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lillywillow · 3 years ago

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Birthday Wishes

Summary: Bucky wants to plan the best party ever for his young daughter

Word Count: 2430

Square Filled: Free Space

Pairings: Singledad!Bucky x Female Reader/ Steve x Peggy

Warnings: None really

Written for @star-spangled-bingo

Ever since the mother to Bucky’s daughter passed away when she was a baby, he had been totally devoted to her and every year on her birthday, he went all out trying to make it the best one ever.

About a month ago, Tony’s daughter Morgan had a mermaid themed party; complete with a woman dressed as a mermaid. Bucky’s daughter Rebecca had totally raved about it and with her own birthday coming up, he made a note to take one of the business cards with him.

...

The moment Bucky walked into the building, he was in awe. The front of the store was full of costumes, dolls, plushies, pirate treasure chests, fairy wings and wands... every kind of fantasy item a child could possibly want and a lot of it looked handmade. Out the back, he could hear squealing and laughter. A party in progress, perhaps?

“Good afternoon, welcome to Childhood Dreams. How may I help you?” the receptionist asked.

“Hi. I’m looking to book a party? It’s for my daughter...”

“I see. Well, before booking a party, you’ll need to make an appointment with Y/N. She likes to customise her parties to the client. She’s currently doing a performance but if you’re happy to wait, she’ll be done soon...”

“I can wait...”

“Great. Follow me please...”

Bucky followed the receptionist into the back. There was a pirate party taking place with all the children dressed up as pirates. There were props and decorations keeping in tone with the theme and an incredible cake. On the stage up the front was the same woman who had played the part of the mermaid at Morgan’s party, this time she was a pirate, enacting a mighty swordfight with another actor. She really put her all into the performance.

Bucky watched her for a moment before the receptionist pulled him along and guided him to an office along the side. The inside of the office was just as cheerful and childlike as the rest of the place. The desk was lined with small trinkets. Along the walls were various photographs of the woman in different costumes. A princess, a fairy, a friendly witch... there was a costume for every occasion. Bucky was in the middle of admiring them when the door opened and the subject from the photos stepped in.

“You must be the gentleman wanting a party,” she smiled, taking off her hat and eye patch before sitting at her desk and encouraging him to take a seat. “I’m Y/N.”

“Yes, that’s right. My name is Bucky and I’m looking to do a birthday party for my daughter Rebecca,” he said, getting his phone out to show her a picture.

Y/N smiled at the photo of the little girl who was dressed as a princess.

“Tell me about Rebecca. I take it she’s a princess fan?”

Bucky’s face lit up as he spoke about his little girl. Everything that she loved about princesses and fairytales, down to her favourite colours, animals and mythical creatures.

“I’m probably rambling now...”

“No, no, I think it’s sweet to see a father so dedicated to his daughter. Let me show you a few of our packages,” she smiled.

Y/N logged into her tablet to show him a few of the princess themed parties they offered. Bucky looked through the options before deciding on a fantasy type one with princesses, wizards and all things in that vein.

“Will you be having the party here or elsewhere?”

“I think home would be best... unless... here would be better? I don’t know...”

“Some children feel more comfortable on home base and some like going out. It’s really up to you. My job is to give your child the best possible experience...”

Bucky nodded slowly and thought.

“She might like a party in her own backyard...”

“That’s totally fine. I’ll need to visit ahead of time just so I can work on a setup. Now, will you be providing your own cake? If not, I can recommend an excellent bakery.”

“A family friend agreed to make the cake,” Bucky replied.

Y/N nodded and jotted down a few notes.

“What about food?”

“Yes, we’ll be making our own food too.”

Y/N nodded again and wrote down a few more notes. After agreeing on a price, a date and time to meet, his address and the date of the party, Bucky started heading out the door.

“One more thing...”

Bucky turned to look at her.

“I like to ask our clients how they found out about our business...”

“A while ago, you threw a mermaid party for a friend of mine’s daughter. Rebecca couldn’t stop talking about it for days after that...”

Y/N smiled fondly.

“I see... well, I guess I’ll see you when I come to do my inspection. Goodbye, Bucky.”

“Bye.”

As Bucky left the office, he could feel his heart fluttering like it hadn’t done in a long time. Ever since his wife’s passing, Bucky hadn’t even looked at another woman. Well, he had looked but he had always been so busy taking care of Rebecca, he didn’t really have time to be pursuing women. Sure on occasion, he would go on a blind date now and then and Steve would babysit but that would be the extent of it. Bucky thought for sure his dating life was over but talking to Y/N just now... it gave him a lot of hope.

...

Time went by and eventually the day arrived when you went to meet Bucky at his place. Bucky greeted you at the door with a smile and ushered you inside. Smiling, you looked around the place. Pictures of Bucky’s life lined the walls and shelves. Photos of him with friends but most of them were of his little girl. One thing you noticed was the lack of pictures of the girl’s mother. There were a few of her before having the child but not many after.

“So, um... what do you need to see?”

“You mentioned a backyard?” you said, referring back to the interview you had a few days ago.

Bucky nodded and showed you the way. First, you scoped out the best place to conduct your performance then took out your measuring tape to size up the props you might need. As you worked, Bucky could see the gears turning in your head.

“Do you go out to different locations a lot?” Bucky asked, trying to strike up a conversation.

“Not a lot but it’s always fun when we do.”

“How long have you been in business?”

“It’s taken me about ten years to get it off the ground. It’s only been gaining popularity in the last year or so...”

“Wait, so you own Childhood Dreams?”

“Sure do. You see, I always believed childhood should be about fun and games before going onto the drudgery of adulthood. And I help out local business in the process. Most of the items available for purchase were made by local artists. I’m always willing to lend a hand when they need it. That’s why I ask about food. There’s a small bakery a few blocks from the building we’re located who does the most beautiful cakes...”

You suddenly were interrupted by something brushing up against your leg. Looking down, you saw the most adorable white cat.

“Why, hello there. Aren’t you a cutie?” you cooed, bending down to pat the snowy feline.

“This is Alpine. Rebecca is just crazy about her. She’s been a really big help ever since...” Bucky paused, feeling a lump in his throat and tears well up in his eyes.

Alpine trotted over to him and purred as he picked her up.

“Sorry. It’s just... ever since my wife passed when Rebecca was a baby; I’ve wanted to give her the best life possible. I try to give equal amounts of time between her so she can look up to me and work so she has the best things in life...”

You went over and gave him a hug.

“You’re a good man, Bucky. I’ve been in this business long enough to tell the devoted parents from the off-standers. Just by spending a few minutes with you, I already know that you love your daughter and think the world of her. Just make sure you spend a few moments taking care of yourself, okay? It doesn’t have to be much, just enough so you feel good too.”

Bucky gave you a soft smile, knowing that you were right. Everyone had told him as such but sometimes, it’s harder to take advice from the people closest to you.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” he offered.

“Actually, I should get going. I’ve got a children’s charity event I need to get ready for. It’s been really nice seeing you again, Bucky. I guess the next time I see you will be for your daughter’s party.”

“See you then,” Bucky smiled.

He couldn’t wait for the party.

...

Finally, the day of Rebecca’s birthday arrived. Bucky had spent the night before busily transforming his humble home into a castle fit for a princess. He wanted everything to be perfect for his little girl’s special day, buying the most glittery, ruffled princess dress for her to wear, complete with a sparkly tiara. Bucky himself hired a prince costume and even managed to obtain a kitty sized dragon costume for Alpine.

Bucky spent the morning cooking, starting with a plate of pancakes for breakfast before moving onto the finishing touches on the food for the party. He had most of it prepared already but some of it needed heating.

The first to arrive was Wanda with her twin boys who were both in costume. The boys instantly ran over to play with Rebecca while Wanda was left holding the cake she had made along with her purse and the present she had bought. Bucky rushed over to help her with the items and after exchanging greetings and pleasantries, she showed his the cake.

It was everything Bucky could have ever hoped for and more. The cake was purple with ice cream cones decorated like castle turrets, topped with little princess and unicorn figurines and the words ‘Happy Birthday, Rebecca’ written in icing along with the age she was turning. Little pink flowers were piped along the sides.

“Thank you so much, Wanda. Becca’s just going to love it.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled, giving him a hug.

Soon after Wanda’s arrival was Steve and Peggy with their child followed by Tony, Pepper and Morgan, Sam with his kid and it wasn’t long before all the party guests had arrived. The adults all mingled while the children played together happily. Right on time, Y/N arrived with her scene partner in full costume. She was wearing a knight costume while her partner (whom she introduced as Phil) was dressed as an ‘evil’ wizard. Bucky settled the kids in front of the makeshift stage and let the performance begin.

Y/N started by introducing herself as a knight dedicated to Princess Rebecca.

“That’s me!” Rebecca squealed in delight, jumping to her feet and clapping.

Y/N knelt down to be level with her, crossing her right arm over her chest in a salute.

“I vow to protect you from the evils of the kingdom.”

Suddenly, Phil jumped out of his hiding place.

“Mwa-ha-ha! I am an evil wizard and I am here to change all the cakes into broccoli!”

Bucky thought he was laying it on a little thick but there was a wave of horrified gasps from the kids.

“Not so fast, evil wizard! We will defeat you! Kids, if I’m going to beat him, I’m going to need your help...”

Y/N and Phil made an amazing pair. While Y/N encouraged the children and even a few of the parents to join in, Phil played off their reactions until he was ‘defeated’.

“You win! I will change my evil ways and use my powers for good!” he dramatically cried.

The children all cheered and clapped. The two actors took a bow and started to pack up as Bucky announced it was time for cake. The kids all raced over to where the cake was being brought out.

“Would you two like to stay for cake?” Bucky offered.

Phil looked at Y/N for permission, a hopeful glint in his eye.

“Sure. We have some time before our next appointment,” she smiled. Phil gave a big, childlike grin.

Once everyone had sung Happy Birthday to Rebecca and she had blown out the candles, the cake was served out. Steve approached Bucky.

“Hey, man. How are you doing?”

“A bit tired but seeing the smile on that little girl’s face makes it all worth it,” he softly sighed.

Steve followed Bucky’s gaze to where Rebecca was talking animatedly to Y/N. He could tell the smile on her face was genuine and not just for show. This was a person who loved their job and loved children.

“Is that the same Y/N you’ve been going on about all week?”

“I haven’t been talking about her that much...”

Steve gave him an incredulous look.

“You know, it’s okay to like her. Why don’t you ask her out?”

“What about Rebecca?”

“Peggy and I can look after her while you go out on date. You deserve to be happy too...”

Bucky thought about it for a while and headed over to Y/N and Rebecca.

“Daddy, daddy! Y/N was the mermaid at Morgan’s party! She’s magical...” Rebecca was absolutely smitten with the woman.

“I see... Can I talk Y/N alone for a minute? Then you can open presents,” he smiled.

Rebecca giggled and hugged his leg before running off to play with her friends.

“She’s a darling,” Y/N warmly smiled.

“She is... Listen, Y/N... I was wondering... if you’re not busy tomorrow night... if maybe you’d like to have dinner with me...”

“Like a date?”

Bucky’s face flushed.

“I mean, if you want it to be...”

Y/N kissed his cheek.

“I’d like that. How about 7:00 at the restaurant around the from the Childhood Dreams building. They do an amazing meal...”

“Sounds perfect,” he smiled.

This was one the best days of Bucky’s life. Not only did he pull off the perfect party for his daughter but he took a step back into the dating world with an incredible woman who somehow stole his heart.

#ssb2021 #Free Space #Birthday Wishes #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #single dad!bucky #Rebecca #Children's birthday party #Acting #phil coulson #Steve Rogers #Friends #Fluff #Alpine

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starring-movies · 4 years ago

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The Haunting of Bly Manor: Episode Analysis

*SPOILERS*

Episode 4 - The Way It Came

Episode 4 of The Haunting of Bly Manor has two timelines, like the majority of the prior episodes, with the present one continuing the current story and the past one focusing around Dani’s backstory and mainly how she ended up working at the manor.

We immediately find out, at Dani and Eddie’s engagement party, that they have gone “from childhood sweethearts to happily ever after”. From this it’s made clear that Dani has known Eddie from childhood, and has most likely been in a romantic relationship with him for a very long time. As a result of this, we can see how she got swept up with what everyone else wanted for her life and how it became “just what we [Eddie and Dani] were doing”, as she “didn’t want to hurt you [Eddie], or your mom, or your family”.

It’s also notable that Eddie, Eddie’s mother and Dani’s mother all call Dani, “Danielle”, rather than Dani. Knowing that these people in Dani’s past all used to call her Danielle, shows us another way in which Dani was trying separate herself from her past and escape what happened, by choosing herself to go by the name Dani rather than the name that she was called throughout her childhood.

Between Dani and Danielle, Danielle is also the more feminine version of the name. It’s apparent from all the flashback scenes of Dani, that she also used to dress much more femininely when she was with Eddie - in lots of dresses and feminine colours. Whereas in the present, she dresses mostly in jeans and t-shirts, and in more darker colours. Although she still dresses quite femininely, she doesn’t dress in nearly as much of a stereotypically ‘girly’ way as she used to. And so in a similar vein, it makes sense that she would choose to be known by the less feminine version of her name, as she becomes more of the person that she wants to be and caring less of how she thinks that she ought to appear.

During the dancing at the engagement party, ‘Higher Love’ by Steve Winwood is playing, and we hear the lyrics “bring me a higher love” repeated. Through the song lyrics we can see Dani’s own internal thoughts and wishes reflected. She does love Eddie, as she tells him later on in the episode that “I love you, so much, even still”. In spite of this, we can see from her expression throughout the party that she still feels like there is something missing between them, which is stopping her from feeling a “higher love” and is something that she wants to have.

We also get a very subtle hint that there was more than likely some homophobia amongst those that Dani knew in her adolescence. At the party Eddie’s mother brings out an old dress of hers to give to Dani and tells her that she doesn’t “think this would suit any of them. Well, maybe Carson”. Although this comment isn’t necessarily directly malicious, there is still the underlying tone that Eddie’s mother has the opinion that her son Carson would be the only one to suit her dress because he is a bit effeminate - despite it being a passing comment of Eddie’s mother’s, there is still a negative and unaccepting air to what she says. In some ways, these sorts of little comments would have been even more impactful towards Dani feeding her desire to repress herself, as although it isn’t being said aggressively, there is still a constant disapproval below the surface.

Back in the present, Jamie returns from Owen’s mother’s funeral. Dani catches herself staring at Jamie as she is taking off her earrings, and so she quickly looks down and turns away to the kitchen sink. Here we see Eddie’s spectre actually make physical contact with Dani as his hand touches her waist. Just as in Episode 3, the increasingly frightening and aggressive visions of Eddie’s spectre shows us that Dani’s feelings for Jamie are becoming much stronger.

After Owen returns from the funeral himself, they all have dinner and Flora says to him that when her parents died “I thought I was going to die too. I was sure of it, but then I thought what if I was already dead but nobody else knew, and I was walking around dead. But everybody could see and hear me, that was dreadful”. Just as Flora starts to say this, we get a shot of Hannah as she listens. This is another detail that is easily missed on a first viewing but was actually another clue that Hannah is dead, as Flora being concerned that she “was already dead but nobody else knew” is what is currently happening to Hannah.

After Miles causes a scene at dinner by asking for some wine, Dani sends the children up to bed. Dani looks into Flora’s dollhouse and we can see that Rebecca is in the room with her and Flora, as Rebecca’s doll is in the equivalent spot in the dollhouse. But we can also see that Peter’s doll is right next to Miles’ in the dollhouse, which is another clue that Peter had just been in possession of Miles’ body and so this is why he acted up at dinner.

Back in the past we see the evening that Dani broke off her engagement to Eddie. They’re having a meal at a restaurant, to separate themselves from the stress of wedding planning, and Eddie tells Dani to stop biting her fingernails because he says “you’re gonna hurt yourself”. Similarly, earlier in the episode, Eddie’s mother tells Dani “you always spot the kids that need you the most. You’d better take care of yourself as well, you know. Save them all if you can, but put your own oxygen mask on first”, and Dani tells her that “Edmund says the same thing, all the time”.

Although Eddie is trying to be caring towards Dani, by telling her to stop biting her nails and to look after herself before her students, he’s not really taking into consideration what Dani wants to do, and in a way he’s smothering her instead. Dani told Henry in Episode 1 that she wants to try to “make real difference” by helping her students, and so we know that her job is very fulfilling for her. However, Eddie trying to protect Dani by telling her to concentrate more on herself before the children, which tells us that although he might have good intentions, he isn’t really understanding or considerate of the importance that she believes that her work does for others.

In the present, while Jamie, Dani, Hannah and Owen are all sitting by the fire, Jamie says that in the “really old days” people used to use bonfires to “toss in offerings to drive away evil spirits, old bones mostly”. Jamie continues to say that you have to “build a pile of old bones and burn away the shadows. Because from here on in, the shadows get deeper, the nights get longer. We’re heading into the dark and we have to hang onto each other, so we can only carry so much”.

Jamie saying this, is where Dani gets the idea to burn Eddie’s glasses at the end of the episode. Dani has been keeping Eddie’s old glasses, which are like his “old bones”; but after hearing Jamie say this, she knows that she has to rid herself of the guilt because she can’t keep “heading into the dark”. So when Dani’s finally had enough of his spectre preventing her from advancing her relationship with Jamie, she decides to burn the glasses to “drive away [his] evil spirits”.

It’s also noticeable that Jamie says you have to burn the “old bones” to “burn away the shadows”, as most of the times when Eddie’s spectre appears to Dani, he looks like her shadow. Except for the end of Episode 3 and the end of this episode, Eddie’s spectre always appears to Dani shrouded in darkness and looming behind her, just like an inescapable shadow.

Another significant thing is Dani’s covering of the mirrors to stop herself from seeing Eddie. Eddie’s spectre appearing in the mirror is not just showing us a reflection of Dani’s own guilt, as when she looks at her reflection she doesn’t just see herself but she also sees the guilt of what she’s done as well. The connection between mirrors and death actually dates at least as far back as ancient Roman and Greek times. It’s believed in many cultures that souls of the dead can linger in mirrors, that the dead can harm the living through mirrors and just general ideas that mirrors or reflective surfaces were sorts of portals between the realms of the living and the dead.

Some old Irish beliefs even say that if you look in a mirror for long enough, you will see the devil behind your shoulder - which is exactly the type of thing that is happening to Dani, when she looks in a mirror she sees Eddie behind her shoulder. This link between mirrors and the dead means that it’s traditionally customary that mirrors are covered after a death, to prevent any souls entering or other bad things relate to death occurring. So Dani covering the mirror, either when Eddie appears or as a preventative measure, doesn’t just stop her from seeing him but it might also be a way of her trying to stop him crossing over or getting closer to her (which he does start to do when he stands in front of her in Episode 3).

During the bonfire, Dani and Jamie separate themselves from Hannah and Owen, and they go to sit in the greenhouse. Dani tells Jamie about seeing Eddie’s spectre and afterwards she says that “I’ve never told anybody that”. Dani choosing to confide in Jamie like this shows us how much she trusts Jamie, to make herself vulnerable and tell her something so deeply personal that she’s “never told anybody”.

However, more importantly, we see how Jamie has earnt and is deserving of the trust that Dani puts in her. Dani asks Jamie, “think I’m crazy?” - something that she might think she is herself sometimes - and through this question she gives Jamie the perfect opportunity to judge her, and make her feel ashamed or embarrassed for what she’s just said. But just like the way in which Jamie dealt with Dani’s panic attack in Episode 2, she doesn’t pass any judgment at all and instead even downplays what Dani says by telling her “I think you’re surprisingly sane, considering”.

It’s this complete acceptance that Dani gets from Jamie, after Dani reveals her one vulnerability that she thinks would make Jamie think she’s crazy and push her away, which prompts Dani to finally act on her feelings and kiss her - Dani has finally found someone, probably the first person ever, who knows her completely (both the good and the bad) but still accepts her and cares for her for who she is.

Finally at the end of the episode, Dani takes Eddie’s glasses out to the bonfire and burns them. Eddie’s spectre appears before her, just like at the end of Episode 3 and she screamed in terror at seeing him. However, unlike in the last episode, this time Dani isn’t afraid, but instead she stares at Eddie face to face as she confronts him. Rather than being constantly pursued the guilt, and the spectre that follows along with that guilt, she stops running and instead comes to a sort of acceptance of what happened to Eddie. Since she is ready to let go, accept what happened in her past, and move on, Dani is never haunted by Eddie’s spectre after this night.

You can read my previous The Haunting of Bly Manor posts here:-

Episode 1 - The Great Good Place

Episode 2 - The Pupil

Episode 3 - The Two Faces, Part One

Episode 5 - The Altar of the Dead

Episode 6 - The Jolly Corner

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renaerys · 4 years ago

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PPG One-Shot: Alone Together (Brick/Blossom)

This is a ten-years-later sequel to Beyond This Morning (BTM). It’s not the official sequel; it just takes place in the same universe. You do not have to have read BTM to fully enjoy this, but it rewards you if you have.

This one is for Carrie. Not only is she an awesome friend and a stalwart enabler, but she also did a very entertaining live reading of BTM and I owe her, like, a lot. Shoutout to the IG squad too. Y’all are the best fandom ever, period. Have a spicy Reds cookie on me with a side of family shenanigans. ��

***Also posted on my AO3.***

xxx

The night was gold dust and gossamer, the liquor an oak barrel scotch neat, and Blossom had nothing but time. She savored the smoke as the swallowed her scotch and smiled at her reflection in the mirror behind the cherrywood bar. The amber lamplight softened her long red hair, and the liquor’s burn made her pink eyes glisten with a liminal haze in between sensual and soporific. Even the patrons’ voices were nothing but a heady hypnosis far away and standing guard between her and the chaotic world beyond. She could hardly remember what peace and quiet felt like, and she’d sooner be drunk on this serenity than the Lagavulin.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Blossom’s stomach clenched at the sound of that mellifluous voice directly behind her. His body heat radiated like an active volcano: simmering and still right now, but not for long. “I was,” she quipped.

A slim body slipped into the barstool next to hers. The tailored suit did him every favor, as did the rare lack of a tie that allowed for a more lax treatment of his shirt buttons. Liquid crimson eyes held her in his crosshairs, and she froze.

“Blossom,” he said, setting his own drink on the bar with an air of permanence.

“Brick.” The scotch burned Blossom’s throat going down, but not hot enough.

His grin betrayed a hint of teeth, white and sharp.

“Can I get you anything?” the attractive bartender asked Blossom.

“You can bring him another,” she said.

“I’ll take a glass of the Bordeaux.” Brick pushed his empty tumbler toward the bartender.

“Of course.” The bartender cleared the old glass, and neither Brick nor Blossom spared him a glance.

“How about now?” Brick asked while the bartender disappeared to retrieve his wine.

Blossom’s eyes lingered on the styled bangs that hung in his heartbreaking eyes. “I’ll let you know.”

The bartender returned with Brick’s wine and left them alone to their universe. His adroit fingers held the wine glass’ delicate stem with intention and care as he swirled it. Blossom bit her lip.

“What brings you here?” he asked like he didn’t care even as his gaze trailed down the plunging neckline of her little black dress.

She grasped his chin and lifted his gaze to hers with a sly smile. “Rare night off.”

His eyes burned as she dragged her thumb over his bottom lip, and when she tried to pull away, he caught her wrist. “Lucky me.”

“That’s presumptuous.”

He laughed, and she felt it in every buzzing cell in her body. “Liar.”

This close, Blossom could smell his cologne. Just when she thought he might come closer though, he released her and went back to his wine like it was the most interesting thing in this bar. Despite herself, she twirled a tress of hair around her finger and silently counted to five while she waited for her heartbeat to return to normal.

“What about you?” she asked, returning to her drink. “What brings you out tonight?”

He grinned as he took a savoring sip of wine. In the warm jeweled lighting, the few threads of grey in his burnished copper hair gleamed silver. “Apparently, I’m turning 40.”

“And this is how you’re celebrating? Drinking alone at a bar?”

“Looks like it.”

Blossom ignored the way his eyes lingered on her profile. “What about your brothers?”

“Probably at home with their families. Married with kids, you know how it goes.”

“Mm. I’m drinking alone at a bar too.”

“Right, a rare night off, you mentioned.”

Blossom ran her finger over the rim of his wine glass. Tiny frostlings crept down the glass like ivy. “Well, then,” she said, plucking the glass out of his hand and taking a full sip of the chilled wine, “I suppose we’re alone together.”

Brick’s thumb at the corner of her mouth was so warm she gasped. It was gone as soon as it had appeared, and the drop of wine he’d caught along with it. Blossom watched as he brought the digit to his mouth and licked it clean.

“I suppose we are,” he said, breaking the hypnotic pull.

Blossom flushed. She supposed she deserved that one.

“Can I get you two anything else?” the bartender asked politely.

Blossom flashed him a curt smile. “No, thank you. I’ve had enough for one night. Please send the bill to my room.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She got up and gathered her clutch and phone. The entire time, Brick watched her like she might catch fire if he looked away.

“Brick,” she said primly.

“Blossom,” he returned. “Turning in?”

“It’s late.”

He ran his finger over the rim of his wine glass, and the frost vines evaporated under his touch. “Is it? I lost track of the time.”

“Well, you still have a couple hours left of your birthday. I’m sure you’ll find some way to enjoy them.”

“I’m sure I will.”

With that, she left him to his wine and headed for the elevator that would take her to the topmost floor, where she had rented a room for the evening. A honeymooning couple giggled as they dashed into the elevator after her, holding hands and dolled up to the nines as they whispered to each other and completely ignored Blossom. She smiled and moved to the far corner to give them some space.

But before the doors closed, a hand shot in between them and forced them back open. Brick sauntered into the elevator and perched against the back wall next to Blossom, but he didn’t say a word or even look at her. In his defense, the young couple making out like it was their last night on Earth commanded attention. Their soft giggles and sweet words reached Blossom’s Super hearing, and she bit her tongue not to laugh.

Finally, after nearly thirty floors, the doors opened and the honeymooners flooded out, nearly tripping over their skirts as they stumbled down the hall to their room and fumbled for the key rather poorly. Blossom followed them out, and Brick followed her at a sedate pace.

“Young love,” she quipped as she arrived at her room at the end of the hall.

“Disgusting,” Brick said.

“Now who’s the liar?” She opened the door on the first try as the honeymooners’ laughter grew louder in their repeated failed attempts.

Before she could push the door open, Brick’s hand closed over hers on the knob. Warm lips pressed against the shell of her ear, and she shivered. “Caught me.”

Blossom couldn’t hide her smile anymore and yanked him inside with a burst of Super strength that sent him crashing into the wall with a crack. She pinned him by the wrists before he could move and pressed herself flush against him. “Damn right I did.”

He came alive when she kissed him. Red sparks jumped in between them as he pushed back against her, but she didn’t offer an inch as she shackled him to the wall and held him there for her pleasure for a few glorious seconds. A low growl was her only warning before he got serious and used his explosive Super strength against her. Blossom gasped when her back met the opposite wall.

“We used to be like them,” he said, his voice husky with their kiss and their power.

“You and I?” Blossom ran her hands over his face, in his soft hair she loved even more with its silver veins. “We’re not like anyone.”

Like a struck match, Brick ignited above her and kissed her hard. Her hands fumbled at his belt as he slid her underwear down and off beneath her black skirt. They didn’t even bother with the rest, too intoxicated with the night and the memories and each other to waste another minute. Super or not, there was something incredibly hot about how he could lift her up with his bare hands and hold her there against the wall as he fucked her like they were ten years younger and just as desperate for each other.

“You’re goddamn right we’re not,” Brick said as he pushed in deeper. “Fuck, Blossom—”

The plaster cracked behind her, and it went straight to her core as she tightened her grip around his narrow waist and yanked his hair back so she could kiss him properly.

“You want me,” she said, breathy and crumbling with every move he made.

“Yes,” he moaned against her lips.

“You love me—ah!”

He bit her bottom lip hard, the cheater. “More than anything.”

Blossom whimpered as he held her just right to melt in his arms. Ecstasy: every moment, every touch, every Earth shattering push. He knew her precipice so well it was nothing to plunge her over it and catch her as she fell. With a shudder, she kissed his ear, his temple, his mouth. “You chose me.”

Heat seared her thighs where he held her, and his gorgeous eyes held hers at the expense of all others. “You’re my wife,” he said.

Blossom’s pride flared at that spell in his voice, as powerful as the first time he had ever cast it, and she rewarded him with a clenching embrace that broke him. With a muffled cry, he buried his face in her neck and bit down as he came. The air shimmered around them, Super heated, and Blossom summoned frost to her lips and fingertips as she threaded them through his hair and whispered softly.

After a few moments, his grip loosened and she slipped back to the floor still in her strappy heels. She appraised the entrance to their hotel room: a wrecking ball may have checked in for the night in their stead. “We didn’t even make it past the threshold.”

His laugh came out more like a wheeze as he fixed his pants and leaned one arm on the cracked wall to catch his breath. “Your act worked a little too well on me.”

“The role-play was your idea.”

His gazed trailed down her figure. “No wonder it was perfect.”

Blossom ran her hand over his chest, damp with sweat. One by one, she popped the buttons off his red dress shirt. “Satisfied already?”

With every button she popped off, his face slackened as the afterglow faded and his desire for her returned with a vengeance. Blossom fought the urge to squirm under his heady gaze.

“That sounded like a challenge,” he said, physically straining not to grab her.

The last button was off, and Blossom ran her palms over his smooth skin to shoulders, pushing the shirt and his blazer off. “You know me so well.”

Before he could respond, she had his shirt off and flew him across the room in a blaze of pink, where he hit the bed with a whoosh. For as long as she lived, Blossom was sure she would never get tired of the absolute high she felt looming over her husband about to have her wicked way with him, and the unadulterated passion and pride with which he watched her doing it.

She pulled the tie out of her hair and let it tumble over her shoulder. Slowly, the straps of her dress slipped off, leaving her bare from the waist up. “Happy birthday, Brick.”

It was a miracle the guests in the room below theirs didn’t file a complaint with the front desk when the bed gave out.

xxx

Brick pulled his black Aston Martin into the circular driveway of Princess Morbucks’ seaside vacation home on the Sonoma coast. He cut the engine and sat there as Blossom finished texting a work email on her phone. When he didn’t budge, she put her phone away and looked at him quizzically.

“Brick?”

He sighed and leaned his head back against the black leather rest. “Do we have to go in there?”

Her fingers through his linen shirt were cool to the touch, and he repressed a shiver as she leaned close. “Are you pouting?”

There was a smile in her voice that he chose to ignore and grabbed her wrist. “Don’t tease me right now.”

She smiled for real and kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry. You know I love you.”

“And yet, here we are.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s my birthday weekend.”

“And the weekend is nearly over. Hey.” She touched his face and turned him toward her. “Are you okay?”

He searched her eyes for any hint of a ploy, but he found none. They were such a lovely shade of rose, unlike anything he had ever seen on another person, and they were honest. She had always afforded him her honesty since they became reacquainted, and for that, he would have given her anything she wanted. “I miss this,” he said, letting her see a glimmer of the vulnerability he was sadly so good at keeping under lock and key.

“What do you miss?” she asked.

“Us. Time. Our time. One weekend isn’t enough. We shouldn’t need some excuse to take off.”

She looked at him like she really heard him, but before she could respond, something Super-powered and little girl-sized hit the driver’s side window.

“Daddy! You’re back!”

Brick nearly jumped out of his own skin and coughed up smoke. Blossom was out the passenger side door faster than the naked eye could see, and she quickly yet carefully peeled her five-year-old daughter off the side of Brick’s beloved car.

“Hey, no hello for me, Briar?” Blossom hiked Briar up on her hip, and Briar blinked dark scarlet eyes far too savvy for her age.

“Maaaaaybe,” she said, aloof.

“Oh, I see how it is. Then I’ll just have to give you a big frosty kiss!”

Brick got out of his car and watched his grown-ass wife and mother of his children stoop to a five-year-old’s level and blow an icy raspberry on Briar’s neck, freezing half of her solid. Briar squealed in surprise or delight and leaped out of Blossom’s arms. She bent the ice off her skin to gather in her hands, and blew out even more with each peal of laughter as she began launching Super snowballs at Blossom.

Brick caught one that went awry in his bare hand before it could smack into his car, and it evaporated to steam almost instantly under his infernal power. “Briar, where’s your brother—oof!”

He got an armful of little girl wrapped up in a rose-red blur for his complacency and fell back on his ass. Instinct and old habits stoked furious fire in his lungs, but it fizzled to nothing as his daughter laughed and plied him with kisses, smearing pink lipstick all over his cheeks and chin.

“What the hell are you wearing?” he demanded. “Is that a tiara?”

“You bet your grumpy old ass it is.” Princess emerged from the house looking far too fabulous for a Sunday afternoon at home. “Swarovski crystal. You like?”

“I like!” Briar chimed in.

Blossom grinned. “She does look fabulous.”

Princess flipped her stupidly luscious hair. “In this house, every girl is a princess. I should know.”

Unfortunately, Blossom found that funny and laughed along with Princess. As convenient as it was that his best friend and his wife had become as thick as thieves over the years, it often resulted in a battle of the sexes that saw him giving up far too much ground to the both of them. Some wars, however, were not worth fighting. Not when they both looked at him like he’d won something by picking himself off the ground with Briar tucked under his arm like a Corgi.

“Oh Brick, that’s a great color on you,” Princess gushed. “Pink is the new black.”

“Please, pink never went out of style.” Blossom winked coyly at Brick, and his pathetic heart beat a little bit faster.

“God, you’re so right,” Princess said. “Listen to your mom, Briar. She’s the smartest person I know, and that’s saying something.”

Case in point, some wars were not worth fighting. Brick ignored the playful jab and wiped the pink lipstick smears off his face.

“Daddyyyyyy,” Briar whined.

“Don’t ‘Daddy’ me, Briar,” Brick said. But he took one look at her big scarlet eyes and her cute ponytail she insisted on growing out because she wanted to be as pretty as Mommy and Mommy was the prettiest girl in the whole world (which, true), and he caved like a bendy straw. “Fine.”

“Yes!” Briar flew out of his hold and plopped down on his shoulders like a queen on her throne, and Brick held her in place by her ankles.

“Oh, cheers, Briar.” Princess raised her wine glass to no one at all and took a satisfied sip.

“Hey, where’s Blaze?” Blossom asked.

“Who?” Princess said.

“Ha ha. Please tell me he didn’t burn anything down this time.”

Princess waved her off and headed back inside. “He’s fine, don’t worry. But he didn’t want me to dress him up for some totally insane reason. Am I right, Briar?”

“You’re always right, Aunt Prin!”

Brick rolled his eyes so hard he could see his brain short-circuiting in his skull. “Jesus Christ, what have I done.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you managed to make an impeccable daughter,” Princess quipped.

“Nope, that one’s on me,” Blossom said.

They laughed again, and Brick felt the small part of his soul that wasn’t bonded to Blossom’s wither and die.

“This way, Daddy.” Briar tugged on his perfectly styled hair to steer him left once they were past the foyer, and Brick automatically changed course.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “Did you have a good time with Aunt Princess?”

“Uh-huh!”

“How many new clothes did she buy you?”

“Um, this many?” Briar waggled all ten of her fingers in his face.

“Cool,” he said.

Not cool.

Princess was single-handedly turning his children into fashion-forward little snobs. And while Brick would never abide any child of his looking like some snot-nosed, slobbering baby, a part of him worried whether he and Blossom were spoiling them too much. Blossom insisted it was fine so long as the gifts came from Princess and not from them, and they learned how to say thank you and pick only a few to keep from the vast collection so the rest could go to charity, so maybe it really was fine. He wouldn’t know, having never received much from his own father growing up, let alone a cool rich aunt.

In the living room, a skinny eight-year-old boy wearing a red baseball cap too big for his head slept on the leather sofa with his back to Brick and Briar when they entered. Brick checked behind him for any sign of Blossom, but she was obliviously chattering away in the kitchen with Princess, probably indulging in a glass of that rosé Princess had been drinking. Briar had fallen very quiet on his shoulders, and he squeezed her ankles conspiratorially.

Heat churned in Brick’s lungs, gathered pressure in his cheeks, and burst from his lips in a tight ball. His sleeping son’s arm shot up and caught the ball of fire before it could hit him in the back and incinerate the sofa. Briar whined in disappointment, like she’d wanted to see her big brother’s pants catch on fire.

“Hi, Dad.”

“It’s four in the afternoon, Blaze,” Brick said. “Why the hell are you sleeping?”

Blaze snuffed out the fireball and turned over on the sofa with a lazy yawn. He pulled off his cap that used to be Brick’s, scratched his short red hair, and slipped it on again backwards. Pretty, almost feminine fuchsia eyes blinked blearily up at his father and little sister towering over him.

“Aunt Prin made me heat up the pool this morning,” he said.

Of course she fucking would.

Leave it to Princess to choose swimming in an unheated pool over the goddamned ocean that was literally her backyard on a whim and putting his pyromantic son to work.

“Did she pay you?” Brick asked.

Blaze shrugged. “Nah. But she promised me a favor. Anything I want.”

Brick cracked a smile. “Well played.”

He was learning fast. Perhaps too fast. Oh well—he was Blossom’s son; she would have to deal with him when the time came.

A loud bark of laughter from the kitchen preceded a sharp and rather chilly tug on Brick’s hair. “What’s so funny?” Briar asked.

Brick took a deep breath and tried not to think about the damage his daughter’s ice powers were doing to his hair. “Let’s find out. Blaze, get your ass off that couch.”

Blaze got up with minimal grumbling, and Briar leaped from Brick’s shoulders to his. “Sleepy head!”

Blaze scrunched up his freckled face in a way that made him look his very young age despite all his best efforts. “Briar, quit it!”

“Make me!”

“I will.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yes-huh!”

“Nuh-uhhhhh!” Briar hugged him tight and burst with frost.

“My hair!” Blaze flashed fuchsia in a panic and shimmering heat rose from his shoulders, melting Briar’s ice. She laughed and took off flying, and he was quick to follow. “Get back here!”

Brick considered stopping them, decided it one hundred percent wasn’t his problem, and headed to the kitchen to grab a glass of Princess’ wine.

“Did you find Blaze?” Blossom asked when Brick entered the enormous marble kitchen.

Brick opened his mouth to respond when Briar and Blaze blasted into the kitchen in a burst of scarlet and fuchsia. Blossom dissolved in a blur of cotton candy pink and reappeared with two tiny Supers in each hand dangling from their collars.

“She started it!” Blaze exclaimed at the same time as Briar said, “He started it!”

“And I’m ending it,” Blossom said in a tone that brooked no argument. She looked between her two children, contrite and expecting her punishment.

Blaze looked to Brick for a lifeline, but he held his son’s gaze with unwavering indifference: if he was going to fuck around like a little baby, then he would be treated like a little baby.

“What do you say?” Blossom asked.

“Sorry,” Briar muttered.

Blaze wiped his nose. “Yeah, sorry Mom. Sorry Aunt Prin. We didn’t mean to almost wreck your house.”

Princess shrugged. “Whatever, kid.”

Brick shot her a withering look. “Really, though?”

Princess poured herself more wine.

Blossom caved like the sap she was and hugged her children close, showering them both with kisses. “I missed you guys!”

Blaze and Briar bravely put up with their mother’s effusive love for a few seconds until she put them down.

“Do you have something to say to your father?” Blossom asked.

Both Blaze and Briar beamed at Brick, and he repressed a cringe. “Happy birthday, Dad!” they said in creepy-cute unison.

Brick took one look at them and grabbed Princess’ arm. “Princess.”

“Say no more.” Princess poured him a generous glass of wine. Unfortunately, she also looped her arm around his and hugged him. “Happy birthday, hot stuff.”

“Kill me.” Brick downed his wine.

“You are so dramatic. Runs in the family, obviously,” Princess said. She kissed his cheek and wiped her red lipstick off after.

They hung out in the kitchen drinking wine while Blaze and Briar entertained themselves talking Blossom’s ear off about every single thing they did this long weekend. Like a champ, she listened and enthusiastically responded to it all, while Brick sighed and thanked whatever gods didn’t exist for the gift of wine and Princess.

When eventually Blaze climbed onto Brick’s lap and fell asleep again, Blossom decided it was time to leave. Brick carefully shoveled Blaze and Briar into the backseat of his Aston Martin and buckled them up. “Keep your shit under control,” he warned them.

Briar beamed. Her energy knew no limits. “Okay, Daddy!”

Blaze crossed his arms and promptly went back to sleep without a care in the world.

It took another ten minutes to pry Blossom away from Princess as they embraced and confessed their undying love for each other and, like, almost made out probably because there was nothing in the world better than a positive female friendship, as Blossom was fond of reminding him.

By the time they arrived at their suburban Citiesville home, Blaze and Briar were passed out cold. Once Brick and Blossom put them to bed, they sat together in the living room with a blanket between them.

“Hey,” Blossom said as she leaned against his side on the sofa admiring the garden through their floor to ceiling windows, “do you want to continue what we were talking about earlier? About there not being enough time for us?”

Brick sipped his wine. He had an arm around Blossom, and he could smell her perfume. “Not really.”

“Okay.”

They lapsed into silence for a bit, and Brick squeezed her shoulder. She said nothing. He shifted under the blanket. “I mean, I’m just saying.”

“Saying what?”

He scowled and ran a hand through his hair. Her stony gaze made him shiver. “I love them.”

“I know you do.”

“I would die for them.”

“I know you would.”

Brick gritted his teeth and looked her in the eye. “I’d die for you too.”

She touched his cheek and waited for him to meet her gaze. “You’ll never have to.”

“I know. You’re stronger than that.”

She held her breath and he held her. There were memories here, history, a trust they had bled for to earn. But he knew she meant it and so did he, and that was everything. He shuddered, weak like he never was with anyone but her.

“Yeah, I am,” Blossom said. “Hey.” She took his hand in hers and kissed his knuckles. “We have time. You have me. I love you so much, I can’t even catch my breath.”

“I know you do,” he said, his throat constricting.

“And if you want to take more time for us, we can do that. You just have to talk to me.”

“You’re busy, and the kids…”

Her fingers in his hair were a cool balm. He pressed his forehead against hers. “I’m not too busy for you. I love you, Brick.”

Her confession always floored him, no matter how many times she gave it. When he kissed her, she was soft and cool, and she kissed him back. “Let’s do it, then. Take more time. Not because it’s my birthday, but just because.”

“Okay. I’d like that.”

“Princess can take them.”

“Princess spoils them.”

“Who gives a fuck?”

Blossom laughed. “I do. Don’t be an ass.”

“Well, we need a nanny or something. Boomer and Bubbles can do it.”

“Boomer and Bubbles have their own kids.”

“So they have experience.”

Blossom laughed again and snuggled closer to him. “You’re terrible.”

“I’m right.”

Blossom sighed dramatically and buried her face in his chest. “I guess you are.”

He grinned and held her close. She smelled like lavender when he kissed her head. “Blossom.”

She smiled and snaked her hand around his neck. “Brick.”

When he kissed her, he gave her all of himself. How could he have lived for so long without her to share everything with? What would be the point?

“What do you think about the Seychelles?” Blossom asked.

“Hm?”

“We could go diving, lie on the beach, you know. Just…away.”

He pictured it: Blossom in a bikini on the white sand, greeting the sunset with champagne, or under the sea SCUBA diving with creatures most people could never even fathom in their lives. And he smiled. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

She kissed him softly, and she held his entire heart in her hands. “It’s a date.”

They spent the rest of the night in each others’ arms, alone together, and Brick couldn’t remember a better birthday in all his life.

xxx

Thanks for reading!

***Trinity House is now live on AO3! Check out that fic if you enjoy my writing and want more PPG content. I hope to see you all there!***

#Blossick #Reds #Blossom #Brick #Princess Morbucks #Powerpuff Girls #Powerpuff Girls fanfic #I love this universe so much #expect more in this playground from me!#maybe I'll do Greens at some point :)

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iamtheempress · 4 years ago

Text

A Vegeta x OC Fanfiction (part 3)¤ ¤ ¤

Many things ran through her mind and all she could think was, abit of excitement! Something to prove herself and show her worth, that shes not just some pretty piece to hang onto the emperor's arm, she pushes the button on the wall and the door to the Saiyan chambers and comes face to face with Nappa out of his armor. “Calamatta! Was just wondering why it took you so long to get back!” He smiled down at her and rubbed his hand over his bald scalp.

The sliding door shut and they both walked side by side in tandem, Calamatta walked abit faster to keep pace with Nappa. “Did Vegeta tell you about the mission?” “Briefly! He didnt look too happy about it.. What gives.” She gets to her room and she sighs a bit anticipatory for this month long excursion made extermination mission.

“Vegeta and I are to go to this one super planet… to completely wipe within a month but its just the both of us.” Nappa blinks and shakes his head Raising his eyebrow his eyebrow looking down at the small Saiyan. “Are you serious? Dont get me wrong your great at conquering planets entirely, but… what happens if you dont.” Calamatta looks away from Nappa and her tail deflates to the floor. “I...Dont know..” She answers. At the end of the day, Saiyan or not shes terrified of what could happen, the last thing she wants is to have everything come crashing down all because of her.

Nappa stood up straight and pat her on the shoulder and startled her straight out of her stupor, grinning. “hey now! Where's that pride you had in you earlier!? Dont you get down on yourself now that your life's on the line!" She gawped at him and shook her head. "What do you-" "What i mean is when you start facing something dire, you gotta pull your head out of your ass and charge forward!!" He bellows to her, Raditz shuffled over to her and pat her shoulder. Both of them looking down upon her. "Listen to Nappa. Hes got experience on all of us.. and you're a killer. Youll realize that when you get to To-Rot."

Calamatta nodded and smiled hopefully for the first time in a while. Actual hope. Actual excitement! "Thank you Nappa." "AHEM" Calamatta rolled her eyes and punched Raditz in the arm. "Yea yea thank you too Raditz…" she turned and went into her room, holding her suit up she twitched and groaned. "Your fucking with me…" her tail deflated to thw floor.

She put the suit on and goddamn did she think of herself as some kind of joke, she knows she's shapely but this is egregious. A form fitting blue bodysuit bikini type briefs and short sleeves to her elbow, the new armor covered her chest in a more shapely manner than the men. She rolled her eyes shamelessly, checked herself out in the mirror and pulled up her boots and jumped upon hearing hard pounding on the door. "Calamatta? You decent?"

It was Vegeta

"I mean yea." The door slid open and he was focused on the holopad in his hand to notice what she looked like "dinner is ready. Get out of your room and ……." He had to do a double take and it kinda made her sneer "its the… new suit Lord Frieza wants me to wear." He made a disgusted face and turned his head "W-whatever just come out so we can eat and you can turn in…" he turned fully and the prince blushed a tiny bit.

Calamatta followed side by side with him and he kept with all his might to keep his eyes forward. "A-are you serious.. they made you wear th-" "yeap.. trust me it's uncomfortable to walk around in." she kept her eyes forward heading to the table with Nappa and Raditz who both simultaneously dropped their food. "Nice costume change! You can see those killer legs!" Nappa barked, bringing alittle attention to the small Saiyan and making her face red as hell. "Nappa, i'm pretty sure she wants to be wall paper at this point." Raditz kicked his shin and pushed a plate over to her. "Eat up, Cala.." she groaned.

They spent their time sitting together all eating except Cala who earned some hoots and hollers. A degrading damn get up for a saiyan who wants to be seen for more then yarm candy to the fucking emperor.. her respect for him has dindled to 0 but she has to cater to him till the 20 hours are up.. she dejectedly pushes the rest of her food away "i cant eat anymore." She sat up and realized theres a chair flush against her back "no your gonna eat.." Raditz protests as he nudges her shoulder.. a big brother figure to the little saiyan.. she felt more comfortable near him, no matter how big a jackass he is. "No damn saiyan is going hungry because of whay they have to wear." He glares at her, and smirks.

Vegeta looks at her and leans back. "We will walk back with you to ensure you dont get any seedy looks." "Dontcha think thats pathetic" she said between bites. "Nonsense.. as the last woman of our kind you deserve alittle respect." Raditz protested, earning a curt nod from both Nappa and Vegeta.

Her mini family is small, its made up of men. But it's all she's got and she's got a hefty amount of respect for them all.

The four walked in tandem with one another Raditz and Calamatta leading the way and Nappa and Vegeta following.

"So does being a daughter of a general give you a leg up?" Raditz asked, tucking his hands behind his head, Calamatta walked with her hands folded in front of her, peering over at the tall long haired Saiyan. “I mean. Not entirely, same sort of treatment as everyone else here actually! Im just something pretty to gawk at while Lord Frieza does what he needs to.” Vegeta pipes up keeping his voice dead flat as he makes his point known. “If any race sees Frieza with a Saiyan at his side they’ll perceive him as a threat. Why do you think he has her within arms reach.. A warrior race reduced to a pet and something to look at is insulting but i cant necessarily blame her for not going after him.” He flippantly rolls his eyes. “I suppose your right… Calamatta is basically the next best thing to Vegeta.” “Hey now i'm not that great… i only went out once with yall.” She nudges Raditz and rolls her eyes.

The 4 were stopped in their tracks when Zarbon cut a corner and met with them, promptly making the tension between the four starkly apparent. “So apes travel in packs now? Hmhm.. Calamatta. Come. I wish to speak with you please.” The tall reptilian walked in the opposite direction of the saiyans, shoulder checking the Saiyan prince causing the vein in his forehead become more prominent, he crossed his arms and scoffed, raising his chin and moving forward. “Well go follow the vain bastard…” Vegeta growls and marches away. Calamatta turned on her heels and ran to catch up to him.

Zarbon had his hands behind his back beneath his cape, he chuckled upon seeing the short saiyan besides him. “Took you long enough, Calamatta.” “What is it you wanted to speak with me about Zarbon?” He ushers her into a room overlooking a massive planet, ripe with lush greenery and red deserts. “Thats the planet you and Vegeta are set to conquer. It has a high population density of 4 billion. What that document that Vegetas been analyzing doesnt mention the fact that the planet experiences a full moon every other day. The inhabitants will attack on sight… i should know weve sent 15 other squads before you and Vegeta.” Calamatta gawked at the planet then up to Zarbon. “Why are we just being sent then?” “I asked the same to Lord Frieza… He said he sees the prince of nothing as an excellent protege and this will prove Frieza right if one or the both of you return in one whole piece.” Calamatta looked over the two multi colored belts in the distance.. One bright white and the other red, absolutely magnificent and terrifying in retrospect. The magnitude of this entire planet was bigger then shes ever seen before.

While she was busy being thunderstruck she was caught off guard by a weighted cloth on her shoulder. Becoming strapped to her one shoulder followed by Zarbon cooing. “Its a shame Dodoria doesn't really like your acquaintance. You'd be beautiful as a General.” It caught her off guard as he adjusted it perfectly to her armor, the end of his long velvety cape dragged haphazardly on the floor.

“Dodoria… i never understood why he never liked me...what about you Zarbon? You have been so kind to me for years and you really don't have to be.” The green haired general tilted his head and sighed as he took two hair bands from his wrist and walked behind Calamatta and started to pull her hair back. “You're just a kid. You'll never understand the position Dodoria is in. He wants to be the general in the spotlight instead of you.”

Calamatta remained silent and allowed him to pull her hair into two large buns on her head, he pulled any fly aways out and reviewed her facial features in the reflective window. “I honestly could give a damn one way or another but on account of why I like you is purely because you're not like the rest of your ape-ish race.. You're pretty, you have a defined face and you have a way of carrying yourself with grace and poise… the amount of times i have heard other alien councils talk about how attractive you are adds to Lord Frieza's intimidation factor..A beautiful little warrior on his arm is a display of power... So yes he prefers you much more highly then the likes of Dodoria.” He pats her shoulders and she looks back at herself. She never puts her hair up so this is something new.

Two large pretty black buns on her head, loose fly aways of her hair make her look effortless, she could actually see her gold piercings on her ears. “You have plenty of hair so i couldnt put it all in one hair tie…” The hatch door to the side slid open, the two of them turn to see Lord Frieza seated in his chair, a small smile grew on his face as he saw Calamatta all dolled up.

“Well WELL my little monkey is playing dress up! OHohohohooo stunning.” Calamatta goes to disrobe the cape and is promptly stopped by Zarbon. “Keep it Calamatta. It suits you. Farewell.” He turns on his heel and saunters out of the room leaving her and the Emperor in this room. She bows respectfully to him, when she raises back up Frieza is out of his chair, tail fluttering around with his arms behind his back.

Calamatta gulped while Frieza analyzed her up close; both her and the emperor are easily the same height but the Saiyan knew her place to him. Behave and dont die. “I want you to take a good look at that planet right there. Realize that you and Vegeta are my star pupil...and that being the star pupil means that one of you two simians is the best!” He preens and moves the cape to see her hands held at her front, he smirks devilishly and tilts his head.

“That suit looks very nice on you, powerful shapely little legs for a warrior..” He raises his hand and makes a fist to emphasize the word power. Calamatta remains quiet and blushes alittle bit. “Thank you, Lord Frieza.. What exactly do you mean by the best..? I only helped out with one planet!” She stated only to be met with the steely flat stare of Frieza.

“What im saying is that i expect you to listen to what i say, woman…” She nodded obediently and her tail droops abit. “Yes Lord Frieza sorry..-” She was cut off almost instantly “Hush now Calamatta if you know whats good for you.” He states making little calamatta bite on her lips.

“Good.. Both of you are excellent but just so you know so you dont get a big head about it… Vegeta is the better of the two of you.. By lightyears infact.. I suspect that Zarbon told you that I plan on making Vegeta my protégé, I dont expect you to be any better than what you already are, your prince would possibly say the same of you… your untrained and unskilled in anything and i'm surprised you even came back alive and without a scratch, girl. The three other apes were to see you as useless and not want you anymore… not want you apart of their damned group.”

Calamatta looked upon Frieza disheartened, her stomach dropped to her feet and she felt like nothing, like her purpose was to be nothing more then a pretty face and nothing more, living a hollow existence. SHe felt ultimately like nothing. She twiddled her thumbs infront of her and drooped her head abit.

“Oh now now Calamatta.. No need to look so sad.. I'm just speaking the truth to you, child… Here i know a way of earning your trust. Give me your tail.” Her head shot up and she gulped. “My-my tail?” She shivered and let her long pretty fully groomed tail come from behind her back and with trepidation she handed her most sensitive-untrained limb- to Frieza.

"You stupid little runt…" The Emperor smirked and narrowed his eyes closing his fist tightly around the tail sending Calamatta to the floor with a pained cry and a beg. “L-Let it go please! Frieza please!!” SHe begged him feeling this hot pain rocket up her back as she looked at the emperors feet through pained tears.

Her head raised to be met with the end of Frieza’s pointer finger inches from her nose. "The prodigal prince is no where to be seen to protect you now.. oh woe is you.." The very one that death beams people without care. She panted heavily, started to sweat and tear up “W-Why I dont understa-”

Frieza’s voice became dark and grave, she feared Frieza but this was a side of him she had never seen first hand and to be directed at her. “Your life though as entertaining as it is.. Is forfeit to me. You only serve your worth as useful until I become bored of you and when I do you will die by my hand. You will come to realize that on To-Rot your life is just as forfeit to Vegeta as it is to me… Vegeta works alone, I know him better than anyone here, Calamatta. You will discover that when your need is used up and you're on the ground begging for help… he will gladly leave you to die… tragic isn't it…? To be worthless to everyone including your own races Prince…”

He furrowed his brow and stared her sadistically in her face and chuckled upon seeing a single tear. “I dont expect you to return after your little trip… should you return you can go with your little mates so they can ravage you.” He growled and released her tail making her tail disappear under the cape, she gasps and scrambles to her feet. “You are excused, Calamatta. Sleep well!” He turned on his lizard-like feet and left to his hoverpod. Leaving Calamatta frightened, depressed… and worthless.

She just wanted to go to bed. She just wanted to stop caring. She just wanted to feel like a Saiyan.

The day had drawn to a close and the 4 waved eachother off to wish each other a good night, Vegeta said nothing and returned to his room. The small saiyan lay down in her bed and fell asleep very quickly, a deep peaceful and relaxing sleep to ease her tense and tight muscles and weary emotional state.

5 hours later Vegeta opened her room door and walked right in like he belonged there. the prince being deep in thought and not really in any mood to fully wake Calamatta up. He sat at the end of her bed and looked through acouple files. That being the inhabitants of To-Rot.

An insatiably hungry and carnivorous race that wiped the original inhabitants of the planet by the guise of an infection which then grew into hunger then a form or zombified state where food is the only primary objective, while still maintaining full sentience they scour the planet for new victims to eat or to find other like minded groups and repopulate. Vegeta sneered and twitched at the sight.. both he and Calamatta wont be the first of the Frieza Force to go there, and meet an untimely demise. "Dammit.." he grunts and the female saiyan begins to stir sitting up in bed to see the spikey haired prince hunched over with his chin in his hand at the foot of rhe bed.

"Hm…? Vegeta.. what gives?" She yawned and gently kicked the princes back with her bare feet. "Read this.. brush up on what were going to face.. its not going to be easy. Especially with me doing all the heavy lifting." He growls and hands her the holo pad. "Hey.. i'm just as capable as you dont give me that crap when i just wake up, Vegeta..." "im not 'giving you crap' i'm being realistic and percautionary. The planet before hand wasn't that hard. This ones lethal and were not the firsts to go here" she pulls her tail under the covers of her blanket and rubs her eyes. Still very in a daze of sleep. "If you are tryna scare me im not scared. Well be fine and well do this planet and ill be with the 3 of yall." She reads over the holopad.

Feeling a sense of dread and nervousness bubble up in her stomach. "Dont pass that arrogance around so easily… its not just YOUR neck on the line here its mine. And i'm not willing to die because you end up being cocky." "Can you lighten up? Your the one that came into my room and looked pretty comfy at the end of my bed." She retorts to the prince who looks mighty taken aback by the implication hes looking comfy around her.

"Gah! Quit with your nonsensical babbling and take this seriously! Ugh.. just read that over.. ill be in my room. Ill see you in 5 hours, i need my sleep too." He goes to the door. "Vegeta, you haven't slept yet?" He stops before the button, confused as to what's with the change in tone, he turns his head and looks at her through his bangs that still hung in his face. "Please.. sleep for like.. a little longer than that. Ok? I need you as much as you need me" she asked and smiled softly, pressing her hand to her chest.

Vegeta scoffed and blushed from nose to the tips of his ears "worry about yourself, woman… go to sleep" the begrudging prince leaves and Cala smirks. Laying back and looking at the ceiling and sighing a tear ran down her cheek and she grit her teeth hard.

“Atleast he pretends to give a damn…” Calamatta sighed wearily. CUrling in on herself and letting herself fall back into her slumber.

¤ ¤ ¤

Tags: @memevember @dragonblobz @gonuclear @msgreenverse @fallen--lilith @jimbobslurpnchug @dragonballzforlife @nikabriefs @lilhemmo @lizardhipsdontlie @hierophantblue @supremeleadershitlord @thotful-writing @chickiedinner @anti-jaina @dragonball-hcs-or-sum-shit

#A Planet To Conquer Fic #Vegeta #Frieza #Calamatta~#Nappa #Raditz #intimidation tw #threats tw #depression tw #this part made me question my sanity #dbz fanfiction

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stanskzseungmin · 5 years ago

Text

BC ~ Corpse Party

Supernatural! + CorpseParty! AU

Genre: Angst, Horror

Trigger Warnings: Graphic descriptions of gore and death, Chan has a bit of a potty mouth oop-

Word Count: 4834

A/N: I took light inspirations from Corpse Party, but it isn't a direct retelling of the series. Credits to the original owners of Corpse Party for giving me inspiration for this imagining as well as credits for the character, Sachiko, and the Sachiko Ever After charm.

A/N 2: i actually tried to proofread this time (I know, shocking), but I got lazy and really want to get this one up lmao. So we kinda dying like men?

A/N 3: I suggest listening to the soundtrack as you read, but it's fine too if you don't.

Chan and you had always been close. You both grew up as next door neighbors. The two of you formed a fast friendship when your ball accidentally rolled over to your neighbor’s yard with it stopping by his feet. The dark haired boy with chubby cheeks looked at you with your red cherry ball within his hands. You had asked him if he wanted to play play along with a wide toothy smile that showed the gap in your teeth. You ran over the boundary to grab him by the wrist and the rest was history.

“Hey, short stuff. Are you ready to leave this hell hole?” Chan chuckled landing a light punch on your shoulder.

“You’re not going to be able to leave this hell hole if you don’t study for your final. I didn’t agree to stay after school to tutor you just for you to fool around,” you smiled back tossing a rolled up paper ball at him. The ball bouncing pathetically off his forehead, eliciting a “hey!” from him.

“Nu uh. You’re not tutoring me, I’m tutoring you,” Chan enunciated by pointing at himself then pointing at you.

“Dork,” Chan laughed at your remark. ”Chan, we’re tutoring each other on different subjects.”

“I can’t wait to go home, I’m pooped,” Chan exclaimed dramatically.

“Me too, but we’re stuck here until the storm ends,” you pointed your pen to the window with rain pattering against the glass as the night sky lit up with a loud thunderous boom.

“Ugh!” Chan leaned back in his chair and throwing his head back.

“Might as well to use this time to not procrastinate and squeeze in extra studying,” you suggested.

“But I don’t wanna~” Chan whined.

“What are you? 8?” you chuckled, shaking your head.

“Don’t you have any other ideas?” Chan sighed slumping over the table, sprawling his limbs over both your notes.

“I got one idea.”

“Do tell,” Chan sat up leaning his cheek on his hand.

“Do you have scissors?” you asked pulling out a sheet of paper.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Chan rummaged through his backpack for the school supply.

“Have you ever heard about the ’Sachiko Ever After’ charm?” you asked grabbing the scissors from his grasp.

“Mmm mmm,” Chan pressed his lips together as he shook his head.

“I read it on a blog online,” you started, cutting the paper into a doll shape. “It’s a charm that blesses people with eternal friendship.”

“Lame,“ Chan snorted.

“Rude,” you pouted.

“Hey, we’ll still be friends forever,” Chan smiled grabbing your hand gently shaking it softly. “So what is it?”

“Legend has it that years ago there was a school that was met with a tragedy. The school nurse died in a tragic accident: she fell down the stairs and her neck was deformed and bent out of shape. Allegedly her daughter, Sachiko, went missing that same night.”

“And this ensures eternal friendship how?” Chan inquired, his eyebrow quirking up. The room lit up as thunder boomed.

You shrugged as you cleaned up the shape of the paper doll. “They say that her spirit still wanders the earth and she has the ability to grant wishes. If you do the ‘Sachiko Ever After’ charm, her spirit will channel through and give her blessings for eternal friendship.”

“Cool,” Chan smiled. “So how do we do it?”

You held up the paper doll. “We need at least two people in order to do the charm. We both have to firmly grasp parts of this doll, then we chant ‘Sachiko, we beg of you.’ We have to do it in our head, one time for each person in the room. In our case, we have to chant it twice. Afterwards, we have to pull on the doll. Ideally, we keep the paper scrap on our person at all times.”

Thunder struck loudly as the room shook lightly.

Chan laughed. “This could be a sign? Sachiko doesn’t want us to be friends.”

“Very funny, Chan,” you responded sarcastically.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Chan grinned at you grabbing the doll’s legs with you grabbing the head.

“You ready?” you looked at him.

“Yeah,” Chan smiled.

‘Sachiko, we beg of you. Sachiko, we beg of you.’

Chan and you made eye contact and nodded to each other signifying you were done. With a firm grip, you both pulled on the doll, the paper ripping along the waist.

Lightning tore through the night sky as deafeningly loud thunder broke through the silence. The walls shook lightly as the lights flicker. The window shatters as the harsh winds force the tree branch that was tapping on the glass to break through.

“Wack,” Chan frowned, leaning over to his backpack to grab his wallet and slide his piece of paper into it with you doing the same to yours.

“So, now you’re stuck with me for eternity,” you giggled.

“Gasp. The horror!” Chan smiled as he grabbed the fabric of his shirt over where his heart is residing before throwing an arm around you to pull you into a hug.

You and Chan paused as the entire building shook. The tables moving along the vibrations. The lights were flickerings as books were shaken out of the book shelves.

“Earthquake!” Chan called out, reaching out to grab your shoulders to pull you down to the ground.

“Channie!” you called out, with panic laced in your voice.

“I’m here, I got you-”

The ground shook once more, this time the shaking was so much more forceful. You felt the vibrations stopping momentarily as the ground disappeared below you. Your heart skipped a beat and you and Chan stared at the dark abyss that suddenly appeared below you. Soon afterwards, both you and Chan starting falling into the darkness as a scream ripped out of your throat.

“Y/N!” Chan called out to you, reaching out to you. Your hands reach up to grab at his sleeves as he pulled you close to his body. “Don’t let go!”

That was the last thing you’ve heard before you were engulfed by the darkness.

You awaken (by Stray Kids) in an unfamiliar place. You sat up slightly, feeling the searing pain in your shoulder. You let out a small whine as you rubbed at your aching shoulder with your free hand.

“Chan?” you called out for your friend realizing he wasn’t with you. “CHAN?!”

You stood up on your knees as your frantically looked around the room. Outside the window was the same familiar thundering storm, but the room you were in was unfamiliar. The walls were greying and weak. The paint has chipped off, worn over the years exposing the weak splintering wood underneath. The floor was made of the same wood. There were holes decorating the floor as a few planks were popped up. Surrounding you were many desks, broken and tattered, knocked over haphazardly. Curiously, the desks were all on the smaller side. There were a few posters pasted to the walls, the ink and image faded away due to age. You can barely make out the faded text and image. It looked to be what was one a colorful cartoonish image with various letters on it.

Were you in...an elementary school?

“Channie?” you called out again, standing on your feet.

Thunder rumbled lightly outside as the rain pitter pattered lightly on the window. Lightning cracked through the atmosphere again, illuminating the dark room momentarily. You screamed at what you saw, backing up quickly. Your back roughly collided into the book shelf as you lost balance. Your hands reach out to the shelf to catch yourself.

Opposite of you on the other side of the room, was a sprawled body. An arm was outstretched as the head rested on the limb. Both eyes were void of any contents as it appeared as if a vast emptiness was staring deep into your soul. The mouth was open in a silent scream. The skin was grey with several wrinkles and had a texture similar to leather. The clothes were ripped and tattered as you saw bone peeking through the holes.

“Oh my god,” you breathed out, feeling your legs give out under you. You curled up on the floor, pulling your knees to your chest. Your hands overlap over your erratic heart as your breaths labor. You felt a chill ran down your spine as goosebumps appeared on your arms. You lifted your arm into view as your fingers grazed over the bumps to soothe them.

In your peripherals, a blue light illuminated the corner. In curiosity, you faced the light. Your heart dropping as your eyes widen. In a seated position with her knees pulled to her chest, a girl, red, boring deep into your souls. Her skin looked pure and pale as a sheet, but her red attire, what used to be a pretty red dress was torn and distressed. The fabric was fraying out and dirtied with who knows what -- things you wouldn’t dare to imagine. The figure’s hair was long and dark and in disarray. Strands of hair lingered in front of her face as her glaring wide eyes peeked through, you can feel her gaze burning holes through you.

You made eye contact with a girl as you felt an electric shock running throughout your veins. Cold sweat began forming in various spots in your body as your breathing became increasingly more labored. Fear wracked your body when you realized that your limbs felt as if it wasn’t your own anymore. The girl, without a sudden sound, stood upright in a straight posture and walked menacingly close to you. You wanted to protest, but even your mouth betrayed you. Your mouth was fixed in its clenched position as you were forced to watch the specter inch ever so closer to you. A hand was brought to her chest as the object glinted. Held by the base of the blade, was a squeaky clean unrusted pair of scissors as the lips curled upward in a small innocent smile.

Your blood curdling scream ripped through the air.

Chan had awaken with a jolt as he shot awake. His head was pounding as he rolled onto his back with a pained moan. He brought his fingers up to the throbbing pain, feeling warm liquid and a slight stinging upon contact. Bringing his hand into view revealed to the Aussie his brilliantly red coated fingers.

“Fuck,” Chan let his hand fall limp as he screwed his eyes shut. Chan let out a breathy sigh as he cracked his eyes open a bit. He took a nice long look at the cracked, worn and discolored ceiling not recognizing it.

“What the fuck? Where am I?” Chan wondered out loud shooting up into a sitting position, wincing loudly at the throbbing on his head protesting from the abrupt action.

“Ow ow ow,” Chan pressed his palm firmly onto the head wound as he willed himself off the ground.

Lightning illuminated the room briefly. It was a small quaint room with faint evidence of childish crayon and marker scribbles on the wall. The floor was littered with various markers and crayons as well as various toys. Chan scanned the room from left to right. He eyed the sprawled out letter blocks, each block was gathering dust and spread out haphazardly. He then analyzed the several balls that were scattered on the floor. Chan’s eyes narrowed at a point of interest as he stepped forward towards an oddly familiar ball.

“What the fuck?” Chan shook his head in disbelief. His hand reached for the ball, his fingers grazing over the worn rubber as he rolled it towards him.

“No,” Chan said sternly backing away quickly from the ball. Written on the ball scribbled with permanent marker was his and your names from your childhood days. Chan remembered the ball that started his long lasting friendship and vaguely recalled the ball popping and tossed due to the worn rubber from continuous use and play being weak and thin. Chan remembered the ball bouncing into his parent’s rose bush and the beloved toy popping.

“That’s- that’s not possible,” Chan whispered out. Chan turned away to step out of the room only to trip over the stacks of blocks gathered by his feet. “What?”

Chan’s eyes darted to the corner where the blocks were previously rested at only to find it bare. How did it gather at his feet?

"This is getting freaky," Chan grumbled stepping over the blocks.

Chan made his way towards the door of the room only to find a flipped over toy remote car blocking the doorway. Unlike everything else in the room that was greying and gathering dust, the car had a brilliant gloss and sheen over the red paint. Chan bent down to pick up the toy car and examine it closely. It looked to be in pristine condition with a fairly strong smell of fresh plastic.

"Why- aah!" Chan yelped when the car revved to life as the front two wheels began turning left and right frantically dropping the car as it fell and bounced on the ground. Pieces of plastic shattered and fluttered off during impact. The car bounced and rolled until it was on its hood, the battery casing popping off the bottom.

It was empty.

A loud scream shrieked through the atmosphere as Chan jumped up ready.

"Y/N? Y/N!" Chan barreled out of the room into an unfamiliar hallway.

"Oh shit," Chan cursed as he stopped just in time, swaying back and forth trying to keep his balance. The room Chan was in led to a collapsed floor. The wood was splintering around the edges and the remaining wood creaked and groaned under Chan's weight. Chan peered down the hole, it seemed endless; Chan was unable to see past the darkness.

Chan pressed his back against the wall to shimmy his way to his right down the hallway back to solid ground. Going left wasn't an option do to the lack of structurally sound wood, the ones that were there looked as if they were rotting away and can give way when applied any sort of pressure.

Chan could hear you scream once more.

"Y/N?" Chan looked past the huge collapsed gap on the floor as he sees you stumbling out of your room, landing directly on your back. Your eyes were wide and glossy, your hair was disheveled with several strands sticking in every direction. Panic wracked through your body, Chan can see all the trembles and could almost hear your labored breathing.

"Y/N? Y/N!" Chan tried to call out to you from his side of the gap.

Your head slowly turned to face his directly as your face paled impossibly whiter as if you've seen a ghost. Whimpers erupted from your lips as you quickly back up and ran away.

"Y/N! Wait!" Chan called out, reaching out an arm, but you were already gone.

You whimpered to yourself as you slowly walked down the stairs, jumping slightly after every creek of the wood holding against your weight. Paranoia wracked your being as your dilating eyes dart back and forth at every single nook and cranny. The air felt heavier the further you walked down as if there were more paranormal activity in the air, but you kept pushing on. You needed to get away from that thing you saw.

"Anything was better than that," you would whisper to yourself in a dire attempt to console your erratically beating heart. A fleeting feeling rushed through you. The heavy atmosphere felt as if it was pushing against you, the weight of it putting pressure over the entire surface area of your body. Your thighs subconsciously rubbed against each other as your hands absentmindedly trailed down to your pelvis area. You didn't notice it before, but it felt full and overflowing, close to bursting. The heavy atmosphere made the need for relief more dire.

You whined loudly. Why did you need to go now of all times?

You rushed down the hallway, each step creaking loudly in protest as you pushed opened the door. You yelped after being greeted by another deceased form, two actually. One larger than the other as it held the smaller within its arms. Both their eyes were hollow and dark like the one before, but their facial skin had more integrity. It was off colored with hollow cheeks. Their clothes looked clean, almost too clean. What was more off putting was the familiarity of it. You screamed shaking your head vigorously as tears flowed out in streams with your body shaking in fear.

They were donning what you and Chan were wearing.

"How horrible," Chan grumbled gazing at the sight of two bodies before him. One was was upright against the wall with the other sprawled on the floor. The one sat up right had a dark stain on their dress shirt. The once white shirt now had a large black spot. The skin underneath looked raw and torn, the flesh looked ferociously torn open by a wild animal. The other body lying on the floor had a similar black stain along their jaw. The body had decayed enough where the skin shriveled and exposed the teeth, within the junction between two teeth had evidence of meaty flesh that used to be there.

Chan groaned in disgust as he leaned down to grasp at the discarded piece of parchment. The back was blank and had a dark browning blood smear. Chan turned the piece of parchment over to read the desperate chicken scratch. Most of it was illegible and covered by drying bits of blood and dirt.

"We… starving.

… food…

Itchy… scratchy…

Rock, paper, scissors

Loser… eats winner."

"Oh my fucking god," Chan exclaimed tossing aside the scrap note. "This has got to be a sick joke."

Chan shuddered momentarily as he continued down his hallway trying to make his way to you. Chan wasn’t really the type to believe in the paranormal. Sure, Chan liked to indulge in the superstitions and the good scare of ghost stories (much to your dismay), but that doesn’t necessarily mean he believes in them. The whole building seemed to look in complete disrepair as if not a single soul has been here for years. The entire place was silent, more or less, the only noises that permeated throughout the entire building were the muffled thunderstorm outside, the building settling and himself. Chan’s entire body stiffened as a cold chill ran down his spine. A low moaning came and went like it wasn’t even there. Chan whipped around to check his behind only to see nothing out of the ordinary. Soft gurgling could be heard, similar to someone gurgling their mouth with mouthwash. Chan whipped around once more, each noise came and went but it sounded like it was directly behind him.

“What is this bullshit?” Chan mumbled under his breath, turning back the way he was originally going. His breath hitched when he noticed a figure of a small child glowing a pale blue at the end of the hallway. Chan’s eyes widen as he blinked repeatedly.

“No,” Chan spat. “I am not seeing ghosts.”

The same gurgling sound could be heard from the child. Chan gulped once he finally took in the child’s entire appearance. The child was wearing what used to be a white sweater, the white now painted a brilliant red along with a simple pleated skirt, knee high socks and black flats-- standard elementary uniform. While her body seems physically unharmed, her head was an entirely different story. Chan froze in place as he felt as if his feet were nailed to the ground. The girl trudged towards Chan with a slight wobble and limp to her step. A bloodied hand was outreached trying to grasp at Chan as she walked closer. Chan’s jaw went slack staring directly at the girl, everything jaw up was missing. It was a painful sight. The skin looked red and raw, the anatomical evidence of the upper mandible and the upper vertebrates of the spine was gone. Pieces of hair were desperately holding onto the missing skin of the neckline and the skin desperately looked like it was ready to roll back down as if you wore pants with too loose of a waist band. The flatness of it was horrendous, the lower half of her head look as if it was displaying the lower jaw and tongue on a rouge serving platter.

Another loud scream broke him from his trance. Your scream.

The headless girl still walked over towards Chan every so slightly with an arm outstretched with gurgling noises coming from the blood bubbling in her esophagus. Even if the danger before had a higher threat, his priority was you. Chan pushed forward sidestepping the girl, her tiny hands barely missed Chan as he rushed for the staircase behind her. Chan barreled down the stairs, his left hand holding on the railing using it as leverage to swing around the staircase. Chan let out a pained yelped as his fingers sliced on something. Chan stopped where he stood to examine his fingers. A huge gash was lined diagonally beginning from his index down to his middle as the blood spewed out in rivers of red as it dripped to the floor.

“Ah, shit. Shit, shit, shit,” Chan cursed grasping at his fingers trying to stop the blood flow. Upon closer inspection, Chan noticed a singular nail protruding out of the hand rail. A bundle of piano wire was gathered around the metal objects as it stretched out to the wall opposite. A small portion of the wire was dyed red with Chan’s blood as a singular drop fell towards the floor.

“What the fuck?” Chan breathed out, analyzing the wire. His uninjured hand ghosted over the wire wincing by how sharp it was. It was thin, almost transparent to the naked eye. Only upon close inspection with a critical eye, would one see the metal wire.

“That’s fucked up,” Chan ducked under that metal wire to continue on.

What you don’t know, can’t hurt anyone right?

You were currently waddling with your thighs being pushed together as you desperately trying to hold it in. You had some pride within you, you wouldn’t be able to live it down if you had to squat in the corner to relieve yourself. Even if Chan never knew about it, you can practically hear Chan clowning you about it for the rest of your life.

“Oh my god, yes! Thank you!” you sighed as your bolted toward the restroom with a sign that displayed a silhouette in a skirt. Your hand reached for the handle when a familiar voice from within stopped you. It was an old fashioned knob with an old fashioned keyhole. You kneeled down peek through the keyhole. As you expected, the voice was indeed familiar. You could see Chan standing before a stall. His head was hung low slightly. You noticed there was someone in the stall Chan was standing in front of, but you couldn’t see or hear who it was. Only parts of her front were peeking out of the stall, you can faintly see the outline of the figure standing on a bucket with their arms rope bound before her. You could also make out a rope tied to the ceiling.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you panicked as your heart raced in your chest. You watch Chan without hesitation kick the bucket from under the figure as their bound hands flew to their neck. “Oh god. Channie, why?” you wailed out. You gasped when you see Chan turn his head towards the door, his eyes were hidden behind his fringes that were matte and almost sticking to his forehead.

Whimpering lightly, you stumbled backwards totally ignoring the need to relieve yourself as adrenaline rushed through your system. Quickly getting up to your feet, you sprinted the other way, ducking into the first hallway you passed. Your eyes were clenched shut as you blindly sprinted the other direction. The sound of your erratic heartbeat was thundering loudly in your ears as you heard heavy footsteps behind you.

You screamed when you collided with a hard chest. The impact sending you falling to the ground with you landing on your butt ungracefully.

“Y/N?” the voice called out to you. You felt his hand gently grasping your arm.

“No! Let me go!” you wailed, kicking at your assailant.

“Y/N? Y/N! It’s me, Chan! It’s ok, I got you!” he tried to calm you down by grasping at both your flailing arms.

Your eyes cracked open to the man before you. How did he end up ahead of you? You didn’t even stop to consider that he actually looks different. Unlike the Chan you saw just moments before, this Chan actually had a head injury-- red, raw, puffy and bleeding and his fringe was still styled up and out of his face exposing his forehead and eyes.

However, the murder you had witnessed was still fresh in your mind. You screamed and thrashed within Chan’s grip who was desperately trying to ground you in reality. Your breathing was getting ragged and breathy as panic struck. You watched Chan murder someone, what if he was going to murder you too?

“It’s ok. It’s ok, Y/N. Just breathe!” Chan spoke calmly trying not to prod at your panic attack. “Y/-”

You managed to release your dominant arm from his grip and gave him a firm blow to the jaw with your fist and kicking him off of you, by landing a swift harsh kick to his torso knocking the air out of his lungs and him flying backwards. Chan was coughing roughly from the harsh attack.

“Y/-” he coughed, interrupting himself mid sentence. You got up, jumping over his downed body and sprinted down the hallway.

“Wait! Y/N!” Chan called out to you as he stood up to follow.

“Get away from me!”

“Why? Y/N, wait! Talk to me, please!”

“No! No! No! Leave me alone!” you bawled, your voice cracking after every word. You pulled open the door to the stairway and ran up the stairs. The door swinging shut behind you as Chan’s eyes widen in horror remembering what was there.

“Y/N! DUCK!” Chan screamed out desperately.

“What?” you breathed out.

Thump.

Chan’s heart skipped a beat as he stopped before the door. Suddenly he felt as if he was a fly ensnared in a fly trap. His legs were heavy as if gravity had his ankles in a vice grip.

“Y/N?” Chan whispered out, his voice betrayed him.

“Y/N?” he called out once more weeping.

He willed his legs to move even if they so desperately want to stay rooted to the ground. With trembling hands, he wrapped his fingers around the door handle and slowly pulled the door open. His heart was trembling in his chest as he feared what was going to be revealed behind the door.

“No, no, no,” Chan weeped shaking his head. His face scrunched up as his lips parted to weep and his eyes welled with tears. A strong stench of urine filled his nose. Your body was slumped over the incline of stairs with a leg bent awkwardly in an unnatural direction, a puddle of liquid pooling just below your pelvis. Your eyes were wide staring straight at him as your jaw went slack. Your cheeks were decorated by the recently running tears. From the piano wire suspended in between the wall and the railing, a section was red and dripping as your head rolled, bouncing pathetically down each step like a deflated ball with it stopping by his feet.

“Hey there! Do you want to play ball with me?” you called out with a toothy smile, showing off the gap between your teeth proudly.

Ugly screams ripped through his vocal chords. Chan’s cries of despair, mourning and pure raw emotion kept coming out. His voice reverberated throughout the walls. Chan fell to his knees, his hands grasping at his locks pulling at it as he kept screaming. His eyes were wide as his gaze couldn’t focus on anything other than your lifeless orbs.

Stood atop the stairway as the familiar headless specter in blue. Chan looked at her in horror as tears free fell from his eyes. She outreached her hand again, but this time something was within her small grasp. Chan recognized the faux leather material, the smiling faces of you and Chan was shown from the display pocket of your wallet. In her other hand, the bottomless paper doll that was yours. Chan can feel the weightless paper scrap securely stored in his wallet weighing down his pocket.

“Cool,” Chan smiled. “So how do we do it?”

You held up the paper doll. “We need at least two people in order to do the charm.”

We need at least two people in order to escape.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids angst #stray kids chan #bang chan #skz chan #stray kids imagines #chan

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verhdelstanddelosbesos24ky · 4 years ago

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Ver Película — “El stand de los besos 2″ Online en Español HD

El Stand de los Besos 2 (2020) HD 1080p Latino Ver HD, Peliculas Online o Descargar en calidad HD y en español latino (Dual Latino-Inglés) 1080p, 720p y 4K,

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El stand de los besos 2 (Mi primer beso 2 en españa) Película Netflix original 2020 sacudió el cine español y latinoamericano.

SINOPSIS Título original The Kissing Booth 2 Año 2020 Duración 130 min. País Reino Unido Reino Unido Dirección Vince Marcello Guion Jay S Arnold, Vince Marcello Fotografía Anastas N. Michos Productora Distribuida por Netflix. Coproducción Reino Unido-Estados Unidos; Komixx Entertainment Género Romance | Comedia romántica. Adolescencia. Secuela

Reparto Joey King, Molly Ringwald, Jacob Elordi, Maisie Richardson-Sellers, Joel Courtney, Carishma Basday, Joshua Daniel Eady, Meganne Young, Kai Luke Brummer, Frances Sholto-Douglas, Camilla Wolfson, Taylor Zakhar Perez, D. David Morin, Michelle Allen, Bianca Bosch, Bianca Amato, Nathan Lynn, Morné Visser, Chase Dallas, Judd Krok, Toni Jean Erasmus, Motsi Tekateka, Shana Mans, Carson White, Noa Milan, Matthew Dylan Roberts, Dylan Edy, Grant Ross

Resumen Elle Evans, que debe tomar decisiones sobre la universidad, afronta su relación a distancia con Noah Flynn, que se marcha a Harvard, su cambiante relación con su mejor amiga Lee y lo que siente por un nuevo y carismático compañero de clase de nombre Marco (Taylor Zakhar Perez).

HISTORIA Y CRITICAS

El stand de los besos (The kissing both) 2018 Pelicula

‘The Kissing Booth’: Netflix’s Teen Comedy Sensation Is Sexist and Outdated — Review

Netflix might be trying to corner the market on big-budget spectacles from some of Hollywood’s hottest names — from the $90 million “Bright” to its multi-picture deal with Adam Sandler and Martin Scorsese’s much-hyped “The Irishman” — but the streaming giant has quietly planted its stake in a less ambitious place: romantic comedies. So far this year, Netflix has released six original films that are classified as rom-coms, with at least three more on the way before the year closes out. And it’s on to something here: 2017’s “A Christmas Prince” was such a smash hit for the outfit that it has already prepped a holiday sequel.

Netflix’s newest hit-in-the-making, “The Kissing Booth,” is kicking up similar attention. Unfortunately, the high school-set rom-com is a sexist and regressive look at relationships that highlights the worst impulses of the genre. Netflix isn’t new to the sub-genre of teen rom-coms, and it has already succeeded with other picks. Later this month, Craig Johnson’s delightful “Alex Strangelove” will arrive on the streaming service, and last month saw the introduction of Olivia Milch’s “Dude,” a female-driven comedy in the vein of other raunchy features like “Bridesmaids” and “Mean Girls.”

Films like that are indicative of the outfit locking down yet another piece of Hollywood magic and serving its viewers something they want to see, even if the traditional studio system isn’t giving it to them, but “The Kissing Booth” is a strange blight on that run. The film combines classic narrative tropes of the genre — think a low-budget mishmash of “Pretty in Pink,” “Never Been Kissed,” “Mean Girls,” and “10 Things I Hate About You” — but is also hobbled by a gross understanding of gender dynamics and what makes a healthy relationship.

And that’s to say nothing of its approach to depicting sexual harassment, frequent slut-shaming of its leading lady, and attempting to romanticize a “bad boy” love interest who mainly seems interested in getting in physical fights and then loudly mouthing off about his possessive tendencies. Cute, huh?

The movie, written and directed by Vince Marello (best known for his film versions of stories from the “American Girl” doll franchise), is an adaption of the Beth Reekles novel of the same name, and starts off with a relatively sweet premise. Elle (Joey King) and Lee (Joel Courtney) have been best friends since birth, “raised like twins” by their mothers, who also happen to be life-long best friends. (One of the moms is even played by Molly Ringwald, to give the film further rom-com bonafides.) They’ve been obsessed with Dance Dance Revolution since they were tiny, and while their private high school appears to be a clique-y kind of place, they’ve grown into popular-ish kids who are grounded by their bond.

The first act of “The Kissing Booth” plays out in predictable fashion, as Elle wrestles with her growing feelings for Noah as he alluringly teases her, engaging in the kind of push-pull will-they-won’t-they dynamic that’s always been a hallmark of the genre. And yet, even in its earliest moments, “The Kissing Booth” is preoccupied with sexist rhetoric and a willingness to apologize for Noah’s alarming behavior.

Elle (who, it must be noted, is just charming, thanks to King’s bubbly performance) has a lot going for her, including a plucky personality that manages to find all kinds of solutions for weird problems. Early in the film, Elle tears her last pair of school-issued pants, and unable to rustle up any other options, is forced to head off to school wearing a two-year-old skirt (too small, but at least part of the dress code). The moment she hits campus, she’s assaulted by catcalls from nearly all of her fellow male students (a real “boys will be boys” moment that imagines that all teenage boys are simply unable to do anything beyond scream epithets at pretty girl they’ve known for years, if she’s wearing a short piece of clothing).

It gets worse, as Elle is groped by another student, leading Noah to physically assault him (predictable). Elle lands in the principal’s office — an awkward enough twist, given she’s the actual victim here — and things only get worse from there. Both Lee (again, her best friend and typically a sweet guy) and the school’s principal tell Elle that she was “asking for it” by wearing the skirt. It’s a laughably regressive moment, such obviously outdated thinking, but “The Kissing Booth” just keeps plugging along.

The parking lot-set fisticuffs helps pave the way for Elle and Noah’s tentative romance, with Noah first brushing off his behavior as springing from a place of familial affection for Elle, while she wonders if it’s a sign that he has deeper feelings for her. Despite this run-of-the-mill and wholly relatable high school romance (who has never felt like Elle?), “The Kissing Booth” remains enamored of Noah’s defining characteristics: he’s got a seriously violent streak who gets turned on by jealousy and demonstrates some weirdo possessiveness that never abates.

This is not an exaggeration. Noah’s affection for getting into fights — often very brutal ones — becomes a large part of the film. Elle even lays down a rule that he can’t fight anymore if he wants them to be together (His response: “You know, you’re cute when you’re bossy”), and later gets him to admit that his family has struggled to deal with it, even sending him to counseling with no lasting impact. It’s “kinda just how I’m wired,” he muses, and that’s all there is. Later, Lee briefly worries that Noah has hit Elle, a jarring moment in a film marketed as a fluffy rom-com for teens. And Elle constantly acquiesces to him, even when it feels dangerous.

El stand de los besos 2 Pelicula completa Netflix

Una escena de El stand de los besos 2 Netflix: El stand de los besos 2, una confusa comedia adolescente

El stand de los besos 2 (Estados Unidos, 2020). Dirección: Vince Marcello. Guion: Vince Marcello, Jay S. Arnold, basado en las novelas de Beth Reekles. Elenco: Joey King, Jacob Elordi, Joel Courtney, Taylor Zakhar Perez. Duración: 130 minutos. Disponible en: Netflix. Nuestra opinión: mala

La experiencia de ver El stand de los besos 2 es desconcertante. Se trata de una secuela del film estrenado en Netflix en 2018 que resultó ser un enorme éxito, según los datos de la plataforma. Basadas en las novelas escritas por Beth Reekles a través de la aplicación colaborativa Wattpad, ambas películas tienen como protagonista a Elle (Joey King), una estudiante de secundario que vive en un mundo de fantasía digno de una historia animada de Disney. La escuela a la que asiste, sus compañeros, sus actividades y sus amigos tienen el espesor dramático de una hoja de papel y sus intenciones, matices o pasiones entrarían en una carilla de esa misma hoja.

Inverosímil y sin un atisbo de realismo o actualidad, la trama parece estar dirigida al público adolescente o preadolescente pero, y ahí es dónde comienza el desconcierto. Difícilmente le interesen los constantes montajes que resumen los mejores momentos de los personajes a un grupo etario que baila en TikTok y se comunica a través de Instagram, ni tampoco los artificiales diálogos que abundan en el film. O tal vez sí. Pero con una puesta en escena más cercana a ciertos telefilms apuntados al público infantil y una historia que se ocupa de tratar a los cuerpos de sus personajes como objetos para admirar y a sus cerebros como un accesorio resulta complicado identificar al espectador ideal de El stand de los besos 2.

Es posible que sus realizadores hayan tenido la misma dificultad. Puestos a adaptar la historia escrita por una joven mujer de 16 años, los dos guionistas adultos reinterpretaron la fantasía adolescente en sus propios términos y terminaron con una película de dos largas horas y diez minutos que nunca se preocupa por hacer de su protagonista un personaje mínimamente interesante, que exista más allá de su relación con los hombres de su vida, a los que en esta vuelta se suma Marco (Taylor Zakhar Perez), el chico nuevo de la escuela. Construido, aparentemente, utilizando la información provista por una encuesta, el muchacho tiene un poco de Noah Centineo (A todos los chicos de los que me enamoré), una pizca de el propio Elordi y algo de los protagonistas de Elite y su exótico atractivo latino filtrado por el algoritmo de Netflix.

Etiquetas:

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#el stand de los besos 2 #el stand de los besos #el stand delos besos 2 #the kissing booth 2 #the kissing booth #mi primer besos 2 #pelis gratis subtitulada #pelicula completa netflix

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madamhatter · 4 years ago

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bigcasinc inquired: 🚼- For Sophie and Jade! send me 🚼 and a ship I’ll use a doll-maker to design what I think a child between our two muses would look like | accepting | @bigcasinc

made using this picrew: loose carrot maker refer to ‘appearance’ for specifics (and what this maker couldn’t include).

NAME: Emery (A/N.: Or Moira! i’m unsure atm but i like emery a lot) Leech Hatter AGE: 4~6 GENDER: Female (she/her) APPEARANCE:

Eyes mutated to a gold-brown hazel. No heterochromia like her father.

Height is 3′2″/96 cm. Reaches to her mom’s waist.

Serrated teeth with a big smile.

Teal hair with silver highlights in it. Hair length at her neck and always picked up/styled. Usually in pigtails with bows or a ponytail with a bow.

Thick brows and wide eyes like mother. Eye shape and mouth shape like father.

Can look unintentionally terrifying and does not understand she can be scary. She knows her smile can cause reactions (from her mom’s cooing and a barrage of kisses on her rounds cheeks to making people ‘jump’ (if she does a narrow smile like Jade’s or Floyd’s might scare the shit out of adults and children)). Bro, if someone asks her to flash her teeth, she's more than ENTHUSIASTIC to go ‘Okay!!’ and show them off.

Usually seen worn rompers, pinafore dress w/ an undershirt, or repurposed shirts (from her mom’s childhood closet) and shorts. Always a solid purple, orange, or red top with a patterned shirt underneath it. Always in comfortable footwear for climbing and running or sandals.

PERSONALITY:

Largely a talkative child, with the support of her mother and her sisters as they are receptive and converse whenever something is on Emery’s mind. By ‘talkative,’ she is one who is in constant thought and with high curiosity. It doesn’t mean she outright talks to strangers who pass by her or may even make eye contact with her.

Blunt without recognizing negative connotations or thoughts. She will speak what is on her mind, which aren’t properly thought through in terms of socialization (not that she cares for that at her age). It follows the same vein as a certain eel, except without the patronizing tone. IE: “Do not run. You’re slow.” / "I’m fast to catch everyone. That’s easy.”

Is to an extent clingy to her mother and aunts. She is known to hold onto her mom’s legs or hide underneath her mother’s long skirts whenever she’s talking. Very upfront in greeting those who she knows are close and tries to be polite. (Mostly, this is her trying to mimic how Sophie speaks but it’s WAAAY too dense for Emery sometimes). Though, she likes attention. She hasn’t put two-and-two together, but she knows her mom ‘follows’ her whenever she runs. So, Emery is more committed to running around with her human mother chasing after her and telling her to wait.

As the last point denotes, she’s pretty perceptive to the people around her and reading them. She’s quick to know that x will get her y. Though, she doesn’t have complex thoughts down at her age yet. She will ask a sleuth of questions which may not have answers for -- but she is one to impose and seek. It’s her way of ‘reading’ the room.

Ecstatic to learn and being hands-on in things. Always behind with her mom to help her out in the kitchen or the hat shop (mainly, taking ribbons) and always tries to peek at the table and countertop. Additionally, she is one that would go out to try to help others -- if not, tell them that her mom can fix anything and lead them to her (explained in personal headcanons).

Emery still gets outright overwhelmed and restless at her age, when it comes to roadblocks and rejection -- especially by peers. She has a big threshold (if not tolerance) for what she takes and usually reciprocates a smile, before going completely quiet. This is where she’ll go into hiding or finds her high energy leaving her fitful and bothered.

SPECIAL TALENTS:

SHIFTER - As half-person and half-merperson, and given her parents’ magical prowl, Emery has the gift of being able to shift between these forms. Being raised on the land, she has defaulted to her two-legs. However, she will be able to morph into her mer-form, which is remarkably similar to her father’s (smaller, with numerous silver spots, and frills). She needs to train herself, but at her age, it will come fairly easily. She needs to be thoroughly dried and taken to a side by the water to help her shift back to her human form (which her mom takes well care of). Emery, however, is not aware of this ability or her heritage.

HIDE-AND-SEEK CHAMPION - Known to hide in almost any place that she can find, Emery is known by the local children to be practically undetectable when it comes to her hiding spots and when she changes spots. This power is two-fold. She is an exceptional, if not terrifying, seeker. She can’t put her finger on it, but she finds them easily (through smell) and slowly walks over to the other children, patting them, which sends them in a jolt, if not, screaming from terror. However, this talent also comes into play when she feels restless and uncertain, as she’ll go and hide somewhere cramped and dark for comfort. Her mother is able to find her all the time, when at home. There was a point that newborn Emery would only calm down if Sophie made it dark enough and made the right arrangements (use a small carrier, partially covering the crib with a blanket, etc). It is near impossible to draw her out unless it is her mother, sisters, and family friends (or her few close friends).

DURABILITY AND ENHANCED STRENGTH AND SENSES - Comes from merperson heritage. The primary example is her baby teeth that are notably sharp (and will get sharper once her baby teeth fall out) and can draw blood without much effort. Though, she is very careful about this. Another example would be her reaction to pain -- like how she may run into a door or glass with a terribly loud thud and she’d step back, blink, laugh, and continue running after a friend. She isn’t invincible and she can get hurt, but she is definitely more resilient from human children. Can she break bones? Yes! She isn’t yet at that point, however, as she is literally a kid.

INCLUDED: Love for music and rhythm, collect-and-gathering trinkets.

WHO THEY LIKE BETTER:

Given circumstances (refer to #1 personal headcanon), Emery prefers her mom. Though, if she wants to budge her mom or wants something her way, she’ll easily wiggle to bug her aunt Martha, Sophie’s youngest sister, to (try) and get it. Genuinely, there are times where Emery will prefer her aunts over her mom, if not because the three of them group together and indirectly bully Sophie into doing something for their niece.

WHO THEY TAKE AFTER MORE:

Physically, it is undeniable that she takes after Jade more. Blame the dominant genes on his end, but the gold tinge in her eyes, teal hairs, and sharp teeth are the biggest indications of this. I would also extend the thought that she takes on more Jade than one may realize -- if only because her own interactions aren’t as maliciously calculating as her father’s. There are core traits that blend in with Sophie’s, where the edge is there with an unhealthy amount of energy that needs to be burnt off.

PERSONAL HEADCANONS:

Emery is the unexpected product of Jade and Sophie’s relationship when it was coming to a close. Their relationship ended as soon as they departed from NCR, unsure really what to make of another (as in, be it if they could be long-term partners or they needed to seek out others). They were intimate, friendly, perhaps confidants. But, without a proper title, it was better to depart from their teenage dreams before it spiraled out of control. The discovery was never disclosed. Sophie realized what was going on and refused to reach out. To interfere with what they agreed with - that chapter was over, he went else and so did she. Did she regret agreeing to part ways? Yes, but who’d be that selfish to drag him back? For all she knew, he found better somewhere in the wide world -- maybe even a mate too, which would make this situation extremely problematic. In this situation, Emery is raised by her single mother and is unaware of her father and likewise, her father is completely unaware of her.

Emery’s concept of destruction and fixing all revolves around her mother. She has a long history of destroying the toys that Sophie has made for her (one of the closest ones being a large purple patchwork bear). But, any time something the stuffing is coming out or the bear is losing an eye, she happily walks over to her mother and Sophie fixes it. She doesn’t quite get there is a point of no-return for certain damages, but she is more than content that with this logic, her mom can fix anything. Hence why she’ll instruct people who ask her questions she doesn’t know (or if they’re upset) to “speak to mama!”

Lots of moray eel behaviors that she performs. A couple of them were mentioned before. But, I have more. One of them happens to be how she interacts with blankets and trying to fall asleep, She ends up rolling around it, wiggling a little helplessly, before laughing and rolling around with it on the mattress. She also does it because she’s a little too excited to go to bed with her mom (both have shared the same mattress)!

Lettie and Martha’s MagiCam accounts, as Sophie either doesn’t have one (or recently made one post-NCR which is private), have some photos and videos of their lovely niece! She happens to pop into photos per accident, only because she’s wondering why her aunts are attempting ten poses and she thinks they’re trying to dance. A fun game that Martha plays with her follows is ‘spot the emmy’ (’emmy’ is her nickname from the hatter trio / sophie specifically calls emery ‘eri’ (pronounced like ending of emery) or tulip/tuli) where a large background photo is available and people have to guess where emery is hiding (in plain sight)! It’s quite popular! There’s also videos of Sophie and Emery interacting, which shows some parts of their personal life. For example, one would be where Sophie squats down tp Emery’s level and ‘blep’ her tongue/stick out her tongue, which Emery does in turn. The ‘bleping’ is something Emery already does.

#( by brackish waters they’d dance on the edge ; unsure of where the next step will end | jade && sophie )#( checkbooks inquiries and much ; answered asks )#bigcasinc #[ i originally was going to fill this out as if j.ade made profile(s) for the kids he made up for his fanfic ]#[ but then my mind went ':)' and then I did this ]#[ also yes everyone is getting a profile write-up ]#[ the storyline might be sad af .. but i will die for emery bc i might've spent too much time making her a real character mkgdfg ]#long post tw #long post

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codenamesazanka · 6 years ago

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Ahhhh I didn’t know it was out already! The official Viz translation of Chapter 226!

And here’s Caleb Cook’s Trivia on Twitter!

Notes!

Caleb points out that this incident probably happened on graduation day. What a way to end the school year, Toga!

Quirk Counseling!

Less ominous sounding here, but still more in the vein of ‘society hates individuals and loves conformity’.

And it’s implied that it’s something everyone goes through, so hopefully Toga wasn’t subjected to a private session.

Hmmm I wonder what it entails. Child psych is, IMO, pretty tough to learn and get because there’s so much going on.

Little kids are tiny geniuses absorbing every detail of the world and slowly becoming aware of themselves as people, as part of this messy web of human roles and connections. It’s when they gain the understanding on how to live, how to move in the world, how to fit themselves in.

They notice and internalize so many things, all these very subtle, invisible social phenomena, whether we intend for them to see or not. Such a critical, formative period.

Try as we might, to teach 3, 4 years old, to mold them into our expectations, to parent them into perfect boys and girls, often forgetting they’re separate individuals, not extensions of their parents nor empty dolls to play dress up with - kids, even as infants, are their own persons.

It’s such a complex interaction - what they sense and perceived, heavily influenced by their environment and culture and experiences, and then filtered through their own eyes and brains, each one unique and unlike any other in the history of the world. And then, tho this informs their actions, in turn feedback is received from their surroundings and adults and it’s impossible to know what will stick and what won’t.

So malleable and yet, very much not.

Anyways!!! I wonder if this is sorta like that ‘colorblindness’ ideal kids in America are taught. Everyone is the same, there’s no more racism, don’t talk about race, if you notice the very real discrepancies, you won’t be told about the complex history and structures and processes that inform modern day society, and instead let’s ignore all that!

So! Everyone is the same, don’t talk about quirk differences and attitudes and the heroic/villainous dichotomy already applied to your power. Never mind that the quirkless kid is getting bullied and has already accepted that the world is unjust and unequal. Never mind that people are pretending you’re normal, demanding you act normal, when you already picked up their fear about your blood quirk.

If everyone is the same but somehow you still stick out, you still fail to be ‘acceptable’, you just can’t be ‘normal’, then it must be

your. own. damn. fault.

These are just panels that stuck out to me.

Especially:

“Day after day, the police and heroes came after me.”

And is this what Toga thinks will happen to her if they ever catch her? (Chapter 80)

Shigaraki “i immediately disintegrated the two dudes that attacked me, but don’t kill anyone guys” Tomura.

I love this guy

And so that bit was about Gigantomachia.

What a fun chapter!!!

#Chapter 226 #toga himiko #himiko toga #toga #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki #mha #bnha #heroaca #quirk counseling #viz media #caleb cook #nalslastworkingbraincell

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juice-boxs-imagines · 6 years ago

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Could I please request shinji hirako sfw and nsfw headcanons if you're comfortable with it??? Thank you so much!!!

You most certainly can, Anon! Thanks for the ask! T̶h̶i̶s̶ i̶s̶ m̶y̶ s̶e̶c̶o̶n̶d̶ t̶i̶m̶e̶ w̶r̶i̶t̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ N̶S̶F̶W̶; I̶ t̶r̶i̶e̶d̶ m̶y̶ b̶e̶s̶t̶. Please enjoy your cup of fresh, hot Shinji! ^^

“Look at all these here dolls admiring me, heh.”

SHINJI HIRAKO

SFW

•Boyfriend Shinji is a shameless, dramatic romantic. This is mainly due to him lowkey not knowing what the fuck he’s doing, so he'll look to others for advice. And out of ALL the people to choose from, he gets the advice from the even-MORE-dramatic Rose. That explains why Shinji TRIED to sing his love confession to s/o. Rose provided the music and the love ballad came with a white teddy bear holding a bouquet of red roses. Yeah, when Shinji is sure about his girl, he goes ALL out.

•Shinji doesn't do it on purpose and he really doesn't mean to, but he can move pretty fast in a relationship. Been dating for 2 weeks? It's time to move in together! Remember, he doesn't hold anything back when he's sure about the one. So what's the hold up?

•For the most part, Shinji doesn't like change. If you guys move in together, he knows he'll have to make some major sacrifices and commitments, but he'll be willing to do it for the girl he loves. But beware! After you guys fall into a daily pattern, don't deviate from it. Otherwise, his dramatic self will feel out of place, or worse, he'll fear something is wrong.

•Be prepared for Shinji’s hygiene routine (Suess Muse strikes again! 😎). He also takes his hair grooming SERIOUSLY. This man is the type who won't think twice about buying a $100 jar of hair gel. He takes 15 minute showers, so if s/o goes in behind him, she should be prepared for a cold one.

•Shinji is ridiculously sensitive to some skin care products. He uses a non-scented women’s brand soap and a kind of baby brand lotion because his skin is so soft and sensitive. He can't really use too many other products because they trigger awful breakouts and rashes all over his skin. S/o should be wary about what skin products she brings into the house. Shinji is also sensitive to laundry detergents, so s/o will have to either convert over to his brand or be sure to keep their loads separate.

•Of course, Shinji using women’s soap and baby lotion comes with some perks. S/o can't help but keep her hands on his soft, smooth skin. If you expect him to smell like a chick, you're wrong; Everything about him just smells so clean with a slight hint of sweet freshnesses. It is not a feminine scent in the slightest.

•Shinji TRIES to be a joker, just to make his girl smile. What he doesn't know that his miserable attempts will be what makes s/o laugh rather than the jokes themselves.

•Shinji was in an intense love affair with Netflix even before he had met s/o, so he is DEFINITELY the type to Netflix n’ chill + cuddles. He is the type to watch the same stuff over and over again. He's also the type to make comments during the shower.

-”Ugh, Angelina Jolie looks tacky in that dress!”

-”What an idiot! You're gettin’ outfoxed by a little kid!” (Shinji has watched all of the Home Alone movies 14 times.)

-”Why the fuck Jurassic World’s not a reality?” (I agree, Shinji. I agree.)

•No horror movies. NEVER horror movies. Don't even fix your lips to asks. The scariest you'll see him doing is movies like Jurassic World (Shinji loves dinosaurs…), Jumanji (anybody else found that movie scary as a kid? Oh, it was just me? Okay…) etc.

•He will watch mature rated romance movies though...In speaking of which…

NSFW

•Shinji is still a shameless, dramatic romantic even while in bed. But this time, we can't blame it on Rose, as Shinji is too self conscious to talk about sex with other people.

•I am very much a firm believer that Shinji is an ass man. Seeing his s/o in tight underwear, a swimsuit, or a thin, see-through robe that allows a silhouette that shows off her curvy ass will set him off like a firecracker. Believe it or not, it will set him off quicker than if he saw her butt unclothed. It's something about him being teased that usually adds on to the fun.

•He will TRY to be subtle. Like, s/o will notice him doing extra stuff to butter her up when he wants to get s/o into the room. As cute as he is, she will also be tickled to see his struggle and might play hard to get for a while just to see how far he goes.

•Shinji is usually a spontaneous person who likes to act in the moment. But, he's the opposite when it comes to sex. Unless the sex is spontaneous/random, he will plan out when and where the deed will be done. He likes the classic after-dinner sex. S/o might be sitting on the couch after a good dinner, looking for something to watch and Shinji “innocently” slid up on the couch next to her. S/o will soon notice his hands and eyes roaming. A heated look, and one of his famous, toothy grins, and that's all it takes for her to get the message. Whether it goes down on the couch or the bedroom will depend on the mood.

•Actually LOVES shower sex. S/o will never know when to expect it, however. Shinji generally likes taking showers with s/o anyway, so seeing her naked won't be a set-off for him. What will set him off is his s/o doing sweet and kind things for him in the shower, like offering to scrub his back. Shinji is usually bullied by K̶e̶n̶s̶e̶i̶ a̶n̶d̶ L̶i̶s̶a̶ other people, so it's really something special when s/o is showing kindness and consideration to him. If the mood strikes in, he'll show his appreciation by doing more than just returning the favor.

•Has a thing about receiving a blow job in the shower. He won't ask for it though, as he feels it will offend his s/o.

•Shinji is a grower for the most part. At a glance, he looks like he is 5 and a half inches, but when “little Shinji” wants to play, he can stand at about 8 inches. It's not very girthy, however it is very vein-y and s/o will certainly feel them when he is deep inside. Shinji also has a birthmark on his low groin, just where his penis starts. It is shaped like a dog; he named it Fido. Shinji is known for not having ass, but trust and believe his dick makes up for it plenty.

•His pubic hair is just as well groomed as the rest of his body. It is kept clipped short and clean. I̶t̶ s̶e̶e̶m̶s̶ H̶i̶y̶o̶r̶i̶ i̶s̶ w̶r̶o̶n̶g̶ a̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ h̶i̶m̶ b̶e̶i̶n̶g̶ b̶a̶l̶d̶ d̶o̶w̶n̶s̶t̶a̶i̶r̶s̶!

•In speaking of his ass, Shinji’s butt has freckles. It's not a heavy amount though! S/o once counted them. He has 16 freckles in all.

#bleach #headcanons #bleach hcs #shinji hirako

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othercat2 · 7 years ago

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fic: (they flow from form to form) 13/?

==>Karkat: attend a tea party

Karkat is working on his homework on Friday evening, both his actual school homework, and reading assignments in the beginner magic book and the cultist “bible” given to him by Osiris. There was apparently going to be a quiz at some point. The mythology is pretty interesting with descriptions of the realm of the gods, stories about the creation of the First Cities, the adventures of heroes. He also has to read the chapter on his Aspect, and memorize its attributes and interactions with the other Aspects. (Dad had been given similar “homework,” and spent a lot of time talking comparative religions with Osiris the night before in a “memo” over Pesterchum.)

He’s thinking about stopping for the night, when he gets a Pesterchum alert.

[gayAuxiliatrix (GA) is pestering carcinoGeneticist (CG)]

GA: Karkat Are You Doing Anything This Weekend?

CG: JUST STUDYING FOR FINALS WHY?

GA: I Was Wondering If You’d Like To Come To My House For Lunch But Also For Lessons Concerning Certain Duties The High Priestess May Have Mentioned.

CG: SHE DID MENTION SOMETHING ABOUT DUTIES. RITUALS AND BLESSINGS.

CG: UH. DO ANY OF THESE RITUALS INVOLVE KILLING CHICKENS OR SOMETHING?

GA: Says The Person Who Had No Problem Eating My Mother’s Fried Chicken.

CG: OKAY POINT. BUT STILL IS ANIMAL SACRIFICE INVOLVED?

CG: SO I CAN LIKE PREPARE MYSELF.

GA: There Are Certain Seasonal Sacrificial Rites, Where The Meat Of The Sacrificed Animal Is Later Consumed During A Feast. Blood-Letting Is Common For Some Priestly Rituals And As You Are Aware, Humans Are Offered Directly To the Gods.

GA: No Animal Sacrifice Will Be Taking Place. There Will Be Small Fancy Sandwiches, Deviled Eggs, Strawberry Shortcake and Tea.

CG: A TEA PARTY. SERIOUSLY?

CG: WILL THERE BE OTHER GUESTS? YOUR DOLL COLLECTION MAYBE?

CG: FORGET I SAID THAT. IT WAS KIND OF SHITTY AND YOU’RE TRYING TO HELP.

GA: How Did You Know I Collected Dolls?

CG: I DIDN’T I WAS JUST RIFFING OFF OF THE LITTLE GIRL TEA PARTY THING WHICH AGAIN WAS KINDA SHITTY OF ME.

GA: And The Comment About Animal Sacrifice Wasn’t.

CG: OKAY I’M SORRY ABOUT THAT TOO. I CAN COME OVER SATURDAY, I GUESS.

GA: I Will Email You Directions.

CG: OKAY. SEE YOU SATURDAY.

GA: See You.

[gayAuxiliatrix (GA) is no longer pestering carcinoGeneticist (CG)!]

“Smooth move Karkat,” he sighs. “You are the master of tact and diplomacy.” There was probably a better way he could have asked about animal sacrifice. Now there was a weird line of thought. Or maybe the thought wasn’t much weirder than anything else. Food offerings were one thing; he wasn’t bothered by the idea. Animal sacrifice was another thing, even if you were going to be eating the chicken or whatever later. If he had explained it that way, maybe the conversation would have gone a little better.

It was a little unsettling to feel this worried--this guilty--about Kanaya being upset. It made him wonder if he felt this because of some kind of outside influence. As if something or someone was pushing him to become part of one big happy family of sister-brother spouses and the Gods. He sat there for a few minutes in front of the computer, and tried to figure out the inside of his brain. How would he know if he were being influenced?

This is hard. It isn’t like there’s some kind of map or guide. This was his mind. This was looking for something outside that might be manipulating him. Would he even be able to tell? Karkat remembers being handled, moved from one unfathomable Presence to another. Being a tiny speck inspected by Beings so much larger than he was he couldn’t understand it. There had just been the terrifying awareness that They could destroy him without even intending to. That They were being as delicate and careful as They could, but it had just barely been enough; his brains had still ended up scrambled by the contact.

How scrambled would his brains end up being from being “married” to unfathomable eldritch entities?

Still sitting at his desk, he takes a deep breath, and another. In his head, there are red lines, paths. They show up starkly in the dark behind his eyelids. They pulse with a familiar beat, the sound of his heart. There’s a line connecting him to his Dad, who is doing some studying of his own, in his own room. There’s a line, still present that goes to his mother. He can’t touch it, but it’s there. There’s other lines connecting him to people he’s met, and he can sense that there are more lines connecting them to each other. It’s like a net, but also like a stream. (Like veins and arteries carrying blood, being pumped by a heart through a body.)

There’s a line that goes to Sollux. If he touches it, he can sense that Sollux is playing video games with his dad. There’s some trash talking going on, and Karkat smiles, cheered by the bright line between Sollux and his father. Sollux’s lines go to his father, his great great grandfather, his family, friends and people that are too far away for Karkat to see. He can see how the Captors fit into the town, a little. Doom predicts disasters, disharmony. They’re an early warning system, they’re the IT Department. They’re the Engineers of That Which Prevents Catastrophe.

Sollux stops trash talking midsentence and frowns. “Karkat?”

Karkat startles, suddenly coming awake, a little disoriented and confused. Maybe an hour had passed, according to the clock. There’s a message window from Sollux hovering on the monitor.

TA: wa2 that you ju2t now?

CG: MAYBE?

TA: there i2 no maybe that wa2 a ye2 or no que2tiion.

CG: I WAS TRYING SOMETHING BUT I NOTICED YOUR LINE INSTEAD, SO I TOUCHED IT SO YEAH?

TA: my liine?

CG: I’M SEEING ALL OF THESE CONNECTIONS BETWEEN ME AND OTHER PEOPLE. AND MORE LINES OR PATHS FURTHER OUT. I TOUCHED YOURS, BUT I GUESS YOU SENSED ME? SORRY.

TA: welp.

[twinArmageddons (TA) invited diarchicAccensor (DA) to memo “blood power2 actiivate!”]

[twinArmageddons (TA) invited carcinoGeneticist (CG) to memo “blood power2 actiivate!”]

TA: TA: wa2 that you ju2t now?

CG: MAYBE?

TA: there ii2 no maybe that wa2 a ye2 or no que2tiion.

CG: I WAS TRYING SOMETHING BUT I NOTICED TOUCH YOUR LINE INSTEAD, SO YEAH?

TA: my liine?

CG: I’M SEEING ALL OF THESE CONNECTIONS BETWEEN ME AND OTHER PEOPLE. AND MORE LINES OR PATHS FURTHER OUT. I TOUCHED YOURS, BUT I GUESS YOU SENSED ME? SORRY.

TA: welp.

[diarchicAccensor (DA) banned twinArmaggedons (TA) from memo “blood power2 actiivate” reason: “student consultation”]

[twinArmageddons (TA)’s away message: “II wa2 goiing to leave the memo anyway gramp2” ]

DA: What were you trying to do?

CG: I UH

CG: I WAS TRYING TO SEE IF THERE WAS A WAY TO TELL IF SOMEONE WAS MESSING WITH MY HEAD.

DA: Reading a little ahead or just worried?

CG: WORRIED. I’M NOT SURE OF WHAT I’M FEELING ABOUT ANYTHING. I DON’T TRUST ANYTHING, BUT AT THE SAME TIME I’M JUST ACCEPTING WHAT’S GOING ON, AND I FEEL INVESTED IN CONTINUING THIS WHATEVER IT IS?

DA: The good news is that if you are worried about being made to feel a certain way, you probably haven’t been replaced by a pod person.

DA: But there are ways to make sure.

DA: The bad news is, a sufficiently powerful entity could be making you feel a certain way, and you wouldn’t know it or be able to tell.

DA: So if you’re worried about the Gods doing something, I can’t help you there, or even reassure you, because I’m part of what you don’t trust.

CG: SORRY

DA: Kid, I’d be surprised if you weren’t suspicious. You’re okay. You’ve got good reason to be suspicious and worried, especially how you found out about the cult.

DA: Now, let’s skip ahead a few chapters, and take a look at veiling and other forms of memory alteration Blood is usually pretty resistant to veiling, your Dad being a prime example.

Osiris walks him through a lesson on memory alteration and detection. Karkat takes notes and asks questions. At the end of it, he’s still worried, but he has information and knows a little more about how the Aspects interact with each other. The impromptu lesson takes about an hour, and Osiris signs off with telling him to call him or text him if he has any other questions.

Karkat logs out of Pesterchum at the end of it and retreats to his bed to review his notes and the chapter. He falls asleep like that, surrounded by notes, the book resting on his chest. His dreams are full of disjointed action movie sequences that aren’t in the least symbolic or presentiments.

He sleeps in the next day, and when he wakes up he checks his email, and finds that Kanaya had sent him the directions to her house, and also what time he was supposed to show up. After dressing and brushing his teeth, he wanders downstairs where his dad is in his office, working on the computer. “Kanaya invited me over to her house for lunch,” he says.

Dad looks up from his computer. “Lunch huh? What time, and when will you be back?”

“Kanaya said eleven thirty,” Karkat says. He starts to head to the living room but Dad calls him back.

Dad doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Kanaya is one of the ‘Spouses,’ isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she’s about a year ahead of me,” Karkat says.

Karkat hears Dad think “Child marriage…” with extreme disapproval. He says “will anyone else be there?”

“I don’t think so, maybe her mom?”

“I think I’d like to speak to her mother, before you go,” Dad says. His tone is very I mean business, and Karkat can sense how worried Dad is so he doesn’t even offer a token protest. He gives Dad Kanaya’s number and heads into the living room.

(He really wants to listen in on that call.)

The crow is sitting on the entertainment center, preening itself. “Okay, so are you actually Time, or just His pet death omen?” Karkat asks after staring at it.

“Time had a thought

that winged its way

through the heat of day

what it sought no one knew

soaring in the burning blue

‘til the sun burnt it black,”

the crow says.

“I’m guessing that poem sounds better in the original unspeakable eldritch tongue.” Karkat says. He sits down, turns on the TV and flips through the channels. He can hear Dad talking, but not what he’s saying. Blood was apparently not necessarily a good Aspect for eavesdropping on spoken conversations.

“Enochian,” the crow says, and flaps over to the couch, landing on the arm.

“Really?”

“No.”

There is absolutely nothing on. He ends up watching a horrifying Vegan cooking show on PBS. Dad eventually ends the call about fifteen minutes later and comes out of the office. He stares at the crow, who is now perched on the back of the couch. The crow stares back. “I have no idea how he’s getting inside,” Karkat says.

Dad sighs. “I talked to Ms. Maryam, Kanaya’s mother. She seems like an interesting woman. I don’t have any objection to you going, but try to get home by three.”

“Okay,” Karkat says.

The crow wants to come with, perching first on Karkat’s shoulder, then on the bars of Karkat’s bike. It stretches its whole body out and flaps its wings as Karkat pedals. There’s a few other people on bikes, a small horde of runners, people out walking their dogs. People see him and wave and Karkat waves back.

He’s about a block away when someone suddenly steps out from behind a bush and sticks something in the spokes of the front wheel of Karkat’s bike. Karkat has a brief impression of kid, younger than me, t-shirt before the bike crashes. The crow squawks and flaps as the bike goes down. It flings itself at the kid, who takes off running.

Karkat tries to get up, but finds that the shoelaces of his right shoe have wound themselves around the crank arm. There is something weird going on with his front wheel, though it’s hard to tell from the angle he’s lying in. He thinks he’s mostly bruised and scraped up. Karkat works on getting himself free of the bike. “Need any help?” Karkat looks up and sees a blond kid his own age wearing a t-shirt and cut offs. The kid’s wearing shades, and his hair isn’t so much blond as it is stark white, and actually more like feathers than hair.

Karkat stares, blinks, and the feathers are hair again. “Sure,” he croaks.

Time helps him unwind his shoelaces from the crank arm, and then get the bike upright. The wheel is definitely crooked and some of the spokes are actually broken. “Looks like you’re going to need to get the wheel replaced.”

“What just happened?” Karkat asks, frowning at Time.

“The kid stuck a stick in the spokes of your wheel,” Time replies with exaggerated patience.

“No I mean, was that a part of,” Karkat waves his hand. “Politics, or just some random little shit?”

“Not so random little shit,” Time says. “If it were ‘politics’ there would have been more of them.”

“Yay,” Karkat says sourly. “Can’t you do something? I mean this is all because they don’t want Feferi to be High Priestess right, can’t you tell them to knock it off?”

“Humans are always very obedient and do what they’re told by their gods,” Time says. “That’s what they’re best known for, yep.”

The dry sarcasm made Time seem surprisingly human. Time wasn’t human though, He was an unknowable elder god. Karkat’s very aware of that when he asks, “so, what happened to the kid?”

“The crow just ran him off,” Time says.

“Why is he ‘not so random’?” Karkat asks.

“Because he doesn’t live on this end of town, and he doesn’t know anyone on this end of town, but that’s no reason for him not to be walking ‘round,” Time says. “Little ball of Rage and impulse, it might have been free will, it might have been a push.”

Karkat frowns. “So it might or might not be politics after all, is what you’re saying, am I right?”

Time shrugs. “Something like that.”

Time won’t answer any further questions about the kid, but he does help Karkat get the bike to Kanaya’s house. Karkat’s about fifteen minutes late and Kanaya is waiting for them on the front porch, looking worried. “Karkat, what happened? Are you okay?” she asks, hurrying up to him.

“Someone decided to crash my bike,” Karkat says. “‘Politics’ may or may not be involved; Time was kind of cagey about answering question.” He almost expects a comment from Time, but Time has disappeared. There isn’t even a crow hanging out in one of the trees in Kanaya’s front yard.

“You can leave the bike on the porch,” Kanaya says. “Let’s go inside and get you cleaned up.”

Karkat follows her inside once the bike is up on the porch. Her house has wood floors and there are a lot of pictures on the walls. Some of them are family portraits, but a lot of them are paintings. Still life and landscapes, and a few that Karkat realizes are religious; Believer-religious, anyway. His attention is caught by one painting featuring a boy holding a severed head cradled under one arm, and a bloody sword in his other hand. “That’s Time,” Kanaya says helpfully. “Sometimes when He’s depicted as human, He’s shown holding His Brother’s head, or his body.”

“They uh seemed like They get along though?”

“They do,” Kanaya says. “See how carefully He’s holding Heart’s head?” She herds him into the bathroom, and shows him the medicine cabinet. “Heart is the Destroyer of Souls; sometimes the soul He destroys is His. Time is a God of Self-Sacrifice but sometimes He sacrifices Others.”

“Why would Heart destroy His soul?” Karkat asks.

“A God of Destruction isn’t necessarily a god of disasters,” a woman’s voice says. She steps into the bathroom doorway, Kanaya moving aside to give her room. She’s tall and dark haired like Kanaya, and looks enough like her that Karkat guesses this must be her mother. She’s wearing paint-stained jeans and a t-shirt. She had tattoos; long curling shapes that wound up her arms. “The Destroyer seeks to discover and sweep away flaws. Sometimes, those flaws are His Own. Time and Heart together has a number of metaphysical meanings that might be too boring to go into right now.” The woman smiles. “I’m Porrim, Kanaya’s mother. I’m sorry for not looking presentable enough for my daughter’s guest--”

“Mother,” Kanaya protests. “I never said you had to change clothes--”

“Sweetheart, you said ‘he’ll be here soon, are you going to wear that?’ It certainly sounded that way to me!” Porrim says to Kanaya, who looks embarrassed and flustered. “I was hit by inspiration for a project earlier this morning, and didn’t want to lose it,” she explains to Karkat.

“You’re an artist?” Karkat asks.

“Yes,” Porrim says with a smile. “Should we give you a little privacy while you clean yourself up?”

“Yeah, thank you,” Karkat says.

Porrim absconds, tugging her daughter along with her. Kanaya is still protesting that she hadn’t meant anything about the clothes Porrim was wearing. He can hear Porrim teasing her, and Kanaya continuing to protest, though she’s switched from “mother no,” to “mom stop it!”

Karkat cleans himself up as best he can, and bandages the more nasty looking scrapes. Kanaya is waiting for him in the living room, which has a huge leather couch and a couple of recliners placed around an entertainment center with a huge TV and sound system. There’s more paintings on the walls, and a variety of knickknacks. Porrim is nowhere in sight. “Mom’s gone back to her work room,” Kanaya says. “Everything’s ready to go out to picnic table.”

Karkat helps Kanaya carry trays of food, glasses paper plates and the tea (which it turned out to be iced sweet tea) out to the picnic table. The backyard is full of flowerbeds and a small vegetable garden, with a lot of shade from a couple of apple trees and a huge oak. The fence around the backyard is pretty high, and overgrown with vines. Near the picnic table is a barbecue grill. He sits down, and Kanaya sits across from him. “What happened on your way here?” she asks, putting deviled eggs and sandwiches onto a plate.

Karkat makes a plate for himself, and pours himself some tea as he explains about riding his bike and the kid that had jumped out and crashed his bike.

“Were you able to see who it was?” Kanaya asks.

“Not really, some kid,” Karkat says. “Time said that the crow just chased the kid off.”

“Did He say anything else?”

“Something about the kid being a ball of rage and fear,” Karkat says.

“Rage as in someone with that Aspect?” Kanaya asks.

“Maybe?” He thinks about it. “Probably. He didn’t tell me who it was or anything though. Just said that it was not so random’.”

“He might want you to find out on your own,” Kanaya says.

“Great another ‘quest’,” Karkat grumbles.

Kanaya gives him an interested look. “You were given a quest?” she asks.

“Yeah. Breath and apparently Light want me to find a dragon, and there’s something about a sickle.”

“The sickle of the one who defends,” Kanaya murmurs. “Have you spoken to Terezi at all lately?”

“Not since…everything happened. She hasn’t been to school.” He wants to ask about the sickle, but he’s distracted by what Kanaya says next.

“She was very upset,” Kanaya says.

“Well I was the one chained to a rock in the dark freezing my ass off,” Karkat says, not able to help the resentment or anger. “How the hell do you walk around in there in just skirts?”

“The temple is actually very warm,” Kanaya says. “It likely only felt cold to you, since you were an Outsider.”

“Still pretty much an Outsider,” Karkat says. He takes a bite out of the sandwich, which is thin slices of cucumber between buttered slices of crustless wheat bread. There’s also tuna fish sandwiches and tomato sandwiches and chicken salad sandwiches. “And I’d rather not go back to find out if there’s change in temperature.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Kanaya says. “Spouses all have Temple duties though. We open the festivals for each of the Gods, participate in the coronation of the High Priestess and walk with her in procession for solstice and equinox rites; we participate in the initiate ascension rituals for adepts and priests.” Kanaya describes each of the rites in detail. Festival opening seemed to be mostly a speech from each Spouse followed by an Aspect-themed blessing. The coronation and ascension rituals were a little more complicated and involved supervising fasting and vigils then “attending” the initiates by bathing and dressing them in ritual garments while praying over them.

“Do Spouses out rank priests or something?” Karkat asks.

“We’re more or less equal,” Kanaya says. “We have a more direct connection to the Gods. People come to us for things they can’t or won’t go to a priest for. Advice, a second opinion or ruling of a judgment or penance they didn’t like. People also come to us for mediation they don’t want to take to a priest or proceed secularly, or we might choose to meddle in the affairs of others.”

“Okay,” Karkat says. “Sounds like a lot of work.”

“It can be, Osiris says that it takes years before you’re really comfortable with the responsibility,” Kanaya says. “Would you like to learn some of the blessings?”

“Sure, why not,” Karkat says.

Kanaya teaches him some of the blessings, and talks about advice she’s given at school to other students. When it’s time to go, Porrim drives him home, with the bike in the back of her trunk.

<==

==>

I have a Patreon! Please consider supporting my Patreon I’m currently working on a serial novel called The Forest Room. You can’t go wrong with possible cryptids, jump scares and mysterious pasts. Or maybe drop some money in my PayPal tip jar. (Located in the Tumblr side bar.) Money goes toward rent and lavish delicacies like frozen pizza.

Also there is fan arts from @gmail-gamil

Light

Space

Breath and a few others

Time

Cute~! <3

And one from a while back from @nachttour

Time and Heart.

#homestuck #eldergodstuck #davekat #karkat vanta #godstuck #jadekat #rosekat #dirkkat #fan fic

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youngerdrgrey · 7 years ago

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Ms. Valez and the Very Nice, Very Not-Hers New Family // a Queen Sugar fic

written for #QSweek Day Three: Favorite Supporting Character

about... Ms. Reyna Valez and the intriguing, awe-inspiring Bordelon bunch (basically Reyna appreciates Blue and crushes on his parents, a short moment) + read on ao3

First she falls for the youngest Bordelon, with his kind eyes and exaggerated enunciation. The other teachers tell her every week that teachers need recess too, but Ms. Valez still somehow winds up spending most of her break with Blue Bordelon. At first, he only tells her small things. How he had started a new show, or cracked the eggs for breakfast all by himself without a single shell going in the bowl. And he always twists Kenya — that’s his doll — in his hands while he talks. But that day, the day she realizes just how deep down she cares for him, he lets her hold the doll that he doesn’t even let anyone else touch.

“You’ve got to brush her hair,” he tells her. “With your fingers. I couldn’t brush it today. I had cereal, and it kept getting soggy so I had to eat it real fast.” She combs her fingers through Kenya’s hair and nods, which only bolsters him on. "But don’t worry, Ms. Valez, one day, I’ll make a cereal that’s not soggy. It will last weeks! And still crunch.”

“And still crunch?” She smiles his way, and he nods. “Well, I think that’s exactly what this world needs. More crunchy cereals.”

“You think? I think. And when I figure it out, I’ll make two big bowls. No, four. One for Pa, one for Auntie Vi, one for Hollywood, and one for you!” He glances away. "I know other kids would make one for their moms but I don’t get to see mine a lot. Or ever…. But one day, one day she’s coming back and she’ll pick me up like Trevor’s mom does after school. And you know, my uncle Hollywood says that it’s only a matter of time until my mom gets better.” Then he blinks, as if remembering the rest of something, and his lips pout before he adds, “When she’s ready to be better.” Then he breathes into it, and his eyes look glassy when they meet hers. “Can I have Ken back?”

She has to unwind her fingers from Ken’s body, has to force a smile onto her lips when she hands over the doll. He hugs Ken close once he has her. Hugs her until he can pop his voice back up and get a glimpse of a smile himself.

“Thank you. I want to show Ken the furthest edge of the playground. Okay?” He steps away. “Okay. I won’t cross over. I swear. I do.”

He’s not one of the kids that worries her — not at recess anyway, not physically. But boys like Blue don’t normally get to stay this soft, this hopeful and free. So she waves him off. And when the rest of the teachers gossip about their kids, Reyna keeps her mouth shut. What Blue tells her is none of her business anyway.

(But she wants it to be. Much too much and much too quickly.)

When Ralph Angel arrives — all six feet of him with skin like the pavement after it rains, with the same sort of warmth radiating out from him like the soil in the planters the kids just set up — she needs a moment to process. She doesn’t have long, of course, because a teacher is a teacher first and doesn’t get to have more than fleeting fantasies about her kids’ parents. But the fantasies aren’t quite as fleeting as she’d like them to be when it comes to Ralph Angel.

He never speaks too loud, like he’s afraid of how his voice might leap back at him, how the rich timber will pierce his own ears and trap him against himself. Everybody knows the talk about Ralph Angel Bordelon — how he’d gone to jail and his girlfriend turned to drugs and his sisters barely helped at all. Some of the older teachers speak of him fondly, about the boy who’d so wanted to be a farmer, about the only boy in the family and the only one to mess up. But he doesn’t seem messed up; it’s more like he holds himself as tight as everyone’s expectations try to keep him.

But he smiles at her like he knows how cute he is, like he knows how great the picture of him and Blue looks to girls like her. Girls who pretend like it’s enough to just work and foster and grow. Girls who remind themselves that there’s plenty of time to have her own kids and her own life, and that it will all work out on God’s time. Girls who pause with their fingers pressed to the whiteboard and wonder if their kids will get to have a teacher like her, or a dad like him.

Ralph Angel stands at the doorway after Blue’s already taken off down the hall. He watches after his son, but the rest of his body still angles towards her. Ears still perk and eyebrows still lift when she parts her lips around a half formed question.

“Ralph Angel,” she pauses once his name’s out, and a voice that sounds a lot like her mother’s asks if any of this is appropriate at all. She glances after Blue too. Blue who just wants someone to play with, someone to hear him and care for him and remind him that it’s okay if he doesn’t have real friends just yet. But also Blue who doesn’t quite know the difference between a person who’s meant to stay in his life and a person who’s already gone. Blue needs stability. His teacher dating his father wouldn’t give stability. It’d only bring him more questions, more feelings to furrow his brows and worry his teeth over. He already bites his lips so much they bust.

“Yeah?”

Yeah…. Reyna shakes her head, blinks like she’s flustered, blinks like she wants him to know that she’s flustered. “I’m sorry, I was just wondering if you and Blue would be attending the spelling bee in a few weeks. We’ll have a small one in our class, but the big schoolwide bee usually gets a pretty big turn out.” She gets to host this year. She’ll put the sash on the winning kid and hand out the ribbons to the other children who placed high enough. She has a nice dress for nice dates that she doesn’t have time for, and she’ll wear it with her hair done just the right way that she can duck behind it if she wants to hide a flush of her cheeks. If Ralph Angel’s there, she might push the curls back behind her ears; let him see her. Or maybe she should let them fall. Let them serve as a reminder of the distance she needs.

Ralph Angel nods though. “We could pro’bly be there. Blue’s been working real hard on his words. Spells ‘em in his cereal. Keeps letting ‘em all get all soggy.”

She smiles. “He told me at recess. He wants to invent cereal that never gets soggy.”

Ralph Angel smiles then. Broad and bright and proud. “He could do it too. One day. Don’t you think?”

With them believing in him, “I really do.” She forces herself to take a step back into the classroom and put on her most neutral, professional smile. “Have a good day, Ralph Angel.”

And his lips curve back, and his head cocks to the side enough for that vein in his neck to pulse. Not that she looks long. She doesn’t. But it’s there, just like that smirk of his.

“You too, Ms. Valez. You too.” In the distance, Blue calls out. His voice bounces off the walls without judgment, without fear or hesitation. It snaps Ralph Angel back into the moment, back to his role in this situation. He gives a nod before rounding out the doorway and after his son. “I’m coming, Blue!”

Once Darla’s back in Blue’s life, Reyna sees her more than she ever saw Ralph Angel. Maybe because Ralph Angel has a whole farm to tend to while Darla works a simpler job. Either way, Darla swoops in with sunken eyes and lips that alternate between busting at the seams and glittering under fresh coats of balm. And there’s always a moment, just before Darla sees Blue, where her eyes stretch into their corners and her whole body tenses like someone’s playing an awful joke on her, and Reyna’s chest contracts sometimes before she can tell it not to. That fear’s the kind of fear you only have when you know the weight of a loss, when you know how easily the person you’re looking for might not be there. That fear tells Reyna all she needs to know about whether or not Darla chose to leave Blue’s life for as long as she did. And that light — that spark that shines so bright at the sight of Blue, the one that lifts Darla’s cheeks and eyes and shoulders and sends a little laugh rolling out of her — that tells Reyna all she needs to know about whether or not Darla wants to stick around this time.

Blue finishes packing his bag up against Reyna’s desk. He says, “I’m gonna show her the card at dinner tonight. Think she’ll like it?”

It’s a card from their Random Acts of Kindness activity, one that each kid got to design for themselves. Blue drew a frame on the inside of the card and wrote out the word beautiful in his scrunched up handwriting in the middle of it. And he’d labeled the frame as a mirror to make sure that Darla would get that he’s calling her beautiful. It’s probably the sweetest card to come out of the whole activity, and he’d even stuck the card inside of a book to make sure his construction paper wouldn’t wrinkle.

Reyna drops her voice to a whisper, and she knows her eyes glow right out to his. “She’s gonna love it. Especially because it came from you. And because it’s true.” She lets her voice come back up, mostly so that Darla wouldn’t assume she’s saying something awful now that Darla’s close enough to start to hear them. “Your mother really is beautiful.”

Darla ducks into her hair a moment, then pushes it back with both hands, and nods her appreciation. There’s still a bit of space between Darla and the desk, which is just about enough for Blue to whip around without knocking into anything. He cheers at the sight of his mom, throws himself at her legs, and she just barely crouches down quick enough to catch him in her arms. She still breathes him in like she doesn’t know how long his scent will last. He still squeezes her until his hands and fingers leave imprints on her arms. One day, Reyna hopes, that fear will fade into just an appreciation for the other. But they have a long way to go. A lot of love and a lot to heal. As a family.

Darla just lifts Blue up instead of letting go. Says, “Say bye to Ms. Valez.”

Blue waves, “Bye Ms. Valez! Oh, and I think you dropped something.” The giggle that follows says she probably didn’t drop anything, but she peaks over the edge of her desk to see what’s there. A little envelope, much like the one he’d made for his mom.

She puts on her show voice. “Oh, I wonder what this is.” But when she bends for it, Blue gasps and shakes his head. Pushes at his mom’s shoulders.

“Let’s go, Mom. Right now. Right now!”

Darla lifts both eyebrows, but she doesn’t argue. She heads for the door, says, “Thank you,” and takes him off into the distance.

Reyna picks up the card and opens it. The inside might not be a mirror, but it’s got a woman in a sash like the spelling bee one, and the sash reads, Best Teacher. Her voice comes out a little airy, but she speaks to keep herself from tearing up any further.

“Mr. Bordelon, you little charmer.” A whole family of charmers, of good people with good intentions and probably a dozen more people like her just watching and waiting from afar. They deserve it though. They really are something.

#reyna valez #ralph angel bordelon #queen sugar #blue bordelon #qsweek #queen sugar fic #ralph angel x reyna #but also reyna x everyone tbh bc i just want her to be able to be a part of the family #mine #qs: fics #blue x darla x ralph angel #qs: s1

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deathscar · 8 years ago

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The First Act

(RECOMMEND READING SONG: https://youtu.be/chhksy7wmWY)

Rarity sat silently in the audience, eyes locked onto the man on the stage. The only sound echoing through the club were several soft mutterings. At any other time, she would have listened in on those conversations in hopes of picking up something interesting.

However, today was different.

Rarity took a draw of the cigar between her fingers and exhaled the smoke in one long breath, her gaze still locked onto the man as he took the mic.

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the Everfree Bar!” The man spoke in a deep, rough voice. A small round of applause followed his sentence, though none came from Rarity herself. “Tonight we have our best talents lined up for your listening pleasure! Of course we have to start off strong. So I would like to invite Everfree’s own little canary up on stage. Please welcome… Rarity!”

Rarity smiled, though the expression contained little emotion, almost as if it was out of formality. She placed her cigar gingerly in the smoking tray and stood from her seat. Slowly, she made her way to the stage, making sure to sway her hips with every step she took. That movement, combined with the seductively flowing purple dress she wore drew every pair of eyes onto her and silenced the scattered murmurs.

Exactly as Rarity had planned.

Soon, she found herself in front of the Everfree crowd, her band right behind her. Leaning into the microphone, she whispered softly into it, “I do hope you’re enjoying the performance. And before one of you embarrasses yourself by shouting that I haven’t started to perform…” Rarity paused, taking a glance at the crowd that sat in front of her. “Understand that a true performer doesn’t start performing when she gets up on stage. She starts themoment she stands.”

No one in the club dared to even draw a breath.

“Now that I have your attention.” She turned to the musicians behind behind her. “Shall we begin?”

As if on cue, the musicians begun to play a lively swing tune. Rarity waited for several seconds before belting out in a smooth, silky voice.

“I didn’t know that you collected souls. Gambling fire, rolling bones. I should’ve known you would take it all. I never planned to be your voodoo doll.”

The performance continued without a hitch. Rarity sang several of her most notable hits, eventually reaching her last song. She had fully melted into her performance, drawing the full attention of every single person in the crowd. Some were so entranced by her performance that the ice in their filled whisky glass had begun to melt.

Suddenly, Rarity’s ears caught the sound of the main door opening. She darted her eyes open to spot her new admirers, determined to return to her performance. However, the two people she spotted caused her eyes to open wide in shock.

Oh no, not again.

At the entrance stood a girl dressed in a flawless suit. Atop her head sat a black trilby and just underneath sat her most defining feature; her fiery colored hair. Beside her stood what looked to be a kid, dressed in a sleeveless blue vest worn over a white shirt. However, there was one aspect of her that caused Rarity to do a double take.

It was her rainbow-colored hair.

For a second, Rarity and the fiery-haired girl locked eyes. The girl gave a subtle nod to Rarity, but the singer didn’t return the gesture. Instead, she resumed her performance, occasionally glancing to the duo as they made their way to the table closest to the stage.

———–

“Thank you for being such a captivating audience.”

The crowd erupted into loud applause. Whistling accompanied the clapping as Rarity stepped off the stage. She made her way to the duo and subtly gestured for them to follow. The two girls stood from their seats and followed Rarity to the back of the stage.

“Nice performance, Rarity,” the taller girl complemented, limping forward with the support of the kid beside her.

Rarity turned towards a hallway, strutting forth with unrefined steps. “Let us skip the formalities shall we Sunset Shimmer? What do you need this time?”

“Wow, she’s to the point,” the short, rainbow-haired kid muttered.

Rarity pushed open a door with the word ‘Rarity’ emblazoned on the front and they entered into her dressing room. Though it wasn’t the biggest room in the building, Rarity found little to complain about. It had everything she needed: a washroom, dressing table and closet. A window on the right wall also gave her a good view of the road the club was next to.

“Actually allow me to ask the more pressing question, what’s with the kid?”

“K-kid!? I’m no kid!” The rainbow-haired girl shouted in a gravely voice.

“To be fair Rarity. Rainbow Dash here is not as young as you might think,” Sunset grunted through clenched teeth as she leaned against Rainbow for support.

Rarity sighed in disappointment. “Maturity is not dependent on age, Sunset. I thought you of all people should know that.” She backed up to the dresser, planting her hands firmly on the table while still facing the duo.

“Look Rares, you can berate me another time. But for now, we need help,” Sunset urged.

“Of course you do. You know, one of these days you should drop by and say hi. It’s be a refreshing change of pace,” Rarity remarked with a coy smirk.

“Rares…”

“Very well, what is it this time? Information? Are you planning another heist on the Canterlot Bank?”

“We need a doctor,” Rainbow answered matter-of-factly.

Rarity stood in complete confusion. “Y-you do understand I’m a singer right?”

“We need to know if you know a doctor,” Rainbow explained impatiently.

“Not just any doctor. A trustworthy doctor,” Sunset added. “You know, someone that can hide our…”

“Yes yes, I understand. How bad is the injury?” Rarity inquired.

Sunset started to take off her jacket and with every movement of her arm, she grunted in pain. Once she had gotten it off, she began undoing the top button of her shirt, pulling the left side of it down to reveal several large bruises.

“O-oh dear,” Rarity gasped.

Sunset spun around, revealing two more black patches of skin.

“R-right I’ve seen quite enough. Do I want to know how you got those?”

“Great story, but.” Sunset gasped loudly as she accidentally hit one of her bruises. “I’d like to tell you another time,” she stammered as she begun to pull her garments back up. “Preferably when I’m not in pain.”

“Of course.” Rarity grabbed a pencil and a piece of paper. She swiftly scribbled something on it before folding it neatly into half. She walked forward, pushing it into Sunset’s palm. “Go to that address, it’s only a few blocks from here. Tell the vet there that Rarity sent you”

“Wait wait wait wait,” Rainbow shook her head as she spoke. “A vet? We’re not animals, Rarity.”

“You could have fooled me,” Rarity quipped, much to Rainbow’s annoyance. “I understand it’s not the same. However, that girl is skilled in her field. She might not be able to perform life saving operations but she’ll treat your injuries just fine.”

“And she’s trustworthy?” Sunset asked through pained breaths, her hand pressed against her left ribcage.

Rarity nodded confidently. “I trust her with my life.”

“Great, thanks Rarity. We-”

“Owe you one.” Both Rarity and Sunset said simultaneously and they couldn’t help but giggle.

“Well, yes I shall put it on your tab,” Rarity joked, promoting a staggered laugh from Sunset. “Go. You’ve stayed here long enough.”

“Thank you, Rarity.” Rainbow gave a small, innocent smile.

“No probl-” Rarity’s reply was halted as her ears caught an odd sound. She heard the distinct creak of the wooden floorboards in the hallway. Then silence. Person must be pretty heavy to creak the floor outside.Rarity’s mind raced so quickly time seemed to slow down around her. And all the staff here knows not to bother me after the show. Why would anyone want to find me? Unless they’re not here to find me. They’re here to find… She glanced upwards towards the duo. Immediately, she spun around and opened her dressing drawer before pulling up a pistol.

“Rari-!?”

“Shh,” Rarity interrupted Rainbow as she lobbed the weapon towards Sunset. “Listen to me. In 20 seconds that door is going to open. You’re going to point that gun at me, I’m going to scream and you two are going to jump out the window behind you and run. I’ll buy you guys a bit of time but you guys need to get out of here as fast as possible.”

Sunset nodded and attempted to lift up the gun. However, a sharp pain caused her to drop her arm back down.

“Sunset, you’re hurt…” Rainbow stuttered. Suddenly, the footsteps got louder and a loud creak echoed through the room. Without a second thought, Rainbow snatched the gun and pointed it at Rarity. Sunset opened her mouth to protest but the door swung open just as she was about to speak.

At the doorway stood a tall woman in a brown trenchcoat. It was clear from the gold badge she wore on the front that she was a detective, no doubt having followed Sunset and Rainbow to the club. Her blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail and she stood frozen for a second, as if she was trying to comprehend the scene in front of her.

“What the-” The detective attempted to speak, but Rarity suddenly gave a high pitched shriek.

Taking the cue, Rainbow grabbed Sunset and crashed out of the window with a forceful leap. Sunset barely had time to react to what was happening when she felt her body slam into the cold stone floor outside. Pain shot through her veins, freezing her in place. However, once her mind had caught up to what Rainbow had just done, she shot her eyes open in horror. Adrenaline raced through her veins, forcing her to push herself up and take a glance at Rainbow.

“Rainbow!” Sunset shook her friend roughly, noticing several small, bleeding cuts on her arm.

“Oof… t-that wasn’t so bad,” Rainbow’s legs trembled immensely as she attempted to stand.

“Rainbow that was insane. Don’t you dare do something like this again,” Sunset spoke in a deathly serious tone. Once Rainbow had gotten to her feet, she gave Sunset a wide, confident smile.

“C-come on, let’s get to the doc.” Rainbow stumbled forth, a deep concern growing in Sunset with each passing second. “And hey, at least we’ll get our money’s worth.”

———-

The detective attempted to sprint to the window but she was swiftly stopped by a tug on her sleeve.

“Don’t go Detective. They’re much too dangerous,” Rarity coaxed, tugging softly on the trenchcoat.

“I appreciate your concern, ma’am, but I’m a trained professional. Please step back,” she spoke in a calm yet commanding voice.

“Very well detective.” Rarity lightly released her grip on the sleeve. The detective sprinted forth to the window and glanced out.

“Dammit.” She huffed. “They’re already gone.” She turned around and approached Rarity, who had deeply worried look on her face. “You hurt ma’am?”

“No, thankfully you arrived just in time before those ruffians could pull the trigger.” She sighed. “I apologize if I interfered. I was just so worried about your safety,” Rarity placed both of her hands tenderly on the detective’s arm.

“It’s okay ma’am.” The detective gave one confident nod.

“Call me Rarity.”

“Detective Applejack,” she whipped out a badge from her coat, flashing the shining symbol to the singer. “Would it be alright if I ask you a couple of questions about the two fugitives that just escaped?”

“Certainly not. But would it be alright if we do it over a drink?” Rarity swung her arms around Applejack’s broad shoulders, her mouth drawn up to a seductive smirk.

“Thanks for the offer ma’am, that’s mighty kind of ya.” Applejack smiled softly, giving a small tip of her hat. “but I’m on a case. Can’t drink.”

“Oh what a shame. I earned quite a bit today and was hoping I’d be able to share it with you.” Rarity pulled away, a fake frown on her face. “Well sit tight Miss Applejack. I shall be right back, lady’s promise.”

Applejack could only watch as Rarity sashayed out of the door. She attempted to reason with herself that Rarity wasn’t drop dead beautiful. However, she never could accept lying, even if it was only in her head.

Applejack tapped her pocket, wondering if she could get a drink of her own. Hm? She checked the pocket of her trenchcoat, then the back pocket of her jeans. A sigh escaped her lips and her mind raced to wonder.

Now where did my wallet go?

————- Written on a whim

Inspired by @pasu-chan’s 1930’s Swing EqG AU

If you like my stuff, you can find more on my FiMFiction and you can also follow me on my Twitter!

#swing au #fic #fanfic #story #deathscar's writings #sunset shimmer #rainbow dash #rarity #applejack #noir

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doctortdesigns · 7 years ago

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The latest collection from Simplicity is here, and it’s… and interesting mix of patterns. I have to say I’m really excited by a lot of the brand name/licensed lines. The DC Comics workout gear is totally fab, and there’s a Mimi G. pattern calling my name. Otherwise, though, I’m not too excited by a lot in this release. Which is fine, because I’ve got a huge stash of awesome already calling my name, but I had hoped to see a little more in this release to pique my interest. In any case, there’s a lot of new stuff to look at, so let’s get to it:

8631 – I really like the superhero themed exercise clothes. I feel like they’d be so fun and motivating to wear to a workout! Especially if you happen to workout at Nerdstrong Gym (I don’t, but I really want to). Even without the wonder woman theme, I really like how high the waist band is on all of these leggings – I hate when it feel like things are sliding down in the middle of a workout.

8632 – Again, I really like the leggings here. Looking at the line drawings, it seems the basic leggings and sports bra are the same in each pattern, but a few of the style details and all of the tops have been changed to make the overall look more in character.

8633 – I think the oversized top here is probably the least favorite of the options, but the front cross on the bra is a cute detail.

8634 – I sort of love the back of this shirt top… if you were running I feel like it would flap like a cape!

8635 – The open back jumpsuit seems to be a popular trend with the pattern companies this spring/summer. I think I prefer some of the earlier releases, but there is a very laid back summer vibe coming off of this spaghetti strap version.

8636 – Cynthia Rowley. I’ve never been a fan of the super voluminous patterns on this blog and I’m… not changing my mind now. There is so. Much. VOLUME! Normally I buy quite a few of the Cynthia Rowley designs, but this one is going to be an easy pass for me.

8637 – I think I’ve got plenty of wrap dress options in my stash, but this dress is nice if you are looking for a wrap pattern. The skirt ruffle isn’t too crazy, and it adds a nice summer vibe to the look.

8639 – Mimi G. Style. I feel like I almost really like this dress. The overall silhouette and front ruching are great; it’s the under-bust opening and front slit I’m not in love with. Granted, these would be easy changes, but still something to consider when looking at this design.

8638 – Easy to Sew. Another dress I almost really like. I like the asymmetric neckline, but the overall look of the dress is sort of stiff and awkward. I suppose it’s another look that could be used as a starting point to be altered, but I’m not sure if it is worth the trouble.

8640 – I’m not overly excited by this dress. The shaped hem makes it interesting, but again it’s that super voluminous thing going on that I’m not such a fan of. The red version looks a bit toned down compared to the cream colored view, so perhaps it isn’t terrible. I’d be interested to hear opinions on this look – fab or fug?

8641 – The jumper (pinafore?) style seems to be coming back into vogue in recent years. This version has some interesting pocket seams going on, and the model view is actually cuter than I’d have expected just from the line drawing.

8642 – I don’t think there’s much left to say about ruffly sleeved tops, except, look, another one!

8643 – I’m sort of torn on this top. I think the asymmetry gathered hip thing is cool, but I also feel like it looks a bit messy on the model. But I also wonder how it would look on someone with *ahem* a bit more up top to possible balance it out? Might be worth using some Loft jersey to play with this pattern. And if view D doesn’t work out, view B looks like a safer bet for fall/winter.

8644 – More Cuban Pete couture.

8645 – 1950s Vintage reprint pattern. These tops are actually really cute. They all seem to have a button up back (not my favorite detail), but I really like the front views.

8646 – Learn to Sew the Trends. It’s a pretty simple pattern, but I think it’s a cool idea for a pattern line, to perhaps get younger, newer sewists into the hobby.

8647 – More boxy ruffly things. Moving on.

8648 – I sort of like the top view on the the envelope, where this pattern is being worn as a type of duster. I’m not sure I’m in love with the actual garment photo though. Probably a pass for me, but I do think there are some nice design elements here.

8649 – Easy to Sew. I’m not really that fond of the seaweed seam pants, but I do like the shape of the skirt.

8650 – Learn to Sew the Trends. The skirts look pretty basic, but it is interesting to note that the belt pouch is back as a “trend.”

8651 – Learn to Sew the Trends. I think these shorts, while not exciting, look great for summer. Plus, pockets!

8652 – Very classic pencil skirts. Love the look in a print.

8653 – The wide legged trouser and front tie top seem to have been a major theme in all the big summer collections this year. The high-low hem on the top is an interesting interpretation here.

8654 – 1940s Vintage. Really, this just proves that there is nothing new under the sun. Also, I may have to get this pattern for those pleated shorts… You know. Cuz cosplay. And stuff. Just sayin’.

8655 – Mimi G. Style. Ok, I love me a wide legged jean, so you know these are going on my wishlist. I have, through the wearing of my Ginger Jeans, come to realize I maybe don’t love a high waist as much as I thought, but I might be willing to make an exception here. Plus, I love that this top is clearly intended as a cover up… Perfect for participating in the trend without having to expose the midriff if that is an issue for you.

8656 – Easy to Sew. Despite these being really simple looking patterns, I really like the top and the skirt, though perhaps not so much together? They both look like quick ways to get super classy pieces though.

8657 – Pattern Hacking. I’m not sure how much changing the length of something is a “hack,” but this does look super comfortable and oddly chic.

8658 – Pattern Hacking. There looks to be more “hacking” going on here, but I’m less interested in the basic designs of this simple top.

8659 – 1950s Vintage men’s swimsuit. Can I just say – with that hair he looks just like a Ken doll.

8660 – Kids clothes. I feel like this looks like a super practical pattern.

8661 – More kids clothes. Cute, I guess? I always have a hard time evaluating kids patterns because I feel like, as a kid I was super bipolar towards clothing. Some days I wanted to be a princess and other days I didn’t want to wear any of the awful, ruffly 80s s**t that I had available to me. So, I have no real commentary here, except, look, a dress!

8662 – American Girl. I like the use of trims on the skirts. The embellishment is a nice feature.

8663 – More kids clothes that are in the vein of the popular adult trends. Again, no comment as to the overall aesthetic going on here.

8664 – Charlie’s Aunt bags in four styles. I actually really like the size of the bags; they seem really practical in terms of scale. The bow designs are perhaps a bit sweet for me, but, overall, I like it.

8665 – American Girl. The modern day clothes are great, but I wish they’d offer some of the historical design patterns, because those would be more fun to make.

8666 – I feel like making a button down top on this scale would be super challenging.

8667 – And we have a fluffy cat/unicorn/pegasus/mermaid pillow… thing. Yes, internet, you’ve made life real weird.

8668 – Dinosaur/mermaid sleeping bags. Yup. To be fair, if I was three I’d totally want one.

8669 – 1940s vintage apron pattern. I like view A – it actually seems like a super practical kitchen cover-up.

8670 – Yay cosplay jumpsuits! The seam lines on the body would be great either for color blocking (as shown) or for doing fit alterations.

8671 – Lolita costume. I’m not really into the whole Lolita scene, but there are lots of interesting details on this pattern if that’s your jam.

5555 – Jiffy vintage reprint pattern. This wrap top looks super simple to put together, but I’m wondering how stable it is once you’ve wrapped it on? The fashion illustrations look fab though.

7650 – Vintage reprint. I’m not too excited by this giant looking summer dress. Again – that is just so much volume!

And that’s it! What do we all think? Is this a fabulous summer collection, or does it leave something to be desired? Who else is super excited by the superhero workout gear? What are your top picks from this release? Feel free to discuss in the comments!

Summer 2018 Simplicity Patterns #sewing #Simplicity #SimplicityPatterns #patterns #summersewing The latest collection from Simplicity is here, and it's... and interesting mix of patterns. I have to say I'm really excited by a lot of the brand name/licensed lines.

#pattern #sewing #Simplicity

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ralphmorgan-blog1 · 7 years ago

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My Facebook Account Got Hacked & Taken OverThen God Showed Me I Had a MUCH Bigger Problem

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It’s amazing to me how quickly God can begin to change a heart, and in that vein I’m reminded of a situation that happened to me about five months ago. In the summer my personal Facebook account was hacked, and by hacked I don’t mean someone took my photo and tried to impersonate me. I mean someone used an old email attached to my Facebook account to take control of it and make it their own. I was briefly able to get in and see where he changed my profile picture, added his friends, and posted on my timeline in another language. Then I got kicked out as he changed the primary email and phone number associated with my account. I reported it, Facebook shut it down immediately, and I never got it or my author page back again.

Y’all, I won’t lie; I was devastated. Ten years I held that personal account, and the author page held followers of my blog from across the globe. I ran a lucrative home-based business from social media and a world-recognized blog, and when I lost it all I was downright depressed. God went along to show me I could make money with my business despite the loss of customers, and He went on to give me another viral blog post within a month’s time. After all, God will work out what He wants worked out despite what the world does. It’s my job to remember that.

But back to priorities. It bothered me that losing my Facebook bothered me. You know what I mean? I didn’t want to admit that I had more invested in social media than I really needed, and from that point forward God began to change my way of thinking. I wondered just how much importance I placed on a platform that couldn’t even see my heart but just a tiny little bit. It began an introspection into why what anyone thought even mattered.

It seems we’ve transformed ourselves into a society that is always ready to pose, always ready to document our lives, and eager to see who all approves. I mean, not a single one of us wants to admit it, but how many of us dress our kids for the day with the idea in mind of taking a photo and posting it to Instagram? In our desire to share the highlight reel of every day we’re creating children who place value on how they look, our own identity on how much attention our efforts are garnering, and a mindset that sees life as a stage. We’re all walking around like we have our own personal paparazzi, and we’re equipping our kiddos to assume the same.

What are our priorities?

When I was a kid I got to be a kid. I got to get dirty in my mismatched, ill-fitting play clothes while my disheveled hair, with nary an enormous, matching bow, half-covered my smiling face. It was a face that smiled because it was having fun, not because my mom was telling me to say cheese. My clothes came from thrift stores, and namebrands were not even a consideration. There wasn’t that much of a concern over what all the other girls were wearing, certainly not like it is today. And I am quite certain my mother didn’t give two toots what the other mothers thought about the way she dressed me.

What are our priorities?

So why do we as mothers today place sooooo much importance on the brand our children are wearing, what’s the latest trend, and if they are measuring up to the other kids in class?

Why are we worried about how many extra-curricular activities they’re involved in, and if we’re hitting the mark with our overloaded volunteer activities as a participating parent? Little Susie has to be in dance, gymnastics, and cheer because little Jan’s mom is handling it all just fine, and doesn’t her hair look fantastic?

What are our priorities?

We’re overly concerned with the opinion of our peers, but most of us are not in high school anymore. I think we’ve forgotten that. We think we need the shiny SUV and the big house. Why? Because that’s what everyone else has. Just look at their photos on Facebook.

Easter Sunday becomes about obligatory photos of perfect, smiling faces in beautiful dresses and shiny suits. And don’t forgot about the baskets. My goodness, the baskets! A plethora of photos of Easter baskets that have exploded out of the basket, across the table, and draped itself over the sofa. Easter has basically become Christmas Morning Part 2. But it’s cool because we go to church for like an hour and remind ourselves about that whole resurrection business. Now on to the egg hunt and ceiling-high, chocolate bunnies!

Listen, I’m not saying I don’t dye eggs and give my daughters candy. I do. And that’s fine and dandy. I love tradition. But I wonder how much merit we misplace on these things? When did birthdays become so big that we stress ourselves for the Pinterest-perfect theme, or break the bank on that very photogenic cake? When did we start thinking we have to buy a billion presents for our kids on Christmas? I love giving my children gifts too, but can’t we all be honest that they don’t even play with half the stuff?

So here we are taking pictures of ourselves for social media packing a shoebox for Operation Christmas Child. We’re so proud of that $1 doll we bought for a needy child overseas! Now hurry up and take off work early so you can go put over $500 of plastic parts in layaway for your own little one. Hey, I’m guilty; I get it.

But what are our priorities?

None of us want to downsize from our two story home to a trailer, after all. What would people think? We’ll keep working hours away from our family to pay that big mortgage, and give our spouse our emotional crumbs at the end of the day. We’ll place value on things like a big screen TV and a vacation that pulls out all the stops. I mean, we need that week at Disney together to make up for the fact that we barely see one another the other 358 days a year.

What are our priorities?

Why are we working all the time to buy all the things, and why do we spend such an elaborate amount of time sharing that with basically strangers? I’ve been asking myself the same kinds of questions. We’re living a life where a slow internet connection ticks us off, but we can ignore the homeless guy on the corner, the abused woman in our ladies’ group, or the hundreds or thousands of hungry kids within our own school district.

Recently when we put our house on the market I began to have a lot of people ask me why. They wanted to know our plans.

“Didn’t you just buy that home a couple of years ago?”

“You have a beautiful home! Why would you want to move?!”

I found myself stammering. I wasn’t sure what to say. How did I say, “we’re selling 90 percent of our possessions and going out on the road to spread the love of Jesus to everyone we meet.” It certainly sounded unconventional to me, and last night I realized I might even be a little worried people would think we were crazy. I asked myself what my priorities were. Were they concerns over what others thought of me? Or were they doing the will of God?

Was it stuff that mattered to me, or time with my family?

Was my priority to fit in with the status quo, American dream? I mean, for some people that’s their medium, that’s where they are called to serve the Lord. But what I’m learning as my husband and I seek the Lord about our priorities is it’s not for us. We are being called to something different, and it feels good!

What are our priorities?

I think whether you live in a mansion or a box it’s a good idea to ask yourself what causes you joy in life. Is it others opinions, or actions that are directed towards gaining their approval? Or is it living for Kingdom purposes? Are we teaching our children what society nowadays totes as important, or are we showing them how loving mankind is what truly matters? Are we living in a worldly mindset, or are we looking at life with an eternal view? This life, the one we stress out so much over, it’s just a flash in the pan! So why are we placing so much value on the things that don’t matter? Much of what we’re counting as important is here today, but gone tomorrow. So my question is, are we investing our time and energies in the things we can take to Heaven with us?

What are our priorities?

It’s a good question. It’s one I’m still asking myself every day. As always, I’m a work in progress with many missteps along the way. So while I’m not in any way saying you have to sell all your possessions, give the money to the poor, and move your entire family to a far corner of the planet to serve God, I am saying that we all can be blinded by the things of this world. They’re bright and shiny, and they’re really good at distracting us and taking our eyes off Jesus. So here’s what I want.

I want to live tomorrow seeing with eyes like the Lord much more than I do today. I want to be so in tune with what God wants for my life that I don’t even feel the need to be bothered by anything that He doesn’t want for me. I want to love like He does, give like He directs me to, and keep my focus on what’s important. And when I say give I’m not just talking about money. We are called to give our hearts and time for His kingdom, and I’m wondering when exactly we forgot this part?

So maybe all this sounds crazy to you, and perhaps you’re even laughing. That’s okay. I’m growing more and more towards a place where the approval of man means less and less. I want the light of God to shine out of my life, to love those around me, and to lead others to His face. The rest of it is just busy work. It’s how we spend time until He calls us home. So I figure if I have the time to spend, I might better spend it well, and when I stand before God on judgement day, I hope I’ll see an account of my life that will bring more joy than sadness. It’s good to see that for now I can very well apply editing to images of my day, but I’m wise to realize that one day everything will absolutely be #nofilter.

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Brooke Shields: ‘I got out pretty unscathed’ | Fashion

Brooke Shields has just got back from a lunch at the Lincoln Center, to mark the opening of New York fashion week. At the event, Whoopi Goldberg honoured American designer Thom Browne with an award, and as Shields settles on a pink sofa in the all-white photographic studio where we meet, she tells me she can’t get Goldberg’s speech out of her head,

“I don’t know how old Whoopi is, but she’s got to be 60 or something… She said that it wasn’t until a few years ago that she started feeling comfortable in her own skin,” Shields says. “She’s standing up there and telling an entire room of Fashion Institute people, and Anna Wintour, ‘Think of all the time we waste not feeling good about ourselves.’ You know? It’s exhausting.”

At 52, Shields is in great shape, her athletic 5ft 11in frame maintained with daily workouts and sessions of ashtanga yoga. When the American luxury publication Social Life magazine asked her to pose in white Calvin Klein underwear for a photoshoot this summer, the resulting cover image went viral, setting the fashion world abuzz with rumours that Shields was about to appear in a new campaign for the label she had made famous back in 1980. Attending the Calvin Klein show at New York fashion week in February this year, Shields was mobbed by people wanting selfies with her. Among the guests at the Lincoln Center lunch was Martha Stewart, who marched straight up to Shields and told her, “I can’t wait to see you in Calvin Klein underwear.”

“I said, ‘Well, thank you, but that sort of happened as a fluke.’” In the original Calvin Klein ad, the one that launched a thousand imitations and became the gold standard for controversy-courting ad campaigns, Shields had asked, “You want to know what comes between me and my Calvins? Nothing.” So the underwear shoot, she says, was “kind of an in-joke. You know, what answers that question?” Besides, she says, “I thought, I’d never done underwear – it might be kind of a good message to be a 52-year-old being proud of everything, and being a mom, and working hard at staying in shape… We were just enjoying ourselves.” She gives a look that is at once dismissive and amused – a kind of what-can-I-do-if-I-still-set-the-fashion-world-ablaze shrug.

In the 1980 Calvin Klein ad, shot by Richard Avedon. Photograph: the Advertising Archives

In person, Shields is filterless and funny, hamming up the same vein of self-parody that proved so winning in her more recent comic outings on TV, in Suddenly Susan and Lipstick Jungle. She has just signed on to do five episodes of Law And Order: SVU – “Maybe more if I manage to stay alive,” she smiles. But despite the headlines, she hasn’t agreed to appear in any new campaigns for Calvin Klein. She was approached by the label’s new creative head Raf Simons last year, for her permission to use the 1980 image, shot by Richard Avedon, to be printed on shirt labels.

“I can show it to you,” she says, fishing out her iPhone and bringing up the iconic shot of her, scissoring her feet in the air in jeans so tight they look painted on. (Some stores provided sofas so that customers could lie down as they shoehorned themselves in.) In the TV commercial, Shields memorised and recited an excerpt of Darwin’s theory of natural selection, only to find the subject popping up in a quiz in her science class at school the next day. She got an A.

“I was 15 – it was 37 years ago. You know, it was a lot of work. And I wanted Dick [Avedon] to be proud of me. You just wanted a gold star, you know?”

Pretty Baby, 1978. Photograph: Allstar

The Blue Lagoon, 1980. Photograph: Rex

Endless Love, 1981. Photograph: Rex

Long before Miley Cyrus or Britney Spears, Shields was the most famous teenager on the planet. A shampoo model at the age of 11 months, she appeared in her first film at the age of nine, lit a blaze of controversy when she played a pre-teen prostitute in Louis Malle’s Pretty Baby (1978), and went on to appear in The Blue Lagoon (1980) and Franco Zeffirelli’s Endless Love (1981) – teen films sweet enough to give you toothache. In 1981 alone, Shields graced the covers of more than 30 magazines. A chaste pin-up, she peered out from her lustrous mane of hair, exotic but innocent, a lip-glossed naïf in a culture that has long sought to reconcile competing strains of libertarianism and puritanism. Shields’s virginity, proudly proclaimed in her autobiography, On Your Own, published when she was 20, was something of a national obsession. As was its eventual loss to her college boyfriend and future Superman star Dean Cain, at 22.

“I was famous from the neck up,” she jokes. “All the focus was on the eyebrows or the cheekbones, so you can imagine how easy it was to become a virgin.” She catches herself and laughs. “To stay a virgin, there was something very safe in that. It was a really interesting disconnect. You sort of desensitise yourself to anything sexual. In Blue Lagoon, I’m using a glue gun, taping my hair, anything I can so my body doesn’t show I have boobs… And I didn’t realise I was doing it, because I was a kid. I was in a cocoon with my mom. You know, we were one summer away from Grey Gardens.”

Shields detailed her enmeshment with her mother Teri, who was also her manager, in her unusually candid 2014 memoir, There Was A Little Girl. Her parents had divorced when she was five months old, and Teri raised her daughter alone in Manhattan. A glamorous, life-of-the-party alcoholic, “she drank and cursed like a construction worker” and would sometimes drunkenly haul Brooke out of bed in the middle of the night for a heart-to-heart or a dressing down, or interrupt journalists in the middle of interviews because her twentysomething daughter needed to “go tinkles”. Guarding her daughter’s virtue around the clock, she took control of her career, fending off agents and suitors alike, fearing that it would spell the end of her control over “little Brookie”. “I didn’t know where my mother ended and I began,” wrote Shields, whose immaturity was part of the “brand”. When the Brooke Shields doll rolled off the production line, her mother insisted that they alter the torso to represent her flatter chest. Yet she also pushed Shields towards sexually risque material – commissioning a photographer to take nude photos at 10, the role in Pretty Baby at age 11. Wasn’t she playing with fire?

At an Andy Warhol book launch at Studio 54 in December 1979. Photograph: Bettmann

“She tapped in to that, but by the same token, she wanted it to go away. It was a really interesting disconnect. I didn’t know she was so broken until later in life. She was so amazing on the one hand, but she was so broken.” Now, says Shields, whose mother died in 2012, she looks back and wonders: “Did I want it easier? No. I never wanted anything easier. I do sort of regret having hairdryers with my name on them and a Brooke doll and all these failed endeavours that were cool to do in the 1980s. I mean, what kid says, ‘I love my hair so much that I’m going to create a hairdryer with my name on it?’ Never once was I thinking, ‘I really want to do my own line of clothes.’”

Shields lost herself in her work. “If not for the entertainment industry, I would have been a train wreck,” she writes in her memoir. “The movie business kept me afloat and sane.” On movie sets, at least, her mother could be counted on to behave. Shields’s fame felt bigger than her mother’s addiction. She herself was notably abstemious. Hanging out at Studio 54 with Andy Warhol and Grace Jones, she stayed drug-free and was always in bed by 10pm. She platonically dated George Michael (“Nobody had ever been willing to move so slowly. It must be love,” she later said) and was friends with Michael Jackson. When the roles started to dry up, Shields headed to Princeton, where she earned an honours degree in Romance languages. After graduating and ending her relationship with Cain, she briefly dated Liam Neeson, before meeting Andre Agassi in 1993. The pair married in 1997 but the relationship ended two years later with the revelation that he’d spent part of it hooked on crystal meth. A classic co-dependent move, I suggest: marrying the man who reminds you of your alcoholic out-of-control parent.

With her mother Teri in 1980. Photograph: Ron Galella/WireImage

“Yes. Perfect. And no matter how you try to therapy yourself out of it, there’s clearly something on a cellular level that needs to work through. I think I got out pretty unscathed. Yet I also think I couldn’t have even been with my [now] husband had I not been in that relationship with Andre.”

She’s spent so much of her life running after other people’s chaos, cleaning up: does she wish she had come off the rails more herself?

“Oh yeah. I mean, I’m sure there’s still time, but somehow I didn’t become a tragic figure,” she says. “If I had I would’ve been celebrated. I could’ve come back from the brink and then they’d be like, ‘Oh wait, she seriously wants to be an actress’ or, ‘She’s really got talent.”’ Shields married television writer Chris Henchy in 2001 and has written about the postnatal depression she suffered after the birth of their first daughter in 2003. “Was that my going off the rails?” she asks herself now. “Not really, because it wasn’t a choice. I think my version of addiction was fear of losing control.”

With first husband Andre Agassi in 1994. Photograph: Rex/Shutterstock

A compulsive cushion-arranger, Shields says she fights a losing battle with her neatnik instincts in the Manhattan town house where she lives with Henchy and their two daughters, Rowan, 14, and Grier, 11. Both girls are now roughly the same age Shields was when she first started playing teen Lolitas – a milestone not lost on her. “I want to put a chastity belt on my girls, I get it,” she smiles. She’s finding it particularly difficult with her older daughter. “I’m going psychotic about what I’m dealing with, with men looking at her and looking at her body… I mean, this is my 14-year-old! At the top of the stairs I can see her rolling her skirt up. I’m like, ‘Unroll your skirt.’ It’s a constant negotiation.”

Yet, she says, her relationship with her own daughters couldn’t be more different from the one her mother had with her. “It’s like, ‘What do you mean you don’t think I walk on water? How dare you be so independent? Why are you so healthy?’ I’m like, ‘Wait a minute, I raised you like that?’ All of a sudden I’m jealous of my own kids because I’m thinking, ‘How dare you be so normal?’ You know?”

‘I love making people laugh. It gives me such joy.’ Photograph: Philip Gay for the Guardian

She and her daughters were watching Miley Cyrus perform on The Voice recently (Shields once played Cyrus’s mother in the Hannah Montana film), and she marvelled at the artist’s transition from Disney tween to sexually uninhibited pop icon. The assurance of today’s child stars is startling to her. “To see what she’s done with this princess, basically, adding this explicit, explosive depth to her persona. To see her just get up and start dancing – you watch it and you think, ‘That’s so cool. How did you do that? Where is my version of that?’”

She pauses to think.

“It came in comedy for me,” she says, with satisfaction. “I’ve got zero censorship. There’s something that takes me over physically and I don’t remember a lot of it. Maybe I substituted a little bit of that sexual energy there.” She laughs. “Well, isn’t it chocolate, laughter and sex all release the same endorphins? I love making people laugh. It gives me such joy.”

Cast as a quirky magazine columnist on the television show Suddenly Susan in 1996, Shields earned two Golden Globe nominations and a producer credit; and in 2008 played a movie executive in the alpha-female comedy Lipstick Jungle, adapted from the Candace Bushnell novel. She also played Joey’s delusional stalker in an episode of Friends – which involved maniacally licking Matt LeBlanc’s hands and giving him a passionate kiss, which she later wrote enraged Agassi so much that he smashed up his trophies. Comedy seemed to free her – the chaste teenager whose innocence was a national institution had turned into a blowsy comedian va-va-vooming it across the screen, complete with Lucille Ball-like pratfalls and double-takes. In comedy, she got to perform a kind of voodoo on the Brooke Shields doll.

With second husband Chris Henchy in March 2017. Photograph: Rex/Shutterstock

Shields says she was in Starbucks recently when a young woman asked her, “Can I show you a picture?” and brought out a photo of a for-sale maroon two-door 1983 Mercedes SEC she had recently taken in Jersey City. There was a bumper sticker that read “I ♥ Gstaad” and at the bottom of the sign, in parentheses, were the words “Previously owned by Brooke Shields”. It was the car Shields had bought for herself, two years after making Endless Love.

“Can you believe that? It’s dumb. You’re going to sit on a seat that I sat on? It’s creepy. It’s weird, right?”

She tracked down the seller and rebought the car. Her brother-in-law repainted and repaired it, and Shields now drives the Mercedes around on Long Island, where she has a house. Take it as a symbol of her reclaimed identity. These days, she will sit in meetings with companies who are interested in working with her, and keep hearing the word “brand” – “Well, it’s your brand, it’s your brand!” – and she’ll realise with some pride that, for the first time, her brand is bound up with her and her longevity, not her hair, or chest, or youth.

“I can sit at a lunch today and not think, ‘Oh, I’m so lucky to be here.’ I can think, intellectually, I can have a conversation with anybody. I’ve been around so long, I’m not scared to go and talk to Anna Wintour or whoever. And then I can also say, well, you did have an impact on the fashion industry. And I’m a mom, and I’m a businesswoman. I can go into these meetings now, and I’m not looking over my shoulder saying: is somebody on to me?”

• Commenting on this piece? If you would like your comment to be considered for inclusion on Weekend magazine’s letters page in print, please email [email protected], including your name and address (not for publication).

Styling: Bobette Cohn, assisted by Katherine Askerova. Hair: Dominick Pucciarello. Makeup: Meredith Baraf, both at Bernstein & Andriulli. Digi tech: Joseph Bourduin. Above: dress by Sonia Rykiel. Necklaces by Fruzsina Keehn. Top: sweaters by Sonia Rykiel. Rings by Ayaka Nishi and Kalevala Jewelry

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