#for context I’ve only ever told my mom about one girl before and I was last year and her reaction was meh at best

[singlethread]

Just like if you would’ve told me a few months ago that I’d have a partner and that my mom would be actively supportive of it and that I’d get to be with someone who makes me feel this special and happy and safe

[yesimwriting]

Final Girl (Part 10)

 Final Girl Masterlist  (updated chapters 1-10 and extras, asks/extras involving the final girl fic verse are under the tag ‘final girl fic’)

A/n i’m leaning towards starting to write shorter chapters in order to be able to update a little faster but idk

Series Summary:  Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at  Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s.

Chapter Summary: The aftermath of learning that a certain redheaded journalist is making you a focal point of her true crime novel. 

----

In the least cynical way possible, sometimes I think a part of my mom craves conflict. Not in a narcissistic or violent way, just in a protective one. 

She doesn’t pick fights for the sake of having them, she doesn’t tear into things for the rush of adrenaline or to feed some complex. My mom likes standing up for people in a way that would be annoyingly self righteous if it was any less genuine. Any incident that could be interpreted as blood in the water has her diving in head first, ready to ward off any potential sharks. 

That’s why nothing about this rampage is surprising. She’s been pacing the length of the kitchen without giving the phone in her hand a break, typing out numbers at an unbelievable speed, only occasionally pausing to flip through the phone book on the counter. 

“Well then put me through,” she stalls long enough to put a hand on her hip, “Not to an assistant, not to the station, or the publishing company. Get Gale Weathers on the phone. Now.” 

This is the third time she’s pulled this stunt since I walked into the kitchen to grab a pity snack. The way she presses her lips together tells me that this time hasn’t been any more successful. “She’s too busy? Well, I hope she’s not too busy for a law su--” Something cuts her off. My mom blinks. “Hello?” 

“I told you that threatening to sue people wouldn’t work over the phone.” 

She pulls the phone away from her ear with a sigh. “It’s not a threat if I mean it.” The phone is placed on the counter as she turns her attention to the phone book. “That woman can’t do this. You, and your legal guardian, never consented to your likeness or story being used.” 

Unfortunately, that’s not completely true. Or, at the very least, it’s not that concrete or straight forward. When something’s news, information becomes a lot less easy to claim as personal or yours. Especially if personal information is kept vague enough. The second I was attacked by Ghostface and the news reported it, a lot of me in that context became a lot less legally sound. I’d have to prove it defamed me or hurt my life, which can’t be done before the book comes out. 

“We can’t prove that until the book is out.” 

She sighs, “There has to be something.” My mom taps her manicured nails against the granite counter top. 

My stomach twists with helplessness as the most urgent issue rushes to the front of my mind. It’s more than just someone taking advantage of my trauma or the fact that books are so much more permanent than any news headline ever could be. Books take time to come out, to circulate, which means that this tell all could reach its peak during my college app season. Princeton could see this. All colleges could see this. 

“Mom...” I can feel the tremor in my voice, but I can’t bring myself to stop it.

In a way, isn’t this best case scenario? Compared to what could have happened? Isn’t this such a small thing compared to what happened to Casey? I know this, but I can’t quite bring myself to feel it fully. Not when it comes to something I’ve worked for my entire life.

“What if--what if this gets in the way of Princeton?” 

She presses her lips together, watching me openly in a way that’s become familiar. “Oh, pumpkin,” she breathes, moving across the counter to pull me into a hug, “I’m sorry you’re going through this.” I squeeze her tightly. “And that I don’t know what to say or how to help.” She smooths my hair down gently. “But when it comes to school, all you can do is keep up your grades and when the time comes, write the best essay you can. And if they’re stupid enough to turn down your weirdly-good grades and insane resume, then screw Princeton.” 

Despite myself, I smile. Those soft digs at my type-A-ness aren’t lost on me and the sense of familiarity I get from them instantly make it easier. “Thanks.” 

“Yeah, and if you want, you could always write your own tell-all book that would outsell hers because yours is from the--” 

“Excuse me?” 

She lets go of me, taking a step back at my offense. “I’m not telling you to write it, I’m just saying a published book would look good on an Ivy-league application.” 

Sometimes I’m so crazy about school that I forget my mom is also capable of insanity. “Mom!” 

My mom lets out a sigh. “What? You’ve been obsessed with Princeton since your dad gave you his old college sweatshirt in the third grade, but now I’m crazy?” 

She’s half joking and I know she’d never actually push me to write something like that, but my stomach still turns. Yes, I have made a ton of jokes about having no morals when it comes to college apps, but it’s different now. Anything that has to do with that Ghostface stuff feels tainted. I don’t want success from him. I don’t want anything good from Casey’s death.

I pick up the spoon that’s sunken into my partially melted bowl of ice cream. “I am not exploiting this.”

She holds her hands up in defense, “It’d ruin Gale’s book, jump start your career in journalism.” My mom extends an arm, asking for my spoon. I sigh before handing it to her. She eats a healthy spoonful of ice cream. “Two birds, one stone.” 

I scoff, taking the spoon back and eating my own spoonful. "You’re sick.” 

My mom steps back form the counter. “Just a suggestion.” 

I’m about to assert my previous point when the doorbell rings. I raise an eyebrow at my mom, silently asking if I’m expecting anyone. I’m not so I just shrug, moving away from the counter and towards the door.

There’s a chance it could be Wells. He’s at work, but it wouldn’t be the first time he forgot his keys. I peak out the window and am instantly pleasantly surprised. I’m more excited than I can justify as I reach for the front door’s lock. 

The door creaks open and I fight down a grin. I don’t know why they’re here, but I don’t mind the unexpected visit. I had been planning on moping and rotting in bed until school. 

“Hey,” I mumble, latching onto my surprise. 

Stu flashes a warm smile in greeting, “Hey, sweetheart.” 

I wrinkle my nose at the nickname despite its tameness. My mom’s way too close for that. I’m torn between making a joke about it and avoiding drawing attention to my concern and giving Stu a reason to push. I settle on looking over at Billy. He’s standing in a way that feels a little stiff. 

There’s a chance they called first, since they usually do when they come over through the front door instead of just showing up at my window. “If you called, my mom’s sort of taken over our phone line.” They both already know about Gale’s book and the fact that she’s editing it to include me, since they were both there when I found out. That still doesn’t make it easy to talk about, “She’s hunting down Gale Weathers.”

"Then I’m scared for Gale Weathers.” Stu raises his eyebrows, exaggerating concern.

Billy nods once, “She deserves it.” 

That’s true. I wasn’t exactly kind to her during our brief meeting, but she ambushed me at school after I was attacked. But that can’t be enough to justify what she’s doing now, especially without so much as a ‘heads up, you’re in my book’ phone call. If you’re going to potentially ruin someone’s future because they happened to have survived a serial killer, it wouldn’t kill you to call first. 

“Anything...else up?” Stu’s question surprises me. Maybe I didn’t react fast enough or I still look as worried about all of this as I feel. 

I don’t want to get into the details of my concern. I freaked out in front of them enough after I saw Gale’s announcement on TV, but there’s no way I can get away with acting like I’m perfectly okay with it all now. I guess I’ll go with deflecting, “Just my mom being a total college obsessed psycho.”

The corner of Billy’s mouth tilts upwards, almost a smile. “You had to get it from somewhere.” 

I glare at him in a way that I really hope is cutting. “Shut up. I’m not psycho.” 

“I’ve seen the Princeton poster in your roo--” I shake my head sharply, extending an arm to softly punch Stu’s arm. 

He stops, more out of surprise than decency. I drop my voice to a low whisper in order to explain, “My mom’s not that distracted, and she doesn’t know you’ve ever been in my room.” Stu grins at my seriousness. “And she can never find out.” 

This only makes him grin more openly, “Keeping secrets for me?” 

“I’m not above kicking you guys out.” 

Billy sighs, a defensive huff. “I didn’t do anything.” 

A slightly too aggressive you brought him here almost slips out, but I manage to stop it. Maybe if I was in a more joking, lighthearted mood I’d let myself make that kind of aggressive joke, but I’m moody and there’s a good chance my irritation will slip into that. it’ll taint the comment and make it something a lot more serious than it’s supposed to be. 

“Yet,” I settle on, trying to feel as easy as the comment.

He frowns, eyebrows pulling together like he just watched me kick a puppy. After a second, Billy parts his lips, but he doesn’t get to say anything back. 

“Who’s at the door?” My mom’s voice carries from the hall and to the entryway, a moment later she appears. I turn my head in time to see her polite smile, a little irate thanks to how the last day and a half have been. “Oh, hi, Billy, Stu.’’ Her greeting is flatter than usual as she barely takes a second to look up from the phone. “Come in, come in.” 

I step back to create space for them to come in. Despite my mom’s instinctual fall back to politeness, she barely notices the difference as she hits redial before pressing the phone to her ear. “Do you guys want anything to drink or...are you hungry or...going...” She trails off, attention visibly shifting as she waves us off, “Hello, can I--look, that’s great, Jocelyn, but I need to get in touch with your supervisor?” 

With one last force-of-habit smile, she turns away from the entryway and walks out. I walk towards the front door, instinctually shutting and locking it. “That’s basically my life now.” 

“Poor thing,” Stu’s voice is thick with false sympathy, “Your mommy’s fixing everything for--” 

“Shut up.” The reply comes out too quickly, too serious.

Stu blinks once, clearly not expecting the hint of actual tension and hostility that managed to press itself into the two words. “Someone’s moody.” 

I squeeze my eyes shut for a long second. “Sorry, I didn’t--” Sighing, I try to force the stiffness out of my body. “This book thing’s starting to get to me. I know that’s not an excuse, I just--” I don’t know how to explain the knot in my throat or the nerves in my stomach. 

The thought of this one thing I was delusional enough to think that I might be able to one day put behind me being everywhere is starting to claw at my insides. That helplessness is being amplified by a strange form of guilt, because I’m the one that’s still alive, so why should I get to complain? 

“Hey,” Stu interrupts my derailing train of thought. He places a hand on my shoulder, “No hard feelings, okay?” 

I nod, irritated at myself for the tears I feel burning in my eyes. “Okay.”

“You wanna get out of here?” Billy’s question is so low I almost convince myself I made it up. But then he lets out a breath and tacts on something else, “...Or we could go upstairs or watch a movie or whatever?”

The offer is so gentle I nearly melt. “Did you guys want to do something?”

They did come here, probably for a reason. Not that they never come over just to hang out, but they usually have some kind of plan or suggestion, like going over to Stu’s or driving around or watching a specific movie. 

“Just wanted to see how you were doing.” Billy’s reply comes out slowly, his eyes not fully focused on me. “We called and you didn’t answer, and after the news thing...”

That’s fair. I did leave Stu’s house pretty fast after the Gale Weathers thing and haven’t talked to anyone outside of my house for over 24 hours. Usually people worrying about how I’m handling things makes me feel uncomfortably hollow, but this doesn’t make any of that come up. Maybe it’s because they’re not making it feel like pity. 

“Uh...” There’s honestly not much that seems fun right now. A part of me still wants to crawl under my covers and pretend that nothing else exists, but they’ve pulled me out worse moods before. “I can show you guys that album I was talking about?” The offer feels weak, a little hollow. Stu squeezes my shoulder before relaxing his arm. “The CD’s in my room.” I shrug, looking between the two of them, “Or we could do whatever.” 

“You’ve been talking about that CD for a long time for someone who always forgets to bring it.” Stu’s not even trying to hide his accusation as he starts walking down the hallway.

I cross my arms, giving Billy a look that asks if he can believe all I have to deal with. “Yeah, I’m just worried your top 20 pallet is too complex for our tastes to ever overlap.” 

Stu scoffs, “Yeah, I’m the one that’s into top 20.” 

“Out of the three of us?” Billy’s question rivals Stu’s blatant sarcasm. 

I fight down a smile as Stu turns his head enough to glare. The display of irritation is short lived, because Stu has to turn back around to avoid tripping on the first stair step. He nearly misses, but recovers so quickly I wouldn’t have noticed the misstep if I hadn’t been looking at him. Sometimes his stability surprises me, because Stu’s energetic and lanky enough to warrant being a little clumsy, but he’s a lot better at not tripping than me. 

We walk up the stairs, the only sound filling the space is my mom’s voice, too far for any specifics to be made out. 

“I think I miss your mom not trusting us.” Stu lets out a wistful sigh.

Rolling my eyes, I push open the door to my room. “Don’t worry, she’s just distracted.” 

Even though my mom’s phone tirade is definitely helping her be so easy, I know what he’s talking about. When Billy and Stu first started hanging around, my mom felt the need to hover a lot more. She’d check up on us a lot more than she would when I was alone with Sidney or Tatum. My mom would also make a lot of jokes and comments in order to pry as (not so) subtly as possible. Slowly, she became more accustomed (or maybe desensitized), to them and now my mom acts a lot more normal in front of them. When they leave, she normally still pushes a little, usually through humor, but it’s a lot more tolerable now.

Stu walks into my room before I can, walking towards my bed. “We’re growing on her.”

I sit down next to him. “Or she finally gets that you two barely register as guys to me.” 

Stu moves, intentionally bumping his knee into mine, hard enough to make my knee move. Once he has my attention, he flexes an arm. “I’m all man, angel.”

There’s an exaggerated quality to his reaction that I can’t tell if I’m meant to take seriously or not. It’s the uncertainty that makes me let out a slight laugh. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

He turns his head, leaning back slightly as he presses his palms into my comforter. “Then how’d you mean it?” 

My face feels a little warmer than before and I can’t figure out what that’s about. I’m used to Stu pressing after comments like this. Sometimes his humor focuses on making someone feel uncomfortable. Retreating or acting awkward gives him a reason to keep pushing. But I have no good way to answer. 

I wipe my hands on the fabric of my jeans. “Don’t start.” 

“Maybe I don’t get it.” 

I stand, throwing him a dirty look as I move towards my CD player. “Maybe you’re full of shit.” 

He huffs, “Mean.”

My fingers skim the row of CDs on my desk before finding the one I’m looking for. I use my nail to pop open the case. “Yeah, I’m a real bully.” Billy, who’s been lingering near my desk, opens my CD player before I can. I set the disk in place. “Can you believe him?” 

Billy shakes his head once, a few strands of hair falling out of place with the motion. He picks up the CD case and starts studying the back of it. “I can’t believe you can’t.” 

Stu lets out a distracted sound of protest. I wouldn’t be surprised if I turned around and found him fidgeting with something. My room’s not a total disaster, but I’ve been too busy moping to fully clean it, so there are a lot of contenders for things Stu could be messing with. I can’t think of anything that’s within his reach that’s embarrassing or important, so I let it go. Billy seems a little tense and considering the headspace he was in the last time I saw him, figuring that out is important. 

“Fair,” I hum, shutting the CD player, “You uh--” His eyes flit upwards, away from the CD case. The look is kind of stiff, but not annoyed or wary. It makes me realize that I don’t really have a good way to finish my sentence. Asking if someone’s okay never feels natural. Especially when he’s only been here for a few. “You okay?” I force myself to focus on the CD player, messing with the volume instead fo just hitting play. “You seem a little tense.” 

He sets the plastic case down. “I’m okay.” Billy straightens, shifting his weight off of my desk. The movement is small, he hasn’t even taken a full step, but the change makes him feel a lot closer. “Just can’t believe she can do that.” His tone takes on such a hard edge it takes me a second to realize what he’s talking about. Is the book thing really bothering him that much? “To you, to--does she think she’s untouchable? That guy’s still out there, what makes her think he won’t find her and rip that bitch’s--”

Billy cuts himself off with no warning, eyes focusing on me. I blink. Billy might come off as intense and reserved before you know him, but he’s never seemed explosive or prone to emotional impulsivity like that. Even when I briefly thought he could have been the killer, he never came off as aggressive. He never even held the fact that I put his life in danger and accused him of being a serial killer against me. 

This tension is new and it came from feeling defensive over me. The realization that it has something to do over me makes me more antsy than Billy’s actual words. 

“Woah,” Stu says through a dry laugh. “Relax, dude, there’s no need to write the next news story for her.” Stu swings an arm over my shoulder. I’m still stuck on what just happened, so it takes me a millisecond too long to weakly attempt to get Stu off of me. He pinches my shoulder, the nail of his thumb digging into my skin just enough for it to register as stinging. “You’re in poor Billy’s head.” I can’t tell if Stu’s teasing is meant to be sympathetic towards Billy or accusatory towards me. “Give the boy a break.” 

My chin briefly tilts downwards, a compulsory movement that seems to genuinely want to listen to what’s clearly a joking command. “I’ll try.” 

Stu relaxes his hold on me, dragging his thumb up and down the exposed skin of my shoulder, soothing the skin he accidentally irritated. I extend my arm, turning on the music absentmindedly. The room doesn’t exactly feel tense, but I feel a lot smaller than I did a few seconds ago. I don’t know if it’s because of the dip into a gory, too real topic or Stu’s comment or if I’m still just irritable.

“Guess it’s not your fault,” Stu hums, squeezing my shoulder once, “You can’t help being lovable.”

I try to keep myself focused as I adjust the volume of the first song. “That’s true.” He lets go of me and I stand a little straighter. “We all have our faults.” 

Billy lets out a breath that’s suspiciously close to a laugh. “Yeah, your only flaw’s that you’re too perfect.” 

“You were the one ready to support a murder for her,” Stu defends bluntly, “Not saying that Gale Weathers doesn’t deserve what she gets.” 

In all honesty, I had been so distracted by the way the book would affect me and my chances to get past the Ghostface thing that I didn’t even think about the actual killer. This could get him to hurt someone else. Gale Weathers could be making herself a target, but I find the thought unlikely. The more I reflect on why he left me alive the more I think that it might have been because there’s more of a story when there’s a survivor. He joked with me about the final girl thing. He also called me once without attacking anyone. The asshole probably gets off on attention. 

Gale Weathers is probably the safest person in this town. The more she talks, the more attention he gets. It probably also helps his ego because he knows everyone’s after him and he hasn’t been caught. It’ll probably get him to hurt someone...just not her. Not that I hope Gale gets stabbed, it just makes her choices that much more selfish. 

I scratch the back of my wrist, staring at my open palm. The tiny white line, the scar carved into the skin of my hand seems bigger right now. “I don’t--it’s not like I want Gale to get hurt.” 

“No one’s saying you do,” Billy says, voice patient. 

I sigh, a part of me wishing this hadn’t come up. This was the last thing I wanted to think about, that’s why I’ve been ignoring calls and just focusing on homework. I walk away from my desk and sit down on my bed before slumping back semi-dramatically. If this is how Billy and Stu are acting, everyone at school is definitely going to start treating me weirdly again. Maybe Gale will be there, trying to chase me down for a quote. 

Ugh...maybe I can get my mom to bully the principle into letting me homeschool for a few days. A week maximum. Or maybe she’ll let me pretend to have mono or something. I have most of my textbooks here and I could get assignments from-- 

My bed dips, cutting off my train of thought. I turn my head enough to see Billy. “I--” His voice comes out so low I’m surprised I even heard him over the music. “I didn’t want to bring all of that up for you.”

There’s a softness there that makes it easier to genuinely shake my head dismissively. “It’s okay.” 

His eyes briefly meet mine. “I also didn’t uh--didn’t want to freak you out or--” 

“You didn’t.” That’s true, at least in the way he meant it. That level of anger over something that only really affects me did surprise me, but it’s not like he scared me. He hesitantly focuses his attention on me. I prop my head up on one elbow, watching him carefully. “You’re not as scary as you think you are.” 

Billy tilts his head, his lips tugging into an uncertain smile. “Oh, yeah?” 

He’s probing, likely trying to trick me into a compliment. “You’re losing your edge.” I keep my voice as nonchalant as possible as I drop my elbow and lay down again. “I think it’s all the time around me.” 

His eyebrows draw together like he’s seriously considering my hypothesis. “Valid theory.” The bed moves with no warning, the space to my left indenting. Billy lays down next to me without moving to make sure there’s enough space between me and the headboard. His arm presses into mine. “All the time in here can’t be helping either.” 

Billy does come over to my room a lot, usually crashing here when he needs to avoid his dad and doesn’t want to talk about it. Recently, though, he hasn’t been around as much. I didn’t think too much of it until I went over to Stu’s and saw that Billy wasn’t up for much of anything. “It’s the exposure to all the fluffy pillows.” 

“Probably.” Something warm brushes against the back of my wrist. Billy carefully traces an invisible line up my forearm. “This song’s nice.” 

The warmth of validation tugs at my chest. “It’s my favorite one on here.” He follows the same trail back down the inside of my forearm. “I think you’ll like the uh--” There had been a specific one on the track list that reminded me of a few songs he had shown me before. I list the titles in my head until I remember the right one, “Fourth track.” 

“Hm,” he hums in a way that doesn’t feel dismissive, just relaxed.

The bed shifts again. I crane my neck back, eyes straining to see behind me. After a second, I make out Stu circling my nightstand. “This is new.” He’s picking something up. Stu sits back down, making it easier to see what’s caught his attention. 

Oh. Not new, but I don’t blame him for not having my bookshelf memorized. “Not new.” He turns the book onto its side, studying the worn spine as if to confirm what I’m saying. “Just haven’t read it in a minute, thought it might cheer up.” 

There have been few problems that American Psycho and Patrick Bateman haven’t been able to at least help. It didn’t make me feel a lot better, but it was nice to distract myself from a real life murderer with the fictitious kind. 

Stu pauses, skimming the back of the book. “A little dark for a pick me up.” 

“It’s well written.” 

That’s true, and its commentary on social values and the rise of well off, stockbroker success and the culture that’s developed because of it is interesting and a creative analysis of society’s values. It also helps that despite being written with only a few redeeming qualities and being the literal villain (and weirdly misogynistic), I might have the smallest bit of a thing for Patrick Bateman. Not that I’d ever go for anyone like that in real life, but my fascination with his character is definitely a guilty pleasure. A guilty pleasure they really don’t need to know about.

He thumbs through the pages, attention focused like he’s actually reading it all that fast. Stu nods once, setting the book down at the edge of my bed before picking up a sweatshirt I almost forgot was still on my bed. He takes a second to feel the fabric of the sleeve before loosely folding it. Stu leaves it next to my book before laying down. 

We’re all lying horizontally now, but Stu’s backwards, his head closer to my torso and legs than anything else. The position makes it easy for me to secretly move my hand and softly flick his shoulder. Stu snaps his head in my direction, expression so shocked and slightly horrified I might as well have slapped him. 

It’d probably be smart to backtrack, but I’m clearly in no mood to make intelligent decisions, so I let myself laugh. The sound is a quick, too-smug giggle. Stu’s eyebrows pull together at the sound, the look concerning in its seriousness. I move to pull my hand back, but my reaction is too late. Stu throws his hand forward, grasping onto my wrist. I yank back once, had enough to be considered serious. Stu squeezes tighter, pulling my arm forward with an ease that embarrasses me.

“Stu!” A partial squeak, a partial laugh. 

He squeezes my arm to his chest, forcing my body to lean forward. I squirm, attempting to slip out of his grasp. I come close to escaping when I twist my arm back and turn my wrist without warning him, but Stu recovers. Growing desperate, I use my free hand to shove his shoulder. That backfires, too, encouraging him to use his other hand to keep me trapped.

The play fight escalates, both of us trying to win without getting up or seeming too invested. My wrist makes a cracking sound as I finally slip out of his hold. He’s quick to throw his arm forward and grab me again. Before I can even think to react, Stu tugs my hand upwards and briefly nips the side of my hand. 

I gasp so dramatically one might think he tried to gnaw off my entire hand. “Did you just bite me?”  Stu laughs, finally letting me take my arm back. I take a second to examine my hand, even though his teeth barely touched me. After deciding that my unmarked skin will one day recover, I prop myself up on my forearm and look over at Billy. “He fucking bit me.” 

Billy turns his head, unbothered by our conflict. “You started it.” There’s an underlying smugness that makes me want to shove him. I frown openly, not caring if I get accused of pouting. He sighs, holding up a hand. “Fine. Let’s see the damage.” 

“I didn’t even touch her.” 

I roll my eyes at Stu’s defense. Did it hurt? No, but it was deeply offensive. “You’re lucky I don’t bite you.” 

Stu lets out a breath, “Sweetheart, you can bi--” 

“Do not.” I keep my voice stern as I look at Billy’s waiting hand. He asked to see the damage, but there really isn’t any. The skin beneath my thumb wasn’t even grossly damp. It was more about my shock. But I still listen, setting my hand on his. 

Billy pulls on my hand gently, studying my skin intently. He even takes a second to bend my fingers and stretch them back out. “Think you’ll live.” 

I nod, letting Billy take his time still examining my hand. “Optimistic prognosis.” 

He shrugs slightly, his shoulder bumping into mine. “Only if you’ve had all your shots.”

Stu’s scoff and offended, “Fuck off,” are nearly drowned out by my laughter. Billy sets my hand down between us carefully. My giggling fit is drawn out by the rush of fondness in my chest. These two really are so much weirder than people realize and I wouldn’t change it for anything. Wow. They really are my best friends, and maybe arguably the most important people in my life. 

Feeling this close to anyone usually makes me want to be flighty. I’m not used to it when it comes to people I haven’t known my entire life, and there’s an inherent nervousness when it comes to growing attached to people you don’t completely know. It is kind of weird to feel this close to them and I haven’t even seen Billy’s room yet, so it makes sense that sometimes it feels different than what I’m used to. 

“What are you thinking about?” The question takes me by surprise, breaking the easy silence that’s been carried by the soft music. 

I blink at Billy’s words, a small part of me reacting like I’ve been caught doing something embarrassing. “Uh...nothing.” Fairly true. It’s not like my train of thought was focused or made much sense. Still, though, I should probably give him something more so he doesn’t assume that I’m trying to hide a mental break down. “...That you’re one of my best friends and I’ve never been to your house before.” 

Stu lightly squeezes my forearm. “You’re not missing much.” 

“You bit me,” I mumble, “What do you know?” 

He relaxes his hold on me in order to run his knuckles up and down my arm. “It was a love bite.” 

“Like a feral cat.”

Stu scoffs. “This is why Billy doesn’t want you at his place.” 

Wow. Rude. I part my lips, ready to insult him. “Okay,” Billy interjects, “Don’t start again.” A part of me’s offended by the defense. I should be able to fight Stu over this. “You guys are kids.”

I glare, “Rude.” 

“Fine, let him bite you again.” My nose wrinkles, but before I can say anything, Billy continues, “And he’s not wrong, you’re not missing much.” 

He’s probably right, I’ve just been thinking about it a little more than usual. “Until I see it, I’m going to think that your bedsheets are bright pink.”

“Actually, they’re bright purple.” 

The sarcasm comes out so quickly, so casually, I almost think he means it. “Nice try, but I’m still assuming neon pink.” 

He sighs, “It’s neon now?” The question’s mumbled, and before I can say anything back, Billy sits up. 

Stu turns onto his side, eyebrows drawn together in order to silently ask what’s up with Billy. “What are you doing?” 

“If she’s going to make up things about my room until she sees it...” He walks away from my bed, stopping close to my door. “We should get it over with.” 

Oh my god?? I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I also wasn’t prepared for the wave of excitement buzzing in my chest. I sit up too quickly, too telling. “Really?” 

It’s a casual thing that I really don’t want to make weird, but I wasn’t angling to get him to take us over there. And the thought is nice, they’re my best friends and a bedroom gives insight into a person. It’s also the perfect distraction after everything that’s happened today. 

“Yeah? Really?” 

Billy shrugs, already reaching my door. “It’ll be better than whatever she makes up about it.” 

A good point, because I was already thinking about ways to work in an assumption about him having zebra print lampshades and posters pulled from pre-teen magazines. “Am I getting that predictable?” 

He raises his eyebrows and Stu tries to conceal a laugh. I roll my eyes as Billy returns the question, “Getting?” 

“Haha.” Why do I hang out with them? I take back all the warm, fuzzy thoughts about them. 

I push myself to my feet, looking for my shoes. Stu sits up, waiting for me to find my sneakers. Because I was planning on hiding in my room until school, I almost didn’t change out of pajamas and now I’m glad I changed into some leggings and a comfortable shirt this morning.

My shoes were hiding underneath a pillow. I free them and sit on the edge of my bed to pull them on. Stu taps my knee, getting me to turn. “What?” 

He pats his lap once, implying something I don’t get. When I don’t react quickly enough, Stu sighs and bends forward. He pulls on my laces. “I can--” It’s too late, he’s already looped them once and is working on doing it again. “Double knotted?” 

Stu squeezes my ankle after tying my last shoe. “You trip too much for me not to.” 

I scoff, “You were almost nice.” 

“I’m always nice to you, angel.”

rolling my eyes, I move to stand after Stu straightens. 

“Grab a jacket,” Billy mumbles, “It’s cold.”

If my mom could see this, she’d never make another joke about him again. Actually, she’d probably say he’s one of my only friends with good sense. “Nerd.” 

He gives me a more-than-slightly-annoyed look as I reach for the jacket hanging on my desk chair. I make a point of holding up the jacket before folding the fabric over my arm. 

----

It’s a lot harder to not look like a little kid on a field trip than one would think. Maybe it’s the jacket that’s gone from neatly folded over my arm to a wadded up lump pressed snugly into my chest, held in place by my crossed together arm. The spring in my step could be part of the problem, a slight bounce that has to be a result of the touch of fall chilliness in the air and has absolutely nothing to do with internal excitement. That’d be way too dramatic. 

Billy unlocks the door and pulls it open. Stu walks in first, I follow. We walk down a short entryway that leads to a main living area. The living area is put together, radiating a neatness that almost feels clinical. Maybe that’s an exaggerated way of taking in the precisely angled arm chairs and the glass figurine that’s sitting on the coffee table, but I can’t help the thought. It has to be a byproduct of the ‘organized chaos’ my mom raised me on, a stack of magazines in the living room that never seem to fully straighten and unmatched pillows that get paired together to tell a story. 

The space is nice, though, some underlying factor I can’t pinpoint making it still feel a little homey. It’s almost like the room’s covered by an invisible cloak that makes it clear that people live here, that this isn’t some open house. I take my time looking around the room, trying to find a source for this feeling. 

There are a few framed photos, but none of them revolving around family enough to offer a homey feel, just pictures of a little boy growing up. The fuzzy one of the boy at maybe the age of six stands out on the coffee table, his smile reveals a missing tooth in a way that makes it a personal favorite. For a second, I think the subtle lived in atmosphere could be coming from the few knick knacks on the coffee table and book shelf, but quickly rule that out. Sure, they’re objectively nice decorations but they don’t fit together in that way. There’s no way a dad didn’t pick them out. 

I guess the feeling comes from the details. The most comfortable looking arm chair is the one closest to the bookshelf even though that corner of the room is almost a little too cramped for the two to sit next to each other. The rug matches the walls and the couch in a way that makes the cream colored pillows seem sad and out of place. 

“Is it everything you thought it’d be?” 

Stu’s voice snaps me out of my train of thought. I nod once, stepping towards the coffee table. My hand reaches forward, picking up the picture of the kid with the missing tooth. “Oh, most definitely.” 

Billy sighs at the same time Stu lets out a quick, easy laugh. “That’s a good one.” 

“Put it down,” Billy mumbles halfheartedly, but it’s too late. Stu’s at my side, taking the smooth frame. He holds it up and then down, squinting like he’s studying a complex work of art. “This was a mistake.” 

I grin, “Once again, most definitely.” 

“You used to be a real softie.” Stu delivers the comment in a way that feels almost factual. I bite down a joke about how used to feels like an exaggeration as Stu sets down the frame. 

Billy frowns a little too pointedly. “Yeah, I was the one that was sensitive.” 

I turn my head towards Stu, who’s stiffer than he was too seconds ago. There’s definitely a story there. “What’s that about?”

“Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” Stu pouts, lazily extending an arm in my direction. “He’s always been jealous of me.” 

Mhm. I roll my eyes, sighing as I reluctantly step forward and meet him halfway. Stu squeezes my shoulder. The gesture is gentle enough, but I still halfheartedly try to push him off. “Yeah, jealous sounds like the right word.” 

He huffs. “Don’t be mean.” 

I force my thumb downwards. My nail pinches at my skin a little but it works, I get in between the fabric of my shirt and Stu’s palm. He curves his hand to give me the space I need. “I’m never mean.” He tries to squeeze my thumb down flat. “Seriously, though,” I turn my head enough to look at Billy, “Story?” 

Billy tilts his head just enough for me to notice and his eyebrows pull together. The feeling that he’s silently trying to tell me something I can’t interpret tugs at me briefly. He straightens his stance before I can read too much into the look. “Imagine that with the impulse control of a seven-year-old, that’s the story.” 

Stu being a former terror is a topic that’s been touched on before. Usually, the issue with befriending people that have known each other their entire lives is that you’ll never have the childhood experiences together. You’ll never know whose parents hosted the sleepovers or who had constantly scraped knees or who went through an embarrassing obsession with some child targeted franchise. 

It’s a fair thing thing to be intimidated by. And normally, it’d sting from time to time, but with them it rarely does. I like hearing the stories, like the details that come up. 

Stu scoffs in complaint, fighting back with renewed interest as I come close to freeing my shoulder.

“He used to have a thing for bugs,” Billy offers after a second, “Didn’t like when people would mess with hives and-and food routes or whatever.” 

The hand on my shoulder nearly goes slack. I blink, twisting my neck to look at Stu, whose staring straight ahead. “Shut up.” The words come out uncharacteristically passive, and maybe even a little flat. 

Picturing Stu as one of those insect fact kids wouldn’t come to me naturally, but it does kind of fit. Not the defending them, but the interest in something that gets people to react. 

“Really?”

Stu sighs, “Not really.” Again, a surprisingly flat defense. “I didn’t have a thing...just thought they were...” He lifts one shoulder in a shrug, “Cool.” 

“So cool you had to put a beetle in Valerie Thompson’s cubbie.” 

...And there it is. I laugh despite myself, imagining a second-grade Stu and some poor girl getting into some kind of argument and then later finding something crawling between her crayons and coloring sheets. Maybe it’s a good thing we met when we did. Little me could be a monster in her own way, a way that wouldn’t have fit theres.  “That poor girl.” 

“Valerie Thompson had it coming,” Stu says, “Y’know what she was like.” 

I don’t know if it’s weird that I assumed that Stu was talking to me or both of us instead of just talking to Billy. The comment was small, offhanded and focused on a topic only they know about. It’s fair for him to not be talking to me. Rationally, I get it. That doesn’t mean I like it, though. 

I’ve seen them interact in ways that make it feel like everyone else is invisible. They get each other like that. Anyone that’s around them long enough to see them relax has to get it. It’s the kind of understanding that makes people insecure about their own best-friendship. Not that it makes me feel like that. Most of the time. 

Something about it right now burns more than usual. My feelings aren’t hurt, I’m not upset because that wouldn’t be fair, but I’m not comfortable and breezy either. That just makes it worse, why does it feel different now?

Maybe my irritability is a result of multiple things. All I’ve had to today is a few spoonfuls of the ice cream that I mainly picked at so that my mom wouldn’t worry and I’ve had no water. The whole book thing has been stressful, too, and the pulsing ache of a migraine is starting to settle behind my right eye. 

It was nice of Billy to invite me over because I asked, but maybe it’s too early for me to be out again. Maybe what I need is the safe enclosure of my bedroom, dim lighting, and a nap. 

I try to shake off my discomfort by acting on instinct. The instinct of a feral toddler that isn’t getting enough attention. I twist my thumb, poking his hand with my nail. I’m not being mean about it, but I could have been gentler. Stu doesn’t react, which only adds to my annoyance.

My knuckles bend, giving me the space I need to get enough leverage to separate Stu’s hand from my arm. He lets me. 

“Guess he hasn’t changed that much since he bit you today.” 

The direct comment has me easing slightly. I get myself to smile. “Clearly.”

Billy takes a partial step forward, “You good?” 

I scratch the back of my arm, trying to ground myself in the present. Be normal. “Yeah...just tired.” Which is true enough. I wipe at my face, pinching the bridge of my nose in an attempt to control the dull pain. “And I feel like I’m getting a headache.” 

He nods, expression cloudy. “You want tylenol or water or...something.” 

Pull it together. I force my hands to my side as I shake my head once. “I’m okay, just spaced out for a second.” 

“You need to lay down?” Stu tilts his head, watching me like a part of him thinks I could faint.

My fingertips press into my side. “I’m good, it’s just a migraine.” This is what happens when someone decides to write a book about the most traumatic thing I’ve ever gone through. “Probably just stress.” They’re staring attentively. I can’t blame them for their concern. If I freaked out right now, this wouldn’t be my first meltdown. The fact that it’s warranted makes everything feel like too much. “Can we get back to analyzing Billy’s baby pictures? I think I saw one with a pool floaty on the bookshelf.”

“Baby pictures are low tier.” Stu briefly lifts a hand before dropping it dismissively, swiping at the air. “The real making fun of Billy’s in his room.”

“Really?”

"Yep. All the angst.” 

Intriguing. “All the angst and pink sheets, right?” 

“Neon.” 

Billy sighs once, reluctantly stepping forward. This is all out of his control now. “You two don’t need to be around each other.” 

He walks past the couch, approaching a hall that leads away from the living room. Stu turns his head the second Billy’s back is to us. “So jealous of us.” 

Despite myself, I smile, finally feeling a bit more at ease. “So.” 

We walk down the hall together. Billy’s fully ditched us, but Stu knows where we’re going. The hall is short, we pass one door before Stu stops us in front of one that’s partially open. He opens it fully with a gentle push and walks in without a second thought.

I’m still stepping into the room when the bed creaks loudly thanks to the sudden addition of Stu’s weight. He’s making himself just as at home as he does in my room, rolling onto his stomach to reach for a pillow to tuck beneath him. 

Billy sighs from his desk chair, moving his legs off the foot of the bed. “What did we say you were? Seven?” 

Stu cranes his neck, glaring at Billy before relaxing again. “And a half.” 

“Feels generous.” The joke comes out instinctually, but my attention’s already divided.

Billy’s room is made up of deep blue-grey walls, not quite dark but nowhere close to light either. All the furniture is made of dark wood that matches the hardwood of the floor. The room is decorated a little neater than one would expect for a teenage boy, a few posters that are sized too well to not have been picked out carefully. They’re movie themed, though nowhere near as openly gory or sexualized as the one’s in Stu’s. 

Everything’s also nicely organized. Like, even more organized than my room. No clothes on the floor or laundry sitting in a basket or on a chair in a pile that’s left to grow until it eventually topples over. What I can see of his desk is also put together, no assignments or unfinished books or projects cluttering the surface.

I walk towards the bed, siting down on the edge. The comforter is navy blue and a lot softer than I thought it’d be. His sheets are dark colored, neutral plaid. Not hot pink or an obnoxious shade of purple, unfortunately. I can’t bring myself to mind being wrong. The space is really Billy in a reserved sort of way. It fits him. 

“No pink sheets.” Billy’s voice snaps me out of my analysis. It’s a good thing, too, because I was probably seconds away from touching things on his bookshelf and messing with the lamp and being nosey about knick knacks. I’d feel worse about the desire to pry and investigate for entertainment’s sake if both of them weren’t constantly looking through my things. 

My hand brushes the edge of the sheet that’s folded over. “Disappointing.” I twist awkwardly to better look at him. Billy’s bouncing his leg, not looking at anything in particular. “But besides that, it’s nice and not as embarrassing as Stu said it’d be.” 

Billy’s eyebrows draw together, “As?” 

Stu props his head up on one elbow despite the fact that most of his arm sinks into a pillow. “Look through his underwear draw and then we’ll talk.” 

I laugh, surprising myself with how loud and genuine it is. The suddenness aggravates the background soreness of a headache. I ignore it. “You’ve looked through his underwear drawer?” 

“It--” Stu cuts himself off with a sigh that sounds suspiciously close to a laugh, letting his head fall back onto the pillow.

Our laughing fit ends as Billy stands up. “Where are you going?” 

He walks around the bed, barely glancing over at me to answer, “Give me a second.” ...Okay? “Don’t look through my underwear drawer.” 

“No promises,” Stu calls after him.

Billy doesn’t react, extending an arm and instinctually half-shutting the door. Stu adjusts, forcing himself to sit up. He’s farther back on the bed than me, but his legs are so long his knees are nearly level with mine. “We’re not really gonna do that are we?” 

Stu half laughs-half scoffs, wrinkling his nose and scrunching his eyes together in pretend disgust. “I’m good.” I smile. “We can tell him we did, though.” 

“We should also tell him we found something really embarrassing.” Stu raises his eyebrows and I immediately regret it. I scoff, reaching back to smack his arm. “Not like that, I meant like a stuffed animal or something.” 

“Don’t you have stuffed animals?” 

My posture stiffens, a tiny part of me offended that he’s implying that my children are something I should be embarrassed about. “That’s different.” I frown, thinking of the one stuffed animal that lives on my bed and the few that live around my room. “And you said you liked them.” 

Stu never said that, but he has implied it. Nothing crazy, just a few debates between a duck my mom had given me as a child and a bear from my grandparents. He even asked about their names. 

He shrugs, turning towards me. His knee taps against mine. “I’m not complaining.” I narrow my eyes, skeptical if this is leading into some kind of joke. “As long as Daisy leaves Blueberry alone.” 

I fight down a laugh, because laughing would undo all of the work I’ve put in to convincing him that making up lore about my stuffed animals is something he should stop. “You made that up.” 

He tilts his head, “That’s what Daisy wants you to think.” 

“I don’t even think you actually remember which one’s Daisy and which one’s Blueberry.” 

Stu gasps like I’ve slapped him. “Daisy’s obviously the duck with the--the sweater--blue sweater with daisies--and Blueberry’s the bear in overalls.” 

This time, the giggle slips out. I’m still not convinced he’s not making fun of me in some way or setting up for some kind of joke, but the way he grins might make it worth it. “Too easy. Which one’s Jellybean?” 

He presses his lips together to demonstrate serious thought. “The...bookshelf one. The bunny with the--the ears.” Stu lifts a hand, using his fingers to try to draw something long and floppy in the air. “The grey one.” I grin. “And the last one’s French Fry, the dog on your desk for good luck.” 

“Okay,” I manage reluctantly, a confession pulled out like a tooth, “You did a good job.” 

Stu’s smile impossibly widens, reaching forward to wrap an arm around me. “I know my girl.” 

I sigh, mumbling a quick, “Not your girl.” Stu ignores me, squeezing me to him a little more confidently. “And you know I don’t actually think French Fry’s lucky anymore, he just lives there.” 

He scoffs, “Don’t talk about French Fry like that, babe, all he does is guard your homework.” 

I frown, craning my neck to look at him, “Are you making fun of me?” 

“No,” he breathes the word out in a way that makes it feel like the opposite of what it means. 

Some joke about how French Fry’s going to have to start guarding me from him is almost out of my mouth when something creeks. Billy’s opening the door, a glass in his hand. He extends the glass towards me. I take it instinctually, even though I have no idea what the water’s about.

“Drink,” Billy says, already moving to the other side of the bed, “For your head.” 

Ah. Not the first time Billy’s blamed an issue on me not drinking enough water. Even though I didn’t ask for anything, the gesture makes my chest feel warm. I take a few long sips. “Thanks.” 

Billy nods once, sitting at the edge of the bed. Stu twists himself to make it easier to look at Billy. “You know she just said French Fry’s not lucky.” 

“Wow,” Billy shrugs, a distinctly sarcastic lilt to his shock, “That’s blasphemous.” 

I roll my eyes before drinking some more water. “I just meant that I’m not like five and that I don’t actually think he can bark away the bad grades.” A barely covered laugh overlaps with the last of my words. I snap my head towards Billy. “What?” 

“Bark away the bad grades?” Okay, it sounds dumb now, but when I was younger the thought of doing my homework in the presence of French Fry was comforting. A school counselor recommended him to keep me calm during tests and now he’s just a good omen. “You just--you don’t seem like you were that weird a kid and then you say--” 

“I was not weird!” A little defensive for someone that was in the fourth grade with a stress plushy. “I was--I was like one of those kids that was basically an extra excited old person.” 

Stu’s arm slips off me as he adjusts the way he’s sitting. “Yeah, that sounds normal.” 

Really? After what’s been established about him? “Okay, bug boy.” 

He glares, openly offended. “It wasn’t like that.” 

“Sure.” 

“Okay.” Billy’s interjection tells me that he’s hitting his petty fight limit earlier today than usual. He only tries to preemptively intervene when he’s hitting a specific wall that Stu and I make people realize they have. “Before you guys start fighting like little kids, have you had lunch yet?” 

Unless you count a bowl of ice cream that ended up abandoned in my kitchen... 

Stu sits up a little more, “Nope.” He turns his head enough to look at me, “What about you, angel?” 

I tap my nails against my knee. “Not yet.”

“Wanna go to that pizza place?” Stu offers, already moving towards the edge of the bed to stand.

The thought of food isn’t particularly appealing, but I’ve moved past the stage of panic that made the thought of eating nauseating. What is nauseating is what could happen if I go out in public. Gale Weathers has been nonstop promoting her book. What if someone recognizes me? It was bad enough when the attack first happened and my school was buzzing with journalists...Now things are confirmed and Gale Weathers can’t keep my name out of her mouth. 

My grip on the glass of water tightens, “Sure.” 

“We can do something else if you want?” 

Ugh...a selfish part of me wishes I had it in me to pretend not to hear the hint of uneasiness in Stu’s voice. I could shake my head and say that pizza’s good, blame my hesitance on the beginnings of a migraine and sleep depravation. 

“It’s not...” Both of my hands grasp the glass. I press my thumb against the rim with enough tension to leave a red line indented into my skin. “She’s still talking about it and--and I saw some other show doing a segment on it and my name came up like three times in the five minutes that I watched.” 

It’s going to take over my life. Slowly but surely, it’ll take more and more. The buzz will die down and the side stares and not-so-mumbled comments will stop, because they did before. But then the book will come out and it will start again, and by the time it stops being super relevant it’ll be linked to my identity. Colleges will see it, any job that requires a background check will find it in seconds, and all it takes is for one person to find out and then it’s everywhere. 

What if I get into a great school and start making friends and then one person realizes they’ve seen my name before or looks into Gale’s career for whatever reason and then suddenly it’s everywhere? It’ll cling to me like a shadow, the label of victim the kind one and the conspiracy theorists... 

“You don’t have to put up with it.” Billy’s voice is low, almost unfeeling. I don’t get what he’s saying. Billy understands my question before I can ask. “The Gale thing--if she wants to use your name every two seconds to promote her book, you should let her know you’re not okay with it. Don’t make it easy for her, you’re not helpless.” 

The sharpness in his tone doesn’t feel aggressive, it’s urging. Honest. “Sorry, that was--” 

“Don’t be sorry.” I mean it. The directness and the lack of coddling forced me out of my the-world-is-ending spiral. My mom’s trying to track Gale Weathers down logically, but with someone that doesn’t mind playing underhanded to get what she wants, you have to work the same way. She ambushes people all the time. “I think I needed to hear it.” 

Gale’s office is probably in a public directory, and if it’s not, she’ll probably try to find me at school. There’ll be a chance to tell her off, a chance to stop her. Or at least, to get her to stop mentioning me like I’m a tagline. 

“We’ll take her down,” Stu encourages, gently bumping his fist against my arm, “After food.” He stands up, the bed shifting beneath his weight. “C’mon, if anyone looks at you, I’ll beat ‘em up.” 

I roll my eyes, letting Stu pull on my free hand until I stand up. “You offer to do that a lot. I think you just want to beat someone up.” 

“Nah, if I did, I’d just punch Billy.” 

Billy lets out an exhausted sigh as he stands. “Seriously?” 

“What? I’d say I’d punch her, but she scares me a little.” Considering how often Stu and I do fight each other, I really doubt it. “She fights dirty.” 

“Yeah.” Billy’s agreement comes out suspiciously fast as he opens the door. “I’ve seen her kick your ass.” 

----

a/n billy and stu when someone else takes advantage of y/n’s trauma: 🤯🤬

also next chapter should be a lot messier hehehe

Taglist:  @cole22ann @womenarecannibals @fand0mskullfa1ry @princessleah129 @i-amnotokaywiththis @fvcking-gxddess @suckmyass-things @im-better-than-your-newborn @michibuni @bigenargy @marli-lavellan @mushy-mushroom04 @neenieweenie @lone-ray @the-ruler-of-death @andthevillainshallrises @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @dixbolik-bby @thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth @peachycupotea @my5tica1ien @agustdeeyaa @astrial @3ll0kittylvr420 @zoleea-exultant @slaypussypop-21 @aonungs-tsahik @finnydraws @slytherhoes @vxarak @xofeeeeelsxo @thewayiknowyou @yourslashersfinalgirl @winterridinghood @maggieleighc @kobababysblog @moved2burntrubbertoast @gamecrew209 @idkf-loll @wolfgirl-205 @ultimatequeenieofsass @kathanibennett @itsjuststaticnoises @brittney69 @domaniquessidehoe @kaydesssssssss @superhighschoollevelnerd-blog1 @classicbandtrash83 @itzz-me-duh 

[twigg96]

Can I trust you dad?

Dary X Reader (A father and son bonding fic)

Ok so… lol this HC just popped into my head and I have to share it. For context: Beau (Daryl and reader’s son) is 18 years old making Phoenix (their daughter) 23.

Strolling up to his parent’s house with his hands deep in his pockets Beau knew that he was in deep shit. He wasn't always known to make the best decisions ever... actually he made pretty bad ones most of the time. Like the time he tried hot wiring a car he found on the side of the road at the age of ten and simply set off the alarm and alerting a herd of walkers and putting not only his life in danger but his whole family's as they rushed to save him. But this time was different... this time he really was in for it. See... Beau was known around the camp for being a little more than just a little promiscuous. His mother had really laid into him the last time he was caught sneaking out of one of the other campers tents late at night and given a lengthy spiel about keeping his and his partner's sexual health and wellbeing in check. She told him about the dangers of STDs in details he never wanted to hear from a family member ever again. But most importantly of all she told him the dangers of pregnancy on the mother (if his partner was female, she didn’t judge) of a child. She told him his own birth story before really driving home the point by telling him Lori’s story.

He didn't listen however... he never did. Something he picked up from his old man’s side of the family if he was being honest with himself. He heard it a thousand times a day from his parents how he acted more and more like his father did as a child and his Uncle Merle as a teenager and that one day it would get him killed. But for now. He stood anxiously outside of their door knowing his dad was the only one he could turn to at this point. It's not that he didn't trust his mom. No he loved and respected her. But... he really just needed to hear some advice from his father. Beau never needed to knock on the door of their Alexandrian home. It wasn't required of him and never would be. But as he stood wringing his hands in front of his chest he suddenly felt so vulnerable that he almost felt like an outsider. “Ya just gonna stare at the door all day?" Daryl's voice rang out from behind startling Beau enough to jump almost out of his skin. The graying man chuckled patting Beau on the shoulder and giving it a firm squeeze. "Wha'? Did I sneak up on ya or som'tin?" Daryl asked patting Beau on the chest as he passed by walking into the garage like he had a million times before. However this time Beau felt like this time was different. He felt like this time maybe the last time he could ever be so welcomed into his childhood home.

Following his father into the garage Beau picked and bit at the side of his thumb. A nervous habit he picked up from his father. He was beginning to believe that his father was too busy working on his bike to notice his entrance let alone fretting. Secretly he hoped he could slip away and maybe try to come back another day. But he couldn’t be so lucky. Daryl was always on his A game with his kids. “So…” he started. Turing his baby blues to his son a mix of worry and confusion on his face. He was a man of few words but they always seemed to get their message across anyway. Taking a deep steadying breath Beau rubbed his arms looking anywhere but Daryl’s face as he began to talk. “So… y-ya remember last year when mom grounded me?” Beau started attempting to be as cryptic as possible. Maybe if his father could figure it out for himself he wouldn’t be so mad. That wasn’t the case however. Daryl simply cocked a brow. “Don’t really narrow much down, kid.” Daryl muttered wiping his oil covered hands on an old rag. Beau sighed shuffling his feet. He should’ve known there was no beating around the bush with his dad. “Dad…” he started meeting Daryl’s eyes seriously. “I’ve been seeing this girl… Gwen.” He said honestly, really regretting not saying anything to his father before now. Daryl smirked at his son, standing to his full height. “That lil’ flower girl you an’ Phoenix used ta run around with? One who used to bring Carol, yer momma and I flowers each time we sent ya on a run ‘cause the colors livened up the house?” The archer teased holding his hand to his hip insinuating the size they all used to be the last he noticed them together. Beau blushed a brilliant red glaring daggers at his father for bringing up such an embarrassing but honestly beautiful memory of his girlfriend. “Don’t get yer panties in a bunch. ‘M just messin’.” Daryl hummed ruffling Beau’s messy dirty blonde hair fondly. “Dad seriously.” Beau whined crossing his arms indignantly in a way that reminded the archer of a time not too long ago when his son would take that pouty stance to keep him from going on runs. It warmed his heart and made him smile fondly at the memory. “So wha’ ya want my permission ta settle down ‘er something?” Daryl teased smirking at his son. “‘Cause if it keeps ya from hounding all the girls ‘round town I might just need ta say yes.” Beau didn’t respond. No he stared deeply at his feet and that concerned his father. The teasing smirk fell from Daryl’s face, soon to be replaced with a scowl of concentration and worry. “Did ya get ‘er pregnant?” Daryl asked seriously.

Beau frowned shaking his head. “No.” He muttered meeting his father’s eyes once more. He knew he was in for it now. “I got Judith pregnant… she just told me last night.” Daryl’s expression was unreadable and at first Beau thought he might prefer it that way. But as the silence continued to deafen he suddenly felt as if the world constricted around him to exist only within the confines of the garage. “Dad?” Beau called out hesitantly pulling his father’s intense stare to his face. “Shut up.” Daryl growled, a harsh glare crossing his features. “Now yer gonna listen ta me an’ yer gonna listen damn good.” Daryl ordered harshly making the boy jump and nod instinctively. “Yer gonna make this right, one way ‘er another, Beau…” Daryl started pointing at his son’s chest, a fire burning deep within his own. One of guilt, for not knowing sooner. One of anger at himself for not being able to keep his son out of trouble. To keep the Dixon out of him. “Ya gotta tell Gwen bout the baby. Be honest with her it’ll be easier in the end. Ya gotta be there and provide fer yer kid and Judith every step of this process no matter what choices she makes.” Beau’s eyes flicked up to his father’s momentarily. “She wants to keep the baby. Kinda why I came…” his voice wavered in both anxiety and understanding his father wasn’t finished talking. Daryl nodded running a hand through his hair a deep sigh escaping his lips. “So…” Beau muttered feeling the tension start to leave the room. “Ya tell Rick yet?” Daryl asked crossing his arms across his chest. Beau tensed simply shaking his head. “Ah… no. Not yet.” He muttered rubbing his arm. “Good luck.” The archer muttered, a small smirk forming on the corner of his lips. Beau chuckled shuffling his feet. “Yer not gonna… help me out so he doesn’t ya know kill me?” He teased bumping his father’s shoulder with his own. “And let him kill me too? Sorry kid yer on yer own for that one.” Together they laughed Daryl wrapping his arm around Beau’s shoulders. “What about with Momma?” Beau chuckled smiling at Daryl. “I mean you’re the only one I’ve told so far.” Daryl sighed glancing towards the door that linked the garage and the house. “Fine… I’ll help ya with her… But not til I’m finished my run. Gotta think bout how we gotta break it to her.” He muttered walking over to grab a bag off the ground to load onto his bike. “Mind if I come with you?” Beau asked walking over and grabbing a second bag. “I can drive behind you! Hell I’ll even ride bitch!” Beau laughed as his dad shot him a nasty look. “I just want to start providing for Judith… ya know.” Daryl nodded chewing on his thumb for a moment. “Alrigh’. But when we come back we’re talking to yer Momma and yer talkin’ ta Rick.” Beau rolled his eyes but saluted mockingly. “Yes sir, grandpa sir.” He teased winking at his scowling father. “Beau…” Daryl warned shaking his head with a sigh. But deep inside the thought of a tiny tot excitedly screaming grandma and grandpa when they came to see them was a little exciting despite the circumstances.

[brittlebutch]

Alright! So, that fic about that disastrous first day of school when Erin’s eight got me thinking: If Peg’s quietly enduring all that shit from the other moms to try to get her a good education, maybe she isn’t the only parent doing that. It’s possible Erin’s not the only kid who’s singled out for being “different,” and any other kid in a similar boat would probably reach out and try to make friends.

I started thinking about some solidarity happening in the aftermath of that, and I came up with a concept that you can absolutely take or leave: A physically disabled girl—I’ve been picturing, like, a limp—in Erin’s class/grade reaching out to make friends the next day, and the solidarity being instantaneous.

Again, there’s no pressure, feel free to take it or leave it—this plot bunny just wouldn’t leave me alone until I dropped it in your askbox, and (at least in my case, growing up) I feel like physically disabled/NT solidarity is a pretty common thing.

(And also the mental image of Erin bringing this kid home for a play date—and said kid immediately imprinting upon Hawkeye because A: he���s a cool, funny adult, and B: he’s like Erin, which means all three of them have a little in common—is both hilarious and fluffy as hell. Just—I could totally see him slowly amassing a gaggle of adoptive kids with every new friend Erin makes.)

—MASH!Anon

Oh love that; it's actually very similar to a fic that I was trying to write that never got done - Erin making friends with a young gay boy in her class when they're in 4th/5th grade; if i ever wind up circling back to finish that one, it would be So great to integrate this idea in there as well, since all of the fics in this series have been split up into 3s so far!

as a bonus i'll put in an exerpt of that WIP that i've dug out of an old notebook :3 (bullying tw tho)

[Context: Erin saw this boy being knocked around by some classmates and told her teacher, who broke it up, but the classmates shoved her into the mud as retaliation for 'trying to get them in trouble']

"Do you need help?" someone asks, and Erin freezes because she does not know if they are only waiting to be mean or not. She stays silent, and they sigh. "You do. Come on, I can get the mud out."

She doesn't really want to go with them, but she knows that the bathroom is the right next step anyway, so she follows, tense with anticipation for what they might spring on her.

But the boy only checks that the bathroom is empty before pulling her inside, turning on the sink, and examining the stains on her sleeves critically.

"It'll be easier if you take it off," he says, but Erin shakes her head fast. The last time someone asked her to take off her sweater so that they "could take a look at it", they had run off and hid it. The teacher said that maybe it was good that she took a break from it for a while, and only made the other kids give it back when Erin started crying so hard she almost made herself sick.

The boy shrugs, and pulls Erin over to stick her whole arm under the running water, carefully scrubbing at the fabric with his fingers, and it reminds Erin of Hakweye - the way he washes her sweater and his robe together in the sink, as gentle as possible to keep the fabric from all wearing out.

"I have to wash the mud outta my pants all the time when they push me," the boy explains suddenly, startling Erin with the sound of his voice. "My mom would get so mad if I let them all stain."

That's when Erin recognizes him. "You are the boy they were kicking," she says.

He winces - "Sorry," he mumbles. "Does it bother you that a homo's the one washing your clothes?"

Erin thinks of Hawkeye. "No," she says, but doesn't elaborate. She understands her parents' secret even more now, and this boy might be kind, and he might even be the same, but Erin doesn't know him enough to trust him. "My name is Erin," she adds belatedly.

"I'm Danny."

[flames-tstuff]

I had the most delightful, fanfic-esque scenario play out before me today.

Unnecessarily long (but wholesome) story time below the cut!

I want to tell you all about this relatively new friend of mine (we've been friends for maybe 4-6 months now), whom I love dearly /p. The story is sort of in two parts; the background context, and then the actual story that happened today.

Background/Context

This kid appears to look like your stereotypical "fuckboy", right? Smooth, calm, collected demeanor. Well-dressed. A bit androgynous. Long, well-maintained hair. A pretty boy. I originally think to myself, “Huh, he’s kinda pretty(?) Uh oh. That can’t be good." Basically, I assume this dude is a douche-bag, because, well, your brain learns to recognize patterns, right? I've learned that conventionally attractive people typically only interact with me if they want something (cynical, I know).

Fast forward a few months and I find that I actually enjoy talking to him, and that he enjoys talking to me. Me—someone who mostly presents feminine (when I assumed him to be somewhat misogynistic) and is awkward as hell. He looks at me and speaks to me like I’m a real person..? Like he’s not just tolerating my presence and actually enjoys interacting with me. Like I'm "one of the guys", an equal. Pretty much any cishet guy I’ve ever met looks and talks to me like I’m an inconvenien. So the fact that he wasn't acting that way should have been the first sign that he's not at all what I had assumed.

A few months in when he feels comfortable enough, he tells me he’s been transitioning MTF(*) in secret for some time now. And it makes perfect sense. That’s why he had a pretty, feminine face. That’s why he had his hair grown out long. When I told him that no cishet guy has EVER been that kind to me, he said it was probably the estrogen lol.

*(Everyone who ~knows~ calls him by his given name and pronouns, just to be safe. We go to a religion-based school in a state that isn't very progressive or safe. I’ve only ever heard his girlfriend, who I also love and adore, use she/her in private, and even then it’s rare. So until I’m given explicit permission to openly use feminine pronouns, we’re all playing it safe by sticking with he/him.)

I’ve always been a mom friend, but I'm telling you this person is bringing out the “they must be protected at all costs” in me. The person who I thought was this smooth, sauve, chill dude (think Buck Dewey from Steven Universe lol) is actually just a scared, insecure little girl behind the curtains. A young adult who, because of the hormones, is basically going through Second Puberty™, angst and all. Someone who hid behind his guitar during a jam session because he was afraid someone would notice his developing chest. The friend who surprised me when I looked over and saw him crying during the animated film we were watching in the theater.

Guys, this is like my own real-life Zuko or Nico friend. The character in fiction that you just wanna shower with comfort and reassurance and warmth (but you can't, so you do so through writing and art). The friend you see almost as a younger sibling, that you feel compelled to protect. The one that you wanna hug and tell them that everything will be alright. This is all in my head of course, I don't want to risk accidentally smothering, patronizing, or otherwise scaring him away. But I feel honored any time I get the chance to see his walls come down even a little.

So because he’s got this particular demeanor about him, I was thinking to myself how much I want to see what would happen if someone were to... break down those walls a bit (yeah, you know what I'm talking about lol). Like really truly see past the facade he puts up every day. Because the thing is, I’ve seen him express and react just like everyone else. Happy, sad, angry—I’ve even seen him get playful before, but it’s always at about the same even level of reaction. I want to see him finally "crack", you know? What I would give to see him lose his cool and drop all pretenses, to see him be lovingly destroyed.

And oh how this sets up like the premise of a fanfic, am I right?

Unfortunately we’re not yet close enough to have crossed the barrier of physical contact (he doesn’t seem like the touchy type anyway), so it definitely would have to be coming from his girlfriend. Even if it did happen, the chances of me getting to witness it are low. I assume his girlfriend probably respects him enough not to embarrass him too much in front of others. Still, one can dream 😆

I wait for the day when the subject of being ticklish comes up (bc there ain't NO way this ball of hidden angst isn’t ticklish), someone teases him about it, and chaos ensues.

Today.

(aka the actual story, the reason for making this post)

Spoiler alert: No tickly shenanigans take place, unfortunately, but it's just about as good in my book :)

There were five of us friends (since when did I get a group of friends to hang out with??) piled into his car. I can’t remember exactly what happened, I think his girlfriend changed something about the radio, and lo and behold IT HAPPENED. He cracked!... even if just a tiny bit, hehe. It wasn’t an angry outburst in like a concerning, toxic way, but he was like “Ah, c’mon why’d you do that??” more akin to a whiny twelve-year-old who's parents unplugged their TV to get them to go to bed. It was funny and endearing more than anything, like watching an old married couple fight. We all snickered a bit at the sight, and I saw my opportunity to tease him a little.

I said something along the lines of “you know, for someone who has such a calm and collected demeanor, I absolutely love when I get to see you lose your cool. I mean that in the nicest way possible, of course. It’s just the best". He said that he didn’t think he gave off that kind of vibe, but he appreciated that that's how I see him 😆

Then, a few minutes later we were in the drive-through line getting sodas at McD’s. One of the friends in the car with us says idk, maybe two words, and he LOSES it (you know how inside jokes with friends are). Like, full-on busts up, flops against the wheel wheezing, which eventually turns into loud genuine laughter. Now I completely lose it, doubling over and burying my face in my lap laughing, but not because of the joke (cue the sappy music). The sudden, uncontrollable bout of laughter coming from him was so unexpected and so contagioius... It was one of the best sounds I’d heard in a long time! I was basically cry-laughing at that point. There were actual tears in my eyes that I had to wipe away. It all sounds so cliché but it really was an incredible sight to behold, and, in a roundabout sort of way, my dream came true.

So yeah. I just wanna hug him and fawn over him like a mom or an auntie. Poke him, help him loosen up a little. We’re not quite at that level of friendship where that would be well received I think, but maybe someday. Yeah, someday.

[garfieldlover3000]

Vent: divorce, mom, and school + mentions of abuse

this is word vomit btw, and i left out a lot of context.

My mom told me on my first day of school that she doesn’t love my dad and wants to divorce him. Idk how she was expecting me to react cause she got upset i started crying. Like girl… what the fuck? this couldn’t wait after you already told my dad and my siblings who don’t even live in the house anymore. Before like 3 weeks after that, i was the only one who knew about it. That was 3 weeks of me suffering alone. And why she only told me? cause i’m her only daughter, and she thinks that means i automatically will agree with her point of views or whatever. After that, my dad started telling me about the changes he saw in my mom, and how he feels so hurt about it. That ducking hurt me so much cause i knew, but i wasn’t allowed to tell him. I should really stop listening to my mom when she tells me to do certain stuff. After the 3 weeks had passed and she told my dad she wanted to divorce him, he told me, and i came clean over what she told me. My mom didn’t know i knew that she already told my dad. This friday, only me and her went on a trip to see some family, and i told he about how much this has affected me, both mentally and emotionally. She straight up told me that it shouldn’t be affecting me at all since it doesn’t involve me. Like yes it fucking does??? i’m literally y’all’s child??? who still lives in the home and has to be forced to see and hear everything that happens in the house?? and she told me that reason why she’s divorcing my dad is cause he never wants to be around us or go to church. Like first of all, she said it like he’s purposely avoiding us. His job is the thing that schedules him to work on sundays. He also works 2 jobs to be able to afford the home we live in. He’s also been the only one doing the chores and shit around the house. He recently actually looked for a new job so that he could spend time with us, but he had to drop it since my mom needed him to pick me up and take me to school. She also tried to convince me that my dads some bad father since he never is around for us. Like yeah i’ve been sad before cause his jobs keep us away, but every experience i have with him is good. Comparing how he treats us to my mom, my mom was always abusive when we where younger, and she still is, just not physically. My dad has never been abusive to us, and is genuinely interested in us as people even when he doesn’t understand what we are talking about. My mom only cares about stuff when it’s for church or we can win something from it. My dad only cares if it makes us happy.

I literally hate my mom so much right now. She literally lied to my face too about her not telling my dad this at all. I know she told my dad this. She legit told me that her and my dad aren’t leaving the house or anything. My dad legit told me like last week he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to take this anymore. What is she gonna do when at the end of the month, my dad moves out the house and she has to pay the mortgage on her own. Like her whole pay check can be spent on the bills alone. We won’t be able to live in that house.

My dad asked me once if i they where to seperate, who would i got with. I said him. I can’t stand to be alone with my mom ever. Much less a 8-14 muinite car ride too and from school. I’m also graduating highschool this year. If my mom ends up moving somewhere to far from my school, i am not going with her. if my dad moves too far from the school i won’t leave either. I have college classes there, and i don’t want to risk getting possible probation from college by not being able to complete the class. I might ask my oldest brother if he can somehow take me in just for me to be able to still go to school there. He lives near by with his gf anyways. I’m looking at colleges right now, and i’ve been looking at one in massachusetts. After i re take my sat, i’ll see if i apply to it. If i get accepted, i’ll probably head up there and stay. I know it will be really expensive to live up there. But i don’t want to live here anymore. And i don’t want to be anywhere near my mom either.

Tbh, considering coming out to my very christian mom and transgender. She’s always told me on how she’s always wanted a daughter, and how i’m her little miracle/doll for being her last child and being a girl. Wanna rip that away from her.

I feel so bad for my dad. He really loves my mom, but my mom doesn’t wanna work things out. Feel like i’m 9 again.

might talk to my brother about it tbh. The oldest one. idk. Also i’m late on like an assignment so i should probably turn it in.

idk

no tags since idk

[waitimcomingtoo]

Oh Brother

Pairing: Peter Parker x Flash’s sister!reader

Requested by @forlaughingoutl0ud : Peter has a crush on you, despite how much your brother torments him

Masterlist

Flash was known to torment Peter.

You, being Flash’s sister, were known to defend Peter from your brothers antics.

“Morning, Penis Parker.” Flash came up to Peter at his locker. “What did you have for breakfast this morning? Food stamps?”

Before Peter could respond, you appeared behind Flash and grabbed his ear.

“Ow! Ow ow ow ow!” He whined as you pulled him by the ear, dragging him away from Peter. Peter watched you with a smile as you dragged your brother away.

“Let’s go.” You sighed. “If you’re late to homeroom, Mrs. Weiss is gonna send a note home. Again.”

It was an every day occurrence.

“Nice shoes, Parker.” Flash snorted. “Dumpster diving is so amazing these days, isn’t it?”

“Oh my God, you’re so funny.” You whipped around in your seat and narrowed your eyes at your brother. “Tell us another one. Please?”

He liked it to keep it consistent.

“Can anyone tell me what this number is?” Your teacher asked as she wrote the digits of Pi, 3.14, on the board.

“It’s Parker’s annual income.” Flash called out, earning a few laughs.

“Why is it that no one ever wants to hear you speak and yet you’re always talking?” You piped up in Peters defense. The class “ooed” at your comeback and Peter smiled shyly to himself.

“Whatever.” Flash scoffed. “You look fat today.”

“I’m sorry, Peter.” You directed your attention to Peter. “He’s a little cranky this morning.”

“It’s okay.” He smiled sheepishly. You smiled back and shot him a wink before turning around in your seat.

And that was when Peter realized he was whipped for you.

“Can anyone tell me what an impulse is?” The teacher asked the class one day. “Yes, Flash?”

“It’s something you really want to do and have no control over.” Flash answered. “Like when I give Peter a wedgie during gym class, I did it on an impulse. That means I can’t be held responsible.”

“No.” The teacher signed. “Can anyone else tell me what it is? Yes, Peter?”

“A change in momentum.” Peter said, just a little smugly. “Ft equals mv minus mu.”

“Thank you, Peter.” The teacher smiled. “That’s right.”

“I was technically also right.” Flash spoke up. “You didn’t specify what context it was in.”

“This is a physics class.” You laughed. “That’s your context.”

“Whatever. You don’t have to defend him just because he has a giant crush on you.” Flash shot back and the class reacted accordingly. It was common knowledge that Peter had feelings for you and Flash liked to use that to his advantage.

“What? No I don’t.” Peter stammered. “That would be stupid.”

“Why would it be stupid?” You looked at him curiously, sending a flush across his face.

“Ladies and gentlemen. Can we get back to the lesson, please?” Your teacher asked through a tight smile. “You three can sort this out in your free time.”

“Lucky for us, Peter never has anything but free time.” Flash taunted. “Being poor really opens up your schedule.”

“Leave him alone, Eugene.” You snapped. “This is why mom doesn’t love you.”

“She does too!” Flash took the bait. “You’re the adopted one.”

“I know.” You shrugged smugly. “Our parents chose me. You were just an unfortunate accident.”

“My existence is not unfortunate.” He stated.

“Aren’t you a Gemini?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.” He said.

I’m a Gemini too I’m so sorry

“Then yeah, it is.” You scrunched your nose. The class stopped laughed at Peter and directed their attention to Flash. Peter looked at you in amazement and you winked at him.

“Thompsons.” The teacher interrupted. “I want you out of this class. Both of you. Now.”

You glared at your brother angrily as you grabbed your bag and headed towards the door.

“This is all your fault.” He growled at you as he opened the door.

“Oh, please.” Your argument was muffled as you made your way down the hallway.

Peter’s leg bounced in anticipation as he waited for the bell to ring, springing out of his seat as soon as it did. He immediately went to your locker, where you were busy putting your books away. Peter took a deep breath before he approached you, nervously making the first move.

“Hey.” He spoke up, making you turn your head in his direction. You shot him a smile that heated his entire face up.

“Hey, Peter.” You greeted. “Did I miss anything fun in physics?”

“Not really.” He shrugged. “Unless you like learning about momentum.”

“You know what, Peter? I can’t say I do.” You chuckled as you took a notebook out of your locker.

“Thanks for sticking up for me before. I’m sorry you got kicked out of class.”

“Don’t be sorry.” You shook your head and shut your locker. “It was totally worth it to put Flash in his place. Plus, I’m totally gonna dip his toothbrush in the toilet later. Walk with me.”

He began to walk with you out of school and in the direction of the residential buildings.

“Do siblings do that?” He wondered. “I’m an only child.”

“Are you? You’re so lucky.” You sighed. “Do you know how many times I’ve fallen into the toilet because he left the seat up?”

“Yeah, thats never happened to me.” He laughed gently. “I take it you guys don’t get along.”

“It’s weird with siblings.” You shrugged. “One minute we hate each other, the next minute we’re talking about the stupid games we used to play on long car rides. There’s no way to describe it.”

“I can’t imagine living with him. It’s hard enough to spend 8 hours a day with him. No offense.” He added quickly.

“None taken.” You smiled at him. “It’s not fun to live with him. The amount of times I’ve walked into the bathroom after him and choked on his body spray is unacceptable. I think he’s trying to kill me.”

“I would be very upset if he did that.” Peter said softly.

“Did what?”

“Killed you.” He looked at you and held your gaze for a moment. You smiled shyly at each other before looking straight ahead.

“What did you mean before when you said it would be stupid to have a crush on me?” You wondered out loud.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Peter rubbed the back of his neck. “Flash has just been bullying me since first grade. It would be stupid if the girl I decided to pine after was his sister.”

“I don’t think that would be stupid.” You shrugged as you snuck a glance at him. Peter blinked in surprise as he made eye contact with you. You both stopped, standing alone in an alleyway now.

“You…you don’t?” He looked at you shyly.

“Not at all.” You shook your head slowly as you took a step closer to him. Peter looked at his shoes for a moment as he gathered some courage, just enough to do what he’d been meaning to do for years now.

“Would you wanna go out sometime then?” He blurted. “Like, on a date?”

“I’d love to.” You smiled. “You still have my number from that group project right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, still swimming from the fact your said yes.

“Then you should text me.”

“I will.” He promised.

“Good. I have to walk back to school before Flash notices I’m gone. I’ll be waiting for that text.” You winked at him and he let out a flustered laugh. You took this as an opportunity to lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek, feeling his skin heat up beneath your lips. You pulled away and squeezed his hand before leaving him alone in the alley.

Yeah, he was definitely whipped.

“Penis Parker.” Flash slammed an open hand against the lockers next to Peter the following day. “Do you want to tell me why I kept seeing your name on my sister phone last night? Why were you texting her? Are you trying to colonize my families bloodline or something? No white men allowed.”

“What? And no.” Peters face heated up at the accusation. “We’re just friends.”

“You don’t have friends.” Flash snapped.

“Yes he does.” You appeared behind your brother and pushed him lightly. “That’ll be all, thank you.”

Flash narrowed his eyes at you before returning his attention to Peter.

“If you go near my sister again, I’m gonna turn your innie belly button into an outie.” Flash whispered.

“How?” Peter asked with genuine curiosity.

“You don’t want to find out.” He said through gritted teeth before storming away.

“He’s so annoying.” You rolled your eyes and leaned against Peters locker. “You look cute today.”

“Thanks.” Peter chuckled shyly as he looked down at his outfit. “I, um, I have a dilemma.”

“Is this about our date?” You worried.

“It’s just, your family is rich and my family is just me and my aunt. I know Flash makes a lot of jokes about me being poor, but they’re not really jokes.” He explained sheepishly. “I don’t think I can give you the kind of magical date you deserve.”

“Peter, I don’t need a fancy date. I just want to be with you.” You assured him as you stroked his cheek. “Why don’t you bring your favorite snack and I’ll bring my favorite drink and we can lay on top of your building and stargaze?”

“That sounds kinda perfect.” He admitted with a sly smile.

“Does tonight work?” You asked hopefully.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I’ll text you my address.”

“Okay. I’ll see you in Physics.” You squeezed his hand before walking away.

You walked into your living room that night, all dressed up for your date. You stopped in front of a mirror to check your makeup, accidentally catches Flash’s eye.

“You look nice.” Flash said as his eyes flicked from you to his phone. “But you know, prostitution is still illegal in New York. It’s a damn shame, though. Sex work is still work.”

“You know, every once in a while, something intelligent comes out of your mouth. Gives me goosebumps every time.” You teased him as you applied your lipgloss.

“Wait, where are you going?” He put his phone down. “It’s a Wednesday night.”

“I’m going to a friends building to look at the stars.” You told him most of the truth.

“Are you walking there?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “It’s not that far.”

“Let me drive you. You have your mace on you, right?” He asked from the kitchen as he grabbed his keys.

“Always.”

“Okay.” He reappeared with his keys. “Let’s go.”

You kept light conversation as you drove to Peters apartment building, careful not to reveal who you were meeting. Flash parked out front and looked at the building in disdain.

“Your friend lives here?” He grimaced. “Is she poor?”

“Shut up. Those jokes aren’t nice.” You shoved him lightly. “Thanks for driving me.”

“It’s okay.” He nodded. “Text me when I should pick you up.”

“I will. Get home safe.” You told him as you got out of the car.

“Whatever. Don’t get pregnant.” He pointed at you. “I mean it.”

“Drive away.” You rolled your eyes as you shut the car door. You walked into the lobby and found the elevator, letting out a nervous breath as you got in. You were standing in from of Peters door in no time, anxiously waiting for him to open it.

Finally, he did.

“Are you ready to stargaze?” You asked as you held up a jug of apple juice.

“Are you ready to eat this entire box of goldfish?” Peter responded as he held up a carton of goldfish.

“You know it.” You laughed and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”

An hour later, you were lying on your backs in opposite directions with your heads pressed together, staring up at the stars.

“I don’t think there’s anything more beautiful than a night sky.” You sighed in content.

“I know something.” Peter looked at you, though you were upside down from his perspective.

“If you say me, I’m going kick you in the throat.” You laughed as you looked at him.

“Why?” He laughed as well.

“I don’t know.” You covered your face with your hands. “I’m not good with compliments. I don’t know how to respond.”

Peter turned his head so he was looking at you, eyes trailing over your side profile.

“I think you’re beautiful.” He told you, loving the way it made your draw drop. You rolled onto your side and looked at him before rolled on top. You rested your arms on either side of his face, admiring his face in the starlight, even if it was upside down. Your eyes flickered from his lips to his eyes and before he knew it, you were kissing him. He tilted his chin up so he could kiss you back, finding the position a little awkward as your nose bumped his chin. You both giggled into the kiss before continuing, only breaking away when you needed air. You flipped back on your back and let out a happy sigh, covering your face with your hand to hide your smile.

“That’s one way to respond.” Peter joked, breaking the silence. You laughed and rolled onto your side, him doing the same.

“I really like you.” You admitted, scrunching your nose at how weird it felt to say out loud.

“I really like you too.” Peter told you before leaning in for another kiss.

And that was the beginning of your relationship. You both knew Flash could not find out that you were dating, at least not yet. You had to cave and tell him you and Peter were friends around your second month of dating after he caught him in your room, but you didn’t tell him the full extent of your relationship. You disguised dates as casual hangouts, to which Flash heavily objected. He made his disliking for your “friendship” with Peter known.

“Ugh. You two.” Flash grumbled when he came into the kitchen to find you and Peter making cookies. You gave Peter a pointed look that told him to ignore your brother as Flash got food out of the pantry.

“Cracker.” He looked at Peter with a box of snacks in his hands.

“No thank you.” Peter said politely.

“I wasn’t offering. I was insulting.” Flash blew him a kiss before putting a cracker in his mouth. Peter looked at you for help and you gave him a sympathetic smile.

“How are you two friends?” He wondered. “You’re the worst people on the planet.”

“I beg to differ.” Peter began. “I think-“

“The beg.” Flash snapped before winking at Peter.

“We’re friends because we have similar interest.” You shrugged as you stirred the ingredients. “For example, we’re both very interested in you leaving the room.”

“Whatever. I was just making sure Parker doesn’t steal anything.” Flash shot daggers at Peter as he got a drink from the refrigerator. You and Peter stood in silence until you were sure Flash was gone, sighing in relief when he disappeared.

“Do you think he knows?” You whispered to Peter out of the corner of your mouth.

“He doesn’t suspect a thing.” Peter shook his head before pulling you into a kiss.

This was how it continued for month. You posed as friends and dated in secret, never letting your brother know the truth.

“Guess who?” You felt hands cover your eyes from behind. You immediately recognized Peters voice and turned around in his arms.

“What are you doing here?” You looked at him with wide eyes. “Flash could walk in at any minute.”

“I wanted to surprise you.” He smiled. “Happy three month anniversary, princess.”

“Happy anniversary, lover.” You smiled back at him before pulling him into a long kiss. For once, you didn’t care if your brother walked in. All you cared about was Peter.

“I have something for you.” Peter smirked once he pulled away.

“What? You didn’t have to get me anything.” You told him.

“Course I did.” He shrugged as he took a small box out of his pocket. “It’s okay if you didn’t get me anything.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t get you anything.” You winked at him before disappearing into your closet. You returned with a large carton of Goldfish with a bright red bow on it.

“Goldfish!” He lit up. “You remembered.”

“Of course I did, lover. How could I forget the taste of your goldfish breath the first time I kissed you?” You teased him as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Well you must’ve like it since you’ve come back for more everyday since.” He shot back before kissing you. “Open yours.”

You took the box from him and opened it up, finding a hand maid needed bracelet with a moon decal that looked like Peter had carved himself.

“The moon?” You looked up at him with a curious smile.

“It’s a waxing crescent. That’s what the moon looked like the night you kissed me. I have a matching one, see?” He held up his wrist to show you his bracelet. You stated at it for a moment before your eyes went back to his gift.

“Peter.” You mumbled without taking your eyes away from the bracelet.

“Do you like it?” He bit his lip as he waited for your reaction. You looked up at him with a grin before throwing your arms around his neck and squeezing him tightly.

“I love it.” You said into his ear. “Thank you so much.”

“I’m so glad you like it.” He smiled at you for a moment before getting serious. As he was looking at you, he realized he had never trusted someone more. Something came over him that made him want to give you every thing he had, including his deepest secret.

“I have to tell you something. No, I, I want to tell you something.” He corrected. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, actually. Um, this is so hard to say, wow.”

“It’s okay, Peter.” You put your hand in his face when you saw how flustered his was getting. “I love you too.”

Peter’s face drained of color at your confession as that was not at all what he was about to say.

“What?” He squeaked.

“I love you too.” You repeated, not understanding his confusion.

“That’s…that’s not what I was gonna say.” He blurted and your face fell.

“Oh.” You withdrew your arms from around his neck, feeling embarrassment and disappointment all at once. Peter realized his mistake and tried to pull you back.

“No, no.” Peter said quickly. “I was gonna tell you I’m Spider-Man.”

“What?” You nearly screamed.

“But I love you too! I love you so much.” He took your face in his hands and kissed you repeatedly.

“You’re Spider-Man?” You pushed him away long enough to ask.

“Yes. But more importantly, we’re in love!” He kissed you again. “Happy three months.”

“Happy three months.” You giggled between kisses.

You stood with Peter outside of school a few months later as you waited for Flash to come out.

“This is my least favorite part of the day.” Peter pouted as he rubbed your hand with his thumb.

“Why?” You tilted your head.

“I don’t get to see you anymore.” He looked at you with a shy smile. You smiled back at his cuteness and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Marching band ends at 4 right? How about I come over after that? We can do anything you want.” You suggested as you played with the collar of his shirt.

“Anything I want?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I’m feeling generous.” You shrugged. You were about to lean in to kiss him when you noticed your brother in the distance.

“Oh no.” You sighed and stepped back from Peter. “Don’t turn around.”

“Hey Penis Parker.” Flash jumped behind Peter and smacked his butt before looking at you. “Sup bitch.”

“Hi Flash.” You smiled tightly at him.

“What are you losers taking about?” He asked. “How you’re never gonna lose your virginities?”

You and Peter exchanged a knowing look and he turned his head to snort.

“We’re talking about how grabbing peoples butts without their permission is sexual harassment.” You spoke up to cover Peters laugh.

“Oh, really? That’s cool.” He smacked Peters butt again. “Are you ready to go? My car is on and she’s ready to purr.”

“God, I hate you.” You sighed. “I’ll see you later, Peter.”

“See you later. Bye.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your lips, entirely forgetting that Flash was there. Your eyes widened as Peter was about to walk away, but Flash held his hand up to stop him.

“Hold up.” He looked at Peter. “What was that?”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and looked at you, only realizing his mistake when he noticed your messed up lipstick. He let out a small gasp before looking at Flash, who was shaking with anger.

“Um…physical affection?” Peter said weakly. You slammed your palm against your forehead and let out a sigh.

“Thanks for the run down, Penis Parker.” Flash snapped. “You’re dating my sister?”

“Yeah, Flash.” You put a hand on Peters shoulder. “Peter and I are dating.”

“Excuse me a minute.” He held up and finger before bending down as if he was going to puke. “BLEH.”

You rolled your eyes as your brother continued to make puking sounds.

“I cannot stand this man.” You grumbled. Flash stopped for a moment and stood up, looking eerily composed.

“Y/n, could you give Peter and I a minute to ourselves, please?” He said through a tight smile.

“Um, are you gonna kill him?” You scratched your ear as you looked between your fearfully boyfriend and your suspiciously calm brother.

“I haven’t decided yet.” Flash said, never breaking his smile.

“Don’t go.” Peter looked at you in fear.

“You’ll be okay.” You decided. “I’ll be right over there.”

Flash waited until you walked away until he started interrogating Peter.

“How long had this been going on?” Flash started out.

“Seven months.” Peter told him.

“Is it serious?”

“I love her.” Peter smiled shyly.

“Gross.” Flash gagged. “Does she love you back?”

“Yes.” Peter nodded. “She tells me everyday.”

“So every time I drove into the slums of New York to drop her off at the cardboard box you call an apartment building, I was dropping her off at your place? I was hand delivering my sister to you?” Flash realized.

“Yes.” Peter repeated. “Are you mad?”

“You know what”,Flash let out a breath, “I’m okay.”

“You are?” Peters jaw dropped a little. He had been expecting a beating, or at least a wedgie.

“Yeah.” Flash put his hand on Peters shoulder and rubbed it. “She couldn’t be in better hands, Spiderman.”

He had whispered the last part, making all the blood drain from Peters face.

“How did you-“

“I eavesdrop on people constantly.” Flash cut him off. “I can’t stop. My therapist says it’s because I didn’t get enough attention as a kid, but what does that bitch know? I overheard her husband on the phone telling her that their kid bit somebody again. Again! I never did that. The moon bracelet was a nice touch, by the way. She really likes it.”

“You just told me way too much about you.” Peter blinked a few times as he processed what he just heard.

“Now we’re even.” Flash smirked and shot him a wink.

“Are you gonna tell anyone?” He asked nervously.

“Course not. I would do anything for Spider-Man.” Flash stated firmly. “That secret is safe with me. I am, however, gonna tell everyone that you and her are dating.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s super embarrassing for her. Later, Parker.” He held out his hands for Peter to shake, pulling him in when their hands touched.

“Swing me around the city in your arms and I won’t kill you for dating my sister.” He whispered in Peters ear. Peter looked at him in fear as he walked away. You immediately ran up to Peter once your brother was gone and put a hand on his arm.

“What happened?” You asked. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Peter told you. “I think I have a date with your brother.”

“You - huh?” You asked for clarification but Peter just shook his head.

“I don’t know.” He sighed in defeat. “I’ll text you after band practice.”

“Yeah I’ll-“ You were cut off by Flash honking his horn and calling your name.

“I’ll text you later.” You grumbled and shot a look at Flash.

“Okay.” Peter kissed you before you began to walk away. “I love you.”

“I love you.” You called over your shoulder as you made your way to Flash’s car. Upon hearing this, Flash just had to chime in.

“I love you too Penis Parker!”

Tag List 🏷

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[mayyourshipsbewithyou]

Things I loved about In the Heights

-The sounds of the city are part of the music of the opening song

-The frame story is the only way this story should be told; the story only works if it shows the results of Usnavi's decision to stay

-Anthony and Lin shaking hands

-Yay to random mixed race couple asking for directions

-“I hope you’re writing this down I’m gonna test you later” only makes sense with kids

-Showing different residents of Washington Heights provides scale

-I’m not sure about the decision to cut Camila, but if it means less Nina drama, then I love it

-I love how Usnavi has his friends’ orders all ready to go

-LOVE how Usnavi announces Benny’s entrance

-Everything about Vanessa in this movie is perfect=> she’s given so much more depth, her beauty is downplayed, she’s kind of a nerd, but has a beautiful smile

-Nina’s heels=> metaphor for her reaching for the stars

-I love the actress that plays Nina; she’s the right age and her singing voice is so sweet

-Nina’s hair is straight when she’s at school; as soon as she comes home, it’s curly=>she can be herself at home

-When Nina turns around and sees the crowd of people counting on her=> I felt that

-I love seeing Nina get her acceptance letter; I remember what that was like for my brother

-Camila must have died while Nina was at college in this version; Nina lost her mother recently which helps explain her different reason for dropping out; she feels lost

-I don’t know why Sonny is using this deep voice, but I love it!

-Whoever decided to have 96,000 take place at the pool is a genius

-The graphics at the beginning of 96,000 are good for helping regular people understand the rap

-Pete just put his arm around Sonny=> are they dating?

-Sonny yelling 96,000 as he enters the pool=> the sound design

-Pete nodding along to Usnavi=> sucking up to the family

-Usnavi is such a proud cousin-uncle during Sonny’s part in 96,000

-Vanessa making her “I'll be downtown” walk down a ramp

-The dancer doing flips is now a diver doing spins into the pool

-On stage, the lighting was dark; in the movie, it’s underwater

-The circles of people in the pool reflect the zeros in 96,000

-Lin and Chris being rivals is perfect; their bromance is everything

-Nina and Benny being together before the events of the movie means they are the beta couple and have less drama than Usnavi/Vanessa which is how it should be

-Benny joins in during “on that fire escape”=> like West Side Story

-Benny’s “Let me in” against the fence is hilarious

-Nina and Benny are FUN, not angsty like in the original

-Nina following the little girl=> following herself, following her dreams which eventually lead her to the sea; all of this is done while she’s talking about her past

-Nina and Benny instrumental™ part 1 in the middle of “When You’re Home”, Benny interrupts=> their story isn't complete yet

-Benny says he believes in her without discounting her feelings

-Everyone loving Nina=> I finally get it

-Nina is home geographically and with people who love her

-Benny is Nina’s home

-In the Heights is about how dreams are great, but the life you have now can be so beautiful

-Nina’s hair during the dinner/club scene is great

-Usnavi is wearing his dad’s hat for his date with Vanessa; he knows that she is to him what his mom was for his dad

-Family dinners are the same in every culture

-Awkwardness of long-time friends going on a date

-Vanessa offers Usnavi his first drink of the night; he thinks that’s what she wants; because why would she want him and only him?

-Usnavi whispering in Vanessa’s ear is so sexy

-Love that Benny is on Nina’s side instead of being mad at her

-I wonder if they thought 5 years of Benny working for Kevin was too much or too little since they changed that line to "all these years"

-Benny’s reactions to Vanessa dancing at the club are hilarious

-Vanessa laughing at Usnavi dancing with someone else

-Nina is always smiling and laughing at the things going on around her; not as self centered

-Nina and Benny dancing at the club=> all of the yeses

-Usnavi is too nervous about being alone with Vanessa that he un-dated himself; he wasn’t quite ready

-Love that they consciously cut all the “Usnavi, help me” parts=> Vanessa is not a victim

-Fireworks are a romantic setting for Sonny and Pete, just saying

-Usnavi/Benny/Nina talking about the fourth member of their square gives me feelings; I need more of these four in fanfic, my dreams

-“I got to wait for Vanessa”=> the stuff dreams are made of

-Benny is such a good person; he’s even better than the original which is what he deserves

-Usnavi is relieved to have Vanessa call his name

-“Don’t walk away from us tonight”=> great addition

-To give Usnavi and Vanessa some of Nina and Benny’s original lines is to see the face of God

-The first time I saw this, I’m ashamed to admit, I thought Benny was going to steal money from the dispatch; I was a fool

-Dancer with fireworks on his shoes

-Benny is smart and good; he isn’t doing this for Kevin or Nina but for the people of New York

-Abuela was able to see stars again on the last night of her life

-I’m sad Blackout isn’t exactly the same but the orchestral parts that cover up what is unsaid is so beautiful it makes up for it

-Abuela’s family is her “fireworks”; they are what light up the Heights

-Sonny came to Usnavi instead of being with his dad during the blackout; his real family

-Abuela’s smile as she looks at her family while reflecting on her childhood is the most beautiful thing there will ever be

-Paciencia y Fe as a dream sequence is how it was meant to be

-The transition on the subway from reality to memory

-Paciencia y Fe is a mixture of cultures; like Abuela’s memories

-“Wide awake”=> stepping off the subway

-The same actress played Abuela on Broadway and in the movie

-Abuela may be in a musical, but she’s still an old woman

-“As I feed these birds”=> back to the present

-Calor means heat in Spanish but in English it sounds like color

-Abuela dying during the night of the blackout is perfect

-Usnavi saying “she was just here” twice: when she was literally just there and many years, maybe a decade, after the fact

-Usnavi’s daughter is the life that goes on after Abuela is gone

-Usnavi and Nina crying together

-Those closest to Abuela are inside and everyone else is outside

-Iris was sitting on the outside and now she’s in the middle; needed comfort from her friends

-“Should we take a break?”=> we’re past the point of an intermission

-“No daddy, keep going”=> does this look like a stage production to you? It’s a fucking movie

-There isn’t a clear point for an intermission; the action stays strong over where the intermission should be; this is a movie, not a play, and movies don’t have intermissions

-Everyone’s holding candles; like the stars Abuela loved so much

-Iris called Usnavi Daddy for the first time because that was the point in the story where he needed to hear that the most

-“I thought about the people I care about the most, I thought about you”

-Anthony makes Usnavi sexy in a way Lin never could

-So many people love Vanessa, but no one better than Usnavi

-Abuela paid to have Camila's napkins cleaned after all

-Usnavi is the kind of parent that doesn’t sugarcoat life

-Vanessa listed no emergency contacts even though she had people

-“That’s senorita to you”=> yes girl, get it

-Love Daniela for getting everyone out of their asses

-“Tonteria” means foolishness=> the more you know

-How fast Carla says no to “ask me why” shows how quickly she wants to please her love

-Usnavi’s Nueva York t-shirt=> I need it

-Daniela’s first effect being on a woman whose hair is terrible

-Carla pushing that man away from her woman with a bullshit excuse

-My friend was laughing at the parts that were meant to be jokes

-Usnavi’s entrance being announced in Carnaval del Barrio; just like Benny in the opening song

-“There’s nothing holding me down”=> assuming he was rejected

-The different communities dancing with their flags

-Nina being part of Carnaval del Barrio is great

-Even Kevin, kind of an old man, can get down

-Since Nina and Benny sex scene wasn’t shown on screen (praise Jesus), I have to assume Nina told Daniela even though she knows she’s a huge gossip

-Everyone stops because Sonny, a kid, starts singing

-Vanessa and Sonny are so powerful together

-Vanessa’s hand on Sonny’s shoulder

-A kid providing Usnavi with the “flag I’ve got in my hand”

-Usnavi and Vanessa dancing together is muy romantico

-Everything about Nina’s appearance in “When the Sun Goes Down”

-“Let me just listen to my block”=> peak Nina

-Abuela wrote “for Usnavi” on her lotto ticket 😭

-They cut so many songs but kept Champagne=>I love their priorities

-The pause before “you outta stay”

-Everyone has such great chemistry; especially Usnavi and Vanessa

-The choreography in Champagne is what I’ve always imagined

-Usnavi didn’t have time to cash in because Vanessa came over

-Vanessa and Pete friendship for the win

-“Best days of my life” is said thrice=> good things come in threes

-Usnavi staring at the room where Vanessa kissed him

-Iris knows he stayed; she loves her dad so much

-Usnavi looking out his window in Washington Heights and seeing his friends on his dad’s beach

-When Usnavi talks about Kevin at the dispatch, the camera flashes to an abandoned building

-“Vanessa at the salon”=> Usnavi sheds a tear

-Vanessa being front and center during Usnavi’s decision to stay

-Hearing the sounds of the beach during the unveiling

-It’s all about Vanessa=> perfection

-Lin being at the ending is perfect no matter the context

-“Say it so it doesn’t disappear”=> the sad reality is your neighborhood probably will disappear

-Usnavi telling his daughter “you’re it” is everything

-Iris understanding all of the little details of her father’s store now that she knows his story

-Iris is the goddess of the rainbow like the light that appears when water appears on a sunlit day

-“Man, you talk forever”=> that’s so “How I Met Your Mother”

-Iris has a necklace of seashells, like the islands

-Vanessa would sooner get wet than let go of Usnavi’s hand

[zuko-always-lies]

Katara, Gender, the Double Burden, and the Problematic Gender Norms of Modern Western Society

To start this off, I want to make it clear that I absolutely love Katara as a character. I think she’s amazing, complex, and interesting.

Yet I find the way the narrative of ATLA frames her to be intensely problematic.  Much more under the cut:

So, to start off Katara is depicted as someone deeply interested in learning how to fight, despite the entrenched sexism she faces within Water Tribe society. That’s not an issue with her character and is in fact one of the more endearing parts of it. And, of course, Katara is an amazing combatant and frequently takes the lead in fight scenes, bearing the full burden of fighting the war on the frontlines.  She can also heal, but until LoK’s questionable depiction of her, that was never the center of her character.

The problem with Katara’s depiction is the other half of it. We find out this out in “The Runaway”: 

Katara: Fine! It's a lie. But you've been so out of control lately, I knew something was up. I knew you were hiding something, and you were. (Toph knocks the poster from Katara's hand and walks away.) Don't you walk away from me while I'm talking to you! Toph: Oh, really, Mom? Or what are you going to do? Send me to my room? Katara: I wish I could. Toph: Well, you can't. Because you're not my mom, and you're not their mom. (She points to Aang and Sokka.) Katara: I never said I was! Toph: No, but you certainly act like it. You think it's your job to boss everyone around, but it's not. You're just a regular kid like the rest of us, so stop acting like you can tell me what to do. I can do whatever I want! Katara: (chagrined) I don't act that way. (in a shrill and anxious voice) Sokka, do I act motherly? (Sokka, alarmed, decides discretion is the better part of valor.) Sokka: Hey - I'm staying out of this one. Katara: What do you think, Aang? Do I act like a mom? Aang: (digging nervously at his eye) Well, I... Katara: Stop rubbing your eye and speak clearly when you talk! Aang: (chastened) Yes, ma'am.

And this:

Toph: So let me guess. You brought me out here to tell me your sister's not as annoying as I make her out to be. Sokka: Nah, she's pretty much a pain. (Katara scowls.) She's always got to be right about everything, and she gets all bossy, and involved, and in your business. Toph: Yeah, I don't know how you can deal with it. Sokka: Actually, in a way, I rely on it. Toph: I don't understand. Sokka: When our mom died, that was the hardest time in my life. Our family was a mess, but Katara, she had so much strength. She stepped up and took on so much responsibility. She helped fill the void that was left by our mom. Toph: I guess I never thought about that. Sokka: I'm gonna tell you something crazy. I never told anyone this before, but honestly, I'm not sure I can remember what my mother looked like. It really seems like, my whole life, Katara's been the one looking out for me. She's always been the one that's there, and now, when I try to remember my mom, Katara's is the only face I can picture. (Katara is overcome with emotion.) Toph: The truth is, sometimes Katara does act motherly, but that's not always a bad thing. She's compassionate and kind, and she actually cares about me. You know, the real me. That's more than my own mom. (Katara lowers her head, in sadness or perhaps shame.) Don't ever tell her I said any of this.

We also find this out in the very first episode of the show:

Katara: Ugh, I'm embarrassed to be related to you! Ever since Mom died I've been doing all the work around camp while you've been off playing soldier! Sokka (noticing the cracking iceberg): Uh... Katara? Katara: I even wash all the clothes! Have you ever smelled your dirty socks? Let me tell you, NOT PLEASANT! Sokka: Katara! Settle down! Katara: No, that's it. I'm done helping you. From now on, you're on your own!

So Katara is firmly established as Team Mom. However, there’s something very screwed up here. You see, Kya died when Katara was 8 years old and Sokka was 9. 8 year old Katara stepped up to be the “mother” of her family and became the caretaker, both physically and emotionally for her older brother to the degree he can’t really remember his mother because it seems like Katara has been always been his caretaker. This is clear example of parentification, something deeply traumatic to a child.

Katara’s official show bio even said this:

Fourteen-year-old Katara is the heart of the show. She is a caring and passionate teenage girl. Kindness and empathy are her most endearing traits.  When outraged, her desire to rectify wrongs often overrides the trio’s safety. Katara is determined to save the world, despite her limited abilities.  Katara’s dogged determination keeps her going.  Katara is very mature and responsible for her age and always plays the mediator between Aang and Sokka. She is the glue that holds them together.

And we get the sense that she has to be the mature and responsible one in “The Desert.”

Katara is also someone who very much bears the burden of looking after the emotional needs of the rest of the Gaang. She gives comfort more often than she receives it.  Here’s a classic example from “The Southern Air Temple”:

Katara:  [In the background, Sokka is hunched over his rock, clenching his teeth together. Katara shouts calmly with a sad expression on her face. The camera slowly moves in on her.] Aang! I know you're upset and I know how hard it is to lose the people you love. I went through the same thing when I lost my mom. [Diverts her eyes. Shot switches to a frontal view of Aang, his tattoos glowing and wind swirling around him; his clothes flutter in the storm. Sokka runs over to his sister in the background.] Monk Gyatso and the other airbenders may be gone, [Close-up of her as she looks up at him.] but you still have a family. Sokka and I! [Sokka opens his eyes and glances at his sister.] We're your family now!

Even Katara’s trauma regarding her mother’s death is usually brought up not for its own sake but in the context of making her emphasize with the issues of other people(for instance with Aang in “The Southern Air Temple,” with Haru in “Imprisoned,” and with Zuko in “The Crossroads of Destiny”). Her deepest pain becomes a tool to make her more empathetic and caring.

Katara is also the member of the Gaang who we most regularly see doing basic chores:

What does this all mean?

a) Katara is someone who has experienced the deeply traumatic experience of parentification.

b) Katara, like many women, is someone who bears the double burden of both “working”(i.e. fighting in ATLA’s context) and being a caregiver. She has to be healer, fighter, emotional caretaker, and physical caretaker all once.

To be clear, there’s nothing wrong writing Katara that way. The issue is that the narrative never depicts 90% of what Katara has to undergo as being problematic or traumatizing. The fact that she has to be responsible for her age and has been a primary caretaker since she was eight is considered endearing, rather than something traumatizing.

Why is that so? Because the dominant modern western cultural ideal for women is for them to bear the double burden, to both be workers(with all the attendant demands) and to be self-abnegating caretakers. Moreover, the fact that Katara is a girl of color encourages people to see her as older than she is. 

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

Emotional abuse is NOT to be normalized.

Hello everyone! Anon from the “

I’m a victim of emotional abuse

” post. And today I’m going to explain my story of the emotional abuse I went through. 

My story begins as a lot do, online. I was about 10 years old so I didn’t know what were red flags, and what relationships I should avoid. I had a very toxic friend group back then that enjoyed self deprecation and honestly bullying each other, me included. We used to do the cringe roleplays children do and making cringe oc’s. I met someone we’ll call Rin. 

Rin didn’t bully me like the others in the friend group and very often came to me for opinions, and over all talking without making me feel like utter garbage. I ate up all the praise, all the love and support Rin gave me. However, even as early as friendship, they would get angry at me if I did stuff they didn’t like and would sometimes ignore me, sometimes verbally assault me into apologizing for things I really shouldn’t have. 

»»————-————-««

For context, Back then I was both unmedicated for anxiety and I was going through a harsh time with my aunt and cousins living with us. When I was 6, my drug addict uncle committed suicide and I’d been living with them for about 4 years by that time. (No, my parents nor aunt told us he committed suicide. at the time, don’t worry) They made my life HELL, constantly getting me in trouble and generally putting me down. 

Context: Rin was 16 when i was 10. 

»»————-————-««

One day I was doing our daily playing games with the friend group and Rin when one of our friends, Rose, Told us we’d make a *great* couple. By that time I had some feelings for Rin, we’d voice call occasionally, to me they weren’t a stranger. Rin had agreed and in hind sight I was kind of pressured into the relationship. 

All of the behavior I mentioned before, where they would get pissy whenever I did something they didn’t like or get nice when I did something they *did* like got WORSE. It’s nothing like what media presents, because when people wish to manipulate you they will without hesitation. 

Rin began threatening bodily harm, showing me cuts if I did something vaguely wrong. They would tell me I was worthless without them. That if I’d “Only just listen to me I could make you the best girl ever!" 

They found it funny when I’d get squeamish over topics, continuing the conversations and saying that if I’d just tell them that I’d like it then they’d stop. 

One day when I was 11, it just got too much for me so I said we needed to break up. You wanna know what Rin did? 

They threatened suicide. They told me if I left them they’d kill themselves. That I was all they were living for. That I was the love of their life and if I left them it’d be my fault if they killed themselves. 

I was 11, I didn’t know any better about the situation but I knew I didn’t want them to die so I stayed. I stayed in the relationship. I tried 3 more times to break up with the same result. the same threat of Suicide. Sometimes with photos. 

After that original threat they began getting s*xual. They began mentioning we should meet up IRL, despite us being several states apart. They began describing what they’d do to my body s*xually when we met IRL. They told me that if I didn’t want to fulfill their fantasy’s I was a bad SO. That I should only exist to fulfill their wants and *their* needs. It didn’t matter what I wanted.

when I was 12, I finally had an out. They had been stabbed and sent to the hospital. They weren’t online so I took the chance and broke up with them when they couldn’t do anything about it. They tried when they got back but I was long gone. 

Now normally Media presents this as when a trauma victim starts healing and returns to perfect normalcy. That isn’t the case. Its been at least 4 years since I left them, since I got out of that situation, but I still have the fears. Have the insecurities. I still hear their voice telling me I’m worthless, That I’d be better off a trophy on their wall. That since I’m not their perfect ideal woman I should just shut up and be the best wife to the next man that decides I’m worth their time.

my anxiety’s voice, once a always changing one *became* their voice. I’ve healed, I’ve moved on from the abuse but their voice haunts me. Their Abuse has left mental scars that will NEVER heal. 

This is why having Mental Abuse of any form be normalized is horrible. because it means more people like me will go through situations like these. and not be allowed to escape because we’re "over reacting”. Because we’re “just in hysterics. it’s perfectly normal!" 

this is a serious issue that shouldn’t be brushed under the rug. Miraculous Ladybug is the WORST offender of normalizing Mental Abuse I have ever seen. because I KNOW the red flags. I have trained myself to see them. To protect myself. 

Normalizing normal little issues is fine. But mental abuse? never. NEVER should ANY form of abuse be normalized because it means more victims will appear. This shouldn’t even be a thing but here I am. Having to fight for people to realize this isn’t a thing that should be just accepted. 

TL;DR: My first ex threatened to cause bodily harm when i was 10, and when i was 11 threatened suicide for me daring to try and break up with them. I escaped when i was 12, only barely. Now my anxiety has taken their voice and haunts me to this day.

If you’ve read this long, thank you! and have some

kittens

for what I just made you read. Thank you for your time. 

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

First of all, I want to thank you for your bravery in coming forward to share your experience. I am so sorry you had to go through this. Nobody deserves to be treated this way.

Second, you still raise a valid point. 

Media in general tends to downplay emotional abuse and parental neglect, a good example being Monica Geller’s relationship with her parents from Friends. Almost every episode featuring Monica’s mom showed her being insensitive to her daughter and constantly belittled her while undermining her achievements like prioritizing Ross’ new girlfriend over Monica’s weight loss in a flashback. Even if it was unintentional on her part, it still damaged Monica’s psyche, and this kind of treatment was always played for laughs.

The fact that even shows today tend to downplay mental trauma shows that people don’t really understand the kind of damage it can cause.

The way Chloe’s relationship with her mother is portrayed is a good example. At least Friends is targeted towards an older audience so it could be enjoyed in a morbid way by laughing at Monica’s misery, but at its core, Miraculous Ladybug is aimed at children. Children will see Chloe bonding with her neglectful mother and see it as normal, as a good thing.

The fact that Astruc still doesn’t get how bad Chloe’s upbringing was shows he doesn’t get mental abuse either.

You need to better understand mental trauma before actually trying to write it. Otherwise, you end up depicting mental abuse in the wrong way and give viewers the wrong impression of it.

[the-sound-of-her-wings]

I Am Not Starfire, And That's Okay

I recently read I Am Not Starfire and I had lots of thoughts, which are under the cut. It is spoiler-heavy and an analysis of the main character, who I find to be a charming, flawed, and incredibly human character.

Mandy is a fascinating character and a great look at a teenage girl who feels ostracized by the people around her and who feels disconnected from her parent. Mandy is by no means flawless, and that's what makes her very interesting. It also makes her relatable.

Mandy starts by talking about how she's noticeably different from her mom, being the "Anti-Starfire". She's a regular kid, can't fly, and doesn't own a swimsuit, while her mom is a superhero, can fly, and always wears bikinis.

On page 11 she mentions "her mom hasn't liked how I looked since I was twelve. She wears less than a yard of fabric every day, yet somehow, I'm the one who's dressing weird". While I understand people who call this slut-shaming, and I'm inclined to agree, but I think it's a little more nuanced than that. The next page reads, "My friend Lincoln convinced me this is the cultural divide that happens between family generations born in different countries or universes. His parents were born in Vietnam." This tells me that the authors intended to point out the difference in dress more as another difference between Starfire and Mandy, and less as a reason to blatantly slut-shame Starfire. I think there's absolutely a conversation to be had about why the authors decided to use this language instead of conveying the point differently. I also think it speaks to how Starfire has more or less been sexualized from inception, and how people look down upon her character because of that. In the context of this book, though, it's one of Mandy's character flaws that I think fits her both as a character and reflects what I've seen from actual teenage girls. Our society coaches us to view women who dress a certain way as less than women who don't and unlearning that takes time and effort. I don't think this comment about her mom should have been put in there by the authors, but I do think it fits in with the values American society in particular teaches about women.

Page 15, 16, and 17 all point to a far more complicated state of existence than Mandy points out within the first few pages. For one thing, Mandy has to deal with people who love her mother and only want to use her to get information about her mom and the other teen titans. This is shown by the "Titan groupies" who ask her to tell Starfire what they say about her. Another thing she has to deal with is the expectation to be a superhero and have powers like her mom, and the questions about who her dad might be. She gains her first real friend, Lincoln, because he tells the people asking about her parentage that they are assholes.

It is revealed that Mandy has a crush on Claire after she gets assigned a group project with her. Mandy is in denial over the crush. She thinks about the fact she's meeting Mandy at the end of the day throughout the rest of the school day, causing her to explode something in Chemistry Class. I find this to be highly relatable and gives her character a softer side to the edginess she desperately tries to portray herself as.

While talking about the project with Claire, it is revealed that Mandy ran out of her SATs and didn't complete them. While Mandy tries to paint this as a cool badass moment, the way the comic artist portrays the scene makes me think Mandy had an anxiety attack. Mandy didn't run out of her SAT because she's some kind of alternative badass who doesn't need to take them. Mandy ran out because she got overwhelmed by the sounds of people chewing and the pressure of the test. While she frames it differently, it's clear to me that Mandy is avoiding taking the SAT again because she doesn't want that to happen again.

When Claire invites her to hang out with her friends, Mandy gets treated like she isn't there, or as some kind of unwanted outsider. The topics they discuss seem to be specifically made to make Mandy uncomfortable, like mentioning how stretchy jeans are only made for fat people, and asking if aliens don't go to college. Jaded by this, Mandy makes up that aliens actually have to go through this huge blood right and battle to the death, but tells Claire's two friends she was joking before leaving. This tells me that Mandy deflects her pain by using humor to cope and has no issue clowning on people who are trying to belittle her for being an alien.

Starfire tries to bring up going to college after this, and Mandy just flees to her room. She hasn't told her mom she didn't take the SAT yet or that she isn't going to college. She feels distant from her mom, which is explained further through a montage of birthdays where she never got her powers. Her mom expects a lot from her, and Mandy thinks Starfire is disappointed about her lack of powers.

Later, Mandy invites Claire over to her house to complete the project they are working on. The Titans are still there when Claire arrives, but she seems to ignore them, as they leave shortly after. Mandy and Claire bond as they continue the project. Mandy reveals to the reader that she's never had a girlfriend, except for one time at sleep-away camp where she kind of dated a girl for four weeks. She didn't tell her who her mom was because she was tired of living in the shadow of a superhero. But the relationship ended because Mandy had lied about who her mom was, and the girl she was dating didn't understand why she would lie. I think this really shows just how much Mandy actually wants to be a normal girl like everyone else, to the extent that she'd lie about who her mom was. Her edgy demeanor at school and around town where her mom is known to be her mom is a defense mechanism to having lived under the shadow of a superhero her entire life.

When it's revealed that Claire took a photo with the Titans at Mandy's house, Mandy is understandable heartbroken, and furious. She thought she had been making a real connection with Claire, but this photo makes her think she's been used, again. Claire seems genuinely baffled by Mandy's reaction to this, thinking little of it. But to Mandy, it is a breach of trust from someone she thought cared about her. I think her angry reaction to Claire makes sense because of this, even if it might have been disproportionate to the offense.

On top of this, Starfire has discovered that Mandy walked out of the SAT and doesn't plan to go to college. After a heated conversation, she runs away, but her mom finds her. And then Blackfire finds her. Turns out the fake story she told Claire's friends earlier in the story was actually true, even though Mandy didn't know it.

Since Claire actually cares about Mandy, she tracks down Lincoln who explains to her why Mandy reacted badly, and that she should probably apologize for taking the photo. Claire also admits that one of the friends from earlier, Deb, actually dared her to take the photo. Claire is a good person at heart, but this action shows that she can still be influenced to do something that would hurt another person. And while she might not have known it would hurt Mandy, Deb probably did.

Starfire and Blackfire fight since Mandy has no powers, but Starfire gets injured causing Mandy to realize just how much she loves and cares about her mom, even though they don't see eye to eye on most things. This finally unlocks her powers, as she's let go of most of the resentment she's held against her mom. She even gets asked for an autograph by someone in the audience after the battle.

The story ends with Mandy training her powers, studying for the SAT, and reconciling with Claire, sharing a kiss, and becoming girlfriends.

I've seen a lot of discourse that frames Mandy as being "not like other girls". I don't believe this framing actually fits Mandy very well. The only girl Mandy ever says she is not like explicitly is her mom. She is the only woman she compares herself too, and the only person who she seems to have a lot of resentment for, aside from people who use her to get to Starfire. Additionally, Mandy falls for someone who is what a stereotypical, normal popular girl is often portrayed as. She's preppy, wears makeup, gets good grades, has friends, and runs a fairly popular Instagram account. If Mandy was extremely into the "Not like other girls" rhetoric, she would've made fun of Claire for all those things. Instead, she admires her for them. Mandy is fat, has acne/freckles, dresses goth, and wears a nose ring. If this is the reason people are identifying her as a "Not like other girls" girl, then they don't understand that trope. Simply dressing differently from your peers, being fat, and hating your mom does not make her the "not like other girls" trope. It actually makes her like other, real-life girls who dress and act similarly, because that's who they are, not because they somehow think they are better than other women.

I'd also make the argument that, fundamentally, Mandy IS different from other girls on the account of having a superhero mother and potentially a superhero father. Her life is completely altered by Starfire's existence as her mom and is likely only relatable to the children of other superheroes and celebrities. She is not like other girls because of her mom, and that still doesn't make her someone who falls in line with the conception of being "not like other girls".

I thoroughly enjoyed this book and hope others do too. I read Mandy as a flawed character who was trying to figure out how to exist outside the Shadow of her mom- and eventually succeeds, by learning to embrace her mom. I would've preferred if Mandy had a slightly darker skin tone, as her features seem black-coded to me and Starfire is also often black-coded. Otherwise, I do think this was one of the best DC Graphic Novels for Young Adults I've read, alongside Teen Titans: Beast Boy and Teen Titans: Raven.

[ghostietea]

On Tohru and Akito: a long overdue analysis

As some may know, Tohru Honda and Akito Sohma from the manga Fruits Basket are pretty much my all time favorite protagonist/antagonist pair. They just work incredibly well as thematic pieces and driving forces of the story in relation to eachother. And beyond even the surface level they have a rich and layered goldmine of parallels that make them fascinating to think about. While it may make many a newbie raise an eyebrow, I think this is a fact that is to some level pretty widely acknowledged in the fandom proper. However, there is another level of their relationship that is often mostly left out of analytical conversations about them and their parallels: their eventual friendship. Something which, partly due to screentime, is often somewhat simplified down and misinterpreted. Which I think is a shame because, when you look at it, their eleventh hour friendship is deeply interwoven with their parallels and the very thematics and ending of the story. So then, what’s really going on with the girls that stand as part of the thematic core of Furuba? Beyond (most of, true analytical objectivity is impossible in interpretation) my personal sentimental feelings, let’s talk Akito and Tohru: their parallels, relationship, and role in the story overal. Read more present, this is going to be a long one but I hope you stick around 😊

One facet of Akito and Tohru’s role in relationship to eachother that I think is both interesting and imperative to understanding their purpose is their nature as eachother’s foils, especially their parallels. See, the two girls are both opposite and the same. Takaya sets them up as foils before we even properly meet Akito, as you can see in these panels: 

However, their foil relationship becomes a lot more intriguing once their similarities become more apparent later in the story. Just think about it: two girls with boy’s names whose fathers died when they were young, leaving them alone with their mothers, who both developed behavior that, according to the environment that they grew up in, would keep them from being abandoned. Akito, coming from the cultish Sohma clan where she was treated as a God to the point that she thinks she can do no wrong and has tied all of her self worth to the role, plays the part of a male ruler who must uphold tradition and keep the zodiac with her by any means. Akito is terrified of being abandoned, especially since she has no idea how to have relationships outside of the context of the bond, only exacerbated by the fact that Ren, one of the only people that openly questions her role, has constantly told her that she’s useless and will be abandoned. This is something that informs all of her (many, terrible) decisions and leads her to try desperately to keep the curse together, something which puts her in direct conflict with Tohru, who actually wants the curse broken in part so that she won’t be abandoned. Tohru may not be as obvious with her abandonment issues as miss screeches-at-people-not-to-leave-her, but they still inform a good deal of her character. Like Akito, she develops behavior around the time of her father’s passing to try to keep herself from being abandoned, mirroring her father’s proper speech because she was worried that she was losing Kyoko.  But, as she grew older in her much warmer environment, Tohru turned to kindness instead of fear to capture others, maintaining a facade of extreme positivity, politeness, and determination so as to not bother anyone. And, while she hides it, Tohru just gets worse after losing her mother. She becomes dedicated to preserving her feelings about her mother as is, refusing to move on much as Akito also refuses to move on from the curse and what her father wanted. Then comes the beach house reveal, where Tohru learns that Akito plans to take away her new family, even locking up the one most precious to her. Tohru tells herself that she’s going to break the curse for the freedom of the zodiac and cat, but she is also, in a way, doing it to keep herself from being abandoned. Later this feeling changes to become more focused on preventing the loss of Kyo himself, something which Tohru doesn’t want to admit. Tohru is a truly good and kind person and does want to help, yes, but also some part of her is doing this to keep the ones she loves by her side, understandably as she is a teen that recently lost the person she revolved her whole life around. But it comes to a point that you have to realize: Akito and Tohru are both motivated by the same thing, they just present it in wildly different ways. I don’t think that I have to explain how exactly their behavior foils eachother, the more worldly and modern Tohru acting on radical kindness and acceptance and thinking she deserves nothing while the sheltered, traditional Akito uses manipulation and fear to get what she thinks she is entitled to. It’s very apparent, but just gets even spicier in the context of how similar they are. Another parallel is in Tohru’s mom picture vs Akito’s father box, both relics of their dead and favorite parent that they are extremely protective of and treat almost like it is their deceased parent. Early in the series Tohru is seen carrying around a photo of her mom which she talks to, something which seems pretty harmless, until we consider how terrified she is every time she thinks she’s lost it, even going as far as to refer to it as if it were her mother.  Notably, it barely shows up in the second half of the series, as she reluctantly drifts away from her mom and towards Kyo. In this later part of the series, we are introduced to Akito’s box, which she (semi, it’s complicated) thinks contains her father’s soul. Akito’s box is shown in a much darker light, from how the reveal of what it us to her is framed to how cruelly she reacts when it’s being stolen. Akito’s box is to Tohru’s photo what their owners narratively are to eachother: a dark mirror.

Ok, and now for the reason that I think it was important to bring all these parallels up first: because as you cannot understand Tohru and Akito as enemies without understanding their differences, you cannot understand them as friends without knowing their similarities. While it is easy to write off Tohru reaching out to Akito as just another case of Tohru being Tohru, that does a disservice to the full picture. I’ve seen around in the fandom that a good deal of people seem to think Tohru trying to befriend her is just Tohru being overly kind and forgiving, and this is something I think ties back a bit to some early fandom misconceptions about Tohru. Bear with me for a second, this is going to be a bit of a tangent but it ties back. It’s died down some now, but in the early Furuba fandom it was very common to just think of Tohru as a pretty flat nice girl doormat character, which besides misogyny is probably partially the fault of the 01 anime, which cuts off before we get to see more of Tohru’s insecurities and tones down what we do see (also, in the case of the relationship I’m talking about, 01 ads in that God awful end confrontation that I despise for being everything that I’m about to argue the ACTUAL confrontation that I like is not). Manga Tohru is a very subtle character, she hides a lot of her feelings behind a perpetually happy front which doesn’t start to let slip until later. And, since it’s later on in the manga which went unadapted for years and is mixed in with a bunch of crazy stuff, I think Tohru’s quiet development is often somewhat overlooked. For example, early series Tohru is very well known for the speeches she gives to the zodiac when she first meets them, speeches that, importantly, always tie back to things that her mom said. Tohru’s worldview back then revolved completely around Kyoko, so it’s probably a bit of a thing that in the later story, when Tohru draws ever nearer to the realization that she must move on, she does not give her mom speeches anymore? As opposed to the early story, when it was pretty much back to back character intros, in the late story Tohru notably only gets to befriend two new Sohmas: Isuzu and Akito. Notably, she doesn’t quote her mom either time, these are both people that she can relate to on some of her more hidden issues, and she shows a more personal side of her emotions in her turning point confrontations with them than she did earlier. It is especially important to realize that, in her confrontation on the cliff, Tohru is deciding that she is willing to go against her mom. Early series Tohru was a front anyways, and is a different Tohru from the one that finally gets through to Akito. I was using it as an example, but the evolution of Tohru’s befriending confrontations will be important later. Furthermore, there is the perception of Tohru as a doormat. Listen, Tohru may be very kind and polite, but one of her defining characteristics is being very determined and strong willed when need be. This is something that is especially relevant to her interactions with Akito. From the first meeting outside the school, Tohru knows to be wary of Akito and even breaks politeness and shoves her when she senses that Akito is making Yuki uncomfortable. This sets up immediately that Tohru can and will stand up to Akito. This is driven in even farther at the beach house, when Tohru, after again physically getting between Akito and a zodiac, decides that she will directly go against all of the Sohma family’s centuries of tradition and Akito herself to break the curse.  There’s even a cute moment when, upon remembering Akito telling her not to, Tohru just decides to meddle even harder. Tohru, while polite about it, does not like Akito and puts herself in direct opposition to her. Tohru does not originally want to be Akito’s friend, or to have anything to do with her. The cliff scene is not just Tohru befriending someone because she just is over forgiving and loves everyone (an argument can be made that she still goes to easy on Akito, but it’s in line with how the narrative treats her too so that’s another conversation), there was a specific reason both that she chose to try to get through to Akito and that it actually worked. Up until their big confrontation, Tohru still thinks of Akito as a threat, and while she has gotten more information that shakes up her view of Akito, she still doesn’t understand her well enough to see her as much more than an obstacle. Then Akito barges into her yard when she’s just been rejected, crying and confessing how terrified she is of being abandoned, of things changing, and Tohru just goes still, eyes wide in shock. And she realizes: her and Akito have been afraid of the same thing the whole time.  This is when Tohru decides to try to reach out to her. Because Tohru, on a deep level, sees Akito because of their similarities.  She calls Akito out on her insecurities, and Akito reacts badly, accusing Tohru of being “dirty” and trying to condescend.  Tohru partially rebukes this, not trying to hold herself above Akito as pure and righteous, but instead confessing her own fears of abandonment and change in an attempt to empathize with Akito.

At this part of the story, Tohru is fully coming into the realization that, in order to live her life, she needs to stop clinging to this idea of an “unchanging” relationship with her mom, something that scares her quite a bit. She realizes that, while she saw the flaws in Akito’s “eternity” and tried to destroy it, she had not been as perceptive with herself, clinging to that same notion. Tohru is an incredibly repressed character, especially in regards to emotions she thinks of as “dirty,” and she is showing a remarkable amount of vulnerability in this scene. Another thing to note about Tohru is that she, in her immense repression, will often process her own issues through other people. We see this throughout the story, from her showing grief over her mom by crying for Momiji and his mom to her projecting her fear of losing Kyo onto Kureno and Arisa. So then, it’s quite something to consider that the last Sohma she befriends is the one most emblematic of the issues she keeps locked up tightest? That as she’s speaking to her she’s deciding to move forward from her own fears? In a way, could accepting Akito be a symbol of Tohru accepting what she thinks are the darker parts of herself? Akito is also coming to a realization about moving on, acknowledging that the zodiac curse is coming to an end and that everything she believes is a lie, and she is absolutely distraught about it. But Tohru, in a way that nobody else does, understands Akito, and wants Akito to be her friend. Not out of pity or reverence, but a desire for solidarity. And this is the very reason why Tohru was actually able to get through to Akito. As we see with Kureno before he gets stabbed and Momiji at the beach house and when his curse breaks, it’s not like people haven’t kindly tried to get through to her before.

Of course, the reason it worked for Tohru can also be partially chalked up to the fact that Akito herself has come a long ways in personal realizations to the point that there’s just some things she can’t deny anymore, but that’s not all. Akito tends to react very negatively to what she sees as condescension, she thinks people want to try to pick her apart and see how she ticks just so they can look down on her, so they can see her as lesser. She thinks Tohru is trying to condescend too at first, especially since she perceives Tohru as this holier than thou saint wannabe. Fascinatingly, Akito’s view of Tohru is incredibly similar to that early fandom idea of Tohru as an angelic mary sue, and she hates her for it. She thinks that Tohru is trying to be like this and is seen as such, and that she (Akito) is the only who can see that Tohru is wrong somehow.

But Tohru rejects this notion of a pure her that both the fandom and her early self tried to project, presenting herself as flawed and human and purposefully trying to not put herself on a pedestal above Akito. She makes it very clear that she’s not trying to condescend, she is the same way (well, sorta) and she gets it. Notably, after this point Akito doesn’t accuse her of looking down on her, instead freaking out temporarily because of how much Tohru called her out before venting about her fears to her. And, while, partially due to outside circumstances, it does take Akito a bit longer to accept her offer of friendship, she legitimately manages to get through to her very soon after this point. If Tohru had tried one of her early series mom speeches on Akito, or just tried to blindly accept her without understanding, it would not have worked. Akito would have just written it off or reacted badly and left it there. But because Tohru tried to befriend Akito out of understanding as an equal it actually worked. You can’t separate Akito and Tohru’s parallels and their eventual friendship because one aspect is integral to the other.

A connected aspect of their relationship that I see talked of very little but is actually a pretty strong undercurrent is that of equality and power. To explain this, we have to look at Akito for a bit. Throughout her life, pretty much everyone around Akito has either put her on a pedestal or looked down on her. This is something that not only greatly damaged the way she thinks of herself and others, but has given her an intensely hierarchical view of relationships. We even see this notion clearly take form for her in the black paint scene, where she decides that Yuki, who she’d previously seen as the same as her, has to be lesser or else she will become useless.  From the moment Akito was born she was “God,” an existence above everyone else. Even her own father only seems to give her affection for being God, and when he dies and she takes his place as the head of the family she is just elevated even farther at an extremely young age. The only people (she thinks) she’s close to are the zodiac, and the curse itself puts an inherent power dynamic into that relationship that can only be overcome with its undoing. Akito clings to her power, to her rank in the hierarchy, all the while the very thing she desperately upholds has made her the real outsider. Akito, who does everything in the name of belonging, was always alone from the start. As Tohru points out, as long as she is above the group she cannot be a part of it.

Simultaneously, and almost contradictory to the pedestalization and power dynamic aspect, Akito is extensively coddled and pitied. A lot of the older adults around her treat her almost like a crotchety, spoiled child. A child who is coddled to the point of never being given any reprimand or instruction on just how to behave like a functional human being until things have gone far too far. Then you have cases like Kureno, who seems to still see Akito like a kid, pretty much just coddles her as a job, and only stays because he pities her. This leads to a strange dual sided dynamic in multiple cases, where Akito is seen as someone’s better and has more power but is also being looked down upon in a way too. Akito has never in her life been seen and treated as an equal, so it’s pretty important when it is made clear that Tohru tries to befriend her as an equal. After all this time, Tohru, an outsider that is not under Akito’s control, who can hold her ground in a challenge against her, is finally the one to meet her on the same level. There’s this page that I adore that symbolizes this idea really nicely. It opens on a panel of Akito sitting a distance away from the zodiac who are all having fun together, a motif we’ve already seen a few times, but this time Tohru sits down right next to her.

This page comes at a critical moment, when Tohru is offering her hand in friendship to Tohru, it’s Akito realization of what Tohru is trying to do. Later on, we get Akito narrating what this page was showing, which I think I just need to put in:

We also see a bit of their conversation after they reunite in the hospital later, where Tohru again denies that she is better than Akito. Now, I think both the Tokyopop and Yen Press translations of this scene are a bit weird, the Tokyopop version uses the word “pretty” (confusing) while the Yen Press uses “kind” (don’t think that’s the best word). However one time I saw like a Malaysian english release in the half price books that used “pretty on the inside” and I like that best so I’ll just pretend that’s it.

I think this scene is interesting because it could seem like they’re just talking about morality but that’s not it. This is, once again, Tohru pretty explicitly trying to stop the creation of any sort of hierarchy between her and Akito. It’s not about right or wrong, Tohru know very well that Akito’s done things wrong and actively worked to stop her, it’s about not wanting them to be put on some sort of different rank based on morality and Tohru understanding Akito enough to empathize with the fact that (wrong or no) Akito was really hurt by Tohru and they won’t get anywhere if they don’t acknowledge that. Furthermore, I’ve already talked a bit about it already, but I think the way that Tohru asserts that she gets what Akito’s feeling and thinks she herself is “dirty” during their confrontation is relevant here too. She is, again, presenting herself as someone on the same level who understands Akito and is not being nice out of pity. This then leads to the page I talked about before which is again, Akito realizing this! This is a huge moment for her, someone who has had all of her relationships messed up by inequality and has no idea how to have a normal relationship, who is having a breakdown because she thinks that because of this it’s too late for anyone to love her, to have someone who understands her and wants to meet her on the same level. Even if she tries to deny it and shift blame, at this point Akito has realized that the zodiac bond is not what she thought and that she has been acting horribly. The groundwork is already there for Akito to have a change of heart, especially considering that a lot of her horribleness stems from legitimate extreme ignorance and her obsession with the bond so once she’s snapped out of that… The main thing that’s holding her back past that is that she’s panicking and cannot see a way forward. So then when there’s someone who actually gets where she’s coming from instead of just tolerating her and is offering her the sort of friendship that she’s never gotten to have of course she’d go for it! Tohru Honda has proven Akito wrong in ever way and, in the end, she even proves her wrong on her greatest fear: that she can only be wanted because she’s God. Because of Akito’s specific issues, nothing could have been more powerful for her than someone coming to her as an equal. Again, the piece about why Tohru could get through to her. It just wouldn’t be the same if Tohru didn’t have a reason to want Akito around or if she somehow saw Akito as below her, the very core of their relationship is the destruction of hierarchies. From the beginning Tohru has been trying to destroy the hierarchy of the zodiac, and when it comes down to it she does not take Akito’s spot at the top, but decides to stand beside her and the zodiac instead. Early in the series we see Akito trying to have some power over Tohru through fear, but when the time comes and Akito is pretty much defeated Tohru does not take power as the victor, hoping that Akito joins her instead of being somehow defeated. And at the end of it all this works, and Akito dissolves the zodiac and with it most of her power and her godhood of her own accord. 

Despite their relative lack of page time, Tohru and Akito’s relationship has always been something that I come back to. Sure, a lot of that is just sentiment as they meant a lot to me when I was younger, but I think there’s something there. They work amazingly as protagonist and antagonist, contrasting nicely and working as symbols of both sides of the thematic conflict. There’s a palpable tension to their early interactions that makes you both scared and interested to see what happens when these two inevitably have to go head to head. But then, as the story goes on, it seems more and more like they are a tragedy, so similar yet on different sides of the story, fated to have one of them stuck with an unhappy ending brought on by the other.

But, even as dark as it gets, that wouldn’t really be Fruits Basket, would it? In the end, Tohru and Akito’s similarities win out, not their differences. I think it would have been so easy to just make this a story where the sweet heroine “saves” the villain just because, but that is so blatantly not what’s going on. Tohru simply sees herself in Akito, she’s not trying to somehow fix her and nor should she have to, she just wants to be her friend. And then the two manage to overcome their driving fear of moving on, forging new bonds and inspired by their interaction with the other. It’s not like Tohru somehow fixes Akito’s problems, Akito has to do things herself and in fact independence is a big theme of her endgame arc. Tohru simply offered her friendship, and that was enough. There’s a distinction to be made between how Tohru inspires Akito and Tohru somehow “saving” her, because Akito very much has to learn to save herself in the end after a lifetime of pushing her issues onto others. And, as a side note, all this is sort of why it bugs me when people act like Tohru would be like a mom to Akito. First off, Tohru shouldn’t have to be the mom to everyone. And, kind as she is, Tohru is also not a Kureno, she sees and interacts with Akito in a completely different way and their relationships with Akito are one of the big points were Tohru and Kureno differ. Second off, Akito has spent her life coddled and clinging onto anything that she can hold onto as a resemblance of parental affection to a toxic degree. Part of her arc is that she needs to grow out of this, become more independent, and have more balanced relationships. Akito at this point does not want or need to make a mommy figure out of one of her peers, and doing so may in fact be regressive. Sure, she will definitely need a level of guidance going forward, but it would be more beneficial for her to learn from example and under more of a friendly, balanced context coming from multiple people, not one person holding her hand. For all the reasons I’ve gone over in this entire post, I think it is much more meaningful for Akito to have Tohru as what she was canonically presented as in text: someone who sees her as an equal. The whole point of their relationship is, again, the defiance of hierarchies, something which I think is often sorely overlooked even though it is very openly there in text. And that, in part, is why I think their relationship is so powerful to me. Beyond hero and villain, right or wrong, or any story roles, it’s about two girls finding solidarity and friendship on a very personal, human level. This is Akito for the first time being seen not as this distant, untouchable male deity or some pitiful being, but as a flawed, hurt human girl who is nonetheless capable of change and being loved. This is Tohru coming out of hiding, presenting her flawed, terrified human self to someone she saw as an enemy. Fruits basket is, in part, a story about friendship and defeating systems of power and abuse. Even in a messy third act that muddles its themes at times by weighing character endings too heavily on het romantic love, especially in regards to the women (Hello Rin, Machi, Uo, ect.), Tohru and Akito stand out as a friendship that is given a huge amount of narrative weight. It just feels nice that, in a story that often focused on the power of relationships between women only to ditch all that and focus primarily on their relationships with men, these two girls are one of the driving forces of the endgame. The curse didn’t get broken by romantic love, but by the friendships everyone made along the way, including Tohru and Akito. Tohru has gotten it to this point, and now Akito just needs to bring it to a close and finally end things. At the very beggining, before this all started, all the cat wanted was for the God was to move forward and live as a person among the humans, and, finally, a long time later that wish was granted. The tale of the zodiac gets its happy ending not by a villain being defeated, but by the power of friendship and solidarity between women.

[deceasedanddesist]

unrequited ( lily evans )

this is for @strawberrywafer​‘s 300 writing challenge 

pairing: lily evans x griffyndor!reader

fem! reader ( pronouns are not specified )

warnings: lots of angst, not a happy ending, mentions of homophobia, lots of talk about emotional turmoil and pain.

notes: i love me some angst, especially if its sapphic. i personally have experienced being in love with your straight best friend and I may or may not have cried writing this. enjoy :)

word count: 2.2k

you were in love with your best friend. it was the most gut wrenching form of self sabotage that you could fathom, and the worst part was you couldn’t even be mad at her, or even james potter for that matter.

its not like you couldn’t see the appeal, i mean he was stuck in the same boat as you. almost. if you didn’t see her subtle double takes when he walked into a room or the lingering disappointment in her eyes when he did something ridiculously immature, you probably would have bought the half-hearted glares and demeaning nicknames. if only you hadn’t paid so much attention to her striking emerald eyes as she watched the back of his head at the first feast of seventh year, you probably would have been fooled along with everyone else.

that was when you knew you were royally fucked, because she just didn’t seem into it this year. at first you tricked yourself into thinking it was because she was finally sick of him after all the years of extravagantly expressing his undying love for her, but a few weeks into your final year at hogwarts you knew. you knew it wasn’t because she was tired of him, it was because she was tired of pretending she didn’t love him back.

so no, you weren’t mad at james potter, in all of his arrogant, quidditch all-star glory. and you weren’t mad at lily evans—but who were you kidding, you could never be mad at her. you realized the anger you felt, that burning, self destructive pit in your stomach, was directed at yourself.

how could you let this happen? it had been in fifth year when you realized the feelings you harboured towards your roommate were not something a friend should feel for a friend. you kicked yourself for it then and you do the same thing now, because you always knew the red-head talked about james potter too much for it to just be out of hatred. what was it that you were always telling her, “there’s a thin line between hate and love, lils”, and it felt like you took a stake to the heart when you found out that she began to look at him with something in her eyes that you knew oh-so well. it was the one thing you and potter had in common.

then they were together, it happened faster than you could say quidditch. one minute james potter was professing his love, as per usual, and none of your peers looked twice at the impromptu great hall confessional. well, until people realized lily wasn't yelling and calling him an ‘arrogant toerag’. 

you knew it was coming, and as much as you wanted to squeeze your eyes shut until they’d have to be pried opened by marlene, you forced yourself to watch as she finally said yes to the love of her life. you don't know why you did it, looking back, you would’ve walked out as soon as you came to the realization. maybe you felt you deserved it, after all, your parents aren't very supportive of who you love. maybe your mom’s world-crushing passive aggressive comments, or your dad’s suggestion about sending you away to some church town in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere were finally getting to your head. 

they found out this summer, unbeknownst to all of your friends and peers. you still aren’t quite sure what happened, all you knew was that they found a more than friendly unsent letter to a beautiful red-head, and you certainly didn’t think your life could get any worse.....until now. 

you hadn't realized your head had gone off into space until mary macdonald nudged you back into reality, giving you time to evaluate the situation. 

lily had sat back down and began to furiously blush, while james was getting patted on the back by people from numerous houses, even he himself looked quite shocked she actually agreed to go out with him. 

you told yourself you tried to listen to what lily was telling the group of girls, but in reality you were accumulating strategies in your head on how to slip away unnoticed to go cry somewhere. you didn't want to hear lily talking about where james was going to take her, and you certainly weren't gonna listen to her go on about how hard it was to keep up her resolve all of these years. 

so you left, and when you looked back, she hadn't even glanced your way. 

it didn't even come to a surprise to you that you were easily forgotten, and you hated yourself for it. you hated yourself for ignoring the obvious fact that lily evans and james potter were always meant to be together, and you hated that you would ignore factoring it into the equations you imagined in your head.

you hated being out of control, so you focused on the one thing you could. staying away from her. 

it was completely selfish. you knew it, and so did marlene, mary, and dorcas. but you didn't give them time to convince you, because in your head this was the only option to help you get over her. 

you walked into the dorm after you got confirmation lily was asleep, and you were gone before she woke up. lily didn't have any idea why and you almost felt bad for her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. why? because she's the one that gets a happy ending, and the absence of one friend ( no matter how important you were to her ) isn’t going to fuck that up. 

you were unlucky enough to get the short end of the stick, and it made you want to scream. the pressure of doing good on your n.e.w.t.s so you don't have to spend another suffocating summer with your parents, and now, with all of this unexplained weight on your chest that you have yet to figure out how to get rid of. it was infuriating, and letting it all brew up inside yourself was bound to make a mess later. 

you knew that later would come eventually, but you never knew it would be in the form of james potter. 

the realization came to you as soon as you saw the look on his face as he walked towards you in the hallway outside of the potions classroom you just walked out of. he looked spooked almost, like he felt a severe sense of dread to have this conversation with you. 

“hey.” he dragged it out as the one word left his mouth. yup, definitely dreading this. 

“hi.” you matched his awkwardness, he cringed like he was realizing how stupid he sounded. “you’re here about lily.” 

you saved him the trouble. both of you didn't want to be here having this conversation, and he looked like he was on the verge of a stroke. not the confrontational type, you noted silently. 

“yeah,” he paused and took the time to observe your stance, his brows furrowed almost, like he was wondering why you were so nonchalant about this. “just here to clear up a few things.” 

it was your turn to furrow your brows. clear up a few things? why would lily send james to do her bidding? 

“I don't know what exactly needs to be cleared between us, potter.” you unintentionally spat his name out like it was poison to you. immediately deflating when you saw his face drop, this wasn’t his fault after all. 

“okay, it’s clear that you don't like me, but I don't know what that has to do with lily.” he paused once again before reluctantly continuing, “at first I thought it was because you fancied me-” 

his words were cut off by your laugh, “how heteronormative. no offence james, but you’re really far from my type.” 

his eyes widened, you nodded.

“if lily wants to ‘clear up a few things’ she can come to me herself.” 

you left with the last words, and a bewildered james potter as an added bonus.

it had been a few weeks since that conversation, and you didn’t think lily got the message. well, that was until she somehow bribed mary into telling you she went to sleep early and  managed to clear out the room. you guys always joked that she was the weakest link.

you were dissatisfied with yourself when you found that when you looked at her, all you could think about was how beautiful her eyes were. her red tresses appeared to be lazily thrown up into a bun, and she adorned some gryffindor pyjamas that the school provides you with every year.

you let out a breath you’ve been holding ever since the decision to distance yourself from her. it was like the weight you’ve been carrying was replaced with dread, because now you had to tell her, and you weren’t worried for your feelings, you were worried for hers. one think you knew for sure was that lily evans had an enormous heart, and it would be like passing the weight of your unrequited feelings onto her, and who would want someone they loved to deal with that.

“hi.” you decided to initiate the heavy exchange that was about to occur, you don’t know why you did it.

“we need to talk, y/n”

you just nodded. wanting to hear what she had to say first, you gestured to her meekly.

“i know you and james had a conversation, he told me,” she paused, seemingly collecting herself before she addressed the question that you knew she already knew the answer to. “i’m just a tad confused about the context of your side of it.”

“no you’re not lily.” you whispered it so softly you weren’t even sure she heard you, but the bit of breath she took in out of shock let you know she caught the innuendo.

“i-,” she collected herself once again, “i don’t know what to say, y/n.”

you looked down, because the pitying look she was giving you was going to make you mad if you looked at it any longer. with every utterance of your name, you felt a pang in your chest, the congestion of emotions finally clawing their way out. it was thick and it was coming out of you with the speed of a freight train, you broke the silence first.”

“look, you don’t have to say anything. i know you don’t reciprocate, and i’ve accepted it.” you hoped the one conversation you could never control the outcome of was over, and you did try to leave it at that by walking to your trunk and grabbing your night clothes, but something lily said stopped you.

“why did you keep this from me?” she seemed a bit angry, and the shock of it rolled through you as you processed the tone in which she spoke.

but to her surprise you just let out a wet laugh, wishing she would just let it go and let you sob it out in peace, but before you could even open your mouth to speak she did it for you.

“you just ignored me, like i had no business knowing that you feel this way towards me. it could have been different, you know.” she looked like what she said pained her to do so, and you hated it.

the tears were already flowing freely down your cheeks when you turned back around to face her,

“i was right here lily, by your side all along but you never saw me, did you?” you were full on snot nosed crying now, but you continued anyways.

“i know you’re angry because i’ve been ignoring you, but i just want you to be happy, and that can’t happen if you know i’m in love with you.”

“why-”

“because i’m around you constantly, lily. you’d never forgive yourself for not reciprocating, so we’re better off like this.” she looked like she was gonna disagree, so you added “i know you, and you know it’s true too.”

she took one unconscious step closer to you, to which you stepped back.

“just let me go,” you begged, “it’s better this way, i promise.”

she took one good look at your tear stricken face, “how can you know this is better y/n, look at you.”

you wiped your nose on your sleeve, “i’ve been dealing with this for so long. just let me go, if not for your sake, do it for mine.” she wasn’t going to let up until you looked at her and attempted to once again beg, but it just came out as a silent plea overcome by your fresh tears.

you just looked down, waiting until you heard her footsteps out the door to let your knees give out.

you really hoped all this pain would be better for you in the long run.

[mothandpidgeon]

THE SINS OF THE FATHER - a Molly York story PART 2

(gif by @pajamasecrets)

PROLOGUE - PART 1

MASTERLIST

Characters: Dave York, Molly York (Carol and Alice, too)

Words: 3500

Rating: T

Warnings: character death (canon), loss of a parent, angst, training your daughter to be an assassin?

Summary: After contacting a mysterious acquaintance of her later father's, Molly York learns more about the man. And about his death.

a/n: I'm a little obsessed with this fic right now. I love writing soft!Dave and his daughter. I know this isn't the mean daddy Dave smut we usually love, but I'd love to hear from you if you're enjoying this!

Thanks @purplepascal042 for helping me with this part! Love you, B!

/ / / / /

Dave is exhausted from jet lag, sprawled on the bed, still in his shirt and slacks. The last job took a lot out of him. He needs a shower but his body won’t budge.

“Daddy are you sleeping?” Molly asks from the doorway in a stage whisper.

“What’s going on?”

“Will you help me with my homework?” she asks. She’s clutching a worksheet and a pencil.

“Sure. Come here,” he says and she climbs onto the bed beside him. “What’ve we got?”

“I have to interview a grown up about their job. For Career Day,” she explains.

Dave looks over the page, his tired eyes barely focusing. “Did you ask Mommy to do this?”

“I want you to do it,” Molly insists.

He lets Molly read him each prompt and he answers as simply as possible. She dutifully writes down each answer in scrawling pencil.

“How do you spell ‘investigation?’” she asks.

“Sound it out,” he encourages. He’s so burnt, he’s not sure he can manage to spell it either.

“‘What is your favorite part about your job?’” she reads.

Dave sighs longer than he means to. “Coming home to my family.”

“No, Daddy! It has to be about work!”

The address Capra had given Molly was a boarded up movie theater off the highway about 30 miles outside of DC. Molly told Carol that she was shopping for dorm decor when she’d left the house full of nerves. She’d gotten so good at lying, sometimes she believed her own.

The parking lot was empty, the cracks in its pavement filled in with grass, punctuated by street lights every few yards. Molly had expected to meet at a coffee shop or a restaurant, not some out of the way place. She was sitting on the trunk of her car, her leg bouncing, when a black BMW pulled up. The woman driving it looked to be in her late 40s, her hair pulled back neatly. When she stepped out of her car, she pulled her sunglasses down her nose and eyed Molly up and down.

“How old are you now? 20?”

“18,” Molly told her.

“You’re the older one?”

“Yeah,” Molly said.

Capra approached her and she hopped down from the bumper.

“Didn’t your dad ever teach you not to talk to strangers?” she asked.

Molly hesitated. She had her pepper spray in her back pocket and she was much younger, probably quicker than this woman. But Dad wouldn’t give her Capra’s number if he didn’t trust her. Still, Molly decided to lean against her car and keep her distance.

“You know a lot about me for a stranger,” Molly replied.

Capra grinned. She nodded her head back and said, “Walk with me.”

Molly paced the pavement with her, glancing at the woman beside her. She was slim with sharp features, whispers of frown lines in her face. Capra offered Molly a cigarette which she declined.

“Is Capra your first name?”

“It’s what my friends call me,” she replied.

There was a darkness in her tone that made Molly edgy.

“Did you work with my dad at the agency?” Molly asked.

That would explain some things. But Capra laughed.

“No.” Capra observed Molly and then her lip twitched up into a wistful smile. “Jeez I bet everybody tells you you look just like him.”

Molly’s stomach churned.

“Were you and my dad-”

“No,” Capra said. “God no. Your dad was...a complicated guy but not when it came to his family.”

Molly nodded, not sure if she felt relieved or if that just gave her more questions.

“So how did you know each other?” She asked.

“It’s a long story,” Capra said, scratching her forehead. “We did some freelance work together.”

Capra made some small talk, asking Molly where she was headed for college, what she’d be studying. Molly had so many questions of her own she could only manage short answers. Finally, she had to ask the question that had been nagging at her the loudest.

“Do you know what happened to my dad? How he died?” She’d stopped walking.

“I know the same as you,” Capra said.

“Which is?” Molly asked. She wasn’t going to accept such a vague answer.

Capra gave a wry smile. She flicked her cigarette butt to the ground and twisted it into the pavement under her shoe. Molly’s heart sped up. She’d caught Capra in a lie.

“You’re a clever one,” she said.

“It wasn’t an accident, was it?” Molly asked. She searched Capra’s face for an answer. “Please.”

“I wasn’t there,” she replied.

“But you know. Please. I need to know.”

Molly felt like she was holding her breath. Capra looked away, then back at Molly.

“You don’t want to know,” Capra said.

“I do,” Molly said. She balled her hands into fists so she didn’t shake Capra by her shoulders.

“He wouldn’t want you to know.”

“How do you know that?” Molly spat. “What the hell do you know about him? I’ve never even heard of you. You don’t know.”

“Trust me, there’s plenty about your father you didn’t know,” Capra snapped back.

Molly was so frustrated she wanted to cry. Instead she let out a growl and turned back towards her car.

“Fuck this!” She stomped away.

She’d crossed half of the parking lot when she heard Capra call after her. Molly squared her shoulders, tried to compose herself, and turned around to glare at the woman. Capra was clutching the bridge of her nose, her eyes shut. Finally she dropped her hand with an exasperated sigh and pulled out another cigarette. Capra lit it as she closed the distance between them, blowing smoke out of her mouth and shaking her head. She held the cigarette out to Molly.

“You’re going to want one of these. And you’re going to need to sit down for this.”

Dave parks the car in the driveway. Molly is sitting in the passenger seat, still grinning from her first experience at the shooting range.

“Now remember,” Dave says before he opens the door, “this is our secret. So if Mom asks where we were, just tell her our cover story.”

She nods eagerly but then her lips twist into a thoughtful frown.

“It’s lying,” she says.

Dave feels guilty for a moment. Deceit is practically second nature for him but what kind of father teaches his daughter to be dishonest?

“But it’s a white lie,” she justifies to herself. “Right?”

Dave kisses the crown of her head.

“It’s alright, baby. Everybody has secrets.”

Molly felt dizzy. The story Capra told her made her feel like she’d gone from a tilt-a-whirl into a funhouse. Everything was distorted and she was upside down. Already, she was replaying her memories of Dad with this new context tinging them like a dark filter.

Dad kissing her on the forehead before bed. Hoisting her onto his shoulders on the 4th of July. Singing along to “Baba O’Riley” and drumming on the steering wheel. Dad killing people. Earning blood money. Dying by someone else’s hand.

“It’s a lot,” Capra said. They were sitting in Molly’s parked car, the windows rolled down, the sound of the highway traffic washing through like white noise. “But he did it for you.”

Molly’s eyes flicked to her. She hadn't asked for anybody to die.

“He was trying to take care of his family,” Capra clarified.

She let Molly sit in silence for a while as she sorted out what she’d just heard. Molly felt like she was grieving him all over again. Except this time she mourned the father she knew.

“My mom-"

“She never knew,” Capra said.

Molly nodded weakly.

“It was a secret because he loved you.”

Molly felt a tear slip from her eye. She didn’t want to feel hurt. She didn’t like feeling deceived. She wiped her face and set her jaw.

“What happened to Mac?” she asked.

She remembered meeting the man who had killed her father. Everything that had happened just before he died was so clear in her memory. She could still see Mac’s face, his friendly smile.

He’d seemed like such a nice guy. She remembered asking him a load of questions as he rode with them to school and he’d laughed and told Carol what a bright girl she was.

It sickened her to know he’d been right there. So close. And she was so small and clueless. Had Dad known what was coming?

“He lives up in New England,” Capra said. “Retired.”

Molly turned to Capra, anger burning in her chest.

“He’s still alive?” she asked.

“Afraid so,” Capra said.

Molly looked back out the windshield, took a deep breath. Retired. Dad would never get to retire. Go golfing or build model cars or whatever old men did.

“And you do...what my dad did?” she asked.

Capra didn’t confirm or deny it.

“You can’t discuss this. With anyone,” she informed her.

Molly nodded again. She wouldn’t dream of telling Carol this. She would protect her from the truth just like dad had.

“I’m sorry about this,” Capra said before they parted ways. “You’ve got my number. Give me a call if you ever need anything.”

As Molly drove home, thoughts solidified in her mind.

Dad was a killer. But he’d been a killer before, in the Marines. He’d still loved her. He went to her karate matches and read her bedtime stories. She might have lived her whole life without ever finding out what Dave York really was.

If he hadn’t died.

He could have taught her how to drive. Taken photos before senior prom. Visited colleges with her.

He would have danced with her at her wedding. Helped her fix up her first home. Held her future children in his arms.

If he hadn’t been murdered.

And what about mom? She wouldn’t have worried about calling plumbers and taking her car to the mechanic. Run herself ragged getting Alice to dance class and Molly to archery competitions. She wouldn't have had to sleep alone every night.

If it hadn’t been for Robert McCall.

Molly could absolve her father’s sins. But Mac she would never forgive.

“Young lady, open this door right now,” Dave barks.

“You told me to go to my room! I’m in my room!” Molly snaps through her bedroom door.

She’s given Carol lip all morning and he’s had enough of the attitude. Every day, his sweet little girl is fading more and more into a stubborn teenager.

“You do not slam doors in this house.”

“Leave me alone!” Molly yells. “I hate you!”

Dave knows that she’s angry and she’s got a bad temper. That these outbursts are the first signs of puberty rearing its ugly head. But, still, her words punch him right in the gut.

“If that’s how you’re going to speak to your father, then you’re grounded,” he manages.

“Good!”

Molly had been reserved ever since Dave’s death but, after meeting Capra, she felt her melancholy harden into bitterness. She went through college. She didn’t make a lot of friends or date many people. She studied, she practiced her marksmanship, she trained.

As soon as Molly turned 18, she was back at the gun range. It had been a long time since Dad had taken her for target practice but she was pleasantly surprised by her grouping. She’d had a good teacher.

She liked everything about shooting. Not just because it had been a secret she shared with her father. She liked the ritual– loading the magazine, carefully picking up the gun. She liked the focus– taking a deep breath and looking down the barrel. She liked the power.

Mac’s grin stayed fixed in her mind. She thought about it when she pulled herself from bed at five in the morning to do push ups. She pictured it when she worked herself into a sweat at the gym’s punching bag. She imagined it when she put holes through the head of the target at the shooting range.

She didn’t think she’d have the chance to do that in real life. But she dreamed about it almost every night.

Molly had always stayed close to home but she visited less and less. Alice started college in New York so Carol had an empty nest. Molly could hardly bring herself to visit her mother anymore.

Molly had always been good at keeping secrets but this one was the most difficult. Every time she saw Carol, Molly imagined how devastated she would be if she knew the truth. It had become too painful pretending and so Molly simply avoided most situations where she would have to.

Capra stayed in touch, calling every so often to check in. It was clear to Molly that she felt responsible for this angst but there was no one else to talk to about it.

Some people were driven by ambition or lust or creativity. During college, it felt like Molly ran on anger. It helped her concentrate, to work hard. She graduated at the top of her class and had no trouble landing a job that paid well.

Adulthood was different.

Dave had been wise enough to set up trusts for the girls so Molly hadn’t racked up student debt. But now she had rent and bills and car insurance. She couldn’t stuff herself with fries from the dining hall and call that a meal. She had to work long hours for a demanding boss. She had to take care of herself. She had to go through the monotony of life.

When it came down to it, she just didn’t have the energy to be mad anymore.

Molly still held a flame inside. Mainly, she kicked herself for not getting to the gym more often. She hated that she was moving on. She had dulled as she got older, as she followed the news every day and saw that the world was a shitty place where justice was scarce.

Molly was in her childhood bedroom, going through layers of old school papers, polaroids from her friends’ bat mitzvahs, and certificates from karate tournaments like an archeological dig.

Carol was finally selling the family home. Downsizing. The girls were there to help clean things out, decide what should go to the Salvation Army and what would be going home with them.

It pained Molly to think about the house with another family living inside it. Even now in her late twenties, she still walked in the door and expected Dad to come around the corner from the kitchen, to say, “Hey, kiddo!” the way he used to. Once the house was sold, she would never experience that sensation again.

It was strange, Molly thought, how you could live somewhere for all of your life and then, one day, you’re locked out forever.

Carol was moving to a two bedroom condo closer to the city so she couldn’t take all of this junk with her. Molly packed a bankers box with some trophies and a few of her favorite books and brought it down to the kitchen.

Alice was leaned against the island, lazily sorting through cookbooks. Although the day called for packing boxes and hauling trash bags, she was dressed to the nines. Molly wondered if her sister owned casual clothes anymore. Alice had gotten a job at a fashion magazine and, although it seemed like she was low in the pecking order, she acted as though she was Anna Wintour herself.

“That’s all you’re taking?” Carol asked, eyeing the box.

Molly shrugged. She already had already taken the things that were most precious to her long ago.

“You know, Mom, if you don’t want to move, I can help you with the mortgage,” Molly said.

Molly had been saving up to buy a place of her own but she would happily give that up for her mother. Nowhere would ever feel like home the way this house did.

“It’s time,” Carol said. “I don’t need this much house to myself.”

Mom didn’t look her age but the bags under her eyes had grown more defined. She’d stopped coloring the streak of grey hair that had come in at her temple.

“It’s a good idea,” Alice jumped in. “Mom needs to get out there again. She hasn’t met any guys in the suburbs.”

The idea of Mom dating always made Molly bristle. She didn’t want Carol to be lonely but couldn’t picture her with a man who wasn’t Dad. The same way she couldn’t see her living in a different house.

“I’m going to work on the study,” Molly said and retreated to the home office.

This had been Dad’s room and, even though it had accumulated a mess of things over the years— old workout tapes, discarded hobbies, books about tidying— it still felt like his sanctuary. Molly picked through a shelf and found Dad’s high school yearbook. She hoped Mom wouldn’t mind if she took that home with her. She liked pictures of her father in his youth, skinny and bright eyed with scruffy hair.

Molly sat on the floor in front of the built-ins and fished out a few baskets and shoe boxes from the cabinets. The first one contained family photos. Vacation in the Bahamas, Alice’s 4th birthday party, Molly dressed as a ninja for Halloween. She went through each one with great ceremony. Molly already had a bunch of photos of her and Dad so she tucked these back in their box and put them in the ‘keep’ pile.

The next box was filled with cards. Sympathy cards. Molly sighed as she went into them. One from Carol’s coworkers with a rose on the front. Sending you comfort. A small card that looked like it had come with a floral arrangement from cousin John. He’ll be missed.

There was a card with a painting of a serene beach scene. With deepest sympathy. Molly opened it and read the short message.

So sorry for your loss. It feels like we’ve lost one of the family. Send my love to the girls. - Mac

The cold rage that had burnt out reignited in Molly’s stomach, her entire body so tight she almost shook. She could feel tears sting in her eyes.

That motherfucker. That fucking asshole had the audacity to send a sympathy card. To send his love. That piece of fucking shit. Molly almost crumpled the card in her hands, as if she could wring his neck through it, but just then Alice wandered in. Molly dropped the card into her lap.

“What are these?” her sister asked, crouching down and grabbing a photo. “Aw! You looked so cute!”

Molly swallowed hard and tried to slow her heart rate as Alice sifted through the pictures.

“Christ, why does Mom still have these?” Alice complained, picking up one of the sympathy cards.

“They’re for Dad,” Molly said.

“It’s not like he got to read them,” Alice replied.

She tossed it back onto the floor.

“Why are you always such a bitch about Dad?” Molly asked, the animosity she’d discovered in Mac’s card spilling out of her.

“Sorry I don’t worship him.” Alice rolled her eyes. “It’s not like he was ever around. And when he was, he spent all of his time with you.”

Alice crossed her arms and looked away self-consciously. Molly felt a jab in her heart. She knew Dad loved Alice. He’d done awful things so that she could take dance lessons and go off to a good school where she could study whatever she liked. Things that eventually got him killed. But Molly couldn’t tell her sister any of that so she just stared at Alice with her mouth half open.

“Girls, when you’re finished up there, lunch is ready!” Mom called from the kitchen.

“Call me a bitch…” Alice grumbled as she left the room.

Molly pushed the cards into the ‘Trash’ pile.

“Ow! Daddy! Molly hit me!” Alice whines.

“You hit me first!” Molly growls.

Dave glances at them in the rear view mirror.

“Is that true?” he asks.

“No!” Alice says.

He knows she’s lying. Molly’s sitting there with her arms crossed as Alice clutches her elbow dramatically, lips set in a pout.

He knows what he’s supposed to say. Some bullshit about being the bigger person, two wrongs don’t make a right. And if Carol was in the car maybe he would. But the world doesn’t work like that.

“If you hit somebody,” he warns, “don’t be surprised if they hit you back.”

Molly took Mac’s card with her. It was sitting on her passenger seat when she pulled away, Carol standing on the lawn, waving. Send my love to the girls. Every time she thought about it, she got so pissed off she wanted to puke.

She couldn’t even wait to get home before she was dialing Capra, one hand gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles ached.

“What’s up, kid?” Capra asked.

“I need to find Mac.”

/ / / / / part three soon!

@pascalslittlebrat @purplepascal042 @starlightmornings @mouthymandalorian @danniburgh @originallaura @tuskens-mando @221bshrlocked @wyn-dixie @goddessinwolfskin @cheekygeek05 @fangirl-316 @fairytale07 @rosiefridayrogersunday @a-skov @skulliebythesea @oceanablue @rebel-soldat @stevie75 @evyiione @buckwildbarnes @likes-good-reblogs-even-better @silverwolf319 @killermonkeys45 @velia27 @anxiousandboujee @amneris21 @green-socks @pedro4ever @pedrocentric @kesskirata

[platypuskenny]

Can I get more f that Kenny’s physiology with his alter egos? I’m rlly interested in that

(assuming this means psychology, as a follow up to this post)

i’ve put it off cuz i’ve been busy with other stuff but i‘m really glad i got this ask cuz i love kenny and I love thinking about them in the context of their two alter egos!

CW: discussion of child abuse and neglect, including inexplicit discussion of child sexuality. also a lot of discussion of The Whole Kenny Death Thing. also spoilers for the stick of truth if you haven’t played it!

kenny’s been treated a lot more seriously in recent seasons, with a shift in character to be a lot more mature as well, and it’s a development that makes a lot of sense in the context of “the characters have undergone A Lot and it’s really shaped their personalities because they’re at a stage when their brain is still very soft and malleable and susceptible to trauma.”

the addition of karen in “the poor kid” seems to have shaken up the depiction of the mccormicks a lot. in earlier seasons, kenny was more passive about his home situation, or at least went out of his way to ignore them, (like in “best friends forever” when he plays on his PSP and leaves the house while his parents fight). there are early scenes where he does have some responsibility to his family (i.e. trying to win a can of food for them in “starvin marvin”) but usually he’s just depicted as a kid trying to live through a tough situation. though his “willing to do anything for money even if it’s deeply upsetting, depraved, or outright deadly” character trait from “fat camp” kind of tracks with this understanding that he prioritizes financial security over his personal well-being. 

however, ever since karen was added to the show, kenny’s been depicted as a much more responsible and often even tragic figure. his parents are too caught up in their own shit to address their children’s emotional needs, and kevin sadly gets caught up in their violence as well in “the poor kid” (he’s also vaguely implied to be developmentally disabled in the few scenes he speaks up but that’s mostly speculation). because of this, kenny ends up being karen’s main caretaker - holding her close when she’s distressed at losing her parents, buying her a doll, etc. 

kenny’s situation is a textbook example of parentification. he ends up taking care of karen, at least emotionally, because his parents and brother are unable to do so. he also becomes the breadwinner in “the city part of town” as soon as he gets the chance. this is a really unhealthy scenario that a lot of children in poverty, especially older siblings, see themselves in. it can result in the child not knowing their true place in a family that takes them for granted, and thus not considering their own needs and/or feeling shame if they need help because they’re so used to putting everybody before them. i think this tracks with kenny being “the quiet one” and rarely asking for anything. 

that’s not even getting into the constant death and the fact he spent so much of his life not even understanding why he was doomed to constantly die in horrible painful ways, and for nobody else to remember that he even died to begin with. (kind of symbolic of the neglected child, huh?) 

this brings us to mysterion and princess kenny. in both the superhero game and the fantasy game, you’ll notice kenny is the one who tends to get the most involved, with the only exception being possibly cartman, who could be the topic of a whole other essay on identity issues. mysterion is the one superhero with a real power who exists outside of their superhero game (besides the kewn, whose superhero persona is entirely self-motivated anyway), and princess kenny gets so defensive of her identity that she betrays her friends in both the trilogy and the game. kenny also talks about lady mccormick in the third person in the first black friday episode, and i don’t know if any other characters speak about their personas in that way. so kenny intentionally places more distance between his personas and himself than the other kids do with their personas. 

therefore, i see mysterion and princess kenny as how kenny copes with his deeply repressed psychological issues. it’s a way to compartmentalize his feelings towards his constant suffering and the burden his family inadvertently placed on him by developing these two identities. one embraces his role as caretaker to the degree of becoming a superhero, and the other rejects it in favor of being entirely doted upon. (some people have read the prominence of roles as signs of a dissociative disorder, and i can see that with this context, but i don’t know if it’s really a perfect fit for any specific disorder, especially when there’s little information on kenny’s consciousness when it comes to these personas.)

mysterion is more obviously a tool for kenny to express his discontent with his town. in his first appearance, he states, “i could no longer sit by and watch as my city became a cesspool of crime,” which tracks with his earlier characterization as reluctantly accepting his family’s poverty despite constantly suffering. (plus i’m pretty sure several of kenny’s deaths were the result of crimes.) he refuses to be unmasked because he “would stop being a symbol,” and only does so in order to quell the unrest that his mystery has provoked. that "symbol" wording suggests that mysterion is an extreme version of kenny's self-sacrificing lifestyle to the point where he defines himself as a symbol of justice and hope, not a person. kenny himself is also pretty quiet and secretive, but more because nobody cares about him and he’s kind of afraid of getting killed any second. mysterion’s secret persona is something bold, powerful, and masculine. he is physically adept in a way we don’t see kenny behave, and much more reasonable and cautious about what’s best for him and humanity. (a good visual of this to contrast with kenny is the “mysterion re-rising” animation in the fractured but whole, where he consciously rejects the chance to go to the heaven full of naked women that kenny loves because he has to return to battle.)

mysterion is also a way for kenny to reclaim his "curse” and use it for good. as mysterion, he uses death (albeit reluctantly) to get out of tough situations and save his friends. in video games like fractured but whole and phone destroyer, mysterion’s ability to exist as a ghost and revive himself is a gameplay mechanic. this self-sacrificial personality trait has shown up in earlier seasons, and he kills himself for the good of the community/world/etc in “cartman’s mom is still a dirty slut,” the movie, and “jewbilee.” but he’s not nearly as interested in world issues unless he’s under pressure to care. (for example: he does join the workers’ strike in “bike parade,” but he’s not very passionate about it and doesn’t even care about the issue until his dad takes him to a union meeting.) kenny’s good with solving short-term issues while mysterion worries about the deeper, long-term problems with the town. 

this brings us to mysterion and the mccormicks. when we see mysterion’s interactions with karen, we see how mysterion represents kenny’s responsibilities towards her. mysterion is able to offer karen elaborate, heartfelt emotional support, and guarantee that he’ll always be there for her. he also beats up a girl who bullies her and threatens anybody else who thinks about hurting her - more on that aggressive instinct down below. while mysterion’s identity is known to his friends and the rest of the town, it’s not known to karen, who sees him as a guardian angel. presumably, this is so mysterion can remain a symbol of hope to her, just like he is to the town, and so karen feels like there’s people in the world who care about her besides her brother. however, this does backfire in the fractured but whole DLC where she laments how her brother doesn’t seem to spend time with her, which embarrasses mysterion as he promises to tell him to be there for her more often. this implies that kenny gets so wrapped up in being mysterion that he forgets that he has a duty to karen as kenny as well, further indicating that mysterion is a way to cope with the tragic responsibility of caring for a sibling not much younger than he is.

during the superhero trilogy, kenny also uses mysterion to question his parents about their cult meetings, something that shook him so badly when he learned about it that he broke character. mysterion also told his parents to be nicer to the kids, not beat each other up, pay their kids allowances, and not smoke. it seems that mysterion is able to approach kenny’s parents about serious issues while kenny himself mostly stays out of their business - possibly out of fear? (kenny’s more confrontational in later seasons, though - flipping off his dad in “bike parade,” for example.)

on a similar note, mysterion is way more openly angry and violent than kenny is, especially when it comes to the death curse, which he openly complains about in a way kenny himself never did. compare kenny complaining about stan ignoring his deaths in “cherokee hair tampons,” which only gets further ignored, and mysterion complaining about it in graphic detail in “coon vs coon and friends,” even killing himself in front of his friends, and understandably scaring the shit out of them. mysterion also gets really protective of karen, violently so, as seen with the girl he beats up in “the poor kid” and his distrust when the vampires befriend her in the “from dusk til casa bonita” DLC. such a mysterion is way more passionate and loud about justice and direct action while kenny is more resigned, and most of his good deeds are unknown to the public. if kenny has embraced this caretaker role, it makes sense that he vents his repressed anger through mysterion, especially if you take it in the context of dissociation - kenny can’t handle dwelling on his shitty life all the time, so mysterion holds that anger and finds a way to cope with it by trying to fix everything around them, including kenny’s home life. 

princess kenny is very opposite mysterion in many ways. most obviously, she’s a girl. kenny’s relationship with gender is something i think about a lot in light of PK. “tweek vs craig” depicted him as the only boy in home ec, and he was thrilled because it was the safe alternative to the deadly shop class. i think that, regardless of your headcanon for kenny’s gender (i personally see them as feminine nonbinary - i’m mostly using “he” pronouns in this essay strictly for recognition’s sake and because i’m mostly talking about the show’s depiction of kenny), he sees femininity as safe and comforting, but nevertheless very powerful. (remember that his mother, while not super feminine, is a very outspoken and aggressive woman who calls stuart out on his shit constantly.) and what’s a better combination of femininity and power than a magical girl? 

also one thing i want to note real quick is that karen still refers to kenny as her sister in the stick of truth despite not being super involved in their game which i personally choose to read as Trans Rights Subtext

this is how we get lady mccormick / princess kenny, who is largely a passive character during the black friday trilogy, sitting upon her throne and cutely commenting on the surroundings while stan translates for her. then when sony takes her in, she becomes the star of her own show, a magical japanese princess who doesn’t take shit from cartman or his army and gets whatever she wants because she’s a cute little girl and now she gets to be protected and doted upon! also she speaks japanese and is not muffled in the slightest despite wearing her parka....symbolism? and really interestingly is that when she supposedly dies, she brushes herself off and immediately revives, declaring that she’s okay. in kenny’s feminine fantasy, she doesn’t suffer when she dies, and revives without any mess at all. princess kenny is always gonna be okay!

PK is also very flirty and overly sexual. it’s no secret that kenny is very interested in and knowledgeable of sex. he also absolutely worships women’s bodies, as seen with his views of heaven and that whole plot of “major boobage.” i don’t even read this as lust, because he’s ten, but sheer fascination with sex. maybe it plays into that whole “growing up too fast” concept where he tries to indulge in the “fun” parts of adulthood to make up for the exhaustion of caregiving, but this has been a thing since before kenny was depicted as a real caregiver so IDK. 

anyway, i think PK is also a way for kenny to experiment with flirting and sex, particularly with other boys. she uses her coyness and, in the games, her bare chest to entice boys. her cuteness also attracts grown men in “titties and dragons” which goes largely unremarked upon, which is a bit uncomfortable but still works with the idea that she’s the most “lovable” form of kenny. she also apparently thinks the new kid is “cute.” iit’s really funny to me how kenny is depicted as interested in strictly girls while princess kenny only focuses on boys, which could support the idea that PK is a separate entity from kenny, or that kenny just needs to figure himself out. either way, i imagine kenny finds some thrill in getting men to pay attention to them when their male friends often treat her as superfluous, and even then it often involves objectifying herself (this also tracks with their behavior in “fat camp”). it’s kind of sad if you think about it.

in the climax of the stick of truth, princess kenny has her own in-depth backstory, where she was an orc/elf rejected by both the elves and humans. i think this reflects kenny’s feeling of being “othered” as non-human (since this game chronologically comes after the superhero trilogy) and just generally not feeling welcome among their friends unless they need her. there may also be some parallels between her friends denying her the right to be a princess and kenny’s friends refusing to believe in his immortality. when she rebels against her friends choosing the stick over friendship, it’s another way for kenny to cope with their mixed-to-negative feelings about their friends. so while PK is a figure to be doted on, she’s still probably more gutsy than the kenny we usually know. 

however, PK is not entirely selfish or apathetic about the world around her. in the opening of “a song of ass and fire,” her inner monologue explains her choice to deflect to the PS4 side as the side she believes “is best for all.” she also laments that everybody, including her parents, will be fighting on black friday. it seems that PK dreads the mere idea of war, which contradicts mysterion’s tendency to use violence as a means to protect others. PK still uses her adorableness to help her team, and only asks that they accept her, which really isn’t much. it’s just when she, you know, becomes a nazi zombie and puts the world in danger because she’s so pissed about not being accepted for who she is. 

in my original post, i used the freudian personality theory to explain these three personas, which i regret because i fucking hate freud and he’s heavily responsible for modern consumerism and planned obsolescence. but the basic concepts of the id, ego, and superego do kind of illustrate what i’m getting at with these guys. i assigned princess kenny as the id, because she’s more about self-gratification and getting what she thinks she deserves as well as a tendency towards sexual gratification, and mysterion as the superego (hehe get it super) because of his strong inclination towards morality. however, this isn’t that black-and-white, as princess kenny has some moral considerations and mysterion has violent impulses (the “aggressive instinct”) that are more easily attributed to the id. nevertheless, it seems that kenny is still the balance between these exaggerated personas, and when he expresses attitudes similar to theirs, they are far more downplayed due to the necessities of his situation as a caretaker and an underappreciated friend. kind of makes you wonder if/how the attitudes of mysterion and princess kenny will manifest in him when he’s older.

[toomanyfandoms02]

Requests!

I'm very much open to requests right now! I'm writing for Peter Parker / Tom Holland at the moment. And since I just got a little influx of followers here's my old dialogue prompt list so you can request! You can do so in the comments or my ask box. You can request as many as you want at once :)

1. "I told you not to read that."

2. "Sir, this is for children only."

3. "Are you kidding me? We're not 'fine'!"

4. "Whatever you're going to ask, the answer is no!"

5. "Hey... what's wrong with your face?"

6. "You look a lot different from your profile picture."

7. "Are you going to keep walking by my house, or are you going to come in?"

8. "Dude, it's three in the morning."

9. "I can't believe I use to think he was attractive."

10. "Actually, you *are* speaking to the manager."

11. "This isn't going to be a typical best man's speech."

12. "According to this, you owe them eighty thousand dollars."

13. "That's the worst reason I've ever heard to have a baby."

14. "I didn't even recognize you!"

15. "You're Satan." Costume party

16. "I need a place to stay."

17. "It's six o'clock in the morning, you're not having vodka."

18. "Safety first. What are you? FIVE?"

19. "This is girl talk, so leave."

20. "You're bleeding all over my carpet."

21. "Just smile, I really need to see you smile right now."

22. "Hold still."

23. "You're not interested, are you?"

24. "Oh honey, I'd never be jealous of you."

25. "I'm telling you, I'm haunted."

26. "Touch her again and I'll break your wrist."

27. "Don't look behind you, but that guy is checking you out."

28. "I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend."

29. "Quick! Kiss me!"

30. "Just shut up and kiss me."

31. Ihate high school reunions."

32. "I think I picked up your coffee by mistake."

33. "I've never felt this way before... and it scares the shit out of me."

34. "Wait a second, are you jealous?"

35. "This is by far the stupidest plan you've ever had. Of course I'm in."

36. "You never told me you had a fucking twin."

37. "Am I suppose to be scared of you?" Skeleton dick costume

38. "You're hiding something from me." Ethan proposes

39. "A wedding?"

40. "Where would someone hide in a town like this?"

41. "H-how long have you been standing there?"

42. "Is this skirt suppose to be this short?"

43. "Oh fuck off."

44. "When did you take that?"

45. "I hid it."

46. "Stop trying to look cool in paparazzi pictures, you look like a dumbass."

47. "Can you stop laughing?"

48. "You look like a reptile from this angle."

49. "You have a dirty mind."

50. "You guys are lame."

51. "I don't know. Resurrection maybe?"

52. "This is a safe space." "What the hell are you talking about?" "SAFE SPACE!"

53. "Just stab him."

54. "I'm in dire need of assistance."

55. "I'm gonna die in an elevator full of idiots."

56. "Shoot me."

57. "I feel like you know."

58. "You're making me dizzy."

59. "I don't want any excuses, they must have the hottest date ever."

60. "Are you with him because it's easy?"

61. "Dibs!"

62. "If we die, I'm going to kill you."

63. "Do you think you could just go *one* day without pissing me off?"

64. "Your hands are really soft."

65. "We've become the clingy newlyweds you've always complained about."

66. "Pregnant?"

67. "We are SO much cuter than them."

68. "Wanna go for a drive?"

69. "Is there a reason you're blushing like that?"

70. "Sleep over? Please?"

71. "Are we on a date right now?"

72. "Am I your lockscreen?" "You weren't suppose to see that."

73. "Well I think you're beautiful."

74. "Your feet are so cold!"

75. "You come here often?" "Well I work here, so I'll have to say yes."

76. "You met me yesterday though?" "Yes, and I would die for you in one second. Next question."

77. "I can't stop smiling."

78. "Did you see it?"

79. "Don't leave me alone."

80. "Have you ever kissed anyone before?"

81. "You didn't tell me your friend was cute! Now what am I gonna do?"

82. "How can you drink that stuff?"

83. "Stop apologizing for other people! You aren't the shitty one!"

84. "I just wanna be swept off my feet. Is that so much to ask?"

85. "Oh, my ankle! It must be broken!" *wink wink*

86. "These heels are peeling off my **skin**. But yes, keep complaing about your tie you whine ass."

87. "I don't want to ruin your party."

88. "Could you just come get me?"

89. "Now I have to start counting all over again!"

90. "Do you talk to your mother with that mouth?"

91. "You are very endearing while you are half-asleep."

92. "But I want to hear you sing!"

93. "No- Mom- don't tell him I said that. Wait!"

94. "And you wonder why you are still single."

95. "Somebodys cranky." "Somebody needs to shut up."

96. "She's hot. But she's evil."

97. "Pinky promise!"

98. "I'd rather jump out that window. But thanks."

99. "Hello, sunshine."

100. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

BONUS:

Prompts based on things my best friend has said (changed a little bit for context)

1. Man, I hope this ice melts soon

2. Holy SHIT the Disney World parking lot is packed.

3. Those tree lights are burning my retinas

4. "These are fun to work with." "Not to eat." "No!"

5. "I mean, I could hit a kid with a car."

6. "You up? I need to call you! It's not bad it's just kinda funny!"

7. "Wow I can't imagine being that rich! How old are the kids, maybe I can date one!"