things up with Dick. She's only human, after all.

You can see where that's going.

Bailey stabilizes, gets some help, starts getting better. She gets more involved with the local community, doing volunteer work and stuff; that was Ollie's idea, and it's a good one. She forms connections with people, even starting a new relationship with an old acquaintance, Jonah Pavoni -- a nurse, formerly from Central, who helped her decide to take up being a superhero.

...Cut ahead about... Twentyish years or so. Metropolis. Four teenagers in spandex are in hot pursuit of a man in a peacock-themed outfit. They are:

A speedster in green -- Kickstart, also known as Trenton Swift; currently the second-youngest ward of the West-Allen clan, until his parents can be found.

An acrobat in blue-and-black -- Madcap, Blythe Phillips; daughter of forcibly-retired minor-league supervillains Punch and Jewlee, seeking to redeem her family name through vigilantism.

A blonde Kryptonian girl with orange eyes -- Liora of Kandor, once Liora Tyr-Van; an escapee of the bottled city, hoping to find a way to unshrink her people before their resources run out. I'm leaning towards Spitfire for a name.

And at the front of this quartet, a young archer, black-haired, blue-eyed, and both enraged and terrified. Rachel Marion Grayson-Adler, Fledgling, third-generation superhero. She's eager to prove herself, and desperate to stop the man ahead of them.

He's headed for the Jules Verne Museum, after the time-bubble Clark donated, the one he used to visit the 30th Century growing up. If he gets ahold of it, if he jumps back to when he wants... It could literally wipe her family out of existence.

Unfortunately, they don't make it. The guy gets away with the time-bubble. So what do a bunch of 15-17yos do to solve this problem?

Steal the other time-bubble from the Flash Museum, obviously.

They leap into the timestream after him, but none of them know how to pilot the dang thing. Ray and Liora are trying to shoot the other bubble down. Blythe is hitting random buttons because one of these things has to help, right? Trent is just trying to steer while the three girls move around the tiny, cramped ship.

...Both bubbles crash. All five time-travellers are now scattered along the timeline. And this is where it gets confusing, so stay with me.

Blythe lands on a random rooftop in Gotham, just before the whole thing with the dragon-wizard from another dimension. That is also its own post. But that happens after Bailey gets back from space but before Laney heads out.

Liora tumbles into the middle of Bailey's team-up with Kara, Bette, and Shayera. She helps, but she also has to gtfo because the giant robot dinosaur they're fighting is kryptonite-powered.

Trent... Actually snaps back to the time they left, and goes for help in the form of the Team's Designated Older Siblings, Jamie and Wade.

Rachel crashes into the middle of the West-Park dining table, appearing out of thin air, at roughly the same time Bailey is getting her head back on straight.

And the other guy, the one they were chasing? His bubble lands in the wrong time, but not too far off the mark. He's outside a small volunteer clinic in Keystone City. It doesn't take much use of his touch-telepathy to steal the knowledge, training, and clothes of an unlucky nurse, a witness to the crash, and he slides in seamlessly. He's now Jonah Pavoni, RN.

Jonah's plan all along was to steal the time-bubble and go back to before the love of his life -- the woman who saved him, the brilliant, shining angel, the ethereal wonder he's loved since childhood -- before she married some asshole who didn't deserve her. When he crashed in the wrong place and time, he didn't know if he'd ever find her again. But three days later, the Pied Piper drags her in. She's injured, but the wounds are more mental than physical. Of course -- his goddess couldn't be brought down so easily. She just needs... A little encouragement. A nudge or two. He can help with that.

It's like fate brought him exactly when and where he needed to be, placed him in an even better position to convince Bailey of his devotion. Now nothing could keep them apart -- not the misalignment of their ages, not distance, not that stupid neglectful jackass. No, now he could be here for Bailey, from the very beginning, building her up, adoring her, showing her the worship she deserves. Finally, he could be hers, and she could be his. As it was always meant to be.

...Man's a little bit not right in the head.

Blythe and Liora are trying to find their friends, and worrying about Jonah later. Liora crosses paths with Bailey once, and in the interest of still having her best friend to find, tries to warn Bailey to be careful. It doesn't work that well.

Rachel, however, needs to find Jonah right now immediately. While also keeping her identity secret from her extended family and avoiding the hell out of anyone who might recognize her, so she doesn't Marty McFly herself out of existence. She's a walking ball of anxiety, my poor lanky dorito girl.

Wally would like to help, but she keeps saying she isn't allowed to talk to him about it and there are time-travel rules and he has no fucking clue who this sassy lost child is but she called him Uncle Wally so clearly she's family of some kind. But his family is really damn big, and he doesn't know who he's supposed to help her avoid. She's an archer with super strength, she might be Roy and Donna's kid? Somehow? But she also used the phrase "Uncle Clark," and her eyes are really blue, and she has that dorky little forehead curl -- Kon has weird time-travelling clone daughters, right? And... He and Bart are close...?

While all that is going on, Trent, Jamie, and Wade arrive in the present day. They're in Gotham. It's a full moon. On Friday night. Naturally, things are going sideways all over the city. The addition of two speedsters and an acrobat are easy enough to hide. ... For a bit. Eventually they get spotted by the local nosy busybodies. Wade is completely unfazed by the arrival of the bat, Trent is mildly shocked to see Mr. Wayne still in the suit, and Jamie is dying because that's her grandpa how could this go any wronger.

More bats show up, that's how. Including Dick.

They eventually nab Blythe -- who has been having fun stopping criminals, harassing the local vigilantes, and bonding with Steph in the few months she's been stranded -- and as they're trying to leave, Dick puts it all together. He has a daughter. From a future that, after Bailey literally left the planet to avoid putting a name on whatever was happening between them, seems unreachable.

Things get emotional, obviously, and moreso when they part. Jamie can't stick around, she has to find the others. No, Dick can't help, he's already figured out too much and putting the fabric of spacetime at risk. Or something.

Dick, reluctantly, lets them leave to go find Liora. I'm not totally sure where she's been during all this, but I'm batting a few ideas around. They grab her and set to finding Rachel.

While all this is happening, Jonah reveals the full truth to Bailey. He's the kid she saved in her latest adventure. He's been in love with her for two decades, since that fateful moment. He's crossed time and space and warped the laws of reality just to be with her. He'd planned to just come back to this point, but what he'd gotten -- this chance to get to know her, to watch her become the hero he always admired -- it was more than he ever could have dreamed.

And now, now they could be together. He's finally repaired the time bubble. They can sweep away to the time he left, have a life together. He's waited for her for so long, can't she see how much he adores her? Won't she be his?

...Bailey, on her end, has had a series of bombs dropped on her. By a guy she's not even sure she can call her boyfriend yet. Ending in what sure as hell sounds like a proposal? And he... Might be a kid?? She says no, like any sane person would, with a few expletives thrown in.

Jonah does not like this answer. He didn't want it to go like this, but... He reaches for Bailey. If she won't love him willingly, he'll just make it happen.

THWIP!

Suddenly there's an arrow sticking through Jonah's palm.

"STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM HER," Rachel screams, barely clinging to her vantage point.

A fight naturally ensues. I don't have it choreographed well, but we wind up with all three parties -- Bailey and Jonah; Rachel and Wally; Jamie, Wade, Trent, Liora, and Blythe -- all in the same space. During the chaos, Rachel falls from some great height, while injured. Bailey dives after her.

It's too great a fall for her to survive, if she can't recover. And with her wounded -- maybe Jonah has, like, feather-shaped daggers and he stuck one in her side? -- she can't do much. Bailey is trying, but she can't quite reach --

-- and then two feathered wings, shining a brilliant gold, like flame and sunrise, unfurl from Rachel's back.

Ray scrambles to pull up, flapping awkwardly, moving on instinct alone. She pulls up, rising into the air, crowing and laughing and on one hell of an adrenaline high. Bailey helps her get back to the others. Ray gets patched up. There's celebration and relief and joy. Someone makes a "Literal Flying Grayson" joke. Wally still wants an explanation, please and thank you?

Once all that gets shook out, Bailey turns to Jonah. He tried to kill her daughter. He is a threat to her girls, and he won't stop until he's stopped permanently. Clearly, there's only one thing to do.

Wally steps in, trying to plead for mercy. Bailey laughs, and agrees. She'll show him mercy, alright.

...Remember that giant mega Black Mercy? It went into the care of one Dr. Pamela Isley, retired since her wedding to Harley, and considered mostly rehabilitated. Her indoor garden has a real nice skylight.

So yeah. Bailey can show him a little mercy, alright.

There's a whole lotta crying as the time-travellers make their goodbyes. Bailey tries to put on a brave face, because you gotta for your kids, but she doubts she'll ever see their future. But she's so, so proud of them, and she loves them so much.

Fast-forward a bit again. Throughout Bailey and Dick patching things up and figuring out a relationship for real, there's a whole lot of dramatic tension as they both try to keep their mouths shut about the possible future they've both seen, but don't know the other one knows about. Bailey is scared to death that Dick would be with her for that future -- only a possibility she doesn't even know how to reach -- and not for anything inherent to her, and Dick doesn't want to put any pressure on Bailey and make her run away again. It's a whole thing! But they do work it out, and... Well, wedding bells do ring.

And Bailey gets a very unusual wedding gift from Zyzzanyx, her old ally. A small chest, containing what sure looks like two tulip bulbs. Zazz explains that these'll grow into the girls, so... She and Dick can plant 'em when they're ready. It's old magic, and it'll take a drop of blood from each parent, but, well. She's fond of the little rugrats too, she guesses. And watching Bailey be miserable about not having them is, y'know, depressing or whatever.

Bailey thanks Zazz for this, and releases the imp from her life-debt. (Like I said, that's it's own post; this is already a mile long.)

The girls eventually happen. Jamie is roughly of an age with Wade, less than a year younger. Ray is born about five years after that, I think. They grow up safe and happy and loved, with a phenomenally huge number of aunts and uncles and grandparents.

There are many arguments and discussions regarding youthful vigilantism and sidekickery, but once again, Bailey cannot stop the future. It's allowed, but under very strict conditions regarding school and social lives. Jamie begins training at age fifteen, taking on the name Dawnbird, and patrolling with her dad.

Rachel learns archery from Aunt Cissie, and then from Uncle Roy and Grandpa Ollie, when she won't be deterred from masking up once she turns fifteen. She uses Fledgeling as her moniker, one of her mother's nicknames for her, as something of an olive branch. Bailey relents and lets Ray be her partner.

I could go on, but I think this post is long enough as is. Most of the rest of what I have is bits and pieces and fun facts anyway. If there's anything anyone's curious about or wants me to elaborate on -- or if you need a diagram, 'cause I got a little Charlie Day here -- my askbox is open!

[infinityactual]

Ngl, being (apparently exactly) half your age is fun because making people about my mom's age feel Old is enrichment for me (love u, have a nice day)

Hey man I love feelin old.

It's funny, growing up undiagnosed autistic and adhd in an abusive, authoritarian household really messed up my perception of what growing up is like. I have since officially cut contact with my abusive family (they didn't even react aside from signing the registered mail receipt lolololol) but even before that, I often thought a lot about what its like being in my thirties.

(Brief mentions of assault and abuse below he cut, nothing detailed just mentions as examples for context. This got a little rambly, I've had a lot on my mind regarding age the last few years.)

And being that old? It's. Not different. The phrase 'the more things change, the more they stay the same' never really made sense to me as a kid, but it hits home nowadays. I'm still me, but between growing and learning as I age and the realization that I'm probably not who I was told I was, it makes sense. I change. But I stay the same. It's like adding extra paint to a canvas. It's still a canvas, but there's more to it now. It will always be a canvas, but it's a canvas that is also different than it was before. It's changed, but it's the same.

My mom is one of those people who (literally at times) beat into me that if you got assaulted or raped or murdered, it was somehow YOUR fault for being too stupid or dressing too provocative or some other bullshit reason, and that I was sooo trusting and sooo stupid that I would probably end up dead before I hit 25.

And being on the spectrum and adhd and...well, a fuckin CHILD, I believed it.

It took three therapists and a psychiatrist, plus pretty much everyone I talk to going "Uh hey [x] isn't normal, that's abuse and you probably have [y] issues" for it to really sink in that my mother was wrong. That happened in 2020, right at the start of lockdown. Almost 5 years later and I still get kicked in the head with past traumas. I'm still sorting everything out. It's gonna take a while.

But I'm 38. Over a decade past the age when I thought I'd be dead. And only this year after deciding not to let the trauma and bad memories surrounding my birthday did I really understand how fucked up it is to fully expect to be dead at a young age without any sort of preexisting issues going on (it's also not a good way to live if you DO have medical issues that could kill you, but that is not what I'm getting into today).

I still feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. And it's not a 'my death could happen any second' feeling, it's a more insidious 'what if my death comes from my spouse, whom I love and trust implicitly?' thing, with an added feeling of anxiety because on bad brain days I try to look for red flags where there are none.

And the real kicker: that sort of trust was already violated when I was a toddler, possibly younger, and kept being violated till I left home.

It's a lot to think about. Like several boxes of puzzles all dumped on the floor at once. I pick through the pieces, sometimes things click, but mostly it's just a mess.

But I am glad I lived. I'm glad that I am still here to prove that I'm not 'too stupid' to survive. I like being the server dinosaur on Discord. I like being there for younger folks who went through or still are in the shit. Cos I'm proof it gets better. I'm proof that abusers are liars and so are the mental problems abuse instills in a mind. They're liars that tell you horrible things. I argue back. I have gotten into the habit of responding to the thoughts in my mother's voice yelling at me by telling her she can fuck off.

She can fuck off and I'll still be here loving the same shit I did in school. In fact, things I loved have been coming back to me. I'm still me, but I've changed. The only thing adult about me is my age and that I have bills and taxes. I've cultivated patience. Learned that I was never wrong to give kindness and expect it in return. I've grown. And I love being old.

[mywifeleftme]

196: Earth // The Bees Made Honey in the Lion's Skull

The Bees Made Honey in the Lion's Skull Earth 2008, Southern Lord (Bandcamp)

The most money I’ve ever spent on a vinyl record is on the stupid fucking quadruple LP Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness boxed set, but that was only because I allegedly scuffed the first track on the first side of LP1 of my friend’s copy while putting it away at a party, so I had to buy him a replacement and got his old dinged one—but I’ll write about that another time. The most money I’ve ever spent on a vinyl record I wanted was on Earth’s The Bees Made Honey in the Lion’s Skull, and specifically on one of the editions bound in faux Bible leather that Southern Lord reissues from time to time. From the first time I heard the record back in 2008, from the first time I read the title really, Bees has held a strange fascination for me. Despite being a broke college kid, I ordered a Bees Made Honey hoodie using my first credit card and hemmed and hawed over whether to snag the leather record, though I didn’t even know how to use a turntable. I didn’t end up actually scoring a copy till more than a decade later, by which time I’d already pretty well carved the thing’s grooves so deep in my brain I didn’t need to listen anymore to hear its contents.

The inner sleeve.

Still, there’s the pleasure of handling it, opening up the gatefold and reading the hoary language in elaborately-filigreed gold text:

“from strength sweetness from darkness light the bees made honey in the lion’s skull”

A1. Omens and Portents 1: The Driver A2: Rise to Glory B3: Miami Morning Coming Down II (Shine) B4. Engine of Ruin C5: Omens and Portents II: Carrion Crow C6: Hung from the Moon D7: The Bees Made Honey in the Lion’s Skull D8: Junkyard Priest

I grew up just religious enough to really fear God and love His language, especially as filtered through all the fantastical art that’s borrowed the diction of the King James Version to command a sense of gravitas. It’s a tone of voice that still compels me, and it’s the perfect dressing for this era of Earth’s looming, desertified music. Starting with 2005’s comeback Hex; or Printing in the Infernal Method, Earth has been working on a form of Western-inspired instrumental post-rock that looks to the Bible and fire-and-brimstone writers like Cormac McCarthy for words to match the weathered lurch of Dylan Carlson’s lithic guitar. Bees continues this direction, and it’s broadly considered the best of the band’s later efforts: something elemental captured in the songs; extra pristine production; sterling contributions from Steve Moore on a variety of pianos and organs, plus famed jazz guitarist Bill Frisell; and above all the languid pulse of drummer Adrienne Davies, the sheer weight of her pauses (best exemplified on the title track).

When Davies joined the band in 2002, she became the long-term musical partner Carlson had never really had, and her playing has become as distinctive a signature of Earth’s sound as his. In the exhaustive 2023 documentary Even Hell Has Its Heroes, her interview is the most enlightening from a musical perspective. An amateur when she began casually jamming with Carlson, she soon found that all of the drumming instructors and guides she consulted emphasized focusing on how to refine the angles of her playing, minimizing the time and effort required to play a beat. But for Davies, playing in a band whose rhythm swells and resides like the breathing of a massive steer, this advice ran counter: her arms wave in slow, swooping arcs, drawing out the tempo in the air before falling into the drums, letting gravity provide the consequential force.

Despite the band’s mugshot stares and stupendous volume, that signal phrase holds: “from strength sweetness / from darkness light.” There’s no violence in this songs, only some obdurate quality of endurance; no aggression, only flickers of the transcendent among the amps. That’s the notion embedded in its title, a nourishing work transpiring within sinister ruins.

196/365