#like my mom went through the integration of public schools as a little girl. it's her living memory

[nero-neptune]

still watching manhunt. there's something about seeing black people in shows or movies set in the 1800s. there's this mix of sadness and anger i always feel bc the fucking unfairness makes me sick. and if it's something set the south? then i know that members of my family i'll never know would've experienced that. it would've been All they ever knew.

i always say "i'd hate to live back then" (bc um! i would!!), but i have to remember that they still lived. they had lives, despite the shit they had to endure. at the end of the day, the very fact that i'm alive means that plenty of my black ancestors existed and lived their lives while black in america (the american south, at that). through slavery, emancipation, segregation, integration, and on and on. so idk. i'm sure there were many different things in their lives that made their lives worth living. if nothing else, it was a life. and i doubt they saw their lives as some endless hopeless tribulation.

anyway, manhunt's a good show. got me pondering shit lol.

[ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her]

On Oases

An excerpt from Memoirs of a Flesh Eater, never published

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I’ve talked a lot about the importance of safe places, of how important it is for us to be able to be our true selves. I’ve talked about how our families and the Society provide us those spaces, but I haven’t really talked about those spaces themselves yet, or how they operate. I call them oases. Kestrel calls me dramatic. She needs to lighten up {Editing Note: Does that sound funny or mean?}. As ever, though, I’m an anthropologist, and I need my definitions if I’m going to explain things clearly, so oases is what I’m going to keep calling them.

While I’m being scientific, indulge me in some definitions. An oasis is any place run by ghouls that caters to ghoulish needs or wants. I’ll subdivide those further into open oases and closed oases.

{Editing Note: As far as I know, I’m the first person to formally classify this stuff. Am I naming them right? If this book is as successful as I want it to be, these terms are going to be used forever. Should I stick my last name on one of these? Would that be egotistical?}

Whatever you first think of when you hear “safe place” or “ghoul haven” or whatever, you’re probably thinking of a closed oasis. A closed oasis is a place for ghouls and ghouls only. No humans allowed, and usually no ghouls that haven’t been invited either, given our usual security concerns. These places are usually specifically social spaces, like bars or private clubs, places specifically designed for ghouls to unwind without having to keep our true natures hidden. These places are more varied than I’ve probably made them sound, to be clear. Like, I’ve been to an all-ghoul book club meeting before.

We were reading Dracula, in case you were wondering.

The closed oasis that I’m most familiar with is a members-only poker club, at least in name. Obviously I’m not going to name it here, but a lot more goes on there than poker. They keep a bit of flesh on hand, obviously, but it’s not really an eatery. The proprietor, Goji, has done a little of everything to hear him tell it. I know he’s a damn good card shark, and I don’t know if I actually believe that he was in an all-ghoul circus, but he can actually sword-swallow. And he’s a talented tattoo artist, if a little too willing to work on drunk teenagers. Scarlet’s Shakespeare tramp stamp is exceptional, but for some reason he doesn’t like it when we tell him that {Editing Note: That might actually be too much identifying information. I don’t think that’s a common tattoo}. Spatha, on the other hand, really likes showing off the sword he did for her. I kind of wish she’d gotten it in a less intimate spot, what with how eager she is to flash it.

{Editing Note: Clean that paragraph up. The fine line between relatable and rambling keeps eluding me.}

Other than that, Goji’s place has got some nice couches and beanbags, a pretty good tv, and even a few old arcade machines. It’s just a genuinely pleasant place to unwind. It even has a pretty decent bar. Given the rest of his clientele, I don’t think serving drinks to minors counts as much of a moral quandary for him. I do wish he’d cut Scorpio off sooner, though. He’s of age now, but he gets drunk fast, and when he gets drunk he gets weepy.

Goji’s an accepting guy, though, which is mostly a blessing. Being a ghoul doesn’t make us immune to human prejudices, so it’s doubly nice to get a break from the less instantly deadly kinds of othering. We’ve met a lot of interesting people at his place, a lot of ghouls from a lot of backgrounds with a lot of stories to tell and ideas to share. Not that I’m always entirely comfortable with what they have to say. One of the advantages of a closed oasis is that it gives ghouls a place to vent their frustrations with humans, which is important, but some of the venting from the ghouls less integrated into human society, like the Hunters, goes places that I’m not comfortable with. Even if it’s just hot air, I don’t like hearing about how much better things were when “humans were our cattle.” Especially not from people who choose to kill for their food.

{Editing Note: I don’t know if it’s safe to include that here. I want to present an accurate portrait of us, not an idealized one, but I haven’t even talked about Hunters as a group yet. That might be too much, too soon, too bluntly.}

Open oases, on the other hand, are an entirely different beast. Open oases cater to humans as well as ghouls. Obviously the humans don’t know that ghouls are part of the target clientele, and they aren’t places where we can typically be fully ourselves, but they have other advantages. Open restaurants or candy shops or bakeries give us places we can go with our human friends and not have to eat food that makes us sick. Open doctors can check our teeth and claws for problems, and they can check the rest of our bodies too, for that matter - we avoid normal doctors like the plague for reasons that I hope are obvious. I even know of a few open butchers, though I’ve never needed to go to one myself.

I have, however, spent a lot of time at one particular open oasis: my patron’s shop. She runs it as a small indie bookstore with a cute little cafe attached. The cafe will serve you flesh burgers or sandwiches if you know the right signal, which makes it a decent place to meet new ghouls discreetly. I know Yaga uses it to meet other influential ghouls that she considers dangerous, since it’s too public for them to start trouble. Other than that, the shop floor just operates like a normal book store. Yaga’s fond of her collection and she likes talking to customers and making recommendations.

It’s what’s off the sale floor that makes the bookstore special. In addition to the normal storage space, Yaga maintains guest bedrooms, which she lends out to any ghouls that need a place to lay low, or just to sleep. She’s had all sorts back there - lone fugitives, feral children, sometimes whole families waiting on some fake documents to be ready. She’s especially good at getting ghouls off the streets and integrated back into human society. Kestrel was living in one of those guest rooms when I first joined the household.

I met her the summer before I returned to public school - high school, specifically - and my mom and I were still in the early stages of integrating into the household. Yaga offered to watch me while my mom was at work, and she let me hang out in the bookstore and read whatever I wanted while she handled customers. My mom ended up having to work late, though, so Yaga kept me around for dinner, and introduced me to a girl who was staying with her for awhile. 

Kestrel’s about two years younger than me, we think, and her growth spurt ended up being more of a growth bump when it finally came, but even then she was tiny. She was also quiet, but I’d always wanted a younger sibling, so I didn’t let that deter me. I asked a lot of frankly insensitive questions. I wouldn’t get real answers to most of them until later, and the ones I did get aren’t really mine to share, but suffice it to say that she was a feral orphan before Yaga took her in. Yaga didn’t think she was ready to interact with the human general public unsupervised yet, but I promised to watch out for her like a really good big sister if she got to come hang out with me the next time I visited.

I didn’t get an answer that night, but when my mom dropped me off again a week later, Yaga went and got her. She didn’t really appreciate me trying to be her big sister, but she did want to be my friend. It was a little awkward at first, but I’ve always been pretty good at getting to know new people, and pretty soon she was joining me and Scarlet and Scorpio on our afternoon outings. Turns out she didn’t need the extra family anyway; Yaga formally adopted her a few years later. She’s still one of my best friends, and quiet or not, I swear she’s better adjusted than Scorpio.

Yaga isn’t the only patron out there using an open oasis as a halfway house. It’s not the most common thing in the world - it takes a certain kind of person and a fair few resources - but I think it might be the most valuable thing the oases do. No one needs a space to learn how to be themselves more than the ghouls who slip through the cracks. Kestrel is taking a gap year before she decides on college, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she takes over the shop once Yaga’s gone. I hope, one day, that I can help people like that too.

{Editing Note: I might just be paranoid, but I think that this draft makes it way too easy to find the bookshop, especially since Yaga’s masque isn’t exactly subtle. There can’t be that many indie bookstores/cafes owned by old Russian women with  much younger adopted daughters. I’ll need to do some serious rewrites.}

[musette22]

You Make My Heart Skip A Beet

You Make My Heart Skip a Beet

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes (Stucky)

Word count: 3.8k

Rating: Teen and Up

A/N: Based on this lovely prompt by @greyhoundsgirl​. I have to be honest here, I’ve never actually seen Top Chef though so I thought it would be safer to make up a new fictional amateur cooking competition which I’ve titled Chef Wars :p 

No warnings to speak of, apart from maybe for awful food puns, but it is a bit of a cracky piece, and it’s in Sam POV (poor guy). Hope you enjoy!! 💗 Huge thanks to the amazing @rainbowsandcoconut​ for brainstorming, food puns and awesome beta’ing, as usual 😘

Read on AO3

Summary:

“I made soda bread.”

Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.”

The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”

****************************

When Sam and Steve had first been approached about being guest judges on an Avengers-themed special of Chef Wars, they’d spent a full fifteen minutes jumping around the common room in the Tower like a pair of overgrown kids on a sugar high.

Guest judges. On Chef Wars.

It so happens that Sam and Steve watch Chef Wars religiously. In fact, Steve even mentioned this in passing in one or two of his more recent interviews when asked how Captain America likes to spend his downtime, which is probably how the show’s executives had thought to invite them in the first place.

Sam’s love for cooking and cooking shows was passed down to him by his mother Darlene, and he, in turn, passed it on to Captain America – though if you’d told ten-year-old Sam that, he would’ve thought you were nuts. Poor Steve isn’t exactly the culinary sort of guy himself, but once Sam started turning up on his doorstep three nights a week to keep him company and make sure he didn’t sink further into depression, he’d slowly started to enjoy the shows Sam insisted on watching with him. Sam figured the familiarity of the actions and the low stakes of an amateur cooking competition would be perfectly suited to someone trying to integrate into a new century, while still being just exciting enough to hold the attention of an adrenaline junkie like Steve.

And he was right. So now, every Thursday night, the two of them chill on Steve’s couch, yelling at the TV and pretending they‘d do a better job of it than the contestants. Which, to be fair, Sam probably would, but Steve decidedly would not. What Steve lacks in culinary skills, though, he more than makes up for with his crazy supersoldier metabolism, rivaled only by the Other Guy and sometimes Thor, once he’s cracked open the mead. Steve can eat, and he does so with relish.

So needless to say, when they got the invite, they’d both jumped at the chance. Who wouldn’t, when presented with the opportunity to do the thing they did every Thursday night for funsies, but this time for realsies? And after weeks of giddy anticipation, today is finally the day.

Filming day.

The whole thing had gotten off to an excellent start. The sun was shining, Steve had actually been whistling on their way to the studio instead of nervously drumming his fingers on the dashboard (something which got on Sam’s nerves like nothing else), and they’d been offered some quality Italian espresso when they arrived. The show got on the road as soon as they’d gotten a quick tour of the studio, and after lights, camera, action, the contestants were introduced one by one.

There is Bernadette, a Missouri housewife who turned out to be somewhat of a BBQ expert and who reminds Sam of his Aunt Jenna; there’s Bob, a big, burly dude from Kentucky who wouldn’t look amiss on a Pro Wrestling show but who ends up surprising them all with a surprisingly delicate edible flower-dish dedicated to his lovely wife; and Yulia, a tiny, fierce girl from Bulgaria with some mean knife skills who Sam suspects could very well be a distant relative of Natasha’s.

And then there’s Bucky Barnes.

Bucky Barnes is a thirty-one-year-old physical therapist from Brooklyn who’s looking to change careers and get into the restaurant business full time. He has that whole hipster vibe going on: long, meticulously conditioned chestnut hair in a messy top knot, designer stubble, sleeve of – admittedly awesome – tattoos on his left arm. His cool, blue eyes and sharp cheekbones give him a model-like appearance, and yet there’s something soft and disarming about him.

Steve certainly seems to think so, at least.

The moment Barnes came walking through those glass doors, Sam heard Steve suck in a sharp breath at his side. A quick glance at Steve’s slack-jawed expression told Sam all he needed to know, since the dude is about as subtle as a sledgehammer. He’d elbowed Steve in the side until he looked over and pretended to wipe some drool from the corner of his mouth. Steve’s eyes went wide as he hastily mirrored the movement, missing the joke by about fifty yards. Oh, boy.

From that moment onward, Steve’s brain seemed to have gone through a blender, turning it into a rainbow smoothie – which was pretty unfortunate, considering they were going to have to interact with the contestants in a way that was suitable for daytime television.

The thing is, Steve is not exactly what you’d call a people person at the best of times. He’s fine with someone he’s known for a while and feels comfortable with, but with strangers he’s just… a little awkward. Credit where credit’s due, Steve is one of the most loyal, sweet, funny and whip-smart guys Sam has ever known – and let’s not forget stubborn as hell – but he’s also very, very bad at social cues. It’s not his fault, of course. Steve had gone from growing up pretty isolated without any real friends to speak of, to suddenly spending years surrounded only by his army buddies, which wasn’t at all representative for how normal people interacted with each other (Sam knows this from experience).

While Steve’s many social faux-pas are an endless source of entertainment for Sam, he’s not a total asshole, and he has tried to help Steve practice his social skills. Unfortunately, giving him well-meaning advice like “just be yourself” seems to be a sure-fire way to ensure Steve will put his foot in his mouth somehow.

That’s why Steve prefers to put on his Cap persona for public interactions. When he’s Captain America instead of Steve Rogers, all he has to do is look commanding and sort of friendly and say bland things like “I’m very happy to be here” and “You did well, son” and no one would be any the wiser that beneath that righteous exterior, Steve was floundering and wondering when he could reasonably leave whatever social engagement Pepper had sweet-talked him into attending, and head home to the comfort of his armchair and his sketchbook.

For today’s engagement, Steve had wisely adopted this approach as well, and the fact that he was genuinely excited to be there helped to loosen him up a little – so really, it should’ve all been fine.

But then Bucky Barnes from Brooklyn walked into the room and turned his big, blue eyes in Steve’s direction, and Steve promptly seemed to forget who or what a Captain America even was.

So far, Steve has already missed his cue twice, and it’s taken Sam stepping on his toes to get him to focus. To be fair, though, Steve puts in a valiant effort to pull himself together, managing to ooh and aah in all the right places when talking to the other candidates – sheer dumb luck, if you ask Sam. But as Steve’s best friend and confidante, Sam sees right through it. He hasn’t missed the way Steve’s gaze keeps drifting in Barnes’ direction, and coupled with the blush creeping up the back of Steve’s neck whenever Barnes’s eyes meet his, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Cap has got himself a Manhattan-sized crush.

Now, most people probably aren’t aware that Captain America is also attracted to men, but Sam has a feeling that by the end of this episode, that cat will be most definitely out of the closet. Steve’s never purposely hid his sexuality; it was more of a question of it never having come up yet. It sure as hell has come up now.

And what makes this even better is that Barnes is just as bad. He stuttered his way through his introduction, very obviously starstruck at meeting Captain America, but also very obviously gay as hell for him, if the way his eyes lingered on Steve’s chest and thighs is any indication. Sam, for his part, is incredibly amused by it all. Not only does he get to be on the set of his favorite cooking show, he also gets to rib Steve, throwing in as many food puns as he possibly can – most of which go over Steve’s head because he’s too busy drooling over Barnes. Sam’s wit is wasted on his friends.

Then, it’s time to judge. In the first round, the contestants are supposed to make something which represents why they got into cooking in the first place.

Sam can feel Steve practically vibrate with nerves at his side as they walk up to Barnes’ station. Feeling magnanimous, Sam decides to have mercy on his muscly pal and take the lead on this one.

“Mr. Barnes,” he says, giving Barnes an encouraging smile. “Tell us about your dish, if you please.”

“Call me Bucky,” Barnes says, returning the gesture with a quick quirk of his lips.

Next to him, Steve repeats the name in a whisper, most likely unaware that he’s even doing it.

Sam has to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking.

*****

Bucky’s confessional

“I grew up in Brooklyn, as the eldest of five kids. My dad left when I was fifteen, and while I was still in school, my mom had to work three jobs to provide for us all. She wasn’t home much, so it was kind of up to me to make sure dinner was on the table most nights.”

Bucky plucks at the seam of his black skinny jeans, lost in thought. “I think that’s why my specialty is comfort food. Nothing unnecessary, just hearty, nutritious food, y’know?” With a tilt of his head, he adds, “Although since all my siblings moved into their own places I’ve been cooking mostly for myself and my cat, so I’ve been experimenting with adding some twists to my tried and tested recipes.” He laughs, right hand clasping the back of his neck in a bashful gesture. “I’ve had… mixed success. Luckily Alpine has loved all of it. She’s my cat.”

“My first dish today is Irish soda bread with sage butter and Himalayan sea salt,” Bucky continues. “Bread was something we could never have enough of in our household. Five growing kids, y’know? And also, um...” A slight blush creeps its way onto Bucky’s cheeks, his eyes flitting around nervously. “Well, I guess you could say I used to be a bit of a history nerd growing up. I was super interested in World War II, particularly, uh, Captain America.” His blush deepens, spreading upwards from the neckline of his white t-shirt to the tips of his pierced ears.

“I, uh, I basically read every Steve Rogers biography I could get my hands on, which is why I learned to make things like soda bread because, y’know, Steve Rogers was Irish. Is Irish,” he corrects himself. Bucky’s eyes glaze over, taking on a faraway look. “Man, I couldn’t believe it when Cap was found a few years ago,” he marvels, “and alive. I don’t think I slept for a week after I found out.” He stares into space for a moment before shaking himself. He clears his throat, eyes refocusing on the person behind the camera. “Anyway, so when I heard that Chef Wars was doing an Avengers-themed special, I immediately applied because Steve – Cap, I mean- Captain America. Um. Yeah, so Cap mentioned in a few of his interviews that he watches Chef Wars, so I figured there would be a good chance he’d be watching this one too, you know? And then I got the email that I’d been selected and that he was going to be the one judging us, and I just…” Bucky trails off, looking a little faint, the blood draining from his face as quickly as it had risen.

“God, I just can’t believe I’ll finally get to see him in the flesh.” His eyes widen. “In person, I mean," he hastily amends. "And I’m excited about my dishes too, of course. I really hope Cap will like them. And the Falcon. Him, too. Yeah.”

*****

“I made soda bread.”

Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.”

The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”

When Steve puts a piece of bread into his mouth and chews slowly, he sniffs, eyes turning a little watery. “It tastes exactly like my mom’s,” he says in a hushed voice, sounding like he can’t quite believe his taste buds. Sam pats Steve’s back consolingly, before scooping up some sage butter with his own piece of bread and taking an enthusiastic bite.

“Hmm, nice,” he says, giving Barnes an appreciative nod. “And the butter? You make that yourself, too?”

“You butter believe it,” Barnes replies, then immediately looks horrified, like he can’t believe he made a pun that bad on national television.

Sam cackles, holding out his fist for Barnes to bump. When Barnes has recovered enough to return the gesture with his left hand, Steve stares longingly at their touching hands, before letting his gaze trail over the tattoos on Barnes’ exposed forearm. Since he's not exactly subtle about it, Barnes catches him looking and gives Steve a tentative smile when their eyes meet. Steve chokes on absolutely nothing and launches into an impromptu coughing fit. “Crumbs,” he wheezes, thumping a massive fist on his massive chest, “wrong pipe.”

Sam just smirks at him, before turning back to Barnes. “That was delicious,” he tells him. “Can’t wait for your next dish, man.”

“Really, really, good,” Steve chimes in once he’s caught his breath. “Well done, Bucky.”

Barnes goes as red as a tomato, eyes trained on the floor as he awkwardly shifts from foot to foot. “Thank you, Captain.”

“Steve, please,” Steve implores.

Barnes bites his lip, looking up at Steve through his lashes. “Thanks, Steve.”

Sam's pretty sure Steve stops breathing altogether right then. Christ, it’s like there’s an electrical current running between the two of them, the air crackling with it. Thunderbolts and lighting, very very nauseating.

Sam claps his hands. “Right,” he says loudly, “moving on to the next contestant now… Yulia, what have you prepared for us?”

*****

By the time the second round rolls around, Steve has had a series of meltdowns and Sam has spent precious time he could’ve been exploring the set and taking pics for his mom on talking Steve out of a bathroom stall. Damn, he’s a good friend. It takes all of Sam’s VA-honed therapist skills to convince Steve that he’s doing fine, he’s not embarrassing himself, and no one but Sam has noticed Steve’s massive heart boner for Barnes yet. Sam actually isn’t entirely positive about that last one – or the first two for that matter – but Steve doesn’t need to know that. There are still two rounds to go.

In the second round, contestants are asked to make a dish that represents who they are as a person.

While the contestants are cooking up a metaphorical storm, Sam and Steve walk around their stations to chat with everyone some more, camera crew on their heels. Steve manages to get out at least three complete sentences, and Bernadette and Bob are too in awe of him to notice the few times he says something that doesn’t actually make any sense. Yulia has given no indication that she even knows who either of them are, and Sam can practically feel the relief radiating off of Steve. He guesses that’s part of why he and Natasha get on so well.

When they round on Barnes’ station, Barnes has just started seasoning his dish. There’s a checkered dishcloth slung over his right shoulder and a focused look on his face, which turns into one of low-key stress the moment he spots Steve and Sam coming towards him. Leaning his hip against the counter, Sam settles in to watch Steve make a fool of himself. He's not disappointed.

“Wow,” Steve says inanely, gesturing in the direction of Barnes’ hands. “That’s- you’re- you’re really good at that.”

Barnes pauses his turning of the peppermill to give Steve a slightly panicked look. “At… grinding?”

At Steve’s strangled cough, Barnes seems to realize what he just said, his bewildered expression morphing into one of abject mortification. The poor guy looks like he’d very much like the ground to swallow him whole right about now.

Honestly, these two deserve each other.

When they've finished chatting to everyone and it’s time to taste, Barnes is asked to explain his dish and how it represents him. He seems to have pulled himself together somewhat since their last encounter, his stance a little more confident now and his eyes only drifting to Steve’s pecs every other sentence.

“I’m a simple guy,” he tells them, somehow managing to make it sound genuine instead of cliché. “I enjoy the little things in life. I like taking care of people, making them feel good and comfortable, and I think that’s reflected in my cooking. I enjoy making comfort food, the hale and hearty stuff.” He licks his lips, meaningfully adding, “Although, don’t get me wrong. I do indulge occasionally. I’ve got my guilty pleasures same as everyone else, y'know?” That last part is directed at Steve, who nods dazedly, like he knows exactly what Barnes means. Gross.

“So I guess you could say you’re just… arugula guy?” Sam grins, cheerfully ignoring the growing sexual tension.

Barnes stares at him for a beat, and then snorts. “You know what?” he says, returning Sam's grin, “the s’more I get to know you, the s’more I like you.”

Sam has a very real moment where he thinks he might actually fall in love with this guy himself. It’s only Steve’s doe-eyed look that keeps him from proposing to Barnes there and then. Okay, and maybe the fact that Barnes is clearly smitten with Steve, and also Sam is straight and very happily dating Nat, who would not hesitate to gut him if he decided to elope with some pasty hipster dude.

Barnes’ dish – mac and cheese with black truffle and locally sourced cheeses and fancy cuts of bacon – is mouthwateringly good, and Sam tells him as much. Using appropriate words to do so. You know, like a normal person.

Steve, on the other hand, moans loudly around his bite and then, mouth still full, he blurts, “That’s exactly what I thought you’d taste like.”

In the painfully awkward silence that follows, Steve and Barnes blush so hard the combined heat of their flaming cheeks could probably power most of New York City. This time, Sam can’t contain his laughter. He crows as he gleefully slaps his thighs, and even some of the crew is hiding having a hard time staying professional in the face of such blatant dumbassery.

Shaking his head, Sam grabs Steve by the bicep and herds him towards the backroom. “Come on, Casanova,” he says. “Let’s get you some ice for those burns.”

*****

For dessert, Barnes goes all out.

He actually makes Captain America cake pops, shaped and decorated like Steve’s shield with blue, red and white frosting. Steve’s eyes almost bug out of his head when he sees them. Barnes explains how they’re “sort of an adult version” of normal cake pops, which makes Sam raise an eyebrow. He’s been on the internet. He unfortunately has seen adult versions of all kinds of Captain America paraphernalia. Fortunately, Barnes just means that his cake pops have some sort of liquor in the center, “for a punch, you know?”

The starry-eyed look Steve gives Barnes clearly conveys just how clever he thinks that is, and Sam surreptitiously rolls his eyes. No game whatsoever, either of them.

“I’ve never had a cake pop before,” Steve says, carefully picking up one of the treats and inspecting it curiously.

“Oh,” Barnes says, blinking at him. “Well, normally you’d eat them in one go, but these are a bit bigger than usual because of the shape of the shield, so you probably won’t be able to fit -”

The rest of his sentence sort of peters off into a stunned silence as Steve proceeds to stick a whole-ass giant cake pop in his mouth in one go, letting out an appreciative grunt as he chews and then swallows.

Barnes’s mouth goes slack. “Oh my god,” he breathes, his eyes glazing over, and Sam cracks up. Again.

The cake pops are actually surprisingly good, despite their garish (sorry, Steve) appearance, and then it’s time to retreat and deliberate. As was to be expected, Steve has a crisis of conscience.

“I can’t vote for him just because he made my mom’s soda bread and he practically raised his baby sisters by himself and he cooks for his cat and he has pretty eyes, Sam!” he laments, voice muffled into his massive forearms. Sam makes the filming crew promise not to air this bit. It takes some doing, but finally Sam manages to convince Steve that Barnes’s food was simply the best. Better than all the rest. He even does a little Tina impression to get his point across, and that seems to do it.

When they announce the winner, Barnes smiles so wide it transforms his whole face and makes Steve melt into a puddle of Gü.

Sam has to nudge Steve again to get him to say his line, since he’s too busy mooning over Barnes to notice the autocue changing. “Ah, yes!” Steve says loudly. “First prize is a substantial sum of money, sponsored by Tony Stark, which we hope will go towards opening your own restaurant–"

“… and a weekend stay at Avengers Tower, also sponsored by Tony!”

Steve’s head whips around to him in surprise. Sam winks at him. “Including a private tour of the premises by none other than Captain America himself. Isn’t that right, Steven?”

A beat of silence, and then Steve.exe starts back up. "Right,” he nods, drawing out the word. “Yes. That’s right.” Sam pats his arm. Good man.

Stepping forward, Steve takes Barnes’ hand and shakes it slowly. “Congratulations, Bucky. I look forward to seeing you again soon," he says, adding, after a quick, bracing inhale, “and maybe when you visit, I can make my mom’s stew for you? If- if you like?”

Sam feels a surge of pride. Look at Steve go, being something almost in the vicinity of smooth.

Barnes laps it up, beaming at Steve. “I’d really love that,” he says in a low voice, still holding Steve's hand. “I’m sure you’re delicious.” His eyes widen. “It’s delicious. The stew – not- not-" Abruptly, Barnes stops babbling, then seems to come to a decision. “Oh, fuck it,” he mutters, and pulls Steve towards him, crashing their mouths together in a scorching kiss.

Over the noise of the assembled crowd's whoops and cheers, Sam gleefully calls, “And that, my friends, is a wrap!”

[emersonfreepress]

okay so is there content that you had planned for the ROs and story in general but then scrapped cause there wasn’t a good place in the story to stick it in? and if so, can you share what it was? 👀 👀 👀

yes, definitely. *rubs hands together* oh man, you done asked THE question today xD I can't wait to get into this 😁

Academics. I almost decided to have classes and grades be a minor part of gameplay, but the more time I spent designing it the more I realized I wanted nothing to do with it 😂 I haven’t really enjoyed academic gameplay in other interactive fiction because I 1) hate having to choose between studying and interacting with awesome characters, 2) have terrible short term memory, and 3) hate school in general!! So instead I just opted to have the MC be really good at school, point blank period so I could focus on social drama and relationships instead! 😆

Physical skills. I spent literal months crafting the catering scene around setting up stats for stamina/endurance, dexterity, and strength instead of just magnetism, confidence, and persuasion. They had their own backstories with the MC’s parents being overly invested sports parents instead and I think the background choices were like... martial arts, gymnastics, and track? But yeah, I ended up scrapping it all because I was spending hours on research about those individual sports so I could integrate them into the MC’s narrative organically but like... when I tried to think of what use they would be in the actual story, I came up blank. Best decision yet, esp since it means a lot less coding!

Skin tone customization. For one, I noticed that a lot of my favorite IFs don’t offer that customization and it hasn’t impacted my experience at all. For two, I originally realized I might as well not implement it since I am striving real hard not to introduce any customization that won’t actually be mentioned in interesting or meaningful ways in-story. I don’t think it’s really all that common for real life friends (esp in high school?) to comment or compliment each other’s skin and like... when it comes from someone who doesn’t share a similar complexion or ethnic background, that type of commentary gets... d i c e y. So then I wanted to be sensitive to that but what’s the pay-off? An RO mentioning how they love your skin tone once? Awkward sentences with the MC referring to their own skin color? Idk, just wasn’t vibing with it. I’m open to revisiting it in beta or something but for now it’s scrapped.

Singing, Rapping, and Gaming as Hobbies/Talents. I feel bad about scrapping these, honestly 😂 They’re great and I really wanted to incorporate them but it just came down to already having a lot of stuff to code. Plus, I know I can write the Hobbies/Talents I stuck with far better. And for Book 2 purposes, as well!

Leo. as @sourandflightypeaches ​​ asked me about a long while ago, I had to scrap an entire RO 😢 His name is Leo, he was the nephew of wealthy west African diplomats residing in Emerson, and I love him dearly! His backstory was largely based on my mother’s childhood and the circumstances she lived through after immigrating to America. and... ok, i’m about to go on one hell of a tangent so buckle up and bear with me if you can 😅

my intention with this story, aside from writing things that I personally enjoy (graphic violence, spooky woods, social drama, romance, conspiracies 😚), is to explore greed, wealth, and how the ways people and families interact with those two things influence young people and who they grow up to be. here i go sounding pretentious af 😝 and here’s where I apply a cut for those who want to preserve a little mystery to the main characters!

With Gabe, we’ve got someone who grew up with very little stability or financial security but who has found unscrupulous methods to gain status and money, with both noble and selfish motivations.

Kile has some of that childhood experience in common with Gabe, having been in the foster care system since infancy, but they lucked out when they were adopted into massive wealth by a caring, loving couple—a couple that uses their wealth and privilege to be far more lenient and protective of Kile than is actually reasonable or responsible.

Jack comes from a prestigious wealthy family on his dad’s side who he loves dearly but there’s no getting around the fact that they love him back as much as they despise his working class mom.

Jessie is a spoiled sweet heiress (being the baby of her family and the only girl) and while she lives blissfully ignorant of the harmful source and impact of her father's income and career, she bears the weight of the expectation to fulfill very traditional gender roles, including her behavior and appearance, but also extending to her career and life plans.

Rain's wealth led to them growing up sheltered and isolated but also extremely accommodated, giving them maximum freedom and opportunity to discover and develop their personal talents and interests. However, they have almost no positive relationship with their parents who have essentially decided to give up on a kid that couldn't be exactly the accessory they tried to mold them to be—both in terms of their identity and personality.

Rupan/Rohan, at their very core, rejects everything about conformity, self-importance, and excessive luxury—which means they have never, ever truly fit in with their peers. Going full non-conformist, however, has resulted in them becoming alienated from much of their family, as well, despite them all loving each other very much. Their history with false friends and betrayals has led them to over-indulge in their vices and reckless behavior to compensate for that isolation. Sometimes, they just get in over their head and many times, they know better. Every time, it's just that the feeling of finally belonging is utterly intoxicating.

Vivian/Vincent has two extremely successful parents who didn't inherit but instead built up their wealth and they aspire to be just like them, to a degree that is well and truly unhealthy. Their mother specifically is an over-achiever and applies mountainous pressure for them to follow in her footsteps, especially academically. Vi is completely capable of achieving what their mom expects of them, but they were already an extremely sensitive perfectionist so this has made them intensely critical of themself. This is a large part of why they are such a rigid, no-nonsense person and that in turn has made them one of the most disliked people among their peers—which is a huge personal failure to them since their father is a very well-liked and socially successful person in town.

And the Emersons are peak privilege: inherent high social status, brains, looks, charisma, athleticism, and massive wealth. They could never have been anything less than extremely popular, just by virtue of their last name and the nature of the town's social dynamics and politics. And they do enjoy that privilege (esp Curt lol). However, it should go without saying that being so high profile, even (or maybe especially) just in the isolated scope of your hometown, isn't always a boon. Their family's and their own perceived failings are widely discussed and privately mocked and/or celebrated. Real friends are scarce while fake ones and snakes are plentiful. Plus their dad is a gigantic dickhead who sees his kids as extensions of his own status and reputation and not much else. Public shortcomings make for an unbearable time at home and the world outside the estate is at once overly accommodating, full of assumptions, and even subtly hostile at times—all unrelated to their own actions or character.

And with the MC, I think the narrative will make it clear there are several ways that story can go. You start off with irresponsible parents that have lost their wealth due to their own mismanagement and material ambitions—how that affects any individual MC should differ based on choices and consequences!

So why bring any of that up when I was supposed to be talking about my cut OC? 😂😂

Leo was going to be the unwelcome recent addition to his uncle’s household, the son of a brother his aunt hates for (petty af) Reasons, and she took that resentment out on him directly by restricting his access to nearly every aspect of the family's wealth. Especially material goods and living conditions. He was basically treated like the help, tasked with playing nanny for his many younger cousins and burdened with doing the homework and providing academic cover for his dumb as rocks cousin in the same grade as you all. To sum it up, he was basically a victim of trafficking at the hands of his own family with his uncle out of town enough to feign ignorance to how bad his wife was treating his nephew and his aunt going out of her way to keep him busy, at home, and isolated. This is sadly a super common form of trafficking in Francophone African cultures (although I don't think most people view it as trafficking. and I’m sure the same is true of other cultures but I don’t want to speak outside of my purview). And like I mentioned above, it’s how my own mom's (and idek how many cousins') child/teenhood went.

It’s a perspective on modern wealth, privilege and greed that I really, really wanted to tell. I am confident in saying it hasn't been explored in interactive fiction yet (though correct me—and direct me 👀—if I'm wrong) and out of all the wealth/greed explorations I came up with, it's the one I have the closest personal ties to and the strongest feelings about. The characters and plans I had for it were detailed and I'm proud of them but at the end of the day... I just couldn't find a place for Leo in the story at large.

Leo was, in fact, the last main character I came up with, when I had already designed and fleshed out the larger story and started crafting the timeline of major events. I think the worst thing I could have done for a story and perspective that I care about this much is shove it into a plot that didn't have room for it at the very base level, regardless of how well the character or his story is written. Shoe-horned characters always stick out. I didn’t want to disservice Leo by having him be the character that did nothing or could be removed from the main plot without affecting it at all, y’know? That’s so much worse than just forgoing the indulgence, imo :((

ugh.... Leooooo 😭 I'm so sorry bb, I failed youuu 😥

[p-artsypants]

Integrity- Chapter 8

Ao3 | FF.net

Monday morning rolled around with a cool, all encasing fog. The gray mist that settled in between buildings, blotting out sunlight, and casting a refreshing coolness on everything blanketed underneath it.

It was glum.

Ladybug had escorted Gabriel to the police last night, as they had planned. Though he was drunk, Gabriel was well behaved. This allowed Ladybug to convince the Police to stay quiet about his arrest. Of course, it was inevitable that the media would catch wind of it, and it would be all over the news. 

But she just wanted to have a few days to prepare to announce it herself, and to give Adrien some time with his mother. 

He hadn’t come home last night, not that she expected him too. He may be gone for the rest of the week. Maybe longer. She couldn’t blame him for staying away. 

She just missed him already.

“Hey Marinette,” Alya greeted warmly. “Where’s Sunshine? He’s gotta get rid of this fog!” 

“Yeah dude, where’s my dawg?” Said Nino. 

Marinette smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. How much truth could she spare? This was Rena Rouge and Carapace after all. Surely they were trustworthy. Would Adrien mind?

“Um…he’s with his mother.” 

Nino and Alya just stared at her, dawning horror creeping on their faces. 

“He’s dead?”

“No!” Marinette scrambled to explain. “No, no…We found his mother yesterday. Well, he found her a few days ago, but we couldn’t do anything about it until last night.” 

Alya blinked a few times. “Okay girl, you lost me. You often lose me, but this is like—a whole other dimension. Can ya back up a touch?”

“I’ll tell you guys everything after school, but you have to promise me not to tell anyone.” She leaned closer. “This is just as secret, or even more so, as your secret identities.” 

Alya rapidly blinked again. “Wh-what?! What are you—how do you—What!?”

“That’s all I’m saying for now.”

“You can’t just leave us there!” 

“That’s all that’s safe to say here. Just...just trust me. Okay?” 

Alya took a long breath. They’d been through this before. Her trust was constantly being tested by Marinette. The absences, the tardiness, the forgetful ‘oh I have to go water my hamster’ ness. “Girl...I did trust you. But...are you going to finally explain what’s going on?” 

“Yes. I’ll tell you everything. If you’ll just be patient with me.” 

Alya exhaled, her shoulders relaxing. “Okay. I think that’s worth it.” 

They travelled together upstairs and into the classroom, where several other students milled about quietly. It seemed they hadn’t recovered from the turmoil from last week. 

Faces turned to her, weak smiles in place. Sincere enough, but lacking luster. She didn’t really blame them. She felt like that too. 

After some time, Miss Bustier arrived, and settled everyone in their seats. 

And then there was a knock at the door. 

“Come in.” 

Miss Bustier invited in the devil, and the mother of the devil. 

Lila. Lila was here. 

“Hello, Madam Rossi, are you vouching for Lila’s tardiness?” 

“On the contrary,” the woman said coldly. “Lila won’t be attending your class anymore, or this school, for that matter. But before we leave, I wanted to make sure she apologized to those she wronged.”

My my, what an interesting turn of fate. Lila stood in front, arms crossed, and full of spite. 

“Where’s Mr. Agreste?” Madam Rossi asked. 

“He’s not here,” Marinette supplied. “He’s visiting family.” 

“Ha!” Said Lila. “That proves it! If he wasn’t guilty, he’d be here!” 

“Hush, Lila. I’ve heard enough from you.” Her mother spat. “You, what’s your name?” He looked at Marinette. 

“Uh, Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” 

“Marinette—first of all, I want to apologize to you and your mother. She called me with concerns and I blew her off. In fact, I didn’t know there were any problems until I received a court summons at my workplace. Not only was my daughter lying to me about her after school activities, but she lied about the school being closed to take an extended vacation!” 

There were scoffs of disgust from around the room. 

“Mama...” Lila whined. 

“I said be quiet, child. Your lying has gotten too far out of control and I’ve had enough of it. It’s time your friends knew the truth. And you’re going to tell them. Now.” 

Lila swallowed. “Um...I didn’t actually go with my mother abroad for several months. I was at home. I told her the principal was akumatized and the school was closed.” 

“Now, about Marinette?” 

Lila groaned. “Marinette was right. I didn’t bully her at all. I made all that stuff up...” 

“And regarding Adrien Agreste?” 

“Adrien...never touched me. I lied. I was mad because I was fired from Gabriel for harassing Adrien.” 

“Anything else you want to get off your chest?” 

“No.” 

“Well, that’s a shame.” Madam Rossi huffed. “What do you have to say to Marinette?” 

“...I’m sorry.” 

“For?” 

“For lying.” 

“Not good enough, Lila. Try again.”

Lila hissed, like apologizing was actually, physically painful. “I’m sorry for tattling on you to your mom. And I’m sorry for trying to get you expelled.” 

Marinette pushed her luck. “...and for turning my friends against me?” 

“AND for turning your friends against you.” 

Eh. Good enough. 

“Now, Marinette,” said Madam Rossi. “Lila must apologize to Adrien, but she’s being sent back to Italy right away. Will you record it and make sure he sees it?” 

“Of course, ma’am.” Marinette took out her phone and turned on the camera. “Ready when you are.” 

Madam Rossi nudged her daughter in the ribs. 

“Adrien...I’m sorry I lied about you touching me. I’m sorry I lied to get into modeling with you. And I’m sorry I kissed your cheek without permission...and I'm sorry I spied on you.” With a little shrug, that’s where she ended it. 

Marinette stopped recording and leveled a glare at Lila. “You’re not really sorry, are you? You wouldn’t think anything was wrong if your mom wasn’t here making you apologize.” 

Lila didn’t answer, but her dead-eyed glare spoke volumes. 

“You’re a psychopath.”

“Oh you think you’re so smug! Just because my lies caught up to me first! But you’re just as much as a liar as I am, aren’t you, little miss goody goody?” 

Maybe she was being petty. Maybe it was adrenaline. Or maybe she really didn’t like being called a liar. 

Either way, she held back just long enough to look in her purse. 

Tikki gave her a firm nod. 

Time to be selfish. 

“Tikki, Spots on.” 

In a whirl of pink, Ladybug sat in Marinette’s seat and the room went dead silent. 

Except for Alya, who was making some choked wheezing sounds. 

“Happy now, Lila?” Ladybug said calmly. “Yes, I lied, and flaked, and ditched my friends. I hated every minute of it, but I knew fighting akumas came first, and everything else came second. I couldn’t tell a single soul until Hawkmoth was defeated. Not even my partner.” She leveled her gaze on Lila. “But you? You just lie because you can. You have no plans, you just lie and then lie again when someone calls you out on them. You don’t care. You never cared. All you care about is yourself. That’s the reason you got caught. I chose to reveal my secret because it’s safe now.”

“Shut up!” Lila barked. Then she actually threw a punch at the hero of Paris. 

Naturally, Ladybug dodged it like she had been moving in slow motion. 

“You’re the worst! This whole time I thought there were two stuck up, nosy, holier-than-thou bitches in Paris. But now I see it’s only one. You don’t deserve your fame or your powers! I could have had everything! Popularity! Friends! Adrien! Fame! Even powers like Hawkmoth promised me! But you had to ruin it for me! You always ruin everything! I hate you! I hate you!!” 

“Alright, we’re done.” Said Madam Rossi. She wrapped her arms around Lila, as she continued to wriggle and scream. “I see now that Italy isn’t going to be a good idea either. We’ll find a nice, quiet...resort for you for a little while.” 

But Lila just continued her screaming and kicking. Her mother had to forcibly pull her from the room. 

The door shut with a slam, Lila’s tantrum muffled down the hall. 

And then, Ladybug stood there, keenly aware of the actions she had just made in front of all her classmates. Even Miss Bustier was slack jawed. 

“I expect all of you can keep a secret of this magnitude. It would be best if you never even saw me transform.” 

Still silence. But Marinette dropped her transformation and sat down. 

Alya was the only one able to find a voice. “Why now? What changed?” 

“It’s safe now.” Marinette explained. “Relatively speaking. I’m certain that there’s people out there who still want to hurt me. But if we all keep this to ourselves, I see no harm.” 

“What about Lila?” Asked Alya. 

“Well, she does have a track record for faultless honesty. Who wouldn’t believe her?” Marinette said sarcastically. 

“Safe?” Nino asked, finding his voice. “Safe how?”

It was the sweetest truth in the world. “Chat Noir and I defeated Hawkmoth.” 

The sentence was like electricity, jolting the room with excitement, cheers, and hugs. Students scrambled to hug her in gratitude. 

“How?! When?!” Barked Alya. “There was no akuma! How did this happen!?”

Miss Bustier sat at the edge of her desk, resigned that there would be no learning today, but she really didn’t mind. 

“Espionage.” Marinette said, matter-of-factly. “And to be honest, it was mostly Chat. We just officially arrested him last night.”

“Who was he? How did it happen?! I need details!” Alya nearly screamed and grabbed her by the collar and shook. 

“Alya, calm down.” Marinette laughed. “I’d love to tell you all the details, but…I haven’t told anyone else yet. I have to address the public and write a speech…but I don’t even know where to start…”

Miss Bustier clapped. “Marinette! I have an idea!” 

She looked to her teacher, skeptical. “Yes?”

“A writing assignment for the class. You give us the details, everyone will take notes, and we’ll help you write the speech! It would be an excellent exercise for writing from an interview.” 

Marinette paused, crossing her arms and looking forward towards Adrien’s seat. 

Again, the news about Gabriel was going to be public at some point. If she could get it out quickly before the other media beat her to it, she might be able to manipulate the story in her favor. As angry as she was with Gabriel, his motive was fine, and he showed…remorse? Maybe he could be redeemed and maybe Adrien could have his family back one day. 

“As long as everyone promises to not talk about it to anyone, I don’t mind sharing the details.” 

There was another cheer around the class as everyone gathered their phones and notebooks to take notes. 

Miss Bustier clarified for everyone, “If you’re recording Marinette, the video promptly gets deleted after the assignment is over. It does not get posted on any social media, or get sent to anyone. This is for Marinette’s safety, do you all understand?”

“Yes, Miss Bustier!” Called the class, unanimously. After the dreadful behavior with Lila, no one was eager to get on Marinette’s bad side again.

Marinette stood at the front of the room, recounting what had happened, with the smallest twist of having Chat Noir as a separate character. If someone did blab, Adrien’s identity would be safe. 

“Adrien’s the hero of our story.” She began. “Gabriel Agreste was arrested last night at 10:30, coming peacefully and quietly. On Thursday night, he confided in his son, that he was in fact, Hawkmoth, and that his assistant was Mayura. He disclosed his purpose was to save the life of his wife Emilie, who had fallen mysteriously ill. He was under the assumption that the only cure was using Chat’s and my Miraculous. It is unknown where he got this idea from. Adrien was skeptical enough to flag down Chat Noir as he was doing a late night patrol. He explained the situation to my partner. From there, they waited until Monsieur Agreste went to sleep, before stealing the Miraculous off of him. Chat then delivered the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous to me, and further explained the situation. After consulting my resources, we visited M. Agreste and told him it was likely we could still save his wife without the need for our Miraculous. He then willingly gave himself up and apologized. He has been taken into police custody.” 

“Excuse me, Ladybug,” Alya called out, just like in a real press conference. “What happened to Mayura? Is she in police custody as well?”

“I don’t know about that. The police are aware of her involvement, but she was fired by Gabriel earlier this week. She wasn’t with him when he was arrested.”

“Are you going to go after her?”

“No. She no longer has a Miraculous. This is not a job for us anymore.”

Someone else raised their hand, Nathaniel. “How much do you want us to elaborate on Adrien’s involvement?”

“I only have Adrien’s best interest at heart. While I know he’d rather not be mentioned at all, I think it’s extremely important for the media to know that he was not complicit in his father’s actions.” 

“Where is Adrien now?” Asked Chloe, more out of concern than for the assignment. 

“He is with his mother while she gets treated. I won’t disclose that information to the public.” Then she added as a side note, “but if you want to know, ask me later, Chloe.” 

Chloe just took a relieved sigh and nodded to her. It seemed all the previous animosity between her and Ladybug, or even Marinette, had faded with all this new information. 

“Where are the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous now?” Asked Kim.

“Someplace safe.” Marinette smiled. “There’s no fear of someone else getting a hold of them.” 

“Are Ladybug and Chat Noir retiring now?” Asked Rose, full of emotion.

“Ladybug will continue her patrols, and try to help around the city. I haven’t talked with Chat about what he wants to do.” 

Alya raised her hand again, her eyes shining with excitement. “Any chance of auxiliary heroes getting to join you every once in a while?”

Marinette shrugged. “Perhaps.” There was no reason for them to, but with Gabriel behind bars, there was no reason for them not to. “Any other questions?” 

The class was frantically scribbling down notes, but there were no more raised hands. 

“I have plenty of off the record questions!” Alya called. 

“I’ll answer those later,” Marinette asked. 

“Alright,” began Miss Bustier. “These speeches will be due…Wednesday? Does that work for you, Marinette?”

“That should be perfect.”

“Wonderful. Then I won’t be giving anymore literature homework until then, because I want everyone to focus on this. Please write at least one page, double spaced. But more is fine. Ladybug has the right to edit whichever one she picks.” She glanced at the clock. “Goodness, that was almost the whole hour! I’ll give you the rest of the hour to talk among yourselves.”

—

While stories don’t typically have a happy ending in real life, Marinette was happy to note that things were working out nicely. The fog remained the rest of the week as Adrien stayed away from Paris. Juleka, of all people, ended up writing the most articulate, emotional, and accurate speech out of the bunch, and Ladybug presented it at a press conference with the Mayor. 

Stories of all sorts of accuracies came out of it from the media, but conspiracies were loudly silenced, as Ladybug’s speech in full was available to everyone. Gabriel had yet to make any statements of his own, but his lack of urgency only lended itself to the official story. 

It was over.

Gabriel’s trial would come in time, and Ladybug and Chat Noir would both be expected to testify, but the fight against Hawkmoth was over. 

Despite revealing herself to her family and classmates, Marinette felt light. Unburdened, and guiltless. The raised grades were a bonus. 

There was just one thing missing.

Adrien.

It had been a week since he stepped into that portal with his mother. He hadn’t taken his phone with him, but she never received a message from his baton. Not even a confirmation that he made it safely. 

After several days of solid dependence and partnership, she missed him terribly.

Then finally, late one night, she awoke to a flash of light on her balcony. She was instantly awake, throwing open the door to investigate. 

Belle Noir stood there, alone, and looking exhausted. 

“Adrien?” She asked softly. 

“Miss me, My Lady?”

“Unbelievably.”

Adrien dismissed his transformation and dragged himself over to her room. 

“So what happened? How is she?”

“Still asleep.” He landed on her bed, and took off his shoes. “Not likely to wake up for a while still…but she looks better. They told me to go home, since being around her and watching was making me ill.”

“Are you alright?”

“Just need a shower and a good night’s rest. Can I sleep next to you? I really missed you.”

“I wouldn’t want you anywhere else.”

After showering and shaving, a nice clean Adrien flopped onto Marinette’s bed. He inhaled deeply. “Hmm, I missed this smell.” 

“Weirdo.”

“Smells like bread and cinnamon and pretty girl.” 

“Do you want to hear about all the trouble I got into while you were gone?”

“All of it…if I can stay awake.”

So Marinette told it all, starting on Monday morning with Lila, and leading all the way up to the speech, which she showed him on her phone. 

“You just transformed? In front of everyone?”

She shrugged. “Not my brightest move, but Lila was accusing me of lying too…I just wanted to get it out in the air. I don’t regret it.”

“Did you tell anyone who I am?”

“Nope. I thought about telling Alya and Nino, but your identity is yours to tell. Or to keep a secret. It’s totally up to you.” 

Adrien had his eyes half closed, the comfort of the bed and the warmth from his girlfriend relaxing him to sleep. “I have some ideas.”

“Care to share?”

“No. Too tired.”

“Okay kitty.” She giggled. Then she shuffled down to lay beside him, before he latched on and nuzzled her. “Hmmmmm My Lady.”

“Goodnight Kitty Cat.”

“Night. I love…”

“I love too.”

—

In the morning, Marinette woke up to an empty bed. For a moment, she worried that Adrien coming back last night had been a dream. But his suitcase was open and rifled through. 

Confused, she got up and got dressed, and then came down for breakfast. 

“Morning Miss Hero.” Sabine said fondly.

“Morning mama…did you see Adrien this morning?”

“I didn’t, but your father did. Said he got up really early to take care of some stuff.

“‘Stuff’ huh? Sounds vague.” 

“I don’t know. But he said he’ll meet you at school. So instead of interrogating me, you can go to class and find out for yourself.” 

“Oh I suppose!” Marinette said, dramatically. Then she took a seat at the table and started pouring herself some breakfast. 

“They’re talking about the Hawkmoth story again.” Sabine gestured to the muted TV. “Some people are calling for a reinstatement of the guillotine.”

Marinette scoffed. “Yeah, maybe if there had been any lasting damage, maybe. But as it stands, no one died, no collateral damage…maybe some trauma I guess.”

“You’re being awfully defensive of the man you’ve been fighting the last year.” 

Marinette shrugged. “I just…want Adrien to have his family back. I know Gabriel has to face punishment, and jail might even soften him up to be a better dad when he gets out. I just want him to be able to have his dad in his life…even if it’s just a little bit.”

“Even after all this, he doesn’t hate his father?”

“I couldn’t say.” 

—

The fog had lifted. The morning sunlight was warm and bright, the birds chirped, the flowers bloomed. Adrien was back in Paris, somewhere, and all was right with the word. 

Marinette almost skipped to school.

Half of her class awaited her by the steps, and when she came into view, they all started calling for her. “Marinette! Marinette!” 

“Carry your bag to class?”

“Carry you to class?”

“Guys guys,” she laughed. “I’m flattered, but you don’t need to keep pampering me. It was fun last week, but we’re cool now, okay?”

“We just wanted to let you know that we were sorry and we appreciate you!” Said Rose, enthusiastically.

“I understand. And I forgive you. The cards, and the back rubs, and the foot rubs, and the manicures…I got it. But I don’t want our friendship to revolve around you guys just worshipping me. And I especially don’t want to be treated like this because of who I am. Let’s just…all go for ice cream this weekend?”

“Fine, but I’m paying for your ice cream!”

“No! I want to pay!”

Marinette chuckled to herself and led the throng of followers into the school. Maybe…one more week of being spoiled wouldn’t hurt. Right?

“Have you heard anything from Adrien?” Nino asked, as he asked everyday. 

“Actually, I did! I’m fairly certain he’ll be in class today too!”

Nino pumped his fist. 

“What should we do to make him feel welcome?” Asked Rose. “We were pretty crappy to him last time we saw him. After all he’s been through…”

Marinette looked over the remorseful faces staring at her. They wanted to make things right. 

“I think apologies, hugs, and just being there for him will be enough. I think he’d appreciate affection, but not being treated like he’s fragile. He’s incredibly strong, you know.” 

They all nodded, but she could hear them conspiring with each other about cards and a cake. She wasn’t going to fight them on this. Adrien needed his friends, and sincere ones at that. 

Walking into the classroom, Marinette’s eye immediately fell on the very expensive handbag on her desk. Chloe sat at her own desk, admiring her nails. 

“Is that—?”

“A Hermes Birkin Togo Handbag with gold Hardware? Why yes, it is.” 

“Why is it on my desk?”

Chloe shrugged. “what, that old thing? I got it, but it doesn’t match my wardrobe, so I figured you would appreciate it.” 

“But…this is new this season! It hasn’t even been released yet!”

“Well, it’s old to me. Give it to your mom if you don’t want it. It’s no skin off my nose!” 

Marinette gave her a genuine smile. “Thank you Chloe, this means a lot to me. Especially after all that happened.” 

“Are you talking about my silly little tantrum? Puh-lease. Even I’m not immune to the allure of pretty jewelry. But it won’t happen again, I’m over combs.”

“Well, I’m crazy about this bag, so thank you.” 

Chloe’s mouth twitched before she said, “you’re welcome.”

Alya and Marinette spent the rest of the morning gushing over the bag, because regardless of who it came from, it was a nice bag. Miss Bustier came in and started the lesson.

It was then that Marinette realized Adrien still hadn’t shown up. 

“I thought you said he was coming today?” Whispered Nino.

“I thought he was. He doesn’t have his phone on him anymore either.”

A few minutes passed before a black blur whizzed by the window. It back tracked and Chat Noir landed on the ledge, knocking on the window. 

“Chat Noir?” Miss Bustier asked as Kim opened the window. 

“So sorry I’m late! I was packing up some of my mother’s belongings to take to her later.” He stalked across the room, with Adrien’s bag draped over his shoulder. Then he stopped at Marinette’s desk, before stooping to kiss her on the lips. “Good morning, My Lady. Sorry I left without saying anything. I woke up early and I didn’t want to bother you.” 

“It’s okay.”

“Claws in.” 

And then it all clicked. The class went ballistic. There was screaming, hugs, well-intended punches, and overall excitement. 

Miss Bustier rolled her eyes fondly. “Guess I’ll have to remove your absences too, to be fair.” 

“Oh, sorry. When Marinette told me she revealed her identity to the class, I knew I had to too, and even more dramatically.” 

“You’re such a goober.” Marinette teased fondly.

“But I’m your goober!”

[jolgan]

Something Wicked Comes to Stay

Intro/Summary

Prologue

Rating: T

Warnings: teenagers making out, demons, knives, identity crises (plural), existentialism, strong language at times, violence (teenagers attacking each other in a controlled environment, mentions of gang violence, oh yeah, demons), Teen Angst and other dumb teenage bs

Word Count: 1551

Chapter: 2/?

Chapter 1

The integration of Magic School was met with varying degrees of concern and outrage from students and their families. But, even so, the decision was already made, and demons were admitted. Even with extra safety precautions put in place by the Elders, many families pulled their children from the school. Instead, they chose to educate them themselves or to send them to public school. The Halliwell family wanted to do the same, but the oldest students refused. CeCe was the most adamant. She argued that because she attended Magic School for her entire education she would not fit in at a public school. She had never been in a classroom with non-magical students and she was uncomfortable with the idea. Besides, all her friends were at Magic School. Chloe and Adam Halliwell agreed with their cousin and stood with her. Their parents did eventually yield, but the agreement was conditional. The three oldest cousins would be allowed to continue at Magic School, but they had to demonstrate they could use “the power of three.” This was a ridiculous stipulation. It was impossible. They were not the Charmed Ones. They weren’t even siblings. The only hope they had was that each possessed one of Melinda Warren’s powers.

 Specific powers alone were not enough, the cousins soon found out. Over the summer they went through brutal training. They had to learn to fight together, what each of their strengths and weaknesses were and how their powers worked together. They did have a close relationship from being so close in age and growing up together, which helped, but it was still bitter work. Their parents conjured “replica” demons for them to fight. The difficulty of each battle increased. The pressure came to a head when one training exercise ended badly. While fighting a replica brute demon, Chloe was seriously injured. The trauma of seeing his cousin in that state awakened Adam’s healing abilities. He was able to save her without intervention, but that was the final straw for Wyatt, who believed they were pushing their children too hard to achieve something that was impossible. P.J. also had growing concerns with the intensity of the training they were forcing their teenage children through. “My daughter almost died tonight because of your “training” exercises. Your son is probably traumatized from seeing her like that,” She argued to Chris. “My child is my problem. Besides, it would have happened eventually. It’s probably better that it happened now than later,” Chris reasoned. “If this is too much for them, then so is going to a school with evil students,” he finished. Overhearing this exchange, CeCe and Chloe came up with a plan. They were going to prove to their parents that they could manage demons and use their own brand of “the power of three,” they just had to get Adam on board. The girls went up to CeCe’s room to find Adam lying on her bed, his arm over his eyes. “You okay?” Chloe asked him, as she and CeCe sat on the edge of the bed. Adam groaned and his arm slid back to his side. He looked at Chloe. “Are you okay?” he asked seriously. She nodded. “Of course I am. You healed me,” she assured him with a smile. The three teens sat in silence for a few moments before CeCe broke it. “We came up with a plan,” she said, waggling her eyebrows. Adam tensed for a moment and sighed. He never was a fan of their schemes. “What kind of plan?” he asked her reluctantly. “I’m glad you asked,” she giggled, almost evilly. The girls explained their idea to their wide-eyed younger cousin. He stared at them in disbelief. “Wait a minute, let me get this straight,” Adam said. “An hour ago, you almost died fighting a fake brute demon,” he said as he looked at Chloe. “And now, you freaks want to summon a real one to try and vanquish it. Do you have a death wish? Do you need to talk to someone?” he questioned. “Come on, Adam, you can heal now!” Chloe said proudly. “I can’t heal you if I’m dead! I can’t heal you if you’re dead!” he all but screamed. “Okay, okay. Keep it down. We don’t want the parents to hear,” CeCe shushed. “Listen, I am not going to public school next year. I am going back to Magic School even if it means I’m going alone. You don’t have to get involved if you don’t want to. I’ll just do it myself,” she said as she started to get up. Adam caught her wrist. “Wait,” he gave in. “You don’t have to manipulate me. I don’t want to go to a human school either. I’m in.” CeCe’s face brightened. “Yes! You are the best cousin ever!” she exclaimed as she and Chloe both attacked him with a hug. “Yeah, yeah. Get off me. You two owe me for this,” Adam said pointedly. “I’ll give you my notes from Wiccan History and write all your spells for you this year,” CeCe offered. “I’ll help you with potions and tell you if any of your crushes like you back,” Chloe promised. “Deal,” Adam grinned. “Okay, great. Call for the book.” CeCe told him. “What? What if your mom is using it and it just orbs out by itself?” he asked. CeCe rolled her eyes. “She’s out of town, the only other people here are our parents and they are currently arguing downstairs. Get the book,” she pressed. Adam sighed and held out his hands. “Book of Shadows,” he called. The book appeared in his hands with a swirl of white light. “Let’s get to work,” Chloe cheered. With that, their preparations began. They studied the Book of Shadows and found every scrap of information that was available on brute demons. Unfortunately, not much was available that they didn’t already know. They had to write both a summoning and a vanquishing spell, which was more difficult than they thought, especially since they couldn’t really practice them. They could only make sure that they were as specific and accurate as possible, and pray that they worked. The cousins were very thorough. They went over every detail and every possible thing that could go wrong and made back up plans to cover that. If the vanquishing spell didn’t work, they hoped that CeCe’s combustion power would be enough, but during their potions lesson with Grams the next day, they brewed a potion that replicated it just in case. “Hey, Grams?” Adam asked, flipping to the right page in the book. “Would it be possible if we could make this one today?” “Why?” Grams eyed him suspiciously. “I’ve always been jealous of you and CeCe. I want to know what it’s like to blow something up! Besides, you wrote the recipe for it right?” His words were dripping with feigned innocence and flattery. A slow smile spread across Grams’ face. “Yeah, okay,” she agreed, but the suspicion never left her eyes. She wasn’t born yesterday. Adam sent a covert wink to the girls when Grams was distracted. After they brewed and played with the potion, Chloe made sure to stash a few vials in CeCe’s desk drawer. The next part of the plan was to perfect using the crystal cage. This was purely to be sure that they could get the job done before they got attacked and things started going wrong. It would be humiliating if they needed their parents to bail them out. Adam and CeCe both orbed to the attic late at night so he could practice sliding the last crystal perfectly in place. When they felt confident enough, they put their plan into motion. One evening after training, they set up the crystal cage in the conservatory. Chloe called their parents into the room and joined Adam and CeCe, potions already in hand. When their parents arrived the three of them began summoning the brute. When he appeared, Adam slid the last crystal in place using his power. The brute began to fight to escape from his prison. The cousins joined hands and recited the spell they wrote together to vanquish him. The demon burst into flames signifying that their spell had worked. The cousins reacted excitedly, thrilled that they were successful. When they were done celebrating, they looked over to their parents, who were wearing varying expressions of shock and amazement. “Did our fifteen-year-old kids just…” P.J. stammered. “Mine is fourteen,” Chris stated. “Was that a brute?” “I didn’t think there were spells to summon or vanquish brutes,” Wyatt pondered out loud. The older Halliwells were impressed with their children’s performance, but that didn’t save the teens from a lecture about how recklessly they behaved. By the end, they admitted that the cousins had proved themselves and they would be allowed to stay enrolled in Magic School. CeCe, Chloe, and Adam were thrilled. Of the nine magical Halliwell children, three remained at the school and the younger six were pulled out and sent to public school. The oldest three cousins were excited to see what it would be like to go to school with demons. Excited, but also terrified. It was a thrilling mix of emotion. They couldn’t wait for school to be back in session.

**A/N** I wanted this to just be a nice little recap and then to get right into the story, but they had other ideas. I am but a vessel, so who am I to argue? The boys are coming next chapter I promise!

[sasuhinasno1fan]

Just because we love you, we want to protect you - Adrien AUGreste Day 27

I saw this prompt, and I had to. I meant to add the words ‘just because’ a few more times but this is how it worked, so enjoy @adrienaugust Just Because

Adrien waited in the integration room. Well, it was more of a conference room but he felt like he’d been integrated since he arrived. Early that morning, he’d gone to the bank. He’s just moved back from London, gone from the place he called home for years after the falling out with his father and his aunt taking him because it was safer for him away from his father. He’d broken up with 3 of the greatest people he’d ever dated – never mind that it had been his first relationship – and had fallen out of contact with his friends.

But he was back now and he hoped he could at the very least repair his friendships. His aunt had sent him a hefty amount of money to help him with rent until he got his first pay check but because his bank was rather old school, they asked him to come down so he could sign off on appearance into his account. He’d been waiting in line, working on his checklist of things to do for the day when men in masks and with guns appeared, ordering people to get to the ground. It would seem that modelling had helped him think in high pressure situations as he focused on helping other hostages keep calm. His talking caught their attention and the leader of the group started to head over, ready to make an example of him. But then he stopped and stared at him, getting a good look, before his eyes flashed in recognition and he looked scared. He ordered his crew to stop, that they had to leave. The police had just started to mobilize just outside so the whole group had been caught and the hostages safely removed. They questioned everyone and when he mentioned how the thieves reacted to him, they asked him to come in.

He had his lawyer waiting for his cue to show up if need be, but they hadn’t taken his phone, they’d been very pleasant in their questions and so far, it seemed like routine questions. Except he could tell it wasn’t. there was something they were waiting for him to say, but he didn’t know what it was.

“Adrien Agreste, as I live and breathe.” He looked up and felt his eyes widen at the person standing in the doorway.

“Alix!” Alix Kubdel, one of his classmates from lycée, before he left for London, was much different. Her once pink hair was now red with black tips and the many piercings, she talked about wanting to get in class adorned her face. With the short sleeves of her police uniform, he saw she had a tattoo of a bunny with an umbrella on her wrist.

“Come here you!” she said, walking in, pulling up from his chair and squeezing him into a tight hug. She might still be shorter than him, but she was still as strong. “When did you get back from London?”

“Not that long ago actually. I’m finally moving back. I was one of the hostages…”

“from the bank robbery, yeah. I heard. Best way to start out here again huh?”

“Yeah. It was really weird and now I’m stuck here with them asking me questions I don’t know the answers to.”

Alix looked over her shoulder and closed the door before standing closer to Adrien. “Ok, listen. I shouldn’t tell you this but you should at least know. The thieves said they left cause they saw you.”

“Me? You’re not telling me my dad is still that terrifying.”

“Not enough to scare thieves, but that’s not it. They kept saying you were on the top of the list.”

Adrien felt even more confused. “What list?”

“There’s this huge crime syndicate group called the Miracular. Know to every criminal and if you want to live, you don’t get on their bad side. They have a ‘No Harm’ list and I guess you were on it.”

No Harm list? Miracular? Why did…it couldn’t be.

“Um, hey. What about Marinette, Luka and Kagami? What are they up to?”

A teasing smile came to Alix’s lips. “I see someone still holds a flame for them. well, you should know that even after you left, they never broke up. Created a fashion house called the Black Cat too.” Black cats were his favourite animal. “Mari does the fashion, Luka talks to the people and Kagami deals with the business. If you still feel the same, I could give you their numbers.”

Did he still feel the same? Of course, he did. No other relationship held a candle to them. first, he liked Marinette. After a misunderstanding they became friends and he was drawn to her bright energy, kind smile and unwillingness to give up. But there were times where she seemed so awkward around him that he thought she didn’t like him. Then he met Kagami, who was quiet and withdrawn but when brought out of her shell, was passionate and unyielding. She was the one who made him aware that Marinette was actually nervous around him due to how she felt about him. It left him feeling unsure of who to choose as he liked them both. Then Luka came into the picture. Like Kagami, Luka was happy to observe but he was a good listener who would encourage him to live how he wanted. He realised he had a thing for people with dark hair, kind personalities and willingness to help those they cared about, aka Marinette, Kagami and Luka. So, he gathered them all and told them how he felt. He was expecting to be let down so he could move on, but they all said they liked him and each other and they were all fine dating all at the same time.

Telling his father had been hard and getting both his dad and Kagami’s mom to accept their relationship had been a miracle. When they all did and Adrien came out to the public as bi and in a poly relationship, he always talked about how he felt like how happy he was was based on a miracle. That’s what they called their group chat, the Miraculous. He’d been so happy with them. when the falling out with his father happened, he’d spent the night with Luka and Marinette’s parents lied to Kagami’s mother that the girls were sleeping over just so they could go and be with Adrien too. When he was told he’d move to London with his aunt, he didn’t want to have to miss them even more through a long-distance relationship so with much difficulty, he explained that he wanted to break up. That last goodbye had been tearful and heart-breaking and he wanted to take it back so many times. He just felt like he didn’t deserve to. He put them in this position, he deserved the pain. No relationship even came close to making him feel that happy again.

“If that’s not too much trouble.”

There was something though, something Alix said. The group was called Miracular. Odd name but it felt too close to Miraculous. And he was on their No Harm list. He didn’t know why but if his wild imagination was right, could they be the reason?

                                             _____________________

“Hello, Tsurugi speaking.”

“Kagami? It’s me, Adrien.”

There as a slight shuffle before the line was silent and he had to check that she didn’t hang up on him. “Adrien?” she sounded breathless. He hoped that was a good sign. “Oh my gosh. I can’t believe it’s you. you went really quiet on social media not long after you left.”

“Yeah, I know. It was hard to see all my friends and not being able to be there. It hurt even more seeing you guys without me close me. I’m sorry.”

“No, no. it hurt, trust me it did, but we knew it was something you needed. Are you still in London?”

“No, I just moved back. I bumped into Alix and she told me you three are still together and running a fashion house together?”

“We are. Black Cat. We named it after you.”

His heart hurt, but in a good way. God, he missed them. “I missed you guys, a lot. No other person made me feel the way you guys did.”

“We missed you too. Like you wouldn’t believe. Look, I know this might be a little fast and you don’t have to say yes, but would you like to have dinner with us?”

“Yes.” He answered immediately. The fact that he was trying to figure out if his lycée sweethearts were related to this syndicate escaped his mind at the thought of getting a second chance with them. he wanted that more than anything. Besides, just because the name of the group was similar to their group chat name didn’t mean it could be related right?

Getting ready for dinner felt like the first date all over again. One of Marinette’s first creations for him was a suit jacket, but she’d made it too big at the time. She’d redone it but he still kept that first one. The smooth black fabric with the gold buttons and dark blue inside liner still looked amazing to this day. He pulled it on and looked at himself in the mirror. He was actually going to do this, see the 3 people he loved more than anything again.

The drive over their large mansion felt like that scene from Crazy Rich Asians though, where the cab was glared down by high end security guards. The cab driver felt a bit lost with the Japanese being thrown around, but thankfully Adrien never forgot the language.

“I’m Adrien Agreste, here to see Kagami Tsurugi.” He said in Japanese, handing them his ID.

He saw that same recognition in the guard’s eyes and heard him yelling at the others to back off, that he was safe.

“Please drive ahead. There’ll be someone to let you in when you arrive at the front door.”

There was. He was reminded of Kagami’s home, with the servants in traditional kimonos. One took his coat and another lead in to a sitting room where there was someone on the phone. He stood there staring at the guy in front of him. Luka’s hair had always been dyed blue but now it seemed he let the black grow out and kept the blue splattered in, looking like an ombre. His hair was much longer and pulled into a low bun, letting the earrings that lined his ear be shown. He was speaking to the other person on the line in Russian, something he rarely spoke when upon the Liberty, though when anyone had really surprised him, soft Russian curse words would slip through his mouth.

Luka quickly hung up when he spotted Adrien by the door. In moments he swept Adrien into a tight hug and didn’t let go. He still smelled like the sea.

“It’s so good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you too. I missed you guys a lot.”

They finally pulled away, but Luka took Adrien’s hands and walked backward until he perched himself on the arm of one of the chairs.

“3 things you liked about London.”

Adrien let out a surprised laugh. Luka would make him do that whenever he went out of town, tell him 3 things he liked about the place. “You actually remember that?”

“Of course, I do. Come on, Mari and Mi will take a while because Marinette wants to make sure they look perfect. So come on, humour me.”

“Ok, um 3 things I liked about London. 1, the Shakespeare Theatre was amazing. I saw a show in that room that’s all lit by candle light, it was amazing. You would have loved the guy outside though, pay him anything to typewrite a poem for you with any theme you want. 2, Covent Garden, mostly cause the Royal Opera House if right there once you get off the train. And 3, the history. Maybe not as much a Paris’ but still amazing. I wish I could have shown you guys everything. It took a while for me and Felix to start talking again. It was pretty lonely.”

Luka lifted his hands and pressed a gentle kiss on them. he used to do that to help Adrien calm down. “I wish we could have been there too. But you’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

The door opened and in walked Kagami and Marinette. Kagami had grown her hair out some and so did Marinette. The designer had her hair out, flowing down her back.

“Adrien!” he was pulled into another tight hug. God, he missed this so much. He missed them so much. “I’m so glad to see you. I was so happy when Kagami said you were back in town.”

“Here to stay I hope?” Kagami asked, pulling Adrien into a hug.

“Yep. Moved back last week. I hadn’t gotten around to trying to contact everyone but I bumped into Alix and she told me you guys started a company together and passed along your numbers. I’m just glad you said yes.”

“Of course, we did. Come on, dinner’s ready to be served in the Zen Garden.” Marinette said, tugging Adrien to follow her.

“Zen Garden?”

“You can thank Kagami for that.”

“More like my mother. She insisted.”

He’d been worried that dinner would become awkward but it didn’t. they all talked with ease, just like when they’d been dating. He was sitting next to Marinette and in between courses, she’d put her hands on his leg when she was talking to him. He felt Luka nudge at his foot and he and Kagami kept sharing glances.

“So, what are you going to be doing, now that you’re back?” Kagami asked as the dinner plates were taken away and dessert was put down.

“Working with a non-profit as one of their ambassadors. I’ll be working with the others ones and heading on events for donations. And I see someone remembered my favourite dessert.”

“Well, when I mentioned to my dad that Kagami invited you to dinner, he insisted on making you your favourite cake. Passion fruit vanilla.”

He missed the taste of it. No one made pastries quite like M. Dupain.

“So, how’d you bump into Alix? I know she’s been busy studying for her detective exams.” Luka asked.

Oh right, the main reason he called. “well, just this morning I was kinda a hostage in a bank robbery.”

“What? Adrien are you alright?”

“Yes, yes. I’m fine. They didn’t stay for long. Apparently, they took one look at me and decided it’d be a bad idea to continue. Alix said that there’s this crime syndicate group that has me on their ‘No Harm’ list. Which makes no sense, because I’m pretty sure I don’t know any criminals that would care for me that much.”

“Just because you don’t realise how much you can affect a person, doesn’t mean the meaning behind you being around just disappears.” Luka said.

“You’ve been a huge part of our lives. Even after we broke up, it was hard to forget you. couldn’t help but worry, even just a little.” Marinette continued.

“The thought of anyone hurting you doesn’t sit well with us. We know this is a bit soon, but would you be ok with perhaps…giving us another try?” Kagami asked.

It was becoming obvious to him what he’d been thinking of before, that his miraculous relationship had turned into something when he’d been gone. But even though he was gone, he still meant this much to them. maybe it was worth it to not get a straight answer just yet.

“Yeah, I’d really like that.”

[keywestlou]

JOY WITHOUT RESERVATION.....I REMEMBER IT WELL

Today the celebration of V-E Day. Victory in Europe.  Germany surrendered this day in 1945.

I remember it well.

I was only 10 years old. Even a 10 year old could understand. Ever since Pearl Harbor, World War II was the talk in every household every evening.

Whose father, brother, uncle, cousin, etc. was involved. Most on the front lines. Many had not been home in 3 years.

The country cried, yelled, smiled, and laughed. All part of the joyous celebration.

It was early morning when the news arrived. I was first aware that something big had occurred when I heard the noise of pans being hit with large wood spoons and whatever else was available. The wood spoons reflect I lived in an Italian neighborhood.

People were on their porches hitting the pans, yelling, screaming and crying. Extremely emotional!

Even now I have tears in my eyes recalling the event.

There was neither work nor school that day.

My father did the right thing by me. He took me everywhere. We lived in upstate New York in the City of Utica. One hundred fifty thousand population at the time.

We were out all day and into the night. Visited different parts of the city. Many porches had dummies of Hitler hanging from them. Certain neighborhood corners had people in the streets singing and dancing. Utica’s downtown in the evening when we visited was the same. Crowding shoulder to shoulder. Hugging and kissing. Singing and dancing.

Dad took me to Church also. In the middle of the day. It was packed. People quietly praying their thanks.

Our fighting men and boys were coming home.

Key West is on the map vacation wise! Finally, big time!

Not sure it is good, but it is where we are.

The Miami Herald reported yesterday that the Florida Keys have the highest hotel rates in the country.

Key West was particularly mentioned. For an “overnight stay in Key West, prepare to dig deep to pay for a hotel room. The cheapest double room $299. A bargain! Several hotels charging $1,000 a night.”

The article made mention of another Key West distinction. Key West is in the top five most popular destination sites in the world.

Key West is changing. In the past two years has already changed dramatically. I for one am not happy about it. Most locals would agree with me. Everything expensive, traffic heavy, visitors a new type, rowdy and cantankerous might best describe them, etc.

Little Key West is on its way to becoming big Key West.

Poor Alice Reid Griffin. She was the Madam of several whore houses in Key West and Stock Island at different times in her career. Her establishments were known as Mom’s Tea Room.

The Navy had a large contingency stationed in Key West in the late 1930s and through World War II. Many were her customers. Even the police were amongst her best customers. Seemed most men liked Mom’s.

The Navy was not thrilled. The Navy considered the activities at Mom’s to be immoral and also a place where the sailors were prone to acquire a sexual disease. The Navy was constantly beating up Key West leaders to arrest Alice and put her out of business.

They arrested her several times. Did not put her out of business till sometime in World War II. She had made her fortune. She purchased a home somewhere in Old Town to spend her final years.

Why Alice and Mom’s today? It was on this day in 1941 that Alice was convicted of violation of the Mann Act in federal court. The violation popularly known as white slavery. The bringing of a woman over state lines for purposes of prostitution. Alice had imported one her  girls from Atlanta.

No matter how you look at it. Whether you approve or disapprove of her conduct. Alice is part and parcel of Key West history.

Harry Truman was born this day in 1884 in Lamar, Missouri. The son of a farmer.

He could not afford college. Was an artillery officer during World War I. Following the war, he opened a haberdashery store in Kansas City. The business went bankrupt in 1922.

He then became involved in politics. While a U.S. Senator, he developed a reputation for honesty and integrity.

I consider Truman to have been one of our greatest Presidents.

The teflon man. John Gotti was the first to be labeled the teflon man. The reason being he was acquitted in so many criminal trials.

Ronald Reagan was next. Followed by Bill Clinton.

Questionable acts slid off all three.

Trump has had hanging over his head the Stormy Daniels matter. Stormy was a pornographic actress. It was 10 days before the 2016 election. Stormy was threatening to go to the press regarding her alleged sexual relationship with Trump.

Through his attorney Michael Cohen, Trump is alleged to have paid Stormy $130,000 to keep her quiet. Not a legal payment. A violation of the Election Law.

Cohen acknowledged his involvement claiming he did it with the knowledge and consent of Trump.

Trump never has been charged., He could be now without question since he is no longer President. It is not going to happen.

The FEC announced it is dropping the case against Trump re the $130,000 payment.

As a result, Trump has joined the ranks of teflon men.

I would like to know why the FEC dropped its Trump investigation? The public should be made privy as to how it came about.

Yesterday’s blog warned of grocery costs and the anticipated sky rocketing of them by later this year. Today the cost problem involves used automobiles.

As with groceries, the price of used cars has been “spiking.” Such is causing auto dealers to pay more at auctions to restock their tight supply.

The price of used autos does not seem to go down. If the cost continues to rise as predicted, a “scary-crazy” inflation will occur. The auto dealers will be left with an excess of used cars for sale. People will have refused to pay the new expensive prices for used cars. The auto dealers’ inventory of used autos could bury them economically.

Tonight dinner with Donna and Terri at 7 at a restaurant they selected in Bahama Village. I am looking forward to be with Donna and Terri after more than a year and also to be out and about in Key West on a saturday evening.

Happy Mothers Day! Wish my Mom was still here.

Enjoy your day!

JOY WITHOUT RESERVATION…..I REMEMBER IT WELL was originally published on Key West Lou

[wastefulreverie]

Vexed Vapors

Written for Phandom Bingo Week!

Danny didn't know at what point in his life he adjusted to international fame, but he took it in stride. It's not like he had much choice anyway, being a half-dead superhero that saved the world and all. The first few years after his exposure, he attended press conferences and graced the occasional fan convention (due to much persuasion on Tucker's part).

He was twenty-one when he appeared in his first commercial. He never really considered acting, but the agency approached him with a generous contract with a considerable amount of money. And let's be honest, working at FentonWorks was enough to pay the bills but if he was going to pay off his student loans, he needed as much cash as he could get.

His friends and family teased him about it. Endlessly. Especially that one time he was in a Super Bowl commercial (Talk about mortifying! The entire country saw that!), but he rolled his eyes and moved on. If it wasn't for those dumb commercials, he wouldn't have gotten his Engineering degree. Not to mention all those campus renovation fees he'd racked up from ghost fights.

"Tired of feeling like the living dead? I'm Danny Phantom, and I get it. Mornings can be difficult, that's why I start every day with a glass of SunnyD! Guaranteed to make every day feel more alive than ever!"

Years went by. Danny eventually got a real job at Axion Labs. It was a flexible enough position that he could duck out and fight ghosts at any time. As a result, he starred in fewer commercials. His fame waned a bit too; he was still the world's half-ghost hero, but nothing bad had happened in a while. The world was at peace and he was old news. Thank Clockwork. Fame was alright, but it was suffocating at times.

He and Sam settled down and had two kids: James and Lilith. They both gradually developed their own powers, much to Danny's relief. Neither of them had come out of the womb flying and didn't even learn to transform until they were both five, so that saved him a lot of stress. His worst fear had been superpowered babies… now that would've been a disaster.

When James was eight, they finally decided to try public school. Predictably, they pulled him out within the week and resumed homeschooling. Ghost powers and children simply didn't mix. Eventually, his kids would integrate into society, but not until they were much older. Not until their cores had fully developed.

Seven years later, Lilith was ready to enter the seventh grade. Unlike James, she had no previous experience in public school so she was understandably nervous. Her parents had assured her that she didn't have to go, but Lilith was determined.

"I'm thirteen! My powers are mostly stable and I just want to hang out with normal girls my age. Besides, Mom's a good teacher and all but… I'm almost ahead of her in math."

"We understand," he said, "but if anyone gives you a hard time or if you get nervous, don't feel obligated to stay there."

Her eyes widened. "What? You think people might… make fun of me because I'm a ghost?"

Danny glanced at Sam. He certainly considered it, but that was because after all these years he was still a little insecure about his own ghostliness. Sam picked up on his uneasiness and answered for him.

"There's a chance that some kids will try to test you, bait you because you're different than them. Stay away from those kids; anyone who sees differences as a bad thing wasn't raised right. And just know that being a ghost doesn't define you, it doesn't define your Dad or your brother or your Aunt Elle."

Lilith nodded. "Alright. Thanks, Mom!"

Danny saw her off to school and watched her walk through the front gates of Raven Middle, the same school that he, James, and Sam had attended. Lilith would be the last in their family to walk those halls before joining her brother at Casper High. How had they gotten here? It seemed like only yesterday that Sam was trying to free the frogs.

Somehow, it'd been nearly twenty years since those days. His kids were growing up so fast… he couldn't wrap his mind around it. Tears welled at the edge of his vision and Danny didn't brush them away.

"Dad," James coughed. "Are you gonna just stare out the window or do I need to fly myself to school?"

Danny snapped out of his reverie. He couldn't believe he forgot he still had to drive his eldest to Casper High.

"Yeah." He blinked the tears out of his eyes, hoping that James didn't catch them. "School, yeah."

When he picked Lilith up from school, she was visibly upset. Her backpack hung heavy on her shoulders and her eyes were pink with tears. Damn it, he chastised himself. I knew we should have waited.

"I hate you," she decided when she opened the car door.

He wasn't expecting that.

"I, um, alright? What did I do?"

His daughter had never said that to him before. She'd told Sam she hated her a few times, but Lilith… Lilith was a Daddy's girl. She always had been. They got along well, much better than Danny remembered getting along with either of his parents, and he loved it. This sudden change in attitude unnerved him.

"It's all your fault!" she threw her hands into the air dramatically. "All of it!"

"Lilith," he said slowly. "What are you talking about?"

"'Vaping drains the life out of you, trust me I know, I'm half-dead,'" she quipped. "'Know the real cost: save your brain, save your life."

He gaped at her. That was the line from his latest commercial. He hadn't done one in a few years, but some anti-vaping company had made him an offer and he figured to accept it for old times' sake. He wasn't really that into the smoking-vaping debates, but from what they told him he could see semblance in the anti-vape argument.

"You're a freaking meme, Dad! A meme!"

"Oh," he said dumbly. "I am?"

"Yes. Yes you are! Everyone asked me if I'm half-ghost because I vaped too much! I can't handle this."

"Did you… at least make friends?"

"Oh yeah," she said flippantly, "I have a bunch. Everyone fought over who got to sit with me at lunch."

His guilt dissolved. When he was teased about his parents in school, it was always malicious. At least the kids at her school were actually interested in befriending her… if not for all the commercial jokes.

"Why did you have to do it?" she asked. "Why did you have to do that commercial?"

He laughed. Lilith was going to be just fine.

… at least until the other kids learned about her ghost sense.

Prompts: Post-Reveal and Next Gen.

[ngame989]

“Change” - TGG SVTFOE Fanfic Collection Ch. 3

Writing: @ngame989​​

Art: @toxicpsychox​​ (make sure to follow him for bonus pics from the story!)

Editing: @bmc-nightfury​​, @seddm​​

Alternate fic links - FFnet, AO3

Summary: Star, Marco, Tom, and Janna celebrate Earthni's first Halloween and get a taste of what life's like for the rest of its inhabitants.

Comic Page

Masterpost

See below for the text, hope you enjoy! Sorry for the delay, we’ll be back in a few days with the comic page!

Flying was one of the most exhilarating feelings for Marco Diaz. He flung his arms out to the side, letting the wind ripple around and through his hair, his face, and the open front of his hoodie. With a world this beautiful and vast, who even needs the hoodie, anyway? It’s just weighing him down, preventing him from truly feeling as free as he knows he can be. He shifted positions, dramatically discarding the hoodie and feeling the crisp autumn air on his upper body through only the thin grey t-shirt. Suddenly it struck him: how exactly was he flying without Nach-

“Pfffthbtbt, Marco, what the heck?!? You got hoodie stuck in my teeth!”

Marco tried to glance at the familiar voice that interrupted his thoughts, but he was blinded by the sun gleaming in the purple sky. His arms instinctively were brought up to shield his vision. Wait, Marco realized, hadn’t he been holding on to something? Panic set in, both at the feeling of losing something important and at not even being able to recall what it was. It was uncanny, the moments he’d just experienced felt as vague and distant as anything he’d experienced in the Neverzone...

The view of the stunning Earthni landscape beneath him was obscured by a massive dangling ribbon in front of him, disrupting his contemplation. It was utterly tantalizing, almost demanding his attention. He shifted positions, reaching forward as far as he could to catch it, tugging the ribbon to his body and wrapping himself up in it, nestling deeper into his fabric cocoon and feeling briefly at ease. Wait, where exactly was he again? Something felt off, but the unnerving thought dissipated entirely once more at the soft touch on his head. Two large fingers tousled his hair to and fro, giving him a sense of contentment he didn’t know was possible. A glance skyward revealed the face of a giant Star Butterfly towering over him with a soft smile as she pet his head in the safety of a pocket sewn into her narwhal dress. Did that dress even have a pocket? And how was he here? Why was Star so big? As his mind sluggishly tried to work out what wasn’t gelling about the whole situation, his gaze followed their ribbon higher and higher until it finally reached the red balloon guiding them through the sky.

“OK, Marco, payback time!” she shouted with glee, flicking her head and whipping a tuft of flowing golden hair directly into his face.

“Bleh, Star, your hair… ptooey, Star, your hair is in my mouth… Get it out… Star? Star! Star!”

…

His eyes snapped open, senses on high alert, rapidly regaining his full cognitive faculties. He felt a light sheet draped on top of him; he was in bed, in his pajamas, with no hoodie or jeans in sight. Something large was still wrapped in his arms, but this time there was a warmth and softness that invited him to snuggle in deeper. The last thing he noticed is that his face was still completely buried in blonde tresses, and it all clicked.

“Thanks Roy, these goblin dogs zzz are absolutely zzz deliiiiiicioooouuus zzzzzzzzz”

“Star...”

“Why yes, I would like to try strawberry-flavored zzzzzzz”

“Staaaaaaar… wake up. It’s almost...” He tried and failed to peek around the veritable curtain in his face. “I don’t actually know what time it is, but we should still get up, today’s the day!”

“Totally, totally, totally, just 5 more minutes, Marco… 5 more hours…”

Marco sighed and lifted his head, freeing his face from the hairific onslaught and sighing into the crook of her neck. The leftover hint of strawberry shampoo danced through his nose, infatuating him as he pulled Star closer and felt the silky fabric of her gown softly graze his hands. She laughed and cast aside her favorite teal pillow with a heart she had been holding, gripping his arms instead, both enjoying each other’s company and affection - a fairly common occurrence these days.

Three months of this kind of paradise. Well, close to it, anyway; that first night on Earthni had been a one-off incident at the time, but it still hadn’t been long until unintentional movie marathon naps became slightly less unintentional and eventually moved to the comfort of one of their beds altogether, allowing them to spend nights in each other’s arms and sleep in at their leisure. And why not? They had all the time in the world. Marco was technically done with high school, and Star certainly wasn’t that upset that there wasn’t a fully integrated school system for Earthni quite yet. Besides, formalized education wasn’t much of a thing on Mewni anyway, and she wasn’t a “foreign exchange student” bound by Echo Creek’s norms anymore in this new world of theirs. They’d answered a few questions to the public about the Cleaving and spent a bit of time in the limelight, of course, but otherwise they were finally free of the burdens that had been on their shoulders for most of the time they’d known each other. It was the summer vacation they’d longed for, even though the season had passed them by long ago.

Suddenly, a knock at his door interrupted their bliss. “Star, Marco! Lunch is almost ready!” Angie sing-songed through his door. That woke both of them up - not because his mother had caught them innocently canoodling the night away, as that boat had sailed a while ago with a fairly predictable acceptance (though not without some teasing), but because lunch? How long had they slept in? Star bumped into Marco’s forehead when she bolted upright, startling him so much that he backed up off the bed into a heap on the floor.

“Marco! Gosh, Marco, I’m sorry-”

“M’okay,” he groaned, letting her help him uncrumple his body and stand up straight. They scrambled around the room to gather the discarded boxes of Sugar Seeds from the night before and shared their usual quick good morning kiss before splitting off to get ready for the big day ahead of them. Ten minutes later, Star emerged from her room with one of her older dresses, sky blue with two belts minus the fuzzy leg warmers, and skipped over to the stairs to slide down the railing into the dining room where Marco was already seated. Angie brought turkey sandwiches on the table.

“Good morning, you two. Sleep well?”

“We were up waaaay too late marathoning the new season of Fiesta de la Noche. I think it was the Sugar Seeds, please never buy the ‘Oops! All Corn Syrup!’ flavor again.” Marco winced at the lingering stomach pain.

“It’s sugar made from corn, why would you ever think I wouldn’t buy it?” Star scolded, adding some table sugar from the shaker the Diazes had repurposed for Star (leading to a few accidentally ruined dinners in the first week) to the fruit salad on the plate.

He playfully rolled his eyes and dug into his meal. “So, mom, where’s dad?” he mumbled out between bites.

“BOO!” No one even flinched at Rafael’s entrance from the back door.

Marco groaned. “Dad, are you trying to scare everyone again this year?”

“Haha, no, Marco. Last year I thought, ‘Why go for scary when nothing could ever top a hungering spirit almost devouring your loved ones, sending you into a manic frenzy?’ But then a lightbulb struck me on the head: I can simply bring joy and happiness instead of reopening the wounds of the most traumatic night of my life, haha!” Marco vacantly boggled at his father for a few silent moments, trying and failing to find any possible words in response, but there was no need as Rafael spoke up again. “Oh, and River is helping too!”

As if on cue, Star’s dad barreled through the back door dripping sweat. “I’m a riot with the youngsters, this will be a blast! Rafael, my good man, thank you so much for inviting me to participate in your culture’s festivities. Now how far would you like the catapult to fire the children?”

Rafael nervously chuckled as he lead River out the back door; the families got along swimmingly, but it was clear that neither had fully adjusted to every idiosyncrasy of the other. Marco and Star, having just finished the last of their lunches, followed out the back door and gaped at the spectacle. A giant corn maze occupied at least half of the massive property the Diazes now occupied, catapults of varying sizes had been built with landing pads, a few carnival-looking booths stocked with buckets of candy were set up with games Marco didn’t even recognize, and it was all topped off with decorative ghouls and skeletons scattered all around. The teens’ eyes bugged out of their heads as they processed the scene. How the heck did they sleep through the assembly of all of this? An instantly recognizable revving sound approached from the side; Marco’s eyes lit up as he ran over and gave his favorite dragon-cycle a big hug.

“Oh, Boo-Boo, good to see you!” he cooed, affectionately stroking her scaly head while she purred. A few weeks ago, she spotted him by chance in Monstertown while they were helping Eclipsa finish up some new housing, and after a tearful reunion the Diazes (who were a bit apprehensive upon finally learning what a dragon-cycle actually was) had built a stable in their backyard for her. She came and went as she pleased, but was more than happy to ride with Marco like they always had, occasionally with Star in tow.

Rafael approached and tentatively patted her on the head once, which caused her to defensively nuzzle into Marco. “By the way, Nachos asked if she could help us tonight with the Halloween chicanery and maybe give the kids some little joyrides… if that is OK with you.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet of you, girl!” Marco cooed. River hollered excitedly at Star and Rafael to show them his latest contraption, leaving Marco alone with his companion. His warm gaze turned steely in an instant as he knelt to the ground, looking directly into pink reptilian pupils of his dearest dragon-cycle.

“Thanks for doing this for me, Nachos, I owe you one. Remember the plan, OK? Keep an eye on them and keep everyone in one piece. You have my number if anything goes wrong, right?” She matched his serious demeanor and nodded sternly, at which he softened and kissed her on the forehead before scratching that spot on her neck that she always enjoyed. “I can always count on you, girl.” He stood up quickly to prevent any suspicion when he heard Star chatting to their dads as they approached the house once more.

“OK, dad, try not to have too much fun tonight. Last Halloween I was here, everyone almost got eaten.”

“No promises, sweetie!”

Star waved goodbye with a cheery grin before turning to Marco, eyes widening while maintaining the grin for an exaggeratedly concerned effect. Marco snickered and took her hand, heading back inside the house for their next mission. With all the shenanigans going on tonight, everyone decided it was best for Mariposa to not be in the house, so Star had volunteered to take her with them tonight, which meant she’d need a costume. The pair split apart to gather their supplies for the task. Star took a quick peek into the nursery and found Marco’s angel of a baby sister fast asleep in her crib, fortunately not disturbed by all the happenings around the house. Star went into Marco’s room and cleared off the floor for them to work, mere seconds before a big ball of purple fluff barged through the door.

“Can you believe that girl at the fabric store?” the bundle scoffed, revealing itself to be Marco after unceremoniously dumping piles of fabric and sewing supplies on the ground. “How can you not tell the difference between lavender and heliotrope? It’s so obvious! Even with the swatches from Turdina I’m still not sure if these are the right colors, and I will not settle for anything less than perfection for my little Turdinita-”

“OK, Marco,” Star huffed out. Like everything he did, it was still cute when he entered diva mode, but it was still near the top of the annoyance list. She rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him downwards and pecking him on the lips - mostly to shut him up - before putting a finger on his chest and pushing him onto his bottom in front of her. “Let’s get this done, OK? I know that you and Tom are gonna take, like, an hour on the makeup for your costumes.”

“Our trial run clocked in at 44 minutes sharp,” he retorted with a smirk, laying the sewing pattern out to start arranging the fabric. Minutes turned to hours as they toiled away, carefully picking out the colors and textures from the vast selection of cloth Marco had procured. Star was no slouch at the craft - she had decorated Marco’s cape by hand, after all - but every time she glanced over at Marco pouring his entire self into every thread and sequin, she couldn’t help but smile.

Marco carefully balanced a pin between his teeth, holding it up to make sure the design was coming together, then put it down to see Star dreamily staring at him. “Uh, Star? Is something up?”

“N-nothing,” she stammered in response, preparing the accessories for the finishing touches.

“Hey, I just realized… you still haven’t even told me what your costume is yet!” He handed the fabric over to her to begin cleaning up the massive mess of scrap around his person.

“I did tell you it’s a surprise, and I’m sticking to that! You and Tom went all gung-ho on the whole ‘bullfighting’ thing from the beginning. A girl’s gotta have her secrets, Diaz!”

“OK, OK,” he held up his hands in surrender, “I’m sure it will be amazing. Anyway, how does the dress look?”

Star scooted over beside him and held up the frilly purple outfit in front of them, flipping it over and around to get the full view. “Looks like a job well done to me!”

Marco’s eyes glistened at the sight. This whole thing had been his idea, wanting to make his baby sister’s first Halloween something special even if she wouldn’t remember it (there would be ample photographic evidence, his parents would make sure of that). But in some way it was also his way of commemorating his old life and what they’d left behind. Although Star had perhaps been the most dramatically affected by the Cleaving, losing the magic she’d known all her life, he had his own friends and adventures across the multiverse too. Earthni was special in its own unique way, and he certainly wouldn’t trade it for anything, but he didn’t want to forget the parts of his life he’d left behind. Shutting his eyelids and taking a deep breath and feeling a bit of moisture squeeze out, he wrapped an arm around Star, pulling her into his side. “Thanks for helping me with this, you didn’t have to-”

“Marco, you know I’d do anything for Mariposa. And it’s fun just spending time making stuff together!”

“We are pretty good at this, aren’t we?”

“Eh, I’d give it a passing grade.” Marco and Star jumped to their feet striking a tag team battle pose in the direction of the unforeseen intruder... and found Janna sitting on Marco’s bed, surfing something on her phone which was rested on Star’s pillow without so much as looking at them in acknowledgment.

“Janna!?” Marco asked incredulously. “Wait, shouldn’t you be in school?”

“I told them I was half-demon after the whole Severing Stone thing and they ate that riiiight up, so I’m exempt from human school now.” He could do nothing but blink in disbelief. “Anyway, on my way over I saw your dads with both their shirts off for some reason and I really didn’t feel like dealing with that so I just snuck in through the window. Oh, and I brought Meteora, too.”

“Wait, what? Where is she then?”

“On your head.”

Marco looked up and saw Meteora clinging to the ceiling before staring directly down at him and dive bombing, taking them both to the floor and giggling at his expense. Star helped him up and took the baby from him, calming her relatively easily by virtue of not being Marco Diaz.

“OK, but Eclipsa didn’t tell us about this! Why do you even have her?”

“Look, guys, it’s not a huge deal. She needed some help this morning and your parents told her you two were ‘busy’,” she said, holding up the pillow in one hand with the air quotes, “so she called me instead. Some monsters were, I dunno, worried about Halloween a bit or something and Eclipsa was dealing with that but still wanted Meteora to go trick or treating.”

“So you’re saying that Eclipsa wants Mariposa to bring her back a lot of chocolate.”

“Bingo.”

Star pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. “OK, fine, whatever. What’s this about being worried about Halloween?”

Janna shrugged her shoulders impassionately. “The whole schtick of Halloween is using the idea of monsters to try and scare people, and they’re a bunch of monsters who don’t want to be seen as scary.” She stood up and tossed her phone up and down a few times before slotting it into her pocket and finally addressing Star and Marco directly. “Whole thing’s a load of crud if you ask me, I’m totally down with monstery quirks. Plus you wouldn’t have to worry about costumes! Like, look at the munchkin there, she’s got pointed ears and a tail. It’s already better than anything I ever went trick-or-treating in.”

Meteora briefly stirred, as if picking up on the talk about her, and Star motioned everyone to the door with her head. The trio moved into the nursery quietly to put Meteora in the guest crib they kept around for her frequent visits, then went downstairs to continue their conversation.

“I mean… it can’t be that big of a deal, right? Costume parties were a thing on Mewni, too, and not everyone who showed up was a Mewman. I doubt it will be perfect, but everyone’s been getting along pretty well so far!” Star said with some emphatic hand-waving.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Marco responded. Admittedly, Marco wasn’t entirely sure. The residents of Echo Creek were generally pretty accepting, in his own experience, but it was never a certainty. Tensions could linger for a while unseen, and one could never know exactly when they’d boil over. But being with Star had taught him a lot about trying to see the best in the world, and he found himself able to share the overall feeling of optimism.

“Plus, I don’t think any kids are gonna climb all the stairs to the Temple,” Janna chimed in from the couch.

“That too,” Marco replied without looking away from Star. “It’s our first big holiday together, and- and I just want this night to be about us having a blast with all our friends and getting a whole truckload of candy!” he yelled triumphantly, taking Star’s hand. Her shining ocean pools focused entirely on him and blazed with the same determination he had.

“I’d tell you two to get a room, but...”

Marco’s eyes went wide as he blushed, causing Star to finally end their moment of emotional vulnerability with a contagious laugh (and light blush of her own) that Marco quickly joined. Once it subsided, Star took Marco’s other hand in hers. “Yeah, you’re right. Hopefully nothing too unexpected hap-”

The front door violent opened with a burst of flame and smoke entering through. Marco shrieked and leapt in fright, being caught and cradled by Star. What could possibly have done such a thing?

“Hey guys, how’s it hanging?”

Oh. That’s what. “Hey Tom,” Marco sighed out, hopping down from Star’s arms as the smoke cleared from his dramatic entrance and Tom closed the door behind him.

“Am I, uh, interrupting something?”

“Marco got freaked out when you burst open the door,” Janna ever-so-helpfully provided.

Tom raised an eyebrow at Marco judgmentally. “You’ve lived with Star for years, come on, dude.”

“I’m not on guard for it when she’s directly next to me!” he cried defensively with his voice cracking, extending his arms in her direction to punctuate his statement. “Anyway, Tom, you ready for the big night?”

“You know I am,” the half-demon responded, meeting Marco in the center of the room for a high-five. “Alright, we should get costumes ready. We’ll be in Marco’s room if you need us.” As they ascended the stairs, Marco caught Janna making some sort of comment about to Star about “stealing your man” - he shouldn’t have expected much different. As soon as they got into his room, he went into his closet to gather all their costume pieces as Tom shut the door. “I can’t believe you humans basically have a giant costume party once a year where everyone gets candy. I could probably, like, just walk around like normal and it would still count. That’s too cool.”

Marco sat them both down on his bed and began to wipe his face off. “Eh, it’s pretty tame usually. Two years ago, Star and Janna summoned a ghost that ate everyone and my dad had to wrestle it to get everyone back. The inside of his belly smelled like licorice, it was awful. But it was an interesting Halloween.”

“Hungry Larry?” Marco assented while beginning the first layer of foundation. Tom laughed and held Marco’s arms at bay while he regained his composure. “Not a demon curse, but I’m familiar. Of course it was those two. OK, man, you can’t tell me funny stories like that, we’ve gotta get this done and we don’t need any distractions.” Marco nodded, always happy to see someone share his dedication to the craft. Foundation, then outlines, then filling in with white… the process stretched on for minutes as the basic design became evident. He sat back to observe it from multiple angles. While Marco switched brushes to begin the detailing, Tom spoke up once more. “I’ll be honest, man, I was kinda surprised about this. Figured you and Star would do a couple costume or something.”

“This idea was too good to pass up, though. Plus, I thought it’d be cool to do something like this with you! I mean, you are one of my best friends,” Marco rubbed the back of his neck, realizing too late that he had had a bit of white face paint on his hand.

“Well, it’s super cool, so thanks.”

Once Marco put the finishing touches on, he held up a mirror for Tom. The reflection showed his face transformed into a skull with ornate patterns everywhere. When Marco had come up with the idea for bullfighting costumes, Tom had been pretty disturbed by the fact that the bulls were killed. Marco had to admit it was pretty cruel, but after learning about Día de los Muertos, Tom suggested an Underworld-themed bullfight (where the bulls were already dead). Tom offered a fist-bump which Marco proudly accepted, and then the two switched places to begin the process all over again.

As Tom reached over to grab the makeup, his eyes lingered on the pillow with a heart at the head of Marco’s bed. His eyes darted back and forth between the pillow, all three eyes widening. Marco followed his train of thought and- oh no. “Tom, it’s not what you think-”

Tom raised his hands defensively. “Dude, I won’t judge.”

Marco sighed. What did he do to deserve this all in one day? “It’s not like that- OK, it’s not like that that, just… yeah.”

Minutes ticked on in silence while the steps were redone on Marco’s own face. Foundation, white paint, highlights… It was only when Tom got to the final ornate decals that Tom spoke back up again after sketching the outline on Marco’s face. “For the record, I know we haven’t really talked about it much but when I told you I was cool with you two getting together, I wasn’t just bottling stuff up or anything, OK? Yeah, breakups suck, but I’m pretty sure after a day or so my mom was taking it harder than me,” he chuckled with a toothy grin. “I know we haven’t, like, talked about it much since then, but you two are perfect for each other. I’m happy that you’re happy, dude, and more importantly I’m happy with myself too.” Words stopped once more as Tom focused to finish the pattern, showing Marco his own face in the mirror much to his delight. Everything came together flawlessly, and even faster than they’d anticipated. Marco breathed a sigh of relief at still managing to accomplish everything they needed to before trick-or-treating officially began. Part of that relief, he had to admit, was due to Tom’s words as well. Of course he didn’t think Tom resented him or anything, but knowing that they weren’t just “cool” but completely free of any potential past baggage felt like a weight off his shoulders. Marco leaned in and gave Tom a one-armed hug, clapping him on the back. “I take it you’re happy with the makeup job?” Tom joked.

“Well, your contouring is flawless. But it was mostly for the other stuff.”

“Anytime, man,” Tom responded, punching his shoulder lightly with a smile.

“Alright, costume time.”

***

“Star, seriously, do I have to do this?”

“Trick-or-treating starts in a few minutes, so too late nooo-oow!” Star sing-songed, bouncing over to the top of the stairs. “Are you boys down there?”

“Yeah,” she heard both Tom and Marco reply from the living room downstairs.

“Alright, Janna, it’s showtime!” Star grabbed her hesitant friend by the wrist and practically dragged her down the stairs. “Introduciiiiiiiing… Starberry!” She twirled in place once for effect, showing off her full body strawberry suit complete with themed headband and boots, then pulled Janna out from behind her, who had her hand on her forehead. “And Janna Banana!” She’d begrudgingly put on the main banana costume but had vehemently declined to wear the rest of the ensemble Star had picked out for her, sticking with her normal outfit instead, which Star was willing to accept.

Marco and Tom stared wide-eyed for a moment, turning to each other, then the girls, then to each other again, then back to the girls, mouths agape.

“How… what… wuh…” they both stammered incoherently, before bursting into raucous laughter, holding onto each other just to stay standing.

“God this is stupid,” Janna grumbled under her breath.

Star waited until they were done before explaining herself. “OK, so remember that night at D&D where Janna bet me I couldn’t beat the cyclops horde and I did?”

“You were only able to do that because you, and I quote, ‘rolled for cuteness check’ so they’d adopt you instead and Ferguson allowed it for some reason.”

“Well, maybe it’s because my character is incredibly cute!”

“Your character is just an elvish Marco.”

“Exactly. Anyway, since you guys were already doing your own thing for Halloween, I thought Janna and I would, too! Fruit Friends!” Star shrilled, hugging Janna and wiggling her back and forth.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Well, you both look great,” Marco giggled, walking over and flicking the strawberries on Star’s headband. “Where did you get this?”

“Dad helped me make it. He’s surprisingly good at arts and crafts. You two look pretty nice yourself.”

“Thanks. Tom wouldn’t wear the rest of the costume, though, but it’s still OK.”

“I’m not wearing a full body fursuit, Marco. But I can definitely do that thing bulls do in cartoons,” he coolly smirked, before blowing a puff of smoke with a bit of flame from his nostrils. Tom had a large nose ring and a bushy tip on top of his tail, but otherwise was wearing a pretty standard dark jacket on top of a maroon button-up shirt with dark slacks.

Star turned back to her boyfriend, looking his flashy getup up and down. “You look pretty nice yourself, Diaz,” she crooned playfully. “Although you missed out on the opportunity to be Mango Diaz for the night, bub.” The skull-themed makeup was absolutely divine, as she expected from the boys - they were frankly better at it than her. The ornate gold decorations all over the jacket and high-waisted pants looked sharp on top of the red base, and she was never one to complain about a nice white dress shirt and black tie, either. “Heh, I don’t want to mess up the makeup but-”

Marco cut her off with a brief kiss, taking her by pleasant surprise, and when her eyes fluttered back open he gave her a half-lidded stare and a smug grin. “Don’t worry, we used sealer.”

Janna moaned at the couple and slumped onto the couch. “Let’s just go get candy already.”

“Are you kids leaving soon?” Rafael poked him head out from the kitchen, making a comical “oh” face upon seeing all the costumes. “Darling, come look at how wonderful these costumes are!”

Angie quickly joined with the babies in tow, oohing and aahing over all the outfits. “Let’s get a quick picture before you leave, shall we?” The babies crawled over to the teens as they struck a pose for the camera. Her best friends - well, besides Ponyhead, who had blown them off for a special edition of her show tonight - all together having fun on holidays? It was exactly the life she’d been wanting for herself for a while. Stump Day was the last time they’d done anything like that, and even then it was riddled with strife and tension, but it filled her with a genuine warmth to know this would be the norm now. Or maybe that was just the not-that-breathable costume. Tom let out a yelp when Mariposa tugged on his tail, clapping in glee at the response.

“Guess that’s our signal to go,” he said in a strained voice, scooping up Mariposa and handing her to Marco who had just put on his baby carrier before she could pull at the nose ring. Meteora, meanwhile, seemed content to nest in the leaves of her strawberry outfit. They all grabbed their bags and headed out the door.

The night started off fairly uneventful; they collected candy going door to door, and most of the Echo Creek residents were quite impressed by the costumes and especially by Tom’s pyrotechnics. They passed a few monster families wandering around - her favorite was a centipede-looking monster that had an elaborate assembly of dolls mounted onto her body to make it look like a bunch of humans in a conga line. Once they had stopped at every house in the immediate neighborhood, their bags were fairly full already, so they decided to take some time and go explore looking for decorations for a while before stuffing their bags to capacity too early. The group headed towards some of the more blended areas of the merged town (still colloquially referred to as Echo Creek by most of the population) to see how all the different groups were celebrating the spooky festivities. Star and Marco were walking hand-in-hand with the babies in their care, just taking in the sights and enjoying the company, while Tom and Janna were chatting beside Marco.

“Janna, I’m telling you, that isn’t a real thing!”

“C’mon now Tom, I have three different necronomicons that reference it.”

“Grandpa Relicor goes on for hours about curses at every single family dinner and he’s never mentioned anything that could turn a human inside out.”

“Maybe he’s keeping it for himself. Did you ever think of that?”

“I’m sorry that I don’t think about turning humans inside out all that often! Look, we can just head to his library sometime and- wait, hold on. Star, isn’t this where we got kidnapped that one time?”

Star snapped out of her daze and looked around; they were in the old monster village! Star had been so busy during the last stretch of her time on Mewni that she hadn’t even gotten to visit it once some of the monster families came back, and Buff Frog had come over to visit them a few times on Earthni but she hadn’t been sure exactly where his home was. She motioned for the group to follow her while she looked for the right hut… There! They walked up to the door and knocked.

“Go away! We do not want any!”

“Buff Frog, it’s me!”

The door flung open and Star was immediately swept up into a giant bear hug. “Star Butterfly, my little sweet potato! It has been so long! Come in, all of you. What brings you to my home, and why are dressed like weird red plant with many eyes?”

“It’s Halloween, we’re trick-or-treating!”

“What is this ‘Halloween’ of which you speak?”

This caught Star off-guard. It had been posted all over town and in the newspapers, hadn’t it? After all, there were plenty of monsters she’d seen celebrating tonight already.

“Um, well, it’s an Earth holiday where people put on costumes and walk around to other people’s houses, and those other people give them candy!”

“Ah, so that explains mysterious children at door all night. I hide in home. Many not seem happy when I am not giving them things. This also why tadpoles go with friends wearing peculiar clothing. I understand all now.”

“Out of curiosity, Buff Frog, why didn’t you know?”

“I am needing help to read fancy Earth papers, text too small for eyes. Children try to show me this ‘internal net’ of yours for video, but I do not like. They teenagers now, do not talk to old man about life,” he sighed mournfully. “Is OK. We begin Halloween now. Who want swamp grass? Is favorite treat, but I happily give to my good friends.”

“Thanks Buff Frog, but uh, I think we’re good,” Marco said, making a quick face of disgust.

“Whatwuzzat?” Tom mumbled through a mouthful of swamp grass while eagerly taking more from Buff Frog into his bag.

Another knock came to Buff Frog’s door. His face lit up in joy. “This must be trick-or-treat! I try your custom now.” He went over to the door and opened it, arms spread wide with a gigantic smile on his face. “Happy Halloween! I am so glad to have fresh-faced child at door and be part of holiday cheer. What your costume supposed to-”

“Ugh, whatever. You have any candy or what?” Star sharply turned her attention in that direction at the familiar voice.

“Jeremy?” Marco cried out, his voice cracking.

Star and Marco poked their heads around the side of Buff Frog at the familiar voice. Jeremy Birnbaum, in the shrill, diminutive flesh. Of the many people Star had met during her time on Earth, he was one of the few that she would’ve been perfectly fine with never seeing again, and she knew Marco hated him far more than she did. He was wearing a karate outfit with his name embroidered in multiple places on the fabric.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Marco Diaz. What are you doing out in a dump like this? Oh, wait, that makes perfect sense!” he cackled.

“Don’t listen to him, Buff Frog,” Marco shouted, still fixing his angry gaze on the child. “He’s just a sad, mean little turd.”

“Look, Marco, I get it. You did one big thing and had your 15 minutes of fame and you think you’re hot stuff. But all you really did was make this town even lamer and bring a bunch of weirdo losers here. Whatever, I’m out of here. By the way, those wing things on your head are wimpy, old man. Anyway, later, nerds.”

As he was walking away, he antagonized a few groups of monster teenagers that were wandering around. Star’s face felt like it was on fire. She started charging out the door to give the twerp a piece of her mind, but a large hand gripped her shoulders and held her back.

“Star… is not worth it.”

“Yeah,” Tom added, hands in his pockets. “For the record, I’ve seen a lot of demons with wings way wimpier than yours.” Buff Frog laughed sadly.

Star clenched her fists in and out, knowing they were right. After taking a deep breath, she plopped down onto the floor, resting her cheeks on her hands and sighing. Since the Cleaving, it seemed like everyone had been getting along so well, and problems had been out of sight for so long that she’d gotten complacent. Even after the subject came up earlier today, she really hadn’t believed that anything bad would happen. Had she just been delusional for assuming that things were really better? Could more of this happen? Would more of this happen? She’d done everything in her power, including giving up that very power, to fix the problems and prejudices she saw in society. On some level, she knew she shouldn’t be too bothered by this - it was just Jeremy, after all - but it was just sinking in how far away they still were from the world she wanted to see.

After another minute stewing in her negative emotions, two large hands hefted her back to her feet, and she found herself staring directly into big yellow eyes at a distance where she could see every individual wrinkle under them. “Star, is OK. Those like mean boy exist, but it not so bad. I am used to it. Is better than Mewni. No one try to shove us off cliff yet,” he laughed. “Besides, mean boy not wrong. This place is dump. Children not do chores. Teenagers. Now go, I am not needing you being sad. Get candy with friends and adorable babies,” he said sternly.

“OK. Well, tell Katrina and all the others that we said hi,” Star hesitantly spoke. He was right, she supposed, but something about it still wasn’t sitting right with her. Marco took her hand with the smile he always gave her when trying to ease her worries and the group headed for the door.

“Star, karate boy, take good care of each other. Friends and babies too. You are both like tadpole to me. All will work out, da.”

The group said their goodbyes and headed out. “You feeling alright?” Marco inquired after they’d made their way out of the monster village, .

“I- yeah, I’m fine. Just stinks to see something like that after a while of things being really good.”

He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I know a house that gives out homemade candy bars made from Sugar Seeds. Ferguson ate four of them one year and was sick for two weeks. Wanna go?”

Star was grateful for the change in subject, and turned to see his soothing chocolate gaze roving her face. He was always right at her side knowing how to lift her spirits, whether it be out of the deepest depths or from the mountaintops into the clouds. Maybe it was just best to push the issue out of her mind for n-

“I hate to interrupt the moment,” Tom stuck his head between them, forcing them to split apart to not get smacked by his horns, “but you might want to check this out.” He pointed a block in front of them to a group of kids frantically scrambling away from something with purpose, looking back over their shoulders every few seconds. Star and Marco locked eyes briefly once more and ran over towards them with the others just behind. Interestingly, Star noted, there were humans, Mewmans, and monsters alike in the group. The moment they drew near, one of the kids just pointed around a large building nearby without a word before continuing their mad dash.

Even Janna seemed interested now, raising an eyebrow along with the others before jogging towards the source of the commotion. They rounded the corner and were greeted with…

“Ludo’s castle?” Star and Marco said simultaneously. “Ludo’s here?”

“They’re still doing that thing?” Tom mouthed to Janna in the periphery of Star’s vision.

Now that she thought about it, there was a dim recollection of Ludo’s voice in her mind from the fateful day of the Cleaving, but her entire being had been so focused on the portal that it had barely registered at the time. How they hadn’t stumbled upon it in the past few months, though, was beyond her. OK, maybe it had something to do with them spending their first few dragon-cycle joyrides focused more on each other than what was below them, but in her defense, how was she supposed to focus on anything else with Marco in his adorkably handsome rough-and-tumble rider outfit? A non-heart-shaped spot of pink tinged her cheeks, and she shook off the thought by striding towards the castle, with Marco jerking forward as a result.

Janna’s eyes lit up at the eerie glow of the torches and the medieval trellises all along the walls. “Finally, my kind of Halloween.” She leaped forward to ring the doorbell.

Before anyone could react, a large net descended on them, capturing them and hoisting them up into the air. They all instinctively tried to break it, and found it impossibly strong. The door opened and they were hoisted into the and carried inside. Star tried to get her bearings but struggled to adjust her position given the bulky fruit costume. Eventually they were set back down in a large room. Star was finally able to crane her head enough to see the back of a large stone throne with two giant horns.

A shrill, familiar cackle erupted from the occupant of the throne. Suspicions confirmed, at least. “Hello, children. You have been trapped in my clutches! By the power invested in me on this Hallow’s Ween, I declare you… trick-and-treated!” Everyone remained still for a second, holding their breath to see what Ludo would do next. “Trick-and-treated!” he called out again. His voice dropped to a whisper, but Ludo was bad at whispering. “Dennis, that’s when you turn the chair!”

“Oh, right, sorry big brother!”

The stone throne swiveled around to reveal Ludo in the same clown costume Star remembered from the seance years ago. Spider and Bird, who Star now realized had been the ones to trap and carry them, emerged from the shadows to flank the sides of the throne. Right as the net dropped, Star felt her costume get pelted with something light. She picked up a small bag that had landed next to her face; it was labeled “Gold’N Crispz”.

“Ludo, what are you doing?” she finally called out.

“Wait, Star Butterfly? Is that really you? Help them up, help them up quickly now!” Spider, Bird, and a tall Kappa Star didn’t recognize helped Marco and Tom up first, who in turn assisted with Star and Janna. Ludo ran over and leaped up into a confused Marco’s arms, giving him a big hug and doing the same to Star a moment later. “I’ve missed you both so much!”

“We, um, missed you too, Ludo?” Marco unsurely stammered out.

“Oh, Marco, you’re alive! I thought you were actually a skeleton for a moment there!”

Star cleared her throat to get his attention once more. “So, uh, Ludo… we saw some kids running away screaming from here before.”

“Trick-and-treating hasn’t been going so well, they all call me ‘ugly hairy clown’ and flee. Ah well, more chips for me! But help yourselves, you two!”

“Uh, Star?” Tom spoke up. “Where’s Meteora?” Wait, what? She was gone? Star had felt her pulling on the leaves just a few minutes ago. She glanced over to Mariposa, who was still strapped into Marco’s carrier comfortably, seemingly unaffected by recent events. She groaned in frustration; the night had already had enough problems, why did this have to happen?

“There!” Marco shouted, pointing to the half-monster baby who had started crawling all along the gloomy walls of the castle. She rounded a corner out of sight.

“I got this,” Janna said. “This is my kind of place.” She jogged as fast as her costume would let her into the corridor Meteora disappeared into.

“I have zero clue who any of you are,” Tom added, pointing finger guns at Ludo and his friends, “but you guys seem like you have some catching up to do, so I’m just gonna go too.” He followed after Janna, tailed by the taller Kappa who Star presumed was Dennis who was breathlessly shouting warnings about various things in the castle.

“Well, your friends seem fun!” Ludo spouted out, bouncing on his feet. He led them into a room decorated like a lounge and jumped up onto one of the armchairs, motioning Star and Marco to do the same. “Come, sit! Would you care for another game of cha-rahds?” He gasped suddenly, pointing at Marco’s chest with a comically excited grin. “You two had a baby! That’s so nice! What’s her naaaaaame?”

Star and Marco’s faces both flushed. “She’s not ours, she’s my sister!”

“Potato, tomato,” he waved his hand at them dismissively. “I’m so happy for you both!”

“Anyyyyway,” Star drawled, eager to change the subject, “You rebuilt your castle, huh? It looks…” She spotted some sludge dripping down one of the walls nearby. “...nice!”

“Yes, it’s been quite an emotional journey this past year. I floated through space for a while - I think I hallucinated you with six arms at one point!” Star raised a finger and began to open her mouth, but Marco quickly grabbed pushed it back down. He probably had the right idea. “Then I lived a dreadful life with mother and father for a while, and then my wonderful little brother who I love so very much helped me see that I didn’t need them anymore by dunking a basketball, and we ended back up here! I guess that’s about it.”

“That’s… uh, glad to hear you’re doing well?” Star asked hesitantly. It was nice to see him not constantly attacking them or plotting to steal from them, but he was still an incredibly strange creature that Star could never quite get a read on. “How’s Earthni been treating you?”

“What’s an Earthni?” He blinked a few times, still innocently grinning.

“Earth and Mewni fused a few months ago,” Star dumbfoundedly responded.

“So that’s why the sky went all pretty and purpley, and why that milkshake stand I always went to right after I failed at getting your wand appeared right next to us. Speaking of which, how is that wand of yours?” He leaned forward in his seat expectantly.

“It’s, um, gone,” Marco said.

Ludo’s brow furrowed. “Well why don’t you go find it?”

“He means gone gone.” Star added. “We destroyed its source.”

“Whaaaaaaat? So no more magic at all? No more wand?” His beady pupils suddenly contracted to tiny dots in the center of his bulbous yellow eyeballs, voice dropping to a whisper. “...no more wand. No more wand. No more wand! I’m free, I’m- I’m free!” He stood up on the chair, jumping up and down and spinning around looking the happiest they’d ever seen him. “My brain, it doesn’t stop scheming and plotting for ways to steal the wand. It’s been lingering in the back of my mind for so long, but I don’t want it there. This is such a relief!”

Star felt a pang of sympathy for her ex-enemy. His mind was largely still an enigma, but he was struggling to put a past he wasn’t proud of behind him in his own way - something she was quite familiar with. She popped open a bag of chips and inspected them carefully, still a bit concerned about whatever food Ludo might deem worthy of giving out. Much to her surprise, they were actually just standard potato chips - fairly good ones, at that, and she was pretty hungry, having been too preoccupied to even dig in to her candy haul so far. Ludo remained in his happy reverie, babbling to himself while she munched and crunched down all the chips. Was that really all there were in it? Stupid packaging. She rustled the bag a bit, hearing it echo through the room. How could a bag be so loud? When the noise persisted, she realized it was actually footsteps. The three stood up and found Tom, Janna, and Dennis, all with scratches and scrapes and scuffs on their skin and clothing, panting heavily with Meteora fast asleep sucking her thumb in Tom’s arms.

“That baby is a nightmare!” Dennis squeaked out, his nasally voice only accentuated by his breathlessness. “She fought off Spider and Bird-”

“Yes, yes, we’ve all had a lovely evening, Dennis. But get this: the wand is gone! I’m free! Star, Marco, it’s been wonderful to see you again, we must catch up more some other time! Quickly, we must go tell Fudo and Tudo and Kudo and Zudo and Menudo and-”

Star, Marco, and the others had managed to make it the whole way off the castle property and out of earshot before Ludo was done with his list of names.

“Sooooo… what happened to-”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Janna tersely stated, as if the experience had made her a changed person. “Let’s just go take Meteora back home.” She took a step forward and winced

Tom snapped his fingers and a pillar of flame erupted in the street behind them, fading away seconds later to reveal his souped up Underworld carriage. “I can’t portal everywhere anymore but I can at least do that. Hop in.”

“What a gentleman,” Janna grumbled, tossing herself face-first onto the long plush seats within.

Star looked at the carriage, then looked up to Marco and knew they were on the same page as usual. They weren’t quite ready for Halloween to end yet. “We’ll make our own way back.”

“Suit yourself,” Tom shrugged, following Janna into the carriage before taking off for the night.

Marco’s hand found Star’s once more as they started to meander back in the general direction of home. “Well, that was an unexpected visit.”

“Yeah… glad to see Ludo’s doing well, though. It kinda gives me hope for Earthni, y’know?”

“Hmm?”

Star gazed up at the last vestiges of the sun in the sky. The sunsets on Earthni were becoming a constant positive in her life, always reminding her of the best the world had to offer. Of Marco, of peace, of the promise of a happy life ahead of them. “If Ludo, the guy who spent basically every waking second of his life for my entire first year here trying to steal my wand, can dig deep down and learn and grow from it… maybe we don’t just have to accept that some people are going to be mean idiots. It’s never gonna be perfect, but maybe there’s at least some hope that anyone can change.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Except Jeremy. He might be one of the hopeless ones,” she joked, jabbing an elbow into Marco’s side causing them both to giggle profusely. “Weeeeeell, we should probably get home soon. This little angel is on a one-way trip to Snoozeville.” She gave a feather-light boop to Mariposa’s nose.

“...should we still stop for those Sugar Seed bars?”

She sighed in contentment and leaned against his arm. “You know me too well, Diaz.”

[rxmvns-a]

↪ choi san. he/him. cis male. ╱ i thought i saw roman jeong getting questioned by the police. the twenty year old is in their third year at west bridge studying film. they were at manon’s party because he was supposed to be picking a friend up but couldn’t find them. do you think they had something to do with her death? + the scent of freshly brewed coffee, polaroids scattered on a bedroom wall, pushing people around in shopping carts at 2am. 

hi, friends! i’m dri (nineteen, she/her, pst), and being extremely tardy is just integral to who i am as a person, i guess ! i’ve been really busy with my team this week in particular, but i’m here now, hello ! so, anyway, here’s my boi roman — he’s a mess, but i’m excited to bring him to y’all ! if you’re interested in plotting connections, feel free to im me or hmu on d*scord pray for dri’s kneecaps#7258 (where i would be Way easier to reach) !

c://roman_jeong//quick_stats.txt

full name: roman jeong / jeong jinwoo (정진우)

nickname: rome

age: twenty

pronouns: he/him, cis male

orientation: bisexual

zodiac: scorpio

place of birth: san jose, california

c://roman_jeong//history.txt

born in san jose, california, roman lived with his parents and little sister clarissa until the age of eight, when his mom left them in pursuit of an old flame from high school that she apparently never got over. their dad tried to raise them for maybe… a few months… before realizing he had close to no parenting ability. rome and clarissa were sent to live with their rich aunt in wisconsin, and they’ve been there ever since.

listen… their aunt turned out to be a Helicopter Mom to them and it was… super suffocating, especially to roman. she expected so much out of them and tried to force her own dreams onto them but he was just Not Feeling It. he’d always hit her with the “ur not even my real mom” line. despite being a rather intelligent dude with a relatively quick wit, he put the bare minimum into school (especially around the halfway point in high school) … but still lowkey wanted to do well. he was the guy who always found a way to get test answers inconspicuously and found ways to work around the turnitin system, ya feel? tl;dr: smart and capable, but incredibly unmotivated

when he was fifteen, he found out (while eavesdropping on one of his aunt’s phone calls) that his dad had gotten remarried and had twins with his new wife, a girl and a boy. furious over the fact that this was kept a secret from him for two years, he went to rant about it to his sister, who told him that they should just keep pretending like they don’t know. roman suddenly couldn’t hear, and during dinner that night, he brought it up and it was an angsty time.

after this revelation, he began Acting Out more because he hated the idea that their dad just sent them away almost like it was nothing but ended up raising an entirely new family of his own afterward. it started to feel like it was him and his sister against the world, and even to this day he would do anything for her. he got into fights a lot in high school because he gets defensive and doesn’t know when to Stop. his temper is… so short…

he took a photography class his junior year high school and just… really enjoyed it?? it was practically the only class he actually wanted to Try in. his teacher noticed this, and they ended up being pretty close. when rome wasn’t out messing around, he spent a lot of time hanging in the classroom and talking about life and photography. probably the One adult he respected, but his teacher ended up moving to new york shortly after he graduated high school. it felt like he was being abandoned once again (yikes!!!) even tho he knew it had nothing to do with him.

but yeah, for the past few years, roman has just been studying film (his aunt thinks he’s there for engineering but he did a switchy switch... haha keep it a secret!), doing freelance photography on the side, and fuckin’ shit up ! his sister is currently going to school in california, and her decision to attend berkeley lowkey rubbed him the wrong way since it’s relatively close to where their dad lives and he doesn’t want thim to reach out to clarissa or anything because he’s supposed to be dead to them.

c://roman_jeong//personality.txt

people think roman comes off as intimidating, but they’re not entirely wrong. he takes a while to warm up to people, and even then, he doesn’t have a lot of actual friends.

he doesn’t express it often, but he would literally do anything for his sister and close friends. can be incredibly protective. no kidding, his sister has complained that people didn’t want to date her because they were afraid of him KJDHGDSG

you know that friend who is able to find a persons facebook page and essentially everything about them with very, very minimal information given? yeah, that’s roman. he :// lowkey keeps up with his dad through facebook bc all of his wife’s posts are public :// he looks at posts of their family and just Suffers… it’s so bad!!!

he is the type of person that won’t share his own food but eats other people’s.

listen… you didn’t hear it from me… but he’s really just a softie… he’s just scared

doesn’t know what it’s like not to hold a grudge

acts on impulse and emotion often

c://roman_jeong//fun_facts.txt

can and will argue about the superiority of ice cream over frozen yogurt

has an emotional connection to cats and will stop to pet one; also has a cat and he loves her with his entire being

is sustained by coffee and sarcasm; drinks his coffee black

romcoms are his guilty pleasure tho they lowkey make him feel a sort of longing

his bedroom wall is covered in polaroids, which are of his friends, scenery, and neighborhood stray cats! but mostly his friends. he loves taking pictures of his friends :/ he also loves the idea of polaroids capturing a singular moment unlike how digital cameras can be used to get the Perfect Shot after like… 30 tries

has that one second every day app

mildly allergic to bananas but didn’t realize it until he asked a friend if they liked the tingly feeling they get when they eat bananas

pushing people around in shopping carts at 2am/being pushed is one of his favorite pastimes

“u can’t wear thrasher unless u can deepthroat an entire skateboard” is his instagram bio and he thinks thrasher elitists can choke. bought all of his friends black thrasher hoodies for christmas in an act of spite.

going off of that, he started saying “sk8 or die” ironically but now he can’t stop

will look you in the eyes when he holds a conversation; this is sometimes terrifying bc it rly looks like he’s staring into your SOUL but tbh he just be like that

can solve rubix cubes very fast!! when he was 13 he once spent an entire night studying rubix cube algorithms online bc he didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t solve one

walks fast DGJHGS like slow down speed racer where r u goin

c://roman_jeong//that_night.txt

rome didn’t even want to Be at the party, let alone get entangled in the Big Mess

he showed up around 15 minutes before they found manon’s body, only in the area to pick up niko after receiving a phone call

he went inside to seek him out, but little did he know what would take place 5 minutes later.

he finds it kinda unfair (and shitty karma) that he was brought into everything... but then again, a girl Died, so he doesn’t really have the right to complain.

[coffeedrivenfiction]

I’ve Always Wanted To Do That (The Incredibles fanfic)

He wasn't actually sleeping, more like lounging. Lounging on the living room couch on a lazy Saturday with a magazine resting on his face and virtually nothing to do. His homework was finished, the chores were done, and the house was vacant. Since turning eighteen, Violet had taken to enjoying the slight slack in the leash that pertained to dating that kid Tony, who she was miraculously on her third year with; Jack-Jack was at Aunt Edna's, being treated like the surrogate son he so obviously was to her and no doubt being forced into a bevy of different costumes suited for his powers; and Mr. Incredible, free to be himself to a certain degree, was out with Frozone.

Being a teenager was really no different than being a kid. So he was fourteen now. Big whoop. Literally nothing had changed besides the length of his flyaway hair, his school, and the suffocating amount of homework he was given every day. He and the rest of his family were still under witness protection while the government dragged feet in weighing the exact worth of Supers against a cost analysis following the destruction they were sure to cause 'saving the day'. The fall of Supers in no way meant the fall of villains—an occurrence that should have been painfully obvious from the onset—and so certain ones were being allowed back into the line of duty to combat the increasing wave of unrest.

Slowly but surely, Supers were being accepted again.

Winston Deavor was still a prominent figure in the integration of Supers, from back when his sister went rogue to this very day, and the betrayal at the hands of his own flesh and blood had only spurred him on further. The process was plodding as hell to be sure but not without its benefits. His mom, Elastigirl, was still the face of the program, and she was making extraordinary strides toward proving that 'saving the day' could be done with as little collateral damage as possible thanks to her elegance and natural battle tact, and it didn't hurt that she had a massive fanbase backing her.

Back in the day, Elastigirl was already considered a household name, but now? Four years later? She was virtually infamous. Everyone knew her, people all over the world loved her, countries wanted her to make guest appearances, there were parades and parties, endorsement deals and sponsorships, she had apparel everywhere knickknacks were sold—there was even an Elastigirl videogame called Elastigirl: A Stretch In Time. To this day, Dash still found that to be the most stupidest name attached to the most stupidest gaming premise ever. Why they chose to make his mom this time-hopping superhero, he would never know.

Still, beyond all of that, beyond the numerous press releases and public events and award ceremonies, not a single soul outside of her family, Mr. Dicker, and Winston knew Elastigirl's true identity, which was a testament to the statute of secrecy concerning not only her but some of the other high profile Supers in the field. Mostly because trying to figure out Elastigirl's true identity had reached astronomical levels of interest, to the point where people adamantly theorized on who it might be based on hair length, eye color and other characteristics. Not that his mom cared—she found the whole fascination over her ridiculous—she only cared about creating a better, villain-free world for her family. She didn't care to relieve the 'glory' days that she consistently tried to talk his dad into letting go. Her only priorities pertained to being a devoted wife and raising her children; Super'ing around the world was just an unwanted side-effect to accomplish that.

On the other glove, Mr. Incredible was over the moon with the steady integration of Supers and gladly took on whatever jobs his wife didn't want to, even the ones that led him to other continents. Occasionally, after some extreme begging and pleading, Helen would relent to letting either Dash or his sister join in, depending on the severity of what needed to be done; sometimes they even went as a family. Those journeys turned out to be the perfect bonding adhesive, the stories told between them, the laughs shared, the dangers crossed….

It was fun, being able to just be themselves every once in awhile. Being bottled up as an ordinary citizen was no longer such an arduous task thanks to frequent outings that let everyone stretch their wings.

And that meant the most annoying aspect of Dash—always whining about not being able to be free, to be himself—melted away, leaving behind a far more levelheaded speedster.

"Ohhhh, Daaaaash…."

The sweet songbird-like tones of his mother calling tickled Dash's ears and he felt his cheeks begin to burn.

Damn it….

It was no secret that Dash loved his mom. Leaving the shoes of a kid behind and stepping into those of a globetrotting teenage Super had given him a new appreciation for this auburn-haired woman who had taken care of and loved him even during his most unbearable moments. Whenever his dad stepped out to handle Super business tailored to him (that Winston figured wouldn't yield too much cost damage-wise), Dash would self-proclaim himself as man of the house, and he took that role to heart.

His mom, Violet, Jack-Jack—even if they were all accomplished Supers in their own right, save for his little prodigy of a brother who everyone already expected to herald the end of villainy when he grew up, Dash placed their well-being over whatever trouble the world at large happened to be suffering through. Not that any of them took him seriously: Violet nearly pissed herself from laughing, his dad gave him the most patronizing pep talk about responsibility and knowing ones role, and his mom… well… she'd called it the cutest thing he had ever done, bar none.

"Awww, look at you, momma's little hero," she had said back then, eskimo kissing him into a void of embarrassment. "Well then, I'll be counting on you to keep me safe, okay?"

That much went without saying. It was a pledge Dash carried with him as he grew, year by year, remaining ever vigilant. So there was no denying that puberty was a bitch—all the growing, the danglings, the new bells and whistles—especially when surrounded by others going through the same awkward motions and having to deal with the unending comments his schoolmates made concerning his mom whenever she came to pick him up and actually got out of the car. Not only did his mom have the entire male populous unknowingly under her finger, there were quite a few girls who were quite keen to get to know her as well, even going so far as to try and invite themselves to his house under the pretense of dating or needing a study-buddy.

Contrary to popular belief, Dash was well aware of just how unrelentingly sexy his mother was; he had to deal with it every blessed day he saw her walk around in pajamas, in shorts, even in a bathrobe. He knew that for a woman in her very early forties, her coke-bottle figure was nothing short of perfection. He knew that if he looked up the term 'slim thick' he would see a picture of his mom due to the way her pinched waist opened into a pair of succulent hips that she loved to playfully bump him with. He knew all of that and more, and eventually, he grew sick of others using his mom in their weird fetishes.

It only took about three major fights for the message to get across that Helen Parr was off limits for anyone to so much as speak about in his presence. Since his super speed basically guaranteed that he could doge every hit, in order to keep his identity a secret, Dash allowed himself to be struck a couple times just for the sake of appearance.

"Dash, are you in the living room?"

When she called out a second time, Dash lazily replied, "I sure am, mom," but didn't bother removing the magazine from over his face. He still wasn't ready to 'do things' yet; it was too nice, the warm, natural lighting streaming in through the glass roof. He was more than content to spend the rest of his weekend right here glued to this spot. If the other family members didn't mistake him for just an oblong shaped couch cushion he would be highly surprised.

Though not nearly as surprised as he was when something incredibly soft and plush nudged the arm he had hanging over the side.

Did she just…?

"Wakie, wakie, my little super hero, I need your opinion on something," she chorused, and if her previous hip bump wasn't enough to bring about a barrage of suspicion, her suspiciously energetic tone certainly was. When he made no immediate effort to give her attention, she hip-bumped him again. "Come on, Dash, I need your help here."

Wondering when and how he had fallen under his mother's thumb as well, Dash very hesitantly began to lower his Super's Monthly magazine just far enough for his pupils to peek over the edge.

Oh dear Lord….

Another thing about his lavish mother that Dash was having some trouble dealing with was the fact Mrs. Parr didn't put much stock in her figure—none—she mostly considered herself to be quite average despite the numerous compliments and fansites devoted to her, despite the vocal minority that downright worshipped the very ground she walked on. It was the most innocent display of immodesty that Dash had ever seen; she cared so little that she frequently, obliviously, showed it off in the most provocative ways.

Like now, as she nervously shifted weight from one foot to the other in this lavish white blouse with a plunging neckline and the tightest pair of yoga pants Dash had ever the pleasure to see wrapped around her body. That apprehensive stance clearly showed the effort she was putting forth to be eye-catching was new to her, but her naturally lustful figure seemed right at home being on display; it was this perfectly tantalizing mixture of timid and precocious. His eyes were tracing her curves before he could even begin to stop himself, rolling over those criminally wide hips, those thick, creamy thighs, and that ass….It was only thanks to her that Dash even paid attention to that part of a female nowadays.

Not even trying to being subtle, Dash sank deeper into the couch, making sure to keep the magazine firmly just below his eyes. There was no way he could let her see his face; he was blushing far too hard, it practically invited teasing.

She cleared her throat. "Well, since you're the man of the house while your father's away, I wanted to get a man's opinion on these," and she gave the most beguiling smile, that kind that effortlessly coerced Dash into doing whatever she wanted.

"I—me?" he blustered. "Really? D-don't you think Violet would be a better choice—"

The ease at which she cut him off was as simple as lifting a single finger, her smile growing coy. "That's why I said I needed a man's opinion, buster. C'mon, your honest take—does your momma look good in these?"

A hearty "yes!" was the obvious answer but Dash was summarily left with his jaw hanging when Helen twirled on her heel to give him a full, uninterrupted view of the back. Never had he seen her rear so perfectly rounded, so magnificently framed—it jiggled ever so softly as she continued to shift from foot to foot, almost as if she could physically feel his eyes probing here, prodding there, taking it all in. Every wobble of those perfectly rounded twin cheeks caused Dash's breath to hitch, his grip over the magazine subconsciously increasing to the ripping point. The outlines of whatever dark pink panties she had chosen to wear underneath were excruciatingly visible, hugging her ass tight and admirably keeping both cheeks contained.

"Well?" she questioned, twirling back around. "Thoughts? I'm really feeling the blouse—my chest can breathe, but personally, I'm not a huge fan of lycra. Good fabric and all it's just kind of tight around the, uh… around the back region, don't you think?"

Thinking wasn't really a function that Dash was capable of at the moment so he remained silent, and his lack of an answer caused Helen to glance down at herself, curious to see what had so thoroughly captured his attention.

Then her eyes widened, followed by a very short chuckle. "Annnnnd, dang… did not realize they were see-through…."

Of course she hadn't, and Dash could wholeheartedly believe it, given how her cheeks lit up like a Christmas tree and she brought her hands to her face, probably wishing she had Violet's power to vanish at a snap. Honestly, it was the cutest thing, watching her shrink in on herself, the way she tried squeezing her thighs together like that was in any way going to hide the fact that her very visible panties had a bear face print on the front.

"Mom…pft, what in the—"

"Shut up, just… shut up," she ground out, peeking at him from between her fingers and, wow, was the blush riding high. "Dash, I swear, if you even so much as breathe a word about this…."

It came out as threatening, albeit the embarrassed quivering marred the effect somewhat, and Dash was quite keen to hear her finish that sentence, to hear what she would do to him, but when she fell silent, he couldn't help but grin, fully lowering his magazine and running a hand through his hair.

God above, if the world loved Elastigirl then knowing the woman behind the mask would likely cause heart-attacks all around. Whatever arousal her figure had shamefully brought out of Dash, much like it always did, was bowled over with an all-consuming urge to protect. He needed to protect this 40-something-year-old woman who apparently still wore printed panties.

"I really hope you don't wear those when you're out as Elastigirl," he chuckled, patting the spot next to him invitingly. "Imagine bending over and splitting a seam—bam, secret's out."

The glare Helen leveled him with as she approached didn't sting as much as it could have thanks to her smirk. "Excuse me, Mr. Man, but you aren't insinuating I have a big butt, are you?"

Dash's reply was as quick as his running speed. "I was insinuating that accidents like ripped clothing and Supers go together like white on rice. How many times has Auntie E had to repair dad's suit? A dozen? Couple dozen? Pictures of his underwear are still circulating the internet, God knows why."

She sat down next to him with a scoff, crossing her legs. "I'm impressed, Dash, you said that so smoothly I'd almost believe you thought it up on the spot."

"Well, when you're a pro at sticking your foot in your mouth like I am you learn to have certain replies loaded up," Dash admitted with a shrug, and the sound of her giggling was still just the sweetest thing.

"And he's funny, folks," Helen quipped, idly kicking her aloft foot and brushing back her bangs. She regarded her son like a newly found specimen, staring him up and down appraisingly, moving his hair about, then finally gave his cheek a teasing pinch. "Ah, you make me sick."

The insult was said so lovingly that all Dash could do was chuckle.

"Sorry?"

"You should be. I still can't believe you don't have a girlfriend yet, I figured I'd be beating off girls left and right by now, honestly. It's one of the few things I was actually looking forward to as you grew up."

"Er, well… you know how it is," he said, clearing his throat.

There was a very good reason why Dash didn't have a girlfriend, but it wasn't a reason he was mentally prepared to share with his mother just yet. Diligence required sacrifice, and the rise of villains as of late was beginning to eclipse the speed at which Supers were being allowed to do their job. Elastigirl might be a verifiable symbol of peace for now, but she was still only one Super and the world was rife with nefarious individuals who were beginning to see that she couldn't be everywhere at once.

"You get your looks from your father, you know—the both of you are just riddled with handsomeness. That's how you trick us girls, get us to lower our defenses; you just flash a smile and we go all weak in the knees. It's not fair," she joked, winking. "I swear, to this day I'm almost certain that's the only way your father got me to marry him. The big idiot… the big handsome idiot…."

Chewing on his thumbnail, Dash barely heard a word his mother said; he was beyond lost in thought, his brow furrowed intently. The growing villain contingency had long since filled him with unease and it seemed to worsen every time he turned on the set, which was primarily why he had chosen to read his magazine today. Just once he wanted to go a day without the same question running laps around his mind: how long until her identity was blown? He had seen more than his fair share of movies and shows, mostly as research material, to know how that particular scenario played out and he would be damned if he let some random girl, who was almost guaranteed to be more interested in his mom anyway, distract him from protecting his family.

"It's… I guess it's just not my time yet," he said after a few seconds' silence, rubbing behind his head. "Truthfully, I'm not in any hurry to see you hospitalize whichever girl I bring home."

"Oh come on, sweetheart, look at me—would I do that?" she asked with a faux look of hurt.

Dash stared at her and she stared back.

And then they both started laughing.

"You'd slingshot her across the city!" he said, clutching his sides.

"Without a moment's hesitation," Helen agreed, patting her lap with an inviting glance at her son. When he merely stared at her, confused, she rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth, grabbing his head and bringing it down onto her legs. "There we go."

Even before the cushiony soft sensation of her thighs could fully hit home, Dash was bombarded with the sweet, almost ambrosial scent wafting from his mother's skin. He didn't know if it was some sort of perfume or if that's just how she smelled naturally but it was having an immediate effect where he didn't want it to.

"Um, m-mom? What're you—" he started, trying to push himself back up, but she shushed him, running a hand through his hair.

"Sweetie, I know you don't feel like talking about what you're going through, but… I wouldn't be much of a mother if I didn't say something," she started softly and Dash froze, eyes widening, growing numb to the soothing dance of her fingers.

There was no way she could be hinting at… could she? No, of course not, how could she know? Outside of the usual mood swings, Dash had made sure to be as discreet as possible with his mission in life. He left no stone unturned, erased any tracks he made—there was nothing for anyone to catch, much less his mom.

"If you're talking about that pair of panties, I can explain," he started hastily.

"I really don't think any son can explain how a pair of their mother's underwear wound up under their mattress," Helen began inertly, and it was the evenness of her tone that caused Dash's jaw to tighten. She didn't sound at all like how he'd figured—hoped—she would have, she didn't sound upset or confused or disgusted; she sounded like someone who had seen through his plan, and easily at that. "I've been in the game a long time, Dash, so I know a decoy when I see it. If your plan was to throw me off, you should have grabbed a dirty pair—that's what the true perverts do. After all, what good are panties with no scent?"

Okay, wow.

So many questions slammed into Dash's mind following that statement that it almost hurt trying to decipher them all and so he remained silent, barely breathing, taking in only the faintest whiffs of her natural aroma.

"I know you've probably got a dozen other distractions lined up to keep suspicion low but I'm your mother, Dash," she said matter-of-factly and he could feel those maternal, all-seeing eyes boring into him. "The least I can do is tell when one of my kids is pushing themselves too far, and you, kiddo… you've been pushing yourself too hard for too long."

It flew out of Dash's mouth before he could stop it: "We're safe, though, aren't we? You, dad, Violet, Jack-Jack… we're all safe."

"Yes, honey, we're safe, but it's not like we've got danger lurking around every corner either," Helen argued gently. "You're only fourteen, you should be out there enjoying yourself, living life, making mistakes and crying back to me for help—look at your sister," she said with a snort. "The moment she was old enough to drive you'd think the car was her natural home."

"Vi's not all there in the head, we all know that," Dash said, making a swirling motion with his finger. "I'm different from her—I have goals, I have people I need to protect—"

Helen nodded understandingly. "And don't think we don't appreciate it, honey. All I'm asking you to do is to just… let us adults shoulder most of the burden, okay? It's why I took up this whole Super deal in the first place, to give you and Violet and Jack-Jack a better life than what your dad and I had, a more carefree life."

When she took him by the chin, Dash allowed her to steer his gaze upwards so that he was staring directly at her, so that he could fully see the concern in her eyes.

"Let me be the parent, okay? I don't care about the love of all those people out there, or the Superhero initiative, I don't care if this whole operation goes or blows, I really don't," she said genially and Dash found it astonishing how true her words came across to him. "Like I told Winston, like I told your dad… and like I'm about to tell you now: I only care about keeping my kids safe. So let me do that, okay? Let your mother do her job. Your only job is to be a kid for as long as possible."

The firm pout Dash had fixed across his face broke away into a groan when she kissed him over the nose.

"Don't pout, I find it adorable," she said.

"Awww, mom—c'mon," he fussed, rubbing at his face. "I'm fourteen, what teenager still gets kissed on the nose?"

"You do," she said easily, and gave him another, smiling at the way he turned deeper into her thighs to hide his face. "And so does your sister. She gets at least two a day. And Jack-Jack? Until he shifts into another dimension. Resistance is futile, you know, you all might as well just give in to the momma kisses—they always win."

"Maybe I've been protecting us from the wrong side since you're clearly the most villainous thing around here," was what Dash tried to say but it came out a muffled mess against his mother's thighs, and he caught the way she shuddered against him, no doubt feeling the rumbling vibrations his stifled words caused.

When his mother's hand came down over his head, he tensed, half-expecting her to give him a good thumping. What he didn't expect was for her fingers to wind their way back through his blonde locks again. "Any time you want to get your face outta there would be fine with me, buster," and her tone was full of a teasing mirth even as she playfully squeezed her legs together, "before I start thinking you stole my underwear for another purpose."

Dash sat up so quickly he nearly went tumbling off the couch and Helen laughed, watching him scramble to catch himself. "Calm down, calm down, Dash, sheesh—I was just kidding," she chuckled, waving a dismissive hand his way, "but now that your secret's out, feel free to put them back, those are one of my favorite pairs."

Pushing that little tidbit to the farthest reaches of his mind, Dash's perked up like a dog sensing danger when the doorbell rang. When he made to move, the palm that met him squarely on the forehead kept him seated. "Relax, it's just the door," said Helen, standing in his place. "I got it. Here, you take care of this." She picked up the remote, picked up his hand, and joined the two. "Find something fun for us to watch on TV when I get back. I'm gonna start making sure you enjoy yourself, buster."

The idea of enjoying himself did sound like something pleasant, if wholly foreign, Dash figured as she strolled from the room, unknowingly taking his gaze with her, but he also knew it was something he would never allow. Despite what his mother said and the way her calming words offered a much-needed sense of tranquility to his frayed nerves, this was the path he had long since chosen. There was no alternative so long as the villain contingency continued to thrive on the lack of Supers.

Still… watching something together….

"That… that'd be okay, right? Yeah, course—but just for a little while," Dash told himself firmly, and he nearly leapt out of his clothes when the phone rang. "Not cool, Dash, c'mon…." Grumbling, he dove to the other end of the couch and snatched up the cordless. "Parr residence, Dash spea—"

"DASH—Dash, listen, it's Dicker—" Instantly, Dash's breathing faltered, his stomach clenching with dread. Mr. Dicker hadn't contacted them for quite some time, and whenever he did it was never anything good. "Listen to me, son, you have to leave your house—right now!"

"What? Why?" There was a panic in Mr. Dicker's voice and it transferred to Dash, setting his heartbeat into overdrive. "What's going on—did something happen?"

"There's no time!" the older man yelled and for the first time in a long time, Dash was afraid. "Evelyn Deavor escaped prison during a riot and we think she's making a beeline straight to your position—we don't know exactly when she escaped but it's highly possible she's not alone—she could be bringing accomplices, Dash—you have to get out of there!"

The phone clattered to the ground, everything was suddenly very dreamlike.

No….

It was the slowest Dash could remember ever going even as he pushed his legs past the normal limits of his ability. He didn't know how… he didn't know what could have possibly pierced him with this overwhelming feeling of loss, but he could feel his eyes beginning to blur with tears, he felt his mouth opening in a scream that didn't reach his ears he was running so fast.

No, no, no, no—

The force of his halting skid left blazing scorch marks in the carpet and he rounded the corner just as Helen pulled the door open.

"Mom—WAIT!"

Two hooded figures stood in the frame, silent and still—and Dash was in motion before his brain could give a command. It seemed the larger of the two figures was waiting for precisely that and flung out a hand comprised oddly of stone. The floor underneath Dash liquefied itself and he gave a surprised yelp when he began to sink, first his feet, past his ankles, up to his knees; it wasn't until the one with the hand of stone snapped their fingers that the floor solidified again, causing Dash to pitch forward and bash his forehead against the tiles, cracking several.

No, no, no, no, not now—

Everything was happening so wretchedly slow it was like a switch had been flipped. Breathing was problematic, Dash's head was throbbing unmercifully, each pulse sending a trickle of warm blood splurging down his face, but the pain was lost on him as he struggled, desperately reaching out for his mother.

"MOOOOM!"

The second figure pulled off their hood and it was over before the yell could fully leave Dash's throat.

Looking every bit as unhinged as she had four years ago, Evelyn Deavor struck out a hand, gripped Helen by the back of her head and snatched her forward, roughly mashing their lips together. It was a terrible kiss and the shock that contorted Helen's face only intensified when Evelyn rammed something sharp into her stomach.

It was a new type of terror, one that Dash never thought he would experience, one that robbed him of everything as he watched Evelyn drive that blade deeper and deeper still into his mom, holding their kiss until it was buried to the hilt. And when Evelyn broke their embrace, her mouth was smeared with blood; it was dribbling without end over Helen's lip, the sounds of her strangled gurgling causing the bile to churn hot in Dash's stomach.

"I've always wanted to do that," Evelyn cooed with a sickening tenderness, continuing to grip the wobbling Super tight by the hair. She inched closer, placing those filthy bloodstained lips next to Helen's ear. "Tell me, Elastigirl… what do you do when you want to destroy the very fabric of the people's nerve?" she whispered gently.

His legs were broken, Dash knew that much, he could feel that much, but that didn't stop him from struggling; he clawed at the ground like a trapped animal, gaining purchase over nothing, fingers slipping, tearing his throat to shreds with the strength of his yells.

Yet Evelyn's deadening voice conquered all. "The answer's simple: you take away their symbol of hope."

And Dash was rendered mute when she forcibly snatched the knife from his mother's stomach, spilling a copious amount of blood down her front, over the floor, splattering droplets in an arch that flew from Evelyn's blade.

It was relatively easy to pinpoint the exact moment Dash felt his heart die. He had stopped breathing, stopped thinking, stopped feeling—eyes unblinking, he could only see, could only watch as the woman he had sworn to protect fell… and fell… the shock never quite leaving her face….

When she collided with the ground, it was the most painful scene of Dash's life, watching as his mom brought hands to her wound, hands that shook, hands that were instantly saturated in blood, hands that were, even now, determined to shield Dash from what he knew was there. She didn't want him to see it, she didn't want him to see the wound causing the unbridled agony distorting her face.

"Don't worry, Dash," said Evelyn softly, bending down to wipe her knife over the front of Helene's blouse, further staining what was once such a beautiful and pristine white, turning it into a scarlet mess, "when your mom dies, and when they find her… she'll be regarded as a true hero. You should be proud."

His mom was gasping horribly, struggling to hold on even as blood continued to spill through her fingers; she paid no mind to Evelyn, that wasn't important… her eyes found his, they found her son's, and she didn't look away. "D-Dash…."

Like a baseball through a window, Dash felt all of his willpower, all of the strength and resilience he had built up over the years, shatter into nothing. Hearing his name gurgled out with so much pain from the one person he thought would never fall had instilled something terrible in his heart—and he started crying, he started crying like he had regressed back to his toddler years, the days when his mom would drop whatever she was doing and come running to him.

Except now she couldn't, and the hollow realization of that caused her face to scrunch up, caused tears to well in her eyes….

Sighing, Evelyn made the climb back to her feet, the look lining the sunken groves of her face displaying just a flicker of regret. "I… don't think I thought this through well enough," she admitted with a tired shrug. "This sort of thing might just galvanize the people instead of break them apart." The revelation of her actions didn't seem to be cause for worry, on the contrary, it was like watching withered parchment paper crinkle when her lips curled into a sinister smirk. "If anything, I probably just accomplished in three minutes what every Super has been trying to do for the past four years. I should be thanked, right?" She snapped her fingers at her larger companion. "Let's go. We've sparked the flame… now it's time to watch it all burn down."

Wiping his eyes on the back on the back of his hand, Dash watched them go, he watched them stroll uncaringly through the puddle of blood pooling out from his mom….

"Dash…." His eyes shot to her the moment she inhaled, the very act of talking causing her mouth to form a painful rictus. "Sw-sweetheart, I… I'm s-sorry…."

No matter how hard he swiped at his eyes, the tears wouldn't leave him be, they constantly blurred his vision, blurred his mother. "Mom, don't talk—please, just… h-hang on, I just gotta get my legs free and then—then I can get help, I swear, if I can just…."

His voice shook so bad he could hardly understand the words tumbling out of his mouth as he tried to move his legs, but he already knew he was hopelessly stuck; the floor had reformed around his knees, it'd take a construction crew to get him out and he'd be lucky if his legs survived.

Not that cold reality prevented him from struggling his absolute hardest.

"C'MON! Stupid—please, please, why won't… I can't get… m-mom," he fumbled, turning to her for guidance, and it scared him at how quickly the light was fading from her eyes. "Mom! No, no, no—damn it, c'mon! Don't leave me! I'm coming, if I can just—it's my legs—I can't get them… I can't get them free, I'm trying!"

Her smile was so soft, and so weak. She understood, she knew he was trying his very best, and that was enough. "I'm s-sorry, Dash, I…" She winced, inhaling sharply. Every word lanced her body with pain; every syllable only caused more blood to pulse over her bottom lip. "I…I tried… I wanted you t-to… to be happy…."

"Don't talk, please!" Dash begged, and he reached out for her, stretching his arm as far it could go.

The last time Helen had cried, in front of him at least, was a couple years ago after Jack-Jack had bumped his head on the coffee table and cut himself. That one moment had been the deciding factor to Dash committing himself to the protection of his family. The look on his mother's face, those heart-wrenching sobs as she cradled Jack-Jack and apologized over and over… he swore to never see her like that again.

"I… I couldn't do my job as… as your mother," she whispered to him, and the tears glittering down her cheeks, the regret that poisoned her smile… "I'm sorry, sweetie…."

The ground around Dash's legs gave an ominous crack, almost as loud as the one that he felt reverberate somewhere in his shins. He was pulling with all the might he possessed, grasping out for all he was worth, but it still wasn't enough to reach her. "HELP!" he screamed shrilly, blistering his throat. "SOMEBODY—ANYBODY HELP! PLEASE!"

When something soft grazed his cheek, he jerked, momentarily stunned into silence; his mother had stretched out one of her hands, past his own, and was busy brushing away a tear. He instantly nuzzled into her, ignoring the crimson fluids that caked her fingers, unable to keep his sobs at bay long enough to shout again. "D-don't leave me, momma… p-please…."

"It's okay… it's okay, sweetheart," she told him, her voice growing weaker, fainter, "I'm f-fine… I'm not… I'm not going anywhere, I'm st-staying right…."

He heard her exhale, then nothing.

"…Momma?"

The sudden silence pried Dash's eyes open and he saw his mother staring back at him. Except… she wasn't blinking; her fingers had fallen still, she wasn't moving, she wasn't… she wasn't breathing. She stared back at him with eyes that had lost their light, with a smile that was barren.

"N-no…"

The world seemed to drop away into nothingness leaving only Dash and the woman who had shielded him since birth. He didn't want to believe, he didn't want to accept the fact that his mother was gone, but it was her expression… that loving smile… she was telling him that it was okay, that everything was going to be okay, even if she wasn't around for it.

And that made him cry. He buried his face in the warmth of her palm and cried, grabbing her fingers with both hands. The grief hurt, it burned from the bottom of his soul, it gave fire to his sobs until he had no more tears to give, until his throat was too hoarse to make a sound, until all he could do was collapse, worn with pain and broken with sorrow.

He didn't know how much time had passed when he heard it… voices… a multitude of voices on the peripheral of his hearing. They were coupled with the sounds of rushing footsteps—Dash didn't know what was happening and he didn't put forth the slightest bit of effort in figuring it out; so long as he kept hold over his mother's hand then nothing else mattered. Perhaps Evelyn has seen the folly in letting him live and had returned with more flunkies to finish him off?

Please. I'd be grateful for it….

The voices were coming in clearer as Dash's hearing gradually returned.

"KEEP THOSE PEOPLE BACK! I need a perimeter shut down—RIGHT NOW!"

"Dash! Dash, wake up! Is he okay? DASH!"

"Please, stay back—he's alive, he's breathing—"

"HELEN—is she… she can't be…."

"WE NEED A FUCKING AMBULANCE!"

"Clear a path, clear a path, what's happened? What's the… oh my God…."

Who was talking? Better question, why were they talking? Nothing said could undo what had happened, nothing could—

Every nerve in Dash's body sparked to life when someone tried to pry his hand away from his mother's and a piercing yell burst from his throat. He swung without thought and felt his knuckles collide solidly with someone's jaw, knocking whoever it was to the side. Tears blurred his vision, he couldn't make out a single person from the swarm surrounding him; they were moving too fast, nothing but hazy, faceless mannequins; all he could do was growl, increasing the hold he had on her, daring a soul brave enough to step forward. They would have his life before they took—

"Dash…."

He froze. That last voice sent a familiar shudder down his back and he turned in its direction, frantically reaching out with his other hand. A wave of sobs erupted around him but Dash paid it no mind, continuing to reach, gasping when a larger, rougher hand took his own and held on tight. "Dash, it's okay. We're here… you can let go, son, we're… we're here…."

Dash sniffled, fervently shaking his head. "I… but if I do, she'll… th-then she'll really be gone," he choked out and there was a massive shift as several people moved to hug him at once. He felt it, he felt their warmth, their pain, he felt it all and hung his head, shoulders trembling with the urge to cry again. "I can't… I c-can't lose her again, I—"

Another cheek, slick with tears, mashed itself against his and the hug tightened. "You won't, Dash," he heard Violet gasp and she sounded stricken. Her entire body shook but she clutched him like a life raft. "Sh-she's still here—I s-swear she is." She nodded as strongly against him as she could, her jaw firming. "It's okay, it's g-gonna be okay…."

Many voices, many recognizable voices, were echoing in agreement, several that Dash could immediately place a face to and several more that existed only on the fringe of his tired mind. They were all telling him that he was safe, that it was okay, that he could let go….

And when he finally did, when he reluctantly relaxed his grip and felt her fingers slide away, there was no force on earth that could have kept Dash from passing out. Her touch had been the last pillar keeping him conscious and he quickly went limp without it, succumbing to the darkness that had been steadily, incessantly, tugging at him; and as he mercifully began to sink into that nothingness, he heard a hurricane of furious yells from his dad, from Mr. Dicker and even Winston, all three of them shouting to get his legs freed immediately.

My legs…? If Dash weren't so dangerously depleted, he would have laughed. He didn't care about his stupid legs. Whether they managed to pry him free or not, whether he woke up whole or to a pair of bloody, bandaged stumps—it was the farthest thing from his mind. Everything was growing startlingly dark, the ache that gripped his body was slipping… and then he felt it.

A hand so soft yet so warm rustled his hair, soothing him in a way he knew he was never going to experience again. Her touch hurt… it hurt so bad, the most excruciating pain of his short life, but he couldn't help the way her loving motions caused the corners of his mouth to quirk up in a silent smile. It was for her, only for her… and it was probably the last genuine one he would ever give.

I hope… wherever you are, I hope you're safe, mom. He couldn't speak it, he lacked the energy, the motor skills; this was nothing more than the last few synapses of his mind firing off into the gloom. You were the light of my world and I… I…

He struggled against himself; it was all fading so fast but he desperately fought to hold on. The warmth of Helen's hand moved from the top of his head to cradle his cheek, giving him the strength to finish.

I'll always love you, mom….

XXXX

Sixteen months later, the world was a very different place. The news of Elastigirl's death spread like wildfire throughout very major news network across the globe, and the reaction was deafening. Elastigirl monuments were erected, marches were held, it was nearly a collapse of order as the public found blame against those who had previously dragged their feet on allowing Supers to do their job. Due to their rampant negligence, the world had lost its brightest symbol of hope to evil—and it was a day that would forever be a blight against justice.

Not long after, there was a major seat-shuffling in the government—several people resigned, many quit, and some vanished without a trace. It paved the way for a new era, one spearheaded by Winston Deavor, who, after severing all ties to anything related to his sibling and her existence, was quick to give Supers back the power that they should have had years ago.

The name of the operation was 'revenge', pure and simple. There was no point in hiding it, no one even tried to suggest otherwise—contrary to being crushed spiritually, the populous was ablaze with rallies against villains that numbered in the thousands and persisted faithfully to this day. The entire world knew what had to be done, any other plan of action was unthinkable. One of the most loved souls to ever protect had been taken from them… and a heavy price had to be paid.

The nations came together to organize a strike team comprised of some of their most prominent Supers to hunt down Evelyn Deavor and bring her to justice. It was unanimously decided that Mr. Incredible take the helm and he accepted the role with a blazing resolve, leading them from one lead to the next in a flurry. The public was on their side, the government was giving them aide, the resources were near limitless—it was only a matter of time before Evelyn Deavor was found, before the world could rest.

Before he could rest.

Hands in his pockets, Dash trudged up a hill he had traversed more times than he cared to remember. He could have made the journey blindfolded, letting his legs lead the way. They were what brought him here after all, that familiar throbbing in his knees. When he was excavated from the ground all those months ago, they told him a normal person's legs would have been reduced to mush, but due to his power and his unnaturally granite-like leg muscles, he would make a full recovery pending a few months of physical rehabilitation.

And that… was certainly good news, good enough at least to bring Violet to tears since she had been worried sick over him, but even as his dad cheered and snatched him up in a rib-cracking hug, what was there to really be happy about? So his legs weren't a lost cause, did that bring her back? Did that somehow retroactively make him able to save her life? Or did it just remind him that he was alive while the one he failed to protect wasn't?

The frustrated tears he shed that day, smothered under his dad, went by unnoticed.

The further he walked, the more he allowed himself to enjoy the day. Clouds dotted an otherwise marble blue sky while the sun laid down an enjoyable haze of warmth. Gentle drafts of wind rustled his hair and he almost smiled as he carefully stepped between the graves of fallen Supers. Some of them he knew, others he didn't, but all he respected.

So many of them had died within the past half a year—so many had gladly thrown themselves in the line of fire if it meant getting them one step closer to finding Evelyn Deavor, and Dash would forever keep their names with him until it was inevitably his turn to join them on this hallowed hill.

Before his mother was taken from him, Dash always figured he would follow the typical motions of life: get a wife, have some kids, adopt a dog, live a full life spoiling his grandkids, the whole nine yards. With her gone, he got the feeling that path had been lost to him—not that he cared much, it was just obvious that her death had thrown him onto an entirely new track. He didn't expect to live very long, not with how he planned to eradicate villainy, so if he somehow saw the age of twenty then he would take that as a nudge from his mother to keep living. And if he didn't… well, that would be less time wasted wondering this world aimlessly, wouldn't it?

By medical standards, so long as his heart continued to beat, then Dash was deemed alive, but he had never felt so taciturn, so disconnected from the everything; and oddly enough, it was a feeling that comforted him as much as it tortured him. He welcomed the trauma that woke him up so violently he had to clutch his mouth with both hands to keep from screaming, and he reveled in hearing Evelyn Deavor's snake-like voice erupt from whatever shadow he passed, whispering the very line that was forever seared into his brain: I've always wanted to do that.

Even now, it brought his blood to a boil without fail and his walk turned into a forceful march.

Metroville Super Graveyard was where Dash spent a majority of his time whenever he wasn't at school or being forced to endure therapy for his night terrors. It was a specially crafted graveyard that existed in secret, away from the public, where only Supers both alive and deceased were allowed. It helped conceal the identity of the heroes who perished in the line of duty—to protect their friends and family, mostly—while also ensuring they received a burial befitting their service.

It was the weirdest thing... the first time he was called to publicly speak about his mom, only he couldn't be seen as Dash Parr, no, that would have been the equivalent of painting a big red target over himself, his family, and anyone who knew them. He—all of them—had to appear in their Super suits, the anonymity of which made the entire thing feel disgustingly impersonal, so much so that halfway into his prepared speech, Dash just walked off stage, leaving his father to quickly blame his abrupt leave on the grief. It was a necessary precaution to keep their family safe, Dash knew that, but from where he stood, it was also a stupid one, at least where his family was concerned. Evelyn Deavor already knew them pretty well beyond the costumes—hell, he was genuinely surprised she hadn't ousted them to the public yet or sent some of her flunkies to knock down their door.

Maybe she was enjoying the chaos that followed killing his mom… or maybe she knew that breaching the statue of secrecy surrounding Supers would immediately get her the death penalty. Oh, how he wished she would be so brave… but so far, aside from a few personally written letters threatening more deaths and a couple glimpses through pictures, Evelyn herself might as well have become a shadow in the world of villainy, a shadow that stretched far and consumed whatever it touched.

The grass crunched under Dash's shoes as he came to a stop in front of a massive statue depicting Elastigirl in one of her trademark hero poses. Commissioned by Winston and crafted by some of the most talented sculptures money could buy, it was a marvelous feat, filled with all the love everyone held for the fallen hero. Even now, as Dash noted the little distinguishing features he had noted a million times before—like the separate strands of hair or how lithe her fingers were—his chest tightened to the point where breathing was a chore, but he forced a toothy smile.

It was a quivering one to be sure, lined with the tears that trickled down his cheeks, but still, he smiled.

"Hey, mom."

A watery chuckled left him and he sniffled. Already, he could hear her scolding tone, wondering why he wasn't in school since it was technically a weekday. Not that it mattered. Despite a surprising uptick in his grades, Dash regularly skipped classes, or, like right now, the entire school day. It got to be such a problem that Mr. Dicker, while wholly sympathetic, couldn't take anymore and decided to get one of his subordinates hired at Dash's school so they could deliver a mind-altering flash whenever it happened. The only stipulation was that Dash's grade had to maintain themselves, and they did. Originally, Dash had planned on going to school, if only to get his sister to quit nagging him, but when he woke up with his old leg wounds throbbing, any plans on receiving a higher education went out the window—he knew where he was truly needed.

When he took a knee next to the headstone, his eyes traced the gold lettering that spelled her name and he had to swallow hard to keep himself composed. He bowed his head for a moment of silence, then looked up with a smile. "Um, hey, look what I got…took a lotta effort but I still did it," and he pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his jacket pocket. After some smoothing, he lifted it up high. "See? Remember that English test I had? Well, bam! Took Vi' forever to drill the basics into my thick head but I passed!"

It was always painful, the silence that followed, the lack of reaction, but he was well used to it and, after stowing the test sheet back in his pocket, plowed on ahead with what his morning consisted of. He told her how Violet had burned his eggs (again) and how when Jack-Jack stubbed his toe he let loose a screech that wound up summoning a plethora of eagles.

"—so we're not sure but that's probably 'beast tamer' added to the list now," Dash continued, shaking his head with a simple shrug. "I dunno how many powers that kids gonna have but whatever, as long as he doesn't get super speed then we'll still be best bros'. Can't have my little brother edging me out on my own territory, ya know?"

When he laughed, he imagined her laughing with him. It helped keep the encroaching loneliness at bay.

"Oh—OH—and I almost forgot! Today marks a full month since my leg—"

His lips continued to move but a series of sharp beeps had drowned him out and Dash immediately froze. All at once his stomach dropped into a void and he started to tremble where he stood. His throat was suddenly very dry, too dry to swallow, and he slowly glanced down the front of his shirt. Around his neck was a necklace made of some of the toughest alloy the world had to offer, and on it dangled a silver pendant in the shape of a heart.

Frantically, Dash pulled it free, hardly daring to believe. The beeping had subsided into a flashing red light like that of a fire truck, a beacon easily spotted regardless of distance.

Really…?

Paralysis wiped the feeling out of Dash's legs and he hit the ground on his knees, pursing his lips together to keep silent. He clutched the pendant in both hands until his knuckles turned white and lurched forward, slamming his forehead to the dirt. He knew he was crying, the painful sound of his uneven sobs carried far in the surrounding silence.

Two weeks after burying Elastigirl, Winston Deavor had approached the Parr family with a set of specially crafted pendants, each one tailor made for them and only them. He felt that before anyone else, they should be the ones to receive closure concerning their loss and told them that on the day their pendants were activated, it would be the day that Evelyn Deavor had been captured.

Relief and elation flooded Dash so quickly that he grew lightheaded. Somewhere, he knew the pendants of the rest of his family were going off as well. What were they doing? How did they feel? Were they like him, numb with joy? He fought to breathe properly; every breath came in with a rattle and left as a wheeze. All over again, he felt as drained as he did on the day his mom died, except this time he punched the earth with a fist, refusing to stay grounded.

"C'mon, Dash, get up….It's not over yet," he muttered shakily to himself, making the arduous climb back to his feet and wiping under his runny nose. Standing as straight as his trembling form would allow, Dash narrowed his eyes in the direction of his home. Right now, he knew everyone was racing there, from his family to Winston to Mr. Dicker—it was the rendezvous point for this exact moment, the moment they had all been waiting for….

Tensing his leg muscles to a dangerous degree, he glanced back up at the statue of his mom, still standing over him, still protecting him, and smiled as wide as he could.

"I love you, mom, but I gotta go, alright? There's some, uh… unfinished business we have to take care of, but don't worry. I'll be back soon," Dash promised, and he blurred out of sight.

A/N: Great way to begin the new year, yeah? Hahahaha....

[theredheadstory]

MY STORY (I): The Redhead behind The Redhead Story

Hi. Hallo. Ciao. Salut. Julia Bell here, founder and writer of The Redhead Story.

It’s wonderful to have you with me; thank you for tagging along as I am on my way to step it up a notch, pushing The Redhead Story to an actual brand level and launching my new, beautiful corner of the internet in just a few weeks’ time. (It’s anything but boring; no, not like this space here, I promise! It will be completely revamped! Eeek, I cannot wait to show you guys.)

Who’s so excited with me?

It’s such a big step with a lot of scary moments, but I am still here.

Now, I know that some of you have been tagging along for quite some time, having seen this blog space changed, tweaked, filled with my personal stories mostly. And I know that there are new faces following, too. That’s why I want to give you more; create more valuable insights and content for you, my readers. Ultimately, you are the engine of what I do.

This is the first entry of an 8-post website/brand pre-launch series called “MY STORY”.

I thought those few weeks before the actual website will be launched and The Redhead Story be presented in a new light would be the perfect time to reflect back on where I have started - just to see how far I have come. Also, since integrity is one of my main values and I always want to stay true to myself, with my personality shining through in everything I do (for the personal touch and approachability, which is super important to me), it might be just the perfect moment to share a little bit about myself. A good starting point for all of us.

Ready? Grab a cup of coffee (I have mine right next to me, with a splash of whole milk), light a candle if you want (I am smelling pumpkin spice right now, my leftover candle from fall, but never gets old), and sit back.

This is why I am who I am.  

A Lesson Learned

A German native, I grew up in a small town north of Hannover, where it’s flat, there are a lot of forests, and also wide open spaces with a lot of horses. Oh, and it’s super close to the North Sea. Going skiing in Austria and vacationing on Föhr (a dreamy North Frisian Island I love) have been my family's favorite annual things to do. And I didn’t complain.

When I was 16, I, for the very first time, felt this desire to go abroad.

It was this time when a handful of people from my high school went abroad for an exchange semester or year.

Combined with my love for languages - especially English -, and my parents’ support, I took the leap and jetted off to America for the very first time in my life, to stay with a host family I had never seen before; to go to a school I had never been to; and to experience a culture I had never immersed myself in. It.was.hard. 

But, spoiler alert: I had the time of my life.

My friends and host family (they are still part of my life and just recently flew out to attend my wedding here in San Diego, for which I am so absolutely thankful) were an integral part in my developing American love story.

Funny, how, now that I am married (expect more posts about how all that happened), the term “American love story” gets such a different meaning.

Then, upon my return home to Germany, I experienced an intense, reverse culture shock. I learned that people moved on without me, that I changed, and that some relationships are not meant to last forever. This living abroad experience should leave its mark on me forever. And I will forever be grateful for that opportunity that literally changed my outlook on life and brought me to where I am today.

As sad and intimidating as it was to see that some people were not who I thought they were, there was a greater lesson to be learned for me:

I’d learned how much more there was to this world. It sparked my fire for travel and new experiences, which has continued ever since.

From a Small Town Girl to a German Expat in London

Education furthered my travel bug. I finished high school. While working towards my Bachelor’s Degree in Germany for Political Science and American Studies, I continually hopped back to my previous host family in New York.

Then, London drew me in for my Masters.

I initially didn’t want to pursue my Masters degree but thinking of combining it with another study abroad experience just made so much sense. I saw this as an immense opportunity, both personally and professionally.

And so I started sending out applications. Goldsmiths College, University of London, is where I should be going; Political Communications it should be.

Fast forward, equipped with one suitcase and a carry on, I began a new adventure back in summer of 2013

While in the heart of the UK, I traversed Scotland, England and Ireland. I was over the moon with all these places I could explore so easily, as they were right at my fingertips.

With these red locks, I fit right in. (I always call specifically Scotland my spiritual home.)

It was my UK travels that launched this blog : The Redhead Story.

Fueled by a love of writing and need for a creative outlet, I began travel blogging to share my experiences. (I am a chatty little ginger, as my mom would say; this hasn’t changed throughout the years.)

As I poured in more energy, my skills and tools improved - like upgrading camera types and image styles (still a lot to learn in that realm, but already looking into a new camera now that a new website will be launching and high quality content is important to me). But that’s the beauty of life; both then and now, there’s always still so much room to grow.

This is also when I began writing for other blogs or even smaller travel brands.

By that time I already knew that this is something I want to do full-time at some point in life. But it seemed unreal. (And here I am now, just having wrapped up my full time job to focus on this little business, so near and dear to my heart.)

After graduation from my Masters, the next chapter was a mystery.  

How an Opportunity Landed Me as a Travel Blogger in California

I returned to Germany in late summer of 2014, deeply unhappy. I wasn’t sure where my life was going but one thing I knew for sure: I needed to be somewhere abroad. I started a job in a marketing firm but day-dreamed of packing my back and jetting off to the U.S. in hopes I would figure life out, or simply back to London. But we all know: both would have been quite costly in the long run.

A new year, and I joined the team at the German American Chamber of Commerce California. Working in their Cultural Exchange program was the melding of my life thus far : bilingual language skills, international collaborations and, specifically, working with the United States, a place so dear to my heart.

I still found myself in Germany but hey, at least I communicated with people from the U.S.

But life is a beautiful thing and even though I am a planner, not knowing what comes next can be quite thrilling.

Then, THE opportunity came : The chance to continue as a part of the organization in sunny San Diego.

It was an immediate YES.

How San Diego Travel Writing Has Empowered a Balanced, Healthy Lifestyle

It was a matter of about what - 3 weeks? And off I was, California bound. This was all so very unreal.

I arrived in San Diego. I had my a room lined up. I knew the office address. The rest was a blank piece of paper. I needed to write my story. More so: I had the opportunity to write it in a place I have never been but dreamed of going for so long.

Being here has fueled my desire to see more of this diverse country. It has given me so many other new opportunities I am so thankful for. It’s not all roses and butterflies, but since I set foot on California’s southernmost city’s soil, I found a base, a home. Certainly, meeting my adventure pal over here who I will be sharing life with from now on (a separate post about that is to follow) plays a huge role in that.

Ever since, I have relished my work, America’s Finest City and pursuing my travel writing.

Throughout my time in the UK, Germany and the States since, I’ve written for a variety of outlets, collaborating with various publications to create content that helps readers to truly experience a place.

Because traveling isn’t just about seeing a site. Traveling :

Expands your mind.

Is a process of personal growth.

Is my favorite way to achieve a balanced life.

With slow travel that is : Diving into one city or area for longer periods of time. Even if very active, it lets us slow down and gain appreciation for our surroundings.

Whether exploring the Arizona desert, hiking in Rocky Mountain National Park, or walking small towns in England, I also believe travel is the best way to internal reflection. Especially the more we can get outdoors. The chance to walk. To hike. To ride through a city by bicycle.

I’m passionate about seeing the world up close. Not from a car window. I love going slow, soaking it all in - reflecting.

As I continue life as a German expat in the U.S., I will continue writing, sharing stories of exploring my backyard, going on day and weekend trips, shorter and longer getaways in the U.S. and across borders.

A Journey of Traveling & Personal Growth

I invite you to join me on my very personal journey and see the world through my eyes. It is about personal growth - because that’s what exploring does to you: It changes your perspective on things, in a good way. It allows you to see a broader picture, interact with people, understand more.

By no means am I a travel expert, but I have one thing: passion. A passion for sharing personal experiences, creating my story and ultimately inspiring yours.

I hope the new The Redhead Story corner will be an inspiration for you and I am excited to hopefully hear more about your stories, about how exploring and “going out there - doesn’t matter where - has impacted your life and perspective on life and furthered personal growth.

Thank you for being part of this (life) adventure.

Because adventure is what you define for yourself.

I hope you got to know me a little better and understand where I am coming from. If you have any questions, I’d love to hear from you.

___________________________________________

The next post of my 8-post website & brand pre-launch series will be highlighting my approach to travel and how this has changed. Stay tuned!

Instagram // Twitter

[hpimagines-galore]

Ship request

@1dindaplace requested the following

“Hi! Can I have a harry potter, avengers and narnia ship please ? My mother tongue is french. I'm smol (5'2") and tiny, I have brown hair and green eyes. I love travelling ! I like going out with friends, reading, playing piano (self learning), juggling and dancing (in front of my mirror haha). I'm 22 straight girl. I study psychology at the university. I love learning. I'm ravenclaw, ENFJ and aries. I try to go out of my comfort zone. Humour is really important for me. I'm optimistic, independent and I try to be kind to everyone. I'm patient and honest. Sometimes I lack of confidence and I get shy. I overthink way to often, I'm a daydreamer. I'm bad with expressing my feelings and anything related to love. I'm a pop corn addict. My dream is to go to the titicacasee. I'm really lazy but I still need to do sport often to release stress. I dont mind public speaking at all. I love rollercoasters. I hate driving. I always say "tu me vends du rêve" (its often sarcastic)....sorry I gave you many informations 😂 (sorry for my english) Thank you a lot! Have a good day”

_______________________________________________________________________

I ship you with George Weasley.

You were quite shy and a muggle born so it was hard to participate and show initiative in school for fear of being judged but you were super smart which was why you ended up in Ravenclaw. But contrary to anyone’s beliefs you were intelligent a sort of beautiful smart that sometimes shocked people to the core if they got into a deep conversation with you. That’s exactly what happened between you and George Weasley. You were both paired off in your muggle class to work on a single project. You knew the Weasley only took the class for the easy grade and of course his fascination with anything innovative that the muggles could come up with, which hurt you a bit. Not because he personally did anything but because of the lack of enthusiasm in the Wizarding world to holistically integrate the muggle-born population or even give you the chance of understanding their world. It frustrated you and you addressed that him. George was fascinated with you and you were quite oblivious to it. He followed your every move and fit was quite endearing to the Hogwarts population. He didn’t even realize when he fell for you, maybe it was your open-minded outlook in life, or maybe it was the free-spirited nature it could have just as much been your addiction to popcorn. All George knew was that he liked you a lot. So when he indirectly asked you out on a date, which sounded more like a business transaction your sarcastic comment was “tu me vends du reve,” before smiling and agreeing to date the goofball.

I ship you with Steve Rogers aka Captain America

You were working for a catering company in New York and it seemed like finally your company had a breakthrough in the industry and was hired by Stark Industries to cater the event. You would think that this would have you jumping in glee but you had realized that the hype wore off after doing many big gigs. Men were same old jerks when they had a bit of too much alcohol in them they would turn into pigs. That’s exactly what had happened at this event. A man who believed that his inheritance would buy his way into your bed. And you were quite sick of it all. Who did he think he was? Was she so easy and not worth a proper courting before getting with a man. You sighed for the tenth time that night as he spewed on nonsense. “I can have us fly to Italy if that’s what you like sweetheart just think about this is a once in a lifetime offer.”

You smiled uncomfortably as you mumbled, “tu me vends du reve.”

“Come now don’t be a prude,” he said as he went to grab you when someone stopped him with a firm grip.

“I think the lady is not interested,” his voice rang clear and loud. You looked up and caught yourself lost in his blue eyes.

The man who was bothering you a few seconds ago realized that he wouldn’t win against a stronger contender and backed off.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

He smiled, “no worries. I am Steve Rogers, I am sorry but I couldn’t help myself step in when I noticed you try to shake off that man for a long while.”

“He was quite persistent,” you mumbled rolling your eyes, “but thank you.”

“I’m sorry but can I get your name?” Steve said awkwardly as he searched his head.

You smirked deviously, “My good sir you must know that you do have to work for that privilege.”

“Y/n” you sighed and shook your head as you were called. You smiled before winking back at Steve.

I ship you with Peter Pevensie aka King of Narnia

You met Peter through your sister’s best friend who happened to be his little sister. Lucy and your sister were inseperable and the two were quite a mischevious bunch. It was very shocking to see them ever fight and  not make up within the span of two hours. So when their fued went on for about a week you knew something was wrong so you had marched up there to the Pevensie house to find out exactly what happened. Before you could knock on the door it was pulled wide open and you came face to face with a hard chest. One you could not keep your eyes off. 

“Oh my lord I am so sorry,” you quickly scrambled to gain your bearings and pride.

“Y/n? I presume,” Peter replied. You knew it was him you’ve seen him in school before but he had never shown an ounce of interest to you. So that little school girl crush was long gone and dead.

“Yes. I am actually here about Lucy and Libby,” you mumbled.

“Yes, actually mom and dad were discussing something going on. Is everything alright?” he asked concerned.

“That’s what I’d like to find out,” you answered.

“Well please come in,” he offered.

The two of you spend the entire day trying to mastermind a plan that would bring your sisters back to being the annoying little hell devils they were.

“I suggest we tie them up and throw them on a boat in the middle of the ocean. They are bound to talk and make up,” replied Peter.

“Yes Peter because nothing says more than an ocean full of sharks to bring two friends together “tu me vends du reve,” you said sarcastically.

“You speak French?” Peter asked shocked.

“Yes,” you answered unsure.

“I did not know that,” he answered.

“Well now you do,” you answered and for some reason you found yourself a bit too close to his face. He had leaned forward and before you knew you were both making out in the kitchen. Suddenly you two had to break apart when you heard something shatter.

Turning towards the sound you both found the grinning faces of your siblings Lucy and Libby who giggled in thriump. Peter had gotten up and made his way over as he chased after the two mischief makers. 

You laughed silently shaking your head.

[artificialqueens]

But I'm A Cheerleader! - Chapter 4 (Aja x Farrah) - Millie

A/N: I hope you all enjoy a little Sashea ;) 

PS: the big paragraphs of italics in this chapter (and possibly later ones) are flashbacks.

The rehearsals weren’t as stressful as Aja thought they’d be. Sure, it was full of awkward glances between her and Farrah, and Cynthia feeding them instructions every second through a drip, but it wasn’t too bad. As long as they didn’t talk to each other in that gym, she could get on with her life. It was strange seeing everyone together in normal activewear as apposed to their cheerleading outfits.

“Okay - 5, 6, 7, 8!” Cynthia shouted. Automatically, everybody started doing the routine again, and it was just as torturous as the first time. All of them had almost forgotten how hard starting a new routine could be.

After a couple of sweaty minutes, it was all over; the digital clock above them hit 5:00. Hopefully all the rehearsals and performances in the weeks to come would be worth it. Aja pulled her sweat-drenched hair into a ponytail, wiping her forehead as others did the same. Silently, apart from their heavy breathing, they made their way to the locker rooms. Each locker room was made up of two rooms separated by a set of showers (not that anyone there used public showers) so it could accommodate a whole class of students for PE. The Bombers and the Glamazons just used that to their advantage and separated themselves. Even if they were now on the “same team” for the Cheerleader Tryouts, that wasn’t going to force them to integrate.

“I agree! People should definitely eat more chocolate,” Aja heard Sasha say from across the room. She turned to watch her, confused about why on earth she was talking about chocolate, and noticed her eyeing up Shea. Maybe it was a coincidence.

“Right?!” Shea replied, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear before removing her tight-fitting shirt. It might’ve been the angle she was looking from, but Aja was pretty sure she saw Sasha’s pupils dilate. She couldn’t judge her for that though - Shea’s body was pretty much flawless. She had to tear her eyes away before anyone noticed.

Aja quickly pulled on her sweater and stuffed her sweaty clothes into her sports bag, sitting down on the creaky bench and waiting for Sasha to finish getting changed so they could walk home. As she checked her phone for the next few minutes she kept glancing at her and Shea, and the way they interacted warmed her heart, yet made her feel… concerned. Sasha was her best friend, and Shea had the reputation of being very flirty (hell, one of her lines in the cheer was dedicated to it). If Shea was leading Sasha on then it’d break her heart.

In freshman year, Sasha came out to Aja. At the time, it was such a strange concept for both of them, considering their ages and the taboo that followed it, but it only brought them closer. Aja had been with Sasha through every breakup, heartbreak, and even that one crush on a straight girl last year; she hoped that history wouldn’t be repeating itself. If Shea was attracted to girls in any way, she hadn’t said anything. But she gave off a vibe that Aja’s accurate “gaydar” tuned in to.

Aja still had yet to come out to Sasha. Maybe a year or so later, she had realised the same thing about herself. Some days she’d tell herself today was the day, but never plucked up the courage to do so. No one knew, and God knows how she’d kept it under her hat for so long.

“Come on, Ajy-poo,” Sasha said. She called her that one time in mockery of pet names, and it stuck.

Aja rolled her eyes as she got up. “Alright. Bye, guys.”

“Bye, Shea.” Sasha touched her curly blonde hair and looked back at her, smiling.

Shea smiled back. “See ya.”

They exited the school via the back door and were greeted with the aggressive wind. Luckily, they were prepared with warm clothing, unlike last night. The journey from school to home was roughly a twenty minute walk for both of them. They’d first became friends on the way to school, and now it was routine for them to walk together. Hopefully, Sasha would suspect something after they walked separately this morning.

Aja’s mom had lied when she said “high school will be the best experience of your life, honest!”. It was halfway through the week, and she had no friends so far. Lunchtimes and breaks were lonely half-hours, and classes were just as excluding. No one wanted to be friends with the girl with a septum piercing and pastel hair.

With her backpack hanging off one shoulder, Aja set off that solitary Thursday morning. All her friends in middle school went to their nearest high school just a couple of minutes away, and this week was making her wonder why she didn’t do the same thing. She thought she was doing the right thing when she applied to Tuckahoe - it specialised in performing arts, for one - but apparently not. For a school that taught so many alternative people, it sure was judgemental. Her acne scars didn’t help, either. Her freckles hid some of them, but not as much as she would’ve liked. It was just another one of her insecurities coming to a new school, and comments in the corridors and behind her back weren’t doing any good.

“Can you just fuck off?!” a deep, feminine voice shouted round the corner. Giggles followed the statement, making Aja stop in her tracks. The sickly sweet noise sounded like the “popular” girls in her grade, and when she peered her head around the corner she found that she was correct. Cowering below them was a girl with curly blonde hair that came to her shoulders, her art book gripped tightly in her hand.

Now was Aja’s chance to escape; those girls hadn’t made her a victim yet this week, and she wasn’t about to become one. But if her mom ever found out she left someone in a situation like that she’d never hear the end of it.

She turned the corner confidently and was greeted with looks sharp enough to pierce the firm, silver septum ring hanging from her nose.

“What are you doing here?” one of them demanded. It was crazy how much authority they already had. The blonde girl turned around with fear and relief evident on her face.

What was she doing here? There wasn’t anything she could do or say to stop them. At a loss for words, Aja just stood there, desperately trying to think of something to say.

“Come on, guys,” a different girl said. “That weirdo won’t talk. Let’s leave them.” They turned around in perfect synchronisation, like robots, and continued their walk to school, or maybe trying to find another victim.

Aja let out a breath of relief.

“Thanks for that,” the blonde said, smiling shyly.

She scoffed. “Please, all I did was stand there like a "weirdo”. Are you alright?“

The girl nodded. "People describe things as "weird” when they don’t understand them,“ she said. "They probably don’t understand anything other than popularity and boys.”

“And walking away like cowards,” Aja added with a laugh.

The girl laughed with her. “I’m Sasha, by the way.” She extended her hand and Aja shook it.

“I’m Aja,” she replied. “Do you want to walk with me?”

“Sure,” Sasha said. Maybe both of their weeks wouldn’t be so bad after all.

-

“Aja Storms and Farrah Moan, may you please make your way to my office?” Miss RuPaul announced over the speaker the next morning.

The Glamazons gave Aja a weird look. Neither one of them had a valid explanation for the situation, even Aja. The only reason they’d both be called up is because of the-

Aja’s phone buzzed.

Farrah I listed you as a witness to the mugging. Nothing to worry about.

Nothing to worry about?! Now she’d have to come up with some lame and unconvincing excuse for why the hell she was even called up in the first place. It was like Farrah was trying to keep them together, but the reason for that was unknown. That one night was supposed to be forgotten about; unmentioned; zip. Yeah, Aja had asked her to let her know when stuff was resolved, but she wasn’t expecting this - now she was a part of it. She was already, but now-

It was all beginning to overwhelm her.

She pushed her seat out from under her as she shot up, giving a brief “see you later” to her friends and storming down the hallway to Miss RuPaul’s office for the second time this week. Standing outside her door was Farrah, her long blonde hair tied up in a ponytail and her phone clutched in her hand. Before Aja could even say anything, she spoke.

“I can’t lie to the police, Aja,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “You’re a witness, and that’s that.”

“And what will we tell our teams?” Aja replied with malice in her tone. She was still walking up the corridor as they talked. “That I helped you, and you were at my house? That someone who you’re supposed to be hating knows about what could be the scariest night of your life even more than they do?”

Farrah looked down. “You’re the only one who knows about it.”

Aja’s eyes widened, opening her mouth to speak but nothing coming out.

“When you helped me, I thought I could trust you. So, take it as a compliment.”

That statement almost calmed her anger, the key word here being almost. She gritted her teeth and rolled her hands into fists. Now she realised it, she was more angry at herself than she was at Farrah.

Miss RuPaul opened the door. “Girls, come in,” she said, her eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. They could tell she’d heard the commotion.

Reluctantly, they followed her instruction and entered. Also standing by the headmistress’ desk was one of the Glamazon footballers, his arms behind his back and his face showing concern. Aja was pretty sure his name was Luis, and she recognised him from their party on Monday night. The two cheerleaders sat down on the chairs facing Miss RuPaul’s desk.

“Aja, Farrah has informed me that you witnessed the mugging on Tuesday night,” she said, tilting her head as she looked at Aja.

“Well, I didn’t really see the whole thing-”

Farrah kicked her shin with her heel, earning a whimper from her.

“But, yeah, I saw it.”

“Well, girls, Luis came to me with some information about that night.” All three of them turned to face him.

“A couple friends of mine were out in that area,” he said, resting his arms by his sides. “Yesterday they were acting super shady, and once I heard about happened I thought that maybe they played a part in it.”

Aja turned back to look at Farrah. Her eyebrows were knitted together and she looked deep in thought.

“The guys who did it were tall and strong, and they looked young,” she said. ���So, maybe. But I don’t see why they’d do it.”

“Surely something must’ve provoked it,” Aja said. “Unless they were under the influence.”

“I’ll speak to them later, if you want?” Luis suggested.

“No,” Miss RuPaul interrupted. “We have to take all of this down to the police station as soon as possible. Can all of you get there after school?” The three students nodded.

“Thank you, anyway,” Aja said, smiling up at Luis. Luis was one of the only footballers at their school that wasn’t a total ass, and he and Aja had a good friendship. Her friends often teased her about him and whether she liked him or not, but she’d heard it so much that she could just brush it off her shoulder. Plus, he had a girlfriend, Bob The Cheerleader, the senior who won Cheerleader Of The Year last year. Of course, that wasn’t her birth name, she’d just acquired it from her friends, and eventually the whole school called her that. Most people didn’t even know her real name.

The three students exited the office, Luis leaving to join the other footballers downstairs. Farrah still looked thoughtful.

“What’s up?” Aja asked, closing the door behind them as they stood on opposite sides of it.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “I feel strange; I didn’t expect for it to be resolved so soon. Is this what justice feels like?”

She shrugged. “I can’t say I’ve ever felt the way that you must feel.”

“Are you coming to the police station later?”

Aja nodded. “I kind of have to.”

“Good,” she said. “I’ll see you there.”

[airoasis]

Parents for Transgender Equality Council Launch

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/parents-for-transgender-equality-council-launch/

Parents for Transgender Equality Council Launch

Good morning, each person. Thanks a lot for becoming a member of us. My title is Sarah McBride. I’m the national press secretary at the Human Rights campaign. And it’s so unusual to be here with so many extraordinary mothers and fathers. This event marks HRC’s start of transgender week of recognition, which is every week long commemoration of the development of the transgender community, the challenges that we face, and our unfinished work. And i feel, surely for many of us, we’re somewhat bit more interested in the challenges and unfinished work forward after final week’s election. And there are frequently no better examples of the stakes of this election, the stakes of our progress, and continued efforts than the father and mother who are here at present. They’re top notch advocates. They are loving father and mother. They’re wonderful individuals. And it is truly simply amazing to have them all in one house.All of them have been speaking formerly and so they have been saying that they suppose like they knew each and every other so well from fb and specific organizations, but some of them had actually under no circumstances met in man or woman. So it can be unusual to have them together in a single place. This council we had started to prepare good before the election. However it is extra principal now than ever, as we work to shield our growth, as we work to continue to change hearts and minds, as we work to maneuver the ball ahead in localities and states and at the federal level, despite what comes our method over the following a couple of years. We’re going to hear just a little bit from them. We are also really honored to have Congressman Mike Honda, the chair of the Transgender Equality challenge force on the Hill and the grandfather of a wonderful, distinctive transgender daughter.And with that, i’m going to truely flip it over to my associate in crime, Ellen Kah, who will communicate just a little bit extra concerning the council and introduce Congressman Honda. Ellen? Thanks Sarah. Excellent morning, each person. Thanks. And it is lovely to look all of you here. And again, simply the warmth of the moms and dads who are right here, we will really suppose it within the room.It’s major to mention that this moms and dads for Transgender Equality Council, which is formally live in these days, includes other mum and dad who couldn’t be here today. But now we have representation from about six of the households who are a part of this council. I do know that mother and father can change the world. I’ve seen it everyday. We do it by advocating for our children round disorders concerning their safeguard, their wellness, their education, their good-being. And we know for transgender kids that having help and love from our parents is fairly the most important key to our success. But it surely’s no longer adequate often. There is quite a few hostility and a variety of discrimination that beckons beyond the dependable doorways and partitions of our properties. The father and mother who are here in these days are doing the whole lot they can to inform their experiences and to vary hearts and minds in order that what they’ve created of their properties, a situation of affection and aid, will also be spread to the larger world.So that their kids and all transgender folks can consider riskless and welcome and integrated. And i believe that there aren’t any extra robust voices than mum and dad. Can transfer mountains. Can sit-in entrance of an unfriendly legislator and speak about their family and to find that human connection. Not most effective are these men and women doing what parents do every day, which is trying to get their youngsters to school. And perhaps it is tuition purposes or managing to get them to soccer or simply dealing with the messy rooms and all those matters that every day parents do. They may be also stretching to– at usually, some chance to their families and their privacy, be there for other mothers and fathers.Lots of them are concerned with their regional PFLAG chapters and delivering that direct aid to other mum and dad. Growing reliable area for other father and mother. They are making change in their college districts. They’re making alternate in their local pediatric sanatorium. They are going well past simply that micro advocacy of their possess children. So we wish to thank and acknowledge these loving and courageous mom and dad and i know you are going to enjoy listening to more from them in only some minutes.To begin us off, we are joined today by using Congressman Mike Honda from California. He has been a champion for the LGBT group, each in his role as a member of Congress proper now, but also for many years within the California State meeting. And as Sara recounted, now not simplest is he an extraordinarily strong legislator who leads on LGBTQ equality, he is additionally the application father of a trans little one and his daughter Michelle is part of our council however now not here in these days.So i do know that he’ll channel Michelle’s passion and commitment when he speaks to you this morning. So please give a warm welcome to representative Mike Honda. Thanks, Ellen. And it can be a tall order to channel my daughter. I do not believe there is a place broad ample to challenge all her efforts. My name is Mike Honda, i am the grandfather of Melissa. Who at 18 months stated, i’m a girl. And at at virtually three years she says, i am a girl and my title is Melissa and this is the way you spell it. After which when she grew to become seven, our loved ones, led by way of my daughter Michelle, stated, we’re on the experience now.She was once satisfied that the consistency and persistency and the– what are the three words? Persistence, regular, and insistence. Convinced her that that is the pathway to move. And as I listened to my daughter communicate in extraordinary areas, she fills in the gaps that I did not learn about for the period of her journey with Mellisa. And she or he talks concerning the things that she wish she understood better. But in the course of that entire experience, she used to be perpetually open and loving and accepting, but also having to take care of certain problems that we’ve got been taught.And so in her clarification of her journey, it can be helped me and on this journey of mine, i have been helped fairly slightly with businesses, such as this, such as HRC. Such as PFLAG. When I used to be on tuition boards and matters like that, the place dad and mom were instructing policymakers and other adults the best way to recognize distinctive things that are not within their own experience. And today, now we have technological know-how that’s so pervasive that we are able to use technology and our possess personal studies to head out and instruct. And i suppose the challenges that we now have are still very normal as we have realized when we begin our own journey and that it saves lives. And it’s about growing a new normalcy. And it can be about redefining all these terminologies we’ve got learned or been taught due to the fact beginning. The whole thing from colours, red and blue, to the binary working out of gender from man and girl after which spreading that out and figuring out the whole dilemma of gender spectrum. And so my vocabulary has converted.In order a dad or mum, as a grandparent, i have been trying to find different ways to share the matters that I learn as I learn them. And be as available to different persons. More chiefly, with Asian-american citizens. Due to the fact our group is repeatedly very difficult to work with or for us to work with our possess selves, considering that we’ve got so many internalized notions about ourselves about what gender is all about. So it is a trip that is well worth taking. And i suppose the field that i am most worried about is pre-pubescent. That age team, due to the fact that of my granddaughter Melissa, I simply want to be ready to be invaluable in laying that groundwork and that future for him in approaches so that it will make her existence and transition as reliable and easy as possible.And i believe that sharing our studies and taking note of you, I’ve already discovered this morning one of the crucial things that wants to be finished. However as a policymaker, I just need to say that we have to engage our policymakers to take leadership roles and to comprehend and gain knowledge of. They I must have one hundred% understanding. I didn’t. All I knew used to be there was once a responsibility to do some thing and once we based the Transgender Equality mission force, we had two conferences. And the first assembly was once about the experiences people have had they usually shared it, and the second used to be San Jose, where we had various younger persons there. And you certainly not be aware of what’s going to occur as a result of talking and being public about disorders. And it grew to become out just a few weeks later, one high institution through the efforts of the young individuals, created a trouble at their high college that the entire lavatory services will likely be all gender.And so they go it as the scholar body. Then they went to the university board and asked them to preserve that. And so I think the work that we’re about to enter into it as father and mother of transgender children and the browsing for this thing we call equity will probably be earth shattering. But whilst, as a grandfather, I simply need us to be competent to claim to our kids as they go away residence, have a howdy and i will see you when you get again. Thanks. Thank you a lot, congressman. And Melissa is so fortunate to have you as a grandfather.You might be very fortunate to have her as a grandchild and the trans neighborhood is so fortunate to have you ever as a pal and an ally. Now, i have the pleasure of turning it over to our mothers and fathers. And one of the matters I think is predominant to bear in mind as we move forward is that the exchange that is irreversible are the hearts which have been opened and the minds which were converted. And that has occurred considering that so many families have come forward and informed their reports. So many moms and dads have come earlier than the country, come earlier than lawmakers, come earlier than their communities, to share their reports, to educate the general public a little bit bit extra about what it way to be transgender, and standing shoulder to shoulder with transgender folks, demonstrating that we’re adored, we are valuable, and we are equal. And as anybody who I feel is particularly conscious of this historic movement that we’re part of and watching out at these parents, I are not able to aid but think about generations from now. A young transgender kid who will be trained about the battle for justice and equality of their textbooks and by no means need to comprehend what this growth feels prefer to us.Considering the fact that they’re going to certainly not understand whatever exceptional. And as a way to be because of the parents in this room, seeing that of transgender men and women throughout this country, considering of households in homes around the globe. And so with that, it is my pleasure to show it over to Vanessa and JR Ford, the first mother and father who might be sharing their studies with us. Excellent morning every person. I am used to being on this facet. That is her just right aspect. That’s my excellent part. My identify is Vanessa Ford.And i am a resident here in Washington, DC, with my husband JR Ford and our two special youngsters. We have now a seven year historic son, Ronnie, our first born. And we now have a 5 and a half daughter, Ellie. And Ellie is who brings us right here at present to inform our story. And i am not the crier of this couple. And Mike’s already gotten to me. And i feel what I wish to share is my section in this story after which turn it over to my husband, who’s so effective at sharing his section. So our daughter Ellie is simplest five and a half. I acquired her out of the house this morning with her brother, it used to be no longer convenient. They have been grumpy. So she is, like every other little kindergartener and my son is like every different little first grader.When Ellie was once born, we had been the Fords with tons of buddies. I was a instructor in DC for 14 years and our youngsters had been only 17 months aside. So we have been consistently referred to as the Fords with the two little boys. Are they twins? Are they twins? Are they twins? No. And round age two, Ellie would tantrum getting dressed every morning and we thought might be she has a sensory sickness. We’re no longer certain. So we started placing her in what we now see as pretty gender neutral garments. Three, she would costume up in clothes and we suggestion we have been so innovative letting our son put on dresses all over that we notion on the time he would go. And we’d also detect that we had a very taciturn child, who would no longer go near individuals, would disguise at the back of their arms, would not hug or speak with folks. And when our baby at that time would placed on those costume up garments, we’d say to one another, man, we can can never take that off.We have a child who’s so much less difficult with these clothes on. And so that went on for about a 12 months. And round her fourth birthday, we had an Elsa– thank God for Frozen. I imply, frozen relatively introduced her out. An Elsa birthday celebration. An Elsa and Lightning McQueen birthday celebration. And our little one– it coincided with our condo warming. So we had about a hundred folks in our house. We know plenty of persons here in DC. And we had this beautiful Elsa cake. And our child was once in this Elsa nightgown with a tiara and Lightning McQueen slippers.And after this lengthy day of a lot love and party, we were going up the steps and i know exactly the place I was. And that i mentioned, you’re my favorite princess boy. And he or she stopped and she or he looked me straight in the eyes and stated mom, i am not a boy. I am a lady in my coronary heart and my brain. And i mentioned, let’s go brush your tooth. Goodnight, it’s time for mattress. And that began our journey. And instantly, we got here into this journey with resources. Our little one is younger and there are enormous quantities of families who’ve come earlier than us. And so after we reached out, we acquired to the people you are going to hear from today. They began this for us. And that i struggled. My husband did not. And i continually love listening to from him what our child way to him and how he’s grown and what it is supposed to us to have our beautiful little one in our lives. So i’m going to let JR converse about our youngsters. Thanks. So as Mike and Vanessa had been speakme, I was once desirous about like what are some excellent adjectives to support describe Ellie and our kids and our household and our neighborhood.And the very first thing that came to me used to be braveness. Bravery. Realizing that we’ve got a community in the market who is supportive. And Ellie taught me plenty of things during the last year and a half of about myself. About how much I would love. I proposal that there used to be a threshold in my love for our youngsters and our family, however she eventually showed me that my love is exponential. It’s unconditional. It is about treating a person equally and rather in spite of the place they come from, who they are. And so in the last year, she also taught me about self-care, for the reason that of her being able to tell us about who she is, that took an giant amount of bravery for a four 12 months old. And i’m a 30 whatever, liberal dad.I am in my late 30s. I’m not ancient. However she taught me about feeling my feelings. Being on this main issue. Being present. And practically being your self. Just being who you might be. And i know that all of us come from distinct backgrounds and exclusive environments. However at the finish of the day, we’re all human beings and if Ellie can also be the beacon in our family to make us tighter and to help uplift us to be a voice to those who should not have a voice, then that is what we want. We’d like more families. We need an multiplied degree of urgency now that things are opening to change politically. We need extra households, a tighter community, in order that we will continue to furnish voices to those who are not able to. So in conclusion, I think that between Vanessa and that i, we wish to be that beacon for families who shouldn’t have a voice, who do not need to be the voice. We want to support to provide a riskless environment for individuals who do not need it.And we’re very lucky. We reside right here in Washington DC. Now we have every help community possible, including insurance policies and laws that protect our baby. She is just not going to suppose this. But Jay and i, last Wednesday morning, aroused from sleep and we knew our bubble was once gone. Considering the fact that she’s riskless now. But the ramifications of what occurred last week put that at chance. And so our narrative the final year, when you’ve noticeable it, we now have been very public– our narrative has been, you can do this. Seem, you don’t lose everything.Every body comes together. Our marriage is more desirable, our children are happier, we have had all the aid. And so i know there are humans available in the market observing right now who’re pushing that like indignant button on facebook are living and i implore to you to consider concerning the children to your existence. I implore to you to assume that what we’re pronouncing is your baby and take your button finger off and start to study whatever. For the reason that we’d like you to keep our child trustworthy and alive. And we’re now not giving up, so we’re available in the market. We’re coming. So thanks for having us. Well, i am now not certain who’s the emotional one or no longer there, however i’m going to agree with you. I particularly can speak about this with out getting emotional. And in some respects, I’ve stopped attempting. Since that is emotional. It should be. But let me say first that i am so humbled to be right here among such powerful, robust advocates for our children all over.For our LGBT group, and particularly for our transgender and gender expansive group. The time couldn’t be better for the Human Rights campaign to deliver collectively this diverse crew of families to inform the reality about our kids. My spouse Sarah and that i will be the first to inform you that we aren’t born advocates. Correctly, i am ashamed that it has taken me this lengthy to return out and aid strongly this neighborhood. For us, it took having a transgender kid to quite open our eyes. And that’s a message I want to send to persons is that I have an understanding of should you do not need a transgender child, this may be very rough to wrap your head around. I desire I could provide you with my kid and repeatedly, for per week or two, so that you just would get to grasp him.Because i am convinced that if people might get to understand a transgender child and their loved ones, the fears, the insecurities they’ve about whether or not their kids will be harmed via giving these children rights, by enabling them to use bathrooms they determine with, by sharing groups with them, through going to university with them, via working with them, they would go away. And i’m convinced that they are going to open their hearts and minds. I am convinced of this. Let me let you know a bit bit about how our story started out although. At round two years historical, our son, Jack Kai, instructed us that, i’m a boy. And regularly, this would not quite be an trouble, except that we had named him Jacqueline and assigned him female at birth.So we went by way of the process that so many 1000’s of others have, millions. As we tried to persuade ourselves that we had a relatively strong tom boy and we went by means of all the just right things that folks do to try to exhibit him that what, you can be a woman and do something a boy can do. So we go in displaying pics of feminine astronauts and firemen and policemen and we are saying, see, you can do all these things. And he mentioned, that’s actual. I’m a boy. So we went via everything that individuals go by means of. The garments which failed to believe proper to the hair, which was too long for a boy. The names that weren’t proper for a boy. But what I can’t emphasize sufficient can be the physique that didn’t belong to a boy. That is while you appreciate this is not a segment. This is not some small choice. And that i shouldn’t have the words to explain how a lot despair our son was in for the duration of this time. During this time of studying. On the grounds that like many others, we failed to understand a lot about transgender youngsters.So we realized. We went to professionals. We read everything we would. It wasn’t best fabric out there. However we saw it. And we saw that if we didn’t admire our son’s identity, it used to be going to be a topic of lifestyles and loss of life. It was once not a option. It’s not ever a option for these kids. It is not ever a option for anyone within the LGBTQ group. We’ve got seen this fact. And what I tell individuals is now that I’ve obvious the reality, I are not able to unsee it.Now that i have realized to look the arena by means of my transgender son’s eyes, I cannot unlearn that. And so we tell our story. Well, our son entered kindergarten as a boy. And soon as we started respecting his desires for boy pronouns, it was once like a gentle change. The despair, the anguish, the horrible mornings of looking to get him out the door to preschool, all of it went away. Now, I realise that would possibly not happen in each case, but it happens in quite a lot of instances. All of the OCD and sensory form problems that we suggestion had been manifesting themselves, they went away.Our son is eight years historical now and he’s very comfortable. And we fully grasp that we are very, very lucky our university is incredibly supportive prime to bottom. We are saying we’ve super heroes like our major, Craig McCullough, who after we first got here to him and stated we’ve got a transgender son, he failed to particularly understand what it meant both. But when he learned, he stated, this is probably not a difficulty. This is probably not a trouble. When you consider that my job is to make a nontoxic and inclusive environment for every youngster. His sisters, Sidney and Jessie, are loved ones. Now we have been lucky again. They’ve all been supportive. My niece here at present.We are not able to thank them adequate. However now not every youngster has that aid. That’s why we ought to show. And i will say this. Our eyes had been opened up far more then to the wants of the transgender and LGBTQ neighborhood. And that is what i might like to tell humans. You do not have a transgender kid, perhaps you shouldn’t have a marginalized youngster in any respect. It will be difficult for me to hire out Jack as a way to get that have. Though I recall it from time to time. But i am asking you anyway to open up your hearts and minds, despite the fact that i do not relatively have a right to do that. I had the advantage of having a transgender child. You do not. But i’ll ask this anyway.On the grounds that i want you to be higher than me. I need you to be more empathetic than I was. And i’ll provide you with a gift for doing that. It’s a present of joy. Considering the fact that should you do that, you’ll find pleasure greater than something you have got ever skilled on your lifestyles. Now, you’re going to find discomfort, too. Customarily more soreness than you have skilled in your life. Given that you are going to see the arena through these youngsters’ eyes. But I ask that you take this on on account that your lives will take on new that means. I am so grateful to the Human Rights campaign and to each person here and all those at residence who’ve been so supportive. That is why i’m optimistic. I do know no matter what the administration, no matter what the end result of this election, our mission has now not transformed.We are fighting for equality. We consistently will. We’re fighting for these kids who should not have a voice. For all those children available in the market who i do know are listening, who all have a dream. Don’t despair. We will now not stop combating for you. And it is going to get better. Thank you a lot. Hi everybody. Good morning. My name is Joan Lee. I am a mom of two children. I was once a born and and raised with a Christian upbringing in Korea. Korean tradition could be very conservative, binary, and straight, like other Asian countries. We do not talk about LGBT. It used to be taboo to speak about it. My kids have been born as female biologically. My first baby came out as transgender in June of 2014, proper after high tuition graduation. My second baby, Skyler, came out as a transgender, and queer two months later. I was once in shock and failed to take delivery of them as my transgender sons. I made growth. But it was too sluggish. I had an never-ending amount of affection for my son however I did not speak up or arise for him. I did not see his heart. I simply keen on his gender identity and sexual orientation.So I misplaced the hazard to love and aid him. September 28, 2015, it was heart broken. Saddest day and turning point of my life. Considering that Skyler took his possess existence from despair. He was once sixteen years ancient and feels racial and LGBTQ justice activist. Skyler wrote an editorial the way to dismantle university to jail pipeline in power in partnership. It’s a resource for why racial justice and LGBTQ justice ought to be part of the same dialog to be real successful. Skyler wrote, we are not able to separate the dialog between racial justice and LGBT justice when our oppression and liberation are interconnected with a different. It was published simply earlier than his dying and totally praised. But I did not be aware of his e-newsletter and his movements. I was once no longer worried with my son’s lifestyles. I didn’t realise his immeasurable anguish and depression as a transgender. Now, LGBTQ is aware of intersectionality. Also, Black Lives issues starts to support LGBTQ neighborhood. LGBTQ justice has Black Lives subject. And Black Lives topic is LGBTQ justice. Earlier than, I failed to appreciate what it is wish to be a transgender. And disorders they’ve. Ultimately, I understood it.Nevertheless it induced my youngster’s existence. From Skyler, I realized how household acceptance and love is important. It’s the most effective solution to save the lives of transgender. So I promised myself, Skyler’s existence method something. And retailer the lives of transgender on his funeral day. Skyler’s life was once gorgeous. He impacted the so many lives and modified the lives of so many. Transgender lifestyles is wonderful and cherished for, now not most effective when they are dead. I’m a nurse, however nothing ready me for this tragedy. My heart is broken. I’m grieving the loss of my youngster, who will consistently be sixteen years ancient. I prefer to help the public to realize that transgender children are not by means of alternatives, however born with it. To need a better future for youngsters.Equal possibility, dignity, safer atmosphere, freedom, and equality for his or her youngsters. We’ve got one intention. Why are we so separated and struggling? We need to unify and find a factor in spite of religion, race, dermis color, gender identification, and sexual orientation. People have a proper for voicing who they are and identifying happiness. We need to supply them this equal opportunity. Please become a member of me to fight against oppression of LGBTQ children. Please give them opportunity to are living, fulfill their ambitions, and save humans, and contribute to this country. Make them proud to be citizens of the united states, like other children and humans. I am touched through Skyler’s words. It isn’t justice if we leave at the back of participants of our group. It is not justice if we ignore carried out oppression of individuals who share neighborhood with. Thanks. Good morning. May I simply say our Zeam knew Skyler and cherished Skyler. So i suppose it is proper that we follow you in these days.I am Ea MacMillan Porter, and that is my husband, Dr. Lewis Porter. And we are the proud, well typically– proud mom and dad of a transgendered young man or woman. Younger man. Who is a university freshman and a social activist named Zeam Porter. Zeam, I don’t know when Zeam without a doubt knew that he was once transgendered. He labored by means of quite a few matters after which shared with us that he relatively felt that he was male. A few months later, Zeam ended up sharing it with the world.I am not sure we had been competent, really equipped for that. Three years in the past, Zeam was once requested to testify in Minnesota. We are living in Minneapolis. For the Minnesota excessive school athletic league to testify for transgendered adolescence who wanted to play within the game, on the group that met their gender identification. I was once on the street, on the grounds that i’m a recruiter for a school. And that i get a call in South Dakota that our child’s going to be on the 5 o’clock information. And that i mentioned good enough, so I watched it. And then I spoke to Lewis and Zeam at house, and they shared with me that MSNBC had wanted to do a far off transmission the next morning. And it used to be going to go nationwide. And i don’t forget being afraid for my youngster. And i told him, I said, honey, you don’t have got to do this.And Zeam mentioned, mom, I keep in mind ever considering that i will consider, growing up listening to about papa, my father, who was a profession military man. And all of the work that Papa did to make certain there used to be equality within the navy. And all the areas that you just guys lived. I went to 5 extraordinary high schools. The entire areas that you simply lived the place my nana, my mother, was once doing race members of the family work. He stated, mother, you’re a range coach. And so is daddy. That is what we do. Good enough, little one. This is what we do. And Zeam additionally was asked to be on our governor’s anti-bullying mission force for 2 years, together with one other scholar who was a 12 months older, an eleven-year-ancient. And that took location quickly after Zeam used to be on television. And that i used to be nervous on the quantity of hate mail that came to those youngsters. What form of grown up sends hate mail to an eleven-12 months-historical? And that was once very, very horrifying for me.But I ought to say rapidly afterwards, we also bought in a variety of support. Zeam’s university stepped up correct away. I bought to offer a shout out to the mother squad and the atypical squad who just tell us proper away that they had been in our nook and it wasn’t all ugliness that used to be going to be put toward our household. One of the vital things that happened was I used to be very harm by means of the few men and women who were not accepting and were very judgemental and had plenty of poor matters to claim. However then i realized that there used to be about two or three individuals in our circle and that rankings of alternative men and women had been supportive and loving and attempting quite hard to realise, together with and primarily the elders.And you probably have southern elders, and know about southern black elders, for them to appreciate was once rather coming a ways. So that made us fairly comfortable. I am more influenced through the optimistic. I will never overlook when Zeam first came out as queer to me, before Zeam got here out as trans. And we have been in the auto and Zeam shared this with me. And i wasn’t able for it, however I at all times knew that Zeam would throw some curveballs. I’ve written about that. And so i am grateful that the first thing that came out of my mouth was very foolish and shallow. As I stated, i’m from the south. I mentioned well, i ponder if they may nonetheless assist you to be a debutante. And Zeam goes, dad, that’s particularly shallow. We had a excellent snigger off that. And then, the following thing that got here out of my mouth used to be quoting a Sade’s song. Your daddy’s love comes with a lifetime warranty.And that was the predominant factor. And that has stood forth and introduced us a mighty great distance. I know that presently, we have now so much to be discouraged about, however i’m influenced. In view that I simply attended the going through race conference and that i noticed men and women standing up for gender equality, LGBTQ equality, racial equality, immigrant equality. And i noticed a solidarity there that i have now not noticeable earlier than. So I think that one of the activities, recent events, have only served to make us superior. I just want to say that it is such an honor to be Zeam’s dad. And individuals sometimes say that Ea and that i, oh, you all are such excellent parents. And i say, good, we simply guardian.What else can a mum or dad do however love and defend and rise up for his or her little one? Thank you. Hello each person. My identify is Deshana Neal. I’m from Delaware. And that is it. I’ve four kids. And i have been with my husband for particularly a very long time. And our first born, Trinity is a transgender woman. However many would not know is that she transitioned when she used to be four years historical back in 2007. And she is now thirteen. Being on this trip for almost a decade has changed us as a household in a technique that i don’t consider many households who do not have transgender children would ever suppose. When you ever wish to be aware of what it truly manner to be humble and reputable, meet my Trinity. There were no books or web pages or something again in 2007 to guide us and we faced some professionals telling us my little one used to be the way she was once considering the fact that I was once a keep at dwelling mother and considering my husband used to be no longer man enough. And it was once rough. And yet it took one gender therapist who had on no account worked with a youngster.Trinity was her first. Who instructed us we needed to make a selection. A comfortable little girl or a dead little boy. And also you appear at a 3 and a half of year historical, you can’t imagine that that could in all likelihood happen. But it will possibly. And so we went and bought a My Little Pony costume. And we additionally purchased a car for the opposite child, considering heaven forbid, we do not get anything else. And i will by no means omit the day she got here out in that gown. And i noticed my youngster who I thought I misplaced.And here we are virtually 10 years later, having long past by way of losing loved ones for a yr and a half before they ultimately noticed her, too. Whilst you see her, i’m telling you, she is going to carry you round. Having me give up jobs to house institution and happening to at least one sales and going under the poverty level for our children, for her. And now, recently, as her body used to be about to vary and her anxiousness, we fought so tough to preserve away coming again. Seeing that she notion she was once going to grow a beard like daddy. And realizing, I needed to battle Medicaid to support my baby. And the primary time I referred to as them after she was denied for puberty blockers, the very first thing that came out of their mouth when they heard my name, like, oh by the way, we don’t serve transgender kids. And that i stated, get on board, due to the fact that you’re going to. And for eight months, I fought.I linked with Sarah McBride. And i might now not stop. And that i went from mama undergo to as my daughter puts it, a mama hyena. And after eight months, with quality help, my daughter grew to be the first minor baby to be covered via Medicaid for puberty blockers. And that i continue to battle. In view that i am doing that to aid her and other youngsters. I used to be then to obtain a social employee at my residence two occasions a 12 months. To make sure she was once psychologically adequate. And that really angered me. Considering there is nothing in this world that might make me hurt my youngsters. Their happiness is my lifestyles. And for moms and dads in the market who are scared from these results, i am with you. Who are using this worry to very likely halt your little one’s authenticity, I want to share with you a dream my daughter had just lately. And that informed me irrespective of who tried to discontinue us from listening to her and who tries to discontinue her now, invariably be there.Due to the fact that you do not understand how much of a hero you’re. She had a nightmare that she was being chased with the aid of monsters in a metropolis and she or he used to be by myself. She failed to understand where to turn. She used to be scared. And she or he was surrounded. After which they acquired scared. And the monsters ran away and he or she didn’t know why unless she became and she noticed me protecting out my hand. And i scared them away. And that i informed her, Trinity, what have I at all times taught you? To be brave. Seeing that i will invariably advisor you residence. You don’t ought to be scared. Nothing’s going to get by means of me. And that i did, I consultant her dwelling. And when you have questions for the reason that you’re scared as a guardian, what do I do? I’ve been down this avenue for just about 10 years. I’ll guide you house, too, so which you could be there on your baby and battle the individuals who may want to take their rights away. Don’t allow them to. Go from being a mama, a papa undergo, to being a mama and a papa hyena. I will be able to guarantee you, they’re frightening. And my ultimate suggestion on that is– I didn’t have this neighborhood. I needed to pay attention with my coronary heart. I’m so grateful I do now. Given that i do know she is going to come to be this gorgeous young woman who is not going to have got to fear, for the reason that if something was once to occur to me, she is going to normally be protected and i’m real grateful. So thanks. Good day. I’m Debbie Jackson and i suppose i’m the final dad or mum to speak today. And i did not come with all set words, seeing that I knew that once I began taking note of all of those different father and mother, that the whole thing that was once re written would thoroughly exit the window. Seeing that i am so touched and moved and relate to every this kind of reviews.And that i promised I wasn’t going to cry. And that i did not stroll up here with tissue and i am already getting to the factor where i’m going to cry, however i am going to take a look at to get by means of. I come here from Kansas metropolis, Missouri. And just to present a bit geography lesson considering that this throws persons off, sure, Kansas metropolis, Missouri. But we’re proper on the state line of Kansas. After I power out of my local, I power into Kansas. So I get to care for conservative, regularly relatively anti LGBT legislative suggestions in two states, not only one. And then we also have the country wide hindrance that brings us together. And the HRC does the powerful work right here in Washington DC on all of our behalves across the country. The rationale that I did not want to come with ready phrases is due to the fact I knew that i’d relate to each of the mother and father’ reports.Hearing Ellie say, i am a girl in my coronary heart and intellect, for the reason that my daughter told me that after she used to be four. Hearing Peter say that they didn’t intend to come to be advocates and that it used to be an accident can also be part of our story, due to the fact we in no way expected to be talking like this due to the fact we have been afraid. My loved ones could be very conservative, has been lifelong Republicans, we’re Southern Baptists. I hail from Alabama. We’re not rather recognized for being probably the most innovative and LGBT supportive communities.And when my daughter began showing some gender nonconformity, seeing that we have been residing in Kansas city, we had some pretty progressive pals. And they idea that we have been strong mom and dad by way of letting a boy put on red footwear and a scarf with glitter on it. But when she made it clear to us that it wasn’t just about having slightly gender non-conforming expression in her option of clothes, that the identity, who she is, who she is in her heart and intellect is a bit woman, suddenly, the persons who thought that we have been so brave and mighty younger revolutionary didn’t particularly comprehend what to do with us. We misplaced our acquaintances. We commonly broke ties with our family. And for the next yr or so, we have been entirely by myself. And in the 5 years that it’s been considering the fact that she socially transitioned, we’ve had a brand new amazing group of individuals around us. We have an potent chosen loved ones and we’ve some mighty neighbors who are aiding us right now. My husband, who is amazingly supportive, even though he is now not in general within the media, so folks consistently question that he’s, as an additional mother or father mentioned too, for him, it was once a subject of getting a residing, pleased, healthful daughter as an alternative than a lifeless son. When Avery was once 4, she did try to kill herself. We have been riding down the freeway and she or he unbuckled her vehicle seat harness. And my son, fortunately, was once next to her and began yelling at me mother, mom, Avery’s seeking to die. Considering the fact that she had unbuckled and was once pulling on the auto door control. And figuring out what that felt like, that 4 yr ancient was once that desperate to be affirmed, must provide you with an indication that that is some thing that is so internal and it can be so pure and it cannot be denied that we do not need a proper as a parent or as a society to impose our own views of gender onto any person.People understand who they are. They need to be acknowledged and validated and supported. I’ve so many stories going via my intellect from all of these other dad and mom and sharing the similarities in all of the feelings correct now that i will be able to infrequently even come up with words to only say that i’m honored and amazed to be in the room with them. They all spoke so eloquently. And i believe that’s what strikes me about this council and what HRC is doing the most. We have began to make some amends with our household. They started to consult Avery with the correct pronouns and the whole lot was going rather good unless this final summer time, when all the expenses about rest room entry began coming up.And the entire rhetoric began arising. And when they came back and stated, good, you recognize, I style of accept as true with that. I don’t want the guys in dresses in the lavatories. And it can be particularly simply gone downhill ever since. So our household is feeling damaged and damage as soon as again. We felt so remoted that until we began publicly talking a few years in the past in our own community, we had now not met any other transgender children. And we have now the pioneers right here, the humans who are aiding their kids. Back when there was once no Google, seeing that Google saved me. Since it introduced the few resources that had been online available to us 5 years in the past. But Deshana and i had been speakme. Trinity transitioned in 2007 and that’s the yr Avery was born.I can not imagine the force that it took for her to aid Trinity the best way that she did. And the entire parents that are in this room with me are my suggestion they usually’re my rock. Due to the fact i know that we aren’t on my own. I do know that the visibility is what’s making a change for us to preserve going. But also for all of these different households in the market and all these different kids out there who see our visibility they usually attain out, knowing that they’re not alone. To all the people who’re in the market watching in these days and listening, the one factor that i want you to note is the variety that is right here. We’ve got all constituents of the country. We’ve all devout backgrounds, we have now epidermis colour, ethnicity, nationality, liberal to conservative ideologies represented. And to any one who still has doubts about supporting the LGBTQ community and the trans group certainly, please realize our kids are your classmates and your children’ pals. They’re your kids teammates on soccer.They perhaps in your woman Scout or Boy Scout troop. We, the households, are your neighbors. We’re your coworkers. We’re doing our shopping right subsequent to you. We will the equal bank. We are trick or treating with our kids just like you are. We’re seeking to get them to take a bath and without a doubt use soap once they do it. We’re sitting subsequent to you in houses of worship. And we’re trying you to no longer reject us and to do what all devout standards say to do, which is to like one one more. And that i thank each person for being here together and showing us that love. And that i wish to remind the humans who have been elected into place of job that we’re additionally your ingredients. And our children are your materials. We now have been fighting for a long time to have the equality and the protections that we have now. Don’t take them away. Please aid us guaranteeing that our youngsters have the equal rights as every person else, thanks all a lot for sharing your reviews, for speakme from a place of such vulnerability and authenticity.I know you could have touched so many folks here and gazing online. And there’s a lot more work to do. So let’s roll up our sleeves, let’s get in a position, and let’s proceed this fight. Thank you occupied with popping out. .