#i'd still be living with my parents but they said they'd be fine with that if i'm working there or somewhere else in town

[starswallowingsea]

well. applied for a job today

[utilitycaster]

started to go on a tangent in the previous post but something I wish we could have seen in Campaign 3 in much more detail is the stories of parental abandonment and the way people mythologize those absences, because it's a throughline for Imogen, Fearne, and Ashton and to an extent Chetney. I think Fearne's is the most realized by far; she realizes that her parents were manipulated, but also that her ideas of them were nostalgia, and she develops a closer relationship over the series but it's still very marked by distance that would not have been there, had she been raised by them. Ashton's is rather frustrating, in that their response immediately post Shardgate was incredible: they realized they had been hoping, despite all everyone had said and every sign to the contrary, that their parents were visionaries and something just went wrong, but no, their parents did a cult ritual with a child present because they thought they were destined for greatness, and it went to shit, and had it not and had he stayed there he would have become a cruel person. It's frustrating because that realization seemed to utterly vanish a few days later in-game but the initial exploration was excellent.

And then there's Imogen and Liliana, and I think what gets me is that sure, Relvin lying was not a great choice on his behalf despite there being no ill intent behind it, and indeed had he told the truth, that Liliana left when Imogen was a baby and never sent a single litter for over a quarter century, I think the story would be very different (and, in my mind, better). But Liliana was unambiguously unhelpful and antagonistic, consistently, until Imogen managed to sway her on Ruidus based on a lie (that she didn't know about the assassination attempt) (I do not blame Imogen for lying about this, incidentally, this is about Liliana ONLY becoming helpful when her daughter withheld the truth from her for her (Imogen's) own safety). And it's just...I think a lot of fantasy narratives go too far in the other direction, of "fuck them, found family only, no contact immediately" but Liliana didn't do jack fucking shit for Imogen for years and months, and at what point do you give up on the myth? Again, why does Imogen care so much about this woman? Zathuda is a fucking horrible asshole, and I like the Gentleman but he's certainly not a good person, and somehow both of them managed to realize that given that they'd been absent for their children's entire lives they are parents in a biological sense and little more.

That doesn't even mean it's bad for Imogen to make the choices she does; it's just, I'd like to have an understanding of what is making her say "ok, absolute jack shit in 28 years plus untold harm to the world at large is fine because of two or three things in the past few days", and I've never felt like we've gotten anything but "but she's her mother." And two other characters in this campaign (and many in past campaigns) have at least for a while explored why that's not enough.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I said I have OCD when I don't?

I (20X) don't have OCD. I do, however, have some of the symptoms, which is probably a comorbidity thing (ADHD diagnosis). The symptoms that are relevant here line up with contamination OCD.

I can be particular about "clean" things and "safe" spaces. I still live with my parents, and they're used to my habits. They know not to sit in my specific "clean" chair, to let me disinfect things with alcohol wipes before they get brought into the home, et cetera.

Right now my symptoms are relatively under control. There was a time when a brush against something I consider "contaminated" would result in me chucking any clothes that made contact in the laundry and washing any skin that it touched. I'm trying to avoid doing this when I feel like I can, to try and condition myself into being, for lack of a better word, normal. However, it still bothers me, especially when I'm feeling particularly anxious. And it really bothers me when we have guests over who don't know about my preferences and get their outside "contaminants" everywhere, which is where the problem arises.

We're going to have family over. They're flying in from a different country and will be staying in an Airbnb, but the main purpose of their trip is to visit us, so they'll be at our house frequently. This is mostly fine. My main "safe" space is my bedroom, and I would keep that door closed the whole time, and I think they would respect me enough to not enter. But I also have two "safe" furniture items in shared space -- a dining room chair and a couch (we have two in the living room).

Basically, I want to ask my family members to not sit on those two furniture items and say that I have OCD as a shorthand for "if you do this I will become genuinely distressed". I just feel like it's the only way for them to take me seriously and actually remember not to do it without me having to go into a whole explanation about my neuroses.

But at the same time, it feels shitty to lie about a having a disorder. And I'd also be doing this partially out of laziness, which I feel almost definitely makes me an asshole -- because in theory I could just keep disinfecting the chair and the couch between each visit for the couple weeks that they're going to come over for, but both of them are fabric, and it would be so much work to wash and dry them every single day. To be frank, I can't be bothered doing all that, and would rather they just didn't sit there at all. But it might also be an asshole move to tell them not to sit on one of our couches -- I mean, Christ, it's a fucking couch. It's meant to be sat on. (Even if I'd rather they didn't -- not because of them specifically, but because they'd be visiting in "outside clothes", which aren't clean. I also don't sit there if I'm not in clean clothes.)

So -- WIBTA? And if I am voted TA, any advice for how to proceed that doesn't involve having to steam-clean a couch every day would be appreciated.

[enmstorytime]

The Contract

I put it in the introduction of my book, a promise that was tongue in cheek, that was meant in good fun, that would never, never, never actually have to be upheld: If I make $50,000,000 on this book, that's the last day I wear clothing. And to prove it to my fans, anyone who sends me the receipt for their purchase of this book has the right to host one party that I will attend in my new clothing-free life. I'll serve the drinks for the whole night.

When my editor looked over my introduction, he cocked his eyebrow, and simply said, "Bold."

"It's not like it's going to happen," I said. "Besides, with fifty mil in the bank, I could buy a house far enough from the public eye that I'd live my life in privacy. It wouldn't be too bad. Groceries would be delivered, and I guess it would be a good reason for me to never talk to my parents again."

"What about the book signings?" My editor asked, like this was a real conversation. "What about the promised parties."

"I don't know," I said shrugging. "It sounds kind of fun to me."

"A naked book signing sounds fun to you?" My editor said, sounding surprised."

"Once i earn that kind of money, I think my fans deserve whatever they want from me," I said, laughing. "But you've seen the sales on my last book. I barely made $10,000."

"You're writing is good though," my editor said. "It's a problem of marketing. And a naked book signing might just get the marketing up."

"No naked book signing until the fifty million," I said, surprised that my editor was even considering this.

"Okay, okay, no naked book signing... yet," My editor said. "But I think this promise of living forever naked and of becoming a free, naked bartender might be what we need to help your writing career really take off."

"I'm not a free, naked bartender," I said. "To get my services they have to buy the book."

"Fine, fine, whatever you say," my editor said. "But really, I think this is a stroke of marketing genius. We could make a website where people can buy your book, which would automatically submit the receipt, and then they'd be taken to your calendar where they could schedule your bartending services."

"It's never going to happen," I said.

"We could also get you on talk shows," my editor said. "No one is that excited to hear from any old writer. But the old cliche, sex sells, is really true."

"It won't sell $50,000,000 worth of books," I said.

"Of course, no one will believe you'd really go through with it," my editor said. "Unless... Would you be willing to sign a notarized contract agreeing to this deal? You'd sign for yourself, obviously, and we, the publishing company, would sign on behalf of your readers."

"I don't think that will be necessary," I said, laughing, even though my editor still looked more serious than I expected him to. "It's fifty million dollars."

"If it's never going to happen," my editor said, steepling his fingers and looking me up and down, "then why not sign a contract."

So, I did.

I went on talk shows before my book's publication, where late-night hosts made jokes about shrinkage, and workouts, and courage. One host even promised to have my contractual naked bartending party on his show. I laughed, and grinned, and leaned into the humor, enjoying what I assumed was my fifteen minutes of fame.

My friends all winked at me when they promised to buy my book, or they made me promise to not forget the little guys when I made my millions.

My parents were less understanding. My dad told me I was a shame to the family. Everyone at church kept telling he and my mom how they'd seen me on the TV, and how sorry they were that my parents had raised such a desperate, sinful, greedy child. My mom told me she'd never look at me again if I actually went through with becoming a nudist.

When the original sales numbers came in after my publication, I started to sweat. I made ten million. Every copy that had sold within a week, and my publishing company was preparing for a reprint.

"You better start looking at private jet," my editor said over the phone as he was sharing the numbers with me.

"You don't really think it'll happen do you?" I asked, my stomach performing somersaults. "It's just a temporary media hype, right?"

But it wasn't. As the initial reviews came in, my book was receiving praise, and there was buzz that I would be nominated for a few awards ("No matter what happens with this next print, you're contractually obligated to attend those award dinners, if you're nominated," my editor reminded me again over the phone).

The publishing company put me back on the media tour to talk about the writing. At each stop I was given time to plug what inspired the book, to talk about the process, and then the teasing started. Hosts asked if I was nervous. Hosts called me brave. The host who had promised to have me bartend on the air rolled out a drink cart that could be wheeled through his live studio audience.

My friends started asking for previews. "I'll see it all soon enough anyway," was said to me almost daily.

My dad called to tell me he'd written me out of the will, since I was already rich enough anyway. My mom stopped speaking to me.

At the second printing, my book sales landed at a crisp $42,000,000 in my bank account. Every copy sold. I had assumed that this printing would give me the answer on whether or not my life was going to change more drastically than it already had. I don't know if you've ever realized that everyone who meets you is actively picturing you naked, but I was now very aware that that was what was happening to me. All anyone wanted to talk to me about was my body. And my company was almost literally edging me, printing just enough books that I'd have to wait one more round before finding out whether I'd be allowed clothing again.

"You've got your private jet, right?" My editor asked. "If not, check your email, I've sent you a few listings for some small, cheaper jets. But you'll definitely need one."

Out of caution I bought myself a secluded cabin in the woods, far enough from civilization that I could still go outside and enjoy the sun, even if I had to go out sans all my clothing. I told no one where my cabin was.

I was back on the talk show circuit. This time we weren't talking about the writing, we talked about the printing details, we talked about the number of books that would need to sell before I had to honor my contract. My publishing company sent copies of the contract to each host, and I heard the stipulations read over and over again while audiences wolf-whistled and jeered. The website to buy my book and schedule my bartending services was posted at the bottom of the screen. Each talk show ended with the host promising that I would be back once my next printing had sold out.

Some fans started a website that had one of those thermometer charts that people often use for fundraising events. The visual of 42/50 hit home harder than anything else had. Under the chart were pages and pages of AI renditions of what I looked like under my clothes.

"Listen, it's over," my editor said over the phone one night. "The pre-sale numbers for your next printing put you at $75,000,000."

My heart plummeted.

"I gotta say, I don't envy you," my editor continued. "The publishing company wants to have a recorded event where we break the news to you, and where you turn your clothing over to us."

"It's not in my contract that that would be recorded," I said. "I'd prefer to just ship everything, and then probably never come back into your office, thanks."

"Believe me, I get it," my editor said, and I could hear the grin on his face. "And you're right, it's not in your contract. But I think you should do it. We're drafting a new contract that I think you'll like."

"Will I get my clothes back if I do the recording?" I asked, allowing myself a second of hope that he immediately squashed.

"God no," he said, chuckling. "You're our gold mine, and we aren't just going to give that up. But, we'll censor you on the recording. The minute there's full frontal, blurring effects will go on. You'll also be given a guaranteed five more printings of this book, and a contract for five books of your choice, plus a memoir deal that you'll write after five years all about your first five years as the world's most public nudist."

"I don't think so," I said.

"I would reconsider," my editor said. "This allows you to ease into your exposure. Sure, the live studio audience won't have the blur, but the world at large will. Eventually, you'll end up somewhere online, and everyone will see everything, but this buys you a little more time. Plus, the company is throwing in a private jet, since I know you haven't bought one yet."

I hadn't bought the jet. But now, I knew I needed one, otherwise I'd be pushing my way through busy terminals, the only naked person getting pressed up on by the hundreds of people hauling their luggage.

"It's tempting," I said.

"You're alternative is that we will send our enforcement team to collect what is ours," my editor said. "And you know how hard it is to schedule things as a company of this size. It's likely we'd forget to send you warning, so you could be out in the street, and our big, burly enforcers could show up and tear the clothes right off your body, in front of everyone, and those beautiful camera phones won't give you the same guarantee of a modesty blur."

"Fine," I said, understanding that my publishing company would be getting what they wanted.

The printing came and sold. My editor was right, my bank account now had over $75,000,000, and that was with the cost of my small, private cabin in the woods taken out. I signed the new contract the day of the recording in my editor's office before I was escorted to a filming studio. I had packed up every piece of clothing I owned, and had given the publishing company's enforcers keys to my home and my cabin so they could ensure that I was living up to my end of the contract. I hadn't withheld any clothing.

In the filming studio, my editor called me up on stage. Surrounding me on stage were at least fifteen mannequins, each dressed in something that had been mine. One was dressed in my talk-show suit. One was dressed in my favorite jockstrap that I used to wear on dates when I hoped to get lucky.

I wore my normal clothes: t-shirt, jeans, tennis shoes, baseball cap. I wanted today to feel as normal as possible, even though I had barely slept the night before, even though I knew today would not be a normal day.

The program wasn't long. I sat across from my editor, both of surrounded by mannequins, the jock-strap clad one framed by the two of us. He asked me about each outfit that was displayed. I told him the stories of where I got them, why I picked them, what I would miss about them.

"And which outfit will you miss the most?" my editor asked.

"The only answer to that question is the one that I have on right now," I said, and the audience chuckled appreciatively. Hungrily.

"I'd miss that one too, if I were you," he said to more laughs. "But the time has come to say goodbye."

The blood rushed to my face and to my crotch.

"I've been instructed to give you one last choice," my editor said. "Would you like to hand over your clothes or have them taken from you?"

Without giving me time to respond, two burly men appeared out of nowhere. Their hands groped and grabbed at my clothing, and my arms and legs moved at their command as I was shucked of everything.

In seconds, almost as quickly as they had appeared, they were gone, and with them every stitch of clothing I had worn today. There was no ceremony, no gentleness, no gradual removal to acclimate to new levels of nudity. I was fully clothed one moment. Completely naked the next.

And I stood there, hands at my sides, processing that I didn't even say goodbye to my clothing, that I would never again feel denim on my legs, or cotton sleeves against my arms. It took me nearly a full minute standing in front of my editor and my live audience to realize that I hadn't reached down to cover my cock.

[scienceandfandoms]

I was talking on Discord and accidentally spent an hour giving my thoughts on how well each new Who companion could take care of a baby. Note that I think most everyone on this list is capable of taking care of a baby for some amount of time. As such I'm adding how long I think they could do so/additional stipulations in bold. Also of note that a lot of these depend on when in their timeline we mean. I split some ratings based on this. Also also this is just for fun

So without further ado... How well New Who companions would do taking care of a baby (under the cut)

Rose Tyler: When we meet her she is so so young to be caring for an infant for a significant amount of time. But by the end of her time on screen? Sure. In EU content she's even got a kid. Rating: a few days at the start, long term at the end

Mickey Smith: Era specific. Definitely not for early Mickey. But once he's matured after spending time in Pete's World he could probably do it. Rating: maybe for an afternoon at the start, long term at the end

Captain Jack Harkness: Has had children canonically. This does not, however, fill me with confidence. Probably knows how to keep them alive more or less though unless their death would save the world haha who said that. Rating: inevitable heartbreak/10

Martha Jones: I'd trust her to do so at the start if she had to bc of her medical training and being slightly older/with her shit together. My confidence has only increased with time. Rating: most competent so far, could probably handle it long term if she had to right at the start

Donna Noble: Has successfully, canonically, on screen raised a spectacular daughter who is also a companion. A large portion of her time on screen in The Star Beast is dedicated to how good of a mother she is. Rating: companion I would trust the most with a baby for any amount of time

River Song: Another one that depends in part on place in the timeline and I'm not even gonna get into the thing where the Library makes her a parent or something at the end of that episode bc that feels forced af to me. But I feel like she'd lack confidence in her ability to care for a kid of any age, but take to it surprisingly well if she really had to do it. Rating: earlier in her timeline just no. Later in her timeline she could probably manage long term

Amy Pond and Rory Williams (they're a couple so doing them together): at the beginning they're also quite young (not even counting Amelia era Amy). They could do it but I think Rory would be picking up a lot of the slack for the same reasons I think early Martha could do it. Dubiously canonly they DID raise a kid (though it's unclear if it was from infancy), and in general there's so many timeskips they're a lot older and more mature by their departure and I think they'd be fine. Rating: carried by Rory to squeak out mid-long term success early on, but in a better position long term later in their lives

Clara Oswald: Clara has experience with children, yes, but ones that are SCHOOL age. Clara is not equipped to handle an infant. You can't be clever at an infant. Unless you speak baby. Maybe she forces the Doctor to teach her to speak baby. I doubt it would help. Rating: I wouldn't leave a baby with Clara Oswald for more than an afternoon and even that much is a gamble

Nardole: Has been seen looking after babies before. Seems reasonably competent at it. Up there honestly. Rating: long term right from the start. Or at least from his second episode he's just kinda doofy in THORS and there's a significant time skip after that

Bill Potts: While not as young as someone like Rose, her position in life is still one that makes caring for a baby for a significant duration difficult. Could she do it? Yeah probably if she really had to. But I want her to live her life. Rating: living situation complicates anything more than short term early on, probably capable of long term with resources even then

Ryan Sinclair: Chibnall companions are kinda nothing to me. Sorry. Please don't come at me for not being a Chibnall enjoyer. But it can be hard to get a read on them to me. Ryan is pretty young though so I'm gonna say best not. Maybe if he was written by someone capable of developing a character. Rating: short term would probably be okay

Graham O'Brien: Also Chibnall. In a better position age wise. Loses points for all the ableism with Ryan so maybe if the kid isn't disabled I guess. Rating: another short term candidate I suppose

Yaz Khan: Also Chibnall. Also young. Still probably not. I'm sorry canon Yaz is kinda nothing to me I know a lot of people really like her. Rating: competent enough for short term probably

Dan Lewis: Maybe the Chibnall companion I'd trust with a baby the most? I mean he's not barely an adult, and his main crime is outing someone which isn't really relevant to a baby. I think it's a bit outside his wheelhouse but he'd manage it okay. Though if he never unshrunk his house that might make it a bit more difficult for anything longer term. Rating: congratulations you get short term with longer term conditional on the assumption you have somewhere to go with said baby

Rose Noble: She's 15. But on the other hand she could ask her mom for help so if that's an option she's fine actually. Rating: probably a great short term babysitter, has the resources to get excellent assistance if she were to end up with a baby in the long term

Ruby Sunday: Another Quite Young companion and her introduction literally does feature a baby in her care getting kidnapped. She does get that baby back though and it's shown that she helps her mom with childcare a lot so big babysitter energy. Rating: short-mid term on her own, longer term with assistance

[spilledmilkfkdies]

So ever since @calissarowan posted their Dumantlos fan child, my brain has rotting about my old Gantlogron fan child and couldn't help but ask, in your opinion how would Gantlos and Ogron be like as parents to their own child other than Duman?

Oooooo hm!!

Jk- Kinda.

Though I have given Gantlos a dead daughter from his "pre-wizard" years, so I don't doubt he has more experience. I was gonna remove her from the equation temporarily, but you said MY opinion, so I'm letting her stay 🗣🗣

Now I do think it depends on when they manage to acquire a child, in whatever way, but rn let's pick the foggy period between locking away the fairies and S4, my absolute favourite one for random stuff to take place in fr. Enough room for them to slip into a more normal lifestyle, but still with that sneaky lil "We're not done yet." to add a bit of drama oOoooOooo

All things considered though, I would like to think they do try as parents. They'd never intentionally harm their kid in any way, and they do care so very much, even if they don't always show it in the most obvious ways. But I'd hope a gantlogron baby would know that at some point, having spent enough time with them to pick up on all the cues and all that. Can I guarantee that a person raised by them is the kindest, most understanding individual around? Probably not. But neither are Ogron and Gantlos themselves, so there. I guess.

Next on my list of things I wanna bring up; would the child be magical? BECAUSE, don't get me wrong, they'd love em either way- But. I know for a fact Ogron especially would be ecstatic to learn their child had magic in there somewhere. Exploring it with them, training, that's so much more interesting to him than all the reading and writing (even though he absolutely adored all of that too, but shhhh don't tell anyone). Might go a little overboard, can definitely see that happening, so Gantlos will have to help balance it all out.

At the end of the day, I'm a "There's worse parents to have" TRUTHER idc idc. Gantlos might need a sec to adjust to things and get used to the idea of having another child after what happened to his last, but also that was so long ago fr, who's to say that even matters anymore (me??). Things would end up fine either way, Ogron would help him right through it. That and the. "I fear I'll break them with the slightest touch" period he'll undeniably go through as well. In which Ogron did all the holding, but Gantlos would be on his ass constantly about "doing it wrong", all the while being too stressed to hold the baby himself. Getting out of that phase was a joy for everyone involved.

Overall they both have their parenting flaws, but again, they're not the worst. They do a decent job and have a pretty good time. Until the kid becomes a teenager, they're gonna be fighting for their lives. Ogron is gonna "While you're under MY roof-" it up, Gantlos would pull a "Because I said so." I'm so sorry 😔😔

[scaly-freaks]

letter to inmate 13453-079

I'm not meant to write letters to you anymore.

They let me do it at first, said it would help with the 'therapy.' All these unsent reams of paper crumbling under the pressure of the red ballpoint. Dad got me a montblanc pen. I think he thought I'd like it because I used to 'write' a lot when I was a kid. I keep it in the little box it came in and let Cannibal play with it sometimes. A pen is meant to be used and worn-down, not all fancy and shiny. It reminds me of those polished beetle shells you used to bring me when I was good. Does your sister still collect them? I saw her at court during your sentencing, but they wouldn't let me talk to her. She mouthed something but I couldn't make it out. Her smile reminded me of yours. They all thought I was crying because I was relieved. He'll be locked up till he's dead, they said. He can't hurt you anymore.

They looked happier for themselves than they did for me but I've never been good at reading people's emotions well so I don't know.

I learned yours, still remember them. Does your baby finger still tremble right before you hit someone? They keep writing articles about you. I don't think they actually hate you at all. You're young, handsome and evil. America loves that. I'm not supposed to read about you. I do it anyway. They said you've got another life sentence on top of the first because you cut the face off that kiddy-diddler and wore it to frighten the guards. I pictured you giggling and I couldn't stop laughing. It woke Val up.

He's six now, and he doesn't like living in my parents' house. He asks about you a lot. Still calls you Krampus. I finally told him you're his dad, but I don't think he understands yet what that means. He thinks I'm his only parent and that I grew him from a flower one day and watered him with all my love. I tell him that's why he came out so pretty. He asks so many questions, sometimes I get frustrated and shout at him to shut up. That's when he cries and tells me he likes you better, and demands to know where you are and that you never yell at him.

I didn't tell my family you carved that baby dragon for him. They'd take it off him. I said I made it and they said I'm very talented and oh poor thing, you must have been so lonely down there, you probably needed all the distraction you could get.

So, I've started whittling now. That's my thing. The smell of it reminds me of you, wood shavings and petrichor and that bitter tinge of gun smoke you'd never explain.

Val's hair is down to his back. He says he wants to cut it short like yours, but I don't want to just yet. I'm still attached to brushing it every night. He has that Hightower dimple in his chin, and the wrinkle on his nose and between his brow when he's annoyed, just like you. He started kicking the other children at school so we had to pull him out and we're trying homeschooling now. My family would never say it out loud, but I know they look at him and wonder if he has more of you in him than he does me. It's the violence of his tantrums, I think.

They all pretend to be so very 'understanding' but the truth is, they want us both to get better quickly so they can continue with their lives and go back to pretending everything is fine. When they thought I was dead, that you killed me the same night you snatched me off that dark street, they got their closure and they moved on after grieving. Now the wound is ripped open again. They've forgotten how to tend to it. It's been too long.

Anyway, I don't know how to end this.

Bye, I guess.

a lipstick print is pressed to the bottom of the page, the pucker weak, as if she hesitated.

[joeys-babe]

Someday We’ll Be Together

Chapter 12: Since Lsu

————————————————————————

September 30, 2021

(y/n's pov)

its been..

18 days.

432 hours.

25,920 minutes.

1,555,200 seconds.

since i've talked to joe.

since our kiss.

since we cried on the sidewalk while it rained over top of us.

i had come to the decision to wait 2 weeks before possibly reaching out to joe, but now it had been 2 weeks and 4 days.

i did want to hear what he had to say.. but i was also nervous to hear what he had to say.

it was stupid for me to think the felt the same way, he could have any girl in the world; and there was no way he'd pick me.

over the past couple weeks, i've lost track of what day of the week it even was. i stayed in bed most of the time, busy feeling bad for myself.

gracie and jess had texted me everyday wondering if i had talked to joe yet. i'd tell them no and in they'd give me a pep talk in return.

they really wanted me to talk to joe, but i still had no clue to why.

it was 1 o'clock in the afternoon when my mom came in my room.

"good morning sunshine!" - your mom laughed

"not funny." - you

"i just thought i'd come in and check to see if you were alive." - your mom

"definitely alive, feel a little dead though." - you

"oh you're exaggerating. but.. you need to get up and out of this bed today. you, your father, and i have plans tonight" - your mom

"wait what? what are we doing?" - you

"we're going to the bengals game. joe got us three tickets but robin was the one to walk them over here. she said he didn't want to make you uncomfortable by coming over here." - your mom

"i don't know mom, i might not go. i don't know if i'm ready." - you

"this would be the perfect way for you two to talk, robin said he's going straight home after the game, win or lose. that's when you two can finally talk." - your mom

"i'm scared though." - you

"of what, honey?" - your mom

"what he's going to say." - you

"it's joe, y/n. it's the same boy you used to force to play barbie's with you. i wish you two would realize that you can't live without each other, and just stop fighting." - your mom

"it's hard to mom. it's hard to just see him as my childhood best friend when he's so much more to me." - you

"i understand, just tell me your decision before we leave." - your mom

"i will." - you

my mom gave me a small reassuring smile before disappearing out of my room.

joe hadn't left my mind once since that night at the bar and now i have to decide wether or not to go to his game.

on one hand, it was nice that he wanted to clear things up and the fact he invited me and my parents to his game today really showed he cares about our friendship.

but on the other hand he cared about our friendship.

to him i was nothing more than that, and at times it seemed like the only reason he talked to me still was because of how long we've known each other.

when i went downstairs for breakfast i immediately noticed robin sitting at the island with my mom. i had been avoiding her and jimmy too, only engaging in small conversation from time to time.

"hey honey!" - robin smiled

"oh hi! morning." - you

"you doing okay?" - robin

"uh.. i'm starting to get better, yeah." - you

"i'm really sorry honey, i hate seeing you hurt. especially over my damn son." - robin

"i'm fine, robin. i'll get over it." - you

"there shouldn't be anything you should have to get over! i raised him better than that. i mean has he even tried to explain to you why he did it.. or apologized?" - robin

"he has apologized, and he has tried to explain but i shut him down. he tried texting me, but after 2 days he gave up because i didn't answer. i'm sorry, i just can't talk to him yet." - you

"oh honey don't apologize, he really messed up. i understand you're side of it completely." - robin

i gave her a small smile before grabbing my breakfast and exiting the kitchen. before i got to the first step i turned around and asked robin something.

"hey robin?" - you

"mhm?" - robin

"is joe upset?" - you

"of course, y/n. that following tuesday, after practice joe went to the gym till dark. i had to call him and practically force him to go home. he's coming to a realization that he can't live without you and it's hitting him pretty hard. he won't talk much, to anyone really." - robin

"wow. i didn't know he was actually being affected that much." - you

"he's really upset with himself. he knows he messed up big time and wants to fix it. there have been a couple paragraphs he's showed me that he thought about sending you but i don't know if he ever did." - robin

"if he did i wouldn't know, i blocked him on everything.." - you

"that's your decision and i don't blame you. i wouldn't wanna hear from him either after what he pulled." - robin

"i'm just surprised he told you the truth." - you

"he wanted sound advice on how to fix the whole situation that's why. supposedly today was step one of his plan, you and your parents going to the game." - robin

"despite all of this, i cant but think about how sweet that is." - you

"i told you y/n, he really really cares about you. like a lot." - robin

"thanks for everything." - you said before walking upstairs with your breakfast

*time skip*

it was a few hours later and my parents had just left for the game. i decided to not go because i didn't want my first time seeing joe since the fight to be at such a huge event. both my parents and joe's respected my decision and said their goodbyes before leaving.

now that i was home alone i sat bored on my bed scrolling on my laptop looking for jobs.

i eventually gave up and picked my phone up off my nightstand to scroll through instagram. the first thing i saw was joe warming up and i couldn't help but smile, he looked so good.

when the game started i slipped one of joe's jerseys on and made my way into the living room.

once the game started i found myself zoning out while watching joe. he looked unbelievably good in his uni and it was hard not to watch him intently.

the whole first quarter every time the camera panned to joe he was looking up in the stands. it didn't take me long to figure out that he was looking for me.

(joes pov)

there was 2 minutes left in the first quarter and to my disappointment, y/n wasn't here.

i couldn't blame her, after all the shit i pulled i wouldn't come to the game to support me either.

but, there was a hope deep down that she would be here. the start of the 2nd quarter didn't make me give up either, i sat on the sidelines still staring up at the box my parents and y/n's parents were sitting in.

"joe. she ain't comin." - ja'marr

"you don't know that!" - joe

"i think she'd be here by now if she was going to come." - tee

i shrugged them off and while running onto the field with the rest of my offense i looked up at the box, she still wasn't here and that's when i concluded that she wasn't coming.

(y/n's pov)

i finished getting ready with 5 minutes in the 2nd quarter to spare. when i stood in front of my mirror i took in my appearance. i was wearing a  black long sleeve turtle neck with the black version of joe's jersey over top, biker shorts, and black combat boots to complete the outfit.

hurriedly i ran downstairs, grabbed my phone, keys's, and wallet before sprinting to my car.

i wanted to make it before halftime was over so when joe ran back out he would see me.

thank god my mom left my ticket on the kitchen table or else i wouldn't be able to get into joe's box.

when the security guard opened and i walked in, both sets of parents' faces lit up.

"y/n!!" - robin smiled

"hey y'all!" - you smiled

"come here, you can sit by me." - your mom grinned

i moved over and plopped down between my mom and robin.

"what made you decide to come?" - your mom

"i was watching the game from home. every time the camera was on joe i noticed that he was looking up here. i assumed he was looking for me so i wanted to be here for him." - you

"you don't even have to assume, he's definitely looking for you." - your mom

"no doubts there y/n." - robin laughed

(joe's pov)

when we ran back out after halftime i refrained from looking up at the stands. i didn't feel like getting let down again.

i was mid conversation with ja'marr when tee came running up behind us to interrupt.

"joe! joe!" - tee shoved joe's shoulder

"what?!" - joe

"look!" - tee pointed at the stands

my eyes trailed to where tee was pointing to see that it was in the direction of my box.

at first i didn't know what i was supposed to see until she started vigorously waving with other hands.

it was y/n.

a huge smile formed on my face as i waved back to her.

"you're whipped, son." - ja'marr laughed

"yeah.. i am." - joe continued smiling at you

"come on, lover boy we gotta go. you can fawn over her later." - ja'marr

(y/n's pov)

watching joes face light up when he saw me was so incredibly cute. my mom and robin's audible "awwww's" made the moment even sweeter.

the rest of the game joe seemed a lot less distracted, and they won 24-21.

"do you wanna come see joe with us?" - robin

"i'm probably just gonna go head home. thanks for asking though, and also tell joe i said thank you for the ticket." - you

"of course. we'll see you tomorrow?" - robin

"yup! goodnight guys!" - you

i made my way out of the stadium fast to try and beat traffic. my parents plus jimmy and robin were going out to dinner tonight, and from my mom i learned that joe was heading straight home from the game too.

when i got home i took my boots off and changed into a more comfy outfit.

sitting at the kitchen island in complete silence, i contemplated texting joe. after seeing his face light up on the field when he saw me in the stands, i needed to see him.

i found myself zoning out, my thoughts never stopping for a second when my phone vibrated on my lap.

grabbing it immediately, disappointment washed over me when it was just a message from my mom.

make it home okay?

i texted back a quick "yup 👍" before putting my phone down again. i was getting up from my seat after deciding to just go to bed when my phone buzzed again.

this time when i picked it up, my heart started beating out of my chest. it was a text from joe.

can i come over?

for a second i thought about what i could send back. something simple? something that shows how much i miss him without being too greedy? a simple yes?

after a few seconds of panicking i typed something up and sent it without thinking any longer.

please.

a smile wouldn't leave my face as i made my way to the living room. i watched through the window that overlooked the road, and started blushing when i watched joe fly out of his front door. his pace across the road was quick, practically running after he looked both ways.

once i could hear his footsteps on the front porch i started towards the front door to unlock it for him, but once i got to the hallway he was already standing there.

"i forgot you had a key." - you laughed nervously, unsure of what to do now that you were face-to-face with him

joe moved towards me and wrapped his arms around my waist, burying his head in my neck as my arms were around his neck.

i heard him mumble something incomprehensible, and when i asked him to repeat himself he pulled his face away from my neck. joes arms were still around my waist, my arms around his neck and he looked down into my eyes as fondness filled his.

"i can't do this anymore." - joe

"you can't do what anymore?" - you

"y/n, i want to clear up everything. tell you the truth." - joe

"then tell me, joe." - you

joe unwrapped his arms around my waist and grabbed one of my hands, pulling me into the living room and sitting on the couch.

"i'm so so sorry for what happened weeks ago. it wasn't what i planned at all." - joe

i heard his apology, but the only thing i heard was "planned".

"planned?" - you searched his eyes for answers

"planned. i wanted you to go to my game, and win or lose i was going to take you somewhere after. thankfully we won, and now i can admit to you why i was so persistent on you going to the bar with me. it was my plan to kiss you, but when i did.. i was so worried that you had just gotten caught in the moment and didn't actually want to kiss me. i totally panicked and the first person i saw was lexie. i'm truly so sorry y/n, and i know i can't explain it away. nothing happened between lexie and i either, she was being a total bitch and i'll tell you our conversation later. that is, if you still want to be friends?" - joe

friends.

"joe, over the past weeks i've realized that i can't go without you. i accept your apology, but i just have one question.." - you

a smile formed on joes face when i said i accepted his apology, relief washed over his body and the way his body physically became more relaxed showed that.

"ask away." - joe

"what were you going to do after you kissed me, if the lexie stuff didn't happen? what was the whole point?" - you

i watched him tense back up and his gaze left my face, joe looked at his feet as he thought about how to word his next statement.

"i was going to admit something to you." - joe

"admit.. what?" - you

"something i should've told you back when we were still at lsu." - joe

"which is?" - you

joe sighed before scooting closer to me on the couch, he took one of my hands off my lap and held it in his.

"in high school i came to the realization that you were the most beautiful girl in the world. when we were at ohio state together i started getting butterflies every time you said my name.. every word that left your mouth made me blush as long as it was directed towards me. when you went along with me to lsu, that's when it really hit me. you're the only girl i've ever truly truly cared about, y/n. no other girl i've ever been with has mattered to me as much as you do. you understand me more than anyone else, and i'm so grateful to have you in my life." - joe

my heart rate got higher and higher as words spilled out of his mouth. was joe really confessing to me right now? he felt the same way?

"what are you saying?" - you

joe licked his lips before making eye contact with me and letting go of the breath he didn't know he was holding.

"y/n, i'm in love with you." - joe

i squeezed his hand as those words left his lips, i've wanted to hear those words for so so long.

joes eyes were still searching my face for a reaction when i realized i hadn't said anything yet. without thinking i launched forward and hugged my arms around his neck, now sitting on his lap.

when i pulled myself away from him i cupped his face in my hands.

"joe, i'm in love with you too. have been for a long time, and you have no idea how happy i am to hear you feel the same way." - you

joe couldn't get the smile off his face, and i couldn't either.

"can i kiss you?" - joe smiled

"of course." - you

joe leaned forward and pressed his lips onto mine, it felt like fireworks were going off around us as our lips connected.

after a few moments we pulled away completely breathless with our foreheads touching.

"god, i'm so happy you feel the same way. now you can understand why i was so pissed off when you went on a date with tee. it wasn't just because he was my teammate, i just couldn't stand seeing you with another guy that wasn't me." - joe

"it makes sense now. i'm really really glad things ended up working out though. i've been venting to my mom about you for the past 5 years." - you

"i vented to her too! i don't know how your mom was able to keep from telling you that i felt the same way." - joe

"she was hoping a moment just like this would happen, that's how. and you don't have to worry about other guys anymore, by the way." - you

"i know. all mine now." - joe leaned in and kissed you

"i love that you just did that. we just kissed and it was so casual. like i can kiss you whenever i want now." - you smiled

"you're so cute." - joe laughed

eventually joe laid flat on his back and i laid next to him, his hand on my back keeping me from falling off the couch.

"what time is it?" - you

joe picked his phone off of his chest and read the time out.

"almost one. 12:47." - joe

"i don't want you to leave." - you buried your face in his neck

"i don't want to leave either. can i just stay the night? i really don't feel like sleeping without you tonight." - joe

"sure, let's head up to my room." - you

joe and i made our way upstairs to my room, he was now laying in the middle of the bed in the room that he helped me set up.

i excused myself to go wash my face, and by the time i had gotten back joe was sprawled out on the bed looking super comfortable.

"someone looks comfy." - you laughed

"i'd be even more comfy with you next to me, c'mere." - joe patted the space next to him

i made quick work getting underneath the covers and getting comfortable.

"you really sleep in just sweatpants and a sweatshirt?" - you

"i just sleep in boxers, but i think it's a little early for that." - joe winked as he moved a hair out of your face

i giggled and returned to laying on my pillow instead of joes like i was moments before. i guess joe could sense my unsureness of what to do next because he smiled as he pulled me into his chest.

"you can lay on me." - joe kissed your head

my cheek was pressed against his left peck as my hand rested just bellow his right.

"your chest is so comfy." - you

joe laughed sweetly before kissing my forehead, as soon as he pulled away he pressed another kiss to it and another and another.

"you're gonna kiss your lips off, joe!" - you giggled

he finally moved away and moved onto his side, now he was leaning on top of me.

"that's the plan, honey." - joe smiled

the nickname had me blushing and giggling before i pressed another kiss to his lips.

"we've gotta make up for the 5 years of missed opportunities for kisses." - you

"i can arrange that." - joe moved down and kissed you again

after a few more kisses, joe laid back down and pulled me back to his chest. his arms were wrapped tightly around my waist and it felt so right.

"our parents are gonna flip when they find out about us." - you smiled

"our moms have been planning this since they found out i was a boy and you were a girl." - joe laughed

"i have a question." - you

"you're full of those tonight, huh?" - joe grinned

i laughed before continuing on.

"what happens now? about us?" - you

"well, i'm a little tired right now. so i was thinking tomorrow night i take you on our first official date. that is if you aren't busy and would like to go with me?" - joe

"of course i'll go with you. plus i'm never busy joe i literally live with my parents." - you

"hopefully that'll change eventually." - joe

"what do you mean?" - you grinned up at him

"if we start dating and have a serious relationship, i was hoping at some point you'd move in with me. i mean would you rather live with your parents or your super ultra-cool best friend/boyfriend." - joe

"i love the sound of that." - you blushed

"living with me?" - joe

"that… and also you calling yourself my boyfriend." - you

"who knows, i might be able to call myself that after tomorrow night." - joe shrugged and you hid your blush in his chest

"you're gonna be the absolute death of me, joseph lee." - you

joes laugh shook his chest, me included, as he rubbed up and down my arm. when he finished laughing he let out a loud yawn.

"you tired from your game? i haven't even congratulated you on your win yet, i'm sorry! i'm such a terrible almost girlfriend." - you

"you're a perfect almost girlfriend. plus there have been more important things on our hands tonight." - joe

"okay well, goodnight joey." - you kissed his cheek

"goodnight, y/n." - joe kissed your head and rubbed your back in attempts to lull you to sleep

it wasn't long before joes chest got into a rhythm of rising and falling and small snores escaped from him.

tonight i fell asleep on the chest of my favorite boy knowing he was just as in love with me as i was with him.

————————————————————————

authors note: some fluff to end the horrid sunday that this day has been. 😭

(some angst is def coming soon though 😉)

hope you enjoyed! ❤️

[leiawritesstories]

Ahaha, I have another because I’m greedy 🙈 But this prompt for Rowaelin, please??:

I put you down as my emergency contact because I don’t know anyone else in the city, and we literally only met in passing, please forgive me but I am stuck at the ER and they won’t let me leave without you.

Thank you!

hehehehe okay so both you and @tomtenadia asked for this one and I really really hope this delivers 😈😁🥰

500 followers celebration prompt fills

Word count: 2.2k oops

Warnings: some angst and hurt BUT ONLY A LITTLE BIT I PROMISE and it's followed by so much comfort

Enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aelin blinked back into reality and found herself in a hospital bed, her body covered in a cotton gown, aches and dulled pains creeping back into her consciousness as her head cleared. She shifted and found her left arm in a sling, immobilized. She shook her head gently, trying to bring up the memories of just how the hell she'd ended up in the emergency room instead of back at her hotel.

"Good to see you awake," a woman's voice said from her right. Aelin turned her head to find a nurse, about her own age, clad in the same blue scrubs as the other staff. "You've been asleep for a solid few hours, probably thanks to the medication."

"Wh-what happened?" Aelin croaked.

The nurse pressed her lips together. "Do you remember a car accident?"

Oh.

Just like that, the memories flooded back. Aelin had been sitting in the back of a taxi, heading from a coffee shop where she'd been at a casual post-session meeting back to her hotel in downtown Doranelle. As the taxi had driven through an intersection, a driver had run the red light in the opposite direction and hit the rear side of the taxi. Her memories got a little fuzzy after that, mostly just snippets of shock, confusion, flashing lights and sirens, and a vague recollection of being loaded into an ambulance.

"You remember?" the nurse asked. Aelin nodded. "Good. That's a good sign that you likely don't have a concussion." She scratched a few notes onto her clipboard. "Now that you're awake, we can finish discharging you. You're stable, so we won't need you to stay here."

"So I can go home?" Aelin signed the papers the nurse handed her.

"No."

"What do you mean, I can't go home?" Still a little out of it from the medication they'd given her, Aelin blinked at the ER nurse. "You just told me I don't need to stay."

"Let me clarify, then," the nurse replied. "You've been cleared to go home, but you have not been cleared to go home alone. You'll need someone to take you--and no, a taxi or an Uber doesn't count." A hint of a smile curled the corner of her lips at Aelin's disgruntled frown. "It's for your safety, Miss Galathynius. We don't want to see our ER patients back here within a few hours because they tried to do something they shouldn't have done."

Aelin sighed. "All right. You can call my emergency contact." She leaned back into the hospital bed. "I'd ask you to call my parents, but they live over a thousand miles away, so that isn't possible."

"As long as you have an emergency contact on file, that will be fine." The nurse placed Aelin's normal clothes in a small pile on the chair next to the bed. "I'll be back in a few minutes to let you know who's coming for you."

"Thanks." Aelin managed a half smile before tilting her head back and groaning. Gods. Of all the days and times to wind up in the ER, it had to be now, during her work trip to Doranelle. At least their healthcare system was well-funded and well-run; the staff who she vaguely remembered tending to her when she came in were polite, professional, and expertly trained. Muffling a grunt, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, gripped the handrail, and stood up slowly, careful not to put too much weight on her legs at once. Shakily, she managed to stand up and reach for her clothes.

There, she got stuck. She couldn't get out of her hospital gown alone because the damn thing was tied in the back and her damn arm was in a sling to immobilize her injured shoulder.

She'd just screamed a string of foul curses into the pillow when there was a knock on the door and the nurse reappeared. "Good news, Miss Galathynius! A Mr. Rowan Whitethorn is on his way to pick you up."

Ah, shit. The thought of Rowan Whitethorn seeing her like this was almost enough to make her wish she'd been kept at the hospital.

"All right," was what she told the nurse. "I hope he's bringing food, because I am bloody hungry."

The nurse laughed. "I'm sure he'll be able to get you all the food you want once you're out of here." She handed Aelin a small paper bag. "There is a small quantity of pain medicine in here. I'd recommend taking it once or twice a day, depending on how severe your pain is, for the next four to seven days. You can take over-the-counter pain medications as well. After seven days, stop taking the prescription medication. If there's any left, you can bring it to any pharmacy here and they'll discard it."

Aelin nodded along. "Okay. Thank you." She flashed a soft smile at the nurse, who'd been nothing but kind to her.

"Of course." The nurse offered her a small smile in return and left the room.

Aelin considered whether or not it would be worth attempting to get into her normal clothes before Rowan got there and decided that it wasn't. If he had to walk her out of the hospital still wearing the godsdamned gown, then he would. Damn shoulder.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, Rowan Whitethorn pushed open the door and burst into the hospital room. His crisply pressed suit was disheveled, his tie loose around his neck, his collar undone, and his eyes were wild, almost panicky, as he crossed the room in two long strides and cupped Aelin's face in his hands.

"What the hell?!" She pulled away from him, hissing at the sharp twinge of pain caused by the sudden movement.

He stepped back, hands up. "You what the hell? Give me a fucking heart attack, why don't you, Galathynius?"

She rolled her eyes. "You barely even know me, Whitethorn. Shut it with the heart attack nonsense."

"No." He folded his arms across his chest and scowled. "Why the hell am I your emergency contact?"

"Because I'm a thousand miles from home, I don't live here, and you're the only person at this fucking seminar that's bothered to learn my name." The small rant spilled out of Aelin before she could stop it. "I needed to have someone on file, and your stupid face is the first name I thought of. You're lucky I had your business card, or I'd be stuck here until I convinced the nurse that I could Uber back to my hotel without dying."

Rowan's cranky expression morphed into mild shock, then concern. "So you weren't going to explain why in all hell your arm is in a sling and there's bruises all over you?"

"They're not all over me," she huffed. "There's some minor bruising on my clavicles, arms, and left cheek. And anyone who asks why I'm wearing a sling deserves to be told to shut the fuck up."

"Fair enough," he admitted. "Fine. I'll drive you back to your hotel." He offered one hand.

She held up her good hand. "Not so fast, Mr. Business. I need to change into my own clothes." She frowned. "But with this bloody sling, I can't get the gown untied."

To her immense shock, a blush spread up his angled cheekbones. "Um...should I call the nurse?"

"This is an ER, Whitethorn, not the regular hospital ward," she deadpanned. "I've been discharged, so as far as they're concerned, I'm no longer their patient. You can help me."

His blush deepened. "I..." He cleared his throat, schooling his face back into its usual impassive mask. "Fine. Tell me what you need help with."

She turned, presenting her back. "Untie the gown, please."

He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "she's trying to kill me" and carefully untied the gown, keeping his hands as far from her skin as possible. Which wasn't very far, since he was literally undressing her.

Aelin was still wearing her bra and underwear beneath the gown, and because she wanted to have a little fun, she let the gown drop to the floor instead of holding it up to herself. Rowan emitted a strangled cough and wheezed behind her. She smirked. "Is something wrong, Whitethorn?"

"Nothing," he grunted through clenched teeth. "Where are your clothes?"

"On the chair. Hand me my pants, please." He did, and she pulled on her slacks. "Blouse." The blouse was a little more trouble. Aelin got it halfway on and stopped, unable to wrangle her sling arm into the unbuttoned blouse. "Shit."

"Here." Unexpectedly, Rowan had picked up her sweater and draped it over her injured arm, careful to keep his touch light. He let her slip her good arm into the other sleeve, then buttoned the three big buttons on the front of the loose sweater. "Does that help?"

"Yes." She flashed him a small, hesitant grin. "Thanks."

He clutched his chest. "Polite words from Aelin Galathynius? What world is this?"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be a jackass, Whitethorn, just let me grab my purse and we can get the hell out of here."

"Not so fast." He snatched her purse before she could reach it. "Are you supposed to be carrying this?"

"I still have one good arm," she sighed. "Give it to me." He raised one pale brow in disbelief. "Yes, Whitethorn, I can carry my purse. It's not too heavy for the limit they gave me."

Satisfied with that answer, he handed her her purse and held the door open as she walked out. "I'm parked kind of far away," he admitted as they left the ER building. "Couldn't find a closer spot."

"It's okay," she reassured him. "It's my arm that's injured, not my legs."

Her traitorous legs chose that very moment to wobble, betraying her strong façade.

"Mhmm," Rowan drawled, a smirk curving his lips.

She scowled. "Shut it."

He mumbled something indecipherable and, without warning, lifted her off her feet. "We'll actually get somewhere if I don't have to put up with your toddling," he teased.

Aelin's mouth dropped open. "Toddling?!"

His smirk grew. "Tell me you weren't as unsteady as a toddler and I'll call you a liar, Ae." The nickname fell from his lips as easily as his dry sarcasm.

"You're horrid," she grumbled, folding her arms.

"And look at that, we're already at my car!" he announced, triumphant. She sighed and let him help her into the passenger seat.

As they headed down the streets towards downtown Doranelle, Rowan flicked a glance over at her. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened?"

"Remember the accident that blocked up half of downtown earlier this afternoon?" she asked. He nodded. "I was in the taxi that got hit."

If he hadn't been driving, he would have stopped in his tracks. "You--what?"

"Rowan." Instinctively, she reached over and placed her good hand on his forearm. "I'm okay. It wasn't a huge crash."

"It wasn't--Aelin, do you know what happened at that intersection?"

"I remember my taxi getting hit."

His throat bobbed. "The driver that hit your taxi skidded on black ice and T-boned another vehicle. It was...it was bad."

She gasped. "I had no idea."

"Of course not," he murmured. "You were injured, Ae." He shifted one hand off the steering wheel so he could wrap it around her good hand. "There were some serious injuries, but everyone made it to the hospital in time and it seems like they're all stable. Police arrested the driver for DUII and reckless driving." His thumb rubbed across the back of her hand. "It's been all over the news and social media."

"I had no idea," she repeated, softly. "I...I'm glad everyone seems to be okay." She leaned back into the seat and was quiet for the rest of the drive back to her hotel.

At the hotel, Rowan surprised her again by parking, helping her out of the car, and grabbing a small duffle bag from the backseat of his car before accompanying her inside.

"What are you doing?" she hissed under her breath as he walked beside her to the elevator, his steadying hand on her lower back.

"I've been given orders to see you safely home," he drawled, mirth lighting his eyes.

She frowned. "I'm at my hotel, in case you haven't noticed."

He nodded. "You are. And I'm going to make sure you get to your room safe and sound."

"You going to pat me on the head and tuck me into bed, too?" she griped.

"Oh, I wouldn't mind putting you to bed, Aelin," he whispered into her ear. The heat concealed in his lazy words barreled down her spine, awakening a part of her that had absolutely no business being so active when she was supposed to be resting and recovering.

She stepped out of the elevator before Rowan and led him down the hall to her room, where she stopped, took a deep breath, and pressed her key card to the lock. The small screen flashed green, the door unlocked, and with her hand on the half-open door, Aelin turned to face Rowan, her calm voice belying her thundering heart.

"Stay with me, Ro?"

More emotions than she could count flashed across his face. He followed her into the hotel room, closed the door, and leaned himself against the door frame, resting the weight of his gaze on her.

"I'd love to."

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

[deadandwalking]

Hellooo, it's me, coming to yap about my ocs.

Thought I'd start with my most recent one (created literally two days ago)

So I very much hope you know about Venom and Eddie, for the context of Symbiotes and them bonding with humans. But hey quick explaination either way.

Symbiotes are aliens, when not with a human host they're blobs with eyes basicially. They can live inside a human, bonding with them, to support themselves. They can still manifest their goop to aid their human, eg. making a shield to protect them from a fall. They can talk telepathy when not manifesting their head. Fun little guys!

My oc is named Sasha, she's currently 17 and an orphan! Her parents died when she was 9 and she still has nightmares about them, while she's no longer actively grieving them, she still misses them.

She was in the system for 3 years until she was adopted by a lesbian couple. The two of them always wanted children, they originally wanted to wait a bit longer until they had more time, but most of their family members and some friends always pestered them about not being able to have children if they're with another women (along with some insults, yikes). So they finally had enough and decided to just adopt early, both fullfilling their dream of having a kid and shutting those people up. Wonderful right?

Nope, they didn't have a lot of time to spend raising Sasha, especially when one of them got a promotion and was expected to put in more hours than before. Sasha was at that point still grieving and deeply unhappy. She was self isolating and would've been a difficult child for even well experienced parents. Her adoptive mothers tried to help her, sending her to therapy, but when that only helped a bit and with how expensive therapy is, they stopped sending her after a year. And kind of avoided talking about her issues, mostly pretending that everything was fine.

Sasha hated it, she was growing very resentful and avoided them whenever she could, her grades dropped and after a couple more years of stewing inside mostly, she started loitering around in alleys, starting trouble, fires included.

When she turned 16 she started doing odd jobs and jumping from part time jobs, due to her attitude she never held a job for long, but worse yet since the years went well for the couple and they had more time and money now, they decided to adopt another kid. To truly experience parenting how "it should've been".

Sasha resents them even more and while she tries not to hold it against her now little brother she's incredibly jelouse of him. The couple dote on him and treat him very well meanwhile they look as Sasha as an embarassment, a rebelliouse teen that isn't willing to grow out of their "phase".

Sasha has a lot of issues, buried emotions, trauma and crimes she's done (mostly just vandalism, destruction of property and smaller cases of arson). One day when she was smashing bottles with her bat she found something.

An alien, it seemed hurt and she kneeled down to see if it was alright. The symbiote was kinda dying and bonded with Sasha immediately to stop that.

They fought a bit at first, Sasha didn't want to share her body with an alien, though agreed to at least stay bonded untill the symbiote wasn't injured anymore.

They introduced themseves, the symbiote's name is Berry and Sasha very quickly realized how lonely she had been before. Now she had at least someone to talk with whenever she needed to and Berry was surprisingly nice and Sasha liked to teach them about human stuff.

After a week or two Berry said that they'd be fine to leave now, but Sasha made up an excuse for the alien to stay, not wanting to lose what had been their first close 'friend'. For Sasha it was a bit strange to call an alien a friend so quickly, but she grew attached to Berry very quickly and Berry also genuinely cared for her. Something that Sasha thought of as a first for her.

I'ma leave it at here for now, I'm starting to get a headache too so more will come tomorrow, when I hopefully feel better haha.

Here's some drawings of them, the designs are mostly set, though I'm still figuring out colors. -w-

wow this is really cool!! Berry’s really cute :)

and i feel sorry for Sasha :( being the “problem child” is super damaging. i hope she gets a happy ending D:

[sevicia]

My mom's started to notice how obedient I am to my sister and it's humiliating. "Why do you let her speak to you like that? You always listen to her instead of me" it's obvious now because that day they thought I was dying I only moved once my sister yelled at me, and I barely remember any of it.

It's humiliating because it's a reflex. It's not like I don't have my own will, it's not like it's weak, it's just that I can't go against her without feeling like I'll be punished for throwing a tantrum. That feeling overrides everything else.

I have no idea what I'd do if my mom ever asked me directly about it, because I know she'd blame her. I guess it started because of her, but that means they'd start fighting like crazy again and my sister would start feeling like our parents don't care about her again. Maybe telling my mom would help me feel better somehow, maybe it'd help start fixing things even though it seems impossible, but the possibility of both her and our dad turning against my sister is more than enough for me to avoid talking about it as much as possible.

There's also the fact that everyone's just gonna call me a coward and a pushover for never being able to stand up to her. I guess that's true, but it's still awful to think about being seen for what I am in such an explicit way.

Frustrating because I know for a fact it's my fault I still feel like this today. I mean, I'm better than I was 1 or 2 years ago, back then I agreed with everything she said and hid anything I thought might make her dislike me because I felt like the scum of the earth every time she got annoyed or called me stupid. I couldn't help bawling my eyes out, which I've never been able to do properly since we've always shared a room, I'm always quiet. I really wish I could just cry like a kid even just once, but I don't think I'll ever be able to.

It's my fault that I'm still like this because changing is on me. It's something no one else can ever do for me, but I'm so deep in it I know I'll die like this. I know other people have had way worse relationships with their siblings when they were kids, and they're nowhere near this level of messed up about it. I don't think "I didn't have it THAT bad" is a valid excuse, but I do think I should've gotten over it already. I just never noticed how sensitive I was because I've always had to be so quiet.

I hate that I'm like this because of something I should've gotten over by now. I hate that I can't tell anyone, but most of all I hate that I can't say it to her face because I love her so much. She's cried while telling me about how sorry she is and how guilty she feels for messing up my childhood like that, so I tell her it's okay. I don't feel okay about it, but I can't ever blame her for any of it since we were both kids. She doesn't know just how much it's affected me, whatever effect she thinks she had on me is not nearly comparable to how I've felt my whole life.

I tell her it's fine. What else am I gonna tell her? I've seen her cry out of guilt. I couldn't live with myself if I ever made her cry like that again. I resent her so much, I can't help it. It's so ugly. I have these moments where I wish she'd just die, that she'd just disappear from my life and my head one day, then I'd be free to act on my own, but thinking that way just makes me hate myself even more. It's just so disgusting, I can't stand it.

I'm going to die feeling like this. It will never leave me. I can't let it go, I don't know what'd happen if I tried. I don't want her to ever worry about anything. The way people treat her sometimes makes me sick. The way she talks to me most of the time makes me wanna vomit.

She loves me, I don't doubt this for a second. If she ever found out I feel like this, she'd call me an idiot for not telling her sooner. I can't stand the thought of that. I hate it when people do that, I don't understand it and I doubt I ever will. I don't understand why it's so important that I report on what I'm feeling whenever someone wants to "help" me, based on their own metrics. It doesn't do any good. If I said any of this out loud, I'd just start crying and make it look like it's the most horrible thing to ever happen to anyone, I just don't see the point. It achieves nothing. Feeling better is not guaranteed, and even if it was it would still amount to nothing.

I hate crying because it just feels so pathetic. I don't think it makes me weak or anything like that, it's just embarrassing to act so dramatic, especially when I'm known to never cry unless it's from laughing or watching a movie or a show or something like that. It's shallow, but I'm also aware of how much more repulsive I look when I cry. I looked in the mirror once while I cried, and the disgust made me stop, wash my face and go back to being a normal person immediately. It was different to how my stomach usually drops when I see my face. It felt like something was actually wrong with my body.

[psychoticallytrans]

I'm in a mood tonight.

Let me tell you my oldest story, one I've had told to me as long as I can remember. It's a disjointed one, told in fits and starts and anecdotes. It starts shortly after I was born.

The first thing that worried my parents was that when I tried to cry, I didn't make a sound. I turned purple from the effort of it, and couldn't get anything out. People brushed it off, mostly, saying that it was normal for babies to cry themselves purple. My pediatrician humored my parents, and poked around me a bit. Found an enlarged liver, and sent for a scan.

Turns out, my heart wasn't quite fully formed, and one part of the main pipe leading out, the aorta, was still stuck to the intake pipe. Blood was building up in my heart. By the time I'd have surgery, at one month old, it would grow to collapse one of my lungs. That surgery started being arranged the minute the scans came back.

My parents asked what the hospital would have done if they'd refused the surgery. The surgeon replied that they would have taken my parents to court. The surgery was a clear cut case where I would die if it didn't happen, and I had about a good chance to live if it was done. I was one of the lucky babies.

They understood, once they saw the other babies in my ward. Every infant that was there in the cardiac unit when I arrived was there when I was discharged. All my problem needed was splitting the tubes properly and patching them. The other babies, they needed more than one surgery.

I'm the only one of my siblings who was baptized. Neither of my parents are religious people. My Christian grandparents were so terrified that I was going to die before I got to make a choice that they asked my parents to get me baptized just in case. My parents didn't see how it would hurt, so they did.

My parents didn't process how bad things were until the nurse asked for the milk to be pumped for a feeding tube. They didn't want me spending calories on suckling. If I'd been a week later, they said, I wouldn't be alive.

The surgery took hours. The surgeon came out of the room smiling.

I have a seven inch scar on my chest, these days. Runs straight up and down the middle. Easiest way to the heart is to crack open the ribcage, after all. Used it as show and tell in elementary til I got old enough for teachers to tell me off for it. I muse sometimes that it'd make a good song lyric, or line of a poem, that I was born with a broken heart. It works just fine these days, if with a bit more scar tissue than average. That may well make a good line too.

I draw different things from this story, depending on what I need. Sometimes, I need the reminder that there are people in this world, like that surgeon, that will move heaven and earth for one sick baby, even if that baby has no other significance than it's a sick baby and needs help they can give. Sometimes, I need to remember that when there's something wrong, like how I couldn't cry right, deciding that it's normal is a terrible answer. Sometimes, I need the reminder that there's people sicker than me, like the other babies who were all there before and after me, and that just because I got what I needed doesn't make them less sick.

Sometimes, before I got a med that worked for my bipolar, there were long nights where I needed the reminder that if that didn't kill me, hell if I'll let anything else do it- including my own brain.

There is one thing that never leaves me about this story: I couldn't do it alone. There was no way for me to survive without intervention. There was no way for me to get intervention without someone else noticing what was wrong. All I could do was fail to cry. Someone noticed, and someone helped. And that's why I got to see the end of the year, and all the years after.

I suppose that's why I'm telling this story. It's gotten me through hard times. If there's anything you can take from it, feel free. That's what stories are for.

[noah-moth-cursed-chaos]

Delphine was idly preparing for events to come when she heard Azaril Avalaron reenter the secret room.

She turned to see if he actually looked presentable enough to enter a sophisticated establishment and-

Well.

He cleaned up well.

It even looked like he'd shaved.

He still needed to do something with all that damn hair however. Don't get her wrong it doesn't look bad, there was a certain appeal to it. But. It'd get in his face while he was fighting and this would already be dangerous enough.

"So? Am I up to your standards?" He asked, giving the outfit a little spin.

"The outfit looks decent on you, but your hair needs work." She stated.

"What's wrong with my hair?" He sounded affronted, "I like my hair."

"It looks nice, but if you're found out, you're going to need to be able to fight without it in your eyes. You'll already be fighting at closer quarters than you're used to, it's best not to put yourself at any further of a disadvantage."

"I'll put it in a ponytail then." He said, turning towards the stairs, likely to grab a hairtie from his other clothing.

"Sit down."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm doing your hair, Avalaron, sit down."

"On the floor?"

"Or go back upstairs and sit on my bed, your choice. But I'm doing your hair."

"... Fine." He went upstairs and she followed. He sat on the edge of her bed, and she kicked off her shoes, grabbed her brush, and sat behind him.

There was silence between the two for a couple minutes, before Delphine decided to take this rare... Calm moment to maybe get to know her most valuable ally a little better.

"So, what draws someone like you to the thieve's guild anyway?"

"I told you, I'm not part of that anymore."

"Yeah but, why were you? I'm not attacking you, Azaril. I'm curious." She didn't often call him his first name, but maybe it'd make him feel less defensive, for once.

"... It's. A stupid story."

"I want to hear it. We have nothing better to talk about."

He went silent for a moment before, "I uhm... I was found as a baby on the doorstep of Honorhall Orphanage." Oh she didn't know his whole life story was involved. Well. Might as well take her sweet time doing his hair then. "I never had any idea who my parents were, or why they didn't want me. I stopped caring eventually, if they never cared enough to reach out why should I care enough to look I guess... But uhm... I was. The only elf at the orphanage." There was a slight pause, "... I. Got used to watching the other kids outgrow me I guess? They ended up adults and I was barely older. New kids would end up there, they'd either get adopted or age out, and then they'd find their own lives, probably somewhere far from Riften."

"... And leave you behind?"

"... Yeah." His voice was softer, it wasn't the same exactly, but she did know the pain of being the last one standing. She could almost imagine over decades, again and again, Azaril saying goodbye to people he knew wouldn't remember him as much as he would them.

It had to be a lonely childhood.

"When I was uh. 40 I think, Grelod the Kind took over the orphanage... She doesn't deserve the name, let's just say."

"So I've heard."

"Whatever you heard, she's probably worse than the stories." He chuckled, pausing, "... It. Sucked. There were a couple other kids there at the time who I had been really close with, but most of them were close to aging out. I was particularly close with this one guy, I remember the week before he left he swore to me he was going to find a way to take me with him. I didn't believe him at the time."

"But he did?"

"He managed to get a letter to me, told me that if I could find the thieve's guild and manage to convince them I was grown, I'd have a roof over my head and a job." Azaril said, "... At the time I had a pretty extreme baby face, and nobody in charge believed for a second I was an adult. But they let me stay, had me do cleaning and stuff to earn my keep, and taught me how to be a thief." He took a deep breath, "The uh-leader and second are probably the closest thing to parents I ever had."

Delphine went silent for a moment, before, softly, "That must have hurt to walk away from."

"I didn't want to." He mumbled, "I got chased out. The leader died and the second went missing and well-the third took over and he... I think he had something to do with the leader's death, he said the second was responsible but I at least don't think she acted alone if she was... And he realized I was onto him." He paused, "I... Ran to Solstheim for a while to get away... Came back... I dunno, to try and start a new life? Find a home? I've failed pretty miserably, clearly."

She went silent for a moment, staring at the now finished braid.

Her voice was softer when she spoke again, she hadn't previously realized just how alone the dragonborn must be. Somehow you'd expect someone with a title like that to have it all figured out, but he was just as afraid and isolated as she was.

"You could have a home here."

Azaril laughed bitterly, "Don't lie to me, Delphine."

"You could. If we manage to put a stop to the dragons so there's a world to have a home in, but you could. Riverwood isn't anything grand, it's certainly no place for a thief but. You're not a thief anymore. And you could be a blade, I think. Just put down the bottle a bit more often."

"... Thank you."

"How does the braid feel? Did I make it too tight?"

"No, it's nice." He got up, "I guess I have a party to crash, huh?" She gave a curt nod.

"Stay safe, Azaril."

[wyntereyez]

I think this is the last scream into the void before I have a post about myself. Part Five is about my siblings. Well, mostly my sister, the golden child.

I actually don't have much to say about my siblings. I love them, I sometimes want to kill them, and for the most part, we get along.

Even my half siblings, who I actually don't refer to as my half siblings but have only been doing so for the sake of making it easier to differentiate them here without using names. It wasn't always like that. I was jealous of them for getting the attention I wasn't, and I mostly ignored them, but sometime was cruel (not horribly cruel, but I wasn't nice.) Thankfully, I got over that before they were old enough to notice, and we get along really well.

I also have surprisingly few problems with my brother. You'd think my Dad's only son would get more privileges than anyone else, and sometimes it felt like it, but those privileges weren't favoritism. For example, I had my own room, and my brother and sister shared one. Eventually, my sister was moved into my room, which I hated. But I get it. Hell, I even know that it's a CPS offense to have a boy and girl sharing a room after a certain age. I wasn't happy, but I got it. And when my brother started getting the front seat of the Chevy S-10 and I was stuck in the back...well, he's 6'. He literally could not fit. Again, I get it, and the problem was eventually solved with new vehicles, but it still sucked. About the only problem I've truly had with my brother was when we had an apartment together and he had trouble taking turns doing dishes. I blame this on my Dad; my brother wasn't used to actually doing dishes because I was always doing them.

And then there's my sister.

She was four when my parents divorced. Because she'd had so little time with our mother, she seemed to adapt the easiest. Also, she was a Daddy's Girl, so she was fine because she had her favorite parent.

Unfortunately, because my Dad wanted to minimize her trauma, she was spoiled. She got the most presents, she got to do the most school activities, she didn't have to do chores until much, much later... When we had our Evil Step Monster, I think she handled it better because she didn't grow up being constantly yelled at, and wasn't afraid to be stubborn.

She never got grounded for standing up to That Woman.

And unfortunately, she still expects people to just do things for her, while not being so good about reciprocating. Things include:

One Christmas, she nagged and nagged and nagged at me to buy her a certain expensive present that she needed now, rather than wait until my next paycheck. She assured me she'd get me a present in return. She didn't.

She wouldn't let me in the bedroom when I was visiting from college. I had no bedroom in the house since they'd basically moved me out entirely when I went to stay on campus. Which meant that I was basically limited to the living room, kitchen, and bathroom during my home visits. I had no place to hide from That Woman.

When my sister got married, she called me to ask if I had money for 'the dress.' I had no clue WTF she was talking about, and when I asked, she said, "Well, you're gonna be a bridesmaid, you know." No, actually, I didn't. Because you didn't ask me.

Like my Dad, she expected me to drop everything and come watch her house and dogs whenever she and her husband went somewhere. She made it sound like she was the one doing me a favor by letting me watch Netflix. A couple of times, I was working somewhere an hour and a half drive's away. She still expected me to watch the dogs with zero compensation despite the long drive.

She completely ignores my issues. I mentioned once that was looking for a new job because I'd had an anxiety attack working retail. She immediately tried to get me to apply for a job that required me to sit at a desk and talk to people all day, a job that would cause major anxiety issues. When I told her no, she got annoyed because she was 'just trying to help.'

She's very protective of our Dad. From things she says, she seems to have this impression that I'm the spoiled one that got everything I ever wanted and whenever I asked for help, I was using him. Yeah, that's not how I remember it.

Her help is very conditional. Remember the fiasco with my brother's wedding? Where I didn't have a lot of cash, and she assured me she'd help, and even picked out a flight that fit her schedule for pick-up and drop-off. It was at an airport an hour away, rather than the much closer one I'd originally planned to fly into, and she was the only one who'd be able to get me. I doublechecked with her before buying the ticket. And then she started changing things on me, telling me she couldn't drive me to the wedding we were both going to, telling me she might not be able to drop me off at the airport, telling me that actually, no, I couldn't stay with her after all and I needed to find a hotel in three days or she definitely wouldn't pick me up and drop me off. This is why I canceled. Even my Dad was pissed at her for this.

She's also very controlling. Last year, I had been considering going to California for fun. My sister immediately said I should come visit instead. It would be cheaper! You know, spend my money to go back to the place I escaped from, where I didn't have fun. And I'd have to stay at a hotel. Preferably one with a pool, so she could bring her boys to swim! So this 'cheaper' vacation would have been me in a hotel in an area with very little to do, waiting for her to visit on her own time, probably renting a car because that would be the ONLY way to get anywhere. And even then, there's nothing in that area I haven't seen a million times, so leaving the hotel wouldn't even be worth it.

Ahem, anyway... Being far away from family is very good for me.

[bilboyagathechickenfootedhobbit]

(on my suspiciously empty side acc because anons are off and i don't need anything remotely personal connected to main) you seem like someone who may not mind teenagers asking for advice, lol. so: you mentioned in a post that the hair on your head is shorter than on your arms and legs. made me incredibly jealous. i've been wanting to buzz mine for ages. i keep chickening out. it's already very short and generally non-standard but it feels like a step too far, yk? i was joking with my parents about a girl i'd just met who turned to me while nobody was looking and did an inquisitive limp wrist gesture at me. i stared at her for a minute, shocked to see such a tiktok-ified (on a young woman) mannerism (i deleted it months ago but it still haunts me) out in real life, and then nodded, because what else was i gonna do? only seen her in passing since. anyway, we were laughing. obviously, the fact that she thought to do it came up. i can't remember the exchange in detail, but my mom was saying something about how you can have short hair and wear, idk, frills and barrettes, and be [trailed off]- or you can wear "boy shorts" (my shorts) and no bra (it was in my own fucking house) and be [trailed off again, i believe]. my dad said something about how my appearance was "not exactly lipstick lesbian". this is nothing against my parents. they're awesome. they're not really the point. point is, despite being 5'5 and not exactly androgynous in various ways, i pretty regularly get mistaken for male- usually by restaurant staff or other people who have no reason to pay attention or barely glance my way, but it happens often enough to be significant. those who look at me a little longer have so far a) defaulted to they/themming me without asking (or even after asking, when i'd already said i wasn't trans), b) carefully deduced from what i said that i wasn't trans and then gone with it (digging probably much more obviously than they'd intended to) or, c) been too old for all that. i am not transgender. i was dysphoric, i got over it except for during the nights of all-round bad days, i'm fine now. i am, as far as i can tell, homosexual (family knows this). this isn't exactly something i want to advertise. it's apparently my only option, since the disdain i feel towards all female beauty rituals (and the cuts of 99% of womens' clothing- jesus christ) is too strong to even consider partaking, but i'd really rather i lived in a slightly saner world where i didn't stick out so much. the hair itself is extremely minor, obviously. it's hair. but it's the last bit of my appearance that is, in any way, decorated. this is not out of a lack of self esteem or something. it's just that the decorating grates on me. even earrings, most of the time, identical to the ones my brothers wear. i mostly like the hair. what i don't like is that it has to be cut every couple of months, and really that's too much time to grow- i have to actively set aside time to wash and style it- when it's grown out a bit i have to keep touching it and thinking about it or it'll get in my eyes. i am so very sick of everything impractical, but it feels like my last line of plausible deniability. if it, my last bit of decoration, is gone (which, note, will not be a win for my facial structure, not that i really care), instead of just odd looks from strangers i'm going to get knowing chuckles from relatives who think i'm... politically identifying into something. even, yk, the homosexual bit, which i never needed to "identify" into. "butches" are women i look up to like nobody else, but i'm not trying to join anyone's ranks. i'm just trying to exist. i'm sending this because i'm almost definitely blowing the consequences out of proportion and you seem like a very intelligent woman who's done already exactly what i'm considering. so, if you read all that, thank you, and thank you again if you're going to respond. your blog is incredible.

Hey, so sorry about how long it’s taken me to respond. I really wanted to make sure I gave this the attention it deserves.

So, you are correct that you’re probably blowing the consequences of this out of proportion, BUT, that really only holds true when you have enough distance and perspective from the act, which you do not have, being in the thick of it currently.

See, when I was younger I was the brash, loud “I don’t give a fuck” teenager. And I tried so, so, SO hard to truly embody that mentality, and maybe I tricked the people around me into thinking I didn’t care but I did. I originally buzzed my hair when the friend cutting my hair kept messing it up and making it shorter and shorter. I laughed it off and grabbed the clippers and we all joked, but I worried what everyone was going to think the next day. Everyone at our small school was already convinced my BFF and I were lesbian witches, a buzzed head would just make me out to be the “pants” in the relationship.

I stopped shaving early on in my first adult relationship and practically dared my boyfriend to say something. I stated I didn’t care what he thought, I wasn’t shaving ever again, but deep down, if he had said it grossed him out, I probably would have shaved. Not right then, but eventually.

Through so many ages and chapters of my life I have raged at the world that I didn’t care what anyone thought, I was going to do the thing regardless. And I always did, even when there was a secret part of me that felt like I’d cave in a heartbeat if even one person smirked the wrong way at me. Because I did care.

And then I turned 40 and I truly stopped caring with a suddenness and totality that, quite frankly, shocked me. All those years I had told myself I didn’t care and then I found myself REALLY AND FUCKING TRULY not caring, and it made all my declarations of “I don’t care!!” seem laughably weak in hindsight.

The point I’m trying to make here is: you just have to do the thing. It’s not going to be easy necessarily, but if you talk yourself out of it, you set a precedence. It’s literally fake it til you make it, and I didn’t get it until I actually finally made it. When I made it, I realized that all the times I set my jaw and stubbornly pushed my way through the fear of judgement, the fear of other peoples assumptions, each time I did that, I was laying the foundation for the next step, and the one after that. I was still anxious and worried, and I’m never going to say those are minor emotions. I remember the social pressure to conform, the whispering cliques and their sneaky looks over their shoulders. I remember how hard it is to buck normalcy and swim against the current. But I also look at my life now and know it would never have been even half this good if I had acquiesced and succumbed to the pressure to look a certain way.

You will always look exactly like you. People will look at you and ascribe different personality traits to you based on their own preconceived notions. There is nothing you can do about that. You may as well be what you want to be. I have been called so many things that I am not, from a lesbian to a boy to a hippie to a fucking Juggalette, none of which I am. And that’s fine. People will think what they think. The best part about fully embracing living the way you want to is that it will draw likeminded people to you. People who look at you and go “I really like that girls buzzed head” and not “that persons buzzed head must mean they’re trans/nb.” You’ll have friends that will rub your fuzzy scalp for good luck and call you their good luck charm. You’ll meet women who admire your bravery in not conforming. One of the things that has always surprised me is the amount of “normal looking” women that confide in me that they wish they could give up shaving, performing femininity, styling their hair, etc, and I always tell them the same thing: you can. It’s not easy, but the choice is always there.

I think other women look at the way I dress and act and think “oh I could NEVER do that, I’d be too scared!” And the secret? I’m scared too. Or I was, at first, and for a long time. I started eschewing femininity in my late teens. It took me another 2+ decades to truly stop caring. The sooner you start though, the sooner you’ll get there.

And again, people will always make their own assumptions about you. They will always perceive you through the lens of their own experiences and you cannot change that and it’s a waste of your time to worry about it. You’ll still worry about it because we’re human, but you have to start practicing not giving a shit. It’s the only way to get to a point where you truly don’t give a shit.

And hey. The cool thing about hair? It grows back. And if you buzz your head and are like “oh my god what have I done?” Wigs exist. If you’ve experienced dysphoria in the past and are worried about buzzing your head resurfacing those feelings, use a wig. I kept a few handy for when I worked at a doctors office and couldn’t rock my wild hairstyles. It can take time to feel comfortable in your natural body with non-conforming looks, and it would be better to use a wig as a temporary crutch than to succumb to feelings of dysphoria.

I know it’s so hard to buck normalcy as a teenager. Everything seems so….consequential. Like every decision you make right now is going to impact you for the rest of your life. That’s not true. I made massive fuckups as late as my 30’s and I have still been able to course correct and make things better. The decisions I made as a teen, especially aesthetic choices, have absolutely zero bearing on my life today. So while I will never minimize your fears (because what you feel is very real, even if it won’t matter in the long run) I will also tell you that the fears I had about acceptance in my teens have faded to the point where I look back and think how bizarre it was that I was so stressed over something that ultimately mattered so little.

High school and our teen years are a Petri dish inside a pressure cooker. It’s a time in your life that is like no other, thankfully. You’ll get older and you’ll meet people who look at you and see you for who you are, not just what they want you to be based on their own perception of you. You’ll meet people who don’t bat an eye at your shaved head and nonconformity. You’ll meet people who also think performing femininity is stupid and a waste of time.

All this to say, do what you truly want to do and don’t worry about what others think. When it comes to you and your body, your opinion is the only one that matters. Anyone who says otherwise can fuck right off into my fist.

-Bilbo

P.S. my best friends mom, who is now my son’s grandma, is a butch lesbian and the first woman I knew to shave her head. She did it to support her sister in law going through chemo, but found that she so enjoyed never having to wash her hair that she kept it shaved for years. She always told people she got tired of spending money on shampoo and they’d be like “Ah, of course” and we’d just laugh. I was lucky to have an adult woman like that in my life so that when I shaved my head, I knew it wasn’t THAT weird. I wish every young girl had a woman like her in their life; it would make it so much easier to break the bonds of beauty culture.

[duhragonball]

Neon Genesis Evangelion 07

Yeah, me neither, kid. Kind of weird that we're seven episodes in and we still don't know anything. I'm a little concerned, honestly.

This is another Misato episode. Actually, this one might be even more of a Misato episode than the last one, which is fine by me. This show had some trouble getting out of the gate, but now we're cooking. Cooking toast, that is, because that's what Shinji and Misato have for breakfast every morning. Wait... I misread my notes. Shinji has toast. Misato gets toasted. On beer.

No, wait, she's having toast too! Good, that explains why she has that second beer after Shinji leaves for school. Gotta wash it down. Shinji expresses disapproval for her slovenly, beer-swilling lifestyle, which is a big change from when he just passively agreed with everything she said. Misato is pleased that he's gotten more comfortable expressing himself lately.

Shinji is also embarassed at the prospect of Misato going to his school for some parent-teacher conference thing. Misato is essentially his guardian at this point, even though his actual dad is Misato's boss. I guess he would have signed off on this, since it seems clear he doesn't care.

All the boys at school think she's the coolest thing ever. She's a sexy lady and she's the NERV Ops Director. Shinji acts like they'd see her differently if they knew what she was like at home, but they don't care. Suzuhara and Big Rigg Mahoney are like "you keep the Earth safe, and we'll take care of Misato." Big Rigg Mahoney knows what's up. If I had me a freak like Misato, I think I could learn to live with empty beer cans. The penguin droppings might be a problem, but I think I'd get over it every night if you know what I mean.

We don't get a lot of information on the Evas in this one, but I'll go over what we do get. They're making more of them. Ritsuko and Misato talk in an elevator about the repairs on 00 and 01, and they speak of Unit 02 like it'll be along any day now. On a plane ride, Gendo Ikari speaks of Units 06 and 08, so there's plans to manufacture even more of them, though finding pilots seems to be the main hurdle.

Shinji also learns about Second Impact, the event that changed the world so much. First Impact was the hypothetical collision of the Earth with a protoplanet called Theia, which led to the formation of the Earth's Moon. Second Impact is widely known to be a meteor collision with Antarctica. According to the test in this screenshot, the meteor was only 4 inches wide, but it was traveling at 95% the speed of light, making the impact powerful enough to destroy Antarctica and cause upheavals that wiped out half of the world's population.

However, Misato tells Shinji that it wasn't actually a meteor at all, but the First Angel. It came to Earth on September 13, 2000, then exploded for some unknown reason, taking Antarctica with it.

NERV's mission, then, is to prevent a Third Impact. The Angels are still showing up on Earth, and if another one self-destructs in the same fashion, then it could cause even more devasation. So the only chance humanity has it to kill the things before they get the chance to explode.

Just to recap, we met the third Angel in Episode 1, and it self-destructed in Episode 2, but Shinji had nearly defeated it by that point, so maybe that's why it didn't produce the same destructive force as the first. And we met the fourth and fifth Angels in Episodes 3 and 5. No word yet on the second Angel, but it must have shown up in 2000, since everyone in Episode 1 talks about how there hadn't been an Angel sighting in fifteen years. It's also not clear how it was defeated, since Eva units weren't available for combat missions then.

My guess is that the second angel was susceptible to conventional weapons. That's my working theory on these things. Whatever they're up to, they seem to adapt and get more dangerous each time. The first one blew up shortly after it arrived on Earth, which might have been an accident, or some bad reaction to Earth's environment. The second one must have been killed by humans, which demonstrated that it could be done and it was a viable way to stop them from exploding.

The third angel was impervious to conventional weapons, requiring an Eva to defeat it. The fourth one... was basically the same deal, which is why Episode 3 kind of sucks. The fifth one targeted and disabled the Eva before it could get in range, requiring two Evas and a new-fangled weapon to defeat it. So the sixth one will probably be even harder to stop, which is why Gendo Ikari is trying to convince the U.N. to increase NERV's budget.

Meanwhile, Misato and Ritsuko are headed for Old Tokyo, where the Strategic Self-Defense Force are holding a demonstration. The SSDF are the guys who had that positron cannon Misato borrowed for her hail Mary play in Episode 6. Old Tokyo was destroyed in the chaos that followed Second Impact, but I guess someone decided to build a convention center out here on the remains.

I'm pretty sure the SSDF is just a continuation of the real-world Japanese Self Defense Force, but in this show they're mainly focused on finding ways to defend against the Angels, just like NERV. I mean, I guess that makes sense, given how the last three Angel attacks have been on Japanese soil. And their positron cannon did the trick, so they're not exactly bad at this sort of thing. This time, they're unveiling a new weapon, which is their own giant robot, Jet Alone.

NERV was invited to attend the ceremony, and Ritsuko takes the opportunity to question the premise of Jet Alone. It's powered by an on-board nuclear reactor, and it has no pilot. Everything is done by remote control, which seems like a really bad idea if they lose connection with the thing and the reactor melts down.

The SSDF guy laughs off her concerns, and attacks the Evangelion robots instead. They're powered by electrical cables, which is kind of impractical, and their pilots are subjected to intense stress and suffer mental instability. Also, the Evas are incredibly expensive, and every time the world increases NERV's budget, there's less money to care for the humanity they're trying to save.

So Jet Alone seems like a perfect solution. The tech is cheaper, there's no pilot to put in harm's way, and I guess they think it can hold its own in a fight, although that remains to be seen.

Misato keeps her cool at the dinner but gets furious afterward. By contrast...

Ritsuko calmly assures Misato that Jet Alone is nothing to worry about, as she burns one of the handouts they got at the dinner.

I'm pretty sure Ritsuko is awesome, but she really hasn't done a lot in this show other than provide exposition. She's practically the narrator in a lot of scenes, but damn. She can burn my papers anytime.

Soon enough, it's time to see Jet Alone in action. He looks a little primitive compared to the Evas, but I don't know, this thing kind of reminds me of Big O. I could see it getting its own show.

All they really do with it is have it walk forward, but for some reason they can't get it to stop, so it just keeps going and steps on the SSDF's control center.

And that's basically Jet Alone's whole deal. It just keeps walking in this same direction. Also its nuclear reactor is experiencing a pressure buildup, so yeah, this is turning out exactly like Ritsuko predicted at dinner. Maybe a little too exactly...

Anyway, the coolest thing about Jet Alone is its arms, which sort of dangle at its sides like tassels. I assume this is designed so it can wrap its arms around a hostile Angel like an octopus, but when it's just walking like this the arms flop back and forth and it looks adorable. He's just a struttin' and a strollin'.

Misato immediately takes charge, since the thing is headed for Atsugi and its reactor could go critical at any moment. She demands the SSDF give her an emergency shutdown password for the thing, but no one on-site has authorization to do that. So they call the authorities, but none of them want to take the responsibility without a written request. Disgusted, Misato decides to tackle the matter herself, and calls in Shinji and Eva 01.

Her plan is to just get inside JA and shut it down from the inside. For that, she needs a skintight suit to protect her from the radiation, and Eva 01 will get her close enough to the hatch to get inside. Once she's in, Shinji will have to try to hold Jet Alone so it can't move any closer to a populated area.

And Shinji seems to manage this pretty well, except he can't stop the reactor from exploding. That won't hurt Shinji, since the Eva can take it, but he's still worried about Misato, who will definitely be killed if she can't shut JA down.

Misato makes it inside, but the password to shut down the reactor (Hope), doesn't work. There's no time to figure out why that is, so instead she goes for broke and tries to shove the control rods into place manually. At least, I think that's what she's doing.

Fortunately, when she shoves one of them in, the others all retract with it. I'm not sure she knew that would happen, but it works. The red lights turn green, and Jet Alone stands down.

I'll go ahead and say it: This is actually really good fan service, as Misato promised in the preview for this episode. She said that a couple of times before, and never really delivered. I mean, she took a bath in Episode 2, but big deal. Most of the time she's wearing pretty normal clothing, and she's covered from neck to toe. Meanwhile, they keep showing Rei in various states of undress, or in her skintight pilot suit, which is the sort of thing you'd expect from fan service, except Rei's fourteen so that's creepy as hell.

But Misato wearing a skintight costume while she heroically dives into an exploding robot to shove its control rods into place? That's actually pretty sexy. YMMV, of course.

Shinji calls her success a miracle, but Misato is suspicious that it might not be as miraculous as it seems. Someone must have set all this up.

Later, Ritsuko reports on the incident to Gendo Ikari, and she says everything went exactly as planned, save for Misato's daring shutdown of the reactor. So it looks like NERV sabotaged Jet Alone, probably to discredit the SSDF and convince the UN that NERV deserves whatever funding they ask for. And since Misato's role in this was not part of the plan, it sounds like Ikari intended for Jet Alone to explode. That's why the password didn't work.

The only lingering question is whether Gendo intended for Jet Alone to explode in the middle of nowhere, or once it reached a populated area. That I feel the need to ask tells you everything you need to know about Gendo Ikari.

The next day, Suzuhara and Big Rigg Mahoney are still horny for Misato, and Shinji is still trying to convince them that she's not as cool as she seems. He tells them about how sloppy and silly she is at home, and they realize he doesn't know how lucky he is. Shinji's the only one who gets to see that side of her, and that's because Misato allows only him to see it. That means she thinks of him as family.

And there you have it. I guess this is a big eureka moment for Shinji, and maybe it helps him understand why Rei and his dad get along so well. Anyway, the next episode is supposed to have Asuka Langley in it, so maybe we'll finally find out what she's all about...