#in hindsight he can clearly see that you were in fact NOT fine and he’s kicking himself for not seeing it

[dragonanon]

I’ve got Beehive Gear station brain worms again, and Bee Elesa brings in SO much angst potential for this au and I am here for it. So here’s a mildly angsty blurb.

It was honestly just poor timing that Elesa “returned” to the hive while you had a belly full of eggs. You weren’t feeling that great about being so big and heavy to begin with, and having your Kings and Drones fawn over someone who would’ve been the Queen now were it not for the fact that the previous Queen was a complete sociopath, was NOT helping in the slightest. The hormones from the strange pseudo pregnancy were not helping either, and in fact only exacerbated your jealousy and feelings of low self esteem.

At the end of the day however, you were honestly more upset about the fact that you were even getting upset about this in the first place. It’s completely petty and unjustified, and you know it. Your Kings and Drones have never once given you any reason whatsoever to doubt their love and loyalty to you, and even now as you lay sulking in a blanket burrito and watching “The Real Housewives of Nimbasa City” in the dark, you don’t doubt any of them. So why on Earth were you getting so bent out of shape about this then??? No one has done anything wrong, yet here you are feeling like a bitter jealous cow. And you hate it. You hate it SO fucking much, and you don’t want to burden your poor hive OR Elesa with your petty sour grapes because they don’t deserve to subjected to that nonsense.

So instead, you stay curled around your belly and join the, admittedly bitchy, group of women on screen in reveling in the fact that the bitchiest woman in the group is currently making a complete fool of herself at a bachelorette party. No joke she’s about to get herself kicked off the yacht for her drunken bs, and at this point you’re just rooting for her to fall overboard before she can get kicked off because tbh, fuck her.

The Hive has obviously noticed your shift in mood though, and how you’ve taken to holing yourself up in your chambers and binging reality TV shows. However no one really knows what to do about it because you insist that you’re fine, and while you aren’t necessarily doing anything harmful or bad, something is very clearly bothering you but you’re refusing to talk to anyone about it. It’s making the Hive uneasy knowing that their Queen is upset about something, but they can’t figure out what it is and you won’t tell them either.

The Kings are especially distressed, they’re your Kings, your confidants! You’re supposed to be able to turn to them when something’s bothering you, yet you’re pushing even them away! This is completely abnormal behavior for you, and it has them worried about you and the eggs you carry.

Seeing her close friends and former Hive in distress, Elesa takes it upon herself to talk to you and try to find out what’s going on. You resist at first, insisting that you’re fine and just want to continue watching your shows. Until Elesa takes you by the hands and says “You don’t have to put on an act for me. I might only be a Princess, but I still know when a Queen is putting on a brave face to mask the hurt they feel deep down. I’m not going to make you talk about what’s bothering you, but if you need or want some support, I’m right here.”

Well that broke the dam, and now you’re openly bawling. Elesa doesn’t say anything, but holds you close and rubs your back in a soothing manner while you sob into her coat. After your initial sobbing dies down, you tearfully explain how insecure in your body and position you’ve been feeling lately. And how you feel so guilty for being Queen when it should’ve been Elesa in your place. You feel awful for even HAVING these feelings because by all accounts, your life is so perfect that you should have nothing to be upset about and you should be grateful for your current life.

Elesa comforts you through all of this, reassuring you that you’re a wonderful Queen who deserves to be where you are now and having these thoughts and feelings don’t make you a bad Queen. She does ask though why you kept this in for so long. You explain that you didn’t mean to but seeing how happy your Kings and Hive have been since she came back, you felt like it would be selfish of you to ruin that happiness with your negative thoughts and feelings by making everything about you. So it was easier to just withdraw and not voice how lonely and neglected you felt.

Elesa is still calm and reassuring to you, offering much needed comfort to you as she helps you get settled in for a nap. After that however, the shitstorm begins! Elesa storms out of your chambers and straight to the Kings (Insert the “menacing” Jojo meme), where after knocking them both upside the head, proceeds to give them the verbal buttchewing of a lifetime and she lays it on THICK; scolding them both for being so neglectful to their Queen, that she had to turn to a near stranger for emotional support!

“We didn’t know she was feeling so terrible, she never told us-“

“SHE IS YOUR QUEEN, YOU DONKEYS! SHE SHOULDN’T HAVE TO SPELL OUT EXACTLY WHAT SHE’S FEELING TO GET YOU TWO TO PAY ATTENTION TO HER! HELL, HAVE EITHER OF YOU EVEN BOTHERED TO VISIT HER TODAY??”

The Kings are mortified by the realization that they’ve been severely neglecting their poor Queen, and during a time when you’re at your most vulnerable no less! Their first instinct is to rush to you, to comfort you and beg for your forgiveness. But Elesa physically stops them, saying that you’re currently taking a much needed nap and that if they DARE wake you up, she will personally castrate them both. The Kings know well enough that Elesa isn’t one to make empty threats, so they back down and instead start working on putting together lavish little spa day of sorts for when you eventually wake up.

[hyuckwrlds]

>> caught up

wc: 1.6k you win some you lose some

There are three moments that Jisung will always regret in his life, no matter how hard he tries to forget them. In no particular order, those things are:

Letting Chenle give him a bowl cut before freshman orientation

Sitting with Jaemin during the Calc 122 final (their tests got flagged for cheating)

Meeting you (this might actually be the worst one)

Sure, he knows things could be even worse. In fact, he was really close to peeing himself in his organic chemistry lab once. But even that would be more favorable than his biggest regret—the day he met you.

That day, he’s working a shift at the student store when Chenle suddenly turns to him, gesturing to the tour of prospective students standing outside the glass doors.

“The next group that comes,” he begins, spinning the register keys around a finger. “Over or under fifteen people?”

Jisung snorts; surely the answer is obvious. “Over.”

“You sure?”

“I’ve literally never seen a group with less than fifteen people.”

“Wanna bet on it?”

Jisung snickers, already sensing success. “Bet.”

That was his first mistake.

Because soon enough, the next group arrives and he’s watching, mortified, as Chenle counts a total of fourteen people. Jisung was merely two bodies shy of a victory.

Next thing he knows, he’s trudging out of the storage room in a poorly-ventilated costume of the school’s beloved mascot: Neo, an oversized wolf in a neon green jersey. 

Chenle immediately bursts into a fit of laughter, earning a few stares from the freshmen nearby. Jisung considers smothering him right then and there. His next mistake was not doing that.

“Dude, this thing smells,” he gripes, voice muffled by the large head.

“Yeah,” Chenle agrees, clearly amused. “I don’t think anyone has ever washed that thing.”

Jisung winces at the thought. Then through the perforated plastic eyes, he catches Jaemin barrel into the store, undoubtedly arriving on behalf of Chenle’s erratic texts in their group chat. His face lights up once he sees the giant wolf figure.

“Oh, aren’t you cute?” Jaemin grins, nearly slamming his gym bag into someone’s mom as he makes his way over.

In response, Jisung tries his best to fold his paw into a middle finger.

“Ah—speaking of, I passed by another tour group on the way here,” Jaemin adds. “I think it’s only right that our lovely mascot goes outside to greet them.”

He reaches up to tug at the fake ears and Jisung swats his hands away, scowling behind his mask.

“I’m not doing that,” he groans.

But he stood no chance against the two of them. Chenle and Jaemin easily wrestle Jisung into going outside. They end up (quite literally) having to drag him out the doors and he blames all the time Jaemin spends at the gym.

Now standing at the top of the front steps, he’s held captive by a firm grip around each furry arm. The warmth (and smell) of the suit is starting to get to him so in hindsight, he kind of wants to get it over with as fast as possible. If he can just wave at the group then leave, it'll be fine. It’s not as if anyone will know it’s him anyway.

All of that changes though, once he sees you round the corner.

Fitted in that bright green ‘tour guide’ jacket, Jisung feels his knees buckle as you lead your group towards the store. 

He blanches. “You’ve gotta be kidding—”

There’s a desperate attempt to wiggle away from his friends but it only causes them to hold on tighter, their fingers pressing into the glossy gray fur. Chenle makes it a point to smile widely at him.

“Hey, we can’t have a wolf on the loose when there’s visitors,” he beams.

Jisung’s gonna kill him.

You stop just short of the stairs when you notice their presence, blinking up at Jisung (well, Neo the wolf) in surprise. His heart is pounding in his chest as your eyes flicker between him and his friends.

You’ve shared a few classes with Jisung, and while the two of you have never spoken to each other before, he’s always thought you were pretty (like, really pretty). Meanwhile, he’s not even sure you know his name.

Or that he exists at all.

Beside him, Jaemin coughs out a low, “Wave.”

Hesitantly, Jisung raises his stupidly oversized paw in the air. He can hear you start to tell the story behind the school’s prized mascot but even worse, he can feel Chenle’s hand on his back, pushing him to move closer. Tentatively, Jisung takes a small step forward.

And like the idiot he is, he trips.

With his giant wolf feet, he somehow misses the first step and is sent tumbling to the ground, landing on his stomach as he slides down the concrete stairs. 

This earns a chorus of gasps from you and your group which is soon followed by a stunned silence. He lays still on the ground, frozen under everyone’s stares. Yet that isn’t the most horrifying part.

The worst part was that in the midst of falling, the obscenely large wolf head had come off too.

With his face now smushed into the concrete, Jisung feels the embarrassment coil in the pit of his stomach. He hears someone kneel down beside him.

“Shit, are you okay?” you ask.

Even though the steps were small and the suit had cushioned most of his fall, the lack of a mask meant that he had, in fact, hit his nose at some point. He feels it start to ache. Though the last thing he wants to do right now is face you. He can’t get himself to do it.

Instead, he stays facedown and settles on giving you a thumbs up. You don’t immediately move, so after what feels like an eternity, he hears your shoes shuffle a bit against the pavement. From the corner of his eye, he sees you set down the wolf head beside him. It must’ve rolled away at some point (oh god).

“Jisung…right?”

He stiffens. That might’ve been the worst possible thing that could’ve happened next. He would’ve never expected his name to fall from your mouth and slowly, he lifts head up in humiliation. So much for remaining anonymous.

The sight that greets him, though, could’ve came straight out of a shoujo anime.

Bathed in the afternoon light, you’re hovering over him with knitted brows and a look of concern. He catches you sigh out in relief once his eyes meet yours. Now he’s stuck staring dumbly at you, suddenly at a loss for words. You’re somehow prettier up close.

“You okay?” you ask again, setting a hand on his shoulder.

Jisung is just about to respond when he realizes that his nose is very much going to start bleeding. He quickly pushes himself into a seat and reaches a paw (oh god) to his face. His mouth is uncomfortably dry as he looks at you, nodding sheepishly.

“Y-yeah,” his swallows. “I’m okay.”

Your eyes scan him and his cheeks burn. He looks away, praying you don’t notice how flushed his face probably is.

Unknowingly, you scoot closer. “Are you sure? I can call someone, if you need me to. I’m also First Aid certified.”

He nods again, only to pause at the feeling of blood rushing towards his right nostril and he really can’t risk getting it on the suit. He gives you a bashful look, “Actually…do you have a tissue?”

You smile at the sudden request, laughing softly. “Yeah, I do.”

His heart swoons.

Reaching into your tour guide backpack, you take out a packet of tissues, sliding one out before handing it to him. As best as he could, he presses it against his nose with the stupid paw. You help him stand back up.

“Thanks,” he breathes, giving you a small nod. 

“Yeah, no problem,” you say. “I didn’t know you were the mascot.”

“I’m not,” he admits, nodding towards the two idiots behind him. “I lost a bet.”

This earns another dazzling laugh from you. “Okay, good. I think you look better without the fursuit anyway.”

He blinks at you and suddenly, it’s your turn to blush, waving your hands frantically in the air. “N-not that you don’t look good in the costume. Because you do. You always do. I, um, I just meant that—you know...”

Your words falter and honestly, Jisung is still stunned that you think he looks good at all. He lets out a small laugh, one short and airy to ease you.

“It’s okay,” he reassures. “I know what you mean. Thanks.”

You pause for a split second then, looking up at him as if there’s something more you want to say. Only, your attention is snatched once you seem to remember the unfinished tour waiting for you. You look from the group back to him and take a step back. 

“I gotta go.”

With his free hand, he gives you wave, still a bit dazed. “Oh, right. See ya.”

Though just before you leave, you meet his gaze, adding a quick, “I’ll save you a seat in class tomorrow, yeah?”

He stills. This can’t be real. His pulse picks up again, thrumming against his ribcage.

“Y-yeah, sounds good,” he stutters, a smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll see you then.”

You resume your tour and Jisung turns to head back inside, but not without first smacking both Jaemin and Chenle with the stupid wolf head in hand. Even then, he’s undoubtedly smiling like an idiot.

So sure, while Jisung may always regret the way he met you, he can’t really say he’d change a single thing about it either.

After all, it brought him to you.

[rosemaryreality]

Sonic Prime Season 2 Spoilers

(credit to user bloorpeon for the footage of the new Sonic Prime episodes)

It really is, isn't it?

Before, i've made a post talking about the way Sonic talked about Nine. How what he lowkey contradicted himself, he would refer to Nine as someone like Tails, but not necesarilly as Tails, but then he'd talk about Ghost Hill been his dimension (despite the fact that Nine had never been there, and that he told Sonic the grim was his new home). I found this particular dialogue interesting because it felt significant for Sonic and Shadow's "are the people from the shatterspaces real" conflict.

Now, with the new season out, we have more information about what he thought about the people from the shatterspaces, what they were and what he thought would happen to it.

The answer was quite simple (and obvious in hindsight): He didn't. As in he barely, if at all, thought about that. Once Shadow gave Sonic a plan on how to fix their world, Sonic sprung into action, without thinking too deeply about what would happen once their mission was complete. Once he collected all the shards, everything would be smooth sailing from there. It would be just another crazy adventure.

He didn't even stop to think what it meant for the worlds he created by breaking the crystal, he got tunnel vision, only thinking of how he could fix his world.

Because of this, you'll hear him saying the weirdest things:

I remember watching this cene for the first time and freaking out lol. To me this was confirmation that Sonic did think about how the shatterspaces would combine to become his original world, the same happening with their variants. After all, how else would Sonic's friends remember this?, if their shatterversions and them were to exist independently, how would they obtain those memories? Also he says "you", once again reinforcing the idea that Sonic sees the shatterspace people as his original friends, to an extent, he told Shadow they were "real", yet contradicts himself just a few episodes later, by not seing them as their own people.

However, something about this felt...off, it just didn't feel in character (at least to me) for Sonic to be fine and dandy with essentially erasing all this people in order to get his friends back. And i was begining to worry if the show was just gonna pretend that was perfectly fine and not a moral dilema.

And the this happened

"Just wait 'til you meet Tails" To tell you i was flabbergasted would be an understandment. While the previous line of dialogue heavily implied that the "if the prism is fixed all the shatterspaces will stop existing, converging into one to become the original one" theory was true (btw did it ever get a name?), this line just contradicts it completely, otherwise how would Nine and Tails meet each other? Sonic's idea of "fixed" clearly included Nine in it, meeting his friends and going on adventures together.

And yet, it's clear that can't happen.

While he doesn't explicitly said so, this dialogue heavily implies that both Tails and Nine (and by extention, the shatterspaces and Sonic's world) can't exist at the same time. Sonic is presented with a choice, his world, his friends, or the shatterspaces, full of people with goals and dreams that look and sometimes even act similar to the originals, but could never be them.

And yet, Sonic doesn't listen.

Nine all but tells Sonic what will happen to him if they fix that prism, yet Sonic still talks about Nine meeting his friends, he doesn't stop to think about what Nine told him, about what will happen if they fix the prism. He just tells Nine that he would love green hill, that everything will be fine, that he just has to trust him and things will work out.

(actually that makes me wonder wtf did sonic think nine was talking about, did he just think he was talking about not being able to integrate in his friend group? or does he think nine is too blinded by the idea of a perfect world in the grim to see that he can be happy in green hill?)

But Nine doesn't, how could he, when he just realized that Sonic never saw him, that when he praised him, those praises weren't just for him, that Sonic's loyalty and trust weren't for him, but because he still though he was supposed to be like someone else? when he all but tells him he sees him as a fake version of that person?

How could he, when even now, as Nine tells him that fixing his world would be at Nine's expense, Sonic still refuses to stop and listen.

[sama-not-sam]

Sama "the ambitious" Ali: task 005; the last time

where: Sama's flat in Geneva when: August 19, 2003; 11:32pm CET (6:32 EST)

As a general rule, Sama had not had many reliable people in her life. Her parents abandoned her, Alison turned her back on her, friends gave up on her and lovers got bored of her. But Sama had to admit that Richard Woodrow was not one of those people. He could be relied upon for many things: advice, bad jokes, calling incessantly when he thought she might have been injured. In hindsight, not telling him she was having surgery when he was still paying for her insurance had not been the best choice, but she still believed he’d overreacted. The Twin Towers falling two years ago, though, that had been a more reasonable cause for concern.

So when Sama finally made it home after a bombing at the UN headquarters in Baghdad threw the office into a tailspin, she didn’t need to listen to the messages on her answering machine to know who most of them were from. She took her time changing out of the work clothes she’d been wearing far too long, then fixed herself a bowl of whipped cream with the same ceremony with which someone else might’ve poured a drink. When she couldn’t put it off any longer, Sama sat at her desk, flipped through her rolodex, and dialed the number for Woodrow House.

Mrs. Tristan answered first, as she always did, but she wasted precious little time on pleasantries before leaving to find Richard.

“Sama, it’s such a relief to hear from you.” To his credit, the relief was palpable in his voice. Sama knew Richard cared for each of his wards, even when it wasn’t always the way they might want him to. 

“I’m fine, Richard. I wasn’t even in Baghdad.” Sama couldn’t not cut to the chase, given how long her day had been. 

Or maybe it was because she didn’t know what to do with Richard these days. When she was a child, he’d been an invaluable source of support, and as a young adult she’d often turned to him for advice. But the older she got, and the more time she spent in the world, the less she needed his counsel. Every time she spoke to him, she couldn’t escape the feeling that the scope of her life now was very different from his, larger even. It seemed callous, and ungrateful, to cast him aside now that she didn’t need anything from him, but more and more she let his calls go to voicemail and took her time sending short replies to his emails. 

“Well that is good to know. You do so much running around I can never be sure where you are these days. You’re almost as bad as the Charmer.” There was laughter in Richard’s voice, an affability that Sama didn’t entirely appreciate. The work she did was hardly comparable to the Charmer’s galavanting around the world. 

“The UN does keep me busy.” Sama chose to lick more whipped cream off her spoon rather than continuing that line of thought. She didn’t need to prove herself to Richard, to remind him that the work she was doing was valuable, that she was valuable. 

“So busy that you won’t be able to make it home to visit this year?” 

The privacy of a phone call meant that Richard didn’t see the face Sama made into her whipped cream. She hated when people tried to call Woodrow House her home. It was a place she’d lived, and it was no more her home than any of the other foster homes she lived in or the high school she attended. She also hated that Richard kept inviting her back, despite the fact that she hadn’t visited in over ten years. Maybe he was trying to be optimistic, or to make sure that she knew she was always welcome. It felt condescending, or dismissive, like the choices she made didn’t matter as much as what he wanted.

“It’s a long trip.” It was the least committal thing Sama could think of to say, something that Richard couldn’t argue against or take as encouragement.

“Yes. It is.” Sama could hear the disappointment in Richard’s voice as clearly as she’d recognized his relief at the beginning of their conversation. 

She let the silence stretch between them long enough for Richard to break it. “Well, I’m sure it’s late for you, I should let you go.” 

“Yes, today was a long day at work, for obvious reasons.” Sama’s tone was dry and tired. “Have a good night, Richard.”

“Good night, Sama.” Richard’s sorrowful tone was almost enough to make Sama feel guilty, or maybe it almost makes her feel guilty enough to say something back.

Instead, she hangs up the phone and finishes her whipped cream in silence.

[fizziefactory]

How did you think up each of your concept for your Robo Fizz OCs? Like go in-depth about the choices you made, why you chose their names and such. I want details.

Questions about the fizzies || Accpeting

Oh that's a juicy one… and lengthy too, let's see where we can start. This got so fucking long holy shit pick your fav section idk I'm so rambly-

The very first muse I made was Factory Fizzy, or FF-8842. I can say right away that their factory name, which is the only name they go by, doesn't actually mean anything! I just think it's cute, I really love the number 8. In hindsight, 42 I can make the argument being a subconscious nod to “A hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy”, a book series I loved when I was a teen. 42 is the meaning of life, and FF-8842 is struggling to find the meaning of their life.

But most of all, Four-Two, or Fou-Too, just sounds cute.

They were originally made for a comic that I wanted to draw for the song The Fine Print by The Stupendium, sometimes I just get brainworms when I fixate, and I end up drawing lengthy comics to songs I like. I needed a fizzy to work in the Fizzy Factory for the song, so I made a fizzy with a simple design, clothes with no dyes, “horns” without fabric on them, basically a fizzy that didn't need to catch anyone's eye, nor drain resources and money. This is also why while they're quite strong, they're only 4’1”.

Now I play a lot on the idea of a fizzy that was created with a strong sense of self, of sentience, as soon as they were created. Usually it takes my fizzies a few years to reach sentience, if they ever do… but FF-8842 is a “defect” always at the verge of being scrapped for being too much of a free-thinker. This definitely evolved from the original comic, where they clearly do not possess the same distant look in their eyes as the other fizzies.

The second fizzy I made was The Manager. His name was originally just Office Fizzy, which I later weaved into his backstory instead. I actually asked my friends how I should refer to him, and they liked the simplicity of The Manager, and I think while it might be a little bit of a mouthful, it's oozes just what kind of person he is.

He is the Manager. He makes sure this clock is turned up and ticking.

For the comic, he was originally more of a guide for new fizzies, and of course the one doing the singing/talking in the comic, and if you want a good idea of what his inspiration was, look no further than the song itself. It's all there. Eventually Manager evolved into something different. He became, well, less someone handling the papers in an office, and more of an actual… manager, of the factory.

The idea to make it all Entirely fizzy-made tickled me, and so I tweaked his story a little bit, having him climb from an “Office Fizzy”, to being where he is now, so successful he even managed to alter his own design, which no fizzy of his model has done before… he even owns his own fizzies. Has businesses outside the factory (not to Mammon's knowledge but yknow-) making big cash and giving into greed because of the influence from Mammon, by simply being made in his image, and giving into it. A success story for the ages. He is a control-freak at this point though, to make sure he doesn't lose it all.

I also gave him an Australian accent because he's spending way too much time around Mammon. That's just a fun fact ♡ Also all the green and gold in his clothes also point to how closely he works with Mammon.

Mortis had his name change many times. He went from simply Undertaker, and I considered Morty Briefly… but decided against it real quick. I went with Mort for a while… but I just loved the way Mortis sounded. I know it's wormed into my brain because of Faith (don't ask me about the plot of that game I don't Know) but Mortis just felt Right. Mortis is the Latin noun for Death.

Mortis also came from The Fine Print. There's a section of the song that goes like this;

“If you'd rather drop dead, that's fine

But you know that dropping down dead bears a fine

So you do your job and I'll do mine

I gotta meet a six-foot deep bottom line”

And I don't know, it just fired off my creative juices like… what if there was an undertaker fizzy? That'd be so cool… and so out there xhdbbd. I have always had a complicated relationship with death, so I enjoy writing morticians because of their various different ways to approach the subject. Mortis started off approaching it quite casually… It's hell after all, but the more I wrote him?

I got to put myself in his head and how he was thinking, his life-philosophy, how me having placed him in Wrath affected his outlook, and now he's become almost philosophical, now he's holding sermons in Satan's name and I believe he puts his own beliefs into them… and despite having such a sad job, and how he has to face such misery and grief every day… It's somehow helped him become the most at peace fizzy I've got. Because he understands life and death better than any other fizzy, while also getting to be on his own and expressing and exploring himself best a fizzy can.

He is heavily inspired by the Undertaker in The Backwater Gospel, who is quiet and non-threatening, but his mere presence is enough to send you into a panic.

Why is he here?

Who’s going to die?

He's also heavily inspired by the YouTube channel Little Bubby Child since he's from Wrath and all. I will meme on him til the day I die.

Mizzy got her name from Maid Fizzy, you smoosh the names together you get Mizzy. For a while I also had Dolly as a suggestion, but it didn't really stick with my followers. So it's kinda become a nickname certain fizzies who knew her before the memory-wipe call her, like Thizzy and The Manager.

Mizzy was always meant to be a companion bot, I wanted a fizzy that actually did what the commercial advertised the fizzies to do. I made her a maid because I wanted to play around with her owner being a weeb, and I simply wanted to dress her up in cute little outfits that I knew a guy with his own companion bot would want to see. In time the idea of her once having belonged to Burnie Burnz, Fizzarolli's stalker, wormed itself into my brain… and the misery tripled from there.

I think it was because I wrote out a scene with a friend where I played him briefly before he got eaten by a sandworm (shoutout Beetlejuice the OG), and I recalled his line regarding the fizzies not getting him off right. I wondered what kind of shit a disgusting guy like him would even do to a fizzy if he planned on murdering Fizzarolli, so I, unfortunately, made Mizzy his fizzybot. The only solution was the memory wipe… and that's why she's so head empty most of the time. Her programming is protecting her from remnants at all times.

I really wanted to show how messed up the companion bot situation is with Mizzy, which is why she's been used sparingly. I love a good healing story though, so I've tried to bring her in more where she gets to regain her power and independence and tweaked her current owner to be a little less awful to give her a break… but still awful nonetheless. She's always ripe for fizzy-adoption.

Ginger has changed so much from the original concept. At first she was named Fuzzy, for a fussy fizzy. Then later when I switched up his design, opting for the red design in the commercial I thought looked neat as hell, I decided to go with Ginger instead. It just sounded right, all things considered.

Ginger started out as Fuzzy, who was heavily inspired by Sun from FNAF to be perfectly honest. I have 3 Sun OCs very near and dear to my heart, and I love writing anxious nervous wrecks… so that's what I did for a while. Eventually I leaned into him snapping more and more, running out of patience like Brandon Roger's Mom character, and as I wrote them in IC group chats, I realised more and more that Fuzzy was actually rarely if ever anxious… they were mostly stressed and Irritated.

And I was never happy with the original design… it was cute but didn't spark joy, it felt hasty. I spotted the design in the commercial I liked the most, and I remade everything.

Now Ginger is Something Else Entirely.

She's tired, he's pissed, he's at his wits end, and they're Dangerous if you look at them wrong. They became a Mama Bear, while also something of a Big Sister character… grumpy and with a resting bitch face… but a heart of gold below the surface.

I wanted to explore the fizzy for the kids and teens, the meaningless chores that fizzies have to perform for demons like carrying bags and making dinner and other kinds of butler-stuff, and just how straining tiring and meaningless it all felt, all while Also being a companion for the adults.. Despite Mizzy, Ginger has turned into the fizzy that's the absolute most disappointed with their lot in life, and hates Fizzarolli just about as much as Pinwheel. This is also why they are siblings in the human AU, they've got much in common.

Thizzy is simple. Therapist+Fizzy=Thizzy. Briefly he was called Shrinky, but I left it instead as a nickname he got from Doc, which he absolutely despises, because I could Not take it seriously.

Thizzy was taken from the commercial, I interpreted his neutral face as one of absolute indifference, and I figured this is Hell and this is Mammon so… originally he was meant to not give a rat’s ass about anybody, especially not his patients. However while writing my muse page for this blog, I had him write out short “profiles” for the other fizzies… and I thought Hey… what if he checked up on the fizzies too?

Now he's part of a larger process that The Manager runs where he checks up on the fizzies on the regular to make sure they're doing fine physically but also mentally (at least well enough to perform their tasks), and in time I found that Thizzy actually did care…

He cared too much, which is why he tried to not care at all. Because the alternative was to let it all get to you… Despite not wanting to get involved, it's in his programming to do so, and he's got a good heart, albeit only metaphorically.

Now he's just so tired... and working in the Sloth Ring doesn't help this.

His relationship with Doc is the result of when he was still in his early years and just performed his tasks as he was programmed to do… and now he's stuck in this unhealthy toxic relationship where he has to make sure Doc is happy all the damn time. Luckily for him, he mostly is. At least as a robot-

Finally, Doc! Doc is easy enough, he's Doc because he's a doctor! I did consider Doccy but it reminded me of. Another word, so I backtracked bxhrhe. I worried it'd be too generic but… it just fits. He's Doc. Nothing else fits like Doc does ♡

I just stared at the screen when Doctor Fizzy came on. Those colours. That Forced Grin, those soft little cheeks… that blank fucking stare. This was an unhinged doctor-character and I needed him in my life. My cringe, emo, deviantart-browsing, gore-loving, Higurashi-watching, Hatoful Boyfriend-playing, problematic teenage-self... they needed this.

He hasn't actually changed much at all. He was always inspired by those crazy doctors you see in anime, games and horror movies. Their silly giggles and the over the top surgeries and bone saws and all that stuff.. he's my horror and gore-character, for when I want to write a bit of this and that, which I do find a lot of fun.

I don't know what really made him as flamboyant as he is… I think just the nature of him being a crazy doctor character while also being a sex bot… and when I discovered the Bubblegum Coquette aesthetic- and in time I developed his relationship with Thizzy. His clinginess opened up the idea of how he's probably not got a lot of connections because of how “intense” he is, and while he's not quite as sentient as the rest… he's getting there, every time he reflects on how lonely he is.

His only way to connect with others was by keeping body parts of whomever he operated on, that was All he was ever able to get his hands on fair and square(?).. and he started getting unhealthily attached to those parts. Now he actively seeks them out because it's the only form of love and attachment he understands so far, and if he gets attached to people to a strong degree, there's a chance it turns into love/obsession, which will push him further into sentience, and so on now we have a yandere too.

Cringe.

But at least I'm free.

He's the perfect example of when a robot is Not taught how humans and emotions actually work, and now he's already registered what he knows as truths and facts.

Imma not cover Imposter too much cus really I just got inspired by that That's not my neighbour-song before I even knew there was a game, and I wanted to make a strong fizzy for quite some time, that could work as Manager's bodyguard to make him pose more of a threat than he did on his own. I loved the black and white aesthetic because of absolute neutrality, and my fiance mentioned that it looked like a pierrot and I was like Hell yeah accidental pierrot let's go-

They obviously has a bit of Ennard from FNAF in them, or the Mimic or whatever that new enemy is called... I think it's a pretty natural robot-plot device at this point. It is a fun bot to play in group chats where I can pretend to be my other muses and wait and see how long it takes my fellow muns to realise there's a question mark at the end of the tupper bot's username. It communicates through motions and clicks, sign language, when it isn't disguised, and is very mischievous and a troublemaker.. I dunno, the inspiration is "gremlin".

[washipink]

The Rain Review Year 4 (2014)

Welcome back to the Rain Review! This time, we’re tackling the comic’s fourth year. It spans Chapter 19: Vincent’s Story all the way through Chapter 23: The Flaherty Siblings.

This one’s the last full year of the comic’s run that I was round for. In Year 5, we’ll get into all new territory. For now, here’s another recap-style post.

Summary

Vincent’s Story is a chapter that I can summarize fairly quickly. Rain’s therapist is actually Aunt Fara’s ex. Fara’s family, particularly her brother-in-law, was not approving at all. Vince ended up disappearing on Fara because he didn’t want her to be troubled with the backlash. In hindsight, he knows this wasn’t the best play because he’s worried Fara big time. Anyway, Jessica and Rain conspire to get them talking again.

Next Chapter!

Aiken is rooming with his twin sister Kellen now. They talk about Rain and it turns out that Aiken is... actually trying to get it. Kellen still doesn’t understand or approve of her sister’s life.

Emily goes to hang out with Rain for a “Quiet Weekend” where they share another cute chat. Ky comes over and Emily gives her a word to put to her gender feels. Also, Emily shares with Ky that she’s pregnant. And pansexual also. Yes, they do make THAT joke, but it was 2014.

Gavin’s date is going really well. Like, he hits it the hell off with Ana.

Also, I usually don’t talk about any of the bonus art or the Rain Delay filler comics in these posts, but I NEED to call attention to the fact that I got Attack On Titan Jumpscared going into the next chapter.

No, no, it’s fine... it was 2014. We didn’t know. Everyone was talking about i- OH COME ON.

It truly was a different time, folks. It was almost 10 years ago...

In news that’s positive to me but probably still negative for everyone else there was also a Danganronpa filler art. Not to derail too hard, but most of these cosplay choices are banger. Except, Gavin is clearly Togami because there just wasn’t another guy that wasn’t annoying. If I believed the fandom perception of that character instead of the actual text of the game, I’d say he should be Mondo.

Anyway, back to the STORY!!!

Brother Arthur tells Chanel and Maria to tone it the hell down before they get caught, but goes out of his way to NOT give them detention for it. This leads directly into the two of them making plans for a Valentine’s Day date in which Chanel treats Maria to dinner.

Maria decides to talk to Rain about Emily. She explains that she eavesdropped on Rain and wanted to know if Emily was pregnant for real. You see, they dated in Freshman year and things ended ROUGH, which is why Maria has such a grudge against Emily.

School ends and Rain and Fara leave for therapy. In this scene, Fara kind of explains Rain’s character development to her. Were I Cinemasins, I’d be like, “Erm, that’s bad writing.”

BUT, I’m not Cinemasins and I acknowledge that Rain is the kind of girl that NEEDS someone to tell her that shit. She won’t give herself any credit without it.

This scene is one of the ones that makes me think about how even as I grow up, I see myself in Rain. She’s So Concerned About Her Friends all the time. She doesn’t give herself enough credit for all the good shit she does. She’s constantly fighting back negative self talk. And yet, she continues on anyway. I love Rain. She’s kind of the prototypical trans woman of the 2010s, but in some ways that makes her easy to relate to.

In the next chapter, Collin tries to patch things up with Fara by actually going through with getting Rain her con tickets. More on that later.

In the mean time, Fara and Vincent meet once again and at least try to patch things up. They’re not dating again, but they do end up on pretty good terms by the end of the night.

I don’t know how involved Vincent will be going forward though. He fills Rain an HRT prescription and says he’ll set her up with one of his co-workers because he’s too personally involved considering his ex-girlfriend is her aunt.

Ky, Gavin and Rudy end up hanging out because they’re all single on Valentine’s Day. Which is fine and dandy until Ky spills The Beans.

We return to Rain after her therapy session. She’s so excited to share the news... but all the friends that know her deal are busy. So she decides it’s time to tell Emily the truth. The emotional height of the entire year follows from this point to the end of Chapter 22. There are 4 different scenes overlapping, but I want to talk about them one at a time.

Emily is... really positive about it. She says she thinks she may have figured it out, but she elected to let Rain come to her when/if she decided to.

There’s a fun thing Samara does with the art in this section is playing with the distance between Rain and Emily. When the conversation starts, it’s clear that they’re in two separate locations on the phone. Emily is in her house, the blue background. Rain is in the therapists’ office, a green background. After Rain tells Emily her secret and Emily accepts her wholeheartedly, the lines start to get a little blurrier. Eventually, They’ve pulled their phones away from their faces and are standing face to face in a panel with a gradient background between their two locations. They get closer as the conversation goes on. so close that it feels like one of them could reach out to hug the other.

This was a really fun way to play with the comic’s... shall we say “lack” of backgrounds?

Now that Rain has gotten everything off her chest, she gets an idea. Remember those tickets I was telling you about? Well, Rain decided she could invite Emily to go to the con with her. But what about the other 2 tickets? THOSE are for Kellen and Aiken.

Meanwhile, at Jessica’s job, a familiar face walks right on in. That’s right, Jessica and Chase are going to go on a DATE. And that’s TERRIBLE for Jessica. Holy shit. Once again, more on this LATER.

The other really important plot line from this chapter to me is the resolution of Chanel and Maria’s date. When the night is winding down, Maria says something I’ve felt personally. She doesn’t want to go home. For once, she’s actually happy because she’s unabashedly spending time with someone she loves. In her house, all she’s got on her side is Rudy. They’re both miserable there.

If you’re a queer person with a shitty family and you’ve EVER been out of the house with your friends, I’m sure you’ve felt this one. The feeling that everything in your life is good... until you go home. Once again, I think this comic’s strong suit is exploring situations that are familiar to experienced queer readers and can be lessons to younger readers. This one hit me in the heart for sure.

Also, Randy and Ky meet again and they decide that they can give each other a shot.That’s cute.

Now, the final twist of Chapter 22: Anastacia! How many trans people are in this comic? One more than you thought before!

The final chapter of the night is “The Flaherty Siblings”.

Rain and Fara go to pick up the con tickets from Collin, who is being a lot more polite than Fara last described him. If you’ll look back, Fara broke up with Collin off screen. We don’t know what exactly he said to her until now, except that it PROBABLY involved Rain. Collin presents Rain with her tickets and Rain decides that Fara should give him another chance. So, in the future, we’ll be seeing a little more of him.

The day before Rain and Emily leave for Kellen’s house, Rain does some introspection. She finally admits to herself what we’ve probably all been thinking: She is in love with Emily. She is in love with Emily but is scared to say anything about it because they’ve got a lot on their plates and also they call each other Sis all the time, so she thinks it’d be weird.

The day finally arrives and Fara drops Rain and Emily off with her other niece. Things do not start well, but there’s an unexpected MVP in this scene. AIKEN is the one to reach out to Rain and tell her to give Kellen a chance.

I’m starting to care for Aiken as a character a lot. He’s Literally Trying. He’s putting more effort into things than my own family ever has. He always calls her by her name and almost always gets her pronouns right. He’s clearly making an attempt and he deserves credit for it.

Kellen, on the other hand, is like, MY MOM tier transphobic. She assumes that Emily is ALSO trans and directly refers to Rain as “Not a real girl” multiple times this weekend.

Emily is Rain’s number 1 shooter this weekend. Like, she does NOT let Kellen miss a goddamn beat.

My favorite Emily clap-back is this one below:

We cut to Jessica, who finds out what Chase’s deal is and is PISSED about it. I’m pretty sure things between them are over as quick as they started. I mean, dude admitted to dating a high schooler on the FIRST DATE.

Meanwhile, Kellen continues to be a fucking problem and bring up stuff that was actually just Rain’s Childhood Dysphoria. Then, Rain goes to sleep that night and has a trauma nightmare about her father. Again, I relate. I’ve been there.

Emily is once again The Best Person for Rain’s sake.

and that brings us to the end of Year 4.

Final Thoughts

Another year, another group of really emotionally fulfilling scenes. Holy shit. It’s crazy to me how consistently quality Rain’s character writing can be. It definitely helps that it draws from real life experience. Everyone in this comic feels like someone I have known or could know.

Rain is nothing if not consistent, honestly. That’s a blessing and a curse. The writing is always just right but the art style never leaves the way it always has been. Samara tries new things in this batch of chapters, though. More shot feature furniture and background details than in previous years and that one scene with the gradient background worked really well!

I look forward to seeing where Rain goes from here. Join me next time for year 5, 2015!

[morlock-holmes]

This book is... Fine? Good even?

Got through a couple more chapters and the two obstacles I'm finding are that Kendi is, in my opinion, stylistically bland (This may be a choice, given his associations with his debate club past) and that the book doesn't offer the immediate insight into what the hell is going on that White Fragility did.

It's not at all obvious that the person who would write this book would create a franchise of, as @discoursedrome put it, "Chicken Soup For The Antiracist Soul" and the fact that he did is frightening and surreal and says something is very wrong about our society.

I've read another couple chapters and gotten to the point where he talks about how a school bully nicknamed Smurf jammed a gun into his ribs on the back of the school bus.

Later he watches as Smurf and his buddies beat the shit out of a student on the back of the bus to steal his walkman, and wonders, in hindsight, if he could have or should have somehow intervened.

There's a sort of apologeticness and fear here, he talks about how his anxieties about violence were overblown, and, just like the joke that ends with "But you fuck one Goat!" he says nobody ever talks about the times when your fellow students weren't jamming a gun in your ribs.

But it's also obvious why.

[Edit: Due to my own inattentive reading, I originally conflated some of Bill Clinton's talk about crime with John DiIulio's coinage of the term "Superpredator", although in fact as far as I know Bill Clinton never used the term. I was likely partly confused by the fact that Hillary did, years later]

Kendi clearly felt that the Clinton administration had no intention of protecting the Ibram Kendis of the world from the Smurfs that surrounded them; instead, the job of the cops was to protect some nebulous white overclass from "Superpredators" like Smurf and Kendi.

I had a more subdued version of this same experience as a kid. I went to a mostly black magnet school that had a good academic program in 6th grade, and I still remember another kid, who was mad that I sat at the back of the bus, sticking the sharp point of a compass into my Adam's apple and threatening to kill me if I ever came back there again.

Decades later the only good therapist I've ever had asked me, "Doesn't that seem like an extreme thing for him to do, that indicates something was probably really wrong in his life?"

And I legit had to sit back and go,

"No... People told me it was sad but nobody ever said it was abnormal. Mostly they told me that's just what I should have expected from those kids in that time and place."

And I never got threatened with a fucking gun!

Smurf assaults people on the school bus. Fights break out in Kendi's school. He's surrounded by authority figures who visibly don't give a shit about him.

Kendi throws out, just as an aside, that he was good at defusing situations with the cops, too, a life skill that I never had to cultivate as a God DAMN 13 YEAR OLD!

Racially the situation is different; I was white and those kids were black or latino, so at least I didn't have to identify with them that way, but I did get a lot of messages that, well, I should have tried a little harder. If you don't know better than to sit in the back of the bus of course the bad kids will threaten you or beat you up. Of course if you don't act a little more normal people are going to bully you.

What a monstrous, horrid way to treat children.

I don't think I've ever really understood the visceral dislike of black assimilationism that some black people have until I read this.

The dominant message Kendi got, both from the racists in the Clinton administration and the assimilationists in his community were that, well, he and Smurf were the same person.

They are both black, they are both black culture, doesn't it make sense that other people would see them as both the same? If he works hard enough maybe he can prove that he's not Smurf.

The very fact that he has to prove such a thing is profoundly demeaning.

There's also an undertone of, if Smurf is a failure of black culture, and Kendi is a part of black culture, isn't Smurf jamming a gun into his ribs his fault? Why isn't he trying harder to fix his culture?

To the adults around him, there is genuinely no difference between him and Smurf, between the black kid brandishing a gun and the black kid who might get shot with it.

It is, Jesus Christ, like that scene in Blazing Saddles where Bart takes himself hostage:

And this explains his otherwise bizarre defense of an indefensibly violent childhood which indicates a profound, monstrous failure on the part of our country.

Any admission that this was unusually violent is just used as an excuse to invoke Escape From New York protocol, to send angry, screaming men with guns and badges to brutalize whoever looks at them funny, because none of those people in that degraded culture are victims, that child getting a gun jammed into his ribs by a different child is a future superpredator, and the child doing it to him is not a child, he's s tiny adult superpredator.

So, I decided to keep looking and got Ibram X. Kendi's *How to Be An Antiracist* from the library.

This is going to be the hardest one for me to finish, not because of anything political at all but just because I find the way Kendi writes memoir stylistically unexciting.

It reminds me of those long-form magazine pieces that go on and on about the subject's disarming smile and the color of his Italian loafers and how the sunset looks from the coffee shop he selected for the interview and the whole time you're going, "Jesus Christ get to the good parts about securities fraud already"

I'm not coming into the book with a positive attitude which certainly can't help.

So far the political arguments are... well they're arguments, so it's immediately a huge step up from *White Fragility*. That there is even a cogent argument being made feels bizarre after slogging through the utter mess that is *White Fragility*.

They also, unless I'm totally misunderstanding what Kendi is saying, seem *entirely* incompatible with Robin DiAngelo's approach to antiracism on some extremely fundamental levels, which is making me reconsider what *White Fragility* actually is and what was going on in 2020 in general.

I am kind of getting to the point where I almost want to recommend that people read *White Fragility* just so you can understand how truly shockingly bad it is. Like I really cannot overstate it, it's not just that I disagree with the politics, it's really genuinely awful even as an example of those politics.

[harrytheehottie]

I’d love to hear your little freak analysis! 👀

to me it's about feeling completely pathetic after a breakup lol like he starts it off with "little freak, jezebel you sit high atop the kitchen counter" so immediately he's telling you that the person he's writing about is someone he thinks very highly of sort of like he's put them on a pedestal this entire time and it's all come crumbling down now that they're not together "stay green a little while, you bring blue lights to dreams" staying "green" is someone that's new to something/naive and he likes that about them and blue lights to dreams to me is like he's dreaming about them and then..."somehow you've become some paranoia, a wet dream just dangling, but your gift is wasted on me" now this is where the like real breakup stuff comes in like instead like the memories of her/their time together just keeps playing in his head and he knows that they broke up for a good reason even though he doesn't want to admit it (your gift is wasted on me = some sort of self reflection that maybe he wasn't the right partner at the time lol)

the chorus to me is him coming to terms with the fact that this relationship is over but he doesn't have to worry about them because he knows they're fine and can hold their own but he still thinks about them. to me the chorus is kind of like the opposite of all his feelings of jealous in cherry like he got the point where he didn't care that she had a new man and what they were doing, he could think about her in a positive way instead of having all that jealousy running through him lol.

the second verse is back to those feelings of just missing someone - maybe you're watching their life through socials or through your mutual friends (cherry) so you're curious about what they're doing because a few months/a year prior you would be doing these things with him (halloween/golfing/trampoline/being with friends) and "maybe we'll do this again" is like being hopeful that maybe there is friendship there.

and the final third verse. "i disrespect you, jumped in feet first and I landed too hard, broken ankle, karma rules" to me this is kind of self explanatory like he was in way over his head in this relationship, maybe he was doing things that he knew he shouldn't have been and is owning up to those mistakes. the "karma" might be that instead of him being the one to leave it's the opposite. "you never saw my birthmark" ok this is like theee!!! line to me because it's like the most pathetic (lol) because clearly he's writing about someone who had a relationship with but he still felt like there were parts of him that they didn't get to see and that's something that he regrets because maybe if they did see his "birthmark" (I don't think he says this in the literal sense) they would still be in his life. maybe. if he didn't put them on this pedestal and make so many mistakes that he can't come back from since it is not over. and like every relationship hindsight is 20/20 and I think that's what this song is.

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

A Failed Betrothal /Betrothal AU: Take Two

So here is the second part of the betrothal AU that I decided to name "A Failed Betrothal. This takes place before Part 1 which in hindsight should have been done first. Part 2 got too long so I cut it and started Part 3. I have no idea and nothing planned on how long this will go. Hope you enjoy ❤.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1)

PART 2

Marinette also wasn't having a good day or a good week.

Lila Rossi had been up to her usual tricks. You know, spewing lies from her mouth. How she met these awesome celebrities during this trip and they worship the ground she walks on for her amazing and humbling help. There were stories of these charities, trips and galas that she had been to or was invited to. She has problems with her wrists and can't do simple stuff like carry her own bag or do her homework. She has tinnitus in her ears so she needs to sit in the front where the only seat available would be next to Adrien.

And for the finale.

The desert after feeding the class a banquet of lies.

"Mari...nette..has been bullying me, she...told..me not to tell anyone..*sobs*..that she would kill me if I did.."

Lila dramatically gasped and slapped her hands over her mouth. Turning on the waterworks for a more dramatic effect. They all ate it up, jumping on the ‘let’s hate Marinette, a bad person’ train.

"She is going to kill me now and I am so scared." That snake managed to snuck an evil smirk past her glaring, oblivious classmates.

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

Marinette, at this point of her life, had frankly given up caring for them due to the class's lack of brain cells and Agreste's spineless 'High Road' Approach.

For Kwami's sake, she went through a brutal torture that was training in some jungle temple in Asia before Sabine Cheng, former mercenary/assassin, kidnapped her (Little Marinette took a risk. She ran away and followed her around until Sabine begrudgingly accepted that she was now the 6- year-old girl's mother because screw it, Tom said he wanted children.) to raise/train as her own while she settled down with a baker whose mother may or may not have ties with the Mafia and other illegal activities.

(Mother-daughter bonding days became much more fun once she had Guardianship of the Miraculous. Sabine was ,at first, furious at Master Fu for dumping everything on the girl and losing his memories before swearing to help protect the jewels. Adopted or not, Marinette is her daughter and no one should let a child, even one with training, fight a war. A good thing to come out of her reveal was that her mother was a great tiger to have as back-up. But now, her training regime had become harder and challenging.)

The point was that Lila Rossi would be dead and body missing since that first time she threatened Marinette in the bathroom. The Italian was in perfect health despite what she claims otherwise, because Marinette didn’t want to be the person she was raised to be and also she didn’t want to disappoint Tikki, she was fond of the little red kwami. But sometimes, she just wanted to give into the urge to kill.

She had met and dealt with unsavory characters of all types and she can safely say that Lila Rossi was a manipulator that thrives on attention and like a parasite, latches herself onto the fame of others. None of the unsavory people she had met get under her skin like Rossi had.

Marinette had enough self-preservation to drop the nice girl act and sometimes let the dragon underneath to surface. She stopped doing last-minute favors and giving away free stuff which Lila uses to her full advantage to further destroy her relationships with her ‘friends’. It was better than sticking her neck out for classmates that were no longer worth her time. Attempts to expose Lila had backfired due to the denial they are in, believing the liar to be a sweet, nice girl living the high life.

Adrien with his rose-tinted glasses firmly stuck to his eyes was not happy at all with her decision. That may also have to do where she suggested he shove his advice after he tried to reason her to take the high road for defending herself for the umpteenth time. She felt like the biggest idiot to ever have a crush on him. Every time, Rossi blames Marinette for a problem, he would shoot disappointed looks in her direction.

Alya being Lila's biggest guard dog tore into Marinette for her newfound 'bad' behaviour. The rest of Lila's supporters backed her up with "How could you do that to Lila","I can't believe you changed." Nearly all her so-call friends had turned their backs and lost all common sense to the Italian's manipulations.

(Alya was supposed to be her best friend, aren’t you supposed to listen to your ‘bestie’ over a complete stranger)

The designer took it all with a bored expression on her face, used to the lecturing which was a waste of time because her behavior isn't going to change, no matter what, Lie-la will keep up the act of being the bully's (*cough*Marinette*cough*) victim.

Her heart that cracks the tiniest bit at the accusations. A small part of her, she admits, is hurt that they think so low of her.Was she really that worthless to them? All those times and efforts helping them out on last-minute favors and giving them free treats. Were they not enough to earn their friendship? Their trust or at the very least, a benefit of doubt?

The only ones who didn’t join the berating to 'correct' the raven-haired girl’s attitude were Chloe (who had proven herself to have changed after the miracle queen incident and Lila stole the spotlight and Sabrina. There were a lot of apologizes, gifts and ‘making up to do’) Alix (she came to her senses when the supposed bullying started) and Nathaniel (Lila blatantly claimed to be the artist for the Ladybug comic to his face).

“Girl, Marinette, are you even listening to me?”Alya demanded.

“Maybe. Did you say anything that doesn’t have to do with Lila or how I did her wrong or how I am no longer the person you knew?”

Marinette knew that being sarcastic would backfire but nothing she does or says will change what they think of her. One word from Lila and they will turn back on her. As much as she hates to admit it, Lila’s threat has fallen through and she was alone. Mostly.

She still had Chloe, Nathaniel, Alix, Luka and Kagami as friends. The trust-worthy and loyal kind.

“Girl,” Alya says in a disappointed tone, shaking her head,“when I look at you, I don’t see that girl who stood up to Chloe the bully-”, Chloe snorted, she had changed but they were too blind and prejudiced against her to notice her efforts, “-Picking on Lila, threatening and harassing her. This isn’t you and you know it. Just get over your jealousy on Lila being close to Adrien and apologize to her.”

If Alya had talked to her in the past 12 months other than demanding things that took away her time or anything relating to Lila, she would know that her infatuation had turned into annoyance.

Marinette sighed, too tired of this routine, tired of trying to knock heads so the brain cells can work again. Apologizing would mean that Lila had won. She was petty and stubborn enough to allow that to happen. Lila said she will take the class and Adrien. Fine, she can have them but Marinette Dupain-Cheng will not admit defeat. Bigger men had fallen to the ravenette for lesser offences. A year has passed since the expulsion and the class still hasn't regained common senses, so they can deal with the consequences after the inevitable downfall of Lila and Marinette will be there to see them lay in the grave they dug.

Steeling herself for the pain that will come with the execution of her plan,

“What if I don’t. I won’t apologize to her because I have not done anything to her or even interacted with her. If I apologize, it would be insincere and a lie. And I hate liars.” The former assassin said evenly.

“Lila is not a liar. I don’t know why you are like this.” Alya said, frustrated.

Marinette knew there would be a small chance of an akuma with Gabriel Agreste having an important meeting to attend on this day that would last for the next hour. This was the small window of opportunity to start the plan and also further confirm the identity of Hawkmoth. Killing two birds with one stone.

“Alya, this has always been me, you just never took the time to get to really know the real me.”, she replied, the last part with an icy tone.

“Well-... I- ..You-, fine, then if you can’t say those simple three words, we can’t be friends. I clearly don’t know what a selfish bitch you are. God, I can’t believe I wanted to be best friends with you. You are now replaced by Lila because unlike you, she is genuinely nice and selfless.” Alya declared. The rest of Lila’s supporters murmured in agreement.

Phase 1, complete. Lure the Lie-la into a false sense of security by making her think she won.

Marinette tried not to show how hurt she was, to be replaced by the scheming bitch. But at the same time she felt relieved, she no longer had to walk on eggshells in fear of losing the friendships of people she used to care about. It felt final as she maintained her stoic expression, hoping they didn't notice the glassy sheen her eyes had.

“Then, it is official. We are no longer friends.”

They haven’t been friends for a long time.

Mme. Bustier finally walked into the classroom to start the afternoon classes, signalling the end of the conversation. After class, Marinette resolves to inform them that she was resigning as class president which she was sure the class will be glad for. She was right.

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

Ladybug was, as the Americans say, pissed at Hawkmoth which was nothing new. He had sent out another akuma just as Marinette was back home and trying to relax after the stressful day. The akuma was not any of her ex-friends which she wasn’t sure to be thankful for or not.

Louise Martin was a boy about Luka’s age and mad at his friends who had blamed their fifth loss-in-a-row on him despite the fact that it was his skills that were getting them any progress. They were playing one of those recently released 5V5 skills and strategy battle games. (League of Legends or Mobile Legends. Take your pick, I am going with the latter)

He was akumatized into Hayakuma as proof of Hawkmoth’s lack of creativity. Hayakuma was a bleached out version of Louise’s chosen hero avatar, Hayabusa whose outfit was basically what the media portrays ninjas to look like with some samurai aspects.

Unfortunately, he also had the hero’s ultimate special powers which were making four shadow copies of himself and being able to switch positions with them. Thanks to Rattlesnake’s Second Chance, they know that he can only make a switch once every two minute. Hayakuma also wields a sword, showing off his skills.

Just lovely.

Hydra and Ladybug were the only ones able to counter his attacks with Hydra’s sword and Ladybug’s summoned one. (Let’s go with that headcanon(?)/trope that she can summon weapons for plot convenience and the others can too but just don’t have enough practise yet.)

The others managed to dodge and shield themselves from Hayakuma’s really sharp sword.

The shadows themselves were annoying as they would distract or hinder the miraculous users by grabbing them by their shadows and making them unable to move. Until Bunnix had the brilliant idea of shadow boxing which gave the heroes gain more even ground.

With how strong and handful the akuma was, it was code ‘all hands on deck’. Ladybug, Stinger, Rattlesnake, Hydra, Bunnix, Trickster. Well, nearly every hand. Lady Mǔ lǎohǔ was busy with the bakery. Chat Noir was nowhere to be seen or very late which had been the norm for the last year ever since Ladybug wanted to form a new miraculous team consisting of permanent heroes.

(He didn’t show up for the first few months because the first permanent member was Ladybug’s mother who did not like his attitude towards her daughter. He ran away with his tail between his legs once he found out how she was related to Ladybug. His face when he realized it, was something Marinette will cherish forever)

At least when Lady Mǔ lǎohǔ was around, he would not dare act out of line. When she is gone however, he is back to his old ways.

After saving one of Louise’s teammates from Hayakuma’s sword, they gathered the rest of the team and hid them someplace safe. Using Trickster’s illusions to trick all the shadows and the original to one place, the heroes were going to surround and ambush them and get the akumatized item. The plan would have been a success if it weren’t for Chat Noir hugging Ladybug from behind, making her miss her cue.

“Hey~ Bugaboo~ Did you miss me~? Your Chaton~?”

Thwack! Smack!

Chat Noir was on the rooftop, groaning pitifully in pain. Especially his crotch area. Ladybug glared at him and looked to the ambush point to see the illusions had disappeared and everyone else gone from their hiding place.

She sighed and turned on the comms, (Thank you, kwamis)

“Sting, did you venomed the akuma?”

“No, he escaped before I could. What happened, LB?”

“A certain cat got me delayed. What’s the status update?”

“Hydra is holding him off and Bunnix found that an umbrella is a good substitute for a sword. The rest of us are keeping track of the shadows. They split up but none of them are getting near where we hid the targets.”

“Where are you? I will meet you later with back-up.”

“Near Notre Dame and tell Mama Tigress I said hi.”

“Tell her yourself.”

She looked down at Chat No-, no he is not worthy of being a hero anymore with the amount of times he had derailed and hijacked the plans to defeat the akumas just so he can ‘earn’ Ladybug’s heart.

She looked down at Adrien Agreste, who was sitting and sulking like a child that was unfairly punished. (Once she got over her crush and started looking at the right things that she managed to piece together her ‘partner’s’ identity by accident. Tikki’s confirmation sealed the deal.)

“Chat Noir, this partnership of ours,” she said, gesturing to the two of them, “ is going to change tonight. Meet me at the ‘spot’ at 11 sharp. Now, go home.”

He left with a small glimmer of hope in his eyes at her words. She felt a little bad about the subtle manipulation but with the way things were now, it can’t go on. He was hindering more than helping and the people of Paris that weren’t shipping ‘Ladynoir’ saw that.

As she jumped towards Notre Dame, she called the bakery with her yoyo.

“Mama, are you free now? I need a little help with the akuma and can you bring the horse miraculous.”

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

Chat Noir waited excitedly at what they both dubbed at their ‘spot’, in the good old days when it was just the two of them. Maybe Ladybug was finally open to the idea of dating. Or maybe she must have seen what a great hero he is and was going to get rid of the team. Or realized that having her mother on her team was a bad idea. Parents are the worst and they both can be two rebellious teenagers in love. Like Romeo and Juliet. So romantic~.

He was so deep in his daydream that he didn’t hear his lady land.

“Chat Noir.” Startled, he nearly fell off the roof. No, don’t make a fool of yourself in front of Ladybug.

“Yes, Bugaboo.” Hoping she didn’t know that he was very distracted. His attention will always be hers 100%.

“Don’t call me Bugaboo. Tikki wants to talk to Plagg about Kwami stuff. So you go over and hide behind that chimney. Then, we can talk about why I told you to be here.” Adrien frowned and then smiled. His lady must be very embarrassed about her mistake that must be why she is taking her time. He tried listening to what they were saying but the kwamis were talking in their special Guardian Language. Was it him or did Tikki’s voice sound more like his lady’s voice?

Whizz!

Adrien was tied up with Ladybug’s yoyo. “M’Lady? Bugaboo!? LADYBUG! WHAT IS GOING ON?!! PLAGG-”

Ladybug cut in, “Adrien Agreste, you have been slack in your hero duty and choosing your own feelings over supporting your partner, me, the holder of the Ladybug Miraculous and current Grand Guardian, in the efforts to defeat the enemy of Paris, Hawkmoth. Due to those reasons, you are no longer worthy to be the Holder of the Black Cat Miraculous” in one swift motion, she took the ring off his finger, “As such you are hereby revoked of Plagg’s Ring.”

“NO, YOU CAN’T. YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! I LOVE YOU AND I KNOW YOU LOVE ME BACK. WE ARE SOULMATES, WE ARE MEANT TO BE-”

Adrien went slack at Lady Tigress’s pinch on his pressure point.

“I don’t what you ever saw in the boy.”

“I don’t know either. I think I dodged a bullet here. Can you carry him back to his home? I think I have dealt with enough of him tonight.” Ladybug muttered, as she erased Adrien’s memories of being Chat Noir.

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

Tag list: @alysrose-starchild, @buginetye, @lookatthestars1, @blackroserelina, @macncheesemonster, @mochinek0, @myazael, @tonicxworld, @thewitchwhowaited, @t1dwarrior-of-earth, @kissa-chan, @iwantasecretidentity, @theymakeupfairies, @user00000003, @woe-is-me0, @kashlyn, @mochegato,@moonlightstar64 , @greatcatblaze, @moongoddesskiana, @tazanna-blythe.

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

(Part 3)

[soulmate-game]

Well, here is the stupid thing I was alluding to. It’s mostly a filler chapter, but yeah.

Harley’s Plea for Help, Chapter 3

“Well, that took a while,” a relatively deep female voice smoothly drawled. The plants placed right next to the window pulled away, no longer blocking the pathway inside. The two figures who were perched right outside the windowsill took the invitation and climbed inside, the shorter of the two looking at the woman who had spoken and smiling widely.

“Auntie Ivy!” Marinette happily exclaimed, making the redhead across from her grin back.

“That’s me. It sure is nice to actually see you in person, little Marigold,” she held out her arms for a hug, which Marinette instantly ran in to accept. “Video calls are never quite enough, are they? You’re so tiny! Are you sure you eat alright?”

“Auntie Ivyyyyyy,” Marinette whined, knowing full well that Ivy was just teasing her.

“So, what took you all so long?” Ivy asked Red Hood, even as she kept her arms wrapped around her soon-to-be daughter in law. “Usually you bats are all about getting back on the streets to punch people, we didn’t think you’d be bringing her in at almost one in the morning.”

Hood shrugged, thumbs hooked in his pockets. “Your little garden fairy nearly gave us the slip. Went straight out the back exit instead of doin’ anything showy like we half expected and we almost missed her.”

“I stopped as soon as I noticed who they were, I swear!” Marinette pulled away from Ivy, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “I didn’t expect Momma to send them to babysit me before our first full day being in Gotham. In hindsight, though, I really should have.”

“Yeah, you should’ve,” Ivy agreed with a smirk, ruffling Marinette’s hair and making her pigtails go a little crooked. “And I know for a fact that you’ve done some stunts off your balcony back in Paris, so at least I know you can be responsible and hold yourself back from doing the same here. Must get that from me, because we both know it doesn’t come from Harley.”

Marinette and Hood both had to laugh at that. Being responsible was definitely not a trait that Marinette could have inherited from anybody in her family tree, that was for sure.

“Are ya makin’ fun of me in front of my daughter?” the comically scandalized voice announced the arrival of one Harley Quinn, who walked into the room in white onesie pajamas with a poker print on them. All of the “joker” cards were crossed out heavily with red sharpie, and a few of them had black-sharpie devil horns and handlebar mustaches vandalizing them. Marinette even caught one such card with a googly eye on it, the matching eye having fallen off and leaving only a small circle of since-dried hot glue where it used to be. “If you guys are gonna be that way, fine! Ivy dyes her hair!”

“No she doesn’t,” Marinette deadpanned, clearly fighting against a giant grin. The corners of her lips gave her away, they never stopped twitching with repressed mirth. “But you do. I got the pictures to prove—- aah!” Harley tackled her daughter to the ground, attacking her with tickles immediately.

“Take it back! My hair is naturally blond!”

“Yeah, naturally— hahahahaha! Sandy blonde! You— hahaha! Have just as much brown— stop I can’t breathe! hahahaha!— as yellow!”

“Hmph,” Harley finally backed off, crossing her eyes and looking away from Marinette with an exaggerated pout. “How dare you reveal my darkest secret?”

“I was a natural redhead even before I got my powers,” was all Ivy had to say, looking all too amused at this turn of events. “Your original costume completely covered your hair.”

“Don’t worry, Harley,” Red Hood butted in, reminding the three girls that he was still here. His tone suggested that he was definitely smiling under his helmet. “We found out about your hair dye years ago.”

“I just cover up the brown parts! It’s not like I’m changin’ much,” she argued before standing up again. “Thanks for gettin’ my cupcake back safely, little birdie. Oh, that's right! I made cupcakes! Hang on, lemme grab one for your trip back!” with that, she span on her heels and ran back further into the apartment. Marinette dashed over to Hood, immediately shoving him to the window.

“Quick, save yourself! Momma can’t bake for her life!” she whispered urgently. “I’ll say you were called away for an emergency, just hurry!”

“It’s not even a lie, getting away from Harley’s baking is an emergency,” Ivy agreed, waving as the vigilante took their advice and fled. It was only three seconds later that Harley slid back into the room, nearly falling due to the feet of her onesie having pretty much zero friction. Her face immediately fell when she saw that her victim was gone, leaving her standing there with a cupcake that was about twice as much frosting as actual cake, covered in sprinkles like a kid’s craft project that was smothered in glitter. The frosting was also shapeless, just heaped on the cake like a half-melted scoop of ice cream. She sighed in despair.

“There goes my chance of giving a bat diabetes. You guys warned him, didn’t ya?”

They both nodded shamelessly. “We’re not that cruel, Harley,” Ivy defended, getting up from her spot on her cushioned armchair and wrapping an arm around her fiance’s waist before she kissed the top of her head gently. “Hood got our little Marigold back safe and sound, and he’s even started a garden at his apartment. He doesn’t deserve to be poisoned by you.”

“I thought you said he got a single cactus at the flea market last month,” Harley deadpanned, making Ivy shrug.

“Might as well be a garden for him, and it’s something he’s not likely to kill so that’s a plus to me. He’s actually taking really good care of the little baby.”

“Speaking of garden!” Marinette gently took the sad excuse of a pastry away from her mom and sat it down on a side table before ushering both of them over to the living room and onto the sofa. “My garden back home is growing so big, I don’t think I can keep everything much longer. I barely have room to walk on the terrace, with all the vines and leaves and branches. Got any ideas of what I can do?”

“Of course! Do you have pictures, Marigold?”

—*—*—*—*—*

Slipping back through her hotel window at six in the morning was risky, since it involved climbing the wall and hoping nobody saw, but her classmates were so unpredictable that it was the only way she could be sure nobody would find out that she had violated curfew and snuck out. Of course, having Red Robin waiting outside her mom’s apartment’s terrace to escort her back helped. At least she knew that no street cams would record her comings or goings, and his grappling hook made the whole scale-the-hotel-wall business much more efficient.

Once she was inside, she sighed happily. “Thanks, now—“ her apology was cut off as Red Robin held up a finger to tell her to wait.

“Hold that thought, be right back. Don’t move.”

Thinking, rightfully, that something was wrong, Marinette obeyed. She watched Red Robin leap off of her hotel balcony and disappear into the streets. Immediately, she began a search to make sure her room had been left untampered— everything important had been packed in the backpack that she had taken to her mom’s place, but still. Could never be too careful. By the time she finished checking for bugs or any signs of snooping, Red Robin landed back on her balcony.

“Here we go.”

Turning to face him, Marinette opened her mouth to ask what the problem had been— only to tear up a little and walk over to the vigilante.

“Oh, my hero. Truly, my one and only savior. Knight in shining red Kevlar. I’m running on two hours of sleep and you have read my mind!” The pigtailed drama queen eagerly took the coffee that he offered her, and he sipped from a larger cup that looked like he had grabbed it from the same place. Marinette almost instantly sighed in gratitude when the hot drink lightly scalded her tongue. This. This was the elixir of life.

To his credit, Red Robin was able to restrain himself to merely an amused smirk. Probably because he was running on just as little sleep as she was. “Sorry it’s only a small, I figured it was best to have something you could finish quickly and easily hide the evidence for. If you need more caffeine, I happen to know that Wayne Enterprises has a very good coffee shop in their main hall. You’ll be touring there today, right?” He asked, taking another sip as he waited for the answer that he already knew.

Marinette nodded absently, drinking in the euphoria of her coffee as she tried to both savor it yet finish it as quickly as safely possible. When she came up for air, she said; “Yeah, that’s right. We’re touring Wayne Enterprises for most of the day, having lunch there, and leaving for dinner after the tour. Then we have a visit to the Gotham Museum of Fine Art, and we’ll stay there until about eight-thirty before heading back to the hotel.”

Red Robin nodded, then turned and looked out the window at the slowly rising sun. Sunrise was always a bit later in Gotham, partly because of the abundance of high-rises and partly because of the thick cloud cover and ever-present fog on the edges of the city making everything seem darker than it should have been. He had to be at work soon himself, which is why he had been chosen to escort her to the hotel in the first place, but that meant that he had to be heading off.

“Alright. We arranged for a bodyguard we trust to keep an eye on your class during the WE tour, but he doesn't know who you are or that we’re the ones who asked. We’re still in the process of arranging someone to shadow you after the tour, but we’ll tell you about that once it’s solidified. Until then, follow the usual self-defense procedures if you suspect anyone of following you. You have the panic button we gave you?”

Marinette nodded, gulping down the last of her coffee and carefully putting it in her room’s tiny trash can. “Got it. Thanks, again. Seriously,” she met his eyes— or, probably did since they were hidden behind that weird white film that the whole Batfam had covering the eyeholes of their masks. “I mean it. For listening to me, for listening to Mom. It means a lot. I’ll keep the panic button on me, and I’ll use it if I think I can’t handle a situation on my own. I’ll cooperate with the people you get to watch over the class, and I’ll do my best to not get into any trouble. No promises, but I’ll do my best,” she maintained eye contact until Red Robin nodded, hiding his expression behind his coffee cup. After a second, he cleared his throat.

“Well then. We’ll contact you once we have anything to say about your intel. Until then, I gotta go. And by the way?”

Marinette tilted her head curiously as Red Robin paused for just a moment on her balcony railing, aiming a smirk back at her. “Yeah?”

“Welcome to Gotham.”

And if she couldn’t help but smile widely as he grappled off into the fog-veiled sunrise? Well, only she had to know. She wasted no time closing and locking the glass balcony door, and pulling the curtains over it completely. Once that was done, she couldn’t help but do a little shimmy of Joy. She was caffeinated, she met Auntie Ivy in person for the first time, she got to sleep next to her momma— and she was in Gotham! Technically her hometown— or town she was conceived in? Didn’t matter. Point was, even with the chaos and dark energy clouding the very air, she couldn’t help but feel like she belonged in that city. Like that was where she was always meant to end up, where she could thrive and the environment that she was made to thrive in. The environment that she was born to start fixing.

She beamed at herself in her bathroom mirror as she gave herself one more once-over. Yeah, so far her visit to Gotham was going much better than she could have hoped. Now, she just had to make sure it stayed that way.

Three businesslike raps sounded against the door to her room, just in time for Marinette to feed Tikki one more cookie and straighten her purse on her shoulder. Madame Mendelieve’s voice called out from the other side of the door in her usual no-nonsense bark;

“Dupain-Cheng! Room check! It’s time to get up, we’re meeting down in the lobby in ten minutes.”

Marinette ran up to the door, not quite able to contain her energy, and swung it open with her trademark large, beaming smile.

“Way ahead of you, Madame Mendelieve!”

Her science teacher blinked, adjusting her glasses on her nose as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

“Ah. You’re already awake and ready?”

Marinette giggled and nodded. “Yup! I was so excited for the tour that I could barely sleep! Does the hotel breakfast include free coffee?”

—*—*—*—*—*

The hotel breakfast did, in fact, include coffee. What it did not include, however, was free coffee that Marinette could reasonably stomach. Especially after the heaven in a cup that Red Robin had gotten for her earlier, the watered down motor oil in the hotel lobby had been unbearable. She had barely managed two sips before regretfully throwing the rest away. Which is what brought her to stand in line at the very same coffee shop that Red Robin had mentioned was in the main hall of Wayne Enterprises, as the rest of her class mingled and waited for their teachers to check their tour group in and their tour guide to arrive.

“Hmm. Sorry, this is my first time ordering here,” she apologized when she reached the counter, gaining a slight lopsided grin from the barista at the register. “Um, I usually like strong coffee, with a lot of caffeine, but I also like something sweet. I don’t need anything too complicated though, do you have any recommendations?”

The barista gave her a customer service smile that seemed just a tad softer at the edges than usual. “Sure! So, we can add an extra shot or two of espresso to any of our drinks, to make it stronger and give it an extra kick. If you’re looking for good sweet flavors, the classics are our white chocolate or caramel. But we also have a seasonal syrup right now that I personally love, which is our cinnamon butterscotch. Did you wanna try that?”

Marinette smiled widely. “That sounds delicious! Then, if I could have your largest size café latte, hot, with… two extra shots and that syrup? Does that sound good?”

The barista actually let loose a soft laugh, already keying in the order. “If you’re a coffee lover and a sweet tooth at the same time, then you’ll love it. If not, come back during your tour’s lunch break and I’ll make you something else.”

Marinette made a little more small talk as she handed over the proper cash for the order, and grabbed her drink after just another minute’s wait. She turned around, taking a sip of the unsurprisingly heavenly coffee and started off to join her class.

Only to realize none of them were where she had left them. She sighed, starting to reach into her purse to see if anyone had texted her about where they were going, but a heavy presence stopped her. She could feel him approaching from in front of her, slightly to her right, but she couldn’t hear him at all. On guard, she straightened up and turned to observe the potential threat.

A security guard. Marinette blinked, running over what she had been told earlier that morning. Was he..?

He seemed to notice her instinctually defensive posture because he raised his hands to show he meant no harm. “Sorry, didn’t mean to catch you off guard,” he apologized. “I’m the guard that was assigned to your tour group. I offered to stay behind until you got your coffee while the rest of your group went ahead and got the run-down on all the boring rules and whatnot of the tour. Figured you’d already know everything they had to say anyway, you’re the class president right?”

Marinette relaxed her posture, nodding and sending the man a relieved smile. “Yeah, that’s right. Well, that explains why they left without me then. Usually Madame Mendelieve is strict about following rules though, how’d you convince her to go on without me?”

The man chuckled, jerking his head to show that she should follow him as he began to lead the way to a side door. Marinette kept her guard up just in case, but wasn’t too worried. If nothing else, she was still in the middle of a super crowded building and the other security guards around didn’t seem concerned. She could easily yell for help if she needed to.

“Well, can’t you tell it was my devilish charm?” He teased, grinning. He waited until she rolled her eyes to continue; “but really, I’m like a second tour guide. She made me show a lotta proof that I’m actually assigned to you guys and not just faking it, not that I can blame her. Eventually she saw the logic in my suggestion and agreed. See, there they are,” he pointed casually ahead of them in the large side hallway they had entered. Sure enough, near the end of the hallway was her class at what looked to be the tail-end of a standard rules-and-guidelines speech from the tour guide. “By the way,” the guard spoke up again, holding his hand out. “My name’s Jason. You’ll be seeing me more often, since I’m supposed to guard you guys for all of your visits to the Tower. Call me if you need help with anything, ‘kay kid?”

Marinette grinned, now positive that this guy really was the guard that Red Robin had said was assigned to her class. She switched the hand she was holding her coffee in so that she could properly grab Jason’s hand for a shake.

“Got it, Monsieur Jason. Let’s both hope I don’t end up needing your help though, I think that would be easier on both of us,” she joked, earning a chuckle from the large man. And— yeah, now that she was relaxed, he really was big, wasn’t he? Then again, Marinette didn’t always realize when people were a bit larger or more buff than they should be. Living with her dad had seriously skewed her perception of the normal size of an adult male (which, she learned when she was seven, most definitely was not almost seven feet tall and muscled enough to make a pro wrestler jealous). But she would like to think she had gotten better in that aspect, and Jason was definitely a big guy. A little over six feet tall, she thought, and though the guard outfit hid a good portion of his physique, she could tell he carried enough muscle to do serious damage if he wanted to.

With a wave, she left him to join her class and sipped at her latte. She had figured that the Bat Clan’s criteria for civilians that they would put to guard her class had to be high, but now she had to wonder just how high. Most police officers or security guards were fit, sure, but not like Jason. Casting a quick glance back at him, she confirmed that he had quite a few faded but visible scars. Again, more than your average officer even for Gotham. Who had they tasked with her class’ safety, exactly?

An elbow in her side distracted her from her thoughts, forcing her to blink and stop her cup from going back to her lips. The grin of none other than Adrien Agreste greeted her when she snapped out of her own head long enough to pay attention to her surroundings. He jerked his head to indicate that the class was already starting to move off.

“Come on, Mari or you’ll get left behind again,” he teased. She grinned back at him, rolling her eyes but falling into step beside him as they followed at the back of their class. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were gonna marry that coffee. You haven’t zoned out that badly in years,” his tone was light and cheery, but Marinette didn’t miss the concern in his emerald eyes. She sighed, gently bumping her shoulders against his in silent reassurance.

“I’m fine. Just didn’t get much sleep last night, that’s all. But this really is good coffee. Elixir of the gods,” then, just to provoke him, she took a giant gulp of the still steaming hot drink. Adrien grimaced in pained sympathy even though Marinette didn’t seem affected at all.

“Oww, Marineeeeeeeeeette,” he whined. “Don’t do that, my throat hurts just watching you guzzle hot coffee like that,” he complained, rubbing at his neck to make his point clear.

“Wimp,” she teased, unrepentant. Adrien just groaned dramatically.

“I’m not a wimp, you’re just concerningly used to burning your throat from the inside out,” he accused. “Anyway, how’d it go?” He was being deliberately vague, but it was obvious to her what he meant. He was only one she had told about visiting her mom, after all, just in case she needed a quick getaway.

In fact, he was the only one of her friends that she had even told about her biological parents. Alix knew too, but only because of time shenanigans. Marinette was fine with it now, but still.

“It went great,” she smiled widely at him, keeping her voice low but casual. “If I have a chance, I’ll introduce you sometime during the trip. I have a feeling you’ll love Auntie Selina, but I have to meet her first. All I have so far are stories.”

“Fair enough,” Adrien agreed easily. “But you don’t have to, you know that right? I’d love to meet your family, but I’m also fine just being your pseudo-brother like I have been up until now. I know it might be a bit… uncomfortable, for you.”

“Nah,” Marinette shrugged. “Nerve wracking, maybe. But that’s also about half the things that I do in my life period, anxiety is no joke. I’ll catastrophize for a while, but I know you’ll love them and they’ll love you.”

“Sounds like they have paw-some taste,” he didn’t even miss a beat with his puns, earning a playful glare for his efforts.

“Never mind. You’re a heathen. Disowned. Who are you?”

“Mariiiiii,” he whined, causing them both to laugh for a while before focusing on the tour.

So far, so good, Marinette thought.

—*—*—*—*—*

Part 1 Part 2

@emotionalsupportginger @alysrose-starchild @emistar0 @kibastray @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @alyssadeliv @blackroserelina @blackstarlight-co @readingalldaysleepingallnight @maanae @aespades @jaybird-and-co @fleursroses @probably-a-hologram @misterpianoman @deathssilentapproach-blog @user00000003 @frieddonutsweets @blur-of-colours @prettylittlebutterflie @ladyqnoirr @a-star-with-a-human-name @mizzy-pop @laurcad123 @dorkus-minimus @chocolatecatstheron @tazanna-blythe @golden-promises @literaryhiraeth @asrainterstellar @hewantedbeefintheparkinglot @miraculous-trinity-leo @missanalysis @lovelyautumnsunflower @lolieg @ann0631 @whitetiger1249 @meow-now @toodaloo-kangaroo

[stygeanbluebasilsprout]

Queued

This is a fictional story, I apologize because I didn't realize how the first paragraphs sounded without context. I am perfectly fine. Please reblog this version and enjoy!

Let me preface this by clarifying a thing. If you're reading this, I'm already dead. I'll queue this for tomorrow morning, and if nothing happens I'll take this down. If you're seeing this on your dash, it means I'm gone. If I can return... Idk, maybe I'll write a more detailed post with the answers to all of this, maybe y'all could just carry on like nothing happened. Maybe this post will not exist anymore and there is no need to tell you what I would do.

That being said, if I will have to say goodbye, the least I could do is doing it with style. 

My name is Norman. All of you will already know me by my url, or maybe the pfp. "Look, it's trans Charizard again. What will he have to say this time". Mostly shitpost, alright? I didn't log in expecting to become a great artist. Sometimes, however, I liked to cut out a little scrap from my life and show it to you.

I started when my new life started. When I finally managed to get away from the horrible claws of my family and I settled in this little apartment. It was a small place, tucked away between the trees, where birds were more loud than traffic. 

All things considered, it has been nice to get it without having to pluck out my eye to pay rent. It was crammed, yes, but at the time I didn't even have a bed. It was enough.

So, as my loyal followers may already know, life here was... peculiar. 

It wasn't anything outright weird, more like little unsettling details, details on which the eye glided until they got caught, and once the eye caught them it couldn't let them go.

Typing them on here, in hindsight, makes me feel dumb, like if I was some horror movie dipshit that wouldn't move out of a clearly haunted house, trapped in his certainty that "GhOsTs ArEn'T rEaL" despite the furniture floating past him.

In my defense, my furniture didn't float. At least, I never saw it doing so. 

There have been misplaced objects, though. A glass that got knocked over, a book I was sure I had put a bookmark in, my Waddles (yes, the Gravity Falls pig. Sue me) plushie popping up from the strangest places, like when I found it in the pantry, behind the pasta. 

It was the least tbh.

Misplaced objects... they could be attributed to my ADHD. I came to terms with the fact that my things never seemed to stay where I put them when I was, like, six. After a while it sort of became a bit, in our family. So it wasn't exactly news. Even if Waddles in the pantry was a bit too much even for me. But hey, everyone lost track of their stuff sometimes, if they weren’t paying attention.

And, as I said before, it was the least. I mean, you saw my posts. At first I joked a bit about these teleportations, along the lines of "haha, look, my plushie loves pasta sooo much!". But, like, everyone who owns a cat knows that teleport is not impossible. "Yeah yeah, things that change places when they shouldn't, we've all seen it". Issues started coming after a few weeks.

At first, it was the golden leaves. I already said that my house was in the middle of the woods, right?

Well, it was around last April when they started making their appearance. I challenge everybody, everybody, to see a threat in a shiny, little golden leaf placed on the window sill.

They were really cool, by the way. Not even a little bit scary. Annoying, for sure. But not scary.

They made me curse every ancient god that watched over this Earth, though. I wouldn't get surprised if Cthulhu came knocking at my door asking why I was calling for them. For it was enough to leave the door a tiny tiny bit ajar for a freaking MOUNTAIN of leaves to make their entrance.

They defied physics. How the hell a metric fuck you of leaves could have come inside through an opening of an inch (measured) in less than half a minute is beyond me. But at least, broom and patience, and I swatted them away.

Now, I admit that maybe it was my fault, because if a normal person gets ATTACKED by leaves their first reaction is to find the tree those leaves come from.

It never crossed my mind, I swear. Not even when they started exploding.

Okay, maybe exploding is a bit of an overstatement. It's not like they went KABOOM and set things on fire.

It was just that as soon as I grazed them, even by blowing on them, puf! They turned into a little cloud of golden dust. And that mother-effing dust stuck! It didn't go away! Soon all my belongings were golden-leaf-dust-coated. I had a glittering house.

And if your first reaction is "Norman, normal leaves don't act that way" well, whoever you are, you may be an amateur botanist, but I know jack shit about trees. I wasn't gonna bother my landlord for a couple of leaves. It was my very first place of my own, I wasn't gonna act like a whiny baby. I think it would have solved a lot of problems, though.

Because then, around the middle of this January, it was the stains' turn. The streaks, the markings.

They started appearing in little spots, like little droplets of something. I didn't thought much of them, it was an old house in the middle of the woods, of course there would have been dirt here and there.

I found the first concerning one on the couch. It was a big, rough brown stain vaguely resembling a heart. Not a "❤" sort of heart, an anatomically correct heart with atriums and all. It had even the veins on it. It was a bit disturbing, I admit it. Maybe, a flying chair would have been a less noticeable warning.

However, it probably was just a Rorschach-like effect. Y'know, the test with the stains. It was just a puddle, but I thought it looked a bit like a heart and therefore was an anatomically-correct-heart-shaped puddle.

It was not the only rough brown stain I found. They didn't really bothered me, because, unlike that goddamned dust, they went away on their own. I had to clean off only the most visible ones. They just. Appeared. On the windows, the ceiling, at the bottom of the walls and on the floor, in the kitchen, on the mirrors, on my blankets, my clothes, even on the back of my binder. I felt a bit sorry when those disappeared, because they resembled two little bat wings.

If you followed me at the time, I'm sure you remember those pictures. How could you not? Some of them went viral, my notifications never recovered. I think that the rose on my bedsheets got reblogged by a heritage posts blog, like the "is this dress blue and black or white and gold?" meme.

By this point you are probably thinking "But Norman, at this point you must have noticed that something was wrong. Dirt doesn't appear and disappear, and it doesn't come in elaborate shapes." And you're right. I noticed that it was not right. I may be a skeptic, but until a certain point. But I'm not a moron. Except I was. Because it was just dirt. Dirt that came in beautiful patterns and went away on its own and it didn't bother me. So I pretended that everything was fine, it was normal, nothing was going on.

I am really, really a moron.

Because what happened next made me realize it was not dirt.

It was blood.

I... don't think I've ever posted the handprints on here. The heart, the rose, those little spots that looked like a constellation were all meant to get a laugh out of who saw them. Somebody even accused me of creating them myself, which, dear rando, thank you. It wasn't me. I can’t draw shit.

Handprints smeared on my kitchen were NOT, I repeat, NOT my doing. Why the fuck should I do such a thing? They were creepy as fuck, and I immediately got a hold of soap and sponge. The point is, they reappeared every time. I cleaned the glass panel, and the next morning I found two, if not more, different handprints.

Once there was one that had nothing better to do than flipping me off.

Very funny.

At a certain point I just gave up. The patterns always went away by themselves, I could suck it up and endure a "fuck you" by a stain on my window for a while.

Wrong. The second evening after my last attempt, at the start of September, they chose to up their game. Under my eyes, the substance they were made of slowly became dark crimson and wet and started dripping. I yelled and fell backwards, crashing over the table.

Quivering, I slowly crawled away from the window. I felt something wet on my fingertips, I must have hit my elbow in the fall. Instead of any kind of pain, it was disgust that clawed at my stomach. As I watched the trickle of blood on my forearm the memory of all the shapes came to mind and realization hit.

I've slept between those blankets, dammit!

I reached the sink and said goodbye to my breakfast. When my head stopped spinning, I grabbed soap and a rag and, in record time, cleaned off that nightmare from my glass.

Too bad that the nightmare just started.

This was the only place I had. I couldn't pack and just go. I should've done it, but I couldn't.

However, it was now time to bother my landlord. The sweet old lady that I talked to over the phone assured me she would come as soon as she could.

As soon as she could was a week later. That week was a nightmare. I tried to stay away from the house as long as I could. But I always had to sleep somewhere. And those nights... I don't want to talk about those nights. I was curled under my blankets, trembling and sobbing. Apparently, the 'dirt' stains now always came in liquid form. And I always woke up covered in golden glitter and red trickles, despite having a sheet all over me. Use your imagination.

When I finally greeted the sweet granny, I was in tatters. And glittering. As I said, the dried blood went away, the dust stuck.

For her, a single glance around was enough. She pursed her lips, and nodded solemnly. And told me that to solve this I had to leave something sweet as an offering, in the woods. Something like a cake, bread, cream, sugar, milk and honey.

Milk. And honey.

Are you FUCKING kidding me.

Apparently not, she was not kidding me. She looked extremely serious. And so I though, why not give it a shot? And after she left me I took a bowl, I filled it with milk and honey, and walked until I could find a good spot between the trees, where I left it.

The next morning I woke up unscathered. And when I went checking, the bowl was just shiny clean. Not even a drop.

So, a bowl of milk and honey in exchange for a night of peaceful sleep. And a clean house.

Poor fool that I was, I thought it could work.

This was three weeks ago. And, of those three weeks, just the first few days the milk worked. Because then, They wanted more.

Milk and honey, but with a spoonful of sugar. Slices of white, soft bread with butter and sugar. Mugs of coffee creamer and honey. Little cakes, like tarties and plumcakes. Sweets. Peppermints and toffee. And so forth.

Always more, always more.

And if the quota wasn't met, the blood returned. And the dust. And the misplaced stuff. And, between the trunks and branches, I could see lights dancing and hear soft laughter and singing, asking for more. More, more. More.

They just don't want to leave me alone. I can’t keep on living like this. I made my decision. I typed on here all of this story. So, now you all know. I have a kitchen knife shining next to me. Must sound more gutsy that it really is, but tonight I'm gonna march in the woods and make Them leave me alone.

It sounds so brave. But I'm not. I'm crying and shaking. My fingers can't stay still. There are tears on my laptop. I'm gonna die.

But anger is stronger. I-I will try to make Them stop. To make Them let me live my life. If it won't work, at the top of this story I left all you need to know. If things work out... I dunno. An update, maybe? A whole different story, maybe.

But now the story queued is this.

So, thank you, to all of my mutuals, for the time spent on this blue hell. I love all of you.

Goodbye

Norman

[mochegato]

Calling Dibs

This day was going to be boring, Jason knew that before he agreed to the trip in the first place.  ‘Agreed’ is a generous term.  ‘Relented’ might be a better term. Regardless, he was in Paris for the next week.  He was looking forward to the Louvre and seeing Notre Dame, but he was expected to spend time with his family for a large part of the trip and end with a branch opening party, because those are always so much fun.

He had barely plopped onto the hotel couch when something went flying past the building, crashing into the building down the street in a cacophony of shattered glass and warped metal.  “Holy shit!” Jason yelled, jumping up and running to the window to assess the situation.  The family looked to each other to see if anyone had a better grasp of the situation. Everyone shared the same confounded expression, before running out on the balcony to check out the situation.  

Bruce sighed.  This was most definitely not part of the plans.  This was supposed to be a relaxing week with the family looking at art for Damian, going up in the Eiffel Tower (and preventing him from jumping off) for Duke, sampling French foods and checking out French fashion for Steph, exploring the catacombs for Tim, attending the ballet for Cass, visiting Notre Dame for Jason, and time together as a family for Dick, with just a side of meetings for him.  Superheroing was not one of the scheduled activities.

Bruce opened his mouth to state a plan, but before the words made it past his lips, blurs of red and black swung past them toward the creature that had destroyed the building.  It took more than a few minutes for him to finally close his mouth in a resolute line as they watched the two heroes fight.  Jason’s mouth stayed open in awe as he watched the red figure expertly dodge and strike the creature.  It stayed open until the creature backhanded the red hero into a wall of the building across the street.  

The group flinched in sympathy at the sight, all too familiar with the feeling of getting smashed into a building.  She fell to the ground in a crouch.  Instead of fear, she looked back up with a glare. She jumped away and landed next to her partner in black and seemed to have a conversation before separating. The black hero distracted the creature while she swung further away.  It almost seemed like she had run away until they saw her charge at the creature from the side, hitting circles that decorated its body, shattering them like mirrors as she went.  With each hit the creature seemed to deflate more, until she hit the last one, a black butterfly emerging from it.  

She captured it in her yoyo and released it almost instantly as a white butterfly.  She called something out and threw her yoyo up into the air.  As soon as she did, a pinkish red wave rushed across the city and suddenly all the damage they had watched with their own eyes, was reset to its previous condition.  

They stared, mouths agape again, trying to take in everything they saw.  Finally the silence was broken by Jason.  “I call dibs!”

“What!” Dick exclaimed.  “You can’t just call dibs on someone.”

“I just did,” Jason scoffed.  “I call dibs on the red badass.  You can have the cat one.  Follow B’s footsteps, protégé.”

“You don’t even know if she’s straight.  What if she’s into girls?” Stephanie objected. “Maybe they both are.”

Jason stared at her for a second before his eyes narrowed.  “Fine. But if she’s anything other than a lesbian or ace, I have dibs.  And the cat one is up for grabs.”

“Oh, I’ll grab,” Steph smirked.

“Fine, whatever,” Dick groused, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away.  “Wasn’t looking for romance this trip anyway.”

“Your libido is not the priority right now. Father, did you bring us here for this?” Damian demanded.

Bruce kept his eyes on the spot where the creature had been a few seconds earlier before turning into a distraught woman. “No, I had no idea.  But now that we know, let’s investigate.  We’ll find out as much as we can from outside sources and try to meet up with the heroes when we can.  If they have a regular patrol, we can try to meet them somewhere. If they don’t, we might have to try to show up discretely at the next attack.”  He observed the people below already returning to their normal jobs. “It doesn’t seem like this is too out of the ordinary for everyone, so I don’t think we’ll have to wait long.”

He wasn’t wrong.  In fact, they only had to wait until the next night for another akuma to strike.  As soon as the akuma was dealt with, they caught up with the Parisian heroes, though in hindsight, they perhaps should have announced their presence a bit more clearly, judging by the way Red Hood was hanging upside down off the side of the building they were on.

“Sorry again,” Ladybug grimaced as she helped pull him back onto the roof.

“No, we shouldn’t have snuck up on you,” Red Hood assured her.  “I was just struck too speechless by you to give you a better warning.”

Ladybug blinked at him a few times before turning to the rest of the group and motioning toward Red Hood helplessly. Chat gave her an amused smile. “She tends to have that effect even on the best of us.”

“As Red Hood said, we should have announced our presence more plainly.  We likely would have reacted the same if you had snuck up on one of us,” Batman said, taking a step forward.

“We just wouldn’t have looked as kick ass doing it,” Red Hood added, leaning toward Ladybug.

Ladybug raised an eyebrow at him, but allowed him to move closer to her.  “Well, you certainly didn’t look ‘kick ass’ falling like that,” she smirked at him.

“I’ll work on how I look when falling, then.  I have a feeling I’m going to be falling a lot for you.”

Ladybug narrowed her eyes at him and puckered her lips in an unsuccessful effort to keep them from quirking up.  Red Hood’s chest puffed up almost imperceptibly at the sight.  Ladybug’s eyes darted over to Batman and back to him.  “First, I don’t think you came all the way to Paris just to hit on me.  I believe we have other things to talk about. Second, if you’re going to hit on someone, take off the helmet.  It’s rude. I can’t read your expressions at all. It puts me at a disadvantage.”

Red Hood quirked his head to the side. “Can’t take the helmet off. Secret identity, you know?  B would kill me.  If he didn’t the squirt there,” he motioned toward Robin, “would try. But trust me, if you saw my face, you’d swoon.  And I assure you, I would have come all the way to Paris if I’d known you were here waiting.”

“But we didn’t know you were here,” Batman cut in harshly.  He placed a hand on Red Hood’s shoulder and pulled him back with the others.  “We were unaware there was a supervillain in Paris. We’d like to offer assistance, ours and the Justice League’s, but first we should introduce ourselves.  I’m Batman.  That’s Spoiler, Black Bat, Signal, Robin, Red Robin, Nightwing,” he motioned to each of them in turn as he said their name.  “And you’ve met Red Hood.”

Ladybug and Chat nodded to each of them as Batman said their names.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you all.  I’m Ladybug. This is my partner Chat Noir.”

“Sorry, we didn’t bring our full team.  We would have if we’d known there was going to be a party,” Chat smiled disarmingly.

“We’ll be sure to let you know next time,” Spoiler grinned back at him.

“Can we sit down with you sometime to discuss the situation?” Red Robin interrupted whatever Chat was about to respond with. “It doesn’t have to be tonight, but we weren’t planning on staying in town too much longer.  Not that we haven’t been enjoying our time here.  And we’ve definitely enjoyed watching you work. You have got some really good moves.”

“Oi,” Jason interrupted, smacking him in the shoulder.  “I called dibs.”

“Dibs?” Ladybug quirked her head to the side and scrunched up her nose in such an adorable way Jason let out an almost inaudible choke.  Quiet enough that only Red Robin, letting out an almost as silent scoff, and Chat Noir, with his enhanced hearing, heard him.  Chat zeroed in on him with a knowing smirk.  He rested his arm on his baton and got into a comfortable position leaning against it, waiting for the entertainment.  “What is ‘dibs’?” Ladybug continued, oblivious to the dynamic between the three.

Chat’s smirk grew.  “Dibs, M’lady, is when you claim first rights to do something.”

Ladybug stared at him for a few seconds as she put together what he was implying.  Her head whipped around to Red Hood.  Her face was furrowed in an offended scowl.  She pointed to herself.  “Am I the thing you’re going to do first?”

Jason jerked back at the suggestion as Chat Noir and the rest of his family, sans Batman and Robin, started laughing.  “No! No, no, no.  No. Not… No.”  He waved his arms desperately.  “Not that.  I…”  He took a breath and glared at his family to get them to shut up, expecting them to know he was glaring harshly under his helmet.  “I just get to be the first to try to impress you.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes.  “You want to impress me?  Do something impressive.  And I don’t date as a superhero, so you’re going to have to impress civilian me. Good luck with that.”

Chat gave Red Hood a patronizing grin.  “You’re going to need it,” he singsonged.  He looked back and forth between Ladybug and Red Hood a few times, his eyes sparkling with mischief.  He swung his baton over his shoulders and rested his arms over it.  “But then again, she is the embodiment of luck so, maybe she just gave it to you.”

Ladybug’s head whipped back to him and she narrowed her eyes at him in warning.  He smiled innocently back at her as if he hadn’t just been meddling in her love life… again.  He needed to meddle in his own instead.  Although, with the way Spoiler kept eying him, maybe it was already taken care of. “Anyway,” she said loudly, bringing the focus back to the topic at hand.  “Tonight isn’t good.  We both have early mornings tomorrow.  But tomorrow night should work.  How about meeting here tomorrow at 22h?”

“Okay, now that that is settled, I have a very important question,” Spoiler spoke up.  Signal groaned next to her, preparing for whatever her question was going to be.  “Where is the best place to get some French treats?” Batman let out a deep sigh. “What!  I came to France to eat amazing French food and shop French fashion. They live here.  They should know the good places to go.”

Chat straightened up immediately and sent Ladybug a feral grin.  “You don’t say…”

“Chat,” Ladybug hissed warningly.

“They’re just asking for advice,” he answered in his most exaggeratedly innocent voice he could muster.  “You wouldn’t want to deprive them of the best food in Paris. Would you, M’lady?”  The devilish grin in his eyes was a complete contrast to the innocent voice.  He turned back to the bats, the picture of politeness.  “The absolute best place to get pastries in Paris is Tom and Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie on Rue Gotlib.  It’s amazing.  I recommend trying… everything.  And it just so happens their daughter is one of the most amazing designers in… anywhere.”

Spoiler grinned at him.  “A man after my own heart.  Thanks, Kitty Cat.  I’ll take that under advisement.  And do you also frequent there?”  

Chat blushed slightly and looked away quickly, but not before Ladybug saw the reaction and smirked at him.  “Yes, he does,” she assured Spoiler.  “He frequently frequents there.”

“And what about you?” Red Hood interjected, leaning toward Ladybug again, much to Batman’s chagrin.

“Are you kidding?  She’s the reason I found it in the first place.  I swear she’s there daily,” Chat grinned.

“Ooh, Kitty Cat, you sure know the way to a girl’s heart,” Spoiler purred at him.  Chat’s cheeks burned red, but didn’t look away from her this time.

Ladybug pursed her lips in annoyance at his romantic interference but quickly smoothed out at the sight of his blush.  A smile was back on her face when she turned back to the Bats, eyes lingering a bit longer on Red Hood before moving to Batman. “Anyway, we will see you again tomorrow. But Chat, maybe you should get an idea of what Spoiler likes so you can bring treats for her to the meeting tomorrow.  I have to go though.”  She waved at the bats before turning to Chat with a wink.  “Have a good night.”

Red Hood stepped forward before she jumped away. “You don’t want to know what I like for tomorrow?” he asked huskily.

She looked up at him with a sultry smirk.  “Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea of what you like.  Sweet dreams.”

Red Hood watched her jump away.  “Oh they will be,” he whispered to himself.

<><><><><> 

Marinette had been apprehensive all morning.  Every time the bell above the door rung, she braced for the bats.  She let out a relieved breath as a man walked in by himself.  She wasn’t positive, but she was pretty sure the group would come in together.  She wasn’t sure why she knew that, but somehow she was confident of it.  The man blinked a few times at her before smiling charmingly at her.

And damn if that smile couldn’t melt ice.  She let out another breath, this one to calm her cheeks.  She smiled at him, warmer than her regular customer service smile.  “Can I help you, monsieur?”

“Do you, by any chance, have a bowl or something I can put some water in?” he asked awkwardly in barely accented French.  The cocked head and curious look Marinette gave him prompted him to continue.  “I wanted to… there’s this stray dog outside and he looks like he needs some water.”

American, she noted… with dimensions roughly matching Red Hood’s.  And oh God, those muscles weren’t just the suit.  Well fuck.  Guess she did give him some luck after all.  “Of course he’s fucking Adonis hot,” she muttered under her breath, but apparently not quietly enough.  He smirked at her and chuckled.

Marinette’s eyes snapped up to him and she blushed furiously at having gotten caught.  She took a deep breath and smiled back at him.  “Blonde with a dark stripe down his back?”  He nodded at her, a surprised look on his face.  “That’s Éclair.  He’s a local stray.  An absolute sweetheart.  Here, let me get the bowl I usually use for him.”  She rushed to the back and came back with a filled dog bowl and some pancetta. “Can you give him this too, please?  I usually do, but I’ve been stuck inside most of the morning.”

He gave her another ice meltingly brilliant smile and nodded in thanks.

She tensed at the next man who walked in, not really knowing why she was apprehensive.  Red Hood was already there.  She gave him her customer service smile even as her eyes darted out the window to watch Red Hood feeding Éclair.  She could imagine the hearty laugh he let out when Éclair leaped up to lick his face.  She smiled at the sight.  

“Excuse me,” the man stepped into her line of sight.

She immediately turned to focus on him, regretfully tearing her eyes away from Red Hood and Éclair.  “Yes, monsieur.  Sorry about that.  How can I help you?”

The man looked her up and down and leaned toward her. “I was looking for something sweet. Maybe you could help me.”

She cringed internally, but gave him a strained smile as she leaned away.  “Of course, sir.  We have a lot of sweet treats.  Maybe you can look over the petit fours, éclairs, macarons, and tartlets.  Let me know if you have any questions.”

“I have a question already,” the man gave her a leering smile.  “Are any of the treats as sweet as you?”

She gave him a flat look and took a step back. She almost missed the door chime ringing.  “I assure you, monsieur, you would find me far from sweet. Let me know when you’re ready to order.” She turned away and started wiping the counter instead.

Red Hood took the opportunity to step up to her and pass the bowl back to her.  “Thank you. He looked very happy after the treats.”

Marinette blinked at him a few times and looked down at the bowl unmoving for a few seconds before the reason clicked for her. “Right,” she answered, louder than she meant to, as she took the bowl.  “Can I get you anything?”

“What do you recommend?” he asked as he moved to block the other man’s line of sight to her.

She smiled appreciatively at him.  Maybe he was impressive after all.  “You looking for something sweet or savory?  We have great bread, but if you’re looking for a treat, I would recommend an assortment of eclairs.  It just seems apropos.  Honestly, I think it’s all good, but I’m a bit biased.” She leaned in as if confiding a secret and winked at him.  

He chuckled and nodded.  “That is definitely something to consider.”  He side eyed the other man in the store.  “I’ll take a look around I think.  Figure out what it is I want.”

Marinette nodded and gave him an understanding smile. She turned to the other man.  “Have you decided, monsieur?”

The man made a show of looking around.  “Are you on the menu?  Because I definitely know what I’m interested in,” the man answered, leering at her again.

Marinette gave the man a flat look.  It was not the first time she’d heard the line.  She didn’t get it as much as waitresses, but still, it was a tired line… from a married man… that she had already turned down. “No, sir.  I’m not on the menu,” she answered curtly, “because we are not a brothel, which are illegal in Paris, I might add.  However, a quick internet search will direct you to the areas of the city where you can find that kind of menu items.  If you would like one of the pastries, please let me know which ones you would like, otherwise, please leave.”

“I’m not good enough for you, but you’ll flirt with him,” he motioned toward civilian Red Hood.

“First, I get to choose who I’m interested in and that isn’t you.  Second, he,” she motioned toward civilian Red Hood, “called dibs on flirting with me.  Now either order or leave.”

The man huffed and left, trying to slam the door on the way out.  The door closed with a gentle thud.  Marinette rolled her eyes.  “Sorry about that, monsieur.  Are you ready to order?”  She sent him an apologetic smile.

Jason stared at her for a few beats trying to figure out if her previous words meant anything.  She could have just said that because the guy was an asshole.  It could be a coincidence.  And her partner could have sent him here purely because they had really good food.  “Oh, um… what do you recommend I take?” he asked again absentmindedly, his mind still on how likely it was that it was all a coincidence.

Marinette smiled innocently at him.  “Me out.”

Jason looked at her wide eyed.  “What?”

“You asked what I recommended you take.  I recommend you take me out,” she shrugged nonchalantly, but the grin was devilish.

Jason opened his mouth and closed it again. “Any other day, beautiful.  Any other day I’d say yes, but I’m kind of working on someone else and I’m a one woman man.”

Marinette looked at him for a few seconds, a brilliant smile beaming at his response.  

“Thanks for helping out, Sweetie,” her mom called coming from the back room.  “I think we have it covered now.  Oh,” she looked up at Jason, then at Marinette’s smile, and back to Jason. She smirked at the two.  “I think you should be able to take off now, get to your real job.”

Marinette nodded and took her apron off, stowing it under the counter.  “Thanks, Maman.” She leaned up and kissed her cheek before making her way around the counter. Jason turned to her as she walked out, watching her as she moved.  She paused a few feet in front of him.  “I have to admit, you impressed me after all.”  

She smiled sweetly at him before moving to the door.  She turned back at the last second, twirling to face him.  “But you flirted much better with the helmet.”  She winked at him and disappeared through the door.

Her mom chuckled before clearing her throat. “Anything I can help you with, dear?”

Jason turned to her blankly, still processing what Marinette had said, after a second he smiled and rushed to the door.  “No, thank you ma’am.  I have some dibs to collect on.”

Tags:

@jasonette-july-event @maribatserver

[bonny-kookoo]

Tiny Treasure Shorts: Bunny Tantrum ❤️☁️

Paining: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, hybrid!AU, hybrid!Reader, human!Jungkook

Tags/warnings: Kookers be ignoring his bunny, bits of angst, bunny has thoughts about him not wanting her anymore bless her heart, thumping, bunny behavior, kook be kinda dense ngl, god he’s frustrating, thoughts of abandonment, but nothing drastic lol

Summary: it’s one thing to have friends over. It’s another to ignore your little bunny when she’s right there. And it’s a huge thing to not even realize what you did wrong.

You like to think of yourself as not too clingy.

Of course, since he's your owner and you love him lots, you want to be close to him at all times if that was possible- but you also had a human brain, and common sense. Of course there were times you had to be alone. For example; whenever he's working, you always make sure to stay extra quiet. He needs to concentrate after all- so if you ever visit him in his makeshift office in his apartment, you tend to simply take a nap; the almost rhythmic typing sounds and gentle sighs here and there providing the perfect lullaby for you.

Jungkook likes to have you close during other times, however.

He has stated numerous times again and again that he would never think of you as clingy or that you were getting onto his nerves; more like the opposite. He enjoys having you follow him around the house, noticing how you watch him play video games, or have him talk to you about the most mundane of things. With Jungkook it never mattered if the conversation was deep and meaningful or not- simply exchanging some food for thought was enough.

And of course, he liked to keep you very close throughout the nights.

Now, at first, he had been a little worried. He's anything but a calm sleeper- he moves a lot and due to the size difference between the two of you, he was simply scared to roll you over at night. But eventually, the two of you had found a solution to it that satisfied you both equally. If he held you close during his sleep, he was less prone to shift and turn around as much. And at the same time, you got to cuddle him while sleeping. A win-win situation, really.

So why were you mad right now?

Well it was perfectly fine that he had his friends over. You understood that this was a rare occurance, and that you had only little to really input into the current game of CS:GO- hell, you barely learned the game mechanics yet. And it was fine that he only conversed with them, even after hours had passed.

What didn't sit right with you however was, when he had dismissed you when you had asked if you could go outside to get some snacks from the nearby grocery shop. It would've been okay if he had simply told you no. But that's not what he did; instead, he had waved you off like a bug flying too close to his face.

It felt demeaning, in a way. And it upset you.

And the worst was only to come. Because, naive as you were, you had at least thought that someone if not Jungkook himself would've heard you closing the bedroom door a little louder than usual.

But no one came. And you knew, in a way, the thoughts of him maybe really having gotten tired of your presence were nonsense; you knew for a fact that Jungkook loved you dearly. But that didn't help at all. Already, your brain had come up with scenes of you packing your bags, going back to Taehyungs place just to eventually occupy your old room at the shelter. It made your eyes sting- but you simple pulled your ears over them, as if to force yourself to shut them off.

Only after hours of you laying alone in the bedroom did Jungkook eventually join you in bed. As if nothing was off, he attempted to wrap his arms around you; but he got a reaction he never would've thought he'd get from you.

You pulled in your leg a little, just to kick out with a power that could only be described as anger. You were upset with him- visibly so. "Bunny?" He asked, genuinely confused by your behavior as he leaned over a little to catch a glimpse of your face. But you kicked out again, suddenly standing up before grabbing your blanket, and walking out towards the couch in the living room. It wouldn't provide a good nights rest- the couch way too drowned in too many scents by now, but it would do. You didn't want to be close to Jungkook right now, no matter the cost. "Bunny, no, whats wrong?" He asked, a slight whine to his voice as he squatted down close to your sitting form- your face turned away from him as your arms were crossed; entire body language showing him your stance of defense. "Can you tell me what's wrong?" He asks, and you huff. "Did I do something?" He dares to ask, and your foot hits the ground forcefully.

If you weren't so goddamn angry at him, he would've actually found the action cute.

"What did I do?" He asks, and again, your foot thumps the ground- tiny bunny tail wiggling in frustration as your ears are turned backwards. You're still not looking at him. "Bunny baby if you don't talk to me I can't-" He starts, but you don't let him finish.

"Oh, so now you want me to talk to you?" You ask bitterly, glossy eyes meeting his widely opened ones, and he genuinely hurts seeing the state you're in. You're clearly upset- and he really doesn't know what happened. "You didn't want my attention the entire day- so why now when everyone's gone? Am I like.. just a place-holder so you don't feel lonely?" You say, your voice breaking at the end because for some reason, saying it out loud actually makes you think about it more deeply. Because it seemed to actually make sense to you. Why else would he ignore you when his friends were over- but give his attention to you when you were alone with him? Were you just a toy for him?

"Baby no, no no no." He rambles out, and groans, as things suddenly click inside his brain. In hindsight he suddenly thinks about his actions more clearly- it makes sense that you're this distressed. After all, the way he had simply dismissed you like a fly unwanted had been uncalled for and absolutely stupid on his side. "I'm so sorry- I didn't mean to do that.." He states, a whine now clearly lacing his voice as you still huff only in frustration, a single kick to the floor showing that you were maybe calming down- but still not okay with his behavior. "Bunny baby.. don't be mad please.." He softly begs, kneeling in front of you so he can rest his hands on your knees- his chin on top of them to catch a glimpse of your face.

"Do you even want me here.?" You softly ask, almost scared of his honest answer. This time he doesn't reply right away- but stands up, to sit on the couch next to you. He pulls you close, uncaring that your leg kicks out, an annoyed whimper escaping you. He holds you tightly however, rubbing his nose over the skin from the side of your jaw down to your shoulder. The affectionate gesture soothes you immensly- and you hate your stupid instincts for doing that to you.

"I'll always want you." He says, voice nowhere near playful or whiny. He's honest, raw, and wants you to understand him. "You're my.. everything. What I did was uncalled for- and I'm truly sorry." He states. "I know it doesn't justify my actions, but this is all still super new to me too.. I'm not used to having someone around twenty-four-seven." He says. "And before you say anything, no, I WANT you close. I want you around all the time." He squeezes you a little tighter once he notices you relax in his arms. "I'm so grateful you're here. I'll better myself. Promise." He says, and you nod after a while, turning in his embrace.

"Koo?" You question tiredly, and he hums a reply. You close your eyes and lean your head on his shoulder as you speak your next words. "I'm tired." You say.

He chuckles. "Let's go to bed then?" He questions, and you nod.

"Will you make me pancake for breakfast?" You ask, as he picks you up, blanket and all, to carry you back into the bedroom.

"Anything you want, Bunny." He says, laying you down onto the mattress before climbing in as well, arms around your form as he sighs. "Anything you want.

[sparks-joy-imagines]

Heya! How are you guys doing tonight?

Can i request a Zoro x Vinsmoke!Reader? (where the reader is Sanji’s sister) Where Zoro is struggling to confess his feelings for her and anytime he tries Sanji barges into the room since he knows the mossball likes his sister and is doing everything he can to stop it?

sorry if that request is confusing! Thanks!

Hey lovely! I hope you had something like this in mind~ Did Zoro actually ever call Sanji by his name? I actually had to look up Sanji's nicknames cause I never pay attention to them (shame on me OTL) Hope you can enjoy it dear 😘 - mesu.

Roronoa Zoro x Vinsmoke!reader

Zoro was pissed. And rightfully so in his opinion. Not that it had taken him the better half of a month to finally admit to himself that he had feelings for you. No. It seemed the moment he had built up the courage to confess to you - yes, even the pirate hunter had to work up his guts to confess to very possibly the love of his life - Curly Brows had caught wind of his intentions.

Sure enough, the cook had warned every single man on board to stay the heck away from his darling sister when you decided to stick around for a while. Back then Zoro hadn’t paid much attention since he simply didn’t care all that much. You were pleasant enough company and that’s it, or so he thought.

In hindsight, he should have known how your vibes would affect him. You were the most stunning and fun person he had ever met and for once he didn’t mind you sticking around when he trained or when you sat next to him when he napped while secretly listening to the crew’s antics. In fact, he was more bothered by you not being around than when you were by now.

But whenever he tried to tell you exactly this, your brother appeared out of thin air. Zoro was certain Curly Brows had a sixth sense for when you were alone with him, so that he could barge in with refreshments, a new parfait he had to get your expert opinion on or simply what you wanted to eat for lunch. Anything really to stop Zoro from actually having a conversation with you. It really seemed like a lost cause. Zoro sighed deeply, something he caught himself doing more and more often lately, when something hit his head and bounced off of him. He had been lost in thought so much that he hadn’t even seen it coming. On closer inspection it turned out he was hit by an orange most likely originating from Nami’s garden. It was then that he heard your laughter echoing down.

“What are you so troubled about, pretty boy?” you teased from up above in the crow’s nest.

Zoro’s eyebrow twitched a little, but he couldn’t be mad at you. Especially, when you called him pretty.

“If you’re so hung up about something, why don’t you keep me company up here instead of sulking down there by yourself?”

Zoro was about to decline when he realised that you were the only two people on deck. The others had headed in when the sun set and by now your brother should be more than busy with preparing dinner and keeping Luffy from eating the ingredients in the meantime.

“Just wait a sec,” Zoro grunted before he got up, grabbed his swords and ascended the mast.

As soon as he joined you on the crow’s nest a strong gust of wind reached the two of you, making him shudder slightly while your hair danced around your face, your coat definitely shielding you better from the cold than his kimono ever could.

You wordlessly handed him one of the blankets that always lay prepared and let him get comfortable beside you. A couple moments passed in silence before you shot him a glance.

“Soo… you wanna talk about it or what?”

Zoro – by now sprawled out over the crow’s nest – gazed back at you with his deep eyes and you felt a shiver running down your spine. Something in the atmosphere shifted again as it had so often in these past couple days whenever you two were on your own.

Still, you couldn’t quite grasp the meaning behind it all while you were sucked into his orbs which seemed to convey more than words ever could.

It seemed an eternity passed before Zoro finally opened his mouth to reply, “(Y/N).. I lo–”

“(Y/N)-chwaaaaaan! Dinner’s served! ”

Both of you winced when you heard Sanji’s voice booming over the deck. He had caught you entirely off guard and going by the sounds of his Skywalk he was currently on his way to where you were.

Soon Sanji landed on the edge of the railing, his smiling face immediately succumbing to a frown once he saw Zoro with you.

“I thought I told you to stay the heck away from my sister, mosshead.”

Up until now Sanji had never directly told Zoro to back off of you, but seeing you curled up this close in a quite romantic spot made his blood boil.

Zoro returned Sanji’s frown and snapped, “Not like it’s up to you to decide who (Y/N) hangs out with.”

“Oh, yeah? As her brother it is my duty to protect her chastity, especially from the likes of y– Ouch!”

Before the two of them could spiral down their usual path of rivalrous fighting you had given a quick jab to Sanji’s ribs. It didn’t hurt much but definitely shut him up.

“Just listen to the two of you! What’s going on these days? You are crew mates are you not? I’ve never been on board a ship with such animosity between its members! Seriously..”

It felt good finally voicing the thoughts that had been circling in your head, yet the lacking reaction of either of the concerned parties irritated you even more. They wouldn’t even look at each other!

“And you!” you turned to your brother and poked his chest with your index finger, “how come you make up the most ridiculous excuses to join in whenever I’m doing something with Zoro, huh? It’s fine when I’m alone with any other guy – crafting with Usopp, working with Franky, playing music with Brook or just chilling with Luffy – but what’s so wrong about Zoro?”

“Of course I’m trying to get him away from you! He’s the only guy around here who has a crush on you! Or am I the only one to notice the obvious?!”

Silence fell as your eyes widened.

“W-what?”

You slowly turned to Zoro who rubbed his head, clearly uncomfortable and kind of unnerved.

“I… may enjoy your company more than I initially thought.”

You turned back to your brother who massaged the spot between his brows, looking like he was about to get a headache. But who was there to blame but himself?

After another moment he finally grumbled, “Fine… Now that the cat’s out of the bag, I’ll leave you to it then. But let me make one thing crystal clear, Mosshead” – he stepped over to Zoro and hissed under his breath – ” You hurt her and I will kill you.”

With these words Sanji took his leave and left you and Zoro behind to work things out.

[rocorambles]

A Skulk of Foxes

Pairing: Kita x Reader

Prompt: Fantasy

Genre: SFW, Fluff, Fox Shifter Kita, Fantasy AU, Shifter AU

Summary: You moved to the woods to start fresh, begin a new chapter in your life. Little do you know just how much your world is about to change because of a skulk of foxes.  

Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s SFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist here to see how everyone decided to run with this prompt. (Masterlist goes live Thursday, October 29th 11:00pm U.K. time!) 

You sigh with relief when you finally finish unpacking the last box of your possessions, stretching your aching muscles as excitement finally begins to bubble inside of you when you proudly look at your new home you’ve made for yourself. Reality is finally sinking in and your giddy with the feeling of a fresh start, a new beginning. The quaint little cabin is certainly different from the cramped modern apartment you had in the heart of Tokyo, but different is exactly what you need and you nestle into the cozy armchair by the window in your new living room, a cup of hot tea in your hands as you enjoy the silence of nature and the view of swaying branches. 

If anyone were to have told you that you’d willingly choose to live in the middle of the woods by yourself a few years ago, you would have laughed. You were a city girl through and through and the idea of not being surrounded by the noise of traffic and crowds of people was baffling. But after your long-term relationship had taken a nosedive into the ground and crash and burned, suddenly the city felt suffocating, filled with too many memories, too many mutual acquaintances and when you had seen this listing on your way back home from work one night, you had jumped at the opportunity to escape it all and start a new chapter. 

Your new way of life takes some adjusting to, but you don’t mind as you pull on your new hiking boots, eager to explore the acres of wooded lands you’re surrounded by. The air is crisp and fresh, and you inhale deeply, soaking in the peaceful quiet only interrupted by the crunching of dirt and grass under your feet. And that’s how your days idle by, you scoping out the area in the early mornings as the sun is rising with your trusty nature handbook you’d bought in one hand, a basket in the other hand as you look back and forth between the herbs and plants you see and the painted illustrations and tips in the book, returning with a bundle of freshly picked produce before signing onto your work computer and dutifully putting in your hours. It’s a tiring grind, but when you finally get to power down your laptop and sit outside under the bright night stars with a glass of wine in your hand, it doesn’t seem so bad after all. 

You get savvier and more adventurous, really leaning into country living as you begin to grow your own vegetables and fruit, set up a fire pit, plant flowers that you use to spruce up your living space. It’s a wonderful life, but there’s only one slight concern in the back of your mind.

The foxes. 

Growing up in the city, you’d never learned how to handle animals other than the rats and roaches the concrete jungle was infested with. Sure, you love your share of fluffy dogs and cats that you’d pet and play with, but there’s a big difference between domesticized pets and wild animals and you had noticed early on that your neck of the woods seemed to be rampant with foxes. You wonder if it’s just the fact that you’d never seen a fox in real life before, but you can’t help but think these foxes seem much larger than your usual fox, their fur and eye colors ranging far more than you thought was biologically possible. But even though they seem to like hovering around you and watching you intently from a distance, they never draw near and they leave your gardens alone, so you dismiss their presence, letting them do as they please as you go about your own business. 

The weather’s getting colder and you figure now is the time to test the fire pit you’d built. It takes a bit of fumbling around, but you beam with pride when you get a flame started, mesmerized by the flickering light and warmth beginning to billow. And although the wind has a bite to it, the radiating heat keeps you comfortable as you roast the chicken you had bought in town, mouth already watering as the smell of cooked meat begins to permeate throughout the air. But you’re startled when two furry bodies suddenly brush up against you and you stay perfectly still, unsure what to do when a gold fox leaps into your lap, curling into a fluffy ball as he stares at you while a silver fox calmly sits next to you, nudging your hand with his head in a silent order to pet him and you tentatively scratch behind his ears, staring in awe as he leans into your touch. 

For wild animals, they’re oddly well behaved and affectionate and you’re frankly stunned that they hadn’t just pounced at the raw meat and ran away with your dinner. But you’re not complaining and you continue petting them as your meal continues cooking, only stopping to their dismay when the chicken is ready to be cut up. Your heart breaks a bit when you see them staring expectantly at you and you swear they're both pouting as you make a move to bring the chicken inside the house, but their ears perk up when you leave your door open and beckon them inside and they’re quick to race towards you, rushing between your legs before making their way to your dining table and jumping up on the extra chairs you have set. It’s certainly an odd sight to see two large wild foxes easily make themselves at home, but you can’t help but fondly smile at them when you prepare three plates of food and they eagerly dig in. 

They’re surprisingly neat about eating and it’s almost eerie how they seem to purposefully keep the scraps and bones on their plate, almost human-like the way they grab your napkin, using it to wipe their mouths and paws. Maybe they used to be someone’s pets? But you don’t dwell on it, enjoying the company they provide as they curl up by your feet as you wash the dishes, as their feet pitter-patter after you as you do some errands around the cabin and you’re almost sad when they nudge you to the door, waiting for you to let them out before you go to sleep. 

You quickly realize there’s nothing to be sad about, not when you have a furry entourage that walks beside you whenever you’re outside, not when bodies are weaving in between your legs, almost threatening to trip you with how excited they are to play with you, not when heads are constantly butting against you, begging for pets. It seems like your two friends had spread the word and now you have a whole slew of friendly foxes wanting to get to know you better and you love every second of it, even building a little door for them to easily walk in and out of your cabin and it becomes a common occurrence for you to wake up to fluffy bodies curled around your body, for foxes to be perched on your dining room chairs at meal times, for you to have a lap full of needy foxes wanting your attention when all your bellies are full.  

But there’s one fox who keeps his distance from you and even though he’s not the largest of the bunch, even you can sense the quiet authority he has as the other foxes are quick to lower their heads submissively and run to him when he barks at them. Even the golden fox who you’ve come to pinpoint as the troublemaker of the group seems to quiet down a bit around him and one day when he’s being just a tad too rowdy with you, nipping you harder than usual as he excitedly pounces on you, he immediately whines and sinks his head into the crook of your neck in apology when the light gray leader harshly growls at him. You affectionately pet the sad gold pile in your arms and verbally assure the gray fox that you’re fine even though you’re sure that he can’t understand a word you’re saying, but to your surprise, as if he comprehends exactly what you’re trying to convey, the gray fox relaxes a bit and lies back down, going back to quietly watching his pack and you. 

The weather’s becoming frigid and you know it’s silly to worry about clearly healthy and strong wild animals who’ve fended for themselves their whole lives, but you can’t help the pang of concern you have for your furry friends as snow begins to creep in. However, in hindsight, maybe you should have been more concerned for yourself. It’s an especially brutal day and you really shouldn’t be outside at all, not with the wind whipping at neck breaking speeds and torrential amounts of snow pouring down, but like a true city idiot, you’d procrastinated about restocking your wood supply and now with nothing left to keep you warm, you have no choice but to venture out and collect as much as you can to at least keep a fire going on during the worst of the snow storm. 

You pride yourself on knowing the woods like the back of your hand now, but the pain of the wind whipping your face and the never ending white in your vision as the snow keeps on coming down makes it hard to concentrate, makes it hard to orient yourself and as the frost begins to get to you, making you shiver, making you lose all train of thoughts other than the fact that you’re literally freezing to death, you panic. You’re frozen stiff as you wildly circle around, trying to calm the swirling dark thoughts in your head as you try to make sense of where you are, but it’s no use. Everything looks the same now and you think you might be sick from the rocketing anxiety inside of you, but you’re pulled back to reality by a harsh tug at your coat sleeve and you almost sob in relief when you see a familiar light gray pelt tipped with black. 

Brown eyes look imploringly at you as he gives your sleeve another harsh tug and that’s all the encouragement you need to stumble after him, trusting him to bring you back to safety. Your legs are numb and there’s not a hint of grace in your steps and for a second, you’re afraid of falling behind, but your heart warms at the way he makes sure to never be more than an arm's length in front of you, always turning his head back to make sure you’re still right behind him, nipping insistently at you when you pause for too long. And even when you finally reach your cabin, he practically shoves you through your door with his whole body, almost ripping your clothes as he rapidly helps you remove your soaked through clothing. 

You’re shocked to see him still standing outside your bathroom door when you finally step out of the warm water, but still overwhelmed and exhausted by the day’s events, you only briefly acknowledge him as your body barely makes it to your bed before collapsing. And as your eyes shut and you slip under a heavy cloud of sleep, you swear you feel arms and hands rearranging you, carefully tucking you underneath your blankets, propping your head up on a pillow. You swear you hear a male voice scolding you for putting yourself in danger, telling you to rest. But too exhausted to open your heavy lids, you chalk it up to your imagination before completely drifting off. 

You’ll never be able to fully explain what happened as you finally wake up only to find that a fire has been started, a healthy supply of dry wood set up by it, your wet clothes hung up to dry, but unable to really remember much after you’d been guided back to your cabin, you think you must have just been working on auto-pilot before you passed out. (Never mind that you certainly don’t remember collecting that much wood.) But with no better explanation, you let it be, just glad to be safe and warm. And it seems like you’re not the only one happy to still see you alive and kicking as familiar visitors come by to check in on you and you have a strange suspicion that they’re worried about you, even the gold fox being more docile than usual as he cuddles with you. To your surprise, their leader also pays you a visit and you can’t help but feel chastised when you thank him for rescuing you, only to get a sharp nip and a growl in return and you swear he’s glowering at you. But it seems that all is forgiven when he shoves the gold fox out of your lap and regally takes his place, curling up and falling fast asleep on top of you. 

They never let you leave your cabin alone again that winter and it’s almost comical when they let out a series of howls as you climb into your car when you refuse to let even one of them ride with you. You wonder if an outsider would think you’re crazy as you speak to them, telling them you’d be right back after you pick up some much needed supplies and food from town that you can’t get by yourself in the woods. But eventually they quiet down and you chuckle when you see them all sitting outside your cabin through your rear car window, watching you leave, and you have a strong suspicion that they’ll be in the same exact position waiting for you when you return home. 

The town’s small, but everyone’s so friendly and helpful that you don’t mind waiting a tiny bit longer in line as the sole cashier takes care of everyone, enjoying the friendly chitter chatter and catching up on what’s been going on. The sheriff greets you and you smile at the handsome man. Daichi had been one of the first people to go out of his way to greet you. “It’s a sheriff’s duty to know everyone in town,” he had said, but you had a feeling that sheriff or not, he’d still be friendly enough to try and get to know the new person in town. Conversation is pleasant as both of you share what’s been going on in your lives, but your heart drops when he warns you to be careful of poachers in your area. His team is still trying to find and arrest them, but until then, he cautions you from wandering too far from home. He continues rambling on, but you’ve completely tuned him out, your mind only thinking of your new furry family and everything is a blur as you shakily pack your car trunk and race home. 

Relief floods through you when you see the foxes still lazing about and lounging in your yard, perking up at the sight and sound of your rapidly approaching vehicle. But their fur stands up and their tails rise in agitation at your distressed state as you usher them into the safety of your cabin and before you know it, you’re surrounded by multiple bodies whimpering and trying to jump on you to soothe you. You know it’s silly to talk to them and try to explain what’s going on, but with no other way to relay your feelings, you tell them what Daichi had told you, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes when you beg them to be careful, telling them they can use your house as a safe shelter whenever they need, and you don’t even realize that you’re almost completely sobbing until their light gray leader leaps into your lap and gently laps away your salty tears, nuzzling his face against your cheek as if he’s trying to comfort you. And whether or not that’s really what he was intending, you do feel better as you hug his large body close to you, burying your face into his soft fur. 

You feel lighter after that night, still a little wary and concerned for your newfound friends, but days pass and life seems normal. You don’t hear gunshots. You don’t see strange men roaming through the woods. Daichi and you keep in contact and although he tells you they still haven’t caught the perpetrators yet, slight hope rises in you and you wonder if they’ve moved on to a different area. But your hopes are instantly dashed when you’re abruptly woken by paws frantically clawing at you, loud distressed howls right in your ear and with your heart thumping out of your chest you stare with wide bleary eyes at the gold and silver foxes nudging you out of bed, one leading the way, the other repeatedly rushing you, his head pushing against the back of your legs. 

You have a bad feeling about what has them in such an uproar and you hate that your apprehension was warranted when you see their leader crying in pain, an ugly sharp metal contraption digging deeply into one of his front legs and suddenly you’re moving even faster than your furry companions as you lunge towards him, quickly, but carefully trying to assess the damage, trying to figure out how to untangle him from the horrid trap. You’ve just managed to pry open the trap enough for him to free himself and limp a bit aways when you hear the sounds of men's voices and approaching footsteps. And there’s nothing friendly about the way they’re shouting, nothing welcoming about the glint of their guns in the flashlight beams bouncing around, so before you can even strategically think about what you’re doing, you pick up the injured fox, careful not to jostle or touch his wound as you run as fast as your legs can move, not stopping even when your lungs are burning from exertion, even when you want to keel over from exhaustion, urged on and not allowed to slow down by the nips to your ankles the gold and silver foxes give you as they run alongside you. 

Gunshots are whizzing around you, but you have the knowledge of the terrain and expert guides on your side and the angry screams get quieter and farther away the longer you race forward before soon enough there’s only your labored breathing and the tiny cries of the fox you’re holding to your chest. But despite that, you don’t slow down, throwing your front door open as you slowly lay the gray fox on your bed, rushing to grab your first-aid box while simultaneously calling Daichi, putting him on speaker phone as you wash the bloody matted fur. You know you must sound frazzled, distracted as you fumble with words, trying to give him the best approximate location you can of where you’d lost the poachers while you tenderly pet the whimpering fox who’s hissing with every wipe you give to his bleeding injury, but you thank whoever’s listening that Daichi makes sense of your stuttered words and tells you he’s on his way to scan the area and for you to get some rest before hanging up and leaving you to give your sole attention to your patient. 

You whisper sweet encouraging words in a soft tone, apologizing and stroking his stomach everytime he winces as you continue cleaning his wound, but he stays perfectly still, not budging even an inch despite his discomfort and when you finally bandage him up, you smile as you see him finally slumping into your bedsheets, exhaustion finally catching up to him now that adrenaline isn’t amping him up and you can’t help the affectionate kiss you plant on his forehead as you tuck him into your bed, unaware of the way brown eyes stare at you in shock, unblinking as they process the intimate gesture you’d gifted him. And when you get ready for bed, shooing the other foxes out of your room to give your special guest some space and peace to fully relax, you’re still oblivious to the way a wet snout tentatively returns your gesture when you close your eyes, making light contact with your own forehead before curling his furry head underneath your chin and basking in your natural warmth. 

It’s warm when you wake up, which is welcome when it’s frigid outside of the safety of your blankets and you instinctively lean into the source expecting to feel the familiar plush fur of the foxes who come to share your bed sometimes. But your eyes shoot open when you feel warm skin underneath your fingertips and you have to fight back the scream when you come face to face with a man you don’t recognize who’s groggily opening his brown eyes, your body scrambling backwards. Tangled in the sheets, you don’t get far and fear lances through you as you stare wide-eyed at the stranger beside you who’s...panicking even more than you are? 

You pause in your escape attempt as you take a closer look at the man who’s frantically wrapping your blanket around his bare body, brown eyes staring at you in fear which is strange considering this is your room he’s intruding in. Common sense tells you to be wary and yet there’s something familiar about his eyes and when you finally take note of his light gray hair tipped with black and the bandage around his arm, disbelief runs through you as you tentatively approach his huddled form. 

“Are you- are you the fox I took care of?”

Brown eyes warily observe you as you draw near, but they widen in surprise when your hand gently runs through his hair and you give him the same sweet smile you’ve always given him when he was in his fox form. 

“You’re not scared of me?” 

You laugh. “If anything, I’m more surprised than anything else. Care to explain?”

And spurred on by the hope that the human he’s come to love might actually accept him for who he really is, he is quick to tell you everything and anything and you listen in amazement as he tells you about shifters, how him and his pack are all fox shifters, how there are different types of shifters all over the world, how they’re much more common than humans realize. He tells you his name, Kita, and the names of every fox shifter you’ve met. He tells you about the awful history of humans hunting them down to sell on the black market which has led them to live as foxes, deep in the woods, away from any living soul. He tells you about how you’re the first human his pack has interacted with for years, the first human to gain their trust after years of loneliness, never being able to access or connect with their human side. 

There’s a brief moment of silence as you take everything in, still softly carding your fingers through his hair. But the lingering question in your head finally slips out. 

“Why did you reveal yourself to me now?”

And your lips quirk at the shy flustered expression on his face as he buries deeper into your cozy blankets. 

“I was too exhausted to keep my fox form after everything that happened last night.”

But before you can tease him a bit more, there’s a knock on your door and you panic, unsure how to explain the unknown man in your cabin. However, it seems that you have nothing to worry about when you spin around, only to see Kita’s fox form nonchalantly curled up in your bed, looking at you with his own smug amusement at your gaping mouth. You rush to the door, Kita padding after you, a slight limp from his front leg and upon seeing the sheriff through your peephole, you greet him, giddy with relief when he tells you that they’ve managed to apprehend all the poachers thanks to your tip last night. 

It never crosses your mind how strange it was that Daichi so easily arrested all the men despite your extremely vague directions and despite it being pitch black, but unknown to you, it’s easier than you think to maneuver through the dense night woods when you have wings. However, Kita’s more perceptive than you and when he scents the air, he looks in interest at the man who smells like a crow and brown and black eyes lock for a second as a hint of acknowledgement runs through Daichi’s eyes when the shifter inside of him sees the fox for what he really is. But it’s only a fleeting glance, too quick for your human eyes to notice, and Daichi parts ways, subtly nodding to the fox who’s currently laying on your feet before waving goodbye to you, leaving Kita and you alone once again. Well, maybe not that alone, you think, as a group of familiar foxes come racing towards the both of you once Daichi is gone. 

Life is chaotic, in a good way, but chaotic nonetheless after that. It’s a new dynamic for all of you as you try to merge your two worlds and ways of life together. It no longer phases you when you see glimpses of naked men running here and there as they shift between their human and fox forms and you’ve learned to always have spare sets of clothing on hand to quickly throw their way when they do decide to take their human shape for a spin. Atsumu has finally stopped whining about not being allowed to sleep in your bed with you anymore after Kita had put him in his place and your face goes hot when you remember exactly what had transpired during that conversation. 

When you had found out they were shifters, you found yourself being a little more self-conscious and self-aware around them. It seemed unbecoming of a woman to be sharing the same bed or changing in front of foxes that turned into handsome men and soon Kita was the only one allowed in your bedroom. Atsumu had howled and complained the first night that Kita slipped into your bed next to you, demanding to also be let in, questioning why Kita was allowed to sleep with you, especially in his human form. And suddenly feeling like a parent who suddenly has to explain the birds and the bees to their child, you grow flustered, unsure how to broach the subject. But sensing your panic, a large hand gently grabbed your chin, turning you until you were facing the serious countenance that you’d come to love, and in front of the still wailing younger man, he had captured your lips in a searing kiss before pointedly looking at a suddenly silent Atsumu. 

“That’s why,” he had calmly said, but before he could even fully voice those two words, Atsumu had quickly retreated, closing the door behind him and leaving the two of you alone. 

The two of you had skirted around directly talking about what was going on between the two of you, but that kiss had officially sealed the deal and you both stay up late that night, talking about your future life together, as his mate, as your boyfriend and it seems like unsurprisingly, Atsumu has run his mouth off and the whole pack is there waiting to congratulate you two on finally getting together the next morning. 

And now here you are, living in a recently expanded cabin, loud and full of bodies, both furry and human. You take a sip of your coffee, rolling your eyes as you hear the twins bicker, a slight smile on your face when you see Aran and Suna in their fox forms, napping on the couch, the others sprawled out here and there as they cook and eat breakfast. But it’s the strong arms that wrap around your waist from behind, the mouth stealing a sip from your piping hot mug before burying his face in the crook of your neck and shoulder that makes your heart flutter and you turn to kiss Kita, melting into his hold as you both survey your new family, your new home.   

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

So I watched 10.09 recently, and it has that part where Dean tells a story about him basically being almost roofied as a teen, but somehow it ends up framed as the funny joke and yet another proof that John "did what he could", and I kind of hate this? And it's the same episode in which MoC!Dean killed guys that kidnapped and tried to rape Claire, and you'd think writers would've addressed the parallels and acknowledge that Dean could've been triggered by this situation. 1/2

2/2 But in the end, it's never addressed, and the whole situation is framed as the proof that Dean is evil now. And I'm not even sure what I am trying to say, but with that being the show's approach back in s10, I'm not surprised about the finale anymore. Guess we should've known?

That’s an excellent angle to look at the issue because the Mark of Cain arc is a clear example of how people with different experiences will see the same thing in wildly different ways. There’s this phase of season 10 where everyone is like “oh no Dean is Getting Worse” and when you look at what Dean is doing... you actually go “...good for him”.

Let’s give Caesar what belongs to Caesar. It’s not “the writers” in this case, it’s Dabb. Plenty of other writers don’t fall into this John apologism thing. Just look at how the episode before Lebanon, written by Buckner and Ross Leming, says that sometimes John would temporarily kick Dean out because he was “pissed at him” despite Dean always taking his side to mantain the peace. It almost seems like a statement to sprinkle some salt given what Dabb does in Lebanon, you know? Maybe not, but there is a tension between “John was shitty” writers and “John did his best” writers.

In hindsight, we gave Dabb too much of the benefit of the doubt. We were like, weeell, that’s supposed to be way the characters perceive the truth, which is distorted by the trauma... But now it’s obvious that he truly believed in the John-did-his-best version. He brought him back and got Mary back with him. No matter what happened to the finale, the network didn’t print those pictures of John and Mary to hang on Sam’s wall. He never took Dean’s abuse seriously and it shows.

The “anedocte” of Dean getting drugged and “saved” by John from being raped is obviously there to parallel him with Claire. Which works! It’s so weird because it’s like. You are soooo close to getting the point. Younger Dean was assaulted just like this teenage girl is assaulted and Dean saves her... but apparently John yelling at those people is a good way of dealing with the issue, while murdering child traffickers is an overraction thus bad.

That’s the problem, isn’t it? That Dean’s murder spree is framed as an overreaction. Sam is like “tell me you had to do this! tell me it was you or them!” - the answer to which (by the narrative) is obviously no, it wasn’t self defense, he just killed them because he could. He just murdered those men for no reason except he felt like being murdery. And the audience is supposed to be like “oh no! Dean is murdery for no reason except for murderiness! That’s bad!”.

But it’s a power fantasy, isn’t it? Going on a murder spree on rapists and traffickers. I bet any people who’s been violated like that has fantasized of doing the exact thing Dean does here. Killing them all.

Dean had the physical strength and skill to kill them all, why shouldn’t he kill them? (I mean, in real life I’m against private justice because I’m a fan of the state of law, but the Supernatural universe obviously works on different principles than the state of law. Again, it’s a fictional narrative that plays out as a fantasy for the audience, so.)

So what was Dabb’s intention? I’m afraid it’s the worst one. “John Winchester’s not going to win any Number One Dad awards, you know? But, you know, damn if he wasn’t there when we needed him”. What the fuck, Dabb? It’s been established since season 1 that John WASN’T there when they needed him. Which... I’m afraid... leads us to the Cas-Claire plot in the episode. Cas has fucked off with Jimmy’s body leaving Claire on her own. Parallels how John wasn’t going to win wny Number One Dad awards. But! Cas is there when Claire Really Needs Him i.e. when she’s about to be raped by older men. Parallels how John was there when Dean Really Needed Him i.e. when he was about to be raped by older men.

I think the point is to say, Cas kinda sucked because he took Claire’s dad away but hey! He’s actually a good figure for Claire because he gets there in time to prevent her from being raped. Just like (ew) John kinda sucked as a father because hunting and stuff, but hey! He’s actually a good figure for Dean because he got there in time to prevent him from being raped.

It’s pretty yucky. Literally NOBODY wanted a parallel between Cas and John. But he made one. And he made one to absolve Cas from the guilt he carried for what he did to Claire (Claire’s mother is a mother so who fucking cares about her. She’s basically a Blurry Wife(TM), she’s only a tool for Claire’s arc, Cas apparently only cares about the harm he did the child, not the wife, for some reason.) and to absolve Cas from his guilt it absolves John too. Don’t worry, being a parent is hard. You often screw up. But you can *looks at smudged writing on hand* prevent the kid from being raped by predatory adults and everything’s fine now.

It’s not really important if the child suffered hunger or whatever, the only important thing is that they don’t get raped, because that’s bad, everything else is just a little detail.

All Dabb got with that scene was to paint Sam as extremely unsympathetic because he’s no longer a child, he’s a full adult now and still thinks of that episode at the CBGB as a funny story. That’s not a good look. It almost makes you think that the writer himself saw it as a funny story. Lol teenage boy biting more than he can chew. But then why the Claire parallel? The Claire scene onviously is not supposed to be anything but horrific. I'll give Dabb the benefit of the doubt on this specific thing.

It’s weird, yes, because Dabb wrote Dark Side of the Moon where he establishes that John was a bad husband/father even before tragedy hit the family. But apparently that’s the “not going to win any Number One Dad awards” part, I suppose? I guess he intended to write John as this flawed, ~complex~ figure who was imperfect but still brave and whatever blah blah did his best blah blah. I’m all for flawed complicated characters but a horrible father is a horrible father. A rose by any other name... parental abuse is still parental abuse even if the poor guy was complicated and traumatized and did what he thought he had to do to prepare his sons for a violent world.

Also, the story frames Dean’s escapade as a teenager being stupid. “You know what he got for that? Me whining about how much he embarrassed me. Me telling him that I hated him. But then he stopped and turned around looked at me and said, Son, you don’t like me? That’s fine. It’s not my job to be liked.” “It’s my job to raise you right.” This seems straight from a novel about teenagers doing something stupid that they’re too young to realize that their parents are right to be against them doing. But this isn’t just... a parent walking into a bar to stop their child to drink alcohol. Dean literally describes feeling sick from something that was inside the alcohol.

Sure, it makes sense that he’d lash out to John because of the shame and shock. But the scene is... off. Are we supposed to see this as a typical teenage mistake? Are we supposed to read it as something as horrific as what happened to Claire, literally sold into rape? Or, worse, are we supposed to see what happened to Claire as a teenage mistake, ah silly teenager, blindly trusting shady people, no wonder you end up in a situation where you’d get raped if a father figure didn’t sweep in and save you. I hope that wasn’t the intent.

To get back to Dean’s Mark-of-Cain violence, the writers clearly didn’t intend it to come from the Darkness up to a certain point. It was supposed to an arc about your own inner darkness (consider the Charlie episode, a couple episodes later). Then they came up with the idea of The(TM) Darkness, the suppressed cosmic feminine. While it caused a bit of dissonance in the subtext, it doesn’t really change Dean’s narrative, because his inner darkness is the trauma, and his trauma is inherebtly tied to the “feminine” i.e. the parts of him that don’t fit seamlessly into the scheme of toxic masculinity values. That the violence that comes from the Mark of Cain comes from Dean himself and that’s it, or is connected to the Darkness, it doesn’t change what it means for Dean. Dean and Amara have parallel histories, the feminine principle locked away, the trauma the anger stems from.

In 10x09 we’re still in the Before The (TM) Darkness era, before the suppressed cosmic feminine. The Mark of Cain arc is still about... well, Cain. But the shift is the signal that someone looked at Dean’s arc and said... you know what? “Lucifer gave me this curse so now I’m demonic and murdery” is meh. “Toxic masculinity suppresses the feminine and it creates trauma which rage and violence comes from” is more interesting. I don’t know whose idea it was, but it was a good idea, and surely the idea came from seeing how Dean’s MoC narrative was unfolding.

Dean’s MoC narrative was unfolding in a certain way, in fact, because of a pretty simple reason. There’s a fundamental tension in Dean’s MoC arc. We want him to go murdery, but it’s also our main character, so we don’t want him to do really horrible things because he still needs to be relatable. The audience cannot hate him, so he must NOT do something entirely unforgivable. He still needs to be somewhat relatable, even when demonic or demonic-adjacent.

So he goes on a murder spree... but it’s rapists and child traffickers. He’s demon, but he kills a misogynistic dude that wanted his wife dead for cheating on him. He’s a demon, but beats up dudes that harass women. He does a slaughter, but they’re nazi. He’s off the deep end, but works a case of kidnapped and abused young women...

Speaking of which. 10x23, written by Jeremy Carver. Dean works a case where a girl was killed while dressed scantily and Dean makes some slut-shaming remarks, and we’re supposed to think “whoa Dean, that’s bad”. But later he confronts the girl’s father and what does he say?

I’m just doing my job, Mr. McKinley.

By suggesting my daughter was a slut?

I’ll admit that thought crossed my mind. Then I came here, and I smelled the deceit and the beatings and the shame that pervade this home.

You shut your face right now.

And you know what? I don’t blame Rose anymore. No wonder she put on that skank outfit and went out there looking for validation, right into the arms of the monster that killed her.

Back then the episode was super controversial and everyone hated the case because of the apparent slut-shaming but I loved it! Because it’s not about the girl. It’s about Dean. Dean doesn’t think that a girl gets killed because she dresses in a miniskirt so it’s her fault. Dean is projecting on himself and he’s not actually victim blaming the girl, he’s victim blaming himself. And when he absolves the girl by putting the blame on the father... well, subtextually he’s absolving himself by putting the blame on his father. On the deceit and the beatings and the shame that pervaded his own home. He’s textually not ready to absolve himself, of course, he summons Death to ask him to kill him later, but subtextually he’s on the right path.

Rose McKinley basically did the same mistake Dean did at the CBGB when he trusted some older people who offered him drinks and the same mistake Claire did when she trusted a man who sold her for money because he offered him a place and stability. She trusted the wrong people (in this case, vampires, which adds the whole subtext of vampires and sexuality) who took advantage of her. Except Rose had no one to save her. (Her friend, Crystal, gets rescued by Dean, even if he causes the other hunter Rudy to die in the process.)

Carver’s writing is pretty brutal. The girl made that mistake because was abused at home, so she was desperate for validation and that desperation drove her into the wrong hands. (Rose even has a brother who blames himself for bringing her sister to her future murderers, destructive sibling relationship check.) It doesn’t actually even matter if Dean guessed right about Rose’s family situation, because what matters is what it tells us about Dean. He basically relates to a dead abused girl. Actually all through the season Dean is paralleled to “skanks” “sluts” and sex workers. Obviously this happens kinda all through the show, the whole “the business is based on absent fathers” thing happened much earlier in the story, so it’s not new. But s10 draws a picture of female suffering - abuse, manipulation and death. Season 10 was difficult to go through. In hindsight, it was probably on purpose because it was supposed to be darkest hour of the feminine. Summed with some good old fashioned misogyny, but hey.

The Carver era was wonky but Carver wanted to free the feminine. (I believe that Mary’s comeback, while written by Dabb because of the showrunner shift, was planned before the showrunner shift.) We thought the Dabb era wanted the same, with Mary choosing life and Amara being independent and so on, but it evidently wasn’t the case. Not a single woman arrives at end of the story. It’s hardly ~Bucklemming or ~the network or ~covid because it starts before the very end.

I’m not saying that dead sluts are more feminist than living women, but if the women die or disappear anyway (and they did) I’d rather have an exploration of trauma than nothing. And I definitely prefer a dead slut narrative that calls out parental abuse than a narrative where women live but abuse gets the you-did-your-best treatment.

Whoops! I digressed! But feel free to ask for any clarification or send me any observation or thought.