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dude1818 · 2 years

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Kiriona Gaia Isn’t Gideon Nav

That’s an extreme claim, I know. And we’ve clearly seen a lot in common between the two. However, the differences are stark enough that I don’t believe that it can be explained purely as off-screen character growth over the course of several months.

Let’s review what we’ve seen of Kiriona in Nona the Ninth. She’s extremely possessive of and in love with Harrow still (“Get in line, thou big slut”); she’s besties with Ianthe (friendship bracelets, secret handshake); and she’s deeply loyal to the Emperor, her father (going on secret missions that even the other Lyctor Prince doesn’t know about).

The first one makes sense. When John brought Gideon back and bound her soul to her corpse, it was still her soul, only a little worse for wear for being killed twice already. The only way John seems to be able to create new souls is the old fashioned way (which tbf is how he created Gideon the first time). However, he clearly put his own spin on the body. The titanium bones, unbreakable skin, and leaving the hole through her chest are his mark of Cain upon Kiriona.

Kiriona’s friendship with Ianthe feels like a major stretch for Gideon. We know she can be temporarily swayed with puns (“gall on gall” -> “let’s get married”), but it’s a far cry from merely cooperating with someone you don’t like to becoming best friends with them. While I can see Gideon continuing to work with Ianthe like at the end of Harrow the Ninth for a significant period time, I find it impossible to believe they could actually become friends given how diametrically opposed they are. (I don’t think Ianthe can have friends at all, but this isn’t about her.)

I think the hardest part to swallow is her loyalty to John. Gideon wasn’t loyal to the Ninth House or the Houses as a whole a day in her life; her only loyalty was to Harrow personally, and even that was self-serving. Gideon was definitely a schemer; she wasn’t book smart (although even she picked up enough skeletal knowledge on the Ninth), but she spent a lot of time making intricate plans for escape, and they got pretty good. If Gideon knew that Harrow’s body was walking around on New Rho, it’s reasonable to think that she maneuvered things to get planetside to rescue her.

But she didn’t. Kiriona was a Lyctor Prince for a good deal before the New Rho operation, and I’m not sure how much she knew about Harrow’s body’s presence when the planning for that began. Instead, it turns out the whole thing was actually John’s plan to get Alecto back to the Tomb. The same John who’s only prior interaction with Gideon was ordering the death of her girlfriend necromancer. And even without the personal slight, Gideon hates authority figures. John is Crux turned to 10,000, and Kiriona took great pleasure in finally finishing him off.

Except, she didn’t. And while her response could be read as “revenge is hollow because it doesn’t get you back what you lost,” Kiriona seems to react as though she can tell her empty response doesn’t feel legitimate. This is my central thesis: John fucked with her mind when he rebuilt Gideon. He didn’t want a loose cannon teenage daughter, he needed a new Lyctor who would actually remain loyal after everyone else had turned on him. And so he ensured that Kiriona would be a better soldier than the ones he had just lost.

The biggest piece of evidence is actually the simplest: her name is Kiriona now. One of the major revelations in Nona the Ninth is how he built the crew that would later become the Lyctors post-Resurrection. Those sixteen people who were largely his friends and colleagues before the end of the world were not quite the same people that became the Lyctors and cavaliers afterwards. When he first animated Ulysses and Titania, he gave them new names to signify that they were new people. When he killed his friends and resurrected them, he gave them new names too. Their personalities were generally the same (Alfred was still the peacekeeper; Cristabel was still a martyr; Augustine and Mercymorn were still kismesises), but they explicitly didn’t remember who they were before. The same is true of Kiriona: she still had the same general personality as Gideon, but now her ideals are John’s ideals. She was resurrected with the same loss of agency that the rest of John’s people suffered.

#I get physically uncomfortable when I see posts talking about Kiriona like she's just Gideon with a new nickname #I haven't had that kind of response to a book since I read James and the Giant Peach when I was like 6 #nona the ninth #gideon the ninth #the locked tomb #ntn spoilers #nona the ninth spoilers #tlt

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fbfh · 3 years

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if you can't stand the heat, then get neutered - leo x reader

wc: 600

pairing: leo x gn reader

genre: slice of life, domestic light fluff

series: domestic cozy moments cinematic universe

warnings: you get your kitten spayed so everything that comes along with that, mentions of heat cycles (the actual animal kind not the hybrid/abo kind), mentions of finding blood in urine which is how you found out she wasn't spayed, you go to a vet clinic, kitten has stitches, kitten is wearing a cone, you and leo are nervous on her behalf, I think that's it

summary: when it's finally time to pick up your little jackhammer after getting her superfluous organ removed, all three of you are ready to be back home. All of you are ready for a nap.

a/n: please make sure you're being a responsible pet owner!!!!!! pls get your animals fixed and take good care of them!!!! also tell them I love them!!!!!!!

also ty bestie for the idea for this fic yk who you are <3

“Name?”

“Leo Valdez, but my friends call me Sparky.”

The vet tech lets out a small chuckle and gives him a look.

“Of the animal,” she corrects, and Leo lets out a chuckle. To anyone else he seems sociable and easygoing, but you know him well enough to pick up on his cues. He’s as nervous and anxious and ready to be home as you are.

“Jackjack.” he replies, using the familiar nickname out of habit.

“Is that the full name?”

“No, it’s uh,” you start, “Jackhammer… Sound Barrier-”

“Construction Zone-” he adds.

“Symphony Orchestra.” You conclude. Her eyebrows are raised as she looks through her paperwork.

“She purrs really loudly,” Leo says with another nervous chuckle. His hand is grasped tightly in yours and he plays with the buttons on his open flannel, shifting his weight from foot to foot. You chew on the inside of your cheek, fingers raking up and down the leg of your jeans.

“Well, there you have it,” she says, flipping through some papers.

“Yeah,” you muse, “it was either that or Mittens.”

She lets out another laugh, then finds the papers she’s looking for.

“Sign here,” she says, then swiftly enters the back of the clinic. You squeeze Leo’s hand reassuringly, and he reciprocates the gesture. He bounces on the balls of his feet. You’re both so ready to be home and have this be over. You had known that taking in a kitten off the street wouldn’t be without a few surprises, but you definitely did not expect to find blood in her litter two weeks after adopting her. Terrified, you rushed her to a 24 hour emergency vet, who informed you that the little lady had merely gotten her period. She referred you to a great spaying and neutering clinic, and you booked the soonest appointment you could for her.

You’re about to point out a horrible pun on one of the posters above the desk, when the vet tech emerges, carrying a small pet carrier.

You accept, looking inside at Jack, her sleepy face surrounded by a clear, almost comically tiny, cone.

“Hi Jackjack,” you coo in unison.

She opens her mouth wide and lets out a little chirping meow. Your hearts swell.

After getting copies of the care instructions, and one more signature, Jack is discharged.

The car ride passes quickly, and soon you’re back home. One important instruction was to not let her jump anywhere, since you don’t want pressure on her stitches. You come up with the plan to keep her in the bathroom for the first few days so you can monitor her. Plus, there’s not really anywhere she’d want to jump up to. As you set up her bed on the bathroom floor, you’re reminded of when she first came home.

You set her in bed, and Leo drapes a blanket over her. She doesn’t lay down.

“She is not pleased with the downgrade from our bed to the floor,” you say, fighting off a giggle.

She looks up at you, and lets out a disgruntled meow, as if to say, yeah no shit. You want to go from memory foam to ceramic tile, be my guest.

You both laugh, trying to be quiet.

“Well, they definitely didn’t take out her attitude,” Leo muses, and you agree. You both watch her settle down, a deep relief coming over you that she’s already acting like herself.

Knowing her, she’ll bounce back in no time.

tag list // @avashaye @perseajohnson @afidiofobia @thatmultifandomloser @anything-forourmoony @perseajohnson @butt-nugget-of-mine @thatmultifandomloser @chasingpj @1dpjohoohp @anything-forourmoony @perseajohnson @butt-nugget-of-mine@chasingpj @1dpjohoohp

#leo valdez x reader #leo x reader #leo valdez x you #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus #leo valdez #leo valdez fluff #also abt the tags: some of you are probs tagged more than once #I am still getting the hang of this #I am also counting this as part of th domstic cozy momnts sris #my eeeee board is not oring #its not functiona1 #right no #wwwwwwwww #be patient #oh my god i hopeeee i can gt this fixd

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khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

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SCREAMS

MORE SCREAMING

INTENSIFIED SCREAMING

First of all, when you tagged me as Georgia in the CYM did you look into my brain because THIS GIRL DHUDHUCIUHIDFUHKDFVUKHDKHU

AWW GEORGIA IS ON THE PATH OF BECOMING A SCIENTIST LIKE HENRY AND CHRISTOPHER!! MEMORIES!!

if Eidolon demons could do calligraphy, it would look like Georgia’s handwriting.

oof same

GEORGIA BABY IT'S OK I HAVE A HORRIBLE HANDWRITING TOO

I eventually gave up

she is so smart sniffs THE IRON SISTERS ARE IN LONG ISLAND

[5:16 PM]AYUGDCSYUGDCYGUVFDYUGVDFUYH SO THERE'S A RUMOR ABOUT RAFAEL DATING SOMEONE?? WHY?? DUDE LIVE YOUR OWN LIFE AND LET HIM LIVE HIS

“The poor boy had a crush on you for a month,” she heard dadda chuckle.

“Excuse you, it was a month and a half,” Mama corrected.

HUYDSUYGDFYGUFVSUYGVFHUVFUHUIFVUHFVUIHFVD

why is everyone so obsessed with the kids' dating lives like dude-

Uncle Alec had been elected as the Consul – again.

Pretends to be shocked. MY BOY IS THE BEST CONSUL OUT THERE FITE ME

And when he was stressed, he watched Dora the Explorer.

good to know im not the only one who watches cartoons when they are stressed(edited)

ALSO RAFAEL BABY IM COMING THERE TO FIGHT THESE PEOPLE WHO ARE SPREADING RUMORS THE AUDACITY

Georgia is the first ever person to actually enjoy izza's cooking

She had always thought of herself as a loner. It happens when you think differently from everyone else. Sometimes you feel like you live in your own world with your own rules. She had been okay with it. She had been comfortable.

same bestie same

Georgia had been surprised because she hadn’t known she was an option at all.

i feel like this fic is calling me out

But Georgia couldn’t let it go. She refused to believe that things were either good or bad. Anything can be anything if you know how to use it.

YES

“Brother Enoch!” Lexi raised her hand. “Up top?”

The silent brother stared – or probably glared cause you could never tell – and walked past them to the institute office room.

“He is never going to high five you,” Georgia pointed out.

“Nah, he is just a little shy,” Lexi grinned. “I will get that high five. You will see.”

HNVUHVUHVUKVDFYHUDUKFVH I LOVE THIS SO MUCH

JACE MAKING PUNS AND BEING OBSESSED WITH TEA

GIMME

“Hey!” Mama said – her face looked a little red, like she had put lipstick all over her face, not just her lips.

Now I would have overlooked this but shadowhunters are getting sick and dying and I'm worried.

THE PARABATAI TEST THING YGSDCYUGDUYGKFWECYGUKWFEYGUK ROMAN

“Lexi tried to eat her witchlight to see if she would light up,” Georgia pointed out. “Of course, she doesn’t know what’s good for her!”

THESE DAMN HERONDALES GEORGE

IM GONNA CRY NO Their bond...HUYGYJUDYJDSCHUKDUKYDFV the way Georgia knew

“That’s just a common misconception,” dada laughed. “Do you think I’m the responsible one in my parabatai relationship? Or is it Clary? I literally summoned angel Raziel in the middle of a farm and your Clary raised her boyfriend from the dead.”

“And if you think Alec is the responsible parabatai then I have a lot of stories to tell you,” Mama chuckled to herself.

HYSUHYSCUDUYIDHUDFVUIFDVUKHFVDU

I dont think that it was Lexi telling Georgia about the test that fucked it up. there is definitely something more to it.

It sounded so simple. Georgia frowned at that. “But what I mess up?”

“Then we will call Magnus,” Mama said, and dada laughed at that.

TRUE

“Then I will wear it to my first day at the academy,” she grinned and walked away.

“I'm having war flashbacks to my middle school days. Our daughter is going to get bullied,” she heard dada whisper to her mother.

“Our daughter is going to be the biggest badass to walk this earth,” mama corrected.

“I thought you were the biggest badass to walk this earth,” dada chuckled.

“I’m going to retire.”

AWWW

Georgia and Simon are such nerds I LOVE THEM

M GONNA CRY

[5:49 PM]THEIR FRIENDSHIP

“That’s insane! If I want cool weapons, I will break into the adamant citadel,” Lexi sounded angry.

YES LETS GO ~!~(edited)

Georgia smiled at that. “I know, Lex. I just…I guess I couldn’t understand why would want to be my parabatai in the first place. I know I am a litte-”

“Talented? Brilliant? Incredible? Amazing? Show stopping? Spectacular? Never the same? Totally unique? Completely never been done before?”

“Stop quoting Lady Gaga!”

“Never!”

AHHHHHHHHHH THEM

“I don’t want to be born into greatness,” Lexi confessed quietly. “It makes me feel like I didn’t have a choice. I'm going to be great, I want to it be my choice.”

Georgia smiled. “I understand.”

“And you’re my first choice, Gigi,” Lexi whispered. “Cause you’re pretty damn great.”

FUCK THAT WOMAN BESTIE YOU DO YOU

Lexi chuckled with her and pulled back. “When things get rough, you are not going to abandon me and become an Iron Sister, right?”

“God, no!” Georgia shuddered thinking of the serious looking Iron Sisters in their white robes. “I don’t think I could pull of the white aesthetic.”

“You can pull off anything,” Lexi firmly disagreed.

“Besides, they can’t get married,” Georgia pointed out, and Lexi made a face. “What if Harry Styles finally replies to my fan mail? It’s too risky.”

i would die for these two no questions asked. look im against smoking but alec smoking is my aesthetic LEAVE ME AND MY PIZZA (with way too many veggies fuck you my brother) ALONE

“Uncle Alec,” she said. “You better not smoke again after I leave.”

“Or you will tell Magnus?” he grinned.

“No. I will tell granny.”

His grin disappeared immediately. “Damn. Okay. Fine. No smoking.”

I CHOKED-

GEORGIA MAKING LEXI HAIR CLIPS OUT OF ADAMAS

“Oh shit, was I supposed to get something you too?” Lexi asked awkwardly. “I thought I didn’t have to…cause I kinda gave you my soul as a gift and all that.”

Georgia chuckled. “I accept your gift.”

“Good,” Lexi grinned. “Cause it’s non-refundable.”

sigh herondales (affectionate)

Also I don't think I'm ever getting over Magnus as Dumbledore

I AM OFFICIALLY NAMING MYSELF PROTECTOR OF GEORGIA LOVELACE LIGHTWOOD IDC IDC

damn it's almost 7 am- my sleep's fucked. BYE!!!

YOUR REACTIONS GIVE ME SO MUCH LIFE.

If you ever want to do one of those live reaction videos on YouTube for shows and stuff, you should totally give it a go. I think you would KILL IT.

Gigi and Lexi have the purest form of friendship. I can't wait to show you more of it!

Laters x.

#lbaf

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justcourttee · 3 years

Note

New prompt idea! Following the defeat of Hawkmoth, Jason is terrified of the idea of Bruce adopting the sunshine child that is Adrien (that and all the puns that the boy makes... Adrien can't meet Dick!!!). He, alongside Damian, decide to try to get Selina to adopt a new cat instead. Unfortunately for everyone (except Adrien), Jon tags along. AdriJon for the ship and maybe Marinette being having a sibling relationship with the Wayne children?

I’m back to writing and when I saw this prompt, I was so excited. If it hasn’t been hinted at enough in some of my pieces, I adore AdriJon. I hope you like it! @elements1999

Stupid Lovestruck Jon

As Gabriel Agreste was drug from his front gates, the crowds surrounding the manor erupted in yet another round of cheers. Even with the hero’s help, the police had trouble keeping them back. Jason and Damian stood on the edge, both wearing matching grim expressions under their hoods and glasses.

“You know what this means D?”

Damian nodded solemnly, the scowl on his face deepening as Gabriel disappeared from their view.

“Father mustn't meet Agreste until we have found a suitable host family for him.”

The idea of Dick and Adrien bonding over stupid puns and forcing Jason and Damian to join in on family game nights was enough to send shivers down the two Wayne’s backs. There was no question about it, Adrien could not be allowed to be adopted.

“What do you think Selina would say if we brought her a kit?”

Damian shifted his gaze to Jason’s face, doing his best to hide his shock that Jason could come up with a coherent idea.

“I believe she would enjoy Plagg very much, Adrien though? Well, that would take some getting used to. How do you propose we get the two to meet?”

Jason’s face darkened quickly.

“It’ll be risky, but we invite them to America. After all, he’s going to need an escape from the media.”

“Perhaps Metropolis?”

The boys nodded as if that was the most logical sentence before both heads snapped up, their eyes widening at the sight of the petite hero that had landed between them. Marinette threw her arms around the boys’ shoulders, dragging them down to her own height.

“There is only room for so much sunshine at the Wayne estate. Dick has monopolized all of it and for the sake of not only you but myself as well, Adrien needs a more stable parental figure than Bruce Wayne. Not that my first choice would be Selena, but I know that she has a soft spot for orphans, no matter what she says.”

Both boys tried to wrestle their way out of her grasp, but it was nearly impossible with Tikki to help her.

“Here’s how it will go. I will go to help the police finalize anything they need for this arrest and you will trail Chat Noir until he decided to transform back. I want to be there as well, but unfortunately, the police aren’t exactly understanding when it comes to personal relationships.”

With a nod, the sound of two smacks echoed as she disappeared into the sky, the only trace of her being matching red spots on both of the Wayne’s necks.

“I really despise when she does that, no matter how much I want to be impressed.”

Jason chuckled as he nudged Damian forward, both of them slipping into the nearest building to change before anyone from the media could catch sight of the American’s on the scene of what would become known as the greatest arrest in Paris’ history.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“You know, I caught the trail of you following me a couple of blocks back. You don’t have to stay hidden.”

Damian let out a small string of curses as he stepped out from behind the chimney and into view of the black cat.

“I hate magic.”

Adrien chuckled as he waited for Jason to step out from the other side, both boys looking a little sheepish that they had been caught.

“Did Marinette ask you to follow me? Cause that sounds like something she would do. Really, I’m fine guys. Once we started the investigation, so much more began to make sense. He wanted to disguise the fact that he was selfish, wanting just my mother for himself, no matter the consequence. Even if it meant sacrificing me..”

Damian swallowed awkwardly as he glanced between Jason and Adrien. Thanks to Dick’s persistent pestering, he had gotten slightly better at reading emotions and watching his tongue, but this was uncharted territory and as much as he hated to admit it, he had no idea what to do.

Adrien let out a shaky laugh as he stood, brushing off the imaginary dust from his suit.

“Whatever, so what is Maribug’s master plan for avoiding the press? I know she sent you here to collect me for that very reason, so what could it be?”

Jason cleared his throat as he stepped forward, his smile completely see-through as the worry shined.

“Well, how would you feel about a trip overseas? Metropolis perhaps? You’re a huge Superman fanboy, aren’t you? Well, Dami here is besties with his son and we thought it would be a grand idea for you to have a distraction. What do you say?”

Damian frowned at Jason’s choice of wording. Besties felt a little strong for the relationship that he held with Jon, perhaps tolerable coworkers was better suited?

“Okay.”

Both boys tried to hide their surprised faces. They knew he was desperate for an escape, but his response was still quick for their liking. Honestly, they thought it was going to take a bit more convincing than that.

“Let Marinette know that I’ll be on her balcony whenever she finishes up. I’m sure she has a long night ahead of her and will want to talk to me when she can and guys?” Both boys raised their eyebrows, curiosity, and worry nitpicking their expressions. “Thanks for coming to see me.”

And with that, he leaped off the roof leaving the batbrothers to wonder if Metropolis would be the best idea for the man who effectively was orphaned in one day.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Dami!”

Before he even had a chance to throw his hands up in defense, Jon had already tackled him in a bone-crushing hug much to his annoyance.

“I told you not to call me by that stupid nickname anymore Kent.”

With much effort, Damian shoved Jon off and into Marinette’s waiting arms.

“Aw, but Dami it’s so cute.” The muffled laughter coming from behind him was not helping.

Damian cut his eyes to where Jason and Adrien stood, both chuckling to themselves. He knew it was Jason’s idea to call up Jon to make this impromptu trip more believable for his father, but when breaking it down, Damian wasn’t completely sure that this option was much better than taking Adrien straight to Dick’s side.

“Anyways, I know I’m just the cover story so that you can meet up with Selina and all that, but do you have time to spare? I’d love to show Mari and Adrien around Metropolis! That’s your name, right? Adrien? Mari used to have so many cutouts of you-”

A smack echoed through the airport lobby as Jon found himself in a headlock courtesy of one petite heroine.

“Oh, you wanna bring that up now Jon? I don’t suppose you remember asking for a couple of my magazines for yourself huh?”

There was an undeniable shade of red emitting from under Marinette’s arm, one all three boys noted. A sputtering Jon finally managed to free himself, the red more visible as he gently pushed Marinette away.

“Hey it’s okay, it’s the cost of being a celebrity right?” Adrien reached out, his hand gently brushing Jon’s arm.

A sudden realization hit Damian as he watched his friend jump nearly 100 feet into the air, the red seemingly brighter than before. As Jon linked arms with Marinette, hurriedly leading them out of the airport, Adrien gently coaxing the two to behave, Damian gripped Jason’s jacket pulling the two of them to a stop.

“What do you want brat? We’re gonna get left behind-” With one killer glare, Jason slowly quieted, curiosity seeping into his expression.

“Jason, is uh- does Jonathon- does he see guys as viable mates?”

There was a slight pause and for a moment, Damian felt a bit relieved that perhaps he was not the only one to fail to notice such a thing about the Kent boy. But the moment ended abruptly as Jason erupted in laughter, drawing the attention from some passing by.

“What is it you buffoon? People are staring at us, silence yourself, and answer me.”

“Me buffoon? No, no, no” Jason’s laughter slowly ceased, but the shit-eating grin that replaced it did nothing to ease Damian’s nerves. “You see, you are the only idiot here. What is Jon? An animal? His mating preference?”

Damian felt his face heating up as his grip tightened on Jason’s jacket, intent on tearing a small hole in his precious belonging.

“Now Damian, I know you are dense, but Jon has always talked about guys with you. Did you just think they were all besties? That your third-wheeling on his dates where they gave each other like pecks on the cheek or held hands was just because you hate physical contact and his other friends didn’t mind it?”

The more Jason talked, the redder Damian felt his face becoming. Sure he had noticed before, but it never felt like it was something that mattered much. Plus, it wasn’t like Jon had mentioned anything to him about coming along on his supposed dates. How was he supposed to know?

Letting go of Jason’s jacket, Damian huffed after his friends, ignoring his brother’s taunting calls. There was only one thought that was still left on his mind.

If Jon had a crush on Adrien Agreste, this could ruin the whole plan.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He was right.

What was implied to be a one day tour ended with them staying a week in Metropolis. And the worst part? Damian was completely powerless to do anything about it.

“Hey enfant démon, you seen my partner or yours for that matter?”

Damian scowled at Marinette as she leaned against his doorframe, her expression as exasperated as he felt.

“I told you to quit calling me that. Just because it’s in French doesn’t make it better heathen.”

Marinette stuck her tongue out at him, remaining firm in her spot as she waited for her answer. With a great sigh, Damian shook his head, glancing from his book to out the hotel window.

“They snuck out sometime early this morning while I was on my run. Jason was supposed to be keeping an eye on them.”

A slight protest echoed through the suite as Marinette shook her head.

“Do you think we’ll ever get Adrien to meet Selina at this rate? I know he needed this break, but I hadn’t expected to be gone this long. I just turned 17, if it wasn’t for Jason here being a technical adult, my parents would have never let me come. I’m honestly surprised that they haven’t shown up to drag me to Paris.”

Damian nodded slightly, his thoughts straying to the idea of an angry Sabine showing up at their hotel. The thought alone was enough to send a shiver down his spine. He opened his mouth, unsure how to respond when he caught the sound of a set of familiar giggles outside the suites’ door.

“We’re home! Marinette! You won’t believe how awesome the sunrise in Metropolis is when you’re so high up. Jon is awesome!”

The boy tried his best to hide his blush as he gently swatted Adrien’s shoulder, earning a giggle from the blonde.

“Okay lovebirds, how about you stop running off without the rest of us? At least tell us where you’re going, is that too much to ask?”

A simultaneous ‘yes mom’ came from the duo as they ducked out of Marinette’s reach, racing down the hallway.

“That’s it, I’m calling Selena right now. Damian, Jason, between the two of you, figure out a way to keep our rebellious teens in check. It shouldn’t take longer than thirty minutes for her to arrive, I’m sure the two of you can manage.”

Jason peeked his head into Damian’s room, his eyebrows raised matching how Damian felt. Did she have any idea how hard it was to hold down a Kryptonian without using Kryptonite? If only she hadn’t banned Damian from bringing it to Metropolis.

With a small huff of annoyance, Damian swung his legs off his bed, placing his book back on the nightstand carefully. This was going to be the longest thirty minutes of his life.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Dammit children, can’t you sit still for one minute!” Jason gripped both boy's collars as he tossed them back onto the couch that they had escaped from.

“Aw, c’mon Jason. I thought you were the fun Wayne! I just want to show Adrien a good time before he had to leave.”

Damian wasn’t sure how much more Jason could take. The vein on his forehead looked like it was about to burst from him resisting beating the two to a pulp. It was honestly a bit satisfying to look at.

“Can you at least explain why we’re on house arrest? The day has just started and we’re already wasting it.”

“I told you already Agreste, Marinette wants you to meet a friend of hers that lives nearby. We can’t have you skipping out before she gets here.”

Adrien sighed dramatically before falling into Jon’s shoulder.

“But waiting is boring!”

Damian felt his nose twitch while staring at the blonde. Honestly, he didn’t know how Marinette was able to keep up with this child-like energy for all the years she had. He was exhausted after a mere thirty minutes.

The sound of the doorknob rattling caught the attention of the four as a collective sigh of relief echoed through the room.

“Well hello there my kittens, long time no see.” Within a split second, Selina was already on top of Damian, pulling him into the biggest hug she could manage.

“Release me you heathen, I do not like being touched!”

Selina giggled as she tightened her hug before releasing him, allowing him to drop to the floor.

“Oh, I know. I enjoy giving you a hard time the most Damiboo.”

Damian cringed at the nickname as he allowed Marinette to help him back to his feet. While Selina was unbearable, he honestly had to applaud Jason for his thought. If anyone could reign in the energy Adrien had, it would be her.

“You must be Adrien. I’m Selina Kyle, so very nice to meet you.”

Adrien swallowed hard as he tentatively reached out his hand to shake hers. No one could blame him, the look on Selina’s face was terrifying as if she was admiring a jewel before shattering it into pieces.

“Now let’s cut to the chase. Do you want to live with me? You obviously need a parent figure in your life, but you also only have a year left until you can be on your own. I know it’s a big change from Paris, but between Zeta tubes and that little horse your friend Marinette carries, you’ll never be too far.”

Damian bit his lip hard, trying not to yell at Selina for her brashness. She was supposed to be gentle and coaxing. Get him to like her, spend the day with him, and then suggest it. Adrien looked as white as a ghost, as expected when someone you’ve only heard stories about shows up in your hotel room with adoption papers.

“Uhm, I don’t really want a guardian. My aunt said she would rent me an apartment wherever I wanted and when the time came for my 18th birthday, she’d sign it over to me-”

Adrien was cut off as Selina placed a finger over his lips, shocking him into silence.

“Honey, I can do that for you. Don’t rely on family who will want to steal your father’s fortune. However, I will have a few conditions.”

Adrien nodded slowly, his eyes glancing around frantically as if asking for help.

“First, you must visit Wayne Manor once a week for a family dinner, I refuse to let you off the hook with no real resemblance of a family. Second, you must rent here in Metropolis where you already have a good person looking out for you. And third, you must force Damian and Jason to participate in these once a week dinners.”

Jason and Damian shouted frantically for him to decline, their plans falling to pieces before them. They only quieted down after Marinette reached back giving them matching red bumps on their foreheads.

“What do you say, sweetie? I can tell you and Jon are already close and I think this would be best for everyone. You had already finished your studies in France so you can take this year to decide what you want to do next in life and I think between the Kents and us, we can help you with that.”

It took less than a minute for Adrien to agree and for Damian and Jason to be bested by two black cats. Selina insisted on lunch to celebrate, dragging Adrien and Jon with her and out the door leaving the three exhausted crusaders behind.

“Well, technically Bruce won’t be the one adopting him.” Marinette shrugged before plopping on the couch, the other two following suit.

“Yeah, but like, we went through all this trouble to stop Dick and Adrien from meeting, and now we will be having weekly dinners with them. Marinette, you are officially forced into this agreement as well.” Jason poked at her side, a small sigh of defeat escaping from his lips.

“Stupid lovestruck Jon.” Marinette and Jason turned their attention to where Damian sat, his arms crossed in annoyance. “I bet if they hadn’t had this week to hang out, Selina wouldn’t have picked up on their stupid crushes. Why do you women always feel the need to meddle?”

The air was silent for a moment before laughter erupted from Damian’s right side. Shaking his head, he couldn’t help the small giggle that came from his own mouth. Stupid Jon, making him attend family dinners with the likes of Dick and Adrien. He was happy for him, not to be confused with the utter annoyance he felt for him at the moment as well.

As they sat there joking about their shared fate and pondering how it could’ve gone differently, one thought was constant across all three of their minds:

Who could’ve planned for stupid lovestruck Jon?

Permanent Tag List

@ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava @iamablinkmarvelarmy @seraphkitty @clumsy-owl-4178 @pawsitivelymiraculous @mialuvscats @leagrey @smolplantmum @animegirlweeb @glitterflowercat

#adrijon #maribat #adrien agreste x jon kent

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beautymercurydragon · 4 years

Text

UWU

@extremely-pearlmethirsty and @purple-moonfang here are some cute ship canons for Emma and Rebecca because they’re cuties and deserve this: (mostly quotes I found on the interwebs/online) (for those who don’t understand, Rebecca is 15 in the fic right now while Emma is 13)

- One time, the two girls feel asleep inside Rebecca’s bed at the Le Grand Paris, all snuggled up to one another with their heads buried in the crooks of each other’s neck, nuzzling against there and (sometimes) pecking little kisses there while they’re sleeping. Chloe fangirled and took pictures, sending them to both Adrien and Marinette. (14 and 16.)

- Despite their height difference, Emma knows how to throw Rebecca over her shoulders and carry her around places. She’s a strong little lady. (all ages.)

- One time, when they both had bite marks on their necks, they begged for Maddie and Vivienne not to tell their parents. They threatened to do so, but Maddie said she wouldn’t tattle if they gave her $100 in Monopoly money. Rose ended up concealing their bites, and Chloe, Kim, Adrien and Mari never found out. Well, until they were 21 and 23, that is. (ages 16 and 18.)

- When they reveal their relationship to the other girls, no one is surprised. They knew Rebecca was bi and that Emma was lesbian. Well, all of them except for Maddie. She was oblivious AF the entire time and shocked. She was horribly ashamed and had a stupid breakdown to Tikki. (13 and 15)

- When it’s incredibly early in the morning and Emma gets up, Rebecca protests by wrapping her arms around her and turning her over to kiss her. Emma tries to fight it, but gives in because she loves her (and kisses). (19 and 21)

- Maddie was the clingiest sister/in-law/best friend ever when they got married. Taking a million selfies/pictures with them and ranting about how their kids would be cousins (she was like, seven months pregnant at the time with her own baby), along with how Rebecca was never ever going to escape her now that they’re sisters-in-law. She sings ‘Never Ever Getting Rid Of Me’ from Waitress on Stage to prove her point to Becky (better enough, name of a character from the musical lol, I am SCREAMING), with the help of Luka, Nino, and Ivan to do instruments and a track. Everyone else is cracking up from laughter, including her best friends, sister and sister-in-law, along with her parents and husband. (22 and 24)

- Kara’s dirty mind/jokes don’t harm/bother them. They’re both females, so both of them are immune to her humor. (all ages)

- Emma burns their marriage certificate, and when Rebecca asks her why, she says ‘Now, you can’t return me without a receipt!’. Rebecca sobs in panic and calls Maddie wailing, resulting in her cursing out Emma for twenty minutes straight. (21 and 23)

- Rebecca calls Emma an idiot, but she points to her wedding ring and says ‘Yeah, I’m your idiot - forever!’ and they both lose it laughing. (23 and 25)

- Rebecca protests that when she goes away for the week to do soccer camp, Emma will be alright - cue her sneezing from seventy miles away. Rebecca freaks out and says she’ll be there in an hour. Vivienne says ‘I think I’m dying inside’, and Rebecca responds with ‘then suffer in silence’. (15 and 17)

- Rebecca’s nickname for Emma is Emmiekins or Kitty Kat, and Emma calls her Honeybee. Chloe and Marinette melt from the cuteness like the proud mothers they are. (all ages)

- When they go to Sweet Scoops with the other girls, Emma asks for a milkshake with two straws. Rebecca blushes profusely and asks her why she’d do such a thing, amazed by her sweetness - until Emma slurps down the shake with two straws by herself and Rebecca is slightly disappointed, but also amused by her fiancee’s silliness. (20 and 22)

- When they’re out on missions at ages sixteen and fourteen, Maddie asks them ‘are you fighting or flirting?’. They respond with ‘Yes’. (all the time.)

- Emma complains at school in the morning (thirteen at the time) about how she didn’t sleep. Maddie tells her, ‘you know that means someone is thinking about you, right?’. Emma doesn’t believe her, and says, ‘Who would think about me in the middle of the night?’. Rebecca panics on the floor while Victoria and Vivienne try to soothe her from her very bi panic attack. (13 and 16)

- On their one year wedding anniversary, they have a party to celebrate and Emma says ‘One year later and we’re still in love’. Rebecca says ‘Yeah! In your face, those who said we wouldn’t last a year!’. Jade’s only protest is ‘I stand by my wedding toast I spoke without being drunk’ while eyeing Kara, who was hilariously drunk at the reception, who is now embarrassed. (23 and 25)

- Kara dedicates a whole new set of jokes to them, and they’re not sure whether to feel flattered or embarrassed. But when Kara brings up how Emma gets turned on when Rebecca curses, they both blush bright red and run the hell away. (14-almost-15 and 17)

- They dress up as Haruka and Michiru from Sailor Moon for their first Halloween as wives. Jade screams and cries because she’s so proud of them. (22 and 24)

- Rebecca and Emma say they both appreciate the little things in life. They then hug Jade, who screams ‘F**k you both, I’m not that short!’. Kailie and Kara burst out in laughter and roll over, Vivienne snickers but tries to hide it, and Maddie applauds them. (14 and 16)

- Emma calls Rebecca dramatic. She says she isn’t, while wearing a handcrafted/made dress with the Kitty Noire and Queen Bee colors with a red rose in between her teeth, down on the floor with a bouquet of 300 roses in all of the different colors clutched in her hands. Emma is blushing like mad while Maddie swoon-melts, Kayla laughs, and Vivienne smiles. (19 and 21)

- Rebecca says to Vivienne that Emma is incredibly cool, and not because of her status. Being the naive innocent bean she is, Vivienne tells her bestie that she doesn’t have to think lowly of herself and that she’s an awesome person too. Rebecca’s response is ‘I’m not ragging on myself, I’m channeling the side of me that’s extremely gay’ and Vivienne shuts the f up. (13 and 15)

- Rebecca says to Emma ‘would you date someone that looks and acts like me?’, and she responds ‘why do you ask, know anybody?’. Rebecca gets really pissed and screeches at the top of her lungs ‘Because I love you, you dumbass cat’. Emma says ‘oh’ three times and is shocked, then she tackles Rebecca onto the floor and hugs her, and they forget everything else, say ‘f**k it’ and start making out. Jade, Vivienne and Maddie remind them where they are (the hotel), but they couldn’t care less. (13 and 15.)

- When their first child (girl) is born, Rebecca suggests they name her Hannah. Emma, being the stupid, pun-making kitty chat she is, plays the Hannah Montana theme and dances around, while her wife and sister shake their heads and laugh at her. (ages 24 and 26.)

- Chloe and Vivienne see Rebecca with a car-sized photo frame that has a picture of Emma in it. They ask her what she has, and holding a cake box in her other hands, she answers ‘a cake’. Sabrina and Kim are crying from laughter in the background while Victoria says ‘subtle, Kim’. (I’m an iCarly fan, lol.) (Emma’s sixteenth birthday, she’s 18.)

- When Tom and Sabine sit down with their granddaughter and her GF for the first time, they call her their other grandchild and she cries of happiness. Emma consoles her and gives her a kiss, while Tom and Sabine are convinced they hurt Rebecca’s feelings. (16 and 13-almost-14.)

- Considering how many stupid things Emma says, Rebecca states that she’s morosexual, meaning she’s attracted to idiots. Emma then asks ‘why is the Pink Panther pink?’, and Rebecca pushes her into her bedroom, taking her clothes off and calling Em a f**king idiot. (ages 17 and 19.)

- Just having seen Emma’s swimsuit photoshoots, Rebecca requests for Vivienne and Nathaniel to draw works of art for her. When they ask what, she responds ‘Emma in a bikini’ and they die of embarrassment. (17 and 19)

- When they got caught inside a closet by their friends, Jade had a nosebleed, Maddie screamed ‘ships are happening’ and Vivienne came in, crashing down the door and screaming ‘where are the ships’ at the top of her lungs. (ages 20 and 22.)

- When she wasn’t sure whether her feelings were true or not, Emma goes to Juleka and Rose to ask them about her love for Rebecca. They ship it so hard and give her happy, kind and supporting advice and she is so very flattered.

- And finally, when Rebecca graduates from high school, Tom and Sabine are there, standing up and screaming ‘THAT’S OUR GRANDDAUGHTER!!! SHE’S GRADUATING!!!!’ and them along with Adrien and Marinette are so proud of her. Chloe, Kim, their other three children and Chloe’s parents are cheering for her too, watching the Dupain-Chengs and Agrestes with smiles. Rebecca tears up and hugs Maddie and Emma, then she hugs Tom and Sabine. Tom almost comes close to suffocating her by mistake, but stops when realizing. (16 and 18)

@extremely-pearlmethirsty you better respond to this post and tell me what you think, because I need feedback on these sweet little headcanons and the ability to make people melt XD. Do it.

(for newbies to my blog, go to the search by on my blog page and type in ‘miraculous ladybug next-gen’ to see more about it. The reference for each child is coming up later tonight for you all to see.)

@purple-moonfang this is adorable, isn’t it?

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basedonatruestory-official · 4 years

Text

CHAPTER THREE: SMELLS LIKE TEEN SPIRIT

It's pouring. It's six in the morning. Whose idea was it to leave this early? And on a Monday morning. Oh right, Mr Dwight. That man is restless.

Teachers and students are gathering to take a giant bus and get to a fancy resort in the city's countryside. The meet-up point is actually right behind Maggie’s house, although I highly doubt anyone except me knows it.

"I'm going to call your last names to check that everyone is here,” Mrs Potts shouts to make sure everybody can hear her. I immediately raise my hand when she calls my name and my classmates must think I'm a nerd, but I'm actually always nervous about being in the spotlight. Does it ever happen to other people? To mentally repeat what they’re going to say or do over and over before actually doing it? I'd be at the supermarket and rehearse what I'm going to say to the cashier while I'm waiting in the queue until it's finally my turn and I stutter and blush all the same.

"What's up, Sallow?"

I jump slightly and turn around to face Maggie, who has apparently popped out of nowhere.

"Hey, ready for the trip?"

"If the weather is any indication, it's going to be a disaster."

Boy, was she right.

Mrs Potts goes over our names once again when we're seated and then the bus driver starts the engine.

"So, you mean to tell me that you've never listened to a Nirvana song?" Maggie enquires shocked.

"I mean, I'm sure I'd like their songs if I ever listened to them!"

"You bet your ass and you are listening to all of them. Right now!" she exclaims mischievously taking her iPod out of her pocket. In between "Polly wants a cracker" and another song, a hand makes its way to Maggie's shoulder from the seats behind us, and taps it lightly. As we both turn around, we are faced with the curly-haired boy who was looking at me last week during PE.

"Hey, I'm Jacob", he states smiling at us.

"Maggie."

"Robin."

"Great! Robin, can I ask you something?"

Remember the blush thing? Yeah, it happens every time someone speaks to me. Of course, it happens now, too.

"Sure."

"Would you mind switching seats with me? Midge here fell asleep", he points at the seat beside him and we all briefly look at the resting form. I stare at him and suddenly feel stupid for thinking he was interested in me, but also somewhat relieved. I suppose that's normal for someone who has never received this kind of attention.

"Of course, no problem."

I completely forget that Maggie might not want a guy she doesn't know to sit next to her, but it's too late now. I turn towards her hoping she might say something.

"Yeah, no problem", she doesn't look me in the eyes and I'm afraid I’ve screwed up.

I continue listening to music on my mp3 player for the next hour or so until Midge wakes up and I know it's not going to be quiet anymore. I've also been trying not to eavesdrop on Maggie and Jacob's conversation, a goal that has become particularly difficult since it looks like Midge is about to have an aneurism if that boy doesn't come back to his seat.

"So, what was that all about?" I ask Maggie once I get back next to her, the journey almost over.

“Ah, you know, he was just being friendly I guess”, she answers shrugging her shoulders and I decide not to insist.

•••

The resort is surrounded by greenery, there are two tennis courts and a horse stable, which we will visit according to what the professors have told us. There’s also a resident goat whose name is Vincent Van Goat; I don’t know whether I should admire the person who came up with that name or despise them for such a bad pun.

We’ve made our way to the reception where Mrs Potts is ready to assign us to our rooms, while Mr Dwight is playing around with Vincent Van Goat. Boys and girls are to sleep in different rooms, this was made very clear since the beginning of the trip, everything else is left completely up to us. Midge immediately asks for the room with four single beds, so that she can stay with her friend Serena and two other girls. After a couple of minutes, there’s only two rooms left and four people remaining; one of the rooms has a king-size bed and the other has two single beds.

“Well, you gals won’t mind sharing a bed, will you?”

The question throws me off and I remain silent. Was this girl implying something? And what’s her name anyway? I have never spoken to her, how would she know if we do, in fact, mind?

“No, we don’t mind”, I hear Maggie’s answer as she steps up beside me.

In just a few minutes we are settled in our room, there’s no need to use the wardrobe and the drawers since we’ll only be staying for one night.

“You don’t mind, right?”

Maggie is looking through her clothes, similarly to when students look in their backpacks when the teacher is about to quiz them.

“Of course I don’t!"

I realise I haven't spoken since the conversation about the rooms and she must have been wondering if I was upset. She briefly smiles at me and resumes what she was doing. I keep thinking about switching seats with Jacob on the bus and potentially ruining my brand new friendship with Maggie, so I decide to get it off my chest.

“I’m sorry if you were uncomfortable with Jacob. Earlier. I shouldn’t have agreed without asking you first.”

I adopt the same technique Maggie was using, I start needlessly moving things in and out of my trolley, waiting for an answer. The room has grown still and, just when I think I’m going to explode, a voice reassures me.

“Look, it’s not a big deal. I simply would have preferred to spend my time with you.”

“…so we’re good?”

“Of course we’re good! We’re sharing a bed, remember? And Midge can have the biggest room for herself and her besties.”

We both laugh at Maggie’s jab, but I suddenly remember that I’ve seen Midge’s friend before. Her name is Serena Scott and she went to middle school with me!

“What’s wrong? Why are you so serious all of a sudden?”

“Sorry, I just remembered something. Serena went to middle school with me”, I explain cautiously. I’m not ready to talk about middle school, not even with Maggie, and I hope she doesn’t pry.

“Okay, so what?”

“So I don’t have the best memories of middle school…”

“Who does?”

I look up at her and I think she understands, without knowing what happened. She gets me.

“I’m sure she doesn’t remember you and, if she does, she won’t bring anything up.”

She looks me straight in the eye, waiting for some kind of response on my end. I eventually nod, feeling more confident, and she smiles seemingly satisfied.

•••

I didn’t think I would ever say this, but watching the sunset with my classmates, with Maggie, over a tennis court in the middle of nowhere makes me feel like I finally belong somewhere. There’s something about the quietness that surrounds us and the pretty colours of the sky; they always stir something up in me, it almost feels like nostalgia. Nostalgia for something I've never had and never known. We’ve played tennis and ridden horses and practised archery and just immersed ourselves in nature for the whole afternoon. It might be the first enjoyable school trip I’ve been to.

We’re now back in our rooms and we have to get ready for dinner. Mr Dwight said that he has a surprise for us afterwards, knowing that man I guess I should be scared.

“Hey, how was lunch at your aunt’s yesterday?!” Maggie shouts from the bathroom.

I roll my eyes just thinking about it. Just as I am about to speak, I get interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Girls, are you ready?"

“Yes, Mrs Potts. We're coming," I reply without opening the door and turning around to call for my friend.

Maggie sprints out of the bathroom wearing only a towel and rushes to get her clothes. I'm not used to being this intimate with someone and I realise I'm continuously diverting my gaze from her. I don't think she notices, and if she does she doesn't say anything.

We enjoy our meal sitting in front of each other and discussing Nirvana songs, my favourite being "Smells like teen spirit", to which Maggie replies that it's too popular and that I should listen to more of their songs. The girls sitting next to us hear me saying the song title and immediately start gushing over how good it is. Maggie simply looks at me and raises her eyebrows, as if her point has just been proven. I hardly contain my laughter while Mr Dwight tries to draw our attention.

"Who wants to know what the surprise is?"

A disco. That's the surprise. There's an empty room with sofas on the second floor of the resort's warehouse and he asked the staff to set up a music system and colourful flashing lights. We're standing outside waiting for everything to be ready.

"Ugh, this is so stupid. Can't we just go to bed?"

"I mean, I'm not excited, but he was actually kind of nice to do this for us," I address Maggie's complaint and she just grunts as a reply.

We make our way upstairs and I have to admit it looks cool. I'm starting to get nervous though, cause I've never gone dancing.

"Hey, you're Robin right?"

I turn around and come face to face with Serena. I freeze and thank goodness Maggie is my friend, cause she saves my butt.

"Hey, I'm Maggie. You are?"

"Serena, nice to meet you," she shakes Maggie's hand and then turns back to me, "We met before, right?"

"Yep, yes. Middle school."

"Yes! What a coincidence that we met again in high school," she smiles brightly and I try to reciprocate, but I'm probably grimacing awkwardly.

"Come on, let's go dance together!"

"Oh I can't- I mean, I don't know how to-"

"Nonsense! You just shift your feet left and right, try to keep up with the rhythm of the song!”

youtube

Maggie, Serena and I have been dancing and jumping for around half an hour when we step aside to chat near a huge window. Maggie is mostly silent while Serena and I talk about middle school and exchange phone numbers. I'm glad and excited to get to know new people, and I also feel relieved Serena doesn't seem to know anything about my past.

"Hey everyone! How's it going?"

Midge has joined us and the conversation rapidly dies down. Maggie is quick to escape, taking advantage of Mrs Potts's proposal to escort anyone who feels tired back to their room. I'm standing awkwardly between Serena and Midge, we're gazing out of the window and somewhat moving around.

It all happens fast. We see Maggie and Mrs Potts reach the bottom of the stairs and cross the courtyard until Jacob comes running after them. Mrs Potts leaves them alone and heads inside the resort, Midge is boiling with anger and I'm afraid she might burst. I'm slightly nervous too, but I can't understand why. Jacob reaches for Maggie's hand and she immediately pulls away, turns around and pushes through the main entrance. Midge and I rush towards the staircase, me chasing Maggie and her striving to win over Jacob now that he's been rejected. I don't stop when we get to the courtyard, Vincent Van Goat attempts to charge me but gives up when I slalom between the other two.

When I get to our room, Maggie has already put on her pyjamas and is ready to go to sleep.

"What happened to you?"

I realise I've been standing in the doorway, panting, due to my increasingly faster running.

"Well, I saw you. With Jacob," I reply, closing the door and getting closer to the bed.

"Great," she grits through her teeth. I sit on my side of the bed while she gets under the covers and crosses her arms. A smile threatens to spread on my face at her grumpy demeanour.

"He asked me out, ok?"

"Ok. And you said no?"

"Of course I said no! Boys are dumb."

"No, hey, I totally get it! Boys are very dumb."

"I mean, I know he's cute. Half the girls in our class want to date him."

"Right. Yes, he is cute."

My hands are sweating, this kind of conversation makes me uncomfortable. Maggie raises her eyes to meet mine, we hold each other's gaze for a few seconds and then we're both startled by a text notification on my phone.

"Um, it's Serena. She says everyone is going back to their rooms because of... Well, they're going back to their rooms and they want to have a slumber party in Midge's room. Wait, isn't it forbidden to go to other people's rooms?"

"Whatever, I'm not going anyway."

"It could be fun."

"You go, don't worry about me," she states curling on her side and facing the other side of the room.

I bounce my phone on my knee and resolve to get out of my clothes and into my pyjamas.

"Tell you what, I'll go over to Midge's room, see what the fuss is all about and report back to you. If it sounds fun you're going back with me. Deal?"

"You're doubling the chances of getting caught by Mrs Potts. You know her room is basically in front of ours, right?"

"I know."

After a few moments of silence, I hear a bashful "deal" and smile.

My journey to Midge's room, to the other end of the hallway, is nothing short of a spy mission. Actually, the first trip goes smoothly since no one is around. After establishing that the slumber party is, indeed, very fun, I inform our classmates that I'm going to get Maggie and bring her to the room. I'm making my way back to our room and feel the tension rising, it's making me sweat a bit. Nonetheless, I reach my destination and persuade my friend to come with me.

"Come on, you can't let one boy ruin your high school experiences!"

This seems to be convincing enough and we quietly open the door once again. We stay close to the walls and communicate with hand gestures. We’ve almost reached Midge’s door when we hear footsteps coming our way. I signal for Maggie to go first and she manages to get in, but I run into Mr Dwight.

“Professor-“

“Ah!”

He interrupts me and places his index finger on his lips. I stare at him with my mouth slightly open and continue watching him as he walks to his room without breaking eye contact. As soon as I get to the party, the girls ask me what has happened and we all laugh about Mr Dwight’s behaviour. Maggie and I get to meet some girls who are generally very quiet in class: Vanessa, Charlotte and Silke. We spend a few hours laughing about our other classmates and our teachers, then we ultimately decide it’s time to go to bed. The alarm is set for 7 and we’ll have to make the journey back to town.

Maggie and I exit the room first, we slowly and safely make our way back, but we hear Mrs Potts’s door open just as we’re about to get in. We look at each other and know we’ll get caught, we close our eyes and prepare for the scolding we deserve, but it never arrives. Instead, we hear Mr Dwight’s talking. Well, slurring more than talking. We realise he’s distracting Mrs Potts to let us go back to our room so we waste no more time and silently thank him. We burst out laughing and fall on the bed, trying to be as quiet as possible.

•••

The next morning, waking up is hell and we have dark circles under our eyes. Mrs Potts is surely starting to suspect something as we spend the whole ride sleeping. Before dozing off, I think back to last night and consider I might have misjudged Midge. Maybe she’s not as bad as she seems. She’s also Serena’s new best friend, apparently, so there must be something good in her.

Read on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/837733367-based-on-a-true-story-chapter-three-smells-like

Read Chapter Four: We’ll Make You Scream.

#based on a true story #based on a true story chapter three #chapter three: smells like teen spirit #smells like teen spirit #robin sallow #maggie ivory #serena scott #midge nourse #mr dwight #LGBTQ story #LGBTQ storyline #LGBTQ character #LGBTQ characters

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fox-guardian · 5 years

Text

My Underdeveloped Story

So this post is mainly for context regarding my Dreamscape story and the characters in it. I'll probably make posts about it so I just wanted to give context for stuff. There is basically no plot aside from a rough idea for the very beginning, so this is just the setting and characters.

Setting:

Time period: Modern day

Places: Earth (somewhere in Arizona) and the Dreamscape (pretty much only Feveren)

Characters:

(I've introduced some of them before, but I'll just give some quick descriptions here.)

Frederic:

Species: Human

Race: Mixed, but mostly East Asian

Gender: Male, he/him

Sexuality: Straight....?

Zodiac Sign: Scorpio

Birthday: Nov 14

Age: 28

Occupation: Office job at his brother's company.

Interests: Dabbled in genetic engineering in his late teens-early 20s, his true passion is designing fashion and dreams of having celebrities wear his clothes. He loves pie. His favorite colors are mauves and pinks. Though he wears blue all the time because bAcksTorY. He also becomes fascinated with Feverenian culture.

Relationships: Romantic? None. Ever. Except for a 1st grade sweetheart but that's it. Platonic? He has a brother named Aaron that owns a company that Frederic works at (not too major of a character), he basically adopted a girl named Anne but they're more like best friend roommates, has a giant dog named Mutt, talks to his parents a fair amount, and befriends the "Feverenian Crew" as I shall call them I guess. He's also friends with some co-workers but he's not too close.

Major Flaws: Highly secretive and not trusting, pretty paranoid (he has a modified security system with cameras and put a tracker on Mutt and Anne but they're both aware of it so it ain't that bad) he's an insomniac, he is very insecure about his appearance and his physical "flaws" (i.e. dark circles, a few moles here and there, his "puffy, sunburnt looking" cheeks, etc.) and he has trouble completely being himself (He was bullied throughout his life and hides certain aspects to reduce said bullying. Like wearing blue instead of pink to look less "gay" but keeping his flamboyant personality and some of his mannerisms because that's too much work to change. His changes became to consistent for him to change for fear of ridicule. He wears pink on Wednesdays tho. Y'all know why.) He is very protective of Anne and doesn't like having her with boyfriends for fear of her getting hurt, and fear of losing her as a companion. He has a fear/delusion deep down that the people around him don't really care about him, and fake it to get something out of spending time with him.

Anne:

Species: Human

Race: White

Gender: Female, she/her

Sexuality: Straight

Zodiac Sign: Libra

Birthday: Oct 12

Age: 17

Occupation: Student, no job yet

Interests: Drawing, video games, doing dumb stuff with her friends, memes, puns, etc. Her favorite color is purple.

Relationships: Romantic? Heheh maybe. Platonic? Frederic is her guardian, they're besties, she has a group of friends at school, her two best school friends are Dennis and America, Mutt is BFF (best furry friend), she is very close with Osiris (heheheh) and alright with the rest of the Fev Crew, especially Rose.

Major Flaws: I guess her being a double amputee is one. Her legs were surgically removed from just below the knee due to an infection and she now has several sets of prosthetic limbs that Frederic made for her. Not too much of a flaw though, she isn't too disadvantaged by it. She doesn't tell Frederic too many of her problems because she knows he deals with a lot and she almost feels responsible for him at times when he gets in an emotionally bad place, so she also has a weight on her shoulders of supporting him while not wanting to drag him down with her issues. (Wow what a run-on) She's very mature and feels that she needs to be in order to "prove" to Frederic that she can be out on her own.

Dez:

Species: Feverenian Royal

Race: Royal I guess lol

Gender: Male, he/him

Sexuality: Low-key Bi

Zodiac Sign: Scorpio

Birthday: Oct 30

Age: Actual Years? 34. Royal Years? 26.

Occupation: King of Feveren and Royal Executioner

Interests: Alcohol (he's not an alcoholic he just wants to open a distillery one day), anime/manga, torture methods (yeah that's dark, but he's the executioner and that's how it be in Feveren) His favorite color is red, he likes his steak rare as heck.

Magical Abilities: Fire element, he can breathe fire, control fire, turn his hair into fire, go into a fiery rage, etc. He's also immortal in the sense that he can at least regenerate from any wound. If he got blown to bits or incinerated by lasers he would just shwoop back into place. Whether or not he lives forever is yet to be known.

Relationships: Romantic? 5 ex-girlfriends, one current crush. Platonic? He considers Victor to be his best friend, he and his sister Rose are pretty close, he's very close to Frederic and Anne, Mutt loves him, he's on good terms with most of the Palace Staff, and he does not like Osiris.

Major Flaws: Starts off pretty arrogant and lazy. He's pretty casual, he has the power and luxury of a King, but lives as a casual peasant (Meaning he dresses and behaves casually for someone of his status. He wears suits, but they aren't very fancy, and he often engages in casual conversation making crude jokes and chatting with the staff. He still has and wants all the luxuries of Royalty though, like people bowing at his feet and all that power-trippy stuff.) He's an idiot. Very oblivious, not very bright in most areas, and not the wisest either. Sort of a brat.

This is only 3/7 characters but this is raking forever to save an what not so here these babs are for now hnnnngh.

#dreamscape #ocs #my ocs #frederic van svheit #dez royal #anne #long post

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differentworlds-fiction · 5 years

Text

TARIN

In terms of hair, complacency with the regularly recurrent had never been Marjani Hunter’s forte. Whether she sacrificed a good night’s rest to scrounge the depths of Youtube for in-depth protective style tutorials, or she begrudgingly put her trust in the hands of a beautician from around the way with hopes of an end-result that exceeded her expectations, my friend tended to experiment with her hair quite often; leaving no style -- or color -- unattempted.

Over the years, I bore witness to the multitude of drastic hair transformations -- the burnt orange dye job I happened to grow fond of after a week of loathing, the effervescent bubblegum pink travesty she soon followed the former up with that haplessly damaged her hair by the onset of summer, and the befitting buzz cut she wore proudly subsequent to vowing she would ‘never allow an ounce of relaxer touch her head again’.

In true Marjani fashion, she revoked her pledge. And by that very same summer’s end, she commenced to relaxing, chopping and dyeing her short amount of hair that barely made it past her ears, settling on an auburn rinse styled into the cut reminiscent to Halle Berry’s in Boomerang.

However, this particular ‘do she chose to sport trumped them all.

She emerged from the sitting area in the lobby of my building wearing a wig the color of slime green; the neon colored locks cascaded down her back and its feathered fringe strands continuously grooved against her eyelashes. By the front desk, my eyes widened in astonishment; the sight alone prompted me to stuff my phone into the tiny satchel that draped along my shoulder and stare longingly at her as she gaited towards me, scooting by the passersby who’d failed to properly excuse themselves.

My eyes narrowed the longer I peered at her.

Marjani assessed my expression with a raised eyebrow, waiting for my initial reaction.

“...I actually like it.”

In response, Marjani kissed her teeth. “Stop lyin’.”

“No, really I do. The color might’ve caught me off guard at first, but I like it on you. Looks good.” I explained, taking notice to the subtle grin tugging at her heavily glossed lips. That subtle component of her fully made up face complimented the vivid smokey-eye I presumed she spent a majority of her time on.

I crouched down and inspected the wispy hairs, wondering if she’d styled the wig herself or paid someone to hack it for her. “It’s secure, right?”

“Girl, of course. I’m not about to be out here with my shit slippin’ off. This,” She tugged down the length of the wig’s pin-straight shaft, “ain’t going nowhere.” Her hands then fussed with the drawstrings that altered her ruched top. Gold chains dangled from her neck, exposing her decolletage coated in a cast that shimmered from the recessed lighting fixtures. “Don’t you ever get the urge to switch it up a bit?” She queried, messing with the braid out I managed to salvage when returning to New York.

Since my departure from Hill Sunday morning, it remained pulled into a pineapple until I mustered up enough patience to let it down and revive it with water and a generous amount of curling cream.

“I haven’t gotten the urge to make a drastic change to my hair. Not yet, at least.” I answered truthfully. “Who knows, maybe in a few months, I’ll want some highlights --”

“-- Or maybe you’ll cut it all off…and get some highlights put in to, you know, liven it up.”

“I don’t know about chopping all of my hair off, Jani.”

“What’s there to think about?” She questioned. “I read an article once that stated women should chop their hair off at least once in their lifetime. I can’t even begin to explain how liberating -- how freeing that shit feels! I’m aware that hair is such a big deal to us,” she ran a finger over the top of her hand to indicate her complexion, “but that needs to stop.”

I nodded in agreeance, recounting instances throughout my adolescence where hair, its texture, and length remained a central fixture of one’s identity, and caused such a hangup amongst the women that resided around us. Even my decision to no longer routinely succumb to the overheated bonnet dryers at the local Dominican hair salon garnered a lighthearted scolding from Mama Sarah years ago, especially when I failed to conform to the unspoken tradition of taking Ayla to get her hair straightened for school pictures and preferred her to wear natural protective styles.

Too immersed in my own thoughts, I hadn’t noticed Marjani bringing her hand forth and toying with the coiled wisps hanging past my neck. “I could see you with a low cut like Angela Bassett in Waiting to Exhale. Maybe even something a lil’ shorter. That Amber Rose buzz-cut might look fresh on you, girl.”

“I’d never.” I expressed vehemently, feigning my doubtfulness of possessing enough oomph to pull it off.

“Hey, you never know.” Jani retorted, adjusting the strap of her shoulder bag onto her shoulder. She attempted to pick up the pace in an effort to remain beside me, producing shorter strides as she no longer sauntered on the soles of her chunky platform sandals.

On the way out of the lobby, I acknowledged the building’s concierge manning down the anchoring front desk by nodding in his direction, receiving one in return and a pursed, yet amicable grimace as well. Rather than wasting fare by lazily hailing down a cab to take us to our destination, Marjani and I opted to walk the two blocks and enjoy the tepid, night air that embraced our skin. In the midst of making aimless small talk and bringing each other up to speed on what’s occurred since our last outing, and taking selfies all while dodging civilians passing by, a subtle mention of Hill was made, followed by an inquiry about an apparent photo that was making rounds through a few celebrity gossip sites.

“You know they’re callin’ you a mystery woman, right?” Jani chortled, stuffing her smartphone into the open compartment of her shoulder bag. “Let’s hope those crazies don’t find your place of employment. Some of those self-proclaimed journalists -- and I do use that term very loosely -- find stuff out like that for the sake of ‘investigative reporting’.” She expressed, using air quotes. “Next thing you know, there’s a bunch of assholes with cameras waiting for you, ready to pry right into your business as if they’re entitled to it.”

I halted in moving any further and looked her square in the eye. “I highly doubt that’ll happen.”

“Mhm,” Jani grumbled, “you’d be surprised…”

“Let’s not even put that into the universe, because that’s the last thing I need right now.”

“Right.” She agreed and nudged me in the arm to walk again. “Can’t say that I’m not surprised at all this, though. When you called me from Vegas, I was a bit skeptical of it -- of him -- because at the end of the day, Hill is an athlete. Most of them tend to run through women like they run through drawers…”

“I know --”

“One could argue that the athletes get more action than the singers. Maybe even more than the rappers…”

“Yes. I know. I get it, Marjani.”

Heaving an exasperated sigh, she pursed her lips together, preventing herself from uttering another word on the matter once she sensed my sudden uneasiness about where the conversation was beginning to head. “Sorry.” She said apologetically.

“It’s just that,” I paused, “I like him, is all.”

The corners of her lined lips hiked up a bit at my utterance, hardly faltering when I too allowed a grin to etch its way across my face.

“What?”

She was hesitant to answer.

“I haven’t heard you say that about anyone since Richie.” She stated, the corners of her lips hiked up a bit and faltered into a grin of indifference. A sigh swept past her lips. “If anyone would’ve told me months ago that my prudish bestie was going to dust off the cobwebs and get her pipes cleaned --”

“--Marjani, please stop!” I insisted. My hand shot up and I could feel heat rushing to the height of my cheeks, albeit, laughter couldn’t help but spill from my parted lips. Upon hearing her spiel of laughter, I guffawed, feeling tears brimming my eyes as I keeled over and giggled.

“I’m just saying,” she managed to get out, “I didn't know you had it in you. No pun intended.”

Subsequent to regrouping by a nearby bakery and reluctantly answering a few invasive questions, we reached our destination; past the Chelsea Market, between a trendy boutique and a deserted eatery, was a nondescript bar with people drifting inside, paying an entry fee before crossing the threshold.

In droves, people packed into the cramped establishment equipped with minimal stools surrounding the crowded bar. Manning the taps and gliding beers down the sticky surface was a buxom woman dressed casually in a black t-shirt; in bold letters ‘ROUGE’ was emblazoned by what appeared to a feathered boa stretched fiercely across her bust area.

A mashup of pop hits from the early 2000s emitted through the speakers, inciting the individuals around Jani and me to sway along to the infectious interpolating cadence.

My eyes wandered towards the horde of chairs surrounded a makeshift stage. And behind the stage were pieces of shimmery garland that dangled from the ceiling, distinctly warning the patrons not to advance past the festoon of hung decorations.

“Your friend from the graduate’s program...,” I leaned close to Marjani, “is he here already?”

After ordering a disproportionate vodka tonic, she took a timid sip and squeezed a lime wedge into her highball glass prior to simply muttering, “yep.”

Sometime in between Marjani downing the rest of her cocktail and me screening my phone for any text messages from either Hill or my mother concerning Ayla’s finicky request for dinner, she began divulging about her newfound friend she’d met by chance.

He was far from a veteran, per his own admission to Marjani one afternoon during a mandatory digital fabrication workshop, albeit, Raheem Lee was more than content with his weekly residency at ROUGE. His penchant for female impersonation garnered a bit of a buzz throughout Manhattan more for his performative imitation of Whitney Houston that seemed to go over well with the masses.

Unlike the previous shows we’ve attended on our respective celebratory birthday outings that were oversaturated with performers impersonating the likes of Cher, Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, Lady Gaga, and Kylie Minogue, this particular drag show where black and brown patrons predominantly frequented highlighted entertainers of color as drag queens chose to skillfully pay homage.

Upon being provided with her second overpriced cocktail, Marjani led the way toward the adjoined alcove. Tonight’s show attendees began claiming seats closest to the stage, leaving us to rush toward the two empty chairs placed some feet away.

Simultaneous to us dropping our bags on the lucite tabletop between us, brilliant lights flickered on and averted towards the stage’s center; the emcee emerged, donning a sheer fabric dress bedecked with tropical leaves.

In a sassy, high-pitched tone, she revealed her name was Chi-Chi; the seductive introduction was followed up with a pose that showcased her toned legs and jeweled stilettos. As the crowd waited for the actual showcase to begin, Chi-Chi made her rounds amongst the inebriated patrons, asking outwardly invasive questions that proved to be funnier than either of us let on. In an instant, the beaming light fixtures transitioned to a soft, pink hue, intensifying the moment Chi-Chi sashayed toward the far end; the scanty, exotic green number hung loosely against her, threatening to groove down the ample curvature of her broad shoulder.

She extended her hand forward, and as if on cue, another impersonator strutted on stage, inciting an uproar from the crowd that the emcee hadn’t expected. In comparison to Chi-Chi’s stature, she was slimmer, and a little on the petite side even when wearing a pair of heels. Her honey-colored hair, both tousled and grazing past her shoulders, had been held up by a bow that complimented the dress stopping right above her knee.

Across the small table, Marjani swallowed hard; her eyebrows rose and her eyes beamed with excitement. I took notice of the expression bestowed upon Marjani’s face. It was a mixture between awe and intrigue -- a silent reverence and fascination as she stared longingly at the other individual standing inches away from Chi-Chi.

The applause and hollered praises continued, making it difficult to hear the emcee formally introduce who I concluded to be Marjani’s friend dressed as Whitney Houston.

The only utterance audible was a single mononym, Monaé.

Rather than following suit after her heavily done up counterpart by prematurely engaging with the people in attendance, Monaé placed her hand on her hip; the subtle signal prompted the DJ to cue the music, and soon, a familiar rhythmic dance beat pervaded the room from the bass-equipped speakers set up nearby. My eyes remained affixed to Monaé as she moved across the stage, lip-synching every word of “How Will I Know” with ease.

She bopped and swayed emphatically, tossing her hair from side to side in lieu of the awaiting patrons holding out dollar bills. Without missing a step, she took the folded currency into her possession, coolly stuffing it into the padded brassiere exposed from the tank dress she wore. A smiling Marjani rummaged through her rather large hobo bag in search of her wallet, prompting me to do the same and retrieve any cash I had on-hand. As Monaé strutted off stage, making even strides in our direction, a few bills dangled from our hands. She passed by a group of guys, politely grasping each hand and giving them an affectionate squeeze in an expression of thanks. She strutted over, stopping only briefly to receive the dollar bills and caress the fullness of her cheeks.

Monaé maintained her character all without incident and proceeded to get the rest of her cash as the current song faded out.

***

The following morning, afflicted with a sore throat from unapologetically butchering ballads and reciting raunchy rap lyrics, I hurried to the nearest coffeehouse for chamomile tea before sliding into the awaiting town car provided by Cara for my mid-morning excursion. After hearing of the related news from Cheyenne that I cut out making the pointless commute to the office just to simply rush and meet with Haneef Parker, an email idled my notification center, stating that a chauffeured car service would be parked in front of my building.

In the palm of my left hand, my iPhone danced erratically against my skin, prompting me to stare downward at the new notification illuminating the once darkened screen. A text from Cheyenne confirming a scheduled phone call set for three o’clock sharp covered the lock-screen image, a capitalized ‘DON’T FORGET!!!’ soon followed.

Despite having to reroute and cut through various side streets after a fender bender between two motorists, the driver pulled up along the curb residence crafted by brick. Terracotta pots containing red begonias were placed on the outer ends of each step, contrasting with the black door and dark shutters framing the sashed windows. The minor yet noticeable domestic additions quickly reminded me of my sole purpose for meeting the R&B singer at his West Village townhome; a surprise baby shower for his pregnant significant other needed to be thoroughly planned.

My stare shifted and I made contact with the individual idling the driver’s seat.

Rhythmic thumps pervaded the small confines of the town car as the driver produced repetitive taps along the steering wheel, matching the cadence to the low tempo song pouring through the radio. Through the rearview mirror, the two of us made eye contact, exchanging courteous smiles briefly. I exited the car with my belongings in tow and expressed that I should be no longer than an hour right before closing the car door.

I raced up the four steps and knocked on the front door.

A short woman donning a pleated short-sleeved tunic and matching slacks answered, offering a warm smile.

“Hello, I’m Tarin -- Tarin Mena. I’m here to meet with Haneef --”

“Yes. He is expecting you,” The woman scooted aside, “right this way.”

I followed her beyond the foyer and through a hallway with walls decorated with canvases that combining elements of text and image. Ornamented tapestries draped along the wall adjoining a set of double doors that were left slightly ajar.

“I’d be more than happy to dispose of that for you...” The woman I presumed to be the housekeeper reached for my empty Starbucks’ cup but hesitated, fighting the urge to ask whether the disposable grande cup was, in fact, empty.

Obliging I handed her the cup, and she motioned toward the opened double doors.

“He’s in there,” was all she muttered before turning on the soles of her tennis shoes and heading back down the hall.

Heaving a low sigh, I tapped lightly against one of the doors, stealing peeks of Haneef seated comfortably with her sock covered feet propped atop a coffee table. His eyes drooped mercilessly as he grasped the remote, lowering the volume as political pundits debated about the current state of healthcare on MSNBC. I cleared my throat, garnering Haneef to turn his head in the direction of the door.

The barest hint of a smile played about his lips, dissolving just as quickly as it appeared.

“You don’t strike me as the type to reside out in these parts.” I entered the room, although I had yet been formally invited in by the crooner himself, “and we could’ve rescheduled to meet at a later date.”

“My girl’s out of town visiting her folks until tomorrow. Today was the only we could’ve met up without her finding out.” He explained, muting the mounted television entirely.

Having very little desire to waste his time, I dug into my back pocket and recovered my phone and unlocked it; the most recent tab displayed a former textile warehouse that had been renovated.

“I strongly suggest the full venue buyout; the upstairs and downstairs. With the additional space, there’s room for more possible seating, and tables. If you want, we could incorporate games throughout the gathering.”

His smile reappeared, putting me in the mind of the same grin plastered across countless magazine posters that were once taped to my bedroom wall. It was infectious in the way that, after a beat of silence, I too produced a smile and bashfully averted my stare elsewhere. My attention happened to fall on the only framed photo set upon the coffee table.

Placed beside a stack of hard-covered books was a black and white snapshot of who I presumed to be his expecting significant other, clutching her protruding baby bump with Haneef’s hands placed over hers.

“Now about food,” I cleared my throat and winced slightly at the soreness, “initially, I planned to bring in a catering team based in Midtown. Unfortunately, since we couldn’t get a move on planning the event, they won’t able to provide their services. There is, however, an executive chef that’s working on another event I’m planning. I’m supposed to get on a conference call with him and his partner this afternoon. If there’s availability, I could request a quote, and follow-up with you before five o’clock...”

“I hear the ‘but’ in your voice.” He noted, toying with the hem of his t-shirt.

“There was,” I confirmed, and released a breath.

His stare that was once trained upon the muted television shifted in my direction, lingering as she nodded in the direction of the empty space beside him on the loveseat.

I sat down, facing forward with my palms resting atop the slim-fitted slacks I wore.

“Before I request a quote from the chefs for the shower, I need confirmation on how many guests are attending. We can’t move any further unless I have a set guest list with names and reliable contact information.”

“I hear you,” Haneef uttered plainly. “You’ll have your list before three. I’ll make sure of it.”

Silence loomed over the quaint den until Haneef sat forward to straighten out his limbs.

“Still wiped out since coming off the tour, huh?”

He blew out a breath to conceal the hearty laughter escaping him, “You have no idea.”

“I can imagine,” I said, pursing my lips together soon afterward.

Letting out an exasperated breath, he muttered something about time finally catching up with him. “Touring never felt that physically taxing on me, ever. This week was only a taste of what’s to come.” Haneef uttered, running a hand down his face. His lips parted as if he were about to utter something else, but the light raps against the den’s double door deterred him from speaking altogether.

Poking her head between the small space, his housekeeper announced that brunch was ready and being served in the kitchen. She looked at me questionably. Her brown eyes held some hesitancy, just as they when she felt inclined to take my thermal cup upon my arrival.

Her trained glare prompted me to stand and gather my belongings.

“Yo,” Haneef called out. Had he not tugged lightly onto my blouse sleeve, I would’ve assumed he was speaking to the housekeeper. “You ever had spinach frittatas?”

“Not to my recollection, no.”

“Well, would you care to stick around to have some?”

Without hesitation, I nodded, certain that the growl emitting from my stomach would have been a dead giveaway of how hungry I was.

#Different Worlds #Different Worlds Fiction #fiction

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sassycassie-s-writing · 6 years

Text

Maskless

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Dick Grayson/Nightwing

Rating: PG-11/T- (for violence)

Original Idea: This imagine by @imaginesofthefandoms101

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) I wrote two versions of this before deciding that the first one was terrible and completely rewrote it. Hope you like it! If anyone’s curious about version 1 I might post it on my main blog. I also really love writing Nightwing’s puns. @welovegroot @batboys-and-other-messes

^^^^^

“‘Night Stan!” I called to my boss as I left the building. The elderly man waved at me with a little smile. I beamed back and ducked out the door.

Blüdhaven after dark was scarier than Gotham. I’d lived in both and I could say that for certain.

Technically it was still my opinion but Blüdhaven was scary. The shadows seemed like they were alive and writhed with what little light illuminated the darkness from streetlights and billboards in a terrifying dance. The night was overcast, as usual, so no moonlight made it quite to the ground, even though I could see the slightly brighter patch of clouds where the moon was soaring through the sky.

I pulled my jacket tighter around me as a chill breeze blew down the street. Why had I agreed to work late? None of the public transit was running, my feet were sore, and I lived a mile-and-a-half away. Not to mention it was getting cold.

Shivering, I zipped my jacket up and started walking faster, eager to get home. To take a warm shower and drink hot chocolate or make a can of soup or something.

I had half a mind to call my best friend and ask him to come walk me home. He was a BPD cop and would literally drop everything to come get me. But… he was probably overworked and exhausted, as usual. And busy. Always busy.

As though by some psychic power of the universe, my phone started buzzing in my pocket.

Incoming Call… Bestie (Dick)

“Hello?” I asked, pressing the phone to my ear.

“Did I wake you?”

“No. Worked late. On my way home.”

“You’re walking?!”

“Gotta,” I said. “The buses and stuff don’t run this late.”

“I'm gonna come get you,” Dick said.

“Don’t bother,” I said. “It’s okay. You’re busy. What were you calling about, anyway?”

“Doesn’t matter anymore. Let me come get you.”

“Dick, don’t worry about me. I'm already more than halfway home,” I lied. I was nowhere close. He didn’t need to know that. I was maybe a quarter-mile away from work. Maybe.

“I do worry about you because I know this city.”

“Then just stay on the phone with me till I get home,” I said.

“… I can do that.”

“Good. While you’re doing that, why did you call in the first place?”

“I was hoping to convince you to go to the BPD’s Halloween party with me.”

“The police department is having a Halloween party?” I asked, pausing for a moment at a crosswalk.

“Yup. I was hoping you’d go with me.”

“What, like a date?”

“No. Everyone at the precinct knows you and likes you from when you stop by with cookies. Just come as a friend. My coworkers would love to see you. We can be ketchup and mustard or something.”

“Dang it,” I said jokingly, crossing the street when the signal changed. “I was really hoping you were going to say Batman and Robin.”

Dick snorted. “Who’d be who?” he teased.

“I’d be Robin. Duh. I'm a shrimp,” I said, laughing. Dick chuckled. “I'm just kidding. That might actually be hard.”

“No it might be fun. Better than ketchup and mustard. Though you’re pale enough to be salt and I'm tan enough to be pepper,” he remarked.

“I am not wearing a seasoning shaker to a par—ARGH!” I shrieked as hands caught my arms behind me and yanked me into an alley. Screaming, I kicked and thrashed. “Dick!” I shouted, knowing that even if he could hear me—assuming my phone hadn’t broken when I dropped it—he wouldn’t be able to make it to me on time. I hadn’t even told him where I was.

Slamming my elbow into the man’s solar plexus did nothing but jar my funny bone and send tingles all the way down my arm and into my fingers. I huffed in frustration and tried wrenching my arms out of his grip. No avail.

I kept struggling as two other men loomed from the shadows, each one taking one of my ankles as I tried to get away. “This one’s a fighter,” Left Ankle Grabber said.

“Fighters ain’t worth it, boss,” Right Ankle Snatcher added, voice considerably lower. “Need easy targets.”

Arm Holder chuckled. “No. This one… this one will break,” he said, voice low and way to close to my ear for comfort. His breath smelled terrible—cigarettes and coffee. I coughed and wriggled, suspended in the air by three men who could easily overpower me. “They just need the right… hammer.”

I screamed and jerked around, trying to get away. Nothing. If I could reach my pepper spray in my jacket pocket…

Whoosh! Thud! A shadow dropped out of nowhere from above behind the ankle grabbers. Whatever the shadow was straightened up. They were backlit but I recognized a human silhouette with sticks poking out from behind almost like shoulder antennae.

Nightwing. Blüdhaven’s protector.

“Y’know,” a voice that was vaguely familiar but harder than any voice I’d ever heard (since I’d never met the Batman) remarked casually. “Taking care of low level scum like you guys is… right up my alley!” He snapped his fingers and made finger guns at the men. “Eh? Huh? Good one, right?” he asked. His smile was so blindingly bright that I could see it in the darkness. “‘Cuz, y’know, we’re in an alley?”

No response.

The newcomer sighed. “No? Okay then,” he relented.

Nightwing whipped his escrima sticks out, twirling them around his hands, and whacked Right Ankle Snatcher in the side of the neck.

I got dropped on my butt unceremoniously by all three of them in favor of a fight. I scrambled out of the way as Nightwing successfully defended himself in a three-on-one, close combat situation. Looking around frantically, I tried to find my phone in the darkness. Hopefully it hadn’t broken. Dick was a cop. Maybe he was listening. Maybe he’d had dispatch send someone…

Nightwing did a flip over Arm Holder’s head and landed between me and them, blocking punches on his sticks and with his own arms and hands.

Left Ankle Grabber managed to get a solid punch that Nightwing couldn’t dodge since he was preoccupied with the other two.

Nightwing’s head snapped to the side so hard his mask popped off, landing near my knee.

The force of the punch sent Nightwing spinning down onto his hands and knees, facing me.

He coughed and grunted, eyes screwed shut. “I saw that coming,” he muttered, tilting his head up to get back to his feet.

“Oh my gosh,” I whispered as I caught sight of his face in the shadows. My next word was barely more than a breath. “… Dick…?”

It was definitely his face. His nose. The eye shape. Jawline. Hairstyle. How had I never noticed before?

He must have heard me because his eyes snapped open, almost scared. They were a piercing blue I knew better than I knew my own eyes. Before he could say anything, Arm Holder was hauling him to his feet. “We’ll teach you to mess with our town, punk,” he snarled.

Nightwing snorted. “Wow. I'm so scared,” he deadpanned.

He twisted and whacked Arm Holder in the ribs with his escrima stick, getting released from Arm Holder’s grip. The three creeps ganged up on him. He seemed to struggle a little since he was outnumbered.

I bit my lower lip and curled up, terrified, and unable to look away. I could swear I heard the crunch of a collarbone shattering. Whose collarbone, I didn’t know. I hoped it wasn’t Nightwing’s.

As the fight stretched seconds to minutes, I got one better look at Nightwing’s bare face. There was no denying it. Dick Grayson, my best friend, was Nightwing. The Blüdhaven vigilante. I gasped and could have laughed if I wasn’t so scared.

I watched, unable to do anything else, worried for Nightwing and praying he wouldn’t get too hurt.

Left Ankle Grabber got a little too close to me. I yelped and scrambled back.

Nightwing—Dick—glanced at me. He clenched his jaw and bent his knees.

With five good whacks, he knocked all three men unconscious within seconds. He flipped one of his sticks in his hand and shoved them both back into the holsters on his back. His face was still mostly covered in shadows. He scrambled to find his mask on the ground, keeping his face turned away from me.

The fear of the situation dissipated, leaving only frustration in its wake. “Dick, stop trying to hide your face,” I said. “I know it’s you.” I leaned forward and scooped up his mask where it was near my knee and flung it at him. It bounced off his elbow.

He caught it and stuck it on his face. Then turned to leave.

I got to my feet. “Richard!” I snapped, a little louder. “Don’t you dare. You’re my best friend!”

Nightwing stopped and then turned back to me. His face caught the light of an electric billboard. He looked like he was caught between angry and disappointed.

“I… I… you… you weren’t supposed to know.”

“How long have you been keeping this from me?” When had I met Dick? Was it before or after Nightwing turned up in Blüdhaven?

Dick clenched his jaw and set his fists on his hips in the same motion he would have shoved his hands in his pockets had he been wearing civilian clothes.

“Not long enough.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why?” My voice was sharp and angry to my ears, but also hurt.

He sighed and took a step closer to me, resting his hands on my shoulders. He reached up with his left hand and brushed my messy hair out of my face and back behind my ear before tracing the backs of his gloved fingers down my jaw. “To protect you.”

How was I supposed to respond to that? I was still shocked that he was Nightwing, frustrated that he didn’t tell me earlier, and a little betrayed too. “Protect me from what?” I finally managed to say.

“When you live the life I do… you make enemies,” Dick said. “Those enemies can and will target the people I care about if they know I care about them. Nightwing can’t have civilian friends. Not if they want to be safe.” Dick bent down and scooped up my phone. The screen had cracked. He held it out to me. “I guess… I guess nothing will ever be the same as it was now,” he added quietly.

I took the phone and shoved it in my jacket pocket. “No kidding,” I said.

“Let me walk you home.” He gestured to the alley exit and tapped his ear. “Oracle, do me a favor and notify the BPD of my current location. Three attackers are unconscious. Victim’s safe,” he said into a comm-link I hadn’t noticed before. There was a brief pause during which this “Oracle” presumably said something. Dick nodded. “Copy that.”

We left the alley. I tried to think of something to say, but everything I thought of was either overly angry—like, too indignantly angry for the situation—or just seemed really lame.

I didn’t want to apologize because I didn’t know what I’d be apologizing for. I didn’t really have an outburst. But I really couldn’t think of anything to say.

Dick sighed as we reached about the halfway point between my work and my apartment. “Look, I'm sorry that I didn’t tell you. I know that must hurt. But I was trying to do the right thing. I care about you way too much to put you in unnecessary danger. You’re… you’re the only relationship I have with someone who doesn’t have a costume and an alter ego. And it’s one of the best relationships I have.”

I glanced up at him. “Thanks,” I said. “For… for saving me. And for trusting me. And for… being my best friend.”

He nodded and we kept walking.

When we finally got to my apartment building, he stopped at the door. “This is where I take my leave,” he said. “We’ll talk later, I promise.”

“Go save the city, Nightwing,” I said. “And thanks again.”

He grinned. “Always.” He moved to leave.

“Oh, and Nightwing!” I called. He glanced back at me. “Be careful.”

That earned me a playful, charming Dick Grayson smirk and a wink. “Never.”

#Maskless #Dick Grayson #Dick Grayson Imagine #Dick Grayson FanFiction #Nightwing #Nightwing Imagine #Nightwing FanFiction #DC #DC Imagine #DC FanFiction #BatFam #BatFam Imagine #BatFam FanFiction

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solarpunksoftie · 7 years

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My Sides. AKA the Gene-Pool

ok so i wasn’t tagged for this cuz i dont really know many people in this fandom? but i want to feel included and i have IDEAS so yeh. im doing this. its happening. um i guess i can tag a couple people, and heres a link to the original post. @prinxietyhell @doctorshufflepuff

My Adventurous Side - Adrienne

-They/Her

-impulsive, sexual, outgoing, sensual

-Down for Anything

-Total flake, flits after the most interesting thing at the time.

-Has my sense of humor

-Needs To Do Things. Not really hyper but just really active

-Very literal and concrete thinker; abstract and theoretical conversations confuse her

-Party kid. like they thrive off high energy social interaction. the more people, music, dancing, drinking, etc the better

-doesn’t understand the concept of money ffs they run my bank account into the ground why are they like this

-”Just Do It”

-They dress like they’re going clubbing. tight crop-top, shorts, comfortable boots, maybe a cute button down tied around their waist. Fluffy strawberry smoothie hair

My Ethical Side - Ethan

-They/Them

-Moral compass, passion, ambition, compassion

-The Punk

-Authority means nothing to them if its detrimental or even nonproductive

-Will Fight Anyone if they decide they deserve it

-Slight God complex, believes they can do no wrong

-The Angeriest

-Fuels my sass tbh

-Is very focused on getting help and equality to those in need

-They’re the reason I attend protests

-”Fuck You” / “How Can I Help”

-They wear politically loud clothing. My Anti-Fascist coat and feminism tanktop, as well as some dark wash jeans and black converse. Spiked magenta hair

My Logical&Creative Side - Laura

-They/Them

-Organization, Aesthetic, Obsession, Efficiency

-Pun master

-Efficiency is their endgame with any plan they come up with.

-Not big into maths or things like physics outside of real-world application

-Responsible for my special interests and obsessions

-Also responsible for anything I create from those interests

-Also credited with my system of reminder alarms so I can function like a normal adult.

-Can catch anyone in a lie, cuz they look for logical inconsistencies

-Pretty good with people. Or at least reading them, which makes responding much easier.

-Does things you would see on Pintrest because they go for optimizing utility and aesthetic

-”You’re Doing It Wrong”

-Wears a blue button down with the sleeves rolled above the elbows, white tie, black slacks, high heels, glasses. Blonde hair, neatly coiffed.

My Paranoid Side - Pandora

-They/Them

-Fear, Preparedness, Vigilance, Superstition

-Ready for Anything

-Seriously they are the reason I’m fairly sure I would survive a while during the zombie apocalypse

-Also the reason I’ve never been seriously injured or seriously ill.

-Honestly they’re such a mom. A very bitter, resentful mom, but still mom.

-Salty™

-Carries a tiny but well stocked first aid/survival kit

-Also has at least 3 knives on their person, in case of attack or if ya just need to cut something ya know

-Comes up with absurd situations to worry over (eg. “if theres an earthquake right now what are you gonna do?” “Don’t sit with your back to the room you could get stabbed”)

-Demons are totally real and they could be literally anywhere we would have no idea

-Cryptids

-”What was that”

-Dresses ready for the apocalypse to start at the drop of a hat. Thick but light leather jacket (the kind you can’t get a knife through unless you’re Really trying), black leotard (cuz that won’t get caught/tangled in anything and is made to optimize movement), quick-dry cargo pants (I live in the biggest watershed in the US there’s no way I’m gonna be able to avoid wading through a marsh several times during the zombie apocalypse. also pockets, hell yeah), steel-toe boots. Dark brown hair cut real short out of the face (less noticeable, won’t get in the way or caught on things)

My Depression - Daryl

-They/He

-They’re my god damn serotonin imbalance personified my dudes

-Always tired

-The Most Persuasive

-Even though they’re exhausted they never shut up?? Please go take a nap

-Very clingy, but hates that they’re clingy so they just fuckin insult people in attempts to push them away

-So insecure please protect them

-Can twist any of the other side’s words into something negative

-Can be very philosophical, and not always for the worst reasons. They just like contemplating existence.

“Why bother?”

-Wears a heavy fluffy black hoodie, a soft threadbare black tshirt, black sweatpants, thick fuzzy socks. Hair is frizzy and faded version of whatever my current color is, roots grown out to at least half an inch because updating hair is too much work.

Relationships/Interactions

-A&E: the kind of besties that become a feedback loop of increasingly bad/dangerous ideas if no one else steps in.

-A&L: power team, they get so much done when they work together. unstoppable force of memes.

-A&P: they kinda work against eachother, but they keep eachother from going off the deep end. P stops A from accidentally dying and A gets P out of their comfort zone.

-A&D: cannot stand eachother. If A is around D too long they get irritable and whiny. A exhausts D.

-E&L: L keeps E grounded and E gets L excited about new stuff a lot.

-E&P: P is the reason E hasn’t gotten caught up in a riot yet. E has no problem ignoring P if its for the greater good, however.

E&D: E does their best to ignore D for the most part. D pisses E off to the point of violence and shouting when D gets bad. When D gets REALLY bad E will do whatever necessary to subdue them.

L&P: they fight constantly. L does give P tips on what to be ready for, but if P gets over the top L will fucking fight them. P is the only one who can draw this much of a reaction out of L.

L&D: L is actually pretty supportive of D. L appreciates D’s rhetoric skills and can even be a little protective at times. D is the most attached to L and will actively seek their approval.

P&D: they have a weird relationship. It’s both tense and chill. They will sit and keep each other chill, balancing their two extremes, but once that balance is broken it is hard to get back and they will quickly get overwhelmed by the other.

#my sides #not ss tag #doctorshufflepuff #ocs #fanders sides #the gene pool #i fuckin love that #its such a good pun

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nettvnow-blog · 7 years

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Brains: Great Concept, Not Enough Character

Feeling like it’d been too long since I’d done a review, I let the internet pick one for me. The internet picked Brains.

Here’s the thing about Brains: it definitely could be good. Really good, even. Here’s the other thing about Brains: it isn’t very good.

Created by Bri Castellini, Brains has a great concept—what’s life like after the really bad parts of a zombie apocalypse are over? But fails to capitalize on it. The story follows Allison (played by Castellini) as she produces a documentary assignment turned coping mechanism on her handheld camera, going on patrols, researching zombies, and lusting after no-nonsense team leader Damian.

Conceptually, that’s all fine, but the thing about a concept like this is that it needs to be almost entirely character driven to work, and most of the characters in Brains are, pardon the pun, lifeless zombies. Almost none of them seem to have much of a personality outside of their role in the story, and given that the story itself (“we’re trying to be as normal as possible in fucked up times”) isn’t exactly pulsing with enough urgency or intrigue to either distract from its cardboard inhabitants’ shortcomings or inject them with some pathos and purpose, this is a really big problem.

To be fair, Allison is actually pretty great. Castellini has a natural charisma, and Allison benefits from by far the most screen time in the series. She’s one of the only character who feels remotely like a real person*, and she benefits from the most natural writing in the series as well. That said, she’s not a very consistent character, and something that may be life-or-death important to her in one episode will be almost entirely a non-factor in the next. Her relationship with Damian particularly serves the needs of a given episode’s plot rather than either character, and the plot is too thin to warrant the sacrifice. *There are two or three more, I’ll get to them in a minute. Beyond Castellini, things get dicey. This is clearly a cast made up of friends who want to make something together, not seasoned actors, and the wooden delivery that plagues important characters like Damian or the series’ villain only serves to emphasize the stilted dialogue and under-written personalities. But really, you can only pin so much on the actors. Would an A-list cast have been able to elevate the material? Probably. But you don’t get an A-list cast in the web series world. Moreover, it’s the responsibility of indie filmmakers to play to their cast’s strengths, not shine a light on their weaknesses.

Characters in Brains are too often defined by their roles (guy who Allison likes, girl who is mean to Allison, scientist), and not by who they are as people. I can’t tell you what almost any of these characters care about, want, or even really believe beyond “zombies bad, getting laid good.” What is Damian passionate about? What does he value in a conversation? These aren’t questions Brains has much interest in answering. Everyone is just here to move the plot along, or for Allison to bounce off of… with a few exceptions.

Greta, the girl who hates Allison, doesn’t get as much screen time as Damian or Carl (Allison’s bestie, more on him in a minute), but her actress has some chops, and the writing actually bothers to give her a conflict with Allison that feels rooted in their respective personalities rather than just being a box to check on the plot-point shopping list. The two characters have a history the writer has actually thought through, and as such the tension between them plays as legitimate. It’s a shame she’s used so little (and given almost nothing to do with much impact, though perhaps that’s to her benefit given the way the plot dominates Damian) because she’s the show’s second strongest performer and one of its most well-written characters. Ben, a season two addition, has natural presence and is immune to one of the series’ major writing foibles (long, uncomfortable silences that do no favors to the characters stuck in them). Like Greta, he’s largely underused, existing mostly to foment discord between Allison and Damian, but he’s effective when he’s on-camera and his character acts with a purpose and intent that feels real. Mind you, this isn’t a *great* performance or worth seeking out on its own merits, but in a sea of under performance, adequacy seems praiseworthy.

There’s also Carl, who was the bright spot in season one, with an off-kilter doofus charm and a natural rapport with Allison that made him easy to invest in. He was recast for season two, though, and the new actor, and the writing, have gone a completely different route with the character. It’s hard to judge the new iteration on its own merits given we’d already spent a season with OG Carl, but the new edition feels like a completely different (and less compelling) person, characterized mostly by clinginess and those aforementioned silences. Speaking of those silences...Wow. This show really loves them, and it’s an increasingly damaging crutch. For one thing, in a format like this, you have an extremely limited amount of time to communicate a ton of information, and every one of those awkward pauses chips away at that precious supply. That’s not so say silence can’t be used to sell a moment or to deepen a mood, but here it does neither, merely serving to suck time away from the audience, and make all of the characters involved seem passive and dull (and believe me, they were doing just fine seeming passive and dull without the help). It felt like almost every major conversation had two or three long pauses of the characters staring at their feet, and while I’m sure the writer had a reason at the time, as a viewer all it did was bore me. Silence works dramatically when it serves a purpose, or underscores an earned character moment. It doesn’t work when the writer doesn’t want to figure out a more interesting way for their characters to respond to bad news.

And while we’re talking about boring, let’s talk about the show’s villain. Equal part uninspired stock character writing and under-cooked dead-eyed performance, she’s really, really boring. She delivers all her lines in a stilted monotone, she never feels like a real person, and while she has clearly explained motives, the dialogue never allows us to believe any of them. She exists solely for the show to have a bad guy, which is actually a good thing in theory (this show badly needs a conflict with some sense of urgency to it), but she utterly fails to deliver. I’m rooting for the good guys to take her out not because I want them to win, but because I want her off my screen.

The rest of the cast are mostly other stock characters (nerdy guy, fidgety guy, shy girl), except for Allison’s primary love-interest, Damian. Damian, probably the character with the second most screen time, feels like he’s wandered in from a Wes Anderson movie. Specifically, he feels like one of those Wes Anderson kids who’s built their entire identity around *arbitrary thing here*, which plays a lot better on a child in a twee mumblecore comedy than on an adult in a post-apocalyptic melodrama. His performance is fine at that level, but totally at odds with everyone around him, and it would be difficult for he and Allison to have less chemistry with one another if they were both wearing beekeeper suits. Damian improves a little bit in season two, where he’s allowed to play a few more notes (although whether those notes are remotely organic to the character is another issue), but he never feels like he’s on the same show as everyone else, and his relationship with Allison never feels anything approximating natural.

And maybe that’s Brains’ biggest problem: none of it feels natural. Everyone is talking to exposit, rather than to express themselves, and the plot intervenes whenever anyone’s at risk of having an actual character moment. Ultimately, most of the cast turns out to be much more plot points than people, and you’re left with mostly just Allison to invest in. It just isn’t enough. Brains purports to be a slice-of-life show, but slice-of-life only works if we care about the lives we’re slicing, and Brains never does the work to get us there. But maybe Brains isn’t what it thinks it is? It claims to be about life after zombies, but spends most of its screen time on zombie-centric nonsense or clumsy melodrama.

If Brains is a slice-of-life comedy, it should spend more time building characters we care about, and worry less often about the looming threat of zombies as anything more than a fun comic device and world builder.

If Brains is a relationship melodrama, it should double down on its core players, give them some heart, and stop pretending to care about anything else. If Brains is a zombie show, then it needs a real sense of threat and either a tonal shit to more traditional zombie tropes, or a villain with enough heft to demand audience investment. If Brains wants to be all three of those things, well, that’s certainly ambitious. But as it exists right now, the show doesn’t have the writing chops, the characters, or the performers to walk that tightrope. Don’t get me wrong, there’s still a ton of potential here. The concept is strong, Castellini is the real deal, and every once in a while there’s a truly solid laugh. But by trying to have its cake and eat it too, it’s just ending up with frosting on its nose and a urinal cake in its mouth.

If you're interested in checking out Brains you can check out both seasons today.

Written by Nick Feldman

#Nick Feldman #Brains #Bri Castellini

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