#ALSO THEY HAVE LITTLE INFORMATION PAMPHLETS FOR LEARNING ABOUT THINGS

[iris-echos]

Love public libraries

Look around

BOOKS!!!!!!!!

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 · · · · 𝚇𝙸. 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚎 ║ ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡⓔⓓ

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 || 𝚗 𝚊 𝚟 𝚒 𝚐 𝚊 𝚝 𝚒 𝚘 𝚗 || 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!OC/reader

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | CHAPTER CONTENT: POV switching, toxic family dynamics, parental abuse, alcoholism/disordered alcohol use, protective!Joel, domestic fluff, hurt/comfort, beauty in the mundane, learning to be peaceful in the stillness WORD COUNT: 6.8k

| CHAPTER SUMMARY: How odd it is to be haunted by someone who is still alive.

“But what if I miss a payment?”

“You’re not gonna miss a payment,” he assures you for the millionth time.

“And the interest is, like, 27%, so if I miss a payment it’s gonna be so much extra on top of the bill,” you stress.

“Your interest is only that high because you don’t have any credit in your name, baby. It’ll get knocked down eventually – once you build up a good history – but that’s just how it starts out most of the time.”

You can tell he’s about to launch into his comforting finance dialogue yet again, but you don’t stop him. You still need to hear him say it, even if it feels like he’s beating a dead horse at this point. You need the comfort in his assurances, and for once you don’t get down on yourself for needing it and seeking it out.

“And you’re not gonna make huge purchases to start, right? You’re gonna put small, consistent charges on there every month and pay it in full every month. After 6 months to a year, you’ll get a low credit utilization ratio, and you might be able to increase your credit limit. It sounds scary, but it’s really simple. I promise. And I can go over it as many times as you need to feel comfortable with it.”

You gnaw your bottom lip and review the little pamphlets and flyers Joel collected for you. He was insistent about having you use your money not for helping with the mortgage or grocery bill or utilities but rather to open your own bank account and then a line of credit so that you could start building credit in your name and your name solely.

Now you were on a Joel Miller crash course about interest rates, utilization ratios, FICO scoring, and all sorts of other financial planning topics that were meant to help you build a firm foundation for lifelong financial independence and security. You constantly doubted yourself and felt overwhelmed with the volume of information, but Joel was adamant about it. After a while, some of it was finally sticking, and you could only pray that you’d pick up more and more of it each time.

Your payments were scheduled automatically now through your online banking, which he also helped you set up, and he helped you get into the habit of keeping track of things on the phone app. “If it’s easy enough for me to do it, I know you won’t have any issue with it” he’d laughed when he first installed it. He was honest to god excited about how much you’d be able to put into savings over the course of the next five years. 

The concept of five years into the future felt hard to conceptualize. You were still getting used to staying on your feet most days and taking more onto your plate when possible. But to Joel, it was something just around the corner. He talked about it as though it was clear as day in his mind’s eye. He saw that future for you – for the both of you – so easily.

The thrum of your pulse felt sticky every time at the casual insinuation that he’d be there to see it, that you and him would still be together and happy and in love, but your stomach lurched at the thought of it. 

He cared an awful lot about you. That much was clear. It was the whole acknowledging the whole being in love thing that made it harder to fathom. It felt dangerously hopeful. It was hard enough to admit to yourself that you loved him, even though there was really no denying it at this point. But that awful, nagging worry still nipped at your heels: would he grow tired of it all one of these days? The mollycoddling and constant instruction for shit you should’ve had all figured out by now?

There was no real concept of losing him in your head because that was even harder to envision than anything else. Your thoughts flipped over to a blank slide when you even tried to imagine what it would feel like to not have him in your life. When the nerves of it all started to prick and sting and make you nauseous, those were the moments you held him a little closer to you until the fear subsided.

Joel doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s watching you, all bent over the edge of the deck with your little stack of porcelain plates that you carefully arrange in a neat line along the step.

“Madeline and Helen, you’re over here,” you call over your shoulder to the two grungy “frenemy” cats, as you’d dubbed them.

He snorts and shakes his head, but you just ignore him and continue with your task. All the plates are dispersed, and your usual hoard of neighborhood cats have come meowing and pawing for the “good brand wet food” you insisted on buying for them. When you first started this habit of spoiling the “cat collective,” Joel had been surprised to learn that so many stray cats roamed the neighborhood. That was, until he noticed that many of them had collars and tags. Despite belonging to a nearby family and having perfectly good homes, they regularly showed up like the greedy, indulgent creatures they were.

You didn’t mind, though. You were delighted to greet them all every night like the informal mayor of some feline city. You gave them names despite some tags displaying an entirely different moniker. They responded to whatever you called them, though, so he really had no room to say anything about that. The corner of his mouth twitched up as he watched you slip into your little routine. You’d taken to giving them all nicknames or new names, mostly from movies you’ve watched together.

When the two “frenemy cats” had gotten into a little brawl on the stairs a few weeks back, you broke up their fight and giggled to yourself when you came up with the grand idea of naming them after characters from Death Becomes Her. He shared in a laugh at the fitting names you chose, and you flashed him a million kilowatt smile that made his knees weak.

He watches in open amusement as you chide Walter –  the rotund, irritable tabby that struggles to play nice with others once he’s gobbled up his own dish and is unable to bully others for theirs. You’d quoted “you’re outta your element, Donny!” to Walter about a half dozen times by now, but he never seemed to find your references to The Big Lebowski as hilarious as you did. The grumpy furball looks up at you, annoyed but put in his place, and allows you to scratch his head.

While you made your nightly circuit, Joel scanned the back deck, surveying a potential spot for a small safehouse unit. Might as well start looking into building a heated, insulated area for all these cats since you’ll probably worry yourself sick over how cold they could get in the winter without proper shelter. They could always carry their asses back to their own houses in the neighborhood, but, knowing you, the thought of “what if?” would make you fret enough that he wants to have a plan and build ready to go when it’s time. He tucks it into his mind for later, just like so many other ideas and dreams and possible futures with you.

For now he enjoys giving you the space to indulge in the things that make you happy, a freedom to do something not because there’s an end goal in mind but because it makes you feel radiant in the moment. He loves to see what you latch onto without the angry voice of a controlling dirtbag berating you and making you feel insignificant and frivolous just for finding joy in things.

Watching you shift from constantly on edge to relaxed was a reward all in itself. It was most noticeable at night. You’d stir so frequently in bed those first few weeks after moving in. It might’ve been the new house noises, sure, but there’s no doubt the learned vigilance was a big part of your tendency to be a light sleeper. When you’d startle awake, he’d wake, too. You’d be apologetic and sometimes even a little embarrassed at being so jumpy “over nothing.” He’d just pull you closer and tell you it was okay and to try to go back to sleep. It took a while before it really sunk in, but eventually falling asleep and staying asleep came easier to you.

He was constantly discovering new ways your upbringing and home life had carved these jagged neural pathways in your mind. He didn’t know what the answer was for some of them, other than time, but for the simpler things, like letting you freely explore hobbies and whims, he’d jump at the opportunity to give you that sort of life.

“Do you think I could just… wear some shorts and a shirt? I mean….”

Your words taper off as you stare down at the dress Sarah had ordered online along with the pretty blue one you wore to Kenzie’s graduation ceremony. You didn’t want to repeat the blue dress when you’d just worn it so recently, but you really didn’t want to be up moving around and socializing in a dress all day anyway. Plus, the temperature had crept up steadily now that Memorial Day had just come and gone. Ideally it was denim cutoffs and tank top weather, but you could deal with some linen type shorts and a t-shirt for the sake of a party.

“I’ll match with whatever you put on, so just go with somethin’ comfortable,” he suggests. “There’s worse things than being underdressed for a college graduation party. I doubt anybody’ll even care, honey.”

He was probably right, but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself and drag Joel down with you. Attending parties and looking the part of a well put-together couple was new for you, and there was only so much “fake it ‘til you make it” bravado that could pull you through these sorts of settings. Joel dons a pair of darkwash, neat jeans with a short-sleeved button up, and you huff loudly at how easy he makes things look. 

He catches your toothless irritation and shoots you a wink before grabbing the dress and hanging it up in your shared closet.

“C’mon, let’s look at the shirt options ya got,” he encourages.

The lack of options ended up being a bit of a blessing because it meant you weren’t overwhelmed with choices.  You wind up settling on a spaghetti strap top that’s nice and flowy with a small bow detail in the back. It wasn’t the fanciest thing, but it was dressier than a plain t-shirt. A once over in the mirror reflected a pretty well put together outfit, and your shoulders relaxed with the crisis having been avoided thanks to Joel. He, of course, looked effortlessly handsome and casual.

The drive to Kenzie’s house for the party is uneventful, as are most of your driving excursions these days. Pretty soon you’ll accrue enough hours of road time to take the test to be an actual, bonafide licensed driver. Joel is in his usual spot in the passenger seat with a hand resting on your thigh, calming and a reminder that you’ve got help if you need it. 

The half-circle drive is full of cars with brands you’re sure you could never pronounce correctly. The front of the house and down the street is lined with more of the same, and Joel takes mercy on you when it’s time to parallel park, swapping seats with you and taking over. You watch the confident stretch of his arm along the back of your seat as he reverses neatly into a spot. He hops out to get the door for you, and you both comment on the lavish decorations as you walk into the party.

There’s way more people in attendance than you anticipated, and you just hope you won’t have to socialize too much with people you’re probably never going to see again. Kenzie’s dad spots you and makes his way over to extend a firm handshake to Joel and a warm side hug to you. He doesn’t stick around for long as he returns to his hosting duties, but he flags down a member of the waitstaff for beverages before politely excusing himself to continue on his rounds.

Joel whistles low and cocks a brow as he takes in all of the setup. “Nice lookin’ party.”

You laugh under your breath at the understatement of the century. “It’s insane. This could be somebody’s wedding! It’s freaking gorgeous,” you gush.

He agrees silently, sipping on his cocktail and wrapping his free hand around your lower back and waist. He points out that most people seem to be either wearing business casual adjacent looks or something more formal, which places you both a little underdressed but not so much that you stick out. You also observe that he was right about people not really seeming to notice or care what you had on. It made you feel a bit more relaxed as you sought out Kenzie.

So far you hadn’t come across anyone you knew, but it wasn’t awkward with Joel by your side. He had that poised, assured air about him like always, and it made everything feel manageable. Under control. Free of chaos.

“Ooohhh, hey!” a high pitched squeal sounds across an open path of people. You turn to see someone you recognize but can’t remember her name. You refresh Joel’s memory that this is Kenzie’s friend who had asked him at the graduation about any single brothers, cousins, or nephews that he might have. She shimmies up to you and waves excitedly.

“There’s my little matchmakers!”

Joel laughs awkwardly and shakes his head. “Sorry to tell you, er….” he trails off, her name clearly not springing to his mind either.

Thankfully she doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, and you're not entirely convinced she’s aware of much at all. “Sel,” she supplies with a bright smile.

“Sel, right,” he amends. “Sorry to tell you, Sel, but we are unfortunately here sans eligible bachelors.”

She makes an exaggerated pouty face before busting into a fit of giggles and shrugging. “Aw, dammit. Can’t win ‘em all, I guess. Well, it was good seeing you!”

She struts away without another word, and you and Joel exchange an amused look.

“Wonder how many of these she’s had,” Joel chuckles, shaking his half empty cocktail glass.

You giggle and playfully slap his side. “Oh, shush. She’s entitled to celebrate a little bit. It’s gotta feel good getting that degree after being in school for four years,” you contend.

He bobs his head in passive agreement. “Now remind me again why your friend was workin’ with you in a grocery store when she’s got all this waiting for her back home? Coulda just focused on her studies, couldn’t she’ve?”

It was a fair question. Why on earth would someone work a minimum wage, public facing job if their family could afford this sort of lifestyle? 

“She told me before that her dad wanted her to know what the ‘real world’ was like. I’m pretty sure he didn’t grow up with a whole lot, and I guess he didn’t want his kids to end up spoiled or whatever.”

Joel nods his head like that makes perfect sense to him. “Explains why her dad seems like a decent guy. Doesn’t have that ‘daddy’s money’ attitude. Your friend doesn’t either for that matter, so I guess he’s done a pretty good job keepin’ her level headed.”

When you finally do come across Kenzie, she seems a bit frazzled. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her so uptight and serious. She hastily explains that she’s spent the entire party schmoozing with all her dad’s “dumb important friends” and hasn’t had a chance to relax at all. You feel a bit sorry for her, but you know she’ll probably end up with extravagant gifts from said family friends in exchange for a few social niceties. 

Your eye lands on a familiar looking man whose identity isn’t readily placed. Was he at the graduation ceremony, too? Was he the dad to one of Kenzie’s friends? He looks at you for a split second like he recognizes you as well, before he looks away, disinterested. You shrug it off. Maybe he’s just got one of those faces.

Kenzie’s dad comes back around and asks if he can “borrow Joel for a minute,” to which you assure Joel you’re fine without his company for a little while. He shoots you one last worried glance over his shoulder as Kenzie’s dad claps a hand against his back and starts up the construction conversation they’d been having at the ceremony. You watch Joel’s reluctant figure weave through the crowd until he’s following Kenzie’s dad inside the house through a large side door. 

The sea of attendees around you make for good people watching. You wouldn’t admit it to Joel, but not having him by your side feels strange and a bit vulnerable, especially now that you spend practically every waking moment together. It was something you’d become rather accustomed to, and with your nerves starting to pick up again you remind yourself that it’s healthy to do things on your own every once in a while. You’d done it plenty in your life, and being subjected to it now wouldn’t kill you. 

A solid twenty minutes have passed, and you distract yourself with the abundance of ornate decorations.

Deeper into the backyard is a small bunching of rose bushes. The delicate folds of pink petals have you considering asking Joel if he could plant this sort of thing in your backyard. You smile gently to yourself, running a fingertip along the velvet furl of the rosette. Your backyard. Together. A little garden of eden right smack dab in the middle of Texas.

Sentimental musings are cut short with the announcement of a “few words shared on the eastern lawn” in about five minutes. Throngs of guests begin making their way toward the tabled section that you assume is the “eastern lawn,” and Joel is still nowhere in sight.

You hang back and check your phone. No texts or missed calls. You call him, but it rings until it goes through to voicemail. He’d probably muted it for the party. You decide to just go look for him in the house, letting yourself into the same side door they’d used when they went inside almost 30 minutes ago. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d gotten carried away talking business.

A welcomed cool breeze butts against your bare skin when you slip inside, the indoor AC a stark difference to the looming summer heat outside. A pristine and stately kitchen filled with stock for the party greets you: ice filled coolers, wrapped trays of hor d’oeuvres lining the countertops, napkins and utensils and glassware all stacked to the side and ready to go when toasts are made. The smooth marble counters give an air of quiet opulence, made all the more silent with no noise coming from anywhere in the house.

A sliver of a stairwell is visible just around the corner. A separate hallway stretches door after door, no light glowing from any of the rooms behind them. A dull babble of laughter and conversation outside at the opposite end of the house is practically a white noise in this massive, empty space. Joel’s deep timbre is absent. No creaking footsteps from upstairs. No friendly hum of conversation.

It felt a bit intrusive to just waltz upstairs to look for him, but it’s not like you didn’t have a good reason to be looking around. Surely at the very least Kenzie’s dad wouldn’t want to miss whatever was about to happen on the eastern lawn.

“Can’t say I’m surprised to find you hiding out in here.”

The familiar voice cuts through your chest, your heart clenching sharply as you turn to find your dad wearing a nasty, callous expression. He looks more exhausted than you remember, somehow more dead in the eyes. It’s only been a few weeks since you’ve last seen him, but he stands before you more gnarled and sickly than memory serves. His skin shines with a thin layer of perspiration, and his lips are so dry and chapped it’s as if all the moisture in his body is steadily exiting through the gathering beads of sweat along his brow. His eyes are sluggish but malevolent, darting all along your face and body as though he’s taking inventory of your present state.

The words you wish to scream, for him to get away from you, get twisted and caught in your throat. You stand there, infuriatingly mute, and await whatever venom he’s here to deliver. He makes no rush as he walks fully into the room and slides the door shut. He looks so out of place here, in your world. In your life. A living ghost here to haunt you once more.

“Takes guts to be at somebody’s party celebrating everything you’ll never be.” He pauses to let the barb cleave and carve, laughing to himself as he continues, “ I mean, imagine you a college graduate. Barely fucking graduated high school.”

His line of sight wanders around the room as he picks you apart. Although his air is indifferent and unrushed, you have an odd, sneaking feeling that he doesn’t want to look you in the eye again until he’s established a rhythm of cutting you down, as though your absence has left him feeling out of sorts and unpracticed in destruction.

“Some hell of a fluke that the driven, successful young ladies here at this party see anything in common with a loser like you.”

His eyes slip over to yours again, narrowing with palpable hatred. “Can’t imagine any of them are a complete embarrassment to their families.”

“What are you doing here?” you finally manage to spit out.

He bobs on the balls of his feet, stepping around airily with his hands in his pockets like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like he found all of this an amusing way to pass the time. Like he hadn’t just cannonballed himself into your life again.

“Got a funny text from an, uh, acquaintance of mine. A picture of you, sticking out like a sore thumb. Surrounded by better dressed people. Way outta your social class.”

Embarrassment warms the back of your neck and the tips of your ears at his astute, cutting words.

“Had my friend wondering if he was imagining it was you - misremembering your face, maybe – especially since he didn’t see me anywhere nearby. Told him he was right and that I’d be sure to come say hello when I dropped in.  He was nice enough to remind me of the address. What a guy,” he finishes in a dry tone.

He laughs, a hollow and mirthless sound, and takes a step forward, hands shoved in his pockets that you now realize are balled into fists. His voice was steady enough, but the fury bubbling beneath the surface was quickly rising to the tipping point. There was no doubt he’d been drinking heavily – that dangerous teetering between being dampened by the alcohol and being livid that it still didn’t make all his problems fade away into a muted, ignorable thing.

“How much have you had today?” you lob at him. “Or has it just carried over from last night?”

He laughs again, just as empty and forced as the first. “It’s funny because, the thing is, I can promise you there’s no amount of whiskey that could make me as delusional as you are. I mean, parading around this party in what? Backyard barbecue clothes? Can’t even put together a decent outfit for one day, but you expect to keep up with these people? College graduates getting real jobs, not just some entry level bullshit you sucked off some old jackass for.”

Heat rises on your chest and neck at the insinuation that Joel only offered you the job in return for sexual favors. You jut your chin out defiantly but can’t find the words to say. Can’t find the words that will defend yourself. Defend Joel. Make your dad leave with his tail between his legs. He takes your silence as another opportunity to tear you down.

“You think you got real friends here? How many times do you think they’re gonna cover your tab? Spot you $100? Invite you to weekend trips? Hm? How many times are they gonna get out their wallets before they see you for the leech that you are?” he hisses.

“I think you need to leave,” you warn with a tremble tacked to the last word.

“And don’t get me started on that middle aged perv you got brainwashed into giving a shit about you,” he continues, completely ignoring your reproval. “He might be giving you a little allowance for now, but I give it a few years max before he dumps you for the next young bimbo he can use to wet his dick. Of course you’re too fucking stupid to realize that. It would be funny if it weren’t so fucking pathetic.”

“Get the fuck out of here,” you snap, adrenaline rushing through you now and helping to supply the harsh words. 

His eyes crinkle with a malicious smirk, like he revels in finally having got to you. 

“Or what?” he sneers. “All you can ever manage to do when things get tough is run. So, what are you gonna do now? Run?”

You don’t miss the challenge in his tone, daring you to try to leave before he gives you permission to do so. 

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE NOW.”

The curve of his mouth is sickly sweet, a slip of red the only thing standing between you and his corrosive words. His gate is unhurried walking towards the door, leaning against it in a lazy show of provocation as he blocks it. The shrill tempo of your pulse in your ears grows louder while you stare each other down. It’s a dangerous game of calling the other’s bluff, and you know he’s banking on you fleeing. You know he wants to track you down and catch you this time before you can get away, just to prove that your actions wouldn’t go unpunished. Just to remind you of who’s in control. 

But something contrarian and fortified slinks between your ribcage and finds purchase there next to the hum of your heart. 

He doesn’t make the rules anymore. 

This is no longer his game that you’re forced to play just to survive. You don’t live in this nightmare anymore. This isn’t your life now. 

He doesn’t control you anymore.

“You’re a really sad person, dad.” 

The somatic buzz kindling and catching inside you yields a wave of goosebumps all over your body, the shake in your hands and voice just a timid thing that stays barely in check. You still your head and really look at the fractured shell of a man in front of you, and it’s more obvious than ever: he’s more lost than you’ve ever been and ever will be.

“You’re never gonna be happy,” you assert.

It all floods you now, a blurred picture coming into focus. That clarity you’d sought so long but never had with the mind muddling environment of abuse. But suddenly you aren’t searching for the words anymore. They’re all right on the tip of your tongue and ready to depart.

“You’re gonna die sad and miserable and probably alone, and I know that has to eat you up inside to finally realize it. That no matter how much you try to put your anger and your– and your pain onto others, it still doesn’t make it go away inside of you.”

His balled fists rest at his sides, heaving breaths moving his chest like the snap of a rubber band.

“You can’t hurt me anymore. You can’t hurt anybody I care about anymore. You don’t have the power like you used to. You’re just… you’re just nothing, dad. An empty person who’s trapped inside his own mind like a prison. And-And honestly? I feel bad for you.”

The flicker of surprise at your words graces his worn features before quickly being replaced with a deep scowl. For once it’s him cornered into a stunned silence, but you have no intention of letting up.

“I left, dad. Don’t you get it? I’m done. You don’t have power over me like that. Not anymore. The sooner you realize that, the less of your life you’ll waste trying to hurt me again because it’s not going to happen. You tried to break me down and take away everything, and it still didn’t work. I’m not broken like you. I’m gonna be okay, no matter how much you hate that. And you can call me a loser as many times as you want, but it won’t change the fact that it’s really you who’s lost out on everything in life.”

A heavy air lingers, but you feel lighter than you ever have. Your deep, centering inhale punctuates the finality of the meeting.

“I’m gonna go now, and I think you should leave the party before something bad happens.”

The urge to scurry away from the danger rises, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction. You refuse to let him see you run from him anymore. 

Of course, it was never likely that he’d just let it go so easily. 

Menacing stomps follow your measured stride towards the stairwell, your exit cut short by his piercing grip around your bicep and the sharp whip of your body as he yanks you sideways to face him. The smell of alcohol comes off him like a foggy wet cloud.

“You think you just get to leave in the middle of the night like a disgusting, slimy rat and not have to answer for it?” he fumes, his nose pressing against yours when he hauls you face to face.

He doesn’t control you anymore. 

He doesn’t control you anymore. 

He doesn’t control you anymore.

There’s no hesitation in your movements, wrenching your arm from his grasp and slamming the butt of your palm into his nose. As clumsy as the unfamiliar motion is, it affords a moment of frozen shock from your father, which you take as an opening to rear back and slap him with as much force as you can muster. Your hand immediately prickles and tingles from the impact.

The few feet of space apart that you gain is quickly closed when he charges at you with a raised, clenched hand ready to strike. The fact that you’ve never fought back before seems to be your saving grace in this moment, the disorientation of you actually resisting and challenging him making his approach unsteady and delayed.

Your hand still stings from the slap as you wad it up and swing it into his gut before he can make contact with you. He sputters and doubles over in shock at the unexpected blow, but the late retribution still comes sooner than you anticipated. He readies to ambush you, lip curled over his bared teeth, when something smashes and shatters into the wall beside his head.

“I was hoping you’d show up one of these days and make trouble just so I’d have the fucking excuse to beat you within an inch of your fucking life,” Joel growls.

It’s a blur of violence as he barrels into your dad, tackling him to the floor in one headlong motion, and lands two punches before it can even register. The clamor draws more people, one of them being Kenzie’s dad who you spot darting back out of the room with his phone to his head — you assume to call the police. A handful of waitstaff hang at the perimeter of the commotion, gawking at the all out brawl taking place in the middle of the kitchen. You aren’t much better, just standing there rooted to the spot in an adrenaline freeze, as your dad manages to topple Joel onto his back and land a punch to his jaw.

By the time they flip again, two men have been alerted to the fight and brought inside to intervene. They aren’t dressed like the other waitstaff, but it’s clear they’re here working the event in some other capacity. A frenzied

yelp pierces the air as Joel digs his knees into your dad’s elbows, pinning him to the ground. Joel yanks a chilled bottle of wine from a nearby bucket and smashes the neck of it against the edge of the counter. The light catches on all the jagged edges of broken glass when he raises it in the air and flips it over in a drive directly into your dad’s mouth, who instantly gurgles and gags at the influx of liquid and serrated opening.

“You look real thirsty,” Joel taunts. “Have a drink. This one’s on me.”

Pockets of liquid jet out from the side of your dad’s mouth as he chokes on it, Joel holding the bottle snug in place as the contents pour out. The two men in matching black uniform shout “break it up, fellas,” which falls on deaf ears. The liquid eventually empties, and the bottle cracks into several more pieces when Joel slams it against your dad’s temple. Blood spills and mixes with the choked out liquid, pooling and smearing across the floor.

The two men quickly lodge themselves between the two when a flurry of fists and kicks and jabs from Joel start right back up. He manages to get one last closed hand strike to your dad’s face and one crushing stomp to his thigh as the bigger of the two uniformed men finally drags him away. Your dad lies motionless on the floor as the man scolds Joel for taking “cheap shots” instead of heeding the calls to break the fight up like they’d asked.

Joel wears a flinty, unrepentant sneer that only deepens when his eyes cast down to your unmoving but groaning dad. He spits a bloody pool of saliva onto him as he’s ushered to the other side of the kitchen.

“Put your hands on her again, asshole. See if you walk away the next time.”

You can feel all the eyes in the room slip over to you, making the connection of what had started this entire mess. Some of the faces lose their look of pity for your dad, all crumpled and thrashed in a feeble sprawl on the floor. 

“You okay, baby? He hurt you?” Joel demands.

He doesn’t wait for you to respond, instead running impatient hands all along your body to assess for injury.

“I’m okay,” you answer, and it’s a relief to be able to offer that in truth. “I was holding him off long enough for you to get to me.”

His shoulders sag with the reassurance that you’ve not been harmed, hands roaming up to gently cup your jaw and search your face for any lingering distress. You don’t turn away, content to let him find the undercurrent of peace that swells within you, held in his arms. 

It’s the first Father’s Day since you severed contact. Calum had already gleefully sent you a picture of your dad’s mugshot, framed and hung on a wall in his apartment. Having the advantage of knowing you were safe and sound while he listened to the recap of Kenzie’s party meant he got to enjoy every last bit of comeuppance relayed. He’d cheered you on when you recalled how you’d defended yourself, verbally and physically, and he demanded to complement Joel directly on his part in all of it before he let you hang up.

Kenzie’s dad was the first to press charges, having absolutely no qualms about sending a message to the guy who almost ruined his daughter’s graduation party. It didn’t hurt that he had connections with some law enforcement higher ups, more than enough “fuck you money” to throw around, and a top notch lawyer on retainer ready to let the long arm of the law screw your dad over. With a neutral but supportive nudge from Joel, you also pressed charges.

When all was said and done, your dad was looking at: trespassing, assault, battery, menacing, criminal mischief, disorderly intoxication, disorderly conduct, false imprisonment, stalking, driving while intoxicated, open container in a motor vehicle, property damage, and a smattering of any other offense that the lawyer could manage to unearth, ready to assist his client in rubbing salt into your dad’s wound.

You weren’t sure how much of it was going to stick or what the outcome would be, but it sure as hell didn’t look good to have a pending imputation like that with a job like his. Hell, any employer would look sideways at a string of legal infractions that extensive and that damning. It wasn’t exactly something tenure and bullshitting could smooth over. And if Kenzie’s dad had any say in the proceedings, your dad wasn’t going to get off the hook easily.

“You’re just buttering your old man up now,” Joel chortles to the screen.

You smile to yourself as you listen to his and Sarah’s video chat. She couldn’t make it back home to celebrate in person, but she’d made sure to call and lay the sweet talk on thick.

“Yeah, but it’s obviously working, sssoooooooo….”

“Little shit,” he chuckles under his breath, walking aimlessly through the house and out onto the back deck.

You hear him laugh loudly a couple minutes later, and you can’t help but join in with your own giggle. Eventually the cadence of his voice changes into words of endearment and goodbyes. He tucks his phone into his pocket as he rounds the corner.

“You’re a really good dad,” you observe warmly.

The corner of his mouth ticks up softly at the compliment, but he takes his time walking over to where you’re sat comfortably on the couch before responding. “Ya think so, huh?”

“Yeah. I do.” 

Your voice is steady and pointed. You want him to know you mean it. You might not have a personal reference to defend your position, but you know without a doubt that Joel Miller is the best father and deserves to hear it every day of his life.

He pauses for a moment before asking, “You doin’ okay? Is the day botherin’ you at all?”

You assume he means the fact that it’s Father’s Day and you have a strong contender for worst dad on the planet.

“I actually– it might sound weird, but I actually feel really light. I feel good.”

“Not weird at all,” he assures you, plopping down next to you and scooping your legs to lay across his lap so he can rub your ankles and calves. “Dead weight is dead weight. Not bein’ weighed down by him’s gotta feel like you’re finally able to live the life you deserve. Deserve the damn moon on a string for all the shit he’s put you through.”

You exhale, an amused little sound. “You’re doing it again.”

“What? What am I doin’?”

“Gunning for Best Boyfriend in the World award.”

“Remind me again what put me in the running,” he teases and leans in for a kiss.

“A million things, but today it’s mostly just– seeing you be who you are. Getting to experience that and be a part of it.”

The air of levity dampens a bit when you reach for his hands and draw him closer, and he recognizes the shift from playful to earnest.

“I think sometimes people are just meant to… they’re made for showing love. They’re made to pour their love into special people, people they love. And they are the most happy when they get to do that. I think- I think that’s you. I think you pour your love into people, and that’s when you’re happiest. To see the people you love being filled with your love.”

“Goddamn, honey, Sarah already made me all mushy,” he grouses, suddenly blinking rapidly with glossy eyes. “Y’all are gonna have me a blubbering baby if y’all don’t quit.”

But you can’t stop. You can’t hold it in. You can’t keep yourself from gushing about this beautiful person you’ve been lucky enough to know and create this life with.

“I love you, Joel. I’m in love with you.” 

It comes out without thinking, but it’s meant for this moment. There’s no hesitation or regret in it. You want to say it again.

“I love you,” you repeat, drawing on the intoxication and freedom of it finally being spoken.

“I love you, too, honey,” he returns softly. “So damn much. Love you so damn much.”

tagging:

@copperhalfcent @guelyury @keylimebeag @magpiepills @bizarrelove-triangle

@missladym1981 @wand-erer5 @koshkaj-blog @bubble-pop-eclectic @lovelyladiess

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@fishingforpike @drunk-and-capable @sheepdogchick3 @pastelpinkflowerlife @bonezone44

@guiltyasdave @toomanystoriessolittletime

[tatzelwyrm]

I need a moment to yell about what a tragic and interesting character Emma is.

Yes, she's been placed in a stereotypically female role as the healer and the guide for the male protagonist. She's a doctor, a caregiver, yes, but there is so much more to her. She is integral to so much of the heartbreak in this story and not because she isn't trying. She just can't escape it.

She's not a fighter, but she has a sword, and the reason she learned how to use it is specifically because she is waiting for a man who means the world to her to turn into a demon so she can kill him.

The Sculptor rescued her from a battlefield when she was a small child and starving. He helped raise her and eventually placed her in Dogen's care.

She visits him often, she asks for his advice on some really difficult, delicate matters.

This is her father in all the ways that matter (and he's actually a good father compared to some other fathers in this story). She clearly respects and loves him.

And she also knows that he is turning into a demon and the only thing she can do about it is make sure she is ready to kill him when the time comes.

Her relationship with Isshin is also tied up in this. Isshin is her lord. He is also her teacher, since he is the one who trained her in swordsmanship.

Isshin's skill with the sword is so fabled they call him the Sword Saint. This guy lives to swordfight. His greatest achievement (according to him) isn't killing a tyrant and freeing his country, it's developing his own fighting style that he never stopped trying to improve it (and he hands out pamphlets about it).

That's the guy Emma got to train her.

Isshin got a tutor to train his beloved grandson (as is proper), but he trained Emma himself and it doesn't come as a surprise once you learn that Isshin was the one who stopped the Sculptor from turning into Shura before.

Emma must have told him what she wanted to learn swordsmanship for.

Imagine Emma asking Isshin to train her in swordsmanship. Isshin, who fought Shura and lived, must have looked at this small, waifish woman and asked her why. And then he ended up teaching her anyway.

Specifically so she can kill a demon.

(And the beautiful thing about this, in terms of Sekiro being a video game, is that this is not just something we're informed of, but it's reflected in the actual gameplay. If you end up fighting her, Emma's moveset is a slimmed down, slightly less reactive version of Grandpa Isshin's. She has the same perilous attacks (including the same grab), she has Ashina cross, she does that little slash if you stick too close.

Conversely, Genichiro, despite being Isshin's heir, fights nothing like his grandfather. Because he was taught by Tomoe. Actually, the way fighting styles are used for characterisation is another thing that has me raving about this game. Like the fact that Owl is the only enemy in the entire game who can perform a Mikiri counter...).

However, Isshin isn't just her lord and her teacher. He also dresses up as a mythological figure to hunt down spies and those of his grandson's allies he doesn't approve of in his castle. Emma knows this. Isshin knows Emma knows this and she gets away with teasing her about it. They have a cute, friendly relationship.

But more importantly, Isshin is also her patient and they both know he's dying.

There's this inevitableness about all of Emma's relationships. See also Genichiro: Emma and he were childhood friends. They used to hang out with Takeru and Tomoe by the sakura tree. If you share enough sake with her she'll tell you about how she used to sneak out of the castle to watch Genichiro pratice Tomoe's Lightning (and did Genichiro taking his shirt off when he does that move have anything to do with that?)

But she's spending enough time with Isshin to know that Genichiro's days, too, are numbered. And there's that sad memory in which she tells Kuro about the sediment and how people who use it lose their humanity bit by bit.

Oh, and since I mentioned Tomoe ... if you pursue the Purification route, you find out that Emma saw Tomoe attempt Purification (which only failed because she didn't have the Mortal Blade). Emma saw Tomoe, presumably her friend, attempt suicide. To spare Takeru.

And then there's Wolf and Kuro. Who not only act as a catalyst for the Genichiro situation to finally turn to shit. She also soon realises that Wolf and Kuro find themselves in the same bind as Takeru and Tomoe.

And with the knowledge that at least one of them has to die, one of them a small child, she chooses to let the child die and save the man. Witholding the information on how to attempt Purification is one of very few choices Emma actually gets to make in this story. Everything else is ripped from her control (Sculptor's condition, Isshin's condition, Genichiro's condition, the situation the entire country is in). And it's such an interesting choice to make for her.

There's this child, who is convinced that the only way to end the curse of immortality is for him to have his head cut off with a magic sword. And her choice is whether or not to tell the depressed Shinobi looking after this boy that there's an option for the child to live but it requires the Shinobi to cut his own head off instead.

And she chooses to say nothing.

She's making her decision and in doing so, she's effectively taking the choice away from Wolf. And it eventually leads to even more heartbreak, because if you actually make Wolf kill Kuro, Wolf is miserable for the rest of his days, taking the place of the Sculptor and set to eventually turn into a demon himself.

And that's so interesting.

And every day I'm cursing the gaming gods because Fromsoft hasn't made more story games like this.

Break my heart again, I can take it.

[elisajdb]

Vacation

“Momma, are you going on vacation this year?”

Chi-Chi rubbed Goten’s head teasingly as she picked up the empty platter on the table. “I won’t be going on any vacations unless it’s with my husband and sons.”

Goku scooped the remaining breakfast on his plate before Chi-Chi stacked that platter over the other one. “What vacation?” Goku knew of family vacations. He didn’t know Chi-Chi went on vacations by herself.

“Every year, Grandpa sends Momma on vacation,” Goten informed Goku.

“Mom takes care of us all year,” Gohan explained. “She deserves a week to herself. So Grandpa sends her to a resort on Kiwi Island.”

“I don’t need to do that anymore,” Chi-Chi added the empty dishes to the sink. “Your father is home and it’s always lonely without my family.”

“But we have so much fun at Grandpa’s,” Goten whined.

Chi-Chi wasn’t surprised Goten still wanted her to go. She knew of the antics he got into at his Grandpa’s castle. She spoiled Goten more than Gohan but her father was ten times worse. “Are you saying you want me to go so you can have fun at Grandpa’s?”

Gohan grinned at his little brother covering his embarrassed mouth. “We also think you need a break, Mom. Every day you’re cooking and taking care of us. You deserve time to take care of yourself.”

She always protested and had to be forced to go but once she did, Chi-Chi did enjoy herself. It was a lot taking care of Gohan and Goten alone. Her Dad helped when he could and that involved him giving her money. It wasn’t the same as having a husband to help. Goku was back and though she did most of the duties such as cleaning, cooking and fixing the tears of their clothes, Goku did help keep Goten busy so she could finish her work. He also worked on a farm to help financially. Because Goku was back, Chi-Chi was hesitant to go.

“What do you think, Goku?”

Goku didn’t want Chi-Chi to go but as he adjusted to returning to life, he learned everyone did things differently. Goku didn’t think his return should change that. “If that’s what you’ve been doing since I was dead, you should keep doing it.”

Chi-Chi thought Goku would want her to stay. It was one thing leaving her sons to her father and go on a vacation but it didn’t sit right to leave her husband, too. “I send the boys to my Dad. Are you going with them?”

Goku frowned. Why would he do that? “I’m staying here. I thought we all were.”

“So, we’re not going to Grandpa’s?” Goten pouted. “I wanted to play in Grandpa’s pool and have his staff give me what I want.”

“I knew Grandpa was spoiling you.”

“Go on vacation, Mom,” Gohan encouraged Chi-Chi. “The three of us can handle being here without you.”

“Here?” Goten didn’t want to stay home. He wanted to play at Grandpa’s castle.

“Yes, here,” Gohan playfully flicked Goten’s forehead. “We’ll cook our food. We’ll do our laundry. We’ll clean the house. We won’t have to go to Grandpa’s.”

“Here? The three of you?” Goku, Gohan and Goten can be in the house without her but could they handle the cooking, the laundry and keeping up the house for a week?

If I go on this vacation, what is waiting for me when I come back?

Goku looked through a pamphlet about the resort Chi-Chi will vacation on while she pulled two suitcases from their closet and placed them on the bed. Though it was settled, Goku wasn’t sure about Chi-Chi going on vacation. They always went on vacation as a family. The only times Goku was away from his sons, he was dead, training or going on one of those date nights with Chi-Chi. When Gohan was younger, Goku and Chi-Chi left Gohan with Gyumao and went away for three days. Since his return, Goku and Chi-Chi’s only time alone happened in their bedroom.

Maybe that’s what’s bothering me about this trip.

Goku knew he couldn’t complain about it. He was dead for seven years. Goku thought he left Chi-Chi with a child who was nearly an adult and could take care of himself. He didn’t know he left his wife pregnant. Raising Gohan was exhausting for him and Chi-Chi in the early years. He couldn’t imagine how much harder it was for Chi-Chi with Goten. Gohan was there but he wasn’t.

No wonder she needed a vacation.

“When did these vacations start?”

Chi-Chi folded a couple of summer dresses and placed them in her suitcase. “Goten was almost three when my Dad suggested it. Well,” Chi-Chi laughed. “Dad ordered me to go on vacation. ‘Chi-Chi,’ Chi-Chi deepened her voice to mimic her father, ‘you’re looking worn and burnt out. I’m taking Gohan and Goten to my castle for a week while you go on a proper vacation. You will relax, sleep and enjoy yourself.’ I probably was burnt out. Goten was a sweet baby most days but much fussier than Gohan when he got moody but I don’t think I looked worn. Gohan was very supportive and encouraging and so I went.”

From the pictures of happy people eating, hiking, snorkeling, getting massages and playing on the beach, the resort looked fun. “What do you do at the resort?”

Chi-Chi placed her beauty kit into her suitcase and added her cPad. Bulma gifted her a cPad on her birthday and showed her how to purchase books and download them onto the cPad instead of piling her suitcase with paperback books. “On the first day, I sleep. After that, I read a book on the beach. I attended a class.”

“A class?” Goku frowned. That didn’t sound fun. “Like school?” “They have art classes. Exercise classes. I wanted to attend a dance class but since my dance partner was dead, I took a pottery class and…” She pointed to a vase on top of the dresser drawer. “I made that. Two years ago, I skydived over the island.”

“Why skydive when you have Nimbus?”

“Because I wanted to and it was fun. I was nervous for Daniel but it was good for him.” Chi-Chi laughed recalling skydiving with Daniel. “He loved it. He did it three more times.”

“Daniel?” Goku never heard of that name. “Who’s Daniel?”

“A friend I made when I went to the Kiwi Resort on my second trip. He takes vacation around the same time. Sometimes we appear at the same restaurants or class. It’s a small island so it’s not unusual.”

Maybe it wasn’t unusual but it left Goku curious. He noticed Chi-Chi packing her bikinis and coverups in the side pocket of her suitcase. Will Daniel see Chi-Chi in that? “What’s Daniel like?”

“He’s retired. He owns a shipping company but his son and board runs it now. Daniel is still aware of the daily affairs. Since his heart attack—that’s why I was nervous about his skydiving-- he let others handle the big stuff.”

“Oh, so he’s old.”

Chi-Chi added sandals to the suitcase. “No. He’s forty-seven and is in great shape. He had a heart attack when he was thirty-five. He was going through a lot. He lost his wife and was raising two kids alone while managing his company. He could’ve hired nannies but he’s a good Dad. He wanted to be around his children but he burned the candle on both ends and had a heart attack.”

Chi-Chi added a clear bag to her suitcase. It held her lotion and sunscreen. “Most men would use a heart attack to hire a nanny and when well enough, go back to work. Not Daniel.” She smiled like a proud woman. It rubbed Goku wrong. Chi-Chi usually smiled like that for him or their sons. “Daniel loved his company but he loves his children more. Daniel let his managers run the company while he cared for his children. Jonathan, Daniel’s son, interned at Daniel’s company while attending college. He moved into a full-time position and is on the board of directors. Daniel says in ten years Jonathan should be running the company.”

For someone who was a casual friend, Chi-Chi knew a lot about this guy. Goku wondered if Daniel knew about him. “Does he know about me?”

Chi-Chi stopped packing. She looked at him surprised he would ask that. She shrugged, resumed packing and said, “Yes. I told Daniel about you, Gohan and Goten. He knows the truth about the Cell Game. He’s a good man.” Chi-Chi added her camera to the suitcase. “I can’t wait to talk to him. We only talk once a year. There’s a lot to catch up on.”

“Yeah,” Goku quietly agreed as Chi-Chi finished packing. Why is Chi-Chi so excited to talk to him?  

Chi-Chi didn’t fly to Kiwi Island using Nimbus. Gyumao booked a first-class flight for Chi-Chi and always drove the family to the airport where Chi-Chi said goodbye. Gyumao pampered Chi-Chi before she left by paying for her trip to the salon and buying her a new dress.

Goku always thought Chi-Chi looked pretty. She was naturally pretty not wearing makeup and wearing simple dresses around Mount Paozu, but when Chi-Chi pampered herself, she was beautiful. Chi-Chi left for her vacation wearing a purple and yellow floral dress that was loose to comfortably walk in but accentuated her physical curves. Her freshly washed hair was styled in soft bouncy curls; her face was painted making her pink lips kissable red and her usually pretty eyes alluring and enchanting under the soft hue of her eyeshadow. Her walk was relaxed and confident that along with her makeover caused heads to turn Chi-Chi’s way. Walking with her tall and strong father, her husband and two children, would normally cause men to look away from her but with Chi-Chi advertising her beauty, they took the chance to keep looking not intimidated or threatened by the security who walked with her.

Chi-Chi bid goodbye with a hug to her Dad and sons. Chi-Chi thought she and Goku will part with a hug and her sneaking a kiss on his cheek but when Chi-Chi saw Goku’s eyes; the lust and primal hunger, she knew this wouldn’t be a chaste goodbye.

Goku’s hand brushed the soft skin on the back of her neck as he guided her face to his and pressed against her so he could taste Chi-Chi’s lips once then twice before she opened her mouth and allowed his tongue to dance in her mouth. Chi-Chi thought to reject his kiss. She loved it but they shouldn’t be kissing like this in front of her Dad; their sons and hundreds of strangers! But when Goku’s lips touched hers, she could never say no. Chi-Chi returned the kiss, moving with Goku’s mouth gently before matching Goku’s need and meshing her lips against his while their tongues thrust in each other’s mouths and his lower body brushed against her coating her inner walls.

Delicious Chi-Chi moaned against him. He always said that about her when his mouth dipped south or stayed where it is now but Chi-Chi always found him delicious.  

Behind her, Chi-Chi heard her father cough followed by a soft, “Chi-Chi.”

Chi-Chi’s eyes snapped open. From the corner of one eye, she saw her father and Gohan blushing while Goten’s eyes were shielded by Gohan’s hands. What were they doing?! Goku thought the same thing. She felt him gently pull his face away but he kept his body close to hers so she knew what she did to him.

“Bad, Goku,” Chi-Chi whispered as her breath fanned his face.

“Not bad,” he smirked at her. “Just showing what’s waiting for ya when ya come back.” He gave her another kiss, tender and not ravenous before pulling away.  

While Chi-Chi stayed at the airport, Goku, Gohan and Goten went to Gyumao’s castle for lunch. While the servants cooked, Goten and Gohan played in the pool while Goku and Gyumao sat on the patio eating appetizers and drinking lemonade. Chi-Chi’s trip was on his mind. Goku wasn’t worried. Chi-Chi loved him and Chi-Chi spoke of Daniel as a friend but that didn’t squelch Goku’s curiosity. He wanted to know more about Daniel and wondered if Chi-Chi talked about him.

“Do you know about Daniel?”

Gyumao poured himself another glass of lemonade. “Yes. I met him.”

“You did?” Goku thought Chi-Chi talked of Daniel. He didn’t think she introduced him to the family. “Chi-Chi didn’t tell me Daniel met Gohan and Goten.”

“He hasn’t. I met him. Chi-Chi spoke of him when she returned from one of her trips. I looked into him and visited his shipping company.”

Goku sipped his glass of lemonade. “Why did you do that?”

“I thought he would be a good husband for Chi-Chi.”

Goku nearly choked on his drink. “Why? I’m Chi-Chi’s husband.”

“Goku, you were dead. It devasted Chi-Chi. I wanted her happy. I wanted her and my grandsons taken care of. I can’t live forever and you weren’t here. Daniel’s a fine man but Chi-Chi didn’t want him.” A sigh blew from Gyumao’s lips as he got on his feet and walked to an approaching servant. Much was said in that sigh. “She wanted you.”

Gyumao went to the pool to tell Gohan and Goten lunch was ready. The boys got out and dried off. Goku followed everyone into the castle. It was rare but Goku was hungry and didn’t feel like eating.  

Kiwi Island was a dream. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and no forecast for rain. This week, the weather will be perfectly warm to go to the beach, swim and get a nice tan. On her first day, Chi-Chi spent most of it in her hotel room, sleeping and being pampered with room service. Her first day was for recovering from the long flight and soaking in what she will be without her family. She thought of Goten and the mischief he was getting into. She thought of Gohan and the stress he must be feeling managing the house with Goku and Goten.

He will need a break when I return. Ah, her eldest was like her in many ways.

Then there was Goku. Chi-Chi was surprised Goku didn’t invite himself on vacation with her. She wanted him, too. It would make this vacation like the weekend getaways she and Goku took when Gohan was a child.

Chi-Chi thought he would do it. She thought he would announce at the airport “I’m coming, too!” and whisk them away on Nimbus. Instead, he let her go with a passionate kiss goodbye he only gave when they were alone.

Chi-Chi wondered what brought that on. Did the looks she received at the airport do that? She didn’t care for them and thought Goku knew that. She only cared for his eyes on her that said she was his; his smile that could make her happy on her saddest days and his love that made her feel as if she’s the most important person in the world.

Maybe Goku thought I needed a trip alone.

Maybe that’s why he gave her that passionate parting to say, ‘Enjoy yourself but remember me.’

With a kiss like that, how could she forget her lovable Son Goku?

On day two, Chi-Chi spent her day at the beach reading and people-watching. She didn’t think of her sons as she did the day before but she did think of Goku and the time they were on the beach together. It wasn’t crowded with people like this one. On that beach, it was only her and Goku. He pulled her into the water with him; they would swim with animals, splash water on each other and kiss in the water. Sometimes the kissing led to them kissing on the beach where their swimsuits became unneeded.

Today she was very active scuba diving, snorkeling and collecting seashells to share with Goten (he loved those).

Chi-Chi returned to her hotel for a shower. She changed into a sea blue halter dress and gold laced-up sandals that accentuated her strong and pretty legs. She left her hotel to walk two blocks to her favorite restaurant on the island. Heads turned during her walk but Chi-Chi never looked back. There was only one she wanted looking at her and he wasn’t here.

As she waited at the bar for her table, Chi-Chi sipped her mango margarita. She watched couples walking by; watched them eat dinner and thought of Goku. As a widow, the first two years were hard for her to see happy couples. In the last five, Chi-Chi accepted her status as a widow. She smiled at the couples; wishing them well; wishing them long lives; wishing them things she didn’t get with her Goku. Now, no longer a widow, Chi-Chi felt lonely. She had her husband again but he wasn’t with her. She wanted him here. She wanted to sit across from him and laugh as he messily ate dinner. She wanted to hold his hand as they walked on the beach. She wanted him to hold her as they watched the nightly fireworks. She wanted her Son Goku.

“It took me three days to find you. I’m getting rusty.”

“Daniel?” Chi-Chi turned in her chair to see a dashing man with salt and pepper hair. He looked sharp and handsome as always in his charcoal suit. Chi-Chi accepted a hug and his kiss on her cheek. “It’s good to see you.”

“Chi-Chi,” Daniel marveled at Chi-Chi’s beauty in her dress. “You look beautiful. Happier, too.”

“I have a wonderful reason to be happy.”

“I wanna hear all about it. Are they still getting your table ready?”

“Yes.” 

He grabbed Chi-Chi’s hand and pulled her from her seat. “My table is ready. We can eat together.”

Chi-Chi allowed herself to be pulled to Daniel’s table unaware of Goku watching her from the restaurant window.

Two Hours Ago

“Not another chart, Big Brother!” Goten kicked his feet whining. As soon as Goku, Goten and    Gohan left Gyumao’s house, Gohan became the boss of the family. The night before Chi-Chi’s trip Gohan created a color-coded chart with assignments for everyone so the house stays in tip-top condition and not be a disaster when Chi-Chi returns.

The first day there was disorder. Goku and Goten ate all the food Gohan meal prep for dinner and breakfast. Goten protested his assignment of folding the clothes and dusting. Goku thought he should cook the food if that meant he didn’t have to clean up later. He hated cleaning.

Gohan changed the chart and assignments again. Goten protested cleaning and argued they could spend the week with Gyumao. He offered again the Son men to stay with him but Gohan declined insisting they can take care of the house without Chi-Chi.

“Daddy! Make Big Brother stop with the charts!”

“The color charts are helpful, Goten, and if Mommy can do this every day, we can do it for a week until she comes back.” Goten pouted but he couldn’t argue when Goku put his foot down. His word was law. “Let’s see what yours say, Goten. ‘Clean room.’ You can do that until dinner.”

Goten’s shoulders sank as he left to do his task. “Thanks, Dad.” Gohan knew his father wasn’t enthused with these chores but was on his side against Goten. “I wanna show Mom she doesn’t have to worry about us. Can you imagine how disappointed Mom will be if we can’t take care of the house while she’s gone?”

“We can do it, Gohan.” It wasn’t a problem to maintain the house in Chi-Chi’s absence. “No one wants to.” Especially him. Goku wanted to be with Chi-Chi and he wanted to make sure Daniel wasn’t with Chi-Chi or spending time with her while she wore her bikini swimsuit. Goku trusted Chi-Chi. He knew he didn’t have to worry but that didn’t mean he wanted some guy around his wife.

“You miss Mom,” Gohan observed. “Don’t you?”

Even as a child, Gohan was very observant. It wasn’t shocking Gohan, on the verge of adulthood, was very tuned into him now and knew who was on his mind.

“Kinda.”

“You didn’t make it a secret the way you kissed Mom at the airport. People were watching, Dad. You can’t kiss Mom like that. I understand why.” That didn’t mean Gohan liked to see it. “You love Mom and you missed her a lot over the seven years.”

“Yeah…. I do.”

“Mom missed you, too. Dad.” Being in tune with his parents, Gohan knew what they needed right now. “Go spend the rest of the week with Mom. Goten and I will stay with Grandpa.” He knew that would thrill Goten. Gohan liked the idea of spending time at the castle, too. “We both can get what we want.”

Goku appreciated Gohan’s kindness. “Thanks, Gohan.”

Goku didn’t want to scare Chi-Chi as he often did when he appeared to her by teleportation. He went to her the old-fashioned way; flying tracking Chi-Chi’s Ki. He expected Chi-Chi to be surprised but welcoming. He didn’t expect to be the surprised one watching Chi-Chi holding hands with another man. Chi-Chi pulled her hand away when they reached a table but the man kept close to her.

Daniel Goku snarled the name in his mind when he moved his chair next to Chi-Chii’s. Why is he so close to Chi-Chi?

“Pictures!” Daniel pulled out his cell phone. “Ah!” his eyes danced when Chi-Chi pulled out her cell phone. “You don’t have the album. Has Son Chi-Chi finally wakened up to the modern world?”

“My financial situation changed.” She didn’t want to linger in case Daniel asked so she said, “You first.”

Daniel scrolled his phone for a video before showing Chi-Chi a baby. “Meet Michael, my grandson.”

“Awww.” Chi-Chi awed at the video of a sleeping baby. “Daniel, you’re a grandpa. He’s so cute. Is he Jonathan’s?”

“No. Gena gave me my first grandchild.”

“Really?” Gena was Daniel’s youngest child and only daughter. “When we talked last year, you told me she got married a few months ago.”

“I thought she would wait like Jonathan and his wife but Gena is like you and me. We get married and we must start popping out babies. I don’t mind.” Daniel swiped to another picture of his grandson. “He’s a cutie. I babysit sometimes. Every time I’m with him, women surround me. I’ve gotten a few numbers.”

Chi-Chi showed a picture of Gohan and Goten on her phone. “You told me last year you were thinking of dating again. Have you taken the plunge?”

“Look at them,” Daniel smiled at Gohan and Goten. “Goten’s a little bigger but Gohan is turning into a tree. He looks sharp, too. The girls must be fighting over him.”

“They are,” Chi-Chi knew of a few girls who wanted to date her son. “But there’s one girl who has his interest.”

The waiter came with Daniel and Chi-Chi’s dinner. He moved from his seat next to Chi-Chi to sit across from her. “Soon you’ll be a mother-in-law and dealing with grandbabies.”

“I hope so.” Chi-Chi loved the idea of being a grandmother but with Gohan still in high school, she didn’t want to be one anytime soon.

“As for dating,” Daniel cut his meat. “I dabbled in a few. Jonathan and Gena have been very supportive and understanding. They want me to date. They love their mother and know how much I love Isabelle but they don’t want me alone.”

“That’s very understanding.”

“They’re good kids.” Daniel chewed his food. He stared at Chi-Chi while wrestling with his thoughts. “They want to meet you and your sons.”

“They do?” Chi-Chi looked up from her soup.

Daniel smiled sheepishly. “I don’t think you know this but your father met me three years ago. We talked. Good man. He loves you and he loves his grandchildren. He hinted if I were ever ready to date again, you are a great prize.”

The spoon nearly slipped from Chi-Chi’s fingers. “He didn’t.”

“I thought he was crazy. What kind of Dad offers his daughter like that? This isn’t a hundred years ago but he explained and I understood.”

“Explain it to me.” Chi-Chi needed to know before she plotted her father’s funeral. She knew he wanted her to marry again but she didn’t think he’d go this far.

“He wanted to make sure you and your boys are cared for. You are young and became a widow at a young age. To be left pregnant like that….” Daniel shook his head. “Your Dad isn’t wrong about you being a catch. You’re very beautiful, a good Mom and a friend to me. We see each other once a year but some days, you are on my mind. I wasn’t looking to date or marry after Isabelle but year after year, the pain of losing Isabelle eased and we kept meeting. I haven’t felt as comfortable with anyone since Isabelle. I wasn’t sure if I could do it but going on dates now and thinking of you, I see I can.”

“Oh, Daniel.” Daniel was a kind and good man. Because of her father, something was put in Daniel’s mind that can’t happen. She hated she will have to hurt him. “I told you I am happier again.” Chi-Chi pulled out her phone. “You must see why.” She turned the phone to show Daniel a selfie of herself with Goku. In the picture, Goku and Chi-Chi smiled at the camera. Chi-Chi swiped right to show another photo. Her eyes were closed and she laughed as Goku kissed her cheek. In the next photo, she returned the favor kissing Goku’s cheek.

Goku’s face wasn’t alien to Daniel. He knew what Chi-Chi’s late husband looked like. “You uploaded an old photo of Goku’s picture on your phone?”

“No.” Chi-Chi swiped to the next photo. Goten sat on Goku’s shoulder while his arms were around Chi-Chi and Gohan. “We took a picture last week. He’s come back to life.”

From there, Chi-Chi told Daniel how Goku returned to life. Daniel was one of the few who knew how Goku died. He wasn’t surprised Mr. Satan didn’t kill Cell but the truth on what happened that day was sobering and heartbreaking.

“So, we all did die because of that Majin Boo fellow.” It was so brief with no one having a clear memory of what happened when they were zapped by Majin Boo.” Daniel chalked it up to a weird dream. The rest of what Chi-Chi said was hard to swallow but Daniel believed it. “And he’s back with you.”

“Yes.”

Daniel put his hand over Chi-Chi’s and gave it a light squeeze. “Cherish this second chance, Chi-Chi. Live for those who wish they could be as lucky as you are.”

“I will,” Chi-Chi promised.

Goku didn’t hear the words shared between Chi-Chi and Daniel. He watched them eat dinner, talk and laugh. His energy spiked when he saw Daniel put his hand over Chi-Chi’s. Chi-Chi never let a man get close to her like that. Did Chi-Chi like Daniel? Did she lie to him about her true relationship with Daniel?

Goku teleported into the restaurant. He was going to find out.

Goku’s arrival caused Daniel to jump in his seat and Chi-Chi to almost scream.

“Goku?” Chi-Chi thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. She longed for him so many times she thought she was delirious. She reached out to touch him. He was real. He was here. “Goku!” Chi-Chi jumped from her seat to hug him. “I was hoping you’d come.” So overjoyed with Goku’s arrival, Chi-Chi didn’t feel his anxiety or study the stare he sent Daniel. “Goku, this is Daniel. Daniel, my husband, Goku.”

“Never thought I’d have the pleasure.” Daniel signaled a waiter over. “We have a third guest for dinner. Please bring a menu.”

“Oh, no,” Chi-Chi mildly protested. She knew how much Goku ate. Daniel could afford it but she didn’t want to stick him with a large bill. “It’ll be too expensive.”

“Nothing is too expensive to treat the man who saved the world again.” Daniel smiled at Goku despite the death glare he was receiving. Chi-Chi hadn’t noticed but Daniel picked up the unwelcome aura from Goku. Daniel knew how insanely strong Goku was and if Goku heard what he said to Chi-Chi, Daniel wanted to get Goku on his good side quickly.

Dinner calmed Goku’s anger. Despite what Goku suspected Daniel felt for Chi-Chi, Goku accepted the man was charming and kind. He was a good man. He still didn’t like Gyumao wanted Daniel for Chi-Chi while he was dead, but by the end of dinner, Goku held no ill will towards Daniel.

After paying an enormous bill, Daniel parted with a friendly hug to Chi-Chi. It was a bittersweet parting for Daniel knew this was likely the last time he will see Chi-Chi but he was very happy for her and the second chance she was given.

“So,” Chi-Chi wrapped her arm around Goku and walked with him back to her hotel. “What took you? After that kiss you gave me at the airport, I thought you would teleport to my room that night.”

“I wanted you to enjoy your vacation….”

Chi-Chi hoped there was more than that. “But?”

Goku smiled at her. He’s seen many women. Some he thought were pretty; some he thought were feisty but they were never as feisty as Chi-Chi or as pretty as her and when he did look in their eyes, he never saw what he saw in Chi-Chi’s eyes. “I missed ya.”

Chi-Chi leaned on him. “I missed you, too.”

“So, that’s Daniel. Your Pops told me he wanted you to marry him.”

Oh, yeah. Chi-Chi was going to kill her father. “That isn’t why you came, is it? You know I didn’t….”

“I know. I did miss ya but also I wanted to see who your Pops thought could replace me.”

“No one can replace you, Goku.”

Goku knew that but it meant the world to him to hear Chi-Chi say that. “Daniel’s too old for you.”

Chi-Chi laughed. “He’s only eleven years older.”

“He’s weak,” Goku immediately sized up Daniel’s Ki. It would insult his pride if Chi-Chi had picked him. “You need a strong man. Not a rich man.”

“I need a man rich in heart. He should be strong,” Chi-Chi agreed. “And cute. Men are cute if they have big spiky bangs and hair that can turn blonde at a moment’s notice. He also must love when I call him Kakarot.” Light shined from the peripheral of Chi-Chi’s eyes. Goku’s black hair suddenly turned blonde. “Like that. That’s what I like in a man.”

They entered the hotel and the elevator alone. As they rode to the floor of Chi-Chi’s room, she asked, “How long are you here for?” Chi-Chi thought a night. She hoped for two but with the boys alone in the house…..

“Gohan and Goten are staying with your Pops.” Goku followed Chi-Chi off the elevator. His eyes were on the slight swivel of her hips as she went to the door of her hotel room. His nose twitched as he caught the sweet aroma oozing from her. His body reacted immediately. They won’t make it to the bed. “We have the rest of your vacation together.”

Chi-Chi opened the door and pulled Goku inside. “Our vacation.”

[porcelana-r0ta]

Grace

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary: Molly and her coworkers discuss the rumors circulating Heaven after Princess Charlie's visit.

Word Count: 1232

Ao3 Link (Members only)

There were rumors in Heaven, but there were rumors everywhere. Gossip isn't a sin, after all. 

Gossip is actually just a way of keeping informed, Molly learned when she took her Heaven Orientation classes when she first passed on. Everyone takes the classes, but not everyone takes the same classes. Molly, for instance, had a religious upbringing despite what her family’s work life might suggest, so she had been able to test out of most Abrahamic Religions courses. There had still been a few she needed—all religions had a little bit of truth, a lot of lies, and a lot of borrowing or stealing from each other—so there were, of course, misconceptions and clarifications to learn. And one of those clarifications was about gossip.

It's not a sin to gossip. Gossip is just exchanging information. Now, how a person handles gossip—that can be a sin. Being delighted that your neighbor was caught sleeping with his secretary and spreading the news to the whole town without telling his wife? Sin. But passing along the word that your neighbor was a no-good cheating dastardly whose wife needed help? Well, that's just taking care of the community. 

Gossip was labeled a sin by those in power, particularly by men. Gossip gives women information, and information is power. And women simply should not be empowered. 

But now Molly is in Heaven. She is in Heaven and she passed all her Heaven Orientation classes years ago in 1953, and then even went back to university for a business degree. She is well-educated and she knows better than what her past human self would have. 

So when she hears the first bits of gossip, she listens before she dismisses. 

It's a silly thought, after all. Heaven is very open, and God especially. Divine News Network is in close contact with God's Council, and they report everything the people of Heaven should know. If there were so-called Exterminations happening in Hell, then they would have been told long before they ever sent a killing squad down. 

Heaven is perfect. Everyone is happy and everyone is good. They have no need to send angels or saints down to kill, and if they did, then there is no way that they could return: a killer flying in Heaven? No way. 

Those in Heaven have risen above such disgrace. Killing people? Committing genocide on a people that have no where to flee to? That sin was for humans still alive on Earth, or sinners and demons in Hell. Even if  Hell’s population needed culling, surely the citizens there killed each other enough to solve the issue. 

Molly doesn't believe they deserve to be smote for being damned. But she also knows that they belong there, and they likely continue to do things to belong there. 

The rumor becomes a scary story to tell new saints. Give them the shivers before giving them a Heavenly Directory pamphlet, the standard after-living accommodations, and shoving them into Posthumous Guidance 101. 

But then Princess Charlie of Hell comes up to Heaven, and when she goes back down to Hell, the rumors kick up again. 

Molly doesn't look up from her sketchpad as her coworkers quietly murmur about the scandal, dissecting the morals and hypotheticals of it all. 

“There's no way,” Sarah-Lynn says, embroidering flowers onto the skirt of a pink dress. “There's no reason for it.”

“There's a reason for everything,” carefully counters Abel, the oldest among them. He's also sketching. “Fear. Desire. Bloodlust.”

“Those are human reasons. We have risen above that.” 

“Hmm.” Abel doesn't comment. Molly doesn't think he needs to. She starts to focus on giving her sketched model facial features and good hair instead of trendy new clothes.

“They say the Seraphim Emily has verified the killings,” comments Ashley—their youngest, and still attending Heaven Orientation—quietly from her place at the sewing machine. “They're called Exterminations. Like they're pests in a flat.” 

“It's just not true, Ashley,” Sarah-Lynn scoffs. “We have everything we could ever need here. Why would we endanger that to kill sinners an entire dimension away?”

Abel shrugs. Ashley’s head lowers. 

Molly bites her lip, then says as casually as she can, “There's a lot more sinners than there are saints.” 

It's silent, the only sounds being the sewing machine and the pencils to the sketchpads. 

“Oh, honestly, Molly. You too?”

“We still feel fear. We wouldn't be having this conversation if we couldn't.”

And that is the crux of the situation, isn't it? Fear is imperfect; Heaven is not. For both to coexist is paradoxical. 

“What are you suggesting?”

“Just a hypothetical.” Molly smiles. She starts to detail the eyes of her model.

“Well,” Sarah-Lynn huffs. “I don't have any family or friends in Hell. So at least there's that if nothing else.”

It's a crude suggestion, but most people don't. It is hard to make it to Heaven when a person is surrounded by evil and temptation. Still, it causes Molly to pause, and from the way the sewing machine goes quiet and Abel's shoulders go tense, she's not the only one.

“I don't have family or friends in Hell, either,” says Abel, his brow furrowed. He’s a little green. 

“....Same here,” Ashley says. 

Molly stares hard at her drawing, wondering if the floppy hair and freckles beneath the model's eyes actually look familiar, or if she's just scaring herself. Is a real person? Does she know him? Does he know her? Miss her? Love her? Should she miss him? Love him? Worry for him?

No, she decides. She doesn't know him.

“I haven't mourned anyone,” she answers their silent stares.

She spends the rest of that shift trying to think of one saint—just one— who has admitted to mourning a sinner that they knew personally. Then she spends the rest of the evening trying. Then the night. 

Then, at 2 AM, after lots of tossing and turning, she gets up from bed. She walks to her work bag and pulls out her sketchpad, turning to the page with the model with floppy hair. 

She stares at his eyes and his grin. Do I remember? Do I feel sad? I know you, don't I? 

She should at least name him. Even if she doesn't know him, there must be someone down there who needs someone up here to care. 

She digs out a pink pen and scribbles the first name that comes to mind underneath the model's feet. Then she shuts the pad and puts it back in her bag. 

Right. Bed time. 

As she walks into her room, her eyes land on the rosary on her dresser. She feels cold with conviction. She grabs the rosary, fingers closing over the cross, and then she presses it between her hands. 

Molly closes her eyes and she doesn't go through the proper steps, but she does pray for someone she doesn't know is real. 

When she opens her eyes, she doesn't even remember what she was praying for. 

xxXxx

A few days later, Molly opens her sketchpad to review her designs from the last week. She stops at a model with floppy hair. 

“Why'd you name that one Anthony?” Abel asks from beside her.

She looks at the model's mischievous grin, “I don't know.”

Molly runs her fingertips over Anthony's hair, and if she wasn't in Heaven, she would think she feels sad.

[serioussideblog]

You need to look for information about animals from multiple sources, make sure to put your own biases aside, ask questions, and check the sources you find to make sure that they make sense.

My first experience with PETA was reading one of their pamphlets as a kid (sometime between the ages of 7 and 10). And while some of the things that they said in the pamphlet made sense, other things didn’t. For example, the pamphlet talked about cruelty in puppy mills, which I already knew about. But it also talked about wool farms, and my mom had already told me about how they get the wool and the potential consequences of not shearing a sheep, and what the pamphlet described was not at all how any of it works! So I knew that everything should be, at the very least, taken with a grain of salt. Of course, this was when I was very little and I didn’t know the true depth of crap that PETA does, but it was a good exercise in critical thinking skills for Little Me.

Part of respecting animals is understanding that they are different from us and from each other. You should know better than to try to care for a hamster the same way you care for a fish (and if you don’t know, now you know.) So it’s important to apply the rules for one animal to that animal, and if you don’t know what the rules are, look it up online or in a book (or both!) Don’t try to guess the rules for how an animal works based on a completely different animal, especially if you’re in charge of caring for animals, or if you’re talking to someone who is. Your dog is not an elephant. Nor is your dog a wolf. Yes, dogs are descended from wolves, and have some things in common with wolves, but dogs and wolves are different, often very different. Rats are not just big mice. Opposums are not just big rats. (Actually, an opposum is a marsupial, whereas rats and mice are rodents.) Basically, different animals are different.

You are not a monkey. Yes, we are related to monkeys, and there are many similarities between humans and monkeys, but there are also differences, often important ones. What you want and what a monkey wants may sometimes be the same, but it’s often very different. If a monkey tried to do some of the things we do, they would get hurt. If we tried to do some of the things monkeys can do, we would get hurt. That’s because humans are built differently from monkeys. And while some of the things humans do to monkeys truly are cruel, it’s important to know that some monkeys need to be in zoos. As long as the zoo is a good zoo, the monkeys there should be fine. Bad zoos should be shut down, and the animals should be rescued from there, and perhaps placed in a good zoo. Do your research on which zoos are good and which are bad. But remember to check your sources and think critically if you see something that doesn’t make sense.

Finally, the rules for how fictional animals work and how real animals work are often different. Now, this may seem obvious to some people, but even so, there is a lot to consider. Your favorite animal characters may have some things in common with their real-life counterparts, but there are bound to be important differences. For example, I like Sonic the Hedgehog. I know that Sonic is bigger than a real hedgehog, and a real hedgehog can’t deal with the kind of situations Sonic tends to find himself in. Also, real hedgehogs can’t eat chili dogs, are not blue, and don’t run at the speed of sound. But they do ball themselves up to protect themselves and their quills are a good self-defense system. So there is that. Actually, learning the similarities and differences between animal characters and their real-life counterparts can enhance your experience and enjoyment of both, in addition to the (less fun but more important) benefit to your knowledge of how animals actually work in the real world and why you shouldn’t try to apply the rules of fiction to reality. The rules can be very different.

Learn about animals. Guessing how animals work is not good enough. Learn how they work. Animals are very cool, and learning about animals can help you help them. Animals of many species are struggling right now, and it’s important to know what we should be doing to help them. Part of that is learning not only about similarities between humans and animals, but the differences, too. Another part of that is learning the differences between different types of animals. And yet another part is critical thinking about sources related to animals, and about our own understanding of animals. There’s a lot to learn, but if you don’t know something, don’t try to fill in the blanks with guesses. If your guesses are incorrect, the effects can be devastating.

honestly people are way more ignorant about the welfare of the animals than they think they are

animal rights activists are even worse regarding that, because instead of actually learning about what an animal needs and how it behaves they rely solely on how they *think* animals feel and need

and it's the reason why the public views feeding and interacting with wild animals as "being good and kindhearted :) " and keeping animals in zoos as "poor animals suffering in cramped cages >:( "

and it kills animals

[gravity-barbie]

Coming out as LGBT+ to the Hargreeves HCs

(GN Reader) Happy pride month

TW: Brief mentions of bigotry

Sparrow version

Masterlist

Luther Hargreeves

-Luther’s lack of world experience means his knowledge on the queer community is limited but thanks to Klaus and Viktor it isn’t non-existent

-He’s familiar enough with the concept to not be taken aback when you come out, though he’s also uncertain on what the appropriate response is and so he’s just a bit awkward

-But he’s incredibly supportive and eager to learn anything you’ll tell him about your orientation/identity, he’s a step away from taking notes

-He is genuinely very happy for you that you’re taking this step forward and makes it clear you can lean on him for support if you need it

-The more he thinks about it the more touched he is that you chose him to confide in

Diego Hargreeves

-Diego is a little bit surprised but he bounces back quick

-He’s very causal about it and willing to drop the subject if that’s what you want, but if you have more opening up to do he’ll listen

-Though it’s not his specialty he really tries to be respectful about this, he thinks about it more than you’d expect and talks about the matter with thoughtful wording

-He’s instantly concerned about bigots, he doesn’t say anything but he becomes more vigilant around you at the prospect

-And if the day ever comes that his fear comes true you can bet that he’ll tear the perpetrator to pieces

Allison Hargreeves

-Allison’s a very compassionate person so it goes over very smoothly, you’d think she’d just read a pamphlet on how to respond to someone coming out

-Plus, while it’s not exactly the same thing she has had her own experiences of being discriminated against so she can put herself in your shoes and has a pretty good idea of what you might need to hear

-She realises it must be scary so she rushes to reassure you that it’s totally okay and she’s glad you’re telling her

-Honestly she is very honoured that you trust her enough to tell her

-She let’s you know that she’ll be there for you if other people aren’t as accepting

Klaus Hargreeves

-Klaus is happy to have another queer person in his life and extends you a warm welcome into the community

-He can empathise with the position your in and tries to tone down his eccentricity a bit to relax you and offer you a more intimate atmosphere

-He does undercut some of the tension you feel with jokes but also gives you the room you say your piece

-If you are a bit new to the self-discovery process or just the LGBTQIA+ community he has a lot of experience with more branches of it than you may expect and has some wisdom he can offer, it’s worded wackily but it’s wisdom nonetheless

-He offers to keep you company more often over the following month, intending to keep your spirits high during this potentially difficult time

Five Hargreeves

-Well to be blunt he doesn’t care… However with his growing empathy he thinks better of being so flippant and risking hurting you when it was clearly something you felt the need to tell him

-So he let’s you go on for as long as you need and does listen, all the while calculating the best response

-He’s stoic but not insincere as he congratulates you for opening up, telling you that it’s important you live your truth and that he’s happy for you

-Despite how generally out of touch and insensitive he is he’s surprisingly unprejudiced, if a little indifferent

-Overall he gets used to the new information quickly and rarely acknowledges it aside from using more specifically inclusive language for your sake

Ben Hargreeves

-Ben wasn’t gonna say anything but he’s perceptive and kind of had a hunch about this for a while

-Not that he alludes to that, he gives you your moment and doesn’t want to undercut the significance of it

-It goes without saying that he’s completely accepting, actually he’s a step further and quite proud of you

-There is no one better to come out to, he’s an extremely empathetic person with a way with words and you’ll definitely feel better after this conversation than you did before

-In fact, talk to him any time your struggling and he’ll probably make you feel better

Viktor Hargreeves

-Viktor is not only thoughtful and sensitive but he also has gone through the exact same thing so you’re with good company

-He’s happy that you two have another thing in common, especially a thing a thing that can be so isolating

-On that note he makes sure to check in more frequently to keep you from feeling alone and be there for you if you need it

-You two end up bonding even more through comparing your experiences, keeping each other updated and talking through things your struggling with

-When things do get difficult you both have a way of reminding the other of all the upsides to being queer like finding a community, empowerment, ect

[cinnamonest]

Ok.

Listen.

Twisted Wonderland Male majority au

ANON YOUR BRAIN??? Incredible. I want to eventually make a more long and detailed post for this but I have some ideas to get out for now!

//the usual for this AU (other posts here): strong references to physiology/biology, basically enslavement/treatment of girls as property, misogynistic themes

---

PLEASE consider: what if the housewarden role's primary perk is that you're granted a pet girl?

The idea was originally introduced by school administration as a way to encourage more competitiveness for the housewarden role, basically adding a bonus incentive, and even serving as an attractant to the school itself to lure in prospective incoming students. Additionally, girls are incapable of utilizing magic, so there's no issue with them accidentally learning too much secondhandedly and trying to utilize it or anything like that. The issue being, said administrators had absolutely no forethought or planning about it, didn't think a lot of aspects of it through, and thus it goes over disastrously for a while.

Well, actually, you could say it works a lot better than anticipated... too much, even. Suddenly guys who previously couldn't have cared less about pursuing such a thing are showing intense, aggressive levels of interest. Actually, it sort of backfires because a bunch of them don't care about or value leadership or responsibility or any of that, they just want some pussy. They end up having to add some extra requirements to filter out such individuals.

This also creates a system in which even those who aren't confident enough to compete for housewarden spots, still go out of their way to become buddy-buddy with the housewardens because like bro that's a chance at free pussy?? The average guy starts to think that maybe just maybe if he's really nice and does a lot of favors for the guy, then it would be okay to ask for just ONE night with the girl? Or doesn't even have to be the whole night, maybe just like an hour or two?? Just enough time to bust a nut or two and maybe get some semblance of affection... please.

A lot of guys are fairly shameless about their motives, but there are still guys that go for the position for normal reasons, of course... or at least say they do. Riddle and Azul would fall into this category, the "n-no, this wasn't part of my reason for becoming housewarden at all you've got it all wrong--" kind of guy. No, it didn't even cross his mind, it's just a negligible side bonus is all. He's a very responsibility-oriented person! The reward doesn't even matter, really.

Likewise, each individual treats their respective girl very differently in terms of how much exposure and access to various things they get. There were no real rules given when these rewards were allotted, it was just sort of a "here you go, have fun" sort of thing. Each warden receives their own assigned girl, personalized (to an extent -- since this is the first year the program was implemented, they let them give a bit of input into some preferences) and dropped off on their first official day.

Since most young guys have quite literally never interacted with a girl, the faculty even put together a nice little how-to care manual, complete with basic instructions on meeting needs and recommended routines, as well as an extensive FAQ/troubleshooting section for frequently-occurring problems. But since that's also a bit of a heavy read that some boys may not want to put that much effort into, there's also a little quickstart pamphlet with the absolute most essentially, basic information, even more simplified, and this time including visuals to help. Even so, the boys all tend to do things their own way, and handle their newfound gift a little differently.

-

Vil makes a rather big deal out of presentation. You're more or less kind of a dress-up doll to him. He like to ensure you match to some extent, can't have the two of you looking mismatched or not coordinated in your respective aesthetics. So you are certainly held to expectations, although he helps if he feels something is off. But he doesn't let anyone else take care of presentation for you, since that would mean having to let someone else too close for comfort.

So instead, prepare to spend gratuitous amounts of time in each morning ensuring that you look absolutely and entirely perfect, lacking in so much as a single flaw, which he personally ensures. It's important, he says if asked, providing no other reasoning other than that. Besides, aren't you supposed to do what you're told and not really need explanations? You do get free housing and food and an easy life, so surely this isn't asking too much of you.

He shows off to some extent, since he is so big on keeping you on visual display, but he doesn't brag as much verbally as some others. He just lets your presence do the talking, so to speak. Just having you sort of perched beside him works wonders in terms of social standing. Not that he doesn't value you otherwise -- you're warm and soft and it all feels very... foreign. He sort of pretends to not be flustered, though, tries to maintain a confident demeanor. Being all openly fascinated and bewildered by a lot of things would be kind of pathetic, he thinks.

However, he's one of those boys who finds it a bit of a shock to learn you have, you know, free will and all that. He was always just led to believe you were sort of... robot-like. Ah, well, no big deal, as long as your free will doesn't cause you to do anything he would ever find unfavorable! But he's sure that won't be a problem. It's just... not something he can really wrap his head around.

If you do turn out to be capable of being in bad moods or disagreeable, he ends up going to administration about it, asking if you have some sort of medical problem causing you to behave this way... no? That's just how you can be sometimes? Goodness, what an... unpleasant footnote in the whole matter. Well, it can apparently be dealt with by doing things that please you, such as giving gifts, and it's easy for him to get you a ton of material goods, so, no matter.

Oh, he also uses you to boost his social media status. Of course, here in this world a picture of a girl gets even more attention than ever. There are some of what you might call "egirls", but given that girls don't have their own autonomy and all that, said egirls are only allowed to run accounts under permission to do so, and since not a lot of guys are okay with that, they're somewhat sparse.

Thus, you find yourself becoming something of a well-known internet figure, you gain enough popularity within weeks that he makes a separate account just for showing you off. It's amazing how many desperate guys out there just enjoy seeing pictures of you going about your day, eating your food, posing in clothes... all very carefully edited by him, of course, but nonetheless.

-

Kalim is very outwardly eager, and has no shame or nervousness regarding the matter. He finds it very necessary to throw a party in celebration of getting you. And another for the one-week anniversary. And another for the two-week anniversary. And... well, eventually Jamil has to break it to him that they can't throw a party for every tiny little milestone. Besides, it's not like an anniversary is an accomplishment in this case, you're literally stuck with him whether you like it or not... although he leaves that part out for the sake of not hurting Kalim's feelings.

He's very showoffish with you in general too, insists on bringing you into class lectures even though doing so was very clearly forbidden in the rules dictation given to them that he was too excited and eager to pay any attention to. While very saddened about not being allowed to have you there for everyone in the school to see all class long (it's a distraction, they remind him), at least he can have you waiting back at home!

Kalim is somewhere in this middle ground where he's certainly very nice and sweet to you and all, he's certainly not mean or cold, and his intentions are good... but at the same time, it's hard to say he's particularly good because he treats and views you sort of like a toy, an accessory. He's just got a mild immature streak, doing what he feels like without really considering consequences or effects his actions may have on others.

Consequently, he doesn't realize the degree to which he tires you out with his boundless energy and need to constantly be doing something. Come do this, come do that, he's constantly dragging you around with no regard to how you feel about the matter, and you've been trained to not raise objections, so you simply endure it.

This also, however, makes him a bit of a target. He's so eager to put you on display that he doesn't think about the fact that maybe others don't take so well to his excitement, or that maybe he might not be inciting solely positive sentiments from others. In his mind, he's just sharing his optimism and making others happy by letting them see you, but in reality, to a lot of others, it feels like he's rubbing it in their face of what he has that they don't. Eventually, either you or Jamil has to start warning him about the matter.

Speaking of, he's still perfectly generous in that regard. He doesn't mind, if it's someone he trusts like Jamil is... who, out of propriety, initially refuses, says he couldn't participate in such a thing... but after a while, the temptation of the offer just becomes a bit too much to really resist, so he accepts it.

-

Azul is rather pleased when it comes to having a girl... and capitalizes on it. No point in not utilizing all of your potential. Having your mere presence, it turns out, significantly increases the agreeableness of whoever he's doing business with. People tend to be in better spirits with your presence, and on top of that, you distract people enough that he can slip in some unsavory clauses to various agreements that go in one ear and out the other because the other party is too absorbed in looking at you. It's very helpful, really.

That being said, you still have to stay close to his side. He's a bit strict on that, doesn't let you go wandering even if its within his eyesight, whereas some other wardens might at least let you walk around provided you're within their sight. Azul, on the other hand, insists you stay close enough to touch at all times, if not just sitting next to him or on his lap throughout the majority of the day.

He still keeps a notably low profile about you otherwise, though. Despite having an arrogant side, outside of making deals, he's not nearly as showoffish as someone like Kalim or Leona. He knows balance is important -- he knows that being too shameless and prideful to the world can potentially put the two of you in an unsavory position in which someone spiteful or desperate may try to target him or yourself for something malicious. He keeps a middle ground, not hiding you away, but not being too bold, instead quietly keeping you visible and letting your presence speak for itself.

He's thankfully not too strict on how you behave, either. You will certainly still be a bit intimidated at first, with that whole sort of beguiling, uneasy aura he has about him, but any such unease proves unfounded rather quickly. He's actually very attentive to your needs and feelings, goes out of his way to tell you not to be so nervous, smiles and puts a hand on your thigh in an attempt to calm you down and familiarize yourself with his touch... that's what the reading said doing that would do, after all. Okay, yes, although he would not admit to it, he is actually more nervous than he lets on, and yes, he did read that entire manual cover to cover. He just likes to pretend he has natural charm.

Surprisingly, he can be rather lax in terms of what you do otherwise. You might expect him to have a strict policy or routine for you, but in reality he just doesn't want to put you to work in any way when he's not there. It's not worth having you potentially interact with others, he'd have to be crazy to just let you go around talking to people and not expect for some desperate guy to snatch you up and try to hide you away to themselves. So when he's in class, you can do whatever you want from the safety of the room, although if they have open time while he's in class, he may as well just send Floyd or Jade to watch over you.

On that note, like Kalim, Azul can tolerate some sharing. He doesn't mind, as long as it's just the two of them, but absolutely no one else. And he makes sure it stays between them, makes sure they tell no one, to make sure he doesn't get flooded with a bunch of other desperate guys begging at his feet. That would be... unpleasant.

-

Malleus actually handles the whole thing rather quietly. People are so caught up in the commotion when the distributing is going on (especially given how loudly some of the other housewardens handle the ordeal), so one really notices as the one designated for Diasomnia is quietly tapped on the shoulder and pulled away while the gathering crowds focus on the others. Malleus himself doesn't actually come, he merely gets the others to pick you up and bring you back to the residential area.

People tend to kind of forget about your existence, compared to the other girls' (well, except for Idia's as well, to be touched on in a moment). They never see you, never hear of you, so people sort of forget about you. Occasionally, someone may ask about the matter -- hey, did Diasomnia not get one? -- only to be reminded of how it went over -- yeah, but they never let her out. -- and thus it's gradually accepted and forgotten about.

Living with him is, likewise, very quiet. He doesn't expect much of you, he doesn't ask much of you, merely keeps you for your... designated purpose. At first, you worry you're doing something wrong, you panic a bit, but then he starts to actually seem to show concern as to why you seem so stressed. Is there something wrong?

You realize, then, that this is just sort of how he is. He's gentle and not demanding, shows quiet concern for your well-being, but tends to remain rather quiet, simply enjoys spending time in your presence, even if you don't talk much. He does speak to you on matters he deems important, or sometimes just because he thinks of something interesting to ask you about. That is what most conversations are about, little questions about your nature, existence, physiology, and so on.

He does seem to not realize at first that you still need some form of stimulation. In his mind, you're sort of like a doll, as if your mind only thinks thoughts when he speaks to you and "turns off" whenever he himself is not interacting with you in some way. You have to eventually muster up the courage to ask, but he's upset at all by the request, and gladly makes arrangements to give you things to occupy yourself with. Sometimes, the things you ask for involve creativity, like things to write or draw with. Huh, so you like... think. You have initiation capacity in your mind, rather than just responding to stimuli. Well, they say you learn something new every day, so he counts this as useful new information.

Despite his general pleasantness towards you, he's not keen on sharing. Not that those close to him would dare ask, but he makes it very clear by the way he keeps a tight physical grip on you, and rarely has you out of arm's reach. Which is another matter in and of itself -- one of the most potentially inconvenient aspects of being with him is that he keeps you very, very close at all times. Not just in the sense that you have to be in his eyesight, or that he keeps you close by in public, but rather that even when it's just the two of you alone, he doesn't like you wandering any further than a distance from which he could reach out and grab you. In fact, preferably, he likes to keep you physically touching at all times, sitting next to him or directly on his lap, pressed together when you lay down, and so on.

-

Leona is more prideful than you might expect on the matter. Perhaps it draws something in the whole lion nature out, but he does have a compulsion to display you to some extent. At any sort of event or out of class time in general, you can always be found on his lap or knee, always keeping his arm protectively wrapped around you. He becomes more reclusive after getting you though, goes straight back to his own room rather than hanging out on school grounds.

He's not very good at communicating, though. He doesn't speak to you much at first, just sort of awkwardly mumbles about how he'll be expecting you to be good, don't cause trouble, so on and so on. Sure, he knows it's normal and expected to make some rules or standards for you (it's said they behave better and treat you better when they're trying to earn approval or something), but he can't really think of anything... so, uh, just... be good, he says. No real specifics on what that entails, but he'll let you know if you do something bad.

As it turns out, though, you have to kind of try in order to upset him, or at least be particularly bad. As long as you stay close, he doesn't mind. You don't have to maintain this good posture or attentive demeanor, he doesn't mind if you fiddle with whatever is in your hands, you don't have to pay attention, he doesn't mind. And he's not going to be strict on things you say or the like either. He doesn't care if you disagree with him, or if you voice it, just don't get an attitude and get mouthy.

And don't expect him to actually take your concerns or disagreements into account... so he says. In truth, he might actually rethink some decisions if they're not too important, and change his mind in favor of what you want, he just won't tell you that. Basically, the only way you can really upset him with your words is by being bratty in the way you relay them, and/or embarrassing him in front of others with your disagreeableness.

He doesn't bother to read any of the materials they were given. You're just a person like him, yeah? Can't be so different he needs to read about it. He can just treat you like a normal person and it'll all be okay, he assumes. He's a bit fascinated by you, but tries to repress it, doesn't want to embarrass himself by gawking like a kid looking at something unfamiliar. He still ends up asking some questions, though, often trying to make it seem like a mere trivial passing question and not something he's actually very curious about regarding your physiology.

He's fiercely aggressive in the protective sense as well. He makes it very clear to everyone very early on not to piss him off, not to come too close to you. A lot of students have a sort of natural curiosity, they tilt their heads and mumble to each other in awe and interest, like looking at some rare animal behind glass. And that may lead them to, in a moment of absent-mindedness, lead them to reach a hand out to touch you or the like... but they always freeze up, go wide-eyed and retract the moment they catch his glare.

Oh, and he doesn't mind throwing Ruggie scraps occasionally. If he himself is not busy. And as long as he doesn't take too long. He just sighs and tells him to do it quick and return you soon enough, rather than try to gauge how long you should be gone and come looking for you or anything. Come on, have you seen that whole hyena mating process thing? He's not about to take the time to try and wrap his head around all of that. Wait, can your body even like... well, it has to be possible, otherwise he wouldn't be taking these sessions with you, and -- you know what, forget it, he doesn't want to waste time putting that imagery in his head. Ugh.

-

Riddle is, predictably, very strict. He's not opposed to having you visible in public, no, in fact that is the proper way to go about things -- it's part of having a dignified, noble image and all of that, and it would be unseemly to leave you unattended -- but only with certain regulations in place. No one can stand within a certain distance of you, people shouldn't speak directly to you, on and on it goes.

There are, of course, rules for you too. Rules on how to walk and carry yourself, to not speak to others even if spoken to. Keep your eyes on the ground. You have what you wear and eat dictated to you. Breaking any of these will upset him, and a repeated streak of rule breaks results in one of his signature mini-tantrums. He's probably one of the worst to deal with in that regard. Oh, and keep perfect posture too, don't slouch or anything. After all, your behavior reflects on him, you know? So it's important to be the absolute best you can be.

Above all, he does not share. No. Not a chance. Not so much as a grope or a kiss. He gets particularly angry when people try to get too close, and as a result, this has backfired against him severely in that now, guys will intentionally provoke him for their own amusement. He's aware of it, but it just makes him more irritated, and the cycle of stress for the poor thing continues.

At first, he did trust Trey to at least supervise you when he was gone. He didn't want to lock you up in the room, since he read that you need sunlight and fresh air just like a normal person. But then he started thinking about it, and it started to really bother him, and a bunch of possibilities flashed through his mind and well, now he doesn't do that anymore. Too risky. Surely you can get enough sunlight and air by going outside with him in the afternoon.

Oh, as you might imagine, he's read that booklet they gave them several times over, in addition to seeking out other material as well. Now, seeing as he considers himself The Expert™, it's only reasonable to think he knows you better than you know yourself. Additionally, he doesn't see you as very bright to begin with. It's a little bit of a contrast to how he usually treats others -- whereas with most people, he assumes and expects they should know literally everything and be entirely knowledgeable on every topic he considers basic knowledge, for you he assumes you know nothing.

Prepare to have a lot -- a LOT -- of very basic things explained to you, as if you're the stupidest thing alive, including those pertaining to your own physiology. Likewise, any poor moods on your part will be easily rationalized as being the result of hormones. Every behavior will be rationalized with some lengthy explanation that all ultimately boils down to invalidating your emotions in some way or another.

...Not that he's not still sort of fascinated by you... not that there's anything he doesn't know, it's just that seeing something up close versus studying it from books are two different things, you know? It's perfectly reasonable to want to watch your behaviors up close, as if seeing you sleep and eat and stretch and move around is something incredibly captivating. And touch, too. Not... not that that's anything unreasonable either, that's what you were provided for, isn't it? You're soft and warm... yes, this will surely have a positive effect on his own psyche. Very good, keep up the good work and keep, uh, existing... and all that.

-

Life with Idia is more or less exactly how you would predict it to be: reclusive and quiet. He is very protective in an anxious, paranoid sort of way, insists that you stay inside the room at all times. He doesn't like the thought of taking you outside -- people are gonna stare at you, and they probably will glare at him and think about how much they hate him for having you, and he can't handle that, no. It's better if you stay inside all the time... after all, he will be inside all the time too, so it's not like there's any reason to go out anyway.

He's very awkward, too, unsure of how to really speak to or interact with you. Normal people are bad enough, but from what he's heard, isn't speaking to you supposed to be different, and way more difficult? How is he supposed to handle that? Thus, it's very, very quiet, he barely says a word to you, and at first you think maybe he doesn't like you for whatever reason. Raising this concern results in a frantic attempt to convince you otherwise, trying to explain that no, it's not you -- well yes, it is you, but not like that! Not in a bad way, just -- just -- oh, now you just look more distressed. It takes a while to get things sorted out.

Similarly, he is a frequent consultor of the provided manual, often resorting to it at the slightest of inconveniences. You made a facial expression that seems upset or breathed in a way that seemed irritated! There has to be something wrong... and if the information provided doesn't tell him, internet forums surely will, right? Thus, if he exhausts the manual, he can consult the internet community instead, and ends up making regular posts about 'I think my school-assigned female is mad (behavioral indicators listed below) help??' rather than just... ask if you're upset.

Much like with Malleus, people often kind of forget about you, since the other housewardens actually go outside and thus attention is focused on them. Still, every now and then people ask him about you, which only provokes avoidant answers, as he assumes no one could have good intentions... although, really, that is likely a fair assumption, but even if someone was merely wondering how you're doing, he still tries to avoid the question (very ineptly, usually by just completely ignoring it and jumping to some other topic). Sometimes, if he's required to turn his camera on during gatherings, you'll be visible in the background, which he only notices a bit too late and goes to anxiously shove you out of the view of the lens, brushing off anyone who takes the opportunity to ask about you.

He's also just rather fascinated with you in general. He stares quite a bit from the other side of the room, you've decided not to tell him how noticeable it is. Just watching you go about normal tasks is intriguing, curious to see if you do things any differently from how most people do it -- sometimes your motions seem more soft or gentle by comparison, or you have to compensate for whatever you lack by roundabout methods, such as the time he watched you run a jar under hot water to make it easier to open. How ingenuitous.

-

All that aside, this whole system can't sustain itself for very long. It creates too much of a problem. Individual housewardens complain to administration that they're essentially being harassed, there's a lot of aggression, there was even a very coincidental "accident" that kinda looked a bit suspiciously like an actual homicide attempt on one of the housewardens. The administration didn't really have a good idea of what they were doing when they set the whole thing up, nor did they calculate the risks, and unfortunately they now handle the mess they've created with even worse forethought than that which they made the original plans with.

They can't just say "oh, well that didn't work, we're taking the girls back now" no, the students would be so mad they'd throw a fit about it, if not borderline riot. Instead, the solution is to bring in even more girls -- still only just a few more, the school IS on a budget you know -- and sort of designate them for communal use instead. A 30-1 male-female ratio per house should work, right? That sounds reasonable, they can handle that.

Except in does in fact not go over well. More importantly, they vastly overestimate the capacities of teenage boys to establish any sort of order. They just sort of randomly assign a few girls per house, tack a tracking collar onto them, give a quick introductory "this is yours now, treat it well" announcement and leave them sitting in the main halls of each dorm, because surely the boys can work out a fair rotational agreement without breaking out into chaos, right?

Well, no, apparently. It becomes evident within about 12 hours that there needs to be some sort of immediate intervention. Perhaps the phrase "before someone gets hurt" would be applicable to tack onto the end of that sentence, except by that point it's already a bit too late for that. Quite the mess on their hands... hopefully designing some kind of rotational schedule will work. If they can enforce it without devolving into further chaos, at least.

[mangodestroyer]

All I know is that I'm in a better spot now than I was right after the break up. Sometimes, I feel more and more like my normal self. But I guess another part of me gets uncomfortable at times because I had to put in a LOT of work to change my mindset/heal myself. And I feel like my personality has really changed and feels unfamiliar. Like, it's a good change. I'm getting better at setting boundaries and all. And I've improved my social skills greatly too. But being 100% in charge of myself? Standing up for myself? Taking initiative more? I'm really not used to that. Or maybe I've become hypervigilant and just want to relax now and then and feel like I can trust someone.

I think some of the venting is also just a feeling of closure over the new information. Learning about how toxic relationships work, like, doing extensive research on this beyond PSAs, pamphlets, health class, and general knowledge, has been a huge help. It's hard to really understand how these relationships work unless you see them play out. You might not be aware of all the red flags, or fully understand what they entail. Or worse, you ignore them because you think they're the exception. For example: I didn't question my ex's discussion of marriage days after we got together because they seemed so nice and perfect before, and so I couldn't connect the dots with their "kindness and love", this red flag, and abuse. I thought, "Maybe some people just really want to be married?" At the time, I did too (now I'd have to know someone for a very long time and the idea is not as appealing anymore).

I'm still stunned by how much they CHANGED. How RIGHT I was to be suspicious of the marriage thing. And how much I hate myself for not questioning it. Of all the toxic people I've met throughout my life, I've NEVER seen someone go from acting like I'm their world/the best thing ever/saying all the right things to seemingly hating everything about me and saying so many hurtful things/doing things to make me seriously doubt myself. It still makes no sense, tbh. I felt like the "loving" phase was a little off too at the time, but also assumed my ex just had a dorky way of showing love and just happened to come off a little over the top at times. Just didn't know how to be more subtle. Now looking back it's so obviously fake and cringy. It gives me this feeling that she just pretended the whole time? Dated someone she didn't actually like for two years? Well, it wasn't authentic, anyway.

Idk, it's stuff I really wished I'd known sooner. I could have saved myself so much trouble. As I said, it's not like this is the only toxic person I've dealt with. For a while, I'd been a magnet for these types. I've thought about writing some fanfics where toxic relationships, manipulation, and toxic individuals would be a source of conflict. To vent through the story and show what it's like. Show the aftermath.

My girlfriend made me watch Our Flag Means Death so now I’m making her watch Good Omens

tag yourself who is the good omens gf and who is the our flag means death gf

[animehouse-moe]

Madoka Magica Key Animation Note Box Set

Talk about crazy cool. This box set is a collection of 6 volumes that pull from the greatest/biggest moments of the original anime, and split them accordingly. I mean, episode 10 has a whole volume to itself, and these things aren't pamphlets or anything. They're 120+ pages of animation greatness to take in.

I'll just give a little tour of the exterior first, because I was really surprised with the quality of the actual box for the box set itself. Though in hindsight, it'd have to be good, considering the overall heft of the collection since it weighs in at around 7kg. Also, something that can be a real pain is how snug a fit a box set is. You want it to be tight enough that volumes won't slip out, but loose enough that it's not a fight to get them out. Thankfully, this set does a surprisingly good job finding a balance between the two.

Now, the only thing that's hard to really capture with these volumes are the metallic/glossy covers. I'll admit, they do look nice, but at the same time I wouldn't have minded something that was a bit less intense on the eyes (though there is matte designs on the cover itself, beneath the dust jacket). It's worth noting that that black line/mark and whatever else is going on at the bottom corner of the image is not any damage. It's just the tiniest bit of a reflection of my hat.

Anyways, the actual content. It's really incredible, and I love how varied it is. Most of the keyframes adhere to a 1:2 ratio on their respective pages, but Shaft mixes it up all over the place to better convey scenes and moments and layouts.

Here's an example of the typical 1:2 that serves as the default throughout the volumes.

It's really quite interesting because even though these are the defaults, there's quite a few different ways they'll show up. Sometimes you'll get the full sheets scanned in like this (you can tell by the holes at the top denoting animation paper) with all the extra info and lines and the like, and then other times you'll have really cleaned up keyframes, along with all sorts of in between versions that can have different lines or framing or whatever else.

But for just as many of these "regular" keyframe pages, there's just as many different and unique ones, and even storyboards that they throw into the mix. It's really really cool, like this page that follows the above one.

Of course, the appearance of the keyframes is similar to the earlier ones since they come from the same cut, but they change up how they're displayed to give readers a better idea of the overall flow. And, while it's definitely not something most are overly interested in, I think it's incredibly awesome that they include a timing sheet with sequences like this. If you want to learn what a timing chart/sheet is, I highly recommend this YouTube video going over what it is and how it's used in animation.

Anyways, there's just a lot of passion put into the release of this material. In how they organize it, in what they show, all the added detail and information. It's got a world of stuff out there that shows you at least some information from every core aspect.

Some of my favorites are the sequenced keyframes though. Just the feel you get from them, and how they come together is really something else. Plus, seeing the amount of effort that goes into them when so much of it can be out of frame? Such a crazy thing to think about.

And then there's the keyframe vs finished product pages that are just so stunning. Incredible to get a side by side of the art.

And they even go as far as showing some of the corrections made by ADs throughout the production (denoted typically by the yellow paper color). Just really interesting odds and ends that work together to create such a broad look at the production of the series.

Also last one, I just really love how some of the keyframes are used as a fancy version of storyboarding almost, and the way they organized these ones was super cool, as it essentially shows the "full" picture that can't fit in just one frame.

At the end of it, it's another one of those art book collections that just really stuns when you flip through it. With compositing and color and motion, it's laughably easy to forget about the insane amount of detail and effort that goes into each frame of animation. Getting the opportunity to own and experience this collection really helps me remember just how incredible animation and animators are.

And it also makes me really want to get more of the Madoka Magica art books.

[bellafragolina]

I always had a mild interest in learning how to partner / ballroom dance just for funsies, so may I get some headcanons for the twins and an SO taking classes together just for the joy of it?

(Bit of an odd request but the few times I have tried to partner dance with people I always got shoved into the role of the following dance partner because of weird gender role bs, so I would love them being okay with actually switching it up sometimes because I am so over people looking at me like I just lost my marbles when I ask if there is any chance I could actually learn how to lead a dance too... Not request related but Jesus Christ gender roles suck)

Ooh, I took a dancing class in college and loved it. We never did partnered dances, sadly, but I had a lot of fun! I have a video of me doing a hip hop dance that I will release if this post gets 100 notes lolol (/j . . . or am I? 👀)

🍓🍓🍓

Ingo:

Ingo was very interested in the class when you brought it up to him. He was always been a fan of classical music, so learning how to dance to his favorite pieces sounded like a dream. So he eagerly agreed, hovering your shoulder as you register the two of you for the class

Ingo did plenty of research beforehand, showing you the information he gathered about the dances you'd be learning. He liked to be prepared and have an idea of what you'd be doing before the class actually started. He practiced positions and the beginning stepped with you, so by the time you were in class, you already knew most of the introductory moves.

When you asked about leading him around, instead of vice versa, Ingo was a little surprised. He wanted to lead you around, but he enthusiastically agrees to you leading. He was curious, and found it quiet enjoyable to be able to follow your moves instead of worrying himself over leading

When you lead, he'd lean into you, resting his head against you, as the music flowed through him. His heart fluttered, and he'd smile, relaxed and very happy that you suggested this. Expect a sappy Ingo once you both return home for the day <3

Emmet:

Emmet was excited to see you had a pamphlet for a dance class. It sounded like a fun thing to do, a way for you both to bond. Also it meant he got to be pressed closed against you while showing off his "awesome" dancing skills, so that was a bonus

The day of the class came, and you both clumsily followed the instructions to learn the basic move set. Emmet pouted when you asked to lead, but conceded happily, as it gave him less to focus on, and he could instead pepper you in kisses as you led. It was very distracting, and the teacher was already getting annoyed with you two

You two were really good, though. Once you got down the basics, the other parts were just adding on flair. Emmet had the energy to do most any type of dance, so ballroom dancing wasn't too bad for him. You got to twirl him around and dip him while he exclaimed dramatic victorian phrases from the various shows you'd watch together. Very funny. Teacher not amused tho.

By the end of the class, Emmet was kind of sad. You two returned home after saying your goodbyes, and Emmet insisted you both dance a little in your living room, your Pokémon watching you with intrigue. Emmet rested his head on your shoulder as you led, and asked you if you wanted to take another class. How did tango sound?

🍓🍓🍓

Is it so wrong to want to waltz my lover around and romance them to death even though I am shorter and a woman? I believe not. I'll just jump when I have to twirl them.

Have a great day, love <3

~Renee

[neonpaperlanterns]

Share this Burden

Chapter Six

Chapter Six: Stepped Out

[Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Seven] [Part Eight]

(A/N: Sorry this update took so long. I was having trouble with this chapter and am still feeling a bit unsure about it. But I wanted to post it as see what others thought. It's also a lot shorter than I wanted it to be.)

Ume wasn’t entirely sure what to expect when living with Sakazuki. She had assumed he would be an ever present looming shadow and he was. When he was home at least. He was very work oriented and stayed at Headquarters for hours. He didn’t come home happy though. She could feel him prowling down the street like an impending storm. His expression betrayed nothing but she knew. And it made her head throb. 

The first night had been interesting. It had been quiet, not uncomfortably so but still silent. But when it had gotten later and she was preparing for bed things had gotten tense.

“What are you doing?” His voice had come out as a hiss but she could feel the confusion rumbling around in his mind. She had paused in getting the guest bed ready. Ume was tired, she just wanted to sleep.

“Going to bed?” she tilted her head in question as he huffed. Heat rolled off of him in waves that made sweat bead along her spine. “Where do you expect me to sleep?” she sighed and leaned against the bed frame. 

“You will sleep in my-” his mouth suddenly snapped shut and the temperature dropped. “Nevermind.” His face was heated as he stormed out.

Sakazuki had left her after that and she had collapsed onto the mattress. The sun had barely risen when she was being awoken. He demanded that she eat breakfast with him. It was rather overwhelming. She could feel how much he wanted to take care of her. He meticulously counted out her medication and even helped her with the stretches laid out in the doctor's pamphlet. It would have been nice if he wasn’t so intense about everything.

When he came home that evening she got to learn that he was a surprisingly opinionated eater. Ume had made dinner and it had gone over technically fine. She knew that he liked that she did this for him. Knew that when he had walked in the door he was filled with a bubbling domestic bliss. But he gently informed her of everything she did incorrectly. The rice was over cooked, it had too much salt, and the fish hadn’t been made right. He thinks he is being helpful. 

He isn’t.

Yet she nodded along and when he was done she gathered the plates and threw it all away. 

Ume let out a sigh as she settled on the porch. It was still early, barely past ten but she already felt exhausted. She supposed that was to be expected. She can’t remember the last time she slept. Let alone in an actual bed. She wished she hadn’t been woken up before the sun had risen. It would have been nice to finally wake up naturally for once. But she guesses she can’t blame Sakazuki. 

He was trying to prove something after all.

Leaning back slightly she trailed her gaze around the garden. It really was perfectly maintained. The space was beautiful and a breath of fresh air from the suffocating blankness of the inside. She would have loved to have something like this back on Sirona. 

A frown pulled at her lips. She missed her home. It had been a small one story house in the middle of nowhere. The nearest village had been at least a half a day's walk. It had been wonderful. It had been simple. It had been hers and she missed it. A dull ache began to form in her chest. Suddenly she didn’t feel like sitting on the porch. Didn’t want to be here. She could feel an itch begin under her skin, it spread until she was pacing. The white walls of Sakazuki’s home mocked her. 

Ume needed to leave.

She wasn’t supposed to though. But she needed to. Just for a little bit. Her eyes darted towards the door. 

Really she shouldn’t. Sakazuki didn’t want her leaving, not without him at least. It would be overwhelming. The drugs the doctor had administered her had worn off by now. Nothing would be subdued. There would be no barrier between her and everyone else. Yet the itching was getting worse. 

The noise the lock made was deafening in the silent home. It sounded almost liberating. She should put the lock back. Should deal with just sitting in the garden. That should be enough but it wasn’t. Not right now. Ume wasn’t really sure what Sakazuki would do if he decided to come home early. He was already a maelstrom of unsaid emotion. She didn’t think he would hurt her, that would ruin everything that he thought he wanted. But she knew that silence could be just as painful as a hand.

The handle is cool under her palm and the door is silent when it opens. Sunlight filters in and she can see people walking down the street. She can feel the faintest trickling of their feelings. Someone is upset, another is bored. One is content, happy to be as they are. Taking a deep breath she carefully shuts the door behind her.

Ume really shouldn’t be doing this. 

[deafeninggardenerpanda]

A waiter, dressed in pure white, quietly placed a large platter covered with a silver lid onto the table. King Dedede, Kirby, and Bandana Waddle Dee—the three of them stared at it motionlessly.

"Here is today's evening meal. Half a slice of toast, a slice of ham, and some salt soup," the waiter said respectfully while taking off the silver lid.

" ... Is this it?" King Dedede asked in a disheartened voice. The waiter replied with their chest puffed out with pride.

"Not at all! Today, we’ve also included a marvelous, special dessert!"

"A dessert!? Wow, what, what is it!?" Kirby sprung up, raising his voice. The waiter placed three small plates in front of the trio.

"Today’s special dessert is ... a bite of apple!"

" ... Huh—!?"

"A bite!?"

Set on the plates before them were teeny, tiny cuts of apple. Kirby and King Dedede’s faces both fell into despair.

"I can eat one hundred apples in one bite! I want to eat one hundred apples~!" Kirby wriggled and shouted. The waiter shook their head dejectedly.

"I'm sorry, we can't give you that, sir. It's our Minore’s law." 

"But ... but ...! " 

"It’s only seven days until you’ll be able to savor the magnificent feast, just be patient! It’s not much longer! Come on, you can do it~!" The waiter left quickly.

A gloomy air hung over the group. King Dedede and Kirby sighed simultaneously.

"One small pancake in the morning, one bowl of rice porridge at noon, and this for dinner! I can’t believe this inn is the most well-known in town ...! " King Dedede said bitterly, picking up his sliver of toast.

"Just a little longer, Great King," Bandana Waddle Dee said. "On the day of the festival, you’ll be able to eat so much it’ll seem like your stomach will burst ... "

"Hmph! In that case, I should have just come the day of!"

"You couldn’t have, anyways. It’s the law of this star that those who want to participate in the festival have to refrain from eating for seven days ... "

"I know that! Aghhh~, annoying!" King Dedede swallowed his bit of toast and groaned. Kirby also bit into his piece with tears in his eyes.

This was the planet Minore. It was a harsh star with the majority of its land being desert. However, the capital, Minoreze, was prosperous, being blessed with abundant water.

A festival was held once every year in Minoreze to thank those blessings of water. On the day of, a feast that neither citizen, nor traveler, would be able to finish would be served.

It was Bandana Waddle Dee who first learned about this star. He was cleaning up the junk mail as usual when a travel pamphlet happened to catch his eye. Bandana Waddle Dee immediately passed on the information to King Dedede.

"What~!? A feast you can’t finish!? The planet Minore’s specialty dishes are the oversized Spicy Deluxe Steak seasoned with local specialty spices! Fish only caught on this star that, whether you have it as sashimi or baked, is so delicious your cheeks will fall off! A traditional dessert that uses lots of fruit and special cream—any gourmets must have it at least once while here—an exquisite among exquisite dishes ...!? " 

King Dedede’s eyes lit up as he read the pamphlet.

"Waddle Dee, arrange a trip immediately!" he ordered. "We’ll charge on the festival of planet Minore!"

"Yes, Your Majesty. But, just one thing I’m worried about ... " Bandana Waddle Dee took out a magnifying glass and examined the corner of the pamphlet. He read aloud a sentence written in small text. "’Those who participate in the festival must enter the country seven days in advance and may only eat as little as possible during that time. There is a strict law that you must endure your hunger so you can savor the feast to your heart’s content the day of the event,‘ ... that’s what’s written."

However, King Dedede, blinded by talk of a feast, didn’t hear that part. 

"Stop complaining so much. Get on it, Waddle Dee. Book a reservation at the finest inn!" 

"Y—yes!" Bandana Waddle Dee left the room in a hurry when he heard King Dedede’s voice behind him.

"A feast you can’t finish!? All riiight, all riiight! I'm gonna eat everything! Aah, I can’t wait!"

Who had just appeared, and who looked like he was going to drool at any moment, was Kirby.

"Kirby!? Before I even realized ... " King Dedede shouted, startled.

"I came to play. I called out a bunch, but no one answered, so I just came in! I'm going~ to a festival, festival!"

"It’s no fun if you come along! This is my elegant vacation ... " 

"I have to start packing ASAP! Hm, I have to prepare my clothes, a toothbrush, some snacks ... "

"What clothes, you runt! You don’t need them—!"

... And just like that, the three of them left Dream Land in a big commotion. 

Kirby laid down on the floor completely limp after returning to the room from the dining room.

"Tummy ... so hungry ... help ... Waddle Dee ... " he mumbled. King Dedede also laid face up and raised a weak voice.

"What a magnificent sight ... so, so hungry, I can see the mirage ... meat ... meat ... the oversized steaks are calling me ... "

"Please hang in there! There’s plenty of water, okay ... " Bandana Waddle Dee poured some water from a nearby pot into King Dedede and Kirby’s mouths. The two swallowed it, then started clamoring wildly.

"My stomach’s crying out only being fed junk like this—! Jeez, what's going on with this star!"

"For the seven days before the festival, anybody who wants to attend has to eat as little as possible. The meals served at this inn are still super-luxury ... "

"I can’t believe ittt—!" King Dedede thrashed his limbs about in a fit.

"But the feast the day of will seem extra delicious because of this hunger," Bandana Waddle Dee said with a troubled look. "It's a tradition of this star that’s been going on for a long time."

"So annoying! If I knew this star would be like this, I wouldn't have come!" 

"Me neither! I want to go back to Dream Land—! I want to eat Chef Kawasaki's lunch special! UWAAH!" Kirby had also become unusually fainthearted.

Already in such bad condition on the first day of the trip, they could tell it was only going to get harder from here on out. A whole seven days until the festival ... As expected, Bandana Waddle Dee wondered if they could survive. Then, King Dedede approached the window, staggering.

"Look. There’s a big building in front of us."

" ... Yes." Bandana Waddle Dee clambered up the window frame and looked out alongside King Dedede. A large building stood in front of the inn. It was made of brick and had no windows.

"That seems to be the food storehouse."

"Yep. They’re keeping the food for the festival there. It seems that everyone on Minore has been saving up for a year." 

"Even though there’s mountains of food in there, I can't mess with it ... " Thinking of the food sitting in the storehouse, King Dedede's stomach made a loud grrr that caused him to stand up. "Uurgh ... I won’t be able to sleep as is. Waddle Dee, I'm going out."

"Eh? Where?"

"I’m going to look for a restaurant. There’s gotta be a restaurant or two that serves better food than this inn."

"I’ll go too!" Kirby jumped up with a bounce.

"It's too late already. I think all of the restaurants are closed," Bandana Waddle Dee said, worried.

"You don’t know that. I have to look for them." The great king left the room, unsteady on his feet. Kirby and Bandana Waddle Dee also followed after him. It was when they went down the stairs and were about to head outside—

"Where are you going, gentlemen?" They were stopped by a low voice. The three looked behind them. Who was standing there was the owner of the inn.

"I'm starving, it’s unbearable. I’m going to a restaurant." The innkeeper shook his head when King Dedede replied.

"It's too late already. There are no restaurants open at this time." 

"You don't know that, I’m going to search for them ... " 

"No, I do know. All restaurants in the city close early in the days before the festival. Because that is Minore law." 

"Even if the stores aren’t open, we still might be able to find something to eat," Kirby said. "The trees in the park might have some fruit on them ... " 

"You must not do that, sir. It is forbidden to eat in excess the week before the festival. Now, I have to close up. Please return to your room," the innkeeper said flatly and locked the doors.

"Grr ... this damn inn!" King Dedede cursed under his breath, but in a case like this, there was no choice but to stay quiet. The three dejectedly returned to their room. Both King Dedede and Kirby spent the night dreaming of the feast.

~~~~~

Finally, the end of the long night came.

"Surely this morning’s breakfast will be unbearably small too," King Dedede said in a drained voice as he got dressed. "No more than a piece of bread, a piece of bacon ... " 

"N ... mm ... mmmgh ... '' Kirby staggered, about to collapse at any moment. 

"At this rate, you’re both at risk of hurting yourselves ... Should we cancel plans and return to Dream Land ...? " Bandana Waddle Dee asked in concern. King Dedede shook his head weakly.

"No, I'm not going home. I've come all this way. I can't go home until I attend the festival and eat my oversized, spicy, deluxe steak!"

"Yeah ... " Kirby, while swaying as well, nodded. "I’ll also keep at it. I want to eat the festival’s feast!"

"But ... are you guys sure you’re okay? Kirby, you’re swaying ... " Bandana Waddle Dee held Kirby up.

"Even just a small breakfast is better than nothing. Let's head down to the dining room," King Dedede said.

The three left the room and went down to the first floor. Then—from the entrance, they heard a troubled commotion. Angry yelling shook the building, and the place was packed to the brim. The footsteps of who knows many people jumbled together into one noisy clamor.

Something happened that was causing everyone to kick up a fuss, it seems.

"Hmmm? What’s happened?" King Dedede said.

"There are people in armor. What could be wrong ...? " Bandana Waddle Dee asked worriedly, standing on tiptoe to watch the situation. The three headed towards the crowd together. 

The innkeeper was talking to several soldiers near the entrance. King Dedede and the others stood taut and strained their ears.

" ... I think it was just past midnight. I witnessed it by chance. Some ruffian-looking person was stealing large bags from the festival’s food storehouse! That person put the many bags on a moving dolly and immediately ran away." 

King Dedede, who heard the testimony, muttered with surprise.

"What! It seems like the food in the storehouse has been stolen!"

"The important food for the festival ... How awful." Bandana Waddle Dee frowned.

"What were the characteristics of the thief?" a soldier asked the innkeeper while taking notes.

"They were ... " 

—It was when the innkeeper said that, someone pushed their way through the crowd.

A fat, stout man with a fine mustache and beard revealed himself. The soldiers saluted in a panic. The man examined the innkeeper intently and called out to him. 

"Did you not see the thief’s face clearly?" The innkeeper jumped in surprise.

"The ... prime minister? W-why is the prime minister here!?" he shouted.

"Be at ease. I heard that all of the food in the storehouse was stolen. As Minister of Minore, naturally, this pains me deeply."

"Of course ...! " The owner of the inn bowed his head in respect.

"The minister has come out. It must be a big incident, huh," King Dedede whispered in a small voice. Bandana Waddle Dee nodded.

"Yeah, it must be. I hope the innkeeper can remember the criminal's face clearly ... " 

The minister gave the innkeeper a stern look and pressed closer.

"Testify clearly. What kind of face did the thief you saw have?"

"I-it ... it was ... uh ... " 

The innkeeper looked about the area, intensely flustered. His eyes met King Dedede’s, who was eavesdropping right nearby.

"That’s it, I remember," the innkeeper gulped and said. "Certainly, they were a larger person with what I think was a red robe. Their face was blue and they were wearing a crown with a white pompom!"

"That’s a really specific, distinct outfit. What a scary guy!" Kirby, listening to the testimony, murmured with a serious expression on his face.

"Yeah, right? What a bold crime." King Dedede nodded profoundly. 

"A red robe, a blue face, and a pompom crown," the minister said with satisfaction. "These are important clues. Soldiers, make a caricature immediately and hang it all over the city!"

"Hup!" 

It was when the soldiers saluted, the innkeeper abruptly, unnaturally, clapped his hands as if surprised.

"Ah, I remembered something even more important!" 

"What is it?"

"That thief, I think I've seen them somewhere before ... " The innkeeper turned around and pointed to King Dedede. "That’s the guy! He’s staying at my inn, he’s the criminal!" 

"What did you say ...!? " The soldiers immediately surrounded King Dedede and the three.

"A red robe, a blue face, a crown with a pompom! No doubt, he is the culprit! Soldiers, capture him!" the minister shouted triumphantly.

"Yes sir!" 

King Dedede, Kirby, and Bandana Waddle Dee didn’t understand what was happening at all. King Dedede was bound with rope while he stood, dumbstruck.

"What is this!? Why this tying up nonsense for me ...! " King Dedede finally snapped back. The soldiers approached and shouted at King Dedede with bloodshot eyes.

"Playing dumb, are ya!? Damn scoundrel, how dare you! What you did to the important food for the festival—!" 

"Everyone has been looking forward to it for the past year!" 

"Answer us, where have you hidden the stolen food!?" 

"King Dedede didn’t do anything! We were sound asleep in our room the whole night!" Kirby said in a panic.

Bandana Waddle Dee also desperately raised his voice and clung to the soldiers. "You’ve got it all wrong! Please let the king go! Untie the rope at once, please!" 

"Hey! If you keep getting in the way, we’ll arrest you too!" A soldier grabbed and picked up Bandana Waddle Dee.

"STOP!" King Dedede shouted angrily. "I won’t forgive you for being so rough to my subordinate! Hey, Innkeeper, what’s the big deal! Yesterday, you locked the doors and we went straight back to our room, didn’t we? Why are you giving false testimony!?"

"Hoho ... " The minister threw a glance at the innkeeper. "Is what this person says correct?" 

The innkeeper startled and spoke immediately without a second thought. "I wouldn’t tell anything like a lie! Last night, these guys tried to sneak out, saying they were going to a restaurant or something of the like. At that time, I was able to find and stop them, but after that, I'm sure they slipped past me and headed for the food storehouse!" 

"What are you saying! We went back to our room and went straight to bed!" King Dedede shouted loudly as he was hauled away by the soldiers.

"That's right! We’re innocent!" Bandana Waddle Dee's desperate cries did not reach their ears either. The minister spoke with venom in his voice.

"It’s clear as day how this crime took place; there’s no other explanation. Soldiers, lock them up!

"Yes sir!" 

"Stop, please—!" Bandana Waddle Dee, who clung to the king, was immediately tied up along with him.

"Wait! Hey, wait! Neither King Dedede nor Bandana Waddle Dee did anything!" Kirby pleaded with all his might.

"Shut it! Any more moaning about it and we’ll lock you up too!"

"That’s ... "  Kirby was at a loss for words. He stood in place, unable to move. 

"Kirby, please prove the great king’s innocence!" Bandana Waddle Dee shouted after him.

"Huh ...? " 

"Find the true criminal! You’re our only hope, Kirby!"

" ... Got it!" Kirby nodded. It was hard parting with Bandana Waddle Dee and King Dedede, but in this situation, there was nothing that could be done.

"I’ll find the real criminal, without fail! Wait for me, Waddle Dee!"

"I will! You got this, Kirby!"

King Dedede and Bandana Waddle Dee were dragged away. The minister turned to the innkeeper with a smile.

"The criminal was caught promptly thanks to your testimony. Take your reward, after this."

"T—thank you greatly." For some reason, the innkeeper’s face was pale.

"How awful! Neither Waddle Dee nor King Dedede are anything like a thief!" Kirby shouted, glaring at the two.

"Hm?" The prime minister stroked his beard. "Are you defending the criminals? Would you like to join them in prison too?"

"I ...! " Kirby balled up his fists. "I will find the real criminal, absolutely! I will absolutely rescue Waddle Dee and King Dedede!" he shouted.

Kirby turned his back on the two and ran away. When he disappeared, the minister grinned wide and laughed. He looked at the innkeeper.

"Your testimony came in much help. Well done."

"P—Prime Minister, sir ... i-is that ... why you’re here ... "

"Do you not know?" The prime minister brought his face close to the innkeeper’s. "I came to confirm what kind of testimony you would give. If something else came out of that mouth of yours ... well, you know what would happen, right ...? "

" ... Huh! The criminals were those travelers!"

"That's right. You're correct. The God of Minore will surely be pleased ... Hya hya hya!"

The minister laughed at the innkeeper, whose face had gone stark, and started slowly walking out.

Table of Contents | Next >

[thatmexisaurusrex]

For your celebration fluff event — 9. voting registration please!

Awww, thank you for the prompt, Jules! 🥺 🥰

Captain 1 of 7: The Voter Registration Captain

| Prompts | 2 |

"Huh. So, it is true," said Bucky casually, glancing over at the tables flooded with community college students, the kid standing on one dressed up in her very own homemade Captain America outfit.

Sam had heard about other Captain Americas.

Rumors of them all over the country. He and Bucky had decided to investigate to see if the rumors were true. And it seemed that, at least, one rumor was: that there was a Captain America in Jackson, Mississippi that had been going around and helping people with learning how to register to vote.

This girl, this Captain America, had her friends dressed in Captain America t-shirts, talking to people in line and handing out pamphlets on registering to vote either in person or by mail since online voter registration didn't seem to be an option in Mississippi.

She had friends on computers explaining to people where they could turn in mail-in registration and helping some of them fill out their forms. She had giant handmade poster boards in neat handwriting with FAQs about voting in Mississippi, about when the last day you could register to vote for the next election, with sites that would give information on important dates coming up.

She had a whole entire grassroots team helping people out and she couldn't have been older than nineteen.

"Get registered to vote!" yelled this Captain America on the table, "One of the most important things you can do as an adult and an American citizen is vote. It may not seem like it, but an election can be decided by a handful of votes. Laws are impacted for decades depending on who is elected to office, whether it be local, regional, or national. Your voice can flip a town, a city, a state. And I know it can be hard to get registered, get the information you need to vote when the time comes, but let Captain America help you in figuring out how to do your civic duty! Sign up for the Voter Captain Newsletter for email updates on when the next elections will be, what times you'll be allowed to vote, where you can vote, what to expect, and what to bring with you! There are also sign-up sheets for carpooling for the next election, so be sure to look at those - oh my god."

This Captain America before Sam froze when she saw him. Sam, in his own Captain America outfit, gave her a little wave.

Everyone gawked between the two Captain Americas.

The girl jumped off the table, apologized to the crowd as she moved through it, sprinted to Sam. She was at least a foot shorter than Sam. She stared up at Sam. He stared down at her. He wasn't sure if she was filled with nervous excitement or nervous panic. Maybe both.

"Nice setup you have here," said Sam, breaking the silence.

The girl beamed.

"It is, right? It started kind of small a few months ago. A couple of friends on a different campus. But I don't know, once I put on the suit, I got so much confidence and people started showing up," said the girl, her hands fidgeting, "I - I hope it's not a problem that I chose to be Captain America. You're just - you work with communities every day. You try to help people not just by going after the bad guys, but actually seeing who needs help. I look up to you so much. I want to be that type of person. The kind who can make a difference. But if you don't want me to wear the suit anymore, I'd understand. I'll stop wearing it if you ask."

Bucky and Sam exchange looks. A little smile passed between the two. Sam turned his attention back to this Captain America, giving her a big gap-toothed grin.

"You're a fantastic Captain America," said Sam, "Do you need any help with this?"

This Captain America took a moment to think.

"If you could come back during the weekend, we're actually going to head to a few different neighborhoods. I think you'd be more helpful then," she said, her surprised friends nodding enthusiastically.

"Give me the information and I'll make sure Sam gets there on time," said Bucky, one of her friends running over with a flier, explaining the details of where exactly they were going to visit this coming weekend.

Sam looked at it all.

The setup.

The team.

What the girl had done.

Sam had only been doing what he thought was the right thing to do as Captain America when he made the point to help in nonviolent ways as well. He knew people looked up to him, but he never expected someone to start a whole tiny movement like this. All he could think was that he was proud of this girl and what she had created.

⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

This series is being made to celebrate the anniversary of TFATWS. It’s loosely inspired by The United States of Captain America miniseries. Click here to see the upcoming prompts I’ll be doing!

[vague-humanoid]

The Rise of the Video Game Union is an all-in-one explainer on why game workers are unionizing and the specific steps that future organizers may take. We encourage you to share the link, and we’ve also prepared a zine version that you can print and distribute in your community. In legal speak, the zine is licensed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 United States license (CC BY-NC-ND 3.0 US), which permits distribution of the zine provided that it is not altered or modified, or used commercially. Learn how to print it in your town.

AtariAtari workers in California tried to unionize in 1984 — an attempt struck down by anti-union sentiment and by an internal hope that the games industry would be different, that the young field would eventually mend itself.

Hope didn’t work.

For decades, studios across the industry and the globe, studios both big and small, have pushed their workers to the limit through low pay, brutal crunch, and discrimination. At first, we only heard about these injustices in whispers. Workers had little leverage, and employers wielded creative careers as a cudgel, saying that game developers should feel lucky to be able to do what they love.

But in the past decade, workers across all industries have rekindled that spark of collective action, fighting back against poor working conditions with lawsuits, resignations, and stories told in the press. They’ve made inroads. On the occasion that a company had to publicly reckon with its actions — be it sexism, racism, discrimination, exploitation, or some other mixture of misbehavior and cruelty — bosses would vow to do better. In recent years, some promises have even become realities, as some of the industry’s worst offenders have invested in improvements that help them avoid legal repercussions and sliding stock prices.

Incremental change is real, and yet the games industry is still plagued by corporate mismanagement and workplace misconduct. There’s still so much to be done. Unions, now finally on the rise in the field, could help make significant, sustainable change across the industry. The video game industry is following a nationwide trend: Even though union membership in the U.S. has been declining steadily for decades, there has been a recent uptick in people filing union petitions.

In conversations with dozens of workers, and through a decade of Polygon’s coverage of the game industry workforce, we have heard a consistent message: that the video game industry will not repair its systemic problems voluntarily.

And so, nearly 40 years after Atari employees began marching down this long road, workers are taking power through solidarity. They’re starting unions.

A union isn’t a third party that comes in to fix things. It’s the very people at the company who are making games. It’s artists, programmers, and QA testers; writers, user interface designers, and systems engineers. Unions are how gaming workers believe they can wrest back some power and agency. Together. Because that’s how solidarity works — when workers have each other’s backs, their power combines.

As journalists, our responsibility is to bring awareness to systemic injustice, hold the powerful accountable, foster transparency, and provide the public with the information and tools necessary to improve their lives, their workplace, and the world. [Ed. note: Polygon is part of the Vox Media Union under the Writers Guild of America, East.] That is why we feel it’s our obligation to share the story of game creators in the thick of this process — to provide service journalism in the same way we seek out collectibles and achievements in the industry’s biggest games. This is simply a recognition that, for workers across the industry, the status quo has failed.

This pamphlet is neither an all-encompassing instruction manual, nor legal guidance, nor a demand that every studio unionize. What we have assembled is purely information, and for many, inspiration for a potentially better way. This is, for those interested, an overdue first step in the marathon. And those who are indeed interested should seek direct guidance from labor relations professionals, like lawyers and union organizations noted here and elsewhere.

Unionizing isn’t easy. There is risk involved in organizing — there are legal protections against retaliation, but employees often face resistance all the same. There’s also no guarantee that unionizing efforts will be successful. Some workers may not want to unionize, and that’s their choice. Management can apply implicit and explicit pressure, deploying anti-union talking points and going so far as to reprimand or even fire people. The process of forming a union, winning recognition, and then negotiating a collective bargaining agreement usually takes multiple years.

A union can fall into the same issues it may be trying to address if it’s not intentional in setting up a system that’s anti-racist and anti-sexist. And a union won’t automatically solve all of a workplace’s problems, but it can help establish a framework that makes it possible to take them on.

It’s a lot to take in. It can be scary. But there are people doing this work, people who are leading the way. We’ve highlighted a number of them in this explainer covering a complex issue, and the hope is to make the process a bit more transparent.

[nastyatticman]

slashers supporting a trans/non binary S/O

kinda broad, not representative of ALL trans/enby experiences ofc.

I have headcanons written for 10+ characters at the moment, feel free to request any you like c:

here’s headcanons for Billy Lenz, Brahms Heelshire,Lester Sinclair (w/ help from @slasherfucker42069​ ), Billy Loomis & Stu Macher (Polyam!Ghostface), Angela Baker (SC2&3)

Billy Lenz

Might ask you a bunch of invasive questions when he finds out you’re trans / non binary. Probably related to sex because his mind is in the gutter. But he won’t be mad if you don’t answer all of them

“He a little confused but he got the spirit” - supports you 100% even if he’s definitely learning still

Like sometimes he’ll ask you about your opinion on a passage from Stone Butch Blues, sometimes he’ll sneak into your room from the attic to show you a niche trans meme and ask you to explain the joke to him because it looks hilarious, he just doesn’t know what it all means

Probably asks you in depth about what words you’re comfortable with him using for you, so he can update his dirty talk lmaooo. But also so that he can give you pet names you like <3

Brahms Heelshire

ALSO may ask you invasive or inappropriate questions. His knowledge about transgender / nonbinary things is very spotty since he’s coming from a very uptight Christian background. And porn. May get pouty if you don’t answer everything, but later he’d feel bad and apologize by making you tea

Ends up researching, sometimes with basic videos & sometimes reading academic essays about gender and trans history. The dude lives on TE/R/F island, sadly, so you may have to help steer him in the right direction. But he’s smart enough to find good sources once he finds a good writer or two.

He may end up taking things too seriously, and if you make jokes about gender it may confuse him at first lol. Like… What’s a malewife? Is that a specific non binary identity or…? 

After reading about all the shit that’s going on, especially in the UK, he just wants to spoil you with gender affirming gifts. May get stereotypical with it - all trans girls like knee socks / all trans guys like old spice / all non binary people wear circle lenses, right Y/N? But if you tell him what you want he’ll get it 100%. Prepare to get 10 of every kind of affirming undergarment (binders, gaffs, etc)  if you ask for one lol.

Lester Sinclair (with help from Athen!)

Doesn’t know much about trans stuff, and acknowledges that. He wants to hear what it means to you - whether you have a deep connection to your transness, or you don’t think much of it, he recognizes that every trans / non binary person is different. Lester just wants to know what works best for you so he can support you

His support mostly comes from him having a good ear for listening - and for doing everything in his power to make you happy. If you want to sit back and have some beers (or drinks of your choice) and vent about your experiences or even just telling your favorite trans jokes. And if you choose to make any big changes - hormones, surgery, getting a new wardrobe - he’s right there by your side.

It doesn’t change much about his relationship with you, unless you ask. Generally he would treat partners who are male or female or both or neither about the same. Like, his go to pet names are gender neutral - sunshine, sweetpea, lovebug, etc. 

 Similarly, he’s flexible and doesn’t really attach gender to things in your relationship, like who cooks or cleans. He’ll show off his taxidermy and dance to the radio late at night with any kind of partner. He just wants to show his love

Billy Loomis & Stu Macher / Polyam!Ghostface

Billy plays it cool like he knows everything (he doesn’t). Probably looks for pamphlets and stuff online like “what to do if my partner comes out as trans” even if he won’t admit it

Stu is like “yeah! trans rights!” the second you mention you’re trans. His knowledge around trans stuff is not the best since it’s probably informed by memes & in jokes he doesn’t fully get, but it’s good that he’s learning from other trans people

Either way they’re both supportive and learning in their own ways

Stu would also be the one to practice getting your pronouns right or to help you try out a new name. Like ordering you Starbucks / drinks / food with your new name. Also he and Billy would practice by coming up with some wild stories about you as the sole survivor of the dreaded Ghostface killer

Angela Baker

She’s also trans so she understands if you may want to keep things lowkey, but she’s also ready to help if you need support with coming out or correcting people who misgender you

(very much the “Do you want me to kill that guy for you?” friend/partner)

I can see her not necessarily hiding that she’s trans but not telling people very often, so she’s kind of stealth in some areas. Either way she respects how much information you want to disclose to people, and checks in with you to make sure she’s acting appropriately. Whether you’d rather keep childhood anecdotes about Girl/Boy Scouts to a minimum, or you want to go with her to Pride, she’ll support you either way! 

Since she’s transitioned (medically & legally) she will 100% help you if you choose to transition. Helps with any paperwork and to talk to doctors and insurance companies etc, because those can be tough

Overall doesn’t make it a big deal but she loves having a trans partner who understands her. Trans 4 Trans love is pure.