#one kid who has anger issues punched another

[anotherpapercut]

my throat fucking hurts from yelling at my coworker today bc he wouldn't stop acting like the elementary schoolers

[classypauli]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬

chapter 1

pairing: tara carpenter x fem!Reader

summary: Your and Tara’s “friendship” keeps going and unexpected pairing in school project gets you more closer than you both need.

tags: enemies to lovers, slow burn, alcohol, party, curse words, mistakes

word count: 2.5k

You don’t like a lot of things, like early mornings, school, tomato soup, and slow people on stairs. But the thing you hate the most is the alarm clock. You are sure that you already have PTSD from it because everytime you hear it, your body wants to shut down. Like right now.

You whined as your ears were met with the most annoying sound on earth. After turning it off you turned your face deep into the pillow. For a couple of minutes, it stopped but you knew it would soon come back.

With a groan, your legs fell onto the cold floor. You don´t have many lessons today, just one but you still couldn´t convince your body to wake up.

Slowly doing your morning routine, grabbing things you need for your lesson and you left. As you were locking your apartment´s door you saw Tara by the elevator. Quickly putting your keys into the pocket of your jeans you started to make your way to her direction.

Every morning you and her were practically overruning to the elevator, making the other one behind to wait.

Your flats are high and the elevator is unfortunately just one. The only way to go down would be to go down the endless stairs or to swallow your dislike towards the Carpenter and go with her. And that´s exactly what you were going to do.

Sadly Tara saw you, and as you were halfway toward her the elevator door suddenly opened. This was her chance, her chance to pay back you from yesterday.

The next thing you saw was Tara quickly going to the elevator and sending you her most annoying grin you have ever seen through the elevator doors that were slowly closing right between your face.

You ran as fast as you could but your body was met with the tough metal doors. And the next thing you could hear was Tara´s echoing laugh.

„That little-“You let out a groan as you punched the closed elevator door.

Forget about the things that were said in the beginning, the thing you most hated was Tara Carpenter.

-

„Hey Y/N! Why so late?“

Chad asked you with a curious face. Everyone was now sitting by the cafeteria in your university. Every morning you would meet there and start your day together, then split up for lessons if you didn´t have them together.

Your eyes shot to the Carpenter who was sitting by the end of the table, far from you. She was smirking to herself, trying to hide her laugh. You knew and she knew too.

„Nothing serious Chad, just some morning issues.“ You let out as you sat opposite Chad. His twin sister looked trying to figure out the cause of it but as soon as your eyes met Tara´s she understood.

It bothers Mindy, she wants all of her close ones to get along. How come you can´t just bury the war axe and at least accept the presence of one another? If not for you then for your friends.

Mindy can´t imagine the situation of having to choose between the two of you. She doesn´t even want to think about it, the thought of splitting your group into two camps.

You have all been friends since the first years of school. You would share all your classes and after school, you came to each other's houses and played till your parents called. As you got older your hobbies and behavior changed but your friendship stayed the same. Only there was a little problem, you two.

The thing is, despite you both hate each other you are almost the same. Tara has a short temper and you have anger issues. Just a small tinke from you or her and the volcanic eruption is born.

So Mindy took the role of the mother of her two stubborn kids.

-

Days went by and everything was the same. You were feeling like a mummy this past week because of the schoolwork. You were working your ass off because of the finals and wanting to do as great as you could you needed to pay with your sleep.

Right now you are in civics class. You don´t hate it but you don´t like it either. It is somewhere in the middle. You took this class partly because your friends were there but also because it wasn´t so hard. Yeah you are an idiot. But hand on your heart, who has never done that?

Unfortunately one of the things the students needed to do to pass the class besides the final exam was a group project.

You didn´t like this kind of stuff, especially with someone you barely know but thank God this won’t be your case.

Sitting in a chair one hand was supporting your head and the other was playing with a pen in your hand, spinning it around. You were sitting alone in the back of the class. Mindy diagonally to your left with Chad beside her. Tara was diagonally on your right sitting also alone.

„And for the upcoming project, you will be making groups of two people. Each group will have a different topic and it will be up to you how you will elaborate on it and how you will split your work. The next thing-“

You moved your eyes to Mindy but her back was towards you. The girl was talking to her brother who was nodding at something she was saying. She wouldn´t do this to you, right? Mindy was your partner, your friend, and your only hope for this class.

The class bell rang and with that, you stood up and made your way to her. „Will you pair with me on this project?“ you asked, almost sure that she would say yes.

„Sorry Y/N I´m already with Chad.“ You kept looking at her with open eyes. Did your best friend just betray you? „But you can be with Tara.“

The both of you turned to the spot that was occupied by the brunette and your gazes met.

No no no no no.

-

Looking up at your roof with a softball in your hand, not paying attention to what going on but also praying it will end as soon as possible. You were currently lying on your back in your bed while throwing the ball against the ceiling.

Your teacher gave you not much time on your project despite how large it needs to be. Unfortunately, there was no other way other than to do it fast. For the sake of both.

„Human rights are fundamental rights and freedoms that all individuals are entitled to regardless of their nationality, ethnicity, religion, gender, or other factors. They are inherent to all human beings and-“ Tara stopped. „I won´t do this all just by myself.“ She said without turning her head toward you.

Since she came to your apartment you were just quiet, keeping yourself on a leash. Tara was sitting on the ground of your room with the books and notebook around her. You refused to let her use your game computer or your chair, not trusting her with it which she called you crazy.

„You know if you keep doing this it will take much longer.“

You sighed and sat up. You were pretty calm today, Tara was almost enjoying it, only almost. You took one of her books and started to look for something useful to put into your project.

Tara shook her head at your behavior and continued. „An individual rights end where the other individual rights begin-“

„Something you infringed a long time ago.“ You muttered under your breath, reacting to her words. The short girl took a deep breath in and out.

Dick.

„It can be affected in a way of violence or abuse, meaning of physical, emotional, psychological abuse-“

„Damn, they should lock you up.“ Again you let out softly barely noticeable.

„Can you shut up?!“

„You wanted me to help!“

„But not with being an absolute ass!“

You stood up from your bed and pointed your finger at her. „Listen here, little lady.“

„Oh yeah? Come on tell me.“ She stood up from the ground and made her way toward you. Your angry faces were just centimeters from one another and your hands were formed into fists. Her big brown eyes were staring right into yours with rage. How badly you just wanted to-

You were cut off by the doorbell of your apartment. Both of your faces turned from the way the sound came to each other again with a confused look. Tara pushed you by your shoulders.

„Go! It´s your house!“ she whispered yelling at you.

As you opened the door you were met with the faces of your friends. They wanted to laugh at how weird and at the same time cute it looked, how Tara was right behind you, trying to see who the new intruder was.

„What are you guys doing here?“ you asked inquisitive. Not like you didn´t want them here but it was unexpected.

„Ha! Look at them! They don´t even want us here!“ Chad laughed. „Were you two in the middle of something?“ he asked as he kept raising his eyebrows up and down.

You and Tara looked horrified at the thought of something similar. „What?!“ „No!“

„I didn´t even say what I meant!“

Mindy shook her head and punched her brother in the back of his head before coming into your apartment with the rest of the group. She had a feeling that your meeting about the school project wouldn´t end up like she wanted it to. That’s why she called Chad and Anika to your flat to hang out.

-

A couple of days now passed by and your focus on study was growing every day. It was not like you were good at it, you didn´t like studying but also you enjoyed learning about new topics that were interesting to you.

Your father called you, asking how you were. You plan to see him in some close time. You missed him. Since started university, he was left almost alone in your hometown. It was not like he was complaining about it, or at least he didn´t say anything about it, but you knew him.

The thought of visiting him unexpectedly made you excited and at least that was something that made you look for something. Not thinking about school only.

Your friendship with Tara was also changing, without your notice. You didn´t argue like you used to. Yeah, still there are times when you two jump into each other's hair, like every day, but not so often.

It´s like an unspoken task that has to be fulfilled. The day wouldn´t be complete if you didn´t fight at least once a day.

The only people that noticed the little changes were your friends. It was really fun for them. When Mindy told everyone about you they couldn´t believe it. So they started to observe and yeah, she was right.

There was still some bickering between you two but it just has to be there. That wouldn´t be you.

Right now you were standing at someone´s party. Your back towards the wall, cup in your hand just looking around the people in the room. You weren’t that much drunk, almost sober. Your friends were somewhere scattered around.

You came together but as the alcohol was coming down the throat more and more they went everyone on their own. You didn´t feel like babysitting your friends today.

The house also wasn´t that big, there were people from your university and they were adults so it wasn´t like something would happen to them.

You were talking with one of your friends from the class, Ethan. He was a good guy, he grew close to your heart.

Then you catch Chad lying on the couch with his drink in hand and something across his face. You squinted your eyes at him and started to come a little closer and as soon as you were beside him you broke into a fit of laughter.

„Oh my God Chad.“ You laughed at your friend who had barely opened their eyes. He saw you and smiled wide at you.

„Y/N! I´m so glad I see you.“

He had some signs drawn with markers across his face. He had big circles around his eyes like glasses and mustache. On his forehead was written, “Even a little wizard can do big magic“.

„How do you feel buddy?“ you tapped his shoulder as you were looking at him with a smile across your face. He was hilarious.

„I feel super great Y/N, will you drink with me?“ he asked as he sat up on a couch and was now trying to get some bottle of alcohol from the table.

„Nah I don´t think-“ You wanted to decline his offer but he cut you off.

„Please, just one.“ He gave you big puppy eyes and you sighed. Chad was one of the guys that when they were drunk they weren´t aggressive but affectionate. How could you say no to him?

After your shot with Chad, you saw Mindy coming to her brother to take him home. She didn´t forget to laugh at his face as she saw him.

In a moment you also saw Tara chatting with some guy. She was smiling up at him as he was flirting with her. You suddenly felt goosebumps running down your spine, you shook your body at the disgusting sigh.

You didn´t care about who was Tara with, it was her life and her body. She could do whatever she wanted. It just made you disgusted in some way. Maybe because she was in your friend group? You didn´t know.

You threw your cup into the trash can and left the party.

-

Tara was walking to her home. When she didn´t see anywhere her friends and was starting to get bored she also started to make her way home. The girl saw what state Chad was and she knew he wouldn´t be able to go home by himself. So that was minus Chad and Mindy with Anika. You were also there but she barely saw you so she figured you went also home.

As she was getting close to her apartment she was trying to find the key.

No. Please no.

She doesn´t have them. The brunette must forget them inside. When Tara was leaving her house Sam was still home getting ready for work, she closed the door behind her.

Tara breathed out the air from the lungs and slid down the door. Sam will surely kill her when she finds out. But what now? She can´t just sleep in a hallway. Maybe she could try to go in by the window-

Of course not, she isn´t in a movie and their apartment is high. That would be dangerous.

Her eyes fell on the apartment´s door beside her. She hated the idea, it would crush her ego and everything inside of her. Tara was already really embarrassed by the situation she put herself into. It couldn´t be worse, right?

With heavy steps and heart, she was making her way toward your door. She knocked a couple of times, it was late so it was a big possibility you were sleeping already.

Just when she wanted to go back to her door you opened it. Your hair was a bit messy and you were wearing a big white shirt with some pants. Big sleepy eyes of yours were staring at her, processing what was happening.

Tara´s words were stuck in her throat. Like she was caught doing something that was forbidden.

„Hey- I forgot my keys and- I just wanted to ask-“

The girl sighed, she didn´t know what to say. She already regretted her decision to knock on your door. This was so embarrassing.

„If you could sleep over.“ You ended her sentence with crossed arms across your chest.

Despite how you and Tara act towards each other you would never let her sleep somewhere. Maybe also because you appreciate Sam and you know how Sam loves and adores her little sister.

„Come in.“ You opened your door wider for her to come. Tara couldn´t believe you. Really? Just like that without any comebacks and mocking words? Maybe you were too sleepy for that.

You made your way to your room brought a pillow and blanked with some of your clothes that are already small on you. You threw it on a couch and gave the clothes to Tara. „Here, you can change into this.“ Was this even you?

„And you will sleep on a couch. Don’t bother me.“

Yes, it was you.

[storm-angel989]

hallo!!!

i was wondering if you could do a Val x daughter reader

reader is neurodivergent and has a stutter :,> basically reader goes to auntie Vel first about how they’re being bullied at school and then Vel brings it up to Uncle Vox and Val.

i hope your having a nice day!

The editing continues! Enjoy <3 I apologize for the wait and appreciate your patience!

“What the fuck do you mean, being bullied?” Valentino demanded as he took a drag from his cigarette. Confusion and disgust flooded his features. “She’s in first grade, how do they even know how to be mean at that age?” 

Velvette shrugged and took a sip of her wine as they sat around the restaurant table. 

Another Tuesday night, another meeting of the minds. This was the one night a week Valentino’s daughter, reader,  stayed late for both art and speech therapy. Usually it involved logistics planning- who would pick her up, help her with homework, where she was supposed to be each day after school. They had learned early on that early planning and visual schedules helped her manage and practice her day to day routines and activities. This time each week was critical not only for themselves, but to help reader manage her anxieties. 

Tonight though, their meeting meant something far more sinister. 

“She came to me in tears the other day. Sobbing about how kids are being mean to her because she ‘talked funny’. I told her to ignore them and tell the teacher, but she told me one of them hit her. And that the teacher did nothing. That alone is worth the school.” 

“The school is fucking useless. What do we do about it?” Valentino demanded asked as he bit back the anger in his voice. “Surely there must be something we can do.”

“Like what? Walk up to first graders and bully them back?” Velvette asked with a snort. 

“I mean, if they’re being cruel to my little girl then…” Valentino began.

“Cut the shit. We may not be able to do anything as adults but we can give our sweet reader the means to defense herself,” Velvette snapped. 

Valentino tapped his cigarette ashed into the tray and gave her a disapproving look. “We’re not teaching my daughter to throw a punch. Not that she would anyway But we can go to school and talk to them. Give us a good feel for the policies they have in place. It’s highly doubtful they’ll give us the names of the kids- but I’ll ask her. Maybe she’ll tell me.”  Valentino asked. 

“They’d give you the names if you filed the fucking paperwork like I told you,” Velvette muttered. She tuned out the rest of their chatter, her mind reeling. There was no sense in arguing with Valentino- he was reader’s dad after all. But she didn’t see the issue with at least teaching her the basics of self defense. And honestly, what Valentino didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. 

The sound of Vox’s voice pulled her back to attention.

“I’ll fit her with a small camera. Tomorrow.” Vox said definitively. “At least then we’ll have proof. And they can’t ignore proof- we have to sort of play by the rules here, Valentino. Until then, what do we do?”

“Love her, comfort her. Help her manage her anxiety and I think I have the perfect book about it for bedtime tonight.” Velvette suggested. “Sound like a plan?” 

Both boys seemed to agree. 

As soon as reader walked in the door that night, she dove into her afterschool routine. Homework with Vox, dinner at the dinner table with all three of them, bathtime with Valentino, teeth brushing, pjs and because it was Thursday- tucked into bed first by Aunt Velvette. 

“Reader? Can we talk a little bit about school before your dad comes in?” Velvette asked as she pulled the bed covers back. 

Reader nodded and climbed under the sheets. Velvette laid down next to her and she snuggled the tiny body against hers. There wasn’t much in this world that turned Velvette soft, but reader was one of them. 

“I want to teach you what to do when someone is mean to you- your daddy is coming in in a few minutes to read a book about different ways to handle it. But I want to teach you another way- a secret way that has to stay between us girls, okay?” 

To her surprise, reader sat up and looked eager. 

“L-like what Auntie?” 

And so Velvette showed her, in the quiet ten minutes she had, how to throw a punch. How to turn her wrist, aim for the nose and step into the force. 

“Don’t ever start anything, but if they put a hand on you first, turn around and deck them. Hard. And they’ll never touch you again.  But don’t tell your Dad I taught you, okay? Keep it between us girls.” 

Reader nodded happily and tucked herself back against Velvette as Valentino walked in. He took his place on the other side of the bed and Reader leaned up and nuzzled Velvette’s cheek- butterfly kisses, as she called them, before snuggling back against Valentino. 

“This book is called I said no,” Velvette heard Valentino say as she quietly closed the door and made her way to her own room. She hoped that her niece would never have to use the skills she taught her. But in her mind, it was better to have the skill and not need it, than to need it than not have it. 

But she still wasn’t surprised when she got the call from Valentino the next day. She pushed a button and the fury that was Valentino flashed on her screen. 

“Velvette! What did you do?” Valentino screamed. “I just got a fucking call from the school- Reader is in the principles office for punching someone! How the fuck does she know how to punch?”

Velvette snorted at the accusation as pride flooded through her heart. Atta girl. “Beats me, but Vox put a camera on her this morning right? So cool your jets. Is reader hurt?”

Velvette watched as he seemed to consider her point. 

“Well, no. I don’t think so,” Valentino said after the momentary pause. 

“And the other kid?”

“I…I don’t fucking know go with Vox to the school NOW. I’ll meet you there as soon as I finish the fucking paperwork.”

Velvette raised an eyebrow as Vox walked in the room. “Oh, you mean the paperwork you were supposed to finish last week?” 

“Fuck you Velvette, go and get your niece, now!” 

The screen went black and Velvette rolled her eyes. Reader wouldn’t have made the first move, she was certain of that. 

One short limo ride later, she and Vox walked into the school. They were immediately escorted to the principal's office and Velvette gritted her teeth at the scene that greeted them. Reader sat, tears streaming down her face next to a boy with a bloody nose. A female demon- probably his mother, stood behind him, glaring at reader. 

“You wanna fuck off?” Velvette snapped as she looked up. “And back the fuck off from my kid.” She reached over and lifted reader up into her arms as she continued to sob. “What happened, baby?” 

“What happened is that reader punched this young man in the face, completely unprovoked,” the principal began.

“H-h-he…” Reader began to sob. 

Velvette shushed her and gave Vox a look. 

“That’s what you say, let’s watch the footage and see what actually happened,” Vox interjected. 

The other two adults in the room seemed to freeze.

“Mr. Vox we don’t utilize cameras or any Voxtech…” the principal began. 

“You don’t, but I do,” Vox replied smoothly. 

Velvette watched both of their faces go white. Carefully, Vox reached over and unclipped the almost invisible camera from the collar of his niece's shirt. A video appeared on the wall behind them, showcasing the events of the day. Behind them, Valentino opened the door and closed it quietly. Two button presses and the truth came to light. The boy, pinching, teasing, name calling and laughing. Reader telling him to quietly leave her alone. A hit to the back and finally, reader turning around and nailing him in the face. 

“Oh good job baby girl,” Velvette whispered in reader’s ear. She felt the twitch of a smile against her shoulder as she cradled her. Good, Velvette thought, she was starting to settle. 

Vox shut the movie off and looked at the adults present. “I’m eager to see what type of punishment will come from this,” he said flatly. 

“We hold a no tolerance policy, so both the boy and reader will be suspended…”

“I think the fuck not.” Valentino’s cold voice came from across the room. 

The principal stood up, a miffed expression on his face. “Mr. Valentino. Ms. Velvette. Mr. Vox. With all due respect you don’t have a say over my school. Your jurisdiction ends at that door.” 

Valentino smirked and looked at the other V’s. He walked over to Velvette and took his daughter into his arms. He whispered something quietly in reader’s ear and a smile spread across her tear stained face. He walked her over to the principal's desk and gently nudged her.

“Go ahead bebita.”

“D-daddy s-says you’re fired!” She announced loudly before burying her face back in his neck. 

The principal's face turned deep red. “As I said you have no jurisdiction…the audacity…”

“Actually, I do,” Valentino replied as he held up a piece of paper. “As of today the V corporation owns this school, and every single one like it in the pride ring. You’re fired. And you..” he turned around to face both the mother and the child who sat frozen in horror. “Your brat of a child is expelled. Get off my property before I have you escorted out. All three of you. Now.” 

Valentino turned and walked out, gently holding his daughter as Vox and Velvette followed. 

“This would have been much less dramatic if you had filed the paperwork a week ago, like I told you to!” Velvette scolded. 

“Yeah, but that was fun- was it not?” Valentino looked down at his daughter, “did you like firing the principle my sweet ninita?” 

She nodded and he planted a kiss on her forehead as he carried her outside. “Let’s go out for lunch, my love. Calm down a little bit. And tomorrow when you go back to school, I promise no one will even think to lay a hand or speak unkindly to you.  We’ll protect you. And we always will.”

[gffa]

ABSOLUTELY EATING THIS UP because I don't think this is just grimdark Batman for the sake of grimdark Batman, there's a thread throughout this issue of Dick teetering on a tightrope of being a child and being a mirror of Bruce's anger and rage. Earlier in the issue, Bruce is refusing to let Dick out onto the street yet, saying that he's not ready, while Dick eavesdrops and looks ready to punch someone in the face about it. Woven in around this, is Jim Gordon asking to set up basically a playdate for Robin with his niece Barbara so they can go trick-or-treating together and Batman legit drops him off, like a kid about to go have fun. It's not until the Batsignal goes off that Dick runs off, and he's actually fairly happy-go-lucky as he's swinging through the air and kicking people in the face. Then this moment. A dark moment where Bruce is beating Julian Day so badly that the artist makes a point of all the blood on his fists, of Dick having a moment of, "I... didn't know he was an orphan." And the WHOLE POINT of the early days of Batman and Robin is that they were both orphans and that's why Bruce connected with him so hard, because he couldn't turn away from that little orphaned boy. And I think that's the point of these scenes, that Bruce isn't ready to let Dick into these fights because he doesn't want Dick to become him and see what Bruce himself has become. Bruce thinks during that fight that it was Alfred who made him wear the Kevlar, that he only agreed if it was thin and light. Bruce thinks about how he knows that kind of gun that was used in the killing. There's a thread running through the issue that Bruce is dealing with Harvey Dent becoming Two-Face, feeling betrayed about it and wondering if he could have saved his friend if he'd told him about Batman, given him a lifeline. It fits so well with what Dick Grayson is to Bruce Wayne--he's not just another orphan, but he's the one that will refuse to be made into a mirror of Bruce, that he will refuse to not be loved, that he will refuse to let Bruce stay in the dark. One of the main points of baby Dick Grayson as a character is that he was angry in the way Bruce was angry, but that he looked at the situation and said, you know what, I'm not going to let us fall into the dark, I'm going to drag us both out of here if I have to. This series comes with the context of Dark Victory before it, where Dick is portrayed as an angry child, but there are moments of adorableness and light. And that's it--you can't have Dick's character without recognizing that there's anger in there, but also you can't have Dick's character without one of the main themes of him is that he chooses to turn back to love and joy. This scene goes as dark as it does because it's a turning point for Dick, a point where he's realizing that he has choices in front of him. Bruce is saving him by giving him training and a home and people he loves, but Dick will be saving him by refusing to stay out of the light. And what a messy, convoluted dynamic that makes between them! A tiny child shouldn't be making that kind of decision, Bruce should be the adult here, but that's just who they are, and in a comic book story, it's really a testament to how incredible a character Dick Grayson is that he had all that anger and rage in him, will always carry it with him, but has the iron will to turn away from it and to emotionally go toe to toe with Batman and win. That child is going to bright laughter and love to Bruce Wayne's life, he's going to bring back the compassion and kindness that Bruce has buried in his heart, and there's nothing Bruce can do to stop him.

[deerlino]

lost and found.

bang chan x fem!reader / you and chan are about to get married, but the day before the wedding, he just disappears. there’s a note on your bed, and from that point on, everything goes downhill.

additional tags / angst, hurt-comfort, emotional turmoil, wedding jitters, cold feet, open ending, love confessions, pre-wedding drama, visuals (text messages, letter), apologies — 963 words in total.

content warnings / abandonment, lack of communication, commitment issues, panic and anxiety (subtle), facing fears (fear of the future ?), some strong language (cussing), chan’s kind of an asshole (😅)

further notes / writing angst is so much fun, seriously my fave genre ever. 😝 been all about the fluffy stuff lately, but i had to dive back into my roots and whip up some tasty pre-wedding angst. what do you think? i'm totally loving it, heheh. hope you enjoy the ride! <3

The day before your wedding, you can’t help but feel a buzz of excitement and nervousness. You've waited for this moment for so long, and now it's almost here. You and Chan have been inseparable since you met, and tomorrow was supposed to be the start of your forever. But when you wake up that morning, something feels off.

You stretch out your hand, expecting to find Chan beside you, but the bed is cold. Frowning, you sit up, scanning the room for any sign of him. That’s when you see it—a note on his pillow. Your heart sinks as you reach for it, hands trembling.

You stare at the words, not comprehending. Had to leave? What does that even mean? Panic starts to rise in your chest as you read the note over and over again, hoping it will magically change or offer some explanation. But it doesn’t.

You grab your phone and dial his number, but it goes straight to voicemail. “Chan, what the hell is going on? Where are you? Call me back, please,” you plead, trying to keep your voice steady.

Hours pass, and still no word from Chan. You call his friends, his family, anyone who might know where he is, but no one has seen him. Every minute feels like an eternity, and the worry is gnawing at your insides.

By afternoon, your concern turns to anger. How could he do this to you? The day before your wedding, no less. You pace the living room, clutching your phone, willing it to ring. When it finally does, you almost drop it in your haste to answer.

“Hello?”

“Y/N.” It’s Chan’s voice, but it sounds strained.

“Chan! Where are you? What’s going on?” The questions spill out before you can stop them.

“I... I’m sorry, Y/N. I just... I need some time to think.”

“Think? About what? We’re getting married tomorrow!”

There’s a long pause, and you can hear him take a deep breath. “I know. I just... I’m not sure if I’m ready.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “Not ready? Are you fucking kidding me, Chan? We’ve been planning this for months! Why are you doing this now?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he says quietly.

“Well, guess what? You did hurt me. A lot. And you could’ve talked to me instead of just disappearing.”

“I’m so sorry,” he repeats, but it feels hollow. “I just... I need to figure some things out.”

You hang up, tears streaming down your face. Why would he do this to you? You feel a mix of hurt and rage, your emotions swinging wildly. Part of you wants to find him and demand answers, while another part of you just wants to curl up and cry.

The rest of the day is a blur. You cancel the rehearsal dinner, making up excuses for why Chan isn’t there. Your friends and family try to comfort you, but nothing they say can ease the pain.

That night, you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment you’ve shared with Chan. You wonder where it all went wrong. Was it something you did? Something you said? The uncertainty is maddening.

The next morning, you wake up to a flurry of text messages. One stands out—it’s from Chan.

You hesitate, fingers hovering over the screen. Part of you wants to ignore him, to make him feel the pain you’re feeling. But the other part of you needs answers.

You arrive at the little park where you and Chan have shared so many memories. He’s sitting on the bench, looking more miserable than you’ve ever seen him. When he sees you, he stands up, but you hold up a hand to stop him.

“Just... explain,” you say, keeping your distance.

He takes a deep breath. “I’ve been freaking out, Y/N. The thought of forever, it just... it scared me. I started doubting everything, and I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“So you ran away instead? That’s real mature, Chan.”

“I know, I know. It was stupid. But I love you, and the idea of losing you terrified me even more.”

You can see the sincerity in his eyes, but the hurt is still too fresh. “You could’ve talked to me. We could’ve worked through it together.”

He nods, looking down. “I’m sorry. I should’ve. I was just so scared of disappointing you, of not being enough.”

You step closer, your anger softening a little. “Chan, we’re supposed to be a team. If you’re scared or unsure, you need to tell me. We face things together, remember?”

He looks up, tears in his eyes. “I remember. And I’m so sorry I forgot that. I promise, I’ll never run away again.”

You take a deep breath, the weight of the past day starting to lift. “This isn’t going to be easy, you know. We’ve got a lot to talk about, and it’s going to take time to rebuild that trust.”

“I know. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes,” he says, stepping closer.

You nod, feeling a small glimmer of hope. “Okay. Let’s start with talking.”

You spend the next few hours sitting on that bench, talking about everything. The doubts, the fears, the future. It’s raw and emotional, but it’s also healing. By the end of it, you both feel a bit lighter.

When you finally stand up, Chan reaches for your hand. “So, about that wedding...”

You give him a small smile. “Let’s take it one day at a time. We’ll get there when we’re both ready.”

And for the first time since you found that note, you believe it.

© deerlino (est. 110624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3

[bluebugjay]

I could write essays on Charles' character. He's so tragic. That trope of 'you've become the very thing you wish to destroy' isn't in act here but it is his exact fear. He was brutally murdered by his friends, friends who we are shown beating up another kid as well, so assumably this isn't a rare thing for them, plus his abusive father. In life he was surrounded by violence.

And now in death he chooses to label himself 'the brawn' , Edwin relys on him to be the fighter as he can't even throw a punch, he's the only one of the main characters who has a signature weapon (his cricket bat) , when he gets angry or defensive or scared he gets violent. Because of course he does, look at his life.

He gets so scared of being like his father or even his literal killers that he puts on a positive mask all of the time (30+ years) to hide the anger and the sadness because he's a 'good guy' and he's only seen bad guys handle their emotions the way he does. He gets defensive over Brad and Hunter to the point of fault because he's desperately grasping for a man who isn't the worst. He's looking for hope that he isn't just like the others. He says "We've tried it your way, and it did nothing. Let's try mine." referring to his 'way' as fighting, which immediately seems weird considering Edwin and Crystal argue more than any other characters in the show but that's just the thing, they argue. They're quick with their words and sharp and harsh with them but they don't get aggressive and that's what Charles picks up on. Their anger doesn't become aggression but his does and he villainises himself for that.

Truth is, he could never be like his father or his friends turned bullies because he's their victim and he died their victim, (Night nurse: You never made it better and then you died) His aggression only occurs in defense of others, in the Devlin House he swings at the Dad whilst saying "Think you're big and tough with that axe? Big guy, killing a bunch of women?" he fights in defence of them. Then when he attacks the Night Nurse its in defence of Edwin being sent to hell, them being split up and also probably for how she tricked Crystal into having hope she'd found her family. (though spurred on by the Night Nurse forcing him to relive his traumatic memories too) It's always in defence of someone, to protect them. Which is the exact opposite of why his father and bullies were violent.

This is what's so good about dbda because obviously aggression is a flaw even with the best morals backing it up. Crystal calls him out on his anger issues, saying her and Edwin are on eggshells around him and later on Charles breaks down crying to Edwin who insists he is a good person because he cares about being one. Charles is allowed to have this journey that is most likely still ongoing, dealing with anger and grief and fear and masculinity and violence. We never doubt he's a good guy despite his flaws because he simply is, and all of the other characters know that as well.

[maximumkillshot]

Home

Warnings: There are a lot with this one and it hits close to home. Mentions of S/A. The R word is used, sobbing, anxiety and mental episode. mentions of self harm, mentions victim blaming and slut shaming. MDNI. There is fluff spattered around.

Pairing: BangChanxReader

Characters: Bang Chan, Reader, mention of the person who S/A, people Slut Shaming and Victim Blaming. 

A/N:  Okay so this one is heavy. The things you are about to read have happened to me. I had a mental episode a while back. I wrote most of this during said episode. This is what I think Chan would do for his S/O if they went through and go through what I did. This blog has always been a safe space. I use my fictions to entertain as well as a platform to have safe conversations. If you need me as always I will hang around after drop.

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“YN?” Your husband called out to you. You couldn't hear him from the pressure of today. It created a seething pool of frustration and anger as you kneeled at the foot of the bed, wanting to pray, but now that you think about it the pain of being on the floor was a sweet torture in and of itself. 

Usually, anger like this wouldn't be a problem for you. You would go down to the basement and punch granite with your poorly taped hands, yes you were only a kid then, not knowing how else to get the anger out only stopping when you'd hear a crunch. Yes, that was the start of negative coping mechanisms, and yes you are trying to either bury that anger or let it consume you fast before Chris gets home. He's dealt with enough, we don't need to add on to it.  

Now you're no longer a child… as a matter of fact, you are now an adult, an adult with a hairpin trigger vaguely yet expertly disguised as comedic sarcasm. Depression that you don't remember not having… maybe when you were 8? You weren't sure. Not to mention a cast made of a myriad of physical and mental health issues…. Disabilities… and the cast of characters just keep growing! You have the medicine and the “coping techniques”, they called it, for success! Even those fail. 

Trying to talk it out just made you more angry, the injustice looking more and more ludicrous by the second. Okay, let's try breathing. Yeah no. That didn't work either, it just gave your brain more oxygen, so your brain went from quantum computer speed to Sonic the fucking Hedgehog. Oh… ok oh oh! Let's try soundboarding. You know, talk to people, not yourself. That ended in yet another game of useless catch phrases like “calm down” and “you shouldn't be thinking of that.” 

TELL ME SOMETHING I DON'T FUCKING KNOW THANK YOU! Oh, and I almost forgot the “Your method of thought isn't changing because you don't want to change '' DO YOU THINK I AM POKED ALL DAY AND SAY TO MYSELF…

‘OH I WANT TO FEEL MORE LIKE SHIT… I KNOW LET ME RUN MY FACE INTO A BRICK WALL OF ANXIETY REPEATEDLY UNTIL I CAN'T CONTROL MYSELF ANYMORE.’

You reverted to hurting the people around you due to your anger and frustration, plus you darkened the mood, you've always been a multitasker. My friends were right. I'm depressing, I was only kept around because of my ex. That was before they kicked me out… because they didn't want to believe he assaulted me. You go back to that night often… 

“I didn’t want to do that, I felt icky” You told him after he came back from cleaning himself up in the bathroom, while you were left to clean the traces of himself from your own mouth. No aftercare, no thought about you. The ghost of a boy who used you, who was an on and off friend of almost 10 years…

“I know.” he answered with no emotion.

“Then… why?” You asked, your head cocked to the side.

“Because I really wanted it.” He puts his hand on your shoulder, “But I’m sorry you feel that way. Shit now I feel bad.”

Then it switched to those friends, on another night… “ I just don’t buy it. That DID NOT HAPPEN, I know him better than you.”

“I mean you did it anyway so you must’ve wanted it.”

You tried to explain that you were assaulted, it’s called coercive consent and it’s the most common form of assault. You were raped. You didn’t want to do it and he knew that but you wanted to make him happy. You tried to explain, to educate. They weren’t having it.This conversation at times whirls in your head. Making you itch to pull a trigger, do something to make the torture stop.

“You always overreact and you’re so annoying why don’t you just go the fuck away!”

“You’re so depressing just fucking go away! We only tolerated you because you are his girlfriend, just go the fuck away!” The intent in her voice. The reality. You trusted her most out of the entire group. She helped you emotionally… Now shaming you, blaming you.

Her boyfriend rendered you speachless when you called it what it was, it was rape via coercive consent:

“Oh I get the kind of person you are, you’re the type of person who gets felt up in the middle of the night by their significant other because they’re trying to get laid and you call it rape.”

You know the right method to take now, right… Yeah you do.

Isolate… process… torture yourself…cry… alone. Contain the monster, so it doesn't hurt anyone else… You're just a monster parading as a human. Don't forget it. This happens when you forget Y/N… stop being reckless. Always so fucking reckless… 

You started clenching your hands one over the other, wanting to rake the top of your hands until they bled, trying to ground yourself. Until subconsciously, you did. You rocked as you did it, trying to soothe yourself.

Sometimes you swear people don't see you drowning right in front of their fucking eyes. You know how to swim, you know how to get out, to scream, punch, fight. You want to swim, you really do. But you can only do so much in a rip current. The lifeguard sees you. But instead of helping they yell “PADDLE! JUST PADDLE YOU'LL BE FINE!” It's a different level of patronization. It just makes you want to let the tides swallow you. Because why fight when the waters are so warm?

“Y/N?!” Chris yelled as he saw your bag tossed haphazardly on the couch, never where you put it. He stopped and listened carefully. He thought back to the last text you sent him. “Shit hit the fan at work …I don't want to feel right now. I'll see you at home.” 

That middle sentence made his heart stop. He knows you… something was up. He tried texting you back, sending words of encouragement, calling, and leaving cute messages when you didn't pick up, and nothing was heard from you. As soon as he could get away from schedules he did. When he looked at the clock you had sent that message three hours beforehand, he never raced home faster. 

He knows what your mind does to you. He sees the battles every day. When he’d compliment you and you would look down, not shy, but contradictory. When he’d pick you up you would freeze and he’d remind you that you aren’t too heavy, that he loves you in every single way that you think is impossible to love you. He’d always encourage you to wear what you want, do what you want. He would caress every single curve, never being able to keep his hands off of you. Whispering into your ear in public as he tilts your head up gently after asking for permission. He’d kiss you so delicately in front of a sea of people. On the red carpet, on stage, it didn’t matter. You were and are his person, and he loved showing you off. He couldn’t win the war in your mind for you, but he damn sure would fight those battles with you.

He would fight away those negative thoughts, he’d wrap his arms around you and sing to you to will those images, the anxiety and fear away. Until those thoughts were rendered useless. He’d wrestle with them for control, as soon as he won your mind back he gave it to you. He reminded you that you are here with him for a reason. He adores you, and nothing would change that. 

It was something he promised you when he saw you breakdown while doing your medicines. You told him that you were ashamed of it all. All the illnesses, that you weren’t perfect and that you’d understand if he didn’t want you. He looked at you and helped with your medicines, learned about each of them, and their dosages. He was so gentle, smiling at you, wiping your tears. He looked at all the medicines and said, anything that keeps you alive is nothing to be ashamed of. You aren’t something to be ashamed of. He knows that sometimes you can’t hear him until he’s right in your ear. Now looked like that case.

You couldn't hear him calling out to you, your mind too loud, too vicious, bloodthirsty. When pain and self-deprecation are your main moods, all others seem like an abnormal concept. Something that is stolen, was it even real in the first place? You know one thing that was real… Chris. You hated being this… the medications, the constant fires in your mind, the barrage of hate aimed at yourself, of unbridled strength turned inward to rip yourself apart for no reason other than things piling up. He didn't deserve that. He deserves peace, the best… just like what he demands of himself, perfection. 

You got through the gauntlet at your job. People undermining your authority, people on a power trip of their own. Sending others to try to intimidate, embarrass you into submission… as if you weren't a bloodthirsty wolf that could snap any second, biting their heads clean off. “An Alpha through and through,” that's what Chris would say, “Even Alphas have to bite their tongue, Love.” 

That made you cry more because at this point you don't even know if your tongue is still existent, or if you swallowed the damn thing after you bit it off. Or worse… you still have it… but you lost your voice. You know that can't be it, we're too fucking stubborn for that.

But the hits didn't stop coming, traffic happened, then going to the doctor who said that the physical therapy you needed would eat into your personal time, your time to write, to cook for Channie and the boys, to spend time with Channie and the boys.. then you forgot the doctors note so you had to walk back in for it. Then you had to go home while you tried to talk about everything… and well now here we are. 

Even now you try to problem solve, try to nitpick at yourself, the person he loves so much. You collapsed more on the floor of your shared bedroom, cross-legged thinking of the ocean, the violent, dangerous, tumultuous ocean… something simultaneously so beautiful and scary. You want to say you are like an ocean, but you don't see beauty in yourself, only a beast. That's all we'll ever be.

Chris freezes in the hallway hearing a sob break loose from you. He hadn't heard a sob like that before, it chilled his core. How does he approach this? He sees the doctor's note thrown next to your purse… He was happy you were approved for physical therapy, you really were in a lot of pain daily from the muscle and tendon weakness, but he looked at the times…

He looked to the hallway, “Oh…Baby Girl.” He had one piece of the puzzle. He knew you loved to cook for him and the boys but this schedule meant you couldn't do that for the foreseeable future. You enjoyed seeing the boys eating, and staying fueled, knowing without that they'd opt for less healthy options. Then he saw the paper right under it. A typed log… a leger of interactions throughout your day… “No…” 

Right there, in black and white, was what you went through today, everything down to the sarcastic smirk your coworker had as you were barraged with pressure to break the rules… and you didn't break. He never would've expected you to. You are the strongest person he knows. Even under these conditions, Chris himself would break. In front of fifty plus people being berated, pushed to do something you knew you couldn’t do. 

Right at the end of it was a line, written in plain ink by hand. “Vacation not given as described by supervisor. No week off.” With tear stains smudging the ink. 

Chris started walking down the hall to the shared bedroom. As he walked closer he heard you mumbling as you sobbed. Things like “stop crying” and “it's nothing.” But one made him freeze right before he opened the door, “Chris is going to worry. You already take too much from him, get it together so he won't worry. It’ll hurt him. Stop hurting the people you love. You’re a monster.”

That made his eyes sting, you were worried about him above all else. He slowly opened the door and you couldn't find it in you to look up. You knew who it was. The aura you know and love, like salve on the holes you ripped into yourself. The small steps were only weighed down by his sneakers as he slowly spoke. 

“Hey…Baby Girl?” The tone was even more soothing. We don't deserve that. “Can you look at me please?” You just shook your head. Too embarrassed at the shambling mess you are. The real you that you hide. 

Before you knew it you saw two big hands undoing the laces on his sneakers, shortly after he toed them off. Slowly he sat in front of you groaning “Oooooookay criss-cross applesauce it is…” making you smirk as you wiped your nose with the inside of the collar of your shirt. Finally, as he settled he said “aaaaaughh” with a big puff of air… 

You just tucked your head into your chest as you hid as much as you could. He waited for a few minutes, until he said, “We can address what happened in a few minutes. But you need to know. You don't take from me.” 

Your tears kept falling as you listened, his tone calming the raging currents in your mind.

He looked at the engagement and wedding band on your left hand. He watched the tears fall, he saw the holes in you. He wanted to lunge at you, take that emotional knife away from you, smother you in affection. Hold you, his heart burned for it. Needle and thread ready to patch you up. To heal you.

 He spoke softly, “You are my everything, Y/N. You aren't a burden, a disappointment, you aren't a chore, the only thing you took from me was my heart, but you had that before I even heard your voice. The second I saw you… I gave it to you. I don't want it back either.” 

You hiccuped breaths as you listened. He scooted a little closer and he put his hands out, palm up into your vision… asking for your hands. That was when you realized you were scratching at them again. 

You unfurled them from one another, hissing where one nail was slightly deeper, the tiny droplet of blood following soon after.

He looked at your hands, humming in the back of his throat, “One second.” He didn’t want to show it, but he was worried. You feel so much and he just wants to be there to hold you, to love you. 

Then popped up and left. He came back with a first aid kit, “Oooooookay heeaarr we goar again... criss-cross.” That made you giggle the tiniest bit. Chris always loved to hear your laugh. Your laugh is infectious and it always never fails to brighten his day. He knew he was making progress.

You couldn't see it but Chris was smirking at your tiny cute form. And hearing that little giggle made him want to channel Changbin and squeal at the cuteness overload. 

“Okay my Koala Bear… hands.” When you both had started dating, he noticed you always hung on to him. You explained that he was warm and you were always frozen, especially in the colder months. You asked if it was okay for you to hold on to him like that. Internally he was trying his best not to giggle like a school boy at the prospect of you holding on to him like this naturally. He looked at you and said, “It’s no problem, you just remind me of a Koala Bear, so cute and tiny. Can I call you that? My Koala Bear?” And you nodded blushing. Since then, you’ve been his Koala Bear. 

You presented your hands to him wincing at the stretch of the new scratches and he said “So tiny… so cute. Okay tiny sting” he cleaned the bigger scratch and put a bandage on it, and checked the rest. Once he deemed it all good to have your hands back. He kissed them then returned them to your lap. “Thank you for letting me clean them.” 

You nodded and hummed. The voices slowed down. They always slowed down around him. He always was your safe place. Like home base in a baseball game. If you made it there, you’re safe. You’re home. That thought made you sad, surprisingly. How are you safe with only one person? You should have security in yourself not in someone else. Your brain was waiting to start assaulting you again. 

“Is it loud in there?” Chris asked. You've told him about all of this before, this is the first time he's seen it this bad though. The voices, memories attack you. You explained to him that sometimes your brain will do this, you try to hold it back but sometimes it just can’t be helped.

“Mhmm”

“People don't help… right?”

“mhmm”

“Can you tell me what's going on in there?”

You told him. Some.. not all. You also told him about that pesky intrusive thought about your ex and your friends. 

His body went rigid as he said, “No… they're the ones that are wrong, not you. Your ex…” He wanted to choose his words carefully. He knew that you blame yourself at times. The memory of you explaining why you were hesitant to go further when you were dating. He assured you there was no pressure. That he loved you for you, the rage boiled in him and it still does because you were never at fault for this. Especially when you trusted that asshole enough to experiment with him. He was going to be your first for everything but after what he did. The trust was gone, rightfully so.

Chris continued, “He took advantage of you, and coerced you into consent, that is not love. That is not okay? That is sexual assault. The way that your friends acted was disgusting, the way he acted was sub-human… You are not depressing, you are one of the most beautiful, talented, funny, caring, loving people I have…” his voice gave out and he cleared his throat, “You are one of the most amazing people I've ever met in my life. I love you so much and I know you feel like you're a burden on me but being with you has been the most amazing thing I've ever experienced.”

He tilted your head up and you let him, he had tears in his eyes as he said, “You have never been nor will you ever be a monster.” Your tears picked up as you looked into his eyes. You could tell, Chris doesn’t lie. He’ll tell you the truth. His tears started falling as you leaned forward, reaching for him, needing contact. When you saw him you needed his warmth, you need him to heal you. You were losing hope, faith, everything as you watched the holes in you. Seeing him holding the needle and thread. By holding you, being with you, just being himself, it heals you. You whimpered, “Need you…” As your tears switched from self-hate to desperation… you needed him and he could tell. 

He untangled his legs and scooped you up, cradling you in his arms as he rocked you petting your hair back, “You are my inspiration, my eternal love, you are the best part of my past, my present, and my future. You are the future mother to my children, the woman I'm going to grow old with, my forever and always. You are my Y/N, and I am never going to let you forget who you are and why I love you, okay?” He started crying, shielding you in his chest, protecting you. Stitching you together as you heard his heartbeat. You cried on him, relieved that you were with him.

You pulled back from him nodding. He tried to kiss your lips but you said “I'm all snotty” and he giggled. Leave it to you to be worried about snotty kisses. You looked so adorable, cheeks and nose red, nose running, tears stopping, the twinkle coming back into your eyes as he looked at you. 

“Are you denying me my snotty kisses?” He giggled as he said “Okay fine. There's no snot on your forehead” he pecked your forehead, “none on your cheeks”, and laid another peck, this pattern continued for any expanse of skin he could get his lips on as you giggled at him and his barrage of affection. When he stopped he wiped your nose with his sleeve and he kissed you gently on the lips. He savored moments like this, being able to heal you, to pick you up. He looked into your eyes as he said, “now I am thinking I’ll draw up a bath for us and I’ll give you a nice massage. After that we order take away, from your favorite place, then we watch something, Hm?” He looked at you for an answer as he kept wiping tears.

You nodded and gently, he placed you back where you were and went to get the bath ready. You'll always have hard days, but those days turn into amazing nights with Chris. Your home.

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[dk-ghostmachines]

I gotta talk about FourDogs (again)

It's barely about her, though. I think "he's so lucky his dad was brutally murdered" and "people with trauma need a second handicap because they're too motivated" are such absolute-the-fuck-ly bonkers takes, they're not even worth the time it took me to get mad about them, which was immediately. This time around, I have way more to say about audience reception. I'll try to keep it civil.

It feels like a lot of us are responding from increasingly personal places because these are characters with which a lot of us identify, or we see traits in them that remind us of people from our real lives. And hey! Another performance and storytelling slay on the part of one Brennan Lee Mulligan. Who else can invent 50+ characters every year and play them to the point where any one of them can evoke both an "omg that's literally me!" and an "omg that's literally Dani, the girl that bullied me all of freshmen year until I punched out her front tooth in the student parking lot and got in-school suspension for a month!". And whether Kipperlily reminds you of Dani, or reflects your own anxieties about potential, ability, and trauma, an important thing to remember is this: she is not real!

Brennan made her up! Brennan made her up to tell a story, and when he made her up, he made her annoying, petty, antagonistic, and he gave her not just opposing goals to the the protagonists we know and love, but the explicit goal of ruining The Bad Kids' lives, specifically.

Now, I'm not saying she's fictional to be a dick, or dismiss any deeper readings on her or any of the Rat Grinders. I'm bringing it up because the way I'm seeing people talk to each other about these characters is starting to get a little wild and it's in danger of waking up The Olde Gods™ (i.e. the special brand of Tumblr Self-Righteousness that lives inside us all).

It's important to remember Kipperlilly is a character in a fictive work so that different interpretations of her don't get treated as stone law. Each reading of her is personal and valid, but none are gospel. The "Kipperlilly is but a victim" take is not the only correct one, nor is radical empathy for her as a character the only correct reaction. Also, even if I consider her sympathetic that is not incompatible with an opinion like "Kipperlilly needs to get roundhouse'd in the head by a lesbian in a tracksuit and/or a wizard in a jean jacket, posthaste". Sure, you can say that anyone who doesn't feel a deep and eclipsing empathy for Kipperlilly above all other emotions is immature at best and sociopathic at worst, but then I can just say anyone who demands solely empathy for Kipperlilly and excuses her literal crimes and bass-ackwards world view because she's insecure and has anger issues, is probably also someone who has a history of weaponizing whatever minority status they may or may not occupy to talk over, silence, or harass people of color.

They're both just opinions. And also, like. Y'know. A bit much.

To engage in the long and rich tradition of measuring character trajectories against those in the Avatar: The Last Airbender cartoon, let's compare Kipperlilly to Azula. Azula had an incredibly sympathetic backstory and untreated mental health issues. Azula was also a danger to herself and others, as well as profoundly manipulative and abusive (although, it was a children's show so Azula never killed anybody for whatever that's worth). Do I wish that fourteen-year-old girl had an Iroh-type in her life? Literally one adult who loved her genuinely and advocated for her best interests? Of course I do. I saw the Ember Island episode, I watched that one video essay! Does that mean it was any less satisfying to watch Zuko and Katara kick her absolute ass? No! And it was non-lethal anyway, children's show, duh.

That brings me to my other thing; Kipperlilly is a character in a fictive work that is not finished. And I know that point will age poorly, but I'm thinking it won't be the only one (hey-o). Remember the people that were calling The Bad Kids bullies? And then we learned that Kipperlilly hated Riz because his fucking dad fucking died?? And that was a full academic year before getting reanimated by a rage god?? I'll do a tame one; remember when Gilear wasn't cursed?? He was "just a guy"?? The show is serialized, gang, the world is still building! Clerickiller is not done yet, y'all need to let her cook! I'm sure we'll tune in next week to see her graduate from "unhinged" to "unaffiliated with the door frame or any frame-like structure". Reprimanding people on Tumblr will not change the trajectory of this character who, by the way, has not expressed remorse or any desire for a path other than violence. You look me in my black face after your blorbo slits a kid's throat and say "help her"?? Kipperlilly doesn't want get better right now, she wants one thing and that's for Kristen Applebees to go fuck herself and die!! You were there, you heard it!! When the fictional behavior changes, as it often does in stories, so will my opinion. There is no fore-forgiveness. Without an actual redemption arc I will continue to see the villain as a villain.

Speaking of, I think what some people have an issue with is the level of hate Kipperlilly's getting and how aggressive it is. But like.... isn't that allowed?? Because of all the stuff I said but also because like, mama said that it was okay! And by "mama" I mean Siobhan Thompson who said Kipperlilly belongs under the jail. Sure, in the real world, adults don't tell kids they belong in the ground that's crazy fucked up, but all these kids are played by adults and Emily as Fig joked that she was gonna smite the sixteen-year-old girl played by the thirty-something man. You're telling me the antagonist antagonizes the protagonists, and the protagonists go "boo, hiss" and then I, the audience, go "boo, hiss as well" but I'm wrong? I'm wrong, somehow, cool checks out.

"They're XP Levelling*punches a locker*!!"

"That girl is worse than Kalvaxus."

"Littledoggy Girlcollar"

Am I not engaging with the narrative on it's own terms if I say "i'd tell Clerickiller to die mad, but she clearly already did, Jojo Siwa head-ass, in reference to that fuck-ass ponytail and your toxic yuri" Do I need to draw a little caitmay-style OC to say it for me, would that be better?

God-forbid, we have fun? Must we discourse, always? FourDogs is tragic, FourDogs is compelling, FourDogs is Dani from 9th grade. She is Azula from Avatar and Clare from Fleabag and Brennan Lee Mulligan from my dreams and that is something that can be so personal. But no one else has to participate in your parasocial relationship. What's crazy is, I actually like Kipperlilly! As a character. I mean, the "trauma is privilege" obviously hit a nerve with me because of real life stuff, but the image of her over the rogue teacher's grave?? With a backhoe and a "gotcha, bitch" expression??? Come on, that is fresh-off-the-vine Cunt™. Even more so than I imagined that moment to be when we first heard about it. Her ending up in a Ragh or Aelwyn place would be way more satisfying than a Goldenrod or Penelope Everpetal place, BUT IT WILL ALSO be satisfying to see whatever Kipperlilly's version of the locked-in-a-chokehold-and-being-gaslit-into-thinking-you-shit-the-coach's-pants-scene is. In addition to the non-lethal ass-kicking that proceeds it.

Y'all can chuck the insinuation that something so clearly subjective is actually objective and has moral implications that make me bad, directly in the garbage. What is this, religion, hey-o.

[barelylivingscholar]

“Dr.Ratio with a student who has an attitude…”

Babes this is 900+ words... I've put out another one, AGAIN.

- So, you are a member of the Intelligentsia guild, studying under Dr. Ratio’s class. At first you were like, “I think he’ll embody the “🤓” emoji while at the same time insulting the fuck out of me until I get it right 🙄. You were not wrong… Dude basically walked up to class one day and decided that everyone was “uneducated” without even taking a single look at you guys… Yeah… And that was the day you decided, y’know what, this old man will not be the cause of my 13th reason… Not me… I paid for this and I’m getting out of here with my diploma, bitch 💅. - Days with the old man is literal hell. Like, he will NOT give you guys a break… I can imagine all the work you guys do with this old man and leaving you guys to figure it out so you guys get “educated” like be serious right now he is not PLAYING at all. Literally the worst but, he does make sense… Sometimes. Me thinks he is not bad, but just a really, really, strict teacher… Terror professor vibes… That’s what I’m getting. I mean, bro would insult you “lowkey” and would not gaf about your comebacks… At all… So, it’s lowkey pointless to argue back because dude will literally just say one word… And that’s it…   - The number of students dropping his class is INSANE. If you look to your side, you would only see either one or two people in the class meaning, the class is looking almost empty… If not for the toughest students like you guys… Congrats on not dropping out and still continuing to go through the old man’s class like… This is kind of a test for mentality and how long you guys would hold out… Me thinks, that you are definitely going to develop anger issues with this man… And some other mental illnesses you might catch during his lectures…

- If you manage to be one of the excelling students in his class that’s when he would start talking to you and you’re like… No way this old man suddenly decided he wanted to chat with me right now… Me thinks you’re going to be acting up the whole time… The conversations would start with stuff about the class and will end with how the lectures went for you. Oh boy… The way you DID NOT hold back on the feedback…You literally went off with your unresolved anger issues on him and the other mental illnesses you caught while under his guidance and bro just said “interesting.” All that for one word… Smh… - The next meeting went surprisingly… Smooth? Like the man suddenly decided he would be less insulting and more on… Lecturing…? What did this old man EAT??? You basically just sat there and side eyed him the whole time. Did the old man got possessed? That is what you were thinking halfway through the lecture until he called you out to answer his question so you had to snap out of it for a while sis… But alright, you’ll take it rather than the usual poorly disguised “constructive criticisms” you’d get every single damn time. You are very fortunate that you even got a score rather than the others that get 0’s or even negatives… Not saying you that smart but, you were just really good at what you’re doing me thinks… - There are only a few people that would catch the old man’s eye… So, consider yourself lucky to be “breathing” in the same air as him as he himself would say… Yeah, I think the urge of punching the old man and dropping out is at an all time high now… Or, if you’re too down bad for this man I think you would rather smooch him instead…? But idk man he’s kind of… Though I think you need to get therapy if you like getting berated or nagged by this old man all the time… He gives me Asian parents vibes… - Anyhow, time skip to the second semester and the class is FULL, yet again… You lowkey wished that it would be half empty again so fewer annoying people to deal with and fewer of the old man’s copies… I kid you not there are probably clones of him in the class… You can handle the old man but if my classmates were carbon copies of the old man, I would start throwing hands ngl… During the duration of the semester, you have seen… Students getting kicked out LITERALLY by the old man himself like, he just YEETED out a kid that wanted to bribe him for a slot in his class yikes… Or that one time some dude was caught slacking so he did the L thing to measure air idk??? And threw the guy like he was catapulted in angry birds... So many things happening in his class that you find yourself enjoying it now kind of??? Minus the usual hell that you would do every day though, that’s still insane and is not for the faint of heart… - So, TL;DR only sign up if you’re ready for to catch mental illnesses in his class… Tbh me thinks you get more negatives than benefits but it’s all good??? Somehow??? You get to flex that you graduated in HIS class??? And like now you’re desensitized, although you caught some mental illnesses on the side... But still, congrats?!?!  

[sixthsensewulf]

Just more Gorgug things which turns into Zac's PCs things. . Since half the time in Intrepid Heroes campaigns. .Zac's characters always steal my heart. . .

Gorgug doesn't go into a violent rage. His rage is quiet, his anger is known in the protectiveness that he does for his friends.

Like if you look at bad kids as a whole.. naturally you would assume the half orc is the barbarian because of the height difference of the group and the weapon of choice. But the personality doesn't match up... And besides it's an adventuring academy.. anyone could do anything. The half orc could have multi classed.. he is the quiet, reserved member of the group. One of the designated drivers for the bad kids. He has a healthy relationship with his emotions, if he doesn't well he has the rest of his party to lean on. He was a bullied kid by one of his party members early on freshman year and yet they have gotten on so well. When he loses it, he loses it in a way that doesn't harm his friends. The anger is directed towards his enemy or the creature that they are fighting. He doesn't raise his voice that often.

He literally is the personification of "Don't anger the quiet friend"..

WHICH come to think of it. . .I've noticed that it is a common theme throughout Zac's PCs actually.

PiP in Neverafter. .the only one who didn't yell in anger. . His anger was cold, threats etc. "Do you want to join him?", his early interactions with Alphonse. "Where did you go buddy? Where did you go when we needed you most my friend?"

Skip in ASO. . Not so much Skip but mostly Norman...but again, there wasn't that much anger around in that ship. .the anger at the slug dynasty could count. .

Lapin in aCoC... Yep this guy has a quiet anger with him. Although he and Theo have those heated discussions.. it's more Lapin enjoying the fact that he can pull that anger out of Theo, he never was upset or angry at the captain. His anger was directed at the sugar plum fairy, at the bulb, at the hand that the entire Rocks Family was dealt.

Finally Ricky. . . From Unsleeping City. . He literally is the "don't mess with or piss off the quiet one". In chapter 2. . Tony, one of the bads of that season, kidnapped Ester, tried to annoy Sofia, ended up pissing off Esther's partner. Someone that Tony had no real contact with each other. Someone that no relationship with Tony at all. And yet... Ricky needed a "fucking weapon". . .and using his partner's old magical bat The only time that he had sworn.. The only time that he actually wanted to hurt someone and resort to violence immediately. Another anger moment was Ricky with Cody in the Questing Blade moment. . the rest of the group (the voxs and Sofia) seeing Ricky punch something in anger. Sofia also punching a wall is normal for them.. . But Ricky? That is new. . . The voxs calming Ricky down so he can help deal with the issue of everything in the tunnel to the best of his ability.

[hestzhyen]

Kagurabachi, Family, and Abuse

(This is kind of heavy, so please take care if you choose to read.)

I can't stress enough how much I love Kagurabachi for it's nuanced takes on complicated issues. Legacy, abuse, trauma, and the people involved in these cycles- very sensitive stuff that should be handled with great care. So this manga taking the time to examine issues with delicacy is surprising for an action series where the MC and his foes lose limbs on the regular. The Rakuzaichi arc won me over heart and soul because of how it tackled abusive families in particular.

I don't think it's controversial to say that leaving your abusers behind to focus on yourself is a key part of healing. But when family is involved, that component tends to get scrambled or lost entirely. Somehow if it's a relative or a sibling or a parent, the situation is changed. The victim should try harder to work things out. The onus is on them to find out what's wrong and fix it somehow; become less vulnerable. Even the most saintly, well-meaning ally can fall into the trap of telling the victim that blood-related abusers somehow deserve extra grace. They're abusers but they're also family, after all. Families love each other and good intentions should mean a lot.

We see it all the time in media too. A parent lashes out in anger. A sibling destroys precious, irreplaceable mementos. A cousin bullies and their parents do nothing. Blood relations hit and hurt and do awful things. But family is family at the end of the day, so they come together to heal with tears and apologies. Everyone is suffering in some way but it'll be okay if they stick together and work through the pain. Pan out, roll credits.

Obviously the Sazanami clan was far more skewed towards villainy than what we see in the real world. But the extra context given to Kyoura right before his death humanized all of them. They were abusers who were trapped in the cycle by misguided devotion to familial duty. And now that the cycle is broken, the family has their chance to heal. Braidbro was told to help the little kids and honor Tenri's sacrifice by letting them avoid his fate, so hopefully they manage it. No more slavish devotion to the auction above familial bonds. They can come together with tears and apologies and work towards a better future.

Yet Hakuri won't be there to see it.

In another series, he might have stayed to help after working with Chihiro proved he was strong enough to stand on his own. Hakuri could have rebuilt the family with a new purpose since he's the first since the progenitor to naturally inherit the subspace sorcery. He'd have the clout to do it, being the only one able to ensure business returns to normal. He even landed the killing blow on Soya to prove his resolve and signal a shift in the family's status quo. It would have been even more vindication for him to go from family embarrassment to patriarch, and who doesn't love it when the underdog comes out on top? He could be the one to fix things! But taking over the family would have truly been a bad end for him- proof that he was still trapped.

Because what could possibly make up for what Hakuri endured all that time? No amount of crying and saying sorry and promising to do better heals an abuse victim. Braidbro and Sazasis could make sure he's waited on hand and foot for the rest of his life but the damage was done long ago. The emotional pain lingers far longer than the broken bones and torn skin. Even if Soya was the only one going so far as to use peelers and pliers on him, Hakuri was abused by all of them. They all agreed -implicitly or tacitly- to ostracize him and give him the worst jobs. We saw him getting ganged up on to be kicked and gut-punched. Kyoura wasn't the only one to deliberately look away. Hakuri's torture was a family affair.

So to see him walk free of it all makes my heart soar. Because Hokazono fucking gets it. The victim shouldn't be on the hook to lead the reform effort once the situation is exposed. They shouldn't even have to participate in group therapy. In order to truly heal, they need to leave. And Hakuri choosing to do so was framed as the best possible thing he could have done in the moment, thank god. No "but they're still family" guilt tripping from the author here. Hell, Hokazono even went out of his way to make sure Shiba gave Hakuri a clear out. Fuck rehabilitating abusive families thanks to the victim's hard work. Fuck glorifying victims becoming irreproachable ubermensches to stop "inviting" abuse. And a flying fuck off to giving the family the benefit of the doubt by waiting around to witness the improvement process. Hakuri is finally free to move on without looking back, as is every victim's right.

Kagurabachi went above and beyond my expectations for having this be the culmination of his arc. I was a bit worried that a story so strongly focused on family bonds would fall into the same pitfalls as many before it. I've been burned by authors mishandling familial abuse with "family above all" messaging way too many times. But we saw that dumbass mindset blatantly and thoroughly deconstructed into fine particulate matter at the end of the Rakuzaichi arc. And it's really sold me on Hokazono's ideals and storytelling in a way that the Sojo arc didn't.

This manga is more than just flashy sword fights and considering how best to honor and interpret family legacies now. Sometimes, families and their legacies are in fact too toxic to be allowed to continue. And thank god the abused kid doesn't have to be the one to help the family fix their shit after it all comes crashing down. I hope future arcs continue to showcase this level of sensitivity and care for the different types of pain the characters are going through.

[lillypad910]

Making Our Home Part 1

Pairing: abused!Billy Hargrove x abused!F!reader

Part 2

Uses (y/n) because I hate “x readers” that are actually OCs

Word Count: 7,789 (yes exactly, I wrote this in my notes app and copied it to word for this count and I went “OH” and this is only about HALF of the note so- still have an extra part that’s already another 7k words).

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! smut, unprotected sex, protected sex, swearing, violence, blood, abusive parents (both reader’s parents and Billy’s dad), “cheating” (Billy and reader aren’t actually dating), Billy is a jerk BUT character growth (Billy gets better I promise, so does Reader’s dad I definitely projected my own daddy issues, so I apologize in advance), pet names (Doll)

Summary: (y/n) has lived in Hawkins, Indiana her entire life. Everyone knows her, she’s the one that sits in the second row of class, with good grades, is kind, and has lots of friends. Billy was the new guy at school, the new “king” of Hawkins High. He’s a complete jerk to everyone, even her. So why does she feel so safe with him…?

A/N: This is something I’ve been working on for over a year now, and I think I finally got it to where I’m comfortable to share. I hate when Billy is written as this “jerk but nice to you” cliché, cause let’s be real, he wouldn’t be. He’s a racist and an asshole, but I think having someone who understands his source of anger would help let him begin to learn love.

Also Scent idea: Coconut Sandalwood (bath and body candle) is EXACTLY what I imagine Billy to smell like without the smoke or cologne. Like y’all KNOW that’s his Shower gel 😩 (I may have bought one for that reason 👀)

You can’t remember when these nights began. Maybe it was the supposed ‘one night’ that started the comfort you feel with him, or maybe the continued nights you both shared after, maybe the safety you felt in his arms. You weren’t sure. All you knew is that you didn’t hate it, unlike everything else in life.

Billy Hargrove moved to Hawkins with his dad and new step mom and step sister. You had lived in Hawkins your whole life, so when the new boy took charge as the new ‘King’ of Hawkins High School, you weren’t a stranger to it. Walking around school, you always thought Billy was attractive, like any other girl. Billy was everyone’s new favorite.

Growing up here, you were known around as the girl with a kind heart. But they all didn’t really know you. You were a kid in the second row, focused on school. But what people didn’t see was the important part. Your dad is a drunk, has been since you were little. Your mom cheats on him by going to the bar every night and not coming home until 3 in the morning, wobbling in the door, rolling her eyes seeing your dad passed out on the couch. Every morning awoke to screaming and crying, your mom being shoved into a wall and slapped, maybe a punch to your dad’s chin.

You didn’t understand why they didn’t divorce. Actually, that’s a lie. Your little sister was the reason, she was the only thing keeping you there, only thing keeping your broken family on the string.

Sometimes in bursts of anger during your mom’s late night adventures, your dad would wake and mistake you for her, beating on you and calling you names. You look so similar to your mom, that you blow it off as the blurry vision of alcoholism.

The abuse never stops though, it’s a constant spiral into farther depression. Your only hope is getting good grades and getting a scholarship, going away to college, moving out of this town, maybe taking your sister with you. It is the only chance you both have at a better life.

Or at least thats what you thought.

Billy was the first person you felt safe with. You weren’t about to loose that either.

Laying out on his bed, his hands squeezing your thighs as you both moan into the now humid air of his room. You feel safe and warm, comforted by his large hands against your skin. His lips smother yours in sloppy kisses, begging for you more. You love him. God, you love him. He slams into you harder, making your back arch. “Fuck, (y/n)…” his voice is raspy and deep, lulling you to reach up to his face and cup his cheeks in your hands, pulling him closer to you for a kiss. A real kiss.

When the event is finished, he lays over you, arms around your waist. You drink in everything about him. His curly hair sprayed out over your bare chest, his sent, fuck, his sent. He reeks of cigarettes, but a strong sent of a hefty cologne masks most of it, something woodsy, but you can still smell his shower gel or maybe his shampoo? Something with coconut, something you can’t notice unless he’s this close. You reach your hand up to pet his hair, but he pulls away before you can, getting up and throwing away the condom.

Things with Billy aren’t easy. He’s rough and mean, never one for aftercare unfortunately, which is really all you need sometimes.

Walking over to his dresser, he grabs the pack of cigarettes, pulling one out and lighting it. He places it in between his lips before pulling on his boxers. You lay there for a minute, trying to have his sent linger there as long as you can. You finally sit up, looking over to the mirror over his dresser, looking at him through it. He stares down on something on his dresser. You look at yourself in the reflection. You have hickeys all on your body, a blush creeping up your face as you stare longer at the marks he left on you.

“You staying or going tonight?” He asks, blowing out smoke from his mouth. “Am I allowed to stay tonight?” You ask, eyes glittering at the man in front of you. You’ve stayed before, but every time you felt like you were forcing him to let you, and you hated it. You hated forcing him to do things, he would just get mad about it. “You can. Not like you haven’t before.” He doesn’t look at you, but you can hear the annoyance in his voice.

You never understood why you feel safe with him. Maybe it’s more that he’s better than being at your house.

“I would like to…” you mumble. He opens a drawer in his dresser and pulls out one of his t-shirts, turning around and throwing it at the foot of his bed. You crawl over, legs shaking and pick up the shirt, throwing it over your head.

When you look up, a light gasp leaves you when you sees he’s standing right in front of you. His hand reaches and grabs you chin, tilting it up to make you look at him. “Don’t get too cozy with me, Doll, I’m not a kind man.” He drops your chin and snuffs out the cigarette in the ash tray on his dresser before turning back to you. “You know this already though, right?” He asks, leaning back. You nod, staring at him. “Fuck, (y/n), don’t look at me like that. Those soft eyes are gonna kill me one day.” He walks over, wrapping his hand around your neck before smashing his lips to yours. You kiss back almost instantly.

You wake up in the morning, the t-shirt thrown on to the floor at the foot of the bed. You move, only to feel Billy’s hand land on your waist and pull you closer to him. He may claim to not like cuddles, and only in this for sex, but he always does this in the morning.

He always pulls you close, snuggling his face into your hair. You love waking up to this Billy, this gentle, kind Billy. Still sleeping Billy.

You hear his alarm go off and you sigh, knowing it will wake him up and he’ll pull away. He always pulls away. You snuggle into his chest, not wanting to move, just enjoy these few moments when he’s unconsciously loving.

Billy shuffles swinging his arm back, slapping his alarm clock, before snuggling into you more. “Five more minutes…” he mumbles. You breath in his scent. You could live like this, right here. Just laying with him. He doesn’t even know he’s holding you but he is.

You close your eyes, and before long, the alarm goes off again, Billy pulls away and you sink from the shift of weight on the bed. He sits up, landing his feet on the floor, stretching his arms before placing his hands back on the mattress. His back covered in scratches. You didn’t even notice them last night. Scratches you made last night. You marked him.

Billy stands, snatching his boxers off the floor and slipping them on. He lights a cigarette, opening his curtain a bit to look outside. The sun blares in and you flinch at the bright light, “For fuck’s sake, Billy.” The words leave your mouth before you can even process them. He turns to you and glares, opening the curtain more just to blind you. “Morning, Doll.” He spits.

You glare at him and snatch one of the pillows off his bed, chunking it at him, “Fuck you, close the god damn curtain.” The pillow hits just at his dresser next to him, “Hey!” Billy yells. You turn over, now pissed off, your wonderful morning turned sour just from him waking up. Billy closes the curtain.

The next thing you know the blankets are pulled off your bare form, the cold air hitting you. You flinch before looking back at him, “What the hell, Billy!?” He slaps his pillow back on the bed just by your head. “Get up.” He glares. “No.” “I’m not asking, (y/n).” “Don’t care.” He rolls his eyes and grumbles, walking over to his closet.

Billy drives you down the road, speeding like a fucking mad man, before parking. “You can go slower, Jackass.” You roll your eyes hopping out of the passenger seat. Max steps out from the back seat, sitting her board down and kicking off towards the middle school. “I drive how I want.” Billy glares at you, before turning around to snuff out his cigarette into the ground. You slam his car door shut and watch him whip around and glare at you. “Fucking hell, (y/n), careful!” You roll your eyes at him again, throwing your bag over your shoulder and walking into the school.

You go your separate ways for the day, focusing on your school work. “(Y/n),” you turn away from your locker to see one of your popular friends. “Party at Carol’s tonight, you down?” You think for a moment.

Your parents don’t care when you go missing for days on end. Hell, you stayed with Billy for an entire week once and then came home at 2 am, dad passed out like usual, the only person acknowledging your absence being your little sister. Your mom asked you the following morning where you had been, but you could tell she didn’t really care. “A friend’s.” You told her. She shrugged it off with a simple “Ok.” They don’t fucking care about you.

“Sure, why not?”

You caught a ride with one of the guys your friend had been trying to set you up with for the past year. God, when will he take a hint. You wear a slutty outfit, hoping Billy will be there, honestly knowing he will be.

Hopping out of the car you spot Billy on the keg stand. Fucking dumbass. When he drops he throws his fist in the air, a cheer goes across the crowd circling him. He catches eyes with you. The guy who drove you wraps his arm around your waist.

Billy would never admit it, but he hates seeing you with other guys. It just pisses him off. He can’t explain why, he refuses to. He glares at you as the guy leads you into the house. Billy can’t keep his eyes off you no matter how hard he tries.

Billy has had a rough life, his mom fucking packing her shit when he was smaller than Max, his dad being a total abusive jackass all the time. He gets told to watch over Max, make sure she’s ok, and if she gets home late or something happens it’s always on him.

But for some fucking reason he doesn’t hate you. He claims he does, cussing you out or calling you a filthy whore when he finds out you slept with another guy. But he never means it. It’s hard because all he’s ever known is hatred.

He knows of the things you’ve dealt with at home, obviously being at your house a few times to learn how shitty your parents were, same with you with his dad. He hated when your dad beat you, he would sneak into you room just looking to let off steam, and find you crying with a bruise on your cheek. He hates you crying.

Billy doesn’t know how to handle tears, so when he finds you crying in your room, all he can do is give you an escape. Laying you back on your bed and roughly making you forget about your pain.

So yeah, seeing you with another guy pisses him off.

Walking into the house, Carol greets you. You give her a quick ‘hey’ before going straight for the alcohol. You take a red solo cup, dunking it into the punch bowl. Steve walks up finding you as you chug it down. “Whoa, whoa, (y/n), hey.” Steve snatched the cup from you. “Fuck off, Steve, not in the mood.” “Just… slow down, damn…”

He hands you the cup and you lean against the counter. “What’s up? You hate parties.” “Feeling like I need a distraction.” You glare at the crowd of teens in the living room, Billy on the other side, now flirting with what ever bitch he can get his hands on.

You know you have no right to be mad, you’re just fuck buddies, not exclusive. But it still pulls at your heart seeing him run his hands over other girls. You can practically feel them roam your skin, gripping at your hips-

“(Y/n)?” Steve pulls you from your stare. “What?” You ask. “You ok? You seem so out of it…” Steve places his hand on your shoulder.

You and Steve have been friends for a while, hanging around the same crowd since elementary. Honestly you used to date, but after you broke it off, trying to focus on school, Steve started going out with Nancy Wheeler, a girl in the grade under you. You thought they were perfect for each other. Steve loves Nancy, but he still cares for you and you for him. You stayed friends even now.

“I’m fine, Steve, I’m fine.” You tell him. He nods and removes his hand. “Ok, if you need anything, just let me know, ok? You’re still my friend, (l/n), you can’t cut me off that easy.” You giggle slightly. He always lightened your mood. “Yeah, dork, I know.” You ruffle his hair and step away from the punch bowl, trying to find the guy you pulled up with. You wanted attention. Even if it meant just more sex, at least maybe you could get aftercare from someone.

You run into Tommy, one of Billy’s friends, who immediately starts flirting with you. You reciprocate, wanting to honestly just have a good time. After a couple dances, Tommy takes you upstairs.

Pulling him immediately onto the bed, you kiss him just wanting someone to touch you. Tommy climbs over you, quick to scurry off his pants, but you stop him. You help him remove them before leaning down, being quick to take him into your mouth.

He’s no Billy, but the rest of your evening consisted of your legs wrapped around his waist, kisses dancing across your neck. You know that if Billy found out he’d be so pissed. So you enjoyed yourself, letting him have you all night long, any position he wanted you. But again, he was no Billy Hargrove.

The next morning, Billy waltzes into the boys locker room. He is already pissed off, you never answered any of his calls last night, couldn’t find you at the end of the party.

When he is getting changed, Tommy starts bragging about a bang he made last night. Billy’s ears perk, curious as to what secret whore was let out at the party. “Fuck, man, (y/n) was incredible.” Tommy smirks to himself. Billy froze. Why the hell was Tommy Hagan talking about you, his girl.

When the group gets out into the gym, Billy steps up to Tommy, “heard you had a good fuck last night?” “Yeah, don’t tell Carol though, she’d flip. Honestly this chick was way better.” “Yeah?” Billy asks, a smile on his face. “Yeah-“ Billy smashes his fist into Tommy’s cheek, practically throwing the guy to the ground. “What the hell, man?!” Tommy yells out, holding his cheek in his hand. Billy grabs Tommy’s shirt and yanks him to his feet, before throwing him against a wall, punching his fists into his face over and over again. Tommy’s face starts bleeding fast, but Billy doesn’t stop.

The fight builds up a crowd quickly, you being included. When you see Billy beating on Tommy you immediately squeeze through everyone, “Billy!” You run up and grab Billy’s arm, pulling him away from Tommy, trying to get him to stop. “Billy, stop!!” You get shoved down to the floor just as Carol comes running up. “Tommy!! Billy, quit it!” Carol smashes her body into Billy, getting him to finally shove off her boyfriend. You quickly stand, getting in between the couple and Billy. “Billy, stop!” You tell him, holding your hands against his chest, which shockingly he stops. Carol cups Tommy’s face in her hands, examining his wounds, before turning to you both.

To be honest you would have felt guilty in that moment, knowing you spent the night at her house with her boyfriend, but you didn’t. Honestly you were more so shocked. You got a reaction from Billy.

“What the fuck, Billy?!” Carol screams at him. The crowd around you watches you all carefully. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” She yells, obviously and rightfully pissed.

“Oh, fuck off, Carol!” Billy yells back. You stare at him, genuinely blown away by the way your touch is calming him down. He glances down at you hands, then back up at your face. His hand lifts and slaps your hand off him. “Get the fuck off. Fuck you. Fuck all of you!” Billy walks out the side door of the gym.

“Tommy? You hear me, baby?” Carol makes her boyfriend look at her. “What the hell happened?” She asks. You turn to Tommy, meeting eyes. “Nothing, he just… fucking attacked me. That fucking psycho.” Tommy breaths out. Carol’s eyes soften, but you knew. You knew Billy found out about last night.

You step out of the school at the end of the day, only to spot Billy walking up. You glare at him, pissed he got in a fucking fight. He was completely ok too, no bruises no marks, Tommy didn’t even stand a chance. “Billy.” You went to go walk past him, but he grips your arm, snatching you to stop and look at him. “You fucking bitch.”

His words slither out of his mouth with the purest venom. “This is all your fucking fault.” His grip on your arm tightens but you don’t move, not even flinch. “Fuck off, Billy. We aren’t dating, remember?” Billy couldn’t help but wanna fucking slap you across the face right there, but he knew if he did, he would be just like his dad.

He glances down and watched for a second as your chest raises and falls. For fuck’s sake he loves your chest. Your entire body. Everything about you. You are his guilty pleasure.

Even now, as you stand before him, knowing you fucked another guy just last night, he still wants you. “God fucking- fuck.” Billy drops his hand, before barging into the school, leaving you alone.

You make it home only to have your mom home, a shocking display. “Hey,” your mom calls as you enter the house, “where the fuck have you been?” She growls. “Your dad’s passed out, Penny has had to heat up fucking egos for the past three days!” You look away from your mother. “You never cared before.” Your mother raises her brow, “excuse me?” You go to repeat your words louder, not having a damn care in the world anymore, but a sharp stink hits your cheek as your face is whipped to look towards the tv.

You take a deep breath, your hand raising to brush against your now red cheek. Your mother’s hand lays out slightly in front of her. “Don’t you. Dare. Talk to me like that again! I’m your mother! You ungrateful-”without even thinking, your hand flies, slapping against her jaw so hard she stumbles. “I don’t have a mom.” Your voice spits with such distaste towards the word. “You have no right. Claiming to be a mom? Please! All you do is fuck around with guys at bars, leaving dad here for me to fucking deal with!” You press you finger to your chest, pressing into your skin. “Me! A teenager! You hate it here! So why don’t you just fucking leave! Life would be so much better if you just fucking died!” You practically spit at her, before running up stairs.

You slam your door shut, pressing your back against the white wood. Sliding down you lift your knees to your chest, allowing yourself to cry into them. You want comfort. You want him. You fucked up so fucking bad and you hate yourself for it. Your mom deserves hell, but you deserve much worse.

Before long banging comes from the other side, making you jump, a quick scream leaving your lips, as you press your weight against the door. “Open the door, (y/n)!” Your mother screams. “Open the god damn door!!” You reach down, tears streaming down your cheeks. You lock the door, before moving as much of your furniture you can in front of the door. You panic, looking around the room.

Opening your window quickly, you climb out onto the ledge of the roof, like Billy has done so many times before. You climb down, dropping to your knees as you hit the ground. You take no time to stand and start running.

Stopping at the door of the house, you knock hard, knowing your tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes were gonna give you away. Billy opens the door, his shirt off, “aww, missed me all ready, Doll? Done with that prick, Tommy?” “Oh fuck off.” You hissed at him. You body aches as you stare at him, his bare chest smooth and perfect. He raises his hand and grips your jaw, turning your head to the side to see the red mark on your cheek. You could still feel it stinging.

“What the hell happened?” He asks. Your body betrays you, soft whimpers leaving your lips as more sobs choke up from your throat. Billy stares at your eyes, trying to read your expression. “Did he hit you again?” He was asking about your dad, but all you can do is crumble. “Doll,” Billy stiffens as you lean into his chest, laying your head on his shoulder. As stated before he hates you crying.

“Doll, come in.” He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you inside, closing the door before slamming you against the wood. You let out a gasp, but don’t protest as his lips fall to yours, deeply placing kisses on your lips. “Fuck, Doll…” his hands raise up your shirt, before lifting you up so you sit around his waist. You run your hands through his hair, melting into his touch. God, you missed him.

He scoops you off the door, letting you lay your head into his neck as he walks you upstairs to his room. He lays you back, pressing soft kisses to your cheek then down your neck. “Billy…” your moans fill his ears, electrifying him. Fuck, the things you do to him. He fumbles with his belt as you lay on your back, wrapping your legs around his waist. He yanks out his belt from the belt loops quickly dropping his pants and boxers before sliding your underwear down your legs.

He takes no time slamming into you, starting at a fast pace, holding your hips against his waist. Your gasps and screams fill his room, followed by his deep grunts and groans. He climbs onto the bed, pushing deeper into you. Fuck, you made him crazy.

He places a hand on your lower stomach, pushing down, getting a lovely moan to slip out of your perfect lips. “Fuck, (y/n)…” his voice is groggy, deep, he grabs your thighs and pushes them down, opening you to be a perfect display for him. Your eyes roll back. Skin slaps against skin, the temperature in the room rising. “F-Fuck, Billy…” your toes curl.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck!” Billy leans down to kiss your stomach. “God, I’m gonna fucking cum, Doll…” your legs find themselves wrapped around his waist again, each thrust sends him deeper to your core. “B-Billy, please…” your voice begs him. He lets out a soft chuckle, “Please what, Doll? Do you wanna cum?” Billy asks, slapping his hand against your ass. The sting sends a shiver down your spine, but you like it. “Please…” he thrusts faster, your whimpers making this completely worth the workout. “Fuck…” Billy groans as he feels you release around him, making him tumble over his edge. He spills into you, placing his hands beside your head. “God… fuck…”

You pass out within seconds, laying into his bed comfortably. His scent fills your nose as you sleep, making you feel safe.

Billy lays in his bed, unable to sleep. His mind keeps replaying the last few hours in his head.

You passed out over his bed, and to be honest it scared the shit out of him. His body reacted before his brain, grabbing your face and patting your cheeks softly, “(y/n)? (Y/n).” You stirred, a hum leaving your lips, letting him release a sigh of relief. He pulled away from you, pulling out a shirt from his dresser and lifting you up, throwing it over your head. “Why the hell did you have to pass out on me? God, can’t even take it rough.” He mumbles to himself.

He stops when you lay your head on his shoulder. “Billy…” he froze, stiff as a board. “Yeah, Doll?” He spoke quietly. You didn’t answer and he looked over at your face, a soft smile on your lips. Fuck.

He laid you back, lifting your underwear off the ground and lifting it up your legs. He lets you lay back on his bed while he lights a cigarette. He takes a puff only to watch you wiggle in your sleep. “Billy…” his name leaves your lips, and he feels his heart skip each time. “God, what am I gonna do with you, Doll.” He leans over you, cigarette still in is mouth. He brushes your hair out of your face. “You stress me out… make me worry when I don’t know where you are.” He sighs. “God, you’re so pretty…” “Billy…” he brushes his knuckle against your soft cheek, “What’s on your mind, Doll. Tell me, I wanna know.” He mumbles.

He does want to know, he really wants to know. He wants to know what you think of him when you aren’t using a filter, when you don’t shout hate back at him.

“I love you, Billy…” the words are soft as they leave your lips, but just enough to make his heart jump out of his chest. He hasn’t been told he was loved since he was younger than Max, since his mom was still around. But here you were, thrown over his bed, mumbling that you love him in your sleep.

“You’re gonna kill me, Doll.” He leans over and places a soft kiss on your forehead, before pulling the covers over you, letting you sink deeper into his mattress. When he finishes his cigarette, he lays down with you, turning his back towards you.

He doesn’t know how to process this new information. You didn’t know what you were saying, he knew that much. He was bad for you, everything about him was awful, he knows that. But you love him.

You wake up to Billy, his back turned towards you. You glance over at the clock on his nightstand, 2:45. It’s still dark out, you sit up and rub your head. You glance down at yourself, you’re in one of Billy’s shirts, your underwear back on you. “Billy…?” You whisper, you know he’s probably asleep, but you really wanna cuddle him.

You slide yourself closer to him, just wanting to be next to him. You lay your forehead against his back, snuggling into his skin.

Billy feels you move against his back, trying to get closer to him, but not too much to freak him out. He feels his eyes water, unable to handle this much affection, but he let’s you continue to get comfy beside him.

In the morning, Billy is the first to get out of bed, like usual. His usual morning stretch and cigarette. You lay on your stomach, watching him carefully. You could watch this man walk around naked all day.

Billy opens the curtain and you brace yourself for the aggressive beam of light that hits your eyes, but it never comes. He sticks his head around the curtain, peeking outside. When he sees what he wants, he closes the curtain, making sure that the only light coming in is the amount spraying out from the sides.

“Doll,” Billy pokes your side a few minutes later. “Up, come on.” He’s being oddly gentle this morning. You sit up, your body still sore from last night. “Can we just skip today?” You ask, rubbing your eyes with your fist as though you were a child. Billy freezes before turning to you. “Doll, we have a test in physics, we can’t skip.” He tells you.

You like this Billy, a softer Billy. You nod and throw your legs over the bed. You go to stand but your legs wobble and send you crashing towards the ground. “Whoa, hey,” Billy comes over and helps you off the floor, “don’t be fucking stupid, take your time.” You nod as he lets go of you after sitting you back on the bed.

Last night must have been rough, you’ve never not been able to walk the next morning, but here you were, legs shaking as you were needing to get out of bed for school. Billy leaves the room and you take this time to get ready.

You have to stay leaning against furniture and walls to keep yourself from falling over. After your dressed, you try to remember all the events of last night. You remember him fucking you, hard. You remember both of you finishing, but after that it goes dark, until you woke up later in his clothes.

You conclude you passed out. Obviously, that’s the only real explanation. But why was he being so gentle this morning? He’s never this nice, it’s weird.

When Billy enters the room again, you watch him carefully. “Did I do something?” The words slip out nervously. He looks at you confused. “What?” “You’re just… you’re different this morning…” you mumble, twiddling your thumbs. “I mean you passed out last night. Made me have to fucking dress you.” His voice growls.

There he was. A comfort waves over you. “Sorry,” you speak, “I didn’t mean to.” “Yeah, no shit.”

You get into his car, now feeling like your legs aren’t jelly. Max hops into the back, now used to the fact that she doesn’t get the front seat as often anymore. Billy drives you all, speeding like usual and you just ignore it.

Getting out of the car, shutting the door, Billy speaks up, “yeah I know, go slower.” He rolls his eyes. You think for a minute. “Oh my god you’re learning.” Max stifles a laugh getting out of the car. “If only, fucking dumbass will kill us one day.” “Hey!” Billy glares at her. She flips him the bird before dropping her board down and skating off. You walk into the school, heading straight for class.

At lunch you sit down with Carol, who is already crying. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” You ask. Carol sobs and sniffles. “Tommy slept with another girl at the party the other night.” Another girl speaks up. “Carol found out from one of the boys. We think that’s why Billy got in a fight with him, defending Carol.” You wince, knowing damn well Billy wasn’t defending Carol, but the girl Tommy slept with, you.

“That Jackass.” You grumble and the girls all nod. “He fucking cheated, in my own house no less! Then came to school and let me fucking care about him!” Carol growls. “That’s so gross.” “Not cool.” “At your own party, disgusting.” The girls all pipe in, giving their thoughts on Tommy.

“Do you know who the girl is?” One girl asks. Carol shakes her head. Oh thank god. “He refused to tell me, just that she was better. That fucking asshole! That girl better watch her back though, I will fucking find her.”

Walking to your next class you get pulled into a classroom. The door shuts behind you and you whip around. Tommy.

“Tommy, what the hell?” You glare at him. “Sorry, I just…” Tommy takes a deep breath. “I really had fun the other night… and I was wondering…” he steps closer to you and you step back against the wall, “if you wanna maybe do it again sometimes?”

“Tommy, are you fucking serious.” Your eyes widen. “I just ate lunch. With Carol.” You snap at him. “Remember, your fucking girlfriend?” Tommy shrugs. “Not any more, I’m a single man, now, Love.” You wanna hurl at the nickname. “Tommy, it was a one night thing, I’m not interested.” “Oh please, (y/n), you were taking me so well. You expect me to believe that you jumping in yesterday wasn’t because you care about me?” “Yes.” You snarl at him. He hesitates for a moment.

“Oh, oh. I get it now.” He smirks at you. “You wanna keep us a secret, so that you don’t have to feel the wrath of Carol.”

Oh for fuck’s sake, he’s stupid. “No, Tommy. I don’t want to date you.” I clarify. “Who said anything about dating? Just fucking is fine with me, Sweet cheeks.” “Ew.” You go to grab the door but he cuts in front of you. “Ew? Bitch, you’re the reason I broke off a three year long relationship.” He glares at you. “Well maybe instead of thinking with your dick, you should have thought with you head and chose the girl that actually loved you. Not the girl that just wanted attention for a night.” You roll your eyes and shove past him.

Billy is waiting for you at his car when school ends, “have a nice time with Tommy?” He asks. “Fuck off, Billy, nothing fucking happened.” You glare at him. “Yeah, no shit, Doll, you came out ten minutes later, unless it just doesn’t take him that long.” He chuckles at his own words.

“So now what? You’re spying on me? Watching my every move?” You ask him, leaning against his car. He glares at you. “Hell no. Why would I be?” “Oh I don’t know, you just seem to always try to know where I am. What I’m doing.” You cross your arms over your chest. “Don’t flatter yourself, (l/n). You’re nothing special.” He tells you. “Yet you keep coming back to me.” You roll your eyes, before walking around the car.

“Hey,” you look up at him, his eyes are narrowed, “you came to me last night, remember? Don’t forget that.” He says opening the door to the driver’s side. “Not waiting on Max?” You ask him. He glares at you, “She can skate home.”

You sit in the car in silence, well as much silence as Scorpions screaming in your ear can give you. Billy bangs his hand against the steering wheel, and you stare out of the window. You look forwards only to see a group of kids on bikes. “Billy,” he looks over at you and speeds up. “Billy, slow down!” You yell at him. He just stares at you, “You know those kids?”

You do. Mike Wheeler, Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, and Will Byers. Mike’s little sister Holly is friends with Penny. “Billy, I’m not fucking joking, slow the god damn car!” You scream at him. You watch the kids speed up their peddling as they all try to race the speed of the car barreling towards them.

You place your hand on the wheel and push it to swerve around them, just missing them. “Billy, you jackass!” You slap his arm. He slams on his brakes, almost making you slam into the dashboard. “Get out.” You look at him shocked. Is he fucking serious? “I said get out!” He yells at you. You grab your stuff and step out of his car. You slam the car door shut and flip him the bird as he speeds off.

“(Y/n)?” Mike looks at you shocked as you turn around to face the group of boys. “Are you guys ok?” You ask, walking over to help lift Dustin off the ground. “Yeah, yeah.” Lucas tries to catch his breath. “Totally.” Dustin stumbles, catching himself on Mike’s shoulder. Will stares at you. “Why were you riding with Billy?” You stare at the group of middle schoolers as they stare back at you.

“It’s a… long story.” You glance to the tree line across the road. “Come on, I’ll walk with you guys.”

As you come by your house, you stop, staring at the building, the boys staring at you. “What’s wrong?” Lucas asks. “Nothing. Just thinking. You guys go home, now. It’ll get dark soon enough.” You ruffle Dustin’s hair. They all nod and leave you standing outside your house.

You stare at the empty driveway, your mom’s car not there. A relief sets in. You step into your home, shutting the door quietly to not wake your dad. You walk upstairs only to see your little sister’s door peep open.

Her eyes glitter in the crack of the door. “Hey, Pen.” You greet her. She slowly opens her door, “Is Mommy home?” “No, she’s not.” You tell her. She thinks for a minute, you can practically see her gears turning in her head.

She runs out of her room and tackles your legs, “Hey, now, careful. Don’t wanna send me flying down the stairs do you?” She shakes her head against you skin. “Penny,” you crouch down to her height, “I’m sorry I haven’t been home much recently…” you choke out.

You hate leaving her here, knowing she has to hear all the yelling and fighting and not have you with her to help her through it. But you also know it’s better when you’re not here. Your mom treats her with more care than you. You would never hold that against Penny, though. You adore her. She’s the light in this dark house.

You know why your mom favors her also. Your mom and dad haven’t slept together since you were little, so when your mom got pregnant with Penny, you weren’t fucking stupid. Penny isn’t your dad’s kid. She’s some result of a hook up your mom had, some old flame from high school. You know who, though you didn’t know his name. You met him, years ago, when your dad was still working late nights at the plant. Your mom would bring this guy home almost every night.

Even so, knowing who Penny was, she was still your sister, no matter who or where she comes from. You love her.

“Have you eaten?” You ask her. She shakes her head and looks up at you. “What do you wanna eat?” Her eyes light up. “Pizza?” You let a soft chuckle escape your lips, “I can do that, tortilla or do you wanna order?” “Tortilla!” You nod and gesture for her to go downstairs.

Following your little sister into the kitchen, you both quietly pull out all the things you need to make your pizzas, you also preheat the oven to broil on high. You pull out the little step for your sister to make both the pizzas, helping her spread around the sauce onto the tortillas. “What are you girls doing?” You both freeze and look up, your dad now stands in the door way of the kitchen. “We…” you glance towards your sister and back at your dad, “we’re making tortilla pizzas for dinner.” Your dad’s eyes soften, “Oh, mind making me one?” He steps closer and you nod.

You have never seen your dad as a bad guy, he was genuinely a sweet guy when he was sober. When he was still working at the plant, he would take you to get ice cream after his late nights at work. Especially on Saturdays. Saturdays were the day your mom was out of the house for work, but your dad was always home, watching you. Saturdays used to be your favorite day, now you don’t have a favorite.

On Saturday morning you would wake up to your mom leaving for work and your dad just getting off his shift. He would come into the door, tackle you in a bear hug and you would both make breakfast together, pancakes and eggs. Sometimes mixing it up and making waffles. Then after eating, you both would sit on the couch and watch what ever you wanted, usually because he would end up passing out, finally getting some sleep. You didn’t mind that he slept though, happy just to be able to hang out with him for a day.

When he would wake up, sometime around 1:00, you would get into his truck and go to a local diner for lunch, getting a burger and fries. He would always get the turkey club sandwich. After that you would get one banana split and share it, he would always make the day worth the wait.

You miss those Saturdays, nothing but happy memories. You don’t know why that tradition stopped, but it stopped sometimes around when Penny was about 2, and your dad lost his job. Back then he was so kind, only wanting to make you both happy when he could. Now, now he was a shot in the dark.

After you all made your pizzas, you go to pick up the pan and place it in the oven, “Here, Pumpkin,” the nickname catches you off guard when your dad’s rough hand places on top of yours. “Let me, please.” He stares at you, those dark eyes, soft and sweet. You nod, letting him take the tray and place it into the oven. You allow yourself to finally relax.

You all sit around the table, laughing and catching up, as if you all don’t live under the same roof. Your dad’s smile fills the room, making your heart melt. You always did love his smile. After eating, he scooped out some ice cream while Penny and you cleaned the kitchen. You all move to the couch and put on a movie.

Sitting on the couch, your sister now sprawled across it, leaning against your dad’s chest, passed out. Her feet lay on your lap but you don’t mind, it’s nice to see her being comfortable to nap on the couch. You look over at your dad, he’s wide awake, stroking Penny’s hair with his palm. He looks up to see you staring at him.

“What’s up, Pumpkin?” You hesitate, a knot forming in your throat. “I missed you.” The words fumble out of your mouth as tears form in your eyes. “I really missed you.” He smiles softly holding out his arms and you crawl across the couch to him, laying against him, but making sure not to crush Penny in the process. “I know… I missed you too, (y/n).” Your tears run down your cheeks, dampening his shirt.

His fingers run through your hair. He presses a soft kiss to your head. “I’m sorry, I know things have been tough for you, I should have been there.” He nuzzles into your hair. “You’ll always be my little girl, Sweetie. I’m so sorry. You’ve done so well taking care of Penny, taking care of all of us, but you shouldn’t have to do that. God, I’m so sorry.” He kisses you forehead and you can’t stop crying.

His scent makes you feel comfortable, the smell of cigar smoke and cranberry. You missed him, so much.

As midnight strikes on the clock hanging on the wall, your dad wipes away your tears, laying his hands against your cheeks to cup your face, before placing a soft kiss on your nose. “I always hated seeing you cry.” You let out a laugh in between your sobs. “I probably look stupid, nose all runny.” You let yourself smile. “Oh no, never.” He shakes his head, a playful smile on his lips. “Not my little girl, you were always a pretty crier, even as a child, all snotty and whaling around, thumping your fists.” He chuckles to himself.

He lets out a soft sigh. “We should probably get Penny to bed.” You nod, getting up from the couch. You go to scoop up your sister, but he stops you. “I got her. Will you grab the bowls?” You nod and collect all the dirty dishes off the coffee table. You place them in the sink and watch as your dad slowly lays your little sister over his chest, supporting her bottom with his arm.

“Daddy?” You hear her soft voice call out, “Shh,” your dad mumbles to her, “Time for bed, Sweet pea.” She nuzzles into his neck as you come back into view. You follow your dad up to her room, helping him lay her down in her bed. “Good night, Penny.” Your dad places a soft kiss on her head, and she hums in response. He steps out, turning off her light and shutting the door as quietly as he can.

“She’s gotten big.” He puts his hands in the way he was having to carry her, obviously exaggerating. You let yourself giggle. He smiles at your laugh. “Tomorrow is Saturday, right?” He asks. You think for a moment. Tomorrow is Saturday. “Yeah,” he smiles and lifts a hand to ruffle your hair.

“How about we reawaken our old tradition, make breakfast in the morning and go get lunch at the diner across town?” Your heart thumps in your chest. “I would like that, Dad. I would like that very much.” You smile, a genuine smile. “Good. Now, get to bed, Pumpkin.” He pulls you in for another hug, before heading back downstairs.

You make it into your room, slowly shutting the door. You know by morning, he probably will have forgotten, probably be drunk on whiskey again. You know he probably will forget about the whole evening he spent with his two little girls on the couch, shoving ice cream into your mouths and a movie on the screen. But you don’t care, you want to soak in the night for as long as you can.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Hiya could we get some analysis of Family Line from Bambi's perspective??

Here we go!

My father never talked a lot He just took a walk around the block 'Til all his anger took a hold of him And then he'd hit Metaphorically, Alexia, who very famously didn't talk at all to anyone about her PPD

My mother never cried a lot She took the punches, but she never fought 'Til she said, "I'm leaving, and I'll take the kids" So she did Jenni's Version!Jenni ending up 'taking Bambi' after taking care of her after the neglect. She was really at the end of her patience

I say they're just the ones who gave me life But I truly am my parents' child Bambi trying to draw a line between Alexia and Mami in Jenni's Version. Alexia gets demoted from Mami to just the woman who birthed her but Bambi is still impacted by the way Alexia raised her in those first few years

Scattered 'cross my family line I'm so good at telling lies Bambi lies about her eating disorder in both versions and she's so well practiced at it

That came from my mother's side Told a million to survive Scattered 'cross my family line Bambi's lying and pushing people away when times get tough definitely comes from Alexia

God, I have my father's eyes But my sister's when I cry Bambi doesn't really look much like her family. Sometimes the only thing that links her is she cries the same way Jaume does

I can run, but I can't hide From my family line Bambi can leave the country with Jenni and she can dance in England and France but she can't ever fully escape the trauma that she has

It's hard to put it into words How the holidays will always hurt The 'holidays' being a metaphor for football. It's always a bit of a sore spot in Bambi's life just because when she was younger it was always football or nothing

I watch the fathers with their little girls And wonder what I did to deserve this Seeing Alexia with Jaume and wondering why he got the special treatment even back when he was a baby

How could you hurt a little kid? I can't forget, I can't forgive you 'Cause now I'm scared that everyone I love will leave me Bambi's neglect causes her some pretty severe self worth issues. Her eating disorder and the feelings associated with that can be traced back to her self worth but also how she loves in her relationships and her feelings surrounding them

Scattered 'cross my family line I'm so good at telling lies Bambi's used to saying one thing but actually thinking another

That came from my mother's side Told a million to survive Scattered 'cross my family line Bambi's idea of 'surviving' is very closely associated with being perceived well by others. If she has to be a completely different person with them then she will be

God, I have my father's eyes But my sister's when I cry Bambi kind of wishes she looks more like Alexia than she actually does. She thinks if it were more obvious than she wouldn't have been forgotten so easily I can run, but I can't hide From my family line From my family line Bambi in Alexia's Version sometimes having random regressions and just being filled with rage at how she was treated. It creeps up randomly

Oh, all that I did to try to undo it All of my pain and all your excuses Bambi tried so hard to be perfect and to be noticed by Alexia but it didn't happen until it was too late

I was a kid but I wasn't clueless (Someone who loves you wouldn't do this) Sometimes, when Bambi lies in bed, she wonders if Alexia has ever actually loved her or if she was born simply to be the trial run before Jaume

All of my past, I tried to erase it But now I see, would I even change it? Jenni's Version!Bambi completely changing herself into Bambi Hermoso in an attempt to forget about her own past

Might share a face and share a last name, but (We are not the same) Bambi and Alexia are similar, definitely, but Jenni's Version!Bambi will never admit that

Scattered 'cross my family line I'm so good at telling lies Bambi is a really good liar. She's so used to lying about how she's feeling and what's she doing

That came from my mother's side Told a million to survive Scattered across my family line Bambi starts lying about her feelings super young and it just carries through to adulthood. She knows what people want to hear so she tells them it

God, I have my father's eyes But my sister's when I cry Bambi is always somewhat connected with Alexia one way or another even in Jenni's Version

I can run, but I can't hide From my family line From my family line Her childhood left a big mark on Bambi. From the way she feels about herself to how she forms relationships, it can all be traced back to when she was younger

[tvb0y]

HI THERR ^^ my name is Austin or Reaper and I have a couple of TMNT Hcs. Some are the Rise version, others are the 2012 version.

First, for both versions, I think the turtles are heavily co-dependent on each other. Like HEAVILY. Let ONE turtle not come back home one night, everyone is freaking the hell out. ESPECIALLY IF IT’S MIKEY.

Another both versions HC, yk that whistle in Black Widow? The turtles have a certain calling system, kind of when teachers clap and you clap back in school. But it’s whistles and chirps. And it’s like silent communication in a way. Also, Master Splinter is definitely usually confused when he hears the whistles and chirps but has decided against saying anything.

Now, for 2012 HCs!

Ralph has major anger issues. Like completely destroying his room, cracking fingers to calm down and accidentally broke one, punching walls in the holes kind of anger issues.

Donnie is somehow the type who has such an unhealthy eating disorder (eating a lot one day and then not eating at all while designing an app another day) and it’s a miracle on how somehow, it hasn’t stamped his fighting abilities.

Leo paces in circles when he’s bored or practicing a new technique with his sword. Perfect circles if he’s anxious about something.

Mikey has an acrobatic fighting style (this goes for Rise and 2012).

Donnie used to have a rubix cube hyperfixation and literally has over 26 rubix cubes in there, 3x3, 2x2, 100x100, you name it. It’s not has much of a bigger hyperfixation now but you can still occasionally catch him fiddling and messing with one just to solve it again.

Ralph gets easily overstimulated with noise, especially if it’s insults and has a tendency to lash out as a defense mechanism when things or people get too loud.

Ralph is an avid smoker and probably an addict.

Mikey has completely mastered all forms of pencil spinning, every trick in the book and Donnie still gets jealous over it.

Ralphael “You didn’t eat again.” and Donatello “And you didn’t sleep again.”

Leo knows such useless but somehow important information? Like while Donnie knows only the important stuff, Leo knows the unconventional stuff. Like he knows how dismember a body but does not know how to cook a body.

Leo likes true crime podcasts and books about detectives.

Ralph and Casey do not argue. They spar. And whoever wins has successfully proved their point in whatever the argument was about and loser has to do what they say to fix whatever they were arguing about.

Have you seen the fights between Natasha Romanoff and The Winter Soldier? That’s usually them.

NOW RISE HCS!

Leo is a pathological liar, and is trying to not lie as much. He also has a tendency to copy trauma responses he sees on the tv shows Splinter puts on to get Splinter’s attention.

Leo would absolutely be a theatre kid.

Ralph likes hot chocolate and only smokes when he’s stressed or angry.

And also refers to his brothers as “his boys”.

Mikey commonly does ballet and is an aerialist. It helps a ton with his fighting style — seeing as both ballet dancers and aerialist have to be A. On point, B. Discipline and able to handle being pushed beyond their physical limits and C. Controlled and deadly.

Again, Donnie has disordered eating. But mostly just consumes drinks instead of actual nutrition and even has forgotten to eat at some points.

Ralphael “You didn’t eat again.” and Donatello “And you didn’t sleep again.” because YES.

Leo is, how could I say this? The brat of the family. Regularly finds loopholes to punishments he gets.

Mikey starts bouncing up and down when he’s excited. Pizza? He’s bouncing. Patrol? He’s bouncing. Movie night? He’s BOUNCING. Ralph, Donnie and Leo essentially have a damn ball for a brother.

Ralph is actually great with kids, especially younger babies. Surprisingly, they don’t seem all that afraid of him. It’s Donnie they’re afraid of.

Ralph still has horrible anger issues, but in a way that his head starts to hurt when he’s angry. In a way that his own anger-filled thoughts terrify him, in a way where he’ll take it out on himself instead of others.

Donnie paces when he’s ranting and paces in perfect circles when he’s figuring something out.

Donnie is the “genius and madness” trope and nope. I don’t wanna hear any criticism.

Donnie does jigsaw puzzles. And has learned Japanese just so he could understand the sub version of anime.

Leo is a writer but NOBODY knows that.

And yeah, that’s about it :p

DUDE THIS IS INSANE /Pos

I love all these Hcs and I especially the overstimulated by noise one with Raph, which I think would apply to ROTTMNT Raph too

TYSM FOR SPENDING YOUR TIME ON THIS AND TELLING ME!!! LIKE SERIOUSLY, THIS IS IMPRESSIVE :0

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

HELP your time travel shenanigans fic idea about toji being very much alive but still putting the fate of his two little ass kids in the hands of a bunch of 16-17 year olds even if he’s still breathing. if i was megumi then my abandonment issues would’ve gone crazy if that happened to me 😭. mamaguro is looking down from the pearly white gates IN ANGER at toji’s audacity i just know it.

but now i’m curious on other ideas (that you have) for fics about jjk that you may or may not get to after sea glass gardens.

see the sad thing is that letting a bunch of 16-17 year old bitchy disaster gays discover the magic of teen parenthood is actually a step up because he had already sold Megumi to the Zenin and feral wolverines would be a better alternative to them. This was the best parenting decision toji has ever made.

(Time travel!Megumi: look we don’t have any other options. Anything is better than the Zenin.

Gojo, in the distance: they’re what three? That’s old enough for a red bull

Geto: I will actually kill you over this satoru

Time travel!megumi: *deep breath*)

A loose catalogue of my jjk fics, which may or may not exist one day:

Sea glass gardens verse:

I am forever compelled by the siren call of expanding my fics into universes because one story is never enough for me. I’ve got threeish stories in this universe, with no promises of how many, if any, I’ll write.

1. The Teen Parenting Chronicles: Gojo, Nanami, and Shoko’s expert guide to raising children when you are, in fact, children. Featuring what the fuck happened with the Zenin the first time around.

2. Megumi’s pov of what just happened leading up to sea glass gardens: someone asked me if I’d ever write this and it has the highest chance of existing because I have. Sort of. Started writing it. I have impulse control issues.

3. Okkotsu Yuuta and the world’s longest distance panic attack: crack fic of Yuuta on his study abroad trip becoming increasingly more frantic at the other second year’s updates as to how His Boy’s first year as a jujutsu sorcerer is going. What do you mean sukunas there. What do you mean he doesn’t have a shirt. Well put one on him!

Time travel AU:

1. The Time Traveler’s Guide to Fucking Shit Up And Living Well: following another attempt on their lives by the higher ups, the first year gang is forced into a desperate, high stakes gamble with a time-centric curse that puts their very existences at stake. If they want to survive, they have to complete one task of their choosing in the past before the clock runs out. Their mission?

To punch fushiguros shitty bio dad in the face, something which will surely have no long term consequences on the timeline.

See this one has the most chance of actually existing one day because it is by far my FAVORITE jjk fic I have. It even beats out sea glass gardens. I desperately want to write it.

2. The 2006 Gang and the Art of a Good Union: following a confusing incident with the star plasma vessel and three unknown sorcerers, the 2006 Tokyo jujutsu high first and second year class inexplicably goes off the rails and retires from jujutsu sorcery, claiming that they’ve discovered the magic of teen parenthood and can in no way risk themselves in such a dangerous profession now that they have kids to think about. At least, not with the way things are run now.

No one knows where they got the children from.

3. Toji Fushiguro and the Dead Beat Dad Chronicles: in which toji fushiguro succeeds at being a dead beat baby daddy to two teenaged gay boys and their crew of bitchy lgbtq compadres, who in no way want him to be involved in their children’s lives.

Standalones:

1. “Fushiguro is unleashed in junpei’s school like an invasive superpredator” AU: I’ve talked about this one in way more detail in another post for an ask game, but the idea is that itadori discovers junpeis abuse at school and says Not On His Fucking Watch and escalates the matter to gojo, who decides the funniest possible solution while they try to draw out mahito is to unleash his all star delinquent son into junpeis high school to bully the bullies.

Fushiguro resents this as a problem solving strategy.

2. The Zenin raise Megumi AU: also discussed in more detail in an ask game. In which people took Tsumiki’s little brother from her, but she’s trying to get him back, she promises.

Or, in which the Zenin take megumi, leave tsumiki, and they both spend every day after fighting to get back to the other.

3. Sort of a no curse AU: Itafushi romance story, in which local himbo Itadori Yuuji falls for delinquent Fushiguro Megumi when his grandpa is placed in the room next to Fushiguros comatose sister. Starts as a no curse AU… except there’s totally curses, Tsumikis mom just moved them to Sendai without telling anyone so the Zenin never found Megumi, and he’s just never told anyone about the curses he sees because he’s worried he’s schizophrenic. He thought the shikigami thing was a metaphor for self actualization or something.

4. Fushiguro Megumi and the World’s Most Inconvenient Custody Battle: pre JJK0, Geto decides to be a shithead magic terrorist at a local school that represents all the worst of monkey society: it’s known for a rampant bullying issue, which is a breeding ground for cursed spirits, and it contributes to the risk to jujutsu sorcerers by feeding a local legend of a haunted bridge that could explode into a serious curse any day.

What he didn’t count on? Finding the new Ten Shadows in the student body, who’s fully willing to kamikaze them both if it means saving his sister’s life.

And who doesn’t seem to be aware that he more than has the potential to take suguru in a fight.

In which Fushiguro just wanted to shut up, go to school, and go home, and instead finds himself in a binding vow to give cult life a whirl to save the lives of classmates he doesn’t even like all that much.

It involves oddly more parenting than he expected.

5. Fake Fiancés AU: prodigy and noble prize winning physicist Gojo Satoru, following a very ill advised fuck buddies arrangement with fushiguro toji, has settled down into domestic bliss with the two kids he took from the relationship despite them not, in any way, being related to him. The problem? His ex is back in town. The hot one. The one who broke up with him and started a cult. The one who he wants to convince he got over when he absolutely did not do that.

The solution? Tell everyone he’s happily engaged to Nanami Kento, who cannot express enough how much he does not want him to do that.

… until, all of a sudden, he needs a show of domestic bliss himself. His adoptive son’s older brother, sukuna, has crawled out of the woodwork and decided to make a play for custody himself. And Nanami does not know what Sukuna truly wants, but he knows it does not have Yuuji’s best interests at heart.

I share custody of this story with my best friend, who cocreated it with me over deranged text message. I may convince her to joint write it with me if I ever get her to publish her fanfic.

6. Todo Aoi and Schrodinger’s Boyfriend: Todo’s beloved brother, who is most assuredly a man, suffers some kind of terrible brain damage that leads him to confess he loves an assless boy. Todo cannot abide by this, until it’s pointed out to him that if Fushiguro’s type is his brother, that would make him the most interesting man alive. If it is not, he continues to be a boring and uninteresting boy.

Todo sets off on a mission with two goals: determine if fushiguro megumi is interesting, and get him to do some squats. because there’s simply no ass there.

Fushiguro wonders why his life is suddenly harder.

7. Choso and the Art of Being a Big Brother: choso discovers the truth of kenjaku early and does the only logical thing in response: he kills his father in his sleep, cuts out his brain, and delivers it in a jar to his new brother Itadori Yuuji as the first step in wooing him into domestic sibling love.

Megumi doesn’t know where these people come from. Or why all of them think itadori is their brother.

8. SatoSugu realizes their little boy is all grown up when he gets his first crush on a boy when he meets yuuji.

They do not fucking take it with grace.

Also co-written with my best friend via text message.

9. The instagram chronicles: crack fic in which the jujutsu sorcery personnel crisis gets worse, because nobara Kugisaki keeps trying to hard launch her instagram influencer career, and keeps accidentally making every jujutsu sorcerer instagram famous except for her

10. So I don’t actually ship Yuuta and Megumi, but I do really like the idea of low stakes relationships? Like, especially for teen romances. You tried it, decided you were better off as friends, and just went back to being friends. I just like the idea of fumbling around in relationships and getting a sense of boundaries and what you’re interested in without it being a big, world-shaking romance. It seems like a more realistic portrayal of high school relationships than every one of them being this world-defining mature love.

Pre season 1 but post JJK 0, Yuuta and Megumi dated for maybe a month and half, held hands maybe twice, and decided that they were better off as friends and parted on good terms. The issue?

No one realized they were dating. And when it is realized, everyone thinks their relationship was torpedoed because the second years kept inviting themselves onto their dates.

Cue the jjk high school students trying to amend old mistakes and get Yuuta and Megumi back together, who do not, in fact, want to be back together. Headlining Inumaki Toge, who is half in love with Yuuta and does not know why he’s helping get him together with someone else, and Itadori Yuuji, who is half in love with Megumi and also does not know why he’s helping get him together with someone else.

[kiragecko]

I've talked on here a few times about my youngest's elementary school. We lost our principal (the best in the division) to another school in desperate need during Covid. His replacement ... wasn't very good. Very focused on behaviour, with no interest in WHY the behaviour was happening. Very focused on kids not embarrassing her by acting out, and on ensuring kids don't get "rewarded" for "acting out."

Tiny has trouble recognizing and processing emotions. A lot of kids do, and I think he might also have some alexithymia going on. (He probably wouldn't be diagnosed as autistic, but his whole family's on the spectrum and he definitely fits in with us.) I ended up giving him permission to come home whenever he liked last year, as long as he let the school know what he was doing. It was that, or punish him from running away regularly - and I kind of agreed with his choices. He was getting blame, rather than support.

I've been holding out hope that the middle school, which has improved things exponentially for his brother, would also help Tiny.

The first month has been rough for both of them. It's been a learning curve for Tiny - having to work through things with adults who will listen, rather than run away. Nq's resource teacher reached out to me earlier this week to explain that my kids have different needs, and she thought one of the other guidance counselors might be a better fit for Tiny. So I spent this morning talking to the new lady, getting her up to date on my kid.

It ... feels SO GOOD, you guys! For years now, I've been watching Tiny fall through the cracks - too obedient, and too focused on making adults happy, to push the school into helping him. He doesn't punch people, or barricade himself in rooms, or scream and argue. But he's been HURTING. And the guidance counselor heard me. She acknowledged his struggles were real. She agreed with me that having two parents with bad executive dysfunction WOULD make doing challenging jobs seem really scary, even if he didn't have those issues himself. She promised to support him building those skills, whether the problem was learned or innate. She recognized the challenges of having a brother who grabs a lot of the attention, and whose anger is scary. She validated his big emotions, even though they didn't have obvious causes. She's going to do the work of building a rapport with him before pushing him further out of his comfort zone.

I don't WANT Tiny to need an entire alphabet attached to his name before he gets help! (ADHD, OCD, etc.) This is how schools should work.

It's such a relief.