#Or like ... Making my own Mean Mommy Puns right now but you know the rest those men there deserve it especially Dave so calm down... <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[fluffywings13]

Insurance

Izuku sneaks up behind the hero while he’s busy playing with the other kids, creeping along as silent as the night, careful not to make too much movement lest his feather’s pick up on the vibrations, breathing slow and steady to keep them from picking up on the sound of each inhale and exhale, and cautiously reaches into the man’s coat pocket. Little fingers curl around a soft thick glove, and he carefully pulls it out, hugging it to his chest, he turns and creeps away, tip toeing through the day room until he’s safely hidden in the hall before he darts down the rest of the hall and slides on his socks as he rounds the banister sharply, and runs up the stairs.

The seven year old slides down onto his knees inside his room, pulling a loose floor board up, and sets the glove inside with the rest of his collection. Gloves, two hero ID’s, feathers, and a visor. This was his insurance, he liked it when Hawks came to visit, he spent time with him too, the quirkless freak that no mommy and daddy wanted and got left at the childrens home while all his other companions got adopted out.

He’s not upset about it anymore. He’s used to it. Sometimes life just wasn’t fair.

Izuku knows stealing was wrong, but he likes Hawks visits, he likes when he’ll sit down and color with him, or read with him, or play games with him, or talk about heroes with him, or tells him stories about the villains he’s fought.

Taking his things was his insurance, he knows the man knows that his things are being taken, and he knows the man knows his things are being taken by someone in the childrens home, and if he knew his things were being taken by someone here then he’d have to keep coming back until he figured out who it was and got his stuff ba— “So you’re the one that’s always nabbing my stuff.”

The greenette squeaks and jumps, turning quickly, and squeaks again, pushing himself back when he comes face to face with Hawks, the man grins at him, squatting just behind him. “I—I’m sorry! I—I—I just wanted y—you to keep coming back! A—And if your s—stuff was here and you kn—knew it was here th—then you’d h—have to keep coming b—back!”

“Relax, lil nestling.” The blonde hero ruffles his curls. “I’m not upset at you. You got a lot of goods in there, little sticky fingers, took me a minute to figure out my things were disappearing after I left from here.”

Izuku takes a minute to steady his breathing. “Y—You’re not mad that I—I’ve been taking your st—stuff?”

“Nope, if anything, I’m impressed.” Hawks reaches into his little hidey hole to pull out his collection of pilfered goods. “Let’s see, you got six of my gloves, at least a dozen of my feathers, two of my IDs—” the winged man spares him a glance. “How’d you get your mitts on my wallet, pull out my hero ID, and put my wallet back in my pocket without me knowing, little mister, not once, but twice?” He smiles when the boy giggles softly. “And one of my visors. That’s impressive, hatchling, especially the IDs and the visor, how you got the IDs without me noticing is a mystery I’m going to dedicate eighty-nine percent of my time trying to solve, and I always push my visor up on my head.” The seven year old watches with wide eyes as the hero places all his things back in his hidey hole and places the floor board back over them.

Izuku yelps when the man suddenly straightens and he’s yanked up off the floor by the hand, tugged up into the man’s arms, and Keigo grins at him. “I’m not upset that you’ve been taking my stuff, but as a grownup, I still gotta punish you for stealing, because that’s a no-no.”

He gulps. “W—What’re you gonna d—do?”

Izuku leans in when the hero leans in, as though to share a secret between them, and Keigo whispers soft and smooth in his ear. “For this offense, I think I’m going to have to call on the tickle monster for help.” The seven year old shrieks with giggles at the mention of said tickle monster, squirming in the man’s arms already, not the tickle monster, anything but the tickle monster. “And, the tickle monster is suuuper hungry today.” Izuku shrieks with more giggles at the notion of a hungry tickle monster. “You know what that means, don’t you, he’s gonna eat you right up, those ribs, and that tummy, and those toes, eat’em all up. He might even have some of those armpits as dessert, never know what kind of mood he’s in, he’s suuuper hungry, never know how much he might eat when he’s suuuper hungry.” Keigo smiles at the youth’s bright giggling and leans forward to press their foreheads together. “I got an offer for you after the tickle monster leaves. Do you wanna hear it now or after the tickle monsters visit?”

The seven year old bites back on his giggling, but can’t stop himself, the mere mention of the mean tickle monster alone makes him giggle. “Now!”

“Okay,” the hero leans in further to brush their noses together. “I’ve been looking for a little nestling of my own for a short while now, time for this big bird to settle down, get himself a little cutie bird, start himself a small flock. I found this adorable little cutie bird with an extra tickly little chubby tummy that the tickle monster loves to play with. Fluffy green curls, a little button nose perfect to press kisses onto, and little sticky fingers. Do you know where he might be, I wanna take him home with me when I leave in a little bit.”

Izuku bites his lip. “Am I the little cutie bird?”

Keigo hums lightly. “Well now, I’ve been looking, but I know of only one cutie bird with an extra tickly little chubby tummy and fluffy green curls.” He pecks the seven year olds nose fondly. “You’re coming home with me, little one, this papa bird found the baby cutie bird he’s been looking for.”

“Really?” The green haired child whispers hopefully. “You wanna be my daddy, for real, you mean it?”

“Well, I prefer papa bird.” The hero teases softly. “You know me and my bird puns. But daddy works too.”

“Wow.” Izuku whispers softly, his eyes glistening as they fill with tears, and the avian man coos soothingly. “I’m getting a daddy. I always hoped I’d get a mommy or a daddy, I didn’t need both, one was enough and everyone always said no mommy or daddy would want someone like me. But I’m getting a daddy.”

“You sure are.” The blonde whisper back just as softly. “And a daddy who loves you very, very much too. If no one else sees how much of an amazing, wonderful, fun little nestling you are, that’s their loss, and my gain.” Keigo nuzzles the boy affectionately. “But, we can’t leave until the tickle monsters thoroughly punished you for stealing from his best friend.”

That brings them back to the task at hand, and Izuku giggles wildly as the hero steps forward, climbing up onto his bed on his knees, their foreheads still pressed together, and he giggles harder when a hand cradles the back of his head protectively as he’s lowered down onto his bed. “Dahahahaddy! Nohohoho tihihihickle mohohohonster!” (Daddy! No tickle monster!)

“I can’t stop him, little one.” He lowers himself to lay over the seven year old’s legs. “The tickle monster comes to punish all the little sticky fingered nestlings that steal from his favorite bird friend.” The greenette bats at his hands as he slowly pushes his grey t-shirt up, he manages to get it where he wants it, and catches those little hands mid-bat. “I think the tickle monster’s going to start with dessert today.” Izuku giggles harder when the hero slowly lowers himself towards his right armpit, Keigo’s large hands curled around his wrists, holding his arms up above his head. “Mmm smells like peaches. Guess what?”

“Whahahat?” (What?)

There’s a brief pause. “The tickle monster loves peaches.” And the boy squeals brightly when the hero buries his face in his armpit, drilling his heels into his mattress when the man starts nibbling playfully, squealing with laughter as he shakes his head. “Mmmm that’s so yummy.” Keigo pulls away from his armpit and his squealing cackles fade back into boisterous giggles. “I think I might need a bit more of those peaches.”

“Nohohoho! Dahahahahahaaddyyy! Nohohohoho! Plehehehehehease! Ihihihihihihi’m sohohohohorry!” (No! Daddy! No! Please! I’m sorry!) Izuku shakes his head when his new daddy glances at him. “I think I need a bit more.” And squeals when he buries his face back into his armpit. “Eeiieaiaiahahahahahahahahahaha aahahahahahahahahahahahahaa dahahahahhahahaaddyyyy! Nohohhohohoho ehehehehahahaaating! Nohohohoho muhuhuhuunchies! Eeieiaiaahahahahahahahahahaa ahahahahahahheehehahaiaiaaiahahahahahahahahahaaa!” (daddy! No eating! No munchies!) He throws his head from side to side when the hero turns his head and starts nibbling again. “Eeieieiaaahahahahahahhahahahaa aahahahahahahahahahhaahhaahaa dahahahahahaaddyyyyy! Nohohohoho mohhohohohohore! Nohohohoho mohohohohoore muhuhuhunchies! Eieieiaaahhahahahahahahahahahahaa aahhahahahahahaahhaahahahaahaa!” (Daddy! No more! No more munchies!)

“Yummm.” The hero hums as he pulls away from his right armpit, Izuku giggles feverishly, arching to the side when the winged man leans over to the other side. “Lets see if these peaches are just as yummy.” He squeals again when the hero buries his face in his other armpit scratching at his new daddy’s hand with his fingers desperately, the seven year old shakes his head again as he cackles. “Mmmm those are some yummy peaches.” Keigo pulls the boy’s arms down as he moves down himself. “Look at these tender ribs, they look so yummy too, maybe just a little bite, just a little one.”

Izuku squeals when the man buries his face in his left ribs, nibbling and munching playfully, rubbing his face in torturously. “Eeieiaiaiaahhaahhahahahahahaha aahahahahahahahahahahahahahaa dahahahahhahahahahaaddyyy nohohohohohohoho eieieaiaiaahahahahahahahhaahahahaa nohohohoho muhuuhuhuhuhuhunchihihihihiies! Aahahahhahahhahahahahaahhaa aaahahahahahahahhahahahahhhaahahhaaa eieieaiaahahahahahahhahahahahahahaa aaahahhahahahahahahahahahahaha nohohohohohoo dahahahahahahhahaaaddyyy!” (Daddy no! No munchies! No daddy!) The young boy cackles when the hero turns his head and munches down the length of his ribs, arching his side as he munches on the backend of his ribs, squirming and squealing with laughter when he munches back around again. “Dahahahahahahhaaddyyyy! Eeieiiaiaiaahahahahahahahhahahahahahaha aahhahahahahahahahahahahahahaa nohohohohoho muhuhuhuhuhunchies! Nohohohohohoho! Eieieaiaiaahhahahahahahahahahaha aaahahahahahahhahahahaha! Dahahahhahahaaddyyyy plehehehheheaaahhahahahhahahahase! Ihihihihihihi’m sohohohohorryyyy! Eieiaiahahahahahahahahaha aahahahahahahahhahahaa aaaahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahhaa dahahahahahaddyyy!” (Daddy! No munchies! No! Daddy please! I’m sorry! Daddy!)

“Mmmm, these ribs are real nice.” Keigo rubs his nose over the boy’s lowest rib and chuckles softly when he shrieks. “Maybe just one more bite.”

“No! Nohohoho! Nohohoho muhuhuhunchies!” (No! No munchies!) Izuku tugs on his arms desperately, squealing when the hero slowly dips his head, shaking his head frantically the closer he gets to his ribs. “Nohohoho dahahahahahhaaddyyyy nohohohoho nohohohoho muhuhuhunchies! Eeiaiaiahahahahahahahahha ahahahahahhahahahahahahahaha aaahahahahhahahahahhahahahaha dahahahahahaaddyyyyy eieaiaiahahahhahahahahahahaahhahahaa! Nohohohohohohoo dahahahahhaaddyyyy! Eieiaiaiaahahahahahahahahahaa aaahhhaheeheieiaeaiahahhahahahahahahahahahaha nohhohohoho plehehehehehehease nohohohoho muhuhuhunchies!” (No daddy no no munchies! Daddy! No daddy! No please no munchies!)

“Those ribs are simply delicious.” Keigo lifts his head and smiles at the giggly child under him “The tickle monster’s starting to get full, does he have enough room in his belly for some of this yummy looking tummy here?”

The greenette giggles wildly and shakes his head, tugging on his hands, curling them around his tummy when the man let’s them go. “No! No tummy! No daddy! No tummy munchies! I’m sorry! I’ll never take your stuff again!”

Chuckling softly, the hero rests up on his elbows, pecking the seven year old on the nose. “You took the tickle monsters things, he wants something back, what’ve you got to trade with him?”

Izuku leans up and curls his arms around the man’s neck, pecking his cheek adorably. “I love you daddy tickle monster.”

“Aw, well now, no tickle monster worth their salt can turn that down.” He turns his head slightly to kiss the boy’s cheek, curling his fingers around the boy’s ribs, he lifts himself with one strong beat of his wings, pulling the child up with him. “Hows about the tickle monster and his little cutie bird head on home. A nice warm bubble baths got your name on it. Might even find some toys waiting for us there too.”

“You mean it?” The little boy rests their foreheads together. “You still wanna be my daddy?”

“Cutie bird,” he brushes their noses together. “I’m never gonna stop wanting to be your daddy.” Keigo smiles softly and the seven year old slowly returns said soft smile with one of his own. “Ready to go home cutie bird?”

Izuku nods slightly. “Ready to go home daddy.”

[magnoliapip]

Potential Open Heart Love Interests Who Were Wasted

By now, we all understand that Pixelberry has wasted every single fragment of potential that the Open Heart series had. Frequently overshadowed by aimless plotlines and unbalanced attention toward the four love interests we had is the vast array of potential love interests the OH series could have had. This list is the top 10 (yes, 10) love interests PB wasted. This means that this list will not be discussing the wasted potential in the four love interests we were handed (Bryce, Jackie, Rafael and Ethan).

Please note that some of these (especially toward the bottom) are included more for fan service than for actual wasted potential. Also, these are all my own opinions. Please feel free to share your own! There may be spoilers below. Viewer discretion is advised!

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#10 -- Baz Mirani

Not introduced until Book 2 of the Open Heart series, Baz is the friendlier and more outgoing of the two Doctors Mirani. One of the top in his field of immunology, Baz manages to balance his intellect with an easygoing nature. A relaxed positivity that almost comes off as too much. He was never really around enough, nor did he have the right interactions with MC in the series to feel like a fully developed love interest. However, after having the options in another PB book Laws of Attraction, it might have been interesting to see how it would turn out if MC could hook up with Baz.

#9 -- June Hirata

Also not introduced until Book 2, Dr. Hirata is a ruthless force to be reckoned with. A cunning behavior psychologist and brilliant neurologist, one can never really know what to expect from June, though this is mostly because no one can tell if her actions are genuine. After MC is told how June “earned” her place on the diagnostics team, it becomes clear that she will stop at nothing to get what she wants. Honestly, the prospect of having that directed toward MC...yeah, I want it. Badly. The only reason she isn’t higher on the list is because of her social inconsistency..

#8 -- Zaid Mirani

One of two senior residents introduced to the MC in book 1, Zaid is partly responsible for managing the interns. Zaid is the more blunt of the Mirani twins and can come off as an ass. He’s also shown to have a softer side that comes out in increasing increments throughout the series culminating in a touching moment in book 3. Once more, Zaid isn’t someone the MC interacts with a whole lot throughout the books, acting more as a recurring character to pop up once or twice a book, but I think that is a crock. I wanted more Zaid and I’m sorry we didn’t get it.

#7 -- Elijah Greene

A fellow intern at Edenbrook Hospital, MC meets Elijah in book 1 along with the rest of their group of friends. Elijah quickly becomes a steadfast friend and even a roommate. Clearly a brilliant doctor with a future in research, Elijah balances this with his upbeat personality and love of science fiction and gaming. Characters like Elijah often get relegated to the realm of being a best friend and it might have been nice to see him opened up as a possible love interest. He’s fiercely loyal, as seen by his defense in book 2 at the baseball game, and is steadfastly determined to get where he wants to be. There’s a lot to be admired in Elijah, but considering PB dropped his canon love interest, Phoebe, I shouldn’t be surprised that he was never an option anyway.

#6 -- Sienna Trinh

Sienna is literally the best.

I should just end it there because anyone who has read the series knows, but for the sake of this list…Sienna is an ally of MC’s right from the moment they meet, when Sienna helps get MC out of a sticky situation. This perfectly encompasses Sienna’s character. She spends the entire series taking care of everyone but herself and being just the sweetest, kindest, most amazing baker and chinchilla mommy that exists. After what happens in book 1 and book 2 with both of her canon love interests, well, #Siennadeservesbetter. And I think her fellow dolphin would have been the perfect person for her. 

The only reason she is so far down on the list is because she does make such an incredible best friend.

#5 -- Harper Emery

The female older mentor to match Ethan. Harper would have been in a more compromised position, not just being a direct superior to MC like Ethan, but also being the Chief of Medicine for the hospital. As an admin, watching her toe the line between desire and propriety would have been just *chef’s kiss*. Instead, her role was consigned to being the family member too hard on their younger charge, projecting what she wants but can’t have onto Aurora. Now that I think about it, that last sentence makes me want it even more.

Besides, it would have been another female love interest rather than the one that we seem to get every book and a woman of color at that.

#4 -- Landry Olsen

I know what you’re thinking but just hear me out for a second and then you can eviscerate me in the comments.

Landry is a character that has me torn in more ways than one. First, I love the twist in book 1 where we see him for who he “truly is”. It was unexpected and a lovely change.

That notwithstanding, I was also deeply saddened to see yet another promising story not come to pass. See, there aren’t many characters like Landry who are so incredibly awkward but also come off as friendly. It was a lovely change of pace and it would have been amazing, just the sweetest, to see MC bring Landry out of his shell. MC could have helped Landry gain confidence to do far more than talk to the girl across the bar. Before the end of the book, he would have been having a full ass conversation with Ethan and maybe even mustering up the bravery to ask MC out. All of the pieces were there, either as platonic friend or love interest. Instead, Landry lived long enough to see himself become the villain. But my friends to lovers slowburn adoring heart will always have a piece longing for what could have been. Judge me if you will.

#3 -- Tobias Carrick

Originally introduced in book 2 to be to Ethan what Mass Kenmore is to Edenbrook, Tobias’ story takes a flip once book 3 comes around. Immediately compelling from the get go, Tobias shows a charming competitive nature sprinkled with arrogance, grey morality, and a devilish side. Tobias’ personality would either be completely in line with MC or completely against MC depending on how you tend to play the game. Both are completely valid and interesting options. Even before the infamous beet puns in book 3, Tobias made me want to know more. Tobias was the ultimate character in the Open Heart series that would have made a perfect one night stand. Alas, it seems we’ll never know more and must stick to the fantastic fanfiction writers on sites like this to sate us.

#2 -- Aurora Emery

Let me tell you, the line between #’s 1 and 2 is so thin it’s barely there. Those two are so close I almost can’t distinguish which one I wanted more. Aurora is first presented to MC and the gang as an intern who seems like she may become an antagonist of the series. As Book 1 presses on, we start to see Aurora in a whole new light. MC comes to understand why Aurora has the cold and closed off personality she does and when given the chances later in the series, Aurora opens up into almost an entirely different person as she finds herself outside of the expectations of her family.

Aurora is a brilliant doctor very nearly on the same level as MC and later seems to become a parallel to MC for what Tobias is to Ethan. Thankfully Aurora and MC’s relationship is a lot less volatile, but those brief fireworks make me really wish Aurora and MC would have officially been a thing. I feel like PB was weighing the option for a while but decided against it, much to their detriment.

However, I had to push Aurora down for one specific reason to come in the explanation for #1. And #1 is…

#1 -- Farley the Landlord

Be honest. After having Landry on this list, you thought this was a serious entry for a second, didn’t you? Just kidding!

(the real) #1 -- Kyra Santana

Kyra meets MC for the first time when Ethan dubiously introduces her to them because Kyra broke her arm in an accident. Right from the start, Kyra is an incorrigible flirt, obviously egged on by her cancer diagnosis and fear of death. Kyra has such an incredible story. Throughout books 1 and 2, Kyra is an incredible friend to MC and it breaks my heart that PB dropped her romantic storyline the way they did.

This is why Kyra edged out Aurora for #1. Going back and re-reading book 1, it’s always obvious that Kyra was meant to be a love interest. I’m not sure what stopped them from going forward with it. I’d like to think it had something to do with potential backlash for having a patient and their doctor get involved, but I think it has more to do with being a woman or a woman of color than anything else. Which is a damned shame. We stan Kyra Santana in this house and I wanted to leave with her at the end of book 2.

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So what do you all think? Do you agree with any of my placements? Vehemently disagree with others? I wrote this at 2am when I couldn’t sleep and didn’t bother to proofread before posting so you’re welcome.

Let me know below and cross your fingers for the finale of Open Heart book 3 coming later today!!

[aggressive-positivity-network]

Whoever your three favorite Batman villains are, following your "Henchman shared custody" thing (Because I need headcanons to fix my shitty day): Say there's this one henchperson who just... even these villains know something is wrong, they're so clingy and desperate to please. Eventually Joker calls them and says "Oh yeah, they have anxiety and PTSD from years of physical, verbal, and emotional abuse" because let's face it he knows this shit

Oooh, I wanna get right into this! However, I’m afraid I can only do one right now. Mr. Freeze is my ABSOLUTE favorite, though.

Mr. Freeze:

He was already kind of socially awkward to begin with - a lot of academics generally are - but now that he’s been pretty much without strong emotion and the general public for so long, he treats the henchman as independent people that need little support.

This can cause a bluntness that most tolerate, some appreciate, and others are put off by.

This henchperson in question is glad that they don’t have to explain their unwillingness to go home at night or their overwhelming need to be perfect, but a small part of them wishes that they’d ask.

Finally, it all comes to a head when the assistant accidentally knocks over a set of beakers, which shatter on the hard floor.

Mr. Freeze, without turning from his current project, asks them to sweep it up and get a new set. He isn’t happy about the delay or the money that will have to be spent on new beakers, but he isn’t too angry. After all, they’re just beakers.

The villain hears shards of glass being swept, but not very fast or with much effort, which is very odd for this particular henchman.

He turns around to find them on their knees, their shoulders shaking, too distraught to sweep the glass. Their hands were covered by the ski mask they were required to wear, but it was clear they were trying to keep back sobs.

Mr. Freeze didn’t question the behavior at the time - he assumed it was a normal emotional reaction - but as time went on, these events started to happen more and more frequently. Soon, Mr. Freeze could barely get through the day without seeing the henchperson in the midst of a stifled breakdown.

The work got done, but at what cost?

So, without any knowledge on the only subject he was ignorant in (emotions), he called Joker.

“Howdy! This is the Funny Farm, Old McJoker speaking. What can I do for you, pardner?”

“I don’t have time for your antics, clown.”

“Ouch. Cold shouldered again by Frosty the Snowman. I thought you were supposed to be some happy, jolly soul! Where’s your Christmas spirit, french fry?”

“Firstly, it’s August. Secondly, and I cannot stress this enough, my last name is pronounced freeze. Thirdly, I require your assistance, not a half-baked pun.”

“You’re getting a little nippy on more than my nose, Jack. Either you can get rid of that bad attitude, or you can make like snow and flake, got it? Today hasn’t really given me much reason to smile, Fry. And if you push my buttons, it’ll be out of the grease and into the fire for you.”

Mr. Freeze checked himself, took a deep breath, then described his issue with the henchperson.

“From my experience and research, humans don’t usually experience such reactions. Was I too harsh? Was my brusqueness unacceptable? Have I really been away from my own kind for so long...?”

There was a brief silence on the other end, but Joker eventually spoke. There was no humor in his voice.

“You mean Emma? That bright-eyed, bushy-tailed blonde? She’s what Wall Street would call unfortunate, but what the rest of us call crazy. And not the fun sort of crazy, either - mostly just pathetic. Like a dog on one of those activism commercials. On one hand, awwww, but on the other, what can you do? The damage has already been done.”

“What...happened to her?”

“What hasn’t, Jack? Parents kicked the bucket, she got bounced around a few foster homes, landed on one that had some sort of pageant dream she lived vicariously through her, a car crash killed daddy number six, and mommy soon after with a few too many special pills. She won a big pageant the night after the funeral and used the money to get herself an apartment in the bad part of Gotham, but ran dry a few weeks later. Signed up for the Henchman Program, bada-bing, bada-boom, there’s Emma.”

“How do you know so much?”

Another silence, then a half-hearted laugh.

“Some mixture of morbid curiosity and a love for tragedy. Isn’t that funny, Freeze? The King of Clowns being a sucker for sad endings and bitter tears? For dead parents and freak accidents and runny mascara? What can I say? I’m a gossip.”

Mr. Freeze felt what little rage he could welling up in his chest.

“She isn’t for your entertainment. Her unfortunate circumstances aren’t a punchline for your pathetic charade - the only true tragedy is your failed attempt at dark humor.”

Joker snarled. “Bye bye, Fry. Say hi to Nora for me, won’t you? I’ve heard she isn’t feeling too well...I’ve heard there has been a chill going around...”

Mr. Freeze gritted his teeth and slammed the phone back on the receiver. He had had enough.

However, his conversation with Joker made him take initiative and make the work environment better for Emma.

Freeze started with giving the henchwoman a place to stay. He disguised the repurposed rooms as a commute issue, so he encouraged anyone who would rather stay in the workplace to use them if their shift lasted more than a day.

Emma snatched the opportunity up like a starving dog, as did a few others. The group became fast friends, and Mr. Freeze could frequently hear them in the guest bedrooms playing board games or sharing stories.

Her mental health steadily improved, as did her work ethic and physical health. After a while, she had made such a recovery that Mr. Freeze asked her to be one of his permanent henchmen.

She accepted ecstatically, taking the martial arts and survival courses with unquenchable determination.

After a few weeks as an official Fractal, she was promoted to team leader, which Mr. Freeze bestowed with great satisfaction.

It was almost like having a daughter of his own...

[denotday]

Maybel Rhodes: Protectress

Itchy arms. My armbumps bumps take over life and chew my head off like a black mother. Even the sleeves of this sweater craddle these potholes as an english muffin craddles butter. But I'm more than my bumps and I'd make a quip on Fergie, but I'm no Joan Rivers. I'm small, meager. At eighteen, trying to find myself, live my own life. Typical teen drama, boring narrative, sob story. bored already. But know what isn't boring? I like strawberry shortcake and cheeseless pizzas. I have hopes of becoming a journalist and actually leading a career as moreof a Clark Kent than a Mary Jane or whatever the fuck that bitch's name is. Mary Anne? That used to be the name of one of my teachers. Going off; just thinking these thoughts while skateboarding to highschool.

Stay on the sides, away from cars, on the sidewalk, not too close to the white kids. White kids mean white mess, white messes mean cops who sweep the streets and take all the black kids with them in the process. I'm not a racist, just a black kid trying to stay alive in white america. Thank god I'm a weak bitch, one who cries for black men, one who doesn't face real issues like projected aggression. I'm a butterfly, something that men swat away and don't care about until MeToo movements. Gotta be careful but not too careful, kind but not too kind, firm but not a bitch, bitch but not a faggot. faggots suck.

No one thinks to ask these questions, here this thoughts. They see a black woman, better yet, a black female child. Worse thing to live in a ghetto. Sike; I say that I'm black and in a ghetto and get sob points. Fucking racist. I'm skating to one of those Fresh Prince schools. Didn't move on up, I'm simply moving; parents are mid class well grounded and guess what? My parents are still together. Probably breaking up soon but still breaking barriors of broke baby daddies and black slutty whore mothers who don't believe in abortion.

That's humor in of itself. A black kid skates into a white neighborhood with white sidewalks and doesn't have a nigger daddy and nigger mommy. What can be said by those PTA suburban soccer moms who want to demonise me and my own? Or am I palatable and a token black?

Making good grades, going to class on time. Only thing is, I don't have any friends to call. Even if I had one of those top quality iPhone 411s, I still wouldn't want to burden myself with filling up those high-techy contact lists. It's all bullshit after all, just capitalistic bilge. Something to fill the void without actually trying to let the public know that the void they're filling chalks up to capitalism. But again, those little tangents? "What does this have to do with having friends?" Everything. I don't give a shit, I accept shit. I tell things like it is, speak with lisps or change it up by sounding like an oxford professor.Not going to just abandon stream of consciousness 'cause class just started. This aint sims 4 and life ain't something that can be controlled; sped up or slowed down for the sake of an other's pleasure. I'm learning about shit that I'll never use like economics. That's shit that the government gives the state to teach, a little but not enough for highschoolers to overwhelm the system and decide "fuck student loans".

Not too bad here, though. Not all just "fuck hyschool" and teenaged angst. I go to the library, read books, go on my computer, listening to some Biggie and MFDoom and Tribe. Guess I am a nigger. Nigger-me and my nigger music. Even tththough it's they inspiration for they cracker music. Hate on us enough to keep us down but keep us up enough to steal from us. Today I'm reading some teen dystopian fantasy novel that I don't feel inclined to share with you guys. And no, it's not Hunger Games. It's Gunger Hames, the cousin of the franchise. Whoops just gave ya'll the name sorry. Either way I'm into that. Idea of a not-so-distant-future; humans making mistakes that fuck up the planet---disregarding that fact long enough so that the white main character can get it on with someone from the other side. Modern day Romeo and Juliett.

End of lunch, going back to class. It's back to back all day; boring teen shit that nobody cares about. Raising hands, answering questions, not understanding anything by the end of the day. Getting by is my motto. Long enough to get an A in the class and be on those ivy league watchlists. Even if I have to bust my ass to pay for student loans. Leaving highschool after all that non-work---no friends to lie to, no one to walk with, just me and my skateboard. These white paths not dirtied by brown except for my dirt body moving at the speed that a skateboard will go. Shift right here and there. Move away from rocks so that I don't fall headfirst. It's good shit. Here and there there are stone pebbles, blunts from---ironically enough--- the white kids and sharp object that I can't identify. FUCK. I don't have time to move around it and I can't just run offf. My leg'll get cut by it. Gotta just build up enough speed to roll over. Rolling...rolling...here it comes. Crouch down, focus, focus, pump speed anddddd....it stops my speed and loosens one of my bearings. Now I gotta walk the rest of the way back to my white little house with a white picket fence. Man screw--haha pun---this object. I have to use my 20/20 vision to find some small silver bolt that'll practically blend in with this bright ass sidewalk. Fuck white America.

In a little patch of weeds growing like black fists raising in the air I see the bolt and the responsible party for tossing me off the board. I raise my foot to crush this sonnofabiscuit like a bug so that some white kid's bike tire doesn't get licked---mind you this should be considered community service---and I figure that I won't ruin my rubber soles on the glass, so I'll just pick it up and toss it into the sewer. I put the bolt in my sweatpants pocket to keep it safe. I bend over again to peer at the crack in the sidewalk that I'll punt to the other side of the street where the other half of the street lives. It has tribal markings on it and must be, gasp, an ancient arcane ruin that'll give me superpowers. Kidding, you dumb bitch. "Why am I talking to myself this way? Jeez, some self-improvement classes would be nice". It's a bracelet made of some sort of beads. Kindof pretty but caked up with dirt and sand like no-one's business. I'm no Rocket Racoon so I just leave it. Even if I felt that it was interesting enough, I'd have to clean it off and disinfect it. It would just ruin the material underneath. Hm. Hm. Hm. Hm. Hm. Hm. Lemme stop; for real, in this white bread neighborhood, I might be able to get it appraised and pawn it off for some money or at the very least, see if it's worth keeping. I know; "this is the start of every horror movie", every tv show. I get it, but I'll cleanse the jewelry before wearing it. It's fine. It's fine. Hope it's fine. Jeez.

I put the bracelet in my other pocket away from the bolt and walk back home. The soles of my feet hit the white pavement and my feet move in the fashion of jubillee ferris wheels. Slowly rise in a circle, fall in perfect arch. Walking is divine poetry in of itself. Not too long now. A little further. Feels like the day is stretching. Still light outside and the summer-brink of fall--air is warming my rectum. "Oh god, what's with gays and their rectums". You know your g-spot is in your ass, men. It feels good for us too you know. Nice coolness for the butthole----rectum is for men, butthole is for women. I think. See? Not a Cliff Huxtable type; don't know everything. Not an Urkle. Conversations with myself like this are truly golden (ponyboy).

Fondle the silver piece, twist it in lock, get somewhere new. Novel design, simple concept. My rubber soles give me cat-walking abilities and I edge up the stairs. Hear shuffling downstairs in the kitchen. But the smell of musky forest wood with a hint of olive tells me that it's just my father. I'd announce my presence but this isn't a sitcom and I have a phone that I can use to text. Who talks nowadays?

On the table near the keyrack, I scoop into my pockets in search of the goods. The warm cotton touches the cool silver bolt. Set it aside to attach it to the skateboard later. "Why not now?" That'll be a problem for me to solve tomorrow. "Procrastination isn't good" Yeah I know. I've read the same 1990's health pamphlet that the health teachers give out. I hug my side to reach around for the other pocket. Same warmth, same feeling of comfort except...it's a new sensation. Hollow and porous. It's either bone carved into beads or plastic. Hope to...Well, not God, maybe I hope to goodness? Goodness? What am I? A preacher? Maybe that's why I like 16 year old boys. Anyway. It's too white over here for it to be bone. Unless it's some cracker who brought over some hoodoo shit and dropped it somewere. Great. Gonna burn some incense to cleanse it. Then gonna toss it somewhere so that it can't hurt anyone. Wait. It doesn't FEEL menacing. No darkness, no coldness, there's a comfort to be had. I don't see any visible engravings, no bite marks no arcane symbols. It may be safe. Just to be sure, I'm keeping it downstairs for it to curse someone else in the house. I rise up the stairs into the wide landing. Step, rise, step, rise, step, rise. Before I get to the top, I feel funny. Not sick funny or CURSED funny, but someone-is-in-my-presence funny. Strech my neck to look over my shoulder. Not too far to show interest but far enough to see what's going on---it's my dad handling the bracelet.

I whip my body around and I suppose this gives him a start.

"Hey, just got back from school. I'm pretty tired which is why I didn't want to talk. Found that bracelet in the sidewalk cracks before my skateboard broke. I wouldn't touch it if I were you. Don't know if it's cursed or not."

"Cursed? Bee, this is a genuine Sudanese artifact."

"Huh? When'd you turn into a archeologist? Or are you just nerding out about a 'special interest'"

"Har har. Nothing like that. This area used to be an auction town for slaves shipped from Sudan. Martinsville, Pennsylvania wasn't necessarily known for it's 'clean hands' you know. Gentrification made the area look nicer but its history is still pretty shit-covered."

"Ah, I remember now. I heard about this in history class" No I haven't. I don't even have history. Just want to stop talking to him about some dumb bracelet. "Can it sell for big bucks at a pawnshop?"

"I mean, sure if you'd like to get rid of it. Better to give it to the local museum though! It looks to me like it's made out of elephant tusks. Pretty well preserved too! The wearer must've been some warrior. They only wear these types of jewelry if they're the village's protectors. That's what I've read online anyway. You know how the interweb is though. Could be false."

"Oh wow. Ivory? That's a pretty dirty trade. Don't want to give something like that up to white people who continue to promote the trade. This'll just make the ivory market worse. I may keep it; I just wonder if it's cursed or something. I'll ask a local witchcraft practitioner to check it out tomorrow. Can I have thirty bucks for an appraisal along with an after-school snack?"

"Thirty? What're you going to buy? A salmon dinner with asparagus and steak? I'm not giving you Carabbas money. I can do 18. Enough for some street food."

"Not enough for the appraisal!"

"I'm sure the person will be able to work something out for you. You look twelve. You can play the 'Uwu I'm a baby who has no money, please help me out adult!' card. Or, how about this: pretend to be doing a research project for school on Sudanese slaves in the area. Just act like the school lent you the bracelet for the project"

"So lie?"

"I call it embellishment."

"I see"

I reached into his calloused palm and stole its contents, As a thief, I ran upstairs away from the site of the crime, away from the demons that lurked beneath the stairs. That's customary practice when going up stairs, right? To haul ass like there's no tomorrow like we're that black chick from Scary Movie? Sounds about right. I heaved and ho'd swinging my body back and forth up the stairs. Snaking my way into my room where I burrow for my after-school nap. That's what I tell my parents anyway. What I really do is blaze up in my room and turn on the fan. Gotta keep the smoke minimal. "Such a typical teen". Yeah, whatever. Like your generation wasn't popping ass and drinking bathtub wine when ya'll were young, Get outta here.

It's a good high. Kind where you'd listen to lofi and eat peanuts just for the fun of it. Another bong hit. Satisfying. I'm just leaning back on my sofa; it's firm and uncomfy but when I'm blazed, don't none of it matter. I could lose all of my words...give up....let....go.....

"...."

"What is this energy I'm feeling? So warm and electric. Is this love? Am I so sexually frustrated that I'm in love with a bong? Shit, I fuck with that. That's pretty words. 'I'm in love with my bong'. Such nice love. haha."

I'm hungry and it's four am. The weed has worn off. So tired man. Gotta go downstairs for some chips or something. Hungry to the max. Munchies munchies munchies for the weed monster. What a drug.

I creep down the stairs and up once more. My bare footpads cling to the hardwood and leave sweat prints in the shape of my stompers. During my ascent I leave crumbs. Have the house feeling like a Brother's Grimm story. I satisfy my snack desires as I prepare for school in the next hour.

Running water on my arms. Three passes of lotion on arms and legs. Can't be the ashy black kid that look like they an African living in a dirt house. Ain't able to help the rough patches that coat my body but I can help keep my skin moisturized.

A'ight. Got my fit got my board. Just have to screw the bolt back on and find the bracelet. Shit. Left it upstairs. I'm already late as hell. Rushing up the stairs. Search for the bracelet, find it, get out house. Objectives objectives. I spot it from afar and gravitating toward it, put it gingerly in my pocket. Kindof like someone would with a used tissue. Aren't humans gross? I mean, snot? Bacteria-filled snot? Nasty. Thoughts gone, make brain go from thinking to doing. descending now. Board in arm, door opens with the flick of the wrist and just like that, I'm outty. Deck on ground I put my best foot forward and ram it onto the hard cement to push myself forward. Sorry foot, betrayals sure do suck.

School begins, in class siting in a chair. All day, several hours. Ah, the beloved system at work. Great to know that there are adults who "work" all day by keeping kids seated in a chair. Very progressive, America. Library break? I think so. On my laptop, I pull out webpages on the pocketed---the word reminds me of 'closeted---bracelet. NOW I'm imagining a gay bracelet. hilarious. Great. Typing 'Gay Bracelet' into the search bar and am getting rainbow plastic bands. Ya know, the ones that they sell at Hot Topic during pride month.

"Damn, I'm getting sidetracked" She mutters to herself. Imagine if life were a story being told by some omnipotent force? omnipresent? Think that's the word.

With a bit of typing and a bit of focus. Swift movement of hunched fingers. All is complete, then some. Ogdle: "common of the Azande warriors were pieces to signify their status such as septum tusks, mouth disks, necklaces and other adornments. Bones and tusks were common materials of such articles."

Crazy how this history is hidden. Power was taken from us and buried so deep. We're the originals but every piece of history buried underground. Hidden, secretive Big Bad America. Tale fit for young people all over. Democracy, boo yah.

Train whistle blowing through the air. No train nearby, just the sound of a change in the block. I put it all away, sweep it into my bag. Everything is so messy, so fast. On schooldays like this, it feels hard to even take time to breathe. But I get by since the system wants me to. Think I'm going to skip. Not that the next two classes even matter in the long run. "Such a poor black baby, representing her race so poorly". Yeah yeah. Not the black chick that highschools would put on a recruiting card.

Just another push....door after door falling at my fingertips. The same once that touch the coarse sandpaper of my board. Foot on, foot off. kick once, twice, thrice, now we surf the cement. Now it's time to visit good the kind old black woman who practices witchcraft on dolls. That's what you'd think right? No, they're native and keep old customs within the community. Everyone calls them---agender--- Sage. Nonbinary native americans are actually more common than people think.

Before selling the bracelet to some old rich white drudge of society, I wanna be sure that the bracelet can be cleansed first. I mean. To give away black history to the white man? Hellll no with multiple "l's". It is a pretty long ride there, even on a board. Rumbly road. Pebbles everywhere. Thousands of little rocks acting as smaller wheels vying to fling me off. It's too much.

Mumbling of my own. "Where's gentrification when you need it?" Alright, yes I get it. It's a bad joke. Of course gentrification is bad. Blah blah. Time to pick up my skateboard I guess. Walking on this ground feels just as bad as suicide. Feaful of getting my ass flung into the afterlife. Few yards left....or at least fifty feet. Forty eight, forty five, forty-however-long.

Ended up reaching it after twenty minutes. This trip better be worth it.

"Hi there, Miss Sage. Mind checking out this bracelet for me? I need to check it for a curse or evil energy. My cheap father didn't give me enough for a full appraisal but what can you do with nine dollars?"

"For nine? Not much, doll? What was your name again? You look young, do you have an adult's approval for this?"

"Oh, right. You've got me. It's for a school project. School each student a historical object to research. I figured you'd be able to help me get an 'A' on the project, you know?"

"Your manners are lacking but you seem young, so I'll let you pass. Allow me to take a look at it, if you please?"

God. Full-fledged adults really are something else. I'm only eighteen, not eight. Guess I look younger than I am----

Sage starts burning this wood that's tied with string. Incense maybe?

"That incense?"

"It's a closed practice really, so I don't want to expose anything. But it is a form of incense that I prefer to use to cleanse the spirit of objects and areas."

"Ah, didn't mean to intrude. I'm glad that there are still practices that you keep to yourself. Nothing like the White Man stripping us of our culture."

I got a soft chuckle out of them. Glad that they're able to lighten up a bit.

"..."

"OK, so here's what I've found. There's immense energy here; the power coming off of this thing is tremendous. There's nothing negative about this piece. How'd you ever come across it, again? School, you said? Shame that you'll have to give it back. Something like this would provide a large power surge to spirituals. I'd pay a pretty penny for this."

"Mhm"

"Wonder how the school even came across this. I tell you what. Ask your school where I can find something like this and perhaps I'll give you a little something for your intel, huh?"

"Oh. Sure. I'll just--uh---"

"Right, right, right. The bracelet, I'm sorry. Really, it's more an anklet truly, but--ya know what? I'm sorry. Here ya go"

"...take it from ya. Thanks."

"No problem. Come back with more info on the anklet. That'll be your payment for my time"

Got 'caught in a lie it seems. Don't know how I'll snake my way out of this one.

"Brrrrrzzzzz"

Shit, it's five. My dad's probably looking for me.

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

Chapter two:

" You skipped class? Bee, I know that you're better than this."

God moms bitch too much. Must be the nursing job coupled with her daily acting gigs that make her so aggro.

"I hear ya, mom. I just had some research to conduct after school..."

"Research? Which kind---?"

"The school kind. I don't know what else you want me to say. I'm sorry for skipping lasses. I got too overzealous and went in over my head. It won't happen again."

"Tskk. Better not. I know that I'm gone almost every hour of the day, but please give me a break, baby. Please just listen to your father and follow the rules. All I ask."

"Mhm, even though he-----you know what, nevermind. Am I dismissed? I have to write up today's school report to type"

Phew. Gonna hit the bong now to calm down from this encounter.

Fuck homework. .... ..... Mhm.

Five minutes passs. Fifteen, twenty. Maybe not minutes. hours? seconds? Time is too funny. With LEDs on, the vibe is fatallll. Still have to open a window to let out the smoke but gosh is this magical.

Mhm magic. Does it even exist? Doubt it. It's all science, right? ....

.....

Right. Like, this anklet. Not real power. Not real magic. Just something people believe in. Like God. It's all faith.

"So, theoretically, I could even put it on my person and nothing would even happen"

"And, so it begins"

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT VOICE" and why am I screaming?

Get off, get off, get off! Something's dripping on me.

"Tears, they're tears"

Oh god, I fucked up. I knew that I shouldn't have smoked that much. Knew it'd bite me in the ass one day. Now I'm fear-crying. I NEVER FEAR CRY.

It's all a dream maybe. Go to sleep, Bee. Just take a weed nap.

"Ba ba bang"

A booming voice raspy from coffee withdrawal.

"Everything OK in there Bee? You're about to be late for school."

Shit!

No time for conversation. Move it move it move it.

"'Cmon Bee. I'll drop you off at school on my way to the college".

Bookbag? Check. Board? Check.

I feel the rush of air against my cheeks as I fly out the door and jump into the getaway car. Fast, but atleast I'm not Furious. Dad and I chat it up all the way until the tires cross the smooth pavement of school grounds. Departing words are exchanged along with "I love you's" and "knock 'em deads".

That familiar sound. Principal as the school conductor. "Chooo". Just as it drones, my body moves to the steps of teens dragging their feet toward their dreaded first classes of the day. The light of morning cradles the marble arches of the school entrance until the sun starts to suck in the morning cold to blow out midday warmth.

"So, who are you, voice? What's your angle? Typing ensues. The screen watches my fleeting pupils; left, right, side, side. Wouldn't be surprised if the computer got whiplash from me. One scroll, two, three. Read a page. Nothing. Another website. Up and down; my fingers are cramped now. Nada. New Oogdle search: "Can I hear voices with weed smoking." Now I have a hit; "yes weed can have you seeing voices. Many aren't even your own. Maybe lay off the TV for a while."

"Thanks 'BouncyNina29'. Quora is one hell of a place." Guess it must've just been the drugs then. Hilarious, me hearing some voice. "Gotta lay off the bong smoking".

"Shhh!!" Some nerd in a striped beanie raised a finger to pursed lips.

Sorry, sorry....Jeez. "My bad" You know what? Maybe I can visit----

the train whistle interrupts my 11pm "ball" with myself. "Dammit". OK. Maybe I can bribe one of the delinquents behind the school to take my place in English. Teacher's not there anyway; the sub won't know the difference. Time to go pay someone off.

"..."

"Here ya go, five dollars."

"A'ight and you said what room that English class in?"

"301 B man. It's at the end of the third floor, right wing. Hard to miss and---remember---my name is Maybel Rhodes. Just fake like you're doing some work and no one will even notice that you're not me. I'm a loner, so, that'll work."

"Mhm hmm. I hear ya Maple"

"MayBEL"

"Yeah, that's what I said"

Scoff. In a smooth curvular motion, I plant my feet on the board and race to Sage's before their store closes.

As I approach, they're putting a silver key in a lock. Gah! The store closed.

"Miss Sage---"

"Gah! Don't do that!! Scaring me and sh--I mean, 'crap'. Scaring me and crap. Look kid, I'm closed right now but we open tomorrow. By then, I'll have the energy to discuss your school's anklet with you. Actually, about that. Do you have intel on where the-----"

"Yes, yes. About that, see...I lied. I didn't really get it from the school. I found it on the ground somewhere."

"'Found it on the ground somewhere' is code for 'I don't have money to pay nor do I have anything else to provide'? Am I getting warmer?"

"Look Miss Sage, I'm really sorry. Hey---look at it this way. I'm in debt to you. If you'll just help me with one teensy little thing, I'll ask my dad for some food money and will give you every cent he gives, alright?"

"Kid, that's not how an adult runs a business. Call what I gave you yesterday a 'freebie'. You're banned from the store. Good night."

Wait. "Wait" Their stride is aimed toward their silver camry. Yeah, I know a camry. Did you expect them to be riding a horse? Racist. Sage acts as though they don't hear and gets into their seat, key in ignition. One twist away before exiting the rocky parking area.

"IT SPOKE TO ME" Yup. That is how I yelled it. All caps, woke some birds up even. Just like in those Loony Toon cartoons. Is that why they're called "Loony Toons" 'cause they're loony cart----

Now they exit their car, slamming the heavy metal door. "What did you say? It...SPOKE...to you? What do you mean 'it'?"

Mhm Mhm. Just prepping my throat. "I wore it on my ankle and I heard a voice that has never existed before in the chasms----"

"Stop the theatrics"

"....Chasms of my mind. It was a male. Around your age in old-timey-ness."

"Har har."

"But it's the truth!" Why won't they believe a magical voice but insist that sage, a random plant, purifies the air?

Their chest contracts and expands in a sigh. Sage closes their eyes for a second. I could practically smell the gears turning. Need some WD-40, really. "Fine. Come by the store Saturday. That way, no one will be in to eavesdrop."

"Deal!"

"And bring actual MULA this time or else we won't have our little discussion". Crud.

"...."

"What are you thinking Sage?" No response. I paid one hundred fifty dollars for this after BEGGING both my folks (who think I'm using it to enroll in some after school sport) to slide me some cash so that I can 'better myself as an individual and actually do something with my time as well'. Lies are no good.

"Shh! Let me think, please!" Sage subverts their attention from me back onto the tarot cards laid in front of them----exactly where the bone anklet (bonklet) lay in silence

Ten minutes pass before Sage gives me the break down. "So, as I've said before. The anklet carries some heavy energy, something similar to passion and justice. Very potent stuff. That's what the spirit realm is saying, anyway. When you were---ahem--- HIGH----"

At this point I look away

"...You honed into that energy and that's why you heard the voice"

"Hm. So, how do I hone in on that energy now? Is it something I can control conscious?"

"Look, I dunno kid. Just, be safe. Meditate beforehand so that you are actually able to chime into the anklet's power source. Don't want to darken the talisman's power or anything."

"Sure, sure" I am literally out the door before Sage utters the second part of their sentence. I buzz with excitement at the opportunity and the best part is? I'm basically a super! Hoo ho. This is awesome.

There's an empty industrial facility near by Hawesome Li Cosmetics. It went bankrupt several decads ago. I'm pretty much the only one who knows about the place. Excellent ground to skate on---smooth as butter. Either way, it's empty and no harm will come to anything or anyone nearby. Any damage that I do will be to the building nearby, which no one cares about anyway. "So, it's just me and you buddy." Blunt in hand, I blaze it up. "Time for the magic to happen."

It's a slow high. The high takes as long as a flame reaching the wooden stick of an incense rod for the high to hit. Upwards of thirty minutes. So I wait. It feels like time warps. So I meditate. So I clear my thinking and reach out to the anklet.

"Mhm, Anklet, tell me who you are?"

"What?? You can hear me?"

"Yeah man. Who are you, why you speaking to me?"

"Why would I tell you? I don't even know yer name"

Tiring. It's like talking to a wall.

"Hey, I heard that!"

"Maybel. My name's Maybel. What's yours? Let's start there."

"Nat."

"Like Nat Turner? The rebel slave?"

"Don't know who that is, this 'Nat Turner'. Just knew my master gave me the name." How progressive. "So...I suspect that I'm dead."

It's not easy news. I get it. But hey, the north won. That's something, right?

"Well, I guess it is....you know, I had a name before all of this...."

"......"

"......??"

"......."

So, are you going to tell me?

"You may call me 'Asim'."

"I'll call you Ase."

Don't call me 'Ase'. Too late, Ase. Hey, how old are you anyway? 12? 11? My name is ASIM, nothing else. Fine, grumpy. ASIM. I'll call you Asim, Asim. Where'd that name come from anyway? What does it mean?

"Let's find out, shall we?"

"...It feels electric! (Boogy woogy woogy). Such power, this wade in...glory."

Are you a God?

"Blasphemy!" Then what are you? How are you able to lay such energy unto me?

Look, I don't know either, alright? But what I do know is...we're both negr---

Black. We don't say that word anymore.

"Black, then... Perhaps I'm connected with you due to our shared skin?" We stopped being related millenia ago. Millenia? Not familar with that word.

"Long, long ago. We don't share any common ancestors. It was all a lie." A lie? You don't believe in a God? I'm moreso spiritual; creation is a possibility not something I'm invested in. I believe in forces of the universe. "But not a God? So, this can't be some spiritual connection. We're too different." So perhaps a soul connection? A link between our spirits.... What else do we have in common? A slave and a black kid?

"Hatred of the white man? Wanting justice against them?"

"War. Destruction"

"Yes."

"No, I don't want that. I'd prefer peace." There may be no PEACE without WAR.

"A lie. Violence is not the answer. Kindness is."

"'Kindness' doesn't resolve problems. 'Kindness' doesn't end racism. 'KINDNESS' was the one that slept at my feet while I was lashed! "

"..."

Asim?

"..."

Andddd you're gone. Great. Well, I'm going to head back home, then. We can hang out again tomorrow. "Head back" means leave. All right, see you.

[artificialqueens]

Lemon's Misadventures in Dating, Chapter 3 (Lemon x Everyone) - Mermelada

A/N Hi everyone, I’ve been sitting on this chapter for a wee while but couldn’t quite get it right, so I hope this will do! Lots of love to you all!

As soon as Lemon had arrived home after her date with Kyne – at 9 o’clock the following morning – she flopped onto her bed and checked her phone. She opened the app to be greeted with a number of new messages.

[08:48] Hope you got home safe baby, please try not to fall in love with me now xx

The first one she read, from Kyne, made her chuckle, she’d actually had a really, REALLY good time last night. It turned out that there was actually a very easy way to get the girl to stop talking. Kyne had every reason to be cocky, and Lemon hadn’t been made to feel so good for a very long time. She had even managed to go a couple of hours without thinking of her. Speaking of her, they still hadn’t matched, which was definitely for the best, as Lemon didn’t think she could stand the inescapable mutual awkwardness if they did. But then did that mean that Juice had swiped left on her? Deciding to stop the mental tennis before it got out of hand, she pulled up the bottom message on her list, from yesterday.

[16:04] Bonjour hi, Miss Lemon! Tu parles français? Or am I needing to practice my English? :-) 

Rita. From her profile, she looked every bit the no-shit-taking dom top with a major mommy’s little girl kink, but her message was kind of sweet. The fact she had even bothered to check what language Lemon spoke was cute, she supposed, but she crossed her fingers that Rita had an edge and wasn’t all politeness and niceties. Now that Lemon had had her first taste of Tinder hook-ups, she was ready to dive in with no fear. Well maybe just a tiny bit of fear. She quickly typed out a reply, partly assisted by the internet, and sent it off.

[09:09] I’m assuming you don’t count ‘voulez-vous coucher avec moi’ as proper French 😉

Is it completely cliché and unoriginal? Yes. Has Rita probably already received hundreds of messages saying the same thing? Yes. But I’m tired and still feeling fucked out, so it’ll do. If she likes me, she’ll bite. Hopefully for real, soon…

Following on, she finally had a reply from Kiara.

[19:20] Hi girlie! I am SO sorry for replying so late, I have been working all day and all night this week ☹️ but seeing your profile made me feel better 🙂 how are you??

Double-checking quickly in case she’d missed something important, she realised that the girl’s profile didn’t say what she did as a job, so that seemed like a good place to start.

[09:13] Don’t worry at all, hon! But I’m glad I can help 😉 I’m doing okay thanks, and u? What do you do for work? x

Is a kiss on the end too forward or too friendly, she pondered, trying to remember if she’d done the same for Rita and Kyne before her. It’s done now, I’ll soon find out, I guess!

[23:56] You’re named after the wrong fruit, because you’re definitely a fineapple

The third message was from Boa, who she must have matched with during the night. She loved it. She wanted it on a cross-stitch, framed above her bed. She’d definitely made the right choice with this girl. Now, how to match her at her own game… 

[09:15] You udderly impressed me with that one!

As soon as it had sent, Lemon was hit with a massive wave of self-doubt: what if Boa didn’t get the pun and just thought she was weird? She’d always thought she was quite funny, but what if that was all a lie? There was still time to rectify it.

[09:15] Because of the cow costume, get it?

[09:15] It’s so cute!!!

[09:16] You seem really fun 😀

[09:16] And it helps that your hot

[09:16] You’re^ 

Shit shit shitting shit, that is way overboard for a reply. What the fuck have I done? Oh dear lord, well Boa, it was nice knowing ya! I don’t blame you for blocking me and running to the hills!

Some more general swiping ensued as Lemon awaited some replies, she started aimlessly swiping again through the single ladies of Ontario.

Scarlett, 29

Within 10 miles

Hmm, she looks like she has a bit of filler in those lips but she still looks hot, I like her tattoos, and HOLY SHIT SHE’S EATING FIRE fuck yeah, okay Scarlett! I’ll take that!

Ilona, 25

Within 10 miles

Okay I love her make-up, I love her style… all her photos are selfies, does that mean she has no friends? Don’t be silly, Lem, my camera roll is full of selfies and I’m just fine. I think. Hey, Ilona!

Starzy, 38

Within 10 miles

Oh wow, she’s hot. Her bio literally says, “Call me mother”. That has to be the hottest thing I have ever read, yes please!

After a few more likes and dislikes, Kiara’s name lit up at the top of her screen. Not wanting to seem too keen, she waited a monumental thirty seconds before checking the message.

[09:22] I work on a movie set, but nothing glamorous, I help with hair and makeup. It pays my rent 🙂 I am pretty tired today but I have a deadline soon so I have to keep writing ☹️ where do you work? x

Just as she was thinking of the best way to word her current, work-less situation, a reply also came in from Rita, which Lemon accidentally clicked on sooner than she meant to, completely blowing her cool façade.

[09:25] I’ve never heard that one before…

Lemon’s heart sank at the thought of her impending rejection, but a new message arrived seconds later.

[09:25] At least look up how to say it less formally, I’m not that old!!!!

Smiling at the thought of Rita not automatically hating her – not outright rejecting her – Lemon started to type a reply, but stopped when a third message appeared.

[09:26] Mais si je dis oui, es-tu vraiment libre ce soir? ;-)

Somehow, the more Lemon stared at the words, the less sense they made. She now severely regretted passing her time in French class admiring Madame Benet’s assortment of leopard-print clothing, rather than actually learning. But there was a winky face at the end, which made her heart race, even without understanding the rest of it. Highlighting the text and taking it straight to Google, she couldn’t help but bite her lip as she got Rita’s point.

[09:30] Wee wee, madame 💛 give me a place and a time xx

As much as she may have been looking forward to a good night’s sleep tonight, she still felt the swarm of butterflies flap around her tummy at the thought of Rita’s hands on her, telling her she was a good girl… Don’t get carried away yet, dummy, save it for tonight! I need a cold shower if I’m going to survive the next few hours. Before jumping into action mode, though, the first thing Lemon needed was a nap.

Rousing awake a few hours later, she padded downstairs to make herself a sandwich and a tea, continuously checking her phone with the hope tha Rita had replied. Met with silence, she then took her time to shower, deep conditioning her golden blonde hair and shaving everywhere she could, so she could at least feel better prepared than she had yesterday. Not that a grown-up adult lady like Rita would mind, of course, but it’s all part of getting in the zone, Lemon hummed to herself as she let the water wash away any anxiety she might have had about tonight. 

She already knew what underwear she would wear: her favourite black bra with a light furry trim around the cup, and a lacy black thong. She was so sure that Rita was on the same page about how the night would end, she felt like she didn’t have to worry too much about what went over it, opting for indigo skinny jeans and a beige polo-neck. By the time she had finished her makeup, it was almost 5pm, and she still didn’t know the plan. Sitting up on her bed, contemplating how she would explain to her parents that she was spending the night out again, she once again opened the app, hoping that Rita hadn’t backed down. With still no reply, she couldn’t help the frustration which bubbled inside her, she didn’t spend so long stretching to shave the backs of her thighs for nothing! Even more discouraging was the lack of reply from Kiara… until she looked at the last message sent, and realised that she’d unwittingly left the poor girl on read.

Shit, I thought I’d replied already! That explains it… now how to explain that I’m a dancer who doesn’t dance anymore and has moved back in with my parents with no ambition to find anything else anytime soon?

[16:58] You’re a busy lady! What do you study? 😊

[16:59] I’m a dancer, currently hopping from audition to audition, hoping somebody likes me enough!

The reality was that Lemon hadn’t attended any auditions for over a month. She had tried to throw herself into her work after the break-up, but had soon realised that with a broken heart came an enormous lack of drive. She told the contemporary company she was a member of that she needed a break, and they told her to not bother coming back. So here she was, hoping that one day she’d once again wake up with a flame inside of her. Luckily, Kiara didn’t push her to expand on anything just yet.

[17:04] So a bit like Tinder then! Don’t worry, I’m sure lots of people will like you enough… in dance and Tinder!

[17:05] I study film and theatre, it’s fun 🙂 but a lot of essays to write in English which takes me forever lol

[17:06] That makes me sound like an idiot!! I promise I’m not, just Québéquoise!! 

[17:06] Are you from Toronto? 🙂

Well at least if tonight doesn’t go ahead, I’ve still got a French option for the future, she sighed, running her fingers through her hair as she thought of an answer. 

[17:08] Haha, I believe you 😉 my dad is from Portugal, but I think there are 2 year olds who speak better Portuguese than I do 🥺 

[17:08] That sounds super interesting! Your job on the side must help a bit then?

[17:08] And I am, Toronto gal born and bred! How long have you lived here?

Just as she was about to put her phone down for the evening and fall into another nap, the message she’d been waiting for finally arrived, and Lemon found herself scrambling to read it.

[17:09] Sorry, lovely Lemon, work was kicking my ass all day. Does Mado’s at 8pm work for you? X

Lemon couldn’t resist one final reply, cementing her intentions.

[17:10] Sounds great, I’m sure I can help that ass feel better 😘 see you soon!! 💛💛

A/N It’s me again, your friendly neighbourhood translator!

“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?” - Do you want to sleep with me tonight?

“Mais si je dis oui, es-tu vraiment libre ce soir?” - But if I say yes, are you really free tonight?

[starspangledbanner27]

**CHAPTER UPDATE – Chapter 3 posted**

Fandom: Saving Mr. Banks (AU)

Description: AU take on the movie, exploring what might have happened if the author of the Mary Poppins books had been someone very different from P. L. Travers.  For Carrie Schultz, the chance to collaborate with Walt Disney Studios to bring Mary Poppins from the page to the screen is a dream come true.  However, matters grow complicated when animated penguins prove to be a point of contention, a friendly working relationship turns into more than she bargained for, and Carrie struggles to prevent Walt’s team from discovering her own hidden afflictions.

Characters: Carolina “Carrie” Schultz (OC), Don DaGradi, Walt Disney, Richard M. Sherman, Robert B. Sherman, Ralph

Rating: T

Genre: Drama/Romance

Language: English

Read on Fanfiction.net, AO3, Wattpad, Quotev, or below.

A big thank-you to those who read Chapter 2 and messaged me to comment! Your support means the world.  I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this new part! :)  

In this chapter, we get to see some of Ralph (yay!); and then in Chapter 4, the rest of the canon characters will make their entrances . . . so stay tuned, because things are about to get interesting!  

Chapter 3

As we waited for our plane to taxi up to the gate, I stared out the window, thinking of Disney and Mary Poppins and trying not to think of coughing fits and chest pains.  At last we arrived, and suddenly everyone was standing up and rummaging through the overhead compartments and pushing and shoving and jostling their way out. Somehow amidst all the chaos I managed to grab my carry-on bag, thank the stewardess, and exit the plane without getting knocked over.  Then, having accomplished that, I made my way through the jet bridge and emerged into Los Angeles International Airport.  

A little distance from the gate, I paused to catch my breath before attempting to locate the baggage claim.  As I stood there watching the crowds of people swarm in twenty different directions, I felt a hand on my shoulder.  “Excuse me.”

I turned to see a young redheaded woman in a pink dress holding a toddler in her arms, and I recognized her as the passenger who’d been sitting directly in front of me during the flight.  “Yes?” I answered.

Her eyes probed mine with concern.  “Forgive me for asking this; it's probably none of my business, but . . . I thought I heard you crying a few times during the trip, and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

I could feel the blood rush to my face as my eyes widened with embarrassment.  “I was . . . crying?”  She nodded. “Oh dear,” I stammered.  “I-I hope I didn’t disturb anyone.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that; it’s you I’m concerned about. Is everything all right?”

“Y-yes—I mean, it is now.  I just . . . I fell asleep on the plane ride and started having nightmares.  But I’m fine now.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she sympathized.  “Nightmares are terrible.”

I shook my head.  “It’s fine, really.  But thank you for asking.”

An awkward pause ensued; and not knowing what else to do, I made a show of scanning the airport as if I were looking for someone. At last I turned back to the young woman, who was still standing there.  “Well . . . I should get going.  My ride will probably be here any minute if it isn’t already, and I still need to pick up my luggage.”

“Oh, actually, that’s just where I was headed next. Do you mind if I walk with you?” she asked.

“No, not at all,” I replied, and so the two of us set off in the direction of the baggage claim.  Since we were walking along together, I figured I might as well make conversation.  “So, what brings you here to Los Angeles?” I asked.

“I’m visiting my brother and his family,” she said with a smile.  “His wife is about to have their third child, and I’m here to help out.  My husband was planning to come along too, but he had a last-minute business thing come up, so he’ll be joining us in a few days.”

“Ah,” I said.  “Well, congratulations to your brother and his wife.  Are they excited?”

“Oh, yes.  So are the kids; they can’t wait to meet their new baby brother or sister. And I’m looking forward to having another little niece or nephew to spoil.”  She threw me a mischievous grin.  “And what about you?” she asked.  “What brings you to Los Angeles?”

“I’m . . . here on business.”  I didn’t feel like getting into all the details.

“Oh?  What kind of business?” she inquired.

“Um—well, I guess you could call it book business.”

“Oh, are you an author?”

“Well . . . yes,” I confessed, smiling modestly.

“Really?  Now that is a coincidence!” she remarked.  “You see, my brother works at Walt Disney Studios, in the animation department; and just a few weeks ago he was telling me that they’re having an author fly in this weekend to help work on their next movie . . . and now you’re here, too!  Isn’t that funny!”

I chuckled.  “Well, actually—”

“Ah, look; here we are!” she exclaimed.  Sure enough, the baggage claim was within sight, and we arrived just as it rumbled to life and started regurgitating suitcases. Having spotted hers amidst the bunch, my companion set her daughter down on the floor and turned to me.  “Could you keep an eye on her just long enough for me to grab my bag?”

“Certainly,” I replied.

“Thank you.”  She knelt down beside her little girl.  “Mommy’s going to get our suitcase, Patty, so you just stay here with this nice lady for a minute, all right?”

The girl—Patty—gave a solemn nod, stuck her thumb in her mouth, and sidled over close to me, but I heard her whimper a little as her mother stepped away.  I reached out and patted her back gently, and she snuck a shy sideways glance at me.  I smiled, and she turned away; but in the instant before she did so, I thought I glimpsed the tiniest hint of a smile on her face as well.  Just then, her mother returned.  

“Well, here we are!”  She had a suitcase in each hand; one was gray, and the other she held out to me.  “I saw this coming along the belt; is it yours?”

My mouth dropped open in surprise.  “Why, yes—how did you know?”

“It matches your carry-on,” she explained with a grin.

I laughed and reached out to take it.  “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome!  And thank you for watching Patty.”  She took her daughter’s hand and scanned the crowd for her brother.  “Oh, there’s Michael now!” she exclaimed at last.  Then she turned back to me.  “I have to go; but it was lovely talking to you—and, oh, I just realized I didn’t catch your name!”

I smiled.  “It’s Carrie.  Carrie Schultz.”

She smiled back.  “Nice to meet you, Carrie.  I’m Jill.” We set down our suitcases to shake hands, and then she picked hers back up.  “I hope I’ll see you around again sometime.  Best of luck with your book thing!”

“Thank you,” I replied.  “And good luck to you and your family with the new baby.”

“Thanks.  Well, goodbye!”  With yet another wide grin, she turned and started across the airport.

I chewed my lower lip thoughtfully for a moment before calling after her.  “Jill!”

She looked back at me.  

“Tell your brother and his wife I said hello!” I shouted over the hubbub.

She nodded, smiling.  “Will do!”  As they walked away, little Patty turned and lifted a chubby hand in farewell.  I waved back, and then the two of them disappeared into the crowd.

After they were gone, I stood there by the baggage claim looking around uncertainly.  I’d been told I would be picked up at the airport and driven to my hotel, but it wasn’t till that moment that I realized I had no idea whom to look for.  Just then, however, I happened to notice three men standing patiently in a row amid all the hustle and bustle, each one holding a small, square sign.  I approached them with curiosity, peering down to see what their signs said. 

The man on my left held a sign with the Warner Brothers logo printed on it, beneath which was written the name Credle.  The one in the middle bore a sign with the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer lion, and beneath it, the name Vogt.  The man on the far right held a sign that sported the smiling Mickey Mouse icon with the words Walt Disney Presents, underneath which was my own name—Carolina Schultz.  All together it read, Walt Disney presents Carolina Schultz.  I smiled at the pun.  “Oh, he does, does he?” I murmured to myself with amusement. 

“Schultz?  Carolina Schultz?” the man holding the sign addressed me with a bright smile. 

“Yes,” I affirmed. 

“Okay!  Well, welcome, Miss Carolina Schultz, welcome to the City of Angels!  Let me take your bags.  Oh, pardon me—I suppose I should introduce myself first.  My name’s Ralph; I’ll be your driver while you're here in L.A.”  He was a short, kindly man in his mid-forties, with thinning hair, a round, pleasant face, and large black-rimmed glasses. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Ralph,” I replied, happily relinquishing my bags to him. 

“Pleasure’s all mine, Miss Schultz!  Car’s right out this way, if you’ll just follow me.”

Together we walked out from the cool, shady airport into the baking heat and blinding sunshine.  “The sun came out to say hello just to you,” he quipped cheerfully. 

“Or to melt me alive,” I muttered, already breaking out in sweat.  As I stood waiting for Ralph to unlock the car, a pungent odor accosted my nose.  “Do you smell that?” I asked after a few moments. 

He nodded, smiling.  “Jasmine.”

“Hmm.” More like chlorine and sweat, I thought to myself; but, not wanting to be rude, I refrained from saying anything.  Meanwhile, Ralph, who was still fiddling with the lock, glanced up apologetically. 

“Sorry for the wait, Miss Schultz; don't know why this thing’s being so contrary today.  Ah, there we go!” he exclaimed triumphantly as the lock finally yielded.  He extracted the key and pulled the door open for me. 

“Thank you,” I said as I climbed in. 

With a nod and a smile, Ralph shut the door and hurried around to the back of the car to put my suitcase and carry-on bag in the trunk. Then, having done that, he opened the front door and hopped into the driver’s seat.  “All right, Miss Schultz; off we go!”

We drove through the streets of Los Angeles, Ralph humming “Blue Suede Shoes” while I sat in the back seat gasping for air.  If the weather outside had been baking, then the inside of the car was positively stifling—the air so hot and thick I could barely breathe.  Eventually, in hopes of gaining some relief, I pulled out the little pocket notebook I kept in my purse and began vigorously fanning myself. Ralph must have noticed the movement, because he perked up his head and glanced at me in the rearview mirror.  “You all right back there, Miss Schultz?”

“Uh, it . . . it is a little hot,” I panted. 

“Oh—no problemo!  No problemo; we got a brand-new air conditioning system, Miss Schultz!” He reached down to press a button.  “There we go; that’ll fix ya right up.”

“Ahhh . . .” I sighed deeply as a wave of cool air coursed over me.  “Thank you.”

“No problemo,” he repeated with a smile.  “Boy, it sure is amazing, isn’t it, though?  A nice little breeze at the push of a button.  I tell ya, the things they can put in cars these days, gosh almighty!”  And on he went, chatting amiably about cars and weather and Los Angeles and California in general, until at last we arrived at the Beverly Hills Hotel, where I was to stay. 

“Well, here we are!” Ralph announced as we pulled up to the entrance.  He turned off the engine, hopped out of the car, and came around to open the door for me.

“Thank you,” I said as I stepped out onto the sidewalk.

“My pleasure entirely.”  He brought out my luggage and set it down beside me.  “You good to go from here?”

“I think so.”

“Well, all right then!”  He clasped his hands together in front of him.  “I’ll be here at 9:30 tomorrow morning to pick you up.”

I smiled.  “Excellent.  Thank you so much.”

He nodded, grinning, and then climbed back into the car and drove off.  Meanwhile, I picked up my suitcase and carry-on and headed for the door to the hotel, where a twenty-some-year-old bellboy intercepted me and offered to carry my luggage.  I gratefully accepted, and he took my bags and opened the door for me to walk through.  Then, after I checked in at the front desk, he escorted me upstairs, unlocked the door to my suite, and let me in. 

As the door swung open, I let out a gasp of amazement, for I saw that the couch, chair, coffee table, and just about every other surface in the room were piled with gift baskets and stuffed animals, and two large bunches of balloons had been tied to a display stand by the window.  “Whoa,” I breathed. 

I was still recovering from my shock when I heard a low whistle beside me.  “Holy jeepers,” the bellboy remarked, then caught himself.  “Pardon my slang, ma’am; it’s just . . . wow.  Looks like someone sure is happy to have you here.”

“Indeed,” I murmured as I walked in.  The bellboy followed me through the doorway, and then he took the lead and I followed him into the adjoining room; but we both stopped short at the sight of a giant plush Mickey Mouse perched on the bed.  My jaw dropped in surprise, but immediately I heard Mary Poppins’s voice in my head—“Close your mouth, please, Carolina; we are not a codfish!”—and I promptly snapped it shut.  

Meanwhile, after a brief moment of gaping, the bellboy recovered himself enough to set my bags down on the bed.  I expected he would leave after having done so, but instead he began to unzip my suitcase.  “Um, excuse me—what are you doing?” I asked. 

He looked up at me, his face the very picture of innocent perplexity.  “Don't you want me to unpack for you, ma’am?”

A little taken aback by the idea of his handling my clothes, I fixed him with a skeptical stare.  “Is this something you do for all the guests?”

“Yes, ma’am—just one of the many services we provide here to enhance the comfort and satisfaction of our visitors.”  He rattled off this speech as if he’d memorized it straight from the brochure—which, for all I knew, he probably had—and I couldn’t help chuckling to myself. 

“I see.  Well, thank you for the offer, but I’d prefer to unpack my own bags.”

He nodded and stepped away from the bed.  “Of course, ma’am; as you like.  Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, I think I can take it from here.  Thank you very much for your assistance.”  I opened my purse and pulled out a tip, but he politely refused it. 

“Oh, that’s not necessary, ma’am.”

“I insist,” I countered.  “Take it and buy yourself an iced Coke or something.” 

For a few moments he stared hesitantly at the money in my hand, but at last he reached out and accepted it.  “Thank you, ma’am.”  He made his way to the door and paused just before stepping out into the hallway.  “Now, if you need anything, ma’am, just ring the front desk; there’s a phone right there on the bedside stand.”

“Thank you; I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You sure there’s nothing else I can do for you?”

I was about to say no, there was nothing else; but after a moment’s thought, it hit me.   “Actually, there is something you can do.”  I opened my purse again, pulled out the two letters I had written earlier, and handed them to him.  “Could you please have these mailed?”

“Certainly, ma’am.  Anything else you need?”

I shook my head.  “I believe that's all.”

“Well, all right then.  You have a good day, ma’am, and enjoy your stay here at the Beverly Hills Hotel.”  With something between a nod and a bow, he exited the room.  Once the door closed behind him, I let out a sigh, relieved to be done for a while with all that ma’am-ing. Then I proceeded to unpack my suitcase while Mickey Mouse looked on, grinning.

Exhausted as I was from the day’s events and . . . well, everything else, it took me the better part of an hour to get everything out of my bags and into its proper place in the room; and by the time I’d finished, I was ready for another nap.  However, I remembered that I still had to call my sister to inform her of my safe arrival; so I sat down on the edge of the bed, picked up the phone, and dialed. 

It rang only once before being answered.  “Hello; Keatons’ residence.”

“Hey, Sam.”

“Carrie!  How are you?  Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.  I just wanted to let you know the trip went well, and I’m at my hotel now.”

“Oh, thank heaven!” she exclaimed, then quickly corrected herself.  “I-I mean, great. That’s wonderful.”  I could tell she was trying to sound calm and composed, but I still heard in her voice a note of relief, as though a weight had been lifted off her chest.  At last she took a deep breath and went on.  “Well, how was the plane ride?  Anything special?”

“It was good,” I replied.  “I mean, I slept through most of it; but the seats were comfortable, and no one was smoking.”

“Oh, good.  And everything else went well?  You found your ride easily?”

“Yeah, no trouble there.”

“And your room is nice?”

“Yes, it’s lovely—and loaded with gifts.”

“Gifts?”

“From Disney.  Apparently he’s eager to make a good impression.”

She laughed. “Well, I’m glad everything’s working out so far.”

“Yeah.  How are things back home?”

“Oh, pretty much the same as always . . . though James will tell you I’ve been a mess since you left.  Now that I know you got there safely, maybe I’ll finally be able to relax.”

I smiled and shook my head.  “You’re just like Mom.”

She laughed again, but this time it was a small, sad laugh.  “Yeah.”  There was a pause, and then her voice came more quietly than before.  “She’d be so proud of you, Carrie.  She and Dad both.”

Immediately a lump sprang up in my throat.  I did my best to gulp it down.  “You . . . you think so?”

“I know so.”

I swallowed a second time.  “Thanks,” I whispered, not trusting my voice. 

After another pause, Sam spoke.  “Well, I guess I ought to let you go so you can start getting ready for tomorrow.”

I nodded.  “Okay.”

“Are you all right, Carrie?  You sound tired.”

“Well, it’s been a long day.”

“Are you sure that's all?”

“Sam . . .”

“I’m just looking out for you, sis.”

“I know, Sam; and I appreciate it, I really do.  But the fact is I’m here now, and I’m going to be here for three weeks whether you worry about me or not, so you might as well stop worrying.”

She sighed.  “I guess you’re right.”

“I’ll be fine, Sam.  Really.”

“Yeah—yeah, okay.  I’ll call you tomorrow evening?”

I smiled.  “Sounds great.”

“All right then.  I love you, sis.”

“Love you, too.”

“’Bye for now.”

“’Bye.”

I hung up the phone and turned to Mickey.  “We can make it through this, can’t we?”

He smiled at me.

I gave a satisfied nod.  “I knew you’d agree.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Mouse, I need this space to rest.”  I moved him to the side and stretched out on the bed in hopes of getting some sleep . . . but the instant I lay down, my mind was bombarded by a whirlwind of what-ifs.  What if I hate what they’re doing to my story? What if they hate my critiques?  What if it all ends up being a disaster?!

At last, after about twenty minutes of tossing and turning, I sat up and looked at Mickey again.  “Well, this isn’t working.  Any suggestions?”  

He just smiled.  

I let out a sigh of frustration.  “I guess you might as well have your seat back,” I said to him as I slid off the bed and meandered into the other room.

With no hope of falling asleep anytime soon and no energy to do anything that involved leaving my hotel room, I decided to have a look at all the gifts that were lying about.  Besides the Mickey Mouse balloons, there were stuffed-animal versions of popular animated Disney characters—Mickey, Minnie, Pluto, Donald Duck, Chip ’n’ Dale, and Winnie the Pooh—as well as several large baskets laden with treats, including books, candy, a Mickey Mouse ears headband, and—ugh—champagne.  

Out of all these presents, one in particular caught by eye.  It was another basket; but unlike the others, it was smaller and more elegant, almost boat-like in shape.  Its handle sported a large green ribbon, and the basket itself was laden with all kinds of fruit: apples, oranges, bananas, grapefruits, and—

“Pears.”  With a tremulous hand, I reached down, picked one up, and held it, gently caressing its smooth green skin.  “Pears . . .”

“Pears!” I exclaim.  “My favorite!  What’s the occasion?”

Sam smiles.  “Oh, nothing in particular.  They just happened to be on sale, and I thought I’d pick some up for my baby sister, since she loves them so.”

“All right, what do I owe you for them?”

“Hmm, let me see . . . one hug, please.”

“Sam, I'm serious!”

“So am I!  Just because you live here and share expenses doesn’t mean I can’t buy you a special sister gift every once in a while.”

“Oh—thank you!”  I throw my arms around her, then pull away and pick up one of the golden-green fruits.  “May I . . .?”

She laughs.  “That's what I got ’em for.”

Without further hesitation, I bite into it.  The skin breaks easily, bathing my tongue in sweet, sticky juice.  “Mmmm . . .”  I chew slowly, savoring the ripe, rich taste and texture, and then at last I swallow and feel the fruit gently sliding down my throat. But suddenly, it catches; and before I know what’s happening, the chewed pear flies out of my mouth, followed by a fit of wild coughing.  I grasp the table.  My whole body tenses.  The pain is back, and this time it’s worse.  

Sam pats my back gently as I gasp for air between coughs.  “Carrie!  Carrie, are you all right?!”  I shake my head, unable to respond.  Fear courses through me—it’s getting harder to breathe. At last, mustering all my strength, I draw a deep breath and expel it in one deep, forceful cough . . . and with that, it’s over.  

I lean wearily against the table.  Every breath is shallow and painstaking, every thought a desperate prayer—Please don’t let it start again, please don’t let it start again.  My sister’s hand still rests on my back, and I see the concern in her eyes as she bends slightly to meet my gaze.  “Are you okay?” she asks.  I nod slowly. “What happened?”

I shake my head again.  “I don’t know.  I guess some pear juice started down the wrong way.”

She scrutinizes me closely.  “Are you in pain?”

“Just . . . just a little.”

“Where does it hurt?”

“In here,” I admit reluctantly, laying my hand on my chest.

“Okay . . . how about you sit down?”

I nod.  “That’s probably a good idea.”  

She pulls out a chair, and I lower myself onto it.  “Better?” she asks.

“Yeah.”  For the first time since the coughing fit, I dare to draw a deep breath.  It still hurts, but not as badly now.  My exhale is a sigh of relief.

I sit silently for several moments, with Sam watching me the whole time.  At last she lays her hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay now?”

I nod again.  “I think so.”

“All right.  I need to go do some ironing.  I’ll be in the laundry room if you need me.”

“Okay.”

After she leaves, I look down at the pear, which is still in my hand.  Do I dare try again?  It would be a shame to let such good fruit go to waste.  I raise it to my mouth and take another bite . . . but now I can barely taste it. It’s dry and grainy, hard to chew and hard to swallow.  I know it’s not really the pear; it’s me—but I still can’t bring myself to eat any more. Instead I just sit there, staring at it. Everything’s fine, I tell myself.  Everything’s fine.  But there’s a heaviness in the pit of my stomach.

I shook myself out of my daydream and set the pear back in the basket among the other fruits.  No sense dwelling on that now.  To distract myself, I sat down on the couch and surveyed the other items on the coffee table.  There was a glass dish full of candy, which, unlike the gift baskets, appeared to have been placed there by the hotel staff. I lifted the lid, took out a butterscotch, unwrapped it, and popped it into my mouth.  It tasted like sunshine—warm, rich, and golden.  As I sucked on it, my eyes landed on a small object between the candy dish and the fruit basket.  It was brown and shaped like an elongated box with two protruding black buttons on top. Curious, I picked it up and pressed one of the buttons just to see what would happen.

Suddenly the television across the room crackled and buzzed to life.  I jumped in surprise, at a loss to explain what had just happened.  Then it dawned on me: the object I held in my hand was a remote control.  I’d heard of such things, but I’d never seen one before��they weren’t standard issue in Cedar Rapids—and now that I had one in front of me, I was eager to see how it worked.  I pressed the other button, and the channel changed from Lassie to Lucy. Fascinated, I pressed it again, and an Alka-Seltzer commercial came on.

After several more channel switches, I still hadn’t found anything I wanted to watch, and the remote was beginning to lose its novelty.  But just when I was almost ready to give up and turn the television off, I pressed the button once more, and who should appear on the screen but the very man I had come all this way to meet.  “Ah!” I exclaimed quietly.  “There you are!”  I leaned back against the couch, watching.

He was standing behind a desk (in his office, I supposed), holding in his hand a small bell, which he shook briskly back and forth—yet there was no sound.  I had just started to search for the volume control when he gave a low chuckle. “Don’t worry,” he said.  “There’s nothing wrong with your television set. This is a pixie bell.  The sound is much too high for human ears.

“Oh!  There you are, Tink!” Walt exclaimed as the mischievous little fairy from Peter Pan flew into the room.  She hovered for a moment in midair before giving a dainty twirl and flying in a circle around him, showering him with sparkles and causing him to lift off the floor.  “He-hey!” he laughed and brushed at his jacket.  “Get that stuff off me!”  Still chuckling, he addressed the television audience again.  “You know, if you’re familiar with our story of Peter Pan, you know a little sprinkling of Tinker Bell’s fairy dust can make you fly.” Having managed to shake off all the dust, he landed back on the ground with a self-satisfied grin.  Then he turned to the fairy.  “Where you going, Tink?  Haven’t you forgotten something?”

What it was that Tinker Bell had forgotten I never did find out, for at that very moment my eyelids fell shut and didn’t reopen till several hours later.

Tag list… let me know if you want to be added or removed!  

@iwillalwaysreturm | @writings-of-a-narwhal | @24hourshipping

[chris-hattori]

Miraculous Ladybug Fluff Month

@miraculousfluffmonth

Ao3

Day 30: Trust

Ladybug, Chat Noir and Blue Bird

Is a usually day in Paris, with a not so usually Akuma. (future oneshot or how Ladybug and Chat Noir meet their future daughter)

Ladybug and Chat Noir, run over the roof of Paris. The Akuma alarm went off a half hour ago, when both, Marinette and Adrien study for their midterm.

Ladybug has to amid that to know each other secret identity, isn’t that bad anymore, actually she is really thankfully now, how on earth would she have explained Adrien why she has to run off so suddenly.

Both heros stopped in a secure distance from the new Akuma.

The obviously looking themed hero Akuma sit calmly a few roofs away from them. Leaning back on its hands, the blue dressed hero star into the sky, as if it is waiting for something.

“For how stupid take us Hawk Moth?” whispered Chat Noir to her “An other hero Akuma? As if we didn’t learn our lesson with Volpina”

“Of all miraculous he can use he chose the lost one” agree she.

But still something seems to be off with this one. It didn’t cause any trouble until now, no attacks nor yelling for their miraculous.

The Akuma lean forward to stand up, Ladybug can see now that it is a girl, a small one not taller than herself. She turns her head to them and froze, again not a usually Akuma move. Ladybug nod to her partner and move to the same roof as the Akuma.

“Okay, before you two yells at me” began the girl and raise her hands in defense “It was totally an incident that I got hit from the Akuma, Switcher was after Torture and the others need him and his Shield. I know that it isn’t an excuse for being reckless, but I really wasn’t I just try to protect my partner” with a sad puppy look of her green eyes behind the blue mask, she looks at Chat. “You understand what I mean right Papa?”

“Pa.. What” sheik Chat shocked, both flinch back, when the Akuma came closer.

The now good visibility Peacock prints over the end of her blue spandex suit, comfit Ladybugs suspect, it was a Peacock Akuma, the hair of the girl is covered from a hood. With wide eyes the Akuma looks at them

“Oh man, you two aren’t my parents” whispered she breathless.

Shaking up the shock Chat switch to into the fight modus and point with his baton at the enemy “What for a sick game are you playing here Akuma” surprised the girl looks over her shoulder and then back at them

“Me?” ask she unbelievable and point on herself, Chat let out a sarcastic snort

“I’m not an Akuma” said she with a giggle, and borrow light “Blue Bird at your service” the way her green eyes glare with mirth remains Ladybug a lot on her partner

“Sure and I’m a dog” reply Chat dry, Blue Bird roll her eyes

“Believe it or not I’m out of the future and got hitting by a time traveler Akuma, which I was fighting with my team”

Chat glare short at her, Ladybug bit unsure down on her lips, Blue Birds story made Sense without a daub, it explains too, why this Akuma isn’t fighting them, but Chat is right too Hawk Moth try to fool them once with a hero Akuma. Something what she said bit on her mind.

“Okay” said Ladybug and get a surprised view from both “If you aren’t an Akuma, why did you call Chat Papa?”

Blue Bird grimace “Can I skip this question?”

“That’s enough proof for me I’m going to fight you off!” Yells Chat, with a smooth back flip, Blue Bird brings some space between them and take her weapon. Immediately she tension her bow.

“I didn’t want to affect the future, but if you really need to know it, he is my father”

Ladybug hold her partner back, this girl is Adriens daughter? Well, they have the same eyes, the Peacock looks with a hard view at them, the arrow tremble light on the bow. She didn’t want to fight them. She is scared, no Akuma would be scared.

“Kitty I think she is telling the truth” Chat’s looks shocked at her

“Are you sure” Ladybug nod slowly, with a sigh Chat put his baton back, blue bird copy him and walks careful closer.

“Hey Blue Bird, I’m sorry we start the wrong way. I’m Ladybug and this is my partner Chat Noir” said she softly

“You are out of the future?”

Blue Bird nod, her brain catch with the rest of her words, and Marinette feels her cheeks growing hot. Blue Bird confused them with her parents, and already amid that Adrien is her father what would mean that she...

Blue Bird read the questioning her eyes, she throws back her hood, the sun let the tight back midnight black hair glam blue, like her really own. This is her child too, she and Adrien would have a child together.

Chat looks with wide eyes between them. “You, she, me?” stutter he out and point on them.

“Yes” said Blue Bird and relax “You told me, to not talking to strangers when I end up in the past and, to wait until you two pick me up. So can we agree that you two aren’t strangers for me? ”

Ladybug let out a soft laughter “Oh my god, Emma you are Emma right?” she giggles again

“Yea, I’m Emma uhm I don’t say now my full name, not that you get a heart attack” Ladybug tittle her head to the side

“I already know your last name”

Emma across her arms in front of her chest “Nobody has to know who we are! It’s your rule and you broke it.” Said she playful, Oh her daughter is a beauty, with Adriens green eyes and her drake hair, the way she smiles, God how can this be her child?

“Incident happen” murmur Ladybug softly, she can see a light blush on Blue Birds cheeks

“ Yea they happen, but in a good way” Ladybug smirk to her still shocked partner

“Kitty?” he looks with wide eyes at her

“She is our?” whispered he the blush on her cheeks came back immediately by his question.

“Looks like”

Slowly his confusion wash away, and he grabbed her by the waist and lift her into the air, to spinning them around

“We are going to have a child!” Yells he happily before he let her carefully down again “ Oh no are you okay, did I hurt you?” she looks with wide eyes at him, with a huff she punches his arm this idiot!

“You know that we aren’t like that” hiss she to him, Emma really didn’t need to know that they aren’t dating

“But we will” answer Adrien joyful and wiggle his eyebrows.

“I’m still here” said Blue Bird “And I really don’t want to know this stuff about you two”

Chat’s spinning on his heels and hug her “Oh of course my little Chatbug, Daddy is so sorry” Blue Bird let out an annoying sigh

“I’m not a baby either Papa” Chat lay his arm around her

“Of course not. So tell me how will we get to know your secret when you are following Mommys rules so stubborn” Marinette try to ignore the way her heart melt, when Adrien says Mommy. He is meaning her! Okay she can’t stop it even if she wanted it.

“Actually I need Mamans advice for something and I told her. I mean the only other person I want to tell knew it anyway”

“You trust her more than me?” ask he disappointed, Emma looks at her father

“It was girl stuff and besides you and Maman don’t have secrets from each other. You said that it was okay” Chat pulls her in a half full hug on his chest “its really okay” whispered he and press a soft kiss on her hair.

“Can I at last know about what you two talk?”

“About her boyfriend” said a deep voice amusing all three looks to the newcomer.

The man is two heads taller than Ladybug and looks incredible handsome even with the black mask covering his half face and the tight suit show off enough to make her knees go weak. As soon that she would see Tikki again, she would thank the tiny God for the good luck she gifts her with.

“Papa! He isn’t my boyfriend” Moan Blue Bird with deep red cheeks

“Your mother told me something different” Blue Bird walk to the older chat and across her arms

“No, apologies for want to fight me?” Chat ruffled tender over her hair

“Sorry Kitten, I trough you are an Akuma” Blue Bird roll her eyes and hug her father.

“Hate to interrupt you two” said a voice which sounds awful like her own. An older version of herself land next to them, she is only a head shorter than Chat Noir, the way she is going to mature suit her pretty well

“Damn I’m going to be really lucky” Whilst the younger Chat

“Hey keep your eyes on your own Bug” said the older offered.

With a grin Chat open his arms “That’s what I’m doing here” the older Chat looks to his Ladybug

“Thank you that you still love me, even when I was like that” Ladybug giggle softly “Come on you two let’s go home, where we will have a long talk about your behaviour young lady”

Emma looks up to her mother with a sad look “But I was just protecting him”

“Don’t try your Kitty eyes on me”

“What?” said Blue Bird touched “Mew? Never Chats honor I would never think of doing this Maman”

Marinette growl, her own daughter pun, she is going to have two of them. The older Chat looks over to them and whispered something to Ladybug, she nods with a smile

“Hey mini us, I know this all it’s a kind of confusing right now” began he “And I’m not saying that you two need to make your relationship happen right now”

“Oh, I do” interrupt her Chat the older. He shakes slowly his head and star at his younger self with a sigh he looks over his shoulder to his family

“Again thank you that you take pity on me” Ladybug laughs gently

“Adrien, just trust them, I’m sure we will do the right thing again” the older blond looks back at them

“I know, but still I love my life now and I love my family, so please make this all happen” he turns around and is almost by his family when he looks back at them

“And Marinette ?” she looks at him

“Please forgive me all this, you are right I’m a helpless dork” he pointed on the younger Chat with a smirk. The older Ladybug join her laughing over Adriens pounding face

“You are my helpless dork Kitty” said the older tender to her chat and give him a chest kiss

“Can we speed this up, I have an important appointment” said Blue Bird dry

“Aww, he ask you out!” cheers Ladybug

“Maman please!”

“Not your boyfriend hu?”

Emma and her parents give them a small good bey before all three vanished in the soft pink light of Ladybugs cure.

Ladybug star at the place where their older self and Emma stand. She feels how Chat came closer and lay his arm around her

“I like my future” murmur he

“yea, seems to be nice” agree she

“Hey Marie?”

She hums in response “What did I mean with ‘still love me?”

Marinette take a deep breath, if it wasn’t for the knowing about Emma, she wouldn’t even think of answer this question, but she knows now

“well you see the thing is...”

[kaialone]

Yokai Watch Busters 2 Translation

(Masterpost for my Yokai Watch translations can be found here)

This will contain major spoilers for Yokai Watch Busters 2, specifically Chapter 8, so proceed with caution.

With that being said, this will be a translation of the aftermath of the battle with Gowin Bundory.

These are the scenes that follow right after the battle with Gowin, the related scenes of which I have translated here, so I recommend reading that if you want more context.

Bolded is the original Japanese; for reference and in case someone who is better at Japanese reads this, and feels like correcting something.

Bolded and italicized is my translation.

(Number) Indicates I got a specific comment to make on that part in the translation notes.

Please keep in mind that I’m a beginner when it comes to Japanese, so it’s possible that I make mistakes, too.

--

After the Battle with Gowin:

Jibanyan: ん？ ここはどこニャン？ Hm? Where are we, nyan?

Zom B Chopper: あ あれを見ろ！ Ah, look at that!

-

Zom B Chopper: なんだこれは… 船を操縦するための舵 …つまりハンドルだな！ What is this... A rudder to steer a ship... ...in other words, a steering wheel! (1)

Jibanyan: うーん 何かありそうだけど 全然わかんないニャ〜ン。 Hmm, seems like there’s something up with this, but I don't get it at all, nyaaan.

Indy Jaws: きさまら死にたいのかぁぁ！ Do you want to die or something!?

Indy Jaws: こんなもの あきらかなワナだ！ 触るんじゃないっ！ This is an obvious trap! Don't touch it!

Indy Jaws: いいか？ ちょっとでも 触ろうもんなら… Got it? Even the slightest touch could....

Indy Jaws: って さめえええええっ！ Ah- Sameeeeeee! (2)

Jibanyan: めちゃめちゃガッツリ さわってるニャーン！ You just totally touched it as much as possible, nyaan!

Whisper: え？ え！ うわわ… 床が動きますよ〜！ Huh? Huh!? Uwawah... The floor is moving!

Zom B Chopper: そうか…！ これはハンドルを 「右に回すと床が上へあがる」しかけだな！ I see...! This wheel is a mechanism that "raises the floor when turned to the right"!

Komasan: もんげ〜！！ さすが大大大冒険家ズラ〜！ Mongeee! As expected from a Great Great Great Adventurer!

Jibanyan: この島に来て はじめて 謎を解いているとこ見たニャン！ This is the first time I’ve seen you solving a puzzle, since we came to the island, nyan!

Whisper: でも グーゼンですけどね〜！ Even though it was an accident, whis!

Indy Jaws: グ… グーゼンではない！ ワナにさえ愛され 味方にする！ It wasn't an accident! Let the trap love you, and turn it into an ally!

Indy Jaws: そ それくらいでないと 大大大冒険家とは言えないのだよ！ I-if you can't even do that, you can't call yourself a Great Great Great Adventurer!

Indy Jaws: ハハハ… ハ〜ッハッハッハ！！ Hahaha... Haaahahaha!!

Notes:

The word I translated as steering wheel is ハンドル/handoru in Japanese, which is derived from the English world “handle”, and can be used to refer to the steering wheel of a car.

Indy Jaws often uses さめ/same, which literally translates to shark, as an exclamation of suprise, shock, or the like.

--

On a Higher Floor:

Jibanyan: ニャニャ… なんだニャン？ Nyanya... What's this, nyan?

Indy Jaws: 見ろ…！祭壇だぞ！ 安置されている宝玉は…。 Look...! An altar! And the jewel that's enshrined there...

-

Zom B Chopper: ああ！ あれこそ 「バンバラストーン」……！！ Ahh! That's the "Banbara Stone"...!!

Jibanyan: ニャ… ニャニャ！？ Nya... Nyanya!?

Indy Jaws: あ… ジバニャンの宝剣が勝手に…！ Ah... Jibanyan's Treasure Swords are acting on their own...!

-

Jibanyan: やったニャン！ 「バンバラストーン」 ゲットだニャン！！ Hooray, nyan! We got the "Banbara Stone", nyan!!

Zom B Chopper: 秘宝に認められたんだ…！ やったな！ よし… 早くここを離れようぜ！！ The Hidden Treasure accepted us...! We did it! Alright... Let's hurry up and get out of here!!

Jibanyan: わかったニャン！ Got it, nyan!

--

As they’re about to leave:

Indy Jaws: ん？ 待て！ あれを見ろ！ Hm? Wait! Look at that!

Dandory: はぁ…はぁ…くくく… 待ち待ったぜ この時を！！ *pant*… *pant*… Hehehe… We've been waiting for this moment!!

Indy Jaws: くっ またお前たちか… 往生際が悪いぞ！！ Kch, you again… You just don't know when to quit!!

Dandory: バンバラヤーの秘宝が復活…  ってことは いるんだろ？ The revival of the Hidden Treasure of Banbarayā… That's it, isn't it? (1)

Dandory: 壺の妖怪… 「カナエンデス」！！ Yōkai of the Vase… “Kanaendesu”!! (2)

Black Catleen: ふふふ… やはりお前たちも来たか しつこいやつらめ… Hehehe… So you came after all. What a persistent lot… (3)

Whisper: うぃす？ どいうこと？ Whis? What's this?

Kirene: あぁっ！！ Ahh!!

Dandory: ふ…ふふ… 参ったぜ 本当にその姿のままなんだな… Heh… Hehe… I'm at loss. You really have become like this…

Tanto: か… 母ちゃん！？ 母ちゃん！！ M… Mommy!? Mommy!!

Spatto: あっ タント！！ Ah, Tanto!!

Tanto: わかるかい 母ちゃんオイラだよ！ ずっとずっと探してたんだよォ！ You understand, Mommy? It's me! We've been lookin' for you for so long!

Whisper: ええっ お母さん！？ ブンドリー一家の？ What!? The Bundory Family's mother?

Whisper: で それが壺の妖怪？ ど…どゆこと〜？ And, she is this Yōkai of the Vase? W… What are you talking about?

Spatto: バ… バカ！ いくなタント！！ You… You idiot! Stay away from her, Tanto!!

Spatto: 今の母さんは… 母さんじゃないんだっ！！ Mom is not… she's not Mom anymore!!

Dandory: まだ小さかったあいつには話してないんだ… Since he was still small, we didn't tell him…

Dandory: 母さんと壺の妖怪が… 合体していることを！ …that our mother and the Yōkai of the Vase… have fused!

Everyone: ええーっ！？ Whaaaat!?

Black Catleen: くっ… な なんだコイツは！！ ええい！ はなれろっ！！ Kch… What's with this one!? Arrghh! Get off me!!

Tanto: うわああああ！！！ Uwaaahh!!!

Indy Jaws: 地鳴りだ！ やばいぞ！ Rumbling! This is bad!

Black Catleen: なんだ！？ 塔が… 変形する？ What!? The tower is… changing shape?

Black Catleen: 秘宝の前にして… こんなことがぁぁっ！！ Why does this have to happen… when the Hidden Treasure is right there!?

Dandory: タント… タントはどこだ あっ！！ Tanto… Tanto, where are you!? Ah!!

Tanto: ゴメンよぉ… オイラいっつもみんなの 足引っぱってばっかでさあ… Sorry… 'm always just draggin' you guys down…

Dandory: ガレキが… タントっ！ う…動くな The debris… Tanto! D… Don't move!

Dandory: 待ってろ！ 兄ちゃん今行くからな！ Just wait! Your big brother will be right there in a moment!

Gowin: ハッハッハァァ！！ ここはワシとバアちゃんにまかせろや！ Hahahahaaa!! You can leave the rest to me and Grandma!

Toranka: ハッハアア！ その通りだよォ！ Haha! That's right!

Gowin: グハハ…… フウ…… フウ…… Guhaha… *huff*… *huff*…

Dandory: 親父…！ ばあちゃん…！ バスターズとの戦いでもう力が… Dad…! Grandma…! You're still out of energy from fighting the Busters…

Gowin: グハハ… バッスルしすぎたかのォ Guhaha… Guess they busted us. (4)

Kirene: イヤぁ！ パパ〜っ！ おばあちゃん〜！！ No! Papa! Grandma!!

Komasan: タントさぁ〜ん！ 待ってるズラ〜 Tanto! Hang in there!

Komasan: スィーツ好きどうし 助け合いズラ！！ Sweets lovers gotta help each other!!

Treasure Komasan: よいしょっ… ズラ Heave-ho…

Tanto: コ… コマさん… オイラなんかのために Ko… Komasan… You're doin’ this for someone like me…

Dandory: タント…… お前… Tanto… You…

Tanto: ゴメンよ 兄ちゃん 敵なのに友だちになっちゃって… 'm sorry big bro, I made friends with him, even though he's our enemy…

Dandory: ありがとよ バスターズ 弟をたのむぜ Thank you, Busters. Please, take care of our little brother.

Dandory: おい！ スパット！ キレーネ！ Hey! Spatto! Kirene!

Dandory: 親父たちを追うぜ！ ヤツと決戦だっ！！ We're going after Dad and the others! This will be the final battle with that guy!!

Spatto: ああ！ Right!

Kirene: うん 行きましょう！ Yeah, let's go!

Tanto: 兄ちゃん！ 姉ちゃん！ み… みんなあああっ！ Big bros! Big sis! G… Guys!

Zom B Chopper: おい！ やつらが上の階に！ 追うぞっ！ Hey! They're going to the upper floor! Let's go after them!

Zom B Chopper: さあ急げ ウィスパー！！ Now, hurry up, Whisper!!

Whisper: うぃす〜〜っ！？ この流れで私に来ます！？ Whiiiis!? You're coming at me with that!?

Whisper: いやいや！ おかしいでしょ〜〜っ！！ Oh, no, no! You're not making sense!!

Zom B Chopper: お前一番 その輪っかのハンドルに近いんだよ！ You're the closest to that steering wheel!

Zom B Chopper: 右に回して床を上げろ！ Turn it to the right and raise the floor!

Indy Jaws: そうだ早くやれ！！ 穴が閉じるぞ！！ Yes, and hurry it up!! The opening is closing!!

Whisper: あわわ… 右って言ったらどっちです！ Awawa... When you say right, which one do you mean?

Whisper: いつも私が鼻をホジホジする方の手？ The hand I always use to pick my nose?

Jibanyan: どっちでやってるかなんて知らないニャン！ As if I'd know which one you do that with, nyan!

Whisper: ですね！ そうこっち！ こっちが右手！ True! Right, this one! This one is my right hand!

Whisper: ハイ息すってぇ〜… 右に力を入れてぇ〜… Alright, take a deep breath... Put your strength into your right hand aaaand...

Whisper: 回すぅぅ！！！！ Turn it!!!!

Zom B Chopper: おい ハンドルは「右」から回しちゃったら 「左」に行くだろうが… Hey. If you turn the wheel from the "right", it will go "left", you know...

Whisper: …うぃすぅ〜？ ...Whis?

Indy Jaws: 何やってんださめぇぇぇぇぇ〜〜！！ What are you doing, sameeeeeee!!

Notes:

The term バンバラヤー/Banbarayā could be romanized in different ways, for example the first syllable “Ban-” could also be romanized as “Bam-”, the middle part “-bara-” could also be “-bala-”, and the ending “-yā“ could also be romanized as “-yar”, “-yaa”, or “-yah”.

Kanaendesu is taken from 叶えんです/kanaendesu, which translates to “it is granted”, as in, a wish is granted. It's also noteworthy that  デス/desu is the Japanese spelling of the English word “death”, and I feel that this is likely intentional here, so the name could be spelled as Kanaendeath. But, I’m sticking with a literal romanization for now.

This “form” is labelled Black Catleen later in the game, so that’s what I’m using here.

In Japanese, I’m fairly sure he is making a pun on バスターズ/basutāzu (”Busters”) with the word バッスル/bassuru (”to punish”).

--

[nathynoir313]

Finding Home

Also available on ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12652419/chapters/28838514

Chapter 2

“I’m laughing with my lover, building forts under covers, trust him like a brother, yeah you know I did one thing right. Starry eyes sparking up my darkest night.”

 Easy? Nope, not at all. Adrien was having a hard time. He was totally excited to be able to share freely with Mari, knowing she was also Ladybug. What was not so easy…not letting their nicknames slip. Not seeing threats in inoffensive objects from random people. Like that morning. Yeah, that morning was a good example.

10 hours earlier on that same day…

Adrien and Marinette always walked together. Usually he’d let Mari on her work place, and head on to his. They were pretty close. Both friends had circles under their eyes, which usually happened when they had sleepovers. They always stayed up late on their sleepovers. He was yawning a lot, which annoyed him. And Mari couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“You have no resistance to stay up late Kitty!” she’d say every time. He’d nudge her on her side, and try to contain his grin while she bursted in laughter.

Well, I was tired. Trying to blame his lack of sleep was his best defense for what happened that morning. They had just gotten to the tall building in which Marinette taught her fashion students, and worked on her designs.

Knowing she was Ladybug made him more aware, and more cautious about everything surrounding him. His Chat instincts were always analyzing their whereabouts. And he had always felt protective over Mari. And she was like that towards him.

So when they got inside, someone tried to approach Marinette, and the only thing Adrien’s mind processed on its sleepy haze, was the silver glimmer of something. Something coming towards Marinette. Towards his Lady.

“WOW! Be careful Ladyb—little miss, yoouuu…who are you?” Pointing his finger accusingly at the surprised boy who was trying to approach Marintte, Adrien was just about to burst into a pile of humiliation. Wide-eyed, Marinette tried to make sense of what was going on with Adrien, until she saw what caught his attention.

“Adrien, this is my student, Luke. And that, on his hand, is a pen. You’ve seen a pen before, right?”

“Pff, of course I’ve seen a pen before My La- Marinette. What do you take me for?”

“Oooookay then. Just hang in there for a sec. What do you need me to sign Luke?”

Looking back at his fashion teacher, the boy focused on the task at hand.

“Oh, sorry to bother, Miss Dupain-Cheng. I just need your signature to leave early today from the lecture. I’ve got a doctor appointment and I won’t be able to attend, so I need you to sign this please.”

“That’s just fine. I’ll email today’s lesson and your tasks. Remember you need to show me your new designs, ok?”

“Sure thing miss, I’ll bring it to you this Friday.”

“That’s fine. There you go Luke. See you tomorrow.”

“Thanks. Bye Miss Dupain-Cheng, and bye Mr...”

“Agreste.” Marinette replied with a grin. “ This is Adrien Agreste, my childhood friend. Adrien, this is Luke.

Recovering from the ridiculous situation, Adrien mumbled a reply.

“Nice to meet you Luke.” The boy nodded once in greeting, and left through the doors the two friends had just gone through to enter the building.

Marinette turned to look at Adrien properly. She pulled him towards the elevator, pushing the button to her floor.

“Are you okay Kitty?”

“I’m all write Mari. It’s just so difficult to remember to differentiate our nicknames now that I know you’re Ladybug. And it’s also hard to remember that not everybody is a threat, and that we’re not under attack. That was a pen for goodness’ sake!”

“First of all, that pun was awful. Second, yeah, you’ve always been pretty bad at keeping things Kitty, but relax, you’ll get used to it. And finally, I know we’re protective of each other, but you know I’m tough right? So stay calm. If you need anything, you know where to find me. Now go. Otherwise you’ll get late for that press-conference about your new article and you need to get there on time.”

“Right, I forgot about that! Gotta run, see you for lunch Mar!”

Marinette laughed. Adrien would only call her Mar sometimes, but she was pretty fond of the nickname. She parted from him when the elevator reached her floor. Waving him bye, she greeted her students.

Adrien was now in a hurry to get to his work place. As he walked, dodging from other people on the sidewalk, he started to think about his childhood days. About how caring thay had always been toward each other.

Ever since they were kids, Marinette took as her full-time responsibility taking care of Adrien, and making sure that he was happy, and was able to connect and bond with their classmates. He was kind of lost in the beginning, as the boy wasn’t an extrovert such as Mari, but he was getting better at it, little by little beginning to share jokes and puns with a few of his classmates. Things were going fine, and Adrien felt like he could leave the recent pain from his loss behind. The circumstances seemed to be only improving and the little boy felt like maybe, just maybe, he could abandon his walls.

He was too young to understand them, but they were there. Blocking him from the rest of the world, from actually being happy. Marinette was the only one to break them, and actually see him. Adrien felt like his world might be getting its colors for real. When he was with Mari they came back all at once. But he finally felt like it might not be only him depending on Mari’s light. For the first time that year, he felt like he was getting his own light back. Too early though, they found out kids could be cruel.

11 years ago…    

Mari and Adrien were ten years old. It was Mother’s Day at school, and Marinette was trying to cheer her friend up. Pulling him by the hand, she insisted that he tagged along to meet their colleagues. The girl didn’t want her friend to feel lonely. She knew how much he missed his mom.

“Come on Kitty, it’s going to be fun! You know what, I’ll share my Mommy with you! My mommy is your mommy!” The little boy giggled a little, always wondering how his friend could be so positive and caring. Marinette was different from the other children. She didn’t ask him questions he didn’t want to answer, didn’t pry, but was always there to listen to whatever it was he wanted to share with her, whenever he felt like it.

He felt like, perhaps, that day wouldn’t be that bad. Some people just wanted to make sure he was wrong.

“Such a loser! Doesn’t have a mom! What sort of kid doesn’t have a mom? She must have left you behind. Freak! You’re so pathetic!”

Jay. He was two years older, and always teased the kids on Adrien’s and Marinette’s year. The younger boy withered, shoulders slumping, and eyes tearing up. He always tried to contain his tears, trying to be as strong as his father, but it just hurt a lot. It had been only one year since the car accident that killed his parents.

“Why are you so mean Jay? Just leave Adrien and I alone!”  Marinette hated what Jay did, and she knew his words could hurt just like knives. She already felt hurt, vulnerable and insecure. She didn’t want Adrien to feel like that too.

“Oh, so little Adrien can’t speak for himself? He has to be defended by a girl! A baker’s daughter, even worse!” Jay would howl with laughter, and the sound always made the kids want to cover their ears. But Marinette didn’t shy away. She shot the older boy a fiery look, crossing her tiny arms in front of her.

“What’s wrong with being a baker’s daughter?”

“You’re just weak. And you’ll always be weak.” Balling her hands into fists, the short ten year-old was able to shoot a reply, when a just as tiny hand clasped one of her fists, and she turned back to look at her best-friend. Adrien was just about to crumble apart right before her eyes. Her fiery look dissolved into worry. With a last burning stare toward Jay, she took Adrien’s hand, and walked to the other side of the street.

Hearing Jay and the other boy’s laughter made Marinette’s blood boil, but for her best friend’s sake, she just ignored them. Holding her Kitty’s hand tightly, she went straight to their house, and to her balcony.

Setting a plate with a chocolate croissant and a glass of milk, she took her favorite blanket, putting it around Adrien’s shoulders. He let the tears roll freely, the pain evident on his green eyes. Marinette just sat by his side. She couldn’t understand why some people were so mean. Jay seemed to find pleasure in terrorizing and inflicting pain on other children.  Adrien just didn’t deserve any of that. She hated to see him so sad. But she knew that he needed his space. During those moments, being by his side was enough. Sometimes he’d speak. Other times he’s just rest his head on her shoulder, or just hug her until his sobs subsided. And she was always there for him.

Many times since he moved to the Dupain-Cheng’s house, he would wake up in the middle of the night, from dreams in which his family was still whole. When they were all still happy. He loved living with Marinette and her parents, but the vivacity of the dreams always made him wake up feeling like the accident had happened right in that moment. The joy in the dreams seemed real. The pain when we woke up was real.

He would take his pillow and, silently, walk down the hallway to Marinette’s room. He’d open the door just a little bit, check if the coast was clear and lay down on her chaise. She used to talk during her sleep, and surprisingly, it usually soothed the little boy’s heart, which ached for the reality only present on his dreams.

“Kitty…it’s nice…so fluffy…” She would say the craziest stuff, but he didn’t mind. It always lulled him to sleep.

11 years later

He smiled fondly. He’d still do that sometimes. Many of them, he’d be surprised to wake while it was still dark to find Marinette sleeping on the floor, next to the chaise while holding his hand. When she did that, there were no nightmares for the rest of the night.

[gillianfoster]

hey @basinhounds help me out here

Sometimes Eddie felt like whoever assigned roommates in his dorm had a real fucking sense of humor - or at least they must have thought they did. Assigning him to live with Richie Tozier was practically halfway to a sitcom just by the nature of it all. Richie left his shit everywhere, and Eddie got too anxious to function if he let his clothes get that wrinkled or his things get that... Everywhere. It practically looked like there was a tape line divider down the middle of their room, just because Richie knew better than to let his mess cross into Eddie’s section of the room. They bickered like an old married couple over everything from pizza toppings to attractive actors. By all accounts, they should have hated each other.

Except it turned out they liked a lot the same music, and mostly the same movies, and that they actually liked each other, a lot, under all the arguing. Richie had ended up being Eddie’s best friend, really - which only added to how ridiculous it all was from Eddie’s perspective.

Part of this was the fact that Eddie was, frankly, too gay to function, and Richie fit Eddie’s list of ideal boyfriend characteristics pretty much to a T. He was tall and funny (not that Eddie would ever tell him that to his face), he had dark curly hair and big thick-rimmed glasses, and he was sort of an amateur musician. Every time Eddie found out something else about him, caught him painting his nails for fun or wearing some ridiculous vintage t-shirt with a shitty pun, he was overwhelmed again by how unbelievably stereotypically hard he’d fallen for his shitty college roommate. It wasn’t even like Richie was necessarily straight - Eddie was pretty sure he was bi - it was just that he was also pretty sure Richie would never even consider dating him.

The real problem was that Richie should have been an asshole, by all accounts - but he wasn’t. Eddie had seen him bend down to pet any dog that crossed his path. He saw the twitch of insecurity in Richie’s smile whenever he told a joke and waited for someone to laugh, or when he played a song on his guitar for the first time.

Richie Tozier was, in all his imperfections, practically perfect.

These were the sorts of things Eddie groaned into the phone at Stan whenever he could be alone in the room, certain that Richie was somewhere else was on campus.

“And he’s nice! And hot! That’s the worst part!”

“Why do I have to suffer through this again? Isn’t it someone else’s turn?”

“Stan, I need you to understand.”

“All I understand is that it sounds like he’d annoy the hell out of me. I’m sure if you like him, he’s great, and we’d get along, but from a distance I just kind of want to punch him.”

“How could you say that?”

Stan sighed. “Again. Why aren’t you talking to Bev about this?”

“Bev knows him! They went to high school together or something. They probably used to make out under the bleachers. And that’s not like, a comment, I’m just saying, they probably did.”

“I think you just like to torture yourself, Eddie. And you’re being ridiculous. This guy is the farthest thing from cool-”

“I never said he was cool! I have not stooped that low.”

Stan sighed again - this time really seeming to go for an Olympic medal in exasperation. “Eddie. Either request a roommate change or do something about the situation, I’m always going to give you the same advice.”

“I don’t need advice, I just want someone to listen to me. I can’t talk to Richie, Bill’s always busy with Mike and in another time zone, I can’t talk to Bev, and Ben never answers his phone in the library, so you’re what I’ve got here, Stan.”

“Are you done now, then? Can I be free?”

“...Yes, fine. For now.”

“Thank you.” Eddie’s only response was a dial tone, then, and he put his phone down and rolled over, groaning into his pillows.

The real problem with living with the boy you were in love with was the constant need to look at least presentable. It was only about five minutes of stressing out over Richie’s general existence before Eddie felt the need to go neaten up in a mirror again, making sure he didn’t look as ridiculous as he felt.

Richie wasn’t even supposed to get back until later that night - he had some kind of rehearsal for a show or the comedy club he was a part of - but Eddie felt like he could never be too careful.

Eddie had found a distraction in his homework by the time he got the text from his mother.

I need to speak to you. Call me when you can.

Texts like that, from Sonia Kaspbrak, were never good news. Literally never. Eddie was still shocked that he’d managed to escape all the way to New York for college and that his mom hadn’t come chasing after him - every time she called or tried to talk to him, he was terrified that she’d tell him she was going to stop supporting him at all (not that her pittance of an allowance for him did much more than cover some meals), or that she’d really figured out something that would make her disown him entirely. Then again, maybe either of those things would be a relief at this point.

Since Richie still wasn’t back, and Eddie knew the longer he put off the phone call, the worse things would get and the more stressed out he would feel, so he picked up the phone to call his mom back.

“Hey, mom.”

“Eddie. I have some news. You may want to sit down.”

Eddie looked at his desk, furrowed his brow. “Yes, I’m sitting down. What is it?”

“Your great aunt Joyce is getting married.”

“Oh, I’m-” Eddie was fully prepared to give his condolences because he was fully prepared for his mother to tell him his great aunt had died. Instead, he suddenly found he had to hold back laughter. He paused. “Right. I mean. Good for her?”

“She should hardly be getting married at her age! It’ll be the death of her.”

Eddie had to hold the phone away, then, just to laugh. He brought it back to his ear. “Right. Well. I can send her a present or something, right? Maybe some heart medication.”

“Edward Kaspbrak!” Eddie winced at his mother’s use of his full name. “You’ve got to come home for the wedding. And don’t talk about your great aunt that way. You’ll bring her something in person. Something nice.”

“Okay. Right. Of course. Maybe a... Blender?”

There was a long pause, and Eddie held his breath, waiting to be scolded again. “...That’ll be fine. There’s one on the registry. You’ll have to drive home next weekend. There’s been hardly any planning at all. It’s all some kind of whirlwind romance.”

Eddie had trouble imagining his great aunt getting into a whirlwind anything without breaking a bone, but apparently she’d managed. For a moment he felt a little pathetic that his 84 year old great aunt could get a boyfriend and he couldn’t, but then he pulled it together. “Right. Next weekend. Well I can do that, I don’t have class on Friday, so. I can come home for the weekend. I’ll drive down. Should I... Bring someone?”

“Would you bring a nice girl?”

Another wince. Eddie’s mother had known he was gay since before he left for college - but she never seemed to give up hope that he’d get over it. “Not really, mommy. I could bring a nice boy?”

“Try not to shock the whole family, will you? And make sure they’re clean.”

With that, apparently Eddie had ended the conversation, because his mother had hung up on him. Eddie sighed and rubbed at his forehead.

Eddie would rather stick himself with a needle than go home on his own - and he used testosterone patches for a reason. Still, his options for boys to take were limited. Stan would have had to fly up, and so would Bill or Mike. Ben went to the same college, but he probably had work that weekend, since he took as many shifts at the library as he could. Bev could be funny, just because Eddie had a feeling his mother would hate her more than any boy Eddie could have brought - well. Except maybe Richie. And that’s the thing, right, was that Richie would probably say yes. He’d be funny and keep Eddie company and they’d both have a good time. Except for that to happen, Eddie would actually have to muster up the courage to ask, which was never going to happen.

He was still dividing his time between his crisis and his homework when the door flew open and Richie finally came back.

“Eds! What a day.” He came over and kissed Eddie on the cheek, leaning over his chair, and Eddie swatted him off, smiling.

“What was so exciting about your day?”

“Mm, nothing, just long. Glad to be back again in home sweet dorm room. What about you? Did you go out and have thrilling adventures while I was gone before you came back to your homework?” Richie went over to his own bed and kicked off his Converse to lay down. He propped himself up on an elbow to keep looking at Eddie while they talked.

“Not really. I talked to Stan.” And my mom told me I had to come home for a wedding and I would pretty much do anything if you would come with me, he thought but didn’t say.

“Right. He’s the one in... Atlanta?”

Eddie smiled. “That’s the one.”

“See the effort I put in for you, Eds? And you don’t even appreciate it.”

“You’re such a loser,” Eddie muttered in response - but he couldn’t wipe the smile from his face either.

If Richie was home, it was starting to get late - and a look at Eddie’s phone told him that was true. He could finish his homework in the morning. He picked up his pajamas and went into the bathroom to change. Richie didn’t seem to have any issue changing in their room standing by the closet if he needed to, but Eddie still felt strange about it.

When he came back to their room, he kept his binder carefully tucked in with the rest of his clothes - not because he didn’t want Richie to see it, but because with Richie’s things being the way they were, they’d gotten their binders confused more than once, and found that they very much did not wear the same size.

Eddie did wonder sometimes if that was why he and Richie had been assigned to room together - out of some strange initiative or concern that they’d both be bullied - but if that was the case, he couldn’t even really stay mad about it. He was too glad to have met Richie.

After putting his clothes away, he turned off his desk lamp and laid down, then turned to Richie in the dim light of Richie’s side of the room. “You said you and Bev went to high school together, right? So how did you two like. Meet?”

Richie laughs. “Shit. It sounds a lot, like. Cooler than it was. We used to smoke together behind the bleachers. Cause, you know, everyone knows it’s fucking terrible for you now, so no one really does it as much anymore except like art students in college, but she used to steal her dad’s cigarettes, and I would bum off my mom, and we would skip classes to smoke together. We also both had pretty shitty parents, I’m sure that helped. So we’d talk and smoke and I’d try and be her wingman with all the girls she had a thing for - not that she needed my help, mostly I just made an asshole out of myself but she still likes me anyways, so.”

Eddie hums, but then blushes, because of course Stan was right, and he’s an idiot. “She seems cool.”

“Bev? She is cool. Way cooler than me, but I’m a fucking loser. She just used to get shit where we went to school because we grew up in the middle of fucking nowhere. Assholes couldn’t decide if she was a slut or a lesbian - which, neither, she dated like one boy and two girls. And not like it was any of their business either way.”

“Yeah. Me and Stan and our other friends were so in the middle of nowhere our biggest bully still had a fucking mullet in the 2010s, so.”

Richie laughed, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet room, and Eddie smiled into the darkness. “Wow. Yeah, that’s pretty incredible.”

Eddie yawned and snuggled further into his blankets. Every night living with Richie felt like a sleepover sometimes - more often than not they stayed up later than they should have, just talking. “I should probably get some sleep. You going out early tomorrow?”

“Nope. Thursday, remember? You, me, Ben and Bev can get breakfast tomorrow if you want.”

“Oh, yeah. Sounds good.”

It was surprisingly easy to fall asleep after talking to Richie as long as he turned to face the wall and didn’t think too much about Richie being able to watch him.

He woke in the morning, like he always did, a little before Richie and twenty times less awake. Neither he nor Richie were morning people, but Eddie was particularly murderous before he had coffee and food, while Richie was mostly just quieter and sort of bleary in the mornings.

While Eddie was still in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, Richie joined him at the next sink. Richie’s left elbow brushed Eddie’s right, and they glanced at each other in companionable and sleepy silence.

Richie came back to the room dressed, and they both got ready and went down to the dining hall to meet Ben and Bev after exchanging some texts.

Once in the dining hall, they both went straight for the waffle makers - fortunately there were two. Richie seemed to only ever eat desert-based foods for breakfast, because he said it was all he could do to get himself to eat breakfast. Eddie just enjoyed the opportunity to finally eat whatever he wanted for breakfast without his mom being a complete weirdo about it. When their trays were filled with food, they both paid for their food and found a table. Bev and Ben joined them only shortly after - Eddie had fortunately already finished his first coffee by then.

“Hey, guys!” Ben said, smiling at them. Bev waved at them after she set down her tray, but already had a cinnamon roll in her mouth that she’d taken a bite out of.

“Hey. How are you guys?” Eddie asked.

“Tired as ever,” Bev responded, sitting down.

“Mood,” Richie said, and Eddie snorted at him.

They mostly ate quietly, and eventually Richie excused himself to go and get some more syrup for his waffle, to add to the already ungodly amount.

“Hey, Bev,” Eddie said quietly.

“Mm?”

“Could I, um. Ask you something?”

“I guess, sure.”

“Right, well, my mom told me I have to come home for this wedding next weekend and I was kind of wondering-”

“She hates weddings, Eddie,” Ben said, and Bev gave him a look. “Well you do.”

Bev rolled her eyes. “Go ahead, Eddie.”

“Well I did think of asking you, it’s just that I would rather take a guy, right, so I was wondering if you like... thought that Richie would say yes to going with me.”

“If I’d say yes to what, Eds?”

Shit. Eddie froze, and turned to look up at Richie. He could see Bev’s grin from the corner of his eye, and Ben looked ready to laugh, too.

I hate you both, he mouthed to them, and then he turned fully to Richie, who was standing behind his chair. “Right. Well. My great aunt is getting married, and my mom is making me go home for the wedding, but she said I should bring someone, so I. Thought maybe I’d ask you to come.”

Richie grinned. “You’re really asking me to come to a wedding with you?” Eddie nodded. “Well of course I will, Eddie Spaghetti!”

Leaning down, Richie ruffled Eddie’s hair, and Eddie swatted him away. “It is way too early in the morning for any of that, asshole.”

“I can’t help myself, I’m too excited. Getting asked to a wedding! By my very own Eds. It’s more than I ever dreamed.” Richie swooned and ended up sticking his elbow in Eddie’s leftover syrup, and Ben, Bev, and Eddie all laughed at him.

Eddie still grabbed Richie’s arm and wiped the syrup off with a wet napkin. “You’re such a dumbass.”

“Only for you,” Richie said with a wink.

Eddie rolled his eyes, and ignored the looks Ben and Bev were giving him.

They got all the details settled later that night - that the wedding was not this weekend but next, that Eddie would drive, that they would both need suits.

That weekend, the week before the wedding, found them tooling around the discount rack at a men’s store, looking for something for either of them that wouldn’t leave them totally broke.

“Do I have to wear a tie? Because I’ll do it for you, Eds, but I won’t like it.”

Eddie looked over to see Richie holding up a couple of tie options. “Let’s just get ties at a thrift store. And you can get one with some ridiculous pattern to make yourself feel better and keep up your pattern of generally tragic outfits.”

“Says the man that wears rainbow short-shorts,” Richie replied with raised eyebrows.

“I know you like my shorts, you can’t shame me for them in this store, I know better than that.”

Richie laughed, but he looked down, and Eddie knew he was right.

“Anyways. We’re here for suits. We can coordinate ties and shit once we actually have the suits.”

Nodding, Richie slung an arm around Eddie and pulled him back to the discount suit rack.

They did actually manage to find suits. Eddie ended up with one that was a nice, dark, fall red. Richie’s was a nice deep blue that looked good next to Eddie’s shade of red. They could also easily get ties to match the other’s suit, and they could both wear black shoes, all of which Eddie relayed to Richie as they left the store.

Neither of their suits fit perfectly, but they fit well enough, and neither of them really had the money for alterations.

They were at the thrift store, with Richie holding up a Space Jam tie and waggling his eyebrows at Eddie, when Eddie’s mom called again.

“Mom? Hi.”

“Eddie, you’re going to dress up for the wedding, aren’t you? And make sure you bring that gift. Have you got everything settled? It’s so bad for your health to let all this go to the last minute, you know that, don’t you?”

“Mommy, I’ve already got a suit, and I know who I’m bringing, I just have to buy the gift.”

“Is that your mom?” Richie asks. “Tell her I said hi.”

Eddie shakes his head, but his mom already asks, “Oh, Eddie, who’s that?”

Here’s the thing. When Sonia let Eddie go to college, her one requirement was that Eddie not room with another boy - for several reasons. She has no idea that Eddie agreed to room with anyone, let alone Richie. They’ve only ever talked when Richie was out of the room.

“Oh, that’s my uh. Boyfriend?”

He realized what he’d done as soon as the words were out of his mouth, but it was too late, then. Richie’s eyebrows shot up, and Eddie closed his eyes to try and block out the expression.

“Oh. You are bringing a boy, then.”

“Yes, mommy.”

“...Make sure he dresses up, too. I won’t have you bringing some mess into the wedding.”

His mother hung up, and Eddie noted in passing that she never seemed to say goodbye anymore. Then he opened his eyes.

“So did I miss something?” Richie asked. He was grinning.

Eddie exhaled in one long breath, and felt like his soul also left his body. “My mom doesn’t know I live with you, and I’m bringing you to the wedding anyways, so I was thinking date? But then that just sort of came out. I’m sorry.”

“I did think you’d have taken me to dinner first, Eds,” Richie said with a wink. Then, almost like it didn’t matter at all, he picked up a tie and held it in front of Eddie’s face. “I feel like if you don’t let me get this pineapple tie, I’m actually going to die.”

“Was that supposed to rhyme?” Eddie said, managing to joke back, somehow.

“No, actually, now I feel like a dipshit. Can I get the tie anyways?”

“I mean, you can get it, but you’re not wearing it to the wedding. Here.” Eddie picked up a red paisley tie, and kept digging until he found a blue paisley one that didn’t clash horribly. “I get the blue paisley and I match you, you get the red paisley, you get a pattern and I get the peace of mind that we’re sort of coordinated. Compromise?”

“Alright, alright. I’m getting the Space Jam one, though, you can’t stop me.”

“I never thought I could, Rich.”

Eddie was grateful for the distraction Richie seemed glad to provide, and for the fact that they just seemed to have moved on.

It didn’t come up again until the night before they were supposed to leave, while they were both lying in their beds, the moonlight from the window the only light left.

“Okay so, genuine question, I’m not trying to be an asshole,” Richie began.

Eddie turned over in bed to look at him. He could only see parts of Richie’s face, his eyes shining in the slats of light that their blinds allowed. “Okay. What is it?”

“Am I actually supposed to pretend we’re boyfriends at this wedding?”

Caught off-guard, Eddie blushed a little, and was glad for the dark. “Oh. Uh. I hadn’t really thought about it. I guess my mom thinks we are now? On accident? So it depends on how you want to handle that.”

Richie shrugged. “I mean, you haven’t talked a lot about your mom.”

“...Right. Well. Yeah. Uh. She was sort of shitty, when I was a kid. Not about like. Me being trans, just about me being gay - I don’t know, maybe it’s some combination of the two? Mostly she just didn’t want me to go anywhere or be around anyone. It was like she thought I would. Get contaminated or something. My dad died when I was a kid, I guess it triggered something for her, and she was always afraid I was going to get sick - I sort of got afraid of it, too.” Eddie realized he’d started to overshare. “Uh. Just in the context of the wedding, she wanted me to bring a girl. I told her I wouldn’t. She told me to make sure that I at least brought someone like. Presentable, basically. She used the word clean. Because she always does.”

Richie laughed, then, and Eddie looked over in confusion. “You’ve got a hell of a way to pick ‘em, then, Eds. You realize your mom’s gonna hate me.”

“I mean, not necessarily.”

“Eddie, babe, be realistic. It sounds like she’s gonna hate me.”

“Well it’s not like she actually likes me that much either!”

There was a pause. “I just need to gauge here - do you actually want me to help you piss off your mom? Is that a goal?”

Eddie bit his lip. “I mean that’s not why I asked you. I asked you because I think you can. Make it fun. You know? I didn’t just ask you because my mom won’t like you. If that’s what you’re asking.”

“...I guess it was, a little. So I should be on the closest thing I’ve got to best behavior unless otherwise notified?”

“Yeah. We’ll go with that. And then we don’t have to play up the couple thing too much, like we don’t have to do a lot of PDA or anything, we can pretend we’re just toning it down.” Eddie turned onto his back again, trying to calm back down enough to sleep in the next week. “Sorry for dragging you into all this. You can stay here if you want.”

“And miss your 84-year-old great aunt’s wedding? Eds, it sounds like a fucking blast. Plus, I already bought that suit. No turning back now. And... You know, you’re right. We’ll have fun. Don’t worry so much.”

Eddie scoffed. “If only it were that easy.”

He heard Richie huff out a laugh, too. “Alright, fair. Try to worry as little as you can manage. I’ll do what I can to make that easy for you. Deal?”

“...Deal. Thanks, Rich.”

“Of course, Eds.”

Eventually, somehow, Eddie managed to fall asleep.

[okreadyscenarios]

Astro Ships: literal-ktrash

Hi Hi Nessa~. I'm not good at this but here I go~ hehehe. For ship request: I would say I'm an optimistic person, but if I'm in a bad mood I'm more of a realist. I enjoy all subjects, but my favorites are astronomy, physics, and anything having to do with writing/english. I'm a perfectionist with body-image issues (regarding myself) and am a bit too judgmental/critical of myself. I cry both when I'm sad and frustrated, and I'm a ball of emotions. I love cringey humor and puns, and I laugh a lot!

I wouldn't say I have a hard time making friends when I try, I just get lost in my own head when I'm in public and don't really approach people. I can't go anywhere without music, it's my lifeline (I basically only listen to KPop nowadays, but I used to listen to Pop and Hard Rock).

I really want to be an international english teacher, because I love learning other languages and understanding other cultures, and I believe english is the language that binds people around the world since it's used for business and the like~, so I believe it's important to learn at least some. I also love writing and have a love for poetry and novels - my dream is to write a poetry book in at least 3 languages one day.

I think anything is possible (even aliens! our universe is so big! how could they not be real?) and encourage people to dreams with all their hearts, so they can give their life their all! I care deeply for my friends and constantly worry about them, and I'm usually the "mom friend". I've been through depression and have relapses every now and then.

I know it sounds weird, but I can sense ghosts (O.O) - which is why I'm nervous around hospitals, I get all freaked out, my head hurts and my chest feels heavy when I'm in one. I'm also afraid of driving (which I'm working through now!). I believe people have lived many lives, that our souls get another chance to live if our past lives have been short or have been taken away from us too soon. I'm afraid of never finding love and ending up alone in my old age.

I also think everyone has soulmates - family, friends, and lovers, the people in your life are around you for a reason~ and maybe they've known you in another life! I'm a huge LGBTQ+ supporter. I'm not very religious, but I believe the only way to find god is through all religions - having the ability to see the world through as many people's eyes as possible, and understand those around us.

I think everyone deserves respect, from your grandmother to the local drug addict in jail, we're all just humans trying to figure out how to live ^-^. I love all animals (I actually spent like 10 minutes yesterday holding a lizard and calling him "friend"😂), but my favorites are dogs, cats, and horses. I've been a horseback rider for about 7 years and never get tired of it. I tried every sport under the sun in middle school, but never got the hang of basketball (I'm too short 0w0).

I used to get hit with the ball in soccer and volleyball, so I'm a bit scared of sports balls now. I'd rather be called cute/adorable than hot/sexy any day, and I melt when people give me pet names~. I want to learn to sing, dance, kick box, and pole dance (interesting combo, right?). I couldn't tell you what my favorite color is, I don't like discriminating against other colors (kekeke).

I also can't pin a favorite ice cream flavor, but I think eating ice cream with company makes it taste better (goes for any food honestly!). I want to travel a lot when I get older, taking pictures of scenery and cultures. I ADORE nature, and would choose the mountains over the beach any day! I love winter and I'm not a huge fan of the sun/heat. I'm a huge mommy's girl, she's my best friend and I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her~.  

I blush easy and have never been in a relationship/on a date (^////^) so I'm quite innocent. My spirit animal is Stitch (since my birthday is 6/26 and he is Experiment 626!!) and I also just really love Stitch! I don't think I have an ideal type, but I want someone funny, who loves me for me ^^. Sorry if this was all over the place! I tried my best *hides my face* (I would like to apologize for how long this was~ hehehe ^\\\^)

((It’s quite alright, dear! ^u^ I tried to use as much info from your request as I could, but I was worried to make it too long;; I hope this is alright! <3))

I ship you with JinJin! <3

Explanation + Fluff:

OKAY LISTEN I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE THINKING;;

BUT IT’S NOT JUST BC HE’S YOUR BIAS >o<;;

you guys are just rly good at picking compatible biases??

but honestly JinJin’s perfect for you <3

he reminds you not to be so hard on yourself

and to love yourself, you know~?

you love him unconditionally and he does the same for you~

you two are a good balance for each other

bc JinJin’s rly optimistic too

but sometimes it can blind him a lil bit?

so you help him remember to see things realistically

and he helps you remember to look on the bright side of things

idk it’s just super cute~~ <33

the way you two actually meet is adorable

JinJin really wants to improve his English

since he’s the leader and he wants to be able to communicate with Aroha better and everything

so someone at fantagio hires you

and you’re like YES now I can teach English in Korea this is so cool omg

but PLOT TWIST

you’re teaching English to the members of Astro :D

OH BOy;;

everything’s going great~

but in your sessions with them JinJin just seems to not be getting it?

so you pull him aside after the lesson and ask him if he’s having trouble with anything

and he’s like no no it’s fine

and you don’t believe him for a second bc he’s acting rly weird

and then he just kind of blurts out

“do you wanna go out sometime?”

and you’re like O///O

and he’s like >///>

he starts rambling about how he kept daydreaming in class about going out with you and if you two actually go on a date then maybe he can concentrate

and you cut him off with a small “sure”

and he’s like “... uh, great!”

so he takes you out to a cafe

and you two have coffee and talk about life

and as you talk he just slowly falls for you even more

he thinks your views on life are really beautiful

after a while he offers to walk you home

and you let him

and it’s kind of silent as you’re walking

and then once you get to your place

he says to you (in English) “can we do this again?”

and you’re so surprised

like he said it so fluently

you’re like (in English) “of course we can”

and he smiles and kisses your cheek

and he’s like (in English) “see you tomorrow~”

aaaaand from that day on he does much better in lessons...

and you two kind of have a thing~ <3

alright now time for other cute stufffffff

ok but his sense of humor is right up your alley

like he will absolutely text you puns throughout the day

and cheesy pick-up lines

but he’s actually surprised that you seem to love it?

and text them back??

like i think in that moment he realizes you’re “the one”

he’s also super duper supportive of your writing

like he always says that someday he can’t wait to tell people he knew you before you were a bestselling author <3

don’t think this man won’t buy you a Stitch onesie bc he 100% will;;

or if not a onesie, then he’ll totally get you and himself matching Stitch key chains <3

and sometimes he’ll try and do aegyo by imitating Stitch...

it usually doesn’t go well;;;;

but you find it cute regardless~

bc everything he does is cute lbrh

will oftentimes ask to share earbuds with you

bc it lowkey makes him feel like you’re sharing a part of your mind with each other, you know?

he finds that to be a rly cool thing

and he loves your taste in music

whenever you're in public together he makes sure that you’re as comfortable as possible

whether it be talking to people for you, putting an arm around your waist or your shoulders, or taking a break somewhere secluded

your comfort and happiness is his no. 1 priority

he’s like your cuddly personal bodyguard <3

speaking of cuddly...

he loves wrapping you up in his arms

and resting his head on top of yours

kissing your forehead

he loves hugging you

and being the big spoon~

playing with your hair

and just spending time with you honestly <3

he’s always there to comfort you

whenever you’re sad or frustrated

he’s there with ice cream, hugs, and comfy sweaters~

I AM A FIRM BELIEVER THAT A HUG FROM ACTUAL TEDDY BEAR PARK JINWOO CAN CURE ANY SADNESS IN THE WORLD;;

he also loves it when you “mother” him

like telling him to bundle up or eat dinner

he rly needs a nurturing person like you in his life

and loves getting those reminders that you care~

STARGAZING DATES <3

just laying down together on a blanket spread on the grass

crickets chirping and owls hooting

pointing out different constellations

and you look over

and see him staring at you

so you’re like

“what?”

and he’s like

“nothing, you’re just so much more dazzling than the stars~”

and brushes your hair behind your ear

and you smack his arm and hide your face in his chest

bc HELLO?? >///<

but he just grins and hugs you

and even though it’s cheesy, you know he means it <3

he probably likes calling you silly things~~

like honey bun, cuddle muffin, ladybug, precious, sweet pea, etc...

he’s always told you that once he’s rich and famous, he’ll take you travelling anywhere you want to go

and eventually you do~

one of your destinations is Switzerland, and JinJin books a scenic tour of the Swiss Alps for you two

you two have been together for a while now

and he feels ready

so he bought a ring a few weeks ago

he’s been carrying it around since your world trip started, waiting for the right moment (and place) to do the thing

i’m sorry;; i just love travel proposals okay??? <3

and as you two hike along the trail, he looks over only to find that you’ve gone off the path

and are taking photos of this tiny cluster of purple flowers growing behind a small boulder

tucked away from the world

he comes over and admires your look of concentration while attempting to capture the small burst of beauty on the rocky trail

he thinks it’s just like you to find the good in an otherwise mundane setting

and he just smiles

and gets down on one knee right then and there

because he knows that he’s found his soulmate~ <333

This Astro Ship has the Nessa Seal of Approval ~  ☆

Ships now CLOSED <3