#i am forcibly escorted from doubt street

[viric-dreams]

Thirteen Fantastic Correspondence Sigils That Can't Be Translated Into English

[chimmychanga1225]

Homeless: Damijon (1)

———

"You're fucking kidding", Damian practically groaned as he reluctantly walked into the school he blatantly didn't attend. Who the fuck did this cop think he was? He gave an "are you serious stare" to the overly peppy cop who escorted him to the local public school. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not supposed to be here! I need to find my mother."

"Don't worry, kid. I get it. Your almost in high school, you want to show your street cred, skipping school and all. Believe me, I was the same. But this isn't how you get somewhere in life. This isn't how you become popular or make friends. Now if you want to become a schmuck, you're going down the right path." The cop's earnest bright blue eyes, reflected back Damian's incredulous stare at the man.

"What dumb 50's movie did you steal that shit monologue from?" The cop's face lit up brighter than a Christmas tree telling Damian he definitely hit a soft spot. "My, err, roommate likes the old stuff, what can I say," he said sheepishly.

Damian scanned the man's face, picking up in the subtle smile lines and freckles. However, the more closely Damian studied him the redder his face became making it even harder to notice the details. "What the hell are you doin, kid?"

Damian sighed, leaning away from the cop. Why did he care so much, anyway? "Nothing," he replied, "just wondering what kind a person would stay with your ugly mug."

"Jerk."

"Sorry, ugly and brainless mug."

"Look, little dude. Just go to school, okay?" The cop began to restlessly look at his watch giving Damian a chance to catch a glimpse at his name tag. He squinted barely managing to differentiate the black lettering from the dark silver backing. "Clayton," Damian muttered curiously looking up to the cop.

It took the other a minute to catch the drift. "No, it's Grayson. Holy shirt, kid, how bad is your eye sight?"

"Do I really need to answer a question starting off with holy shirt?" Damian took a step away from the conversation, giving him a second to breathe. He massages his temples trying to soothe the oncoming headache away. "Why am I even entertaining this? Let's just agree to disagree on the whole school thing, Grayson. You can't make me go to a school I don't attend."

"You haven't even seen the half of it."

———

"I don't go here, I'm not even from this area! I was just waiting around for my mother you idiotic fools. Put me the hell down, motherfucker." Dick laughed as he saw the pill sized version of aggression being forcibly taken to algebra. He turned to the school's elderly principle with his classic smile.

"Thanks again, Mr. Fraiser. I didn't want to trouble you but-", he began but was quickly interrupted by the hunched but muscled elderly man clapping his back. "Anything for a respected alumn like you, Mr. Grayson. Having you visit here in your free time and not to mention all of the demonstrations you give the kids is truly an honor and a privilege . I know middle school has probably the toughest years for dealing with kids but the way you manage them is amazing. They love you!"

"You flatter me, Mr. Fraiser. I'll come by later to see if the hellion has everything settled. Thank you so much!" Mr. Fraiser bid goodbye shortly after, and left for his office. Dick sighed before glancing down the hallway the said hellion was dragged through earlier with a slight frown. "He's been standing there for days. Did he really expect to be picked up at that rate," he muttered to himself.

He patted his pockets looking for the keys to his cruiser, still deep in thought. "Really hope I didn't just abduct someone."

———

"This shitty establishment is giving me a fucking headache. Where is she?" Damian cursed Talia in every language he knew, knowing the devilish woman had something planned. Suddenly his phone rang. After witnessing a child lose their phone to one of the overgrown fools, he knew he should discreetly take the call. After hiding the flip phone in his hoodie, he immediately went off.

"It better be fucking worth it Al Ghul. I've been wanting to stab my eyes out since the first shriek that came out of the bat called Ms. Tyler."

"Patience, son," Talia emphasized, "I'm on a trip, so I can't pick you up. Figure something out while I'm gone. Keep your phone on you."

"Whatever." With a raged filled, yet satisfactory snap, he finished the call. He pulled away from his phone, letting it slide down the back of his hoodie into his hand. "At least it's just for today."

———

As kids practically sprinted away from the building to their parents' car, Damian fell in with the crowd to hide himself, determined to avoid the police car sitting in the middle of the lane with its sirens running. He could clearly see the police man from earlier waiting patiently and calmly despite the loud wail resounding from the car. "Fucking psycho," Damian muttered.

He shuffled away easily blending into the environment. He didn't have time to play with the man child, Damian needed to find somewhere to crash temporarily. He worriedly glanced at his watch. With the amount of time he wasted in school today, he was already behind schedule. "I'm so screwed."

"Wish I could say the same." Damian would like to say he didn't scream like a chick when he heard the voice directly by his ear. He really wishes he could. He turned around, startled to see a slightly taller girl standing behind him. "You insane mother fucker, what do you think your doing?"

"The name is Barbara, twerp."

Damian could feel weirdo vibes coming off of her, but he didn't have the energy or time to waste in her. He kept walking. "Hey, where are you going!?"

"Just saying this now, cougars aren't my type lady."

"As opposed to the sexy policeman that’s waiting for you over there?”

“How perverted are you, dude? Lay off.” Damian tried to speed walk away from the Barbara careful not pick up his speed too to avoid catching Grayson’s attention. Unfortunately, Barbara has longer legs to start with and had no problem with the speed picking up a bit.

“Sorry, it was a weird way to start a conversation, but I’m bored, I’m going this way, and you’re here. Wanna be friends?”

“No. Now leave me alone.” Damian’s cold hearted reply only seemed to encourage Barbara to pry even more. “Come on Twerp, I know you want to be friends. Just say it. ‘Please Barbara, I’m truly alone and lost in this world of middle school and I just want one dear friend. Please, oh please be my bestie for life’. Just like that.”

Damian felt minutes away from punching the girl. He turned on his heel sharply to face the girl. “What will take for you to leave me alone!?”

“Haven’t you’ve been listening? Just be my friend, idiot.”

——— 1 year later———

Damian’s entire body seemed to shiver at a frequency previously unrecorded by scientists. His finger tips almost seemed blue. He reached for his phone once more, dialing the familiar number. “Barbara, you better hurry the fuck up.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, but debate club held me up for a while. I swear I’ll drive you back. Just give me 5 minutes to get down there.”

“2 minutes and I’m gone.”

“Stupid twerp.” Damian snapped the phone shut and shoved his hands and phone back into his pocket, searching for any trace of the previous warmth he had. Just as the promised 2 minutes came to an end, a panting Barbara emerged from her high school’s steps, glaring at Damian. “I was on the fourth floor, you idiot. I had to sprint from the opposite end of school too. I could’ve died!”

“Save the complaining for later, Gordon. You owe me a dinner.”

———

“... and Kathy is just the cutest. She gets flustered over anything and everything and oh my God, please tell me that’s our food. I’m starving.”

“Wow, I never thought it was possible to talk fifteen minutes straight without breathing, but here you are proving me wrong again, Gordon.” Barbara rolled her eyes, but a playfully smiled remained on her lips. The waiter quickly and haphazardly placed down their food, before running to deliver the next table’s serving.

“The diner is the same as ever. Under staffed and messy.” Damian’s classic frown morphed into an even more disgusted expression as he noticed an old piece of chewed gum stuck to the window next to him.

“But you love it.” Barbara said before turning to her back pack, looking for something. “I put it here somew- ah”, Barbara exclaimed, a smile illuminating her face.

She carefully pulled out a bagged smushed cupcake which was staples to another plastic bag with a candle and lighter. She presented the baggies with a proud look. “Happy birthday!”

“Oh, you actually remembered that? I thought you were joking,” Damian said, actually a little shocked. The weeks following their first meeting, Barbara and Damian grew to actually be good friends, much to Damian’s surprise. At the rate he’s going, maybe he just attracts crazy people. When Barbara’s birthday finally swung around she got curious about Damian’s, who was just as clueless as her.

“Well, how could I forget the birthday I made up for my best friend?” Damian’s cheeks turned bright red, still not used to the endearment and care Barbara constantly sends out.

“I’m your best friend,” he asked shyly.

“Of course. And naturally I’m your’s Damian because, in all honesty, I doubt you talk to anyone else your age outside of me and Kate. You’re just too much of an awkward little twerp.”

“I could be friends with someone younger or older than me.”

“Damian if there’s anything you hate more than people your age, it’s people younger than you. And your first immediate reaction to someone older interacting with you is to insult them. Wow, now it’s my turn to be shook. How did I even deal with you!?”

“Shut up and light my birthday cupcake, Gordon.” Barbara let out another body quaking laugh, unable to take Damian’s outraged expressions. “Okay, you big baby. Give me a second.”

Barbara tried her best to take the cupcake out with care, but her back pack has already done its damage. Half the icing was lost to the baggie and her fingers and the candle snapped in half. Damian snickered as he watched Barbara struggle with the crappy Teen Titan’s lighter she bought from CVS. “Finally,” she exclaimed when the candle was lit.

“To keep this from getting awkward, I’m not gonna sing, but I still want to embarrass you, so SMILE!” Damian flinched away from the flash of her camera before shooting her a disgruntled frown. He never liked pictures that much, but even he couldn’t prevent a smile creeping on his face when he saw Barbara squealing over how cute the pictures are. “I can’t wait to show these to Kathy!” She said pulling off a chunk of cupcake.

“Show it to her and you die, Gordon,” Damian threatened. Barbara took another picture while giggling mischievously. “Sure,” she drawled. She put away the camera.

A short but comfortable silence settled in their usual booth at Red’s Diner. After eating a mix of the sugary cupcake and their evening pancakes, Barbara called for the bill. “I can’t believe it’s over already. I don’t want to leave you yet, Dami. Maybe we can have a sleepover!”

“I’ll pass, Barbie,” he said, in a mocking tone. Damian began to gather his stuff, to prepare to leave when he caught Barbara pouting on the opposite side of the booth. He sighed, knowing he would regret this. “I’m not saying okay to a sleepover, but we can hang out longer if you want.”

“Awesome! Let’s go,” Barbara practically yelled, slamming money on the table, and zooming past Damian. He figured that if he didn’t want to lose the crack filled five year old, he better quicken his pace. “Wait up!”

———

Damian cursed Barbara’s height for the fifth time tonight. He was still regrettably shorter than the girl meaning he was slower as well. “Jesus Christ Barbara, I told you to fuckin wait,” he wheezed, finally having caught up to Usain Bolt Jr.

“You’re just slow, Dami.”

“Whatever.” Barbara and Damian slowed to a walking pace comfortable for both of them, taking in the area’s surrounding. “Where do you want to go,” Damian asked. “We probably have maybe five more hours before I have to go.”

Barbara kept quiet, which was basically taking 180 degree turn, personality wise. “Barbara,” Damian called out, slightly more worried now.

“I think I’m gonna tell my dad, Damian. About me and Kate. I don’t want to keep sneaking around him.” Damian wasn’t necessarily surprised. He felt her reaching her limit for some time, but why now?

“Did something happen at school?”

“Just some jerks. Nothing big.”

“‘Kay. Let me know if you want them dead later, though.” Barbara laughed although Damian wasn’t really joking. “Kind gesture, but I don’t even care to give them the time of day. It’s not like they’re anyone important, but my dad... if anything I just want to get it off my chest.”

Damian gave a slight nod and hesitantly hugged his friend. “Good luck, Barbara.”

“Thanks, Damian.”

———

I promised it like months ago, so I’m not sure if anyone cares anymore but whatever. Here’s the Damijon fic. Hope you like it. I already wrote out part 2, so if it isn’t up by tomorrow, feel free to attack me. Happy new year! Wowza none of this was Damijon, but it’s gonna get there.

[project-ml]

Project: Mon Coeur — Mystery Date

Mystery Date

Project: Mon Coeur Masterpost (tbp)

Written by @ladybugandblackchat

Beta-ed by @shadybug

Word Count: 2212

Ao3 | G+ | WP | YouTube | Twitter | IG

Summary: When the school decides to host a mystery date event for Valentine’s Day, Marinette can’t help but be nervous. It could be anyone, absolutely anyone, and we all know Chloe will have rigged it so that she gets Adrien all to herself. But, this is Valentine ’s Day, and seldom goes as planned and results in far more being shared than ever intended.

“I can’t do this,” Marinette complained to her reflection, Tikki floating behind her.  Marinette was wearing a simple but beautiful crimson wrap dress that accentuated her eyes and stopped just above her knees. Alya had helped her pick it out just the other day, but of course, Marinette had made some modifications to it. “Why did I ever agree to this?” she continued, groaning.

“Because mystery dates are fun, Marinette!” Tikki responded, grinning and flying before Marinette’s gaze now. “No expectations, all of that mystery. What isn’t there to like?” Tikki continued, her voice full of joy and excitement.

“What if I get someone weird? Or what if I get Chloe? Or Kim?”

“I thought you liked Kim?” Tikki countered.

“I do! He’s a really good friend, but not for a Valentine’s mystery date.” Marinette sighed, adjusting her hair before turning and walking to retrieve her heels. She didn’t dress up often, but Alya’s encouragement and the possibility of a blond-haired boy being present had left her with little choice.

“Didn’t most of the upper school sign up for the mystery date, Marinette?” Tikki wondered aloud after a moment.

“Yeah, so did Adrien. Me and Alya saw him put his name into the box, but Chloé has probably rigged it so she gets set up with him.”

“Marinette, have hope,” Tikki implored. “You’re lucky, and I have no doubt that today will go wonderfully. Remember, you’re Ladybug, you can do anything!”

Marinette couldn’t help but smile at Tikki’s enthusiasm. “Tell that to my algebra homework!” she teased, rolling her eyes but her smile never fading. I can do this, I CAN do this!

---

I can’t do this! Marinette screamed internally; she was standing outside of the restaurant at which the school mystery date was to take place. La Prairie was its name, and while it was a simple enough café/restaurant in the centre of Paris, they had of course gone all out with the Valentine’s Day decorations. Hearts were hung everywhere, and roses adorned the tables she could see through the windows. They even had candles on every single table! Fiddling with her spotted earrings and her clutch purse nervously, Marinette took a deep breath and pushed the door to the restaurant open, a little bell ringing as she stepped in.

The place was as she imagined it, dimly lit but for the pale lights above and the candlelight of each table flickering a little brighter than her own waning courage. This was going to go so wrong! She gulped, and slowly walked towards the waiter who stood by a podium waiting for any and all guests.

“Excuse me, sir,” Marinette began slowly, forcing a smile despite her nerves.

“Yes, madame, how can I help you?” the waiter beamed.

Marinette relaxed a little. “I’m here on the school mystery date? I didn’t know if we waited here or...?”

The waiter nodded. “Of course, from Lycee Françoise Dupont right? We have you all on this side of the restaurant. That way if you get nervous, your friends aren’t far away.”

Marinette nodded and followed the waiter as he lead her through the labyrinth of chairs, tables, customers, and of course, other waiters. She was starting to really relax now; the atmosphere was so calming. She didn’t know if it was the warmth of the place, or the smell of delicious food wafting in from the kitchen, but it had the desired effect. She straightened as she weaved her way through the many tables and the waiter indicated her seat. It was set just like the rest, but it was placed with a clear view of the large windows that adorned the front of the restaurant, giving her a gorgeous view of the Paris streets.

The waiter pulled a seat out. “Please, madame, your partner is not here yet, but I am sure he will arrive soon. In the meantime, I will bring you a menu and something to drink.”

Marinette beamed at the service and took her seat graciously. “Just water for now please, and thank you, sir.”

“My pleasure,” he continued, nodding and backing away as Marinette settled herself into her chair.

This was nice. The general hum of the busy restaurant calmed her. It reminded her of home in a strange sense, but also, knowing that the guests were too busy to pay attention to one measly teenage girl was comforting. The waiter returned quickly and delivered the food menu and a tall glass of water with a smile. Thanking the waiter, Marinette turned her attention to her clutch bag. Inside was her phone, her house keys, lipstick, two packets of cookies, and of course, Tikki. Placing the clutch on her lap and opening the top ever so slightly, Marinette leaned down to speak with Tikki while pretending to read the menu.

“Are you okay Tikki?” Marinette whispered, her eyes glazing over the starters as she spoke.

“Uh huh… Yeah,” Tikki whispered back after an audible gulp. “I have my cookies, don’t worry about me. Just relax and enjoy the evening. Who is your mystery date?”

“I have no idea, they’re not here yet,” Marinette half-complained; she wanted to know who it was, but arriving after them would have been hell. At least this way, it would be a surprise. Smiling at Tikki, Marinette closed her clutch and placed it beside her chair; whatever was going to happen tonight was going to happen. Deciding on onion soup as her starter, Marinette put the menu down and took in the surrounding guests. She recognised a few of her classmates: Sabrina who appeared to be waiting for someone, as were Kim and Ivan. The sight of Juleka and Rose sitting together brought a smile to her face. At least one mystery date turned out right. Then she heard the bell go and a familiar voice introduced itself: Chloé Bourgeois. Marinette stifled a groan but couldn’t help rolling her eyes. Here she was, the queen bee, all ready to rig the mystery date just to get an hour with Adrien. She found herself getting angry at the thought and quickly shook her head. Come on Marinette, even Chloé can’t rig pulling names out of a hat… can she? From the corner of her eye Marinette spotted Chloé being escorted to a table in the far corner of the restaurant by another waiter. She was wearing a strapless, bright yellow bodycon dress with black heels. Marinette begrudgingly admitted to herself that Chloe could at least walk in heels.

“Madame, can I interest you in some wine?”

Marinette turned her eyes from Chloé and up to the waiter who stood before her table, a large bottle of wine in hand. Biting her lip and glancing at the two empty wine glasses on her table, Marinette nodded. “Please, sir.” As the wine was poured and the waiter walked away, Marinette took a quick sip of the deep set liquid. She needed something to settle her nerves and the warm, red liquid was exactly that.

Minutes passed by and Marinette sipped the wine a little more, wondering when her mystery date would show up. It couldn’t be much longer.

“Oh Adrien, I’m over here!” a voice suddenly shouted across the restaurant. Looking up in shock, Marinette saw Chloé waving to a tall, handsome, blond boy. Adrien. Marinette gulped as the waiter escorting Adrien walked closer to her, likely taking Adrien to Chloé. It wasn’t fair, Chloé always did this! Now they were by her table, and Adrien looked nervous, likely the result of Chloé’s loud, public outburst.

“Miss Bourgeois, please remain civil, we have many guests here and you’re disturbing them,” the waiter beside Adrien declared forcibly, looking directly at Chloé until she sat back down in her seat.

At least someone knows how to tell Chloé off, Marinette mused internally.

“I apologise, sir,” the waiter began, turning back to Adrien. “This is your seat. I will bring a menu to you immediately.”

Marinette glanced up as the waiter spoke. They were still so close; was Adrien sitting behind her? She hoped so. She was wrong. The waiter was indicating the seat in front of her! AT HER TABLE! ADRIEN WAS SITTING WITH HER!

Adrien nodded politely, “Thank you, sir. I’m sorry about the disturbance,” and sat down, but not before he removed his suit jacket and placed it on the back of the chair. Beneath his suit jacket, Adrien wore a well-fitted white shirt and black trousers, his shoes a deep maroon in colour and at his collar a simple bowtie.

“Good evening, Marinette,” Adrien began, a small smile on his face.

Marinette was internally screaming. Adrien was opposite her, Adrien was talking to her, ADRIEN WAS HER MYSTERY DATE! Was this a dream? Was she dead? Did she get hit by a car on the way over here? If this was a dream please let it never end.

Marinette took another quick sip of her wine and forced herself to respond to the most handsome man on the planet. “Evening, Adrien.” She could feel her cheeks going red from the mere act of talking to him… or maybe it was the wine?

“What are you drinking?” he continued, indicating Marinette’s glass.

Marinette side eyed the glass which was now missing about a third of its contents. “Well, it’s wine… red wine. I didn’t look at the brand,” she added worriedly. I bet I sound like an alcoholic! “I’m not exactly an expert on it, I don’t drink often,” she confessed.

“Neither do I,” Adrien shrugged with a smile, “but I think if there’s any time for wine, it’s tonight.” Following on his words, Adrien caught the attention of a nearby waiter. “Excuse me, sir, could I get a glass of the wine my lady is having?”     

The waiter nodded, “Of course, sir,” and immediately departed in search of the wine.

Marinette bit her lip as Adrien turned back to her, his emerald gaze clashing with her own celestial one. “My lady?” she queried, her cheeks warm at the thought.

“Well, we are on a date. Aren’t we?” Adrien argued, smiling at her with something pure.

“Yeah… yeah I guess we are,” Marinette beamed. She was on a date with Adrien! How the hell was she going to talk to him!?

Marinette fiddled with her hair as the waiters brought out dessert. She couldn’t have told anyone what they exactly had for dinner. Adrien had suggested the Chef’s special and she had agreed. It had, of course, been delicious, but what exactly it was, she had no clue; she had been too preoccupied by her golden haired boy.  All through dinner they had talked. It had been easy; Adrien was funny as well as polite, even if he did use a lot of puns. She didn’t know why it was so easy though. Adrien seemed relaxed--maybe he was relieved he wasn’t with Chloé? But she was just finding it so easy to talk to him.

As the waiter placed the dessert before them, Marinette couldn’t help but adore Adrien’s gorgeous emerald eyes--they sparkled brighter than any star to her. She smiled, her cheeks warm and glowing. Taking a final sip of her wine, Marinette put the empty glass down and grinned at Adrien, who was graciously accepting his own dessert. He just seemed so familiar; it was as if they had spoken like this a million times before. Even Adrien’s golden locks looked more familiar in this dim light.

“Are you okay Marinette?” Adrien queried. She seemed in a daydream state.

Marinette straightened suddenly. “Uh, yeah, yeah of course,” she lied. I was staring! Damn it Marinette!

“Well, my lady,” he smiled, in so familiar a fashion, “as long as you’re not going to dessert me?”

Marinette internally cursed herself for smiling. “No comment,” she began. Was he flirting with her? Was he like Chat? All puns? Well, at least she could handle that. She took a deep breath. “I was actually curious, Adrien. That suit of yours, it is your father’s brand right?”

Adrien nodded. “Yeah of course, I do rather like it,” he admitted.

“I thought so,” Marinette nodded. She could feel the wine warming her cheeks as she continued, “I saw it at your dad’s last show, although,” she looked directly at Adrien, “none of the models wore it as well as you do.”

Adrien could feel his cheeks flush at the compliment and his lips curve into a smile. He heard them a lot, granted. But there was something about Marinette--there was a glint in her eyes and a curve to her lips that sung of something so familiar to him, but he just couldn’t place it. But he loved it nevertheless.

“Well thank you, but it is you who is beautiful tonight, bugaboo,” Adrien countered with an instinctive, flirtatious wink.

Marinette couldn’t help but roll her eyes, her cheeks reddening at the oh-so-familiar flirtation. “Oh, come on Chat, how many times have I told you not to call me that,” she sighed jokingly before sitting straight. Oh no.

Adrien dropped his fork, the metal clanging against the plate. His gaze shot up and locked with a set of eyes with a familiar gleam. “My lady?” he all but whispered.

[sunrisetune]

#you turn your newspaper page and it spontaneously combusts #i am forcibly escorted from doubt street (via viric-dreams)

Thirteen Fantastic Correspondence Sigils That Can't Be Translated Into English