#i used to have a friend in high school who wore a hijab | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astranva · 4 years

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Power BFFs.

// masterlist //

Word Count: 2.1k

Category: Fluff best friend!harry, best friend!reader

Warning: None!

Summary: In which Harry’s best friend is a hijabi blogger and they’re everyone’s bffs’ goals.

Bonus: Instagram posts!

For as long as you lived, you have always been into fashion. You were the kid who chose to wear pink with orange long before Taylor Swift’s dress was the new cool, always one whom family went to for advice when it came to putting outfits together.

Hell, if someone could pay you for the times your mom was on the phone with your aunt or a friend and you heard her tell them “Y/N can help you with putting the clothes together! She studies fashion. Yeah, not a doctor but she’s doing a good job” you would be a billionaire.

You remember how shocked your parents were when you told them that you wanted to switch majors. How could they not when you told them that you decided to leave med school for fashion?

But you wouldn’t have taken the step if it weren’t for your longtime best friend – Harry.

You and Harry have been best friends for as long as you could remember, having had been your friend long before you even wore the hijab and you remember when you were 16 after deciding to wear it, having sat him down one day and explained to him what it meant.

He has always been supportive of you, and you, of him. You lost count of how many times you had helped him with his wardrobe choices, and every time he was more thankful that he had someone who was daring with fashion and saw it as he did; a form of expression.

You had a good relationship with his fans long before you decided to enter the fashion blogging world, and maybe fans liked you more because of how carefree and natural you were and how innocent and supportive your friendship with Harry looked. Hell, he talked about you whenever he mentioned his family and if that said anything, it would be that he saw you a Styles, a sister.

It was always fun whenever you styled Harry for an appearance, only so the both of you could sit back and watch their tweets and comments, always freaking out and gushing over how good he looked because of your fashion choices, adding memes along the way.

“How does that look?” You asked him, holding a dress on a hanger of you, looking down at the vibrant green color.

Harry, with 3 shopping bags in his hands and his eyeglasses on, shifted his weight on one leg before bringing his finger to his chin and he looked at the dress. “Think it makes your skin look a little dull, not pop.”

“You think so?” You mumbled as you moved to a mirror, nodding, “You’re right. God, I hate green.”

He chuckled, “No you don’t.”

“Olive green is nice, when we’re talking about trousers and skirts but tops and dresses? No, thanks. Looks good on you though, you lucky bastard.”

“Watch out, you’re looking a little green now, love.” Harry teased, a dimpled smile on his face.

“Oh, shut up, I’m not jealous of you.” You scoffed jokingly, fixing your headscarf to avoid looking at him, “Maybe a little.” You added, laughing quietly as Harry laughed.

“I think they have a beige one, hold on.” Harry’s eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he looked around before walking towards a rack, searching through the colors of dresses for the one color he knew his best friend loved. “Ha!” Harry smiled in triumph as he reached the color, getting your size before holding it out for you.

You sighed in relief, “You are an angel. Sometimes.”

Harry rolled his eyes at you with a chuckle, handing you the dress before you both agreed to pay and head somewhere to have dessert for a treat.

You smiled at the cashier, watching as her eyes widened as she looked from Harry to you. “How are you?” You asked politely.

“Oh my God. Y-You’re-“ She looked at you before looking at Harry who smiled at her, too, “And you’re-“

“And you’re Sasha. Hi, Sasha.” You giggled, reading her name from her tag, “You know this goof?” You joked, pointing at Harry, “Was following me everywhere here,” you cupped a hand around your mouth, though still speaking at a tone louder than a whisper, “Think he’s a bit of a creep.”

“Hey!” Harry whined but laughed, “Don’t listen to her, love. She’s only doing that because I look better in green.”

It wasn’t unusual for you and Harry to tease each other, and it wasn’t new either that you did it in front of people. Perhaps it’s why people enjoyed being around the both of you together.

“You’re both adorable,” the girl laughed, finally calming from her moment, “I’m a huge fan of the both of you. And Y/N, congratulations on your new collaboration with Tommy Hilfiger. I think it’s amazing that you’re helping in representing more people in the industry.”

Your mischievous expression changed to a softer one, your hand going to your heart as your eyes twinkled.

“Right? Bloody talented that one is.” Harry smiled proudly as he glanced down at you, “Making history as she goes.”

“Aw, stop it, you two. I’m going to cry.” You cooed, “Thank you, Sasha. This means the world to me. Think this made my entire week.”

“It’s no problem,” she beamed, “I wouldn’t let you pay if I owned the store but…” she frowned.

“Hey, no. It’s your right. We all have bills to pay and as much as it would be nice, favors don’t really pay the rent.” You smiled with a shrug, handing her the money.

“Okay, true.” Sasha agreed, packing your dress before handing you the bag. “It was amazing meeting the both of you.”

“You think it’s okay if we get a picture together?” You asked before looking at Harry, “Can you take a picture of us?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Oh my God,” Sasha fanned herself before letting out a deep breath, shakily handing Harry her phone, “This is the best day I have ever lived in since I started working here.”

You giggled at that, watching her move from behind the cashier before she reached you. The both of you stood beside each other, you wrapping both arms around her as you smiled, her beaming as Harry took the picture – he took 3, just in case the girl didn’t like one of them – before you reached your hand out.

“Here, let me take your picture.” You said, taking the phone from Harry before exchanging places so you can snap a picture of him and the girl together.

As if to tease you, Harry made the same pose as yours, causing you to roll your eyes before you jokingly told him to “be original” to which he wrapped one arm around Sasha while the other was close to his face as he threw a peace sign – a classic Harry pose.

After hugging Sasha goodbye, you and Harry were on your way to his car to go somewhere else to have dessert and maybe spill the latest tea like you always did.

“I’m not so sure about working with them,” You said after taking a sip from your smoothie, resting your chin on your hand as you talked about a brand that had reached you for a collab, “Think they want it so they can look cool, you know? They don’t really care about the message or the representation of hijabi women and I just don’t want to get treated like the next cool trend and hey! Bonus for having a rockstar best friend. It’s ridiculous.”

Harry’s arms were crossed on the table, face showing concentration as he listened intently and nodded in understatement. “I get it. Sorry about that, love,” he sighed, “Wish I can do something about it. Feel helpless when I can’t seem to find any solution to offer.”

“Harry,” you rolled your eyes, “You’ve done enough for people. Besides, you’re growing and learning. This is the best solution.”

“Yeah?” He asked reluctantly, “Just sucks whenever I find the shit they write to you online. Don’t know how you do it.”

“What? Getting told that I’m oppressed even though it was my choice and the racist comments?” You chuckled a little, “Got bothered by it enough already. Just sick of justifying my choices. It’s like,” you thought before your eyebrows went up before pointing at him, “It’s like people with you and how you dress. The mean comments about your choices and the head-scratching comments about why you wear nail polish.”

“Took me long enough to feel comfortable in my skin.” Harry admitted, sighing with a shake of his head, “Wish people would just let people be.”

You shrugged, “Mean people are everywhere, it’s mostly about not letting yourself be one now. I actually feel like we’re at a time when people are unlearning most shit they blindly followed by older generations, the racism, the sexism, the double standards. This is generation is just,” you smiled, “It’s phenomenal, don’t you think?”

Harry joined in, giving you a smile and a nod, “It is. I’m where I am because of all these young people. Music legends are legends and are basically worshipped because of all the young women of their days. Sometimes I can’t even wrap my head around how societies belittle these people so much.”

“Right? They care more about shaping them than helping them unleash all this potential. It’s why they’re so angry sometimes, but so driven. Like, they had enough of silence and are now taking matters in their own hands.” You said, “But to be honest, it’s can be kind of sad sometimes.”

“How so?” Harry asked, sipping his smoothie.

“Like now you have people as young as 13 doing what world leaders should be doing. Really young people trying to teach older people why sexism is wrong and how they can help the Black Lives Matter movement and why they should. They shouldn’t be defending rights and protesting and dying, they should be worrying about their moms not cutting the crust off of their toasts or maybe some high school crushes. But it has to be done, you know? And if world leaders are staying silent, somebody needs to change that even if they’re only 13 for the love of God.”

That was the thing about yours and Harry’s friendship. While you both bickered like children all the time, you also always had heart-to-heart conversations that you couldn’t have with anyone and everyone. It was always comforting.

There were times when you didn’t agree with each other but it was never embarrassing or immature, you’d both state your point of views and find common grounds. It was never about winning an argument because you never could call it an “argument”, just a talk.

“How’s the tour rescheduling going?” You asked, the both of you drifting to another conversation.

harrystyles: Proud of you. Always.

fan0 CRYING

fan1 power bffs don’t @ me

fan2 are they dating? pls say yes

↳ fan3 when will people stop ruining friendships with shit like that?

yourinstagram are u sick?

↳ fan4 me when my family is nice to me

↳ fan5 me when my friends invite me to places

↳ harrystyles …

yourinstagram you know it all, H. you’re the best best friend anyone could ever wish for. cool photographer too. ❤❤❤

↳ fan7 HE TOOK THAT PICTURE HE’S SO TALENTED

↳ fan8 Hélène Pambrun who? We only know ✨Harry Styles✨

↳ yourinstagram don’t do my girl Hélène dirty like that

annetwist Looking beautiful! 😘

↳ fan8 I love this friendship sm

↳ yourinstagram says you! miss you loads xx

yourinstagram: harry out here looking like mr. pringles on a sour cream & onion can and i love it

fan0 HAHAH DEAD

fan1 ADHQWJDIEFIGHEFH HONTENT

fan2 y/n taking the piss at harry is my favorite thing

fan3 10 years of y/n giving us the hontent we need and deserve

↳ yourinstagram happy to provide

user aren’t muslims not allowed to drink wine?? why is harry holding one and why are YOU taking a picture of it? Lol

↳ fan4 leave her alone

↳ fan5 you know she’s free to do anything she wants, right?

↳ yourinstagram this is the amazing chef Massimo Bottura’s dark cherry balsamic vinegar but go off

↳ fan6 ENDED

fan7 This friendship makes me sleep better at night

harrystyles Is this because I look good in green?

↳ fan8 AJDGFKJWOI SHOW OFF

↳ fan9 I love them so much

↳ yourinstagram i dislike you sometimes

↳ fan10 ^ me because harry won’t release studio versions of medicine and anna

↳ harrystyles Love you, too.

yourinstagram: silky

fan0 LOOKS LIKE HARRY’S OUTFIT FROM TOUR IN NETHERLANDS

fan1 imagine looking like that

fan2 this is an au where harry is a hijabi woman

[harrystyles liked this comment.]

↳ fan3 OH MY GOD HE LIKED

↳ fan4 he: confirmed

harrystyles A look.

↳ fan5 I want to thank the queen y/n for teaching harry online lingo

#for my girls #wellbeafinelime #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff imagine #Harry Styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #fluff #fluff one shot #hijabi!reader #best friend harry #best friend!harry #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles fake social media #harry styles instagram #hijabi

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wish-i-wasnt-a-coward · 3 years

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Everything and Nothing

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Pairings: Demus, eventual LAMP

Warnings: cursing, rain, tattoo mention, scars, mention of strangling,

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It had been around a week since the Princes had taken residence in the small Floridan town. The adults began returning to work seeing as the difficult parts of moving were mostly over. This meant that the twins were left home alone more and more frequently.

Roman had returned to the shopping district, bringing Remus. Who immediately began plotting their next tattoo.

Roman’s new friends did spend some days with the twins, often mentioning a third person that she had yet to meet. Remus was his usual chaotic self, harassing Patton to no end, he did, however, manage to win Logan’s begrudging friendship through his constant questions. The two of them had some of the most fantastic conversations about the most random stuff.

But all good things must come to an end, and in a blink of an eye, the summer was over. Thankfully the four would be going to the same high school, so the melancholy mood was laced with a certain excitement in seeing each other every day, and of course the highly anticipated meeting of Virgil.

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Remus had had a good week. They had made a friend, which seldom happened due to their ‘unique approach to life’, as his father liked to say. He had spent time with their twin and parents, which often was hard to do. They had even gotten a personal record of breaking their finger for the fourth time.

But standing at the bus stop, in the pouring rain without an umbrella because your twin liked the aesthetic, was not high on Remus’s to-do list.

By the time the bus arrived both of them were soaked to the skin. Remus was sure that if you wrung out their shirt you would get at least a gallon of water. The bus driver gave them a sympathetic smile and nodded towards the back of the bus.

Roman found a seat quickly next to an emo kid, leaving Remus to fend for himself. They frantically scoped the rows of seats before basically throwing themselves into the nearest one. What a great way to start the day.

The bus lurched forward and began its course again. Remus looked across the row and out the windows at the lashing rain. Plugging in his earbuds he hit play on the new Mother Mother album, Seven playing in their ears he turned back to look at his unfortunate victim. They were looking down at their phones, earbuds in. A yellow hijab blocking their face from Remus’s view.

Suddenly their heads turned, as though they felt Remus’s eyes on them. Their bright eyes landed on the fidgety boy. The left half of their face had long red streaks going up and down, that eye also had a glassy look. Any sane person would leave the slightly frightening character alone. Fortunately, Remus wasn’t even remotely sane.

“Halloo, my name’s Remus, he/they,” they said, “I like your hijab, I’m almost certain you have enough fabric to smother someone while still wearing it” The person smiled at him, “You’re right there is enough fabric. I’m Janus, any pronouns, It’s horrible to meet you,” they said with a wink.

“I’m guessing you're new around here,” Janus said as she shifted to face the gremlin boy. “Yep, I ‘accidentally’ sent a kid to the hospital and got kicked out of my previous school, so me n’ my twin moved here!” They confirmed.

Janus didn’t even look phased by the confession. “Well you should do nicely, there is plenty of violence for entertainment. You have your schedule, yes?” Remus nodded, pulling a crumpled piece of paper out of their pocket. “K, most of the teachers here are ignorant sluts. You can always rely on Mr. Flores for an interesting class though” they said with a vague gesture ”Ah, Lovely we have chemistry and gym together” Janus grinned, “I’m looking forward to bullying Mr. Sanders with you” With that, the bus pulled into the school and Janus disappeared into the crowds.

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Virgil was tired, then again he was always tired. Just extra tired today. He woke up to rain coming in through the window, meaning he had to clean up the sill and empty all his fake candles. Of course, there was also school, which Virgil was not looking forward to. He couldn’t find a binder for the longest time, and when he did it was one of the ones he had almost outgrown.

And then, as if the universe had decided to use him as a personal punching bag, some prick sat next to him during the bus ride. They didn’t say anything, but Virgil’s anxiety had been through the roof the whole time. Though in part, Virgil admitted, it may have been because the stranger looked like a fucking movie star.

Their black hair was damp and had hung around their perfect jawline. Their skin was a soft copper color that reminded the boy of autumn somehow. They wore sword earrings, a distinctive red and white trench coat, and, when Virgil looked down he saw that their nails were painted a lovely sunset orange.

The entire bus ride Virgil didn’t breathe in fear of annoying the beautiful person next to him. His sibling would punch him and tell him to ‘man up and talk to the kid’. But he ignored their voices in his head. He was content pining from afar.

He’d done it before and he’ll do it again.

#sander sides #sander sides fanfiction #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #ts virgil #ts LAMP #prinxiety #ts prinxiety #demus #ts demus #roman sanders #remus sanders #ts remus #ts roman #deceit sanders #janus sanders #ts deceit #ts janus #creative twins

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hopetofantasy · 3 years

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‘HUMO’s big youth survey - Politics, society and religion’ - With Nora Dari (part 1)

- TW: corona pandemic, mental health, sickness, religion, islamophobia, racism, cancel culture -

Who better to test out the results of HUMO’s brand new ‘youth survey’ than a trio of three young gods? Bouba Kalala (23) made the switch between ‘Studio Brussel’ and the social media-team of the ‘SP.A’ - sorry, ‘Vooruit’. Céleste Cockmartin (21), daughter of sexologist and politician Goedele Liekens, just started her third year of neuropsychology in Maastricht. Nora Dari (19) portrays the beautiful Yasmina in the wildly popular ‘wtFOCK’. ‘If we don’t rise up to the streets, a lot of things will remain the same.’

- Note from hopetofantasy: ‘SP.A’, soon to be rebranded as ‘Vooruit’, is a social democratic political party -

For the past quarter of the century, HUMO surveyed every new batch of youngsters, but never before did we had to include a pandemic in our questionnaire. It’s a first! And even though the youth isn’t the most popular target of the virus, they’ll emerge from the corona crisis with scars on them too.

Half of young people thinks life will never return to what it was before. The girls are even more pessimistic than the boys. Nora Dari: “I wouldn’t call us pessimistic: we weren’t on the right track at all. This is one big wake-up call. I’ve never felt as alone yet together as during lockdown. On social media, we were already used to our own bubble. Then suddenly, all these bubbles began to look the same and everyone kept talking about the same thing.”

Bouba Kalala: “For one moment, the crisis showed us how good the world could be. I even started to cry at the drone images of VTM. I think we’ll bring that unity with us to the post-corona era.” Nora Dari: “When my mom stepped on the bus with her hijab before this, she would have gotten the side-eye. Now people scowl at those without mouth-masks. Weird how fast everything can change.” Bouba Kalala: “My grandpa experienced the war, we lived through a pandemic. Shit happens. When the Germans threw bombs on England, everyone re-emerged after the bombardments, re-opened their shops and even made jokes about it - ‘Everything at explosive prices!’. That’s what we should do now: we have to take corona seriously and follow the measures, but being scared won’t help us more forward.”

Do young people have to give up too much, because of the corona crisis? Almost one out of three think they do. Céleste Cockmartin: “I don’t have the feeling I’m giving up on a lot. But young people really do try and avoid infecting the elderly. When I’m in Maastricht and only see my peers for weeks at a time, then I’ll be less restrained. But when visiting my parents, I’m very careful. It’s just a matter of not being selfish. What’s so difficult about wearing a mask and disinfecting your hands?” Nora Dari: “Quite a lot of people don’t believe in masks.” Bouba Kalala: “Really? I don’t know anyone who dismisses the rules and says: ‘I’m going to go anywhere and do what I want.’ But those that do, get a story in the news. As if every young person doesn’t give a fuck.” You do? Bouba Kalala: “I have to: my grandpa who’s 84, is staying with us. I did sin once, though. Going to a friend’s house for some drinks, other friends come over and suddenly you’re with ten people.” Nora Dari: “I’ve had corona and I was scared to death that I’d infect my parents. So I locked myself up in my bedroom for two weeks.” Céleste Cockmartin: “Seriously? I wouldn't be able to handle it mentally if I couldn't go out.” Nora Dari: “But I was incredibly sick, so the solitary confinement didn’t bother me. I’ve binged all there was to binge on Netflix.” Bouba Kalala: “And your sense of smell and taste?” Nora Dari: “Still gone! I can’t taste anything. Us, Moroccans, drink mint tea every day. Now, a month later, it still tastes like water.” Did the virus change you? Nora Dari: “I’m pretty religious. Corona has given me even more the understanding that everything is in God’s hands.” Faith is on the rise again: the number of young people claiming they’re atheist or non-religious declined from 50 to 41 percent. Céleste Cockmartin: “Everyone is looking for meaning and answers. I search these answers in science.” Bouba Kalala: “For me, science and God have the same worth. Believers can’t prove there is something, but science can’t disprove it either.” You believe there’s something? Bouba Kalala: “Yes, but what? I believe in the universe, the force of attraction, the power of positive thinking... I don’t want to sound too much like a hippie, but I also believe in the paranormal and UFOs. (*Céleste and Nora laugh out loud*) What? UFOs are my hobby. Even the American army admits there is something, so there must be something (*laughs*).” Nora Dari: “I often hear it: young people believe in something, but they don’t know (yet) in what they believe.” It’s all clear to you. Nora Dari: “Yes. I’m lucky to be born in a muslim family, but even then, there’s a moment where you think: is this the religion that really defines me? I’ve done research and began reading books, but my heart truly connected with the Islam. It feels like true love.” Céleste Cockmartin: “I can be jealous about that. I think it’s a shame sometimes, that I don’t have that faith. It seems to be a good solace during the hard times. For a lot of people, faith isn’t much more than a form of meditation.” Bouba Kalala: “The grandma from a friend of mine passed away recently. I found it hard to comfort her. I don’t have that issue with my Moroccan or Turkish friends, because we know she’s with God. The idea that she isn’t gone, brings peace.” In 2015, when we were still discussing the imminent terror attacks, 9 percent called themselves muslim. Now it’s 17 percent. Nora Dari: “I think it’s related to the terrorists. Because of them, muslims and non-muslims started asking questions about Islam. People studied the religion and concluded that it’s actually really beautiful.” When you were 13, you wore a hijab for a while. Nora Dari: “As a young girl, I often visited the community center in Winterslag. It closed down by the time I went to high school. From a tiny school with only two Belgians without an immigration background, to a school with a handful of muslims. Suddenly the world seemed bigger. I needed something familiar, something I could join and where I felt included. That was the Islam. After two years, I realized that my choice to wear the hijab, was too hasty. I wore it so I wouldn’t feel alone, but when I got older, I understood: I’m not alone. With or without hijab, God’s always with me.” Will you wear it again some day? Nora Dari: “I hope so. If someone asks me why I don’t wear it, I don’t have an excuse. It’s something so beautiful. Yet, right now, it doesn’t feel as if it’s something I need to do.” Do you feel, as a muslim, that you’re less of a target than a few years ago? Nora Dari: “Yes. That’s connected with the trend of being woke, being aware of everything and refusing to think anything is bad. Due to this, a lot of youngsters are becoming less critical. Which is a shame.” And here I thought, young people were only positive about being woke? Nora Dari: “But what is the meaning of ‘being woke’?” I was hoping you could tell me. Nora Dari: “No one knows. Everyone pretends to know (*laughs*).” Bouba Kalala: “That’s being woke, I think: not knowing everything, stop pretending like you have all the answers.” Nora Dari: “You know what bothers me? That we live in such a cancel culture. One bad tweet and you’re cancelled for life. There’s nothing woke about that?” Bouba Kalala: “Without social media, we wouldn’t have cancel culture: every brain fart continues to exist on the internet. Years later, someone will dig up a wrong statement and use it to take you down.” Nora Dari: “Young people would do well, if they followed the people they don’t agree with on social media.” Bouba Kalala: “Yes!” Nora Dari: “If I'd follow Dries Van Langenhove (= extreme right politician / activist) tomorrow, my followers would throw a fit: ‘Do you agree with him?’ No, the exact opposite! But how can I understand how he thinks, if I don’t follow him? If I only followed people whom I agree with, I’ll get tangled up into my own truths. The world doesn’t stop with my own Insta page.” Céleste Cockmartin: “That’s being woke: talking with your opponents. I once started a conversation with Dries Van Langenhove. I ran into him in Ghent, at the time of the ‘Schild & Vrienden’ TV report. I had to know: what’s the deal with that group? Unfortunately the conversation wasn’t very clear - it was the nightlife neighborhood. But I’ll stick with my statement: start a conversation with dissendents.” And the youth of today doesn’t do that? Nora Dari: “Not at all. We rather cancel each other.” Bouba Kalala: “I already know that I’ll get racist bullshit hurled at me after this interview. I've learned not to care. Hate posts are good for my algorithm.” You don’t reply to them? Bouba Kalala: “I do, every time. One time, I argued for hours with someone who sent a racist tweet. I kept going: ‘Why do you say that, Arno? Do you realize this hurts?’. In the end, he even thanked me. I went to my mom, showed her the conversation and we’ve high-fived each other. I know that Arno will vote for Vlaams Belang (= extreme right political party) again, but he did say ‘thank you’, while he started with that sick tweet.”

#wtfock #wtfam #part 1 of ...#because my Tumblr keeps glitching #I'm dropping part one already #nora dari

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spooky-z · 4 years

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Mom? Dad? Chaos.

First, I would like to thank you all! Really. And I'm not talking about the followers (which reached the 500), no. I'm talking about your reception for my stories. You guys are awesome!

Second, Marinette is a little... dark in this story. Maybe because she fought Hawkmoth for a long time or Batfam influence, I don't know. She defends herself and defends her friends against Lila. So, don't be surprised, please.

(finally managing to edit the post f- u tumblr) 6K of salt, sailors.

Lightly based on Wayne Travelers by @multishipper1needshalp Maribat by @ozmav

The day had started normal.

Marinette getting up late for class and getting ready in a hurry while Tikki helped the girl as best she could, her parents setting the table for breakfast together and Damian sitting, waiting for his girlfriend to go to school together. Adrien still asleep after staying up all night with Jonathan on the phone.

That had become Marinette's morning routine for the past two years, with Damian going to Paris to study economics with the best education that money could afford and her finishing high school in Dupont with Adrien.

And as said before, the day had started normal.

They ate breakfast with her parents, Marinette kicking Adrien out of bed and walked together to Dupont's entrance, where their paths parted.

She had kissed Damian good-bye and he whispered a “see you later” before getting in the car parked on the sidewalk. The driver politely waving to Marinette.

Adrien grimacing in the background, like a child watching his parents kiss.

It had been normal the way the class wrinkled their noses as she passed them; how everyone was in their proper place when Lila began to tell the latest nonsense lie; when Adrien came right behind her and was forced to sit next to the Italian (face completely twisted in pained expression); Chloe walking to the back of the room and placing a tender kiss on Marinette's cheek before sitting next to her; the two whispering the news to each other while Adrien sent a wistful look to his friends; their kwamis together in the boy's bag (since it was the largest of the three there).

Ms. Bustier leaving and leaving them with free time to do whatever they want.

This was normal. This was the routine after Hawkmoth had given up on terrorizing Paris and returned the butterfly and peacock Miraculous. After Gabriel Agreste had been arrested.

What was not normal now was that portal opening beside Ms. Bustier's desk and five people passing by.

The whole class frozen in shock.

The first out was obviously the oldest. In his 19 years, probably.

Black hair - in the sunlight there was a bluish illumination - trapped in a bun at the top of his head, the eyes were a cold and sharp gray, his skin was a beautiful olive tone, a strong jaw and the body showed that he was very more than just physically active.

The second person to go through the portal was a girl, who was about 15/16 years old.

They couldn't see the color of her hair, as she wore a hijab, but the eyes were a vivid and bright green, her skin was paler, small face, pink lips in a cupid bow and she also seemed to exercise a lot too.

The first two seemed to be siblings and that at least one of the parents was Asian.

The third was a blonde girl. She was the same age as the first girl, not much older than 16. While she didn't seem to have a more defined body, just the fact that she wasn't touching the floor when she left the portal said a lot about her.

The blond hair - exactly the color of Chloe and Adrien's hair - was long and loose, the curls unruly. The eyes were blue, a radiant blue and not very common, the triangular face, the doll's lips.

The fourth person was actually a little boy, who must have been at most 3 years old and was in the blonde girl's arms.

His hair was black and unruly, eyes were the same bright blue as the girl, round face with rosy cheeks, pale skin and he was sucking his thumb.

The last person to pass through the portal had been a girl with a much stronger Asian heritage than the first two.

Her cherry-red dyed hair reaching her shoulders, body far more defined than the girl with the hijab - her biceps pronounced by the shirt – the eyes were amber and dangerous, thin lips, her skin was tanned from spending too much time in the sun, oval face.

They stared silently at the class as the portal closed behind them.

"Okay... Who's going to tell this to our parents?" The blonde girl asks, breaking the silence and the red-haired girl looks at her, a murderous expression on her face.

“That was your fault! You're the one to tell!” Growls.

The blonde girl looks sincerely sorry.

"How would I know this was a time machine?!"

The redhead approaches her, her fists clenched ready to pounce, but the oldest of the five holds her in place.

"Rie, Emilie, please. Now is not the time to fight." His voice comes up like a blade. Sharp. "Especially with Clark among you."

They move away from each other. Rie walks closer to the classroom door, Emilie floats toward the window. Both with serious faces.

"It's not wanting to cut your drama, but we're not alone." The hijab girl says, drawing their attention to her. “We have audience, (哥哥) gēge.” She points to the still very frozen class.

He turns, his eyes scanning the students, before locking in the back of the room. In Marinette and Chloe. His eyes close in a pained expression.

“Fuck.” Curses without shame. "Dad will kill us."

"Absolutely." She replies, not looking any little upset at the situation.

In fact, her eyes were shining. She seemed very excited about everything.

The bell rings and it seems to wake everyone up from the shock, the students frenzied.

Everyone talking at the same time, they approach; Alya with the phone in hand; Marinette talking quickly on the phone, looking worried; Chloe was looking critically at the newcomers, the familiar feeling poking at her head; Adrien looked downright in love with the little boy in Emilie's arms.

Lila was... Wanting to take advantage of the situation to do something.

Rie begins to fuss over and over with the noise of the class, the pitch of the sound seemed to be hurting Clark's sensitive ears. The situation gets worse until she screams, anger clear in her tone.

“どけ! (Doke!)” Everyone shuts up but doesn't understand what she says. "I said get away, NOW!"

They are frightened by the girl's ferocity and move away.

“Okay, now one at a time.” When everyone moves to talk together again, she raises her hand in a stop signal. "Raise your hands and I'll choose who speaks."

They quickly raise their hands, waving violently. Max was jumping in his seat.

"You." Rie points to Rose and the girl stands up happily.

"What is the name of you all?" Questions.

Rie raises an eyebrow, disbelieving that this was the most important question the girl had to ask, but said nothing. Who answers is Emilie.

"I'm Emilie, this little one is Clark, the scary one is (理恵) Rie, the handsome guy over there is (健) Jiàn and the hijab girl is Aria-" She turns sideways to point at the girl, just to find the empty spot. “Where's Aria?” She asks the two beside her and Rie just points to the back of the room.

And they all turned just in time to see Marinette being hugged her life away by the girl.

“妈妈 (māmā) you are so cute!” Both Adrien and Chloe gasp, eyes wide. Marinette gets paler and paler.

That moment makes both Rie and Clark notice the blondes in the room and Clark begins to cry, writhing in Emilie's arms and trying to reach Adrien.

“Papa! Papa!” The little boy sniffles until Emilie releases him and lets him fly to Adrien.

The class shouts at the demonstration of power.

The blonde catches him reflexively, hugging the small body in his arms and the boy sinks, melting in the warmth. He looks shocked at Emilie, wanting an explanation and the girl just shrugs, a bland smile on her face.

"Hi Dad."

Adrien chokes, his eyes filling with water, thrilled. He smiles back in disbelief.

"Hi?"

Chloe rises from her seat indignantly.

"Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!” Shouts. “Why do you two get visits from your future kids, but not me?!” She stomps her foot in a tantrum.

It seemed just another bout of Chloe's futility, but Marinette - who was still being held by Aria - felt her heart ache at the hurt look on her best friend's face.

“Chlo-”

"What am I? Invisible?” Rie responds rudely. “You should recognize your children, 母 (haha).” Her cheeks were rosy despite her serious face.

Chloe is speechless before going downstairs and throwing herself into Rie's arms. She could scarcely believe that she had built a family in the future, that apparently her best friends continued together years and years into the future.

“And you must be my son!” Lila's voice cuts the happy mood. "Handsome like that, you're just like my Damian."

Chloe turns away from Rie, Marinette comes down the stairs with Aria and Adrien stays in his seat, with Clark in his lap and Emilie sitting at his desk, stroking the blond boy's hair.

The seven looks at Lila standing in front of Jiàn, who seemed disgusted with the thought of being her son.

"Yes, many say I look a lot like my father," He replies. And although the expression is not the best, his voice contains no emotion. "But I have my grandmother's eyes."

Lila seems especially excited about the boy's response.

Alya still recording everything and the class in an eternal pause.

“Oh! Now I see! You really look like my mother. She's very beautiful, looks like a model.” Lila says, glancing quickly at Alya, probably making sure the girl was recording everything.

Jiàn wrinkles his nose in disgust and turns away from the greedy hands of the Italian.

“You're not my mother.” Lila is surprised by the hatred in the boy's tone. "My mother has decency and honor, something you obviously lack."

The class seems to stop breathing.

"Oh, that hurt." Emilie muttered, chin resting on Adrien's head.

She had left Adrien's desk and was sitting at Alya's desk, which was behind the boy, so that she could hug him like a koala. Clark was dozing in his arms.

Alya snorted offended.

"Hey, this is no way to talk to her!" She moved, the phone still clenched in her fist.

"I speak the way I want." Jiàn answers. "Criminals and liars don't deserve my respect."

The class starts talking on top of each other, confused.

“What do you mean?” Alix's voice sticks out.

Jiàn tilts his head, but straightens again. An expression on his face as if he had just unraveled the mystery of the century.

"Oh, you haven't found out yet..."

"Or rather, they haven't opened their eyes yet." Aria comments.

Kim gets up, his face rock hard.

"Explain."

The newcomers exchange glances with each other. Aria raises her eyebrow, Emilie shrugs, Jiàn sighs and Rie looks at everyone.

"I think aunt Mari already told you about the sausage being a liar." She pats Chloe's arm affectionately. “Lila Rossi, in 2046, is under arrest for terrorism, extortion, sexual harassment, blackmail and best of all: murder.” Rie smiles darkly as she watches the students' pale faces.

Alya's phone recording every second of everything. Live. On Ladyblog.

Lila feels panic bubbling in her chest, her hands shaking and a sudden weakness in her legs. This could not be happening!

She glances at everyone in the class, noting the expressions between disbelief and fear, only Alya still holding the angry expression on her face.

Adrien, Chloe, and Marinette did not seem surprised by what the boy said, nor angry. She would use that to her advantage.

Lila's eyes widen in the most pitiful expression possible. The fake tears already running down her cheeks. She didn't forget to sniff before she spoke.

“Why are you guys doing this to me?” That catches everyone's attention, Kim being the first to come to the rescue. She uses the boy for support. “Is it some kind of horrible plan Marinette came up with? I know she hates me, but I didn't think she would do something so wicked to bring me down.”

Alya, Alix and Mylene are quick to reach both of them to comfort Lila. Which left Ivan, Nathaniel, Max, Rose, Juleka and Nino to defend the honor of the Italian.

“Look what you did!” The DJ pointed out. "Lila is crying because of you!"

"It had to be Chloe's daughter." Max says, adjusting his prescription glasses to his face. "Only a snake would give birth to another snake."

Emilie sighs offended, as does Aria and Jiàn.

Max barely has time to blink before feeling the sharp edge of Rie's katana in his throat. He swallows, the eyes wide.

She had left Chloe in the same spot before jumping over the tables and reaching Max. The katana that had been her belt, taking shape in her hands just in time to reach the target.

"Call my mother snake again and I'll cut your head off." She says coldly.

Nathaniel runs away, Rose and Juleka accompany him. Even Lila swallows the fake cry feeling the fear run down her spine.

"You wouldn't have the guts-" Ivan begins, but quickly shuts up when he sees Max leaning as far away from the sword as the red thread of blood trickles down his throat.

"Do you doubt...?" Rie says quietly. "Are you sure?"

Marinette reacts with that, ready to separate the girl from her classmate.

“Wait-

“Rie Tsurugi Bourgeois!” Aria calls, voice like steel. "Let him go."

Rie doesn't move, doesn't even blink.

“Now.” Aria raises her voice. Adrien and Marinette are able to see her eyes turn a radioactive shade of green (which resembles Chat Noir's eyes very much) and her round pupils narrow like those of a reptile.

Rie grits her teeth, smoke escaping between them. She squeezes the katana a little deeper into the boy's throat before moving back toward Chloe.

The blade becomes malleable in her hands and she fastens around her waist again, sparing no glance at the rest of the class. Not at all sorry.

Marinette breathes a sigh of relief, but soon becomes serious. She needed to fix that mess.

"Okay." Says it out of nowhere and catches everyone's attention. Aria once again hung around her neck. “This day was too weird in just a few minutes, so I need everyone to collaborate.”

Her gaze points mainly to Rie and Alya, who turn their head into a tantrum.

“First, I want an explanation for that.” Hands shake in the air. “What are you doing here in 2022 and who are you?”

Jiàn smiles quietly before getting serious again.

“Our names have already been said, so I'll tell you where we came from.” He takes the liberty to sit on Ms. Bustier's desk, as if he owns the place. “First, we are from the future, as you have already understood. Secondly, we are children of three students in this class.”

The young man turns to Rie, beckoning her to proceed.

"I'm Rie Tsurugi Bourgeois, I have a twin sister named Alice." She turns to Chloe. “We are your daughters with Kagami Tsurugi. I think you two became something last year, 2021, right?” And the blonde nods emphatically. "Three years from now you get married and after five years Alice and I are born."

Chloe hugs the girl, wild feelings in her chest.

“My turn!” Emilie shook herself on the table, Clark, still sleeping, shifted uncomfortably. "My name is Emilie Lois Agreste-Kent and this cute sleeping is my brother, Clark Auguste Agreste-Kent." She notices Marinette's horrified look and sighs in agreement. "I know I know. Our names are one thing... horrible, but they wanted to honor our grandparents...”

The class makes a confused sound and Nathaniel is the fastest to speak up.

“I don't understand.” The voice loud enough just for a quiet room to hear. "Adrien's mother's name is Emilie, Lois may be his mother-in-law's name and Clark the father-in-law's name..." He pauses thoughtfully. “Why Auguste? Shouldn't it be Gabriel?”

At the sound of the name, newcomers, Chloe, Marinette and even Adrien himself react negatively, leaving no doubt of the dislike of the designer.

"Because Gabriel never was and never will be a father to uncle Adrien." Aria replies.

Nino nods in agreement with the girl.

“… Ok, I understand where you come from. But who is Auguste?” He asks. “I don't remember anyone with that name Adrien commented on.”

The blonde gives a bland laugh before looking at the DJ.

"It's because I never speak his name, but you know him... the gorilla."

Nino widens his eyes at the news, but soon understanding dawns on his face. It made sense. The man cared more for Adrien than his own father, who could only look at his belly button.

"Wait!" Alya calls. “Gorilla's name is Auguste?” Adrien nods and she presses her palm over her face. “Oh my god, this is cursed! He doesn't look like an Auguste!”

Emilie releases Adrien to fly over his head.

"I know! I once told him that and he laughed at me!” Her hand movements were wild.

It makes Alya pale.

"He laughed. Adrien's bodyguard laughed. Oh my God."

Lila gets fed up with the situation and decides to return the conversation to where it mattered. She needed to know who Adrien's future wife was, just so she could make sure they never met. With Gabriel's help, of course.

He might have been arrested, but he still had... powers over Adrien.

“We already understood that part, but you never told us who your mother was.”

Emilie freezes in the air, the cheerful, happy air slipping into an empty shell. She sits back behind Adrien, her gaze hard on the Italian.

“Because I don't have a mother.” She responds and Lila had to control the happy smile that wanted to escape. “I have two dads. Adrien Agreste and Jonathan Samuel Kent.”

The air in the room becomes cold after she finishes speaking. Lila never felt as much hatred as she did then.

Adrien was hers. Just hers. Knowing he was married to a man in the future was too much for the girl.

“B-but how? I thought Adrien was straight. We all know he dated Kagami.” Mylene asks.

Adrien frowns at the girl. Not a bit happy.

"I never said I was straight or that Kagami and I were dating." His voice was dry. “Kagami and Chloe have been together since last year, Jon and I have been dating since I was fifteen. Four years ago."

Alya gives Marinette unhappy glances, as if pitying the girl for the news. But in the end, she notices that the brunette was not at all surprised or shaken.

"And about you? Who is your father?” She points to Aria, who raises an eyebrow at her. The mockery in all body expression. "We know you're Marinette's daughter because we heard you call her mother, but you didn't say who your father was."

Aria rolls her eyes and sighs, completely tired of having to deal with these people. They were very ignorant.

"Aria Dupain-Cheng Wayne-" Surprised sighs are heard.

“And Jiàn Dupain-Cheng Wayne. We are children of Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Damian Al-Ghul Wayne. There is Thomas too, but he was with Alfred and the Couffaine siblings when we... traveled back in time.” Jiàn cuts his sister, making a sardonic bow toward Alya.

Marinette was choking as she tried to hold back a scream.

Those were her children! There were three! She and Damian had been together for many, many years! Her heart was beating so fast that she feared everyone in the room would be able to hear.

“… Damian Wayne. Isn't that the name of your boyfriend, Lila?” Juleka says suddenly and everyone looks at the Italian trying to sneak out of the classroom.

She stops, knowing everyone was keeping an eye on her and turning around, her eyes full of tears.

It was time to put on a show.

"M-Marinette!" She sniffs. “How can you go so low stealing my Damiboo from me?! I thought you were better!” The hands cover her face and shoulders begin to shake, as if she’s crying.

"WHA-"

“My God, girl!” Alya shouts angrily as she approaches Lila once more. Alix, Mylene, and Kim did not move from the scene. “Stealing Lila's boyfriend? As if it wasn't enough to be an envious slut-

Jiàn turns the face so fast that Rie can hear the young man's bones crack. The face contorted into a murderous expression.

“I suggest you not finish this sentence, otherwise I will be forced to do something my parents wouldn't approve of.”

Lila pulls her hands away from her face looking at the boy in defiance.

"What? But it's true! First Adrien, now my Damiboo. Your mother is a bitc-” Before Lila could finish the sentence, Jiàn was in front of her. Alya pushed aside, along with the phone that fell to the floor.

His right hand goes straight to Lila's face, squeezing her chin as he forces her to face him. He didn't need to look at the look of horror on her face to know that anger and disgust were clear in his eyes.

“You're an unpleasant person, Lila Rossi.” He says. “Even though you know you have nowhere to run, that you only have those futile idiots to control, you still try to play the wronged good girl.”

Adrien gets up from the chair, Marinette approaches and Chloe too.

“Jiàn, I think-”

Aria puts her hand on Marinette's shoulder, drawing the girl's attention back to her. "No. He won't hurt her... physically.”

“But-” Adrien protests.

“Dad, please. In the future you regret not stopping her before. Let Jiàn do it.” Emilie says seriously. The most serious she had been until that moment.

When Marinette and Adrien steps back, the class sees this as allowing newcomers to do whatever they want, so they run to Lila's rescue. Alya quickly rising from the floor, the phone forgotten.

"Let her go now!" Kim shouts. He tries to hit Jiàn with a punch, but Rie is quick to stop him.

"And why would i do that? Ms. Volpina here, did much worse things helping Hawkmoth.” Lila widens her eyes, the panic clear in her face.

"I-I"

“What was that little fox? No more lies to tell us? Are you afraid because you can no longer use akumas to get rid of difficult situations?” The sarcasm in Jiàn's voice was clear, as was the acidity.

Everyone saw the way Lila stopped trying to defend herself and her gaze became sharp. Malicious. Jiàn took this to get away from the girl. She took the time to straighten her hair and caress her jaw before a blatant smile took over her expression.

Alya felt the ice run down her spine, discomfort rolling in her stomach. She stepped back, trying to create distance.

The class reacting precisely the same.

“Oh? Do you really think I need some old man and cursed butterflies to get what I want?” Rose choked on the way Lila spoke. “Look at what we have here. Come on, look!” She shakes her hands, signaling around them.

“I managed to fool these people for years. YEARS! No one doubting a word of what I was saying. Even with the most trusted person in the class trying to warn of my tricks, they just ignored it. They treated her like trash, they threw her into a corner... They humiliated her.” Mylene cried and Ivan tried to comfort her.

“And I didn't even have to do anything much, just say what they wanted to hear.” There was a victorious smile on the Italian's face. “Hawkmoth was just a tool. I never needed him to get where I got.” She nodded dismissively.

“So, you lied to us all this time?” Alix growls, Kim having to hold her so she doesn't hit Lila.

The Italian raised an eyebrow, smiling as if nothing was wrong.

"Alix, Alix ... You guys were so naive." Lila sighs theatrically. “I mean, dumb. Ignorant. Easy. Fools. I think you were by far the easiest people to manipulate.” She shrugs.

“You… are the worst! I don't believe-” Nathaniel stops and shakes his head violently, trying to deal with the situation.

“Ow, poor thing.” Lila sneers. “Okay, I was a little harsh with my words. It was not entirely your fault. Caline Bustier played a huge part in all this, since without her passivity, I would probably have been discovered much earlier.”

Marinette cringes at the teacher's name.

Caline had gone from being Marinette's favorite teacher to the less pleasant one. The woman's pacifism gave the brunette knots in her stomach. Each time she heard the phrase “be an example to others,” the discomfort washed over her body and all Marinette could think about was running home and sleeping for an entire week.

She knew that Lila's era of terror in her life would not have stretched so long had it not been for Caline Bustier's incompetence. Just with the teacher checking Lila's medical notes to know that everything the girl said she suffered was true would suffice. Then all the other lies would be uncovered, like a crumbling house of cards.

But she never did. Not even when Marinette explicitly expressed her concerns. When Adrien took the courage to confess that he felt bad about Lila being overly sticky. Or when Sabrina wept on the teacher's shoulder that Lila had made mean comments about her mother. And also, when Chloe denounced the Italian for homophobia.

Caline Bustier had been complacent. Never moving a finger to help students. Thus, Lila Rossi's greatest facilitator in Dupont.

“Ms. Bustier has nothing to do with it!” Juleka shouts in distress.

It was the first time they had seen her like that.

Lila rolls her eyes.

"Of course she have! Or do you really think that an adult woman with a master's degree, teacher, who deals with children and teens daily for years, would believe everything you say?” Her voice was annoying. “Please, you deify totally wrong people. Where's the critical sense? No one here can see the world without the pink lenses?!”

As soon as Lila finishes speaking, the room was silent. Rose and Juleka had twin expressions of disbelief, Alya cried silently, Nino tried to find support in Nathaniel who was unsure what to do, Kim along with Alix and Max had angry expressions on their faces, Mylene and Ivan hugged tightly to each other.

Aria with her arms around Marinette, both with expressions of pure boredom. Chloe and Rie had sat at Adrien's desk throughout the confrontation, tired of Lila's villain speech. Jian, already away from the Italian, was arms crossed and raised eyebrow. Adrien was the only one in the second group who was minimally disturbed by Lila's words. Clark slept despite all the confusion and Emilie had stolen the model's phone to play while flying around the room.

Lila had a victorious expression on her face as if the speech had solved all her problems.

Oh man. If only she knew.

"Did you get everything?" Marinette says in the silence of the class and everyone looks at her.

“What-” Lila begins.

"I'm not talking to you." The girl cuts her off, her expression disinterested and voice like steel. “I'm talking to him.” Marinette picks up the phone (which has never left her hands since newcomers showed up in the classroom) and shakes it, showing a video call in progress.

“Of course, حبيبتي (habibat).” The person in the video call answers. A youngster. "We are on our way. Don't let her run away.” The call is cut off and Marinette puts the phone in her hoodie pocket.

She stares at Lila. The cold, deadly eyes. Like a predator about to pounce.

“Of course I won't let it. Not anymore.” There was a dangerous smile on her lips. “It's my time to go after you, Li-la! Change our dynamics. Threatening me in the dark corners of the school is getting outdated, so it's time for prey to become a predator, don't you think?”

Lila senses the danger in the girl's words and steps back without thinking. She keeps a brave expression.

“And what do you think you are going to do? Tell your little friend?” She forces a mocking laugh. “Please, Dupain-Cheng. You know you can't against me. Never could.”

Aria lets go of Marinette and the girl slowly makes her way to the Italian, without breaking eye contact for a second. She was waiting for an opening to be able to make her move.

“Are you sure about that, Lila Agnola Rossi?” Lila doesn't hold her breath at the full name. “Because I have a lot of material against you. Your mother helped us a lot. A nice woman, despite working so hard. She needs to rest, don't you think?”

Marinette stops, less than a foot from the Italian, before leaning further. Warm breath hitting Lila's face with how close they were.

“And she said everything, you know? About how you lied about school being closed by akuma attacks, about being bullied and how your boyfriend Adrien Agreste-“ The boy and Emilie make sounds of disgust. "Are considering asking you to marry at graduation!"

Chloe sneers in the background. Aria, Jiàn and Rie laughing at what she said.

“When you-” Lila's lips were pale and her eyes wide.

Marinette leaps away. A smile bordering the maniac on her face.

“You don't know how surprised she was when we said the school was never closed!” She spins, arms raised to the ceiling. "Or that Adrien Agreste has a boyfriend."

“YOU DID WHAT?!” Lila shouted, advancing on Marinette, only to be held back by the hard look the girl sent toward her.

“Imagine the other surprise she had to learn that her little girl was a compulsive and abusive liar? That the only child she gave birth was lying as she breathed? Lila, Lila. Lying about Jagged was your first mistake, Prince Ali the second. The third was about Ladybug.” Marinette lifts a finger at Alya who reacted to the heroine's name. The girl stops. "Ladybug was not at all happy to hear her name was being dragged through the mud by someone as dirty as you."

Lila swallows hard.

“And sweetie? She wants you to pay. Pay for all the times you helped Hawkmoth and endangered innocent people or badmouthed her kitten.” Chloe laughs at Adrien's red face. “She's a very protective bug, you know? Revengeful too.”

"Is this a threat? Is that it? Ladybug sent you to threaten me?” Lila questions.

Marinette crosses her arms, a dark shadow taking over her blueberry eyes.

"Lila, I don't need Ladybug to take you down." She sighs bored. “Who do you think ended Gabriel Agreste?” The students are surprised. The newcomers sat watching like it was a very good movie. Adrien with the biggest smile ever.

“… You're lying!” Lila shouts. “Gabriel was caught by a… anonymous… report… you?!” The voice trailed off until all that was left was a whisper.

"Me." Marinette smiles.

There was a fire burning in Lila's eyes, her teeth showing, a growl deep in her throat.

"How could you?!" She bites. “You destroyed Adrien's life! How could you do this for the boy you love?!”

"Hey! She didn't destroy my life!” Adrien protests in the background, but no one listens to him.

“Ah, please! You're only annoyed because you learned that it was me who destroyed the collar Adrien was kept on and forced to wear. Or do you really believe we didn't know you and Gabriel had a deal about controlling Adrien?” Lila shivers as if she's been shocked. “We know everything. Everything."

“And you went there and put the only family he had in prison. Congratulations Marinette. You have reached a new low level.”

No one blinks for the next scene.

Marinette stretches her left hand straight to Lila's neck, pulling the girl closer to her.

"You don't open that dirty mouth to talk about family." She growls. “That man was nothing more than a piece of shit. Trash to be thrown away. He was never a father or a decent man. Being arrested was the easiest way out for him, because if I could have the opportunity to get my hands on him, you can be sure that today Adrien would have both parents buried.”

Her voice was piercing. Ice spread through the room. Everyone felt the honesty in the girl's words, no hesitation. Lila clamped her hands on Marinette's wrist, trying in vain to pull away.

She was beginning to be terrified of Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

"Let me go." She gasped as she felt the tightness in her neck tighten.

“Adrien hasn't lost a family.” Marinette ignores the girl. Adrien puts Clark in Aria's arms before getting up. He needed to stop that.

“Just now he got one. My parents are keen to make clear what family love really means; Auguste continues to work with him even though he no longer needs it; I taught him what a toxic and abusive relationship was like, how to have siblings and people to support him; Chloe accompanied him for weekly therapy; Kagami and Luka distracted him from panic attacks; Sabrina helped him understand what sexual harassment was. We were all there when he spent weeks locked in his room crying thinking he had no one else. We introduce him to what a family is. And surprise, he's much happier now.” Marinette lets go of Lila's throat and the girl swallowed huge amounts of air.

"He's much better off living in a bakery than in a ghost-filled mansion and empty rooms with people who only knew how to exploit him."

As soon as Marinette finishes talking, Adrien hugs the girl and then the door opens.

“We're here, Minette!” Sabrina's cheerful voice tears the oppressive silence of the room. "And I brought company."

Everyone turned to look at Sabrina and found a lot more people at the door than they thought.

“Dad, Damian, Jon and Kagami have come! Lu and Bruce are there at the office talking to the Director and Ms. Rossi.”

As soon as the five enter the room, Aria rushes into Damian's arms. “بابا! (baba!) You're cuter than 妈妈 (māmā) at this age!”

“… You two are grounded.” It's the only thing Damian says, pointing to Jiàn who was approaching.

“Dad!” Emilie squeals at Jonathan, who just smiles in confusion. “Oh my god, he's so cute! Did you see, papa ?!” She yells at Adrien who hides the red face on Marinette's shoulder.

The girl laughs at him patting his back.

"ママ (mama)." Rie says respectfully as Kagami looks at her and Chloe sitting at the table.

"... I'm feeling a headache coming." Roger mutters before putting Agent Raincomprix's face and looking at Lila. “Ms. Rossi, I need you to come with me. We have some questions to ask.”

Lila shakes her head in refusal.

"No. I have nothing to talk to you about. Nothing."

Roger sighs. “If you do not come for good, you will come for bad. I really don't want to use force with you.”

"I do not care! I won't go with you!” Lila’s voice rose two octaves. She was starting to get hysterical.

“Ms. Rossi.”

"No! I'm not—” Lila rolls her eyes closed before falling hard to the floor. Marinette stood behind her, the hand with fingers pressed together and the thumb bent. Like a knife.

She relaxes her posture and smiles innocently.

“To avoid more drama.”

Damian sighs. “حبيبتي (habibat).”

She continues to smile innocently.

First Hawkmoth, then Gabriel and now Lila. That was a great way to close a chapter in Marinette's life.

[tag list]

@poshplumcot @naclychilli @theatreandcomicfreak @mewwitch @zerotosiki @krispydefendorpolice @unmaskedagain @virgil-is-a-cutie @vixen-uchiha @dawnwave16 @kat-thatoneweirdo @thedarkwhiteangel @paradoxal-occurance @heldtogetherbysafetypins @celestialtitania @bluerosette23

#maribat #daminette #damian x marinette #jondrien #chlogami #miraculous ladybug #ml salt #one shots

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despressolattes · 3 years

Text

THE HEARTBREAK PRINCESS » CHAPTER ONE

THE HEARTBREAK PRINCESS MASTERLIST

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Lorelai smacked into the royal blue matts, the cushions within them doing little to nothing to soften her fall. She huffed, her abdomen aching from the aftermath of a punch she hadn't blocked. The sound of her body colliding against the surface echoed throughout her training room of the Kastilyo.

She saw stars, but not from the blow. Instead, her eyes now faced the ceiling, the rose golden stars that adorned the top of the high walls in her view. She groaned as she sat up, rubbing her head comfortingly. Her vision moved itself from the stars and trim of the walls right before they met the ceiling, and could now see her own tousled state in the mirror in front of her. The wall parallel to the door was one giant mirror, adorned with the same opulent design as the top of the walls.

The Kastilyo was what the Kingdom of Estrelya called their castle. The original designers had been careful and thorough when creating the five story building fit for royals.

Amira stood in front of her, moving on the balls of her feet swiftly, maintaining her stance with her fists protectively placed in front of her chin. She watched as the princess leaned back onto the mat, letting her dark brown hair bunch up just above her shoulders as she laid there silently.

"Giving up already?" Amira questioned, dropping her stance when she got no response.

Instead, all she heard was heavy breathing as Lorelai caught her breath.

Amira stood there with her hands on her hips. "You're the one who asked for sparring sessions, Lor."

Lorelai let out a groan, pulling herself to sit up. She moved her hair out of her face, practically slicking it back from her sweat-stained forehead. She looked up at the royal guard in front of her, looking posed.

It was a year ago that Amira had made it to the official ranks, setting the record for the Kingdom of Estrelya 's youngest member of the Royal Guard. Standing at a heaping five-foot-one, she wasn't that much shorter than the princess laying in front of her.

Despite being a mere nineteen years old, she was acknowledged as one of the strongest guards in the kingdom. She had begun her apprenticeship at the age of fifteen, skipped the status of Official Guard, and went straight to Royal Guard at the age of eighteen. It wasn't long before she scaled the ranks once again, entering a special assignment as the Princess' personal guard and attendant.

Now, she was practically beating up the princess she swore to protect—all with good intentions, though. Lorelai had requested private sparring sessions with Amira.

Amira turned to grab a water bottle from its spot near the mirror. As she stood up facing the mirror, she fixed her silken maroon hijab that was on her head.

Lorelai sat there, wondering how Amira managed to look flawless after a sparring match whilst her own hair was frizzy and untamed. Instead of answering Amira's question, she let out the one thing that had been on her mind the entire time they spared.

"I think Mom's still upset with me," Lorelai sighed, huffing breaths in and out.

"What for?" Amira asked her, turning around and taking a seat across from Lorelai on the mats.

"She had Taylor introduce me to a few more suitable candidates," the words fell off her lips mockingly, mimicking the posh accent the Royal Secretary had when she spoke. "And in person this time! I told them all it was nice to meet them, but I wasn't interested."

Amira chuckled.

"You know she's not going to give up trying to introduce you to a nice boy," Amira sighed. "Might as well humor her, let just one court you before rejecting them."

"Why get their hopes up?"

Amira bit her lip and gave her a defeated look, knowing that Lorelai had a point there. She pressed on the floor and stood up. "I'm gonna go shower if you're done for the day. Princess Daniella and Princess Kavina are supposed to be arriving today."

Lorelai gave her two thumbs up before allowing her body to fall backwards once again. Amira chuckled as she walked out of the room. Lorelai stared at the ceiling of the training room, attempting to catch her breath as she contemplated her ancestry.

"That's a good idea," Lorelai whispered to herself, pushing herself off from the ground yet again. "If I stay in all of this sweat, my eczema is gonna scream at me for it later."

Not to mention my friends are arriving soon.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lorelai glanced at herself in the full body mirror that hung from her walls, not flat against it as her room was built in a circle, with a cone roof. She believed her tower-like room might have been one of the few things that made her feel like those damsel in distress princesses from a fairytale—the way it felt like she was in some tower. Only she wasn't the one who was locked away, kept hidden from the outside world. No, not her. She swayed side to side, fumbling with the satin material of her brown sundress.

The loud sound she heard next was one she found hard to describe. It wasn't as if the word "shimmer" made a sound, but it was the only adjective that clouded her mind when she heard it. A loud, echoing, shimmer that would ring throughout the Kastilyo.

The sound of the Estrelya Portal Dock being in use. There were six Royal Portal Docks in their land—one in each of the six kingdoms. To use, however, the receiving portal would have to have its Master Key inserted and turned to the correct number on the portal's dial that corresponded with the portal that was dispatching.

The Estrelya Portal Dock was 1.

Royal Portal Docks weren't the only form of Portal Docks that existed. Smaller versions of them existed that could only be used for small distances within kingdoms, able to move from city to city, or from different neighborhoods. Because of its short range, they didn't need a Master Key to operate.

Excitedly, she skipped over to one of her many windows, pulling back its heavy curtains to look up at the bright azure sky. Her bedroom, thanks to its tower-like structure and position on the fifth and final floor, gave her a 360-degree view of the Kastilyo's surroundings. A faint pink light shot up into the sky from just past the gardens in the back of the Kastilyo—another indicator that the portal's Master Key had been inserted.

She ran out of her room quickly, breaking out into a slow jog. She descended the small spiral set of steps that had led up to her bedroom door, but she paused at the last step. There, at the end of the royal quarter's hallway right before her bedroom hung a large portrait that was just a bit bigger than a door.

Her eyes scanned over the painted portrait. They roamed over a familiar pair of golden eyes that was so evidently not those of a human's. The man, if they could really call him that, had sharp and long pupils that could only resemble a cat. Despite his young facial features, he had long, white hair, and he was standing straight up with a beaming smile on his face. He was in front of the Kastilyo, it's exterior unmistakable. He was clad in a black robe with rose gold hems, signature to Estrelya. That painting had been in the castle for eons, a reminder of the era when magic still roamed the land. The Mage of Estrelya, as history would come to know him, a hero in history books that became more of a folklore than anything else. It was hard to believe in something people couldn't see. But for her, staring at the portrait made Lorelai feel a deep sense of connection, as if there was some personal bond between her and the one depicted

Despite being talked about in books and in school, aspects of him became more of a folklore. People found it hard to believe in the things he had done. It was hard to believe in something that one couldn't see—but the Portal Docks were standing proof that magic once roamed. The last remnant of it. The sole reminder.

There was no longer street entertainment from Mages filling up festivals and events, there was no more barrier surrounding castles, there were no longer magical potions to help with ailments and surgeries. There was no Mages helping with military efforts, helping with construction—there were no Mages. All because of built up prejudice and a mindset that they had an unfair advantage in life. All because some man in power liked being the one to hold it.

She walked towards it, clenching her fists tight, feeling a slight pain in her palm as her long nails dug into them. She stopped right in front of it, letting her fingers trail down the carved wooden frame around the canvas portrait.

Do I have time to go and... she wondered.

"Lorelai."

Snapping her head around, her entire body turned to face the voice. Amira stood at the end of the hallway in a new outfit from the one she wore during training. She wore the uniform of a Royal Guard in the royal colors of the Kingdom of Estrelya: black and rose gold, with an embroidered rose gold star on the biceps of her long sleeves. The star on her biceps had twelve points with a frilly design, six of the points pointed straight and six curved in a wave matter, and it was known as the royal symbol, or the Estrelya Star.

The broach that fastened the top of her shirt signified her ranking by what kind of star she had.

There were four guard rankings at the Kastilyo. A three pointed star symbolized an apprentice. A five pointed star was an official guard. A ten pointed star, similar to the royal symbol but with straight points, five longer and five smaller meant it was a member of the Royal Guard. Almost the same as the star for the Royal Guard, Special Assignment Royal Guards had one small adjustment in their broaches: a sword would pierce through the star.

Amira proudly wore the highest of the stars on her broach.

The hijab upon her head was black with rose gold trimmings as well, everything about her outfit screaming professional and elite. Amira looked badass in her uniform, and Lorelai was never quite able to get over how in awe she always was with her.

She pushed her glasses up on the bridge of her nose and said, "Callen's arriving."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

They walked briskly down the Glass Corridor, which was located at the very end of the west wing of the Kastilyo's second floor. It stretched from both ends of the front and back of the Kastilyo. Since it jutted out further than the main walls of the house, it had a small ceiling that was also made of glass.

From the Glass Corridor, Lorelai was able to see the Estrelya Portal Dock. It was built large enough to look like a door to nowhere when it wasn't on. Painted black with rose gold hems and frills, it also had a small ottoman sized control panel right next to it. On that panel was a circle dial that ranged from numbers 2-6 with a slot in the middle of the golden Master Key. Now that the key was inserted, the portal no longer looked like a door to nowhere. Instead, a pink glow formed inside of its empty space and shot up into the sky, fading the further up it went. The entire dock was on a white circular platform that had five small steps leading up to it.

Getting to the courtyard, the two briskly walked from the courtyard, out to the garden, around the side of the castle towards the Portal Dock. Lorelai couldn't help but notice how official everything felt—and yet there she was, in a simple brown sundress.

Guards lined up by the portal, her parents already waiting at the end of the string of guards, her mother's right hand woman, and a few other members of the royal cabinet. Sakura Icis, the Head of the Royal Guard and Chief Advisor to the Crown, stood at the end of the string of guards, closest to Queen Amor herself.

Queen Amor and King Jeune Bituin were clad in royal attire. Queen Amor in a rose gold dress with black lace and flourished hemlines, her crown sitting upon her curled black hair. King Jeune in a black long sleeve shirt and slacks with a rose gold tailcoat over the ensemble, his own crown upon his gelled back black hair.

Gorgeous and poised, like always, Lorelai believed. She saw the way the sunlight hit her parents' crowns, the reflection almost blinding. The King and Queen were truly breathtaking in every way to Lorelai.

As Lorelai looked around at those who had gathered, she realized she was the only one not formally dressed. She tried to reassure herself that there was no reason to have gotten all dolled up just to greet her childhood friends at the portal, but there was no mistaking that she stood out like a sore thumb.

A few aides materialized first, carrying suitcases with the Kingdom of Callen's royal emblem on them: a pastel purple colored outline of a mountain with what is meant to be a laelia orchid growing on top of it. The mountain represented the Callen Mountain, which their castle was built upon. The entire emblem was encircled in a thin, pastel purple line.

The first of the royal family to materialize out of the portal was Princess Daniella Laelia. The smile on Lorelai's face widened, as did her eyes, as she looked at the princess. Daniella had been one of her best friends all her life, but standing before her, Daniella looked almost completely different.

Her typically long blonde hair was now colored a dark blue. Her attire made Lorelai feel less out of place, as she was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, obviously not caring much for appearances. All she had to do was walk through a door, for crying out loud.

She threw up a peace sign with her fingers upon seeing Lorelai, making her way down the stairway to embrace her friend.

"Oh, my! Your hair!" exclaimed Lorelai, reaching to touch it. As she moved it, she realized she also had an undercut. "Damn! Your hair!"

Daniella laughed, motioning to the portal with her head as she said, "They're not exactly happy about it since it's 'right before the Ball,' but I really couldn't care less."

The Three Queens' Ball, an event held once every decade in honor of the alliance formed between Estrelya , Callen, and Chandrama, signed into place by three queens eons ago: Minorin of Estrelya, Azalea of Callen, and Riya of Chandrama.

It was the Kingdom of Estrelya's turn to host it at the Kastilyo, though the other two kingdoms were planned to arrive early enough to help with the arrangements.

The princesses and prince had been small children during the last time the Ball occurred; though, the only thing that seven year old Lorelai really remembered from the event was that it was long, loud, there was lots of food, and lots of traffic in the capital city.

The Ball itself was a national holiday in all three Kingdoms. For those who were able to make the journey to the host kingdom were able to attend, admittance free to all of their citizens. Local business owners were even able to request petitions to open booths along the passageway leading to the castles. The Ball always left the castle cities bustling with tourists, traffic filled streets, and every form of lodging fully booked. Despite the actual ball only being a day event, the month before and after was full of celebration. Those who traveled far made vacations out of the Holiday, so the castle cities stayed busy for quite some time.

Daniella linked an arm around Lorelai's, and turned to face the portal, watching as everyone else came out.

Out came Queen Adalaide and King Barry Laelia, walking down the steps hand in hand, King Barry slightly ahead of Queen Adalaide, helping her on their way down. Like Lorelai's parents, they were clad in their royal outfits, almost identical to Amor and Jeune's, but instead, in the lavender and silver of their own kingdoms.

Like her daughter—or at least until yesterday— Queen Adalaide had light blonde hair, while her husband's was a dark brown; it could be mistaken for black depending on the lighting. Standing next to each other, they looked as if they were day and night.

Lorelai couldn't help but think about how beautiful they were together.

The guards in the line had bowed down their heads for them as they walked over, and Amor stepped forward with a smile, arms open to embrace Adalaide. King Barry and Lorelai's own father stood off to the side with one another, pleasant smiles on their faces as they spoke in soft tones together.

"Thanks for the help, Dani," grumbled a voice from the top of the dock.

Attentions moved to the last person to exit the portal—the crowned prince himself, Elijah Laelia. He was a stark contrast to his baby sister in the same way their father contrasted their mother. His hair was short and black with onyx eyes, which put him aside from his sister and parents who all bore grey-blue ones.

The only similarity between the two siblings was their complexions: both of a light, warm beige. They didn't look like one another around the face, either. Elijah had inherited their father's high cheekbones with a rounded face, while Daniella's was more sculpted like their mother's.

He was clad in a black button up shirt with lavender buttons, unbuttoned to reveal a silver silky undershirt. His family's symbol was embroidered on the pocket over his right chest.

It didn't go unnoticed to Lorelai that Elijah tended to tie in his kingdom's royal colors into all of his outfits even when he wasn't dressed up, from the silver to the lavender in his attire, to the embroidery on his pocket. It was so very formal of him for a nineteen year old.

Lorelai almost never wore her family's royal colors outside of official events and meetings, despite how much she liked the colors black and rose gold together. Nor did she have the Kingdom of Estrelya's rose gold star embroidered on any of her casual clothes.

But she knew that in Elijah's defense, not that she would ever come to his defense, that this was just an example of how he oftentimes tried too hard to appear to be a perfect prince.

Elijah was carrying a few bags left behind by the aides when they descended the steps. The way he was glaring at his sister, one could only presume it was her bags.

"What a gentleman," Daniella teased him, staying stuck in her spot as Elijah wobbled down the stairs and across the path towards them. "Thanks, Eli."

He put them down with a huff and rolled his eyes. He merely nodded his head in Lorelai's direction, and the Princess responded in the same manner. Without exchanging any words with one another, Elijah's attention refocused on the two kings, making his way from the Princesses towards their fathers.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The arrival of the royals from the Kingdom of Chandrama happened only a few moments after Callen's. Their arrival was almost identical, with the only difference being the emblem on their suitcases. It showcased a golden full moon, which had white craters worked into its design, and a frilly letter C in the middle in white.

Lorelai and Amira had been ordered by Queen Amor to go to the kitchen and see if the meals being prepared were ready, and to meet in the garden for lunch. Lorelai had been disappointed that she had to miss the arrival of the crowned princess of Chandrama, and the last member of her Princess Trio: Kavina Chandra.

"The meal?" Prim Keirnan glanced behind herself. The Royal Chef, with her unruly red hair that was up attempting to stay in its hairnet, stopped paying attention to the steak she was searing in front of her. "I already had it sent to the garden dining table, love!"

"Oh, alright, thank you!" Lorelai smiled, turning abruptly on her heels, Amira in tow.

She glanced down at her dress and back to Amira's guard attire, a frown forming on her lips.

"Amira," Lorelai called, snapping her head in her guard's direction.

"Lorelai?" she responded, raising an eyebrow up at her.

"Am I underdressed?" Lorelai questioned, grabbing fistfulls of her dress and then letting it fall back down into place.

"As the crown princess of Estrelya greeting two allied kingdoms? Yes," nodded Amira, and Lorelai cringed. Then, she added, "But as a teenage girl waiting for her friends to come over? Nah." There was a small pause, in which Lorelai smiled at the response. "If only you could be a mere teenage girl."

Lorelai frowned again and used her elbow to softly nudge Amira, sticking her tongue out at her.

The two of them made their way to the second floor of the Kastilyo, well on their way to the exit out to the courtyard and garden. Their strides were quick paced, the clicks of their shoes echoing against whatever fancy material the Kastilyo floors were made of.

The two made it to the top of the staircase, reentering the Glass Corridor section of the large castle.

"Hey, Heartbreak Princess! Amira!"

The voice came from the other end of the Glass Corridor, and the two of them halted. They stared at the newcomer, waiting for them as they approached.

Actually, Amira stared at them, but Lorelai shot an icy glare in their direction, crossing her arms over her chest at the sound of a nickname that she found ridiculous. She wasn't a heartbreaker.

Amira bowed her head in respect, and Lorelai tore her attention away.

"Prince," Amira greeted, pulling her head back up.

"Elijah," Lorelai acknowledged him, but she didn't turn her head back in his direction.

Elijah looked away as well, and a stagnant silence fell over them.

Amira glanced between the two of them, letting out an undetectable sigh when she realized the two of them rather stare than say something.

"Heading to the garden, Prince Elijah?" Amira questioned him.

"Yes, ma'am," he responded with a nod.

"Good, you can accompany us," Amira said with a smirk, ignoring the glare Lorelai was shooting her. "Chef Prim said the food was already brought out."

"Wonderful," Elijah said politely.

The three of them resumed their walk, exiting the Glass Corridor and entering the same hallway that connected to the grand entrance and the entrance to the courtyard. They were met with the romantic architecture of the Kastilyo, with rose gold curtains and long, frilly windows with white gold trims, a white paint coating the interior. There were chandeliers hanging from the ceiling every few feet.

Outside of the grand entrance, which had been left open with guards standing on both sides, inside and outside, they could hear murmuring and see the flashing flight of cameras. Lorelai glanced at Elijah, who already had his eyes on her.

"Should we?" he asked, turning his head towards the door, as if to point at it.

She wasn't surprised with the change in atmosphere. She oftentimes let Elijah's attitude towards her dictate the attitude she would give back. He had his moments where he acted like one of her closest friends, but there were other days where he hardly even looked in her direction. She willing danced to his beat, though, deciding just going with it was easier than questioning why he did the things he did.

Like why did he insist of dressing the way he did? Why did he insist on talking so proper even if they were in a casual setting? Why did he insist on never dropping his guard?

"Might as well," she shrugged, a small smile on her face as she spoke.

Amira watched from behind as the prince and princess stepped into the opening of the Kastilyo's door, and just like that, the voices intensified into enthusiastic shouts.

There was a small group, likely tourists, standing outside of the gates, more guards stationed in front to keep people from attempting to enter or scale the fences. Still, there were people who liked to take photos in front of the Kastilyo, and others who kept up with the royal news and knew that the Callen and Chandrama royalty would be teleporting in. Most of them had probably seen the pink lights anyways.

Despite being behind a gate that was at the end of a path, they could make out the faces of the prince and princess.

As they were taught to, the pair stepped a few steps past the entrance and onto the entry steps, their best smiles plastered on their faces. Elijah bowed while Lorelai curtsied, the two of them waving before retreating back into the Kastilyo. The crowd cheered as they snapped photos of the two royals.

"We'll be getting more of that than usual this month," Elijah stated, smoothing out his shirt as they walked further through the main hallway, making a right at the entryway that led to the courtyard.

"Ah yes, your fangirls will be lined up outside the walls of my house like they always do during your visits," Lorelai teased him, falling out of her standoffish attitude from the staircase and right into her playful banner.

"At least I'm not breaking hearts left and right, hm, Heartbreak Princess?"

There was the nickname again. Elijah had given it to her when she was fifteen and he was seventeen after witnessing her reject the son of some aristocrat who had found themselves invited to Daniella's fifteenth birthday party over in Callen.

"Oh please, no one should be heartbroken over me not being interested."

"You'd be surprised," Elijah muttered in a whisper.

Lorelai snapped her head in his direction, sure he had said something but hadn't caught it.

Louder, he added, "You know how many girls in the kingdom would kill to be in your position, Lor?" Lor? "Constantly getting asked on dates by cute men—"

"If you think they're so cute, why don't you ask them out, Prince?" Amira cut him off, her tone monotonous even if she was poking fun at him.

Lorelai's hand went up to her mouth in an attempt to stifle a laugh, but she failed miserably. Elijah's cheeks heated up as he glared over at the guard, but he couldn't get mad at her. He, like the princesses, had formed a friendship with Amira over her years of employment at the castle, especially since the two of them were the same age.

"Back to what I was saying," Elijah grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest, choosing to ignore Amira's comment. "You get asked out all the time, and you get to hang out with me. You're living the dream life for most girls in our kingdoms."

Amira scoffed out a laugh before covering her mouth, better than the Princess at silencing her humor. Lorelai just looked at him as if he said the most ridiculous thing ever, her mouth ajar but lips curled up in a smile.

"You're unbelievable!" Lorelai chuckled, shaking her head. "Most girls in our kingdoms may have a little crush on you, but your ego is why you're single."

"Or because I choose to be."

"Oh, so you're lecturing me about rejecting people, yet claim to be rejecting most girls in our kingdoms?" she mocked him, using air quotes about the words he spoke. "Are you sure you're not the Heartbreak Prince?"

"Shut up."

"That's what I thought."

They made it across the courtyard towards the entrance to the gardens. Tropical plants entered their view, and the sound of a miniature waterfall pouring water into a small pond somewhere thin the greenery could be heard from all around.

Their banter ended as they got to the dining tables that were out in the garden. Enough tables and chairs were set up to seat not only the royal families, but their attendants that had arrived, and Estrelya 's royal cabinet as well. Upon the tables were white table clothes and trays of appetizers, made for a nice light lunch. Kavina was sitting with Daniella at a table with three seats available.

Lorelai squealed at the sight of her friend—and mentally sighed in relief when she saw that even Kavina hadn't dressed up, wearing a dark green shirt that complimented her darker complexion and ripped loose jeans, her wavy hair up in a bun. She ran over, hugging the other princess.

Amira and Elijah looked at each other at the sight in front of them before shaking their heads and heading over to take the other two free seats. Lorelai couldn't help but smile, excited for the planning and preparing for the Ball that would be approaching, and for the time she'd be able to spend as a mere teenage girl with her friends.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/N: welcome to book one of the original series I've been working on for the past year! I currently have 10 of the chapters written, but I want to know your guys' thoughts before bringing in the rest of the chapters I have ready!

also available on my wattpad

general works taglist:

@yaskna @mariishat @misssugarless @drarrylov3r @luluwiie@laudthingcat @walecznypisarz @bubblywriter0 @superhermit@chloflower-blog @dummies-world

#the heartbreak princess #despressolattes; the heartbreak princess #founders' council chronicles #young adult fantasy #young adult fiction #young adult romance #teen romance #teen fiction #teen fantasy #despressolattes; original seriews #original series #depressolattes; original works

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greenandhazy · 4 years

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i read your recent fic, wrote up a big thing and then ao3 wouldnt let me comment so here you go: p1) you are truly doing what is needed for the good of this fandom. i've scene some gender bend abed but never hijabi (which is a nice touch for diversity i think

p2) i particularly like the line jess has in reponce to psych of gender changing brittons life ("not noticably" LMAO ROAST HIM) bc its clearly paralleling how britta called jeff out in canon but is still very in character for jeff/jess and their sarcastic methods. . i liked shermon a lot. you did a good job of maintaining shirley religiousity but at the right level (slightly old fashioned and annoying but well intentioned)

p3) i liked shermon a lot. you did a good job of maintaining shirley religiousity but at the right level (slightly old fashioned and annoying but well intentioned) when i think often time male religious characters end up being more intense in a way that seems very bigoted and kinda villainous. It would have made me sad to shirley get that character treatment, so im glad you didnt

p4) troy-tory's perspective in this was really nice. often trobed is done from abeds POV so i like the switch. The way you maintained troys internalized homophobia was really well done, especially how you also maintained troys more """masculine"" traits (like his athleticism). the line at the begining about how pitching in softball is "the straight position" kinda made me laugh a little, but i also really felt for tory bending over backwards to maintain her heterosexual persona.

p5) a small detail but one of my faves. and the little arc about tory's hair was fun ! I like the idea of gender bend troy with box braids alot

Oh man, this is such a lovely comment! I want to reply to a bunch of different things and I can already tell it’s going to get rambly so I’m going to put it under a cut:

Yeah so in general I have a lot of Thoughts and Opinions on religion and how religion is treated in fiction. I think in a lot of fanfic, religious tends to be pretty black and white--people are either A) Super Religious or Not Religious, and then either B) Good or Bad. And I think in canon Shirley doesn’t fall into those categories. She definitely makes homophobic and antisemitic statements, but she still genuinely loves her friends and is overall kind, and I think her kindness is more of an essential character trait than her bigotry.

also, w/r/t to hijabi Abed--I’m Jewish and I think a lot of nonreligious or Christian people kind of assume that people who aren’t super religious about Judaism don’t participate in the religion at all aside from maybe Hanukkah (cough like Annie in the show cough) and that’s often not true! for people in minority religions in the US, culture and religion are intertwined and it’s very common for people to keep some customs--like, maybe you don’t eat kosher all the way, but you do abstain from pork, maybe you don’t go to synagogue services but you do light candles at home, etc. And I think Abed does the same thing. Is he devout enough to pray five times a day and abstain from all alcohol all the time and only eat meat that’s been halal slaughtered? Probably not. But in canon he doesn’t drink frequently, and I think a genderbent Abed would see wearing a hijab as something that’s (relatively) low effort and high reward in terms of making her feel connected to her heritage without requiring a lot of time or effort or making her stop doing something she loves.

maybe my high school was weird this way, but the whole “male athletes and female cheerleaders are the popular ones” stereotype was really not a thing? I mean, I also don’t think there was one way to be popular in my school, but to the extent there was a “popular” group, it was athletes as a whole. the prom queen and homecoming queen my senior year of high school were a basketball player and a soccer player, respectively, and yeah, I think sports fits Troy’s personality better than cheerleading even if we are swapping genders.

I had a friend in college who mostly wore her hair short like Troy’s but would get box braids done for special occasions and usually kept them in for a while afterwards, so that was the inspiration for that moment--in general, I got my headcanon favorite hairstyle for lady Troy from watching Van in Atlanta (1, 2). Hair texture isn’t quite the same but still, she always looks cute as hell.

#Anonymous

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logicalbookthief · 5 years

Text

Game Night

So I actually had most of this written before 15x18, and then the episode gave us great Maggie + B team moments, so I figured, well, now I have to deliver.

Featuring drunk interns, Schmico, canon-compliant Jaggie (barely but for the sake of, yanno, canon) and teeny-tiny hints to potential future Caggie because @schmicoismysunsword has convinced me it ships.

Now cross-posted on ao3!

Maggie doesn’t make a habit of mixing her professional life with her personal one. Aside from the fact that her sisters work at the same hospital as she does, as does her boyfriend, and her ex-- Look, the point is, Maggie tries to keep her private life a private one, albeit not with the passion of Dr. Bailey.

Just -- she has the unfortunate tendency to babble. Aloud. To anyone nearby, who might be listening.

Which meant unintentionally venting to interns, who were always around, and always eager to listen. It starts with Parker, who, if not sworn to secrecy, at least has the decency to pretend he isn’t hanging off every word that comes out of her mouth. Schmitt is one of the more eager of the bunch and he happens to be on her service today.

“Game night,” she mutters long-sufferingly. “Why tonight, when Meredith and Amelia are busy, and apparently, I don’t have enough of a life where I have any excuse to be somewhere else.”

“Oh, right, the football game is tonight. Nic-- Dr. Kim mentioned that was a thing-- a thing Dr. Avery does,” Schmitt stutters, casting some furtive, flustered looks her way. Honestly, Maggie isn’t paying attention.

“I hate when I have to pretend to care about sports on TV. You know what else is on tonight? The Magicians. But you don’t see me making a night of it with friends.” Not that she has any, apparently. At least, any without kids or prior commitments.

Maggie deflates, more self-conscious than she means to be. “April enjoyed watching sports. Or maybe she was better at pretending than I am...”

Something dejected in her tone must spark a bit of nerve in Schmitt, who clears his throat. “Hey, you could -- uh, you could come out with us tonight,” he says, shrinking a bit under her stare. “Uh, if you wanted.”

“Us?” she echoes critically.

“Oh, um, well there’s me, Doctors Helm, Qadri, Parker--” All interns, Maggie mentally concludes, at the exact moment Schmitt realizes he’s asking an attending to tag along with his friends.

“Never mind, it--” Finding an extra burst of nerve, Schmitt spews out in a rush, “It’s trivia night at this pub we like and you’d make a great ringer.”

Then he goes on ahead to the next patient on their rounds, as Maggie blinks. Has she sunk so low to consider to hanging out with a couple of kids?

Except, she thinks with a wince, that sounds exactly like something Kiki would’ve said to her. After all, it isn’t as if the interns are that much younger than she is. Maggie’s so far ahead it only feels that way. She was always the kid to talk to the adults rather than friends her own age. And when she attended her first year of medical school still in braces while her peers were all adults, she had no choice but to grow up fast.

Sacrificing one night of professional integrity probably wouldn’t tarnish her career forever. And a trivia night is exactly the sort of brain flexing she would prefer over an evening of her male coworkers yelling about a ball not making it over the right line.

“What happens outside of the hospital, stays outside of the hospital,” Maggie springs on a stunned Schmitt, ending any further discussion with a firm glance. “I’ll be there at 7.”

“Dr. Pierce, if you don’t mind me saying so,” Qadri begins, and then, with the utmost reverence, “You fucking rock at trivia.”

Schmitt and Parker whoop in agreement.

“I do,” Maggie asserts, flushed with victory. And it’s probably the jalapeno poppers, too.

“I can’t believe you argued with the guy asking the questions,” Schmitt admits. “And you won.”

“Well, if you don’t have an encyclopedia knowledge of Happy Potter,” she preens. “Don’t try me.”

Helm returns with the celebratory round of shots, including one for her. Is it unethical to take shots with your interns? While on the clock, yes, definitely. Then again, it’s a little unethical to sleep with interns, too, and yet--

Maggie downs the shot.

Parker hisses as the burn of alcohol slides down his throat. “I need at least three more of those after the study session I pulled last night,” he says, winded.

“Right, your intern exams are coming up.” A swell of fondness rises in her chest as she remembers toiling over her textbooks, the ease of assessment, the pride of passing with high marks. “You guys excited?”

A chorus of groans answers her question. Oh, right. Not everyone was a child prodigy who gloried in tests. Maggie flinches and figures to hell with it, she’s already in this deep. She orders the next round of shots.

“I’ve read so much I wore out my contacts,” Schmitt mumbles, his cheek plastered against the table.

“Did you fall asleep wearing them again?” Taryn huffs at his miserable nod. “Dude, you’re going to go blind.”

“And fail your exam,” Parker adds, prompting another groan.

Maggie has the weird urge to pat his head consolingly. Luckily, Qadri does it instead. “At least if you fail you have a hot surgeon boyfriend to support you,” she mutters enviously.

“You could be a house-husband,” Helm proposes, raising her glass at Maggie and Qadri. “Because it’s 2019 and that’s equality.”

Schmitt seems to consider this seriously.

“You wouldn’t have to shave fish,” Qadri tacks on, wrinkling her nose. “No offense.”

It takes a full minute for Maggie to realize the remark is directed at her. “Oh! None taken,” she says quickly. “I take no responsibility for that exercise. Or the smell.”

“Which still hasn’t come out of my hijab,” Qadri mourns. Seeing Qadri look any amount of sad, Maggie decides suddenly, should be a crime listed under do no harm.

“I’m sorry,” she offers. “I’ll make Jackson buy you a new one!”

For some reason, that sets them into a fit of giggles.

“Drunk Dr. Pierce is the best,” Parker declares, and then blushes, bright and splotchy. “Except for, uh, sober Dr. Pierce. She’s the most wonderful, uh--”

“Careful, don’t hurt yourself,” says Helm, wryly.

“Sober Dr. Pierce would be at home, pretending to care about sports,” Maggie scoffs.

“With Link, Dr. Avery and Dr. Kim?” Dahlia grins. “Sounds like a dream.”

“Pretty sure we’ve all had that dream,” Levi snorts.

“Uh, hello?” Helm pulls a face, jerking a thumb at herself. “Lesbian.”

“Everyone except Taryn has probably had that dream,” he amends.

“Her, and me,” Maggie says blandly. Alcohol loosens her tongue almost as much as bullies and outrage. “As if our free time isn’t limited enough by his projects, and my environmental research, now Jackson’s gone and bonded with his new buddy Link, who loves sports, and camping, and nature, and -- bikes, I guess?”

“Nico says Link’s got a man-crush on Dr. Avery,” Schmitt whispers in what’s not really a whisper. Parker snorts messily into his drink, which she finds weirdly endearing.

“Please tell me Kim also has one of those secret bro handshakes with Link?” Maggie begs.

Schmitt nods. “Yeah, no, they do. He tried to show me it once, but I, um, accidently hit his chin with my open palm.”

Fits of laughter overcome the group while Schmitt flushes. “Aw. Did you kiss it better?” Parker wheedles.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” says Schmitt, tight-lipped.

“You do so,” Helm snorts, shoving him in the chest.

“Hey,” says Qadri, noting how Maggie’s spaced out. “At least if he’s watching sports and -- I dunno, crushing beer cans? -- with Dr. Link and Levi’s ortho god, then you don’t have to act like you want to hear about baseball.”

“Football,” Parker corrects.

“There’s a difference?” Qadri wonders.

Maggie would try to answer, except the implication has finally sunk in. “His ortho god?” she asks, gesturing skeptically at Schmitt.

“Yuh huh. Dr. Kim is his boyfriend,” Helm shares with relish.

“Oh!” What she means to say is congrats, yet what emerges is a clumsy, “Wow. Good job.”

Schmitt only shrugs. “I don’t know how,” he confesses in a slightly dazed tone. “Sometimes I think I died in that freak windstorm and this is just the last of my synapses firing off one last wet dream.”

“Dude, that’s dark,” Parker murmurs.

“I haven’t slept or had sex in...” Schmitt pauses, clearly wracking his brain. “What’s today?”

“Preaching to the choir,” Maggie mutters. Huh, maybe that has something to do with her mood.

“Oh, God,” Dahlia exclaims, as if she just cracked the code. “What if that’s why. What if Link is sleeping with Dr. Avery??”

Parker nods sagely. “That makes sense.”

“Oh, God,” Maggie echoes. After a couple shots of tequila, the theory seems totally plausible. “Oh, no, what do I--”

“Don’t worry,” Schmitt interjects, radiating a suspicious amount of calm. “Link is too busy fooling around with Dr. Shepperd to sleep with your boyfriend.”

Maggie exhales in relief. Then it dawns on her, what he actually said. “Wait,” she yelps. “What? He’s sleeping with my sister?”

Schmitt blinks. “You didn’t know?”

“No, I didn’t know!” Maggie gapes. “How did you know?!”

“He’s fucking the other ortho god,” Helm and Qadri chime in.

“Right,” says Maggie, slowly and with effort. “Right, okay, I’ve got to remember that detail for tomorrow. So maybe, only … one more round of shots?”

Helm’s eyes light up. “Dr. Pierce is the coolest,” she declares, and the rest unanimously agree.

Maggie Pierce has never been named the coolest anything -- the most impressive, sure, and the most talented by far -- so she can’t help the thrill that shoots through her, headier than any glass of alcohol.

“We’re taking a Lyft.” Parker has emerged as de-facto leader of the drunk brigade, voted in as least likely to order an axe-murderer for a driver. “Levi, you in?”

Schmitt shakes his head, wincing as it jostles his precarious balance. “Nico said he would pick me up if I wanted.”

Helm snickers. “House-husband,” she sing-songs at him.

“Breadwinner,” Schmitt fires back. Neither of these are insults, Maggie notes, uncertain if she should point this out.

“Ma--” Parker catches himself with another blush. “Dr. Pierce, do you, uh, need a ride?”

“Hey!” Schmitt says like he’s had a full-on brainblast. “You can wait with me and Nico can get you, too.”

“Really?” Maggie perks. It saved her the trouble of calling anyone liable to embarrass her; namely, either of her sisters or worse, Karev. “That would be fantastic.”

“Sure, he’s already at Jackson’s place,” Schmitt replies confidently. If she were slightly more sober, Maggie doubts that logic would hold up to scrutiny. As it is, it makes perfect sense to wait for Schmitt’s ortho god to drop her off at the place he drove in from.

Turns out, Dr. Kim is a sexy sight to behold, even with a proprietary arm wrapped around Schmitt, who’s too busy mumbling grateful nonsense into his shoulder to notice the adoration in his boyfriend’s gaze.

If he is surprised to catch Maggie in a similar state of inebriation, Kim has the decency to make no mention of this. Instantly, he’s her new favorite attending-level doctor. He is also a gentleman, offering Maggie his hand as she clamors into the backseat of his car, all the while still steadying Schmitt with a hand clasped over his waist.

Maggie marvels at the coordination and strength, wonders if he could carry them both simultaneously, should the need arise.

“He’s awesome at carrying people,” Schmitt brags, meaning that, whoops, she said that aloud.

Kim chuckles. “Thanks, babe,” he says, wryly. “But at the risk of oversharing, maybe don’t go into detail.”

“What, that it’s a sex thing?” Schmitt says in what he clearly believes is a whisper for their ears only, before he collapses back onto the seat, supremely self-satisfied. At exactly the same volume, he adds, “See? I can be discreet.”

“Great job,” Kim snorts, unimpressed. And yet unable to resist pressing a kiss into his boyfriend’s brow before he starts up the engine. They’re cute, Maggie thinks blearily, and hopes she managed to keep the thought inside her head.

Judging by the grin Kim shoots her out of the corner of his eye, she probably didn’t succeed.

Jackson looks surprised to see Nico at his door again, not that long after he left. “Hey, man. Did you forget something?”

“Nope,” says Nico, cheerily. “Just doing a drop-off.”

“You--” Jackson stares in bewilderment, until Nico moves aside, allowing his passenger to sidestep his bulk. “Mags?”

Maggie stumbles to the door, using one of his sturdy biceps for balance. “Thanks for the lift, Kim,” she waves over her shoulder.

He nods, still smirking as he walks back to his car, away from the bewildered Jackson.

“Mags, are you -- you good?” He hovers close behind as she carefully navigates the stairs, forgoing the temptation of the couch for the queen-sized bed.

“I,” Maggie begins, slurring with great dignity. “Fucking rock at trivia.”

The morning-after is almost worth the hangover. Watching Jackson try to puzzle out what she got up to last night -- and exactly how Dr. Kim fits into the picture -- is too funny, since Maggie deigns to tell him only the bare minimum, lest she look as silly as she feels when she walks into work with a lingering stuffiness.

“Wow. You look as though you need at least a double-shot,” says a familiar voice, rippling with sympathy, but also a fair bit of humor. “Good thing I got you a triple.”

Maggie stares blankly at Kim and at the to-go cup suddenly placed in her hands. Truly he is a kind and benevolent ortho god. “What’s this for?”

Kim grins. “Last night my boyfriend went on about how cool Dr. Pierce was, and how hungover you’d be, and that it was his fault,” he explains, obviously quite amused. “And this morning he groggily demanded I make amends by being especially nice to you this morning. Hence, coffee.”

“That is--” A level of thoughtfulness that made all boyfriends, including her own, seem like total jackasses in comparison. Nico smirks as if he knows exactly what she’s thinking and enjoys the high ground very much. “So unnecessarily sweet. Thank you.”

“No problem,” he says, and leans in, a sheepish twitch to his unfaltering smile. “I’d also appreciate if he didn’t get fired over whatever you may or may not have heard last night.”

Maggie laughs.

“Honestly, I’ve forgotten a decent amount already,” she admits, for the sake of all three of them. “Except the part about Dr. Link and my sister?”

Kim chokes on his sip of coffee. “Ah, you didn’t hear that from me.”

“No, I heard that from your drunk boyfriend,” she replies, picking up the pace to follow his long strides. “But I absolutely need to hear more from you!”

At his reluctance, Maggie pulls out her trump card. “I’ll buy you a bagel.”

Nico stops to considers her. “Multigrain, veggie cream cheese?”

Evidently, Kim has a price. Maggie appreciates in someone who is still, until further notice, her favorite attending.

Petition for more of what 15x18 gave us with Maggie and the interns? And for Maggie and Nico to become friends?? Hire me Grey’s

#schmico #schmico fic #maggie pierce #levi schmitt #nico kim #b team #grey's anatomy #taryn helm #casey parker #dahlia qadri

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padfootagain · 5 years

Text

Welcome To Hell (II)

Part 2 : Demon In Black

Here comes a second part for this Logan fic! I hope you all like it :)

Demon! Logan is brilliant… I'm having so much fun with him!

Gif not mine

Word Count : 2231

"What the hell is happening around here?"

"Y/N, I can explain…"

"Oh, can you now?"

"Y/N, don't be angry."

"I can't believe you didn't warn me about this."

You put down the flowers in their basket, reorganizing the gerberas before passing to the lilies. Pink flowers next to orange ones.

You heaved a tired sigh. Of course, your best friend (and associate) would not tell you if your ex fiancé dropped by. Of course…

"You should have told me he was here!" you protested again.

"What would have been the use to that?" Ahlem replied with a shrug while she readjusted the red roses.

"To warn me? To just… tell me! He's my ex!"

"The man was a jerk, don't act like he wasn't."

"He wasn't just a jerk."

She heaved a sigh, shaking her head.

"This is ridiculous. He treated you so badly when the two of you broke up…"

"I did break his heart," you replied.

"This wedding would have been a catastrophe and you were right to put an end to it."

Ahlem check the time and headed back inside to officially open the flower shop for the day. She readjusted her hijab before helping you moving a rather large palm tree. Your palm tree. It wasn't for sail, you just adored the plant. You had planted it with you ex actually, and now that the memory came back to you, you looked at the tree with a perplex expression.

"Anyway, he's gone now, I sent him away. And that's for the best."

"What did he even want? Did he tell you?"

You noticed immediately the nervous way she tugged at her apron, although Ahlem shook her head in denial.

"Ahlem…"

"What? He didn't say."

"You're lying!"

"I'm not lying!"

"Yes, you are!"

"I am not…"

"Pinocchio, your nose is showing!"

She rolled her eyes, but didn't dare to deny the truth again. Instead, she remained silent. You heaved a frustrated sigh.

"Why won't you tell me?"

"Because there's no need to make you sad," she earnestly answered, and you couldn't manage to be mad at her anymore.

So instead of insisting, you patted her shoulder.

"Next time, do tell me he was here, okay?"

She nodded, and you exchanged a smiled. After all, she just wanted to protect you. The same way you would have protected her. But the news of your ex being back in town was not exactly what you would have defined as a good way to start the day.

The young morning was bathing San Francisco in light that still contained traces of the golden glimmer of dawn. The streets were already filled with people hurrying to work, cars honking and children shouting as they walked to school. Before you walked back into your shop, you took a couple of steps in the street, watching the sun shining on the bay. You were lucky to live in one of these streets from which you could see the water glimmering in the distance. These endless streets that looked like they would never stop climbing had at least this advantage of having a nice view. And the long road of Pierce Street was one of them. Across the street, Mrs. Princeton was giving water to her impressive collection of geraniums, that she had placed on the edges of her windows, decorating her large white house. You waved at the old lady as she appeared at a new window, and you could see the giggle on her lips as she waved back at you. You turned back towards the red brick walls of your shop, but were stopped by the sound of very loud laughs coming from your left, and you had to turn towards the source of such a noise.

Behind you, the Alta Plaza Park stretched its grass still shimmering from the morning dew. You recognized the two boys who were laughing as they ran down the few steps that separated the inside of the park and Jackson Street.

"Lorenzo! David! Be careful!" you admonished as they pushed each other playfully, still running down the stairs and jumping above the last step.

"Yes, Y/N!" they chanted, but didn't slow down.

"One day one of you will fall and I won't be the one to take you to the hospital for a broken arm!" you warned them, but they merely laughed at you.

They crossed the street to reach you and give you a hug. Every morning and every afternoon they passed before your shop on their way to school, their parents living on Clay Street, on the other side of the park. The two twelve-year-old boys were adorable. They often came to your shop after school and helped you out a little, or merely stole all the biscuits and chocolate that you kept in the drawer of your desk. After all, you were friends with their parents, and the four of them knew very well that if they wanted to find their boys, they merely had to cross the park and come to your shop.

"Be good today!" you went on in that same motherly tone.

"We're always good!" Lorenzo protested, and you playfully messed up his dark hair in response.

"Of course you're not! Little devils!"

"But that's why you love us," David replied with a cocky smile, and you couldn't refrain a bright laugh.

"That's quite true…" you admitted. "Now, off you go, or you'll be late to school."

"Have you received these new flowers you were expecting?" Lorenzo asked, ignoring your order.

"I have," you nodded with an excited smile. "This very morning. I'll show you this afternoon after school. Deal?"

"Cool!" the two children excitedly answered, before giving you a high five and running down the street.

"And be careful!" you admonished from afar, but they ignored you again.

Ahlem walked out of the shop, chuckling.

"Well… you know that you're not their mother, right?" she teased you, and you merely ordered her to shut up in response.

And she doubled with laughter.

You heaved a dramatic sigh, walking back in your shop filled with love and flowers.

This shop… you had dreamt about it since you were a child. And for six years it had been filling your life with happiness. It was your dream coming true.

A smile formed on your lips at the thought.

After all, your life was quite good indeed.

At least… for now…

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

"And then my grandson was looking for the spoons, and he was opening all the drawers in hurry like he was fulfilling an important mission… and all the while the cat was looking at the birthday cake and I was certain that the cake would not survive that bloody cat! But after finally finding a spoon, Paul turned back towards the cake, and he noticed the cat sitting on the edge of the table and staring at the food, and he looked at me with his big black eyes, you know… and with a very serious face he pointed at the cat and asked 'bad cat?'"

You and Mrs. Princeton laughed hard, and you heard Ahlem chuckling as well as she brought some tea for the three of you.

"In the end, I pushed the cat away, but for the rest of the evening, Paul kept on repeating 'bad cat' everytime he was coming near the table."

The old woman let out a loud wave of laughter and you soon joined her.

"He's adorable," you nodded before drinking a gulp of hot tea.

"He is, he is," she nodded with so much love eyes in her dark eyes.

The afternoon was stretching into a lazy sunny day. Around 3 pm there weren't so many customers for your shop, as usual. It would become busier as people would come home from work. You weren't complaining though. The calm allowed you to take a cup of tea with your neighbour every day. Her long, black fingers wrapped around the cup with a little shakiness in them that came with old age, but she was such a witty and kind woman, she didn't act like her age, that was for certain. And on many subjects, she had a benevolence and an open mind that some younger adults lacked these days. You felt so lucky to count her as your friend…

You were interrupted as the little bell above the front door of the flower shop rang, and you stood up in a hurry.

"Do you want me to deal with that client?" Ahlem kindly proposed, but you shook your head.

"Enjoy your tea, I'll be back in a sec."

You walked through the back room and to the main shop to attend to this new customer of yours. You discovered there, lost in the hibiscus section, a tall woman, blond, blue eyes, and extremely beautiful. You could only acknowledge that. A shame that she wore such a condescending expression on her attractive features.

"Hello," you welcomed her with a bright smile. "How can I help you?"

"Are you the owner of the shop? Y/N Y/L/N?"

You nodded in affirmation.

"Well, I was looking for you actually," she gave you a pinched smile. "I am going to get married in a couple of weeks, and I would need someone to take care of the flowers. You came as highly recommended."

"Congratulations!" you grinned. "Of course, I would be happy to help! Would you like to set an appointment so we can talk in detail about what you would like and what I can do for you? Or do you have the time now?"

"Oh, no, not now… I'm expected somewhere. But perhaps I could come back tomorrow? 2 pm?"

"Perfect, yes. I'm sure we can find something that will make you happy. Will your fiancé be attending too?"

"I will see with him if he is available."

"Well, I'll see you again tomorrow then… but if I may ask… who recommended my shop to you?"

"My fiancé, actually! He is… well acquainted with your business."

"Oh, really? You… you live in the neighbourhood?"

"He used to. And he was adamant at having you taking care of the floral arrangements."

"For how long have you two been together?"

"Two months… I know, it's not so much time, but… when you know, you know."

"It's beautiful, actually! You must really love each other a lot."

"We do."

She checked her very expensive watch and gave you another one of her blank smiles.

"I have to go, but I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yes, have a great day."

The blond woman walked out of the shop and into the street. The bright California sun was so hot on her skin. She put on her Ray Ban sunglasses, and walked with an energetic pace towards the tiny park on her right. She climbed up the few steps to enter the space filled with grass and trees. She ignored the children laughing and the couples kissing. Instead, she headed straight for a bench where a man all dressed in black was sitting.

Logan welcomed his colleague with a smile.

"So?" he asked with a toothy smile.

"Tomorrow, 2 pm," Natasha answered with a content smile as she sat down by Logan's side.

"Brilliant."

"You were right about her… she is… disgustingly kind."

"Isn't she?"

"That's a challenge to make her turn."

"I love challenges. And my plan is brilliant, it'll work."

Of course, it would work. After a month spent studying you and your habits, he knew exactly how to destroy your world in such a way that you would sign anything to get it all back. After a month watching you, he had developed his plan. He had needed two more months to allow Natasha to seduce the pawn that would be used for his first move against you. And now, after three months of hard work, everything was finally ready. And he couldn't wait to win this battle.

"She asked me who had recommended her shop," Natasha chuckled with a cruel tone in her voice.

"You didn't tell her, did you?" Logan frowned.

"Of course not. I mean, I merely told her that my fiancé knew her shop. I can't wait to be tomorrow to see the look on her face when her ex passes through that door with me."

"I'm glad to see that you enjoy your role in this game of mine."

"Simon is a beautiful man, how could I not enjoy it? Breaking the hearts of attractive men… there's no more delightful activity after all."

"Poor thing…"

They both laughed.

"After tomorrow, she'll be broken-hearted," Logan smiled. "And she will need a knight in shining armour."

"Or well, in your case… a demon in black," Natasha chuckled.

"Indeed. And once I'm in… it'll all be done quickly."

"I hope so. If you fail this mission, your neck might be in danger."

"I've never failed."

"I would miss you if Joshua was forced to break your skull."

"Me? Really?" Logan raised a surprised eyebrow.

"Well, when I say you, I mean sex with you, obviously."

"Now, that sounds more like the Natasha that I know: ruthless, heartless and always ready to have a great time."

"I can't wait to see her little bubble of happiness explode. So much good makes me sick."

Logan let a smile form on his lips as he leaned against the back of the bench, turning his face towards the warm sun, and closing his eyes behind his dark sunglasses.

"Oh, don't worry. The bubble will explode indeed…"

*********************************

Tag list : ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet @notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky @snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity @i-padfootblack-things @presstocontinue @ilmiopiccolounivers0 @madamrogers @drinix @sad-orange-thoughts @mxrihollxd @geeksareunique @giggleberts @sad-orange-thoughts @benbarnes-world @ladyblablabla @madamrogers @drinix @joelynnp @mxrihollxnd @rockintensse @newtstarmander @whovianayesha @raquelbc2003 @millionsleeplessnights

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dayshasource · 4 years

Text

Shaping the World and Young Women.

Born atheist, but converted to Islam, G. Willow Wilson the author of Ms. Marvel spoke to students, and faculty about her comic book last Wednesday at Moraine Valley community college in which she spoke about her conversion, and why she chose to write about a Pakistani Muslim girl named Kamala Khan that has polymorphism.

Wilson is an atheist born but converted to Islam who was asked by Marvel writers to create a comic about a Muslim girl with polymorphism. Polymorphism is the power to transform and reshape the form of one's body. Being that Khan is Pakistani, shown as a hero is different because she is the only Muslim superhero in the marvel cinematic universe, so she is a different kind of superhero who shows different groups of people that they can to be heroes.

On Apr 10. at noon inside the theater of the F building, which moraine doesn’t host their book events there often, “At the fine and performing arts center, we seldom offer these types of book or author events. Those are most often curated by the library. This specific event, however, was a collaboration with the library and because Wilson is so well-known, we felt that the theater was a better venue to accommodate larger audiences,” says Tommy Hensel who is the managing director of the one and performing arts center.

I asked him what are these events called and why they host them, “every year, the library picks one text and creates a year-long series of events called ‘One Book/One college.’ For this academic year, they picked the “ms. marvel” graphic novels by Willson. That choice was part of a collaboration with the fine and performing arts center and a program we have been running called ‘Mosaics: Muslim Voices in America.’ That program was funded by a grant from the Association of Performing Arts Professionals for the Building Bridges: Arts, Culture and Identity program. Moraine Valley, along with one consortium and three other individual organizations, received funding to build knowledge, and appreciation for arts and culture with roots in Muslim-majority societies. This grant program is supported by the Doris Duke Charitable Foundation, and the Doris Duke Foundation for Islamic Art, and helps support mission-critical projects that demonstrate the power of the arts to strengthen communities and increase intercultural understanding across America. Moraine Valley’s specific project is titled Mosaics: Muslim Voices in America and our focus is to highlight the artistic and cultural diversity of Muslim artists living and working in the United States.” Hensel says which is amazing because there were so many young Muslim students at the event that day, mostly women, who are most likely inspired by her writing and the storyline.

One woman was a fan of the marvel comics, which was obvious because she wore her captain marvel shirt which is a new movie that just been released in March which finally got one billion in the box office. She is the first woman in the Marvel cinematic universe to have her own movie and to reach one billion ticket sales.

The event was located in the Dorothy Menker Theater. I and my friend Ana decided to sit in the front. Behind us was a class from Argo High School. There were at least 20 students apart from that class and about 40 people overall in the theater. To my right was an interpreter signing for a few deaf students, and to my left was a group of professors and equational the cameraman would jump on stage and snap photos. After waiting for ten minutes Wilson took the stage. I couldn’t fully tell what she had on, because she was behind the podium but I caught the sight of her hijab which was white and Hensel announced his thanks to everyone for being there and did an intro before he walked off stage to give Wilson the room. The screen above us had the book cover which I’ve noticed. Wilson’s family were atheists so she wasn’t raised in a religious household. She thought about converting to Islam because as a teen she was so invested in religion and reading a lot about it and when she was in college she was exposed to it as well, but since 9/11, it set her back from doing so. “Is this is? Are they right and I’m wrong?” She says. After graduating she moved to Egypt to teach English and she finally converted. Since then the audience seemed very interested in what she had to say. A group of young Muslim girls that go to moraine came to get a closer to listen. Everyone was now focused on her as she spoke lively about her new life. “It was very much a matter of kind of living a double life for a time and not reviewing bits of me to the people I love the most and I’m feeling really guilty about it and guilty about feeling like some kind of betrayal by taking this radical departure from the life that is expected of me and I wrestled with it for a long time but coming to a place where I can talk about it with the people I love is something that helped,” Wilson says as I looked around, and see people’s elbows were on their legs, they were pushed forward trying to listen closely to the story on how she went from atheist to Muslim. A few years after Marvel came to her to start the idea to write a comic about a Muslim superhero.

At the time she didn’t know what the Khan background is going to be what costume she was going to wear and what her powers she is going to have.

“Your story is about belonging,” Sanaa Omna says her to help her get a sense of how Khan's storyline will go. “I was interested in making her power something more kinetic, something more visually interesting something that wasn’t necessarily pretty and sparkly but with more visceral that was kind of weird.” So that’s when she settled on polymorphism. She can become really big, really small and she can bend the laws of physics.

She brings up how she relates to Khan and the other characters in her own way since she never grew up with being Muslim and also that she’s white and not brown.

“I think all of us in our teenage years are trying to figure out who we are in relation to the people around us. Trying to cycle all your life and keep a major development away from your parents and people you grew up with and I think that almost feels like more and the way handled her superpowers from anything else not that I view as converting religion as getting superpowers if so that would be awesome. But that feeling was very well known to me I have the secret I don’t have to tell I don't know if it’s a bad thing, something I should share this with people, I don’t know how to feel about it. So that way she deals with her superpowers and who do she tells and who she not tell is me trying to be right in vitally context by Omni stories and by the things she felt were important to include and that was the matter of making myself quiet and not bring myself into the stories except as a sidekick you know there is a lot of me in Bruno, there is a lot of me in Zoey I felt like it was important to have those characters there.”

At the time when Marvel asked her write the comic Wilson got very shocked and it came out of nowhere. “I got a call from Omna who at that point was an editor from X men, authors, at marvel comics and I met with her briefly we had lunch with a mutual friend and kinda empathized with each other because at that point we were the only two Muslim women working The entire mainstream American superhero industry just us and we haven’t spoken since then so I was not expecting that call much less was I expecting her to say so we had this idea we want to create a new American Muslim superhero on her own ongoing book and we would like you to help develop his character,” Wilson says as one of the professors pulled out her phone and started recording, “that’s utter madness, I had at that point my relatively short career in comics accrued already a certain number of threats from some serious, some not for writing that hadn't nothing to with religion with politics with anything that can be considered remotely controversial and write two entirely unremarkable fill-in issues on superman and get threats,” she finishes. Wilson went on to speak about her challenges writing the story.

“We almost romanticize the idea that if you are under a threat you must have said something really important and out there and it kinda makes you a more important figure than you were otherwise when in actual fact I said nothing very remarkable and it did not feel excited or dangerous in a fun way or all American to have to deal with this threat and it felt like I had done something wrong because I was the one who has a police escort which is not the most fun and I was the one who couldn't use the bathroom like a normal person or go into the building the normal way,” she spoke confidently.

It was very interesting seeing her writing a character who is Muslim/Pakistani when she’s not. Someone can only know so much about someone’s culture. She decided to step away from ms. marvel this year to give young Muslim authors a chance to give Khan more of a story since she isn’t born into the culture or religion because being born into that and growing up with it is a whole different experience. She thought so as well. It’s amazing of her to do that since she has been with Khan for so long but her thinking about young Muslim readers and wanting more for those readers is a thoughtful thing to do.

“We never thought this landscape would have changed so much artistically politically with this character to be embraced by so many people and that there will be this amazing dynamic and crap of young Muslim writers who will rise together and love this character and take her on as their own.”

#Journalsim Writing MsMarvel Marvel Profile Event

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iridescentwinters · 5 years

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with a heavy heart

— summary: au! it was the monday after, a.k.a nora’s first day. and while making new friends, she learns about her old ones. more specifically her old best friend.

↳ part three of the four-part series “puppy love”

↳ also available on ao3

nora inhaled the cool spanish breeze.

oh yeah, she thought giddily, i most definitely am back home.

luckily, nora’s father hadn’t sold the house after they left, so they managed to move back without finding a new place.

nora smiled, as she looked outside her bedroom window and caught sight of her swing set. she had pretty good memories there, with alejandro especially.

alejandro…. the name made her smile fade slowly. her eyes then trail over to the house next to hers. maybe it was because she hadn’t seen the place in so long, but it seemed so… lifeless. the colour most definitely let her know that the de miguels were in due for a repaint job.

but the lights were out. and it was only early evening. did they move out? she wondered. no way, she thought with a shake her head. it was alejandro’s great grandmother’s place and his sister isabella loved it. she turned away from the window, after deciding on not giving it more thought. she was only a year older than me but was still a kid. she obviously lost the whole home sentiment.

“nora.” her father called her name after knocking on her slightly ajar door. “your mother’s calling for dinner.”

nora looked back at the man. “she managed to cook?” she asked, surprised. mr grace shrugged. “if your definition of cooking is pouring water into three cups of mac n’ cheese, then yes. she did.”

the girl smiled. “can’t say no to instant mac n’ cheese.”

of course the weekend passed by quick, and nora found herself looking into the mirror, straightening out her already straightened clothes. she applied her signature red lipstick (something she picked up from her mother), but was wondering if it was a bit much. sighing, she scolded herself. stop overthinking everything!

grabbing her bag which was on the floor, she looked through her window again. her father had gone for a quick stop at the minimart that was around the corner and passed by the house to see if anyone was home, but he found that it was empty. so the de miguels did move out. nora wondered if they left the country.

standing up straighter, she held her head up high like how her mother taught her to whenever she was anxious or afraid, before turning on her heel and walking out of her room. it didn’t matter if he was still here or not. they weren’t friends anymore, and she’d make new friends. she gulped at the thought of new friends. hopefully she did.

her parents were already sitting at the dining table. the kitchen was starting to look normal again because of the grocery shopping they did over the weekend. mrs grace set a bowl of cereal at the vacant spot of the table, along with a glass of water. there was a brown bag sitting on the kitchen counter. “ready for your first day?” she asked. nora nodded, despite feeling quite the opposite of ready. she was feeling the normal first day jitters, and she wasn’t really in the mood to listen to her parents saying that everything was going to be fine.

half an hour later, the three of them were in a car, on the way to the first destination which was nora’s new high school. once they reached the school, mr and mrs grace looked back at their daughter.

“have a good first day, baby.” mrs grace said. “remember, don’t trust everyone immediately.” mr grace warned. that made nora’s heart drop.

“i’m not naïve like that anymore, dad.” she muttered, fiddling with her chain. mrs grace gave her husband a pointed look, but that didn’t change his stern expression much. “i know you aren’t. it’s a reminder.”

i think i have enough memories that serve as reminders, thank you very much, she thought sarcastically. not wanting to start an argument, she nodded. “okay. see you later.”

“do you need a ride after school?” mrs grace asked. “your dad could–”

“nope. i’ll walk. bye!” nora said hurriedly, getting out of the car. their house wasn’t that far from their place anyway.

walking up to the school, her eyes scanned her surroundings. she couldn’t really identify anyone yet. a good sign, i guess? she thought, before entering the building. it was definitely much larger than her middle school.

here we go.

looking around, she tried to find the office to get her schedule and locker number and key, but found it to no avail. sighing, she knew she had to ask someone. who should i ask?

looking forward, she saw a hijabi leaning against the row of lockers, on her phone. nora walked to her. “hola.” she greeted, starling the girl a little. “hola.” she replied, putting her phone away. “need something?” she asked a little curtly, but nora understood why. everyone that was passing by them were giving them–her weird looks, and if they were with a friend, they’d immediately break into whispers. people really have nothing better to do other than gossip, huh. and have they never heard of muslim women who wore hijabs before?

“i’m new here.” nora admitted. “and i’m kinda having trouble finding the office. could you help me out?”

the other girl’s eyebrows raise. she then kicks herself off of the lockers. “new, eh?” when nora nodded, she shot another question. “where you from?”

“the states.” nora replied. “wisconsin, specifically. i used to live here, though.”

the girl nodded in understanding. “cool. i’m amira.” she said, extending her hand out. nora took it, and shook. “nora. nice to meet you.”

amira tried to hide a smile creeping onto her face. “well, what are we waiting for? let’s get you to the office.”

the girls talked more as they walked to the office and they found out that they were in the same grade. then after picking up her schedule, they also noticed they shared quite a few classes together too.

as amira continued to talk while they walked to their first period, nora smiled. my first friend, she realised. that wasn’t bad.

lunch rolled in and nora was currently sitting in the school cafeteria with amira and three other girls; viri, cris and eva. she’d met the other girls in her classes through amira and they immediately welcomed her into their friend group. speaking of classes, turned out that at the mention of her name, some people did recognise her and vice versa. and it wasn’t as scary talking to them again.

it really was just the first day jitters.

while they talked, cristian appeared at their table and greeted them–well, eva, and invited them to a party this friday. nora knew for a fact it was the awkward scrawny kid cris she knew. he still had that scar on his eyebrow.

cris didn’t seem to recognise her, though. he smiled at her. “hola,” he greeted her, “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you around. i definitely would’ve remembered a face like yours.” he sounded flirty.

nora smiled at him fondly. definitely not because of his greeting, but how much he changed over the years. he definitely boosted in the confidence area. “nora.” she said, as he kissed her cheeks.

cris’ eyebrows furrowed in thought for a few seconds, before returning back to his normal facial expression. “well, nice to meet you. and i expect to see all of you on friday.” and after puckering his lips in eva’s direction, he walked off.

nora looked at eva with her eyebrow raised. “he seems to fancy you.” she teased. eva rolled her eyes. “he’s a fuckboy,” she deadpanned, “he likes everyone.”

nora laughed. she then brought her water bottle to her lips, drinking out of it.

viri squealed. “we definitely have to go!” she exclaimed. “alejandro’s definitely going to be there.”

nora suddenly choked on her water at the mention of an alejandro. the girls looked back at her in concern. cris patted her back. “you okay, girl?” the blonde asked, and nora nodded. “yeah, drank too quickly.” she rushed out a response awkwardly. “um, who’s alejandro?”

viri’s jaw dropped. “you still don’t know who alejandro is?” she asked, before looking at amira accusingly (who lifted her hands up in surrender). cris grabbed eva’s phone from her hands, and went onto instagram.

“this, is alejandro.” she said, tapping on one of the photos.

and nora knew that it was her best friend alejandro. she’d recognise that narrow pale face and those hazel eyes anywhere. she let cris show her all of his photos, and despite always finding him handsome, he definitely left the baby look in the past.

nora also noticed that he barely smiled in any of the photos. maybe he left that behind too, she thought. cris closed the app, and handed her phone back to eva. “and viri’s soo in love with him.”

viri?

nora looked up at the beaming girl. “you like him?” she asked. the other girl grinned sheepishly. “he’s cute! the cutest. and sooo nice.”

amira snorted. “just because he said sorry after bumping into you doesn’t make him the nicest person.” she sassed. and before viri could have a say, she continued. “also, he’s a fuckboy too. he’s humping and dumping. pretty sure i saw him making out with alicia yesterday.”

cris let out a series of ‘ooo’s. “also saw denise crying in the bathroom yesterday.” she lowered her voice. “alejandro dumped her over text. apparently it was pretty rough.”

nora’s face fell. alejandro? she thought to herself uneasily. no, that couldn’t be my alejandro. the ale i knew couldn’t even hurt a fly.

“he just needs someone to change him.” viri stated confidently. eva smiled sarcastically. “and it’ll be you, won’t it, mrs beltrán de miguel?” she joked, elbowing the girl.

all the colour drained out of nora’s face.

it was alejandro.

“you okay, honey?”

nora stopped picking on the food on her plate and looked up at her mother. “yup.” she said, nodding for better effect. in reality, she really wasn’t. her head couldn’t wrap around the thought of alejandro becoming…. someone like that. what happened? what changed? she was in dire need for answers, but she had a feeling she’d never get them.

mr grace wasn’t at the table with them. he was still at the office. nora wasn’t expecting otherwise. usually, he’d come home at around 9 earliest. most days it was just nora and mrs grace having dinner together.

the older woman pursed her lips together as if she wanted to say something, but she eventually didn’t and dropped the matter. the two sat in silence, continuing with their dinner. all the small talk was done earlier that evening.

not feeling hungry anymore, nora stood up from the table and cleared out her plate before placing it into the dishwasher. she looked at her mother. “i’ll just be in my room doing homework.” she said half-heartedly. mrs grace nodded.

before she managed to make it to the stairs, the doorbell rang. nora’s eyebrows furrowed. who could that be? her dad wouldn’t be ringing the bell, he had a key. and she hadn’t disclosed her address to anyone at school.

maybe it’s a neighbour.

“i’ll get it!” she yelled, and walked to the door. peering through the peephole, her face fell. shock overtook her features. wait, that’s….

ding dong!

“nora?” her mother said her name. “i thought you had it!”

“i-i do.” she responded a little incoherently. she finally opened the door.

she was standing face-to-face with alejandro beltrán de miguel.

#skam españa #nora grace #alejandro beltrán #nora x alejandro #alenora #norandro

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songketalliance · 5 years

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Keep Your Head Down

“Some might ask why did I bother to fit in to the Brunei norm. The real question is, did I really ever had a choice?”

by ShaSha Cuadra

“This is not your place. Just behave, stay quiet and keep your head down.”

These were one of the earliest lessons that were drilled into my head as a child. Back then, I didn’t know there was such stigma to different races and foreigners mixing together in one school. I didn’t even know what stigma meant. All I knew was that we were kids being sent to spend their days in school to learn.

As far as my young eyes could see, school assembly was a mass of white and black towering over me. Boys wore black songkoks and girls wore white tudongs as per the standard school uniform. I just transferred from private school then who had no need of enforcing the use of a tudong. I had no idea how to wear one.

Of course, when you were a kid, all you had to do was just wear the tudong like you would a shirt. But the actual trouble came when I went to high school and I had to learn how to wear one properly, without the user-friendly, kid wheels of a tuck and go tudong. I didn’t own any pins that would hold my tudong in place at the bottom of my chin so I resorted to using safety pins before receiving a second-hand collection from my aunt and teachers.

Through trial and error over the years, I’ve managed to decorate a hijab atop of my head without embarrassing myself as easily as pulling on some sweatpants. To others, this may seemed like such a trivial thing to talk about but to me, an outsider living in a completely different environment to the one at home, it’s an achievement. It was necessary to adapt to survive socially.

Because at the young, young age of 9, that lesson was a precaution for me. It was a clear distinction that my parents made me recognized when they told me those exact sentences then.

That I am not a child of this country.

I am an outsider.

My parents came from a different continent altogether, their pride in their nationality automatically ties to me, mine in default. I was a kid, what did I know? But growing up, I didn’t see this distinction of treatment they expected to happen to me as a foreigner’s child.

Yes, there were instances where I felt outcast because my native language was English, not Malay. Which pushed me to adapt it as my second language to keep up with my peers and do well in school. Trial and error as they say, trial and error until I could speak in it fluently enough.

But because of what my parents said to me, I learned to be more observant of my surroundings, watchful of the steps I have to take in order to survive a world they weren’t familiar with. Every day in school, I was left to fend for myself. Every day in a supposed foreign country, I was left to adapt to their culture and community.

Didn't know how to read Jawi? I put in extra effort to learn it to pass my Ugama subjects. My parents didn't know how to read it so I had to depend on willing friends and teachers just to catch up.

Didn't own a baju kurung for special events at school? I had to borrow the second-hand ones my mum had and and just double fold where it's too loose for my then small frame. To this day, I don't own any new baju kurong that isn't second-hand or one that I share with my mom.

Didn't understand the concept of segregation and racism? I observed what was acceptable and isn't and imitate it accordingly. After all, you're not a bad guy if you follow their social rules.

Right?

Dead wrong.

Some might ask why did I bother to fit in to the Brunei norm. The real question is, did I really ever had a choice? If I was to survive in an place that even my parents weren't familiar with and are wary of, I had to blend in and quietly hope that I would not be picked out of the flock.

Needless to say, I’ve acclimatized to being as one of their own convincingly.

But I am constantly reminded of my place by diplomatic and political technicalities, that I am still, in fact a foreigner. This may be where my life and home is, but paperwork dictates it's not, and I need to pay money, blood, sweat and tears to be here.

At the end of the day, I am merely a chameleon in a hijab trying to fit in and avoid mistreatment or discrimination for being anything but a Bruneian.

by ShaSha Cuadra

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#theme: my identity #brunei #ShaSha Cuadra #songket alliance #writing

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jayandsu-blog · 6 years

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Now We’re Connected (1/?)

"What. Is that?"

Su looked up from placing her cup of coffee, to see her friend staring at her phone atop the table. "What?"

"That. Is an abomination" Gloria said pointing at the black, dirty and broken iCarrot. She gave a slight scrunch of her nose as she took a sip of her latte.

Su and her best friend, Gloria, a beautiful wheat-colored and fierce bunny, always went for a cup of coffee during break hours at work. Well, at least when they weren't occupied. A way to relax after a tiring day. Su worked as a teacher in a reputed school in middle of Downtown, where as Gloria worked in a high-end corporation. Both felt that this coffee break was what they needed as a boost and would meet up at the nearest Snarlbucks, for both of them, for a quick breather.

Su rolled her eyes and looked away in embarrassment. "Come on, Gloria. It's not that bad. It needs a little work, yes, but I can work with it! It's probably a year or two old." She said sheepishly.

"Bad?" Gloria raised her eyes in amusement and scoffed. "That thing looks ancient! You know, if you gave that to a museum, you'd fetch a hefty sum just from that alone. Maybe you can use that money to buy a new phone. And I'll be the first person to go and see that phone in the stone age display."

Su groaned and hit her head on the table, blushing deep red. Her friend sighed and kept her cup down and patted her head gently. "Look, Su. I think it's time you stopped taking hand-me-downs from others in your family. I mean, I get it that we have a lot of siblings and all, but still you know. You're an independent girl! Surely, you can buy a new phone, can't you?"

The white rabbit sighed, lifting her head and adjusting the soft black scarf around her head. "You're right, Glo. I should probably get a new one. This thing's about to break anyways. Plus, I can't hear my parents on MuzzleTime either."

"That's the spirit!" Gloria clapped in excitement, bouncing in her seat. Su smiled lightly at her friend's cute behavior and glanced at her phone. Maybe it's not a bad idea. A new phone would be nice.

Her ear perked up at the sound of Gloria's phone vibrating. The doe swiped her phone open and furrowed her eyebrows after a minute. She sighed and started to put her things away. "My colleague just messaged me. Seems like there's something going on and they need me there. I'll be heading out, sweetie."

Su nodded understandingly. "I'll walk you to your work. I had a half day so I'll head home after that." She helped Gloria get everything and both walked out of the café.

The weather was pleasant, not too hot nor too cold. Thank God, March doesn’t come with a lot of heat. The summers are more difficult for Su to handle, since she always wore long dresses and her hijab. Mostly black. It looked good on her, contrasting.

As they neared Gloria's place of work, she turned around to the snow-white bunny and said encouragingly, "My boyfriend, Chase… He knows someone, a close friend of his, who could help you with your phone. He works at a good store and can aid you. Shall I send you the address?"

Su nodded in approval. "I'll go down this evening, I guess. I don't have a lot of work for today."

"Great." Gloria stopped in front of the entrance to a huge corporation. "I'll message you in a bit. Be careful on your way home, okay?"

They said their goodbyes and Su walked on ahead, pondering over what Gloria said, in the warm afternoon.

Okay. I know this is short but I’m trying to get some down once in a while since I’m stocked up on a lot of school work and upcoming exams as well ^^’ Everybody’s been asking how me and Jay met, so I decided to write it down. =D A big thanks to one of my dear friends here, @soranii314 🌺 for letting me use her zoosona for this story and even in real life for always supporting me and my wolf through all our endeavors. ✨ I hope you all liked it, and I will post more soon. <3

Written by: @laverne-wildhopps

#zootopia #now we're connected #my fic #a story for how me and my love met #su shi #Jay wolfe #gloria and chase #soranii314

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ventingoutmyass · 5 years

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2.15.18

Most people understand what it means to miss who a person used to be rather than who they currently are. I, personally, have not really experienced this until this last year.

I want to tell you about this person first. She was a glowing star in my life. She was handed a terrible life and a neglectful family. She was ten years old when we first met. She hasn't been really affected by her environment yet. She still had her childhood innocence, she wanted to have fun and make friends and play games.

She was eleven when she became my best friend. We shared a sixth grade classroom and lots of friends came and went. We struggled through the hardships of middle school together, but there was always a lot more going on at home for both of us. My parents were getting divorced and my life was falling from under me, while her family put more pressure on her and began to crush her into a little ball in the corner, flinching at any sudden movement.

When I moved to a new school district for high school, she convinced her parents to let her come with me. It was a long drive for them and things kept getting worse at home. At one point her mom told her not to bother, because in high school we would find other friends and forget about eachother. It made her really upset and she called me, crying. I told her that the only way that would happen is if we both let it. I told her I wouldnt let it. It was our freshman year that her parents separated and through the mess she lived with me for a while. She slept on couch cushions next to my twin size bed for three weeks before her mom demanded to take her home.

Junior year was the first time we had started to drift apart. I remembered back to that phone call, I started to cry. It was the kind of drifting that even though we saw eachother everyday, the connection we always had was loose. Then, the semester came with the one and only class we ever had together, US history. We sat right next to eachother and our connection strengthened again. I was extremely grateful to have her.

One thing I forgot to mention is that my friend comes from a Muslim household. They had become very americanized over the years, especially after the parents split. The kids werent very in touch with their culture or religion and never prayed. The only real signs I'd seen of their religion til this point is that their mom wore a hijab, and they celebrated Eid. I also knew that every couple years they would visit family in Iraq over the summer.

My friend was a good kid. She was responsible and caring and had so much love to give the world. We wanted to go to medical school and become a pediatrician because she loves kids more than I've seen anyone love anything before.

In January of 2017 she decided that she needed a break. She left to Iraq for seven months. I made a scrapbook for her before she left, to remind her of all the people who love her back at home. If I can find a picture of it I'll post it here as well.

She came back in the beginning of August. She has learned a lot more about her religion and spoke Arabic a lot more. She also decided she wanted to wear her hijab seriously, not just while visiting family.

In mid-August, she met a boy. And to be honest with you, it all goes downhill from there.

In December of 2017 my friend took a pregnacy test. When it came up positive, she decided to go to a GYN office and take a professional test. When that test came out negative, she began taking birth control and went about her life like nothing happened.

In March of 2018, she decided to take another test. It came out positive. She again went to see a doctor. The doctor told her that she was eleven weeks pregnant.

A lot happened in March. A lot of negligence on her part. She decided to embrace the pregnancy, despite being Muslim and un-married. She made a little blue chest she used as a box to hold a pair of baby shoes, she used this as an announcement. I decided to play along for a day and drive her around to everyone she loved most to reveal the big news. She hadnt told her parents for obvious reasons and my mom sat at home, terrified for her.

In late March her boyfriends mom took it upon herself to reveal the news to my friends parents. My friend called me that night, pleading, sobbing. My mom and I jumped in the car and drove as fast as we could to her moms house where they were. For two hours my mom tried to explain the situation and calm them down and figure out ways to handle the situation while I held my friend as she cried. We couldnt take her home that night like we planned, like we wanted to.

My friend never took our advice. My friend never listened to anything that I or my mom had to say. She only listened to people who didnt know the severity of the situation. Because they said what she wanted to hear. She wanted to lead a normal life with her baby and boyfriend and to keep her siblings and distant family as well. Realistically, there was no possible way to have it all. She didnt want to hear that.

I went with her for the consultation. Her parents wanted her to have an abortion. Her dad, in fact, wanted the abortion and then to ship her off to China where she would get sewn back together, like she never lost her virginity. Luckily, my mom talked him out of that option. I told my friend that the only way to keep the baby is to go into hiding. To leave everything behind and go where nobody could find her or the baby, I gave her options. I told her where she could go who could take care of her. Endless numbers of people we knew reached out to help. She refused. She wanted her family too.

It became too much. I wasnt able to focus on my own life. I was spending too much emotional and physical energy and she wasnt listening to anything I had to say, any good advice I had, any option I gave her. She wanted what she wanted and there was nothing else in her eyes. It was every minute of every day that I was thinking and hoping and praying for her. I gave up. I couldnt handle the stress anymore.

She had the abortion against her wishes. Two months later she flew out to Iraq, she wanted to be away from her parents for a couple months.

My friend left in May of 2018. In September, she said she would come back home in October or November.

She hasn't come home. She has no plans of coming home. She hasn't spoken to me since. She texted my mom last month to ask about her taxes, because she worked for my mom for a while, and nothing else.

Life has done nothing but tear her down. I was one of the only good things she had and life forced her away from me.

I miss my best friend. I miss her smile and happiness. I miss hanging out with our friends and going bowling and shopping at stores that we didnt have the money for. I miss her every single day. We would be approaching ten years of friendship this fall. I cant express in words how much I miss her smile. Her smile was the biggest relief off my shoulders growing up. No matter how hard life was and how much she hated herself and how bad she wanted to die some days. Her smile made me feel like she could be okay. Her smile told me that time would one day give her all the smiles and laughs that she deserves, for all the ones she missed growing up.

But life doesnt have happy endings

I still have the little blue chest in the trunk of my car. Along with the baby clothes I had bought for her. I cant bring myself to give them away

#everything i didn't say #lost frienship

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