This Is A Shit World. We Must Fix It

Formerly caeruleanval. Likes : Queer characters, queer history, and being respectful

[knightlightly]

I’m going to seriously die if the major conflict between Bitty and his parents this year isn’t him coming out, but if Bitty and Suzanne legit fall out over him using Aunt Judy’s jam recipe. 

Imagine Bitty and Suzanne, in true Southern fashion, the subtle and not-so-subtle passive-aggressive snipes and asides:

“Oh, Dicky, I was planning to send you a care package, but I’ve seen how much you enjoy getting things from your Aunt Judy–” 

“Mother, please–” 

“She shared some of those pictures from Mr. Alexei, showing off all that jam you sent to the Falconers! They must’ve loved that recipe so much, Dicky!” 

“Well, yes, but–” 

“And you couldn’t’ve gotten all those berries up north, so I figured she must’ve sent some up already. Me sending any, they’d’ve just gone to waste! What. a. shame. that would’ve been.” 

And of course it escalates, to where they’re gritting their teeth through every conversation and furiously complain to their partners after every time they speak. 

Coach, of course, doesn’t care, and wants to stay out of it, but Bitty interprets his silence for taking his mother side. And Bitty probably was already thinking about staying part of the summer in Providence with Jack…. 

Mentioning that to Suzanne, however, opens up a whole new can of worms:

“You’re neglecting your family!” 

“It’s just one summer!”

“It was just one batch of Judy’s jam, at first! Now you’re making it like you’re fixin’ to feed an army, and when’s the last time you made our recipe, hm?”

“That’s not the same thing and you know it, Mother–”

“But it’s tradition. You always come down for the 4th of July!”

“I can do to skip one year. They’re’ll be plenty more to come.”

“Do they even celebrate the 4th up there?” 

“Oh for–Yes, Mother. If I stay with Jack we’ll celebrate Canada Day, too. That’s twice the celebrating! Twice the tradition.” 

“Don’t take that tone with me, young man.” 

“Mother–” 

“–I just don’t know what’s got into you, Dicky! It’s like I don’t even know you anymore!” 

At that point the fight gets real.  Tempers flare, Words are spoken, and tears are shed, and in the end, Bitty snaps: 

“You know what’s got into me? Fine. I’m gay. I’m dating Jack. and I’m staying with my boyfriend over the summer. Deal with it, Mother!”

At which point Suzanne snaps back: 

“Well fine! That still doesn’t excuse your sorry excuse for preserves!” 

and hangs up on him. 

She calls him back immediately: 

“And just so you know, Jack Zimmermann is a wonderful young man who is welcome in my house any time. You are free to come home as soon as you come off that high horse’ve yours and re-learn some manners!”

She hangs up again. 

And that is my happy head canon of how Bitty comes out to his mother and doesn’t speak to her again for two months, not because he’s gay, but because of jam. 

Jack Zimmermann, on the other hand, receives a congratulatory call, a warm welcome into the family, and weekly care packages with rainbow-themed note cards saying “To Jack, my favorite son.” (You didn’t think Bitty got his saltiness from Coach, did you?) 

(For his part, Coach calls Bitty for an awkward but warm “So your mother says you’re gay, that right? Dating Zimmermann, too? Well. Guess you got some good taste there, Junior.”)

[beachdeath]

i worry that the way we talk about stonewall decontextualizes the event itself - that saying “the first pride was a riot” implicitly disconnects the raid on stonewall from the fact that similar raids on gay bars had been happening for decades prior, and that lgbt activists had been actively resisting police violence all the while, at the risk of their lives and livelihoods and reputations.

police oppression of gay people did not begin in 1969, and gay resistance to police oppression did not begin with the stonewall riots. that’s not to minimize the extreme importance of stonewall, of course, or the indelible contributions to our history and safety that were made by activists like sylvia rivera and marsha p. johnson and miss major griffin-gracy and stormé delarverie. but they were standing on the shoulders of decades and decades of leaders and activists who had come before them, who had fought and died and endured total brutality at the hands of homophobic police.

gay bars, as much as they were allowed to exist in the decades prior to stonewall, were persistently targeted by undercover police officers and by violent raids. in los angeles, from the mid-1940s onward, the LAPD employed out-of-work actors to pretend to be gay and infiltrate these spaces, solicit men for sex, and then book them on charges of public indecency.

the police department would give these officers quotas to meet on a weekly basis - round up and jail a certain number of homosexuals, or else. frequently, they would arrest men simply for appearing gay, or for having the bad luck to walk through a park or use a bathroom known as a gay cruising spot. this policy was a cash cow like none other, because these men would always plead guilty, would always agree to pay hefty fines in order to settle the matter and keep it quiet and avoid having their reputations ruined.

and the police would stop at nothing to bully people into pleading guilty. it was commonplace for police to handcuff their charges, shove them into the backseat of their cruisers, and then drive in circles for hours, looping to the outskirts and back, intimidating and harassing them all the way. by the time they finally pulled up at the police station and booked their charges, they would be so shaken by the abuse they’d just experienced that they’d plead guilty without a second thought, cough up whatever money they could spare in order to go free. 

in less extreme cases, police officers would simply verbally abuse the men they’d arrested, but just as often, the officers would physically beat, sexually abuse, or rape these men. oftentimes, the sexual abuse and rape would be part of the arrest itself - an officer would solicit sex from a man, the man would turn him down, and the officer would force him into sex anyway and then report that the man had initiated it.

like, this was daily fucking life for lgbt people for decades before stonewall. and fledgling gay activists fought it with everything they had, early. in 1952, the los angeles mattachine society established the Citizens Committee to Outlaw Police Entrapment after one of their founders, dale jennings, was stalked home by an officer, sexually assaulted in his own bedroom, and then booked for public indecency. rather than simply plead guilty, jennings chose to contest the charges and take them to trial - a totally unprecedented move - with the aid of socialist lawyer george shibley. and the jury voted 11-1 for acquittal, and he walked free. in 1952. seventeen years before stonewall.

but this shit kept happening, everywhere, for decades - new york city didn’t end its policy of police entrapment of lgbt citizens until the mid-1970s. and all the while, there was organized resistance. all the while, organizations like the mattachine society and street transvestite action revolutionaries fought back. 

it’s super, super convenient for heterosexual society to claim that there was just one inciting incident, and one moment of spontaneous, courageous resistance, that sparked the gay rights movement as we know it today. but we can’t fall into that trap. there were decades of brutal, violent police oppression, and there were decades of structured, well-organized resistance to that oppression. 

for a long time, the gay struggle against police violence was the only fight there was. in the late 1940s, at the dawn of formal organization, nobody was agitating for their right to live openly as gay or avoid employment discrimination or get married or adopt children. the movement emerged in opposition to the systematized detainment and torture and rape of gay people by police. 

and that is why lgbt people don’t owe the police shit, and why any police department with the audacity to demand time and space in a pride parade needs to be met with loud, unequivocal resistance. not because of one raid or one riot, but because of decades and decades of unapologetic brutality.

[canmom]

(chronology note: STAR was incredible, but they were founded in 1970, the year after the Stonewall Riot.

And to add to the (great) discussion above, Stonewall was not the first major US riot led by trans and GNC Black and latina people against police brutality - the Compton’s Cafeteria Riot in 1966 took place three years earlier in Tenderloin, San Francisco and is probably the most comparable event. Other early events include the 1965 New Year’s Ball Raid in SF, and the demonstrations in response to the 1967 Black Cat raid in LA. There’s a discussion of why Stonewall became ‘the’ origin event in this paper that I’ve skimmed.)

[caerulean-val]

Switching blog to bouquetchildotn bc I like going the the gay tag. I would love to take all my followers w me!

[league-of-extraordinarycomics]

[flarsanddanie]

Ransom has tried colour coding his notes about fifteen separate times and failed miserably because he either spends four hours picking the perfect colours for everything and putting everything in order or he gets distracted by the colours while reading the notes and just zones out looking at the colours. He will yellow highlight things he doesn’t know for sure in essays because it distracts him enough to go and fix it or research it. His study methods involve teaching Holster neuroscience, talking to the ghosts, drawing a billion diagrams on overlays and writing full length essays on each learning objective of the week but with far less organisation than anyone expects. Sometimes he can’t focus for three days and gets very little done and then hyper focuses for three hours and get the entire project done. It’s a struggle and inconvenient because half the time the hyperfocus comes four days after the essay was due. He doesn’t realise that not everyone does this until his fourth year despite the constant jokes about his short attention span and struggle to apply attention to detail. After a lot of gentle bullying from Bitty who struggles with the same thing he goes to the campus counsellor and gets some focusing techniques and on his way to sorting out a problem which has effected him for years now.

[jewishnursey]

Eric Richard Bittle is Jewish Pt 2: Zimbits

If you haven’t read part 1 already I suggest reading that now! It makes this make sense!

https://jewishnursey.tumblr.com/post/161849727360/eric-richard-bittle-is-jewish

Anyways, as promised here’s part 2 tw: antisemitism tw: homophobia tw: slurs

Bitty is Jewish. This we know. Bitty grew up feeling shame for his Jewish identity. This we also know.

But what you may not realize is that Bitty has always had a thing for Jewish men, whether he wanted to or not.

Bitty’s first crush was Jeff Goldblum. His daddy had let him watch Jurassic Park behind his mama’s back once when Bitty was 10.

He thought that his son’s transfixed eyes and rising blush were to do with Laura Dern, and chuckled softly at his son’s infatuation.

But no. It was Jeff Goldblum. All 6"4, big nosed, strong jawed nice Jewish boy that was the actor being chased by dinosaurs.

It didn’t stop there, there was Adam Shapiro at his temple who was in high school when Bitty was in middle school, and who sang for the choir. It made Bitty’s knees wobble.

Then they moved, and in his Freshman year of highs school, Jacob Ruben was Bitty’s partner for the science project. Of course Bitty developed a crush, Jacob had kind eyes and a brilliant smile. They became good friends.

That ended when Bitty found Jacob being cornered by some guys after school one day. “Kill the Jew! Kill the Jew!” They chanted cruelly, each statement punctuated by a swift kick to the ribs.

“Stop it!” Bitty yelled at the mob, “leave him alone!”

“Shit, do you hear this f*g?” One of the boys chuckled, “get him.”

They chased Bitty into a dumpster, and then proceeded to kick and push it with Bitty inside.

They called him all sorts of things, none that hurt nearly as much as thinking about Jacob hunched over, bruises kissing his side, blood dribbling out of his nose.

The next Monday when Jacob didn’t show up to his science class, Bitty knew he wouldn’t be back.

Jacob had paid the price for being the Jew at this school. Bitty wished he didn’t know how that felt.

Thinking back to his own head slamming against the inside of the dumpster wall, perhaps Bitty would pay twice the price,

For being the Jew and for loving the Jew.

After that day, Bitty had vowed to marry a goy as his mama had before him.

She had the right idea. He wouldn’t get hurt that way, he wouldn’t have to watch someone he loved be hurt that way either. It was just easier.

But then something miraculous happens that changes things,

he meets Jack Zimmermann.

The first day of practice, when Jack introduces himself to the team as the captain, Bitty thinks about Jurassic Park.

He sees high cheekbones, sharp jaw and nose, dark, wild hair and eyebrows, and suddenly he’s 14 and watching Jeff Goldblum for the 100th time, sweating a little under his blush.

He ignores the pang in his chest and proceeds to convince himself that Jack hates him.

It’s easier if Jack hates him. Bitty’s more comfortable with being hated than daring to follow his heart.

Then the team finds out he’s Jewish and everything changes again.

Bitty goes to Hillel with Jack sometimes and it’s great, better than he ever thought it could be. Before he knows it, he’s falling deeper.

It scares him how much he likes Jack.

One day Bitty is at Hillel with Holster, and he spots two boys holding each other’s hands during the sh'ma.

Bitty stares at them the whole time, to a point where even Holster notices and whispers, “Bits? You good?”

“Holster, they’re holding hands.” Bitty whispers back.

“Uh, yeah.” As if it’s the most obvious thing, as if Holster has seen this a thousand times.

“Holster,” Bitty whispers a bit more forcefully catching the eye of a few students around them, “two boys are holding hands, at temple, and nobody is saying anything.”

“You’re saying something.” Holster points out, “besides Bits, it’s Samwell, look at the company you’re with, it’s not unheard of for two boys to hold hands around here.”

It clicks then, like a joint going back into place. Bitty’s fears float away for the moment.

It’s ok.

After that, Bitty comes out to his Moomaw. He figures if there is ever a first step, she is it.

He almost cried when he lets the words “I’m gay” fall from his lips, but he holds it together until she starts to tell him how much she loves him.

“Now,” she says after she’s had enough of the tears, “is there a special fella you’ve got your eyes on?”

Bitty thinks on that a moment, lets his brain flood with images of blue eyes, broad nose and even broader shoulders.

He flushes.

“Oooohhhh goody! Now, I know your mama married a goy, and you know I love your daddy, but is he Jewish?” She asked a little more than hopeful.

“Yes.” Bitty replied, easy as pie.

He doesn’t remember ever smiling so bright.

[caerulean-val]

I made a post abt this before, but I was want to reiterate that a huge reason of why some people in chronic pain make “No walking/yoga/drinking tea found only in this one weird new yorker’s rooftop garden won’t fix me” is because it’s so frustrating for us to be doing all that we can to get better, but still be in so much pain we can’t function.

[singing-supper-deactivated20170]

Carrie Fisher’s autopsy reveals she had high levels of “Mind your own fucking business” as well as “Who the fuck made that report public anyway”

[ao3feed-checkplease]

honey, i'd put money on myself

read it on AO3 at http://ift.tt/2rJmZGc

by WrishWrosh

Ransom is pretty sure he just ascended. He has left his body behind and moved on to a better place and he must now be in heaven, receiving his eternal rewards for the week Holster spoke only in Michael Scott quotes, because Alexei Mashkov is standing in the doorway of the Haus holding a tray of deluxe nachos from Jerry’s.

Words: 3550, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Check Please! (Webcomic)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Justin “Ransom” Oluransi, Alexei “Tater” Mashkov, Adam “Holster” Birkholtz

Relationships: Alexei “Tater” Mashkov/Justin “Ransom” Oluransi

Additional Tags: Fluff and Humor, Misunderstandings

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2rJmZGc

[garden-of-succulents]

A++++++++ RANSOM CHARACTERIZATION

[brandoncarlo]

all bruins can be categorized as either dads, daddies or sons. McQuaid is a daddy. Backes is a daddy. Chara, bergeron, krejci, they’re dads. Pastrnak and vatrano are sons. krug and marchand are also sons even though they’re close in age to some of the dads. ryan spooner is a son. brandon carlo is a son but is a good two years and a chara retirement away from daddy. an exception is jimmy hayes who shouldn’t even be called a bruin.

[romanpolak]

False they are all my fathers

[brandoncarlo]

you don’t even go here.

[romanpolak]

Then explain how every single boston bruin raised me

[monttagues]

Omgomgomg. What is Mrs Weasley totes thinks that Harry is gay and is totally surprised when he and Ginny get together because she was sure it was gonna be Harry & Ron, or 1 of the twins??????

sixth year era. mrs weasley gets a letter from ginny, saying “i better tell you before you hear from my brothers. or worse: the press. harry and i are together” and sending a letter back like “what do you mean you’re dating harry when did he and ron break up” and of course ron reads it and complains about it it (“what the heck is she talking about i’m not even gay.” harry laughs and winks at him “not even for me?” ron blushes and is left speechless) 

[pinuparena]

By  Aaron Blaise

[fatfreefiddlefaddle-deactivated]

how have I never thought of whale mermaids…??

[pardonmewhileipanic]

how have i never thought of whale/shark/etc mermaids that aren’t human sized?!!?!? like holy shit? HOLY SHIT!? 

[caerulean-val]

So beautiful! I would love to see a sunfish mermaid bc the typical cut each in half then blend creates a somewhat humorous effect

[tdkeh]

Tater headcanon/ficlet

Tater’s parents divorced when he was very young, he doesn’t even remember a time they were together (although they had an amicable relationship post-divorce). His father was a hockey player, his mother was a figure skating champion.

He grew up in Russia with his father, but would spend a couple months every year visiting his mother in the USA. She retired from competition, but continued on to be a formidable youth figure skating coach. Her students were always successful.

When Tater visits his mom, he usually tags along to her early morning practices. Truthfully, he catches a bit more sleep in the stands most days, but he does really enjoy watching the progress her students have made on days mornings when he’s well-rested.

When he’s 11 or so, his mom takes on a tiny blond boy as her newest student, and Tater absolutely LOVES watching him practice. The kid is fast learner, and young Tater has been around the best and brightest of figure skating enough to know that this boy is going to be great.

Even when Tater returns home to Russia after his visit, he still asks his mom about how the little blond boy is doing with his lessons. The next time he visits, the improvement is already staggering. Now he eagerly attend his mom’s early morning lessons to see what this talented tiny boy can do.

Tater meets him once, but the funny little American boy talks very fast and Tater has no idea what he’s saying. He manages to say “Hi” and “good skate” and then stares, completely overwhelmed by this ball of blond energy shaking his hand and talking a mile a minute. Tater knows he’s saying something nice about his mom, because the boy is smiling a lot and looks over at her a couple times, but he knows very little English, so it mostly goes over his head. Still, it makes him smile, and he’s happy his mom has found such an enthusiastic student.

The years go by, and although Tater is sad to hear that his mom’s star pupil no longer figure skates, he gets busy with his hockey career. His mother has other talented students now, and she’s back in Russia. Life goes on. It’s been years since he’s thought of the tiny blond boy…

But one day, his teammate Jack starts (does he ever stop?) bragging about how wonderful his boyfriend is, and brings him along for a fun shinny game with the Falcs to show off Bitty’s skills and speed.

“Remember last time we did this, Bits?” Jack teases his boyfriend while the other guys set up the nets.

“The boys made me do a jump in my hockey skates for the school paper,” Bitty replies with a laugh.

Tater insists on seeing Jack’s little blond boyfriend do a jump, because he does miss watching figure skating like in his childhood. Bitty obliges, and the moment he lifts off the ice, Tater is filled with nostalgia. He knew something was familiar about this energetic young man.

“Hey, little B!” Tater skates over to Bitty immediately. “You’re so good. Always jumping so high, even in hockey skates.”

“Well, it would be better if I were in figure skates, and had a bit more practice…”

“Is okay. Long time since you started hockey, yes? When you were 15?”

Bitty doesn’t think too much of it, aside from being a bit of embarrassment that Jack has told his friends THAT much about him. “Yeah, I figure skated for years before that.”

“So many championships. Good skate.”

Bitty chuckles, remembering the time he met Katya’s quiet son who didn’t speak much English. That poor shy boy had only managed to tell him “good skate” too. He was hit with a wave of déja vu. This giant of a man was about 10,000 times more talkative than that boy, but now that Bitty thought about it, he did look a little familiar. “Um… Tater? This may sound strange, but…”

“So B, you know my mom Katya, yes?”

“OH. MY. GOD.”

“We should send her selfie now.”

[memefix]

the worlds most under appreciated meme is John Kenn pictures with captions

[chroniclesofachemist]

This appeals to my sense of humour far more than any written words can communicate

[caerulean-val]

These are the Babadook’s lovely relatives. They have come to visit him and give him a nice card for coming out! Frank has plans to set up his cousin with a dear demon from another creepy picture

[elsinore-snores]

yeah so basically… my credit card was stolen last week and it won’t get here till this friday, and i have 10 euros cash left. my computer does not hold a charge and shuts down whenever you move it slightly and i need 300 to buy a new one. that 300 plus my rent due in 10 days puts me 200 euros in debt

please, if you are neurodivergent, check out my etsy. i’m autistic and make things for disabled people like noise muffling beanies/headbands, soft jewelry, sensory friendly clothing, stim jewelry. 

neurotypicals, be an ally and rebloog this please! 

etsy link

[uwusnavi-de-la-vega]

I highly recommend ordering from them!! They’re super sweet and their soft jewelry is so comfortable and cute!!!

[elsinore-snores]

aw, thank you so much!

[elsinore-snores]

update: it’s not getting here till monday and i have 50 cents left

[legojacques]

I NEED MORE KIT AND JUNIOR! That small fic of them from kit's pov, I just couldn't handle how adorable it was!

This is a sequel to this feat. Kit Purrson and Junior the puppy.

—

There was an intruder in the house.

Or, at least, that was what Junior told Kit one night when he came barrelling down the stairs like his tail was on fire. He crushed Kit in an effort to get close to her, not realizing how heavy he was, before she’d hissed and pushed him off.

“Stop, slow down, kid. I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

Junior’s face was shoved into the cushion, his whine still too muffled to really make sense of what he was saying. He was shaking, which meant something had really spooked him. Kit licked a spot on his head until he calmed down enough to look up at her.

“There’s a monster upstairs,” he whimpered.

Kit’s first instinct was to snort and swat the kid (gently). “Kent wouldn’t let a monster into the house.”

“No, I saw it!” Junior insisted. “I saw it! Upstairs! I tried to chase it away but then it ran towards me!”

Kit eyed Junior skeptically before glancing at the staircase. She stood up, intending to investigate this so-called monster, but Junior lost his mind when she tried to step off of the dog bed. “I’m just going to go see.”

“No!” he whined. “Don’t go! It’ll eat you!”

Kit’s resolve faltered, and she curled up next to the kid again, trying to soothe him. The front hall was illuminated by the nightlight Kent had plugged in, but the rest of the house was dark. The pet sitter had stopped by and left hours ago and Kent wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. If there really was something upstairs, they would be alone. Kit shivered and curled closer to Junior. In the morning, she decided. In the morning she would go see this monster.

In the daylight, the house seemed much less scary with the sunlight streaming through the windows, creating perfect napping spots that Kit would have to come back later. After using the litter box, Kit sat the bottom of the stairs for a while before finally taking a deep breath and ascending them. She didn’t believe in monsters, she told herself, as she slowly climbed up each step.

A whimper behind her had her pausing at looking back. Junior was on the stairs, but he was still too scared to do anything except follow her. They made it onto the landing on the second floor, and so far, everything was still.

“Where was this monster?” Kit asked.

“In that room.” Junior indicated.

Cautiously, they edged towards it and Kit sidled past the door which had been left ajar the night before. Nothing was out of the ordinary: a bed, dresser, and chair were all in their usual spots. “There’s nothing here,” she called back to Junior.

Junior crept into the room, but then yelped and ran back out again.

“What? What was it?” Kit asked running after him. Junior was hiding in a corner by the bathroom.

“There’s two monsters now!”

“I didn’t see anything.”

Junior continued to whimper and Kit stalked back into the guest room. There was still nothing monster-like in the room, but as she prowled around, sniffing, the new, floor mirror Kent had bought last week caught her eye. She walked up to it to study it quizzically before she finally rolled her eyes.

“Kid, it’s a just mirror!” she called.

It took some coaxing, but Kit finally got Junior back into the guest room where he learned what a mirror was for the first time. Kit watched from the bed while Junior amused himself by taking several steps back, running towards the mirror, and then licking his reflection . Kent was going to have to clean the slobber off  when he got home, but at least there weren’t anymore monsters.

Honestly, dogs.

[shanastoryteller]

cinderella: redo

so i was watching cinderella while doing my nails and waiting for them to dry which was clearly a Mistake because now i can’t help but think -

the evil stepmother was always evil, okay. say her abuse of her own daughters was different than that of cinderella’s - but it was still abuse. giving them impossible expectations, telling them they were never good enough, never pretty enough, never smart enough. and then she gets married, and anastasia and drizella are ecstatic because this man seems kind and warm and maybe just maybe he can temper their mother, maybe with him around she won’t be so cruel. so they’re on their very best behavior in the beginning, they do just as their mother taught - they trot out their best upper court manners in an attempt to get their new stepfather to like them. but it just comes off as cold and snooty and they’re trying, they are, they’re just bad at it. and they see how he is with cinderella, the smiling girl their own age, and they are jealous. they don’t mean to be, they try not to be, they know it isn’t becoming of young ladies. but she gets hugs and kisses and affection and they get rulers slapped on their hands when they reach for desert and sharp jabs to their sides when they slouch and - soon they hate cinderella, not for anything she’s done, but for what she has and they dont

but then her father dies. and it’s all a tumble of things and cinderella is crying and they’ve lost their only chance at escaping their mother’s clutches and it’s terrible. and everything settles and there’s no reason to be jealous anymore but resentment is hard to let go of and they don’t know what to do. they’re only kids too after all. and they’re so terribly bad at comforting people, they can do flowery words and know all the right bows but cinderella is so sad and they just don’t know what to do with that, because they’re supposed to be sisters but they’re not even friends

and slowly but surely their mother starts abusing cinderella, starts making her a maid in her own home, and she’s their mother, what are anastasia and drizella supposed to do? she rules them with an iron fist, and cinderella doesn’t even like them anyway, it’s none of their business.

except one night anastasia crawls into her sister’s bed in the middle of the night and wakes her up. “i was thirsty,” she explains, eyes wide and shiny, and they’re bad at this with other people but drizella has no problems with pulling anastasia into her arms. the younger girl clutches her sister and continues, “i was thirsty and i went down to the kitchen to get some water and - and cinderella is still up! she’s doing the dishes, and she should be asleep, mom is going to make her make breakfast in the morning and -” she cuts herself off with a hiccup and whispers, “it’s not fair.”

“life isn’t fair,” drizella says, echoing one of their mother’s favorite phrases. but her sister is staring at her with wet eyes, and it’s not like their mother is likely to get up before sunrise anyway, she hates waking up, so she pulls herself and anastasia out of bed and off they go.

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