#it doesn't exactly scream “adult woman”

[the-tenth-arcanum]

I never know what to say when I tell someone my age and they say that I look younger like. I'm not gonna thank you that would be stupid

[rugessnome]

proposition: "A Heart Full of Love" *but make it platonic* and it's Andreas and Magdalene and I think maybe Melancholia sings the Eponine bits (to be about Caspar probably?) or possibly a variation thereon

[yuus-sentient-teddy]

While stuff is going down on Sage's Island, what's happening with some of the families of the NRC students?

S.T.Y.X. probably had to be the ones to tell the families the situation. Even though they explain it as lightly as possible so that there's no major panic, that won't stop the families from worrying.

I thought about Deuce's mom after Malleus casted the spell, when Deuce hasn't called her to talk about his day. Her intuition is telling her that something is amiss, but she tries to brush it off even though Deuce has never missed a call.

She sends a good morning text the following day.

She tries calling him an hour later when there's no response. What if he got sick and that's why he hasn't said anything?

But the call immediately goes to voicemail.

Okay, don't panic. She's sure her son must have forgotten to charge his phone (unlikely, a part of her says) or maybe he's deep asleep from being sick.

Dila debates on whether to call the school. She doesn't want to be overprotective or overbearing. . . and yet her mother's intuition is still screaming at her that something isn't right.

It wouldn't hurt to just be sure, right?

Dila's heart sinks when the call to the school immediately goes to voicemail.

The next chance she gets, Dila drives to the Trappola residence. She starts to feel a little ridiculous when Mrs. Trappola answers the door without a single bit of worry. What if it's nothing? But she still asks if Mrs. Trappola has heard from her son.

Mrs. Trappola shakes her head. "No, but he usually talks with his brother a lot. What's up?"

Dila explains how her son hasn't called or texted her and that the call to the school was unsuccessful. "Hmmm... it could be your phone. Let me try calling."

But the same thing happens--the school doesn't pick up. Dila notices something she missed in the beginning: Mrs. Trappola's stiffness beneath a casual mask. Does Mrs. Trappola also feel like something is wrong?

"Hang on, let me try calling his brother."

He's casual when he picks up and tells his mom that Ace hadn't called him last night. But there is a bit of trepidation when he asks, "Is something going on?"

"No, just checking. I'll call you later." Mrs. Trappola lets out a breath and meets Dila's eyes. Both mothers recognize the look in the other's eyes.

"Do you know Clover Bakery?" Dila asks. "Deuce told me that the son of the family who runs it is in the same dorm as him and Ace."

Mrs. Trappola nods. "Ace mentioned him a few times. Trey."

"I'm going to go over there. Want to come with?"

"Give me a second to get my stuff."

Two worried mothers become three, and they're all sitting around a table in the back of the bakery while a father is with the employees at the front. At this point, it's clear that something has happened to their sons and the school.

The three discuss what to do next. Should they try calling the school again? Reach out to the police station? To another family? How about contacting that Diamond kid's family?

But why stop at this part of the world?

Perhaps a while after the sleeping spell is cast, a little heir is wandering the streets pouting because no one is telling him what is going on.

Something has happened to his uncle, that he knows, but he doesn't know just exactly what.

This little heir may bump into an older woman, a grandmother, who asks why he's wandering around on his own so late in the day. He almost cries in frustration while telling her about the adults not telling him anything about his uncle. He lets slip that his uncle goes to Night Raven College.

That makes the grandmother pause, the uneasy feeling inside of her making itself known once again.

She tells the child that his family might be worried about him and eventually persuades him that going home would be a good idea. She escorts him out of the slums, listening to him talk about his uncle, until some guards find the two.

Before the guards escort the little prince back home, the grandmother asks about Night Raven College. Her grandson is a student there and in the same dorm as Leona Kingscholar. The guards reply with an apology and that they have not heard of an incident at the school.

But she stops them. Surely, they must have heard of something. She doesn't miss the fleeting look in one of the guards' eyes--perhaps that woman has a child who goes there too?

That guard tells her partner to go on ahead, and once the prince and his guard are far enough, she tells the grandmother that all communication to the school and Leona--even to anywhere on the island--have been unsuccessful. Other ways of communicating are being sought, but the guard is bracing for the worse.

She tells the grandmother that if she hears anything, she'll come find her.

The parents of four families congregate in Clover Bakery before it opens. It's clear that no one has gotten much sleep. Cups of coffee are handed out as they all take a seat in the bakery's main area.

"Any word?"

"No."

"Actually," Mrs. Trappola says, "my eldest told me that his friend on the Land of Dawning was given an evacuation order alongside every single citizen there."

". . . The entire land?" Mrs. Clover says faintly, disbelieved.

"The entire land." The weight of the words is heavy and they all silently contemplate what the evacuation could mean.

"Doesn't the heir of Briar Valley also go to the school?" Mrs. Diamond asks. "It's possible he might be keeping everyone safe. Plus--" she fixes a bright smile on her face--"our boys have survived two Overblots. What's one more?"

"There's also a magicless student who goes to the school," Mrs. Trappola says. "I heard from Ace that they've gone through multiple Overblots and survived without so much a scratch. If they can stay standing after that kind of disaster, then this should be nothing for them."

". . . I'm sorry, did you say multiple?"

The bell above the door chimes. In steps none other than Mrs. Rosehearts and a man who seems smaller in her presence. It's not missed the way the woman stands stiffly, and in the corner of Dila's eye, she sees Mr. and Mrs. Clover sitting up straighter.

"Is there anything we can help you with?" Mrs. Clover asks. Dila hears a little tremble in her voice as she tries to sound neutral. She meets Mrs. Diamond's eyes across the way and the two share the same thought: there's a strained history between the Rosehearts and Clovers.

That is when Dila remembers a phone call with Deuce early in the school year--Riddle and Trey's past and Riddle's Overblot.

Mrs. Rosehearts takes a deep breath and lets it out in a half-huff. It seems like she's fighting with her pride. "Yes. Have you heard from the school or your sons?"

"No. None of us have."

Mr. Clover gestures to the chairs. "Have a seat."

The man accompanying Mrs. Rosehearts, Mr. Rosehearts, accepts the invitation. However, halfway sitting down, he notices his wife is still standing. "I'm fine. This shouldn't take long," she says.

He blinks, then fully sits. "So, uh, what have we missed?" he asks.

After the two are filled in, Mr. Rosehearts nods sadly while Mrs. Rosehearts's scowl deepens. "So there's nothing." She almost spits out the last word.

"What about you? Have you tried anything?" Mrs. Diamond asks calmly, like the two were acquaintances.

"Of course I have! But nothing worked!" Mrs. Rosehearts shuts her eyes, tightens her grip on her handbag, and tries to calm down from the outburst.

"We both tried calling people we knew on the island, but our calls kept bouncing," Mr. Rosehearts supplies. "I heard about the Land of Dawning evacuation from a friend of mine. They also said that S.T.Y.X. was the one issuing it."

"S.T.Y.X?!" the room explodes.

"They're only involved if there's an Overblot. So does that mean. . . ?" Mr. Clover doesn't dare finish the sentence.

"But what kind of Overblot causes an entire island to be shut down and another island to evacuate?" Dila asks.

"One that can be caused by a powerful mage," Mrs. Trappola softly says.

The room is once again blanketed by horrified and tense silence. Thoughts return to what Mrs. Diamond said earlier. Doesn't the heir of Briar Valley also go to the school?

Mrs. Rosehearts suddenly spins around and marches to the door.

"Where are you going?" her husband asks.

"To the emissary. I will not sit idly and ponder useless things with useless outcomes while my son is in potential danger."

She's halfway through the door when her and everyone's phones go off simultaneously, creating a cacophony of text notification sounds. They're whipped out and Dila holds her breath as she opens the text application.

. . .

Mr. Clover takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. Mr. Diamond runs a hand through his hair. And Mr. Trappola and Mr. Rosehearts can't stop staring at the message on his phone.

It felt good finally having a confirmation that something was amiss and knowing that a major organization was handling it. At the same, however, it left longing for more information.

"What about my son?!" Mrs. Rosehearts's demand to know her son's well-being felt like a reflection of what the other parents were feeling inside. Anger, worry, helplessness.

Mrs. Clover sits back in her chair with a distant, worried gaze. Mrs. Diamond leans on her husband's shoulder. Mrs. Trappola rubs her face. Mrs. Rosehearts slams the door as she leaves the bakery.

After a few attempts, Dila finally opens the internet application. It brings her to a news article from a while ago, written by a Sage's Island reporter, and at the very top is a picture of her son performing in the Star Sending Ceremony. She can't stop staring at it. What if she never sees him again?

"Deuce. . ."

Meanwhile, in Sunset Savannah, a little prince runs down a street. His head turns wildly, searching for a certain face. Anyone outside pause to stare at him, no doubt curious as to why the heir is here in this neighborhood of all places. He finally spots her leaving a run-down home and sprints the rest of the way.

The grandmother hears him before she sees him. He slows to a stop before her and is panting as he says, "I know what's happening! The island is shut down and some sticks are fixing it!"

"'Some sticks'?" she repeats, puzzled.

He nods feverishly. "Yeah! That's what I heard."

She assumes it's magic-related. "What about the island? Did you hear why it is shut down?"

He goes to answer, but pauses. "Um... I didn't," he says bashfully.

She's disappointed, but doesn't let that show. "That's all right. Thank you for telling me about what you heard."

"Prince Cheka!" Marching down the street is the guard from yesterday. The little prince's ears press down. "Please, notify any of us when you plan to leave the palace," she says, though it sounds more like scolding.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to let grandmother know about the school."

The guard sighs. "Your parents have already been told and they expect you back soon. I will stand guard beside the house. Let me know when you are ready to return."

"Can you tell grandmother what you know?" Cheka asks. "I saw you talking to her yesterday."

The guard, beneath the stoic exterior, had been impatient to tell the grandmother. "Very well."

She relays the message she, a couple of the other guards, and the queen received. An incident on Sage's Island. . . All travel to Sage's Island and the Land of Dawn are prohibited. . . S.T.Y.X. is currently handling the situation and will notify when the situation has been resolved.

"I am sorry I can't give you more information," the guard says.

Grandma Bucchi shakes her head. "You've given me enough."

She makes her way to a cracked chair and tries not to fall back on it as she sits. "Are you okay?" Cheka asks, approaching as the guard readies herself to help.

"I'm all right," she half lies. She prays to the stars of the coming night that nothing is happening to Ruggie. She already lost her daughter-in-law and son; she cannot lose her grandson.

"He'll figure out a way to survive. He's resourceful," she says, partly as a reminder to herself.

"My uncle might be helping him. They might be helping each other, like the King of Beasts and the hyenas!" Cheka says, brightening.

Grandma Bucchi knows the story well--everyone in Sunset Savannah does. It came to mind when Ruggie told her about his working relationship with Leona, and the thought wasn't lost on Ruggie either.

Perhaps they are helping each other through the danger that has taken hold of the island. "It is possible. My grandson is in the same dorm as your uncle."

A/N: I have been dying to share this with ya'll for a couple of weeks. I also kind of oneshot this XD

[reallyromealone]

Rome may we get a pt 2 to this fic? https://www.tumblr.com/reallyromealone/685571568346202112/just-me-sliding-here-to-ask-if-i-can-request-a?source=share

Bonten trio (ran, Rindō, Sanzu) x dilf!reader

Male reader - fluff -poly relationship - reader is a dad

🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷After meeting his son, the trio was far far more present in (name)s life and subsequently his sons as (name) went to pick up his kid from day-care when he could which was usually three times a week followed by going to the park and getting food the toddler wanted.

"Noooo!" (Sons name) screamed out as he threw a tantrum from hell, (name) just staring down his son before looking at the Haitanis and Sanzu "I'm sorry about this" (name) said before crouching "I understand you want to put your feet in a puddle but if you wanna do that, shoes stay on" (name) said simply "now keep your shoes on and stomp in the puddles or we go home and you don't get to stomp in any puddles and you go to bed" he said simply and the toddler pouted before nodding and getting up "now what do we say?"

"Sowwy..." The toddler said to the adults "do you guys forgive him?" (Name) asked the trio and they realized this is a good way to earn the kids trust "we forgive him" Ran said with a smile and the toddler let his dad clean his face up before letting the toddler go and jump in some puddles as they went to (sons name)s choice of restaurant which was usually one with a play pen of sorts.

"Your son's adorable!" A young woman said to (name) as she took his order, flirting with him but the Dad paid no mind to her advances as he let his son order what he wanted like a big boy and then she noticed there were four extremely attractive men before her.

The three executives glared at her from behind (name) and Ran took (sons name) in his arms when the toddler reached out to him, (name) was happy the toddler trusted the three men... He didn't exactly have anyone he could trust him with for long periods of time.

Maybe his cousin.

The three did flirt to hell though with (name) while (sons name) enjoyed his his food and stole his dad's food because despite ordering similar things the tot wanted to know what it tasted like.

"His birthday is in two weeks if you guys wanna tolerate fifteen toddlers for an afternoon"

That sounded like a nightmare but they wanted to show they could handle things involving the kid, showing they were committed--- (name) had an inkling of their intentions and he knew he would have to have a conversation with them about what a relationship with him would entail.

He wanted his kid to have a good life.

And a secure life.

"Well being gifts" Rindō said simply and (sons name) beamed at the fact they were coming to his birthday.

They wanted to fucking die.

Here they sat with a bunch of parents chatting as a bunch of toddlers ran around giggling and playing.

Apparently the moms claimed (name) as one of their own and the dad's realized he wasn't trying to steal their wife, he just wanted to raise his kid.

"Thank you Zuzu!" (Sons name) said as he opened gifts and held the newest toy on the market, the Haitanis getting him cool toys as well.

By the end of the day, the three men were exhausted as (name) tucked his son into bed, the boy cake filled and happy.

"You guys don't gotta stick around" (name) said starting clean up as he gave the house cleaner the day off... He wasn't going to make them clean this shit.

"We'll help out, we contributed to the mess"

With anyone else they would have dipped already but not with (name).

He deserved better.

"I know you guys are flirting... I have ground rules if you guys want to be in my life and my son's more than whatever this is"

Everyone stopped as (name) spoke "no drugs or drinking around him, he doesn't need to see that shit" he said firmly "he's my first priority always, I WILL choose him no matter what"

"And I don't mess around, I'm here for commitment and if anything happens... You save him"

The three took in his words and nodded, if this meant they got to date him... So be it.

"Good, now so you guys wanna take cake home? There's so much fucking cake..."

[gaily-daily-musings]

Anti-Christ!Anakin modern au with priest!Obi-Wan (sequel here)

-

The night had been loud. Winds howling like the earth itself was in distress. A woman about to give birth comes to the church for help in the middle of the night. She bangs on the door yelling like the devil himself is on her heels. Qui-Gon answers.

15 minutes later Obi-Wan is awoken from his bed. Qui-Gon ushers him out the door as he fills him in on the situation.

“Shouldn't we drive her to a hospital??”

“No! There's no time!” He takes Obi-Wan aside. “There are forces at play here Obi-Wan. The devil is inside her. We must proceed with caution.”

“What do you mean –?”

The woman, Shmi, screams in pain. They rush inside the room where she's being kept.

The birth is a terrible one. She dies in agony. There was nothing either of them could do for her. Qui-Gon prays for her soul over her body.

The babe isn't crying. Qui-Gon cradles it in his arms. “It's dead.” He says, clearly relieved.

Obi-Wan doesn't understand. Qui-Gon is not a cruel man. He would never rejoice over such a tragedy.

Qui-Gon lays the babe upon its mother's chest. She'd called him Anakin with her dying breath.

“I'll call the coroner.” Qui-Gon presses a bloodied hand upon Obi-Wan's shoulder. “You did good.”

He leaves. Obi-Wan should go to. He should wash up and try to go back to sleep. Though he doubts he'll be able to after such a harrowing event. But he can't stop staring at the dead child.

He approaches it. Not it. Him. Qui-Gon had said she had the devil in her. He thought he was speaking metaphorically. Qui-Gon loved his riddles.

Something compels him to pick the child up. He rests Anakin in his arms. Sorrow fills him. How cruel the world was. The poor thing hadn't even gotten to take its first breath. At least both mother and babe were reunited in death.

He kisses Anakin's forehead.

The little chest moves. And then a shrill cry hits the air.

Obi-Wan pulls back in shock. The baby was crying. Loud and demanding.

Qui-Gon rushes back into the room. He stares at the baby and Obi-Wan. His face is deathly pale.

-

Obi-Wan has never believed Qui-Gon when he's said Anakin was the son of the devil. That he had no earthly father and was conceived in a dream. It was just Qui-Gon being Qui-Gon.

Anakin was a greedy child. Always screaming for food or attention or cranky from his nap. He only calmed down when Obi-Wan held him. Demanding his eternal attention and always clinging to his robes.

As he got older, the boy had no friends to speak of. He did not interact with other children his age. He didn't do social cues well either. He unnerved people. His eyes were too unworldly with their yellow tint. His gaze was too piercing.

Obi-Wan would find dead mice and birds under his bed picked open and dissected. He hides them from Qui-Gon. The man meant well, but being called the antichrist to your face had to be damaging to a child's psyche.

Qui-Gon often read bible passages to Anakin. Teaching him lessons of goodness and humanity. Anakin liked to listen to him read despite everything. He held many conversations with Qui-Gon on the nature of man. Obi-Wan was not privy to these conversations but he was glad that Anakin responded. It was odd for one so young to be so philosophical, but it was a better pastime than the dead animals.

Aside from Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan is the only adult Anakin likes to interact with. None of the others like to be around him nor Anakin them. It never gets better. He never warms up to anyone.

Odd things start to happen. Doors open, pictures move, chairs slide across the floor. Obi-Wan pays it no mind. Probably just the wind.

He got into trouble constantly. Getting angry with Anakin never worked. You could not chastise him or lecture him. He always fought fire with fire. It only fueled him. That's why all punishments were given to Obi-Wan to deal with. He would calmly explain why what he did was wrong and that he shouldn't do it again. For the times that Anakin understood exactly what it was he'd done, Obi-Wan would skip the explanation and assign him chores. Anakin hated chores. But Obi-Wan did them with him, making sure Anakin was actually doing what he was told and also to provide small talk.

He's disturbingly nonchalant about other people's feelings. He didn't care if they were in pain physically or emotionally. Except of course, if it was Obi-Wan. He would lay his head on his shoulder and hug him if he noticed Obi-Wan was feeling down. And if he got so much as a papercut Anakin would bandage him up with kisses for his boo-boos. It was rather darling and Obi-Wan thought it cute the way he was fussed over.

When Anakin hits 14, Qui-Gon slips down the stairs and breaks his neck. The others whisper that it was Anakin's fault. Obi-Wan decides it's time to leave the convent and the church altogether. He should have done it years ago. Perhaps public school would be better for Anakin.

It's not. The students and teachers are all unnerved just the same. But nevertheless he is away from the nasty whispers and rumors that he was a murderer.

They get a small two bedroom apartment and Obi-Wan gets a job at a daycare. It works well enough.

A girl comes over one day to do homework with Anakin. Obi-Wan is overjoyed. Finally Anakin was socializing.

The girl attempts many conversations but Anakin shuts down all of them. They get their homework done and she leaves within an hour.

“She was nice.” Obi-Wan says.

“She was boring.” Anakin replies.

-

Obi-Wan is talking to a coworker at the daycare. She'd come over to make friendly conversation. He's thinking about asking her out. It's been so long. He pledged himself to the church as a boy and doesn't have any sexual experience beyond kissing and a handjob to speak of.

They have coffee after work several times before he invites her back to his place. It was all very innocent. He planned on taking this slow.

The door opens. Anakin is home. Obi-Wan greets him warmly. Anakin just glares silently at Satine. He stomps down the hall to his room.

“I don't think he likes me.”

“That's just his face.” Obi-Wan assures her.

A glass in the kitchen shatters, startling him. Satine cuts her hand. Obi-Wan wraps it up with a bandage. Satine thanks him warmly.

After Satine leaves Obi-Wan goes to talk to Anakin.

“Anakin? Is everything alright?”

Anakin basically had two moods. Annoyed and grumpy. Today he was both.

“Don't invite that woman over again.”

“Excuse me?”

“She's not welcome here.”

“She is my friend.”

“Don't let her in this house!” Anakin yells.

His eyes seem to glow. The very walls rattle. Obi-Wan takes a step back. His fear spiking. Everyone was unnerved by Anakin. Some were outright afraid. Obi-Wan has never been afraid of him. But now his heart is pounding. His skin is screaming to get away. Something is very wrong.

Obi-Wan pushes past it with great difficulty. With trembling hands he takes the teens face in his hands. He will not cower. Not from the boy he raised.

“Please use your words, dear heart. I can't understand if you don't tell me.”

The walls stop shaking. Anakin's snarl turns into a pout.

“I didn't like the way you were looking at her.”

“Darling it's natural to have friends.”

“You want to be more than friends with her.”

Obi-Wan sighs. So that was it. “No one will ever take me away from you. I love you first. Always.”

Anakin grips back so hard Obi-Wan knows he will bruise later. But he doesn't pull away.

“I love you too.” Anakin says. It feels like a leash.

-

The nightmares start around Anakin's 16th birthday.

He'll wake up screaming. Moaning in pain. He refuses to tell Obi-Wan what it is that frightens him so. Obi-Wan is terrified for him. He takes him to see doctors. Anakin hates them all. Medication doesn't help.

Anakin asks to sleep in his room. Obi-Wan relents because after weeks of trying he's at the end of his rope. Somehow it works. Anakin calms down.

Except Anakin doesn't go back to his room. Obi-Wan cannot seem to make him. So much for dating. Can't very well invite anyone over with Anakin occupying the bed.

Anakin starts having other dreams. Wet dreams. Obi-Wan starts sleeping on the couch.

He has a nightmare one night. Anakin is gone. Taken from him. The dreams shifts and he suddenly he finds him again. He is relieved in that moment. He hugs Anakin tightly against his chest. Anakin is touching him. So many hands. So many teeth.

Obi-Wan realizes with a sort of haze that he is hard. Anakin strokes him to fullness. They kiss with teeth and blood. Obi-Wan jolts awake.

Oh god.

-

The nightmares begin again and Anakin demands his presence in their bedroom.

“Don’t leave me.” It is said partly in fear, partly in stubbornness.

Anakin needed him. Obi-Wan comes back to bed against his better judgment. He shouldn't. But Anakin needed him. And the nightmares had stopped before hadn't they? Surely he could put up with a little teenage hormones.

As predicted, sometimes Obi-Wan will wake with an erection pressing against him. The teen would reach for him at night while half asleep. Obi-Wan felt dirty. Disgusting. Anakin wanted comfort but Obi-Wan could not provide even that.

-

It was his 18th birthday. The day the world ended. Or was supposed to at least. Anakin had dreamed of fire and blood and death for so long now. He dreams of destroying humanity.

But he also dreams of Obi-Wan. Gentle, kind Obi-Wan. Pure of soul and body. Untouched. Just for him. Waiting for him.

Anakin bides his time, knowing not to push. Knowing the man was not ready yet. But it was finally time at long last. Tonight was the night. He was 18 and the world was supposed to end.

Even now the four horsemen look for him wandering the earth. Anakin does not call to them. Not yet.

They celebrate together after he comes home from school. Obi-Wan had made a cake from scratch. Anakin blows out the candles. He makes his wish.

“Kiss me.”

Obi-Wan freezes. Anakin expects this.

“Just a peck.” He promises.

Obi-Wan doesn't move as Anakin leans it. He pecks his cheek. Then moves in for the kill.

He pries Obi-wan's mouth open and shoves his tongue inside. Obi-Wan shivers. Anakin can feel his arousal.

The older man starts to move away. Anakin holds on tighter. No. That wouldn't do. He grips Obi-Wan's face and whispers into his ear.

“Stop listening to your thoughts. Give into your body's wants.”

Obi-Wan fights the suggestion. But only a little. Anakin strips his pants off. He straddles him naked on the chair and floods his mind with pleasure. Obi-Wan is weak to resist. The words start to weave their way inside Obi-Wan until he feels him finally relax. Good. He eases off his control letting Obi-Wan's lips loosen.

“Anakin,” he groans. “We shouldn't…”

Anakin grinds against his lap.

“I love you first, Obi-Wan. Not the world. Not the people or animals or plants in it. I only want you. Only you.”

Obi-Wan clutches at his waist. Anakin's hole flutters. Puckering up to kiss Obi-Wan's fingers as he brushes between his cheeks.

“Bed.” Obi-Wan gasps out.

They move quickly. Desperately. Anakin preens. The only thing he had done was remove Obi-Wan's inhibitions and tear down his walls. This desire was all Obi-Wan's doing. This was Obi-Wan's true self unfiltered by shame.

Anakin cries at the first push. Soon the wet slap fills the room. The fuck hard and fast. Nails dig into skin until it breaks.

Obi-Wan empties himself into Anakin and the teen nearly purrs in triumph. Next time he'll mount Obi-Wan. He's sure the man would like that.

-

Obi-Wan wakes up horrified. What had he done? He stumbles up out of bed. He hurriedly pulls on a shirt and boxers and makes his way into the bathroom gripping the sink. He remembers last night. Taking pleasure. Ruining Anakin's innocence. The room spins.

Wait.

The room had literally spun. He remembers things floating in the air. What?

Anakin comes into the bathroom (hadn't he locked that?). He slides up to him still naked and kisses under his jaw. Anakin looks at him in the mirror and Obi-Wan startles. Anakin's eyes have changed. Instead of blue tinged in yellow they're now a bright golden. A mini sun burning. The air around him is charged.

Oh my god Qui-Gon was right. This was the son of Satan.

“You…you have school in an hour.” He stumbles over his tongue.

Anakin looks at him like he's amusing.

“It doesn't matter anymore. It'll crumble along with the rest of humanity.”

Obi-Wan swallows thickly. He reaches for that place inside him that was the calm in the storm of raising Anakin. It's not there. He's falling apart.

Slowly, Obi-Wan turns and cups Anakin's cheeks. He's always listened to him the best like this. Between his steady hands. They're shaking now but perhaps this was more for him than Anakin.

“Why is it crumbling?”

“The Apocalypse. The coming of days. Don't worry. You're not going to die.”

Obi-Wan’s heart wants to run and cry and burst with panic and fear. He doesnt let it. Anakin liked fear. It riled him up. The teen had confessed this to him once around the fourth time Obi-Wan had had to come take him home from school for bullying the other kids.

“Can you stop it?”

“Why?” Anakin seems genuinely confused.

“I rather like the world. It's nice here.”

What the fuck was this conversation? What was going on??

Anakin frowns. “I already know how it is here. I'm 18. I’ve seen enough.”

“No you haven't. You're still so young, Anakin.”

He hums in thought and Obi-Wan rests their foreheads together. He has to do something. Say something.

“Do you really think you can simply ask your father to keep me? It doesn't work that way. He is not benevolent nor kind. He does not care for your wants. You are a tool and nothing more. Once you have served your purpose of starting the apocalypse he'll discard you.”

Anakin frowns. He searches Obi-Wan's face. He finds truth there.

“We would have to find them. The Four Horseman.” Anakin says slowly. “We’d have to kill them before they get to me.”

Obi-Wan nods. “Alright.” Alright Fine. He'll quit his job. Pack everything up. They can leave. And in the meantime Obi-Wan will show him the world. Show him why he should care.

“There's an artifact that can hurt them. Qui-Gon spoke of it sometimes.” Anakin says casually.

Sure Fine. Yesterday Obi-Wan lived a normal life with his adopted son. Today he's in a relationship with the antichrist about to go off and kill the four horsemen. He's nothing if not resilient.

“One more thing,” Obi-Wan pulls away. He looks firmly into Anakin's eyes. “Don't ever mess with my head again. I can't be with you if you try to change me Anakin. Do you understand?”

“But I didn't change you! I freed you!”

“No Anakin. That wasn't the real me. The real me has regrets and guilt and hesitation and caution. The person last night was a version of me that doesn't exist in reality.

“What if I'd taken something away from you? Changed aspects of your personality to suit myself better?”

Anakin's eyes are wide. He stills under his hands.

“That wouldn't be you would it? It would just be a version of you that I controlled.”

“...I understand.” He mumbles. “I'm sorry Obi-Wan. I don't want another version of you. I won't do it again.”

He buries his head in the nook of his shoulder. Obi-Wan hugs him. The boy is still hard. Had been this whole time. He never would have thought twice a day ago. But now, after already ripping the bag open, it seems rather moot to ignore it.

Still, Obi-Wan was going to do this right. If there was even a right way to do this. No one has ever dated the antichrist before.

“Come here.”

He guides them to the bed and sits. He pulls Anakin onto his lap.

“I'm not going to undress. But you may use my leg if you want.”

Anakin blushes. It's adorable.

Witt his permission, he ruts against Obi-Wan's leg. He comes quickly as expected of a teenager. Obi-Wan kisses his forehead.

“Good boy.” he whispers.

Anakin shudders.

“Now go clean up. I'll make breakfast.”

Anakin nods and hurries to the bathroom. Once the door is closed the adrenaline leaves Obi-Wan. He slumps against the bed.

Fuck.

He wants to pray. He wants to get on his knees and beg forgiveness until his voice is hoarse.

He doesn't. He can't. There was work to do.

He gets up and heads to the kitchen. Anakin wasn't going to like it when he told him they weren't going to have sex again for a while. But he's weathered a million storms with the boy. It would be fine.

-

Epilogue

They travel around Europe and Australia and South America. Anakin grows. He becomes a confident, cocky, devastatingly handsome man.

They kill the horsemen one by one. They corner Famine in a town by an abandoned church. By the time the deed is done Obi-Wan is covered is blood and an awful black ichor. Anakin turns to him with desire in his eyes.

“Can I please?” he begs. He's asked so many times before. And so many times Obi-Wan has denied him.

Obi-Wan nods.

They have sex on one of the broken pews. It rattles loudly like the angels themselves protest in this sacrilegious act. He doesn't pray to God anymore. He prays to Anakin.

“I love you.” The demon tells him.

“I love you too.”

[gemsofthegalaxy]

one more second here defending Stolas sorry sorry but like

yes Stolas was quick to react poorly to how Blitz responded and he should have given him a moment to process, and gave Blitz more grace for being, well, how Blitz always kind of is. Blitz being goofy with a mean edge to it is something Stolas actually likes about him, after all

however, we can see the state Stolas has worked himself into before Blitz arrives. He's so nervous he pukes in the morning, vacillates wildly in thinking of the way tonight is going to go, and still ends up putting all his hopes on it working out well, while, clearly, being convinced that it won't

Blitz's self-loathing is integral to his character, 100%, hands-down... but Stolas doesn't exactly think he's super deserving of love, either?

He's always been shunned by his peers, his father had to buy him a friend and only cared to do so because it was his birthday once. he was married off from a young age to a woman who held nothing but disdain for him. his greatest joy in life is his relationship with his daughter which is rocky at best due to his own screw-ups. he has precious few relationships to get any practice or experience in dealing with conflict, other than the aforementioned wife which is mostly screaming matches and I doubt he wants to handle conflict with Blitz the same way.

he was bouncing his leg and frowning deeply prior to Blitz' arrival, clear signs of nervousness and unease. and the thing is, he tried to prepare himself emotionally for any outcome, obviously, but he doesn't exactly have the most fantastic social skills in the world and nor does he have a lot of experience handling the big emotions of rejection. he's never had an actual relationship before; he was first in an arranged marriage and hasn't had eyes for anyone but Blitz since. he clearly has romantic notions, but they undoubtedly come from fiction, and it makes sense he wouldn't be able to cope with being disbelieved and then argued with about said giant emotions and his heart's desires

which sucks. he's an adult and he needs to learn to regulate himself enough to have a conversation, but, given the lack of experience he has with it it's not exactly an outrageous reaction to be having? and i personally just have faith that he's gonna Get There or at least make progress over the series because frankly what else would be the point in a show like this

[suzukiblu]

For the WIP game: Hug

Context: Kryptonians have secondary genders but nobody thought to tell Match, so he's currently having a very confusing presentation.

The sun is coming up, and Metropolis is bright and golden and coming alive, and Match is here to lie to Superman. That's all the information that's relevant to the mission.

Really, even the sun isn't all that relevant.

Now he just has to find Superman, which shouldn't be particularly hard. Fly around his city enough, track down a disaster or accident or two, and he'll turn up. He always does.

Of course he does.

Match wonders if Superman knows how many times they've seen each other. How often he ever figured it out later or not. The Agenda doesn't let him out very much, but . . .

He just wonders.

He knows how many times they've seen each other. He's counted.

Maybe he shouldn't have, though. Maybe . . .

Match hears a distant scream and bolts towards it. Screams are something that would draw Superman's attention, after all.

When he gets to the source of the screaming there's a car hanging halfway off a bridge over the river and a panicking man and woman with two small children in booster seats inside it.

It tips.

Falls.

Match catches it, because that's what Superboy would do and he's not going to pass for him if he doesn't. It's not like it's difficult, anyway. And maybe it'll get Superman's attention.

He sets the car back down on the bridge. The man and woman blubber all over their buckled-in children, then all over him. They both smell disgusting and when they hug him in gratitude he feels disgusting. But Superboy would make sure they're alright before just flying off, so Match does too.

They really do smell so disgusting, though.

. . . well. Not the children, actually. They do smell a little off-putting, just slightly too sickly-sweet, but not as unpleasant as their apparent parents do.

That seems . . . odd, Match thinks, repressing a frown in favor of making a stupid Superboy-style joke at the parents, who both laugh shakily and then hug him again, and continue to smell disgusting.

Definitely odd. Why wouldn't the children smell as bad to him as the adults?

The Agenda doesn't exactly keep children around. Match is–physiologically–the youngest person he knows, and he's nineteen. So he hasn't seen any children in a while, and . . .

Honestly, the longer he stands here pretending to care about their parents not having died, the better the children are smelling. He has the illogical and absolutely insane urge to go check on them too, or . . . something.

The parents take their children out of their booster seats and try to soothe their anxious tears, and Match . . . he could leave now, probably, but . . .

But the children are crying, and he should . . . fix that, shouldn't he? Superboy would, probably. Every report he's ever seen that involved children, Superboy was always either bright and friendly and eager to interact with them or viciously protective of them, so . . .

So if he wants to check on them, well . . . that's just what Superboy would do anyway, isn't it?

It is, he tells himself, so he does.

[princess-glassred]

A short interaction I wrote between Henry and Butch about Patrick

Tw: Bruises, abuse, blood, cuts, Butch Bowers, toxic henpat

It was 11 AM on a saturday, and the Bowers house was still dark as a sewer drain. The warm sunlight from the windows hit the floor to illuminate the room, but even natural sunlight was not nearly enough to make the pig sty of a house feel like a home. Today was like any other day in the Bowers residence, everything was right where it was supposed to be, as if Henry and Butch had been plopped down in predesignated spots like dolls. They sat on the couch together, not talking, entranced by the cold blue glow of the tv. Nothing good was ever on tv at this time, not that public access television was ever that good to begin with, but at least on late nights you could find some decent adult programming. Right now it was all shitty kids shows, probably ran by people who shouldn't be within 25 feet from a school zone, so Butch and Henry were stuck learning colors and watching unfunny clowns preform for screaming kids on a bench until around 6 o' clock.

Henry wasn't too focused on the tv though, he was watching, but he wasn't really paying attention. He was much more focused on the bowl of oatmeal he was stuffing in his face, almost like he expected Butch to reach over and take it from him. He was pretty famished though, his stomache had been rumbling since he woke up, and lord knows Butch Bowers would never cook breakfast. That was a woman's job, and when there wasn't a woman around to do the job, it was Henry's. They sat in silence for a little while longer, until Butch suddenly turned his head to look Henry up and down. As per usual, Butch's eyes were only ever locked into one specific emotion whenever they landed on Henry: contempt. Suddenly his eyes stopped on one specific part of Henry's body, transfixed on his right wrist that he was currently using to shovel strawberry oatmeal down his throat. Butch cocked his head to the side and squinted at Henry. "You're not very sneaky son." He said plainly, and right on cue, Henry's entire body went stiff.

Despite the vauge statement, his son's suddenly panicked face indicated that he knew exactly what he was talking about, which only made it worse when he inevitably tried to deny it. "What-" Henry coughed, nearly choking on his food as he put his spoon back in the empty bowl with a clink. "What are you talking about?" He said, trying and failing to hide his terror. "I raised you, I know when somethings different about you. Your stupid braclets are on one side of your arm now, you've never done that before. You're hiding something." He grumbled, grabbing an open can of beer from the end table and taking a swig.

Henry blinked in shock then tried to deny it again with a nervous laugh "That doesn't mean-" but suddenly, Butch lunged for him, and Henry instinctively flinched. Fortunately for Henry, this did not result in a punch or slap like it usually would, but Butch did grab his wrist and pull it over to his side of the sofa. His muscular calloused hands squeezed down hard enough that Henry wanted to yell "you're hurting me!" but stopped himself. Butch wasn't a man who could listen to reason, and in fact, to Butch, "you're hurting me" was basically like saying "Good job!" and would have encouraged him to do it more. He used his fingers to scooch Henry's bracelets down his arm, his fingernails and the thick leather of the bracelets causing even more pain to him as they inched down his arm. After what felt like an eternity of burning, scratching, and writhing, the pain finally stopped, but Henry's shame quickly took it's place as Butch stumbled upon his secret, and there was no way for Henry to hide it anymore.

There were big bruises on his wrists, and even a big cut on the back, like some one wanted to cut him but didn't wanna risk slitting a vein open. Henry had attempted to cover up what the bracelets couldn't hide with make up yesterday, but that was now rubbed off too, and even then, Butch could tell. Seeing bruises on Henry was typical, in fact, Butch was often the cause of these bruises, but Butch was always very careful to only do it on the torso where they could be easily hidden. Whoever caused this had been sloppy though, real sloppy, maybe even wanted them to see the bruises for some weird reason. For a brief moment he considered the possibility that Henry might have done this himself, but that was quickly dismissed. Henry was too much of a pussy to ever hurt himself, he could barely handle Butch's beatings with out whining. Besides, Henry knew if he did some embarrassing cry baby attention seeking shit like that then Butch would have to buckle down and give him something to really cry about.

Eventually Butch unclenched his grip and allowed Henry to break away, leaving him to cower and rub his wrist on the far end of the sofa like an abused housewife. A twinge of shame and pain flashed across his face as he rubbed and whimpered like a scared dog, something Butch found both pitiful and incredibly annoying. Those bruises on his wrist could only be from one person in this stupid town, Henry might have been a little pansy but he was big for his age, so the only person who could hurt him like this would have to be some one taller than him, and more importantly, some one who he'd actually let hurt him. Butch crossed his arms and frowned, making the already humiliated and scared Henry feel even worse.

"So, who did that?" he asked, not a hint of concern for Henry's well being. "I... don't know." Henry mumbled, letting his voice go a little soft like he always did when his dad caught him in a bad situation. "But it was probably you, sometimes you get-" "Bullshit." Butch interuppted, insulted by the accusation. Butch might have been a crazy abusive drunk, but he could always recognize his own work on Henry, and those bruises were not his. "It's him, isn't it? It's from that Hockstetter fag you hang out with. I know it is." Butch said, so disgusted it was a miracle he didn't spit in his fucking eye.

Henry looked down to the floor, no longer able to deny the truth, but still desperate to cling onto his last shreds of dignity. Henry groaned, growing a little angry and defensive "it's not a big deal! He said he was sorry..." that was a blatant lie though, and Butch knew it, Patrick never apologized for anything unless it benifited him in some way. He'd apologize to adults anytime he got in trouble, but he never meant it, he was just very good at manipulating others to get what he wanted, and those manipulative tendencies leaked into every facet of his life, including sex. He got sex through manipulative means and the sex itself was a form of manipulation, but Henry just couldn't find a way to ever say no to him. Everything they did seemed to cross a boundry, and yet, everytime, Henry still found himself asking if it was really bad enough to warrant putting his foot down. It always started the exact same way too, first it would be pretty normal, then it'd get rough, and then it'd get violent, and then it'd be over before it ever really started, and Henry was beginning to like it less and less each time.

"Do you have pig shit for brains, son?" Butch questioned, catching Henry so off gaurd he thought he misheard him at first. "Huh?" he stammered, and Butch sighed at his own sons stupidity "I only ask 'cause i'd never be fucking brain dead enough to be friends with a guy who beat the shit out of me." he continued, getting up with a grunt to go get himself his third beer from the fridge. Whatever, it was certainly better than asking him to go get it, but it did kinda seem like the only reason he went to fetch it himself was so he didn't have to look at Henry anymore. To anyone else that would have sounded almost cartoonishly cruel, but for Henry that was just the kind of shit his dad liked to do, and had been doing to him for years.

Henry lowered his head and clenched his fists, beginning to quietly seethe with anger he would no doubt let out on Mike Hanlon or Bill Denborough later on. He shook ever so slightly as his rage boiled inside him "well- you hit mom and expected her to stay..." He mumbled, regret hitting him like a truck the instant the worlds left his mouth. Butch spontaneously let the beer in his hands slip out of his fingers, sending the bottle plummeting to the floor where it bursted into a big mess of booze and broken glass. The sound was so loud and out of nowhere, Henry jumped from his seat in fright and skittered away from the couch. He'd been afraid of that sound for a while now, ever since Butch got a little too drunk one night and threw an empty bottle at him, he'd found any kind of breaking glass noise horrifying. He thankfully missed him, but it was still a pretty fucking awful thing for a kid to experience, and it left some lasting damage on his psyche.

Butch whipped his head around to glance back at Henry while he knelt down to the broken glass, a difficult feat for some one as large and out of shape as him, but one he still managed to accomplish regardless. "That's different, women need to be hit so they don't get out of line, if they don't get hit they don't learn. You're just a fucking idiot who thinks when some one beats you it means they like you." butch shouted over his shoulder, poking at the shards of glass but never daring to actually clean it. Henry nervously swallowed and stared off to the side, racking his brain as he tried to understand it all. He furrowed his brows as his lip quivered, unsure of what to say but not quite content with the awful silence that filled the room.

He sighed and hung his head, still shaking and still silently enraged. "Yeah... wonder where I could have possibly gotten a stupid idea like that..." Henry muttered, letting his gaze drift down to the floor and away from his father. Suddenly, Butch rose up and put his hands on his hips, his face twisting into a repulsed grimace. At this point, Henry fully expected to be screamed at, beaten, and kicked out of the house, all in that order, but butch managed to do none of those. Instead, he just stood and stared at him in scornful silence to show his disappointment.

He glowered at him, balling his hands into tight fists ready to strike and shook his head "you know what? I take it back." said Butch, breifly catching Henry's attention again with the smallest bit of false hope. "Maybe this hockstetter kid has the right idea about you! after all, you were always a bit girly, maybe you need a good smacking every now to knock some snese into you." He elaborated, and that small bit of false hope Henry had flew right out the window, because of course it did. His father turned back to the broken glass and groaned, gesturing at Henry to look at it and do something. "God, Why don't you do something actually useful and clean this shit up? I'm sick of looking at it." he "asked", but really it was more of an order, an order he knew damn well Henry would never have the guts to say no to.

He hesitated there for a moment, shifting his weight from side to side on each foot before eventually giving up and giving into his fathers command. Even when Henry complied Butch didn't even have the decency to stick around and see him clean, he grabbed his coat and ran out the front door with out a word, probably off to go get wasted somewhere else. But that was fine, it didn't matter if he left or not, I mean, it did kind of hurt but Henry didn't really care, just like how he didn't care if Patrick hurt him sometimes. He was used to hurting, in the same way he was used to hurting others. Henry was durable. He was strong. He could handle himself just fine with or without his fathers input.... or at least, that's what Henry liked to think to himself. In reality, if all of that were true, then Henry wouldn't be in this situation right now. Groveling down on his knees, sniffling back sobs as he scooped little pieces of broken glass into a dust pan, the tiniest bits of blood dropping down his fingers with each new bit he tossed...

[nothing0fnothing]

NEWSFLASH for abusive parents: NO Pussy is that good.

Exactly no one in the history of ever has had a happy, healthy, loving relationship with their mum and gone no contact with them for seven years, just because their partner asked them to.

OP knows this better than anyone, because she knew to tell her son not to get involved when she found out the girlfriend was no contact with her own toxic parents. She gives no other reason why she didn't want her "genius" son to meet the "very smart and nice" Law undergrad girl he was in love with, because that was the only one. She didn't want her son to connect with other adults who are healthily and happily no contact from their own abusive family members, because she didn't want him to see it was possible.

She really wants us to beleive that she is such a victim, because her son picked an "outsider to the family" over her. Her sons girlfriend is the person she's decided is going to take the blame, and hell will freeze over before she considers blamimg the relationship breakdown on literally anyone else. Note how she breezes past telling us about her sons "accusations" of her. She's stressing that he'd never brought the issues up before he met the girl when he was in college, but never actually denies them. Considering her son and his girlfriend described her as a "criminal", I'm gonna just assume that if it was trivial, she'd have told us what she's been accused of. He didn't choose his girlfriend over his mum at all. With all the pot stirring and projecting she's admitted to doing in this post alone, it seems to me he chose himself over her. With the way she's deflecting like it's her job and rents due, I don't blame him.

Here's a take that might be controversial: stalking... is bad. Even.. if you get someone else to do it for you.

"I had to use one of those search services" (What these psycho parents call private investigators, because it sounds more like they were searching for someone missing than that they paid someone to stalk their target.) as if her being out of pocket, paying for someone to seek out a person who clearly does not wish to be found, was super fucking inconvenient for her. I just want to scream "No babe, you didn't "have to" do anything. You chose to do that because you can't comprehend the fact that your now 30 year old son isn't your property." This dude is just young, free and living his best no contact life with his super cool, lawyer girlfriend. Literally nobody reasonable was concerned for his safety.

This is a woman who doesn't know how to apologise because she genuinely can't conceive of a scenario where she could be at fault. That snide comment "lord forbid I care about him" actually infuriates me. This woman has admitted to running her own son out of his hometown after attempting to ruin his relationship, using his father and sister as informants against him till he had to cut them off too, and paying a stranger to stalk him. This poor guy has had his life absolutely torn apart by this bitter hag of a mother. He had to orphan himself from his entire family when he was barely 20 years old to protect himself from this utter nutcase, and she has the fucking audacity to say "God forbid I..." as if she has experienced any consequences for any of her own truly unhinged behaviour.

I don't care if she's old, if I see this twat, it's on sight.

The "Poor me" angle she's trying to run at this with is pretty pathetic and really transparent. I'm not sure who beleives she's an innocent victim, but this "I text him every day and they bounce because I've been blocked for seven years" shtick is boring and over dramatic. Especially when even the fact that the girl has a law degree is enough to provoke some weird, barely related attempt at a smug remark. She's clearly not too sad to be salty. When she's not coming off whiney and sad she's just coming across as bitter and jealous. It's not a good look and it's clearly not worked for her up till now, but she's committed to the bit and she's not gonna turn it around.

Her son is happy and she's just so mad about it.

Womp womp.

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

How good of a parent is George Stacy?

Okay, this was going to be part of another post, but it got so long that I decided that you know what? Let's give its own.

I want to make one about Miles's parents and a bit of a preview: 1) Rio and Jeff, while not perfect, LEAGUES better than George, and all things considered they almost deserve a medal for how patient they are about the situation and 2) Part of the reason that post hasn't come out yet, is because I had been trying to get dig some sources about some cultural differences between America vs Latin America, as well as Puerto Rico and the importance of family (because I am not from PR, just to make sure instead of assuming is similar because our countries aren't that far,) and how diaspora also impacts this.

As you can imagine, that's a lot of things to consider, unlike this, that is the equivalent of not-so-well adjust adult in their mids twenties screaming about adult parents because hey, I am bitter and I think Gwen deserves better.

This also will talk a bit about cops, implied childhood neglect, nothing would get too graphic but take this into account.

Let's go!

There are many reasons why I think this, but let's start with the biggest one: Peter's death.

Now, I can't say this is entirely George's fault; if you see things from his perspective, it all makes sense in his eyes.

In his eyes, you need to have a public face when you do this type of job, you shouldn't hide. That sounds dumb, especially when taking into account the type of villains spider people fight, which usually is the type that will try to go to your loved ones to hurt you.

However, he kind of has a point. If there is damage, if someone else gets hurt, even by accident, the person who did should be able to face consequences.

Do police do this? Not really, at least not in most places I had lived, maybe is different somewhere else, but let's not dig too much into politics here. Perhaps in Gwen's universe the police system works; this is a work of fiction with super senses that can travel past dimensions and time, this isn't the craziest thing.

Going back to the point.

In George's eyes, SpiderWoman, at least at the beginning, should give a name, since you shouldn't hide with that amount of power. The guy doesn't realize the fine print because either he isn't aware of it, or thinks the bad guys can be stopped easily enough that the vigilante in question shouldn't worry.

Then, the next time you see her, she is with the corpse of your daughter's best friend; and for how she behaves later; the last friend she has to his knowledge.

Sure, he doesn't have any idea of what happened, but as far as he knows, she killed him. This also checks out with the fact that he believes you shouldn't hide, and go by the book; he probably believes that if she truly didn't do anything, Spiderwoman would have cooperated with the police because is innocent; so if she is running, is because she is guilty.

Could all this be fixed if she had talked to him at some point about this? While she was hugging Peter's corpse, while grieving him, before this all happened? Maybe, maybe if he could have known what was at risk, why she was doing it; and emotions weren't running high, this could have been better.

There is some blame on both sides in this situation, however-

This, is a good indicator of something.

Look, we don't have an exact time of how long has been since Peter died, or when exactly this conversation happened, we aren't even sure how much time has been since ITSV in this instant either. We only know this conversation happened a few months before ATSV, and that's not much.

However, I can't believe this is too recent, anyone feels free to bring me the evidence; but until we have something set in stone, I believe Peter died not so long after Gwen became Spider Woman, if only because the bite and the death of someone close to them are fairly close. And by ITSV, Gwen already has been SpiderWoman for 2 years.

(I don't think it was a matter of days, personal headcanon is a few weeks, since Peter had pictures of SpiderWoman and everyone close to her knew about it, which meant she already gathered a bit of a name in the area. As well as enough for Peter to want to be more like her.)

All of this is to say: It has to be a while, and Gwen is clearly not interested in this topic.

Considering the possible timeline, it has been a while since Peter died; I don't think this is the first time they have had a similar conversation, maybe not with Gwen shouting, but with her preferring to not talk about it, or move on.

Is not that odd; sure, partially because Gwen doesn't want her dad to hate her alter ego, but the fact of the matter is this: Gwen is telling her dad that she doesn't want revenge, she doesn't want to continue chasing anyone. Even if Gwen and Spiderwoman were different people; Peter was her best friend, she was the one who suffered the biggest loss, and she has the right to mourn her friend as she wants.

I understand that George needs to do his "job," and that a lot of people feel relieved when the murder of a loved one is captured; but Gwen is telling him that is not going to her grief, and he clearly hasn't been able to help her with that.

I didn't want to put that image because this post is going to be long; however, when Gwen says she quit the band, he looks a bit unsure at first, and then breaks the news that he feels they are closer to capturing Spiderwoman.

George is trying to bring good news, but the fact that she commented on quitting the band, and this was his first idea to how "cheer her up," shows how much he doesn't know how to help her out.

Can't he help her because she isn't telling him the full story? Yes, but that fear comes out of nowhere? Nope!

I try to do one pic with multiple scenes for this one, it's a trial; hopefully, Tumblr doesn't mess up the quality too badly.

George says "I have a job to do," when Gwen says Spiderwoman may be innocent. Not only this is the truth, George doesn't have all the facts; Spiderwoman was cradling Peter's body when he came by, and she ran away after he pointed a gun at her and has been hostile. The fact that anyone would be nervous at that doesn't come across his mind, let alone; the position she was in with Peter wasn't anything close to lethal. Not to mention that the other students should at least have mentioned, that the lizard try to attack them, and probably that regardless of what happened to Peter was voluntarily or not, as far as everyone is aware, no one knew Peter was the lizard. I doubt they didn't examine his body to figure that one out, considering this is supposed to be attempted murder so they probably checked stuff.

I bet this happens often. Look, I get it, both of my parents are alive but I grew up mostly with one parent for most of my life, and this parent had a very time-consuming job, as well as energy-consuming. I understand that even if we don't know how long Gwen's mom has been gone (though you can guess a while considering she isn't mentioned at all in either movie.) George has a job to do. That being said...Gwen has probably suffered from this; you can see it later in her face, in the fact that her color changes (she was blue as sadness, got warm when they hug, and then went back to blue when he left her.) She probably has to spend a lot of time alone for this, perhaps for a while she was terrified that she would lose her dad forever in a job, considering how dangerous is his line of work. And while it may be the right thing to do for your work/duty, it definitely means he is prioritizing his job over her; Gwen said it more than once, her dad is all she has, and she probably doesn't have an uncle Aaron, even with other living relatives, they are clearly not close enough. If he dies, Gwen effectively becomes an orphan, and goes to the house of someone she isn't close to, blood or not. (Sidenote, hey how are the chances Miles also had the same fear, and both becoming heroes partially, to ensure they can be there for their respective fathers?) Let me tell you a painful truth; even if George has good intentions in doing what he does, none of that eliminates Gwen's pain. If a kid loses a parent in a fire-related accident because the parent was a firefighter and they risked their life, it doesn't mean the kid doesn't grieve a parent just because said parent didn't abandon them like a deadbeat; in fact, if it is for a noble reason, it may make those feelings more complicated and difficult to deal, especially without professional help (that I doubt Gwen has gotten much of.) And I am sorry, but there is a difference even in my hypothetical scenario, because is one thing having a risky job when you have another partner, and in case you have family or friends that can be there for them in case something happens to you. As far as we can see, the closest they had was Ben and May Parker, which is nowhere to be found in the present time. I am sorry, but in my eyes, that's failing Gwen, especially because she is suffering from needing to deal with sudden absences, possible wounds, and scares.

She is giving her big speech as to why she needs to do this after he attempts to walk on her for being salty (which I still feel annoyed at, I think he should have groveled, but WHATEVER, not the point.) And he is trying to justify this as "you need to obey the law no matter what." Look, I understand there are laws for a reason, but laws can be fallible, and in this case, hurt the wrong people. Both in real life and in this moment, if they try to go by the law, things would get worse; Gwen would have her identity leaked, and even if proven innocent, more people would be at risk for it.

The last two pics show the same point but also illustrate the gravity of the situation in different ways. First, George refused to listen to Gwen, despite her trying to explain the situation to him. And btw, the second? that's not when she is masked, that's when she has already revealed her identity, just before Miguel shoots a trap at him. Sure, he may not have pulled the trigger, but that's EXTREMELY close to pointing at her, and let's remind you, he didn't stop because he remembered she was his daughter, he didn't have to point directly at her because Miguel threw a trap to him before it happened; maybe he wouldn't have pointed at her, or truly pull the trigger; however, do I need to say how absolutely HORRIFYING is for him to do this to her?

I know, all of this is happening in a specific timeline of their lives, and doesn't necessarily need to reflect their reality the rest of the time, much less that maybe things were better before Peter's death, or before she became SpiderWoman.

To that, I said: that may be an argument for real life, but this is a movie, normally, you try to show often, things that show you how a dynamic works so you have an idea of what's going on in the character's lives.

(For example, in ITSV, we see in the beginning Miles being late for school, barely getting ready, and talking to a bunch of people before his dad picks him up. While this is a new day for him, it also gives us an idea of what's normal for this family and their dynamics on a semi-regular basis.)

George, repeatedly puts his job over Gwen; there are even other hints in moments I didn't bother to show. And this is not new; as I pointed out, which really is a bad look.

Now, do I think is the worst? No, of course not; I had seen way worse before.

To be fair, this is the defense.

He is interested in what she is doing, and being his idea ask her how the practice went and check on her. Yeah, he didn't know what to say about her quitting, but aside from the guy not being the best emotionally wise (which he looks like Gwen inherited from him, not shocking considering the very likely scenario that the mom kicked the bucket early and may have also had the same issue for all we know,) but he is trying to ask about it and isn't mad for her leaving like that.

I know what you are going to say "WAIT, didn't you put this as a negative earlier?" Yes, and I still think is a negative, however; there are nuances in everything, and if I brought up the bad in that scene, I need to recognize the best. Do I think he should take the hint and drop the topic, at least? Yes, but I say this earlier: He thinks this would help, and in most cases, it does help; a big part of the reason is not going to do it in this scenario is because it makes more messes than anything else, yet if the scenario was exactly what he thought it was, perhaps it would have helped. As far as he is aware, Gwen just wants to drop the subject because she may be disappointed this hasn't been solved already, and the fact that even if it isn't, it looks like the real reason she has become so much angry and solitary.

This one kind of addressed both images, and none of them are big talking points, however, I need to say it: 1) It was HIS idea to ask for a hug, and mind you, asking; maybe is because I am someone who can't hug people they aren't comfortable with, but I prefer people ask me, especially when I am feeling emotional. 2) See how he looks at her, he clearly loves his daughter.

Gwen went to hug him, if he was that much of a horrible father, she wouldn't have done this, let alone as quickly.

I know this one carries controversy, but yes, I believe Gwen is a trans girl, and probably has been out for a while (nope, I don't have sources or similar, just hc based on other clues.) I don't think I can say anything that someone else didn't say already, so I will not analyze why I think this is the case. I will say this; yes, I am aware there is no hard proof in the movie. Yes, I think is okay if other people think her dad is trans, or Peter was, or maybe everyone is just an ally. My only issue is people saying is IMPOSSIBLE to happen, or that is not the case because (insert theory with no hard proof, meaning is okay to believe it, but not to push it down anyone's throats.) With that out of the way; as someone who is trans, I can't say enough about how having a parent supporting a transition is MASSIVE. Especially early on.

He QUITS. Did he wait at the end after doing something absolutely horrifying to her, leaving her in a very vulnerable position that technically, lead her to be in a dangerous position? Yes, it took a while all things considered? Also yes. I consider those factors important, HOWEVER, he decided to quit. While the emotional wounds are probably still there, he is finally listening, and deciding to change for Gwen. Mistakes or not, he is doing the right thing, and is up to Gwen if she can forgive him or not. And she does, which should show something.

Again, it needed a very serious experience, but this was the wake-up call he needed. I didn't show it all, but he says how his job as a Captain doesn't matter anymore, because ultimately he loves her more than his position, and she is at the end of the day, the best thing he has ever done. Not becoming captain, not detaining a dangerous criminal or anything, her. I believe it would have been valid for Gwen if she decided to not forgive her dad, or that they still have a long road to recover; nonetheless, I think when you aren't the one who was directly affected, you need to take into account when someone decides to do the right thing, and turn a new leaf. Is one thing to not be able to move past a betrayal for someone really close to you; and another is hearing someone you know to some degree made mistakes and then fix them. It took me a while (in fact, almost 3 hours; there is another post that is half-done since this was part of something else, but yeah.) While I believe George Stacy did mistakes, he is turning a new leaf, and working to be better. And that's amazing in itself. If anyone thinks that the bare minimum or some of my points were the bare minimum, I think that's fine. My baseline for parenting and judging parents is kind of off, and that's as much detail as I want to give about it. One way or another, I think George for a while, wasn't able to support Gwen in all the ways she needed; he was trying his best, and a few things aren't his fault considering the circumstances. However, Gwen definitely needs more than him. Next, Gwen's possibly wanting a mom, and the role Jess plays in all of this.

[jotunvali02]

Playing Turnabout Goodbyes, last part

"The second bullet was never found."

Ah-ah-ah. No, no, baby.

"Tsk, tsk" as Von Karma would say.

FEE-FEE has the second bullet. It's the FIRST one that's cleverly hidden in front of everyone.

"Sorry, Maya. I was wrong."

OMFG... are you back at being stupid, even in court??

"Maybe the bullet HIT the murderer?"

Yeaaaaaah!! Congrats for Fee-Fee who needed again the intervention of a dead woman to help him figure shit out! 🥳

"Hey Nick. Remember what Grossberg said about Von Karma and his vacation shit?"

Maya, Maya... did you just find the culprit again??

My God, YOU should be a defense attorney! YOU deserve that fucking badge! Take it and scream "OBJECTION! I am the defense now!"

"I know Von Karma. Perhaps too well." My baby 😭💔

and here comes the metal detector, gracefully lent by Daddy Gumshoe!

"Mister Von Karma, get NAKED bitch!"

omg, that loud BEEP must have frozen Edgey's heart and all of his blood vessels.💔💔💔

"Who wouldv'e thought you'd dig your own grave trying to convict Edgeworth?" = "You touch my senpai, I destroy you, bitch."😊 #yanderefeefee

What kind of reaction must one have when the man you literally saw as a father for 15 years proudly admits he is the one who killed your real father and screams that he'll "bury you"?

After he managed to convince you a few minutes earlier that you had murdered your own father?

Anyone would have burst in screaming tears.

"It's all just a good memory"??? Maya, the FUCK??? did you forget-?? Nevermind.

"Larry? What happened now?" My thoughts exactly!! X)

"Wright, there are $38 in that enveloppe." "Yeah, so?" Omffffg,

PHOENIIIIIIIX !!!!

"Edgeworth?" "Hmm?" "I love you, baby." *kiss* "I'll murder Larry and I'll come back."���

"Where does that leave me? I've become a defense attorney because of what you two did!!"

Wrong! Stop blaming others for your whimsy, shitty decisions, Feenie. It's not their fault if you're a lonely, emotionally-dependent and obesessive psychopath.

Oh, and Edgey and Larry agree with me!

"If I had known, I'd become a prosecutor!" Hmm, an AU prosecutor Fee-Fee, hey?🤔

"Same for me, only the other way around..." No, no, baby.😢 Don't be sad. "If I had known the truth, maybe I might have become a defense attorney." My baby!!😭😭😭

Feenie, hug him!! WTF are you waiting for??

And stop that fucking happy tune when my baby is obviously miserable inside!!!!

"Want to switch, Wright?"

Yes!! YES!!! Follow your dreams, baby!! 😭

Aaah?? Fee-Fee didn't answer!!!! 👀👀👀

Wai-wai-wait!! So while everyone was partying and drinking their ass off, Miles was still in detention? All alone?? More than likely crying and being sad and crushed inside??

"I couldn't help you. I was useless."

Shut up, Maya! THAT'S NOT TRUE!! You helped and you nailed it more than Phoenix!!

Yeah, not just with the bullet, Feenie. SHE also suggested out of the blue Von Karma might be the murderer while you had no clue he might be!

*gasp*?? Edgey got a hug from Daddy Gumshoe?😭 (at least, I fucking hope so! that's the least he needs!!!)

Huh? No trial for two months??

WTF did you do during that whole time, Phoenix? And just how did you pay your rents? Yeah, rentS, I suppose the Wright & Co offices aren't free to use!

*gasp*! I hope for your ass you spent them visiting and comforting your boyfriend! (in exchange for the paying of your rents, maybe? like you wanted?)

Also, when 9 years-old Miles felt unconscious, the two adults with him felt unsconcious too? Like, all the three of them, at the same time??

Either baby Miles had a prodigious endurance or the two adults with him were exceptionnally weak-bodied.

Or Takumi didn't think about sth basic as that so that Gregory's murder happens easily and smoothly. Cause bitch, HOW the fuck Yogi couldn't have recognized Von Karma then and why wouldn't have Gregory tried to defend himself? And HOW couldn't they have heard Von Karma screaming?

I've just realized that whole story of Greg's murder doesn't make any sense from the begining!

[daydream-cement]

Stately Sequoia Ch. 20

Here it is guys. The grand finale!

Earlier that morning

"Doctor, stop!" Sheriff Galpin had to grab Rowan around the middle to prevent her from entering the rubble to try and find you. She kept trying to push past him, fighting him every step of the way.

Dr. Ali was kicking and screaming, unable to control herself at this point, "Fern! No! Put me down! I said, put me down!"

"If you try and go down there, you will probably end up dead too." He was relentless, not letting her go for anything. Well that was until the rubble itself began to shift almost as if a massive creature was churning the broken boards and stones.

Sheriff Galpin released Rowan and together they watched in awe. Both of them worrying about what could be lurking beneath it all, "I'm calling in backup."

------

Present Time

The warmth eventually dissipated from your body. You don't remember how or why or even when. There was just stillness across your body. It was so relieving to be free of the pain and torment the nightshade has caused you. Finally, you were ready to open your eyes. Even with the first crack of your eyes, the light was blinding, causing you to wince. Is this what the afterlife is?

-----

"Well can I at least see her?" Rowan was impatient with the man at the front desk of the hospital. It wasn't him that responded, but the doctor behind him.

"As long as you don't rile her up, she doesn't need any more stress today. The levels of dopamine and solanine in her blood should have killed her." The woman spoke softly, gently nodding her head for Rowan to follow her down the hallway.

Rowan was on her heels, listening closely as they stopped in front of a hospital room, "And what about Fern?"

"Now that one... is a mystery."

------

"What happened down there?" Rowan was trying to be gentle, but she needed answers. Larissa was propped up in the hospital bed, arms folded in front of her. She wanted out of this silly bed. She felt just fine.

Regardless of how she felt, there was a decent sized cut on her forehead from a beam striking her, bruising across her left eye, and the doctors were concerned about the toxins that still needed to be flushed from her system.

"Well, I don't remember most of it. There is this haze keeping me from... I know was poisoned. But the walls started moving. The stones lining the walls began caving in. The room was collapsing on itself." Larissa shook her head, the memories just weren't coming to her all that well, " Where is Fern? Is she okay?"

Rowan looked at the floor, not wanting to tell her the truth.

"Rowan."

"Well.. they- they didn't find her."

"What do you mean they couldn't find her?"

-----

The brightness wasn't too bad when you got used to it. The sun was shining through the leaves of the trees. Thuja occidentalis, white cedar. You were laying on your back, staring up at the rustling branches. This was nice. If this was the afterlife, you didn't mind one bit.

"Dr. Rogers?"

You shift yourself into a sitting position, and look around you to find that voice. You knew exactly who it was, your favorite student, Eugene. A smile graced your lips as you looked at him all decked out in his bug hunting gear.

"Eugene. Where- where am I?" You look down at your arms,, they were marked with scratches and soot marked your body in different places. Your shirt was torn near the collar and your pants had holes through the knees and the left leg was missing fabric from the shin down. You looked like a character from a zombie movie.

"The cedar forest on the West side of campus." He took a cautious step towards you, "Are you okay, professor?"

You glance back up at him, the fear in his eyes apparent. Remembering your role as a teacher, you smile with a nod, "Yes, I am, Eugene. Thank you for asking."

Eugene didn't believe you one bit, but not one to argue with an adult he took a step back, "Are you sure?'

"Yes, now run along, I thought I heard a Southern Gray Treefrog earlier." You tried tempting him away with something more interesting.

"Hyla chrysoscelis?" His eyes widened, knowing their endangered status in New Jersey.

"Exactly," You groan, as you push yourself to your feet, then pointed off to the North, somewhat guilty that you were lying to the sweet boy. How were you even still alive? You should have died ten times over last night. Knowing there was only one place for answers, you began the trudge back to the meeting house.

------

"Just what I said, they cleared out the cellar and she wasn't there. They only found you and Thornhill." Rowan crossed her arms, upset herself that she had let Galpin stop her. She should have gone down and found her when the floor caved in.

"She was there. I saw her. She was laying on the ground near the wall farthest from the stairs. They must check again." Larissa didn't care how irrational she sounded. Where could Fern have gone?

"They cleared out the cellar, Larissa. It's now an empty hole. Fern is just missing."

"Then I'm going to find her." Larissa pulled herself up out of bed, everything ached, but finding you was much more important.

"Ma'am, please you should get back in bed" The doctor tried stopping Larissa when she reached the door, but even Rowan knew there was no stopping the principal at this point.

Larissa's eyes were ablaze as she turned to Rowan, "Get me my clothes. I'm going to find her."

-----

The barefoot walk through the woods became soothing after a bit. You passed the time gazing up at the trees that towered above you. It was only a 10 minute walk to your destination.

Where the meeting house once stood, there was now a hole in the ground, only a few bits of debris left in the bottom. What had saved you? How did you end up so far away in a different part of the forest?

That's when it caught your eye. A large oak that seemly had once towered over the meeting house now looked as it had been burnt from the inside. The leaves at the ends of the branches, once green, were now crispy and brown, like fall had just arrived.

You were drawn to this tree. As you approached, you could feel the sickness contained within the tree. Tentatively you placed a hand against the bark, the image of what happened in that cellar invaded your mind.

You were looking at the wall of the cellar, just as you had been when you died. The root you had seen had reached out towards you, wrapping around your hand, moving up your arm and around your body. Just as you had felt.

The shifting roots that tangled around you shifted you so you could see Marilyn with her hands on Larissa. She was angry with her. "Why do you care so much about her? It's me you love, remember?"

"No, I don't remember. I remember her." Larissa's eyes never left yours. Marilyn struck Larissa, hitting her again and again.

The rage you felt swelled. The walls began shifting, stones once lining the walls fell from their places, slithering roots making their ways through the cracks. Roots were winding around beams, one captured the leg of Marilyn, pulling her down to the ground.

The whole room was surging like the cellar had become trapped with the grasp of a tentacled beast. You heard a choking noise, on the ground near you was Marilyn, fully encased in roots. They had moved up her legs and slowly began covering her face. She was struggling to get free, but it was of no use.

The roots began swirling around the beams that held the ceiling up. There was a cracking noise and-

A hand touched your back, you swiveled quickly, jerking your head to see who was there- Larissa.

You waste no time. You practically jump into her arms, hugging her, never wanting to let go. You felt the tears stinging at the back of your eyes. Finally, you allowed yourself to feel the emotional rollercoaster of the past 24 hours.

Larissa held you tighter than she ever had before. She pressed multiple kisses to the side of your head, not wanting to let go, "Let's go home."

Link to Epilogue

[themarginalthinker]

Bittersweet

The months before the divorce were hard.

-

"-and if you think I'm going to take this-"

"-No, you're gonna run away, just like you always do!"

"At least then I won't have to sit here and watch and pretend that you're not doing exactly what you're doing with that woman-!"

The house never feels so small as when the screaming inside of it reaches its maximum volume. The sound of it echoes and bounces through the kitchen, up the stairs, and through the hallway. The hardwood floor makes for great acoustics, letting Sam know exactly the moment someone - he knows who - throws something glass on the floor. It's the only thing he can hear, the noise replaying for long seconds in his head.

At least, he tells himself, it's just a plate or a cup. Not someone's hand against their body.

Sam stares outside at the slowly sinking sun. He sits at his desk, the red-gold rays providing enough light he doesn't need to turn on his lamp yet. Under his hands, the pencil clutched limply in his fingers, his math homework sits, half-done.

If you have two parents, and one decides to get caught with someone else, how soon will all hell break loose.

It would be kinda funny, if it were happening in another house. To another person, another family. In a TV show or movie or book. Sam's hands shake as he lifts them from the desk, palms clammy. He tries to take a breath - and jolts when there's the deep, rattling slamming of a door, the garage door. An engine stars with the same kind of screaming as was happening with human voices, and soon, it's silent.

Sam doesn't know if he likes that any better.

Foot steps up the stairs, and Sam turns quickly to his door. It's closed, and he waits. But they move past, towards the end of the hall. The master bedroom.

That door slams too.

Through the wall by his own bed, Sam can hear his mother's voice gasp and heave. Sobs, muffled through layers of wood and drywall. Sam turns back around to his desk. The light was getting redder as the sun moved, imperceptibly, soon to be below the distant craggy mountains past the city limits. Sam kept his eyes on them as the noises quieted to nothing.

Then, a knock at his door.

Michael doesn't wait for Sam to answer. He sticks his head in.

"Hey."

Sam tries to keep his voice steady. "Hey," he answers.

Michael glances to the side, towards their parents room. Then back to Sam.

"You wanna take a ride? You've been working on that since you got home."

He nods to the papers on Sam's desk. Half done. Interrupted. Equations that read like number salad in his head, repeating the same instructions over and over, notes from class that sound like Charlie Brown adult gibberish when other words were so much more clear and ringing in his head.

Sam nods. "Okay."

He grabs his shoes, a colorful overshirt to slip over his plain tee. Michael's got his bike keys in hand, and with a scribbled note left on the counter, they're off.

The warm air of the coming summer whips wonderfully past them as they zip through the streets of the suburbs and into town. Whistling and light. The noise of Mike's motorbike filling the silence between the two of them until its not silence, and simply quiet company. It's roaring when Michael pushes it past what really is the legal speed limit, and when idling at a light, it purrs a constant hum of contented, but prepared energy. Sam likes the sound.

"Don't tell Mom," Michael says, pulling up to an open-air shop with a good crowd of people milling around, sitting at tables and on the curb. "She'd kill me for this."

Sam smiles. "Get a hot dog to go with it, then. That's a balanced dinner."

"Good thing we're young," Michael laughs.

-

Sam orders double-chocolate. Michael gets strawberry with cheesecake bits, and hot dogs for them both. They sit at a table, and watch the sun go down.

[kimodraw]

do you have any recs for other peter pan media? i love your art and just read peter darling and i feel crazy

thank you so much! sadly i don't have many because i think a lot of peter pan media is. bad and misses the point.

If you haven't read the original book, i can't recommend it enough! I find sooo charming and well written. Other than that my favorite adaptation ever is the 2003 movie it drives me up the walls how good this movie is. The disney movie is fine and very well animated but you dont need me to tell you abt the disney movie.

As a kid i LOVED Peter pan in scarlet by Geraldine McCaughrean!! Wendy and the lost boys go back to neverland as adults and find it has gone to shit, peter wearing hook's coat and becoming more and more irritable. I actually just learned its the 'official' sequel, authorised by the Great Ormond Street Hospital, so that's neat

Huhh I saw a peter pan musical 2 years ago lol? its french and definitly wasn't recorded, i was the only adult without kids and i had a great time, smee was a woman (double win for feminism AND homophobia ) and they didn't take advantage of the room filled with 6 years old to ask them to all scream they believe in fairies. boo, don't know why i told you abt this. movin on

I haven't read the loisel peter pan series yet so i can't exactly recommend them but i love the art

it seems very edgy and also probably misses the point, and i bet its filled to the brim with early 2000s sexism but. loisel art. yummy. need to check out my local library rn actually

I also liked peter darling quite a bit! heard the audiobook version and had to listen to gay erotic scenes narrated by an old british man on the subway. great experience

i hated lost boy by christinia henry with a PASSION: bad writting, made hook straight, doesnt get peter by making him litteraly evil (hes meant to be a child!! the most child ever!! when he does bad things its because he's selfish or doesn't get it or is angry he's a child!!!) anyway i hate how much this book gets recommended to me whenever my peter pan posts get some traction stop talking to me abt lost boy you guys tricked me into reading it already!! only good thing it does is replacing the native americans by. giant spiders. so i guess less racism than most peter pan works. great

idk ive heard of hooked recently. you guys know abt hooked? from booktok? seems bad

i have a short and mediocre playlist abt my peter pan,, thing too (title translates to 'im mad because 'lost boy' really is the perfect title for this' lol)

thanks for allowing me to ramble abt peter pan!! sorry for not having a lot of positive answers, have a peter i havent posted here yet

if anyone has recs THAT ARENT LOST BOY BY CHRISTINNIA HENRY!!!! feel free to drop them, both me and anon would love that im sure

[harrisongslimited]

George Chapter of the Day #6

I Saw Her Standing There

Trigger Warnings: swearing, adult situations, bullying

Chapter 6

"Where the hell have you been?" Allison greeted her.

"Staying with friends," Joie answered flatly.

"We are supposed to stick together you know," Allison reprimanded.

Joie just smiled. "Well, I'll be staying with some friends periodically. As a matter of fact, we can speak to the chaperone and maybe get you a new roommate."

"Hell no," she shot back. "I like having my own room. I'm gonna land me a Beatle if it's the last thing I do."

"Is that why you came here? To sleep with one of the Beatles?"

Allison waved a hand at her. "Why do you think any of these girls wanted to come? What are you? Stupid? Why the hell did you come?"

"Frankly, to see London..." Joie admitted, then threw in for good measure "and to see some old friends."

"Well have fun, roomie," she said. "I've got a plan I need to work on."

"So who are you after? John? Paul? George, Ringo?"

Allison threw her long blonde hair over her shoulder. "Doesn't matter, does it?"

Joie followed her a moment. "But Allison, they have lives, girlfriends...wives!"

Allison forced a wicked smile and repeated, "Doesn't matter...does it?"

Joie watched her as she followed the group of girls into a dressing room. She was totally out of her element. Yes, she found Paul attractive but it wouldn't go any farther than that. And then peeking in her mind was George. What she felt for him was....was....well, she didn't know what exactly, but she would never try to sleep with any of them. Truth be told, she wasn't ready to sleep with anyone. The farthest she and Charlie got was her battling him to stop trying to unzip her pants. He finally gave up and started dating Sheila Mattes, who boasted about helping boys unzip her pants.

Joie wanted to be in love. She wanted her first time to be something special...not just a quick grope in the back seat of a car during a drive in movie. She wanted flowers and romance and a loving courtship. Like in the romance novels she read or love stories she watched at the movies. Someone to take her away. Someone who would love Jordan and watch football with her dad.

She knew that boy was somewhere. She just needed to be smart and patient. Apparently, very patient.

..........

Victoria Brown was the woman who would show them the ropes at the studio. From what Joie could tell, it would be a lot of standing around, then some running after the boys, then a little screaming. Simple. Except that girls were disappearing at an alarming rate. "Wandering off" they called it. Victoria Brown knew they were trying to get to the Beatles and Victoria also knew the Beatles' wouldn't mind a quick one in the loo before a scene.

They were all instructed as to what to wear, where makeup was, where they were supposed to report and when. It was like a cattle call to Joie, but she didn't care. It was all new to her. Some of these other girls had actually been in movies that had been produced by their fathers, so it was old hat to them. But Joie was amazed at the organization.

By 3:30 they were done. Tuesday was going to be a free day and then Wednesday, they were going to start shooting "B" shots of the girls running, standing...waiting for the Beatles. The last scene, in about 4 weeks, was the concert. Joie couldn't wait for that.

She was getting ready to board the bus to go to the hotel when Victoria pulled her out of line. She instructed the bus driver to leave. Seems Joie was going to have a special driver of her own.

Part of her hoped it was Paul, but another part of her said it wasn't a good idea. She went back into the cavernous studio with Victoria and was told to wait in a small back studio.

And wait she did.

And waited. And waited.

Nothing.

She heard people milling around and finally a man came in questioning why she was there. Joie told him she asked to wait here. She showed him the note Victoria had given her. It said simply, "Wait for me in Studio B, Paul."

The man laughed. "You've been had little one," he said. "Someone pulled a trick on you."

Joie didn't know if she should tell the man that Paul had actually brought her to the studio in the morning...but decided against it. Why embarrass herself further? The man probably wouldn't believe her anyway. So this, apparently, was the way little rich Hollywood girls have their fun and games. Well, fuck you and the horse you rode in on. Their bullshit bothered her as much as a 70° day.

"Can you tell me how I can get a taxi?"

"Where are you going?"

Joie had to think. To Freda's? To the hotel?

She decided on the hotel. It was the easiest place to get to. "Shepparton Inn," she told him.

"I'll drive you."

"That's ok," Joie told him, not wanting to get into the car with a stranger. "I'll manage with a taxi."

The man shook his head. "Look, my name is Dick Lester. I'm directing this movie and I'm safe to get into a car with. Who the hell are you anyway?"

All Joie told him was that she was from California and hired as one of the extras. She added that she had gotten separated from her group.

"I think the group separated you from the sound of that note," he said gently.

She felt foolish and small. All she could think of is going back home and thoughts of home made her weepy. But she wasn't going to cry in front of a stranger. She fought and fought until tears welled in the corner of her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she told him. "I'm just a long way from home."

"For the first time?"

Joie nodded and blinked furiously to dry her tears. She took a deep breath.

"Look," he said sitting down before her. "go your own way. These other girls just want to bang a Beatle and go home. Probably some of them will. Others will make up stories that they did. Just go your own way and you'll be fine."

Joie took another breath and finally smiled. "Thanks Mr. Lester. That really helped."

"And I'll get my assistant to get you a taxi..."

"Thanks again."

"No problem. My pleasure. And don't let those other girls get to you."

"I won't."

Joie waited by the studio gate for a taxi, still not sure of where she was going. She had no way of getting a hold of Freda, who was probably at Brian's office, but Joie didn't know the phone number. The safest bet was to go to the hotel and call Freda later to let her know where she was.

She only waited a few moments when a green mini cooper pulled up beside her inside the gate.

"Need a ride?"

It was George, his dark eyes shining bright as he looked into hers.

Joie smiled in recognition. "You have no idea...."

Joie climbed into the passenger's side and George noticed she seemed to be a bit weepy. "I didn't know where to go."

"Just go to Freda's if anything ever happens or call Brian's office. I'll give you the number to ring."

Joie proceeded to tell him how the girls had tricked her with a note from Paul. And how she thought the note was really from Paul since he had picked her up.

George knew that the note was probably meant to do exactly what it did -- embarrass Joie, with a hug and kiss from the jealous extras in the peanut gallery, but he remained mute.

"How about dinner?" George suddenly asked. "there's a restaurant by our place where we won't be bothered."

"Our place?"

"Ringo's and mine. We live together for now until we find our own places. I'm looking out towards Esher. Ringo likes living in town."

"Is Esher far?"

"An hour outside London," he explained. "Not too far from John and Cyn's."

"We'll stop by my house to see if Ringo wants to come with us. Maybe Mo too."

[bookishtheaterlover7]

THIS THIS THIS. I want to add that certain PR blogs are convinced he doesn't date younger and much younger but when did he say he cares about the age gap, he literally said “I just want a woman/partner with a good soul and everything else (meaning: age, race, religion, etc.) is negotiable” so, why those people keep twisting his words and deciding for him?? 😩 as long as she's a kind soul who loves him and he loves her, things like the age gap are nothing and none of our business tbh. Plus when we become adults, it becomes insignificant. ////

Exactly. See Jason Statham and his wife who have the same age gap (if not bigger) of Abba and Chris. Now it's been years they're together but not a single soul questions them because they're real and private and they genuinely LOVE and care for eachother, we had a glimpse of them together on the Rome red carpet this year: his wife came to see his husband at the premiere or Jason himself brought her with him. Another nice couple but unfortunately they split up bec of work, is Colin Farrel and his partner who had an even bigger age gap but if you see old pics of them together you can see they genuinely loved eachother and we haven't much pics cause she's not famous and they were private. There are tons of couple with big and huge age gaps who were/are never questioned because they're real and private, so there's no need to question them like we do with Abba and Chris which he(Chris) never showed to care about "his wife", not even saying her name.

I agree with everything you just said.

The vague mentions of her, "My wife is from Portugal. Go, Portugal" are literally red flags. Along with the MANY pap walks.

They're all red flags to indicating and seriously screaming at us, that they are most definitely not private.

Those couples mentioned by An🫶n here, are the perfect examples of Private Couples. And, might I add, some brief representations of true love...

Something that our dear Cocker Spaniel and Ebola Baptism, just don't have.