🌙Servingfairydust🌙

✨Misandrist✨

[servingfairydust]

💋𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐 𝑷𝒐𝒔𝒕💋

-𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐛𝐢𝐚𝐧

-2️⃣0️⃣

-𝑽𝒊𝒓𝒈𝒐 ☀️ 𝑻𝒂𝒖𝒓𝒖𝒔 🌖 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨⬆️

-𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓

-𝒄𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝐨𝐟 𝟒 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬

-𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄 & 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃.

-𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐑𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐭, 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐭, 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐜, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐜, 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐜, 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩, 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫, 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐥, 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐭, 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐩 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐳𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭, 𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐢, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬 (𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠🫂)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 ;)

[menloathe]

when the song tackles you to the ground and starts beating the ever loving shit out of you

[barnesmoons]

vera farmiga, the woman you are

[hunterbloodknight]

Lorraine’s Hands

[shoegazer4]

[caramelcarmen]

One Cosmopolitan Part 2

@servingfairydust

Fall break felt unreal to Elizabeth.

After weeks of cold dorm rooms, endless reading, and surviving mostly on coffee and anxiety, stepping off the bus back in Chicago felt like finally breathing properly again.

Maddison nearly tackled her into a hug.

“You look tired,” Maddison said immediately.

“Nice to see you too.”

“You have eye bags.”

“She’s in college,” Lola announced dramatically from behind Maddison. “That’s natural for them.”

Elizabeth laughed for real this time.

It felt strange being home again. The apartment was still messy. Their mother still drifted in and out of rooms half-paying attention to things. But somehow, Elizabeth noticed she no longer felt trapped there.

Maybe because now she knew escape was possible.

The next morning, Lola declared it a “mandatory recovery day.”

“No arguments,” she announced. “You look dead.....and not in the cool way.”

So the girls went downtown to a salon with giant mirrors and cucumber water Elizabeth refused to drink because “water shouldn’t taste fancy.”

Maddison went first.

She nervously showed the stylist pictures on her phone while Elizabeth watched from the waiting chair.

“Curtain bangs?” Elizabeth asked skeptically.

Maddison looked horrified. “Do not ruin this for me.”

Two hours later, Maddison emerged looking older somehow. Softer. Cooler. Her dark eyes practically glowed beneath the new hairstyle.

Lola gasped dramatically. “Oh my GOD. You look so pretty. You always do ofcourse but you look like a princess ”

Maddison turned pink instantly.

Elizabeth smiled quietly. “They look good on you.”

That mattered most.

Lola only got a trim because, according to her, “My hair already getting taken care of by my mom.”

Then came Elizabeth’s turn.

She almost refused.

“I don’t need anything fancy.”

“Yes you do,” Lola snapped.

“No I don’t.”

“You had a stress-induced emotional breakdown over\ law.”

“That feels unrelated.”

“It is deeply related.”

Eventually, Lola and Maddison bullied her into the salon chair.

Elizabeth expected to hate it.

But sitting still while someone washed her hair gently under warm water nearly made her fall asleep. For once, nobody needed anything from her. Nobody expected her to solve problems.

By the end, the stylist had given her a smooth blowout with subtle dark brown highlights woven into her already dark hair.

When Elizabeth looked in the mirror, she blinked.

She looked…

Pretty.

Not intimidating. Not exhausted. Not angry.

Just pretty.

Lola placed a hand dramatically over her chest. “Finally. The world can witness your face structure.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes immediately. “You’re insane.”

Maddison grinned. “You look expensive.”

That made all three girls laugh.

Afterward, they went shopping downtown.

Lola bounced between stores like she owned them while Maddison held shopping bags and offered surprisingly strong opinions.

“That sweater makes you look meaner,” Maddison informed Elizabeth.

“I am mean.”

“You’re emotionally mean.”

Elizabeth snorted.

At one point, they wandered into a luxury mall store mostly “for inspiration,” according to Lola.

Elizabeth barely looked around before casually pulling several gift cards from her wallet.

Lola froze.

“…Why do you have those?”

Elizabeth looked confused. “What?”

Lola grabbed one dramatically. “THIS IS TIFFANY.”

Maddison’s eyes widened. “And Coco?”

Elizabeth shrugged. “Oh. Yeah.”

“OH YEAH?” Lola nearly shouted. “Elizabeth Claire Parker, why do you casually own rich-person gift cards?”

Elizabeth blinked. “A friend gave them to me.”

Lola stared at her suspiciously. “What kind of friend gives someone Tiffany gift cards?”

Elizabeth suddenly looked uncomfortable.

“…A normal one?”

“Absolutely not.”

Maddison leaned closer immediately. “Wait. WHO?”

Elizabeth sighed heavily, already regretting speaking.

“His name is Daniel.”

Lola gasped so loudly nearby shoppers turned around.

“THERE’S A BOY?”

“He’s not—”

“There is ALWAYS a boy.”

Elizabeth crossed her arms. “He’s just my friend.”

Maddison grinned knowingly. “Mhm.”

Elizabeth hated how identical their expressions looked.

“He grew up rich,” she explained reluctantly. “His family sends him ridiculous care packages and he doesn’t use half the stuff.”

“So he gives luxury jewelry gift cards to YOU?” Lola narrowed her eyes dramatically. “Elizabeth. Be serious.”

“He said I deserve some nice things sometimes.”

The words slipped out before Elizabeth realized how personal they sounded.

Lola and Maddison immediately went silent.

Because that sentence hit somewhere deeper than expensive stores or gift cards.

Elizabeth looked away first.

Growing up, nice things had always felt temporary. Fragile. Meant for other people.

So even now, standing in a beautiful store with polished floors and warm lighting, part of her still felt like the ten-year-old girl eating a birthday cupcake on the kitchen floor.

Maddison gently looped her arm through Elizabeth’s.

“Well,” she said softly, “he’s right. ”

Elizabeth swallowed hard.

Lola pointed at her immediately. “Also I need every detail about this man immediately.”

Elizabeth groaned.

And for the rest of the afternoon, the girls wandered through stores laughing loud enough to annoy strangers while Lola interrogated Elizabeth about her mysterious college friend. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The mall food court was crowded and loud, full of clattering trays, screaming toddlers, and people carrying too many shopping bags.

The girls claimed a table near the windows.

Lola dropped into her chair dramatically with a giant hotdog and fries. Maddison carefully balanced two slices of pizza and a pink lemonade, while Elizabeth sat down with a burger and the biggest iced coffee she could find.

“You absolutely look like someone who survives on caffeine and resentment,” Lola informed her.

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

Elizabeth unwrapped her burger calmly while Maddison kept staring at her expectantly.

Finally Maddison asked, “So… Daniel.”

Elizabeth immediately sighed.

Lola pointed her hotdog at her accusingly. “Do not sigh at us. You introduced rich mysterious man lore into the conversation.”

“He’s not mysterious.”

“What’s his last name?” Lola asked instantly.

Elizabeth paused.

“…Bennett.”

Lola narrowed her eyes. “That is an expensive-sounding last name.”

“He’s just a guy.”

“Guys do not casually hand out Tiffany gift cards.”

Elizabeth took a bite of her burger to avoid answering.

Maddison leaned forward. “How’d you meet?”

“In class.”

“What class?”

“Political ethics.”

Lola groaned dramatically. “Of COURSE. You probably fell in love while arguing about constitutional interpretation.”

“We are not in love.”

“Yet,” Maddison muttered before sipping her lemonade.

Elizabeth nearly choked on her burger.

The other two burst out laughing.

“Can I finish one sentence without being bullied?” Elizabeth asked.

“No,” Lola answered immediately.

Elizabeth shook her head but couldn’t stop smiling a little.

“He’s actually annoying,” she admitted.

“Ooooh,” Lola sang. “That means she likes him.”

“I do not.”

“What’s annoying about him?” Maddison asked curiously.

Elizabeth thought for a moment.

“He notices things.”

“That’s your complaint?”

“He remembers everything I say,” Elizabeth continued. “Like… weird details.”

Lola rested her chin dramatically in her hands. “Disgustingly romantic already.”

“It’s not romantic!”

“Elizabeth,” Lola interrupted, “you glare at most people like they personally ruined your life. If you voluntarily spend time with a man, it means something.”

Maddison nodded seriously. “Scientifically true.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

But secretly, she thought about Daniel.

About the way he always saved her a seat during lectures. The way he brought her coffee during finals week without asking her order because he already remembered it. The way he never looked uncomfortable when Elizabeth got intense or stubborn or overly serious.

Most people eventually told Elizabeth she was “too much.”

Too intense. Too guarded. Too opinionated.

Daniel never did.

Instead, he listened.

“He grew up really differently than us,” Elizabeth admitted quietly.

Lola softened slightly at the change in her tone.

“Like how?”

Elizabeth picked at her fries absentmindedly. “Big house. Parents together. Vacations. Money. Stability.”

Maddison stayed quiet.

“And yet,” Elizabeth continued slowly, “he’s weirdly… normal about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t act superior.” Elizabeth shrugged. “Half the time I forget he’s rich until he says something insane like ‘our lake house.’”

Lola burst out laughing. “OUR LAKE HOUSE.”

Elizabeth smiled despite herself.

“But sometimes it’s strange,” she admitted softly. “Like… he’ll talk about childhood memories and realize halfway through that I can’t relate to any of it.”

The table quieted slightly.

Because they all knew what Elizabeth’s childhood had actually looked like.

Daniel had bedtime stories and family vacations.

Elizabeth had overdue bills and protecting Maddison from screaming matches downstairs.

Maddison reached over and stole one of Elizabeth’s fries.

“You deserve good things too, Lizzie.”

Elizabeth looked down at the table for a second.

That sentence still felt unfamiliar every time she heard it.

Lola pointed dramatically again. “Okay but the IMPORTANT question.”

Elizabeth groaned. “What now?”

“Is he hot?”

Maddison immediately dissolved into laughter.

Elizabeth covered her face briefly. “You’re unbelievable.”

“That’s not a no,” Lola noticed instantly.

Elizabeth sighed in defeat.

“…Unfortunately.”

Lola slapped the table triumphantly. “I KNEW IT.”

Maddison grinned. “Describe him.”

Elizabeth hesitated.

Then, despite herself, she smiled a little into her coffee cup.

“He has really stupid hair.”

Lola gasped. “She’s gone.”

“He argues with professors for fun.”

“DEFINITELY gone.”

“And he keeps lending me his jackets because he thinks I never dress warm enough.”

Maddison made a tiny emotional noise.

Elizabeth pointed at her immediately. “Don’t.”

“You like him,” Maddison whispered happily.

Elizabeth leaned back in her chair, cheeks slightly pink.

Maybe she did.

And honestly?

That terrified her a little.

Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away in New York City, where , Beatrix Blair Belmont lived in an entirely different universe.

Everything in Beatrix’s life was soft pink, gold-trimmed, and expensive.

Her bedroom on the Upper East Side looked like something stolen from a luxury Pinterest board: satin bedding, fluffy pillows, glowing vanity mirrors, designer shopping bags tossed carelessly beside the closet. Her tiny white cat, Melody, slept curled on top of silk blankets while her spoiled little French bulldog, Coco, followed her from room to room wearing sweaters that cost more than most people’s groceries.

Beatrix herself looked exactly like the kind of girl people underestimated.

Long blonde hair. Glossy lips. Tiny skirts. Platform heels clicking across marble floors. She drove a pink convertible her father bought her for her eighteenth birthday and somehow managed to make every outfit look effortlessly put together, even when she claimed she “just threw something on.”

People called her a bimbo or a whore constantly.

Sometimes behind her back.

Sometimes directly to her face.

Beatrix usually just smiled sweetly and asked, “Do you still want a ride or not?”

Her parents divorced when she was young, though unlike most kids childhood's had remained comfortable—private schools, vacations, expensive gifts arriving for no reason at all. She lived mostly with her father now, a wealthy businessman who loved her deeply and coped with guilt by giving her almost anything she asked for.

And honestly?

Beatrix liked pretty things.

She liked manicures and perfume and shopping and strawberry-flavored drinks. She liked mini skirts and tiny handbags and reality television and laying across her bed while online shopping at two in the morning. She likes nice things, she likes taking care of herself and looking nice

But spoiled did not mean cruel.

That was the thing people always got wrong.

Beatrix remembered birthdays. She tipped workers generously. She complimented strangers in bathroom mirrors. She felt awful and guilty animal shelter commercials and once spent three thousand dollars rescuing a dog she found online with “sad eyes.”

Underneath all the glitter and pink, she had an embarrassingly soft heart.

Sometimes she worried people only saw the surface of her.

Not that she let it bother her much.

One rainy afternoon, Beatrix sat cross-legged on her bed wearing a pale pink tank top and fuzzy socks while scrolling through her phone. Melody purred against her leg while Coco snored nearby beneath a cashmere blanket.

Her friend Carrie lounged beside her eating macarons.

“So,” Carrie said casually, “your dad still trying to convince you to go to college?”

Beatrix groaned dramatically.

“He literally sent me a brochure to Yale yesterday.”

“And?”

“I used it as a coaster.”

Carrie laughed loudly.

It wasn’t that Beatrix was stupid or hated the idea of collage.

She simply did not like the idea of spending four+ years pretending to care about things she didn’t. Every school tour made her feel trapped somehow, like everyone expected her to suddenly become serious and polished and ambitious in the acceptable way. She also felt like life was a better teacher then a collage with annoying girls and even more annoying guys.

But Beatrix didn’t know what she wanted yet.

And unlike most people around her, she’d never had to rush to survive.

So instead, she floated.

Shopping. Parties. Fashion events. Charities Lazy afternoons in cafés. Nights driving through Manhattan with music too loud and nowhere specific to go.

Still, sometimes late at night, when the city lights glowed outside her giant bedroom windows, Beatrix felt a strange restless ache she couldn’t explain.

Like her life was beautiful—

But waiting for something.

[caramelcarmen]

One Cosmopolitan Please

Hope you like this, i just started the show a few days ago, i LOVEEEEEEE it, i love Samantha and Charlotte. My moot on tumblr helped me come up with some of the ideas and characters, these characters are inspired by s#x and the city characters. Hope you like ittt. I did not proof readdddd @servingfairydust

Elizabeth Parker Maddison Parker

Elizabeth Claire Parker was ten years old and already felt older than most grown-ups.

She lived in a tiny apartment that always smelled like cigarette smoke and cheap perfume. Music blasted late at night while strangers laughed in the kitchen. Her mother was loud, careless, and always running after a new boyfriend. Sometimes she forgot to buy groceries. Sometimes she forgot school forms. Sometimes she forgot to come home at all.

Elizabeth seemed to noticed everything.

She noticed the ashtrays overflowing beside the sink. She noticed the empty bottles hidden under the couch. And most of all, she noticed Maddison.

Maddison had arrived when Elizabeth was only three years old. One rainy night, their mother stumbled through the front door carrying a baby wrapped in a pink blanket.

“Meet your sister,” she had slurred.

That was it.

No explanation. No father. No questions answered.

Elizabeth remembered staring at the baby’s giant dark brown eyes and thinking, *I’ll protect you forever.*

And she did.

By ten years old, Elizabeth packed Maddison’s lunches, brushed her hair before school, checked her homework, and tucked her into bed when their mother forgot. She hated the way their mom parented. Hated how men came and went like changing weather. Hated how Maddison sometimes waited by the window hoping their mom would actually show up for school events.

Elizabeth never knew her own father. Nobody talked about him. Whenever she asked, her mother either ignored her or snapped, “Does it matter?”

So Elizabeth stopped asking.

At school, everyone knew Elizabeth Claire Parker.

Teachers loved her because she always had the right answer. She sat perfectly straight in class, turned assignments in early, and corrected mistakes on the board before anyone else noticed them. She was stubborn too—completely unwilling to back down once she believed she was right. Some kids whispered that she acted like a tiny principal.

Elizabeth didn’t care.

She wore dark clothes almost every day: black hoodies, brown boots, gray sweaters. Even at ten, she preferred serious colors. Meanwhile, Maddison looked like a walking candy store in pink polka dots, glitter sneakers, and fluffy headbands.

Oddly enough, their mother’s laziness allowed one good thing.

“Wear whatever,” she’d always say.

So the girls became exactly who they wanted to be.

One sunny Thursday during recess, Elizabeth sat on the swings while Maddison played nearby with sidewalk chalk. Elizabeth kept one eye on her little sister while reading a science book balanced on her lap.

That’s when it happened.

A fifth-grade boy named Trevor marched past Maddison and kicked over her chalk drawings.

“Oops,” he sneered.

Maddison bent down quickly, trying not to cry.

Elizabeth’s stomach twisted.

Then Trevor shoved Maddison hard enough that she stumbled backward onto the blacktop.

Everything inside Elizabeth exploded.

She jumped off the swing so fast the chains rattled wildly behind her. Her boots pounded across the playground.

Nobody messed with Maddison.

Nobody.

Trevor smirked when he saw Elizabeth coming. “What are you gonna do about it, Parker?”

Elizabeth clenched her fists.

But before she could reach him—

THUD.

A girl slammed straight into Trevor’s shoulder so hard he nearly fell over.

“Leave her alone,” the girl snapped.

Trevor blinked in shock.

The girl stood tall with glossy black hair tied in giant ribbons. Her outfit looked like it belonged in one of those fancy storybooks—bright colors, patterned tights, sparkly shoes—but somehow it looked elegant instead of silly. She reminded Elizabeth of Fancy Nancy, except cooler.

Trevor scoffed. “Mind your business.”

“It became my business when you shoved a little kid,” the girl shot back.

Trevor muttered something under his breath and stormed away.

Elizabeth stared at the girl.

The girl crossed her arms confidently. “You were about to punch him, weren’t you?”

“…Maybe.”

“Good,” the girl said. “He deserved it.”

Maddison ran over and hugged Elizabeth tightly around the waist.

“You okay?” Elizabeth asked softly.

Maddison nodded.

The girl smiled at Maddison first. “I like your shoes.”

Maddison instantly brightened. “Thanks! They light up!”

The girl laughed. “Cool. I’m Lola Zhao.”

“Elizabeth Parker.”

“And I’m Maddison!” Maddison added proudly.

Lola looked at Elizabeth carefully. “You always look this serious?”

“Yes.”

“That’s kind of impressive for a ten-year-old.”

For the first time all week, Elizabeth almost smiled.

Almost.

From that day forward, the three girls became inseparable.

Lola was bold where Elizabeth was guarded. She talked nonstop, loved fashion, and somehow convinced teachers to let the girls eat lunch in classrooms during rainy days. Maddison adored both of them equally.

The three became their own tiny world.

After school, Lola helped Maddison with art projects while Elizabeth handled math homework. Sometimes they sat together at the park under the monkey bars, sharing chips and talking about what life would be like when they grew up.

“I’m gonna be famous,” Lola announced one afternoon dramatically.

“For what?” Elizabeth asked.

“Everything.”

Maddison giggled.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but secretly she liked listening to Lola dream out loud. Lola made life feel less heavy.

One evening, after Lola went home, Maddison whispered from the top bunk, “Lizzie?”

“Yeah?”

“You’ll always protect me, right?”

Elizabeth looked toward the living room where her mother was laughing loudly with another boyfriend.

Then she looked back at her sister.

“Always,” she promised.

And for the first time in a long while, Elizabeth realized something important.

Maybe family wasn’t just about the people you were born with.

Maybe sometimes, family was the people who chose to stand beside you on the playground when things got hard. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The hallway outside Apartment 14 smelled like rain and old cigarettes.

Elizabeth immediately noticed the front door was cracked open.

Her stomach tightened.

She grabbed Maddison’s hand before pushing the door wider. “Stay behind me.”

Maddison obeyed instantly.

The apartment was dim except for the television flickering blue light across the walls. Empty takeout boxes sat on the counter. Music played softly somewhere in the background.

“Mom?” Elizabeth called.

No answer.

Elizabeth walked farther inside, every muscle tense.

Then she saw her.

Their mother sat slumped sideways on the couch wearing yesterday’s glittery makeup, now smeared dark beneath her eyes. One hand held a cigarette between chipped nails while the other loosely gripped a bottle. Smoke curled lazily toward the ceiling fan.

She looked exhausted.

Not angry. Not loud.

Just… tired.

Maddison carefully stepped forward holding a folded piece of paper. “Mommy?”

Their mother blinked slowly. “Hey, baby girl.”

“I made something at school.”

She handed over the artwork proudly. It was a drawing of the three of them standing under a giant pink sun. Elizabeth had been drawn in black clothes, of course.

Their mother stared at it for a moment.

Then she gave a small smile. “That looks nice.”

Maddison beamed like she’d just won a trophy. “Really?”

“Yeah,” their mother murmured softly. “Really.”

Maddison hugged the paper to her chest happily and wandered toward the bedroom to put away her backpack.

Elizabeth started heading toward her own room too. She wanted homework. Quiet. Distance.

“Lizzie.”

Elizabeth stopped.

Her mother rarely used that nickname anymore.

“What?” Elizabeth asked carefully.

The woman took another sip from the bottle before speaking. “You ever wonder why I ended up like this?”

Elizabeth didn’t answer.

Honestly, yes. Constantly.

Their mother laughed weakly. “Course you do. You got that judging face.”

“I wasn’t judging.”

“You always are.”

Elizabeth crossed her arms but stayed silent.

For a while, only the television made noise.

Then, unexpectedly, her mother began talking.

“I grew up in this tiny little town nobody’s heard of,” she said quietly. “One stoplight. One grocery store. Everybody knowing everybody’s business.”

Elizabeth leaned against the hallway wall despite herself.

“My dad was mean.” Her mother stared at the cigarette smoke twisting upward. “Not strict. Mean. Yelling all the time. Breaking things. Telling me I’d never become anything.”

Elizabeth had never heard her talk about her childhood before.

Not once.

“I used to sit in my room and watch old movies on this tiny TV,” her mother continued. “Black-and-white ones. I wanted to be one of those actresses so bad. Thought I’d leave town and become famous.”

For a second, Elizabeth could almost picture it: her mother younger, hopeful, full of plans.

“I had ideas,” she whispered. “I had heart.”

The room grew quieter.

Then her mother gave a bitter little laugh.

“And then I met a boy.”

Elizabeth felt her chest tighten.

Her father.

The ghost nobody spoke about.

“He was charming,” her mother said. “Real charming. Played guitar. Talked like he knew everything. Made me feel special.”

Elizabeth listened carefully, trying to imagine a face.

“He promised we’d move to California together someday. Said we’d both make it big.” Her mother shook her head slowly. “I believed every word.”

“What happened?” Elizabeth asked before she could stop herself.

Her mother looked at her for a long moment.

“You happened.”

The words hit harder than Elizabeth expected.

But her mother quickly sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Not in a bad way,” she muttered. “At least… not at first.”

Elizabeth’s jaw tightened anyway.

“When I got pregnant, he left,” her mother continued. “Didn’t even say goodbye properly. One day he was there, next day he wasn’t.” She laughed humorlessly. “Guess movie-star dreams don’t survive diapers and bills.”

Elizabeth swallowed hard.

“So you just gave up?” she asked quietly.

The question came out sharper than she intended.

Her mother looked wounded for a split second.

Then angry.

“You think life’s easy?” she snapped.

“I think you stopped trying.”

Silence crashed between them.

From the bedroom, Maddison hummed softly to herself, completely unaware.

Their mother stared at Elizabeth with tired eyes. “You sound just like my father sometimes.”

Elizabeth flinched.

“I’m not mean,” she said immediately.

“No,” her mother admitted softly. “You’re not.”

She crushed the cigarette into the ashtray.

“You’re stronger than I ever was.”

Elizabeth didn’t know what to say to that.

For the first time in years, she looked at her mother and saw more than the drinking and the smoking and the random boyfriends.

She saw someone who had once been a little girl too.

A girl with dreams.

A girl who got hurt somewhere along the way.

But even understanding that didn’t erase the anger sitting heavy inside Elizabeth’s chest.

Because no matter what happened in the past—

Maddison still needed someone to protect her now. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Elizabeth Claire Parker had been excited about the field trip for two whole months.

The permission slip had stayed perfectly folded inside her backpack until the very second it needed signing. She had reminded her mother three separate times. She had even packed her lunch the night before so nothing could go wrong.

The science museum.

Planetarium exhibits.

A real fossil collection.

Elizabeth had memorized the schedule down to the minute.

That morning, she wore her favorite charcoal-gray sweater and black jeans. Maddison wore pink leggings with tiny hearts stitched onto the knees.

“You look pretty,” Maddison told her while brushing crumbs off the table.

“I look normal.”

“You look birthday-ish.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but secretly, she appreciated it.

eleven years old today.

Double digits.

She grabbed her backpack just as their mother stumbled into the kitchen, digging through her purse while talking on the phone.

“Mom,” Elizabeth said carefully, “the bus leaves in twenty minutes.”

Their mother waved her off distractedly.

“The field trip,” Elizabeth reminded. “You signed the form already.”

Her mother paused.

Slowly, she looked up.

Then frowned.

“Oh. Right.”

Elizabeth’s stomach tightened immediately.

“You’re not going.”

The words hit like ice water.

“What?”

“I need you here after school,” her mother muttered while searching for her lighter. “I’m busy tonight.”

Elizabeth blinked in disbelief. “But you already signed it.”

“Plans changed.”

“The buses are leaving today!”

Their mother finally lit her cigarette and exhaled smoke toward the ceiling. “Not my problem.”

Elizabeth stared at her.

Surely this was a joke.

“Mom,” she whispered, “today’s my birthday.”

“I said no.”

Then, without another word, their mother grabbed her purse and left the apartment.

The door slammed.

Silence swallowed everything.

Elizabeth stood frozen in the kitchen.

The carefully packed lunch suddenly felt stupid. The sweater felt stupid. The permission slip felt stupid.

Something inside her cracked.

She dropped her backpack onto the floor.

Then she started crying.

Not quiet tears.

Real sobs.

The kind that hurt your chest.

“It’s not fair!” she yelled at the empty apartment.

Maddison stayed hidden near the hallway corner, silent.

Elizabeth paced furiously across the room, tears pouring down her face.

“I do EVERYTHING!”

Her voice echoed against the apartment walls.

“I get myself ready! I get Maddison ready! I remind her about bills and school and appointments and EVERYTHING!”

She wiped angrily at her face.

“I’m ten!” she screamed. “I’m TEN!”

The words came faster now, spilling out like they had been trapped for years.

“She gets to do whatever she wants while.....I....I have to act like the grown-up all the time!”

Her breathing shook.

“I hate this! I hate it!”

She looked toward the ceiling like the universe itself had betrayed her. (It had in her eyes)

“It’s not FAIR!”

The apartment stayed quiet.

Elizabeth cried harder.

Then—

A small noise came from the kitchen.

She ignored it at first, thinking maybe the refrigerator had made a sound.

But then she heard tiny footsteps.

Elizabeth turned slowly.

Maddison stood there carefully holding a giant cupcake on a paper plate.

Pink frosting.

Rainbow sprinkles.

And one bent birthday candle sitting in the middle.

Unlit.

Because Maddison wasn’t allowed to use matches.

Her little hands trembled trying not to drop it.

“I got it from breakfast at school yesterday,” Maddison said softly. “I saved it.”

Elizabeth’s chest hurt all over again—but differently this time.

Maddison walked closer and held out the cupcake.

“I know it’s not a real birthday cake,” she whispered. “But… happy birthday, Lizzie.”

Elizabeth covered her mouth immediately.

Fresh tears slid down her cheeks.

Maddison looked nervous. “Do you like it?”

Without answering, Elizabeth dropped to her knees and pulled her sister into a fierce hug, careful not to squish the cupcake.

Maddison hugged her back tightly.

“You remembered,” Elizabeth whispered shakily.

“Of course I remembered.”

Elizabeth laughed weakly through tears.

The candle leaned sideways the entire time they sat together on the kitchen floor sharing the cupcake with plastic spoons.

The frosting was too sweet.

The cake was dry.

But somehow, it still felt like the best birthday Elizabeth had ever had. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

By the time Elizabeth Claire Parker turned fifteen, people at school had stopped calling her “teacher’s pet.”

Now they called her intimidating.

She had grown taller, sharper somehow, with dark eyes that always looked like they were analyzing everything around her. She still wore black, gray, and brown almost every day—oversized jackets, heavy boots, silver rings she bought at thrift stores.

And she was still stubborn.

Maybe worse now.

Teachers respected her because she argued like an adult. Students avoided debating her because she somehow always won. She joined debate club in eighth grade and made a senior cry during an argument about school funding.

Elizabeth did not apologize.

At home, things hadn’t changed much.

Their mother still drifted in and out of responsibility like a ghost. Some months were better than others. Some boyfriends stayed too long. Some left holes in the apartment walls.

Elizabeth still handled most things.

But now Maddison was older too.

At twelve years old, Maddison had grown into herself beautifully. She still loved bright colors and soft pink sweaters, but now she mixed them with chunky jewelry and glitter eyeliner Lola taught her how to apply.

Unlike Elizabeth, Maddison smiled easily.

People trusted her instantly.

Even when she was little, she had this strange warmth about her that made others feel safe.

Lola once called it “main character energy.”

Lola Zhao, now fourteen, remained impossible to ignore.

She had transformed into the exact kind of person everyone turned to look at in hallways. Her outfits were legendary at school—tailored blazers over patterned skirts, dramatic sleeves, perfect hair ribbons, boots nobody else could pull off.

She designed half her clothes herself now.

“You cannot pair neon green with plaid,” she informed people regularly. “It’s emotionally upsetting.”

Lola wanted fashion more than anything.

Not just clothes.

Fashion.

Runways. Design houses. Magazines. Paris. New York.

She carried sketchbooks everywhere filled with designs and notes and ideas. Sometimes she dragged Elizabeth and Maddison to fabric stores just to “feel inspired.”

Elizabeth complained every single time.

She still went every single time.

The three girls remained inseparable.

Friday nights were usually spent crammed into Elizabeth and Maddison’s bedroom because their mother’s newest boyfriend hated “all the giggling.”

So the girls stayed upstairs, eating snacks and talking for hours beneath glow-in-the-dark stars Maddison never took off the ceiling.

One rainy evening, the three sat cross-legged on the floor while Lola painted Maddison’s nails pale lavender.

Elizabeth sat nearby highlighting notes from a law textbook she borrowed from the library.

Lola glanced over dramatically. “You are literally fifteen. Why are you reading legal vocabulary for fun?”

Elizabeth didn’t look up. “Because I like understanding how systems work.”

“You like correcting people.”

“That too.”

Maddison giggled.

Lola shook her head. “You are the most Capricorn person alive.”

Elizabeth smirked faintly. “I know.”

Maddison admired her wet nails carefully. “Lizzie’s gonna become one of those scary lawyers in high heels.”

“Boots,” Elizabeth corrected immediately.

“Right. Scary lawyer boots.”

Lola pointed her nail polish brush at Elizabeth. “Honestly? You’d win every case.”

“I’m going to try.”

There was something fierce in Elizabeth’s voice when she said it.

Not just ambition.

Need.

Because deep down, Elizabeth remembered every bill collector call. Every broken promise. Every moment adults failed her.

She wanted power.

Not for attention.

For protection.

“What about you?” Elizabeth asked Lola.

Lola gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? I am going to revolutionize fashion.”

“You already say that every day.”

“And one day you’ll realize I was correct every day.”

Maddison smiled. “I believe you.”

Lola softened instantly. “Thank you, Maddie.”

Then both girls turned toward Maddison.

“What about you?” Elizabeth asked. “What do you want to be?”

Maddison thought carefully.

Rain tapped softly against the windows.

Finally she shrugged.

“I want to be important.”

Elizabeth frowned slightly. “Important how?”

“I don’t know yet.” Maddison tucked her knees to her chest. “I just want people to feel better because I exist.”

The room grew quiet.

Lola stopped painting.

Elizabeth looked at her little sister differently for a moment.

Maddison continued softly, “Like… I don’t want people to feel lonely around me.”

Elizabeth suddenly felt something painful rise in her chest.

Because Maddison had spent her whole life doing exactly that for her.

Lola smiled first.

“That,” she declared, “is the prettiest answer ever.”

Maddison laughed shyly.

Elizabeth reached over and squeezed her sister’s hand once.

Not dramatic.

Not emotional.

Just enough.

But Maddison understood it anyway. __________________7 years later__________________________________

The acceptance letter from Brown University arrived on a gray Thursday afternoon.

Elizabeth stared at the screen for nearly a full minute after opening the email.

Then she read it again.

And again.

**Congratulations.**

She got in.

Brown University.

One of the best schools in the country.

For a moment, years of pressure disappeared. Every late night studying while music blasted downstairs. Every debate competition. Every scholarship application. Every teacher who told her she was extraordinary.

It had worked.

She had done it.

Lola screamed louder than anyone when Elizabeth told them.

“I KNEW IT!” Lola yelled, nearly knocking over a lamp while hugging her. “You damn genius!”

Maddison cried instantly.

Not dramatic crying.

Quiet crying.

The kind that made Elizabeth’s stomach hurt.

Because Maddison knew what this meant before anyone said it out loud.

Providence was far away.

Far from California. Far from home. Far from her.

The summer before college passed too quickly.

Lola still had on more year left of into an arts and fashion program in New York and spent most days talking excitedly about fabrics, internships, and city apartments smaller than closets.

Meanwhile Maddison, now fourteen, tried very hard to act excited for Elizabeth.

Too hard.

Elizabeth noticed every fake smile.

Every extra-long hug.

Every moment Maddison lingered in her bedroom doorway at night.

And Elizabeth noticed their mother spiraling again.

More drinking.

More disappearing.

More excuses.

One night, just two weeks before move-in day, Elizabeth found unpaid electricity bills shoved beneath pizza boxes on the counter.

Something cold settled in her chest.

That night she sat on the edge of Maddison’s bed while Maddison braided friendship bracelets absentmindedly.

“I don’t want to leave you here,” Elizabeth admitted quietly.

Maddison kept braiding.

“You earned this,” she said softly.

“That’s not the point.”

“It kind of is.”

Elizabeth rubbed her face tiredly. “Mom barely remembers parent-teacher conferences, Maddie.”

“I’m not little anymore.”

“You shouldn’t have to be grown-up either.”

That finally made Maddison look up.

For a long moment, neither sister spoke.

Then Maddison whispered, “You stayed for me your whole life.”

Elizabeth felt tears sting immediately.

“You’re my sister.”

“I know.” Maddison smiled sadly. “But Lizzie… you deserve to have your own thing.”

That sentence broke something open inside her.

Because Elizabeth had spent so many years surviving that she forgot people could want things for her too.

Move-in day arrived too fast.

The campus at Brown University buzzed with students carrying boxes and nervous parents taking photos.

Elizabeth stood beside her suitcase feeling strangely numb.

She should have been excited.

This was everything she wanted.

Law school someday. Stability. Success. Escape.

But all she could think about was Maddison standing back home in that apartment.

Alone.

Well—not alone.

But alone in all the ways that mattered.

Their mother hadn’t even come to campus. She claimed she was “too tired” for the drive.

So it was just the sisters.

And Lola, who had ridden with them while loudly criticizing Rhode Island traffic.

“You better become some insanely powerful lawyer,” Lola said while helping unpack books. “I expect good courtroom speeches.”

Elizabeth managed a weak laugh.

But when it came time to say goodbye, the laughter disappeared.

Maddison hugged her first.

Tightly.

Too tightly.

Elizabeth held on just as hard.

“You can call me anytime,” Elizabeth whispered immediately. “Anytime. I don’t care what time it is.”

“I know.”

“If Mom forgets something, text me.”

“Okay.”

“If anyone makes you uncomfortable—”

“Lizzie.”

Elizabeth stopped talking.

Maddison’s eyes were already watery.

“You don’t have to protect me every second anymore.”

That only made Elizabeth cry harder.

Real sobbing.

The kind she hadn’t done since she was ten years old with that birthday cupcake.

“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth choked out. “I’m sorry I’m leaving.”

“You’re not leaving me,” Maddison whispered back. “You’re becoming who you’re supposed to be.”

Elizabeth buried her face against her sister’s shoulder.

For years, Maddison had been the reason she kept going.

Now walking away from her felt impossible.

Lola quietly stepped forward and wrapped both of them into a hug.

“We are all getting out,” Lola said softly. “Okay? This isn’t the end of us.”

Eventually, the goodbye had to happen.

Maddison walked backward toward the parking lot, still waving.

Elizabeth stood outside her dorm watching until the car disappeared completely.

Then the campus suddenly felt enormous.

Too quiet.

Too unfamiliar.

Elizabeth walked into her dorm room, shut the door softly behind her—

And finally let herself fall apart. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

College was harder than Elizabeth Claire Parker expected.

Not academically.

Academically, she was excellent.

At Brown University, Elizabeth became known as the girl who always sat in the front row with highlighted notes and impossible arguments during class discussions. Professors loved her. Other students respected her, even when they found her intimidating.

She made a few friends too.

There was Naomi from her political science seminar who constantly stole Elizabeth’s fries. Jordan from debate club who argued with her for fun. Priya from her dorm floor who dragged Elizabeth to coffee shops whenever she looked too stressed.

But despite all of that—

Elizabeth was exhausted.

Completely, deeply, painfully burnt out.

For years, survival had fueled her.

Get good grades. Protect Maddison. Escape home. Keep going.

Now she had escaped, but her body and mind never learned how to rest.

So she kept pushing harder.

More classes. More studying. Less sleep.

Coffee became meals.

Stress became normal.

Some nights she sat in the library staring at pages without understanding a single word.

And every week, letters from Maddison arrived in the mail.

Real handwritten letters.

Decorated with tiny doodles and pink ink.

Elizabeth kept every single one in a box beneath her dorm bed.

One letter read:

> Dear Lizzie, > Mom forgot laundry in the washer for three days and now the apartment smells weird. Lola says hello and also says your outfits have probably gotten worse somehow. I miss you a lot. Please remember to eat vegetables occasionally. > > Love, Maddie.

Elizabeth reread them whenever things felt unbearable.

But by mid-October, everything finally caught up to her.

It started after midterms.

One terrible week became another.

Then another.

Three papers due. Endless reading. Debate meetings. Barely sleeping.

So when some classmates invited her to a party Friday night, Elizabeth went.

She normally hated parties.

Too loud. Too crowded. Too messy.

But this time she wanted her brain to stop hurting for one night.

At first, she only drank one cup.

Then another.

Then another.

Because for the first time in months, her thoughts slowed down enough for her to breathe.

And somehow, sometime around 2 a.m., Elizabeth forgot to set an alarm.

The next morning, sunlight poured through her dorm window.

Elizabeth groaned and reached for her phone.

11:47 AM.

Her stomach dropped.

The test.

The huge constitutional law test started at nine.

“No,” she whispered.

Her hands started shaking immediately.

“No no no no—”

She scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over textbooks. Her head pounded violently as panic crashed over her all at once.

She had never missed a test in her life.

Not once.

Elizabeth stared at the clock like maybe reality would change if she looked hard enough.

Then she started crying.

Hard.

She slid down against the side of her bed, breathing unevenly while tears poured down her face.

Years of pressure exploded at once.

She grabbed her phone and called Lola instinctively.

Lola answered immediately.

“Well, if it isn’t Rhode Island’s most emotionally constipated law student—”

“I missed my test,” Elizabeth choked out.

Silence.

Then Lola’s voice softened instantly. “Oh, Liz.”

Elizabeth sobbed harder.

“I messed everything up.”

“You did not.”

“I got drunk like an idiot and now I ruined everything—”

“You missed one test.”

“It was important!”

“So are you.”

Elizabeth cried into her sleeve, unable to stop.

A second voice suddenly joined the call.

“Lizzie?”

Maddison.

Elizabeth covered her face immediately. “Oh my God, Maddie, I’m sorry—”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I’m supposed to be better than this.”

There was a pause.

Then Maddison said quietly, “Says who?”

Elizabeth couldn’t answer.

Because honestly?

She didn’t know anymore.

For so long she believed being perfect was the only way to survive.

Lola spoke next, firm and dramatic as ever.

“Okay. Here is what’s going to happen.”

Elizabeth sniffed miserably.

“Fall break is in, like, two weeks,” Lola continued. “You are coming home.”

“I have too much work.”

“Incorrect.”

“I do.”

“Nope. You are going to let us emotionally resurrect you.”

Despite herself, Elizabeth let out a weak laugh through tears.

Lola immediately continued. “We are getting our nails done. Maddison wants matching sweaters. I’m forcing both of you to let me fix your hair.”

“My hair is fine,” Elizabeth muttered automatically.

“It looks like stress and unresolved trauma.”

Maddison burst out laughing.

Even Elizabeth smiled a little at that.

“And,” Lola continued proudly, “we are eating greasy food and watching terrible movies.”

“You always pick terrible movies,” Elizabeth whispered.

“They are perfectly fine the way they are.”

Maddison’s voice softened again. “Lizzie… you don’ have to do everything yourself, you know”

That sentence hit harder than anything else.

Elizabeth sat there on the dorm floor crying quietly while listening to the two people who loved her most argue about nail polish colors.

And for the first time in weeks—

She finally felt less alone.

[servingfairydust]

[tyger-land]

sʜᴇʟʟᴇʏ ᴅᴜᴠᴀʟʟ 1971

[kosmogrl]

[rapidlydecayingcorpse]

i feel like people aren't getting how dire ai is. we are running out of drinkable water. our brains aren't engaging as much with what we see and hear. people near data centers don't get clean water and experience electricity blackouts. it's being used to make pornography of underaged people and women. it often just lies. it affirms everything. it lies. it has made people kill themselves. it lies for gods sake. and people act as if im dramatic for being staunchly against it. 'now i KNOOW you hate ai and whatever, but look at this cute video' this isn't me being a new age puritan about internet videos, this is about the fucking earth and our future living on this planet. people are suffering now, people will suffer more, and my friends and parents will roll their eyes and think im annoying for despising ai so explicitly. we need to wake up because we cannot live like this

[servingfairydust]

I made this while on break and I’m obsessed

[xh444]

Babygirl let me make you feel appreciated

[servingfairydust]

My mom’s best friend and her are literally twin flames or sum. I think that bc my mom told me that her best friend and my mom got pregnant at the same time and both had us a month apart from each other. My mom’s birthday is the 28 of November (sag queen) and her bestie is a virgo and born in September and so is the crazy part. I was born on the September 20th and her daughter is also born on November 20th (and her bestie even named her daughter after my mom) If she didn’t live in Las Vegas we’d be best friends just like her and my mom are. I’ve sadly never met her and my mom hasn’t seen her bestie in a really long time but she was telling me how much she missed her and that they’re still friends on facebook. I had to share that with y’all bc I think it’s so cool that me and her are both born on the 20th AND she has the same sign as my mom and I have the same sign as hers. My mom and her bestie basically made copy versions of their bestie which I think is totally awesome

[servingfairydust]

[sexyinthestacks]

[anglaised]

new tina snow this summer i LOVE being alive