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anothertimdrakestan · 4 years ago

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Total Flirt

Jason Todd x Reader

Words: 1.3k

Requested? Yes! From a lovely anon!

“could you do 28 from the prompt list ("are you flirting with me?" "thank god you finally noticed") with jason todd??”

LINK TO PROMPTS -> REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN!

I wanted to do a reader works with Dick and Jason finds her but I hated the idea of writing as cop right now so we are saying fuck canon Dick Grayson is a child gymnastics teacher! Idea courtesy of the Batfam Support Group Discord!!! The people are so amazing and kind and supportive it’s crazy - any batfam artists and writers need to join asap!

“Yes you did it!” you cheered, reaching to high-five Quinton, the eight year old who just mastered his standing back tuck. The beaming child threw himself into your arms then proceeded to do another jump. Letting him go get some water and a quick break you moved over to help Dick who was trying to convince a beginner that standing on a beam two inches off the ground wasn’t scary. Together, with coaxing words, she got on the beam and begun taking her first steps forward.

Between the two successes and many other wins and losses, it was an unbelievably long day. As your final classes finished you joined Dick in rolling up mats and cleaning up some of the loose chalk. With a sigh you moved on to your shared office and began wiping down boards and rewriting tomorrow’s schedule. “Long day?” a familiar voice jumped you out of your own thoughts. Whipping your head to the voice, you saw Dick’s friend Jason Todd. Occasionally he would pick Dick up for “nightly activities” which you assumed meant a relationship. The two bantered like a married couple, Dick always mothering Todd, who was a bit of a loose cannon and an intense flirt. You couldn’t really figure out the relationship between the two, and part of it was because of the way Jason talked to (and about) you.

You remembered the last time he picked Dick up. You had a late night private lesson with Dick’s younger brother Damian. The kid was untrained but crazy talented and strong. Dick begged you to teach him because he wouldn’t listen to Dick and usually ended up threatening his older brother with sharp objects. So, after a long night of explaining that you were a gymnast not skilled fighter and trying to show the boy basic gym skills he’d missed in previous “training” you went to grab Dick from the back where he was cleaning mat covers. To your surprise, Jason was there too. Not being much help he leaned against a shipment of foam cubes complaining about something to Dick. His eyes shot up when you walked in, his face easily falling into his usual smirk. As you walked closer you noticed his eyes fall down your figure, slowly raising again to meet your eyes with no shame. Butterflies erupted in your stomach, wondering if you had a stain on your shirt you brushed him off, turning to Dick. “Hey D your lil bro is done, I think he learned something hopefully so let me know if you need another” Dick nodded and looked over to Damian. Eyes widening he sprung up, “Damian NO!” and he took after Damian who you couldn’t sworn had a literal sword, but it was late. “So y/n got plans tonight?” Jason cocked his head grinning at you. “Oh not really, gonna go home and relax. Maybe pickup some dinner” you shrugged, confused as to why Jason was interested in you. Before he could reply Dick was calling Jason over, J looked annoyed to be pulled from you but he left before you could figure out what his goals were that night.

One of your favorite Jason-themed memories was when he took a lesson with you after he lost what seemed to be an intense bet. He said he’d had training when he was younger but you could tell now his skill had frozen over and been replaced with a reckless need to complete whatever he’s assigned no matter what. Reckless. After going over the necessity behind a perfect back handspring and letting him practice on the bounce track he was ready for the mats. Somehow he got turned around (?) and ended up flipping on to you, the two of you landing with him on top of you, arms cased next to your shoulder. Being just inches away from Jason was breathtaking, neither moving out of the other’s presence for just a second longer than you should’ve. Snapping out of his trance, you moved to get up and he hopped off of you. At the end of the lesson he went to leave, not before turning around saying “I think I’ll have to take more lessons if it means your there to catch me y/n” and with a wink he left, leaving you confused, but excited.

Now he was in the same relaxed position against the wall in your office. “God Jason you scared me! Yeah it was long, I guess I’m just gonna go relax, the usual” the butterflies appeared again, you smiled trying to peak over to Dick to see if he was coming towards the office. Jason filled you in, “uh Dick doesn’t know I’m here” he gestured to the back door which you could’ve sworn was locked. “Oh uh, are you surprising him?” you closed the door leaving just you and Jason alone. Again his eyes cascaded down and back up, no smirk this time. He looked sincere and slightly nervous, but after the second of doubt he wiped it off with a grin. “I’m here for you gorgeous” he started towards you with a wink, closing the distance between you in a few strides.

Then it all made sense.

The late nights where he picked up Dick but always tried to talk to you, comments on your skill and how great you were, and the stolen glances he was always taking: Jason liked you. Unable to contain the revelation; you placed your hand on his chest, looking up at him. “Have you been flirting with me?” you questioned, and he let out a relieved sigh. “Thank GOD you finally noticed!” he grinned. Shocked you were excited that he’d taken a liking to you, he was totally cute, your age, type, way taller than you, not to mention ripped and- “mph” as thoughts raced about how totally hot he was you didn’t realize Jason leaning down, closing the distance between your lips. Smiling into the kiss you bunched up his shirt, pulling him closer to you. Fitting together perfectly, his hands wrapped around your waist, holding you sweetly.

“There’s no mission this time is there” you gasped, pulling away from Jason to see Dick leaning against the office door. Sheepishly you slid out of Jason’s grasp, his hand moving to the small of your back. “Sorry D I came for y/n this time” Jason grinned while Dick rolled his eyes. “Whatever I’m going home” Dick smiled at you and gave Jason a glare. “I don’t care if you’re my brother I’ll beat you up if you mess this one up” Dick quipped before leaving. “Trust me I know this is special” Jason retorted as Dick walked away, grabbing your hand and giving it a tug.

The two of you somehow made it back to Jason’s apartment. It was messy but it was warm and comforting. Seated on his couch the two of you questioned each other about your lives, the feeling of just being in the other’s presence just felt right. “So, what did Dick mean by ‘another mission’ is that where you guys go cuz I just thought you were dating or something” you admitted, and Jason was stuck somewhere between a grimace, embarrassment, and laughter. “Well obviously he’s my adoptive brother not secret lover, that’s an easy one. And mission is something we do with our family, it’s boring but I can tell you about it later if you stick around” seeing as it was your first “date” on his couch you let it rest, happy to finally understand the relationship between the brothers.

“I think I’ll definitely be sticking around” you grinned, scooting over to give him a quick peck. With the grin that continued to give you butterflies, he squeezed your hand. “I think I’d like that princess”

#jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd fluff #dick grayson #dick grayson x friend!reader #dick grayson x platonic!reader #dc fluff #damian wayne #jason todd au #jason todd x y/n

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eusaint · 4 years ago

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𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆: saint kothari.

hi friends ! i was supposed to post this yesterday, but as per usual, i’m off schedule by a whole ass day. my name’s fox, i’m currently twenty-three years old in the brt timezone. my pronouns are she/they, but i’m really not picky at all about it. i haven’t joined a new group in a good few months ? everyone seems so nice, though, i can’t wait to plot with all of you ! this is my mess trashcan baby saint, if you want to plot with him feel free to like or or message me ! if you’d rather chat on discord, feel free to hit me up at oscar isaac pipe me tnx#9349

⟨ AVAN JOGIA. CIS MALE. HE/HIM. ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, SAINT KOTHARI is actually a descendent of H E C A T E. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-FOUR year old ASTROPHYSICS MAJOR from CHICAGO, USA has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite INTELLIGENT & MANIPULATIVE.

𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄.

born into a moderately wealthy, hard-working family, saint never felt like he truly belonged. he didn’t belong in the predominantly white school he attended, he didn’t belong with the old money neighbors of their suburb, he didn’t even feel like he belonged with his family-- between his absent father and his snobby stepmother, saint grew up believing there was no place on earth for him.

from a young age, saint presented signs of mystiokinesis; more specifically prophecies— it has always been the small things, such as being able to tell when a car crash was about to happen, or even when someone was getting sick. his father called it intuition, but his stepmother always shushed him when he had a premonition, no matter how small. as saint grew older, his premonitions became slightly more sharp, and nowadays he’s able to predict more accurate things; if you should avoid the left side of the sidewalk that week, if it’s going to rain that day, and at least half of the lottery numbers. he also has presented a mild touch for necromancy, being able to receive and pass along messages from the dead; it works almost as a game of telephone, however, and the young man is hardly ever able to hear the correct sentence.

at the age of fifteen, saint left home. after a particularly bad fight with his stepmother, saint packed a small bag and ran away. he spent the next couple of months couch hopping, sleeping in bus stations and doing small jobs in exchange for food; it was during that last venture where he met eric saryan, a local mobster that needed someone quiet and discreet to make drug runs for him.

saint spent the next five years of his life working for eric. the money wasn’t great, but it was stable enough for him to be able to maintain himself. on his down time, saint worked as a psychic. he would do consultations on his living room, and read tarot cards over the phone; his mystiokinesis has never been strong enough for perfect predictions, but he’s always been smart and good at reading people, which also meant saint is a great liar. he’d bullshit his clients a lot, and getting something extremely specific right every so often meant that a lot of them kept coming back.

at the age of twenty, saint was arrested for possession of a small amount of cocaine. the mob abandoned him on sight, and he had no choice but to call his father for bail; it was a lot of money, and the man was willing to shell it out as long as saint made a promise of coming back home and getting his life together; he was forced to spend six months in a rehabilitation facility, and once that was done, he needed to either find a job, or go back to school.

incredibly intelligent, saint always had a love for physics. after trying a few odd jobs and getting fired from them all, he decided to finally go back to college for astrophysics; eonia university was his father’s choice, thinking that if saint was far away enough from the gang, then he wouldn’t feel compelled to get back into it.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 / 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄.

saint is a mess. despite being an adult who’s lived by himself for the past ten years, the man can barely keep himself alive. he doesn’t put much effort into classes, not that interested in getting a diploma, spending most of his time drinking and partying on campus.

incredibly chaotic, he doesn’t hold back on any of his whims. if saint wants something, no matter how hard or ludicrous, he’ll immediately go after it. prone to criminal activity, saint loves the forbidden, from skipping class to vandalism, if something sketchy is going on, you can bet saint is involved somehow.

an adrenaline junkie, saint will put himself and the ones around him in harm’s way for a fix. his most recent addiction is street racing; considering how bad of a driver he is, it’s surprising he hasn’t gotten seriously injured yet.

raging bisexual with major daddy issues.... but aren’t we all ?

he’s 5′11″, with long-ish hair and a short beard. saint wears very colorful clothing, mostly patterned button downs, and he has a large collection of sunglasses. he has way too many shitty tattoos, including the name of two exes, and a ring on his septum.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

a BEST FRIEND / saint and this person met during their first year, and they instantly clicked. they know each other better than anyone else, and you’ll never see one without the other.

a RIVAL / another party person, they have a rivalry where they are constantly trying to out-do each other during parties and outings; if one of them chugs a bottle of beer, the other will chug two etc. they are definitely very messy and bad for each other.

a GOOD INFLUENCE / someone that sees saint for who he is, the soft layers underneath the bad boy persona, and often tries to bring that out of him.

a SIBLING-LIKE RELATIONSHIP / they are each other’s cornerstone, bickering constantly but still dying for one another; saint often tells them he would rather have them as family than his own half-siblings.

a HATE SHIP / they hate each other, but still can’t get enough of each other; they fight constantly, and those altercations always end up in a bed, or angry sex in the local bar’s bathroom, or frenetic make out sessions at the library.

a FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS / they like to get on, but they also enjoy each other’s company outside of the bedroom; be it in a study group, or just hanging out on a friday night, saint always says the sex is just the cherry on top of their no-strings-attached relationship.

a ONE NIGHT STAND / for some reason, their little affair didn’t work out. maybe they even tried to go on a date after their night together but the chemistry just wasn’t there; maybe it’s super awkward, maybe they became really good friends afterwards.

FRIENDS OF ALL KINDS / literally all of the friendship ideas.

#i'm so rusty!!!!!#euintro

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ericsonclan · 4 years ago

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A Spooky Good Time

Summary: The group of friends spend Halloween together enjoying all the candy and movies that come with it.

Notes: This is chapter 19 of the Persona AU if you want to read more or start from the beginning click here

Read on A03:

Clementine couldn’t believe it. She had told her friends about her boyfriend before she had told Lee. Dreading the conversation, she rolled out of bed dragging her feet towards the dining room table.

“Morning. sweetpea,” Lee called out from behind the stove. The smell of bacon wafted through the air.

“Morning, Lee,” Clementine stifled a yawn as she sat down at the table across from her brother. It was only a few moments before a plate of breakfast appeared before her. Eggs, bacon and toast covered her plate. She began to dig in, her fork piling the food into her mouth. Clementine wanted to enjoy every last bite of the food, but her nerves made it hard to do so.

Lee seemed to pick up on it, pausing his eating and looking at his daughter. “Clem, is there something on your mind?” he asked, looking over at her with concern.

Clementine placed down her fork.She should just go for it.“There’s something that I need to tell you…” Clementine took a deep breath. “I’m dating someone. His name is Louis. You've seen him a few times when he’s dropped by.”

AJ looked up from his plate.“The guy with that big spider hair?”

Clementine chuckled, “It’s called dreadlocks,”

She turned her attention away from her brother, glancing over at Lee who seemed deep in thought. Slowly he lifted up his coffee. “I’m glad for you. He seems like a good kid,”

Her nervous expression was changed to one of shock at his words. She reached over for her orange juice, taking a long sip from it. He lifted the cup to his mouth, muffling his words. “ I’m seeing someone too.”

Clementine choked on her orange juice, hitting her chest a few times before she could give a response. “What the hell, Lee! When were you going to tell me?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He gave a stern look back, but his eyes seemed playful.

“Well, who is she?” Clementine asked, leaning forward in her chair.

“Her name is Carley Porter. She’s a news reporter who was doing a piece on the university and we sort of just hit it off.” A gentle smile appeared on his lips at the memory.

Wait, I’ve heard that name before…

She was the reporter on the news station that had covered the first two cases that Clementine and her friends had been involved in.

“Hit it off?’ AJ asked, confusion overtaking his features. The eggs on his fork slipped off and landed on his plate.

“It’s a phrase that means you immediately get along with them,” Clementine responded, looking towards her father for further clarity.

“Well, I guess it makes sense that we did get along so well,” Lee started. “She reports the news of today, I report the news of the past. It just works.”

Clementine’s head was still trying to process all that just happened when her phone suddenly buzzed. Looking down, she noticed it was two texts from Louis to different group chats.

“Is that him?” Lee asked with a teasing smile. Clementine felt her face slightly blush at the words.

“I’m done, I’ll see you later after classes.” She slipped out before either of them could reply. Her class didn’t start for a while so she had time to check what Louis had sent.

L: Hey there! So thanks to the brilliance of Aasim and myself we came up with the wise idea to start two Discord servers. One will be for persona topics only and the other will be just for the daily chats with all you lovely people that we all enjoy so much.

Below his text was the link to get access to the server. Clementine switched to the second text and realized the reason for two servers Prisha was added to this group text. A warm smile covered her face; she was glad that they had thought to add her. It meant that they could still include her without worrying about spilling their secret. Quickly making a Discord account, she paused. What should her username be?

A proud smile pulled on the corners of her lips as she entered the answer. After a few minutes the two servers were added and she entered the non-persona one, fittingly named Team Fun. Entering the basic channel, she saw that she wasn’t the first one to arrive.

Sing-us-a-song: Welcome to Team Fun!

Knife2meetU: Why is it called team fun?

Aasim: I couldn’t come up with anything better so Louis named it.

Bro: I like it.

OrangeuGlad: wait we should do introductions. This is Clementine.

Sing-us-a-song: That’s a good idea! This is Louis. Love the username Clem.

Knife2meetU: Violet

OrangeuGlad: Thanks

Aasim: I’ll add an introduction channel to be safe in case we forget. So be sure to add your info.

Sing-us-a-song: Who’s Bro?

Bro: It’s Brody. I tried to add my full name cause I couldn’t think of a username but I forgot the last two letters and by then it was too late.

Aasim: You can change it.

Sing-us-a-song: No don’t! Your username is good

OrangeuGlad: I need to go - have class.

Clementine closed the app on her phone. Her class was all the way across campus so she needed to leave now if she was going to be on time. Her classes were just the same old same old. A very long lecture filled with lots and lots of notes that she had to take, causing her hand to cramp up. As soon as she had a break she opened up the Discord again. Nothing much had been added since she left, just the others saying they needed to go too. It had only got interesting within the last half hour.

Sing-us-a-song: You ever just smell your finger and it stinks but you don’t know from what?

Knife2meetU: Louis Shut In class

Sing-us-a-song: well sorry that I had an important question to ask.

With that Clementine put away her phone. She was planning to meet with her professor soon. The rest of the day went by about as slowly as the first half. It seemed everyone was busy today so when her classes were done she went back home. Kicking off her shoes, she hopped up the stairs entering her bedroom and lying on the bed. Wonder if anything else was said in the chat.

It wasn’t much added to the chat, just a single message.

Prishafacie: Thank you for letting me join.

Clementine looked at the username. Prishafacie? Knowing Prisha, it was some smart play on words. Soon more messages appeared.

Bro: Prisha!! Glad you joined

Sing-us-a-song: it wouldn’t be the same without you.

OrangeuGlad: welcome to Team Fun

Sing-us-a-song: ^^^

Prishafacie: Thanks, everyone.

Knife2meetU: I hate everything.

Bro: bad day?

Sing-us-a-song: well fear not I have a solution.

Aasim: Oh no.

Sing-us-a-song: why don’t we all get together for Halloween and throw a party? We never celebrated all our work on the investigation.

Prishafacie: But our investigation was a bust.

Bro: doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate

Sing-us-a-song: hear hear

An image appeared on the chat that Louis shared. It was the Ericson University newspaper. The front page held the story of Professor Weathers’ arrest.

We were right on the money

Knife2meetU: where would we meet?

OrangeuGlad: I can check with Lee and see if he’d let us have it here.

Clementine ran down the stairs, searching around for Lee. Her eyes soon found him on the couch.

“Hey Lee, can I have a few friends over on Halloween after trick or treating with AJ?”

“Sure, that’s fine with me. Will your boyfriend be coming?”

She couldn’t see his face, but she knew he had a teasing smile on it.

“Yes.”

“Alright then,”

Clementine took out her phone again, heading back up to her room.

OrangeuGlad: He says it’s fine but we have to do it at 8 Promised AJ that we would go trick or treating first

Aasim: Works for me.

Knife2meetU: same here

Prishafacie: For me as well.

Bro: 8 works

Sing-us-a song: well then all we need to do is figure out the movie and we need to get some snacks and candy

Bro: I can get the snacks and candy

Aasim: Get candy corn.

Knife2meetU: don’t

Aasim: I want it.

Bro: I can get some for you Aasim

Sing-us-a-song: Now onto movies

Bro: can we watch It’s the great pumpkin, Charlie Brown?

Aasim: Thanks I’m fine with that choice.

Knife2meetU: what about a horror movie?

Sing-us-a-song: i don’t know

Prishafacie: I’m down for a horror movie.

OrangeuGlad: just bring both and we can decide when we’re together.

Sing-us-a-song: sounds like a plan.

Bro: Ok send me some different snacks you guys want.

Brody looked down at the different answers her friends had sent. There sure was a lot of variety here. She pushed open the door to the convenience store, her attention still on her phone.

“Hey, Brody.” She looked up to see Mitch, a friendly smile on his face.

“Hey, Mitch,” A warm smile overtook her face as soon as she saw him.

“What are you getting today?”

“Just some snacks and candy for the Halloween party that my friends and I are having.”

Mitch nodded. “Sounds fun.”

“You got any plans for Halloween?” Brody asked from one of the aisles, grabbing snacks from different shelves.

“Just some trick or treating with my brother.” Mitch replied. Brody leaned out from the aisle to look at him.

“You have a brother?”

“Yeah, his name’s Willy. He’s twelve so all he wants to do for Halloween is go trick or treating and pig out on candy.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” Brody walked forward, her arms filled with different snacks and candies.

Mitch started to process the different items, stopping when he got to the candy corn.“You like candy corn?” His nose scrunched up with a mixture of disgust and confusion.

“Nope, can’t stand the stuff. But my friend likes it.” Brody responded, grabbing out her wallet to get ready to pay.

“Neither can I. It’s just so fucking nasty. It really is the ass of Halloween candy.”

Brody laughed at Mitch’s words, which caused a smile to form on his face. After a few more items the order was processed, and with a few bills exchanged Brody lifted up the bag of snacks. “Enjoy your Halloween.” Mitch called out to her.

“Thanks! You too.”

Brody looked down at the assortment of treats she had gotten, an excited smile appearing on her face. She couldn’t wait for Halloween.

----

Clementine shifted in her Halloween costume. She had promised to dress up with AJ which she was happy to do. It was just that the outfit was a bit itchy. She was going as Calypso Cauliflower to match her brother’s theme.

“Ta-da!” AJ jumped out of his bedroom, proudly displaying his outfit. He had decided to go as his favorite character of all time: Disco Broccoli. His eyes were covered with the signature purple sunglasses. His white disco outfit shone as a gold chain dangled on his neck. He really wanted to go all out this year so he had come up with the brilliant idea to dye his hair green. It was temporary dye, but there was still the chance that his hair would stay that color for a few days afterward. With the shape of his afro he really did look like Disco Broccoli.

“You look great, AJ!”

AJ struck a disco pose dramatically. “You ready?” he asked excitedly, swinging his candy container back and forth.

“I was born ready!” Clementine grabbed her brother’s hand and headed towards the door. She turned her head back around her shoulder. “We’re heading out!”

“Ok, have fun!” Lee’s voice rang out from his office.

With that the brother-sister team was off walking around their neighborhood. AJ’s eyes lit up every time they got to a new house.

“Come on, Clem!” He pulled on her arm, making his way towards the next door.

“Slow down, kiddo.” Clementine tried to keep up, smiling at the pure joy on her brother’s face. AJ reached forward, knocking on the door. He impatiently swayed back and forth as he waited for someone to answer the door. It only took a moment for a person to show up at the door.

“Well, hi there! What are you dressed up as?” a kind lady asked, reaching inside to grab the candy bowl she had prepared for the trick or treaters.

“I’m Disco Broccoli!” AJ declared proudly, displaying his best disco move. He quickly gestured over to Clementine. “Clem is Calypso Cauliflower.

“Silly me, I should’ve known,” the lady chuckled. “Take as much as you like.” She held out the candy bowl which AJ and Clementine took generous amounts from, thanking the lady before heading to the next house. After a couple more houses the duo realized that their time was up. Grabbing a hold of AJ’s hand, Clementine headed back to her house, excited for the Halloween party that was soon to come.

Luckily she had timed it out right and had left enough time for herself to change and make the living room look decent for her friends. Soon a knock on the door came.

“Coming!” Clementine shouted, running towards the front door and opening it.

Louis and Violet stood in the front of the group, the rest peeking out their heads from behind.

“We have arrived,” Louis exclaimed with his classic charming smile. “With us we carry the delicious treats for this spooky night!” The group slowly shuffled in. Clementine grabbed the bags from the group, making her way to get some bowls from the kitchen.

“Thanks, Brody.”

“No problem.” Brody made her way to the kitchen. “Do you need any help?”

“Yeah, actually. Can you help pop some popcorn? It should be up in the lower cabinet by the fridge.”

Brody nodded, quickly fulfilling her given task.

“So what movie are we watching?” Louis asked, sitting down on the couch.

“I brought Texas Chainsaw Massacre.” Violet replied, simply placing the DVD on the couch.

Louis looked warily at it. It was pretty clear horror wasn’t for him.

“My DVD is in my bag.” Brody called from the kitchen.

“We have time for both if you want?” Clementine offered to which the group agreed almost immediately.

“I think we should start with horror.” Violet added.

“Sounds good to me.” Prisha stood beside her.

“Okay, maybe it would be good to get it over with first.” Louis gave a sigh. He walked forward, grabbing the DVD and heading towards the TV. “Vi, help me set this up while Clem and Brody get the snacks ready.”

Violet followed her friend.

“I’m not sure I’ve properly introduced myself.” Aasim walked over to Prisha. “I’m Aasim,” He offered his hand which she accepted, giving it a firm shake.

“Prisha.”

“I saw on the intro channel that you’re a law major. That’s really interesting. What made you choose that career path?”

Prisha’s expression changed to an excited one as she answered his question.The two soon got wrapped up in their conversation, each of them interested in what the other had to say.

“Popcorn’s ready.” Brody placed two bowls in front of the group. Clementine was close behind, placing down the bowls of candy. A small bowl filled with candy corn was beside them.

“You got the movie set up?” Clementine asked as she watched her two friends work together.

“Yep, just about.” Louis replied, standing up and grabbing the remote control.

With a few clicks the movie began. Brody made her way over to one of the couches, joining Aasim who was already there with his candy corn. Clementine had settled down on the other couch which Louis soon joined, sitting beside her. Prisha sat on the other side of the couch while Violet sat next to her on the arm of the couch. The lights were off and the snacks were distributed. It only took a few moments to make it abundantly clear who enjoyed horror and who didn't. Brody tried to not get overwhelmed by the death scenes, averting her eyes when they happened. Aasim tried to help her by whispering different facts about the history behind the film which actually did help her calm down a bit.

On the other hand Violet seemed to enjoy the movie, tossing popcorn in her mouth casually when the massacre started. Prisha didn’t seem fazed by it either. Instead most of her focus seemed to be on Violet. Her hand slowly made its way over to Violet’s, brushing against it. Violet seemed shocked for a moment before accepting Prisha’s hand. She was glad that it was so dark in the room so the others couldn’t see the slight blush forming on her face.

Clementine also seemed to enjoy the film, but not because of the plot. Instead it was because of Louis. He really couldn’t handle horror so he ended up curling up in her arms. He would try to make some sort of funny commentary to cope with the scarier moments, giving quippy one-liners from the safety of Clementine’s arms. She felt his warmth against her. A warm fuzzy feeling enveloped her body as she looked down at her boyfriend. She didn’t mind this arrangement. In fact she hoped that the movie would somehow drag on so she could enjoy this moment.

Her eyes were suddenly drawn away from the screen however when she noticed Lee standing in the kitchen. He had a playful smile on his lips as he motioned towards Louis. Clementine’s arms were protectively around him as he continued to try and watch the movie. Lee raised a thumbs up to his daughter. Clementine felt her face grow hot while she tried to focus back on the film.

“That was awesome.” Violet commented, grabbing some more candy as the end credits rolled on the screen.

“Funny, you and I pronounce ‘terrifying’ differently.” Louis mumbled, freeing himself from Clementine’s arms to put in the second movie. Within a few minutes the title screen was on the TV.

Brody shifted on the couch, a child-like joy appearing in her eyes when the movie started. She must’ve seen this movie countless times with how frequently she said the lines word for word as the scenes happened. The group looked over at her with smiles on their faces, happy to see her having a good time. It wasn’t long before Brody’s line for line commentary stopped though, her shoulders slumping while her head fell back. The slow rising and falling of her chest indicated that she had fallen asleep. Aasim made sure not to move too much so he wouldn’t wake her up. After a while Lee made his way into the room.

“Hi there. I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Lee.”

The group looked over, quickly returning their introductions.

“It’s nice to meet some more of Clem’s friends. She always talks about you.”

Clementine awkwardly shifted from her spot in Louis’ arms.

“Look at you guys, six friends that make up three couples."

The mood instantly changed in the room. Louis and Clem looked at each other with awkward smiles on their faces. Meanwhile Prisha and Violet were both overwhelmed by Lee’s assumption, their faces both turned away to hide their blushes. Their hands were still intertwined. But the most shocking response was Aasim’s. He was in the middle of eating some candy corn when Lee suggested that he and Brody were a couple to which he inhaled the candy corn wrong, causing him to choke. Brody’s eyes fluttered open, widening when she saw her friend struggling to breathe. With a few strong whacks to the back Aasim coughed up the candy corn which went flying and landed by Lee’s feet.

“I’m sorry if I misspoke! Let me grab you some water.” Lee ran into the kitchen, pulling down one of the cups.

“That’s the price to pay for eating candy corn.” Louis shook his head in mock sadness.

Aasim glared over at him. “Don’t blame this on the candy corn.”

Lee soon returned and handed the glass of water to Aasim who accepted it gratefully. “Well, I better leave you kids to it.” Lee gave an apologetic smile before returning into his study.

The rest of the movie passed by in no time.

“I love that movie.” Brody stood up, stretching out her arms.

“It really is a classic.” Louis agreed.

The rest of the group slowly got up to their feet, each of them tired after the two movies but also sad that the party was over.

“Well, we should probably head out.” Louis took out his car keys. The four of them made their way to the front door.

“This was really fun,” Brody turned back to look at Clementine “I can’t wait for the next party.'

“I’m sure with our group it won’t be long until the next one.”

“Thanks for inviting me tonight.” Prisha looked up at the group. “It really means a lot."

The group all shared a warm smile.

“We really should go.” Aasim commented from the front door.

“Yeah, we have class tomorrow.” Brody added.

Violet let out a frustrated groan.

“Alright, alright.” Louis leaned forward, planting a gentle kiss on Clem’s cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” Clementine waved to her friends as they left, shutting the front door behind them. She walked up to her bedroom, falling backwards onto her bed. A huge grin overtook her face. To think that she would have this amazing of a group of friends, that she would have such a sweet boyfriend… she couldn’t believe it but she couldn’t be happier.

#twdg #twdg clementine #twdg louis #twdg prisha #twdg violet #twdg lee #twdg aj #twdg aasim #twdg mitch #twdg brody #twdg moody #twdg privet #clouis #twdg carlee #fluff #fanfic #I am thou thou art I au

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elyreywrites · 4 years ago

Text

do you know who you are?

a fic written for Pride Month 2020!! (yes, i know pride month is over, but i posted this on AO3 on June 30th so.) this is a projection fic. it’s not an exact projection of my experience, nor is it meant to be a generalized representation. this isn’t everyone’s experience.

warnings: slight mention of Jack and Janet Drake potentially being homophobic, and discussion of compulsory heterosexuality

thank you to my betas in the Capes & Coffee Discord - Bumpkin, ZulieTheProgrammer, and Oceans!!

title is from Moana’s “I am Moana”!

please REBLOG - DO NOT REPOST

AO3 Link

Teen 1,678 words Bart Allen & Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent slight one-sided Tim Drake/Jason Todd - as in, tiny-Tim has a crush on Robin-Jason

Summary:

He’s twelve and watching Robin fight. He’s seventeen and staring up at the ceiling. He’s nineteen and text-spamming his best friends.

Tim’s growing up and finding himself, and he would really appreciate if the Realizations didn’t happen when he’s trying to sleep. Kon and Bart would probably appreciate that as well.

- - - - -

It starts as he’s watching the second Robin knock out some muggers. It’s not the first time Tim has seen Jason’s Robin take down a group of criminals, but it’s the first time that he nearly gives himself away as he squeaks.

Jason’s so strong, and cool, and pretty, and – oh. Ah. Okay.

He calls it a night at that, bright red from the questions that are swimming around in his head. He spends most of the trip home lost in thought. When he’s sitting on his bed, one of his best pictures of Jason’s Robin sitting in front of him, he gives them a voice. Talking usually helps him get his thoughts in order. “Okay,” he whispers, “do I like boys?” He doesn’t dislike them – not at all. But does he like them? Maybe, but… how is he supposed to know? “Is that too big of a topic?” he wonders aloud to the picture. “Let’s start with this: Do I like Robin? Jason-Robin.”

That doesn’t turn his brain into a jumbled mess like the previous question did. Of course he likes Jason-Robin. He’s absolutely amazing, protecting people and checking on the working girls and kicking criminal ass! He’s only a couple years older than Tim is, but he does so much more! And he’s real in a way Dick isn’t.

Jason’s just a kid like Tim, though they have such different backgrounds. Dick was a trained acrobat, with skills Tim never really believed he could learn. Jason seemed closer. He was still more amazing than Tim could ever hope to be, but it wasn’t an entirely impossible stretch like it was with Dick.

“And he’s so passionate, especially when it’s a kid that’s in danger. And every time he smiles, it just makes me so happy that I kind of want to giggle and—” Tim stops babbling. He doesn’t need to anymore, after basically answering his own question. Yes, he does like Jason Todd, the current Robin. As in, he has a crush on him. Tim falls back on his bed to stare up at the ceiling.

“Well,” he says, “that explains the weird, squirmy feeling I get in my stomach every time I imagine talking to him.” That feeling is always accompanied by a fierce blush and Tim hiding his face for a good two minutes. He thinks he probably should have caught on sooner. Deciding that was enough Realizing Things for the night, Tim quickly locks the picture of Robin up with the rest and collapses on his bed to sleep.

The next day – a Saturday, which is Mrs. Mac’s day off – Tim hops on the computer and starts researching. He has a crush on one boy, but Tim still thinks girls can be cool. Batgirl is pretty awesome, after all! After a few hours and a lot of new information, he settles back on his bed again. He’s bisexual, and sexuality can apparently be really fluid. In all honesty, it didn’t take him hours to find the term, he just fell into a rabbit hole of researching sexual orientation and gender identities. Tim’s fairly secure in his gender, but he’s glad to have learned. It’s something to keep in mind about other people – to not assume anything based on appearances.

He’s bisexual, with a crush on a boy, and his parents will still expect him to only date girls. At least the boy was Robin and completely unattainable.

- - -

Years later, Tim is laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling once again. It’s a different bed by now, in his own apartment at seventeen. The thing is, he’s pretty sure he has no interest in romance. And now his brain was mixing everything up in a tangle of thoughts and feelings again.

“Holding hands is nice,” he admits. “I like cuddling. That was fine.” He hasn’t gone further than making out with anyone, so that’s about the limit of his physical experience. It’s the implication of emotions that makes him want to skitter away. Specifically, emotions of the romantic variety. Now Tim’s reassessing every romantic relationship he’s had, though he’s only ever dated women.

At the time, he had thought he was happy while in each relationship, but… it’s becoming much more likely that it’s because he was previously starved for affection. He suddenly got that affection while dating someone. That thought makes him want to hide from everyone he’s ever dated. Stephanie is the only one he really still has to see, and that has him burrowing under his blankets.

It sounds awful, honestly. Like he was using the relationship to get the affection he so desperately wanted. Logically, he might be overthinking this. He just wishes his dumb brain would tell that to his anxiety and the ingrained societal expectations. “I didn’t mean to,” he mumbled into the blankets.

Romance, dating, being happy in a relationship? He has no other experiences to reference! He didn’t know that something wasn’t right.

Hell, he’s only having this Realization because a woman was flirting with him at a gala and asked if he would like to get dinner together sometime. A romantic dinner date with a woman he wasn’t close to. The entire scenario would be romance with no physical affection, and that didn’t sound pleasant in the slightest. It did, however, make him realize that he might need to think things through again.

So, here he is. Thinking things through. No romance – if he’s remembering his research correctly, the term is ‘aromantic’, similar to ‘asexual’. Asexuality was something he’d heard more about over the years, but he rarely heard of aromanticism. It had just stuck out because while the terms were similar, their meanings were pretty different.

Now he’s glad it stuck in his mind. It gives him less reason to panic about being confused. So, he was bisexual and aromantic. That’s fine! He’s a vigilante, romantic relationships would be difficult anyway.

- - -

A year and a half later, Tim’s fingers fly across the screen of his phone, sending text after text without waiting for a response. Either his friends would wake up or they wouldn’t. Hopefully they would.

Tim: Oh my god. Guys, wake up, I’m an idiot. Bart, Kon, please. I’m so dumb. How the hell am I this oblivious? I’m not bi-aro at all. I’m just fucking gay. It’s 5 am and I can’t sleep, and I just want a boyfriend. I want to do couple things, like cuddle up while watching movies.

Clone Trooper: dude, it’s the middle of the night. why do you do this to us?

Tim feels no sympathy for his friends – he’s been running on less than six hours of sleep for years. Sometimes less than four hours. High school and vigilantism don’t mix well. Anyway, they can deal with waking up to deal with his Realization.

Sonic: bro we cuddle up when we watch movies are we not good enough for you anymore

Tim: Yeah, but that’s platonic, Bart. And yes, I’m aware of the time. I’d like to be asleep too, but I’m lonely and sad and having Realizations! Suffer with me.

Clone Trooper: … suffer how? are you expecting us to have an existential crisis too, or is this just suffering by being awake?

Tim: Being awake. It’s not an existential crisis, it’s just a Realization.

Sonic: its the middle of the night i think it can be deemed an existential crisis

Tim: But seriously, someone please tell me how I jumped passed the logical conclusion I should have come to of “I’m just not attracted to women” and directly to “I have no interest in romance at all”? How did that make sense to me?

Sonic: society conditioned u to like women

Tim blinks at his screen. Bart isn’t wrong, but Tim has absolutely no idea where he’s going with that. He already had the Realization about societal conditioning, thanks.

Tim: Okay? I’m aware, but I’m not sure how that translates to how I didn’t think of the logical conclusion.

Sonic: dude. for years it was a fact – since you were a kid u were so conditioned that u should like women it was just a fact

Clone Trooper: think of it like this, tim: as far as you knew, you liked women. later, you figured out you like guys, but you still think you like women too.

Tim: We’ve established, yeah.

Clone Trooper: so, suddenly something is weird. the only really new thing is that there is romance involved. so that’s clearly gotta be the issue.

Oh. He stares so long the screen goes dark. He drops his phone on the bed and stares up at the ceiling, turning that over in his head. So. He jumped to not wanting romance because it was so deeply ingrained that he was supposed to like women? His exhausted brain seems to accept this explanation enough to calm the edge of self-recriminations.

Tim: That. Makes sense, I guess. But still, it really seems like I should’ve realized a while ago. Also, I’m kind of surprised that you aren’t teasing me for being oblivious.

Sonic: oh thats coming but teasing is saved for when u arent having a crisis

Clone Trooper: later, we’ll absolutely laugh about that jump in logic. but right now it’s too early and you’re already having A Time.

He’s not sure if he has wonderful friends or terrible friends. Tim suspects that he’s still going to hear about this in a few years. It’s the kind of thing they won’t let die for a while.

Tim: Fair enough.

Clone Trooper: great, glad we got that cleared up! now tim...

Tim: What?

Clone Trooper: please. GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP.

Snickering, Tim plugs his phone in and smothers his face in the pillow. He’s still lonely and he still wants to analyze every missed evidence over the years, but he’s also exhausted. The chat with his friends did get his brain to shut up enough that he might actually be able to sleep. He can rethink his entire life again after he wakes up.

#fanfiction #elyrey writes things #tim drake #kon-el #conner kent #bart allen #friendship #lgbtq themes #lgbtq character #self-discovery #coming out #pride month 2020 #dcu

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saintheartwing · 4 years ago

Text

Undertales of Friendship: Derp-TEMMIE-Nation

Temmie was crying in the rainy streets of Ponyville. What had just happened was absolutely horrible. The laughter, the teasing, the harsh words, it was too much for one Temmie to bear. Worse, her super deluxe ultra rare super delicious Temmie Flakes were now mushy in the mud, the catlike monster crying and shivering.

"Hey... you okay?" A kind voice said behind her. Temmie turned, and saw a sight that made her go wide eyed with uber cute happiness. The grey pegasus before her was about average size, gently flapping her wings, with seven bubbles for her flank tatoo, as Temmie called it. But the cuteness came from those eyes, one looking up, the other down, making her look so huggabale combined with thta Frisky Fun smile.

She called it that because it reminded her of Uber cute and snuggly hoooooooooooooman Frisk, such a CUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUTE!

But, she remembered what happened, and sobbed again. "Tem.... sad, so 1 lik Teme, cuz Teme tak werd."

The pony sat beside Temmie, offering her an umbrella, making the Temmie blink happily. "I know what you mean. Ponies pick on me all the time because of my derpiness. They even call me Derpy. My full name is actually Dizty Do Derpy Hooves."

Temmie smiled widely from ear to ear. Literally. "Derp e? Such a cuuuuute nam! I'm Temmie!" Temmie hopped closer. "Derp not allergic to Tem, r u?"

Derpy smiled, hugging Temmie. "Nah, Just clumsy. Ask Twilight. I once dropped a piano on her." She tilted her head a bit. "Followed by a hay cart. Followed by an anvil."

Tem went wide eyed, anime style. "OWWWWWWOWOWOW! Dat mus hut!"

"It did. But she forgave me. And now I even can fly pretty good thanks to Rainbow Dash teaching me to adapt how I fly to my vision." She pointed a hoof at her crossed eyes. "For a long time ponies thought I was retarded.... but these were just messing up my vision, making me clumsy. Some ponies still tease me about it, and I am not as bright as many others...but..."

Before she said another word, a rather annoying, nasaly voice was heard. "Oh isn't THIS rich! Looks like the Temfem found a fweeeeend." The two groaned as they saw a monster shaped like a ufo, with two eyes on the sides, a big ugly nose, and a small, mocking smile under an M shaped mustache.

Jerry.

And with him were several of the local bullies, a group of ponies who basically caused trouble for everyone. During the date bidding not long ago, they made a point of making obscene cat calls to Rainbow Dash, and shortly after the monsters came they were some of the first to rail against Muffet, saying she wanted to turn everyone into flies with her evil pastries, and eat them.

Admittedly that was partially true, but she only did that to parasprites because they were both delicious and cuddly.

"Wow, retards really DO attract."

"Man, you see her eyes?"

"I bet she can't even see us!"

"And I heard yesterday she tried to deliver the princesses's mail to Big Macintosh!"

"Big Mac? I heard she almost started a war by delivering a sex note to Queen Chrysalis!"

Temmie growled, and with one paw that got VERY long, successfully slapping every last one of them, only too late realizing her mistake.

"OOOOOOOOOO... I've been temmied! Now I am gonna have... Hoives!"

Temmie began to sob, bolting. Derpy snorted and growled at the laughing bullies. "You all oughta be ashamed of yourselves!"

Jerry snickered. "You oughta be ashamed of those eyes! I mean, are you looking up or down? Oh wait, it's BOTH!"

Derpy gritted her teeth. With a mighty whinney, she charged Jerry, knocking him down. The two were brawling as Twilight and several guards, including Papyrus, broke it up.

The look on the faces of the guards meant there would be a lot of trouble.

***

"And after what Jerry said, I didn't know what else to do hon! WHat kind of monster is that monster? He is such a.....a....."

"Monster?" Doctor Whooves said, working on his steam powered inventions while he and Derpy talked. The two had married some time before, despite obvious differences (Or perhaps because of them). Now they lived in a quaint cottage in Ponyville, where Derpy spent a lot of time baking muffins to go with the money she maid as a professional mailmare, while the Doctor worked as both a medical practitioner and a fringe scientist.

"Yeah, monster." Derpy whimpered some. "I hate Jerry."

The Doctor peeked out from under his latest work, the Steamy Dreamy 3000, meant to use a gentle steaming mist to help ponies sleep when it is too cold. "Dear, that is still no reason for assult and battery. And Jerry wound up with those bits with you paying out the nose because he had his gang as witnesses. He played you like he tried to play Temmie."

"Ohmygosh! Temmie! I forgot all about her... poor thing, she is so cute and kiind, and those creeps had no right to-"

"Dear." The Doc came over to her and nuzzled. "Think about this logically. Temmie is a very unlogical creature. Now if I were her, where would be the last place I would wanna go after being insulted?"

Derpy pondered, thinking mostly of muffins. Sweet, delicious muffins, with fresh raisins in them, and that home grown oatmeal from Sweet Apple Acres...

"Ummm.... the bakery?"

The Doc hmmmed. "Unlikely.... out of the way....very unusual..... yes, I do believe you are right love!"

Derpy blushed. "Well... I'l be honest, I was kinda asking if we could go there, all this made me kinda hungry." She made a little shy blush, the Doctor chuckling.

"Why not. I need a break and you need a pick me up. Then we can figure out what to do about Temmie."

Derpy hmmmed. "Maybe she is like me? Maybe she just needs to find what she is good at. Something that is just her?"

The two nodded, waking out of the home, humming a gentle tune (Ironically to the music of Temmie Village)

What talent does a Temmie have? What skill, does a temmie show? What job, can a Temmie do? I admit, I really just don't know. Can they sing? Dance? Love? Romance? Run? Play? Sleep all day? Do they cook? Cuddle? Solve puzzles? Do they laugh? Sing? Do anything? Sew? Sell? Ask? Tell? Kiss? Hug? Comfort? Bug? I'll tell you... It's all of the above! What power, does a Tem possess? What things, does a Temmie need? What hope, does a Temmie have? What is, their eternal creed. Can they sing? Dance? Love? Romance? Run? Play? Sleep all day? Do they cook? Cuddle? Solve puzzles? Do they laugh? Sing? Do anything? Sew? Sell? Ask? Tell? Kiss? Hug? Comfort? Bug? I'll tell you... It's all of the above! That's what a temmie does! Just like me and you! That's who and what a temmie is! And I assure you, it is all true! Tem...Tem Tem... Tem Tem...Tem Tem... "TEM!"Derpy said in shock as she walked in. As she had guessed, unintentionally, there was Temmie, trying to hide in Muffet's Spider Batter, several spiders tryng not to laugh at the cuteness. Muffet herself had her four arms crossed.

"Look, I have no orders for a Temmie Cake...yet." Muffet added under her breath. "And I highly doubt the Cakes, speaking of which, will approve of you hiding in my cake batter."

"Tem not lik even az foob. Tem worth 0."

Derpy approached. "That's not true! You're just different is all, and different means you have different ways, like me."

Muffet nodded. "Derpy is right. You remember what I was like when I first came here, how I was ridiculed because I used spiders in my pastries?"

Nearby, a pair of changeling girls were being tickled inside and out by said spiders. "Yeah, then you found out what we think of them, you doll!" One said, the other smiling and nodding.

"Or Huey! The monster kid with no arms? No one is making fun of him now!"

At the school, Diamond Tiara smiled as the high jumping Huey retrieved her crown from a tree after a crow took it, earning a kiss from the formerly snotty pony and cheers from the other kids.

"Or TWILIGHT?!" Muffet pointed out.

Temmie blinked in surprise. "Huh?"

Derpy nodded. "Yeah, before she became a princess a lot of people made fun of her bookworm nature. But now? Now she is the princess!"

Tem huddle din the batter. "But.... tem knot lik dat...."

Muffet petted the battered Temie with sprinkles. "Yes you are. You're friendly and kind, and everyone who needs a hug can count on you for one. You're the best friend anyone could ask for, and you make everyone laugh!"

Derpy nodded.

Temmie smiled a little. "But.... wha bot Jerr?"

Muffet growled. "JERRY. Now he is someone who IS worthless. No wonder all the good monsters ditch him. He not only has no friends, he does his best to alienate them."

Derpy was confused somewhat. "But why?"

Muffet sighed. "Bullies are often self hating. But if you ask me, Jerry is a rare breed, deary. He bullies just because that is who he is. He hates friendship and hates others, he'd rather be alone yet loves to annoy others, it is like my spider doughnuts are to those changelings in his mind."

Derpy growled. "Man, even Discord has friends, how can Jerry go out of his way to ruin friendship and be happy about it?"

Muffet leaned close to the two. "Because he is... well... JERRY."

***

As the duo of Derpy and Temmie left the bakery, they saw Jerry waiting there, bulies beside him. He snickered some as he watched the two walk out.

"Well well, the cross eyed mule and the low eyed pike return! I wonder if they have any.... derptemmination?! *Snicker*

Ok, that's it. Buck this, I'm done.

"Huh?"

Everyone... let's ditch this guy. He is so annoying and wrong and even I as the writer am sick of him.

Temmie smiled. "Dat goooooo idee! Tem flakes any 1?"

Derpy smiled. "Maybe we can try some Temmie Flake muffins?"

Temmie was so excited she literrally lept 100 feet in the air with her paws still on the ground... and stayed at that height. "OOOOOO! Nomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnom! Lezzgo!" She said, wlaking with her new long l-

"HELLLLOOOOOOOO?! I wasn't done insulting them!"

*The entire story ditches Jerry. The world is better for it. After all, who likes a bully?*

...

...Back at Derpy's house, Derpy and Temmie worked on the TemMuffins, Temmie unintenionally believing that SHE was supposed to go in one and not the flakes, resulting in a couple dozen little fruity smelling Tem Muffins, and one giant one with Temmie in the middle, breathing out actual balls of happiness that smiled as they floated by.

"Tem lik muffen. Muffen so warm!"

Derpy smiled, playfully nomming a bite. "And tasty too!"

Everyone laughed, especialy Temmie, because she was with friends who loved her, and when you had that, then who cared what anyone else thought?"

"Cuz afta all.... Tem happy is best Tem!"

TEMMIEND!

...

...JERRY: Where did everyone go? Oh come on guys! Where is everyone! Hello? Hellllllllllllllooooooooooo? *Snort* Fine,. this story is dumb anyway*

Jerry walked away. Thank goodness.

Classic Jerry.

#Undertale #MLP #MLP:FiM #friendship is magic #My Little Pony #Crossovers #fanfic #fanfiction #crossover

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thelastarchangelaskblog · 5 years ago

Text

Rhodey & Zira (and Tony)

We have a ton of RPs in the Discord channel. I’m going to do my best in my copious amounts of free time to clean them up and drop them here since this campaign is turning out to be as much of a story as actual in-person gaming!

This one is an older RP that we did that I wasn’t yet able to clean up, but it’s here now.

Tony & Zira’s Chat

Tony & Rhodey’s Chat

Tony & Rhodey Compile a List

The Trouble with Two Tonys

(Read more.)

(There is a small, injured bird on the ground. It seems distressed, and its wing is bent strangely, and Zira is slowly creeping towards it)

(Tony has crept along behind Rhodey and is gesturing to him to just go ahead and that he will stay here and do something else that is not listening in)

(Rhodey was approaching Zira, but pauses uncertainly when he sees the bird she's going for)

(He rolls his eyes at Tony)

(Tony shrugs his shoulders and flaps at Rhodey to continue)

(Rhodey hesitantly starts forward, doing his best not to be quiet, but not startling either)

Rhodey: Hey, Zira, what you doing?

(Her head whips around and she relaxes slightly, realizing it’s just Rhodey)

Zira: I don’t know what to do!

(Tony settles against a tree and pulls out his bag of tools, pretending to do something with them.)

Rhodey: Is the bird hurt? Do you want to help it?

Zira: Yes! I know so little about birds though, and I don’t want to hurt it more.

Rhodey: Would you like help? I don't know much about birds, but I'm okay when it comes to patching injuries.

Zira: I’m certified in fixing people, not birds. I’m assuming we'd need to set the wing, and make sure this bird is somewhere safe and warm while it recovers, but I’m worried that that might scare it to death. I saw a bird die after someone picked I up. I don’t know what killed it, the fear or the fact that she snapped its neck. I don’t wanna be like her.

(Rhodey moves over to Zira and kneels next to her and the bird)

Rhodey: Whoa, easy, Zira, take a deep breath; it's alright. We can help it.

(Zira hunches over and shifts a bit away, but still near the bird)

Zira: We can?

Rhodey: Yeah, here: let me try something.

Zira: :o?

(Rhodey reaches out slowly to the distressed bird and, upon brushing its wing, uses Lay on Hands to heal it)

(The bird peeps in surprise as its wing pops back into shape. It lies there for a few moments, then shakes itself and flaps the wing to test it. It hops a few steps forward, then flies off)

Zira: :O!! You’re a healer!

Rhodey: I can do a little, yeah.

Zira: That’s amazing! What spell was that? Is there a specific source you draw your power from or is it innate? And you could assist me in caring for fake Tony! He’s a bird, too, and I would hate to hurt him.

(Tony is still messing around with his tools, listening in on the conversation while pretending not to. He smiles at hearing Zira call Bob "Fake Tony")

Rhodey: That was called Lay on Hands. I don't think it's a spell exactly-- It comes from being a paladin. I draw power from my goddess, the Lawbearer. And I'm always happy to help people. It's what I like best.

Zira: The lawbearer, that’s amazing. Is she like the archetypal lawful good enforcer of the pantheon? I’m guessing she’s probably one of the more major players. And I think I like helping, too. (she smiles kind of uncertainly)

Rhodey: Yeah, Erathis-- sorry, that's her name-- is about the good of civilization and community. She... well. (he rubs his neck nervously) She, and the friend who introduced me to her... they saved me.

Rhodey: And that's great, Zira, helping can be really rewarding.

Zira: They were right to save you. You seem to have a lot of useful skills. (she pauses, uncertain) ...But that’s not what... matters? Because people derive worth from...something I can’t seem to get a hold of.

Rhodey: (he smiles) Thank you, Zira, I like to think that I can be useful, but I get what you mean. People... Everyone has different things that they value.

Zira: And they deserve presents and kindness even if they aren’t useful or earned it (she pulls out a piece of chocolate and holds it out to Rhodey)

Rhodey: Yes, everyone is worth kindness. (He startles a bit, then smiles at her) Oh, uh, thank you, Zira. (He accepts it)

Zira: And, uh, I’m really glad you didn’t kill that bird. I, uh, I was very weak when Asher snapped the other one’s neck and displayed. Emotions. That simply hinder. Which I should not have done.

Rhodey: (blinks at her, looking up from the present) Oh, that's... I'm sorry Zira, that can't have been pleasant to watch

Rhodey: What? Emotion... Zira… Emotions are beautiful. They can hurt so much, but they're beautiful too

Zira: They don’t seem like it. Theyre weak points and they hurt so much. Even if you feel good for a little while it never lasts. It never lasts.

Rhodey: I know, they can. And it can definitely seem like that... Uh. Would you be willing to sit down with me for a bit?

Zira: I... Sure

(Rhodey leads them over to a log a little ways away)

(Zira follows, a bit wary)

(Once they sit down) Rhodey (slightly nervous): Would it be right to say that you've lost someone you care about?

Zira: I did not lose them. I left them. The fault was entirely mine

Rhodey: (gives her a considering look) Were you in danger?

Zira: Danger is a constant. And at the moment, I should have been fine. There was no great fight or threats at that moment. I just. Couldn't...stay there.

Rhodey: I'm not gonna pry, but It sounds like it wasn't a happy place, and that leaving made you safer, right? At least, you're safer now?

Zira: I don’t know. If my betrayal is discovered, which it doubtlessly has been, I will be hunted and brought in, dead or alive.

Rhodey: (looks very concerned and hiding anger at these unknown people) Well, I can say with great certainty that these people you've found now? Me, Tony, the others? We're gonna help you.

Zira: I’m not sure if you can, but it’s very kind of you to offer, and I apologize for dragging you into this.

Rhodey: (sighs, and runs a hand over his hair) I'm bad at this. Look, I'm just going to share something, if that's all right.

Zira: They won’t hurt you if you don’t interfere. What is it?

Rhodey: Ok. So, DJ and Tony know this bit. I used to be a soldier. And, well, it wasn't the most pleasant, but we managed to help people and I liked that bit of the job

Zira: I could have been considered a soldier as well. But we never helped people.

Rhodey: Well, we certainly did some things I hated and I never want to do again, but we were mostly...seeking out people who hurt others.But, anyway, I had a friend. He, well, he was the one who introduced me to Erathis. A few years before my contract with the army was up, we got in over our heads. I had to duck out with a few others to get reinforcements, and by the time we got back... Well.

Rhodey: What I'm trying to say...is I understand what it's like to lose someone? No. No.. Still not good at this.

Zira: But you came back. You are not a traitor, you are not weak.

Rhodey: Once I was strong enough. I didn't come back right away--- I got help

Zira: I am going to say something very bad. I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to help them. Meri is the only one there with a chance of being good and they broke her. I’m sorry.

Rhodey: Well, to be frank here, I volunteered to be a soldier, to put my life on the line. I get the feeling fighting is the last thing you want to do-- you like helping people, right? Maybe, like with that bird, healing?

Zira: I want to help. I want to help more than anything.

Rhodey: There are so many ways you can help people. So many ways. And every single one is valid. I hope to learn a more powerful healing spell soon. Maybe... we could learn it together?

Zira: I don’t know how I can help anyone like this. I ran and I’m still running. I stitched Meri back together but I couldn’t fix her. I can only provide a hollow imitation of what is meant to be. I feel you would be a great healer. You have been brave, and good.

Rhodey: I think a lot of us in this group are running. That...doesn't make it bad. You can see a lot of interesting things while you're running. And I think you would be a great healer too. Zira, you are very kind. You may not know everything about the way the world works, but you want to help. You wanted to help that bird. That... that kindness is the most important thing for a healer.

Zira: I...guess. They always called it weakness.

Rhodey: Have you found them to be wrong about other things?

Zira: I received a...sign, that many of the things they did were bad, and wrong, but I’m still untangling the depths to which that reaches.

Rhodey: That's fair. Can you believe me if I say kindness is a strength? It takes strength to maintain it despite the world, and it takes strength to give it despite your fears.

Zira: I want to. That seems better than anything I've learned. Except for maybe presents and candy. Those are pretty great

Rhodey: Chocolate is awesome, isn't it?

Zira: It IS! Tony gave me SO MUCH and I LOVE IT!

Rhodey: (smiles, glances back at Tony) Yeah?

(Tony is deliberately not looking at them, but he's listening.)

Rhodey: That's really great.

Zira: It really is.

Rhodey: (holds up piece Zira gave him) Thanks for this, by the way.

Zira: People get presents for being people, not for doing anything, which is kinda weird. Lots of things are weird.

Rhodey: A lot of the best things are weird, just like people.

Zira: Like most bugs. And candy. And the idea the kindness is strength.

Rhodey: I'm not fond of bugs, but I can get behind those other ones.

Zira: But I think I like weird things. They seem a lot nicer than what i learned. Like you! Creda was training to be a paladin, but she wasn’t very nice.

Rhodey: If you ever want to talk about weird stuff, I'd love to listen. I'm not great with the talking but I love listening. I'm glad you like me; I like you, Zira

Zira: :D Everyone is so nice here.

Rhodey: We do our best, I think.

Zira: Creda hated listening so it’s weird that you like it but it makes sense because there is always variety within a group but it’s still new and I think I like you, too. And you’re friends with Tony and he doesn’t seem like he’d be friends with someone bad.

Rhodey: Tony does have pretty good taste.

Zira: Especially in candy :D

Rhodey: Even if the people he likes occasionally blow stuff up on accident or stick their feet in their mouths.

Zira: Oh my gosh.

Rhodey: Yeah-- definitely in candy.

Zira: Guess what he told me??

Rhodey: What?

Zira: DJ’S NAME STANDS FOR DUMMY JR

Rhodey: (chokes on his own breath, and holds in a chuckle) Did he, now? I don't think I knew that.

Zira: He DID and said that dj would deny it but I really want to think it’s true because that is hilarious.

Rhodey: Honestly, anything could be true with those two, and at this point I've given up trying to figure out what's what.

Zira: There are so many secrets waiting to be found out here. That is very exciting.

Rhodey: Do you like puzzles and mysteries?

Zira: Like I know that you’re avoiding talking at length about what you did as a soldier because you’re ashamed and Tony is running from something just like me, and Bob definitely has a reason for the name changes that goes beyond any sort of physical damage. And luna is hiding something but I can’t figure out what. But I will. Thats what I’m good at.

Rhodey: You're pretty astute when it comes to reading people, aren't you?

Zira: I’ve always been good at information gathering. And people are the greatest mystery of them all. So I have to collect a lot of data to crack the secret.

Rhodey: Oh, boy, aren't they. People are messy and complicated

Zira: Yeah. I’m working on it, though. But we should probably go divvy up shifts for tonight.

Rhodey: Good idea. Thank you for talking with me, Zira, and let me know if you decide you want to learn some healing with me. It'd be nice to have a healing buddy

Zira: Healing buddies!

Rhodey: Yeah. (He smiles) Healing buddies

(Zira beams at Rhodey, gets up, and almost skips away)

(And as she passes Tony)

Zira: Hi, Tony!

(Tony drops tools)

Tony: Ah-

Zira: You should work on your subtlety a little more perhaps! It was very easy to tell you were there.

(Rhodey cackles to himself on the log)

Tony: ...ha? Sure.

Zira: It’s okay, though! We all start somewhere!

Zira: :D

Tony: ...That we do. I'm gonna...go over there. (gestures to Rhodey)

(Rhodey is still laughing his ass off)

Tony: You have a good time, though?

Zira: Of course! You, too!

(Tony waves to Zira, picks up his tools, and then goes to Rhodey.)

Tony: Shut up

Rhodey: Never (through laughter) that was great.

Tony: Ha ha, laugh it up.

Rhodey: Oh, I will (eventually settles himself) I will.

(Tony shoves at Rhodey, sits down on log)

Tony: So.

Rhodey: So.

Tony: That happened. You did good.

Rhodey: Ha, I don't know about that. I really put my foot in it a few times.

Tony: I probably did, too. It's not easy.

Rhodey: We haven't known her long, but it still really hurts to see her in pain-- emotional pain in this case, I guess. I wish I could help more.

Tony: Sometimes...waiting's all you can do. Waiting and pointing out the small things. She has to take those steps herself. We can just give her a small map

Rhodey: Yeah. And at least I can listen. I'm quite good at that.

Tony: That you are, that you are, buddy. You are very good at the strong and silent type.

Rhodey: Uh, thanks, Tony.

Tony: :3

Rhodey: Alright, enough of all that. We should go be useful with camp.

Tony: We should. And, uh...any ideas on last names? Or should we just sneak in a list into her pack.

Rhodey: Shoot. I forgot about that. A list might be a good idea.

Tony: Let's both come up with something.

Rhodey: Pool our resources.

Tony: Should we sign it? Because if she just finds a weird list of names in her bag...

Rhodey: I mean, that's a good point, but maybe she'll like the mystery of figuring out who gave her it?

Tony: ...point. Let's just make it super obvious it's from friends

Rhodey: Good plan

Tony: I'll write it down; you give me a list of names. I'll copy someone's handwriting...

Rhodey: (smiles and shakes his head) All right. I'll get to thinking and let you know when I have something.

Tony: You do that.

(Tony stares into forest)

Tony: ...I can't believe how messed up some people are.

(Rhodey claps Tony on the back)

Rhodey: Well, i don't know. Maybe that's just the way of the world. Maybe everyone's messed up and we just can't see it

Tony: ...It shouldn't be.

Rhodey: Yeah. We can all do our best to make it a better place.

Tony: (turns to Rhodey, grinning brightly) Exactly. All we can do. And maybe one day it'll get better.

Rhodey: Yes, exactly. (stands up and brushes clothes off) Alright now, we really need to go help everyone else.

Tony: Yeah, yeah. Let's go do it, bird whisperer.

(Rhodey punches his shoulder)

Rhodey: Well, I certainly didn't quibble half of last night with our resident bird.

Tony: Quibble? Quibble? There was no quibbling involved! It was a very serious discussion on names!

Rhodey: (starts walking off and calls over his shoulder) Definitely a quibble!

Tony: Not a quibble!

(Rhodey's totally doing this just to rub Tony wrong)

(Tony knows Rhodey is riling him up.)

(Tony continues muttering under his breath, gathering up his tools.)

Tony: Tony, Tony, Tony. It was my name first. And I should definitely get better at stealth...

(Rhodey laughs to self and goes to help with the fire and food or whatever.

(Tony goes off with a sheet of paper and his tools.)

#d&d campaign #rebaobsessions #heliocentricgeometric

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universal-kitty · 5 years ago

Text

.: Drama Involving AJ :.

Stylized ‘til I die, I guess. Anyways.

This is talking about phasefuck/huckerbee/teafrogs/whatever their URL is this week. AJ/Lee. The compilation of what’s happened involving them.

So... Starting at the beginning.

D was the reason I got into Borderlands. I watched her play TFTBL and gush about Rhys and get more involved and understand the ship she had! Also got my first crush on Zer0, but... Y’know.

So I did some art, started plotting ideas for who’d eventually be Gremlin- aka Rena Marlow, my SI for BLands- and that led...to us meeting AJ. They wanted me or D to join their server. D preferred because of her self-ship with Rhys, but I could join, too. D was nervous about new, strange people and I wanted to learn more about Borderlands and try new things, so... I hopped in, D stayed behind.

The time with them was pretty fun! Ended up making some friends, plotted fun ideas for AJ’s idea of the time, Borderlands Infinite. A continuation of Tales as AJ saw it. The server was made PRIMARILY for this endeavor and everyone in it was allowed an OC or self-insert to be paired with whoever they wanted to be with....long as they were open, that is. AJ had HJack, and everyone else... Well, most of the spares had been paired off by the time I joined.

Rhys was potentially still open, cause someone AJ had previously been talking with...either wasn’t responding, or had dropped out entirely. I forget by this point. Zer0 wasn’t an option and I didn’t know much of the others, so.... I accepted Gremlin to be paired with Rhys.

Thus the origins of my verse with Rhys. (As well as the OT3 with him and Vaughn... They started here.)

Tension was pretty high in the group and- though I didn’t acknowledge it at the time- it was primarily from AJ. Nobody else could like Handsome Jack “too much”... You could be playful about him, a little joke-flirty...but if you were suspected to like HJack, then you were “stealing” him from them. Because of this- while the group was friendly enough- it was hard to get into the “share faves” vibe that a lot of us seemed to have; gushing about a character that wasn’t your own just......felt weird.

Not sure if anyone else noticed, but that was my experience.

Anyways, I helped AJ with their story a lot due to being online a ton, with no work to do. We talked on the daily about what Rena could do, what Helios was like, how the story would go... The long-term slowburn we were putting Rena and Rhys through. I praised their art and ideas, they cheered for Rena/Rhys. It was pretty mutually supportive....

...Until AJ kicked fits. I was always online, so what about everyone else?? When I wasn’t online- sometimes if I was- I’d get put on a pedestal for helping out while others said nothing. (Essentially saying something like “Aki helps out all the time, but nobody else does” or, the popular one, “maybe I should just delete this since nobody cares.” I don’t have screenshots of this for reasons that’ll be explained in a moment.)

We typically talked them out of these, but eventually... It did happen. AJ messaged me that the old group had been deleted and there was now a new group of only the ACTIVE people. This left me and a few others, thought some other people would eventually cycle in. (One of which still being someone I look up to even today!! Even if we don’t talk much, lol.)

I got more creative freedom during this time, since other people “lost out” in their spots and... Somehow, this led to me taking on Nisha, too. I paired her with my OCs, Pyrotech and Meowzer. (Ex-Creepypasta OCs revamped for BLands. Is this my origins for my Nisha ship? Kinda!!!)

But by this point... I had grown to *really* like HJack. I’d made a slip before (more on that later), but learned his character very well and even played him for roleplays AJ and I were doing. AJ played themself and Rhys; I controlled Jack and Rena. All that research led to feelings....and ones I knew AJ wouldn’t approve of. So I did two things, right off the bat: kept my head down and immediately worked on justifying why I liked him. See, it’s because...it’s not the “canon” Handsome Jack!! The one I ship with has golden clasps! So they’re not the same!! And uhhhh....more bad things happened to him? He dresses more lavishly...?

I kept trying to come up with ways AJ might approve of my AU Jack without invoking their wrath. Not that...it would end up doing much, in the long run.

I invited one of my friends to join during this. One who also liked HJack...and proved my worries right. (Checked my Discord; I still have some of the messages!!! Whoop, here we go...)

Don’t have screencaps of the drama that proceeded to unfold- especially due to AJ blocking me on Discord and so losing all of our conversation- but.... That’s just how THAT is, I guess.

They did get super cold after and I had to explain things to my friend, while also assuring AJ that I would handle things and it’d be alright. It was an uncomfortable hiccup, but one that went by easily enough...

Though as I said, it was a significant event to show me how careful I needed to be when it came to HJack and AJ.

Also during this time... Another friend I’ll just refer to as P. We’d also been roleplaying in this time and having a blast. Absolute joy and- we don’t talk much anymore- but I do still consider them a dear friend. I played as CEO Rhys for them and they were Handsome Jack for me; we played our characters (my SI, their OC) and just... Had so much fun with it all.

So then... Amidst all the fun, it eventually happened.

What I described in this callout post.

AJ and I...we ended up dating at some point. I thought they were cool, we got along well, talked a LOT and all this... So I didn’t see a problem with it. Why not? I’ll get to have an awesome artist S/O with their cool ship and all their ideas... We’re gonna be unstoppable!

...But I also had abandonment issues. Too many times did I pour my all into someone, only to be left empty. I’ve always been the most supportive person in a room, trying to uplift EVERYONE to feel good! Cause yeah, everyone deserves that! AJ knew this. We’d talked about our issues and vented.....

And they still did that. They left my server as I slept. Blocked me on Discord, though I didn’t notice it at first.

...It was the one day I checked Tumblr first. They left their blog for a new one. Okay!! I’ll follow them on there, then! I did, and checked Discord. That was in the vent channel, and this was sent to me by a mutual friend.

So that’s how I woke up that day. Suddenly alone and single. And very, very depressed. I would end up posting these as my friends had to help me down:

“ ……now I wish I would’ve gotten lost after all or kept sleeping ….nothing is work being awake right now”

“ I just don’t want to exist I hate myself all over again I can’t get past that”

“ AJ just…..dropped me. Just like that. I didn’t know and tried to follow her new blog….. Either they just soft-blocked me or outright blocked me

“I feel so fuckin’ horrible”

At the time, I was horribly depressed due to outside causes. I was suicidal at the time and getting into some light, risky behavior in hopes it could be a factor in the end of my life. (I would walk around at night, hoping that the growing heat would either cause heat exhaustion or someone would attack me. Abduct me. Whatever meant that I would be gone and in pain.)

I later learned that this is actually learned behavior; my dad would react in extremist ways to things (something broke? “I want to kill myself.”) and so I probably learned it from him. This has actually made managing my suicidal thoughts easier, but at the time, I did not know this and put me more at risk.

Though this then kept continuing.... Because of course these things do.

It starts all over with me trying to move on. Someone was advertising their self-ship server, I wanted to try again and make friends... So I gave it a shot and joined!

....AJ was in there.

I quickly left as soon as I had entered, telling the owner I couldn’t stay due to troubles with someone else in there. They were understanding and, thankfully, that was that.

...But it STILL wasn’t. These are older messages, so I can’t get them together as much as I’d like to (in one screenshot, is what I’m saying) so I’ll also quote these, but if anyone needs screenshot proof, I can get that on request.

Anyways, our mutual friend (I’ll nickname her MF for “mutual friend” lol) later piped up with this:

05/19/2018 “So, aj invited me to a group chat and I'm a pushover who hasn't been able to cut them off yet so I said yes and boi I'm big uncomfortable now Like I thought I could maybe juggle being friends with both aj and Rachel even after what aj did but I was wrong.

“But idk what do now. I don't know what to say to them because I don't want to just drop them without saying anything. No doubt that'll get them talking about me behind my back”

.:.

“I might try that. I might mute the server so that I don't have to deal with that because i can't stay in it but I don't want to start shit by leaving I mean they are acting like Rachel is in the wrong”

.:.

“That they "stole their f/o" and that they are going to take the dragon idea that Rachel had for blands and "make it better" out of spite And I'm not happy”

.:.

“Well I just typed up a long message and while I'm glad I'll finally cut out a toxic person I'm also super nervous

“I sent it and left the server

“Wow okay all I got was a "Bye then" I sent a long ass message. Explaining my side and why. Hoping they'd understand and they just said bye then??????”

As you can see.... Everyone who’d been in that server (me, P, and MF) were on-edge about the “talking behind our back” issue that MF confirmed above. I figured it would happen, but it did...and that was a league all it’s own. (Especially when the callout post went around, and it got confirmed AGAIN that slander in my name was still going around.)

But one more thing happened that triggered this onslaught... Remember my RP w/ P? Well, this happened.... [TW for daddy kink mention? Calling themself Daddy?? That thing.]

Link to Ask.

Was never reblogged. Sent to me by a friend. To my knowledge, nobody spread this around AT ALL. But this was brought up in the same vent/time period as the above conversation.....

MF: Aj said that Rachel stole hj from them.

Me: Me, apparently. It's somewhere between that post and the ask (I think?) P sent me..... Which I loved and was hella surprised over, but. Oh boy.

Fren (aka owner of Karma): My god wtf can she like calm tf down

MF: They actually were mad that people were reblogging a post of yours, probably the kitten thing, that was about hj because it's "gross"

Fren: geeze Aj grow up

Me: ??????? Nobody reblogged it, tho

MF: Hmmmmm they vagued about someone shipping with him, someone they had blocked, that liked the daddy kink and stuff

I mean. I get it’s a gross thing for people, but.... HJack has also called himself “daddy/papa” on more than one occasion. It’s up for debate if he does it because he is Literal Dad or because he’s that nasty, but... Considering everything else he does, the latter seems the most obvious. That’s just how he is.

Anyways. The point being that we had each other mutually blocked by this point. I had people either block me, soft-block me, OR just outright unfollow + soft-block me because they were more trusting of AJ than of me. So to hear that they somehow knew P was sending me that ask...... Either someone TOLD them or they were stalking my blog to see what I was doing while they were gone.

Either way, not great. (What was pretty funny is I later made a joke about “stealing the rights to Handsome Jack from 2k so nobody else can do anything with him” and that “I’m a wanted man”... That’s nice.)

And so... We get to more recently.

Last I personally heard, I had to do some personal checking that led up to this... Saw leeships in self insert tag. New self-ship blog, so I blocked, as well as checking their blocked main to make sure everything lined up....and was greeted with this.

They’ve since changed their URL- again- but the fact they’re STILL being petty towards D is just....something else.

Speaking of, I’m not actually...sure where that started. There was a whole conversation we had over how AJ treated D out of sight of others (they talked over IMs, I guess because we were budding friends at the time, and what else do I do but hype up all my friends?) There was a lot of attention-seeking behavior from AJ (showing their art and then getting mad when D or Fren tried to compliment them for “lying” about the compliment...?), but far as I knew/remember, there wasn’t any bigger issue.

...After we broke up, however, an issue began as D and I became better friends. Friends stick with friends, D knew AJ, so when the blocking-bug was going around, D blocked them, too.

Which eventually snowballed into the bullshit you can still see today. With AJ trying to claim that D is the one dealing out harassment when- at worst- maybe D did talk too much and AJ didn’t deal with it in a healthy way. (Because that is an issue I’ve heard of; except AJ freaked out over it, instead of talking it out like a healthy adult and figuring out how they could balance out the conversation. Seriously. I’ve had this talk with D. We don’t dominate our conversations at all; nobody over the other. If there ever was a problem, then literally just saying “Hey, I don’t feel heard/listened to when I talk about my ship” was all AJ ever needed to say, but....... Y’KNOW.)

I’m not D, so I can’t say the full scenario of that, but this is the best way I can show there was a middle ground AJ could’ve used to work things out, but they didn’t.

Oh, and just so I’m not saying things if you haven’t already seen this... Here’s a screenshot someone (for privacy’s sake) got of AJ trying to pin the blame on D for being the “real harasser” in their BYF:

We all just wanted to get over this. However, D and I especially don’t want to get involved with or be AROUND AJ/Lee in any way. So we keep an eye on what they do so we can feel safe. We DON’T want to forgive AJ/Lee (for obvious reasons), so we keep blocking their accounts and/or make sure they’re still on our blocklist.

I know I’ve resorted to putting their URLs on BLACKLIST to make sure I don’t see them at ALL because of how much stress they put me under just seeing them around.

What the hell do THEY have to be stressed about? Dealing with people they hurt for BEING hurt and not wanting them around us anymore?? Fuck....

.:.

Anyways. I guess that about concludes all I wanted to write about. Friendly reminder that their old callout post is here and while I doubt a new one will crop up any time soon (as I sure don’t want to write one that’ll get around, after the last time I had a friend try to help me do a callout post on someone like this), you can at least look up that one more time after reading this.

So...... That’s the end. Thanks for reading this and I’m sorry if anything was upsetting.

...If you want, you can come to the ask box and ask for a gif of your F/O? Or a cute puppy or kitten? Maybe I can find some nice fanart for you as comfort...? IDK, options.

#Aki speaks #It's the Discourse

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diveronarpg · 5 years ago

Photo

Congratulations, VICTORIA! You’ve been accepted for the role of KATHERINE with an FC change to Magdalena Frackowiak. Admin Minnie: We've been waiting a long time for someone to turn Verona's best shot into a living, breathing being on our dash. Our Katarina is a force to be reckoned with, and not to be underestimated. It would be easy to capture her as a femme fatale, but you captured her layered depths, her spirit and her ferocity. Reading your application was like a breath of fresh air for all that Katarina could be and, with you in our ranks again, undoubtedly will be. We're excited to have you back with us again, and so excited to see Katarina take shape in your hands! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Victoria

Age | 23

Preferred Pronouns | she/her

Activity Level | On a scale of one to ten, maybe six? Higher on the weekends, but I work until six Monday through Friday and after that, I’ll be able to get a few replies done per day. I’m always around on Discord for plotting, though.

Timezone | EST

How did you find the rp? | I was friends with Rosey during DV’s first introduction in the rpc, didn’t get to apply, and kind of fell off from Tumblr for a LONG while before going back and forth between town rps and indie. Once I circled back around and found DV again, I’d applied for Santino Gallo with the fc change of Stephen James. However, I stepped away when I realised I wasn’t in the right headspace to invest so much time into a place like DiVerona, and now I’m back feeling a lot better and more confident about my writing.

Current/Past RP Accounts | here, here, and here

IN CHARACTER

Character | Katherine, Katarina Du Pont with a faceclaim change to Magdalena Frackowiak

What drew you to this character? | Admittedly, the process of how I chose Katherine was very much like playing a game of roulette. After making sure the cast list was filtered to all open roles, I blindly scrolled and clicked, ready to read whatever biography I clicked on. That was Caesar’s. And, though I did immediately feel for the man that had created and lost an empire, I had to read at least one more biography to be sure of my decision to pick one. The next time, it was Katherine. Katherine woke me up. Katarina Du Pont reminds me so much of what could be the hellspawn of two of my own original characters that I immediately knew yes– I could write her. I could get into her head, learn her, feel her so I could write her. Katherine feels real to me. She’s alive when I think of her, when I write about her. And that’s what led me here, to send in an application to write her.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

FOOL ME ONCE, FOOL ME TWICE, AND THEN A THIRD – A RECAP

They jeered at her. Back at the police station, from behind closed doors, with their backs turned and some had the gall to do speak ill to her face. Thrice now, she had been caught off guard and bested.

There was nothing fair in a war, after all, and just the same, Marcello’s fist had come flying out of nowhere the night that Cosimo had been shot. As luck would have it, it was but a third blow that had struck her to the ground. In retrospect, it was sheer and utter irony. Katarina was a detective with the police force and yet she had been caught off guard, flaw in her so-called constant vigilance found imperfect. Three punches, three blows and two had been to her head then she had fallen to the ground. She’d hardly put up a fight. It was a blow to her ego as much it had injured her physically– but she promised herself that she would get back at the bastard.

Next, it was the night at the Teatro Nuovo that Katarina found herself bested twice more. The witches had been hanged and Lillian’s assistant had immediately moved to help, but trying to preserve the crime scene as a cop, and protect the woman with the knowledge that Paola was dear and important to her best friend while chaos erupted in the theatre had her too spread out, focusing on three things at once.

Threes. Why would everything continue to occur in threes?

That she had been decked hard enough by Paola that the woman had slipped past her had been insult enough to her pride. Of course, it was forgivable in an instant, but that it would soon be twice in one night that Katarina could not forgive. A shake of her head and moment to catch her breath amidst the commotion was what she deemed more than enough.

But the night was not over yet, and while she sought her comrades, dodged and pushed against foe, a gunshot rang out over the din of the fray– and Katarina found herself face to face with Odessa Vernon. Once upon a time, she had been friends with her brother. Years and years ago, Lawrence might have been won to righteousness. But that was the past. And at present, Katarina had thought she would be a foe to fight past quickly enough to make sure those that were hers were safe. Yet, it was but another miscalculation on her part, having not expected the girl’s desperation to get past her. Stumbling to catch her breath and wipe at her bloody lip, she saw that it was her own sister that had succeeded– and that blow was worse than the injuries she had sustained, and Odessa had fled with.

JUSTICE SERVED - Three times she was bested in a fight. What good of a cop was she if she did not manage her duty? The virtuousness of her words, and righteousness of her gun beside her badge meant nothing if she could not survive the fight. Revenge was a fickle thing in her mind– but was it revenge, she pondered, or was it justice? She would bring justice to the man who had assaulted her in the alley as the Castelvecchio Bridge broke. Katarina would forgive as what was right when someone who was innocent and neutral only wished to do right. Yet, for the last transgression, the one who stuck out in her mind the most, Katarina wants justice in the form of a rematch. Another opportunity at Odessa. And, while her sister isn’t apparently entirely useless in a fight, the elder sister would prove once and for all somehow in some way that she was of the most value. With the task to protect Cosimo’s princessa, she knew there was no room for error. The princessa was doing good for others, and that goodness would not be ruined by the like of the Montagues.

A TRIFECTA - Three was a mystical, lucky number. A group of three made for the strongest formation, made for a strong formation for a building, and it would take three notable mistakes for Katarina to learn that her tongue and gun were nothing without a third skill in the trifecta. A triple threat was what they called it, and it was what she would be in this war. Her looks were hardly a weapon after all, and they especially were not one that she could count on. So, she would train. Katarina would learn better how to fight, would train to find that balance in warfare and learn to use it to her best advantage. The Du Pont girl was the best goddamn shot in Verona, with a tongue tempered to destroy at an even more devastating level. She would do best to complete the trio by honing her skill in hand to hand combat by training at Measure by Measure. Three skills like these put together would be perfect, and with that in mind she has pushed harder and more viciously than before to be as indomitable as she believed herself to be.

WHAT COULD BE BETTER? - But, what if she couldn’t? The seed of doubt had begun to fester as unwillingly as an ant an unwilling victim to a shoe, or child with a magnifying glass. And, oh, it burned in her mind. Try as Katarina might to quell her unbidden fear and dismiss it, the thought had come to mind and there it would stay, unforgotten and at the forefront of her thoughts when she lay sleepless in her bed. What, then? What else was there for her? What else could the woman with a bladed tongue do? The answer was clear before her one late night, and immediately she found herself leaping from her bed. Katarina was justice, righteousness rolled into a body that fought and felt viscerally to do all she believed needed to be done. Becoming a cop was no mistake, but perhaps just a moment on her path. It has been a month since she had begun to look more into the possibility, and the blonde has yet to confess to anyone that her current vocation might not be the best to suit her. Her pride in serving justice needed to advance somehow, and this just might be the way to do it.

SISTER DEAREST - An injured bunny might be able to hop to safety. But it should take care to not be caught, especially by a Kat. Increasingly and ever more still, the love for one’s kin has begun to truly leave her. Romulus and Remus. Cain and Abel. It has become unavoidable, the truth that neither could truly live their life in Verona to the fullest while the other remained. Brigette seemed more useless now to the Capulet cause now more than ever, and if given the order to extinguish a liability to Cosimo and his successor… Would she be able to carry out her duty? Justice would always be due when there were those who betrayed their loyalties, and righteousness would always win. Katarina herself did not cut corners, did not excuse herself above reproach. So, why should her simpering little sister be treated any better? For as long as she could remember, the younger Du Pont had been a thorn in her side, an unwanted connection and reminder that she would never be who her family wanted. But, that was the point of it all, Katerina would tell herself. The Du Ponts did not want a wolf. But, she was who they needed. Not a bleating sheep.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | No one likes a dirty cop, and they seldom survive when it comes to war, run aground by responsibilities to the Capulets and the badge and inevitably caught in the crosshairs. If the opportunity arises where it makes no sense for Katherine to survive– kill her.

IN DEPTH

Please choose between the interview or the para sample (or both, if you like!)

In-Character Interview: The following questions must be answered in-character, and in para form (quotations, actions written out if applicable, etc). There is no minimum or maximum limit for your response - simply answer as you would if you were playing the character.

What is your favorite place in Verona? | “The Cathedral.” The answer tumbled from her lips without so much a pause. The house of God worked twofold as the heart of Capulet business, and it was there where order and integrity flowed. Humans were flawed, were they not? Justice was not synonymous with peace, nor righteousness with divinity. But, God gave comfort and hope to the people, and it was only fitting that behind it all, the Capulets did God’s work to serve and keep warm their Verona. Just like the Medicis did once for Florence, the Capulets did so for Verona. “There is a certain sense of… Order to the place that is a comfort, a place where I can clear my mind and take a moment both at the beginning and end of the day to find peace.” Katarina’s words were lilted with the tone of a woman who had calculated every move she had and would make, steady and without an ounce of indecisiveness while her voice kept to a smoky yet calm sound, sliding pleasurably from her tongue. No one ever doubted the blonde’s conviction in her words, and why would they? She wasn’t a liar. The elder Du Pont loved order and rules, and by god, the way she lived her life was a direct example. It was after she gave answer she finally graced the other with a smile. “The Cathedral, it is beautiful, it it not?”

What does your typical day look like? | Her brow had arched somewhat, but the stoicness of her other features had yet not moved an inch. “My typical day?” Katarina had almost laughed. Almost. There was nothing ever typical in her day, in her life. There was no such thing as monotony in the lifestyle of a Capulet cop such as she. Sitting up straighter, the blonde’s arms fold one over the other, the small twitch at the corner of her mouth barely giving the possibility of a half-smile before it disappeared again as she spoke. “I wake up at four, turn on my kettle and make a sort of ‘tea’ for myself, consisting of lemon, apple cider vinegar, a few drops of liquid cayenne, and ground cinnamon and ginger. After a half hour of easy yoga, I make a protein shake before I work out with weights.” She seemed… Bored? Amused? The details of her life had never been asked about, and in her line of profession, the less people knew the better. But, perhaps, just this once, she would give details of her life. Her arm came out then, turning on the elbow to cross almost diagonally ahead of her, patting at the table gently per each of the next two steps in her routine. “I then get ready for work, and travel to The Cathedral before I make my way to the precinct. From there, the day to day differs. But, every night it is the same. The Cathedral, tea, and a bath before bed.” Katarina blinked once then, pausing from the monotonous way she delivered the broad strokes of the painting of her life. “The life of a cop can be very boring, I do promise you.”

What has been your biggest mistake thus far? | Her chin tilted downwards now, regarding them carefully with her crystalline gaze. In truth, her biggest mistake in her life had been wishing and wanting for a younger sister. What Katarina had wanted was a playmate, a comrade in arms that would be by her side. Yet with but a small age gap between them, the Du Pont girls could be no more different than oil and water. They did not get along– no, and they never would. “My biggest mistake in my life was not asking for a third sibling. Third time’s a charm, isn’t it?” It was a joke, mostly, a half-smile finally coming to fruition. It was no secret that she and darling Bunny did not get along. If Katarina could avoid her entirely, she would. And on a day to day basis, her little sister never came to mind– almost entirely forgotten with distaste until someone thrust that bitterness back to her mouth at the sound of her sister’s name. Or worse yet, the sight or sound of the younger woman herself. But it seemed almost sinister, with the way her head was tilted before Katarina brought her chin up with a haughty glance, words cutting and sure. “I don’t believe in mistakes. I believe that things happen for a reason, action and reaction, whatever path had been necessary to get there and to the destination are a part of life. What a mistake is, is a lesson to be learned from, and an opportunity to grow. Agree, or disagree?”

What has been the most difficult task asked of you? | This is the first time during the interview that she had furrowed her brows, head tilting to the side as she contemplated her answer. What was the most difficult task asked of her? Straightening once more, Katarina Du Pont had intertwined her lithe fingers together, seeming to toy with a few answers before one tumbled eloquently from her lips. “I do not recall ever having a difficult task asked of me.” As she spoke, a challenging glint came to her eyes, as if she were next to explain any or every task given to her and explain her case. Breezily, she continued: “Or rather, I can not say, retrospectively, that any task could be called difficult enough to stand out as the most difficult. My profession requires me to do what I must for the good of the people and for the sake of the law.” Who’s law? The Capulets? Verona’s? She wore a badge, toted a gun and around and yet– And, yet, she wore a cross ‘round her neck, spending time in the place of God that without question belonged to the Capulets. It did occur to her once that her vocation made her loyalty questionable. But, Katarina had never been one to lie. She could never be bothered to twist sly, pretty words like her sister. Brigette gave someone what they wanted to hear. And the elder of the two gave the incontestable truth. No matter how much or who it hurt. Facts would always be better than some addle-brained fiction after all. “ Does holding my tongue from time to time count as a difficult task? I assure you, even that does not happen often.”

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues? | “If it were not the Capulets and Montagues, it would be another family,” Katarina shrugged, sitting back in her seat as she drummed her fingers once on the tabletop before continuing to speak. “We,” Was Katarina speaking for the police force or the Capulets? Who could know? “Protect the innocent and give justice for those wronged.” The blonde spoke with conviction, believing every word that fell from her lips without giving the other any reason to doubt her belief. She did what was right. The woman lived her life based on facts, evidence. There was no room in her mind for daydreams or pretending that the world around her was not a warzone. No, the blonde lived in the present, moving forward towards the future and whatever it might bring. “Living is war itself, is it not? We war within ourselves, push against the odds. I do not wish to see the uninvolved, the innocent people of Verona to be harmed. This place is my home– and what else am I to do than continue to live?”

In-Character Para Sample: N/A

Extras:

PINTEREST BOARD

#accepted #accepted: katherine

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smutfornerds · 6 years ago

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The Dating Game // Team Flash x Reader

A/N: ahhh babes this was so fun!! this idea came straight from our Wells discord groupchat! The lovely @itsprongs has a sister fic series that you should 20000% go read to get further immersed into the wonderful world of Wells boys fighting for your love. Hope you all enjoy!! ps it’s ‘team flash’ because literally everyone is in this and I didn’t wanna spoil who wins!!!

Also no smut here! Just fluff and funnies!

—

A loud and obnoxious squawking jolted you from a deep slumber. Creaking your eyes open you found that you’d apparently left your window cracked when you fell asleep, and now a less than friendly crow was perched on the telephone poll outside to help you start your day. “Thanks for that..” you muttered sleepily, reluctantly sitting up to slide the pane fully closed. You stretched, a yawn engulfing your face while you heard your phone buzz on your headboard. Reaching up for it you saw three missed calls. A humorless laugh spilled from you and you flopped back onto your bed reading the names of all three iterations of a Mr. Harrison Wells. An hour ago, HR. He left a simple but blabbery voicemail asking how you were doing and if you were coming in today and if you could bring coffee. Twenty minutes later, a call and text from Harry. A short but sweet ‘Rise and shine, we need our seamstress.’ The idea that Barry or Cisco had ripped yet another hole in their suits made your fingers ache. Finally one last missed call from Sherloque, the little eyeglass emoji he’d placed beside his name making you roll your eyes in frustration.

These men were relentless. Every minute of your day at least one of them was begging for your attention, most days being two of them biting each other’s heads off while the third distracted you. It never ended, each day bringing new things for them to bicker about or new ways to try to win your affection. The week before, HR and Sherloque had gotten lost in arguing over who was a better romancer, and while they debated Harry led you off to his lab to where he’d made a Big Belly Burger picnic on the floor. He won that argument. The following day, the detective made you a sample tray of tea while giving you a much needed shoulder rub. To top it off, Friday night had ended with HR twirling you around the training room to flirtatious swing music and half a bottle of rosé in your veins. You were in system overload by the weekend and had holed up in your apartment for the entirety of it, keeping your phone on silent and catching up on housework and reading. It was helpful in clearing your mind of the ongoing battle but of course the tauntingly bright and early Monday morning would thrust you right back into their games, unbeknownst to you quite literally.

Not bothering to respond to any of them, you opted for texting Cisco that you’d be there in an hour. Being a hermit indoors for three days meant you needed a shower and a fresh face of makeup to hide your eye bags. Waiting until you got a ‘good to go!’ in response you hopped into the steaming water to ease the growing tensions about facing the Wells boys again. Each one held a special place in your heart, and when you were alone with them it made it so hard to keep your feelings for the others in check. Rinsing the suds from your hair you finally shut the water off and wrapped yourself in a towel to start getting ready. You’d showered faster than anticipated so you took the time to perfect your hair and outfit. The green sundress you wore let your white bra peak out slightly but the lace was a nice touch to your outfit so you didn’t mind it. Slipping your black sneakers on you reluctantly headed for Star Labs. The last thing you expected was the Cortex to be empty. It was 11 AM on a Monday, usually the entire team was packed into the room discussing one thing or another about one meta or another. Today though it was silent. A notecard was perched curiously on the keyboard at the main desk and you lifted it to read what was written. ‘Let the games begin! Meet us in the lounge.’ It wasn’t signed but you’d seen enough of his love notes to Iris to know that was Barry’s speedy chicken-scratch handwriting. Your eyes narrowed at it trying to decode his words but you sighed defeatedly as you headed downstairs.

Once you exited the elevator you could hear a murmur of voices float down the hallway. As your footsteps approached though they were shushed, rather violently, until you walked in and your mouth fell open. The entire team was gathered on the couches, sans the three lookalike lover boys of yours. Cisco and Ralph stood - in disastrously bright blue and yellow colored suits - on a newly made platform, three cubicle looking squared off areas beside them. Behind the group was a softly buzzing scoreboard, and you read over the words ‘contestant 1, contestant 2, contestant 3’ in a column along the side of it. Your eyes scanned the entire room never faltering from your stunned expression. Quickly Iris fell into a fit if giggling and Barry followed soon after, shushing her softly. “This is not happening..” you muttered and began to turn on your heel to run, but before you could even about-face, the speedster whirred you into the chair on the make-shift stage. In front of you all your friends’ faces shown how amused they were and you glared at all of them equally. “So this was a group effort I take it?” You hollered over to them and they collectively let out laughs and hums of pride. Their smugness caused your shoulders to slump back into the chair.

Beside you Ralph cleared his throat and Cisco posed obnoxiously stoic with his face fixed in a classic gameshow-host grin. The shorter male began their little show. “Welcome, Team Flash to the first, and hopefully only,” he paused and Ralph joined him now. “Wells Dating Game!” Your friends all erupted in clapping and yelling, making your face burn even redder. Finally breaking from their charismatic personas, the boys turned to you with wide smiles. “We’re sorry for the ambush, we just can’t deal with them fighting over you all the time anymore.” Ralph mused. “None of them are getting any work done!” Cisco rattles out, and finally you let out a nervous giggle and nodded. “So this was your idea?” You pointed an accusing look to him and he held his hands up defensively. “Don’t look at me, look at the elongated hopeless romantic.” He side eyed Ralph and your focus went to him. He stammered for a second before giving you as much of an innocent smile as he could pull. With another heavy sigh you held your face in your hands for a moment before taking a deep breath and facing everyone again. “So.. how is this even gonna work?” You asked sheepishly. The vindicated smiles and high fives that lingered through the group made you wonder if this is what they’d been doing all weekend long. (It totally was.)

“Each of the three objects vying for your affection will occupy those lil buddies,” Ralph pointed to your left at the secluded little areas they’d built. “And you won’t be able to tell who’s who.” He beamed proudly but you narrowed your eyes at the pair of pastel dressed bozos before you. “Okay, but... one of them has an accent, and the other two speak in completely different octaves.” Expecting defeated faces you were taken back by Cisco’s excited gesture to his right hand, a small remote in it. “Not a problem! Vocal distortion mics boomed up to them will erase all traces of dialect, tone and any other giveaways of which is which.” He stood proudly with his hands on his hips and you couldn’t help but laugh. “So thorough, I should’ve known.” You quipped and he simply nodded. “You really should’ve. Alright, all we have to do now is choose a voice for them to sound like. It’s preprogrammed with almost everyone here and some celebrities, so I guess take your pick?”

Cisco stepped forward to where you and all the Wells’ could see him and him them. He pointed to one of them as he clicked the remote for the devices. “Say something.” Your head glanced over to the wall next to you and for the first time you desperately wished you had Kara’s X-ray vision. “Hey hi hello.” The voice came out in a low and rumbling tone, you recognized it as Joe’s voice. From the couches Iris scrunched her nose and shook her head. “I don’t need to hear them say what they wanna do to her in my dad’s voice!” She cupped her hands and hollered, causing a general consensus of nods and a shudder from Barry. You chuckled and shook your head at Cisco. “Next.” You stated and he clicked the remote again, now pointing to a different one of the Wells and he spoke up. “Who is it this time?” The smooth and cunning voice rang out and everyone groaned. It’d been a while since you’d heard Leonard Snart’s chilly voice but it wasn’t doing it for you and you shook your head. “Makes me uncomfortable. Try someone that won’t make me feel awkward or intimidated?” Your words hit Cisco’s brain and he nodded enthusiastically knowing just who to switch it to. Finally pointing to the final of the three men he spoke up. “Have we decided then?” The soft and adorable tone of Caitlin’s voice drifting through the room and you nodded once. “Perfect! Not weird, not creepy, just sweet lil’ ol’ Caity cat.” You smiled over at her and she playfully blew you a kiss. “Alrighty then, ladies and gents we have a game to play!” Ralph hollered and the group erupted in cheers again and finally you laughed along with them, letting your nerves shake off with each huff.

Cisco stayed in his place in front of all of you. Ralph took a seat near you with a small switchboard in his hands. With a wide grin, the raven haired meta cleared his throat and fell back into his overzealous persona as he began. “Question number one! Contestants, if you could take our blushing beauty on a date anywhere in the multiverse, where would it be and why?” He paused and waggled his eyebrows gaining laughter from the group. “Contestant number one?” He pointed to the cubicle closest to you and you waited, Caitlin’s voice echoing the words to the air. “Preferably somewhere close to home. Can’t be too far when things.. progress.” The words made you giggle solely because of the voice saying them, but you still felt a hint of pink hit your cheeks knowing one of the Wells’ had truly said it. Cisco playfully fanned himself before continuing. “Contestant number two?” The next male cleared their throat trying to sound deeper but the vocal distortion device made that impossible. “Somewhere tropical. Hawaii maybe, or Barbados. Seduce her on the beach, make love to her in a beach house.” Again the words made your face tint but you couldn’t help but laugh. Caitlin sat in the audience stifling her own giggles hearing her own voice say such raunchy things about you. “So glad that’s not my dad’s voice..” Iris mumbled and the group all chucked slightly. “Alrighty, finally contestant three, where would you take the lady?” For a moment it was silent like he was thinking and finally he spoke up letting the woman’s voice lend him his words. “Wouldn’t really matter I’d just want her with me.” From the couches, Iris and Caitlin both loudly let out an “Aww!” You giggled at their antics but the words stuck with you. Cisco finally strolled over to you and held his hand out as if a microphone were in it, though it was very much empty. “Alright, which Wells gets the point this round?” It didn’t take long for you to give an answer. “Three.” You stated flatly and the group grinned, each one of them knowing who you’d chosen but you none the wiser. Cisco nodded and motioned to Ralph, who hit a single button before him and a slash shown on the board next to ‘contestant 3’.

“Moving on to question 2,” he cleared his throat and sighed. “This one’s not entirely appropriate. But it’s what needs to be asked.. contestants, how would you woo the lady during a night of passion?” Your eyes went wide and you felt your face glow like a neon light. “Oh, my god..” you mumbled and rubbed your temples softly. In the mock-audience, Iris and Barry ‘oooh’-ed playfully. Sighing you looked back to Cisco and motioned for him to get on with it. “Contestant three, we’ll start at your end this time.” He pointed to the end little stall with a grin, and whichever man cleared his throat coming out like a delicate squeal and you couldn’t fight the small burst of laughter as he started. “Take her hands in mine and lead her to bed, kiss every inch of her and tell her how gorgeous she is before.. making love to her.” The last few words were rushed out, and you didn’t know if it was due to nerves or being unnerved by hearing it in your best friend’s voice. Despite the tone it still made a lump form in your throat at the thought. Beside you Ralph cleared his own throat to remind him the voice did not fit the body. With a sharp nod you let Cisco continue. “Oookay.. Contestant two?” There was another pause as the man seated in the middle thought over his words. “Light copious amounts of candles, have slow sensual music playing. Maybe give her a less than innocent massage to lead into the night.” It was still strange to hear Caitlin’s voice but it was getting easier to ignore when you just focused on the words. Your heart fluttered a bit at the scene this man had painted. Cisco turned ever so slightly to face the Wells closest to you. “Finally contestant one?” This round you noticed Cisco didn’t repeat the question and you knew it was because it made his face flush from secondhand embarrassment. “Why would it matter? The moments lends itself to letting things happen without a need for a plan. So I would just live in that moment.” You could see Iris pout at the sentiment and bring a hand to her chest. You laughed softly at the action and just shook your head. All the answers had been good ones, but you could only have one winner each round and the choice made you nibble at your lower lip. “Which Wells wins this round?” Cisco repeated the alliterative phrase and you draw in a slow breath before answering. “Two. I’m a sucker for mood music.” Again your face flushed pink and Cisco chuckled at your response as Ralph clicked a point for ‘contestant 2’.

“Okay folks for the next round, we’re going to let our leading lady ask her own question!” Again Cisco walked over to you with his invisible microphone and you stared up at him sheepishly, giving a small shrug. Your mind was drawing a total blank on anything to ask, being put on the spot definitely didn’t help. Piping up from behind you, Ralph made a suggestion. “Ask if they’re all the same size.” You whipped around to him with your mouth gaping, and he just gave an unbothered expression. “What? Doppelgängers or not we were all thinking it.” You shook your head quickly at Cisco. “No, no no, that is not the question.” You stammered and heard one of the men to your left huff a laugh that sounded like a schoolgirl giggle with their warped voice. “Uhm.. I guess, why do you think I should I choose you?” You spoke just loud enough for them to hear and Cisco stepped back again to point to contestant three first in the end cubicle. “I want to do right by you and for you. You inspire me every day to be better than I have been.” You nodded with a soft smile, before the next man spoke up without even being prompted. “I for one don’t have to change for you to love me fully because I already fully know how to love you.” His words came out in a sweet sing song tone and you giggled at the high pitch. Finally Cisco shot a pointed finger the the square closest to you. “Because in the multiverse, so far you’re the only person that actually truly makes me happy.” Each one’s words struck you differently and you grimaced at your own answer knowing what it meant. “I gotta go with one.” Team Flash all gave their own dramatic gasps as the scoreboard tied up. “Ooooh it’s neck and neck and neck! This tie breaking round will round up the game!” Cisco jumped with genuine excitement but you felt a trillion tiny spiky butterflies erupting inside your stomach.

The male flipped his hair over both shoulders before sighing, eyes floating over all three men and landing on you. While he spoke he kept his eyes in you, each word coming out slowly. “Do you love her?” The question hung in the air and you felt as if you were going to pass out. That was not a conversation you hadn’t planned to have with any of them any time soon let alone in front of all your closest friends. Cisco didn’t ask for a specific contestant however, he just let it linger for a few seconds more. “All of you are going to answer at the same time. On the count of three.” Feeling your stomach do a backflip you covered your face and whined into your hands softly. “One..” This must be what dying feels like. Hot face. Clammy hands. Racing heart. “Two..” Matched with heavy breathing, and your feet impatiently tapping on the floor you gave a deep sigh before Cisco delivered the final, “Three.”

“No.”

“Absolutely.”

The words all overlapped each other but the one outlier stuck out like a sore thumb. Your head snapped up and you saw the shocked expressions on everyone else’s as they simply stared at the corner box. Cisco was absolutely beaming. “WITH THAY WE HAVE OUR WINNER FOLKS.” Your heart raced but you stayed planted firmly in your seat, your legs wouldn’t move. “Please remove your voicebox and greet your Misses.” Watching as Cisco motioned the ‘winning’ Wells out of his hiding place you listened as the footsteps clicked toward you until those beautiful blue eyes met you - from behind his two toned glasses. A rare bright and goofy smile was spread across Harry’s face and he had his hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets as he finally stepped towards you and you saw Sherloque poke out from the box beside you, HR shuffling off the stage from the middle cubby. Admittedly you were relieved; he was undoubtedly the smartest of the men and had the best wit about him. And he was always the one to put the most effort into keeping you happy without being over the top. Something had told you he was contestant 3 when he gave the answer about simply wanting you. Harry was a very simple man. And now, your simple man. Without saying a single word you hopped down in front of him and planted a kiss on his triumphant lips. His strong arms glided around your waist like they were meant to be there. Behind you your friends clapped and cheered, Caitlin comforting a sullen looking HR and Sherloque wandering off to bury his feelings in his tea. Once the group had all filed out Harry took your hands in his gently, rubbing the backs of your knuckles with his tough fingertips. “Come on..” he mumbled, beginning to tug you along the hallways. The way he’d answered the second question replayed in your mind and you happily followed close behind him, giving his hands a squeeze as you hurried him to his room just a bit faster.

#yall these gameshow fics are gonna kill me omg #harrison wells #the flash #harry wells #sherloque wells #hr wells #not smut;

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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

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You Never Notice

Sykkuno x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Summary: The center of someone’s world is never aware of their importance even when everyone else is in the know. People are hard to understand, no denying, but if we all spilled our truth like how Y/N admitted her feelings to Sykkuno, mutual understanding would be achieved a lot more easily. JK, she needed an eternity and maybe a thousand pushes. What’s important is the result though, right?

Requested by Anon. You are my first Sykkuno request and I wish I could thank you with a tag. Instead, I’m gonna thank you with a fic in which I put my all. Thank you for the request, hope the final product doesn’t let you down. 🥰

Here we go again. Sykkuno’s love life is brought up. This time it’s more frustrating cause I can’t shout how wrong he is about himself and the effect he has on the people around him. He has no room to speak, he hasn’t experienced what I have - one of your best friends living in your head rent-free because you’re just that whipped by them. That’s right kids, some of us never grow past the middle school crushes - they are a constant for some. That can be a good or a bad thing, it completely depends on how you view it.

Currently, him and Rae are addressing some dating rumors that started spreading about them earlier this week while Felix, Sean and I are kicking each other’s butts in Party Animals. We’re not all playing together, actually, we were all playing different games when we hopped into the call and just grouped together after playing solo got boring. Rae and Sykkuno are playing Among Us on a random server, her being the only person who’s streaming right now. She said she just wanted to clear up the dating rumors cause they were annoying to see popping up on her feed on every social media platform she’s active on.

“It’s ridiculous, really. People just look for online personalities to put in imaginary relationships. Are they that bored? I know quarantine is getting to everyone, but damn“ Rae says, laughing a bit to take the edge off her words but I know she’s bothered by this ordeal more than she’s letting on. I know how much it bothers her when people ship random youtubers and streamers together, even when she’s not involved.

And I agree. Ever since I started streaming I’ve been shipped with my friends left and right. First Corpse, then Dave, Joel...you name them. It gets kinda gross cause these people are legit like siblings to me. Unlike Rae, though, I don’t waste my breath trying to clear those ‘talks of the net’ up. I don’t know if it’s for better of for worse that I remain silent on the issue when I’m involved but am willing to stand up for my friends when they find themselves in a similar situation. Some people think the reason I don’t share my thoughts is because the rumors are true, but the hint is most often taken, resulting in the ship ending. Well, that ship ending, there’s always a new one popping up. As Rae said, it’s ridiculous.

“Why does everyone think I am ever dating anyone? I’ve already commented on this: no one would date me.“ Sykkuno says through a sigh-like laugh.

“Why are you so sure?“ I blurt out without as much as a second thought

My eyes widen just a bit, just a bit. I’m not too surprised with myself. I am slowly losing control of my raging emotions and I’m afraid of what I’ll turn into when all my restraints snap. A mess, that’s the most likely answer.

“Well....“ Sykkuno trails off, clearly more than a little nervous, “I don’t have a girlfriend right now, and I haven’t had one in a while...Nor has a girl shown any interest to be more than friends with me in what feels like forever.“

“I’m sure you just don’t notice the hints girls drop. We can be pretty subtle.“ I try to sound as nonchalant as possible while I’m still in my panicked animal mode. And by animal I mean a cub. A scared cub that is now showing confidence but will run and hide right afterwards. I silently thank the universe that I’m not streaming right now. I can feel the heat on my neck and cheeks which is pure embarrassment and would have been more than evident on-camera.

“Yeah Y/N’s right, Sykkuno. Girls can be very subtle, but they will always let you know if they like you, even through the smallest of gestures. You gotta keep your eyes open.“ Rae backs me up reassuringly.

“Guys never notice anything.“ I say, rolling my eyes. I feel the pressure lessen thanks to Rae’s involvement in the conversation.

“That’s not true.“ Sean protests, “We pay close attention, especially to girls we are attracted to.“

“Yeah!“ Sykkuno pipes in again, “I’m pretty sure I would notice if a girl was dropping signals that she likes me.“

Now that stings. That legit makes me wince and cringe as though his voice delivered an actual physical hit to my chest and stomach. It’s really unpleasant, painful even.

“You never notice.“ There’s something about this triple opportunity - proving him wrong that he’d catch onto a girl’s signals; proving him wrong that girls aren’t attracted to him; coming clean about the biggest emotional struggle I’ve experienced in recent years; - that snaps my last emotional restraints. I will totally regret this later, but after the regret comes the relief which is 100% worth it.

“What?“ He sounds very puzzled. I can just about imagine him frowning as he tries to wrap his brain around something even I can’t wrap mine around.

“You say you’d notice a girl’s hints of attraction. OK.“ I nonchalantly throw Felix off the submarine in Party Animals while I keep talking, “Would you notice if a girl purposely doesn’t kill you in Among Us when she’s impostor? Or would you notice that a girl always sends you links to videos she finds funny? Or that she always shares music and movie recommendations with you and you only?“

Dead silence ensues. I feel like they have all glitched, considering Sean didn’t even try to put up a fight when I lifted him and threw him in the ocean as I previously did with Felix’s avatar.

Maybe I was a tad too specific and made the whole situation hit a little too close to home for me.

Sykkuno and I have become really close friends and we chat and play games regularly. As I mentioned, I give him movie and music recommendations and I only recently started acknowledging the fact that I’ve never killed him in Among Us. Natural instinct I guess. In fact, I feel the need for vengeance when he’s killed. I refuse to even vote for him unless it’s absolutely necessary.

Now that I think about it, it’s not his fault he has no clue. I just don’t know how to properly drop hints.

“Um...I mean, I guess I would notice but I’d never think they are that type of hints.“ He finally replies.

On point there, dear. On damn point.

“What does it take for you to be convinced that a girl is into you?“ Who cares that a bunch of people are about to witness this outpour? It’ll make it more real, yes, but it will also help me believe that it happened so I don’t try to crawl back to the point where return is an option. No return now. You’ve already passed two thirds of the way. The last one will set you and your mind free.

“The only way I can be sure is if she tells me, really.“ He sounds so nervous and shy, like he’s trying to draw as little attention as possible.

He doesn’t have to worry. I’m about to pull all the attention on me.

“Well in that case....you leave me no other choice.“ My screen displays me as the winner of this round of Party Animals - an easy one considering my friends are glitched in real life. “I like you, Sykkuno. I like you a lot. And I know you will see it from every context except the one its meant to be in so I’ll be even more head-on - I’ve liked you, as more than a friend for quite some time now, but buddy, you can be sooo oblivious sometimes. Anyway...“ Here’s that regret I was talking about, it’s already creeping in. “Don’t feel the need to say it back. I don’t wanna hear it if you don’t mean it. And Rae,“ I can’t help but laugh at the thought, “Sorry for making your chat go crazy. Peace!“

And I disconnect from the Discord call.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?“ I say out loud, staring at my desktop. “The cat’s out of the bag and you can move on now.“

I push myself to get some work done in order to get my mind off the mess I’ve created. I’m afraid of thinking about it, I know I’ll get too upset to do anything with the rest of my day if I do.

Suddenly, just as I’m about to open my email, my phone chimes. My brain doesn’t bother to stop my arm from automatically reaching out and checking the notification. A message.

From Sykkuno.

~ I knew you didn’t suggest me ‘My Best Friend’s Wedding’ for no reason

Me ~ So...?

~ So, I’m not the only oblivious one here, Y/N

Me ~ Wait WHAT?

~ ‘Nick And Norah’s Infinite Playlist’?

Me ~ Oooohhhh...I see

It takes him a few seconds to reply, the bubble with the three bouncing dots popping up and disappearing a few times now. I just now feel my heart banging against the inside of my ribcage, my pulse echoing in my ears.

He did seem a little too eager for me to watch that movie...

~ So, movie date?

I laugh, wholeheartedly and honestly. Genuine joy running through my veins.

Me ~ So it is.

The grin that is now decorating my features promises to stay there for the rest of the day. I bite my bottom lip at the thought that pops into my head.

Me ~ Phew, I can stop sparing you in Among Us from now on

He sends me three cry-laughing emojis in return, but I don’t need those. I can just imagine him laughing as he usually does with one hand covering his mouth. And here I thought my grin couldn’t grow wider.

Imagining him happy makes me smile. His happiness makes me happy. He makes me happy.

Even better...

I think the feeling’s mutual.

#sykkuno #sykkuno fanfic #sykkuno fanfiction #sykkuno x reader #sykkuno x y/n #x reader #reader #reader insert #x y/n #y/n #fanfic #fanfiction #among us #requests open #requests #fluff #love #crush #happy

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iwroteinapastlife · 6 years ago

Link

For the last day of @auyeahaugust I decided to finally start writing my Teacher AU. This has been in the making for years and I’m excited to finally start it! Enjoy~

“Now get some sleep, Adrien. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” he replied. “See you tomorrow.”

With a heavy sigh, Adrien hung up the phone call with his old friend and collapsed into the soft cushions of his sofa, silence settling back in its rightful place in the big, empty apartment. The refrigerator was too expensive to hum, the building’s air vents were probably the quietest in existence, and the cars on the street fifty floors down couldn’t be heard through the top-of-the-line soundproofed walls and windows. Even his mischievous black cat was asleep in the corner. Complete and utter silence.

He turned on the news and set the volume to low before getting up to keep packing.

“—retiring even though he’s only 36 years old and still as popular as ever. Gabriel Agreste has refused to make any public statements on the matter, but his recent hiring of a new model leads us to believe that this change is in fact permanent.”

“Better believe it,” he mumbled as he walked into the kitchen. The white, sleek cabinets were as pristine and empty as the day he’d moved in. He opened each one in turn to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything and found the box of crackers he’d set aside earlier. His immediate instinct was to set them back aside—no snacks after 10pm, fruit if you absolutely must—but with a wicked smile, he remembered that he was free to eat however he wanted now, and that meant Wheat Thins at 11:43pm were A-OK.

He stuffed three in his mouth with delight and continued combing through the kitchen. All clear except for the banana and granola bars sitting on the counter for tomorrow’s breakfast.

In his bedroom, the big walk-in closet was completely empty and all that was left in his dresser drawers were the boxers, socks, jeans and t-shirt he planned on wearing tomorrow. He got them out and laid them on his desk in a neat pile right next to his open laptop. He mindlessly glanced at the screen and paused as the little red notification bubble from Discord caught his eye.

Ladybug: NO.

Ladybug: NOOOOO.

Ladybug: NO NO NO NO NO.

Ladybug: You cannot honestly believe that Live Free was a better album than Jagged on the Move! Jotm was ICONIC.

He laughed at the woman’s usual overdramatics as he typed a response. At least amidst all the chaos and headlines in his life, his online friend’s argumentative nature never changed.

Chat Noir: Iconic? Yes. Absolutely amazing? Yes. Crucial to his career? *Definitely.* But the best album he’s ever made?

Chat Noir: Nope.

Marinette scoffed at her computer screen in horror. She could not believe what she was reading. Jagged on the Move was the classic Jagged Stone album—the album that had not one, not two, but seven hits on it! She dropped the fabric and needle she was working with and furiously typed out a rant to show her friend the error of his ways.

“Uh oh,” Kagami remarked from the couch. “What was the pun this time? Was it another cat one? Or eggs? Did it at least have to do with the conversation this time?”

“No no not that,” Marinette mumbled, glaring at the computer as if she could glare at the man himself. “It’s about Jagged Stone.”

“Ah,” her roommate nodded. She looked back down at her book in disinterest.

Marinette hit enter, sending out the three-paragraph in-depth analysis comparing the musical qualities of the two albums before sitting back again and resuming her work. A few minutes of peace passed in their cozy apartment, the only sounds that of the soft jazz music playing from Kagami’s laptop, the turning of book pages, and the occasional rustle of fabric. Then, after placing some final stitches, the designer turned the mannequin to face her roommate.

“What do you think?”

Golden brown eyes lifted from the book in her hands to assess the dress. “I like all the tattered fabrics,” she began. “The bright, varied colors speak to the chaotic and whimsical nature of the fairies.” She squinted, scrutinizing the details, and though Marinette knew she was great at communicating constructive criticism, she couldn’t help the nervous wave that rolled through her. “Can you make the skirt longer?”

“Yeah…” she answered slowly, looking at her work. “I can throw some extra fabric down there and tie it into the design. Why though?”

“Lydia is playing Puck, right?”

“Probably.”

“I remember Kim saying the other day that she’s recently hit a growth spurt.” She rolled her eyes. “He was gloating that her long legs will make the track team perform better than the fencing team this year or something like that. Anyway, the star of the show might be showing off a lot more leg than you want her to at that length.”

Marinette nodded as she jotted down the note. “Thank you.” With a smirk, she added, “Kim’s delusional if he thinks he’s got an edge on you.”

“That he is.”

Kagami raised her phone camera and shot a picture of Marinette sitting next to the dress, completely oblivious as always, and sent it to the group chat.

Inigo Montoya: [Photo]

Nino paused with his toothbrush hanging from his mouth to open the message on his phone. He immediately smiled and sent back a heart-eyes emoji. A moment later, the bedroom door shut and he could hear Alya collapse on the bed with a heavy sigh. He peeked his head out from the bathroom to see her face down in the blankets, feet still touching the ground as she hadn’t even managed to make it that far.

“I swear,” her muffled voice grumbled, “the older they get the harder it is to put them to bed.” He chuckled and resumed brushing his teeth as he approached.

“Check it out,” he tried to say around the toothpaste in his mouth. It came out more like sheh-kih-how, but she understood nonetheless. He dropped his phone on the bed next to her and she turned to glare at it, then perked up when she saw the photo.

“Oh damn! That’s going to go great with the playlist you’ve been putting together!”

“Mmhmm.”

She sighed, hopping up with renewed spirit to go brush her teeth too. “Man, Marinette just gets better with time. She’s like fine wine.”

Nino followed his wife back into the bathroom and hugged her from behind as she got out her own toothbrush. “Could say the same about you,” he said in garbled toothpaste-speak. He watched those beautiful hazel eyes in the mirror as she laughed affectionately.

“But really though,” she continued, “those are professional-level costumes.” She stuck her toothbrush in her mouth and pulled her own phone out of her pocket.

Lois Lane: OMG

Lois Lane: GURL

Lois Lane: P L E A S E

Lois Lane: SUBMIT THAT

Lois Lane: TO A COMPETITION

Lois Lane: OR SOMETHING

“My fucking god, tell Alya to shut up.”

Luka stirred to movement in the bed as his girlfriend leaned over him to grab his buzzing cell phone from the bedside table.

“How do you know it’s Alya?” he mumbled tiredly. “Oof.” His breathing was suddenly restricted as Lila lay across his middle.

“It’s Alya.” He grabbed her by the waist and shifted so that she wasn’t pressing uncomfortably into his abdomen as she opened up the messages. “Oh!”

“Hmm?” he hummed, still half-asleep and running his palm over her back mindlessly.

“Marinette finished the Puck dress,” she replied, holding up the phone. He winced as bright light suddenly flooded his vision. Blinking away the spots on his eyes, he eventually saw a dress made up of a wide array of colors that while chaotic, blended beautifully. It was perfect.

“That’s awesome.”

“After that, she only has Titania left, right?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Damn, the acting may suck, but those kids are sure as hell going to look good—ow!” He pinched her. “Oh come on, that was a compliment for Marinette.”

“And an insult to the kids acting—and Mylène’s directing.” She made a disgusted sigh and he didn’t have to see her to know she was rolling her eyes. She didn’t argue though; she knew he was right. He smiled and went back to softly smoothing his hand over her skin, this time kneading his fingers along her spine.

She sighed. “You gotta start putting this thing on Do Not Disturb though.”

“Sorry, I forget that you’re such a light sleeper.” Her only response was to hum and sink into his touch, laying down even though she was still across him. “It would be easier to remember if you slept here more often,” he continued. She hummed again. “You’d save a lot of gas money that way too by just carpooling to work with me.” Another hum. “And I could make you dinner every night.”

With a heavy sigh, Lila pushed herself up to hover over him. Her kiss was as intoxicating as always, complete with smooth, plush lips and that tongue that always seemed in perfect tandem with his own. Even the very first one had floored him, and it seemed her kisses only got better with time.

A moment later, it was gone and she was rolling back onto her side of the bed. “Your closet isn’t big enough for all my clothes,” she stated simply. He huffed a small laugh.

“Fair enough.” The phone buzzed again and he realized she must have been too distracted to actually put it on Do Not Disturb. The bright screen lit up his vision once again as he picked it up.

Bill and Ted: Most excellent [thumbs_up]

“Okay okay,” Nathaniel muttered to no one in particular as his cell phone buzzed across the room again. He finally set aside his drawing tablet and grabbed his empty water glass to go refill it while he was up, snatching his phone from the desk on his way out of the room.

“Oh no man why you gotta do me like this please I’m too young to die!!”

Nathaniel ignored Enzo’s frantic yelling from the living room as he made his way to the kitchen. His son’s outbursts and the video game explosions that accompanied them had long since become normal background noise in his ears.

Oh, it’s already tomorrow, he noted in the back of his mind as his screen popped to life. He supposed that made sense, since it had been 10pm when Marc had sent him the script for the week. He could probably crank out a few more pages tonight before bed and then get the rest done in the morning before Enzo’s dentist appointment.

When he finally opened the group chat, there were 27 notifications waiting for him, 23 of which were from a string of one-liners from Alya. He scrolled back to see what had started it all.

A subsequent grin spread across his cheeks.

Ninja Turtle: It’s perfect.

Ninja Turtle: Marinette, I don’t know how you consistently manage to compliment my scene designs so well but seriously DAMN

Edna Mode: [heart]

“Alright,” Kagami announced, shutting her book. “I’m going to bed.”

Marinette looked up from all the praise on the group chat with a smile. “Goodnight.”

“Don’t stay up too much longer,” she warned. The music stopped as Kagami shut down her laptop. “Remember we’re meeting Alya and the kids tomorrow for brunch.”

“Right right. 11?”

“10.”

“Bleh,” she replied with a sour face. “Early.”

“Only for night owls like you.” The woman stood with grace, hefting up the computer and giant hardcover book in her arms. “Better start getting used to it again; only a couple weeks left.”

She groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

Kagami laughed. “I bet you thought lamenting the end of winter break was over after lycée.”

“I can’t believe I signed up to go to school for the rest of my life.”

As if on cue, a new notification sounded from Marinette’s computer.

“Isn’t that your school email?” Kagami asked, recognizing the sound. She approached to watch over her roommate and coworker’s shoulder as she pulled up the message.

“Yep. Looks like it’s for all of us.”

Nathaniel heard the email notification chime right as he sat back down at his desk. He told himself he’d check it in the morning. He wasn’t ready to be a teacher again quite yet.

Luka’s head was just settling back into the pillow again when a new notification sounded, from Lila’s phone this time. She vaguely grunted in annoyance, but otherwise ignored it. He decided to do the same, rolling onto his side and draping an arm over her waist to pull her close.

Somewhere in the very back of his mind, Nino acknowledged the twin buzzes from their phones, but consciousness was drifting far too quickly for him to check it now.

Adrien closed the tab confirming his flight information and opened the very first message to be received on his brand new teacher email.

From: Chloé Bourgeois

To: All Faculty Members

Happy new year everyone,

I hope you’ve all been enjoying winter break and are ready to return for a new term in a couple weeks.

As you all know, this past term was our last year with previous Math and Science Department Head, Max Kanté. I’m sure you’ll all be delighted to hear that he has since settled into his new position at Cambridge and says that while he misses all of us here at Lycée Françoise Dupont, the university is treating him well.

Acting as the new head of the Math and Science Department from now on will be math professor Sabrina Raincomprix. In addition, to fill the gap, we have been working on hiring a new professor to take Max’s place teaching physics. I am happy to inform you that a decision has been made.

I’m sure many of you have heard of Adrien Agreste’s recent retirement. Though he is known for modeling the fashion designs of his father, Gabriel Agreste, Adrien’s true goal has always been to be a teacher. With a Master’s degree in physics, a Bachelor’s in mathematics, and the recent attainment his teaching license, he makes the perfect candidate to fill the gap in our current faculty. I trust you will all give him a warm welcome this Spring as the newest addition to our team.

Enjoy what is left of your break, and I will see you all again in two weeks.

Warm Regards,

Principal Bourgeois

Chloé shut her laptop and stood with a tired yawn. She should have been asleep hours ago—she risked getting bags under her eyes staying up like this. But she knew the second word got out about Adrien teaching, it would be all over the news and she wanted to make sure her faculty heard it from her first.

She reached up and pulled out her hair tie as she walked to the bedroom, flicking off all the lights in the apartment on the way. What little hair had been pulled back fell down around her head with ease, returning to her classy bob. She sighed and ran her fingers through it as she pulled out her phone to set the alarm.

7 am. She would be a bit behind on sleep, but her morning coffee would make up for it. She made a mental note to grab an extra caramel macchiato as well. Knowing Adrien, he would likely be tired and craving something tooth-rotting when he got off the plane after staying up all night packing instead of sleeping.

She smiled and finally crawled into the silk sheets on her memory foam mattress. As much as she wasn’t looking forward to getting up in the morning, she was excited to see her friend again.

And with that thought in mind, she slept soundly.

#ml au yeah august #mlauyeahaugust #teacher au #miraculous ladybug #adrinette #djwifi #liluka #chlonath #online chat au #lfd

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ericgamalinda · 4 years ago

Text

Sod Manila!

From EMPIRE OF MEMORY, 1992 / 2014

AT HALF PAST THREE in the afternoon of July 5, 1966, a mob hired by President Ferdinand Marcos chased the Beatles out of Manila International Airport. I remember the jittery footage of the scene being replayed over and over on The News Tonite on Channel 5. A grim-looking commentator was saying the Fab but Discourteous Four had shamelessly humiliated the First Lady and her children by refusing to pay a courtesy call at Malacañang Palace. Imelda Marcos herself hastily issued a statement saying the Beatles were to be treated humanely despite the snub, but this was said after the fact—after the Beatles had been kicked, spat at, cursed, and chased into a waiting jet.

Julian Hidalgo, known by the nickname Jun, took me and my sister Delphi to the Beatles’ concert at Rizal Memorial Stadium. At that time he was courting my sister and was hoping to win me over by playing the older brother. They were both nineteen, and the rituals of this older generation meant nothing to me beyond free passes to a number of movies, where I had to chaperone Delphi. The three of us would witness, not by accident, the Beatles being beaten up at the airport, and for some time we would bond in a special way—conspirators mystically united by an adventure whose significance would only dawn on us long after the event had passed. Jun explained a few details about this incident to me eighteen years later, when, in the ironic twists of fate that coursed through our lives during the dictatorship, he and I became colleagues once again in the censorship office in Malacañang. But in 1966 we were young, brash, and bold with hope, and like the entire country, we seemed on the verge of a privileged destiny.

Three days before the concert, Jun rushed to our house with three front-row tickets. Delphi’s eyes widened like 45s. “Where did you get the money this time, ha?” she asked incredulously. “The First Lady gave them to me,” Jun said proudly. And, in response to our howls of disbelief, “Well, actually, this reporter from the Manila Times gave them to me. The First Lady was giving away sacks of rice and tickets last week. This reporter owed me for a tip I gave him years ago, the one that got him the Press Club award. He wanted the rice, I asked for the tickets. He was one of those Perry Como types.” Imelda Marcos had flown in friends and media to celebrate her birthday on her native island of Leyte. There was roast suckling pig and a rondalla playing all day. She herself obliged requests for a song with a tearful ballad in the dialect, “Ang Irog Nga Tuna,” My Motherland. To commemorate the sentimental reunion, each guest went home with the rice and tickets. “Now that’s style,” Delphi said. Then, upon reflection: “They won’t let Alfonso in.” “Of course they would!” I protested. I was just thirteen but I was already as tall as she was. “That’s not the point,” Jun said impatiently. “I’m going to get myself assigned to cover the Beatles and we can talk to them ourselves.” “All the other reporters will beat you to it,” I said. Jun was stringing for the Manila Times and was convinced that getting an exclusive interview would land him a job as a staff reporter. “All the other reporters listen to nothing but Ray Conniff,” he said. “Besides, nobody knows where they’re staying. But I do.” Jun’s modus operandi wasn’t going to be that easy. He managed to get stage passes for the three of us, which turned out to be inutile. It was the official pass, printed and distributed in London, that we had to wangle if we were to get near the Beatles. “Go ahead and do your job,” Delphi told him icily. “We’ll see you at the stadium.” “I can still get you the pass,” Jun said. “Somehow.” He was beginning to realize that concert security would directly affect his personal relationships. But not even his religious coverage of pre-concert press briefings seemed to help. Local promoters announced that the Beatles’ only press conference was going to be held at the War Room of the Philippine Navy headquarters, and that the concert was being staged, not by coincidence, on the fourth of July as a birthday gift to the Republic (July 4th) and the First Lady (July 2nd). Other questions were left unanswered. Had the Beatles secretly arrived by submarine? “That’s confidential.” Were they actually going to stay at the Palace? “That’s confidential.” In the end somebody asked if the Beatles actually existed, and the joke was that that, too, was confidential. The excitement was further fueled by a series of wire stories the dailies ran on page one, including coverage of the Beatles’ world tour, warnings of possible riots all over the world, and a rare discordant moment in Tokyo, where a reporter asked the group, “What are you going to be when you grow up?” The reply: “If you grow up yourself you’d know better than to ask that question.” Radio stations kept playing the Beatles’ hits (most requested: “Yesterday” and “Help!”), and DZUW, Rainy Day Radio, preempted everyone and began playing the new single, “Paperback Writer.” The Philippine Security Corporation created the biggest stir when it insured the Beatles for a million pesos. Two hundred Philippine Constabulary troopers, seven hundred policemen, detachments from the Pasay City and Parañaque police, the Civil Aeronautics Administration, the Bureau of Customs, and the Marines were on red alert. The First Lady bought fifteen hundred tickets and distributed them to volunteer recruits to Vietnam, who were going to be the show’s guests of honor. Pro-Beatle fan clubs were staging rallies, counterpointed by anti-Beatle demonstrations where placards said, “No one is more popular than Jesus!!!” Government bureaucrats had to drive away contractors who were bribing them with concert tickets. On the eve of the Beatles’ arrival, a young colegiala threatened to jump off the roof of the Bank of the Philippine Islands building unless she was granted a private audience with the band. Backstage at the Rizal Memorial Stadium, an air-conditioned dressing room was hastily installed a day before the concert, complete with state-of-the-art TV monitors and audio equipment. Quarter-page ads appeared in the dailies for a week, announcing concert schedules and sponsors. Finally, on July 3, the day of the Beatles’ arrival, a full-page splash appeared in all the dailies:

LIVE! THE BEST IN THE WORLD! THE BEATLES IN MANILA With Asia’s Queen of Songs Pilita Corales Carding Cruz and his Orchestra The Wing Duo The Lemons Three Dale Adriatico The Reycard Duet and Eddie Reyes & The Downbeats!

Early that morning, Jun called us up. “Get dressed, both of you. We’re meeting the Beatles at the airport.” “What do you mean, we?” Delphi asked. “I told you we’d talk to them, didn’t I?” Jun said. “Did I ever break a promise?” On many occasions, yes, but this was one promise for which Delphi was willing to risk her life—and mine, if need be. She drove our parents’ 1964 Ford to the airport as though she wanted to mow down everything in our way, laughing as irate motorists yelled obscenities at us. When we finally met Jun at the parking lot, he handed us a pile of obviously used porter uniforms. “I paid the guy twenty pesos to rent them,” he said proudly. “Does this guy know what you’re renting them for?” Delphi asked, crinkling her nose as she daintily held her uniform away. Jun held up a bootleg 45, pressed in Hong Kong, in red vinyl. “If I get an autograph, we get a refund.”

THE CATHAY PACIFIC jet swooped in at half past four. The airport was jam-packed with the biggest crowd I had ever seen in my life: girls in bobby socks and leatherette miniskirts and boys in seersucker suits, all perspiring and scrunched against a chain-link fence. This was definitely the wrong place to be. As the jet taxied in, we tore ourselves away from the crowd and wormed our way to one of the departure exits, just in time to catch a baggage trolley rattling toward the plane. Jun hopped on, and Delphi and I awkwardly clambered after him. I was afraid Delphi’s bobbed hair would spill out of the cap she was wearing and blow our cover. But, having regained her composure, she stood handsomely in the last car, gripping the rail; it was no wonder Jun risked life, limb, and career for her. The trolley rattled past armored cars, fire trucks, riot squads, and troops of motorcycle police who were wearing special cowboy hats for this occasion. As soon as the trolley cranked to a stop under the jet, Jun hopped off. He was about to head toward the stairs when a limousine careened and cut him off. Three official-looking men dressed in formal barong Tagalog got off the limousine and rushed up to the plane. What followed was an interminable, bated-breath pause. Jun walked up the stairs and saw the officials arguing with passengers near the plane’s exit. Somebody was saying, “Is there a war going on?” Finally, one official tentatively walked out of the plane. This was enough to excite the increasingly impatient crowd, and immediately a cacophony of screams burst from the viewing deck. The screams grew louder as other officials and soldiers walked out of the plane. By the time Brian Epstein groggily stepped out, the screaming had reached earsplitting level—no matter that the soldiers surrounded the Beatles from jet to limousine and we caught glimpses of them only through spaces in the cordon sanitaire: George Harrison, his hair tousled by the humid wind, his red blazer flashing like a signal of distress, Ringo Starr in peppermint stripes and flapping foulard, Paul McCartney, round-eyed and baby-faced, and John Lennon, hiding behind dark glasses. Jun hurried down the stairs and motioned for us to follow him. “What happened in there?” Delphi asked him. “I don’t know,” Jun said. “All I heard was a lot of words your folks wouldn’t want you to hear.” “What does that mean?” Delphi asked. “Nothing we can’t find out,” said Jun.

THE MANILA TIMES ran a story about the press conference at the War Room. Jun fumed over his colleague’s story, saying, “This idiot did little more than transcribe the Q&A.” It turned out, however, that the Beatles’ replies would be uncannily prophetic.

THE BEATLES! YEAH! By Bobby Tan

When did you last get a haircut? In 1933. Would you be as popular without your long hair? We can always wear wigs. How much taxes do you pay? Too much. What attracted you to your wives? Sex. Do you feel you deserve the Order of the British Empire? Yeah. But when you’re between 20 and 23, there are bound to be some criticisms. How will you solve the Vietnam War? Give it back to whoever deserves it. What’s your latest song? “Philippine Blues.” Mr. Lennon, what did you mean by Spaniard in your latest book? Have you read it? No. Then read it. If there should come a time when you have to choose between the Beatles and your family, whom would you choose? We never let our families come between us. What is your favorite song? “God Save the King.” But it’s the Queen now. “God Save the Queen” then. What will you be doing ten years from now? Why bother about ten years from now? We don’t even know if we’ll be around tomorrow.

ON THE EVE of July 4, Philippine-American Friendship Day, President Ferdinand Marcos urged Filipinos to “recall the lasting and valuable friendship between America and the Philippines” and issued a statement saying a revamp of the government bureaucracy was imminent. “Heads Will Roll!” the dailies shrilled, their bold prediction thrust audaciously by homeless street children against car windows along Highway 54. At the Quirino Grandstand the next day, the President sat in the sweltering heat as troops paraded before him. Three stations covered the Friendship Day rites, but Channel 5 ignored it completely, running instead a 24-hour update on the Beatles. Marcos seethed on the grandstand, and cameras caught the expression on his face that might have said: Damned Trillos, they really get my goat. The Trillos owned the Manila Times and many broadcast stations and refused to accommodate the First Family’s whims. But Marcos had the last laugh. On this very afternoon, back at the Palace, Imelda and the children would be having lunch with the Beatles. All television stations and newspapers had been invited for a five-minute photo opportunity—all, that is, except the Trillo network. Marcos tried to stifle a smirk as he saluted the troops. Proud and dignified in his white suit, he stood out like some sartorial titan: people said you could tell he was going in for a second term.

CALLA LILIES were brought in at nine by Emma Fernandez, one of the Blue Ladies, so-called because Imelda Marcos had them wear nothing but blue. The flowers adorned the corridors of the palace all the way to the formal dining hall, where about a hundred youngsters, ages three to fifteen, listlessly waited for the Beatles. Imee, the eldest of the Marcos children, sporting a new bobcut hairdo, sat at the head of the table. Her younger sister Irene sat beside her, reticent and uncomfortable in Sunday clothes. Ferdinand Junior, master Bongbong to one and all, was wearing a bowtie and a starched cotton shirt, and his attire apparently made him restless, as he kept sliding off his seat to pace the floor. Around them were children of ministers, generals, business tycoons, and friends of the family, sitting under buntings of red, white, and blue and paper flags of the United States and the Philippines. Imelda Marcos walked in at exactly eleven. Emma Fernandez approached her, wringing her hands, and whispered in her ear: “They’re late!” Imelda brushed her off, an imperceptible smile parting her lips. She kissed the children one by one, Imee dodging and receiving instead a red smear on the ear. She inspected the cutlery, the lilies, the nameplates: two R’s each for Harrison and Starr, check; two N’s for Lennon; and no A in Mc. She scanned the room proudly, deflecting the grateful, expectant faces, the small fingers clutching cardboard tickets to the concert. At half past eleven the children began complaining, so breadsticks and some juice were served. Imelda walked around the hall, stopping to strike a pose for the palace photographers. “Good shot, Madame!” The photographers were the best in the field, plucked out of the newsrooms to accompany her on all her itineraries. They had been sufficiently instructed on which angle to shoot from and which side to take, and anyone who took the wrong shot was dismissed posthaste, his camera and negatives confiscated. The children were more difficult to shoot: bratty and impatient, they always came out pouting, with their chins stuck out. It was always best to avoid them. Unknown to this gathering, a commotion was going on at the lobby of the Manila Hotel. On hand were Brian Epstein and members of the concert crew; Colonel Justin Flores and Captain Nilo Cunanan of the Philippine Constabulary; Sonny Balatbat, the teenage son of Secretary of State Roberto Balatbat; Captain Fred Santos of the Presidential Guard; Major Tommy Young and Colonel Efren Morales of the Manila Police District; and local promoter Rene Amos. “We had an agreement,” Colonel Flores was saying. “We sent a telegram to Tokyo.” “I don’t know about any fucking telegram,” Epstein replied. “The First Lady and the children have been waiting all morning.” “Nobody told them to wait.” “The First Lady will be very, very disappointed.” Brian Epstein looked the colonel in the eye and said, “If they want to see the Beatles, let them come here.” At the stroke of noon, Imelda Marcos rose from her chair and walked out of the dining hall. “The children can wait,” she said, “but I have more important things to do.” As soon as she was gone, Imee pushed back her chair, fished out her ticket, and tore it in two. The other children followed, and for a few seconds there was no sound in the hall but the sound of tickets being torn. Bongbong hovered near the plate that had been reserved for John Lennon. “I really much prefer the Rolling Stones,” he said. Photographers caught the young master at that moment, his eyes wide and blank. Imee looked at him and remarked, “The only Beatles song I liked was ‘Run for Your Life.’” She looked around the hall defiantly. She had never been so embarrassed in her life. People always said that among the three Marcos children, she was the sensitive one. That morning she seemed she was about to cry.

The Beatles: Mass Hysteria! By Jun Hidalgo

Eighty thousand hysterical fans cramped into Rizal Memorial Stadium to watch the Beatles, the largest crowd Manila has seen since the Elorde-Ortiz boxing match in the same stadium. While traffic snarled to a standstill along Dakota Street, 720 policemen, 35 special detectives and the entire contingent of the Manila Fire Department stood guard as the Liverpool quartet performed their hits before thousands of cheering and screaming fans, many of whom had waited to get inside the stadium since early morning…

WHEN THE GATES finally opened, all hell broke loose. I held on to Delphi, who held on to Jun, and the three of us braved the onslaught as we squeezed past security and found ourselves, miraculously intact, on the front row beside the Vox speakers. “I don’t want to sit here,” Delphi protested. “We’re going to blast our ears off!” “Relax,” Jun said. “Everybody’ll be screaming anyway. We have the best seats in the house.” Everyone in the stadium was a mophead, except the Vietnam volunteers sitting in our row, whose heads had been cleanly shaved. They were young men plucked from the provinces, and many of them were never coming home again. I was so relieved I had grown my hair longer that summer. My hair was a clear sign that, despite my young age, I had gained honorary membership in the exclusive cabal of this generation. You could tell who the pigs were: they were the ones who roamed around, their ears pink and their heads shaved clean like the Vietnam volunteers. Some of them had guns under into their belts; they had been warned that a riot could break out.

…Soaked in sweat, Beatles fans impatiently heckled the opening acts, and emcees had to threaten the crowd that the Beatles would not perform until the audience simmered down.

And when the Beatles finally opened with “I Wanna Be Your Man,” you could feel the excitement ripping through you, a detonation of such magnitude your entire being seemed to explode. I couldn’t hear anything except a long, extended shrill—the whole stadium screaming its lungs out. I looked at Delphi. She was holding her head between her hands and her eyes were bulging out and her mouth was stretched to an 0, and all I could hear was this long, high-pitched scream coming out of her mouth. I had never seen Delphi like that before, and I would never, for the rest of her life, see her as remorselessly young as she was that afternoon.

THE MORNING AFTER the concert, Jun asked Delphi if we could take the Ford to Manila Hotel. “Why do you have to take us along?” Delphi asked him. It was clear that for her the concert had been the high point of our adventure. “We still have to get that interview, don’t we?” Jun reminded her. “Besides,” he added, “I need you to cover for me,” Jun said. “Cover?” asked Delphi. “As in war?” “Looks like war it’s going to be,” said Jun. Jun had bribed someone from room service to let him take a snack to the Beatles. I was going to pose as a bellhop. Delphi was going to be a chambermaid. Apparently our plan was to swoop down on them in the name of impeccable service, with Jun secretly recording this invasion with the help of a pocket-sized tape recorder. As usual, he had the uniforms ready, rented for the day for half his month’s wages. “The hotel laundry boy’s a childhood friend of mine.” “You’re the company you keep,” Delphi teased him, because she knew it tortured him whenever she did that. I wore the monkey suit perfectly, but somehow it still didn’t feel right. I looked at myself in the men’s room mirror and knew I was too young for the role. And Delphi looked incongruous as the chambermaid: her bob cut was too in. As it turned out, all my misgivings would be proven true. We crossed the lobby to the service elevator. Jun walked several paces ahead of us, nonchalantly jiggling the car keys, but I kept glancing nervously around. “Hoy, where you going?” Jun didn’t seem to hear the house detective call us, or maybe the detective didn’t notice him walking past. I felt a hand grab my collar and pull me aside. Immediately, Delphi was all over the detective, hitting him with her fists: “You take your hands off my brother or I’ll kick your teeth in!” Struggling out of the detective’s chokehold, I could see Jun hesitating by the elevator. I motioned for him to go. The detective dragged Delphi and me out to a backroom where several other detectives were playing poker. “Oy, got two more right here!”

AS HE RECALLED LATER, Jun wheeled the tray into Suite 402 expecting to find telltale debris of a post-concert party (and hence an excuse for us to mop up). What he came upon was something less festive. “Compliments of the house, sir,” he announced cheerfully as he came in. George Harrison and Brian Epstein were sitting on the sofa, and Paul McCartney was precariously perched on the TV set, brooding. The three of them apparently had been having an argument and they all looked up, surprised, at the intruder. “All right,” Epstein said, curtly. “Bring it in.” “I’ll have to mix the dip here, sir,” Jun said, to prolong the intrusion. “House specialty.” Nobody seemed to hear him. George Harrison continued the conversation, “We came here to sing. We didn’t come here to drink tea and shake hands.” “That’s precisely the reason we’ve got to pay customs the bond for the equipment,” said Epstein. “Let them keep the money then,” Paul said. “Everyone says here come those rich mopheads to make more money. We don’t care about the money.” “We didn’t even want to come here,” George reminded them. “The only reason we came here,” added Paul, “was because these people were always saying why don’t you come over here? We didn’t want to offend anyone, did we? We just came here to sing. You there,” indicating Jun, who jumped with surprise. “Do you speak English?” “Fairly well,” replied Jun. “Does the government control the press here, as they do the customs people, the airport managers, and the police?” “Not yet,” said Jun. Paul then observed that everything was “so American in this country, it’s eerie, man!” He also remarked that many people were exploited by a wealthy and powerful few. Epstein wanted to know how he knew that, as the others had simply not heard of the country before, and Paul replied that he had been reading one of the local papers. “What are we supposed to do?” he asked. “Show up and say, ‘Well, here we are, we’re sorry we’re late!’ We weren’t supposed to be here in the first place. Why should we apologize for something that’s not our fault?” At that point John Lennon and Ringo Starr, who had been booked in the adjacent suite, walked in. Ringo, sweating and tousled, plopped into the sofa between Epstein and George Harrison. John Lennon, wearing his dark glasses, walked straight to the window and looked out. “We’ve got a few things to learn about the Philippines, lads,” he said. “First of all is how to get out.”

THE MANILA HOTEL DETECTIVES deftly disposed of Delphi and me with a push via the back door, where a sign said THROUGH THIS DOOR PASS THE MOST COURTEOUS EMPLOYEES OF MANILA. We walked back to the Ford in the parking lot and waited for less than an hour when Jun, struggling out of the hotel uniform and back to mufti, sprinted toward us and hopped into the driver’s seat. “Get in!” he shouted. “We’re going to the airport!” “Did you get the interview?” Delphi asked. “Better,” Jun said. “The Beatles are going to try to leave this afternoon. They’re paying something like forty-five thousand dollars as a bond or something. Customs is charging them so much money in taxes for the concert.” “Wait a minute,” Delphi protested. “Is that legal?” “Who cares?” Jun said. “All I know is they’re paying the bond and now all they want to do is to get out. But they think something’s going to happen at the airport. There’s been talk of arrest and detention.” “Who said that?” Delphi asked. “John Lennon, I think. I don’t know. I was mixing that stupid dip.” We were driving toward the south highway now, past the mammoth hulls of ships docked at Manila Bay. “You know all those people who’ve been trying to get the Beatles to go to the palace? You know why they were so keen on bringing the band over to Imelda’s luncheon?” “Can’t waste all that food, right?” Delphi said. “Bright girl, but no. There’s going to be a major revamp soon. It’s all over the papers, if you’ve been paying attention. All these guys are going to get the top posts. Well, most of them were, until the Beatles screwed everything up.” “What guys? Who?” “That Colonel Fred Santos, the one who led the group to talk to Epstein, he’s being groomed to head the Presidential Guard. Real heavy-duty position, accompanying the First Family all over the world, luxury apartment at the Palace, the works. There’s one Colonel Flores, Justin Flores I think, who’s bound to be chief of the constabulary. Then there’s Colonel Efren Morales, most likely head of the Manila Police.” “But these are junior officers,” Delphi said. “Marcos can’t just promote them to top posts.” “That’s the point. Marcos is going to bypass everybody and build up an army of his own. All these new guys will be licking his boots and there’s nothing the generals can do about it. That young mophead, the son of Balatbat, he was there for his father, who’s going to be reappointed secretary of state. And if I’m not mistaken, Salvador Roda, the airport manager, wants to take over customs. The man’s going to be a millionaire, kickbacks and all.” “How do you know all that?” Delphi demanded. “Homework,” Jun said, swerving the car toward the airport, his reply drowned out by the droning of jets. “I’m the best damned reporter in the city, and everybody’s going to find out why.”

SALVADOR RODA was briefing the press agitatedly at the VIP lounge of the airport that afternoon, explaining why the republic was withdrawing security for the Beatles and why customs had slapped a hundred-thousand-peso tax on Liverpudlian income. “Too much Filipino money wasted on such a paltry entourage, gentlemen of the press, and not one centavo of the profits going to the nation. Puta, that doesn’t make sense, di ba?” We walked up the escalators to the second floor to change into our porter uniforms, which we had lugged in backpacks. “This airport gets worse every time I come here,” Delphi complained. “Nothing’s working.” “And there’s nobody around,” observed Jun. The entire second floor was deserted. “Lucky for us,” he said, pushing Delphi into the ladies’ room and then pulling me into the adjoining gents’. We changed into the uniforms and stuffed our clothes above the water tanks. “You think there’s going to be trouble?” I asked Jun. “Will you guys back out if I told you there might?” I had to give that some thought. In the past Jun had taken Delphi and me on some insane adventures, mostly juvenile pranks that left us breathlessly exhilarated, but with no real sense of danger. For the first time I was afraid we were up against something, well, real. “We’ll stick around,” I said, tentatively. He put his arm around me and said, “Kapatid! That’s my brother!”

JULY 5, 2 P.M. THE BEATLES arrived at the airport in a Manila Hotel taxi. They weren’t wasting any time. They ran straight up the escalators, their crew lugging whatever equipment they could carry. At the foot of the escalators a group of women—society matrons and young college girls—had managed to slip past the deserted security posts and, seeing the Beatles arrive, they lunged for the group, screaming and tearing at the band’s clothes. Flashbulbs blinded the band as photographers crowded at the top of the stairs. It would have taken a miracle for the band to tear themselves away from the mob and to reach, as they did in a bedraggled way, the only booth open for passport clearance, where Roda had been waiting with the manifest for Flight CX 196. “Beatles here!” he hollered imperiously, and the band followed his voice meekly, almost contritely. Behind the booth a crowd that had checked in earlier restlessly ogled. “Those aren’t passengers,” Jun observed as we stole past a booth. “They look like the people we saw earlier with Roda.” “Beatles out!” Roda boomed. And then it happened. As the Beatles and their crew filed past the booth, the crowd that had been waiting there seemed to swell like a wave and engulfed the band, pulling them into an undertow of fists and knee jabs. There was a thud—Epstein falling groggily, then being dragged to his feet by security police. Someone was cursing in Tagalog: Heto’ng sa ‘yo bwakang inang putang inang tarantado ka! Take that you m*#f@%ing*@^*r!!! Paul McCartney surfaced for air, his chubby face crunched in unmistakable terror. He pulled away from the crowd, and the other three staggered behind him. Somebody gave Ringo Starr a loud whack on the shoulder and pulled at John Lennon, who yanked his arm away, tearing his coat sleeve. That was when we started running after them—the three of us, and the whole mob. The crowd overtook Delphi, who was shoved aside brusquely. They were inching in on me when the exit doors flew open into the searing afternoon. From the view deck hundreds of fans who had been waiting for hours started screaming. The band clambered up the plane. I kept my eye on the plane, where Jun was already catching up with John Lennon. “Please, Mr. Lennon,” he pleaded. “Let me help you with your bags!” At the foot of the stairs a panting John Lennon turned to him and said, “A friendly soul, for a change. Thanks, but we’re leaving.” “I’m sorry,” Jun said, trembling. John Lennon bolted up the stairs. At the top he stopped and took off his coat and threw it down to Jun. “Here,” he said. “Tell your friends the Beatles gave it to you.”

A FEW WEEKS after the Beatles’ frantic egress from Manila, Taal Volcano erupted, perhaps by way of divine castigation, as happens often in this inscrutable, illogical archipelago. The eruption buried three towns and shrouded Manila in sulfuric ash for days. A month later a lake emerged from what had been the volcano’s crater—a boiling, putrefied, honey-yellow liquefaction. The Beatles flew to New Delhi, where they were to encounter two figures that would change their lives and music: the corpulent, swaying Maharishi, and the droning, mesmerizing sitar. Back in London later, a swarm of fans greeted them carrying placards with mostly one message:

SOD MANILA!

Manila’s columnists took umbrage, and the side of the offended First Lady. Said Teodoro Valencia, who would later become the spokesman of the Marcos press: “Those Beatles are knights of the Crown of England. Now we have a more realistic understanding of what knights are. They’re snobs. But we are probably more to blame than the Beatles. We gave them too much importance.” And columnist Joe Guevarra added: “What if 80,000 people saw the Beatles? They’re too young to vote against Marcos anyway!” Imelda Marcos later announced to the lavishly sympathetic press that the incident “was regrettable. This has been a breach of Filipino hospitality.” She added that when she heard of a plot to maul the Beatles, she herself asked her brother, the tourism secretary, to make sure the Beatles got out of the airport safely. But her magnanimity did little to lessen the outrage. The Manila Bulletin declared that Malacañang Palace had received no less than two hundred letters denouncing the Beatles by that weekend. Manila councilor Gerino Tolentino proposed that the Beatles “should be banned from the city in perpetuity.” Caloocan City passed an ordinance prohibiting the sale, display, and playing of Beatles records. And Quezon City passed a law declaring the Beatles’ music satanic and the mophead hairstyle illegal. Jun Hidalgo wrote his story about the Beatles’ departure, with insider quotes taped, as an editor’s introduction to the story revealed, “while undercover as a hotel employee.” A few weeks later he was accepted into the Manila Times, where he played rookie, as was the custom then, in the snake pit of the local press: the police beat. He gave John Lennon’s coat to Delphi, who dutifully mended the sleeve, and they went steady for a while. But like most youthful relationships, the series of melodramatic misunderstandings, periodic separations, and predictable reunions finally ended in tears, and many unprintable words. My sister, older and more healthily cynical, later immigrated to the United States, from where she sent me postcards and books—and once, a note replying to one of my continuous requests for records, saying she had lost interest in the Beatles when they went psychedelic. I myself, being the obligatory late bloomer, only then began to appreciate the magical, mysterious orchestrations and raga-like trances of the band. Delphi left John Lennon’s coat with me, and I became known in school as the keeper of a holy relic. Like the martyrs, I was the object of much admiration and also much envy. One afternoon, armed with a copy of an ordinance recently passed in Manila, directors of the school rounded up several mophead boys, including myself. In one vacant classroom we were made to sit on hardboard chairs as the directors snipped our hair. I sat stolidly under the scissors, watching my hair fall in clutches on the bare cement floor. Back in my room that evening, I stared at myself in the mirror for a long time. Then I folded John Lennon’s jacket tightly, stuffed it in a box, and tucked it under my books and clothes. I felt no bitterness at all. I knew that something irrevocable in my life had ended.

#johnlennon #empireofmemory

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cupnoodle-queen · 7 years ago

Text

CHASING SUNS: Chapter 20 Madness

2,098 words

I’ll admit, I had a lot of difficulties writing this chapter. I think it’s because I’m nearing the END OMFG, so I really want to bring you perfection. I’m such a critical nutjob with my work as well, so I’ll admit to having deleted and re-written a LOT of this chapter. BUT ONE. CHAPTER. LEFT. before the Epilogue guys!!

Tagging my baes: @nifwrites, @themissimmortal, @blindbae

The drive was long and winded up and around into the northern reaches behind Hunter HQ, the incline making for an uncomfortable ride in the armored truck. Cam, Gladio, Ignis, Prompto, Greyson and the veteran hunter named Reese, sat in the back cab of the truck while Cor rode up front with the driver. The group in the back kept quiet, the absolute uncertainty of the situation leaving little room for idle chatter. Even Greyson, who usually found opportunity to speak his mind at even the worst of times was keeping to himself, staring at his boots like the rest of them.

Except Cam. She couldn’t take her eyes off of Gladio, sitting across from her with his elbows on his thighs and a tired look of defeat already hardening the edge of his brow. It bothered her, not because it seemed like he was being cynical before they even got to kill anything, but because she could feel what he felt; the frustration at not knowing what they were up against, the self-conscious notion that he may not be strong enough for what lie ahead, that he may let his friends and comrades down, that he may let her down...the fear of how abruptly she became everything to him. The fear of losing her... He didn’t shy away from it, though being bound to someone took some getting used to.

The truck pulled onto level ground, slowed and came to a stop. They rose to their feet and a moment later Cor had hoisted the door hatch up and was there to greet them with a frown, his right hand gripping the hilt of his sheathed katana. “Are you ready for this?”

Six heads nodded in unison; The Marshal scowled, an almost angry wash over his face. “Give me your word, or give me nothing at all.”

“Ready,” They bellowed, and with that Cor stepped aside to let the hunters hop out.

Cam had to look around to spot it, as a narrow thicket of trees stood before them and nothing more, but she could see the very tip of it peeking over the peaks of the treetops; a sharp black pinnacle against the sickly muddled greenish-pitch that was the everlasting darkness. Her insides were jarring.

The Marshal lead the way down a freshly beaten path. Off to the side Dino was stationed already in the back of a supply van, the rear doors swung open and awaiting patients. With impeccable timing a hunter hobbled out of the woods, clutching his hand over his ear though it did little to stop the flow of blood that seeped between his fingers. Dino came alive, tossing his magazine to the side and yanking out some gauze and iodine. “Jaysus, Fin! I oughta give’ya a punch card, seventh injury is free!”

The frontline single-filed their way through the woods, Cam following Ignis and Gladio close behind. The sounds of combat could be heard in the distance, death cries of daemons and sprites of the night, weapons clanking against enameled exoskeletons and men, the sound of men, frantic and shouting and pained…

Cam swallowed hard. Did they assign enough people to their group? There was so much chaos in the mix that it sounded like an army of death spawns were awaiting their arrival. She looked back over her shoulder to Gladio. “You got my back?”

His shoulders steeled, tenacity in his expression but with a softness he’d only allowed her to see. “Always.”

“Same.”

The treeline was thinning and Cam could begin to make out the combat up ahead, metal blades glinting against the light from a sole battery-operated spotlight near the trail edge, erratic movements of limbs and bodies in fatal dances of destruction. But as they exited the forest and into the wide clearing to join the lunacy, Cam stopped cold.

Looming over the scene before them sat what could only be the nest. A mammoth construct so black and dark it seemed to swallow the little light around them, so impressive in stature Cam had to crane her neck back a bit to see the peak. It leeched such thick foreboding and despair, a tangible miasma, a malevolent aura radiating from its outer walls. Above all what was most notable was the spike in temperature; an almost humid, blazing heat wave fanned from the pyramid shaped structure and washed over them and already Cam could feel it get to her. It was like the power plant all over again.

And then from a gaping maw in the side of it, three necromancers shot into the fray.

The hunters currently locked in battle could find no suitable safe escape, and so the Marshal raised his hand to give the order. He offered a moment of respite, the only one they know they’d find for a long time coming, and then -

“Attack!”

Like flipping a switch the group came to life, moving off in their own directions yet sharing an invisible link, always keen to the other’s positions, always steadfast in their guard. Cam unholstered her pistols, flicked the safeties off and unloaded her clips into the nearest thing that wasn’t human. Prompto flanked her, firing exactly in between her shots so the enemy was gifted with nearly automatic fire. And just as Cam’s clips were empty, Prompto flung two fresh ones her way; she jammed them into the chambers, rinse and repeat.

Out of the corner of her eye Greyson was dealing blow after blow cleaving through the swarms of daemons, his massive battleaxe like a pendulum of death as it swept them off their feet and made them flinch. Cor was right there to deal the fatalities one after the other, eliminating a handful of them in seconds flat. Unfortunately as soon as they finished them off more were waiting in the wings to pick up where they left off.

Most surprising of all was Ignis. His complete lack of vision didn’t render him a sitting duck; the tactician moved with remarkable, lethal grace despite dealing with his own darkness, each swipe of his daggers hitting paydirt and flaying the skin of his foes. Once he’d swapped out for a polearm to help vanquish a small naga hatchling, though small in this case meant still towering over them, but his lance made quick work of eviscerating the serpentine creature in minutes flat. And once the foe was felled, Ignis adjusted his tinted lenses as if only the wind had knocked them off-center.

And right on que, there he was. Gladio slammed into a hoard of bashuras like a freight train, overhead cleaves of his great sword coming down and obliterating their skulls while his sideways slashes nearly decapitated the ones who survived the first hit. He was easily the messiest of the bunch as well, his armor slick with daemon blood, droplets peppering his skin like freckles-

“Hey, earth to Cam,” Prompto called, body-checking her back into the moment as a hurdle of imps tag-teamed the pair of sharpshooters. She readied to fire at them once more, but something demanded her attention from her peripherals. She backed away from the enemies, drawing them away from Prompto whilst trying to get a better view of the reason for her distraction.

Red. in a sea of darkness, death and dissolution, a swatch of red mane that whipped wildly in the heatwave emanating from the nest.

All too familiar red.

Cam’s vision blurred for a fraction of a second, pure rage welling in her mouth like a venom as something began to snap into place at the base of her brain stem. She had to deal with the problems at hand first, the imps ripe to overwhelm Prompto at any given moment and so she slid on her hip against the ground, nailing each one with an expertly-placed head shot. They toppled over like dominoes, one right after the other. “Hell yeah!” Prompto marveled, reloading his clip and sidestepping near Greyson to cover his blind spot.

Unfortunately Cam lost sight of the redhead. She exhaled returning to the onslaught of daemons, their numbers only increasing to the point Cam need only shoot into the open to be guaranteed a hit without even aiming. They were vastly outnumbered. They needed more force...

Another sharp snap that locked in right below the first, above the first vertebrae in her neck like a capsule breaking and leaking a substance into her bloodstream. Again her vision blurred, the faintest tint of red near the edges of her field of vision like an aura. In the surrounding brawl and discord, Cam’s focus homed in on a necromancer several yards away, reeling back to deliver a petrification spell, it’s target: Ignis.

Cam sprang into action, her guns at the ready and firing on all cylinders as she sprinted towards the daemon. Each bullet hit its mark, but it wasn’t enough to interrupt it’s spell casting. FUCK-

And then it happened. Like live wire threading through the very marrow of her bones, pulsating through to her muscle memory, jump starting it back to life...it returned. The will to fight, the undiluted adrenaline.

The power.

In a singular motion, Cam slammed the pistols back into their holsters, grit her teeth and reached above her head behind her back, unsheathing her swords.

Reborn.

An earth shattering war cry erupted from Cam’s lungs as she rushed the necromancer, seconds from letting the spell off towards the blind man. She may not make it- “IGNIS!” Cam cried. “DOWN!”

Without hesitation, Ignis dashed to the side and ducked just about out of the daemon’s line of sight. It wouldn’t matter, though; Cam’s blades came to life, her arms buffeting like a propeller as she struck the enemy and it flinched, just in time to send the spell skywards and into the black. She reeled back and swiped, slashed, carving into the daemon with each blow ripping life from its form. It didn’t stand a chance; seconds later the necromancer all but disintegrated into a musty powder, blown to the wind without a trace.

Gladio caught sight of her and couldn’t help but give her a massive grin. “Atta girl,” he hollered over the tin of shouting and animalistic daemon cries.

Back in her element and completely berserk, Cam let her instincts take over as she hammered into daemon after daemon, their blood coating her blades and armor in a dark sheen, the sour tang of it all her new perfume. It matted in her hair and soaked into her pores but she didn’t care; she was high on the endorphins, tapping the soul of a warrior, the soul of a fighter. It fused immaculately to her own, not completely rewriting her makeup but making her better.

Gladio’s soul. Her soul.

One.

She eliminated numerous foes and was midway through another when Cor spoke over the pandemonium surrounding them. “Pull back! Regroup!”

Cam set out to do just that, dealing a deathblow to another baby naga when suddenly…

To her left, the veteran hunter Reese was standing still as if he were being restrained. He struggled against an invisible tether, his arms unable to lift from their sides. Before he could speak, a massive purple fireball collided with his chest and he dropped to the earth, unconscious.

Cam rushed to his aid, sliding on her knees at his limp form. She flipped him over but his skin was scorching, like touching a hot burner on the stove. She eased him onto his back using her elbows...and immediately wished she hadn’t.

His eyes were melting out of their sockets, white streams down bloodless cheeks, undoubtedly dead.

Cam flinched and stood too quickly, not taking note of her surroundings.

Steph was standing before her, face void of any emotion. She carried no weapons, nothing, and yet-

Cam was frozen in place, unable to move her limbs.

Oh no, OH NO...

Attempting to call out to the others she tried to yell but no sound came out, only air.

The faintest smirk pulled at the corners of Steph’s crimson lips. “Cat got your tongue?” she mused.

And then Cam was being pulled towards the pyramid, towards the damnable entrance, the gaping maw like a doorway to Hell. the air was so hot against her skin it felt like an open flame.

Cam had no control of her actions, numb and helpless under Steph’s spell. All she could do was watch helplessly as her friends fought for their lives against unmatched quantities of daemons…

...And Gladio, sprinting towards the nest and screaming her name, just as the maw began to close behind them.

#chasing suns #chapter 20 #gladio soulmate AU #ffxv soulmate AU #ffxv fanfiction #ffxv #gladio x female oc #gladio x cam #angst #hurt

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