#this is a call out to fourteen year old me who got sucked up in that discourse btw i am very frustrated in it

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

i’m very passionate about my belief that there’s no topic that it’s immoral or wrong to write about. there’s ways to fuck up any topic, but there’s nothing inherently immoral about writing about anything. and i hate how discourse tends to focus on “is it immoral to write x thing happening?” (no) and not the actually relevant question of. is this a sensitive way of writing x? does this spread harmful misinformation? what reach will this media have, and how does that impact how much scrutiny should be placed on it? what are the intentions of the author, are any potential screwups a mistake? is there a greater artistic meaning for x to be portrayed in an unusual manner? is x seen in an unusual manner by the characters or the narrative? but that’s hard and context sensitive and requires using critical thinking with every piece of media you come across so people separate themselves into pointless groups arguing over something stupid and not the actual ways fiction impacts reality which are far more complex.

[crappymixtape]

baby, it's cold outside

REQUEST → @sattlersquarry, A VERY MERRY MIXTAPE ❝ what about 🎁 exchanging presents with steve?? i just know he’s a thoughtful gift giver! – it's been snowing all day, enough to snap the power lines and make the lights go out, and when steve comes over to build you a fire you can't think of a more perfect time to exchange gifts | ( 0.0k – just honestly pure fluff, modern!steve x reader )

B A B Y, I T ' S C O L D O U T S I D E 🎶 baby it's cold outside, frank sinatra & dorothy kirsten

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know…

Frank Sinatra’s voice drifted across the living room and you shot a glare at the record player.

“Oh, shut up already,” you muttered, glancing out the window to find the snow on the sill had piled up another half inch.

It was going to be historic the weatherman had said yesterday. A storm of which the likes Hawkins hasn’t seen in years! And he wasn’t kidding. It dumped fourteen inches of snow in three hours and even though your crotchety old landlord had dug out the walkway to the street, all that work would be undone in another few hours by the looks of it.

Your mom had called twice already asking if you had enough soup? Enough toilet paper? And, honey, you should have gone to the store yesterday! We could be stuck all weekend! Your retired electrician father lectured you on what to do if you lost power. Something about being able to use the gas stove even if the electric cut out, but honestly all you could think about?

Was Steve.

Steve and how you’d promised him you were going to exchange gifts this weekend before your families got all tied up in Christmas and dinner and ham, and as you looked out the window again a scowl twisted across your lips.

Stupid winter. And snow. And Christmas. And cold. Then, before you could throw more profanities at the weather outside, the lights flickered.

Off, on. Off, on. Off.

Really off.

You sucked in a gasp, heart racing in your chest, hammering against your ribcage as you slowly felt your way through the inky black hallway toward the kitchen where you’d left your phone. Dammit, where was it? You knew there was nothing to be afraid of, but you'd never admit it – still being scared of the dark.

Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz.

Your phone lit up from the counter, giving you just enough light to cut the rest of the distance to the kitchen – thank god – and when you picked it up a single word beamed up at you: Steve.

Your heart raced even faster, but not because of the dark.

“Hey,” your voice was quieter than usual and you instantly felt like an idiot for letting the power outage get the best of you.

“Oh–hey,” his tone edged on concern, “Are you okay? I was just gonna see if you still wanted me to come over.”

“In this weather? No, way. It’s fine. I’m totally fine,” you tried to be confident, but who were you kidding. It sounded pathetic.

“Totally fine?” he echoed back, unconvinced, and it pulled a sigh from your lungs.

“No. The power’s out.”

“Power’s out? Shit. You got a flashlight? Batteries? Maybe some candles? Damn, babe. Is it cold? I’m coming over.”

“Steve wait! I–” but he was already gone.

It didn’t take him long to get there, and he’d never tell you but he blew the stop sign at the corner, the tires on his BMW sliding against the snow before throwing it into park outside your house.

You poked your head out the door as he rummaged around in his trunk, snow piling up again along your walkway. If he stayed even an hour he’d risk getting stuck.

“What are you doing?” you called out into the snow.

“Brought supplies! Get back inside, s’too cold!” he hollered back, your mouth firming into a line.

“I’m not helpless you know!”

“Yeah, yeah. I know!”

Arms full, of what you couldn’t see, Steve elbowed the trunk shut and awkwardly tromped through the snow to your door.

Had you liked winter even a tiny bit more the scene before you might have been pretty. Picturesque. Street lamps dark and roads quiet. Snow falling silently atop the already glittering ground. A beautiful boy coming up your walkway with a bundle of wood under one arm and a blanket under the other. Soft, white snowflakes clinging to the swoop of hair that fell out from under his beanie into his eyes.

Okay, maybe winter wasn’t so bad.

Arms wrapped around your torso, your lips tugged up into a smile as he finally made it to the top of the steps.

“Hi,” came out a little quiet, a little impish, and it made him smile right back.

“Hi.”

“What’s the plan for that?” you pointed at the bundle of wood and his brow furrowed.

“Make a fire? You don’t have any heat, which–” he nudged you with his chest, “–get back inside, you’re letting all the warmth out.”

Steve kicked the door shut behind him before toeing his boots off and walked across the living room to the fireplace. The one you’d never used. Yanking his hat off, he knelt down with the bundle of wood and started to dig around in the rolled up blanket.

First came a rolled up newspaper for kindling and then, as the blanket fell open, a small, brightly wrapped present with a tiny gold bow on top tumbled out.

He remembered.

Your heart stuttered in your chest and it was like he could sense it, looking up at you with those big brown eyes. Hair a mess, lopsided smile pulling at his lips, cheeks rosy from the cold and god, every bit of him was perfection.

“Got a box of matches? Or a lighter?” he asked, hands still gloved as he started crumpling up balls of newspaper and setting them at the bottom of the fireplace.

“Oh–y–yeah,” you stumbled over your words and reached up onto the mantle for the matches. Even after being together for almost two years, he was still making you trip over yourself.

“Here, this should catch easy,” he tipped the tops of the wood together and took the matches from you. Struck one on the brick chimney and brought the flame back to the paper where it caught and crackled. Licked up the wood and washed the room in a warm glow like an Indiana sunset in July.

He grinned up at you, “See?”

“Pretty good, Harrington,” you couldn’t help grinning back, failing to hide the lovesick look on your face and Steve soaked it all up.

“Mmhm,” he hummed proudly and stood from the floor to press a kiss to your forehead before moving to tug off his coat and gloves.

Your boyfriend.

The one who drove across town to build you a fire.

The one who took the time to wrap your present so perfectly.

The one who still wore his old Hawkins Athletics sweater even though it had holes in it.

The one who didn’t give a shit if his thick wool socks were tugged up over the legs of his sweatpants.

The most perfect combination of sexy and dorky and he was all yours.

Grabbing your hand he pulled you into him. Hands wide and warm as they settled on your hips. Pressed his chest to your back and admired his handiwork as the heat from the fire crept up your legs.

“Much better,” he said hooking his chin over your shoulder. Then, tone softening, he murmured, “Sorry your power’s out…didn’t go how you wanted, huh?”

You grumbled a bit, pouted and nestled into him more.

“No.”

“Poor thing,” he kissed you again, pressed his lips to your cheek, and just as you leaned into it he loosened his hold on you. The absence of his touch made you ache, but before you could protest he was bending down to grab the bright, cheerful looking present still sitting next to the fireplace.

Holding it in his hands he turned back to you and smiled. Warm like summer. Eyes like honey, flecks of gold and amber and so full of fondness.

“I’ve been holding onto this since–” his nose scrunched up in thought, “–shit, almost a year?” His cheeks grew pink as he rubbed at the back of his neck and chuckled at himself. A low, warm thing as he held the gift out to you.

Your brows furrowed together in thought as you worked to try and figure out why he was so flustered. What he could have found a year ago? Where had you been?

Eddie’s show at the Tin Bucket? No.

Flying down to visit Robin and Nance in San Diego? Maybe?

Your road trip to Chicago or the train ride to Minneapolis?

Looking up at him your fingers picked at the tape. Slowly unwrapping it as you wracked your brain trying to figure out what it could possibly be and Steve just beamed at you. The same, silly lovesick look you’d just given him, and a small laugh pushed itself from your lungs.

“Steve, what is it?”

“Just open it.”

You huffed a tiny sound of frustration and dropped your gaze back down the box. Fingers moving a bit faster now to unwrap it, pulled the paper away to reveal a small jewelry box and your chest squeezed tight. Eyes flicking up to look at him as his name fell from your lips, a quiet sound of reverence as he bit back a smile.

“Go on,” he whispered, so you clicked open the box and there in the low light of the fire, a tiny gold chain glittered bright in the orange glow.

Your grandmother’s locket.

The one your grandfather had given to her so many Christmases ago.

The one she’d given to you before you and Steve had started dating.

The one you never took off after she passed away that same summer.

The one who’s tiny hinge had cracked, little gold panels swinging broken like the way your heart felt.

The one that sat atop your dresser because it was too expensive to fix and–

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you bit your lips in to try and stifle the strangled sound that had crept up your throat, but Steve was right there. Hands steady as he carefully took the necklace from the box for you.

“Here.”

His fingers brushed softly against your skin as he laced it around the nape of your neck. Closed the hook and gently pressed it to your chest, fixed and polished and shining like it had the first time it’d been gifted.

You could feel yourself falling apart, could feel the tears falling freely down your cheeks now and Steve pulled you in close. Wrapped his arms around you and held you tight, held you together.

“I love you,” you said into his sweater, voice cracked and wobbling as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

crappymixtape™ •steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

[castawaycat]

The Tales of a Little Tiger: Chapter 20- A Growing Family

Summary: America opens up to a caregiver when she discovers that she is a little in the dimension that she is in.

Yelena was the first to notice America sitting against the wall with her legs pulled to her chest. The young girl looked lost and overwhelmed. She walked up to her gently and got down to the girl’s level. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. My name is Yelena and I am y/n’s aunt.” 

America clutched her legs closer to her body. Since coming into this dimension she felt younger and she didn’t understand why. Usually she was able to stay in check with her emotions; but right now all she wanted was to cry. 

Yelena could feel her pheromones activating as she soon realized that the girl in front of her was a little. The girl physically looked to be around fourteen years old, but her little headspace looked to be anywhere between four to six years old. “I know you must be feeling overwhelmed right now. Do you want to go somewhere quieter?” 

America nodded her head and took hold of the blonde woman’s hand. Something inside of her told her that Yelena could be trusted. A strong urge to suck her thumb came over her, she hadn’t sucked her thumb since she was four years old. “What is wrong with me?” She thought to herself. 

Once they walked outside Yelena noticed the girl relax a little. She noticed that the girl was sucking her thumb, but decided not to bring it up. “Do you feel better? Our whole family is pretty loud and it can be a lot to take in. Were you the one to bring Y/n back?” 

The girl nodded her head and took a minute to decide if she wanted to open up. Taking her thumb out of her mouth she nervously looked up at the blonde, “No, y/n was the one who opened the portal. But somehow we found each other and I did my best to take care of her… we found this place where there was a different Wanda and she took care of us.” 

“A different Wanda? What was she like?” Yelena asked curiously. 

“She was very nice and warm. She had a husband named Vision and two sons named Tommy and Billy. They even had a dog named Sparky!” America said excitedly. “The Wanda there offered me to stay with their family… but I wanted to make sure y/n made it back home to her moms.” 

“That Wanda sounds like she has a wonderful life. I think you are very brave to bring y/n back home. Where is your home?” Yelena asked gently as she could see sadness spread on the girl’s face. 

America looked down at the ground as she could feel tears fall down her cheeks. “It’s gone. I have no home.” For the first time since everything happened sobs erupted from her small body. “My moms are gone and I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I feel so small and alone.” 

Yelena spoke softly in a comforting voice as she gently pulled the girl into her arms. “I’m so sorry about your moms and your home. I know everything is new and scary, but you’re safe here. There’s nothing wrong with you, here in this dimension I believe you are what’s called a, “little.” It basically means that your headspace drops to a young child or infant even if your body is older.” Yelena explained calmly as she could feel the girl cling to her shirt. 

America took in the blonde’s words and explanation. It would take some getting used to for sure; but now being in Yelena’s arms she didn’t feel so lost and hopeless. Her sobs died down as she rested her head on Yelena’s shoulder and sucked on her thumb. Her voice dropped into a small quiet one, “wanna stay with you.” 

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

The blonde’s heart melted when she felt the girl fully drop into a little headspace. “Don’t worry little one, I'm not going anywhere.” She said as she held the small girl in her arms. After a while Yelena noticed that the girl had fallen asleep in her arms, she gently picked her up and carried her back inside. 

You had also fallen asleep in your mama Natasha’s arms after she had breastfed you. You felt so much better to finally be back home. 

Tony walks up to Natasha and Wanda, “Bruce and I created this bracelet for y/n. It will help keep her powers controlled, the bracelet will grow as she grows. We suspect that y/n’s powers were manifesting and that was why she became sick, and why she was able to open up a portal.” He says as he carefully placed the bracelet on your little arm. The bracelet glows a light blue as it syncs with your powers. 

“Thanks Tony, you have no idea how thankful we are.” Wanda says as she gets up to hug him tightly. 

Natasha looks around for the girl who carried you through the portal. She smiles when she sees her sister holding the girl in her arms. “You might need to create a bracelet for the young girl as well.” Natasha says as she points over to where Yelena is sitting. 

Tony nods his head in agreement. “Any idea of what her powers are? From the looks of it, she may also be a little.” He says as he observes the girl sitting in Yelena’s lap. 

Yelena feels like she's being watched, “take a picture it will last longer.” She says as she notices her sister and Tony are watching her. 

Natasha transfers you into Wanda’s arms so that she can go talk with her sister. She can feel Yelena’s caregiver pheromones and takes note that her sister is already forming a bond with the girl in her lap. “I’m sorry sestra. Tony and I were just discussing if he needs to create a bracelet to help control her powers like y/n. Do you know her name and what powers she has?” 

The blonde relaxes a little as she shakes her head, “She hasn’t told me her name yet. All I know is that her home is gone and so are her mothers. As for her powers I have no idea.” Yelena took a minute to think before continuing, “I want to keep her in my care. She seems to trust me and I can get answers to a lot of our questions.” She suggests as she rubs soothing circles on the girls back. 

Tony nods his head in approval, “I think that’s the best call. The calmer the girl is, the calmer her powers will be. Fury wants us to do tests on her to determine if her powers are a threat. It’s standard protocol.” 

Yelena nods her head in understanding. “I will be with her through all of the testing procedures. I’ve made a promise to her that she is safe. I won’t let anything happen to her.” 

Natasha smiles warmly at her sister, “looks like you’ve found yourself your own little. Have you told Kate?” 

“No, all this just happened. It’s happening so quickly, but I already feel so attached and protective over her.” Yelena spoke honestly about her own emotions. Was this what being a caregiver felt like? Was she already bonding to the girl? 

Just as Natasha was about to respond she notices Kate and Lucky walk into the room.

“Hey, there you are. I couldn’t find you earlier. Oh, who is this little one?” Kate asks as she notices the little girl in her girlfriend’s arms. Lucky walks over and sniffs the girl. 

“I’m not sure what her name is but she’s the one that helped bring y/n back home. She will be staying with us while we figure everything out. I know I should’ve talked to you first, but everything happened so fast and she dropped into a little headspace with me… She’s all alone and she’s scared.” Yelena says to Kate as she searches the brunette’s face. 

Kate smiles warmly at Yelena, “are you telling me that we have our very own little?!” Kate asks excitedly as she feels her chest fill with joy. 

Yelena nods her head, “for now yes. It will be the girls decision if she wants to stay with us permanently. I don’t want her to feel like she doesn’t have a choice.” 

The bubbly brunette leans down and kisses Yelena on the lips, “I’m so excited! I’m going to get a room ready for her.” Love and hope fills her heart as she wonders what life will look like for them now that they may have found their very own little to care for. 

America wakes up and looks up curiously at Kate, she clings to Yelena. 

“It’s alright little one. This is my girlfriend Kate and our dog Lucky.” Yelena says as she introduces the girl to Kate. 

“Hello, I’m Kate. What’s your name, little one?” 

The girl gives a shy wave and answers in a quiet voice, “my name is America. Can I pet your dog?” 

“Hi America, it’s nice to meet you. You can absolutely pet Lucky.” Kate says as she calls over Lucky and shows America how to pet him. 

The cutest giggles come from America as Lucky licks her face when she pets him. She starts to relax with Kate and Yelena as they tell her that she will be staying with them. 

Kate is surprised when she sees America walk over and sit in her lap. Her caregiver pheromones activate as she feels love and protective of the little girl she has just met.

[justasimpleton-26]

A talk amongst bandmates

This fanfic is brought to you by my imagination. Brain, please let me have peace, I have 3 other novels I need to finish.

It hadn't taken much to convince them to leave their dimension and come help. The fact of the matter was, the moment Peni jumped in after being summoned by Spider-Ham, she'd designed the bracelets that allowed them to jump through dimensions and to control their atoms from offing themselves just by looking at Gwen's watch. And okay, she even got help from Spyder Byte, one of the newest additions to their rag-tag of a team. Probably what blew Gwen's mind was the friendship that was slowly brewing between Spider-Noir, and Spiderpunk. Peter Benjamin had been transfixed in trying to understand Hobie's colors. The nineteen-year-old detective would talk to Peni or Peter Porker and kind of just...gravitate to Hobie. It helped that some of their outlooks in life were similar too, just varying degrees of emotion. As the team began to familiarize themselves with each other, Peni broke away from the group, heading over to Gwen. The young fourteen-year-old had looked different since the last time they had seen one another; Peni's hair had grown a bit, and the usual bubbly exterior had been more subdued. There was a more focused look in her dark brown eyes, and now that Gwen could properly get a good look at her, she could see how tired Peni looked. Gwen was concerned and curious; what had Peni gone through in the time that they had separated and gone their own ways? "What happened to Miles?" Peni asked, and the question made Gwen freeze. Of course, Peter Benjamin, Peter Porker, and Peni had gathered back together without asking, but now that everyone was starting to come together as a team...questions were going to be asked. And Gwen could feel her throat close up, not wanting to give answers just yet. But Peni was staring at her, and soon the whole group had moved their attention from one another to her. Even little May-Day who had been pulling on Peter Noir's goggles seemed to feel the tension and settled back in Peter B.'s arms. Gwen sucked in a breath, and she told the whole story from the beginning.... 20 minutes later...

It was an uproar. Hobie had to hold back Peter Noir. Peter Porker was staring at Gwen and Peter B. as if he didn't understand who he was seeing. Pavi seemed nervous as he helped keep Spider Noir back. The only one who didn't seem to react as badly was Spyder-Byte, and that was only because she didn't understand much of what had happened. "You should have called me! Once you had your hands on that watch, you should have visited me, o-or one of the others." Peni cried out. "Peni, I wasn't allowed to go out on my own. My mission was to track down Spot and take him down before he could affect any other one of the timelines." Gwen explained as she knelt down to Peni's gaze. "I wasn't even supposed to meet Miles-" "Because he's the original anomaly, isn't he? He's the reason this 'Miguel' doesn't want him around or even part of the team." Peter Noir spat out. He'd calm down enough that Hobie had let him go. But Pavi was on the other side of him, so just in case, Hobie had back-up. "I can't believe you trusted that vampire freak in the first place." Peni replied, leaning away from Gwen. "He just seemed to know what he was doing, and had been doing this-" "Hold on. Peter B., you were also aware of this and you did nothing? Why, are you not a parent? Or do you not just like Miles?" Peter Noir spoke up, cutting off whatever it was that Gwen was going to say. Gwen could feel the dread and the anxiety churn in her belly. She took a deep breath as she thought about her response. "Look guys," Spyder Byte interfered, "You all have too many high expectations for Gwen. And I know, it's because we hold each other up to a high standard, being Spider People and all. But you have to remember, we all make mistakes. Gwen is actually trying to fix this one though. That's why she called you all up. She trusts all of you-all of us-to go and save Miles, stop the Spot, and fix this damn multiverse. Now, let's get started, shall we?" They murmured their agreement, heading out before Gwen. Gwen lingered back, but she smiled. The tension that had been there before had disappeared, and it was now time to get to work.

[thatssonanii]

Chapter Three

Warnings: Cursing, Discipline, 18+ (excuse any typos)

Masterlist

Chapter Two

"Look who remembers they have a mother on the other side of the country," Nadine chuckled into the receiver, "Been a whole three months since I've heard from you, Moriah DeBreaux."

Moriah's sigh floated through her lips. "Mama, I texted you at least once or twice a day when I'm not working."

"Hearing your voice and texting are not the same thing. So why haven't I heard from you?"

Zilla looked over at his girlfriend from the road, putting a comforting hand on her thigh. He felt bad being the one that told her to call but he knew she couldn't avoid Nadine forever. 

"Between work and Zilla, I've just been a little busy trying to get into our routine. I'm not doing it on purpose. I'm sorry for not calling."

Nadine hummed at the sound of his name. "So you and him are settling in fine then I suppose?"

"Yes, Mama, we've been fine."

"I should say that's good," she mumbled, "And the furniture? It's still all okay? Your father insisted on picking the sofa but I had final say."

Before Moriah could stop him, Zilla pulled the phone from her as they came to a red light. He held it away from her, pushing her hands away from him as he laughed. 

"I'm glad you asked, Ms. Nadine. The sofa is real nice, came in handy until we got our actual bed."

"What does that mean, Isayah?"

He laughed seeing Moriah mouth 'no' to him. Quietly, he told her to relax as he drove through the green light. 

"That means that I understood the assignment from the condoms to the sofa, you wanted to make sure we was safely and comfortably gettin busy," he explained ignoring his girlfriend hitting his arm, "And I wanted to let you know we did just that. You should definitely get one of them sofas for ya house too should you decide to date again."

The line went silent, Zilla had to hold back how loudly he wanted to laugh while Moriah sat mortified and laughing in the passenger seat. 

"Tell Moriah I will talk to her later."

Zilla chuckled, "Yes ma'am, Ms. Nadine. Forreal though, think about gettin the sofa. Aight?"

When the phone hung up, he passed it back to her still laughing. She snatched it and tossed it into her purse. 

"I'm gonna beat ya ass in your sleep tonight. You just wait. Why would you say that to her? Why?"

He shrugged playfully. "Sometimes you gotta get people before they get you, Fat. You know she was bout to start with you."

"I know but it's cause she was upset I hadn't called her in three months."

"Man," he stressed, sucking his teeth, "Fuck all that. If she wanted to talk to you, she woulda called you. Did she call you?"

"No, but."

"Ain't no but. If she wanted to talk, she woulda called. Everything ain't ya fault. You hear me?"

"I hear you, Zay. You're right."

He squeezed her thigh lovingly before returning his hand to the steering wheel. "Relax, don't even think about it. Gone and take a nap, we got like 2 more hours to we get to Pensacola."

"I'm not," she paused to yawn, "I'm not tired though."

He laughed, "Stop bein so damn hard headed and take the nap."

She mimicked him as she got comfortable, he reached in the backseat passing her his blanket. He glanced at her to make sure she was covered up saying softly that he loved her. 

Clack

Clack

Clack, Clack

Huffing, fourteen year old Moriah snatched her covers off and went to let up her window. She poked her head out, not at all surprised to see Zilla smiling up at her. 

"Do you know what time it is?" She asked in a hushed tone. 

He shrugged, "It's like one something. So what?"

"One in the morning, Isayah. I was sleep, you should be sleep."

Again he shrugged. "Couldn't sleep and you ain't answer ya phone so I came here."

"Because I was sleeping like a normal person," she frowned, "How did you even get out?"

His smile was back, although this time it resembled a sneaky grin.

"Cause I'm me. Come on."

"My mama is gonna kill me if she catches me. No."

"She ain't gon catch you, ima have you back in time like always."

Groaning, Moriah quietly shut her window and went to get her vans. She didn't bother putting anything over her pajamas or taking off her scarf but she did fix up her bed before quietly leaving her bedroom. When she got downstairs, she grabbed them both juices and eased out of the back door. She passed him a juice and stared at him.

"What I do?" He asked opening his juice. 

"Don't play with me," she warned, "I'm out here. What do you want?"

He grabbed her hand, pulling her along with him out the back gate. They walked down the sidewalk in silence besides the neighborhood dogs barking. He would squeeze her hand every now and then. 

"I got a competition next weekend. You coming?" 

"Where at?"

"Dallas. Your mom said she would bring you, if you wanna go."

He shrugged, starting to shake his head. 

"You haven't been to one in months, I really want you to come."

He glanced at her, coming to a stop under one of the street lights. Standing in front of him, she reached up to fix his hair a slight frown on her face. 

"I'll see what I can do."

Moriah's face completely dropped at his words. She knew what that meant and it wasn't what she wanted to hear. 

"Just tell me no cause that's what that means. What girl is it this time? Or is it your new friends again?"

"Ain't no girl, Fat."

"So it's those boys then. You'd rather get in trouble then come support me. I gotta be in trouble all the time to get you to hang out with me or something?"

He frowned down at her. "I ain't say shit about gettin in trouble. I just already made plans with them."

"Plans to do what," she asked, folding her arms across her trouble. She scoffed when he didn't answer. "Exactly. You only wanna hang out with me when they don't need you or in the middle of night. I barely even see you in school anymore, Zay. If you don't wanna be friends no more, just say that."

Realizing she was about to walk away, Zilla pulled her back to him and held on so she couldn't move. He leaned back against the street light, hugging her tight. 

"I know it ain't that easy to get rid of you," he joked. "Ima make more time for you but you not my only friend, Fat."

She scoffed trying to pull away. "Those boys ain't your friends. The ones from your neighborhood and school are but then other ones ain't."

He huffed not taking his arms from around her. "Either way, you ain't the only one but you are the most important even though I ain't acting like it. Ima do better wit you. I promise. Aight?"

"And you promise to come to school," she added staring up at him. 

He chucked. "Not every day but I promise."

"And you're gonna come to my competition next weekend?"

"Only if you come to a party with me tomorrow."

She huffed playfully. "Fine, I'll go but you better come. I'm not playing."

"Bet," he yawned, "Let's go to my crib."

Knowing she shouldn't, Moriah walked to his house with him talking the whole way there. He kept hold of her hand, keeping watch of any danger. When they got to the house one of his brothers was in the kitchen, he made eye contact with them both then checked the clock. He questioned the teenagers but didn't dig too deep into it. 

Making it to his room, he got comfortable in his basketball shorts then got in his bed beside Moriah. He pulled her close to him. 

"Why you like bein bad?" She asked softly. 

"Ion like it, it just happens."

"You're making the choice though, Zay." She sighed thinking of her next words. "You made the choice to not hang out with me and leave me alone at school. Pretty soon you're gonna leave me alone out here."

He turned her over to face him, she wasn't surprised to see him frowning. 

"What you mean?"

"It ain't a secret, Zilla. Your mom tells you all the time if you don't stop you're gonna go to jail. The stuff that you're doing is gonna put you there and you're gonna leave me."

Although it annoyed him to constantly hear that, he didn't like the way it affected the people around him but it wasn't enough to make him stop. Placing a kiss to her forehead, he hugged her briefly. 

"I ain't goin nowhere, man. Ima be right here so we can do the shit you planned for us." He chuckled seeing her smile. 

"Promise?"

He had no idea if he could keep it. 

"Promise."

Taking a chance, Zilla captured her lips in a kiss. It was something he wanted to do for a while but was never quite sure if she felt the same way. The chemistry in that moment felt like the right time, her kissing him back confirmed his thoughts. He pulled away first then kissed her forehead. 

"Go to sleep. Ima make sure you up in time to get home."

Around 8am, the teenagers were being woken up by hits from a broom. They jumped out of their sleep, looking around in confusion and blocking the hits. Leata landed a few more smacks with the broom.

"Do you know how crazy you two have made everybody?" She yelled. "Your mother has been panicking cause she woke up and you weren't in your bed, Moriah! Your father is trying to get here from Georgia and you're in my house!"

Zilla stood from the bed, rubbing at his eyes. "It ain't her fault, Ma. It's mine, my bad."

"My bad?" She repeated in disbelief and hit him a few more times. "And no worries, I already know it's your fault but she knew better too! What were you thinking sneaking out, Moriah?"

Moriah fumbled with her nails nervously, not wanting to get hit again. "I usually make it back in time. We don't usually come here."

"Usually? Oh so you two have been sneaking out for a while then! What is wrong with you two? What if something happened?"

Zilla sucked his teeth. "Man, I got her. Wasn't nothin gon happen to her."

"I've had it up to here with you and your attitude, Isayah. You two were wrong," Leata stressed. "Especially knowing that her mother doesn't even want you two bein friends! Just … get your stuff, I'm taking you home, Moriah. And you're going too and you're gonna apologize to her mother."

When they pulled up to Moriah's house, Nadine was waiting on the porch with a police officer. All three collectively sighed, as Leata put the car in park she turned to look at the teenagers. 

"I don't want any attitude out of either of you, it's only gonna make this worse. Apologize then keep your mouths shut. Are we clear?" She waited for them to nod and got out of the car. "Nadine, I'm so sorry about this. I had no idea she was at my house."

Nadine flew off of the porch to her daughter, frantically checking her for bruises and any signs of distress. The officer stepped off the porch going to the group.

"Everything seems to be alright here. Call if you need anything else ma'am."

"Everything is not alright," she spat, "That boy kidnapped my daughter and I want something done about it."

The officer held back what he wanted to say instead tried to be diplomatic. "Ms. DeBreaux, were you at their house against your will? Did you want to be there?"

"I wanted to be there," she said softly. 

"Did this young man coerce you out of your home?" Moriah shook her head. "Okay so Mrs. DeBreaux, there's nothing I can do as she was not kidnapped. The only option you would have, I don't think you would like much."

"Ms. Parker. And what's that?"

"My apologies, Ms. Parker. Taking her in as a runaway child and charging her but that's only going to affect your daughter. I cannot take him unless his mother decides on that." The officer explained gently. 

Nadine looked between the teenagers as she thought over her choices then a smirk appeared on her face. 

"Can you hold her while I decide if I wanna press charges or not?"

"Mama!" Moriah shrieked, terror was written all over her face. 

"Now, Nadine, a simple punishment will do." Leata interjected trying to help. 

"With all due respect, I won't be taking parental advice from someone with a child like yours," she spat. "Now, can you or can't you hold her, Officer?"

He sighed, giving Moriah a quick, apologetic look. "Yes ma'am, we can hold her for up to 72 hours."

"Mama, don't do that." She pleaded starting to tear up. 

Zilla scrunched his face up, "That's some bullshit. It ain't even that serious."

Leata quickly shushed her son. 

"I'm nipping it in the bud now, something your mother should've done, Isayah." Nadine smiled widely. "Take her, Officer. Her father and I need to decide what to do with her."

Taking out his cuffs, the officer waited for her to give her phone to her mother then reluctantly cuffed her. She cried as he walked her to his patrol car, he helped her in then went back to Nadine. Zilla went to his patrol car to reassure her through the window, trying to get her to stop crying. 

"Ms. Parker, if you take longer than 72 hours the decision will no longer be yours and she'll be charged as a runway."

"Let's say we decide to move ahead, what kind of punishment will she get?"

He cleared his throat, trying to bite his tongue. "Anywhere from community service to a year in the detention center, ma'am."

"Thank you. You can take her now, I need time to think," she informed him politely. 

When the patrol car drove away, Leata stayed put to talk to Nadine. She knew that the teenagers shouldn't be sneaking out but Nadine was pushing it. 

"I know that you're not fond of their friendship and I know that what they did was wrong but locking her up is too far. That girl has never been in trouble," Leata spoke calmly, "You're going to traumatize her if you leave her in there for three days and if you press charges. This is not right, Nadine."

Nadine chuckled, "She wasn't worried about being traumatized when she was laid up all night with your son so I'm not gonna worry about it now."

"Nadine, really? This is a lot even for you."

"Moriah is my child, not yours. You don't get a say in how I raise my kids, Leata."

Moriah's father, Hassan flew in that night and woke up early to get his daughter out of holding. She cried in the backseat the whole way back to the house, going straight to her room when they got back. Hassan argued with his ex-wife after finding out that she was still entertaining the idea of pressing charges. The only way he got her to change her mind was by threatening to take his daughter with him back to Georgia. He stuck around for two weeks as support for his daughter, having a few conversations with Leata and Zilla while he was there against Nadine's wishes. 

After ending the call with Moriah, Nadine facetimed her ex-husband to fill him in on the conversation. Her blood was boiling from the things Zilla had said to her. When he answered, she could tell that she had interrupted him working but she didn't care.

"What's goin on, Nadine? Everything alright?" He asked looking at his computer screen.

"It would be nice to have your attention while I speak, Hassan."

With a shake of his head, Hassan did a few more things on his computer then turned to look at his ex-wife's face on his phone. "You've got my attention. What's up?"

"Your daughter's boyfriend is what's up," she says with an eye roll, "She finally calls after three months and he interrupts our conversation to tell me about them gettin busy. The nerve of that boy."

He chuckled at the sour face expression she had. "He just said that out of the blue or were you bothering Moriah?"

"You think you know everything. All I did was ask her how the sofa was working out for them."

"And I'm assuming before that you had something smart to say about him or their relationship."

"I … that's not the point," she said pointedly. "That boy told me he understood the assignment from me giving them condoms and a sofa."

"Both of which you gave them to be a smartass, Didi. They would've had a much smaller sofa if I let you pick it." He shook his head letting a soft chuckle pass his lips. "He's not gonna let you keep poking at them or Moriah, I keep telling you that."

She scoffed, "He needs to respect his elders. That boy is disrespectful."

"Respect is given, Didi. You haven't given him a reason to respect you, especially with the way you've been disrespecting him and his mama for years. He's bit his tongue because he loves Moriah but she's also gonna be the reason he stops biting his tongue."

When the call went silent, Hassan turned back to his computer to computer his work while he waited for her next thought to come through. He had been trying to explain to Nadine that trying to keep the young couple apart or drive a wedge in between them was going to backfire on her for years but he knew his ex-wife didn't understand that. Not yet at least.

"You need to go down there and check that apartment out, Hassan. Check on our baby."

He laughed, "What do you think he's doing to her? You know our child, if he wasn't doing right and if the apartment wasn't up to par … she would not be there."

"Will you just please go? It'll make me feel better."

"Or you could go yourself, Didi."

"Hassan, please."

Glancing at the screen, he sighed seeing her slight pout that reminded him of their daughter. 

"I'll see what I can do but I'm not getting in their business."

She smiled widely. "Thank you. I owe you."

When the couple got to Pensacola, Zilla drove them to his cousin's house where they would be staying for the weekend. Jon and Trinity invited them to get them out and around family for a little while. Moriah had met them a few times before, they made her feel apart of the family just like the rest of his family had. 

"How you like that hospital, sis?" Trinity asked as she braided Moriah's hair in the living room. 

"It's cool so far, most of my coworkers are nice." Moriah responded excitedly. "I didn't really think I would like the emergency department but it's growing on me."

"Where did you wanna be?"

"Pediatrics or Labor and Delivery," she shrugged, "I'll get there eventually though."

Trinity hummed out a response finishing a braid. "How have you and Zilla been? I know yall get lonely by yourselves."

"Not lonely but it's definitely different not having his mom around. I didn't realize how much the both of us spent with her," she chuckled. "Our first like week or two, we couldn't sleep without talking to her. It was crazy."

Trinity laughed, touching Moriah's shoulder. "I can't even judge yall, I would be the same way. How's he liking it so far?"

"He likes it a lot and he made a friend but I can tell he gets sad sometimes."

"Cause of his dad?"

She nodded. "Yeah, he wants to share it with him and train to him but can't and that upsets him."

"He talk to you about it?"

"Not in detail. He told me what I just told you and that was the end of it. He's not great with that kind of emotion."

Hearing their other halves voices, both of them stopped talking and waited. Jon went to mess with Moriah's hair and she slapped his hands away playfully.

"You just like Zay," she laughed, "Annoying as hell. Move."

He put a hand to his chest acting as if he was offended. "I invite you to my house and you treat me that way. You sleeping on the patio, Zilla can sleep inside."

Zilla started to laugh until he made eye contact with his girlfriend. 

"That's funny, Fatu?"

Zilla tried to stop laughing. "I mean."

Trinity laughed, "Think carefully about your answer."

"You gon let Jon put me outside?"

"Aye, uce, don't let them punk you like that," Jon joked hitting Zilla's chest, "I got yo back."

"Don't get yourself in trouble, Jon." Trinity added.

Jon sucked his teeth playfully nudging his cousin. "Man, come on. Tryna get us in trouble. We'll be back, goin to the store."

Later that night, the couple cuddle in bed in their guest room after the long day. Zilla and Jon cooked on the grill for everybody then they ended the night with a couple of movies. 

"You tired?" He asked softly. 

"No but I'm not having sex with you in your cousin's house," she chuckled. 

He kissed her face then her neck. "I wasn't even finna say that but if I was, you act like we ain't did that in both our people houses before."

"Nobody asked you to bring that to. What you want though?"

"Just wanted to talk, if that's cool with you, fun police."

She laughed pinching his arm. "I am not. Talking is fine though, I'm listening, babe."

"I know I fucked up the plan you had for us gettin put away for all that time and I'm sorry for that," he paused to kiss the side of her face, "Ima make it up to you. Ima take us around the world, put you in a big ass house just like this and get you a nice ass car."

She smiled a little. "I don't need all that."

"I know but you deserve it though. Ima put a rock on your finger too. And you know what's gon happen after that?"

"Tell me."

He moved his hand to her stomach, rubbing it. "We gon have lil Zillas. I was think bout 4 or 5 should be enough."

She laughed softly putting her hand on top of his. "Who is about to push 5 babies out? I think we need to discuss that a little more."

"You gon push em out and ima be right there with you for all of it. Where you wanna live at? Texas? Here?"

She hummed thinking it over, "Uuh unless your mom is gonna stay near us wherever we go then we'll be in Texas."

"Cool with me," he responded going back to kissing her neck, "Zilla gon spend the rest of my life takin care of ya hard headed ass. Zilla got you forever. Aight?"

"I know, babe."

He pulled her closer, holding her tighter. "Just bare wit me, Fat. Ion know the right answers all the time but ima try."

"As long as your trying, that's all I care about, Zay."

Down the hall, the older couple was still getting ready for bed and engaged in conversation. There was more to their invitation than they told the young couple. 

"She mention her mama to you, Trin?"

Trinity shook her head trying to tie her scarf around her head. "Nope. We talked about everything except her mom."

"Mmm," he hummed going to finish brushing his teeth, "Zilla definitely had something to say about her. And I'm sorry but he better than me, I would've been cussed her ass out."

She fixed her scarf then turned to her husband, "That bad? What he say about her?"

"Just that she always got some smart shit to say about him and they relationship and that she pick at Moriah, tryna make her feel bad."

"I'm not accusing him of anything but did he cheat on her something? Why doesn't she like him?" Trinity asked going to their closet for her pajamas. "As long as it's been and she still don't like him. It's gotta be something."

"That's just it, he ain't did no shit like that to her. They ain't get together to after he got out."

She hummed. "Maybe it's the prison thing."

"Nope," he shook his head, "She ain't like him way before that. When they was teenagers, she was about to send that girl to the detention center just to keep them apart."

After a few moments, Trinity emerged from the closet with a frown on her face. Jon explained the whole situation to her, making sure not to miss a detail. 

"That was a bit much. I get it she snuck out but to go that far is crazy."

"Exactly," Jon exclaimed, "Uce think it's something to do with her dad and their divorce."

Trinity stared at her husband for a moment before it clicked. "You want me to ask her about their divorce?"

"Yeah, see what happened. It could help."

"I'll ask but after I do the most important thing. She needs to put her foot down with her mom and put down some boundaries." 

He nodded going over to his side of the bed. "Cause she him ruin their relationship and ion wanna see that. I like her and Uce together, they cute."

"And they really love each other. You can tell."

He pulled the covers down on his wife's side so she could get into bed. "So the plan for tomorrow is to get her to talk about her mama and ima get his ass to open up a lil more about his feelings. Deal?"

[duhragonball]

Neon Genesis Evangelion 04

"We have to use fourteen-year-olds to pilot the Evas. And we have to make rainbow scans of their skinny little butts! The future of mankind depends on it!"

This episode, Shinji runs away from home. Or maybe he's going back to wherever he lived before he came to Tokyo-3, so he's running away to home? He's running away is the point here.

Misato isn't very surprised to discover this, but she's still frustrated. Then Shinji's classmates, Suzuhara and the other guy... I was gonna look him up but I looked up Suzuhara and just got spoiled so fuck that. We're calling him Big Rigg Mahoney now. Yeah, Suzuhara's taller, but I don't care. We're going with it.

Anyway, Suzuhara and Big Rigg Mahoney show up at Misato's apartment because they haven't seen Shinji at school for days. Suzuhara wants to apologize for punching Shinji in Episode 3. He only did it because he blamed Shinji for fighting the Angel so close to the city, which got his sister hospitalized, but his sister chewed him out for this, and he and Big Rigg Mahoney got a first-hand look at what it's like for Shinji when he's piloting that Eva. That's his motivation, Big Rigg Mahoney's mostly involved because he likes war movies and likes playing soldier, and he's fascinated by the Evas, NERV Agency, etc.

They did not expect a grown woman to be living in Shinji's apartment, so they hand her his assignments from school and leave, but now they think Shinji is even cooler, because he's a badass pilot and he's living with a hot babe.

Let me get this out of the way: I did find this episode much more enjoyable than the last one. I had a good feeling about it, since the next-episode preview promised that Shinji would run away, which was encouraging because at least Shinji would have to make a conscious decision and act upon it, like some sort of fictional character might do. But then it occurred to me that maybe Suzuhara and Big Rigg Mahoney might have kidnapped Shinji and told him to run away, in a misguided attempt to help him. And Shinji would be like "hai!" and go AWOL simply because someone told him to. That would suck, so when these two show up early in the episode and they have no idea where he went either, it was very reassuring.

Not that it's too much of a change for Shinji. He's off on his own, but he's still mopey and dead inside. He rides the subway all the way to the end of the line, listening to his playlist of "Track 25" and "Track 26" over and over again the whole way. Then he realizes he has to "go back". I'm not sure what that means, but I assume he's talking about going back to Tokyo-3, since he doesn't seem to have a destination in mind. And yet, he's in no hurry, stopping off at a movie theater that's running some sort of film festival of Second Impact documentaries.

He watches a couple making out in the theater. I don't know if he's envious or fascinated or disgusted, or he just doesn't know what else to do.

Meanwhile, Misato discusses Shinji's disappearance with Ritsuko. We flash back to the aftermath of the battle in Episode 3. Misato had ordered Shinji to retreat before his Eva ran out of power, but Shinji went gonzo and killed the Angel instead. She scolded him for ignoring her orders, but he acted cavalier about it, reminding her that they won, so it doesn't really matter. She warned him that his attitude will only get him killed, and he replied that his attitude doesn't matter, because he's the only one who can pilot the Eva. It's either Shinji or Rei (who's still injured), or nobody, so they might as well let Shinji fuck around and find out. If he gets himself killed they're no worse off than if he doesn't pilot the Eva at all.

In hindsight, Misato is kind of relieved he's gone, because at least this way he won't bring this fatalistic mentality onto the battlefield. The disconnect here is that she's some sort of career soldier, with loyalties and duties and causes to respect. Shinji got drafted last month, and he doesn't want to do this and he's only participating because he's the indispensible man. But Shinji hates himself, so if he gets killed through incompetence, it's no better or worse than winning every battle, or abandoning his post. It's all the same to him, he's got nothing to gain or lose here.

Meanwhile, Shinji happens upon Big Rigg Mahoney, who's playing soldier out in the middle of nowhere. He's got a uniform and a tent and everything. When he spots Shinji he invites him over for whatever he's cooking, and they hang out. See, this is nice. Shinji took matters into his own hands, and now he's hanging out with his friend, Big Rigg Mahoney.

Finally, a bunch of goons from NERV show up and take Shinji into custody. The next day, Suzuhara is upset to hear the Big Rigg Mahoney let them take Shinji without a fight, but come on, man. Big Rigg Mahoney didn't get this far in life without learning to know when to fight and when to take it easy.

Back at the base, Shinji expects Misato to scold him, but she doesn't. She just asks him if he enjoyed his time away, and he says he doesn't know. Classic Shinji. They continue their argument from before. He doesn't want to pilot the Eva because he sucks at it and it's scary and painful, but he doesn't think it's right to leave it all up to Rei and the others. Misato tells him that has nothing to do with it. If he's only forcing himself to go along with this, then he'll never be in the right mindset to do any good as an Eva pilot. Better if he just calls it quits now and forgets he ever got involved.

Meanwhile, Shinji's dad could not give a shit less whether Shinji leaves or not. He's already figuring out what to do when he's gone. If Shinji won't pilot Eva Unit 01, then they'll just reconfigure it for Rei. Apparently that's a thing they can do now. I thought each pilot had their own specific Eva Unit they were bonded to, but I guess not. According to this conversation, Rei was injured while piloting Unit 00, but it wasn't in combat. They were just running experiments on Unit 00 to get it working, and there must have been an accident.

So some of this is becoming clearer. We still don't know why only certain teenagers can pilot the Evas, but we do know that there are others besides Rei and Shinji. They just haven't located very many candidates, so it's not like Shinji is completely irreplaceable. And Rei is recovering, so there's that. And Shinji can resign whenever he wants. He only got arrested last night because he left without resigning. Today, he's decided to go through with it, and NERV doesn't seem sorry to see him go. Shinji asks if he can say farewell to Misato, but they're like "You quit, so you're not authorized to see her." At this point all NERV cares about is escorting him off their base.

Suzuhara and Big Rigg Mahoney do show up to see him off, though. Suzuhara finally apologizes to Shinji for punching him, and insists that Shinji punch him back to restore his honor. Shinji reluctantly agrees, and at first he kind of holds back, but then Suzuhara tells him to hit like he means it, and he does. See, this is nice.

Shinji apologizes for leaving Tokyo-3 in a lurch, but the boys are used to classmates moving out, and they know how hard it is for Shinji to pilot the Eva, so they don't blame him for quitting. Suzuhara promises to beat up anyone who doesn't respect Shinji's decision to leave.

Finally the NERV goons decide it's time for him to go to the train station, but he pulls away just long enough to tell Suzuhara and Big Rigg Mahoney that he has been cowardly and weak after all. It's like he's having second thoughts about the whole thing.

Back at the base, Misato mulls the whole thing over, and it finally hits her that this is how Shinji expresses his feelings. He runs away and waits for someone to care that he's gone. Realizing this, she rushes to the train station to see him, but she sees the train pull out just as she arrives. For a second she thinks she was too late, but then when the train is gone...

They see each other on either side of the tracks. Shinji couldn't go through with leaving, I suppose because Suzuhara and Big Rigg Mahoney were enough to make him question his decision. But now he looks up and sees Misato cared about him too, and that puts him over the hump.

Then Shinji declares that he's home, and Misato replies "Welcome home." And that's a beautiful moment. Everything kind of came together. Now I'm starting to see what the fuss is about here.

I stand by my criticism of Episode 3, though. I don't think they needed four episodes of this show to get to this moment. Two episodes, maybe. They could have ditched all those scenes of Shinji staring at Misato's beer cans in Episode 2, and trimmed a lot of fat from Episode 3. Suzuhara could have found out about Shinji being an Eva pilot some other way before the episode started, instead of that long scene in the classroom.

Still, we're here. Shinji has decided that he actually cares about Tokyo-3 and its people, and he wants to pilot the Eva to protect his home, not just because someone else told him to do it. We'll see how well that goes, but it's a big step forward.

Also, the next episode preview shows Rei looking healthy and doing things, so that seems like a big improvement too. Everything's coming up Milhouse!

[ijustwannadraw0716]

Don't mind me just casually dropping another Au (don't worry I have like ten more in a shoe box somewhere). I know I post alot but you know when like your friend who you have always shared your shared interest slowly begins to move away from the interest so all the things and aus you talk about just kinda go stagnant?

..Anyway I call this one big brother Remus.

Oh and haha dark themes relating to suicide in this Lil snippet

My account seemed a bit too soft so I had to sprinkle in a bit of angst. <3

--‐

Remus remembers when he was 13. He was thirteen and taking care of a two year old. Roman didn't have a care in the world, babbling mindlessly and sucking on a red pacifier while Remus did his homework on his bed.

Remus remembers when he was thirteen and he came home from school to find Roman on the floor, diaper soiled and him screaming his little lungs out while his mom was passed out on their ragged couch, a line of bottles littering the area around her. Roman had an awful rash, and his cries had become strained from how loud and long he'd been wailing.

Remus remembers when he was thirteen and sat on the floor of his room, digging his nails into his legs as hard as he could as a special bottle of pills sat unopened in front of him, a shiny kitchen knife mirroring the bottle. He pondered which of the two would be his end.

And then he saw a flash of red in the corner of his eyes.

A red pacifier.

Suddenly, he was fourteen and taking care of a three year old. The same shiny kitchen cutting open a TV dinner.

And then fifteen taking care of a four year old. The bottle of pills long gone by now.

And then sixteen and taking care of a five year old. He wore a red pair of sneakers that had cost Remus a good pocket full. It was worth it to watch his brother squeal and run around, over the moon as his shoes lit up.

And now he's seventeen and taking care of a six year old, struggling to feed him. He avoids knives. In the back of his mind, the thought of that night drifts, so he avoids them. If he got his hand on one again, he isn't sure a red pacifier wouldn't be enough to stop him.

[empressofthelibrary]

Tell me about Jamie and Rachel

......Okay, I've been trying to keep my mouth shut about them because I'm worried I'll lose the motivation to write if I spill the beans, but... When I look at the pace I'm actually writing at, I might not get there until I literally retire. So... Here we go. Spoilers ahead, obviously.

Long story short, they're Bailey and Dick's daughters. I'm not sure how obvious that was, but I'd be shocked if nobody had put that together yet, honestly. And they might be from another dimension. They hatched from eggs that grew from a plant Bailey got as a wedding gift from the girls' fairy godmother.

...I'm gonna explain everything, but it's a helluva ride, so buckle up. Time travel is heavily involved, so be warned. It gets confusing.

The earliest seeds of this start not in Bailey's relationship with Dick, exactly, but with a cryptic warning from a random blonde girl with a very strong grip and intense orange eyes. She tells Bailey to "stay away from the peacock man" and... Vanishes back into the crowd.

Bailey brushes it off as a prank from some weird kid.

Fast forward a little bit, and Bailey gets called in to body-double for Princess Lydia of Valdania. The country is in political turmoil, Lyd is announcing a marriage of state, the risk of assassination attempts is high. There's a masquerade ball involved, because what's the point of fanfic if not self-indulgence, and Bailey encounters a man dressed as a peacock. She has completely forgotten the warning from the weird kid, but her "bodyguard" steps in before she can accept this wierdo's request for a dance. That becomes important later, I promise.

At some point, through some kind of Star Trek Bullshit, I'm sending Bailey into the 30th century. Someone else needs to be with her; it can't be Wally, for obvious reasons. She gets back with the help of Cary Wren, the GL of the time, but... Cary misses the target by about a decade. Bailey lands about ten-to-fifteen years ahead of when she left, practically in the lap of a twenty-something Lian. (Lian is growing up normal, fuck canon, this whole "Shoes" thing is stupid.) Bailey panics once she realizes she's not when she's supposed to be, and who she's looking at. She's familiar enough with the scifi genre to know that finding out your own future is bad. Lian is trying to do damage control, making sure Bailey learns as little as possible, while still getting her home. But she can't keep a perfect lid on things, and Bailey comes face to face with a very curious child -- One with red-gold curls framing her freckled face, a gaptoothed grin, and giant, almond-shaped eyes, blue as cornflowers.

Everyone freezes. Chris -- now also an adult -- scoops the child away as fast as he can. Bailey does not understand the tension in the room. She has a niece, clearly. That kid looked exactly like her nephew Aiden did at her age. Obviously Phoebe had another kid. Why a civilian child is here is a mystery, but she's trying really hard not to think about that.

The other person on the adventure with her points out the obvious. Bailey laughs it off -- It's pretty much physically impossible for her to have kids. And who would the dad even be? She'd be an awful mother besides. Nah, no way. That cycle ends here. (The thought had crossed her mind, but it scared the shit out of her, so she shoved it down deep.)

Fast forward a bit. Bailey freaks out and runs away from an actual relationship beginning with Dick, because change is hard and scary and good things never stay and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah commitment. I've talked about this a little.

To be more specific, she runs away to space with Kyle. While in space with Kyle, the party runs afoul of a Black Mercy. Bailey gets sucked into a dream. She's married to Dick, and has been for fourteen years. They're both going gray, getting old. Together. They have a little yellow house with a porch swing and a picket fence. There's a shelter cat, a cranky old-as-hell ginger tabby with one good eye. The sidewalk is covered in chalk drawings.

And they have two fantastic, adorable, smartmouthed daughters. Jamie's older, eleven, and already almost as tall as her father. Rachel is six, and steals the chocolate chips from the pancakes Dick makes on Sundays. They're both bright, compassionate, opinionated girls, so full of light and life and joy. Jamie has Bailey's righteous anger and outspoken nature. Rachel has Dick's quick mind and mischievous tendencies. Bailey loves them, loves this life, so much. It's everything she's ever wanted. Everything she didn't realize she wanted. Everything she was afraid to let herself want.

But she does. She wants it so, so much.

And then Zyzzanyx, the imp she'd... encountered... previously (that's another post) pops in. Explains that she's gonna die if she doesn't make herself wake up -- that Kyle and Laney and the others are gonna get hurt if she doesn't help them. And Bailey has to let it all go.

(The Man Who Has Everything did not do enough exploration of the long-term psychological ramifications of this concept to suit me, okay?)

Bailey is deeply shaken by this dream. She starts to realize that she does want to be a parent, but the idea of stability and putting down roots still scares the hell out of her. It takes someone else pointing out that she's already basically adopted Lanos, the amnesiac navcom AI who is from another Earth, for her to really start to come around to the idea.

...This is what leads to her freakout that has her knocking on Ollie's door at four in the morning, unleashing a wall of text, and recounting the whole tale so far over several bowls of chili.

Unfortunately, Laney leaves. Bailey doesn't really have a stable place to share with a teenager, and... Lanos has a big sister to get to know, and a whole new universe to explore. They stay in contact, but it's a bit like sending your kid off to boarding school.

Shortly after that, she leaves for Los Angeles. She doesn't really have anywhere to stay, having lost her apartment while in space, and she's been couch surfing. Bette offers her a proper room in her penthouse apartment in LA, and a chance to rebuild the Titans West. Bailey takes her up on it. Staying in the Gotham/Metropolis/NYC area was too close to Bludhaven and Dick anyway; the further away she could get from him, the better.

From there, the next big chapter we get in this saga is what I refer to as the Little Mercies Arc. And this one I need to do a lot of research before I write, I know. But essentially, someone is making designer drugs derived from a Black Mercy they got ahold of and embiggified to a truly dangerous degree. You know those century-old rhododendron bushes that are the size of a small car? It's like that. But Bailey and Jason take this person down, and burn the stash.

...Or. Most of the stash, anyway. Bailey picks up a single sleeve of the Little Mercies. She tells herself it's for research. Study. Finding out how it was made. But it's not. She knows it's not.

She misses her daughters. She misses the life she could have lived, if she hadn't fucked things up with Dick. She's only human, after all.

You can see where that's going.

Bailey stabilizes, gets some help, starts getting better. She gets more involved with the local community, doing volunteer work and stuff; that was Ollie's idea, and it's a good one. She forms connections with people, even starting a new relationship with an old acquaintance, Jonah Pavoni -- a nurse, formerly from Central, who helped her decide to take up being a superhero.

...Cut ahead about... Twentyish years or so. Metropolis. Four teenagers in spandex are in hot pursuit of a man in a peacock-themed outfit. They are:

A speedster in green -- Kickstart, also known as Trenton Swift; currently the second-youngest ward of the West-Allen clan, until his parents can be found.

An acrobat in blue-and-black -- Madcap, Blythe Phillips; daughter of forcibly-retired minor-league supervillains Punch and Jewlee, seeking to redeem her family name through vigilantism.

A blonde Kryptonian girl with orange eyes -- Liora of Kandor, once Liora Tyr-Van; an escapee of the bottled city, hoping to find a way to unshrink her people before their resources run out. I'm leaning towards Spitfire for a name.

And at the front of this quartet, a young archer, black-haired, blue-eyed, and both enraged and terrified. Rachel Marion Grayson-Adler, Fledgling, third-generation superhero. She's eager to prove herself, and desperate to stop the man ahead of them.

He's headed for the Jules Verne Museum, after the time-bubble Clark donated, the one he used to visit the 30th Century growing up. If he gets ahold of it, if he jumps back to when he wants... It could literally wipe her family out of existence.

Unfortunately, they don't make it. The guy gets away with the time-bubble. So what do a bunch of 15-17yos do to solve this problem?

Steal the other time-bubble from the Flash Museum, obviously.

They leap into the timestream after him, but none of them know how to pilot the dang thing. Ray and Liora are trying to shoot the other bubble down. Blythe is hitting random buttons because one of these things has to help, right? Trent is just trying to steer while the three girls move around the tiny, cramped ship.

...Both bubbles crash. All five time-travellers are now scattered along the timeline. And this is where it gets confusing, so stay with me.

Blythe lands on a random rooftop in Gotham, just before the whole thing with the dragon-wizard from another dimension. That is also its own post. But that happens after Bailey gets back from space but before Laney heads out.

Liora tumbles into the middle of Bailey's team-up with Kara, Bette, and Shayera. She helps, but she also has to gtfo because the giant robot dinosaur they're fighting is kryptonite-powered.

Trent... Actually snaps back to the time they left, and goes for help in the form of the Team's Designated Older Siblings, Jamie and Wade.

Rachel crashes into the middle of the West-Park dining table, appearing out of thin air, at roughly the same time Bailey is getting her head back on straight.

And the other guy, the one they were chasing? His bubble lands in the wrong time, but not too far off the mark. He's outside a small volunteer clinic in Keystone City. It doesn't take much use of his touch-telepathy to steal the knowledge, training, and clothes of an unlucky nurse, a witness to the crash, and he slides in seamlessly. He's now Jonah Pavoni, RN.

Jonah's plan all along was to steal the time-bubble and go back to before the love of his life -- the woman who saved him, the brilliant, shining angel, the ethereal wonder he's loved since childhood -- before she married some asshole who didn't deserve her. When he crashed in the wrong place and time, he didn't know if he'd ever find her again. But three days later, the Pied Piper drags her in. She's injured, but the wounds are more mental than physical. Of course -- his goddess couldn't be brought down so easily. She just needs... A little encouragement. A nudge or two. He can help with that.

It's like fate brought him exactly when and where he needed to be, placed him in an even better position to convince Bailey of his devotion. Now nothing could keep them apart -- not the misalignment of their ages, not distance, not that stupid neglectful jackass. No, now he could be here for Bailey, from the very beginning, building her up, adoring her, showing her the worship she deserves. Finally, he could be hers, and she could be his. As it was always meant to be.

...Man's a little bit not right in the head.

Blythe and Liora are trying to find their friends, and worrying about Jonah later. Liora crosses paths with Bailey once, and in the interest of still having her best friend to find, tries to warn Bailey to be careful. It doesn't work that well.

Rachel, however, needs to find Jonah right now immediately. While also keeping her identity secret from her extended family and avoiding the hell out of anyone who might recognize her, so she doesn't Marty McFly herself out of existence. She's a walking ball of anxiety, my poor lanky dorito girl.

Wally would like to help, but she keeps saying she isn't allowed to talk to him about it and there are time-travel rules and he has no fucking clue who this sassy lost child is but she called him Uncle Wally so clearly she's family of some kind. But his family is really damn big, and he doesn't know who he's supposed to help her avoid. She's an archer with super strength, she might be Roy and Donna's kid? Somehow? But she also used the phrase "Uncle Clark," and her eyes are really blue, and she has that dorky little forehead curl -- Kon has weird time-travelling clone daughters, right? And... He and Bart are close...?

While all that is going on, Trent, Jamie, and Wade arrive in the present day. They're in Gotham. It's a full moon. On Friday night. Naturally, things are going sideways all over the city. The addition of two speedsters and an acrobat are easy enough to hide. ... For a bit. Eventually they get spotted by the local nosy busybodies. Wade is completely unfazed by the arrival of the bat, Trent is mildly shocked to see Mr. Wayne still in the suit, and Jamie is dying because that's her grandpa how could this go any wronger.

More bats show up, that's how. Including Dick.

They eventually nab Blythe -- who has been having fun stopping criminals, harassing the local vigilantes, and bonding with Steph in the few months she's been stranded -- and as they're trying to leave, Dick puts it all together. He has a daughter. From a future that, after Bailey literally left the planet to avoid putting a name on whatever was happening between them, seems unreachable.

Things get emotional, obviously, and moreso when they part. Jamie can't stick around, she has to find the others. No, Dick can't help, he's already figured out too much and putting the fabric of spacetime at risk. Or something.

Dick, reluctantly, lets them leave to go find Liora. I'm not totally sure where she's been during all this, but I'm batting a few ideas around. They grab her and set to finding Rachel.

While all this is happening, Jonah reveals the full truth to Bailey. He's the kid she saved in her latest adventure. He's been in love with her for two decades, since that fateful moment. He's crossed time and space and warped the laws of reality just to be with her. He'd planned to just come back to this point, but what he'd gotten -- this chance to get to know her, to watch her become the hero he always admired -- it was more than he ever could have dreamed.

And now, now they could be together. He's finally repaired the time bubble. They can sweep away to the time he left, have a life together. He's waited for her for so long, can't she see how much he adores her? Won't she be his?

...Bailey, on her end, has had a series of bombs dropped on her. By a guy she's not even sure she can call her boyfriend yet. Ending in what sure as hell sounds like a proposal? And he... Might be a kid?? She says no, like any sane person would, with a few expletives thrown in.

Jonah does not like this answer. He didn't want it to go like this, but... He reaches for Bailey. If she won't love him willingly, he'll just make it happen.

THWIP!

Suddenly there's an arrow sticking through Jonah's palm.

"STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM HER," Rachel screams, barely clinging to her vantage point.

A fight naturally ensues. I don't have it choreographed well, but we wind up with all three parties -- Bailey and Jonah; Rachel and Wally; Jamie, Wade, Trent, Liora, and Blythe -- all in the same space. During the chaos, Rachel falls from some great height, while injured. Bailey dives after her.

It's too great a fall for her to survive, if she can't recover. And with her wounded -- maybe Jonah has, like, feather-shaped daggers and he stuck one in her side? -- she can't do much. Bailey is trying, but she can't quite reach --

-- and then two feathered wings, shining a brilliant gold, like flame and sunrise, unfurl from Rachel's back.

Ray scrambles to pull up, flapping awkwardly, moving on instinct alone. She pulls up, rising into the air, crowing and laughing and on one hell of an adrenaline high. Bailey helps her get back to the others. Ray gets patched up. There's celebration and relief and joy. Someone makes a "Literal Flying Grayson" joke. Wally still wants an explanation, please and thank you?

Once all that gets shook out, Bailey turns to Jonah. He tried to kill her daughter. He is a threat to her girls, and he won't stop until he's stopped permanently. Clearly, there's only one thing to do.

Wally steps in, trying to plead for mercy. Bailey laughs, and agrees. She'll show him mercy, alright.

...Remember that giant mega Black Mercy? It went into the care of one Dr. Pamela Isley, retired since her wedding to Harley, and considered mostly rehabilitated. Her indoor garden has a real nice skylight.

So yeah. Bailey can show him a little mercy, alright.

There's a whole lotta crying as the time-travellers make their goodbyes. Bailey tries to put on a brave face, because you gotta for your kids, but she doubts she'll ever see their future. But she's so, so proud of them, and she loves them so much.

Fast-forward a bit again. Throughout Bailey and Dick patching things up and figuring out a relationship for real, there's a whole lot of dramatic tension as they both try to keep their mouths shut about the possible future they've both seen, but don't know the other one knows about. Bailey is scared to death that Dick would be with her for that future -- only a possibility she doesn't even know how to reach -- and not for anything inherent to her, and Dick doesn't want to put any pressure on Bailey and make her run away again. It's a whole thing! But they do work it out, and... Well, wedding bells do ring.

And Bailey gets a very unusual wedding gift from Zyzzanyx, her old ally. A small chest, containing what sure looks like two tulip bulbs. Zazz explains that these'll grow into the girls, so... She and Dick can plant 'em when they're ready. It's old magic, and it'll take a drop of blood from each parent, but, well. She's fond of the little rugrats too, she guesses. And watching Bailey be miserable about not having them is, y'know, depressing or whatever.

Bailey thanks Zazz for this, and releases the imp from her life-debt. (Like I said, that's it's own post; this is already a mile long.)

The girls eventually happen. Jamie is roughly of an age with Wade, less than a year younger. Ray is born about five years after that, I think. They grow up safe and happy and loved, with a phenomenally huge number of aunts and uncles and grandparents.

There are many arguments and discussions regarding youthful vigilantism and sidekickery, but once again, Bailey cannot stop the future. It's allowed, but under very strict conditions regarding school and social lives. Jamie begins training at age fifteen, taking on the name Dawnbird, and patrolling with her dad.

Rachel learns archery from Aunt Cissie, and then from Uncle Roy and Grandpa Ollie, when she won't be deterred from masking up once she turns fifteen. She uses Fledgeling as her moniker, one of her mother's nicknames for her, as something of an olive branch. Bailey relents and lets Ray be her partner.

I could go on, but I think this post is long enough as is. Most of the rest of what I have is bits and pieces and fun facts anyway. If there's anything anyone's curious about or wants me to elaborate on -- or if you need a diagram, 'cause I got a little Charlie Day here -- my askbox is open!

[just-an-enby-lemon]

Cluemaster: Hey, bro, I know I never call...

Kiteman: You did drunk call me that one time.

Cluemaster: I already said I was sorry for spreading around that you were in love with your kite and calling you to brag about it. As you said I was hella drunk and angry your weird ass podcast somehow now has the same level of fans as my old gameshow. Who the fuck cares that much about kites? Or C list vilany?

Kiteman: Did you just call to remind me why I hate you?

Cluemaster: Of course not, Chucky boy, your my favorite lil bro.

Kiteman: Arthur... I'm your only brother.

Cluemaster: Yeah? You're still my favorite.

Kiteman: Okay. Fine. What do you want?

Cluemaster: You're good with kids right?

Kiteman: Oh do you want me to babysit little Steph? I haven't see her since she was a baby! That'll be soo much fun!

Cluemaster: Oh, no, no. She is too old for a babysitter. I kindda called 'cause I need your advice.

Kiteman: Sure. Go on.

Cluemaster: How would you stop a prank war between your teen daugther and your bussiness partner that happens to be living at your house?

Kiteman: Woah. Define prank war?

Cluemaster: Like they just being annoying with each other... like non-stop Shrek music and painting one of her walls green?

Kiteman: Are you working with a child, Artie?

Cluemaster: No. Childrem are not really good at puzzle robberies.

Kiteman: So who the hell is in a prank war with your fourteen year old daugther? Is it that Polka Dot weirdo?

Cluemaster: ... Riddler.

Kiteman: Be honest, Arthur.

Cluemaster: I am!

Kiteman: Why the fuck would he work with you? Didn't he like was brought on to one of your trials and tried to sue you for being a copycat?

Cluemaster: No idea. I don't really remember all my trials.

Kiteman: Fair. Still isn't he like an actual treat? Like Batman actually tries to be always involved in his crimes instead of just sending a Robin or a cop kindda treat? Or hangs out with Cooblepot and Harley Quinn and fucking Catwoman and even Scarecrow and Joker kindda treat?

Cluemaster: Yes, so what?

Kiteman: He is waaay above your league. How the fuck do you got him to work with you?

Cluemaster: He is working for me because he recognizes my genius.

Kiteman: *sarcasm* Yeah, sure. At least it explains why I've been hearing that your plans don't totally suck anymore.

Cluemaster: Will you help me or not?

Kiteman: Anything for little Steph. But seriusly bro, the guy is a mentally instable killer, he is real Arkham loonie, A-lister and all this shit are you sure is safe to have him living with you? Specially if he and Stephanie are fighting!? She is just a kid! What if this prank war thing escalates and next thing she is in saw type death trap or something?

Cluemaster: Well than help me not to! I can't just kick him out, do you know how much I've been proffiting later?

Kiteman: And also he is an instable killer that used to hate you and wouldn't react well to being kicked out?

Cluemaster: Yeah, this too. Look I think you're overestimating the guy. He is smart and all and he can take a punch but I could take him out real easy in a one on one. He screamed like a little girl when he found a roach in the kitchem. I think I'll be fine.

Kiteman: Sure, you do you.... Maybe.... you could just.... help them find something they have in common? A TV show they like or something. It used yo work with us. They will bond over the thing and forget they hate each other for a bit.

Cluemaster: See was it that hard to help me?

*Chuck hangs up*

[Three months later]

Cluemaster: Chuck! I need help!

Kiteman: Can you call in another time? I'm bowlling with the guys, Calendar Man and Condiment King cannot win a second time, one weird rap about their love conquering all was ENOUGHT.

Cluemaster: Is about the whole prank war between Nygma and Stephanie thing.

Kiteman: Oh. So I guess my advice didn't work.

Cluemaster: No, no, it did. It worked way to well actually.

Kiteman: *worried* That sounds bad.

Cluemaster: Yeah... it happened that the thing they had in common was that they really hate me.

[augment-techs]

Six-Word Starter Prompts (part I)

Watching quietly from every door frame.

Catholic school backfired. Sin is in!

Savior complex makes for many disappointments.

Nobody cared, then they did. Why?

Some cross-eyed kid, forgotten then found.

Born in the desert. Still thirsty.

I asked. They answered. I wrote.

No future, no past. Not lost.

Joined army. Came out. Got booted.

Almost a victim of my family.

The psychic said I'd be richer.

Painful nerd kid, happy nerd adult.

Fourteen years old, story untold.

One long train ride to darkness.

Wolf! She cried. No one listened.

I'm my mother and I'm fine.

All day I dream about sex.

I still make coffee for two.

I like girls. Girls like boys.

Never should have bought that ring.

Stranded by ten-thousand-mile crush.

Time heals all wounds? Not quite.

Made a mess. Cleaned it up.

Says deaf boyfriend: You're too quiet.

My family is overflowing with therapists.

Boy, if I had a hammer.

Followed white rabbit, became black sheep.

Followed Yellow Brick Road. Disappointment ensued.

Nerdy girl smutmonger. Now, baby fever.

Recent doctorate means overeducated and underemployed.

Taking a lifetime to grow up.

Bad breaks discovered at high speed.

In the office. It smells here.

I am trying, in every regard.

Happiest when ignoring huge financial debt.

Not pretty enough, so now unemployed.

Mistakes were made, but smarter now.

Likes everything too much to choose.

Curly haired sad kid chose fun.

Now I blog and drink wine.

Egomaniac with inferiority complex defies odds.

I thought I was someone else.

Dancing for now, one day farming.

I grew and grew and grew.

Starving artist. Lucky break. Life downhill.

The Hustle: turn champion into sucker.

I was born 'some assembly required.'

I drank to much last night.

Took scenic route, got a date.

I like big butts, can't lie.

I'm enjoying even this downward dance.

Without ideas, intelligence could not exist!

I hope I outlive my regrets.

All night phone calls complete me.

Tragic childhood can lead to wisdom.

Which comes first: tequila or accident?

A sundress will solve life's woes.

I recognize red flags faster, now.

I sucked even the lobster legs.

Nothing profound, I just sat around.

Others left early: he continued cooking.

Quiet guy; please pay closer attention.

I sell hamburgers and french fries.

the shit invariably hits the fan

and he nerded as never before

tow truck drivers are my psychiatrists

should have used condom that time

infinite calm beset with emotional architecture

won the fight; lost the girl

slightly psychotic, in a good way

found true love after nine months

Afraid of everything. Did it anyway.

I wrote it all down somewhere

lost and found, rescued by dog

afraid of becoming like my mother

What the hell. Might as well.

Hexed: curse of the happy childhood.

Can't tonight, watching Law & Order

my life's a bunch of almosts

It's not you. It's me. Honest.

Thought I would have more impact

this is aggression in pink, bitch

oh, to have just one puff!

at the end of Normal Street

found great happiness in insignificant details

spent life looking for dead people

enjoying my fuck ups too much

an unusual turn of gender circumstances

hiding in apartment knitting against depression

they kissed me and said yes!

always dreamt of kissing pretty girls

everyone who loved me is dead

it was embarrassing, don't ask

Verbal hemophilia. Why can't I clot?

the car accident changed my life

burned my bridges and my britches

Batteries are cheap. Who needs men?

Clueless meets Ophelia, without the suicide.

anything possible--but I was tired

I ate, drank, and was hairy

still have not learned to swim

glass half full; pockets half empty

you are all in my imagination

school geek married a luscious cheerleader

I couldn't protect me from myself

aspiring lady pirate, disillusioned, sells boat

I was and now I'm not.

oh sweet nectar of life, coffee

no shit I'm critical--you're flawed

It's pretty high. You go first.

Wasn't noticed so I painted trains.

running away: best decision I made

when she proposed, I said yes

Nobody knows how I have suffered.

Dweeb, pussy...stronger than anyone knows.

too many lovers--too little time

couldn't cope so I wrote songs

long lost girl recently found, unharmed

born a twin, died a loner

It was worth it, I think.

Dorothy Gale had the right idea

take a left turn, then fly

I was never the pretty one

born at 23, childhood doesn't count

memory was my drug of choice

gay physician designed life-saving AIDS drugs

never lived up to my potential

never really finished anything, except cake

cursed with cancer; blessed with friends

crappy parents killed my self esteem

lonely artist turned waitress in love

my life is just like yours

lucky in everything else except love

I'm just here for the beer

With three cats I'm never unloved

came, saw, conquered, had second thoughts

the weather up here is better

baby dyke now raising two babies

Stoned. Boned. Where am I now?

town car, tailored suit, dirty nails

I fell far from the tree

the image was large with silence

after you jump, the net appears

I colored outside the lines

should not have eaten those mushrooms

Wanked furiously. Married. Furious no more.

even the quietest sounds make noise

many hands have kept me afloat

all of my students hate me

I managed not to destroy anything.

[genzdiariez]

I kind of just want to talk about nothing. This is a diary, after all. Lengthy personal ramble up ahead, if anyone dares or cares to read it. CW: suicidal ideation

So. I'm 20 now. It's been probably six years since I last actually used this blog, until a couple days ago when I checked the email I made it with and saw that it had accrued a bunch of bot followers. So, I logged on, started purging them (and probably some real people too, my bad,) and realized I might be able to start doing this again. So I started following a bunch of people.

For some reason, this blog's url was changed to -blog, and then someone else took the zdiariez url, and I'm not sure I'm willing to confront someone for a url I might end up dropping again in a few months anyway. It does suck, though. I don't like having dashes in my usernames.

I'm not sure I ever talked about this on this blog before, but my mom used to be a massive TERF. Part of the reality of millenials raising gen z is that millenials and gen z are both WAY too online. She got sucked into her toxic circles, I got sucked into mine. I guess in a way, we both saw each others' toxicity and not our own.

At the time (six years ago, freshman year) I was dating a girl who had me on my phone literally whenever she could get my attention. I got in trouble in my computer-something class multiple times because I would constantly check my phone to talk to her. If I didn't, she would get very upset with me. I remember her telling me that it wasn't fair when I was tired, because she lives on the east coast and I live on the west coast, and for her to talk to me she has to stay up really late while it's relatively early where I am, and when I go to bed at a reasonable hour, she doesn't have anyone to talk to.

My mom recognized in me a growing anxiety of being away from my phone or computer, and quickly realized it was because I was being emotionally manipulated. By a fourteen year old girl. Of course it's possible when you're both fourteen. That entire relationship was an absolute dumpster fire. I'll never forget how her ex would treat me like a demon and misgender me simply because she didn't like me. Or how she would cut herself on call with my ex to guilt her. I honestly don't understand how we could have so much drama.

So was being fourteen, to be honest. Again, not sure how much I've talked about this, but right when my middle school years ended and I entered into high school, my friend group kicked me out - right after my cat died - and basically told me that I was a bitch and to get lost. "We're tired of walking on eggshells around you all the time." I didn't get the memo that being emotionally volatile after the death of my beloved cat was unacceptable. I think I'll always be pretty fucking salty about that whole situation. It was the seed that grew into a big, strong, healthy Fear of Abandonment and Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria tree.

So I lost my cat, my friends, my girlfriend is suffocating me, my mom won't accept me for who I am, so what am I to do? Obviously, I'll hang myself from the catwalks in the school theater with a rope I was given as a prop for a play.

Saying it now, it's melodramatic and needlessly traumatizing for anyone who witnesses it. Back then, it was so comforting to think that I was finally going to be done with it.

Making this blog in the first place was a way for me to cry for help. I didn't ask for help very well, that's something I've never been good at. I kind of wish I was, then maybe I wouldn't have been in such a dark place to begin with, or maybe someone would have noticed the way i was talking on here and reached out.

I feel forever grateful for an interaction I had on this blog when I was fourteen, two years after I came out as nonbinary, unsure if I was allowed to call myself trans and relate to other trans people. An adult (or at least someone older than me) came in to tell me that I am just as trans as anyone else, and my struggles matter. Thank you, blog I've forgotten the name of. You genuinely did help me. You restructured my neurons in the right way where I can tell myself and other people, of course I'm trans! I'm not cis, am I?

[gazpachoandbooks]

I LOVE this one always reblog 💖💖

And "Stark shot a baffled look at Yoren" just gets me

Like Jon is fourteen here. FOURTEEN

Him smiling at some weird in-joke shouldn't be surprising, even if it comes from someone Benjen doesn't trust. No one would have batted an eye if 14-year-old Robb had smiled at something silly from anyone

But this isn't Robb. This is Jon.

And Benjen doesn't see him much, but oh does he know him inside out

And I have so many feelings about Benjen and Jon and "I'm not your son!" and "more's the pity" and Benjen telling Jon he must earn his place -because he's not a bastard, but he knows Jon, and he sort of gets it!! He's the little one!! Winterfell was Brandon's, and Ned would stand by his side or rule a holdfast, but Benjen? Was he to always follow? Nothing was ever going to be handed to him, and then they lost everything and he got away and tried to escape the grief but it chased him to the Wall and he was just as alone as Ned was and still he had to earn his place and it sucked, but oh does it feel wonderful to know your sweat and your tears and your effort alone got you where you are now. Oh is Jon going to love and be proud of himself someday. Just you wait- and the desperation with which Jon tries to find him and fails and it's been years and he still can't get himself to stop staring north of the Wall because what if Uncle Benjen comes back. He won't. He'll never see him again. But what if.

And still I'm so so thankful Jon had Tyrion's honesty and jokes and wit and care by his side when he headed for that cold place. I'm so so thankful that this kid who grew up before his brother because he had to, who learnt to never trust a stranger, to guard himself against almost anyone, who knew what introducing himself as Snow meant and was ready for the rejection and the judgement and the blame- I'm so so thankful he met someone genuine and kind and quick-tongued and compassionate enough for Jon to take his glove off and shake his hand and call him friend. I'm so so thankful someone managed to make him smile when he left home. I'm so so thankful he had Tyrion

[…] Wordlessly, Morrec handed him the ladle. Tyrion tasted and handed it back. “More pepper,” he said.

Benjen Stark emerged from the shelter he shared with his nephew. “There you are. Jon, damn it, don’t go off like that by yourself. I thought the Others had gotten you.”

“It was the grumkins,” Tyrion told him, laughing. Jon Snow smiled. Stark shot a baffled look at Yoren. The old man grunted, shrugged, and went back to his bloody work.

Tyrion II, A Game of Thrones

[cordycepsfem]

Pageboy Readthrough, Part Fourteen: The One About the Rant About the Skirt

Happy Pride! Let's slog our way through the rest of this. I'm sick so I've been doing nothing but drinking my weight in Gatorade and FaceTiming my girlfriend, but she's sleeping so I've got time for at least two chapters.

If you've missed any of this delightful readthrough, you can find all the parts here.

Previously

EP goes to Old Navy and buys clothes she doesn't like because she wants to fit in

your reviewer commiserates

EP likes a girl but can't figure out how to handle that so she dates a boy (and sucks his dick) instead

I wish we'd left on a more memorable note, because that all sounds boring AF, but here we are

Now

Chapter Twenty-One

EP talks about the first girl she ever kissed

somehow she knew this girl was "queer" and all EP wanted was to be around her "queerness"

you had a crush, EP, it's okay to say it

so she'd go and hang out where this girl worked

they kiss:

first, of course we get to know a Canadian Fact

second, that's beautiful, what a good and memorable kiss; I hope I don't scroll down to read anything that ruins it

well, she ran away from Jessica, but that's okay because years later she meets up with Jessica again at a party, and it's all good

except now, like a dummy, EP says this:

So you fetishized her experience as either a bisexual woman or a lesbian, and you're now referring to someone again as "queer" without any notes on how they referred to themselves.

Knock that the fuck off. You do it every chapter and it's rude as fuck.

Chapter Twenty-Two

EP is filming the remake of "Flatliners"

(I enjoyed it mostly, it ends like shit)

first we are told that she was not given a safety belt during a car scene

then we are told she is a huge fan of rollercoasters, which is surprising because I wasn't sure she was tall enough for any of them, but apparently her friends call her "the mayor of Six Flags Magic Mountain" which sure, why not, could also be true

she likes rollercoasters because they allow her to dissociate

also for those of us new to the world, thank you for doing the charitable work of describing how a rollercoaster ride starts

(I am a very specific type of asshole and am feeling very bitchy and uncharitable with EP tonight but now I want to go on a rollercoaster)

anyway, the car scene goes fine, if a little roughly due to no safety belt, which should have been handled more seriously

EP reports that the Black actress in the film was told that she (the Black actress) only got the part because she was Black

EP reports that she said "no" to dresses for her character (a medical school student who really has no need to wear a dress) but "yes" to other "girl clothes"

then EP gets asked if she's upset that her character isn't gay, and goes on what is either a good tirade or a weirdly aggressive tirade that I can't parse from how poorly she writes it

did you... did you need to amp up the conversation with "... a fucking skirt"? could it have stayed at, like "She's gay in my heart" or "Is this about my wardrobe choices?" or "Why does this matter?"

why was this where you chose to lose your shit, EP?

also stop calling lesbians queer i swan to john ep

EP very casually - and by very casually I of course mean not casually at all - continues to lose her shit

remember, this conversation started with this man being kind of a dick and questioning in a roundabout way why she hadn't wanted to wear dresses and if that was a gay thing

except now wearing dresses *can* be a gay thing and how dare he suggest they can't

what is she actually mad about? that he thinks gay women don't wear skirts?

then go wear the fucking skirt EP show him he's wrong

.... right? what am I missing here?

okay, so let's take this from the top

"I continued to prioritize the needs of everyone else over mine" - you were there to do a job, this was your job. at my job, I don't usually get to rant about how dressing up for a meeting with the head honchos makes me feel bad, because it's my fucking job on the line

"trying not to be 'difficult' anymore" - you lost your shit over a question about a skirt; true, it was a badly-asked question and shouldn't have been asked, but you were difficult and made it a much bigger deal than was necessary

we'll get back to being who you are in a minute, but detour with me to the next point:

what is this "queer walk"?

this is not the first time she's written about this

I for the life of me cannot figure out what she means

she, like all other humans who walk, walks in a way that is distinct to her body

like all other humans whose arms do these things, her arms dangle and bend; like all other humans whose hands do this, her hands move; like all other humans who sit, she sits

(I added caveats because obviously there are humans without arms and hands, and obviously there are humans whose arms and hands do not work in the usual way, and humans who do not walk... but she is not one of those)

(for instance, my arms and hands also dangle, bend, and move, and I am known to sit and was also told I do not sit in a "ladylike" manner, because... that's not what my body does, and I don't care...?)

(me being a lesbian has not changed how any of that operates, nor does anyone I see immediately say "Ah, a lesbian" upon seeing only my gait)

(at least, no one's ever said that to me)

(yet)

so I went to go watch her walk

she doesn't walk "queerly"

she walks like a woman and/or a bashful boy

is that queer? do all queer people walk this way? no, of course not so what the fuck is she referring to?

let's go back to this "I'm sorry who I am is repulsive"

this is because of the skirt thing again? you are claiming you feel repulsive because you said "no" to wearing a dress, which is a good and okay thing to do, and then a man made an insinuation about your character, which was a less good thing to do, and then you got potentially righteously angry about that, and you immediately went to "I'm repulsive"

Bubby, you need help.

I thought this was the end of the chapter but then I realized it wasn't.

so she goes for a screen test and the guy is there and he says "the studio" wants her to get hair extensions so she's "softer"

which she correctly interprets as "less GNC"/"less lesbian"

so in the one good self-advocacy move I've read her make, she calls someone who puts a stop to it!

Why did you not keep that feeling with you???

For so much of this book I've been waiting for her to get that spirit, that "I have boundaries" root in her spine, and here it is, and then... what? She forgets about it?

I said "no" to wearing dresses full-time and having a bowl cut at age 12. Too late? Maybe, but it was the first time I felt comfortable saying "no."

I said "no" to going to therapy when I was 22, after almost a decade of unhappy suffering. Too late? Yes, but it was the first time I knew what my feelings were.

I said "no" to a lot of things later than maybe I should have, but it gets easier every time you say "no."

No, I don't want that. I don't want to be treated that way. I don't want that job. I won't do that job. I won't do what you're asking. I won't go there. I don't like that. I won't wear that. I can't pick up those hours. I'm not going to do that. I'm not going to do that.

It takes practice. It's truly so hard.

But instead of saying "I'm not going to let you change me because I'm a lesbian," EP decided to just... not be one.

I forgot how maudlin and irritable this book makes me.

Welcome back, I guess.

[hairasuntouchedaspartoftheamazon]

@enjoyer-of-shiny-things Okay okay but only because I do like storytelling. But in summary:

The Sledding Incident: I was seven and left unsupervised. My mom had taken my sister and me to a nearby park with a large sledding hill. It's been two days since it last snowed so one side of the hill is looking a bit worse for wear from all the sledding. This is the side that is smooth and gentle. There is another side of the hill, one that is steeper and looks over a lake and, most importantly, has more snow on it. My sister is like four at this point so my mom is watching her pretty closely, trusting that I won't grievously injure myself. This trust was misplaced. I immediately went onto the steep side of the hill, which as previously mentioned, overlooked a lake. There was a fence around the lake to prevent idiots from trying to skate on it in the winter. The fence was right at the bottom of a very steep hill, just to clarify. And seven year old me thought he could jump off the sled before I hit the fence. I was very wrong and came out of that encounter with a broken nose, two missing teeth, two black eyes, and a concussion that means I don't remember most of that day. I was ecstatic because I got x-rayed at the hospital and this was the coolest thing that had happened to me since the Quadcycle Incident. No scars from that one but it does get brought up at family gatherings.

The Quadcycle Incident. My dad was not a smart man. He thought letting a seven year old ride on the four-wheel cycle that my older cousin left at his house was a sound decision. It was not. I stayed on for an impressive five minutes before falling off and getting dragged behind it via the bungee cord he'd attached to my wrist. Unsure how long I was dragged behind it for, as I also do not have a clear memory of this day. My clearest memory is my dad cleaning me off in the bathroom after, telling me I was very brave and mentioning that I should NOT tell my mom. I have a faint scar on my wrist from this that used to be bright pink but is slowly fading.

I've almost drowned in two separate lakes and at the shore. The first time I was four and got caught in a rip current, the most recent time I was fourteen(?) and got tangled up in someone boogieboarding. Cannot count the number of times I've almost drowned actually. It's a lot.

That Time I Got Jumped On Halloween: I'm sixteen in this story. Two weeks prior to Halloween, I am playing flag (american) football with some kids from my neighborhood and their younger siblings. At some point, all the little kids went home and someone suggested we do tackle (american) football. One of the kids, a visiting cousin of my neighbor (i.e. did not interact with me regularly and thus did not understand the magnitude of the shit he was getting into) said that I should not play tackle football bc I'd suck at it, because I am small and looked like a girl. I took this as a challenge bc what else can you do and the second we called play I full body tackled this boy who was a full five inches and probably fifty pounds heavier than me and I did have that boy on the ground in under three seconds. His friends laughed. My friends laughed. It was awesome and I was vindicated. Fast forward two weeks later to Halloween. I am chaperoning my younger sister and two of her friends around for trick or treating and we run into a big group of kids, some of whom start chatting us up. Except one guy is giving me a really weird look and it's bugging me because I can't remember where I know him from. Until I do. So in a fit of 'aha I remembered' I shout out "I know you! You're that guy who's ass I kicked!" The atmosphere immediately turns rancid. I try to lead my sister and her friends away but the guy who's ass I kicked had a little girlfriend apparently and she decides to tackle me into a bush. I immediately trash talk her taste in men, shove her in the bush, and start running. Me, my sister, and her little friends got chased home by a pack of kids who really hated my ass. I regret absolutely nothing about that one because I did make it home safe. It's also vital you know I was dressed as a wizard.

I decided skateboarding down a hill was a great idea and ran into a tree. Was unconscious for at least a few minutes according to my watch but no permanent damage! Probably! This happened twice once with a skateboard once with rollerblades I was eleven/twelve maybe.

The treadmill incident: I am maybe twelve in this story? My mom has a treadmill in her room. We are in a second story apartment that has a little balcony in the back of my mom's room. The treadmill is facing away from the balcony. This is important. Also a good thing to know about me is that I sing very loudly when I run and also had a tendency to close my eyes. So I am twelve, belting my heart out to probably Billy Joel? Actually wait this was middle school it was definitely Mayday Parade. Anyway I'm belting, my eyes are shut, and my mother had wandered in from the other room to check on me. I didn't know she was standing there. So when I open my eyes again, I ger terrified, SCREAM, and fall back off the treadmill. My mother tries to help me up but I dragged her down with me, and the treadmill is still ON. So I get shoved back, knocking out the screen door to the balcony, and my mother gets her arm stuck between my ass and the moving belt of the treadmill. We get out within a minute but yeah that's why my mom has a scar on her forearm now.

I have a normal amount of childhood incidents I SWEAR

the thing is i've always hated subay surfers. it's been around since i was way younger and as soon as i saw it i hated it

[the-lone-witch-and-secret-room]

Camila Noceda and Flawed Parenting

A perspective by a flawed person with loving but extremely flawed parents

I’m genuinely baffled at some people’s hostile reaction towards Camila. Like… do any of you have flawless parents that always know the best solution instantly, make no mistakes and never get emotional?

My parents are great. They’re super supportive and I love them very, very much. Overall I think I got very lucky in the parents department.

But god, they are far from flawless. I still live at home, and despite all the good, there’s moments when I can’t take my dad anymore. He’s the kind of dad that stayed up until two am to help me with homework when I was in school, and he does so, so many things to make sure I’m happy. I know that. But despite all of this, I have told my mom in emotional moments before that I’m not sure if I can keep living with him, because for all his good sides, he has a couple of fatal flaws that sometimes make him unbearable.

My mom listens to me and is very open to being educated on certain topics, but she has her flaws, too. She hates when I fight with my dad, and gets so torn up about it that I’ve once apologized to my dad out of fear of her getting into a car crash otherwise. She’s very vocal about certain flaws of mine, and sometimes uses the things she does for me as leverage against me when she gets very emotional.

And both of my parents pay a lot more attention to my brother because he needs it more, because he’s more of a “problem child” while I “seem so capable” even when I’m not.

And guess what? I’m not a perfect child. I make mistakes sometimes, some of them pretty severe. Just like Luz, I’m the kind of person that struggles to communicate certain issues of mine to her parents. I’m stubborn, and when I get emotional, I say very hurtful things sometimes. So do they.

And this has nothing to do with my parents being horrible or abusive. They’re neither of those things.

The takeaway from this should not be that my entire family is made up of terrible people, but that we’re all flawed in our own ways, despite loving each other and trying our best. There’s things about my parents I wish I could change, and there are things about me that my parents wish they could change. And to an extent, that’s perfectly normal.

In our strengths and flaws and frustration with each other, we’re all human.

Specific, spoiler-y Camila and Luz things under the cut since this got very long.

We have no indication that Camila has a pattern of emotionally manipulating Luz. Her “emotional manipulation” as I’ve seen some people put it, is people for some reason thinking that the second you become an adult, you’re suddenly perfect and can no longer make mistakes, lest you’ll be dubbed horrible and abusive.

The whole concept is absurd to me. There is no perfect way to parent. There simply isn’t. Of course, there’s some genuinely abusive patterns that are horrible and inexcusable. But out of the parenting styles that aren’t, which one works depends on a number of factors, one of which absolutely includes that every child is different and has different needs. Camila is an amazing parent for Vee, giving the kid everything she’s ever longed for. She’s not an ideal parent for Luz. And that’s because Luz and Vee have fundamentally different needs.

Likewise, Luz is a pretty great child for Eda, but not a perfect fit for Camila. Luz relates to Eda a lot more than she relates to her mom, and that’s why the two of them have an easier time understanding each other. Both of these mother-child relationships exist, and one is not more doomed to fail than the other, but I think you’ll agree that the better you understand someone and where they’re coming from, the easier it is to communicate, pick up on certain signs, etc.

As mom and daughter, Camila and Luz are both flawed and have issues seeing the other’s perspective because of how different they are. And we should simultaneously acknowledge both of their roles in the issue and give both of them the space to learn and grow past those issues.

Luz struggles to communicate her problems. She doesn’t want to burden people in the demon realm, and it’s a given that this started out as not wanting to burden her mom. So she keeps quiet about her issues. Camila tries hard but can’t read her daughter’s mind, so there’s only so much she can do to understand and help the way Luz needs her to. Hell, Eda, who Luz is a lot more open with than her mom, struggles to help her, because Luz doesn’t tell her what’s wrong. I don’t see anyone calling Eda a terrible mom for that.

Camila tries her best, but she struggles to understand her daughter because of this, and because of how fundamentally different they are. She loves Luz’s creativity, we actively see her supporting it in the new episode—she keeps the weird stuff Luz made because she thinks Luz will regret throwing it away, and even plays along in what she assumes to be some elaborate role play because “she’s glad Luz kept her creativity even though it’s not made things easy for her at school”. But at the beginning of the show, said creativity got out of hand and people got hurt. Luz could’ve gotten hurt. So of course Camila had to interfere. I love Luz dearly, but she thought it was okay to bring snakes to school and set off fireworks inside a school building. Creativity is great. Doing reckless stuff that causes people to get hurt is not.

In sending Luz to camp, Camila tried to have someone else fix her issue because she didn’t know how to help Luz. That was a mistake, and a bad one at that, but she’s realizing that. She looks disheartened when Vee tries to throw out Luz’s stuff, because she never meant to change her daughter or take that part of her away. She just thought Luz needed a reality check—which, for the record, is something the narrative actually agrees with.

Luz spends her time in the demon realm getting reality check after reality check, realizing that even her ideal fantasy world where she has everything she always wanted doesn’t mean she’s free of consequences. She goes overboard constantly, causing:

-Eda to be forced to fly into a trap because Luz is chasing a fantasy (Witches before Wizards)

-Eda to almost be branded by her sister because Luz doesn’t think through why Eda doesn’t use magic to publicly announce her presence constantly (Once Upon a Swap)

-Eda and the twins to get kidnapped by a Slitherbeast because Luz stole Amity’s wand (Adventures in the Elements)

-Her friends to get hurt when she goes overboard trying to help Willow (Wing it like Witches)

-Eda to be captured and almost petrified because Luz thought she could just steal from the Emperor with no consequences in an attempt to help (Agony of a Witch)

I’m like 90% sure these aren’t even all. None of those make her a terrible person, for the record, but as all humans are, she is flawed and makes bad choices. She learns from these experiences and matures, just like her mom had hoped she would at camp. She’s also made friends there, which was another thing Camila wanted for her daughter.

You’ll probably realize that a lot of Luz’s behaviors I mentioned follow one of two patterns: 1. Luz’s idealized fantasy world causing problems, when she walks around with rose tinted glasses and gets people in trouble in the process because she hasn’t thought about the consequences, and 2. Luz trying to help someone she loves, but instead making things worse in the progress. The issue with this one is often that she doesn’t communicate her ideas/listen to the people she’s trying to help—like when Willow and Gus said they’ve had enough of Grudgby, or how she never actually talks to Eda about the healing hat idea before doing something reckless.

…does the latter one sound familiar to you at all? No? Because it’s the exact same thing that Camila did.

Some of the things Luz does are reckless and actively endanger others and herself, and that’s something that I think we need to acknowledge before judging Camila. As Luz’s mom, it’s Camila’s job to interfere in those situations. That she made a mistake while trying to protect Luz doesn’t make her a terrible person, especially as, again, the narrative proves her right to an extent.

I’m not saying her making Luz promise to come back and stay isn’t something that hurt Luz—it absolutely is. But it was born out of desperation. She’s emotional and in shock. She’s so full of pain and regret. She just wants her fourteen year old daughter home safe, and there’s nothing abusive or even morally ambiguous about that.

From Luz’s perspective, what she says is absolutely heartbreaking, but from Camila’s, it’s perfectly reasonable. I doubt Camila has the full picture, but even if she does, she’s had a full fifteen seconds to process that her daughter has not only been lying to her for months, but chose to leave her, and is in the demon realm of all places. Of course she’d be emotional and upset about that! Who wouldn’t? Camila isn’t a robot. If she’d been calm about this I’d be way more concerned, honestly.

My parents don’t get mad that easily, but if I would lie to them for weeks on end, they’d be pissed off too, not even taking the running away from home part into account. That’s a normal thing. People don’t like being lied to. Camila is absolutely devastated in that moment because she’s scared that Luz left because she hates her, when Luz actively states that her leaving wasn’t about her mom—which is another thing we should really be acknowledging.

Abusive parents suck and abuse should obviously never be apologized or trivialized, but saying something hurtful in the heat of the moment isn’t the same thing as being an abusive parent. My parents have done this. I’ve done this. And yes, those things can be emotionally manipulative, but there’s a huge difference in whether that’s a habit or a person speaking out of hurt and desperation in a very specific context. I doubt there’s anyone on the entire planet that hasn’t had a bad moment where they’ve said something like this because they were hurting. People lash out when they hurt, and they beg for reassurance when they’re scared. That’s something we all do.

The whole mindset of “all parents have to be perfect and can never get upset or make any mistakes” is harmful as hell, and honestly also very unrealistic. No parent is perfect, and especially people like me who have a relationship with their parents that’s very good overall should know that.

Once you have a child, parenting is a non-stop learning process, every day for the rest of your life. Taking away that room to grow and expecting perfection isn’t helping anyone, especially not struggling single parents.

And I see Camila as someone who is very willing to learn, because at the end of the day, all she wants is for Luz to be happy. Let’s give her some time to wrap her head around this whole situation. Let’s see what she says once she sees for herself how happy Luz is in that world, may it be via the videos eventually coming through or Camila visiting and meeting Luz’s found family, her friends and her girlfriend.

Ultimately, I don’t think Camila will force Luz to stay at home, but we have to give her some time. She wants what’s best for Luz, and she’s gonna need some convincing that a dangerous magical world is what’s best. I feel like that’s very normal considering the circumstances.

Her and Luz need to work on their communication on both ends, they both have things to learn, but I’m certain they’ll manage to fix their relationship in the long run.

If the bunk bed is any indication, I think Vee is gonna stay in the human realm permanently while Luz sleeps at home but keeps attending Hexside in the daytime. That feels like a solution that keeps everyone happy, and allows Luz to spend time with all the people she loves. I can’t see her being forced to choose at the end.

As a closing statement: Eda isn’t an ideal mom, Amity isn’t an ideal friend or girlfriend and neither is Luz, Lilith isn’t an ideal sister… but that’s because no one is ever an ideal anything. Being flawed is a big part of being human. Everyone has different facets to their personality. Their flaws are what makes them such great, relatable, believable characters.

And I feel the same way about Camila. She’s an extremely believable character that reminds me of my own parents, flawed but very loving nonetheless.

(Also honestly, I think it’s pretty telling that some of you guys immediately bash the black single mom that’s obviously trying her hardest while giving the benefit of the doubt to Alador, who has been portrayed as neglecting and threatened his six year old daughter on screen. This was already a thing before we knew much about either of them, and I’m disappointed but unfortunately not very surprised that it still is.)

[antisociallilbrat]

Freefall

Read on Ao3

Summary: Bill Denbrough smokes his first cigarette when he’s fourteen years old.

A/N: I am someone who struggles with nicotine addiction. I've been struggling to quit but so far this time is sticking. So what do I do to help me this time? I project onto my favorite character. You've probably heard this a million times but if you have never smoked Do. Not. Start. To those who are also struggling to quit, we got this.

Bill Denbrough smokes his first cigarette when he’s fourteen years old.

Richie and Bev were smoking in their new clubhouse- courtesy of long hard hours put in by none other than Ben Hanscom. The pair were huddled together under the latch door, (at Eddie’s insistence, he has asthma!) their knees knocked together as they passed the cig back and forth. It was winter and even underground the air was brisk. A moth-eaten blanket from Mike Hanlon’s closet that was charitably donated to the clubhouse was draped across their shoulders. Eddie had already made his concerns about them catching the blanket on fire known. Richie had simply called him a worry wart and ruffled his hair. Eddie did not blush. 

Bill was sitting deeper into the clubhouse, his arm lazily draped around the shoulders of Stanley Uris as the boy was deeply invested in the story of Mice and Men. Bill and Stan weren’t a couple, not yet anyways, but they also weren’t just friends. That aspect no longer scared Bill as it used to. When he used to force his mind to keep picturing burning red hair instead of golden curls in his dreams.

Now he just doesn’t care- he fought a space clown, it’s hard to bring yourself to care about social norms after that. They’re not dating, but it’s unspoken that they will- sooner than later. At fourteen (Stan at just thirteen) it feels like he has all the time in the world, and he knows what he has with Stan will last forever so there’s no need to rush it along. Or maybe that’s just what the mind of a fourteen-year-old boy tells himself. 

Mike was flipping through a magazine, casually looking up to smile at his friends, and Ben and Eddie were working on a lego tower that Ben had gotten for an early Christmas present from his aunt. Bill’s eyes kept drifting back to Richie and Bev. They were now sharing a new cigarette, having discretely thrown the butt of their last one in the corner when Eddie wasn’t looking. 

Richie’s magnified eyes met Bill's and the corners of his lips turned up into a Cheshire grin. One that always meant that their Trashmouth was up to mischief. Rich took a hit, white smoke clouding his face on the exhale, and dangled the cig out in his direction, “Wanna hit Big Bill ?” he teased. 

Up until now Bill always declined. No particular reason, just never felt like it. But now Richie is challenging him and he’s never known how to back down from a challenge. He fought a fucking space clown. And honestly, he supposed that it was inevitable that he’d take Richie or Bev up on the offer one of these days. A guarantee that would happen no matter how much he put it off. Like dating Stan. 

Bill looked to Stan who was now looking up from his book. He raised his eyebrows silently asking ‘Will you be mad?’.

Stan was always great at reading Bill so he just rolled his eyes and muttered “It’s your lungs, do what you want,” and went back to reading.

So Bill reached out for the cig between Richie’s fingers with poorly painted black nails. Part of him was a little eager to see what all the fuss was about. Bev and Richie love to smoke so it has to be enjoyable, right?

He wasn’t expecting the horrible taste and barrage of coughing that happened when took his first real hit. Eddie panically smacked him on the back while he was coughing thinking he was helping while Richie laughed his ass off. 

That poor experience didn’t stop him from turning down the next times he was offered a cigarette. The second one sucked still, the third one less so, and by the fourth, he was able to smoke one without making a fool of himself. He never stopped to think about the significance of training your body how to smoke. 

By the time he turned fifteen Bev started sneaking him whole packs like she did Richie. He didn’t consider himself a smoker- he never smoked when he was alone- but there was a certain satisfaction that came with pulling out his own pack when he smoked with Bev and Richie. Somewhere along the way, he discovered that he preferred Marlboro Menthols to Bev and Richie’s Camels. Richie called him a pansy for smoking them but he didn’t care.

At the age of sixteen smoking plain old cigarettes went to the back burner of his mind. Sixteen was the age of high school parties and underage drinking. Most of the parties the Losers weren’t invited to but they showed up anyway. Free beer was there. 

Why would he smoke cigarettes when he could drink beer? Richie would smoke when he was drunk, saying it ��Enhanced the experience,” but soon Bill discovered something called Mary Jane and Richie agreed that that went much better with alcohol. So did Stan, surprisingly. Although Stan always stayed away from cigarettes the rare times they were offered. 

At one point, Bill’s brief fling with cigs was completely forgotten. Stan didn’t want to kiss him when his mouth smelled like an ashtray and Bill was too hormonal to not kiss Stan. He’d much rather smoke a joint with Stan and make out with him in the back of his silver pickup truck. Roaming teenage hands wandering as far as they dared go. 

Then, suddenly, Bill wasn’t a teenager anymore. He was an adult at college. One who quickly realized he could not go to class stoned if he had any hope to pass. He did give the whole college thing an honest go before he eventually dropped out. It was one of those inevitable things again. 

When he was in college he was desperate for anything to take an edge off the tension without losing focus so he picked up smoking again. It wasn’t a big deal; even Stan understood. He smoked more when projects were due and he smoked less on the weekends when he had alcohol and Stan to take the edge off. 

One night, mainly out of curiosity (he’s seen it in movies) after he had fucked Stan good and hard on their twin-sized mattress in their dorm room, he smoked a cigarette. He stood by their cracked window in just his tighty-whities and watched Stan snore softly underneath their duvet. The nicotine in the cigarette only added to his smug satisfaction that he fucked Stan so good that he passed out afterwards. The movies were right, smoking after sex is good. It slowly became a more common thing for Bill, to smoke after sex- much to Stan’s dismay. Thankfully he was usually a sleep when Bill did it. 

As time tends to do, it moved quickly and Bill found himself at twenty-two, a college dropout with a new golden wedding band on his finger, and finishing up his second novel. His first one was a commercial success so the demand was high for him to hurry up and get a second one out. 

Except…this one wasn’t coming to him as easily as the first one did. The characters were too bricked in or they were too loose. The plot was riddled with holes and the bandaids he’d patch over them would just add more.

He found himself smoking more and more but he was too frustrated by the lack of progress on his story that he didn’t notice. It was lucky for Stan that Bill liked to write on the screened-in back porch of their new, quaint, starter home. He could often find Bill sitting back there, typing away on his laptop, a furrow in his brown and a cigarette dangling between his lips. 

Eventually, his second book was written and published. It was an all-around flop. A flop that was quickly forgotten when Bill got a second wind for writing and published his third not too long after. That one went on to be adapted into a movie, which like the book, was a critical success.

The life of Hollywood called to him as he went from Bill Denbrough, a humble writer from Derry Maine, to Bill Denbrough, the Master of Horror.

There were awards and interviews. Dinners with big-time celebrities and articles fruitlessly trying to slander his name. His darling Stan who ran his own accounting firm followed him through this. It didn’t matter if he was dining with The Audra Phillips for a promotion of his next book turned movie, what mattered to him was that Stan was at home waiting for him. 

Stanley managed their income and Bill would even dare say he enjoyed the extra money Bill’s books supplied them with. They had a new home with enough bedrooms for each of the Losers to stay in when they visited and then some. Plush carpets and velvet drapes. Stanley Uris deserved a lavish life and Bill Denbrough was more than happy to give it to him. 

The only thing Stan worried about, often remembering how Bill was back in high school, was that Bill would fall into hard drugs. It was a promise he made Bill make- and he kept it. Except for the one time when at an after-party for some awards show an author he respected came up to him and offered to snort lines of coke with him. The author said everyone who's good at writing snorts coke.

Afterward, he felt like shit. Mainly for breaking his promise to Stan and partly because the drug left him feeling physically ill. His love a fair with cocaine was over before it even began. 

Smoking cigarettes still followed him though. By the time he was thirty, he had tried to quit numerous times. Each time was unsuccessful. He just never even considered it an addiction in the first place. 

He didn’t get addicted to coke and he barely smoked weed anymore. Hell, Stan smoked weed more often than he did, and that was primarily because Stan smoked to help his headaches. Even with drinking Bill never had a problem with it. He would go months (albeit accidently because he was too busy writing his next novel) without an ounce of alcohol entering his system.

Nicotine was just a different story. He used it to cope. A good reason but at this point he smoked almost every chance he got; he’d never admit how many cigs he went through in a day. His lungs hurt. Every cold season he caught the flu because smoking had caused his immune system to go to shit. He had veneers because he didn’t want to have to deal with the effects that smoking would cause on his teeth. 

Bev and Richie had both quit a while ago. Richie vaped but even that was rarely now. Bill was the only one still hooked. He was still in the clubhouse reaching for his first cigarette. 

He had tried everything that was out there to help him quit. Apps, journals, breathing exercises, going cold turkey, the patch, medication, nothing worked. He often denied this but he really was a stubborn man so each failure to quit stressed him and made him frustrated. This just gave him the urge to smoke. A vicious cycle. 

Stan had started whispering about babies. A happy surprise for Bill who always wanted to be a dad. Eddie and Richie had a baby girl via surrogacy named Myra and Bill has seen the way Stan looked at the happy family.

Babies were a big fucking deal but Stan told him plainly that they would not push forward with it if Bill could not quit smoking. He would not bring a child into this world with Bill if he was just going to die of cancer a couple of years down the line. Stan couldn’t do that to their kid. 

It was the first time Stan had ever stated Bill needed to quit. His Stanley knew exactly when to push Bill and when to lay back. The promise of kids with the man he loved was his final push to quit.

The longest he managed to ever quit before was two weeks so he at least knew what to expect. It’s what happened after those two weeks that hit him like a horse. Smokers flu. He honestly thought he was dying. After so many years of his body on nicotine, the withdrawal was a bitch. He sweated more than he thought a human could. Nausea would wrack his stomach at the worst times and his chest felt physically tight. Signs that his body was working the nicotine out of his system. 

Stan didn’t know- and would never know- but Bill almost gave in around the one-month mark. He almost snuck out to go buy a pack while Stan was away for the weekend. What stopped him was the brochure for surrogacy programs he found on Stan’s desk. Bill went back into the living room and gorged himself on Junior Mints instead. 

One month turned into three. There were points where he wanted to break down and smoke again but now he had a distraction. A surrogate by the name of Patty Blum was pregnant with his and Stan’s first child. They both ‘donated’ so they didn’t know who the biological father was. It didn’t matter to them. 

When he got the urge to smoke, he went into their nursery and worked on painting the elaborate mural of birds they were going to have behind the crib. He folded baby clothes and online shopped for binkies.

As the months went on and despite the distractions of his oncoming child, the urge to smoke was still there but so was the sense of newness. He could go up a flight of stairs without breaking into a sweat. He could smell the roses from Stan’s rose garden. He didn’t tire out immediately after having sex with Stan. His lungs felt better. He felt like a new person.

The few times though, when the urge to smoke was overbearing, he would pull out the ultrasound of their unborn daughter. He would trace the nubs of her knees and the roundness of her head and he would whisper to her “I’m not going anywhere peanut.” His daughter isn’t going to have the tragic story of a dad who could not quit smoking and died of cancer.

A year after he quit smoking he was sitting in the nursery, rocking his daughter who was only days old and bundled up in a pink blanket. Georgia May Denbrough cooed softly in her sleep. She looked so much like Stan, and that didn’t bother Bill. It just made him love her more. More than he ever loved smoking. 

Bill Denbrough was thirty-one years old when he held his daughter in his arms for the first time. 

A/N: Thank you for reading! Much love!