#Also ‘mY sUpEr hArD FiNgErnAiL��� made me audible laugh

[betterthanbatman1]

Reminder that Little!jason loved Superman

[dancingkirby]

ATLA OC Week Day 5: Secrets

@atlaocweek

Summary: Four girls swap their juiciest secrets at a slumber party, but Naoko is disappointed when hers doesn’t get the reaction she wanted.

WARNING: Underage sexuality without actual sex, mentions of bullying, and some homophobia.  In short, these are not nice girls.

“Shun took me to the theater for my birthday yesterday,” Hana confided, so excited to share this information that there was almost no space between words.  “And while the room was dark and everyone was watching the play, we kissed!  With tongue! And you know what?  I even let him touch my boobs!”  She finally paused to take a breath, then added, “I still had my top on, of course.  I’m not stupid.”

Naoko and her other two friends Etsu and Kazashi made the appropriate oooh-ing sounds.  The four of them were having a sleepover, which was a regular occurrence for them.  Since the rules against idle chitchat at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls were so strict, this was the optimal time for them to catch up on gossip and inform each other of important events in their lives while eating snacks. They took turns hosting, and this time they were at Naoko’s house.  She liked it best this way because she had the largest and nicest bedroom.  

“I take it things are getting serious, then?” Naoko inquired of Hana.

The other girl nodded. “We’re both planning on talking to our parents and seeing if they’ll let us being betrothed.”

Betrothals were not uncommon at the academy; many of the girls in the upper classes had had contracts drawn up already, and even a few of the younger ones.  Naoko didn’t see either set of parents objecting; in fact, she wouldn’t be surprised if they’d already thought of that themselves. On paper, it was a good match…Shun’s family were wealthy merchants, and Hana’s family was noble but short on funds after a series of bad investments by her father.  Both families would benefit from the arrangement.  However, Naoko did wonder what they’d do if the betrothal was arranged and the affianced pair’s infatuation faded.  Hana always had been the most sentimental of the four of them.

“Well, there’s nothing going on in the boyfriend department for me right now,” Etsu said. “But I still have something I think you’ll be interested in hearing.  So Sifu Mingxia asked me to get her a new ink brush from her desk, right? I opened it, and she had a nude drawing in there!”  

“EEEWWWW!” everyone chorused.  As she took a handful of fire flakes, Naoko thought that this was useful information indeed; Sifu Mingxia was a total bitch, and now one of them could potentially use this to blackmail her.  

“And what was more…” Etsu said slowly, relishing in the suspense, “It was a nude drawing of a woman!”

Even better.  It also explained why Mingxia had never been married even though she was like fifty.  

“What, was she trying to hit on you or something?” Hana asked.

“Nah, I don’t think so.  I think she either forgot it was there, or put it there accidentally. I just got the brush without saying anything.”

“Good.  Save it for the next time she gets on your case for being late for class,” Naoko advised.  Honestly, what did that woman expect?  Her class was the first one of the day, at 7:30 AM, and almost no one arrived on time for the first class.

“Well, what about you?” Etsu asked, turning her head toward Kazashi.  “Are you gonna tell us why Okayu tried to challenge you to an Agni Kai last week?”

Naoko gaped. “She did what now?  When did that happen?!” Okayu was the most boring, mediocre, and plain-looking girl in their grade.  The thought of her challenging anyone to anything was downright comical.

“Oh yeah, I think that’s when you were at that dance ceremony,” Etsu said.  “You would’ve loved it.  She was blubbering so hard that she couldn’t even get the words out properly, thus forfeiting her challenge.  So what was that all about, Kazashi?”

Kazashi gave a most wicked grin.  “Well…I happen to know her boyfriend, although he’s probably her ex-boyfriend by now. His name’s Aran, and he’s mega-hot. So I spread a little rumor that Okayu blew Sifu Hongqi in the bathroom so he’d give her a passing grade on the kata test.  And everyone knows how stupid she is, so they all believed it!”

She threw back her head and laughed, and the other three girls joined in.  (Perhaps with a bit of hesitation from Hana?  That would bear watching.)  Naoko had always liked Kazashi the best of the three girls; she was very nearly as ambitious and ruthless as Naoko herself.  

“So are you and Aran an item yet?” Etsu asked once they’d calmed down.

“Not yet.  But I’m working on it,” Kazashi replied. “Now, Naoko, you’ve been pretty quiet tonight.  You haven’t told us about that dance ceremony yet!  It was at the palace.  Surely something interesting happened!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Hana said, opening a bottle of nail polish and starting to paint her fingernails with it.  “I went to the palace for a dinner a couple of years ago, and it was really boring. No cute guys or anything.”

Naoko grinned. “Then you must not have been looking hard enough.  Because I definitely met a cute guy while I was there; a very rich and very powerful guy as well.”  She was intentionally a bit evasive with the details since she didn’t want the other girls to figure out who it was and try to nab him for themselves.

“Sounds intriguing!” Etsu said.  “Was he interested in you too?”

“I think so,” Naoko responded.  “He said I had beautiful hair.  And Father said I could marry him as soon as we get his wife out of the picture!  Got any ideas, Kazashi?”

But to her surprise, all of the other girls’ smiles faded, and they looked away from her, making noises of hesitancy.

“Uh…I’m not sure that’s a great idea,” Kazashi said at last.  “Splitting up a boyfriend and girlfriend is one thing, but…this guy is married?  Getting involved with a married man would be messy.  How old is he, anyway?”

“He’s not old old,” Naoko said, feeling her face twist into a scowl.  “Only thirty-four.”  What was the big deal, anyway?  Why were they all gasping like that?  It was true that the age gap between them was almost twenty-one years, but there were plenty of noble married couples who were farther apart in age then that…including Kazashi’s own parents.  And it wasn’t like she was getting married right now.

“Yeah, that’s, like, super-creepy.  I wouldn’t do it,” Etsu said.

Feeling a mounting sense of desperation, Naoko turned to Hana and demanded, “What do you think?”  Surely she, newly in the throes of love herself, would understand.  However, Naoko was to be sorely disappointed.  

“Well, if you’re really that into older men, maybe it’d be best to check out someone a little closer to your own age first.  Maybe like sixteen-ish?” Hana suggested.  She had finished painting all of her nails, and was waving them around to dry.  Then something appeared to click in her head. “Wait. I think I know who this guy is. Is it Pr…”

Quick as a flash, Naoko was on her feet, had a hand clamped over Hana’s mouth, and was dragging her outside.  She slammed the door behind them.

“Don’t you dare say his name!” she hissed in a voice that was barely audible; she was well aware that the other two girls would have their ears pressed to the door in an attempt to eavesdrop.  “He’s mine, you hear me?!”

Hana nodded, holding up her hands partly in surrender and partly because she didn’t want her newly-applied nail polish messed up.  When Naoko was satisfied that the girl wouldn’t scream, she removed her hand.

“What’s wrong with you?  I…I wasn’t even interested in him anyway!  I have Shun!” she protested.

“Good,” Naoko whispered.  “Let’s keep it that way, shall we?”  Then she opened the door and walked back in to her bedroom like nothing had happened.

The other girls eventually struck up another conversation, but Naoko wasn’t paying attention to it.  She just sat in the corner sulking.  They’d see! While they courted their pathetic adolescent boyfriends, with their acne and barely-visible mustaches, she would be in the arms of a real man.  They’d be sorry when she married the delectable Prince Ozai and became Princess Consort.  Or perhaps…even more?  Father had been dropping hints lately that Ozai might not be content with simply being the spare prince for much longer.  

And if/when Naoko became Fire Lady, she was not going to invite these girls to her sleepovers anymore.  That was for certain.

[vicunaburger]

Admittedly, I’m Hard to See

Fandom: Beetlejuice the Musical Chapters: 9/? Pairing: Beetlejuice x OC (Holidae) The Players: Beetlejuice, Lydia Deetz, Holidae Bell Word Count: 1,604 Warnings: M for Language and Suggestive Content

Notes: ...you all knew going into this it was slow burn, yeah? ....right??

Chapter 9 - In Which Closeness is a Matter of Perspective

“Lyddy, when I said I would help you with the art show, I meant things like… carrying equipment. Or getting props. Maybe picking up extra film.” Holidae subtly tried to adjust the position of her foot, pins and needles already crawling along her skin. “Being a model is not on that list.”

Lydia walked over, kicking Holidae’s foot back into place, “You are helping. Hold still, you keep twitching and get all blurry.”

Infinitely thankful that they were quite alone in the cemetery that afternoon, Holidae muttered under breath, trying her best to hold the poses as Lydia commanded them. She was wrapped in several layers of sheer black organza, designed to mimic a sort of mourning gown with a bit of wedding charm thrown in for flavor. The result was surprisingly effective, but did nothing to stave off the cold autumn weather, and Holidae could already feel her extremities freezing over. She did promise Lydia she would help her a photo shoot, and she learned a valuable lesson about not trusting the small photographer as far as she could throw her.

“I think my fingers are frozen. They’re blue,” Holidae leaned against the nearby headstone for support.

“So are your lips, now hush.” Lydia maneuvered herself around the other girl, the camera shutter firing rapidly. “Lean back like you’re just overwhelmed with grief.”

“I’m overwhelmed with something,” Holidae tried to do as she was told, dipping her body backwards as far as she could. “This good?”

“More.” Another series of clicks.

Holidae wobbled, catching herself on the headstone, “I don’t bend that much.”

“Try,” Lydia came over and tried to balance her friend, who promptly caught her funny bone on the granite grave marker.

“Fuck you, you try!” Holidae hissed in pain, rubbing her elbow furiously. “Or you best pay a chiropractor.”

Lydia went back to her equipment, fiddling around with some different lenses, and giving Holidae a much needed break before they tried again. This wasn’t the first time she had roped her friend into posing for her photos, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last despite protests from the model. No matter what Lydia would try and get her to do, or how she would dress her up, Holidae would just go along with it. It was like having a doll to dress-up and torture in creative ways.

The only request Holidae ever made was that her face never be in full view, and Lydia always respected her wish. Whether it be a large hat brim, or in today’s case a veil, Holidae was kept away from curious eyes. The truth of the matter was Holidae was embarrassed of her looks, and always had been. Self-esteem was a rough, bumpy road to traverse; and there were good and bad days.

It was a touchy subject, and Lydia never pushed it.

Lydia tapped her fingernails on her camera bag, trying to think of a solution to the posing problem. After a few minutes, she let out an ah-ha, getting up and brushing some leaves off of her skirt. In one quick breath, she spoke her ghostly best friend’s name three times in a row, summoning him outside of the house for a change.

Beetlejuice looked happier than he’d been in a while, smiling ear to ear, and picking up the small girl with a twirl, “Lyds! We’re in a graveyard! What’s the special occasion? Someone die? Someone needing to die? Picking out a good plot? Don’t get one by a tree or the roots will get all gnarly and stick into your casket.”

Laughing as he set her down, she shook her head, “No, I need a favor, but nothing that major.”

He stuck his hands in his overcoat pockets, looking like a noir film detective, “Anything for you, babes.”

“I need you to bend Holidae over,” Lydia said pointing over to the woman desperately trying to warm herself up.

BJ did a double take so hard there was an audible crack of his neck, “…do what now?”

“Balance issues. If you go over there and help, I can get the pose I want and you won’t show up in the picture. It’ll look super cool, trust me. Just go over and she’ll explain what I want.” Lydia waved him away, unconcerned with her phrasing.

There was a moment of hesitation on Beetlejuice���s part; not really sure if this whole thing was a setup in some way that would get him banished forever, or something worse. Well, if Lydia wanted him to be a helpful little demon, who was he to argue with such an opportunity.

Humming to himself, he flourished his stroll over to Holidae with a spin, “Oh, what have we here? Getting all dressed up just for me, Holly-hock? I just adore the shade of blue on your skin.”

Holidae tried to straighten herself up, covering the more see-through parts of the draping with her arms, “W-what are you doing o-out h-here? Fuck it’s cold.”

Beej pulled her tight against him, “Body heat is the best solution of hypothermia, right?”

“Not when you’re an ice cube!” She shivered, torn between accepting his offer and freezing to death right then and there.

“Hey! Less flirting, more posing!” Lydia barked at the two of them. “Save that stuff for indoors, it’s gross. He’s there to hold you up so you don’t bash your head open on the rock.”

“Lydia, you say one more word and I’m throwing your camera off the bridge.” Holidae pried herself out of his arms, readjusting him so that he would support her back. “If you drop me, you’re dead.”

Beej snickered, giving her flesh a hard pinch, “Already dead, baby.”

“Smartass.” Holidae grit her teeth, but bent back with her arms splayed our behind her, “And I am fully aware that you’re getting a good view of my cleavage, so don’t even start with me.”

“I am getting Lyds the best birthday gift this year,” Beetlejuice made a very obvious show of studying Holidae’s chest.

Over the next hour, Lydia would move her two companions in different ways, getting the most out of the fact BJ wouldn’t show up in the film. It saved a lot of money on expensive photo editing programs; but it was also just a fun way to spend the afternoon together in a new environment. When things would get too serious, Beetlejuice would make some face at Holidae to get her laughing, ruining the next few shots Lydia took until they could compose themselves. Or, at least Lydia was claiming they were ruined.

She wasn’t about to tell them the truth: those candid shots were not being deleted off her camera.

During one of their breaks, Holidae sat herself down on a blanket Lydia had spread out her camera equipment on to keep it from getting dirty, holding her knees to her chest in efforts to keep warm. Without warning, something was dropped onto her head, mussing her hair as she pulled it down. It was a dirty, ratty grey coat. Stained and stitched together in odd places, carrying the heavy scent of tobacco and musty earth.

Strangely enough, it was warmer than she thought it would be, and she wrapped it around her body as best she could, “You might want to wash this once in a while. Maybe just spot clean.”

Beetlejuice flopped down next to her, digging a pack of smokes from the coat pocket, “If you don’t want it, I’ll take it back. Ungrateful.”

She shook her head, burying herself deeper into the oversized clothing, “No no, I want it. I was just offering a suggestion. Thank you for not letting me freeze, I mean it. Honest.”

He took a long drag, the smoke hanging in the air due to the weather, “Eh, dying is what it is. Done it twice, not that exciting.”

Holidae looked around at the tombstones surrounding them, “Do you think these people would have the same opinion? What if they died doing something exciting?”

“I really don’t feel like digging them up and asking,” He shrugged, holding the cigarette between his teeth. “So what’s Lydia gonna do with all these photos anyway? Seems weird.”

“She keeps telling me she has a theme, but doesn’t want to jinx it with discussion and negative thoughts. I swear, she takes after her stepmother more than she wants to admit.” She picked at the blades of grass by her feet, “I just put up the pictures when they’re done.”

“Well, since she can’t have me as a model, at least she has something decent to work with.” He flipped the edge of the coat up, peeking at her sheer dress. “You’re not as beautiful and sexy as I am, but then again, nobody is.”

Holidae scooted backwards, tucking the coat back tight around her, “Hey, you’ll let the heat out! And good on you for self-confidence, but calling yourself sexy all the time is weird.”

Beetlejuice grabbed her by the ankles, dragging her back toward him, “Are you saying I’m not sexy?”

She was getting tangled in the coat, looking like an unhappy caterpillar, “No, I said that calling yourself sexy is weird. I would really appreciate you listening when I talk to you, Juice. I don’t just say things to hear myself prattle on.”

With a truly maniacal laugh, Beetlejuice jumped up, picking up Holidae in a bridal-style carry, and spun her around with a flourish. “Youuuuu think I’m sexy. You think I’m seeeexy~”

He set her back on her feet, leaving her to balance herself after all the spinning, and ran over to find Lydia.

“Lyds! Lyds, listen listen listen~ you’re friend said I’m sexy. Now you have to take back all those times you said I was only referring to myself as a sexual being to hide the fact that I have a lack of positive self esteem from a childhood borne of neglect. HA! Wait. Why are you running from me? Lydia!”

Writing Tags: @mr-geuse @paxenera @leiasolo77 @go-commander-kim @ashemspirit