#I am AWARE that the books are different from the movie I knew that from the getgo and I looked the books up on wikipedia

[mozart-the-meerkitten]

The Dragonkeeper movie worked as intended I laughed I cried I bought the first two books in the series it's based off of.

and I am THIS CLOSE 🤏🏻to writing a crossover Wingfeather Saga fanfic with it because are you KIDDING me?!? magic child?! healing water?! dragons?! THE ENDING?!? ak;hlgj;aglskafghsfagshfd

go watch it it's amazing I loved it

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Whale Song - Orm Marius X Female Reader

Title: Whale Song

Orm Marius X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Clark (Mentioned), Bruce (Mentioned), Arthur, Damian (Mentioned), Orm's father (Mentioned), and the Justice League (Mentioned)

Requested by: Anon!

WC: 5,189

Warnings: Somewhat enemies to lovers, mild cursing, movie canon violence briefly mentioned, post-Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom, during post-credits, italics used, book reference, banter, flirting, teasing, mentioned prejudice, slight angst, and fluff

You were upset. No, more than upset, pissed off. Annoyed. Furious. Normally you would get calls from Clark or Bruce, but never Arthur Curry - Aquaman. As his hologram figure shot out of your watch, you immediately frowned. Only having recently joined the Justice League, Arthur was known for causing a bit of trouble. You were both very different from each other. You were one for talking to people, and he liked using his fists.

But when Arthur called you, it normally meant that he wanted something, needed you to do something for him while he was stuck down in the ocean doing his Kingly duties. All high and mighty. Well, you were fed up. The last time he asked you for something, you were pulled into a small battle, and you owed him twenty bucks - you weren't one to bet, but against Arthur, it was hard to not take part. You loved to see his face when he lost. And he lost most of the time.

But you knew that you were a pretty sensible person to go to when anyone needed anything. You were bright and always mindful. You were brilliant, having gone to Harvard before moving to the big city - Metropolis.

It wasn't long after you found yourself in the company of the world's strongest heroes. With your intellect and specific set of skills, both Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne thought you could be an invaluable member of the Justice League. Though, instead of fighting on the front lines, you would offer advice and wisdom when needed - along with helping the team with the tech that you created. 

So, it didn't come as a surprise when Arthur called you on your 'Super Watch' as you called it, when you made it for you and the team. He came to you when he needed advice, which was a lot. If it had been anyone else, you would've been more than willing to help. But it was Arthur. However, you were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"I need to cash in that favor." He said. There was no greeting - no pleasantries. Just straight to business. Like he usually did when he needed something. 

You rolled your eyes. If only you hadn't asked him to take you to see a Humpback Whale - him with his Kingly Atlantis powers. It had always been a dream of yours, and why wouldn't you take a chance to experience something new and amazing like that? During the time, in awe of the giant Humpback before you, asking for that favor was totally worth it. 

However, at the moment, you didn't want to know what he wanted. There were so many things that he could possibly want. But, it was the weekend. Saturday. Not the day for you to play babysitter for some superpowered superhero. You already had to watch over Damian Wayne. You loved the kid, but you didn’t really think babysitting was your thing. "What do you want?" You asked, not bothering to mask the impatience in your voice. "I have a book I need to get to..."

"I need you to watch over somebody for me." He answered, seemingly aware of your impatience as he continued with a small grin on his face, "I believe that you heard that my brother has joined the surface world. He'll be needing some help adjusting and I think you-"

"Oh, no, no, no," You interrupted, shaking your head as you glared daggers at the hologram before you, "I am not babysitting your murderous brother." You ran a hand through your hair, "Do you know how much damage control I had to do when he tried to kill us surface-dwellers? It took me weeks to fix all that he did - with little help by the way!" You pointed an accusatory finger at him, "I already have a tough time babysitting the supers, I am not babysitting him too."

He sighed heavily. "Look, I know that this is a bit of a big favor-"

You scoffed, "A bit?"

"And I understand that being around new people is not exactly fun for you-"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes again, "Not just that, Art, I am not like you and the other supers. If your brother tries anything, I won't be able to stop him."

"He won't try anything," Arthur grinned, "He's changed, dude. He's not the same as he was over a year ago." 

You nodded, taking another glance at the sky outside your window. "That's good if what you say is true." You agreed hesitantly. "If I am going to do this, and if," You emphasized, letting out a deep breath, "How am I going to find him in the first place? I don't know what he looks like or even where he is. On top of that, I don't even know what his name is."

Arthur gave a small nod. "His name is Orm. I believe he is residing in Metropolis at the moment. For the past couple of weeks, he's been going from city to city, with what little Atlantean money he has left on him. I'll send you a description of his appearance. That'll help, but I think you'll know it's him when you see him."

"Really?" You asked, resting your hand on your hip, "I'll know?" But, Arthur said nothing, only giving you that 'know-it-all' look before hanging up the hologram call. 

Huffing, you dropped your hands, only to raise them to your face and rub your cheeks; overall pretty annoyed. Freezing, you cursed at yourself, forgetting to ask how long you'll be watching over this Orm. 

~~~

Sitting on a small bench, you adjusted your open book, glancing down at the pages. But, instead of reading about a boy and his little sister who fell down a laundry chute and into a strange underground world, you let your eyes wander across the sheet of printer paper that you placed in between the pages. Hiding the fact that you were looking for someone by pretending to read. Your eyes scanned around the page slowly, trying to memorize what Arthur gave you. How could you possibly find this man? Especially with what Arthur had given you to help you find him? Metropolis was huge!

Looking up, your eyes quickly settled on someone in front of you at an outside restaurant, there was a man; tall - seemingly - and blonde; eating a burger. Immediately as your eyes landed on him, you knew. Arthur was right. This was definitely him. 

You suddenly stood, shutting your hardcover book with a snap before walking across the street. Your eyes again locked onto his frame, watching as he continued to chow down on the large burger in his hands. It confused and unnerved you, but the closer you were getting to the man, the more your heart began to race. And it may or may not have been because you thought this Orm was rather attractive. Arthur's family had some good ass genes. 

Before you could even figure out what you were supposed to say, you took a seat across from him; the metal of the chair's legs scraping against the concrete ground sharply. The younger Atlantean prince paused his chewing, his crystal blue eyes staring at you with confusion and obvious caution. You understood that if anyone sat before you while you were trying to enjoy your lunch, you probably would've reacted the same way.

"Hello," You began, immediately inwardly cringing at how awkward your own voice sounded, "Um, I'm Y/N." You watched as he continued chewing, though slowly, his eyes continuing to look over you; still wary. "I'm friends with your brother. He asked me to help you, uh, get used to the surface."

At that, Orm huffed, setting down his burger; annoyed. "I do not need any help." He spoke, his voice firm, but smooth; a shiver ran down your spine. “How did you find me?” Without another word, you pulled the paper from Arthur out of the book, showing it to him. Orm’s eyes widened before narrowing, “Is that supposed to portray me?” He asked, gesturing to the crude drawing of himself - drawn by none other than Arthur himself - you could tell that Orm was not fond of the portrayal at all.

You gave him a deadpanned look, mentally finding this whole interaction very funny - funnily enough. But, you still had work to do. "Listen, I don't really want to do this either. I'd rather be at home reading. But, I owe him a favor and I'm a woman of my word. I understand that you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, but you are technically a fish out of water in this situation. There are going to be things here on the surface that you won't be able to navigate." You let out a breath, rubbing your temple with two fingers, "So please, let me at least help you with a few things that are mandatory for those that live on land."

After a few moments of silence, Orm squared his jaw as he rubbed his hands clean of the burger's grease with a napkin. The silence between the both of you was unnerving and tense, but you fought through it, not wanting to back down. Even though you were rather annoyed by this whole fiasco, you were a good person, and you weren't about to let a guy with an attitude ruin things for himself just because of his pride or whatever.

"Fine." He grumbled finally, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "What must I do then?

"Well," You began, gesturing to the side of his burger where you saw a pair of bug legs sticking out, "We have a lot to cover."

~~~

For the next couple of weeks, you began teaching Orm about the surface world, though he was rather hesitant to follow your instructions. In the beginning, he complained and made small comments here or there, but Orm seemed to have noticed your no-nonsense nature. He didn't complain anymore after another firm talking-to, and you found out afterwards that he was a rather fast learner. He had no consistent place to live, moving from hotel to hotel, you knew he could only do that for so long; plus you knew from experience that some hotels were less than ideal to stay in, especially ones that were located near the center of the city. 

Therefore, you decided that Orm staying in one of your homes, near the shore in California, was a more ideal option for him. And if you were being honest with yourself, you were beginning to enjoy the youngest Atlantean prince's company; far more than Arthur's, that was for sure.

During the time that Orm has been staying in your humble abode, you made sure to keep him up with the latest tech, which was far different than in Atlantis, you were sure. From the toaster, blender, microwave, and even computer, you made sure that Orm had at least some, if not all, basic knowledge on the appliances around the house. As said before, Orm was an incredibly quick learner, having mastered most of everything within a matter of days.

However, what you did not expect was for you to begin to like him.

~~~

It had been a long night. You were sending email after email to some of your closest contacts and employees, making sure that they were keeping your empire afloat all the while you were on your "vacation" away from Metropolis. Some of your employees tried to get you to enjoy your so-called vacation, but it was hard to just not check up on how things were doing. 

It was well past midnight, reading and re-reading past emails, and checking your phone every now and then, waiting for the familiar notification sound to go off signaling a new text message to come through. You frowned as you set your phone down on the desk beside your computer, letting out a sigh. You leaned your elbows on the table, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands, tired and absolutely exhausted. 

Standing up, you shut your laptop and headed to the kitchen, quickly making yourself a small cup of tea; praying that it would hopefully help you go to sleep. You silently wandered around your seaside home, faintly hearing the ocean waves crash upon the shore. Taking a small sip of your tea, you hummed as it warmed your throat before pushing the back door open and stepping outside. 

The warm breeze made you smile, as did the smell of the salty ocean a couple hundred feet away from you. It was hard to see it, but you could see the moon reflecting off the waves. Resting your forearms against the wooden railing of the porch, you occasionally sipped your tea while enjoying the quiet.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" The smooth, yet low voice asked, startling you slightly.

Raising a hand to your chest, you let out a deep breath as you swiftly turned to see Orm standing a foot or so behind you; arms clasped behind him. His eyes never met yours, the deep blues staring right back at the raging waves. 

"Of course." You replied softly, as he did, turning to look back at the ocean in question, "It always is."

Orm wandered over, taking the spot next to you before speaking, "Do you enjoy the ocean?" He asked, his question surprising you slightly, but you didn't hesitate to answer.

"Yes." You replied, "Ever since I was a kid." Taking a sip of your tea, you swallowed before continuing, "I always lived in the city. I hardly got to see the ocean, we- my family rarely went to the beach. But that never stopped me from loving it." You shuffled one of your feet, the soul of your slipper slipping against the white wood. Looking up, you finally made eye contact with him, "What about you? I mean, you lived in the ocean most of your life, what's it like?" You asked, your curiosity clear in your tone.

He looked at you, his sharp eyes almost glowing from the moon's rays in the darkness of the night. "It is wonderful." He replied simply, looking back out towards the sea once more. "But, I cannot really describe it; it is not something one can explain simply." You gave a nod, as he shifted uncomfortably in his stance. "You had spoken that helping me acclimate to the surface was a favor owed to Arthur, correct?"

You nodded once more, "Yes, it was," You began, glancing over at him only to see that Orm was already looking at you, "Though, to be perfectly honest, his favor was much bigger than mine was." You chuckled lightly, scratching the back of your neck as you stared into his blue eyes.

He tilted his head curiously, "Is that so?" He questioned, 

"Well, yes-" You bit your lip, shifting in your position as you glanced back at the horizon, "I just asked to see a whale." 

At that, Orm raised an eyebrow, "A whale?"

You hummed in confirmation, "Yep, I just wanted to see a whale. I really like whales. And sharks. But I like whales the most. They sleep upright which is super cool. They are just so fascinating." You gushed, a bright smile slowly spreading onto your face before you cleared your throat, "I mean, you must’ve noticed. I have like ten paintings of whales in there." You finished, gesturing back at the house with a nod of your head, feeling a bit embarrassed by your small rant. Meeting Orm’s gaze once again, you swore that you saw a small smile on his face, but before you could fully confirm it with yourself, he hummed before looking back at the ocean.

"Was it all that you hoped?" He then asked.

"Yeah, definitely. When I was available, he took me to Maine and used his ocean magic to summon a Humpback Whale." The memory of seeing that whale made your chest swell with pride. You smiled as you watched the waves ripple gently across the sand. "When it breached the water, I felt as if I took my first breath. It was the nicest thing Arthur has done for me."

Orm felt a pang in his chest, a wave of jealousy washing over him, making him shift in his stance, his grip on his hand behind his back tightening. For the past month or so, Orm had grown accustomed to being around you, and he had found himself liking you quite a bit despite how much he disliked humans. It wasn't something he'd admit to anyone else aside from himself, but you managed to make him feel a little better, more relaxed, even. And, he actually enjoyed spending time with you. "Does Arthur do nice things for you usually?" Orm inquired, attempting to push down his jealousy.

You shook your head, "Nope, never." You laughed lightly, before placing both hands on the railing, leaning forward slightly, "He usually likes to tease me, you know, joke around. I find him annoying most of the time." You admitted, "But, I should thank him next time I see him in person." You yawned, grabbing your empty cup from the wooden railing with one hand as Orm turned to look at you properly.

"Thank him?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing together ever so slightly as you paused at the back door, your back facing him.

"Yeah." You responded softly, shrugging one shoulder, "If he didn't ask me to help you, I never would've met you." There was silence between the two of you for a few moments until you turned your head to look back over at him, meeting those same deep blue eyes that seemed to stare right into your very soul. You took the moment to let your eyes travel over his handsome features: the light stubble along his jawline, his blonde hair combed perfectly, the softness of his skin, and his lips. You could have stayed longer looking at him, staring at the man who unknowingly caused so much pain in your heart, but you could not allow yourself to continue. Instead, you quickly averted your eyes, clearing your throat awkwardly, "I'm going to head to bed. Goodnight, Orm." You said before ducking back inside.

"Goodnight, Y/N." Orm muttered, his voice low as he stared at the back door, where your figure had disappeared into, his blue eyes lingering on the door for a moment before he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. It wasn't long until he looked back at the crashing ocean, his eyebrows furrowed. 

When Orm found himself living with you at your beach house, he did his best to keep his distance, avoiding you as much as he could when you weren't trying to teach him the ways of the surface-dwellers. His stubbornness was also partly due to the fact that he was brought up in such a way to hate surface-dwellers; to despise them as a whole, and everything they stood for. But, even still, he couldn't bring himself to truly dislike you. Despite the nagging of his father's words echoing in his mind whenever he was close to you. He felt... something towards you. Something different; something new.

~~~

The next morning, you were up bright and early, heading downstairs to grab yourself a cup of coffee. Humming a soft, upbeat tune, you shimmied around the kitchen as you poured yourself some coffee; adding cream and sugar.

Glancing around the kitchen, and tilting your body to the side to peer into the dining room, your humming came to a stop. Usually, at the time that you came down for coffee, Orm had already figured out how to make his breakfast. Which usually consisted of eggs, bacon, and tea. 

Frowning, you furrowed your eyebrows, glancing at the clock on the wall before finishing up stirring your tea. Grabbing the warm mug into your dominant hand, you pulled the edges of your cardigan closer around you; the mornings were always so chilly, being so close to the ocean and all. 

Stepping out onto the back porch, you paused. There was Orm, leaning against the wooden beam of your railing - just as he did the night before. He was dressed for the day, in the Surface-Dweller attire you helped him buy. Sometimes, it was hard to believe that he wasn't from the surface world, he fit in so perfectly. His forearms were resting against the railing, slightly bent at the hip, his stormy blue eyes staring off into the crashing waves of the ocean only a couple of mere hundred feet in front of him. You leaned against the doorframe, worrying on your bottom lip. He must have missed his home - Atlantis - you knew that he did. You couldn’t imagine leaving your home, being forced to never return, in fear of imprisonment or even death. Even though you and Orm had a pretty rough beginning, your heart broke for him. 

Your mind raced with possible ideas of how to try and cheer him up, your eyes flickering down at the wooden porch floorboard, spotting bits of sand sprinkled around here and there from your many adventures from the shore. You allowed your gaze to flicker back to the Atlantean man, studying the contours of the side of his face closely, taking in every detail. His brows furrowed tightly together, his lips slightly pursed in deep thought. He was so... Beautiful. Especially as the morning sun filtered into his hair, shining upon the blonde strands, causing them to appear almost white. 

You blinked for a moment, shaking your head slightly as you focused back on trying to come up with an idea to cheer the man up. And then, it hit you. A surge of excitement rushed through you, making your skin buzz slightly at just the idea. Making yourself known, you walked over, taking your place beside him as he had done last night for you. 

"Hey," You spoke up softly, setting your mug down on the railing, your fingers curling around the ceramic; warming them. "Good morning."

Orm turned his head, his gaze landing on yours before he returned his attention to the ocean, "Good morning."

You sighed, turning your gaze to stare at the ocean yourself, shuffling one of your socked feet against the wooden floorboards. "Have you eaten?" You breathed out, raising your cup to take a sip.

"Yes," Orm muttered, glancing at you briefly, "And you?"

You shook your head slightly, taking another sip, "No," You spoke against the rim of your mug, "I have not yet." You suddenly felt nervous, as the words that you had wished to say slithered on the tip of your tongue. "I was wondering if you'd like to go on an adventure with me?" You asked, turning your head to look back up at him, his eyes meeting yours. 

"An adventure?" He repeated, raising a single eyebrow.

You nodded, unable to stop a smile from spreading on your face, "Yeah, well, I was thinking, you've been cooped up in this house for far too long." You placed your mug aside, turning your body to face him, your eyes bright. "So..." You trailed off, tilting your head to the side a bit - trying to read him, he seemed curious. "What'd ya say?"

"Where is it that you would like to take me?" He asked then, sounding curious and yet, hesitant. 

"It's a surprise." You answered quickly - your excitement obvious - before grabbing your mug and speeding back inside. Pausing at the door, you braced your hand against the doorframe, looking back over at him. "You'll love it. I swear."

~~~

"May I open my eyes now?" Orm asked as you helped him out of your car, his hand covering his eyes, as you had asked him to do. From stepping out of the car, Orm could feel the difference in the air; it was warmer out, and he could still smell the salt of the ocean. And yet, he had no idea where you were taking him. 

"No yet," Orm felt you take his other unoccupied arm, your two hands intertwining as you led him away from your parked car towards what he assumed was the entrance of something.

Orm hummed, the hand over his eyes twitching slightly from the urge to just look, "You are not leading me to my death, are you?" He asked, his tone laced with amusement.

"Hmm, no." You played along as you pulled open one of the double doors, leading him inside, "I wouldn't have you stay with me, for almost four months, just to take you to some secondary location to kill you." Your words made Orm chuckle as you began to drag him further into whatever mysterious place you had taken him to.

As Orm followed blindly beside you, he tried to tighten his hearing, seeing if he could pick up anything around him. For the most part, he didn't hear any signs that anyone else might be around. As far as he could tell, it was only the two of you. He couldn't help but wonder, why the sudden trip? With a gentle tug, he felt you come to a stop, one of your hands dropping from his arm. 

"Okay," You breathed out, "You can look now." Dropping his hand, Orm blinked his eyes rapidly, before they widened. So... This was where you were taking him. An aquarium. The water from the aquarium tunnel reflected on the walls in a kaleidoscope effect, tinting in stunning blues and greens. Fish, some sharks, and even a few stingrays of all species swam about everywhere. The underwater tunnel gave off a soothing atmosphere, as if the water itself was saying; 'Welcome.' His eyes followed the graceful movements of the sea creatures above, his ocean-blue eyes flickering from fish to fish, his lips parted slightly. You broke your gaze from the tunnel, turning to look up at Orm, your smile slowly dropping as you took notice of the expression on his face. It was hard to decipher it, your mind beginning to overwhelm you with 'what ifs' and terrible doubts. "Do you not like it?" You asked softly, your voice filled with uncertainty. Orm swallowed hard, but you continued, "I mean, of course, you might hate it." You began to ramble, running a hand through your hair, looking anywhere else but at him, "I mean, this is technically like a prison for fish. But, I assure you, I practically built this aquarium - all the fish have all the food they could possibly want, all the space-" Orm looked down at you, watching as you continued to stumble over your words, “I know you must have been feeling homesick, and I know you can't really go into the ocean, so I thought that you might like it here-”

“Y/N.” He finally spoke, interrupting your rant, “Thank you.” The words seemed to have easily slid off his tongue, his eyes softening as you stared up at him with those eyes of yours. 

“So, I haven't upset you?” You asked, pulling your bottom lip under your teeth once more. 

Orm shook his head, reaching up with his hand, his thumb gently brushed against your bottom lip, pulling it from between your teeth, freeing it; you felt your cheeks heat at the touch, your eyes fluttering momentarily as the warmth of his finger pressed against your bottom lip. “You have not upset me.” Orm tried to reassure you, giving you that smile of his that made your heart flutter. “In fact, this must be the best surprise I have ever received.” 

“Really?” Your eyes lit up, your smile growing, and at Orm's nod, you sighed, “Wow…” Turning back to look at the fish swimming in the large aquarium glass around you, you spoke once more. “Beautiful, isn't it?” You mimicked his own words from two days prior.

"Yes," Orm muttered, "Very beautiful…” 

Looking up at him, you were surprised to find Orm already looking down at you. You felt your breath hitch, again, unable to look away as his eyes bore down into yours with such intensity. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, a faint crease appearing on his forehead. The air around you grew thick, and it wasn't until Orm reached out, cupping your cheek with one hand, that you finally realized just how much closer your faces were than usual. And yet, you did nothing to pull back. Instead, you simply held your breath, your gaze locked onto his, as his thumb ran along your cheek, his fingers tangling themselves in your hair slightly, drawing you closer to him.

His brows furrowed deeper, his eyes darkening slightly as he gazed down at you. His lips parted slightly, a breath leaving him, before he leaned forward; his lips barely brushing against yours. Slowly, hesitantly, he closed the distance between the two of you. Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand slid down from your cheek to cradle your neck, keeping you close. Your arms wrapped around his middle, your fingers gripping tightly at the fabric of his sweater - you never wanted this moment to end.

The kiss lasted mere moments before you both pulled apart, unable to stop yourselves from smiling at each other. Orm felt an immense sense of happiness overtake him as his blue eyes met yours, his cheeks tinted a soft pink. "Arthur was right," He said - mentally hating the words that seemed to slip so easily from his lips - his hand moved to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, his thumb grazing across the shell of your ear.

You couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, raising one hand to press his palm into your cheek, "Arthur was right about what?" You narrowed your eyes playfully, "He's hardly right about anything."

Orm let out a deep sigh, silently agreeing with you, "The surface world is not as terrible as I always believed and was told." He smiled down at you, his hand falling from your cheek to take your hand in his, "You have proven that. As well as Arthur.” You tilted your head to the side lightly, letting out another laugh before shaking your head; Orm's smile quickly turned into a small, anxious frown, "Don't tell Arthur I said that."

"I won't." You promised, your eyes crinkling as you laughed out your words, "He wouldn't shut up about it if I did." Orm chuckled as he nodded his head as you interlaced your fingers with his, "So..." You trailed off, "Do you want to see the rest of the aquarium? I rented it out for the next two hours. So, we got the whole place to ourselves." You waved your free hand in the air, gesturing to the long empty tunnel that led the way to the rest of the aquarium.

"Lead the way." Orm smiled, squeezing your hand in his own gently as he allowed himself to be guided by you; he would follow you wherever you went.

---

Main Masterlist | DC Masterlist

[dailyrothko]

Hi! I was wondering if you had any opinions on the play Red by John Logan? Really admire the Rothko work you do!

First of all, thank you.

Secondly, I think I maybe in a weird position to critique this. I have read almost everything written about Rothko that I know exists. All the books, all the articles I could find and all the interviews I can put my hands on where people who knew him talk. I actually have you guys to thank for this because until this blog got popular, I didn't know much about his life other than the basics. But, feeling some responsibility to my "Audience" and chosen subject, I tired to educate myself in this niche.

Because of this, one naturally forms a picture of the person in your head based on these collected impressions. I think most people don't really know much about him, at least until recently.

I am thankful that the play was an entrée into the art for a lot of people. Like the Rothko episode of Mad Men, many people are brought to awareness of the Rothko through these other mediums and I think that's really cool.

The thing though is that John Logan wrote the movie Gladiator, and you can tell. I see nothing bad about that kind of drama, it just doesn't jibe with my impression of Rothko, While Rothko was sensitive, upset at times, neurotic and opinionated, careful and studious, but he was not this bellowing pontificator that I feel is represented in the play. Again there's nothing wrong with making a drama of it, it's just something that I divorce from Rothko's actual character. I used to have a job reading movie scripts for an actor and you find a lot of common devices people use to make the drama effective, and I feel Red uses a lot of those to good effect. Every play or movie I have ever seen about an artist takes the task of making a largely internal process, external enough for the audience to become engrossed in.

Rothko was sensitive, well-spoken intellectual man. Many of his friends speak of his great tenderness and generosity towards them. The play seeks to pit him and his assistant as two poles of the art world, the new encroaching on the old. Again, fine as a dramatic device but Rothko painted alone, and he talked about painting to no one, ever. Anyone who knew Rothko says he never discussed his art. So any conversations in the play are entirely fantasy.

So, basically I think the play is entertaining and hopefully gets people interested in the art, but I wouldn't take it like a biography of Rothko! And that's really my main point, not to knock the play but to point out the differences between fact and fiction.

Here's some context:

"When I've seen my father portrayed, I've sort of winced, because it doesn't sound like him or come across like him. He was a very warm, humorous person, I remember him telling me silly stories as a child. - Kate Rothko

"As I see him, he was a very loving, essentially feeling man. He was loving and lovable. He liked to put on a rough show. I mean he liked to talk tough. He presented to me a softness. And I was full of my Oriental, religious view of things. I never attempted to talk to him about it because he didn't respond to it. I took it that it was his concern with the world which was from boyhood because of his parentage and finding the same ugliness and stupidity in the art world as in the world that made him so convinced that life wasn't worth living." -Wallace Putnam

Mark is often presented as off-putting; however, he really was quite warm, nurturing and could be very funny." - Regina Bogat

"(Rothko had) a genuine charitable impulse. It grew out of real sympathy. I don't think it was a put-on in any way, nor for self-aggrandizement...there are numbers of cases in which while he was alive he helped persons and always anonymously. He never wanted it known, nor did he ever talk about it." - Stanley Kunitz

*forgive typos, my brain does not see them until weeks after the fact

[ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult]

Unpredictable Part 3-Limoreau x black!fem!reader fic

A/N: AAAH, thank you for all the support on this. I didn't think it'd be a series but I can't stop writing.

Warnings: toxic parents, body shaming, eating disorders, alcohol abuse, and swearing

Words: 7.7k

Series Masterlist

 “…and that’s how I knew that I was meant to do charity work,” the nasal redhead concluded.

That afternoon, the Si Chi house was packed with pledges in floral or puffy Selkie and Miss Selfridge sun dresses. A handful of servers circulated the foyer with trays of orange juice and mimosas. The combination of Prada Candy and Viktor Rolfe Flowerbomb made my head spin but I smiled through it as I nodded at different pledges’ stories. All of them were desperately trying to toe the line between interesting and bragging because one could never act too important for a potential house.

“That’s great news,” I glanced at her name tag, “Brenda since Si Chi regularly engages in philanthropic work.”

 Brenda smiled widely, making the hot pink blush on her cheeks even more prominent. “I know, that’s why I’m so interested in joining this---your house.”

“Well, we are glad that you took the time to visit us. Would you excuse me?”

As I weaved my way through the foyer, I plucked a mimosa from a passing server and started sipping. Exactly five seconds passed until I was surrounded by a new crop of bright-eyed freshmen.

“Oh my gosh, are you Y/N Y/L/N?” a willowy brunette asked.

“Guilty, and you are?”

“She’s Justine,” a shorter brunette interrupted.

Justine narrowed her eyes and thinly covered the glare with a smile. “I can introduce myself, thanks, Renee.”

Renee shrunk a little in her oversized light blue sundress and I glanced at Justine.

“So, why are you interested in our house?” I asked.

Justine straightened up and smiled like a pageant girl. “Well, I’m perfectly aligned with all the values of Si Chi: Sisterhood, respect, and intelligence. I am all about women empowerment and I respect people from all backgrounds----I’m exposed to a bunch of different people as an actress, anyway.”

“What about intelligence?”

“Well, I think there’s many different kinds of intelligence and, as an actress, I’m emotionally intelligent to the point where I’m exhausted by everyone else’s energy.”

“She really has to prioritize self-care,” Renee added.

“It’s great that you’re aware of that for yourself.”

She had to be one of the least self-aware people I ever encountered and that was a difficult fete. However, her socials had decent numbers and she had been in a few Vought Plus movies, which would help her win Sydney and Lydia, the vice president, over. The next two years with her and her friend would be irritating.

A softer expression slipped across Justine’s face, and she took a step towards me. “I just want to say that I think it’s so brave that you’ve been participating in all the rush events despite your traumatic experience. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to see Luke,” she paused and placed a hand on her chest, “kill himself.”

Though it had been a week since, it still felt like a bomb rolled off Justine’s tongue when she said it. The wave of emotions that I experienced in that time was hard to describe; Shetty said that grief was a rollercoaster, and the influx of emotions was normal.

“As impossible as it may seem, one day you will come to accept what happened,” she’d advised. “You may experience more anxiety but, with your network, I am sure you will be able to cope.”

The network she referred to was strained at best and destroyed at worst. My “sisters” were as supportive as they could be: Alina gave me a Lush self-care kit, Sasha was not nearly as antagonizing as usual, Lydia gave me grief book recommendations, and Sydney let me pick what workout classes we attended. Emma and Cate were the only non-Si Chi people I spoke to since it was way too difficult to speak to the others.

Justine placed her hand on my shoulder. “If you ever need someone to talk to, you can count on me.”

“Thank you for the thought,” I replied, smiling tightly.

“You must be so grateful that Marie was there to stop him,” Renee quipped.

I sipped some more juice to keep the confusing feelings from bubbling up. Nothing could have prepared me for Marie and Andre being propped as the Guardians of Godolkin, which was arguably the dumbest name Vought could give them. The less I wanted to see them, the more I saw their promos and videos. It was horrible that the last time we spoke we had a fight but every time I saw her, I felt a weird wrench in my chest.

At the very least, Emma seemed happy for her.

Then, Coco Allen, a Si Chi junior, appeared from the crowd and squeezed between the freshmen. “There you are, Y/N, I have a crim freshman with a water manipulation ability who wants to pick your brain.”

“Sure. Will you excuse me?”

“Bye!” Renee called as Coco pulled me through the crowd.

When we got to the less populated living room, I exhaled a breath I did not know I was holding. Then, I turned to the beaming Coco.

“Thank you,” I said.

“You’re welcome. You know I hate entitled freshmen,” Coco mused.

Coco was the only other black girl in Si Chi and happened to be the first one to talk to me when I visited the house last year. She was a little shorter than me with deep mahogany skin that always glowed. She always wore her waist-length jet-black hair in tight curls and accessorized solely with gold jewelry. That day, she wore a fitted white sundress with espadrilles.

“Were there this many last year?” I asked.

Coco shook her head. “But there are a few more black girls so it’s promising.”

“That’s great! I hope I can find them before the event’s over.”

“That would be great.” Coco eyed me. “So, how are you holding up?”

“I’m okay, the mimosas don’t hurt though.”

“They never do. You didn’t have to come today, you know, you could have taken more time, get out of here for a minute.”

I shook my head. “I needed this, it’s a nice distraction or, it has been. Besides, what would it look like if the secretary didn’t attend?”

Coco nodded slowly but I could tell that the gears in her head were turning too much for her to be convinced. “You’re already Sydney and Lydia’s favorite and they might have let it slide.”

I cocked my head at her and she immediately started chuckling half-heartedly.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. The hoops they make us jump through are ridiculous,” Coco reflected.

“It makes sense why you didn’t want to be an officer even though you’re poli sci,” I commented.

Coco grinned. “Hey, I’m making decent connections just by being in this house. This is just a steppingstone on my path to become the first black woman supe president.”

Even though the title was long, if anyone could do it, it was Coco. One time last year I sat in on one of her debates in class and she had a senior in tears and their debate partner ready to put their laser eyes to good use.

“Well, don’t forget little ole me when you’re a big shot,” I teased.

Coco frowned. “What do you mean ‘little’? You have done too much to talk like that.”

I shrugged. “Not that they’re not as important but my four-year plan is less impressive than yours.”

“Oh yeah, the plan where you basically end up a trophy wife? No shade but, I think you’d be way too bored in that role.”

“Hey, I would have a city contract too. Plus, it’s what I want and what I see for myself every time I look into the future. Every step I have taken up until this point puts me closer to that.”

My voice was much stronger than I thought it would be but Coco was always pushing me. Some days it was motivating and on others, it was infuriating.

“Like I said, I’m not trying to crush your dreams or your plan but is that really all you want for yourself? Especially thinking about all the good you’re already doing with your powers?” Coco questioned.

Her words plagued me for the rest of the event and bugged me when we gave our ratings of the pledges to Sydney and Lydia.

“Oh, and Y/N, don’t forget to send me that compilation with all the pledges’ socials,” Sydney requested as I was on my way out of the foyer.

“Of course, you’ll have it by the end of the day.”

Everything was much quieter underwater, except for my thoughts, but those were much clearer. Every time I thought about where I would be in five years, it was the same: smiling at a city event on the arm of some suit. I never saw the man’s face but I knew he had to be somewhat attractive. My eyes fluttered closed at the bottom of the pool and I focused on my future.

It was the same image, complete with flashing cameras and I was wearing a gorgeous rose pink Oscar de la Renta gown. My hair was piled on top of my head in Senegalese twists, and I was smiling widely. However, when I tried to look at whose arm I was on, it was like I could not turn my head. The harder I tried, the sorer the side of my neck got.

After a few more seconds of trying, I pushed myself up to the surface and sucked in the air. The sky was a mix of orange, purple, and blue. Sydney was blasting “My Head, My Heart”, which signaled that she was getting ready to go out with Eric Landon, the president of Sigma Kappa. It would be nice to be asked on a date, a proper one without the expectations of sex later.

My face warmed at the fact that I had never actually been asked out. People constantly told me how good looking I was but that did not translate into boys falling all over themselves for me. There were the occasional fun nights out but it would always end in that same venue. I didn’t think I asked for too much: flowers, good morning and good night texts, respect, intelligence, and ambition. Emma told me I watched too many movies once and while that could have been true, I also thought that it wasn’t too much to ask a guy to hold a door open.

It also did not help that Jordan was the last person I ever got close to being intimate with. I groaned at the thought and dove underwater, making my way to the other side of the pool.

An almost-kiss should mean absolutely nothing but I could not stop thinking about it, just like I could not stop thinking about how Jordan would throw me under the bus to save themselves. I would never do that to anyone, especially not someone I cared about.

But you already did, the voice in my head hissed.

Marie didn’t count, I didn’t mean to do that; Andre, Luke, Cate, and Jordan decided for me. I would have stayed if it was my choice but that didn’t matter to Marie or any of them.

I pushed myself from the side of the pool and butterfly stroked my way to the other side. Thankfully, the water was heated and soothed my aching muscles. As I was about to resurface, I noted a blurry tall blonde figure standing above me. When I pushed up, Cate stood over me, her eyes worried.

“Hey,” I greeted.

“Hi, can we talk?”

“Sure.”

A few seconds later, I was wrapped in a fluffy towel and standing across from Cate. Her eyes shifted around for a moment before she suggested we headed inside. When we got to my room, she immediately closed the door behind us.

“Is there any way someone would have listening devices in here?” Cate asked.

“No,” I said slowly.

“Are you sure? There’s shit out now where they put it in the tiniest crevices and you would never know,” Cate argued.

“I would have seen it or had a hint about it. What’s going on?”

Cate finally sat on my bed, and I opted to stand across from her. “Andre and I found some stuff that makes Luke and Brink’s deaths way more complicated.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, for one thing, they totally cleared out his room the day after he died and I mean everything.”

My eyes widened. “Even the…special drawer?”

“Yes, and at first, I thought it was protocol but what would they do with all those----”

“I get it, Cate, what else did you and Andre find?”

As Cate continued to speak, I could feel my stomach sink further and further, until I was sure it was somewhere in the house basement. Nothing Cate said meant anything positive for anyone. If there was some kind of lab under us, that meant anyone could become a part of it.

“Have you told anyone else?” I asked.

Cate huffed and leaned back on my bed. “Well, Jordan’s been spiraling about Marie and the rankings, so I can’t get a word in about anything else.”

“They’re spiraling?” I asked.

“You haven’t talked to them since Luke died?” Cate asked.

When she said it like that, it sounded like I committed a cardinal sin. After that day, there was nothing else for me to say to them. Even though I saw them in class occasionally, I never spoke to them and desperately tried to avoid eye contact.

“They could have reached out too,” I muttered.

“You’re such a younger sibling,” Cate commented.

“It’s true!” I whined.

“Well, they’ve been freaking out about the rankings since they fell down to number five and Andre’s number one.”

Being in the Top Five was like Jordan’s lifeline. They’d always shared a friendly rivalry with Luke but I knew they wanted to be number one eventually. They spent almost all their time making sure they stayed in a high position and to drop to bottom of the Top Five must have been devastating.

“Oh no,” I whispered.

“Yeah, and your new best friend cracked the Top 100 and is Jordan’s new nemesis,” Cate added.

 I walked over to my dresser and pulled out a chocolate brown loungewear set. “Neither of them are my friends.”

Cate frowned. “Seriously, what is going on with you? The other night, you and Marie were inseparable, and you and Jordan were bantering. What happened?”

It must have been the fact that I was holding all my thoughts and feelings in because I burst.

“Marie and I can’t be friends since she thinks I’m a shallow bitch who would sacrifice her to save myself because I hang out with people who do. The funny part is that Jordan admitted they would backstab me if they could get ahead, which is definitely not something I would do to a friend or anyone I almost kissed!”

I was panting by the end and my chest felt a lot lighter. However, my nerves began to build when I noticed Cate’s mischievous grin.

“Who did you almost kiss?” Cate asked.

“That’s not the point,” I mumbled.

Cate stared at me for a second before lighting up. “It was Jordan, wasn’t it?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“You hesitated which means I’m right. It could have easily been Marie though since you were all over her.”

“Why do people keep saying that? I was being nice!”

Cate held up her hands in a relaxed defense. “Chill, Y/N, it’s okay to like more than one person at once.”

“I don’t like either of them.”

“At all?” Cate quirked an eyebrow.

“No,” I pouted.

Cate looked unimpressed and I felt even more unimpressed since I knew that I liked Marie and Jordan platonically.

“Okay, we’ll save that for later but, I don’t think Jordan would tell you that they would backstab you and they would not think about it. They would do it to other people, but not you.”

“You’re just saying that because they’re your friend and you weren’t there.”

Cate cocked her head to the side. “Think, Y/N, did Jordan really say, ‘I would backstab you if it would save my ass’?”

As I recalled the memory, I slowly rocked back and forth on my heels. “They didn’t say that but, they didn’t answer me when I asked if they would.” “You probably caught them off guard,” Cate reasoned. “I’m sure if you talked to them, things would go okay.”

I hesitated and set my clothes on my bed. “Let’s say that I decided to speak to them, I don’t know what to say. Even if I did, my class tomorrow isn’t with them.

“You’re not going to the Think Brink gala tomorrow night?” Cate asked.

Earlier that day, Mom mentioned something about a gala on the phone but I was only half-listening. In my defense, there was only so much complaining about her clients and Dad that I could stand. I grabbed my phone from my nightstand and “Go to Brink gala” was in bright letters on my calendar.

“I guess I am,” I concluded.

“Then, you have some time to figure it out. You might get lucky and not even have to say anything.” I nodded and messed with the charm on my phone. “But what about Marie?”

“You’ll figure that out too. Indira’s taking her to the gala so, you can get both your ‘friends’ back,” Cate said, putting “friends” in air quotes.

“Why did you do it like that? Don’t say it like that.”

“Just because you’re in denial doesn’t mean I am. Think about it, would you be this freaked out if we had a fight?”

The “yes” should have come immediately but it didn’t; it died in my throat, and I couldn’t look at Cate. Why were things different with Marie and Jordan? Why did I stress out about them when I tried to stop thinking about them?

“Can you just make me say the right thing?” I asked.

Cate mulled it over for a moment. “I think it’s best if you do it yourself. If you don’t have a vision about it, something will come to you.”

“Thanks, Cate. If you and Andre need any help snooping----”

“You will be the first person I text,” Cate assured.

“I was going to say that I’ll probably know before you.”

I narrowly avoided the pillow Cate tossed at me and laughed at her effort.

“Maybe you are getting a little too cocky, Y/N.” She stood and walked over to me. “And for the record, I would never betray you in any way, neither would Andre or Jordan. If either of them did, they would have to deal with me.”

“Thanks, I would hug you but I’m still soaking wet.”

“Yeah, that’s smart. I know this might be useless but try not to worry about everything.”

I shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt to try.”

“You’re taking the meds from Indira?”

“Yes, Mom,” I teased.

“Just trying to help.”

Strangely, that was the first night since Luke’s death that I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. The trend was that I would strain myself to have premonitions until I was exhausted and tried again in the morning. For once, sleep found me quickly.

After sitting through a two-hour lecture on trauma’s impact on villains and heroes, I was more than happy to wander back to the Si Chi house and decompress. In a few hours, Talia, Mom’s assistant, would arrive with options for the gala. Then, the glam team would arrive and do their best to ignore Mom while they did their jobs.

I needed all the relaxation I could get.

 As I was mentally reviewing which movies I could watch, my phone kept buzzing in my back pocket. I thought it was another flurry of comments on the TikTok Coco and I made yesterday but it was from a strange number.

XXX-XXX-XXXX: Y/N, pls come 2 my dorm, it’s an emergency.

XXX-XXX-XXXX: Im srry we haven’t talked in a while but it’s important.

I frowned and typed back, ????

XXX-XXX-XXXX: It’s Marie. Emma’s in trouble.

My stomach dropped and I replied, B there soon.

As I raced around other people on campus, my thoughts moved faster at the possibility of what could have been going on with Emma. The last time I had spoken to her was two days ago and she was okay then. If anything, she may have been tense because Marie and I were not speaking but she had not said anything else.

I was halfway to their dorm when I ran into something solid.

“Watch where you’re going, Y/N,” Maverick sneered.

“If you put on some clothes, maybe I’d see you,” I shot back as I continued down the hall.

When I finally got to their dorm, I was panting and could barely knock. Marie pulled the door open, pulled me in, and closed the door behind me.

“Did you sprint here?” she asked.

I nodded. “You said…it was…an….emergency…Emma.”

In the middle of me grabbing my bearings, I noticed something tiny next to one of the supports on Emma’s bed. Slowly, I slid to my knees and crawled over to it. When I realized who it was, a choked gasp escaped my mouth.

“What happened?” I whispered.

“I don’t know. She was like that when I got here and I didn’t know what to do so I called you since you’ve known her the longest,” Marie rambled.

Her words barely registered in my brain as I went to one of Emma’s drawers, grabbed a small set of clothes, wrapped her in it, and carefully set her on her bed. Emma was barely breathing and was ghostly pale.

“Emma, I know you’re probably not going to like this but, you’re going to need to eat something.”

She didn’t reply and for a second, I wondered if she could.

I started rifling through all her stuff until I found a box of crackers. My hands trembled as I broke them into small pieces and kneeled in front of Emma. She never looked at me as she nibbled on each crumb I fed her.

Eventually, she grew back to her normal size. As soon as she was, she pulled her knees to her chest.

“I’m sorry you saw me like that,” she muttered.

Slowly, I sat next to her and it was almost the same way zookeepers treated wild animals. If one moved calmly enough, they would not get attacked. Marie sat on her bed.

“It’s okay, I’m glad we were able to help,” I replied. “What happened?”

Emma sniffed. “I opened up to this girl in my class. We’re scene partners for a project and we were talking, and I guess I felt comfortable enough to tell her about how I get small. I thought it was just between us, but she posted this…this video on YouTube telling the whole world about it.”

“Who’s the girl?” Marie asked.

“How do you get small?” I uttered at the same time.

Emma froze for a moment and looked away from me. “I make myself…sick.”

When she said it, I suddenly remembered all those times she would go to the bathroom and then come out a miniature version of herself. However, all those times, it was for different commercials or other work-related events. Then again, there had to be times when she did it at home or at my house.

How did I never notice? “Emma, I’m so sorry. I wish you would’ve told me sooner,” I said.

Emma turned to me with a glare in her eyes. “Really? How would I work that into a conversation? ‘Hey, Y/N, I’m sorry to interrupt but, I make myself throw up to get small’?”.

“We’re friends, friends tell each other this kind of thing,” I insisted.

Emma scoffed. “Please, like you would get it if I told you. You’re perfect, you always have been. Your face, your hair, your body, your eyes, your life!”

“That’s not fair.”

“Emma, I think you need to get help,” Marie interrupted.

Emma’s gaze flickered to hers and I thought she might set Marie on fire. “I need to get help, that’s rich coming from you. You act like no one can see your scars.”

Marie flinched and her eyes narrowed slightly. “I do that for my powers, that’s different.”

Emma laughed callously. “Please, at least be honest. How about this: I’ll go to therapy when you admit to cutting.”

Emma’s voice had no tone and every word she said was like a hammer slamming into my chest. She wasn’t in the right headspace for any conversation and I kept reminding myself as I stood.

“We should talk later when we’ve all calmed down,” I suggested.

“I don’t want to speak to either of you again,” she hissed.

It took more effort than usual to swallow the lump in my throat as I let myself out of their dorm. Just as I was about to lean against the door and wallow, Marie slipped out behind me and shut the door. I took a step back, barely avoiding a pair of girls rushing past.

“Sorry,” she apologized.

“It’s fine.”

Silence filled the space for a moment, and I had no idea how to fill it. Cate said I would know what to say but I was at a loss.

“I’m sorry about what I said…that day,” Marie delivered gently.

My eyes snapped up at her. “Oh.”

She sighed. “I was just angry, and I thought you were a part of it but, Emma kept saying that you would never do something like that. I just didn’t know how to reach out or say anything.”

I know the feeling.

“I accept your apology but I’m also sorry that no one came back for you. I guess it worked out, though?”

Marie sighed and leaned against her door. “Sort of. The perks are nice and I’m in crim now but I feel like everyone’s looking at me and expects something from me; almost like they’re waiting for me to fail.”

“Really? They had me convinced you’d be the black Starlight,” I teased.

Marie laughed half-heartedly. “I still want to be a hero, though, someone like her people can look up to.”

“Anyone in particular?”

Marie hesitated. “My little sister. We were both obsessed with heroes when we were younger, but I was the one who got Compound V. She always looked up to me and I want to be someone who would make her proud.”

“That’s a really admirable goal,” I complimented.

She smiled softly. “What about you? Shouldn’t you be my competition to be the black Starlight?”

My expression faltered and I looked down at my French acrylics. “No, I don’t think I have the showmanship you do. Besides, my goal isn’t to be in the Seven.”

“Really? What do you want to do?” Marie asked.

“So, I have this four year plan and if I follow the steps I am on to a T, I will graduate with a city contract and be engaged to an eligible supe.”

Usually, when I told someone my four year plan, my chest swelled and my shoulders rolled back unconsciously. This time, it felt like I was a toddler showing my mom a drawing I made in school.

“Is that it?” Marie asked.

“I know it’s more traditional and maybe even a little lame but, it’s what I want,” I maintained.

Marie nodded slowly.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, I just imagined you doing something in, like, criminal AI or stopping criminals from re-offending.”

“Both are great, they’re just not me.”

“Which is fine,” Marie insisted.

She sounded a little too eager but I let it go as we started walking down the hallway.

“What should we do about Emma?” Marie asked.

“I’ve never seen her like that before but she’ll need time to cool off.”

“Sounds good, I just have nowhere to go until the gala tonight.”

“You could come to Si Chi for a bit. I can’t promise they won’t try to initiate you, though.”

Marie laughed. “Me, in a sorority?”

“Hey, we’re getting more black girls this year so you never know!”

“Whatever but, yeah, I’d like to hang out with you…at your house.”

Even though Marie rushed the last part, a smile quirked on the corners of my mouth. It would be nice to have a new friend over and it was even nicer that there was no more tension between us.

“You know, Emma never told us the name of that girl,” Marie pondered once we got outside.

“Oh, that’s easy.” I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I reached the right one.

Shelby answered on the first ring. “Y/N, hi!” “Hey, are you on your way to class?” I asked.

“Yeah, if I’m late one more time, Professor Elix is going to make me do an improv one-woman show!” she panted.

“Well, I don’t want to slow you down but, you have class with Emma Meyer, right?”

“Oh yeah, Intro to Stage, why?”

“Cool. She told me her stage partner has an incredible Insta aesthetic, but she never told me her name and I need new inspo.”

“Oh, that’s Justine. I don’t know her last name but I’m sure you’ll find her.”

“Thanks, Shelby. Have fun in class.”

“Thanks!”

I hung up and turned to Marie, whose eyebrows were raised. “What?”

“What was that voice?” Marie asked.

“It was my voice. Haven’t you heard of code-switching?”

“Fine. Did you get the name?”

“Yes, Justine and I’ve met her.”

“What? How?”

“She’s rushing Si Chi.” I couldn’t keep the devilish smile from working its way into my mouth.

“What does that look mean?” Marie asked.

“It means that there are many more perks to being in a top house besides living in it.”

For some reason, everyone thinks that white girls have a monopoly on passive aggression and relational aggression. That was not the case at all; black girls simply are more inclined towards active aggression but we’re capable of both. I proved as much during Brink’s gala.

The ballroom was packed with board members, trustees, alumni, and the wealthiest GOD U students, the latter being my target of interest. They were all easy to approach since I had met them at some function or another.

“Y/N,” Bianca Peterson gushed as she hugged me.

Her Gucci Guilty perfume tickled my nose and I willed myself not to sneeze as I politely pulled away from her. “Bianca, it’s been too long. I think the last time I saw you was at Beta Ro’s Brunch for Boy Scouts.”

Bianca nodded, light auburn curls bouncing around her sculpted features. “Yes, we bonded over jewelry.”

“And you still have fantastic taste,” I mentioned, gesturing to the gold buckle around her wrist.

“Thank you, it was a present from Theo but I gave him a few hints,” she bragged lightly.

“How is rush going?” I asked.

“Pretty well, our pledges are shaping up nicely this year, not that they don’t every year,” she quickly added the last part.

“Of course. Do you have a lot of girls from Counting?”

“We’re interested in a couple, why? Are you trying to poach?”

I shook my head. “Not at all, I just wasn’t sure if you heard what Layla from Zeta Nu discovered.”

Bianca raised a microbladed brow. “No, I don’t think I have.”

I took a deep inhale and slowly shook my head in disbelief. “Oh, well, I should let it come from her then.”

A moment later, Bianca glanced across the room at Layla Ruthers, the president of Zeta Nu, who was smiling politely at a pair of hunched-over old men.

“In case I don’t have a chance to talk to her, what happened?” Bianca asked.

I glanced around us for a moment before leaning closer. “Apparently, a freshman posted a video about another girl’s eating disorder.”

“Really?” Bianca’s eyes widened.

I nodded. “Layla was insulted for the other girl and banned the pledge from rushing Zeta Nu. She even said that no respectable house would accept someone so low-class.”

“Oh,” Bianca uttered.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take up all your time. I should go mingle.”

I made it about two steps before Bianca gently grabbed one of my arms.

“Wait, Y/N. Did Layla say the name of the pledge?”

My eyes wandered around the twinkling lights of the room for a second. “Justine something, I think.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you later.”

“Sure!”

The rest of my conversations followed that pattern. Each girl I spoke to was shocked and horrified by my words. Plus, none of them would dare speak to the other; that would mean another house had better information than them. My final target was easily the most important one: Sydney.

In her ice-blue mermaid dress and intricate updo, she looked more like Cinderella than a gala attendee. She was standing at a table, nodding her head at something a shorter guy was saying.

“Excuse me,” I politely interrupted, “I need to borrow Sydney for a second.”

The guy deflated slightly. “Sure.”

“I’ll see you soon.” Sydney huffed a sigh of relief as soon as we were out of earshot. “Thank you, I don’t know what he was even talking about.”

“Anytime,” I replied.

She snatched a champagne flute from a passing server and downed half of it. “I can’t wait for this night to be over.”

I nodded. “It is morbid despite their attempt to dress it up.”

“Yeah, and my parents won’t stop bugging me about my future. I can only apply to so many internships and not everyone is looking for a telekinetic,” she griped. “Sorry, how are you?”

“I’m alright. Ironically, I think he’d hate the name they picked but I didn’t know him super well,” I admitted.

“Right.”

Here it goes.

“So, I think the event the other day was a success,” I commented.

“Definitely. The house was packed. It’s too bad we can’t accept them all.”

Sydney smiled as she spoke.

“I know. It’s great that there’s so much interest.” I paused for a second. “But, I wanted to tell you that something came up with one of the pledges.”

Sydney gestured for me to continue.

“Even though my social media deep dive on the pledges was thorough, something came up today that I thought you should know when considering the pledges,” I explained.

“Okay.”

“Today, Justine posted a video exposing another girl’s eating disorder. Several of the girls were upset when they saw it.”

“That’s awful,” Sydney responded.

“It’s also so disappointing since I met Justine during that event, and she was saying how women empowerment is important to her. I know that women empowerment is a huge passion for you and a foundation for Si Chi and to imagine a pledge so willing to tear down another woman infiltrating the safe space you building is horrifying.”

Despite the liquor, I could tell Sydney was processing my words quicker than any computer. Her expression shifted from shock to anger to coldness. Then, she finished the last of her champagne and set it on the table closest to us. “Thank you for telling me, Y/N. I’ll see you later.”

As she walked away, I grinned widely at the response. Bid Day was going to be even more fun and interesting than last year. To celebrate, I grabbed myself a flute of champagne and sipped it as I started to wander the room.

“Y/N!”

My body froze at the masculine voice and my mind raced with what to say or do. Finally, I decided to face Jordan. They were in their masculine form and standing at a table by themselves. Though they looked fantastic in their navy suit, they looked like they hadn’t slept in days.

“Hello.”

I practically sang it and prayed for someone to make the floor swallow me.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

“Um, sure.” I walked closer to their table and rested my forearms on it.

 “It’s good to see you,” he started. “Outside of class, I mean.”

“You too.”

Jordan nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s good.” He paused. “I’m sorry about everything.”

I looked up from tapping my nails on the tablecloth. “Wh---”

“Please, let me finish. That day…I don’t know why I didn’t just tell you that I wouldn’t throw you under the bus but I wouldn’t even think about it. How could I do that to my little freshman?”

For the first time ever, my chest warmed at the nickname. However, I tried to bite back the smile that was worming its way onto my face.

I glanced away for a moment, crossing my arms over my purple sleeveless satin gown. “Well, I guess I forgive you,” I playfully grumbled before turning back to him. “But you still did it pretty easily to Marie.”

Jordan’s expression faltered and he sipped some champagne. “Don’t mention her.”

“Why not? She’s my friend and we did a very mean thing,” I argued.

“Look, I protected myself and you that night, I won’t apologize for that. Besides, she’s still here and she’s doing great,” he spat.

“I know you’re pissed about the rankings but, those can change, especially with how hard you work and how powerful you are.”

Jordan scoffed. “That’s how it should work but no one wants to back a bigender Asian.”

His words made me stop for a second. In all the time I knew them, Jordan seemed invincible to punches, laser beams, electric shocks, and words. They made succeeding at Godolkin look so easy but it must have been anything but. Plus, Luke and Brink’s death must have impacted everything else.

“We’ll see about that,” I challenged. “There’s about thirty trustees and every board member in this room. There will have to be a few who will like you.”

Jordan hesitated. “I’m not really in the mood to promote myself.”

“Then let me talk,” I offered.

He eyed me for a while before crossing over to my side of the table and looping one of his arms with mine. “Don’t make me look bad, freshie.”

“I think that’s impossible.”

The first target was easy: a thirtysomething white guy with floppy light brown hair and an oversized gray suit. I focused on him for a moment, gathering as much information as I could.

“Trevor Emerson, GOD U alum and old money beneficiary,” I muttered to Jordan.

“Isn’t he supposed to hate me?” Jordan hissed back.

“He’s overcome by white guilt since his recent discovery that all the black and brown people who built and managed his family’s manor were not salaried employees,” I explained. “He’s dying to look as much of an ally as possible.”

Jordan straightened up. “Good job, freshie.”

“I haven’t even gotten started.” I painted a polite smile on my face. “Mr. Emerson, it’s so nice to meet you, can we bother you for a moment?”

Two guilty and three haughty donors later, Jordan and I found ourselves at a different table. It was the first time that I saw him smile that night.

“You were amazing out there,” Jordan exclaimed.

“Thank you but you also made my job a little easier being talented and whatever,” I joked.

“Seriously.” Jordan grabbed my hand. “You might have saved my ass.”

I tried to ignore the tingle that shot up from my hand into the side of my neck. “It’s okay, I’m happy to help.”

When they announced that the video was about to start Jordan sulked again. “I can’t believe they’re making us sit through this shit.”

“Me neither.” I rest my hand on top of his. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask sooner but, are you okay?”

Jordan laughed humorlessly. “No but schmoozing with you did help a little. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah.”

When we parted our separate ways, I wiped my sweaty palms on my dress skirt and approached my table. Fortunately, Mom and Dad had not burned down the ballroom with their arguing. In fact, when I got to their table, Mom was on her phone and Dad was rhythmically tapping his fingers against the tablecloth, looking anywhere but her.

“Hi, were you bored with me gone?” I asked, giving Dad a side hug.

“Not at all. I met a few board members and sold a few pictures,” he responded.

I nodded and slowly took the middle seat between them. The video was equal parts patronizing and infuriating. However, my parents’ whispers kept me from focusing too much on the video.

“Y/M/N, can you get off the phone for one second? They’re playing the video,” Dad hissed.

“I am about to cut the biggest deal of this quarter. They can send it,” Mom hissed back, waving a manicured hand for emphasis.

“Mom, people are starting to stare,” I quietly interjected.

“Let them stare. This is what’s paying for you to be here.”

“Don’t act like I don’t contribute!” Their words used to make me flinch but I forced myself to sit up straighter and breathe.

“I’m grateful for it, for both of you, really. You both paid to be here and I thought you would not want to miss the man they’re honoring,” I whispered.

Those words made Mom slowly mutter something into the phone before placing it face down on the table and leaning forward. At that same time, they flashed a picture of Brink and me across the screen. He had been meeting with my small group when the photographer appeared.

Dad squeezed an arm around my shoulder and I softly leaned into his touch.

“Thank God you lost that baby fat,” Mom commented.

“Y/M/N,” Dad said quietly.

“You know it’s true, Y/D/N,” Mom hissed back.

Suddenly, Dad’s arm felt like a boa constrictor, and I gracefully slipped out of its grasp. When the video ended, I drank a fresh flute of champagne. The bubbles instantly went to my head as I giggled at Dean Shetty introducing Marie.

She looked really pretty even though she was nervous.

“Do you know her?” Mom asked over the applause.

“We’re friends,” I replied.

“So why is she a guardian and not you?”

“She was more involved in stopping Luke than me,” I lied.

 When Dean Shetty cued everyone to return to socializing, Mom turned to me.

“Your grades are fantastic and your standing in your house is good,” Mom began. “But eligible bachelors will not notice you unless you stand out like her.”

“Y/M/N, leave her alone. Anyone who doesn’t notice Y/N isn’t worthy of being in our family anyway,” Dad defended.

Mom ignored him. “That girl, Marie Moreau, is not your friend, she is your competition. You are in the prime setting to have everything you’ve ever wanted but she could snatch it from you. You’re supposed to be able to see things like this coming, Y/N.”

“I do see things coming and I know Marie wouldn’t do that to me,” I quipped.

At that moment, Mom’s eyes bore so deep into me that I didn’t think that anyone could claw them out. Her eyes looked like they were going to bug out of her head at any moment and I could feel my breathing pick up.

“I’m sorry, it just slipped out,” I promised.

It felt like forever until she leaned back in her seat and grabbed her phone.

“Make sure it doesn’t ‘slip out’ again. Now go socialize.”

“I need a minute, Mom, I’ve been socializing since we got here.”

Mom rolled her eyes. “This again.”

“What?”

“Y/M/N, please.”

“No, no, Y/D/N, she is constantly using, what, anxiety to get out of speaking to people. You are always too soft on her and make me look like the bad guy. I’m the one helping her be normal,” Mom snapped. “Anxiety didn’t exist when we were her age, we just did what we had to do, and look where we are now.”

I wondered if Emma ever felt as small as I did in that moment. Then, I wondered if she ever made herself small to hide from people, even her mom. Wordlessly, I left the table and tried to avoid any cameras as the tears burned in the corners of my eyes.

I tried to take deep breaths to calm my trembling chest and keep my throat busy. My chest shifted from trembling to heavy and I started looking around the room.

“I hear one piano…feel two fingers…smell three different alcohols…and see---”

“Y/N, are you okay?” Cate’s voice broke me out of my rhythm and I glanced to see her sitting with Marie and Jordan, who was in their feminine form.

My chest felt much lighter and I quickly wiped away my tears. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” Jordan called gently.

Cate pulled me into a hug and had me sit between her and Marie. “What happened?”

“My parents, well, my mom mostly. I guess I got too anxious for her, and she yelled at me,” I rambled.

Cate smiled softly. “Then you came at the perfect time. We were just talking about our horrible parents.”

My ears perked up. “Really?”

“Well, mine are dead,” Marie commented.

I turned to her and placed my hands on top of hers. “What? I’m so sorry. How did it…”

“I accidentally killed them with my powers,” Marie explained.

“That must have been horrible.”

Marie barely nodded and I squeezed her hands. “I just told my little brother to go away during a camping trip. He never came back and my mom pretty much locked me away,” Cate confessed. “I was seven.”

 “What?” I whispered.

“I killed my grandpa with my powers,” Jordan interjected.

We all turned to her and I cocked my head to the side.

“No, you didn’t,” Cate countered.

Jordan smiled. “You’re right, I was feeling left out.”

I didn’t think that I could laugh the way I did but it felt so nice. At least I had friends again.

When I started sipping on the whiskey Cate stole, I saw a brief image flash before my eyes. There was a guy with curly brown hair covered in dirt running away from several bloody bodies. He paused for a moment and opened his hand, revealing a tiny sleeping Emma. When the vision left, Andre was standing in front of us.

“Seriously?” I complained before he even spoke.

[only-lonely-star]

Fic request:

Twobits little sister gets mad at their mom and runs away from home and ends up getting lost and terrorized by some Soc kids after she wanders into their side of town. Darry is over there roofing when he spots her wandering all upset and scratched up amd immediately goes into protective mode? I feel Darry is good with kids and I just want to see that more please 🙏

❤️ stay gold

୨୧ ☁︎ Too Young ☁︎ ୨୧

~ Darrel Curtis, Two-Bit’s kid sister (PLATONIC) ~

This is NOT an ‘x Reader’ story.

Warnings - I feel like classifying this as angst is a better description, so there are obviously a few warnings. Mentions of drinking, running away from home, minor pain inflicted on a small child, manhandling, harassment.

Summary - Karol Matthews has had enough, her plan to run away from home not going as expected. Luckily for her, a brotherly figure comes to her aid.

Author’s Note - This one is a bit of a longer fic compared to the other ones I have posted, so sorry for the long wait! Other requests may take a few days since I am a bit behind. Besides that, I thank you so much for this request! I could totally see Darry becoming protective when it comes to defending someone so special to him. I hope you enjoy it, Stay Gold! 💞

Word Count - 2.6k.

࿐ •°. *࿐ •°. *࿐ •°. *࿐ •°. *࿐ •°. *࿐

(Quick A/N: I try to keep things as accurate as possible to both the book and movie combined. For appearances I go based on the movie since it's easier for me to imagine. BUT it is canon that Two-Bit has a little sister although she is unnamed. I felt like this story would run much smoother if it was in a complete third-person perspective, making this not an 'x reader' story.)

Karol Matthews sat perched atop the armrest of the sofa, her wide eyes filled with curiosity following Keith's every move. He paced around the kitchen, absolutely raiding it and chugging down a cold beer before taking a seat beside his kid sister.

Keith couldn't sit still for the life of him, always buzzing around or out and about with his friends. His leg bounced up and down, sipping on his drink. It was obvious to Karol he was about to venture off and get into some trouble - but their mother didn't mind much. She practically supported his troubling antics from time to time.

Karol tapped on his shoulder, preparing her tiny voice to engage in conversation with him. Keith was zoned out, his consciousness coming back to reality at the gentle tap. He turned his head to face hers, a small grin evident on his face. "What's up?" he posed, the soft tone in his voice typical for her to hear.

"Where are you going?" Karol asked, her voice soft and quiet. She adored Keith and found him to be the funniest person she knew. Even at six years old, the girl had a slight understanding of what exactly her brother would be getting involved in. Late-night drives, smoking and drinking with his buddies, maybe even going out to see a girl. She was aware of the different blonde girls he would bring home, him swearing it was the same person each time - Kathy. She wasn't stupid, she knew they were all different.

"Going out with Dally and some others," he replied simply, expecting a soft sigh and for her to head back to her bedroom. Instead, she smiled and tapped his shoulder again.

"Can I come?" Karol's sweet voice spoke up, her enticing smile attempting to draw him in.

"No," Keith said, taking his free hand to ruffle through her blonde wavy hair affectionately. He found it rather amusing that she wanted to tag along. He chuckled and took another large sip of his beer as Karol pouted and let out a huff.

"Why not?!" she protested, demanding a real answer from him. Karol loved Keith and would rather spend her day out and about with him instead of being stuck at home. She crossed her arms and glared at her brother.

"You're too young," he replied, standing from the sofa swiftly, "Besides, Dally ain't too good with kids."

Karol's irritation only grew from there, souring her mood for the day. She tugged on Keith's arm like a lifeline - pleading to come along. "Please...? I'll be quiet!"

He shook his head firmly, stepping for the door without another word on the matter. He took a deep breath, "Heading out! Be back around seven!"

A woman's voice could be heard shouting back in response, stepping for the door before Keith could leave. "Six!"

She enveloped him in a side hug and kissed his cheek, staining it with a dark hue of pink lipstick. He grinned softly, smearing it off and turning the doorknob. "Six-thirty. Bye, ma,"

She let out a sigh, watching her son dart for his car - beer in hand and all. She turned to Karol with a lopsided smile. "What are we going to do with him? Hm?"

Karol sat back down on the sofa, a frown still intact. "I wanna go," she stated with crossed arms.

Her mother glanced down at her with a slight frown. "You shouldn't be hanging around those boys, you're way too young, honey."

Karol didn't like that. In fact - she hated being referred to as 'too little' or 'too young'. In all reality it was true; she was six years old and nowhere near old enough to befriend a group of teen hoodlums...even if they were her brother's best friends.

"I don't wanna be young! I wanna play with the big kids and be cool," she fumed, eyebrows sewn together and tiny fists clenched.

"Karol... you don't understand. Little girls shouldn't try any of the things they do," her mother shook her head, attempting to calm her down. It was obvious how badly this was affecting Karol's mood, sending the child into an upset rage.

"I'm not a little girl!" she shouted, hopping off the couch and reaching for the doorknob at a moment's notice. "And I'm running away from this place! I'll go find Keith on my own!"

Her mother only rolled her eyes. Karol had done this countless times - attempting to run off and merely making it down the street before she came crawling back. "You'll be back," she muttered under her breath as she watched her daughter pry open the door and step outside into the blazing summer heat.

Karol's dark expression meant business. She didn't intend on coming back this time, she was determined to prove herself as a big kid. With heavy stomps, Karol made her way down the sidewalk, thinking of where her brother could possibly be. He'd taken the car and everything, not even mentioning where he was heading off to. She turned her head around to notice the door had already been shut - stranding her outside for good.

"I'll show her,"

Karol continued on with her journey, wandering down streets she'd never been to before. Every house she passed seemed to appear bigger and bigger. The one-story shacks turned into two-story houses with beautifully painted fences surrounding them. She stared at a few in awe, wondering how she could manage to buy one of her own and prove she was all grown up.

All was well until a few snickers could be heard off into the distance. Karol turned her head and squinted to have a better look at the trio of teenage boys coming her way. Her mind instantly thought those could be Keith's friends. Maybe if she asked them where he could be then she could hitch a ride with them. Her tiny legs strode to stand in front of the boys, a charming smile on her face.

The first to speak up, a tall brunette with khakis and a white button-down, kneeled to her level. A sly grin arose on his lips, his voice coming out overly sweet. "Well... are you lost, kid?"

It was quite obvious Karol wasn't from the area. Her tattered sandals and colorful- yet floral sundress gave it away. No Soc child would wear something so bright and bold. The little girls were typically dressed head to toe in fancy skirts, headbands, and bows. Karol was a misfit.

"I'm looking for my brother," she beamed with a sweet tone in return, oblivious to the evil intent in his tone. The other boys circled around her as they stifled their snickers.

"Who's your brother?" the Soc asked with a raised brow at Karol's revelation. He looked to the other two, motioning for them to stand close by.

"Keith," Karol spoke excitedly, expecting them to immediately welcome her with open arms, "He said he was with Dally. Can you take me wherever that is?"

All three of the boys's ears perked up at the name. 'Dally' was an easy name to remember - recognizing the infamous greaser left quite a small crowd to narrow down from.

"I ain't ever heard of a 'Keith' who hangs 'round Dally," the slim and blonde-haired Soc spoke up, exchanging glances between the others.

The third boy shook his head, furrowing his brows as he tried to recall the person he had in mind. He ran a hand through his jet-black curls. "No, she means Two-Bit. That guy with the funny sideburns."

The brunette Soc who had originally spoken to Karol let out a soft snort. "Two-Bit..." he nodded along, testing out the name on his tongue. "He wear a Mickey Mouse shirt, kid?"

Karol's smile only grew, nodding to confirm that was indeed her big brother. "Yes! That's him!" Her arms pumped up in victory, a gleam of hope in her eyes.

The sight was precious, they didn't even have to push her for answers - she willingly gave them away. The boy chuckled dryly, standing to his feet with a smug smile. "Well since Two-Bit thinks it's funny to swipe cash that ain't his..."

The other boys had a similar look of cruel intent written all over their faces. The blonde boy stood behind her, a singular arm snaking around her small torso to lift her up. Karol yelped in confusion, not expecting such a move.

"Hey!" she hollered to them, her voice almost a whimper. She was roughly tossed in a soaking wet puddle of mud, hidden beneath the grass on a stranger's front lawn. "My dress..." she pouted, tears welling to her eyes.

The boys didn't hesitate to terrorize the poor girl further. They jabbed their hands into the muddy puddle, one holding her down as the other two slathered the mud all over her. She let out a wail, one that anybody in their right mind couldn't brush off.

"Tell your brother to not touch what ain't his next time," the Soc in the white button-down cackled, his hand running down the side of her cheek.

Just as Karol felt she couldn't take any more of the torment - pounding footsteps could be heard coming closer. Her screams and cries for help had paid off, and none other than Darrel Curtis had come to her aid. He grabbed the collar of the brunette's shirt from behind, scaring the other two off. They ran without hesitation, sprinting up the street the same way they came. The boy managed to slip out of Darrel's grasp, speeding off before he really had his world rocked.

Karol still sat in the puddle, wailing and hollering like she never had before. She truly felt those boys would help her find Keith. Darrel cursed under his breath until they were completely out of sight. He quickly turned his focus back to Karol.

Gently helping her up, he placed both hands under her arms to stand her back on her own two feet. He sighed and assessed the situation, looking over her body and face for any signs she was hurt. "You alright?"

Karol used the back of her hand to wipe away the overwhelming amount of tears that flooded her eyes. She nodded and tried to calm herself enough to speak. Darrel was no stranger to her, they had met numerous times before since Two-Bit was close friends with him.

"Darry~" she whimpered, clinging onto his leg as she went in for a hug. She cried softly against him and didn't show any intention of stopping.

Darrel was a bit taken aback, but he rested a hand on her shoulder nonetheless, patting it gently to bring her a bit of comfort. She was muddy all over and was soaking Darrel in the mess but he didn't mind it one bit. The poor child had to have been hurt from the way she had been screaming. "Karol, look at me."

She reluctantly tilted her head upwards to meet his eyes, her pout seemingly stuck on her face. His heart sank at the sight of the girl's dirtied clothing along with a few minor scratches along her face and arms. "What happened? Tell me everything."

He subtly maneuvered her arms off so that he could begin to walk her to his car. He held his hand out to her, opening and closing a fist to motion for her. Her small hand wrapped around his pinky finger, melting his heart further. He listened intently to her soft cries.

"I was looking for Keith...I ran away," Karol explained with a deepening frown, her mind racing with thoughts of him and how she could only hope he was safe out there.

"You ran away?" he echoed, his words almost full of disbelief, "Why would you do that, kiddo?" Darrel guided her to the backseat of his car, the last thing on his mind being the muddy mess she would leave behind. He followed her inside the car, grabbing a hand towel which was stuffed into the back pocket of his denim. He gently dabbed at her cheeks, mentally reminding himself to be gentle around the scratches.

Karol sighed deeply and glanced down to her lap shamefully. She winced every now and then, the burning sensation on her skin still lingered. "I don't wanna be a little girl anymore, Darry... I want to be like Keith. To be cool."

Darry's expression turned from one of shock to one of empathy. He could already imagine how left out Karol must feel. Her brother always out of the house and getting into all sorts of trouble with his friends, her mother housekeeping constantly and working hard to make ends meet. The Matthews' home could often leave Karol feeling lonely and unwanted.

"And you wandered all the way here... on foot?" he implied, the question sounding surreal to even ask a six-year old.

Karol nodded and watched as Darrel tried his best to finish wiping off the dried up mud from her arms. He was unable to do much about her dress - but what he could do was give her a ride home. He finished tidying her up, setting the towel on the floor beside her feet. He smiled at her warmly, his thumb gently running over her cheek. “Lemme take you home, get you all freshened up with your momma.”

Darrel had a tendency to be good with children, Karol being no different. His instinctive protective nature came in handy in situations like this. He would do so much as to drop everything in terms of his job to tend to Karol’s desperate cries for help.

The car ride home was mostly quiet, the soft music playing as Karol settled herself into the backseat, her head resting against the car door. Darrel pulled up, the car coming to a halt as Keith and their mother swarmed the vehicle in a panic. They were both worried sick - her mother expecting her to return moments after ‘running away’.

Darrel immediately emerged from the car, opening the backseat door and revealing the child to them. Two-Bit was first to sling her into his arms, a powerful hug between the two. He didn’t mind the crumpled clumps of dirt that fell from her body. “Karol - we were so worried about you…” he began, his voice almost a quiver.

Darrel smiled softly, admiring the sight of a little family reunion between the three. He stuffed his hands in his pocket and observed. She was set back down, stepping closer to Darrel in an instant. He crouched down in response and held out his arms for her. Karol obliged and wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, his hands rubbing her back soothingly. “Karol, look at me,” he whispered quietly, only for her ears to hear only.

She leaned in, the expression on her face displaying curiosity. Her undivided attention was on Darrel. “You are the toughest, bravest - coolest gal I know,” his tone was nothing but tender and loving with her. He was already aware of how she felt being babied and portrayed as nothing more than a little girl. He chose his words carefully, “And don’t you ever forget that, you hear? You’re just as cool as your brother… maybe even cooler.”

The wink he added onto those last words sealed Karol’s belief in. She felt a strange sense of newfound confidence within herself. Darrel had done more than just protect her today, more than scaring the boys off before they could harm her more, more than rushing to help assess the damage….

Darrel left her feeling important. She felt noticed for once, her strength revealing itself since the terror inflicted on her today. Karol tightly hugged him, her grasp not loosening a single bit as she prolonged the hug to its fullest.

Her soft voice whispered back, a smile plastering all over her face - the first one in a while, “Thank you, Darry.”

[firefly--bright]

jean kirstein modern headcanons!!!

warnings : none! gender neutral pronouns used, if any.

a/n: HI HELLO I'm so so SO sorry for the late fics. my finals ended like a month ago and oh my god I've just been Going Places™ like my schedule is jam packed with meeting up with people i haven't seen in three months because of the exams :/ I'm working on the requests!!! i promise, i read them and i am working on them. but!!! here are some headacanons to.... make up for the lack of content :3

taglist : @mrsnobodynobody , @holding-ishu-and-a-book

✿ masterlist is in linked in pinned post! ✿ enter my taglist ✿

• he doesnt have a big sweet tooth but he LOVES chocolate like can't live without it. if you're also a chocolate person, he'll buy your fav ones for you and lowkey judges you for it ("why would you like this one???? the one i like is wayyy better you should get those")

• he's most definitely a friend's to lovers type guy. he never really thought he would be, though. he's a hopeless romantic and falls in love with anyone and everyone BUT he's also, as mentioned before, more hopeless than romantic. he'll yearn for the person from a distance, so he doesn't really think that he would go and fall in love with his best friend, of all people. you fall first he falls harder type beat yk?

• he's kind of gives off this confident, cocky and kind of intimidating vibe about him. when you first met him you just knew he thought a little too highly of himself. but after getting to know him, he's super vulnerable and soft and actually tries to be close to you. his intimidating Mr. i-fold-my-arms-over-my-chest-to-show-off-my-biceps persona is just a front, like he thinks being that coccky guy will make people think he's like mysterious or something and want to be his friend/partner

• i have a bi jean agenda actually

• thinks VERY highly of you. asks for your advice on everything even if you might not be good at giving it, hed want to know what you, specifically, think

• he's an architecture major :D i know alot of people have diff headcanons of him doing pol-sci/law (which are all valid tbh i agree with those hcs) but!!! i think he chose architecture because he has the right amount of passion for it. it's the closest thing to art he can have. he loves art but he's also aware that it doesn't...pay well, neither does he want to loose his passion for art. hes heard one too many stories of people choosing art and regretting it because their passion for art is no longer just a passion. Jean's scared he'd lose his love for it.

• isn't really used to physical touch, and if you're a touchy feely person, he's a little surprised when you hold him for the first time. he quickly grows into loving your touch tho and initiates cuddles :)

• hes kinda super smart. like he scores really well in class and always has. not only that, but he's gifted athletically as well

• he's more of a listener than a talker, i think. hed initiate conversation, ask you about you day and let you take away the conversation. doesn't really mind if it's "all about you", but if you ask him about anything, he'd gladly talk.

• hes actually SO shy when it comes to actually doing relationshippy things. the first time you held hands as a couple and not just friends, he had a nervous breakdown. he couldn't even look you in the eyes when he asked you out on a date, even if it was just a casual movie night at home

• he's very organized, surprisingly. he's not a clean freak but he just likes knowing where things are. rarely rearranges anything because it not only frustrates the hell out of him, he'd also have to get used to the new arrangements.

• he has a fixed skincare routine!!! he had acne as a teenager so he started taking skincare more seriously. knows a lot about different products, and if you don't have a fixed skincare routine, he'd tell you to have one. if you have super sensetive skin (like me) and can't handle anytjing other than basic face wash, he'd remind you to wash your face every night.

• he also is protective of his hair!!! he used to have dyed hair, but it didn't go well. he TRIED to bleach his hair but failed and half of his hair came out :')) he never dyes his hair anymore but he does freshen up his mullet every now and then. doesn't let anyone but his mom and you touch his hair.

• asks you if you can help him with oiling his hair because he saw one of those tiktoks saying they work really well. if you're anything like me and are used to oiling your hair every week, you'd massage his hair and his eyes close and his entire body relaxes the moment your hands weave through his hair <3

• LOVES showing you off. either in little ways (by swinging your hands together while walking) or by literally making his entire Instagram page about you. all of his six posts (he rarely posts, but whenever he does it's all about you) have you in them. the cheesiest captions, too. if that wasn't enough, he'd have (y/n)'s with your fav colour heart emoji next to your name in his bio to let literally everyone know who he's with.

• he actually loves to cook!!!! as said before, he'd very organized, so i feel like he'd also be into meal prepping. he watched those aesthetically pleasing videos of people rearranging their fridges with ungodly amounts of plastic cabinets. his own fridge is sort of a mess becahse he doesn't know what goes where :') but he does meal prep, and sometimes even packs you lunches with lil notes

• speaking of notes, he's not really good at talking about his love for you. like he'd show it in so many ways but he can't say it out loud. not only does he get uncharacteristically shy, he's always had issues with saying the words "i love you" out loud, so he either writes about it or draws you <3 you'd find random notes and letters written to you, sometimes with just. a cheesy joke, sometimes he actually Tries and writes a whole letter for you pouring out all the things he can't say out loud.

• the start of your friendship, you two bicker alot. it's clear you care about each other, but he loves teasing you because he knows you'll shoot back.

• he wears really thin eyeliner on special occasions <3 he doesn't like bold looks, but he does like how subtly the eyeliner makes his eyes look different. if yiure good at makeup, he'd ask you to help him.

• has a plethora of diff hats tbh like he collects them like an addiction. he has a fedora and beanies and bucket hats and normal embroidered hats. he has so many it's concerning

• he's very good at driving. when the two of you started getting closer, he'd ask you on long late night drives, either for take-out or just to listen to music and talk. he enjoys your company while driving. if you usually have motion sickness in cars, you will never feel nauseous in his car. he drives very smoothly, not too fast and not too slow. he's kind of a perfectionist (not extremely) and literally screams at Connie to slow down when he goes even a little over the speed limit. he drives the whole time in every road trip.

• his fav dessert is cheesecake. his unpopular opinion is that they're the perfect ratio of sweet and savoury, crunchy and soft.

• hes one of those people to fall asleep anywhere and everywhere. on the couch, at the table, no matter how loud it is or how bright it is. he's a light sleeper and also a snorer. if you're cuddling together, he'd either lay on top of you or wraps not one but both of his arms around you. one under your neck to provide a nice neck cushion, and one draped over your stomach.

• he runs warm, which is both a blessing and a cruse. in summers, even if he'd want to cuddle with you, you feel the need to get as far away as him because he's just so warm. you'd wake up in your own sweat if you do decide to take the risk and let him cuddle you. in winters though, his warmth is very welcome.

• loves it when you hug his arm while walking. if you're tired and kind of lean into him, expect him to eat that shit UP because he loves your warmth as much as you love his. loves it when you lean into him or hug his bicep. even flexes his muscles for effect (you definitely tease him for that)

• is not a fan of thunderstorms, he kind of has bad memories. either from being left out while the ither kids play in the rain, either from the rumbling and the scary sound that comes with thunders that resembles the sound of his angry father or its just how inconvenient it is.

• his dad wasn't really in his life that much, always away on business. every time he would come home, he'd srot of criticize jean's hobbies :( his mom eventually seperated from Jean's father and started her own bakery, hence Jean's love for chocolates.

• he panics very hard when you feel sick. he jumps right into his mama bird genes and makes you a soup from either his mother's recipie or he'd call your mother and ask her for her own sick day recipies. he'd feed it to you and refuse to leave you alone until you've had your meds.

• he loves kissing your forearm for some reason. you loop your hands around his neck after kissing him, so it's the closest to his mouth. he turns his head slightly, closing his eyes as he pecks your forearm :3 it's kinda a weird spot to like kissing, but it's really endearing when it comes from him.

• he has a couple small tattoos here and there. two of the five he has have actual meaning whereas the other three are just for fun

• he wants whatever you want. if you want children in the future, he'd be there with you. if you want nothing but a large house and a couple pets, he'd love to make your dream come true. he's passionate and extremely good at what he does, and he takes pride in it.

✿

[whoreforhorror]

hello! t’was i! the previous anon who requested billy x obsessed reader, back again :))

so if it’s not too much trouble 🤭, billy / stu x fem!reader (or gn) who’s like. super shy? kind of blend’s in with their dark hair and etc so often scared billy and stu when they just find them laying around somewhere, reading or smth ::3

if you can’t do it dw!! if u can, thank you!!!!!!! 🫶

This took so long for me to sit down and write, and I am so so SO sorry for that. I really like this prompt, and thank you for requesting again! I hate to make you late that long and I hope I didn’t make you think I didn’t want to write for you. Also, hope you like it!

Poly! Billy Loomis and Stu Macher with a shy S/O who’s quiet and blends into the environment

Billy and Stu didn’t even know who you were until there was a group project assigned in a class the three of you shared. Groups of three had to make a presentation based on a book, and you were the only person left to pick when the boys needed another group member.

In the back of their minds, they were just a little shocked they hadn’t seen you or heard anything about you until this point. Between the both of them, they figured they’d talked to everyone at least once. You seemed to prove them wrong.

Billy made the executive decision to do a project based on Carrie by Steven King because they’d already seen the movie and how different could it really be? Stu invited you to his place to work on the project with him and Billy, and from that point on they never left you alone.

Stu LOVES pointing you out randomly to bring attention to you, partially because he genuinely thinks you could be friends with a lot of people if you’d let them notice you and also because he likes seeing you get flustered when everyone’s attention is suddenly on you.

Billy won’t admit it but he really likes that you’re quiet because that means he can occupy more of your attention and be closer to you than he might normally be. He also thinks it’s funny to see you get flustered when Stu brings attention to you but will ultimately defend you if he deems that Stu is dragging it out too long.

As you start to hang around the boys more, they start to become aware of how unintentionally silent you can be. You can lay on Stu’s couch, reading while the two are off in another room and you’ll scare the absolute shit out of the two when they come back to the living room and you suddenly chime into the conversation. That, or, one of them will go to the garage to get more beer and you’ll come out to ask them a question, only to startle them and cause them to drop the bottles. They’ve started keeping score of who gets scared by you more often. (It’s Stu, by a lot.)

They’ll both joke about attaching a bell to you to let them know where you are. As your relationship progresses, it starts to become… less of a joke. The boys talk it over and decide to buy you a choker with a little bell on it like a cat’s collar. You best believe they’ll make you wear it every moment the three of you are in private. Wear it in public and the boys will get both very happy that their mild obsession with you seems to be reciprocated and very, VERY teasing. 

Stu and Billy are watching a movie alone one night when Stu turns to Billy and asks “What if they joined us? Like, as Ghostface?”Billy is ready to shoot the idea down but thinks back to every time you’ve been able to get the jump on the two of them. Even as observant as Billy was, he would often forget you were sitting or laying down somewhere. You blended into your surrounding and didn’t draw any attention to yourself. You knew how to be invisible.

They’d think about it for a loooong time. They need to know with 100% certainty that you’ll accept before they even think of proposing the idea to you and revealing their attachment to the Woodsboro murders.

When they do tell you and you do accept, they wonder how they had done it without you before. You were absolutely perfect for stalking their next victim and breaking into their house to let the boys in. They still did most of the real dirty work but would hand a kill to you every now and again to see you in real action.

It also becomes a bit of entertainment for you to see if you can startle them while on the hunt. Is it a bad idea? Maybe. Could you get stabbed because they’re ready to kill and you’re aiming to scare them? Probably. Do you really care? Not at all. The boys hate it every time but still get a laugh out of it, presuming it’s not actually putting them or the kill at risk.

For Billy, your being able to sneak up on him both in and out of Ghostface attire gives him a reason to improve. It gives him something to be better at. He sees it as a weakness that he needs to fix before someone else finds out and takes advantage of it.

For Stu, he sees it as a source of pride more than anything. Look at his partner, able to sneak up on the terrors of Woodsboro without even having to try. His precious darling is so amazing and skilled and awesome!

[soracities]

Your account is absolutely wonderful.. I am assuming that it takes a lot of time and dedication to absorb so much art... I find myself drifting away, always exhausted from my job... So I guess my question is what do you do for work and how do you stay inspired?

most of my time is spent child-minding and while that has left me with very little time to read and watch the things i want--and can be quite exhausting in and of itself--i think there is a little trade-off in that children keep you attentive to the world around you in a way you would not otherwise be, if only because you have to be that attentive to answer all their countless questions. so in a sense there is some inspiration i glean from that.

otherwise, i think this blog sometimes does give off the impression that i'm more well-read than i actually am; in reality, i dance on the surface of a lot of artworks but am passionate about maybe a tiny handful of works, and maybe, like, two painters. i have a "to watch" list that far exceeds my lifespan given that i actually watch, maybe, 3 movies a year. i have finished one (short) book since 2023 started and it took me six months to read that. the books that i've managed to read over the years, i've read chiefly in bursts and almost always in time periods where i was lucky enough in that i didn't have much to occupy me; even then, i'm aware i didn't read as much as i could have done with the time i had, but i'm also the kind of person who cannot devour book after book endlessly, either--i have a very clear saturation point, after which i need to do something different.

i think this blog, more than anything else, is a kind of repository of all the little fragments of thoughts or books or the world that interest and catch me and that i want to keep, but what i actually spend time with and dive into makes up an absolutely miniscule fraction of that. there have been long months (and years) where i did not have it in me to maintain any kind of sustained attention to reading or poetry, but i think the ability to do so is a huge, often unacknowledged, priviliege that requires not just time and economic security, but also mental clarity. i'm saying this to stress that what you feel, especially with whatever demands your job makes on you, is entirely normal and not anything to be ashamed of: the toll bills take, that laundry takes, that cooking and cleaning and countless other errands take are not to be underestimated when you go into them already sapped of most of your reserves in the first place.

it's something i've felt quite often (and still do); carving out the time to read as much or as often as i would like to does require dedication which i do not always have the energy for. but i think for me, to answer your question regarding inspiration, especially during the times when i'm not reading anything, inspiration is in paying as much attention as i can to the world around me, no matter how tiny the details are. there's a quote by william stafford where he talks about the ability to have "one vivid morning" and then "chain myself to it for fifty years". i don't have any set "philosophy" on life, but that is one thing i have always lived by: i still remember a single razor of light i saw on the railway tracks one morning a year ago which caught me by surprise, or the time on the bus when the setting sun filled the top deck and i knew then by the colour of it that summer was coming, or when i got up close to a patch of damp moss to see all its tiny little hairs more clearly, or one afternoon five years or so ago when i bought some loose pears from a corner shop and they were the sweetest, most-melt-in-the-mouth-juiciest pears i'd ever had....i can obsess over the light through a window over and over and over again no matter how often i see it. my mother put some lilies in a vase in the living room a few weeks ago and the entire time i was enraptured with how the scent hit me everytime i'd come into that room. even after more than a week they still enraptured me; each time was like i discovered them all over again and that brightened my mood so immeasurably.

for me inspiration is chiefly about recognizing the things that bring me joy and then holding them as closely as i can. there's a game i've started playing if i'm on a long bus trip where i take the number of a random bus stop i pass and if it's lower than 2020 i google what events happened in that year and pick the one that interests me most: if i'm going to be on my phone anyway, i will be on it in a way that aligns with what i already enjoy (FACTS!) and won't drain me (social media). when i don't have the energy to finish or even pick up a book, i'm subscribed to sites like Aeon, Ordinary Plots, Diaries of Note, or grieftolight on instagram (shoutout to forever beloved @firstfullmoon doing the lord's work with that account, truly), or podcasts i like, which allow me to read or experience little bits and pieces here and there without the pressure or anxiety-inducing commitment. if there is a poem i love i try to spend as much time with it as i can, which often just takes the form of me writing it down (by hand, usually-- that part is important) into a ledger of poems i keep which i can return to whenever i want, underlining my favourite parts or just rereading what spoke to me (i also love going to exhibits or museums (which, luckily, are mostly free where i live) or taking note of all the random bits of street art i see)

a year or so ago i also started, and this has changed my life, to copy down some of my favourite quotes i've reblogged onto little cue cards and stick them on the wall by my bed. some are poems, some are bits of novels or scraps of philosophy, some are motivational tidbits, but all of them are things i want to be reminded of. it helps me remember the lines i most want to keep and also grounds me in an odd way, but more than that, it just makes me happy. if i'm doom-scrolling, or having a rough evening, i can turn to that wall and read the things that mean most to me.

i don't know if any of this helps, and i'm conscious of not putting these out there as a cure-all because i'm very aware of how quickly, and how easily, this society and its set-up can drain you. i am, though, a staunch proponent of approaching art (any kind) and your engagement with it from a place and a pace that is true to you, before anything else, and that includes taking into account your own circumstances and what would bring you the most enjoyment within the means you have available to you: sometimes that's a 20 minute radio interview about blackholes, sometimes it's counting how many birds you pass as you walk through the park, sometimes it's 150 page novella it takes you half a year to finish. whatever it may look like, center your own pleasure first. i hope this can give you something, anon ♡

[mothswritingeye]

So I have prophetic dreams. The way they go is I have a dream as a little kid and think nothing of it, and then have that same dream years later and realize “wait, that dream that I first had several years ago references a thing that only came out recently”. The dreams are mostly nonsense, but they do reference characters/locations/people that I only learned about recently.

Three examples of said dreams to prove that I’m not just making stuff up:

1: I end up in a copy of my old middle school that has a game like super smash bros ultimate, and I have to fight master hand (although the game is wrongly referred to as super smash bros brawl). I first had this dream before I went to middle school, before I met a teacher featured in the dream, before I knew the super smash bros franchise existed, before I knew of characters featured in that game (hero and master hand), before super smash bros was even revealed, and possibly before super smash bros brawl came out, although I’m not sure on that last part as I’ve never played that game before.

2: The five dragonets from the wings of fire series discovering a different continent and meeting a dragon named Rappa. I first had this dream before I knew about the wings of fire series, before they decided to introduce a second then-unknown continent, and before a character from an unrelated video game Honkai star rail was revealed named Rappa. Honkai star rail also didn’t exist back then, maybe not even Honkai impact third, and I didn’t know about Mihoyo or their other games.

3: I have to go to an alternate dimension to occupy members of the president’s security’s bodies to get him to a specific location. When I first had this dream, Obama was president, and I thought my brain had just made up a president. The president featured in my dream was Joe Biden, who I didn’t know existed when I first had this dream. We have to go through a high school in the quest to occupy the security’s bodies, and two students look significantly like Janis and Damien from the original mean girls movie, which I’ve never watched and didn’t know existed until recently. After a certain point, the president and a non-descript friend that’s helping me with this plot is depicted as a stick figure, specifically the one from animator v animation, which is a series I have never watched and have only seen one screenshot of very recently. When we first start occupying the security’s bodies, I’m holding a water for elephants plushie that was only produced for the recent musical, that only debuted earlier this year, that I saw less then two weeks ago and that I brought. (Proof I brought the plushie below). I also didn’t know about the book or movie until I saw the musical very recently. The members of the security team whose bodies me and the friend inhabit are also characters from dragon ball, an anime/manga that I didn’t know about until a few years ago, after I had the dream, and I’ve never watched or read dragon ball. (I think the characters are vegeta and goku, but I really wouldn’t know).

Proof I have the water for elephants plushie:

So you might be wondering, why exactly am I telling you this? Well, recently I had a dream about Angel and Husk from Hazbin hotel that I first had several years ago, and there was a specific shot that I believe may end up in a song in season two, as well as being confirmation (we could guess this, but still) that Husk is getting a love song with Angel.

(The text says:

they fall from reality

Husk is singing

He rows right

Note: Body swapping hijinks?)

(I would also like to advise you to take the body swapping stuff with an ENTIRE PITCHER of salt. I think that has a less then one percent chance of actually getting in the show)

I’m aware that only I have tangible proof that these dreams are prophetic, but I want to post this now so if the shot ends up in the actual episode I can say ‘I told you so’ and hopefully use this post as proof I have prophetic dreams.

[fictionfixations]

Kalim in RSA (and I get off-topic)

Spoilers for Book 4 and 5 (im sorry jamil enjoyers. but im so biased towards kalim its not even funny)

(this spiraled into me talking all about kalim in the actual game so oops)

imagine how different the story would be if kalim was in RSA

and we just hear from jamil about these snippets about his 'master' (although itd be weird they'd be separated if jamil tended to him often to where he'd prob be like his personal servant? idk what situation would have jamil talk to us anyway but yknow maybe we get close, he's like the other friend who seems cool? he'll basically help us out with knowledge about things, fleshing out the world a bit more, as the only sophomore in the group cause he kind of feels responsible maybe? then BETRAYAL)

and then eventually partway through the school year KALIM IS THERE (we know why though) and he somehow ends up housewarden.

i have a dislike against RSA. its very petty and its kind of because they keep winning (and they dont even mean ill intent which is worse! …but its kind of like kalims kindness. and i like kalim but that might make me biased. SO. thus the existence of this.)

we probably wouldnt like him much right? (and i imagine he'd get his fair share of bullies. we find this out. he laughs it off like 'nah, im used to attempted assassinations and everything. this isnt nearly as bad.')

(id do the clapping between but ppl get annoyed, and i get annoyed) CUE KALIM BEING MORE THAN SMILES AND WE LEARN THAT ABOUT HIM !!

HES aware enough that he can cook food good using JUST magic (which takes precision to use it as good or even better than your hands right??. its in his labwear vignette. ruggies teaching him ofc so ruggie wants it to be good cause hes taking leftovers, BUT CMOONNN he can learn. ..and yeah it took a few years for jamil to teach kalim antidotes to common poisons so he could do it easy but kalims hardly a master at making potions so i call that good)

AND in book 5 he noticed vil had like the same look as jamil to where he knew something was going to go wrong (aka the poisoning)

maybe its to show how much kalim doesnt belong in NRC and thats why they dont pull the 'more than he looks at first glance' like cater with glimpses in vignettes and etc

but like COME ON.

the sultan might be dumb (i recently re-watched aladdin) but at least he knew enough that he didnt want jafar marrying his daughter cause hes OLD and also he doesnt want to force jasmine into anything (good intentions. im sure if they just waited and she didnt find a suitor in time he would've just CHANGED THE LAW like he did IN THE MOVIE because he wants her to be happy!)

ALSo he tried to look through the law jafar claimed to say that would make her have to be married to the vizier or whatever (aka jafar) but then jafar just pulled it away before he could (and then attempted to mind control him when he refused) mans was prepared to spend hours reading over it even if he didnt understand it but he wasnt given the chance

also kalim is worryingly nonchalant about stuff. i mean. you can get used to horrible things to where they just feel so normal and uninmportant i guess? but poor bby. hes been like 'i want to keep myself alive because if i die then someone else will get punished.' or like about poisoning, if someone has a change of mind and hes already dead, then he cant do something to help them, so he has to make sure he'll live.

..i really doubt that hes just. so oblivious. maybe in denial, but still.

anyway i got very off topic. my bad. and to be fair we do get to see more of him at some parts. but hhh

okay listen. denial. (i am also a believer that if when kalim confronted jamil, if he said he didnt do anything kalim wouldve believed him. bruh gave him excuses like '..i just got tired, right?')

"The real Jamil would never do such things! He's a good guy. He's always helping me, giving me a shoulder to lean on, and—" (Book 4 • Chapter 33)

we just. dont see him really crumble?? he just. keeps being optimistic

we convince him jamil is bad. he resolves to punch him for being a traitor and THATS IT?

he sobs at the end of jamils overblot but then he goes back to being optimistic like 'lets be equals!' (..it feels like he didnt really learn much though as he's still 'I didn't notice--' 'I--' and i wish he couldve gotten more awareness. cause he makes it about himself yknow and blaming himself but COME ON put some blame on jamil PLEASE? or like. ANYONE ELSE. you also cant notice shit if no one ever tells you about it that you dont even know to look for it! he doesnt want to be cautious about who he can trust so like, why would he think to doubt the person who hes known his entire life??? especially if its something that was just always there that it feels natural, how could he know better? hes sheltered! so someone shouldve explained it to him, made him realize things! aghhh)

heres the book 5 one btw

"I got a real bad feeling when I saw the look on your face after Neige's rehearsal. It was practically the same look I saw on Jamil's face when he lost control of himself over holiday break." (Book 5 • Chapter 62)

And I mean maybe he did learn in that he's more aware of this now than others because he knows what people could look like because of Jamil, but I feel like a lot of things were just so unsaid. That the first time blindsided him, but now he's kind of a little more worried about something happening while he's there that he didn't notice so now he's trying to notice things more??? Or like maybe having gut feelings that he'd ignored before because it was Jamil but now knowing better?

So he can be aware. but then the rest of the time he's just thought of as dumb or an idiot or forgetful and it just makes me sad. and i mean i get that he wants to see the best in people but we never really talk about how its more that its denial. a refusal to see it, and i want to understand why

or maybe its because he sees the good in people that he trusts they'll do the right thing. or he believes that the good outweigh the bad (although i dont know if it'd be the same case if it was someone he knew who got hurt)

like. okay back in book 5

"Besides, I would bet there isn't a single person in Scarabia who hasn't gotten help from Jamil at some point. Am I right?"

"See? There you go. He's been a model vice housewarden. In fact, he's put me to shame. He let dark thoughts get the better of him for a brief time. Other than that, he's a perfectly capable guy." (Book 5 • Chapter 10)

He justifies it with that Jamil isn't the only one to blame (he also blames himself), and that Jamil hadn't done anything wrong before then

which. AGAIn. means that in his eyes the good outweigh the bad. jamils better at his duties so jamil should stay as vice housewarden.

this was the first time jamil did anything bad so it'd be fine, it was just an error in judgment

AGHHh

nothing about the fact that his closest friend he views as a brother

"He's grown up with Jamil since a young age, and considers him a brother in all but blood." (from the In-game Album)

who would be the last person he'd expect to do such a thing BETRAYS HIM, planning to make everyone (or well just the people in scarabia) turn against him

like. that has to be a shock right??? AND THEN HE JUST. welcomes him back into his life like it was nothing im just. kALIM. SWEETIE.

and i mean i get its for the best since if anyone knew what actually happened anything could happen to jamil (and jamil has his own reasons i get that but this is about kalim)

but he still hangs around him. has him as his aide. so while something did change, it also feels like nothing changed at the same time.

"I'm always chosen. Always. That's such an obvious truth that I never even consciously processed it. But now I see that was only possible because of Jamil's constant sacrifices. He created that "truth" in my mind by always holding back. By always letting me win. ...It stings. "Galling" doesn't even begin to describe it." (Book 5 • Chapter 30)

also like one of the very few times he expresses how he feels about something (how it hurts not to be chosen for the first time, and/or that he was only chosen because of someone else so he wants to work hard)

and then grim shuts him down with "You wanna talk about galling? Imagine how I feel not even makin' the cut for the audition to start with."

like. COME ON.

Kalim responds with, "Ah, you're right. My bad! I didn't mean to rub it in. Goodness, there I go again! I'm super sorry, honest."

and yeah it can seem kind of spoiled but also. its probably because of that that he doesnt want to share his troubles because he's very privileged so it feels like he might not deserve to act like its anything when everyone else has to work so much harder, right?

AND ITS JUST. REAFFIRMING TO HIM THAT his troubles are nothing compared to anyone elses and im just aghhauihduadhw

he also cares a lot about other people (people like him as housewarden because he listens to their troubles and supports them) so i just. want him to be able to take a moment to care about himself and just admit these things that he usually doesnt get the chance to.

i got a lot more worked up than i meant to

[sawyerconfort]

enjoy the silence | lorraine broughton x fem! reader

I am back! Finally, I hope you didn't mind my disappearance. I decided to take a little break from the stories because I felt like I really needed to rest, and I was running out of creativity. I also went traveling this weekend and didn't have time to write as I had planned, but anyway, I'm back and that's what matters!

As I said in the previous post, I will be focusing this week on writing multifandom oneshots, and maybe an ask or two will be answered over the weekend, so those of you who sent in asks, please be patient with me, as always!

Well, taking into account the lack of stories about her, and taking into account that in the last few weeks I gained a boost of obsession with Charlize Theron, let's do a oneshot with Lorraine!

This is fem!reader, but if you feel comfortable adjusting your pronouns in it as you read, feel free!

Enjoy!

Requests open!

*Atomic Blonde is such a badass movie, oh gosh, I can't!*

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

Premise: As you tend to Lorraine's wounds, some things become crystal clear between you. Things that had apparently been kept secret for a long time…

***

You were used to being alone after all the other male members left. It was your most precious moment of peace, when none of them were making fun of you or making sexual comments about you. It was the only time, as one of the top MI6 officials, when you could be silent, focusing on things other than missions, The List or anything else that risked your life.

Turns out that night, it was different. You were concentrating on an electrifying chapter of your science fiction book, when you heard the door slamming loudly. A low, whispered curse and you turned, taking the book out of your eyes to look at who it was.

The thing is, you never took the time to talk to her personally and properly. Lorraine Broughton was one of MI6's most gifted and well-known spies, and newcomers joked that she had been with them since their beginnings in the Stone Age.

Someone of extreme importance like Lorraine apparently didn't have time to listen to your bullshit.

Your eyes met and she took off the black collar that covered her mouth, her platinum hair giving extreme emphasis to her scarred face.

"Good evening, agent (Y\LN), I thought there was no one here."

Hell, she knew your last name! How was that possible?

"I was just leaving, Lorraine, don't worry," you said, trying to sound at least reasonable so as not to cause a fuss with her. But then, as soon as you got up, you noticed her ripped pants, a hideous trickle of blood running down one part of her leg, and her face streaked with red streaks and very swollen.

She looked back at you, the weight of those pale eyes taking over you, and then, your voice was categorical, hoping she wasn't going to dump your ass, not this time.

"Need some help tending to those wounds? They look pretty bad…"

She looked at you, and with the same restful face, she shook her head. "Don't waste your time, I'm fine. It happens all the time."

"Lorraine, your leg is bleeding. We better look into this."

"Don't worry, (Y\N), go home, I can take care of myself."

You chuckled, already being aware of her stubbornness. Lorraine was good when she wanted to outsmart someone in an interrogation, especially the guys in the company, but you weren't interrogating her this time, so she didn't have to act so defensive.

Deciding not to let her go without tending to her wounds, you hurried out and opened one of the cupboards in the cold, dark corridor of the office. The sound of the creaking door obviously got Lorraine's attention because everything was extremely loud in that dark office. Grabbing a first-aid kit, which was only used in emergencies by high-ranking men, you pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit down.

"I already told you I'm fine, (Y\N), I can take ca-"

"Sit down, please." You didn't mean to sound domineering, but it was unavoidable.

Lorraine rolled her eyes and sat up, legs spread, not intending to cross them. She wasn't going to make the job easy for you, but of course it wasn't a problem anymore. You opened the first aid kit and took out some gauze, cotton and bandages.

"Please, let's not turn this whole thing into a moment of silence, if you want, tell me how you managed the feat of getting all screwed up…", you said, gently swiping the cotton wool over her eyes and lips. , cleaning the blood.

Lorraine gasped and pressed her lips together, feeling the pain of the contact. "Are you sure you work for a spy team, (Y\N)?" You rolled your eyes as she took a deep breath. "It was a chase. Several guys shooting. One of them threw me on the glass table and I ended up cutting myself… not new to me, really."

You continued to gently dab cotton and gauze over the bruises, and her clear, intimidating eyes never left her face as you did so. It was even uncomfortable to look at, such beauty, staring back at you as if it were something normal.

"And how are the guys doing?" you asked curiously, determined to keep her distracted - and to keep you distracted too.

"Dead, I guess. It's not news to me either, they would keep chasing me if they lived and I needed to get rid of them to save my skin…"

You nodded, at the same time that you bent down to get some ointment from the first aid kit and began to run your fingers along Lorraine's injured leg, the blood still very fresh where the glass had probably been stuck. She's lucky she didn't hemorrhage, you thought absently.

"Is that really necessary?!", Lorraine exclaimed, pulling you out of her thoughts, her voice very firm and a hiss of discomfort escaping her lips.

"Unless you want to catch a bacteria, maybe," you replied in the same tone. She laughed and rolled her eyes.

"Okay, okay, you call the shots," she snapped. "Look, it's actually really weird that we've never crossed paths, (Y\N), you seem to know what you're doing."

You nodded, getting up, closing the ointment and putting it back in the first aid kit, as you sat on the edge of Lorraine's chair, her legs keeping your body steady.

"It's hard to come across an agent that the boys keep like a precious jewel inside a password safe…"

She laughed again, and only then did you stop to notice that her smile was beautiful. Your heart missed a beat, but you didn't know if it was envy or some much deeper feeling… And before you knew it, you pushed those thoughts away, afraid of the answer.

Whatever the case, Lorraine Broughton was not the type of person you thought was ideal for the type of person you were. Not as friendship. You could only support yourself within the walls of offices, and despite being called an agent, you were afraid to even fly a plane.

"Is it over yet?", she woke you up from your thoughts again, looking at you with a playful smile. "Yeah, it wasn't so bad after all."

"Yeah, but that's because the bad part starts now!", you said, holding the bandages, which were those children's animal bandages. "You can choose between the giraffe bandages, or the flower bandages, you call the shots, Lorraine."

The smile faltered on your lips as she frowned, clearly confused and uncomfortable, not sure if it was a joke or not.

"Seriously?" she said in disbelief. "Who let the guys buy this?"

You shrugged. "Make a choice, Lorraine."

"I'd rather go without bandages."

"Ah, come on! You're going to make a childhood dream come true! Your inner child is crying out for it, go ahead, choose one!"

"Okay, the giraffe one then.", Lorraine said, in a monotone voice, as if she knew she would regret it the moment she left the office and walked down the street. You laughed, calmly sticking the bandages on her wounds and caressing the skin with your fingers, to fix them better.

That took Lorraine by surprise. Until then, she hadn't known that she could feel that same electricity from a simple touch. She looked back at you, and allowed herself to relax as you finished gluing them all together. At the end, you noticed her look and bit your lip, also caught off guard, completely embarrassed.

"You're free, Lorraine. Now you can even take off the bandages while I'm not looking, I know you're going to do that…", you said, joking, just to ease the tension. But it didn't help much.

Her eyes were too bright in the dim light, and that perfect, even bruised face that looked as if it had been sculpted by angels only made it worse. You were extremely tense and nervous around her, and not in your best dreams, did you imagine that you would feel this way with Lorraine, when you saw her.

"Thank you, (Y\N). And I'm sorry, I think I've been quite rude to you in the meantime, you just wanted to help me get better."

"I don't mind, I'm used to agents' patience…", you laughed again. And he got up, going to put the suitcase back in the closet and close it properly, so that none of the others would notice that you had even touched it.

Lorraine was still staring at you when you looked back at her, and a smile graced her interested expression.

"How long have you been working with us, (Y\N)?", she asked, her deep voice dropping to almost a whisper in the silence between you.

You stopped to think, to remember, to count on your fingers, as you went back and sat in the small space of her chair, as before. Not to tease her, it's just because that was her usual chair and you had this habit of taking possession of things.

"A few months. Five, I think… I'm not good with numbers and dates…", you explained, laughing. Lorraine nodded. "Before you ask, this definitely wasn't the plan since I was a kid, but it seemed to me that I had a knack for it when I had my first experience here, so… yeah, maybe it was nice to get this job."

Lorraine nodded again. "And are you happy here?"

"I think so. I'm sure I do, actually. I don't think I fit in anywhere else right now, honestly."

"That's good, this work is not very easy, there are few people who manage, in the natural order of things, to stay for so long."

Lorraine was still looking at you, and nervousness was still very much present in her body language as she did so.

"And do you have… a boyfriend, (Y\N)?"

You frowned, caught off guard.

"Sorry, that was a weird question."

"No, I don't have a boyfriend", you replied, shaking your head. "It wasn't a weird question, you're just trying to get to know me better…"

Lorraine nodded again, scratching her forehead and looking at you, intent on knowing more. "And are you looking for someone? Or are you completely focused on work right now?"

"Ah, MI6 is my life, yes, but I wouldn't mind breaking that routine to find someone I can share my days with, you know…"

Lorraine looked away, and oddly enough, you noticed that there was a flush in her cheeks. Now, that was something you would never have thought to see, not in Lorraine Broughton.

"You say "someone", so… is someone really someone?"

"Are you asking me about my sexuality?"

Lorraine shrugged. "You don't have to answer that if you don't want to."

"No, I don't have a problem with that, I… I'm open to experimenting, actually. I want something that takes me off my feet, and makes me see whether or not it's worth risking everything."

Lorraine nodded again and her eyes glued to your lips. The tension became even more palpable between you, and when she took the opportunity that you were close to pull you close, seeing that you were going to fall out of the chair if you went any farther back, her inner will spoke louder and she kissed you, absolutely nothing, without expecting you to respond.

If it was someone else, you would have walked away and slapped that person across the face, but that didn't happen with Lorraine. You were so surprised when she kissed you that you just responded. She thought maybe that would ease the tension of the moment, that it would make it easier for you to talk, and she was so beautiful it was impossible to resist.

She was the one who pulled away first, gasping for air, and she opened her clear, beautiful eyes to look at you, her hand hesitating between your hip and your leg.

"Sorry, I really don't know why I did that, I…" she started, but you cut her off, your index finger on her wet lips.

"No, that's fine, I enjoyed it… and actually… I think I'd like to do it again, if you don't mind…"

She laughed and kissed you again, this time letting the moment flow by itself, last as long as it should. You were being drawn, like magnets, to each other's lips, and now it was impossible to break the contact. Lorraine's charm didn't help either, and she ended the kiss after a few seconds with a peck on your cheek.

"Well, I better get going now that you don't need me…" you said, feeling all awkward and embarrassed. Lorraine got up and let go of your hips, and just as you were about to walk through the door, she called out her name.

"Don't you want a ride home, (Y\N)? I think it's too late for us to walk alone…", her voice was full of ulterior motives, and as much as you would love to take things easy, have the chance of a lifetime with Lorraine Broughton made you want to find out where this was going to go.

To be honest, you were under the impression that you wouldn't regret it.

[thetinyadventurer]

Thought that made me sit straight up in bed and say “God damn!”: I first saw the trailer for Disney’s Atlantis: The Lost Empire on a VHS tape of the movie Dinosaur. The next year, my parents bought our first ever dvd player and Atlantis was the first dvd we ever got. This was like in 2001/2002. The beginning of a new century and technology was already advancing at a rapid pace… Now we have streaming and such and, damn, do I feel old!

I also think it’s cool that they released Atlantis at the beginning of a new century while the movie took place in the previous century (1914). And it just blows my mind to realize how much of an influence this film had on me: This is the film that introduced me to my love for history (specifically the early 1900’s). Helga Sinclair’s little flip back onto the hot air balloon inspired me to try out gymnastics. Yes, with some help, I actually used to be able to do that on the bars.

Also, Milo-freaking-Thatch! This guy gave me hope in a time in my life where I was a scared and confused little kid. I just remember tiny me going into the first grade the previous year: Brand new school, I was grieving the loss of my cat/dealing with my first experience with death and on top of it all, was aware for the first time in my life that I was VERY different from other children my age. I didn’t get formally diagnosed with ADHD until a few years later but even as a child I knew I didn’t fit in at all. I liked things other kids didn’t, was extremely socially inept and god did I read a lot of books! Anyway, here I am, a neurodivergent little girl who felt excluded and isolated from the other kids and here comes this skinny, kind, brave goofball of a guy with an ancient journal and a dream to find the lost city of Atlantis! Here is Milo James Thatch struggling to fit in with the rest of the group and, at times, getting left out just like me! Here is a guy who’s trying his best to help and making mistakes along the way just like I was! And in the end he finds friends, his dream comes true and he becomes brave! And that was SO COOL as a child to have a character out there that shared similar struggles! He helped me not to feel so alone and I’ll always be grateful for that. Oh, and most of all he taught me to stand up and do the right thing.

Also I HAVE to give a nod to Kida and Helga. Kida influenced me to be kinder to people as a child. She befriended Milo, listened to what he had to say and they learned so much from each other. Kida taught me what it means to be a good friend to someone.

Besides inspiring me to try out for gymnastics, Helga made me want to be stronger. She made me want to stand up for myself. Also, as a little girl, I thought it was so cool to see a lady be out there with the guys, kicking butt and taking names. In an era where a lot of young boys told me “Oh, you can’t do that because you’re a girl!”, Helga helped me to grin and say: “Oh yeah? Just watch!”.

As an adult she actually helped me in a way I didn’t expect. As an adult, Helga REALLY made me think. In an odd way, I guess she’s an example of what happens when you go with the flow of things; When you stay silent in a situation and go along with it, even if you know deep down that it’s wrong. That there are consequences to every action you take and yes, standing by and doing nothing is also a choice. Also, be careful who you give your loyalty to; That you can give absolutely everything to somebody but that they might not be willing to do the same for you. Sometimes, people can and will throw you under the bus (or off the hot air balloon in Helga’s case) for their own gains. This is something I learned the hard way and I’m still recovering from it over twelve years later. But hey at least I didn’t fall several stories onto solid pumice!

Also, for the love of god, do NOT screw around with special things from other cultures. ESPECIALLY if you don’t understand its significance! You could end up as a living rock!

Lastly, real life adventures can be scary but they are SO worth it! It’s better to take chances, especially if you have a dream that you want to accomplish. It may be terrifying and you may hit rock bottom and sometimes you’ll downright fail but don’t let that stop you. If Milo can do it so can you.

Night all!

[seth-whumps]

i am currently working on your questions (i was so sos so excited to get them i missed answering em about my sillies) BUT i have a quick one for you while i do...

PLEASEEE tell me more about jj's midwesternisms. i find his upbringing SO FUN and i love it so so much

follow-up question: does he have any kind of accent/voice claim? same thing for morri!!!! i loveeeee voices for characters and accents so much it tells you so much about them

OK THANKS [viciously shaking your Guys by their shoulders in excitement]

AUGHHH an opportunity to talk about JJ's accent and Midwestern upbringing??? are you aware of the gift you have given me????? bug you are THE BEST

(a lot of this is me talking about growing up in the Midwest because I think JJ should get the good parts too)

JJ spent his time under the stars, a lot. Far away from the city, you get the prettiest view of the sky at night. He would start a bonfire with his brothers and sister, make smores under the night sky. It's some of his fondest memories. He really misses the stars sometimes.

So, JJ is from the outskirts of a very small town in South Dakota. Most of his time was spent either on farm chores or daydreaming during the drive to school, which took an hour at times. He knew how to drive tractor when he was eight; he rode horses and cared for chickens and spent his life doing the dirty work. When he was younger, he was tanned, sported sunburns, and had more freckles and muscle from the work.

Speaking of, he does have siblings! Two older brothers, and one younger sister who could kick any of their asses. There's a scrapbook of family photos somewhere in the boxes of his studio apartment in Chicago (the city may change in the future), and one of her sitting on his shoulders in a corn field. When life is hell, he finds that book.

Despite that, JJ wasn't The Farm Kid in his family. His oldest brother was supposed to take over the farm before he had a kid; then the second oldest moved to Georgia. He was a farm kid, but he didn't know it as well as his brothers. He left for Chicago anyway. Everyone knew why. He couldn't make a difference in a small town like that. He was "born for better things".

Some small midwesternisms!!!

He can drive manual, as said in another post

He can and will kick your ass at pool and at darts. And poker or gin rummy. Lots of bar games

His strength was never superhuman. He was just used to throwing hay bales

He feels very isolated in the city because he doesn't know everyone

He played sports in high school, mainly baseball, but he was also in some theater things. He loved expressions, and playing the heros

He got a box of all of his dad's old comic books and read them all the time

There is a Midwestern custom of if you're on time, you're late, and if you're early, you're on time. This is deeply instilled in JJ. He hates being late

He is very used to picking up problems. This is an odd phrase, but consider: you grow up on a farm that raises several baby animals. Those animals are problems? You pick them up. That habit carries over. He will just pick people up if they're being an issue

If a house isn't carpeted, he wears his shoes. Farm house floors aren't as clean as city houses. The habit is hard to break

His favorite road rage insult is "dipstick" because he didn't swear in the car when his parents drove with him

ACCENTS NOW!!!

For JJ, Midwestern accents are distinct in that they sound almost typical American with just a little bit of strange to it. Often you'll hear an 'e' sound before an 'a' (let's she'are something, can I te'ake that from you), and that is still mildly present in his accent. He also tends to crack down pretty hard on 'r' sounds--take a typical American accent and make all the vowels a little harsher, and you've got the classic Midwest. The faster he talks, the more harsh the vowels and rhotics get.

Morrigan's accent is much more West Coast or Washington. Not a movie popular "sahh dude" kind of accent, but if you took the harshness out of the Midwest and the roundness out of the Southern, you get a sort of California accent. There is a lightness on 'r's and vowels ever so slightly reminiscent of English accents (they also say "aye-ther" instead of "eether"). They're however able to change their accent depending on the situation. (It is hilarious to witness stuffy, professional Morrigan start ranting like they're from New Jersey.)

--

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THESE QUESTIONS rambling about his Midwestern experience was so cathartic you are the absolute best ily bug /p <33333

[finniestoncrane]

I'll let my date decide I'm 22 years old. Pan. Genderfluid. Short and fat. I'm canonically autistic and canonically have ADHD (I'm sorry I like referring to it w=as canon). You already know that though. You already are SO FUCKING AWARE of my obsession with old monster movies. I mean... I didn't go on an hour long tangent about movie titles ibn a game, and are therefore copywrite friendly, and what films they could be meant to be for no reason. And you are so incredibly aware of the research I did for Gen-1 and Gen-2 synths, and me picking apart Nick Valentine's voice lines to determine anatomy of gen-2 prototype synths. I believe I've also told you that I'm still considering being an auto-mechanic.

What you probably don't know though is that I took an engineering class in high school and I kicked ass in competitions. Like there was this hydraulic robot arm made of wood, syringes, and plastic tubes. Despite the fact that the tubes kept falling off the syringes, my team got like... 2nd place in my class and 4th place schoolwide. There was also a competition for making a boat out of just cardboard and duct tape. Not to brag but our boat could hold 3 people (when it was only required that 2 people go in the boat) and we got the second fasted time schoolwide. We didn't even have paddles technically, unlike some groups who made carboard paddles. We had just a thick pieces of cardboard covered entirely in duct tape. Literally was my favorite class. This wasn't my decision cuz it was a group project but still.

In video games I am a sort of item hoarder because I'm terrified I'll need something later and then I never need it later. Not me having an inventory full of Junk in Fallout 4.

You are also probably aware of my insistence that ghoul cum is radioactive and how the terminal on the Prydwen proves this. Which is good for me and my item hoarding tendencies because I have so much RadAway. Cuz we all know that I'm a ghoulfucker. Also a robotfucker but that's a different story that started with Transformers and got me into cars because I wanted a way to fuck Transformers in vehicle mode because I'm just horny like that (affectionate). A weird hobby I also have is miniatures. I wouldn't call it miniature painting just yet because I have done a whole lot of not painting. I have paint for sure. I seem to be refusing to pick a color scheme and sticking with it. I have not bought primer yet. I have so many miniatures. I am preparing to get more because there's one of Cooper Howard and John Hancock and Nick Valentine and Sturges. But Sturges is in a different box from Hancock and Nick, and then Cooper is in a different one from everyone else. And the box Sturges is in is REALLY hard to find. And the box Cooper is in isn't technically out yet. Like... I already have Toad and Magento from Marvel Crisis Protocol that are unpainted. And then I have a whole bunch of Seraphons in a box that I cannot for the life of me pick a paint scheme for. And I don't even know why I bought Necrons. I don't know how to even play Wasteland Warfare. Or Marvel Crisis Protocol. Or Warhammer: Age of Sigmar. Or Warhammer 40k. I just like the models. Hell, I don't even know how to play D&D and have no one who will play with me as of right now. But I have 2 D&D books (one is official, the other one isn't) and a Fallout TTRPG pdf file with rules for how to play. It's not technically official but I think the guy got permission to make it. It was free. I was considering making a campaign for that based on where I live but then I realized I'd have to build creatures from the ground up, and find a way to play test them when I literally don't personally know enough people who even really care about Fallout in general. Also the terrain makes it hard to slap a vault anywhere.

zim my tiny beloved, i already knew who i would pair you with, but if i'd had any doubts this message would have sealed your fate because you know who else would have infodumped before explaining anything about themselves...? 💚🩷 🔞minors dni🔞 send a request • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie2k (to follow or to block)

Kent Connolly is literally the autistic mascot. He's the cutest, silliest, sweetest little guy, so that already tells me you'd be perfect for one another.

I think one of the best things about Kent, and you, is your ability to retain soooooo many details. You're both so passionate about learning everything you can about specific subjects, and you're both determined enough to learn everything you can.

I can picture you both either braving it to go out to the library or saving up your caps to pay for a mostly intact book that will answer a niche question you both had about Grognak the Barbarian.

You're both so brave too, willing to go through a lot for the things you love and for your happiness.

If there's one ghoul who will understand the need, and the joy, of infodumping, it is Kent. He'd be such a sweet listener, he'd ask informed questions, he'd participate respectfully in whatever lecture you were giving, and he'd do it all with the sweetest smile. And when you were ready to listen to him, he'd have a very well-written little speech all prepared.

I can't think of a happier way to spend your time in the wasteland than by sharing your interests, learning about each other and their favourite things, or just engaging in some paralell play, the autistic national sport.

And I know he'd write extra episode of the Silver Shroud for you if you just desperately needed more of that particular hyperfixation.

I just think Kent would be the kind of guy who would be appropriately impressed and appreciative of how much you know about Captain Boomerang and his entire family history, and the only person who could maybe try and know more than you on that subject.

[mask131]

You know how there is a tendency by the USA industries to copy famous British shows? The Office. Ghosts. Skins. Being Human. Shameless. Queer as Folk. Men Behaving Badly. All these shows have a UK vs US version. And everybody keeps talking about the differences and comparisons. It is such a well-known and documented phenomenon that Wikipedia has a FRIGGIN' LIST of American shows based on English ones (here it is if you want to check it out). They even tried to do an American Absolutely Fabulous! Can you believe that? There is an unpicked pilot out there for an American "AbFab" show! Crazy...

There is however a very similar phenomenon nobody talks about (probably because it does not involve English-speaking media, hence why people are less interested in this).

Turns out there is quite a handful of American movies "based" (cough cough) on French movies! Ranging from straight-up remakes to rip-offs "inspired by".

Recently, as I was looking at a video dissecting some American comedies that failed at the box-office, I discovered this movie:

"Dinner for Schmucks". Released in 2010. Just by looking at the movie's title and poster I already knew what it was about and could tell you all about it. No, not because I watched it - but because this is actually an American copy of one of the most famous French comedies of the 90s: "Le dîner de cons"

Jay Roach, "Dinner for Schmucks" director, denied any claim that his movie was a remake of the French one. He said it was merely "inspired" by Le dîner de cons. But it is pretty HEAVILY influenced if you ask me.

You must understand that Le dîner de cons is still to this day considered one of the great classics of French comedy. It was a movie adaptation of a theater play of the same name. The same guy did the theater play and the movie (Francis Veber), and the same guy played the titular "Schmuck" in both media: Jacques Villeret. Jacques Villeret whose role in Le dîner de cons stays his most memorable and iconic character to date. To tell you how big this movie was, when it was released in France it was the second most-watched movie of the year, right behind... Titanic.

So when you compare that to this American movie. An American movie that bombed and was deemed a failure. And when you take into account the fact none of the fans of the American movie seem to even know the existence of the French one, despite this being a movie EVERYBODY in France knows at least by name... Argh.

Now... this discovery did surprise me, but it did not surprise me THAT much. Because I was aware of something similar that had happened before.

I am a big fan of another great classic of French comedy. Le Père Noël est une ordure (Santa Claus is an asshole).

This 1982 movie (again, based on a previous theater play and reusing most of the same actors as on the stage version) is still considered to this day a classic in many ways. A classic of dark French comedy ; a classic of Christmas movies in France ; and one of the master-pieces of the comedy group Le Splendid, right behind their movies Les Bronzés. Just like with Un dîner de cons, most French people can recognize its visuals or quote you a line, even if they didn't actually see the movie. [If you ask me... I am much more of a fan of the stage play. The movie is the most famous of the two, but I saw the theater play first, and the two pieces differ mostly with their endings. The movie's ending is dark but happy/optimistic ; while the play's ending is hilarious grim and devastating. But that's mostly a question of tastes.]

Anyway, since I was a fan I bought the official companion book about the movie, and that's in there that I discovered the existence of 1994's Mixed Nuts.

An American comedy movie that was a re... Oh sorry, just like for "Dinner for Schmucks", the people behind this movie refused to say it was a "remake". They said it was merely "based on" the French movie. And just like "Dinner for Schmucks", it was a big failure.

I distinctively remember how the person who wrote for the French companion book was not kind AT ALL on this American movie. Notably they pointed out that one of the reason it failed in the USA, and nobody wanted to see it in France, was because it took this dark comedy about suicide and couple abuse and murder (it is still hilarious fun, trust me), and tried to turn it into a "politically correct" optimistic, all-family comedy a la "typical American comedy". Except the core story was designed to be about the dark side of Christmas, the hypocrisy of society (and of Christmas), and just a bunch of not-nice, not-good people getting stuck together on one Christmas night filled with blood, sex and despair (again, it is actually VERY FUN, I assure you). Something that was deemed not "palatable" enough for American audiences.

These two cases being brought up, I got curious and I went on Wikipedia to check if there were other American movies "inspired by", "remaking" or just "blatantly ripping-off" French movies. And I was NOT disappointed!

There's too many to list, but I will leave the most jarring, shocking or flabbergasting cases (at last for me, a French person) under the cut. I mean, I knew about the US vs UK tv shows battles, and I knew about the American remakes of J-Horror (The Grudge, The Ring), but I never thought they'd have done something similar with French cinema!

And you know what the worst thing is? Most of these American remakes were failures, right? And the French movies were much more successful and famous than them... Yet, most American people know only about their American movies, which failed, and don't know one piece of info about the French movies, despite them still being showed and talked to this day. This is honestly such a jarring cultural gap. [And also a confirmation that American movie industry would rather remake dozens and dozens of foreign movies rather than bother releasing them dubbed or subtitled. Crazy.] Hopefully things are changing a bit because today, due to how the Internet exists, the original French pieces are talked about much more. People know better the original Taxi movie or the Les Intouchables movie than their American remake... Still though...

Anyway here is the list of these cinematic crimes underneath the cut

2000's Under Suspicion. Created out of the classic French thriller Garde à vue, a greatly awarded movie that gathered two legends of French cinema, Lino Ventura and Michel Serrault (and which is Serrault's darkest role ever).

2017's The Upside. Created out of 2011's Intouchables, an international success of a comedy that notably turned small-career actor Omar Sy into one of the huge names of French cinema.

2004's Taxi. A failed remake attempting to cash on 1998's Taxi, the movie that started the immensely famous Taxi movie franchise.

1998's Pure Luck. Not many people know this movie is based on 1981's La Chèvre, one of the famous comedies of actor Pierre Richard. (And there's the... other guy. Better not talk of him for a while Xp)

2015's Martyrs. A remake of what is considered one of the most famous (and disturbing) French horror movies of the 2000s: 2008's Martyrs, one of the big names of the "New French Extremism". (Well it is Franco-Canadian... But still)

1991's Oscar. A remake of 1967's Oscar, one of the great comedies of the 60s featuring the comedy legend Louis de Funès.

1996's The Birdcage. Created out of 1978's La Cage aux Folles, the most iconic role of Michel Serrault (in the comedy genre) and a very influential piece of fiction when it comes to depictions of gay couples and drag queens in French cinema.

1988's And God Created Woman. An American remake of 1956's Et Dieu... créa la femme, aka the movie that turned Brigitte Bardot into an international star.

2021's CODA. An American remake of 2014's La Famille Bélier. I think it was the first big movie of Louane, and it was notoriously talked about for having a big representation of people with earing problems since it is about a talented singer born into a family of deaf people. (And it is not a comedy, it is a drama movie).

By all of the hells, even Some Like it Hot! Yes even Some Like it Hot was inspired by a French movie: 1935's Fanfare d'amour!

If you want to see more, just look at the Wikipedia category for "American remakes of French movies".

[ewingstan]

4, Mia hurst

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would it be?

Mia's basically a Vince Gilligan character already so while "put her in Breaking Bad/BCS" makes sense it also wouldn't change much. What she needs is a setting that's in a wholly different context, but that still allows her to track large swaths of information in a short period so her skills are on full display.

Cyberpunk settings are the obvious way to go, but since Claw is already "just far enough in the future to dip into cyberpunk tropes," that feels like cheating. The solution is to overcorrect and go too far into the future. Lets get her into a Dying Earth book. The sun is cooling and we've gotten good enough at math to summon demons. Have her be a character in a Jack Vance story who is introduced in the last page and somehow ties up all the loose plot threads by telling the heroes what her scrying orb has revealed to her.

Better yet, have her be a Book of the New Sun character for Severian to bounce off of. She'd fit right in with all the weirdos he runs into. Make her an Ascian quadruple agent, or an information-collector for the autarch. All you need to do is make her 50% more verbose and 70% more self-aware about her own deal and she'd be ready to go with a weird monologue that Severian spends ten pages ruminating on.

"You claim that I am a criminal for raising a child that was not mine to raise. But does the mother's blood make the child hers? You yourself were raised by your order, taken from the family that by blood would claim ownership of you."

I wondered, not for the first time, how the large woman knew so much of what went on in the Citadel. "Yet the circumstances of my birth were such that my mother could not have raised me. The Order, having a responsibility to take her life, necessarily had a duty to the child she bore."

"Just so. But was it mere chance that you be put in such circumstances? The Increate arranges all, as you well know. Just as your mother was delivered as, hm, a client to your brothers," she plastered on a smile that I did not understand, "the girl was delivered as a daughter to me. Do the seekers of information not require their own rituals of initiation, as do the seekers of pentience?"

"You are not of any order."

"I wear no colored cloak, it is true. Yet I play my role as you play yours. And when I die I will not be remembered for any of my names. But the role will live on."

You'd need to figure out how to translate that into anything resembling her voice. But Do you see my vision.