oh god so remember when twilight was a Thing? you know how stephanie meyer was rewriting twilight from edward’s pov and the first couple chapters got leaked? well, i read the shit out of that and I found fanfic through my determination to find the rest of it. One thing that really sticks out to me about those early days - a small detail that has never left me - is when I was reading a fic about breaking dawn or something idk and there was the ~lemon~ as it was called back then and bella described edward orgasming inside of her as like feeling a poof of warm air and i’ve literally never gotten over that ever and it haunts me to this day I don’t even know why that’s had such a lasting effect but like I can’t deal with it
Stephanie Brown is five years old, and her father is talking to his friends, and she listens to them. She doesn’t understand what they say, but she doesn’t like it.
Stephanie Brown is six years old, and she drapes a blanket over her shoulders and dances around the hall, chanting that she’s Superman.
Stephanie Brown is seven years old, and she’s locked in her closet, hyperventilating and nobody can hear her.
Stephanie Brown is eight years old, and she’s afraid of closets, and her father, and she’s not sure what’s wrong with her mother.
Stephanie Brown is nine years old, and she knows she’s alone. Gymnastics are her new best friend.
Stephanie Brown is ten years old, and her father’s locked away, and her mother keeps taking medicine, but she’s not sure what it’s for. She keeps thinking about Superman, and her father’s stupid orange costume.
Stephanie Brown is eleven years old, and she decides to make her own destiny, away from her dad, although she’s not sure how.
Stephanie Brown is twelve years old, and she can’t really sew and her grades are going down and she misses her mom so much.
Stephanie Brown is thirteen years old, and she’s kinda figured out the sewing thing, and she looks out the window and sees the Batsymbol, glowing in the sky, and she knows what she has to do.
Stephanie Brown is fourteen years old, and she hits Robin in the face with a brick, and wears a purple costume that makes her feel powerful, and Batman tells her to go home.
Stephanie Brown is fifteen years old, and Robin is her best friend, and she’s gonna have a baby, and Batman won’t stop telling her to quit, to put Spoiler away, but she knows she never will.
Stephanie Brown is sixteen years old, and she’s not Spoiler anymore, but only because she’s traded it for Robin, and she pushes and pushes and tries so so hard to prove herself, and–Batman still tells her to go home.
Stephanie Brown is seventeen years old, and she’s dead, except not really, but she sort of feels like it.
Stephanie Brown is eighteen years old, and death will not keep her down, and she doesn’t care what Batman says, and she pushes and pulls and stumbles and never, never gives up, and Cass lets her be Batgirl, and Steph feels less alone.
Stephanie Brown is nineteen years old, and she crawls into Wayne Manor through the window, and there’s a stiff movement of awkwardness, and she ignores it. After a while, so do the others.
Stephanie Brown is twenty years old, and she doesn’t know what she wants to do with the entire rest of her life, and she doesn’t really care, as long as it’s not boring.
Stephanie Brown is twenty one years old, and she was born into a niche she didn’t belong in, so she carved herself into a new one, and when she sees Bruce Wayne at her college graduation, smiling at her, she thinks it might have been worth it.
Miss someone until they come back, or until you come back, until their absence in your life becomes something to be avoided at all costs. Miss them until you don’t have to anymore, until you’re reunited in your favorite booth in your favorite restaurant ordering your favorite meal, miss them until it feels like you never left. Or miss them until you can’t anymore, until the things you miss are identified and cataloged as things and not a person, until you figure out that easy company and long talks and unblinking, all-knowing eye contact will find you again the way they found you the first time. Miss someone until you don’t.
Me: The Falsettos screening was amazing and beautiful and completely destroyed me and it’s almost worse seeing it in a movie theater because there are so many close-ups of the actors crying and you just get all of the heartbreak so it’s even tougher for you to watch and now that I know Andrew had to do that show eight times a week while dealing with a break-up the whole things is even sadder and I don’t know how he did it but HE FREAKING DID and I just have so many feelings. Oh my God. When am I gonna get over this? When am I gonna get over this? WHEN AM I GONNA GET OVER THIS?