#like for all my teen years. i spent them purely online. online and very very mentally ill | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ailuronymy · 3 years ago

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Thoughts on the new discourse? Warrior cats naming conventions and rank names being straight up stolen from native American people? So many people seem to be... Straight up leaving the Fandom or changing all of their fan content and it feels very performative and, people not actually thinking critically and just being scared of getting "cancelled"? I feel like your opinions on these matters are very informed and well written so I wanted to ask given that this blog main theme is, well, warrior cat naming system and that seems to be the main issue of the new discourse.

This is probably going to get long, since there's sort of a lot to say about it in order to talk about this whole thing fairly and constructively, because from what I’ve seen there’s a lot of hyperbole happening, and panicking, and disavowing this series and fandom, and so on, like you say, and also some people genuinely trying to have complex meaningful conversations about racism in xenofiction, and also probably some bad faith actors in the mix--as well as some just... stupid actors. Kind of inevitably what happens when two equally bad platforms for having nuanced discussions--i.e., twitter and tumblr--run headlong into each other, in a fandom space with a majority demographic of basically kids and highly anxious, pretty online teens. I don’t mean that as a criticism of fans or their desire to be liked by peers and “correct” about opinions, it’s just the social landscape of Warriors and I think it’s worth pointing out from the start.

If I’m totally honest with you, if not for this ask, I wouldn’t actually be commenting on it at all, because none of this is going to impact this blog or change how I run it in any way. But since you’ve asked and frankly I do feel some responsibility to try to disentangle things a little for everyone stressed and confused at the moment, because I know a lot of people look to this blog for guidance of all sorts, I’m going to talk about what I think has happened here, and how to navigate the situation in a reasonable way.

Quick recap for anyone blissfully unaware: from what I understand, this post (migrated over from a presumably bigger twitter thread) has got a lot of people very worried about Warriors being a racist and appropriative series, and now are trying to figure out what ethically to do about this revelation. The thing I found most interesting about this screenshotted conversation is that it makes a lot of bold claims, but misses some pretty surprising details (in my opinion). If you do look critically at what is being said, here’s a few things to notice--crucially, there are two people talking.

Person 1 says that a lot of animal fantasy fiction + xenofiction (fiction about non-human/”other” beings, such as animals) is frequently built upon stereotypes of First Nations and Indigenous people, and/or appropriates elements of Indigenous culture and tradition as basically set dressing for “strange” and “alien” races/species etc., and this is a racist, deeply othering, and inappropriate practice. This person is right.

I’ve spent years researching in this field specifically, so I feel pretty confident in vouching (for whatever that’s worth) that this person is absolutely right in making this point. Not only is it frequently in animal fiction/xenofiction, but it’s insidious, which means often it’s hard to notice when it’s happening--unless you know what you’re looking for, or you are personally familiar with the details or tropes that are being appropriated. Because of the nature of racism, white and other non-First Nations people don’t always recognise this trend within texts--even texts they’re creating--but it’s important for us all, and especially white people, to be more aware, because it’s not actually First Nations’ people’s responsibility to be the sole critics of this tradition of theft and misuse. Appropriation by non-Indigenous people is in fact the problem, which means non-Indigenous people learning and changing is the solution.

Person 1 offers Warriors as a popular example of a work that has this problem. Notably, this person hasn’t given an example of how Warriors is culpable (at least in this screenshot and I haven’t found the thread itself, because the screenshot is what’s causing this conversation), only that it’s an example of a work that has these problems. And once again, this person is correct. We’ll look at that more in a moment.

Person 2 (three tweets below the first) offers, by comparison, several more specious insights. Firstly, it’s really, really not the only time anyone’s ever talked about this, academically + creatively or in the Warriors fandom specifically, and so that reveals somewhat this person’s previous engagement in the space they’re talking into re: this topic. In other words, this person doesn’t know what has already been said or what is being talked about. Secondly, this person explicitly states that they “[don’t know] much about warrior cats specifically but from what I see it just screams appropriation,” which as a statement I think says something crucial re: the critical lens this person has applied + the amount of forethought and depth of analysis of their criticism of this particular series.

I’m not saying that using twitter to talk about your personal feelings requires you to research everything you talk about before you shoot your mouth off. However, I personally don’t go into a conversation about a topic I don’t know anything about except a cursory glance to offer bold and scathing criticisms based on what it “just screams” to me. By their own admission, this person isn’t really offering good faith, thoughtful criticism of the series, in line with Person 1′s tweet. Instead, Person 2 is talking pretty condescendingly and emphatically about--as the kids say--the vibes they get from the series, and I’m afraid that just doesn’t hold up well in this court.

So now that there’s Person 1 (i.e., very reasonable, important, interesting criticism) and Person 2 (i.e., impassioned but completely vibes-based opinion from someone who hasn’t read the books) separated, we can see there’s actually several things happening in this brief snapshot, and some of them aren’t super congruent with each other.

Person 1 didn’t say “don’t read bad books,” or that you’re a bad person for being a fan of stories that are guilty of this. They suggested people should recognise the ways xenofiction uses Indigenous people and their culture inappropriately and often for profit. My understanding of this tweet is someone offering an insight that might not have occurred to many people, but that is valuable and important to consider going forward in how they view, engage with, and create xenofiction media.

Person 2 uses high modality, evocative language that appeals to the emotions. That’s not a criticism of this person: they’re allowed to talk in whatever tone they want, and to express their personal feelings and opinions. However, rhetorically, this person is using this specific language--consciously or subconsciously--to incense their audience--i.e., you. Are you feeling called to action? What action do you feel called to when you rea their words, despite the fact their claims are not based in their own actual analysis of or engagement with the text? It’s, by their own admission, not analysis at all. Everything they evoke is purely in the name of “not good” vibes.

Earlier I mentioned that Person 1 is correct that Warriors is absolutely guilty of appropriation of First Nations and Indigenous people and culture. I also mentioned that they didn’t specify how. That’s because I think the most egregious example is in fact the tribe, which in many ways plays into the exact kind of stereotyping and appropriation of First Nations Americans that Person 1 mentions, and not the clans, contrary to Person 2′s suggestion. For instance, in addition to the very loaded name of “tribe”, there’s a lot of racist tropes present in how that group of cats is introduced and how the clan cats interact with them, as well as the more North American-inspired scenery of their home. It’s very blatant as far as racism in this series.

When it comes to the clans themselves, though, I think it’s muddier and harder to draw clear distinctions of what is directly appropriative, what is coincidentally and superficially reminiscent, and what is not related at all. Part of this difficulty in drawing hard lines comes from the fact that, on a personal level, it actually doesn’t matter: if a First Nations person reads a story and feel it is appropriative or inappropriate, it’s not actually anyone’s place to “correct” them on their reading of the text. Our experiences are unique and informed by our perspectives and values, and no group of people are a monolith, which means within community, there will always be disagreement and differenting points of view. There is no one single truth or opinion, which means that First Nations people even in the same family might have very different feelings about the same text and very different perspectives on how respectful, or not, it might be.

I’m saying this because something that gets said very often when conversations of racism and similar oppressive systems present/perpetuated in texts comes up, people frequently say: “listen to x voices.” It is excellent advice. However, the less pithy but equally valuable follow-up advice is: “listen to the voices of many people of x group, gather information and perspective, and then ultimately use your own judgement to make an informed opinion for yourself.” It means that you are responsible for you. The insight you can gain by listening to people who know topics and experiences far better than you do is truly invaluable, but if your approach to the world is simply to parrot the first voice, or loudest voice, or angriest voice you come across, you will not really learn anything or be able to develop your own understanding and you certainly won’t be making well-informed judgements.

In other words, one incomplete tweet thread from two people who are each bringing quite different topics and modes of conversation (or perhaps gripes, in Person 2′s case) to the table is not really enough to go off re: making a decision to leave a fandom, in my opinion. In fact, I think in responding to anything difficult, complex, or problematic (which doesn’t mean what popular adage bandies it about to mean) by trying to distance yourself, or cleanse of it, will ultimately harm you and will not do you any good as a person. It is better, in my opinion, to enter into complex relationships with the world and media and other people in an informed, aware way and with a willingness to learn and sometimes to make mistakes and be wrong, rather than shy away from potential conflict or fear that interacting with a text will somehow taint you or define your morality in absolutes.

So. Does Warriors have racist and appropriative elements, tropes, and issues in the series? Yes, of course it does, it’s a book-packaged series produced by corporation HarperCollins and written by a handful of white British women and their myriad ghostwriters. Racism is just one part of the picture. The books are frequently also ableist, sexist, and homophobic (or heteronormative, depending how you want to slice it, I guess), just to name some of the most evident problems.

But does the presence of these issues mean it’s contaminated and shouldn’t be touched? Personally, I don’t think so. Given the nature of existing the world, it’s not possible to find perfect media that is free of any kind of bias, prejudice, or even just ideas or topics or concepts that are challenging or uncomfortable. I think it’s more meaningful to choose to engage with these elements, discuss them, criticise them, learn from them, and acknowledge also that imperfection is the ultimate destiny of all of us, especially creators.

I’m not saying that as a pass, like, “oh enjoy your media willy-nilly, nothing matters, do what you want, think about no-one else ever because we’re all flawed beings,” but rather that it’s important not to look away from the problems in the things we enjoy, rather than cut off all contact and enjoyment when we realise the problems. That doesn’t mean you have to only criticise and always be talking about how bad a thing you like is either, publicly admonishing yourself or the text, because that’s also not a constructive way to engage with media.

As I said, there’s a lot to say here, and believe it or not, this is honestly the shortest version I could manage. There’s always more to say and plenty I haven’t talked about, but pretty much tl;dr:

I don’t find Person 2′s commentary particularly compelling, personally, because I think it’s a little broad and a little specious in its conclusions and evidence, and I also suspect that this person is speaking more from their feelings than from a genuine desire to educate or meaningfully criticise, unlike Person 1. That’s not to say Warriors isn’t frequently racist and guilty of the issues Person 1 is discussing, because it is, but I don’t think this tweet thread is a great source of insight into the ongoing history of this problem in xenofiction, or Warriors specifically, on its own. I would recommend exploring further afield to learn more from a variety of sources and form your own opinions. I hope this helps.

#just in case anyone sees this post and gets the wrong idea: i'm not inviting debate on this.#i am saying that first nations people are allowed to have ANY relationship with texts because that's how subjectivity works.#they are allowed to have negative neutral or positive experiences of texts--even 'bad' ones that have a lot of problems.#the people in this tweet are just talking about their thoughts and it's their bad luck the world's a public forum and it's spiralled.#the other thing i am saying is that if your approach to media is exclusively to cut out any problematic text like it's a cancer #that's not a great strategy. just straight up. you're better off developing critical insight and your own opinions and confidence.#by most parameters i can think of warriors as a series pretty much sucks really bad and i've been saying that for nearly ten years.#despite being so phenomenally flawed it can still have value--and much of its value in my opinion is IN these conversations about it.#so yeah tl;dr 2: i'm not here to slap-fight with teens which is what much discourse devolves to after 5 mins on tumblr so don't try it.

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itsmeevie01 · 4 years ago

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A Moment in Time

ok, so. a little disclaimer before we get into the good stuff. Cannon is in no way whatsoever being followed in this. honestly? im not even sure that i REMEBER cannon at this point. that said, cannon is non applicable. at. all.

moving on. YES, i WILL finish B!DBWM stuff eventually. but uh...not today. i just mentally cant. it. will. come. when. my. brain. can. handle. the. world. that. i. had. tailored. for. it.

ALSO this is going to be kinda sporatic, but the goal (not end all be all but) is to have this wrapped in a pretty little package and finished (at least on my end) by the end of february.

and now....onto the stuff you came here for!

---

Marinette was running late to school when she met him. She ran into the boy and stumbled back, flailing to catch herself before she fell. He looked down at her owlishly, before looking around. By the time he had returned his gaze to her, the teen had pulled herself back together. He smiled and nodded at her, before moving to go around. When Marinette had pulled herself together enough to call a short “sorry!”, He was already gone.

That was three weeks ago. Now, she was looking at a picture of their interaction, where it blared on the front page of the newspaper that Jagged had sent her. When Marinette had received the package, she had been confused. Jagged wasn’t supposed to send her another demo for a few weeks. They were still working on singles. When she had opened the box and found five different American publications with her on their front page, the teen designer had shrieked. With shaking hands, she picked up the top one and studied the headline.

HAS BRUCE WAYNE’S WARD FOUND PARISIAN LOVE?

The bold text was catching, sure, but Marinette was caught on WHO it was placing her with. Someone she had never met. The second one had a picture of her next to Jagged at an event, and a picture of the boy next to a blonde girl. The headline wasn’t much better than the first.

TIMELINE OF THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN MDC AND THE HEIR TO WAYNE INERPRISES.

The teen snorted. She was starting to see the pattern. Putting the tabloid down the girl moved onto the next one. This one had, once again, a zoomed in picture of the five second interaction between her and a stranger. The title, however, was different than the first two.

ALL OF BRUCE WAYNE’S CHILDREN, AND THE INSIDE SCOOP ON HIS NEWEST DAUGHTER

She squinted, laughter bubbling up a little as she observed the piece of fiction. Whoever the Bruce Wayne was, Marinette hopped that he was able to combat this, because she had no intention of letting this fly.

Tim and Bruce were staring at the pile of papers in mild shock. When Jared had reached out to them in mild panic, they had been confused. His panic had been explained when the rocker had arrived carrying a stack of tabloid literature a foot thick. When he had thunk’d the stack down on Bruce’s desk, the businessman’s shock had been more than notable. When Tim had picked up the first few publications the initial look on his face was mirth, but it quickly morphed into shock, then panic. When he handed the top item to Bruce, the older man frowned. When the second pamphlet made its way to his hands, Bruce paused. His next move was to call the Wayne family lawyers. when he turned back to his old friend, all the faces in the room told the same grim tale of what was to come.

When Tim found out that it was Jared’s niece that he had accidentally run into in the brief moment in Paris, he wasn’t sure whether he should be more stressed by it, or if it was by pure luck. When Bruce’s friend went on to explain that the girl would probably already suing the reports and papers that had published the rumor, the young CEO was impressed. To have a lawyer on hand like that was…surprising, considering that she couldn’t be older than 18.

When he asked the rocker if he thought the girl would let anyone go after her, he laughed. Then, Jared Stone explained that the girl was known in Paris for squishing rumors with surprising efficiency.

That evening, Bruce invited his childhood friend home for dinner, and the star spent the evening telling stories of their capers as children, with Alfred grimacing in agreement with the stories. Partway through dinner, Jared’s phone went off. While the rest of the family tensed, glancing to Alfred, their guest frowned at his phone before rushing to answering. “Hey Little Rocker! How’s Pari- oh. So, Penny was more efficient then I thought she’d be. I- yes I figured that you may want to hear. Do- No! Marinette, what!” here, the man paused, his head cocked to the side, his eyes screwed up in thought. “No luv! Sue them within an inch of their lives! You more then have that right.” Here, the rocker paused before he laughed. “Tell that buzzing bee of yours that she’s a good friend. Alright, Miss Mari. I’ll ring you when I’m back on that side of the Atlantic.” He laughed again, “See you soon, Marinette.” The table stayed quiet, waiting for the man to give an indication on the status of the conversation. “Well, Brucie, expect to hear from my niece in the next few day, or at least, her team of lawyers.” the Wayne patriarch blinked before nodding in hidden surprise.

When the family was talking during patrol that evening, Tim grumbled. The 18-year-old was still taken aback that the press had even seen the momentary interaction almost a month ago. As his brothers listened in, many of them started to make fun of the teen. When Jason tuned in, he dropped in the middle of tale. At his confusion, Tim sighed and started over, again. While the family was laughing over his run-in with the press, the former Robin shook his head and silenced his family. He had a feeling he wouldn’t live this one down for a while.

Originally, Jason had found Tim’s predicament hilarious. Of course, the kid had to have the worst run-ins with the press. Then, he had picked up one of the many tabloids with the story. When he had seen the pictures, all mirth left the resurrected vigilante. The noirette that was looking up at him from the page? Yeah. He knew her. Better than anyone else, actually. With shaking hands, the young man paged to the story. What he found was…illuminating. So. She had been adopted. In France. In Paris. After forcing his lungs to draw breath, Jason pulled out his phone. He had arrangements to make.

The day after Jagged had sent her the gossip rags that were considered journalism, Marinette strode into school with a scowl so ingrained in in her features that anyone who didn’t know her would think the expression was permanent. When she stalked into the Lycée classroom, Chloé grinned at her from where she had settled in the front row. Marinette nodded at her friend as she slid in next to her. Lila came skipping in moments later, a cruel smile playing on her lips, before falling when she saw the bone quaking scowl resting on her nemesis’ face. “oh Marinette! Did something happen? Did…did you anger your parents? Did they find out about all those men?” the other girl huffed before turning to her. Lila froze as she was met with the iciest glare that she had seen in years.

“oh Lila. That’s so cute. It almost sounds like you still think that your little stories affect me at all. That’s…adorable.” The Italian girl shrunk under the younger girl’s stare. Suddenly, she understood why people had been warning her to leave the teen alone. this girl, she was brutal. “lucky for you, you’re not the one I’m after, this time. My lawyers have bigger fish to fry.” The newer addition to the classroom gulped, her throat suddenly very dry. It occurred to her that maybe Marinette had let her take control of the class. After all, if they turn that easily, why would she want them for friends. The smaller girl nodded as she watched the realization run over Lila’s face. Raising her eyebrows, the Eurasian girl motioned her classmate along, sending a cruel smile after her.

Chloé waited until the little liar was gone before giggling at her friend’s reaction to the girl who had become their daily annoyance. “I’m guessing you saw what’s been running in the American news? I thought it wouldn’t take long for you to respond. Are a plethora of lawsuits on the way?” Marinette giggled slightly as her severe demander giving way to the internal glee that was consuming the teen over the sheer chaos that was to come.

When Jason touched down in Paris, he tensed. The atmosphere in the city was less carefree than he remembered. There was an air that actually reminded him of Gotham. Tense. Waiting or the other shoe to drop. The expectation that your day was going to go wrong set from the moment one woke up. Pulling out his phone, the Gotamite looked up the address to the bakery that he had found when digging online. If today went the way he was hoping it would, the bakery would be his only stop for the day. Of course, he didn’t count on Gina.

When she called him over from where she was standing by her bike, Jason had to smile. The woman was part of the reason that he wasn’t still camping out in Gotham, waiting to kill a certain billionaire. Once the spry biker had latched onto his arm, the young man knew that his mission would have to wait just a bit. After all, he owed Gina almost everything he had.

#maribat #sibling!jasonette #platonic jasonette #timari #ml x dc #mlb #bamf marinette #chaotic marinette #oh shit i did a thing #theres more to come #my writing #a moment in time fic

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mangozcat · 4 years ago

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hi hi!! It’s a request- uhm can you do a Jeno fluff where it’s a best friend to lovers and you both just slowly fall in love with each other..? Thank you🥺🥺🥺 -🦋

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. lee jeno x fem!reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. fluff, best friends to lovers, tiny bit of angst 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. it was under horrible circumstances that you met. everything seemed dimmer, you felt unmotivated and worst of all; lonely. but then there he was, with a big gummy smile on his face, purely there to lift your spirits. it felt like fate, and if you could go back, you’d fail seventh grade all over again just to meet him.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. hi! I’m so sorry that this took absolutely ages. it took a long time for my brain to come up with a way to write a slow burn, since I’m not really good at that kind of stuff. so, I put a ton heart into this because this is actually based off of my life! I substituted jeno for my childhood friend and everything that happens in this story is very much real (minus the romance), which is why it’s so personal to me. I hope you enjoy this and that it’s not a huge let down!

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐄𝐓 𝐉𝐄𝐍𝐎 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋. it had been under rather unfortunate circumstances, to be honest. having just been forced to go through with your seventh year of school again, it was depressing, especially since you had already done half of it the year before. but in a sense, you were also grateful for your lack of worth ethic in online school, because it allowed you to return during the second portion of the year and meet him.

he was cute and particularly sweet. the first things that had drawn you to him were his chubby cheeks and beaming smile. he was the epitome of child-like innocence. you noticed quite quickly from the one class you shared with him that he enjoyed mixing work and play. he was sure to ask questions about the lesson at hand, not afraid of it embarrassing him. after all, failing would just embarrass him more. but at the same time, jeno was carefree, funny, and loved to joke around to lighten the tension in the classroom.

at first he hadn’t really noticed you. he knew there was a new girl in his class and that you were supposed to be a grade ahead, but he wasn’t too caught up in your arrival like some other people were. they would bombard you with questions about where you came from, forcing you to re-explain the situation for about the eighth time within three days. after awhile, you stopped counting.

but it was when you slipped during class that he finally noticed you. it wasn’t a mocking kind of attention, nor was he laughing to humiliate you. he did laugh at the incident, but to be fair, you laughed too. and to make up for it, he even helped you get up off the floor. “some shoes need better grip,” you had huffed out, patting down your shirt.

jeno had smiled, releasing a small laugh, agreeing wholeheartedly as he slid his foot along the slick floors, pointing out how his foot was sliding too. “it’s the floors,” he said, walking over to where the computers were stacked neatly in a pile, making you follow after him to keep up. you used him as a little guide as to what you were supposed to be doing in the class; after all, he had been there for a half a year and you were there for a mere few days. “they hardly clean them, and when they do, it’s left slick with water. so either way, it’s a lose-lose situation.”

you had shrugged during that time, simply accepting that things happen, people slip, but that you always had to get back up.

you weren’t aware, at the time, how easy it would be to fall into routine with jeno. grabbing computers together, holding small conversations during that time. and when he had to go back to his desk, he’d always shoot you friendly smiles during the lesson. the two of you even began eating lunch together and he introduced you to his friends.

they were definitely not as open to the idea of adding someone new to their friend group. you understood that part pretty well. when you were still in your correct grade, with the people you grew up with, it always felt strange when someone new joined the school. it wasn’t that you were a rude person or incapable of allowing others in, it was merely the fact that it felt odd; wrong. the group had been formed for so long that any foreigner being spotted within its’ bounds seemed off.

it took a long time to get used to, for both you and them. seeing this new face daily, beginning to get to know someone new. it was uncharted territory, or at least, it was a land they hadn’t explored since they were little. but you managed to bond, slowly but surely, with the other boys and began getting comfortable around them.

and over time, the pain of not seeing your former friends slowly eased away.

he was helping you more than he realized, especially since people had taken more to just staring at you than approaching. they were interested in you for sure; your origins, why you weren’t in the correct grade, everything about you. but no one actually put in enough effort to say anything aloud or ask questions, or simply be near you at all. they simply watched from afar.

jeno hadn’t exactly done any different, it was all circumstantial. but after your odd meeting, he put in effort to keep the friendship alive, surprising you. he was a friendly guy, not just to you, but to everyone else too. it was reassuring in a sense, to know that you had this nice guy by your side. you got to see him every morning, and he brightened your day more than he’ll ever understand.

jeno was your anchor. he always helped you do homework, helped you find your way to the classrooms that you had never visited before, or that had changed teachers. and often times, he’d walk with you to class. it was the start of a beautiful friendship, and you had nothing but your failure to thank for it.

sometime during your school years, jeno started changing. he was quickly becoming a handsome, well-mannered young man that had the hearts of young teens clenching tightly. they were all desperately whipped for him, and while you had to admit that yes, he was handsome, you had been friends for too long for it to change.

you were satisfied with jeno’s friendship and were appreciative of his comforting presence.

to put the progression of your friendship into words would be far too difficult. emotions? easy; there was a lot of hesitance, but then came happiness and this sudden feeling of peace. everything slowly became natural, and you had found yourself residing within the comfort of his arms.

“you gonna eat your fries?” you asked, looking up to see his face. sat between his legs, head on his shoulder with a book between your hands. one earbud was in your ear, the other in his. he shook his head, running his fingers through your hair soothingly and letting you reach over to steal the fries from his tray.

this was how most of your lunch periods went by. seeing as you and jeno shared one or two classes each year (excluding the one unfortunate year where you shared none), you’d spend all of your lunch period together. using it as time to bond and catch up. most of that time was spent in silence. it was comfortable. bot much was required to say aloud and it was just nice, sweet, peaceful silence.

jeno’s eyes were closed behind you, his head lolling to the gentle music running into both of your ears. he was rocking the two of you back and forth easily as you continued to read, vividly imagining the scenes from the book coming alive. you’d imagine the fierce lions and big cats jumping from the bushes and darting across the courtyard clearing, excited to taste the freedom of what they had been dreaming of; escape.

you never did understand why getting lost in books was so easy. maybe it was just because of the escape the inked words allowed you to have. but it always a fascination, an obsession of yours. words seemed to so easily get up and dance along the lines, shimmying their way into your mind and easily imprinting an image within your brain. stories were your safe zone, your getaway. they helped you collect your thoughts and rearrange them prettily upon your shelves.

you just adored books.

when jeno’s grip on you tightened considerably, pulling you back into him, you let out a small laugh. the boy cuddled his head into the crook of your neck and shook his head, making a ticklish sensation erupt upon your skin. giggling to yourself mindlessly as you squirmed in his arms, he simply smiled to himself. reaching forward, he grabbed the book from your hands.

“now that I have your attention,” he started, making you turn slightly so that you could see his expression. a beaming smile was dancing across his lips, making you mirror it. his eyes dazzled under the light of the sun and you wondered how you’d never realized how pretty his eyes were. they were dark, almost chocolate-colored. they were comforting, you noted.

“I require your assistance, m’lady.” he said cheekily, making you roll your eyes. lightly slapping at his chest, you whined out a sound of annoyance. he had adopted the formality after some play you performed in when you were kids, you being the juliet to some boy’s romeo. he knew you hated it.

“it was one play, jen!”

he grinned. nodding to himself, “yes, it was one, very interesting play that I swore to never forget. I’m simply sticking to my word!” letting out a little laugh at how utterly disgusted you seemed at the reminder of that stupid play, here shook his head; he’d let you off the hook this time. “anyways, I need help on the homework.”

huffing to yourself, you leaned out of his embrace for a minute to grab the paper out of your backpack. handing it to him, you leaned back into his arms. grabbing the earbud from his ear, you plugged it into your own as you let your senses become overwhelmed by the music.

jeno had frowned to himself, but didn’t argue as he copied from your paper.

there comes a point in everyone’s lives where they get into their first relationship. whether it’s some childish kindergarten one or a serious one in college, it happens eventually. it doesn’t have to last forever, nor does it have to be this groundbreaking first experience. it’s a relationship, that’s all.

or at least, that’s what you thought about your first relationship. there wasn’t any magic, no earth shattering love or groundbreaking first times. it was plain, you realized. you didn’t realize that relationships were supposed to be special. they were supposed to make you feel loved and appreciated, and make you feel as though you belonged. you didn’t know that. after all, how could you, when you had never truly experienced the true love of what a relationship was meant to represent?

when you saw people on tv or around campus, you couldn’t help but notice the things in their relationship that wasn’t in yours.

they held hands and exchanged public affections. your boyfriend rarely ever spared you a glance, nor did he put any effort into spending time with you. most people would be eager to spend time with the person they claimed to love. it would invoke excitement even at the mention of being near them. so how come, despite sharing four classes, there was always distance between you? over half of your day was spent together, seats right beside each other, projects intertwined because you were partners. so why did everything feel so wrong?

you liked him, you really did. but every day you regretted ever dating him to begin with. it was such a kick to the gut when you remembered that it was him who asked you out, who put so much love and care into your first date. and that at the same time, it was him who seemed to avoid your existence in general.

“y’know, staying in your bedroom isn’t helping,” you heard jeno sigh from the doorway of your room. your mom surely let him in, you knew, as you huffed at the intrusion. he glanced around at the messy space and raised a brow at it’s appearance; you were always the tidy type.

peace and quiet was never going to come, was it?

“am I not allowed to wallow in my misery?” you said, peeking your head out from under the covers, your eyes filled with unshed tears. jeno knew well enough about the incident. it wasn’t some well kept secret, seeing how public the display of anger was. your boyfriend had yelled at you in the middle of the courtyard, leaving you humiliated and lonely.

jeno only sent you a comforting smile to cover up his own frown. holding up a box of cookies, he shook them eagerly as he came bounding into your room. taking his shoes off in a hurry, he declared, “well, as long as I exist, you aren’t allowed to do anything alone!”

a small smile bloomed on your face as he crawled over your bed, resting himself behind you, atop the covers. you turned around, coming face to face with the beaming boy. sending him a small, sad smile, you finally caved in and rolled yourself into his open arms. he only patted your back, chin atop your head as the two of you shared these simple, though comforting moments together.

you both knew that your heart hurt. but at the same time, you desperately tried to cling onto the few good memories of him that you had. he still loved you, he promised he’d always love you. the reality was simply to hard to accept, and you knew that if you actually faced it, it’d only make you hurt more.

he did love you.

when your boyfriend finally broke it off with you, you were left feeling like a used toy. useless, worthless, so incredibly naive. you ended up hiding away in your room, begging your mom to not let anyone in so that you could be alone. you didn’t want to be alone, but the thought of having anyone with you also felt so miserable and embarrassing.

it had been a few days since you closed yourself off. you struggled to attend school and the rare times you actually showed up, you avoided all traces of humanity. it felt like eyes were always on you, following you around. you felt so unexplainably exposed under their gazes.

when jeno showed up at your doorstep for probably the tenth time since the breakup, you were beginning to get tired. you missed your best friend, but at the same time, you were so overwhelmed by what you were feeling. your mom was probably the smartest person in your life, so when she let him in, you were both confused but also didn’t want to question her reasons.

mom knows best, you had been told.

you could hear the padding against your stairs as he practically ran up the flight, bouncing between steps. he didn’t even bother knocking on your door before opening it, staring at your figure sprawled across your bed. tear-stained cheeks and eyes that seemed to be so far away; the windows to your confused and lost soul.

but you were surprised to see the same thing reflected in his face. he had bags beneath his eyes as if he hadn’t been sleeping. he seemed visibly thinner, almost as if he wasn’t eating properly. and his hair was messy, his clothes still what he woke up in. he was unkempt, to say the least.

the first thing he did was meet you on the bed. arms instinctively wrapping around your figure and drawing you as close as possible, though his grip remained gentle, as if he’d break you. you sniffled instantly, tears swimming in your eyes as you buried your head in his neck. he had pulled you into his lap sideways, supporting you with his arms.

“talk to me,” he whispered out into the crown of your head, showering your hair in gentle, wisp-like kisses.

“I feel,” you started, biting back the lump in your throat and fighting off the tears threatening to escape your eyes. your eyes glossed over as you took in a long, shaky breath of air. “so, so alone. my mom’s here, and I see her every morning. and I go to school and talk to people but-”

suddenly, his hands were on your face, making you look at him. his brows were furrowed, his chocolate eyes hurt. “you aren’t alone,” he said your name sweetly, surprising you in how softly it slipped from his lips. “I’m here, I always have been, and I always will be.”

and then, you realized.

he was right.

jeno had been by your side throughout everything. regardless of how much time you spent together, it never seemed like enough. always desperate for more, always wanting to taste the sweetness of the other’s presence. it was like a sweet drug, and you were no foreigner to the withdrawals. jeno was everything you realized you had been searching for.

no distance was too far, nor was it too short when it came to the two of you. he was always there to make you smile, to bring light to your days, to cheer you up. and by the looks of him, any pain you felt was almost like a dig at him too. he was your number one fan, always supporting you throughout.

you had been searching for this perfect instance. one where your boyfriend would finally notice how important you were to him. where he would chase after you to fix what he had broken, to restore the peace between the two of. to bring the magic, the love, back to the relationship. yet, that never happened. it was merely a distant dream, one that would never be achieved or become reality.

maybe in some other universe it would be real, and you’d be happy.

but that universe wasn’t this one. this universe was far more meaningful. because despite all the pain, it lead you to him, it lead you to realize; jeno was always there. he would never leave your side. and just how he’d been banging on your door for days straight, he’d continue to do so to your heart.

lee jeno, the perfect boy that would never let you be alone. lee jeno, the childish, the brave, the sweet, the caring. lee jeno, the boy of your dreams. lee jeno was him. lee jeno was who you had been searching for, had been dreaming of, unaware of the fact that he was right by your side the entire time.

and that’s why you kissed him.

because he was the boy you had been after. he wasn’t your first boyfriend, you both knew that. but he was your first love, and that would never change.

#🦋 anon #kpop #nct #nct dream #nct dream fluff #nct dream jeno #jeno #lee jeno

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rabid-heart · 4 years ago

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Good Bones

For @sefikuraweek Day 2 - Prompt: New Beginnings

Sephiroth asks Cloud to move in with him and Cloud says yes. But once the house hunting starts and Cloud rejects every possible suggestion, Sephiroth begins to doubt if Cloud’s heart is really in this relationship.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Notes/Warnings: None really, other than one tiny brief mention of sex.

Inspired by the song "The Bones" by Maren Morris.

AU – Everybody Lives! Shina is no more, Sephiroth and Cloud have been dating for a few years, and now their biggest argument is about finding the right place to start this new chapter of their lives together.

(There is angst, because Sephiroth is just an angsty guy, but really the whole thing is just purely indulgent fluff.)

Read on Ao3 | See Previous Day

---

“No.”

Sephiroth sighs, exasperation, exhaustion, and annoyance evident from the crease in his brow. He moves his hand away from his face and points at the laptop screen, while turning to his very stubborn boyfriend. “What’s wrong with this one now?” he asks.

Cloud simply huffs, as if that sound were enough to explain everything, and then walks away to the kitchen, leaving Sephiroth once again a little more than frustrated. It is not as if the former General himself was perfect at vocalizing his own thoughts and needs, particularly after a lifetime of being forced to suppress them, but Cloud’s pointed lack of clarity around this whole escapade had long begun stressing Sephiroth’s discipline and patience.

He pushes his chair back away from the desk and leans to watch Cloud dig into the refrigerator and pull out one of the soft-drinks that the blond had stocked in Sephiroth’s apartment. Those drinks are one sign, but there are many others – pieces of Cloud everywhere in the two bedroom condominium he had bought with his Shinra savings years ago: a blanket strewn on the black leather couch; junk food on the kitchen island (Sephiroth was never allowed junk food in his former life, but even after obtaining freedom from Shinra and Hojo’s strict meal plan, he had yet to develop a taste for that stuff); a toothbrush in the bathroom; some clothes and underwear in one of his dresser drawers. Even beyond those facts, Cloud himself arguably spent most of his nights with Sephiroth here, instead of in his actual living quarters in the house he shared with Zack, Kunsel, Aerith and Tifa (a place that Genesis not-so-affectionally dubbed the frat house).

They had been dating for over two years, though they had known each other for longer. In the end, Cloud Strife had now become invariably and inextricably woven into the fabric of Sephiroth’s life and space. He would either wake up to the blond in his arms or to a text message from Cloud. Most dinners they shared together, holding hands huddled in a restaurant booth or making a game of distracting each other while cooking. When Genesis and Angeal sent their wedding invitations, Cloud and Sephiroth’s names were on the cards together, as one. So, while Sephiroth had, admittedly, little relationship experience before this, asking Cloud if he would like to start living together seemed like a natural progression of the dance.

He did, on the advice of Aerith and Tifa, try to make the actual asking a romantic affair. He bought Cloud’s favorite whiskey, lit candles in the apartment, asked Aerith for her best roses. Cloud had seemed thrilled at the prospect, the usually scowling face instead blushing brightly throughout the evening. When Cloud had said yes, it started such a swell in Sephiroth’s heart that he was sure there was nothing else he could ever be more grateful for in his life. He had carried Cloud to his bedroom and made sure that the blond knew just how much he loved him, well through the night and into the hazy hours of the morning.

Then, something changed. They had agreed to find a new place, something that would let them have a true fresh start, something that they could turn into forever. But every open house Sephiroth suggested, every listing he found online had gotten summarily shut down. That would not have bothered Sephiroth as much had the blond provided more thorough explanations for his rejections, or at least explanations that were not so contradictory. Too far away from everything. Too close to the city. Too traditional. Too modern. Not enough space. Too much space. I don’t like the carpeting. I don’t like the kitchen. I don’t like the bathrooms.

Sephiroth had studiously jotted down the curt notes that Cloud had offered and then tried to adjust, come up with new possibilities. And yet, nothing seemed to please Cloud, not in the slightest. It became bizarre. Cloud did not act picky about anything other than his motorbike or his hair. And it did not make a difference that Sephiroth offered to finance renovations on an existing property to make it perfect. Cloud would shake his head, say it was too troublesome, and then move on to something else.

Sephiroth had considered himself an intelligent man, but this behavior tore at the boundaries of his understanding. He had begun to think that he had done something wrong, something to cause Cloud to suddenly grow cold on the idea of living together. He wracked his photographic memory for something – an offhand comment or gesture, a sign, even discussed the possibility with Genesis and Angeal over their weekly lunches together (Genesis called him a paranoid shithead, and while Angeal was much nicer about it, he essentially hinted at the same idea) – but could not find anything suspicious.

It had then dawned on Sephiroth that perhaps what Cloud was getting cold to was not the concept of moving in together – that maybe it was him. When that thought arose, he had quickly tried to push it down, bury it with all the other dark parts of his mind that he worked very hard to control. But try as he might to ignore it, it continued to nag away in the corners of his mind.

Even now, as he watches the blond kick close the refrigerator and wander into the living room to sit in front of the television, Sephiroth cannot help but wonder. Did Cloud really love him? Sephiroth had said it first, had felt it really from the moment Zack introduced them, and he was stunned into silence by the brilliance of those sky-blue eyes. Back then, Cloud was shyer and sweeter, but he had a stubborn streak a mile wide that often clashed with Sephiroth’s arrogance and tactlessness. They had fought often in the beginning, stumbling over misunderstandings and insecurities. But after a few honest and true conversations, things began to blossom. Sephiroth found himself being less afraid of being truly known and more willing to be honest and emotionally open. And Cloud in turn became more confident, less doubtful of his worth. They began fitting perfectly into each other’s lives, like pieces of an unusual, but beautiful puzzle.

Or at least, that had been what Sephiroth thought.

He turns to the computer screen, opened on a lovely four bedroom home just at the edge of Midgar proper – close enough to enjoy the central city, but far enough for peace. It has the large master bath, hardwood floors and open concept kitchen that Cloud had requested, and the laundry room, gas-range stove and garage that Sephiroth desired. Sephiroth had thought he struck the right compromise and had been excited at the idea of showing Cloud this new listing. But when they finished dinner and Sephiroth had pulled open his laptop, Cloud was simply as dismissive as he had been before.

Resignation begins to creep on Sephiroth now, like spiders crawling up his back. Dread, too, starts to mount in his chest. The weeks of this, the stress, the wondering, the doubt, the fear – it is too much, like an itch under his skin that he could not scratch for relief. He had pushed this conversation out for so long, under the guise of his own paranoia, but now, enough had become enough.

Sephiroth stands and walks into the living room. He reaches down for the television remote and shuts the program off, turns to face a perplexed Cloud and says, “I believe we need to talk.”

Cloud pauses, soda halfway to his lips, before putting the can down on the coffee table (no coaster, Sephiroth notes with a mild hint of irritation). “I was watching that, you know,” he responds casually.

“Cloud, I am serious.”

“You always are.”

Sephiroth closes his eyes, wills himself to breath, to calm, to still. “Do you still want to do this?” he asks, looking down at the blond sitting cross legged on his couch.

“Do what? Move in together?”

For a moment, Sephiroth considers taking the out – letting Cloud admit that he is not ready to live with him and allowing them to just resume their relationship as if nothing had happened at all. But Sephiroth knows that would not be enough for him now. He loves Cloud, wants to spend the rest of his mornings and nights with this man, but if Cloud does not feel the same, if he wants his freedom, then maybe it is best to let the blond go. Even if it means breaking open his own heart.

Sephiroth decides to push forward. “No. I mean our relationship.”

Cloud’s eyes suddenly widen in shock. “What?”

“Do you wish to continue this relationship?”

"I heard you,” Cloud says, standing up now. His face looks flushed, with anger, with embarrassment. “What I don’t understand is why you are asking this. What happened?”

Sephiroth looks down, for he knows if gazes in those blue eyes, he could never gather the necessary strength. “For the last few weeks, you have shown disinterest in every option for a new home together. I have tried my best to listen to your comments, but nothing seems to be right. I thought perhaps the true issue is that you no longer desire a life with me. I simply— I just…”

The words become trapped now, blocked by the swelling sorrow and fear in his chest. Is this it? Is he going to lose Cloud? Will he never hear that bell-like laughter, watch those blue eyes glaze with love and pleasure, dance in his living room to imaginary music with that lithe body, kiss that beautiful neck and those happy lips ever again?

He does not notice that Cloud has stepped close to him, until he feels a warm hand on his chest. Cloud glances upward, and the eyes Sephiroth loves are tinged with fear. “You don’t want to end this, right? You don’t want—”

“Of course not,” Sephiroth insists suddenly, grasping onto that hand tightly. “I love you. I love you more than anything, more than life itself and I--”

Then, Sephiroth stops, because Cloud, inexplicably, strangely, starts laughing. The blond presses his face against Sephiroth’s chest, and he can feel the vibrations of Cloud’s amusement and relief running through his body. It leaves Sephiroth feeling all the more mystified for it, and in his confusion, he finds himself locked in place and unable to move.

Finally, Cloud pulls back and looks at Sephiroth with slightly misty eyes. “You scared me, for a moment. I thought that you…oh, Gaia, Sephiroth. I’d never leave you, not for anything in this world or the next. I just needed another few weeks, that’s all.”

Sephiroth blinks at him, tilts his head. “I do not understand.”

The blond pauses for a moment, biting his lip in the way that he does whenever he is considering something. Then, he reaches down and tugs on Sephiroth’s hand. “Go get your jacket.”

“I don’t—”

“You won’t regret it, I promise.”

Sephiroth’s mouth opens to protest, to question, but Cloud is already moving, shoving his feet into his boots and slipping into his coat. The blond fishes into the ceramic bowl on the table next to the front entrance of the apartment and takes Sephiroth’s keys in his fingers. “I’m driving,” Cloud explains. “Now, c’mon!”

There appears to be no other option. Though his mind is still reeling from the whiplash of the last few moments, Sephiroth takes his jacket from the coat closet and follows Cloud down the hall, into the elevator and into the parking garage. Cloud is at his car quickly, with a springing nervousness to his step that Sephiroth only sees whenever the blond is excited about something. That recognition only serves amplify Sephiroth’s bafflement.

But he goes along anyway, watches as Cloud hops into the driver’s side of his car and complains again about having to adjust the seat for Sephiroth’s “impossibly long legs.” They drive in relative silence, Cloud with one hand on the steering wheel and the other entangled in Sephiroth’s own. It only takes a few minutes (with Cloud’s borderline reckless speed) for them to reach the edge of the city proper, and another ten or fifteen to reach the outskirts. Sephiroth recognizes their route. Since the deconstruction of the plate, the reactors and the wall, more and more residential districts have cropped up on the land surrounding Midgar, especially now that the Planet had begun to heal, and the ground had begun to repopulate the grass and flowers that used to be so scarce.

Finally, Cloud pulls up in front of a plot of land, with an unfinished two-story house sitting atop it. Some of the roofing had yet to be completed, windows installed, and outside walls painted, but the construction appeared strong and in good progress. Attached to the house is a large garage, and there is an unpaved path winding from the front door to the street. Though it is far from finished, looking at it now, Sephiroth can image the quiet, peaceful beauty of the place – the flowers they could plant along the walkway, the welcoming double-doors of the entrance, the little mailbox they could stand at the end of the path to the street. The house is slightly larger than most of the ones Sephiroth had been considering, but it still seemed comfortable all the same.

Sephiroth turns to Cloud now, bewilderment on his face. It is his turn to ask, “What?”

Cloud glances at him quickly, skittishly, then releases his hand and jumps out of the car. “Now, I know it’s a mess, but you should see the sketches Genesis gave to the contractor.”

“Genesis?” questions Sephiroth, as he steps out of the car. His mind flickers briefly to the lunch he shared with his two oldest friends earlier in the week, to Genesis’s teasing of his suspicion. He almost wants to sigh in mortification.

Cloud takes Sephiroth’s hand again, begins leading him up the path. “Angeal, Tifa and Aerith helped too, with picking out designs of stuff, making sure it would be things you’d like. Zack was useless, though, said we could just use him to help us move in.”

Us? Move in? His mind craters on the verge of shutdown. He stops abruptly, halfway to the front door, and Cloud turns to him with worry on his face.

“I’m sorry,” Sephiroth begins. “I’m sorry.”

Cloud is in front of him now, his hands around Sephiroth’s shoulders. He leans forward on his toes and closes the distance, kissing him gently but insistently, as if trying to push back the doubt and the fear that had been spilling from Sephiroth these past few weeks. He keeps going, tugging on the lapel of the man’s jacket to bring him even closer.

Then Cloud breaks the kiss, almost too soon. “I love you, Sephiroth Crescent. I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He then walks backward, and with a guilelessness that seems so at odds with the ferocity and skill of that kiss (but that was Cloud, that special contrast of sweetness and steel that made him so appealing, so seductive, so irresistible), he motions to the house behind him.

“So, I built you a house. Well, technically, it’s still in progress.”

Sephiroth tries to say something, but nothing comes out of his mouth. And yet, when the realization hits him, relief floods through his body like water over fire, and he can’t help but feel his cheeks tug into a wide smile. He pulls Cloud back into him, kisses him again and again, trailing his lips down that delicious jawline, the lobe of that ear, that wonderful neck. In between kisses, Cloud breathes out words in delight.

“It was an old building partially torn down and they said renovations would be done in six weeks, but they kept delaying things and finding issues and I was getting so nervous and I—”

“Mmhm,” Sephiroth hums, just kissing Cloud again. He can feel the blond laugh against his lips, but he merely takes the opening to explore the blond’s mouth, and almost rumbles in pure thrill at the way that Cloud’s laughter melts into a soft moan.

Then, the blond pushes him back, blushing red. “Stop, we’re in the middle of the street!”

The former General finally backs up, but can’t stop himself fully, can’t bring himself not to nip that adorable nose. “Alright.”

Cloud smiles but glances askew, apologetic. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to send you on a wild goose chase for a mystery home. I just wanted to surprise you, and I wanted to build something for us. For our new beginning.”

The two then turn to the building now, still empty and still incomplete. But with a bit of magic and imagination, Sephiroth could see it – the promises of comfort, of love, of peace, of a whole lifetime, held up by the good bones of this house. He could see the garden out front, Yule decorations hanging from the roof, the warm glow of fireplace light within. Most of all, Sephiroth could see himself happy here, for the rest of his life, with the man that he could hardly believe he had the good fortune to love.

Cloud squeezes his hand, softly, gently. “I can show you the sketches, if you’d like?”

“No need,” Sephiroth whispers, as he dips down to kiss him once more. “If it’s from you, I know it will be perfect.”

#sefikuraweek #sefikura #sephiroth x cloud #sephiroth #cloud strife #final fantasy vii #final fantasy vii remake #prompt: new beginnings #sfw

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sleepdeprivedheretic · 4 years ago

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Tongue Tied

Notes: This is another Valentine’s Day fic, except it’s a bit shorter.This is for those who rather have pure, straight up fluff

Setting: I wanted childhood friends au. OOC Tai, kinda. Tried to make it short and sweet for Valentine’s Day, along with my other fic that’s more plot-y and smutty tOTALLY does revolve around yokai: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29427309

When you first met him, you were both about eight. He was round, cheeky, and friendly, greeting you to the new neighborhood. Only being eight, and not really having any friends, you were rather shy. He grinned, holding up a bag of blue gummy sharks. Eagerly but hesitantly, you complied, and he beamed at you with a blush, seemingly to rival the sun as he introduced himself.

“-but ya can call me Tai-chan!”

Regularly, his mom and your mom became close friends, and often brought the two of you to the park. Him being the only familiar, friendly face, you followed him everywhere, like a little puppy. He would be always smiling and talking, falling in step beside you as he munched on whatever or whichever his mom had brought for him, sharing with you, and you offered your own snacks.

He grew on you, taking you everywhere, creating blanket and pillow forts, and promised that the two of you will be best friends forever. Although rather shy, you were extremely protective of him, finding your young self snapping at bullies when they’ve made fun of his weight, and making sure that he was alright. He would look at you shyly yet with a soft grin and rub the back of his head, telling you that you were amazing.

………………..

You were both ten. In two years, you’ve grown very close to him. Of course, his family and doctor worrying about his weight, had put him on a diet. He was still a little round, but had grown a few inches taller. You didn’t care, as long as he was your friend. Who you totally did not have a small crush on. Nope.

The two of you were in his living room, resting in your own separate sleeping bags as Bambi played on the VHS. No matter how many times the two of you seen it, his eyes would always water up when a particular scene came along as he shoved popcorn in his mouth. All you could really do was pat his shoulder gently, causing him to stutter and have the same odd red tint to his cheeks as he laughed nervously. You stared at his odd behavior, but shrugged, reaching for the popcorn as the two of you talked about future dreams and other things as the sleepover crawled on.

By this time, you’ve knew him a bit more, use to hanging out at his house, and his yours. Cooking and baking with each other’s respective moms, was a common weekend thing.

……………………………..

He’d gotten a bit more loud and rowdy, but was still sweet as ever. Of course, being twelve, the two of you were experiencing your own physical and mental changes. Voice cracking, outgrowing baby fat, the two of you were still close. He’d gotten many scrapes and bruises, however, while being rowdy and not as careful, and he’d grumble a little with a pink tint to his cheeks, as you hushed him, placing a Hello Kitty band-aid on his cut.

Although a bit more older, the two of you still drank Capri-sun, watched classics on his VCR, and he didn’t mind that you tagged along wherever he went. Imagine his surprise when you’ve gotten a little braver, not hesitating to cheer him on during sports tryouts, or started doing more things of your own without him. Of course, the both of your parents were wary of the two of you spending the entire night for some weird reason, but you still hung out for most of the day, swapping Pokemon cards and playing on the old gaming system while mindlessly talking like you’ve always done.

…………………..

High school was somewhat different. He was an awkward fifteen year old boy, but head-strong, tall, and a bit more lanky. You were still a little quiet and shy, but the two of you stuck close to each other like glue. He’d drag you to his baseball tournaments, and you’d invite him to your archery ones. He still was rowdy and somewhat of a hyper, cute klutz, grinning from ear to ear with pink cheeks as you sighed, wrapping yet another band-aid around his cuts.

You, being still young, had to bite down an odd feeling that came over you when he was surrounded by girls. You didn’t understand it, they were just being friendly, right? He looked rather uncomfortable, but was still red in the face as he kept making glances at you, a silent plea for help.

It’s when the bullying had started. The whispers and rumors, all because you helped him escape from a gaggle of young teens. He, being protective as always, shot glares and scowls at those who dared even came close to you, telling you that it was alright to defend yourself, and to call on him if he needed anything. So, while there was some bullying, the budding attention from kids hitting puberty, was a bit worse.

He was agitated for some weird reason, yet kept a dopey smile for your sake when you kept receiving love letters and confessions. You didn’t miss the relief in his eyes when you turned them all down, and vice versa when he stated that he wasn’t really interested in most of the people in your school. You didn’t fail to notice that he kept looking at you for an extra two seconds, but dismissed it.

……………

Senior year wasn’t as bad as freshman year. He, with all of his practice in sports and such, grew a bit of muscle mass, but at eighteen, was round and taller, around six foot, easily dwarfing you. Although older teens, you’ve kept in touch despite the crazy amount of tests, finals, and new friends. People were murmuring in awe at how the two of you were so close, and yet weren’t a couple. It didn’t stop either of your ears burning, but neither of you had either dated, only fueling those rumors.

He was very popular, as were you, despite your shyness and liking to blend in. Two peas in a pod, yet almost opposite personalities described him and you. You liking to read, and him liking to play sports and be outside. It didn’t stop you from following him around, him chuckling and ruffling your hair as you played a few games with him, or him hanging out with you at the library.

Of course, a lot of admirers from both sides were jealous because of the two of your closeness. You still politely refused the applicants of the love letters, and he, gaining more courage, stated that he wasn’t really interested in the gaggle of fawners who surrounded him. The two of you had constantly protected each other from unwanted bullies and too pushy one-sided interests while living your own lives.

It took longer than you’d like to admit, but you’ve gotten a part-time job as well as your license, him not wanting to be left behind, followed after. You forever had the image burned in your brain that Monday morning. He, waiting for you, sported a Letterman jacket, beat up sneakers, grinning wildly and proudly as he leaned against his new car. It was an older model, but you were proud of him, and plus, he was still doing things to your chest that you did not understand.

“Get in, Sugar, we’re goin’ fer a spin.” He smiled, holding up his new keys, and you couldn’t help but feel cicadas buzz gently within your stomach.

Prom was different. You weren’t really interested in going, and instead, the two of you spent the night at your house, baking cookies and listening to old songs on the radio. He smiled, wearing your mom’s apron as he swiveled to the music, causing you to laugh more than you should as he mimicked her, cursing about the neighborhood children and gushing about soap operas.

The tiny desserts ended up being burnt, his hair was wild, and the two of you were a laughing mess, reflecting childhood days.

By the end of the night, he looked like he wanted to say something before he left, but instead, gave you one of his warm, gooey smiles that made your heartbeat quicken.

……………..

College had a unique spin to it. Tests weren’t as frequent, but they were a bit harder. There were online classes, more deadlines, and yet, despite it all, nicer, calmer teachers. You, being an excellent student, earned your funding through the school. Of course you broke away from living at your parent’s house, and had to support yourself further by working, but it was worth it.

The dorm rooms were roomy, and your roommate, who was blessed with common courtesy, was kind and distant. He, attached to you at the hip, followed the same pattern, almost, except he’d chosen a different career. Oddly, he wanted to become a teacher, but the more you thought about it, the more you could see it. Always friendly, warm, and generous, an inner part of you knew that he was good around children, and it’d be a perfect career choice.

You yourself, only nineteen, had liked the idea of biology, studying animals and their habits. It also put the two of you in a lot of the same classes for the next four years. Despite studying, working, and worrying, the two of you had seemed to find extra time for each other. Granted it was more to study, but a lot of places were in the cafeteria, at the local coffee shops, and sometimes in your dorm room if your roommate was out. Within the four years before graduating, you’ve discovered more about your own feelings for the blond, and had secretly accepted them. You didn’t know of his own feelings towards you other than a very close friend, but you were surprised that he turned down popular, pretty people.

To say that you were relieved, was an understatement, but you couldn’t fathom why he’d turn down so many nice admirers. You’d accepted the fact that he might be asexual, or aromantic, and cherished him as your close friend no matter what the outcome might have been.

……………….

Graduation was celebrated with lots of laughter and cheer from both of you and your families. Not really having a place, the two of you, being really close, decided to rent together on a lease. Age twenty-three, the two of you had to struggle a bit to find jobs, but luckily, with his charm and endearing personality, it didn’t take him too long to land as a kindergarten teacher, and you, with your experiences and tenaciousness, landed in the science lab some miles over.

The two of you worked perfectly together, splitting bills and chores, making meals, it was almost as if the two of you were a couple, due to your wishful thinking. Which, to be fair, you thought and wondered a lot. What was the two of your relationship, what were you waiting for, and so on. It was growing on you, and you were feeling as if you had enough. Although not blaming him, you wanted to spend as much time at work as possible, staying away from the very being who made your heart soar and yet hurt from the questioning and pining.

He, being very keen, noticed immediately of your sudden absence. Going early and coming home later, eating briefly with that odd, distant look in your eyes as you joined in on his conversations, but it was as if you were replaced by something else. It was driving him mad, because in all of his years of knowing you, it didn’t add up.

One night, you came home to an odd sight. The table, although already set neatly, had your favorite dish set out on a platter. He sat there, pouring two glasses of wine as he stared at you.

“This ain’t like ya, Chickadee.” He stated bluntly, setting your glass near the platter, and you sighed, sitting down. Of course he’d notice, and although you felt guilty, you needed to give yourself space from the accepted, yet buzzing emotions welling within you.

“Ya wanna talk about it?” Was the silent plea, and you, caught off guard by the sheer hurt in his voice, found yourself nodding.

…………..

Present. The two of you, adults, sat at the table as he stared at you intently with a look of worry and hurt. He was your friend, and you guessed that it wouldn’t hurt to let loose your feelings, so he could know, and let you down, gently. Taking a breath, you started.

His eyes were widened, but he didn’t speak as you spoke. Letting the weight of your concerns and feelings be lifted off of your shoulders as you could only briefly make eye-contact. He was stunned, to say at least, but it’s what you’ve been feeling for years. As soon as you finished, you bravely stared at him, to drink in his reactions to your inner conflict. Swallowing thickly, he set his utensil down as he gave you a warm, heated stare.

“We’re both a lil’ dense, ain’t we, Sugar?”

You couldn’t help but nod a little as he stood up, walking over towards you to stare at you. It was your turn to look surprised, letting him cup your face, and lean in. Soft and warm, just like him, you couldn’t help but think as finally, finally, the two of you shared a kiss. The soft fluttering of butterflies within your stomach melted with a warm heat within your gut, surprising you in an instant as the two of you had broken away, him staring at you with a soft smile and a hot blush to his cheeks.

“Ya know how long I’ve been wantin’ to do that?” He asked rather shyly.

“Since we were eight?”

“Right on the nose. Ya as well?” He grinned, kissing your forehead gently at your nod.

“We gotta lotta talkin’ to do, but how ‘bout we start things proper with a date?”

You gently took his hand within yours, rubbing your thumb over the back in soft circles.

“Sounds perfect.”

………………

Short bc I had a 12k fic already done not too long ago, and this is for the crowd who just wanted fluff and cuteness.

#Taishiro Toyomitsu #Fatgum #Fatgum x reader #Like I had permission from a sweet artist to let me write the visuals in my other fic #And they gave me permission to post it on A03 #I was unsure about Tumblr so I left a link to my fanfic account

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arcticdementor · 3 years ago

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A reader writes:

I’m writing to you today because I have some information to share with you (and your readers) who may still be skeptical that this LGBTQIA+ gender-identity craze is coming for their kids. Some recent interactions online have made me more aware than ever that the movement is spreading in wild and unpredictable ways, and also made me reflect on how, in my own life, even someone like me could have fallen victim to it.

I want to start off by saying that recently, (and ironically, in an attempt to try not to be sucked into the internet as purely a source for doom and gloom: you will see how this backfires on me) I decided to rejoin a fan community surrounding one of my favorite franchises on Twitter. I won’t go into too much detail about which community and the exact specifics, but just know that it’s a popular franchise that’s appropriate for older kids, teens and adults (nothing 18+, nothing for really little ones). As a teen myself I was fairly active in a similar branch of this community on another social media platform (Facebook), and enjoyed it immensely before the platform eventually went more or less defunct as a hot-spot for fan content. Most of the content was fan-created work (like fan-art or fan-fiction) with a little interaction and lots of “DID YOU SEE THE LATEST” kinds of posts.

…

Anyway, to keep it to a minimum, that was then. If you’ve been on the internet any time in the last five years you know that spaces where people just talk about an interest and don’t mix it with politics and activism are becoming few and far between. Even though I knew this, and knew that I wasn’t going to have the same experience in a different place, something sparked an interest in me to go try to reconnect with my internet roots in a different setting. So, I followed some hashtags, quickly found some new followers and settled back to enjoy at least marginally some discussions online that didn’t have to do with Covid and All The Ways We Are All Going To Die.

Then came the teenagers.

Much like when I was a kid, this franchise attracts a lot of younger people. So it was hardly surprising to me to find that many of my new followers were in the 14-18 age range and that people like myself (mid-older 20s) were a sort of senior majority. That was fine- Twitter’s rules after all are 13+, so it’s not unreasonable to assume if you’re part of a popular group that you’ll interact on occasion with minors. That wasn’t the part I found strange. The part I found strange was that all of them, and I repeat, all of them were fans of two things- the franchise, and gender identities.

You can actually almost pinpoint the age range of the 18 and under crowd by how many of them have the following: 1. Pronouns in bio and in username. 2. Gender identity or lack thereof displayed in bio or username. 3. LGBTQ+ sexual orientation displayed in bio or username. etc. etc. etc. I’m not going to dive into it too much, because some might be saying “isn’t that just normal nowadays? Even politicians do that?” Well, you’re not wrong if that’s what you’re thinking. And that’s not the part that disturbs me.

What disturbed me was that, a few weeks after I joined the group, I started noticing an unsettling pattern among many of these teenage users (and many over-teen users, but I’m trying to make a point about the young ones specifically). For a few days, after an interesting bit of news or a trailer or some other thing that unites franchises, the posts in my feed would be primarily things like what I remembered from past experiences: posts about the franchises, theories, speculations, fanart, etc. But, every time things would settle back down into a quiet, normal week, the feeds in my post became almost entirely about one thing: Gender and LGBTQ talking points. I’m going to diverge for one second and say that many people in this group aren’t using a personal, front-facing account for their interactions in this fan-group. They’re mostly using alt-accounts with no real names and faces attached (myself included). And yet, every time the discussion in the feeds died down to where there was just no new stuff about the franchise to talk about, all the conversation slowly but surely shifted back to sexual orientation and gender. From fan-ships of perfect LGB couples to ‘hey I drew this person but as a trans-female!’ to even forgoing pretending to talk about their interests and just discussing their own gender and sex presentation with their other online friends, it became quickly very clear to me that A. I no longer really belonged here and B. Every single one of these kids was obsessed. Every. Single. One.

…

I’m going to digress and talk about myself for a minute to explain just why these examples, particularly that last one, burn a hole in my soul. From the minute I was old enough to remember, I’ve never been one of those typically presenting females. When my sisters and I played dress-up as kids, they played princesses and I played a prince or a witch or whatever was more interesting. In addition to the dolls and barbies I had being one of three girls, I also had an assortment of boy-oriented toys, including action figures, a remote control car and this really cool nerf bow-and-arrow set that I still secretly wish had survived my playing with it because man, my kids are gonna miss out someday. My hair was short because I hated wearing it up and the solution was a bob, and when we spent time with relatives I could be found as far away from my female cousins as possible, hanging out with my male cousins and talking about Legos and Lord of The Rings. I spent 90% of my time reading books and ignoring reality, and didn’t put much effort into my appearance until probably age 13 or later.

And I wished I was a boy.

It wasn’t an all-consuming thought, but I thought it. I wished, many times, when my parents would fuss at me to please stop attempting to climb trees in your Sunday clothes and when my sisters never talked about anything but dolls and tea-parties around their friends that I could be one of the boys. I had always liked the boys and their world better, and I fit into better, and yet there was that little problem (that I was still a girl) that kept me from being accepted into the boy group. The reality was, I was already probably very intelligent for my age (too-well read children can relate) and I took that big-headedness a little too far at times. I was also a very emotional person (still am) and just passionately felt that being a girl and being expected to do girl things was hideous and unfair.

The saving grace? My mom was the same. She’s never been a typical female either, and though as adults we have some clear differences (ironically, I have more stereotypical female interests/talents than her- like a hidden passion for interior decorating and a love of baking and so on) she was there for me, to be able to tell me that no- I didn’t really want to be a boy, I was just a girl who liked sword fights and grass-stains more than ballgowns and tea parties, and that was okay!!! She was proof that there were other girls like me, and that I would find more of them eventually (I did) and, even though we never said so in so many words, that stereotypes and how we fit into them has nothing to do with our innate female and male selves. And so, reassured that I could be female and still be however I wanted, I eventually grew out of those thoughts, and as I matured, found that there were ‘female things’ I connected with that my past self was too young to appreciate.

But, think about all this in a modern context. I’m a happy adult female now, and I was never truly gender-questioning. I just thought, for a while, that boys had more fun than I did, so I wanted to be one. But that, in it of itself, is a thought that’s deep enough for modern gender activists to insist I be transitioned immediately and put on life-altering hormones, never given a chance to grow up or grow out of questioning, and affirmed in my presentation instantly! If I, like that young girl online, had been handed a ‘gender-affirming’ flag and an identity that ‘made sense’ out of why I was different from my peers, I might have jumped on it, especially without the presence of a wise older person to tell me I wasn’t anything different than what she’d been as a child. This is the problem, this is why this kind of thing is so dangerous and toxic and wrong.

#the american conservative #letter from a reader #online fan communities

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mikauzoran · 4 years ago

Text

Adrienette: Serendipity: Fifty Marichat and Adrienette Kisses: Kiss Twenty-Six

Read it on AO3: Serendipity: Fifty Marichat and Adrienette Kisses: ...lazily.

“I have an idea,” Marinette announced as they sat at the kitchen table staring down at the chessboard between them.

“I should hope so;” Adrien snickered, “otherwise, I’m going to checkmate you in two moves.”

“No.” She looked up. “I meant…about your father.”

Adrien quirked an eyebrow, puzzled. “Ohime-sama, I’m afraid you’re going to have to be a bit more specific. Are we talking about how my father is controlling or how he’s too busy to be bothered with me or the fact that he doesn’t want us to go public about our relationship or that he’s too hung up on my mom still to admit that he has feelings for Nathalie or—”

“—About his opposition to us publicly dating,” she cut him off before he could really get started. “I can see his points about people accusing me of gold-digging and trying to get an advantage in the fashion industry, and I know that he’s right that it will be a lot of unwanted attention for me and I’ll probably get hate mail from your fans and people will invade my privacy and all that, but…I also know how important it is to you for us to be official so we can attend events as a couple and go on over-the-top romantic dates and get some of your rabid admirers to simmer down.”

“So what are you thinking?” he prompted, head tipping to the side in curiosity.

Her mouth stretched into an impish smirk. “We force his hand.”

He went owl-eyed at the thought of getting Gabriel Agreste to do anything he didn’t want to do. “Oh? And how are we going to accomplish that?”

“We get the media to declare us a couple. It’s not our fault if people see us out together and make assumptions,” she reasoned innocently.

A wide grin spread across Adrien’s lips. “Like that time we went to see my mom’s movie together.”

“Only not in my pyjamas this time,” Marinette groaned, remembering the months of humiliation she’d suffered through as a young teen.

“Your pyjamas were adorable,” he assured. “I saved those pictures of us, you know.”

She lost her train of thought as she gaped at him. “You did?”

“Mmhm.” He nodded with an embarrassed smile, cheeks warming. “I mean, it was really a big deal that you ditched your plans with the girls to help me get to the theatre to see the movie. It meant a lot to me, and I enjoyed running around Paris with you. That day was full of good memories, so I wanted a souvenir…. And…I mean…as previously discussed, I think I’ve always been a little bit in love with you, even if I didn’t know it, so…”

He looked up and shrugged, the picture of cherubic wholesomeness.

“You are the most precious,” Marinette cooed, leaning forward to kiss him and knocking over the chess pieces in the process.

When they pulled back, they looked down at the carnage of pawns, rooks, knights, and bishops.

“Well, I mean…you were going to checkmate me in two moves anyway,” Marinette reasoned. “Let’s just say that you won.”

Adrien pursed his lips, deliberating for a moment before deciding, “That’s fair. So what’s your grand plan to get the media to declare us dating?”

“Well…” Marinette quickly set the chess pieces back up in their starting positions and got out her phone. “Take a selfie with me.”

“O…kay.” He shrugged and did what she asked, smiling brightly and wrapping an arm around her, head tipping in towards hers, even though he wasn’t sure what this had to do with the plan.

Marinette quickly uploaded the picture to her Instagram and added the caption, “Hanging out with my good friend @adrienagrestebrand”.

She turned to him and smiled toothily. “We play innocent, but if enough pictures of us in couple-like situations start circulating online, people will talk. If enough people talk, it will eventually become something your father will have to publicly address. Maybe he’ll go on the record as saying that we’re not a couple, but if pictures of us acting like a couple keep popping up, no one will believe him, and we win.”

Adrien’s eyes went as wide as his smile as he shook his head and beamed at his ingenious girlfriend. “You are the most clever, amazing person ever. This is wonderful, Marinette!”

“I’m glad you approve,” she chuckled, looking pleased with herself. “I know it’s been bothering you this past month, us still being a secret and not able to publicly date, so…I’ve been trying to come up with a solution.”

He took her hands in his and gave them a squeeze, staring into her eyes with pure adoration. “Ohime-sama, you are the best. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

A hint of concern came into his gaze, turning his exhilarated expression into a worried frown. “…Are you sure you want to do this, though?” he inquired tentatively, not wanting to dissuade her but knowing that he had to be honest. “My father does have a point about people who are going to invade your privacy and send you death threats and call you an opportunist gold digger. Life in the public eye kind of sucks, and I don’t want you diving into this for my sake thinking that it’s going to be okay because it’s not, Marinette. Dating me and dealing with all of that is going to be awful and scary and—”

“—It’s not dating you that’s going to be bad,” she quickly corrected. “Dealing with your fans and the media is what’s going to be awful. Dating you is a dream come true, Adrien, and definitely worth whatever I have to put up with.”

“Oh,” he breathed, stunned by the certainty of her response.

“I’m sure about this,” she insisted with a dazzling smile. “You are one of the few things in my life I’ve always been sure about.”

“Oh,” he repeated, his face hurting he was smiling so hard.

She leaned in to give his cheek a kiss. “I’m going to work with our friends to make this happen. We’ll hit it really hard throughout the week, and, then, next Saturday we’ll strike the finishing blow. You’re free for the day until your interview with Nadja in the evening, right?”

He blinked at her curiously. “Yeah. Why?”

The following day, Marinette kidnapped Adrien to take Jagged Stone’s crocodile Fang out for a walk around the Square de la Tour Saint-Jacques. They took photos cuddling Fang on one of the blue benches with the tower in the background and Fang licking their faces and them laughing together and posted them on their Instagrams with tags talking about how fun it was spending time with such a good friend.

Jagged took some pictures and posted them on social media too, and the general public got plenty of shots of Adrien Agreste and a girl who looked somewhat familiar even if they couldn’t place her walking a famous crocodile.

Monday, Alya just so happened to take some pictures of Chat Noir for the Ladyblog that captured Marinette and Adrien having a picnic in the Place des Vosges in the background.

That same day, Adrien’s Instagram featured photos of the macarons from the picnic and a shoutout to Tom and Sabine’s.

Tuesday, Marinette and Adrien posted photos of their Chemistry study session along with captions about how learning was more fun with a friend.

Wednesday, Chloé posted photos of her newest Queen Bee-inspired manicure with the Pont des Arts as the background.

Clearly, between Chloé’s thumb and index finger, Adrien and Marinette could be seen standing at the railing of the bridge, laughing and smiling at something one or the other had said.

Thursday, Kitty Section updated their website to include new pictures in their photo gallery. One didn’t have to look all that closely to spot Marinette and Adrien in the background.

He had his arms around her as they stood at the keyboard and he positioned her hands to show her how to play the instrument.

Jagged Stone and Clara Rossignol included links to the Kitty Section site in Twitter posts.

Friday, an anonymous source sent a picture of Adrien and Marinette sitting on the school steps, holding hands to the president of Adrien’s fanclub, and “#Who is Adrien’s New Girlfriend?!” started trending.

On Saturday, Adrien met Marinette at the Trocadero for the grand finale.

“So, what’s the plan, Boss?” he greeted as she came trotting up to him.

“I’m finally going to take you on that ridiculously romantic date you’ve always wanted,” she informed as she touched her cheek to his for the usual air kisses to either side of his face.

“You’re going to what now?” He stared at her in amazement, afraid to believe that the day had actually come.

Just then, a pedicab pulled up to the curb, and Marinette smirked. “Our ride’s here.”

Adrien’s jaw dropped. “We’re going on a romantic rickshaw bicycle ride?”

She laughed fondly at the excitement on his face and nodded. “Yep. Come take a selfie and post it on your Instagram with a caption about how you’re spending the day with one of your best friends and you’re so glad that we’re friends and all that.”

Adrien happily acquiesced.

Their pedicab took them down along the Seine and past the Grand Palais, Petit Palais, Place de la Concorde, Tuileries, and the Louvre on their way to the Pont des Arts.

Adrien took a few more shots for his Instagram en route, including several with his arm around Marinette’s shoulders, their faces close together to fit in the frame.

“You know,” Marinette chuckled as she snuggled up to Adrien, “I’ve had this romantic bike ride scenario planned out for years now.”

“What?” he laughed incredulously. “Seriously?”

“Yes.” She gave his arm a light smack. “I seriously have. Remember my ridiculous crush on you?”

“I still can’t believe you liked me,” Adrien snickered, shaking his head in awe. “I could have had you this whole time if I weren’t such an oblivious dimwit.”

“Be nice,” Marinette scolded.

“No,” Adrien pouted. “I’m seriously angry at myself. If I had gotten a clue back then, I could have had the most awesome girlfriend on the face of the planet. Instead, I spent my youth feeling like an unlovable screwup. I will never forgive myself,” he snorted, only half joking.

Marinette leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his jaw. “You’re very lovable and definitely not a screwup,” she whispered, hoping their cyclist-driver was concentrating on the road and the music playing through his earbuds rather than their conversation.

“Tell me about this romantic bicycle ride scheme fourteen-year-old Marinette came up with,” Adrien entreated. “That will cheer me up and make me forget what a loser I am. I love fourteen-year-old Marinette’s schemes. They’re brilliant. Marino is my favourite so far.”

Marinette cringed. “Fourteen-year-old Marinette’s schemes were horrendous, shameful failures…but if it’ll make you feel better… The plan was for Alya, Rose, Juleka, Mylène, and Alix to help me make it so that your bodyguard couldn’t park where he was supposed to pick you up after a photoshoot.”

Adrien arched an eyebrow and gave her a devious smile. “And then you were going to lie in wait for me to sweep me off my feet with a romantic rickshaw bicycle ride?”

Marinette nodded, shrugging hopelessly. “We were going to ride to the Pont des Arts to get soulmate ice cream from André, and Alix was going to throw rose petals to create the right atmosphere.”

“I would have loved that,” Adrien whispered, touched that she had put so much thought and effort into a surprise for him.

Marinette shook her head. “You would have had fun, but you wouldn’t have appreciated it as much as you do now. You didn’t see me in a romantic light back then, so it just would have been a memorable outing with a friend.”

Adrien reached down and slipped his hand into hers. “You have no idea how special all those times spent hanging out with you were to me. I grew up bored and lonely, so your friendship really was—is—a precious gift. Things don’t have to be seen in a romantic light to be meaningful…and it would have really meant a lot to take a bike ride and get ice cream with you.”

“Oh,” she breathed softly, admiring the soft glow he seemed to emit. She nodded, feeling like she understood better now.

“So what happened with the scheme?” He pulled her attention back to the present. “Why didn’t I get my romantic rickshaw ride and André’s ice cream?”

Marinette sighed. “Oh. I don’t know. Maybe the plan was a little too overly complicated. There was some miscommunication. Things didn’t play out the way I’d planned. There was an akuma attack. You know. The usual.”

Adrien winced. “Ouch. I’m sorry. That really sucks, especially when you put so much effort into planning everything.”

“Oh, it gets worse,” Marinette groaned. “I ran into you after the akuma attack, and you offered to give me a ride…and I told you no because I was going to get couscous.”

He stared at her openmouthed. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” she grumbled bitterly.

He tried not to laugh but ultimately failed. “I don’t remember this at all.”

“Thank God for small mercies,” she mumbled. “I hated myself for days after that.”

“You really couldn’t talk to me at all, could you?” he snickered, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes.

“Nope,” she sighed. “Mere proximity to you made my verbal eloquence plummet. It’s a wonder you didn’t think I was some insane weirdo from all the stuff I said to you.”

He shrugged, pulling her in closer and nuzzling her hair. “I thought I made you nervous because you respected my father’s work. Sure, you seemed a little quirky, but I didn’t really know how people were supposed to behave because I hadn’t been around people my age before. I saw you act normal around other people, so I knew it was a problem with me or something. The Marinette I saw interacting with other people was really cool and selfless and brave. I admired you and wanted us to be better friends.”

Marinette blew out a long breath, shaking her head. “Oh, my sweet, sweet bean. You’re too precious. Too pure for this earth…. Thank you for being you.”

“Right back at you.” He gave her an affectionate squeeze.

The pedicab stopped and let them off at the Pont des Arts so that they could get André’s sweetheart ice cream and take a selfie with it and the love locks secured to the bridge railing and light posts.

Adrien captioned the photo, “There’s nothing better than sharing ice cream with a friend”.

Marinette giggle-snorted. “Yep. Nothing romantic going on here. Just platonic friends who happen to enjoy sharing ice cream intended for couples on the most romantic bridge in the City of Love.”

“I actually think the Pont Alexandre III is the most romantic bridge in Paris, especially at night when it’s all lit up,” Adrien remarked. “The footbridges over the Canal Saint-Martin are really quaint and romantic too.”

Marinette hummed in thought, mentally storing Adrien’s feedback for use at a later date.

“We should get a picture of us feeding ice cream to one another,” Adrien snickered, going to sit on one of the benches. “Do you think that would be laying it on a little thick?”

“No, that’s perfect,” she assured, joining him. “Here. Say ‘ah’.”

It was then that they noticed the passersby documenting the romantic moment and sharing it online for them.

“Want to go someplace more private?” he suggested.

She shook her head. “It’s okay. They’re not hurting anything, and the whole point is to be visible.”

He bit the inside of his cheek. “So long as you’re okay with the attention.”

She smiled, lightly touching his hand. “Thanks, Adrien.”

He returned the smile with a wink. “Any time, Ohime-sama.”

After they finished their ice cream, they headed to the Pont Neuf station and took the Métro, getting off at Jussieu.

They walked hand-in-hand to the Jardin des Plantes, stopping to look in shop windows and browse through the boxes of old books on the tables outside of shops.

When they got to the park, they strolled leisurely, admiring the autumn foliage and enjoying one another’s company.

“I wish our cat were here,” Marinette sighed with a wistful smile as she looked up at the changing leaves.

“Nyan-chan would like today’s date,” Adrien affirmed, giving her hand a squeeze. “He’d be happy to know you’re missing him even though you’re with someone as magnificent and funny as me.”

Marinette broke out in a laugh.

“Did I mention my charming personality?” Adrien added with an eyebrow waggle.

“Are you jealous, Beau Gosse?” she snickered, bumping his shoulder with her own.

“Why would I be?” Adrien pouted. “It’s not like the woman I love is thinking about other men when she’s with me or anything.”

Marinette shook her head, still laughing. “You can whine to your cat boyfriend about it tonight when he comes over for snuggling.”

“Oh, believe me. I will,” he snorted. “Hey. What do you think of a picture of us holding hands? Maybe just a picture of our clasped hands? Is that too heavy-handed?”

Marinette groaned. “You’re just as bad as Chat Noir with puns.”

Their next and final stop was across the street from the Jardin des Plantes at the restaurant attached to the Grande Mosquée de Paris where they ordered vegetable couscous to share along with the restaurant’s famed mint tea and a sampler platter of their savory desserts.

“I think this is the best couscous I’ve ever had,” Marinette moaned happily, shoveling another spoonful into her mouth.

Adrien laughed into his napkin, snapping a picture of her for his own private consumption. “Nino did say that they have really legit food here. He said that his mom’s home cooking is better but that this place tastes like the food he eats when visiting family in Morocco.”

Marinette hummed appreciatively through her full mouth, and Adrien shook his head. “I’m going to post a picture of you pigging out and gush about how radiant my good friend Marinette is while enjoying a good meal.”

She glared at him, her narrowed eyes threatening bodily harm.

“I’m sorry, but you are so cute when you’re stuffing your face. Like a chipmunk,” he defended himself.

Marinette swallowed and replied. “Wow. Way to make a girl feel unsexy, Agreste.”

Adrien winced. “Sorry. I was just playing. You’re adorable, Marinette. Did I ruin everything?”

With a sigh, Marinette got up and went to sit on the bench seat beside him, fishing out her phone. “Smile, Bishi,” she teased, using Chat Noir’s nickname for Adrien, her voice husky in his ear.

Her free hand slipped down to give his knee a squeeze, and the resulting picture showed Marinette smiling puckishly at the camera while Adrien was captured in the middle of his turn to look at her with a flustered expression.

“I like the face you’re making,” she chuckled as she reviewed the photo. “You look like I just made some obscene suggestion and you’re equal parts horrified and intrigued.”

“I’m glad you’re having fun pushing my buttons.” Adrien sighed, shaking his head with a fond smile.

They took another picture, one with them both smiling innocently even though Marinette was practically sitting in Adrien’s lap. They included a few pictures of the food and made sure to rave about how good it was and what a nice time they were having together as friends.

Adrien had barely walked in the door when Nathalie descended upon him.

“Your father isn’t pleased,” she reported blandly, the hint of a grin hovering in the corner of her mouth. “Did you have fun today? You and Miss Dupain-Cheng look very happy together.”

Adrien beamed. “I did. And we are. Thank you, Nathalie.”

A smile flickered across Nathalie’s lips, there one second and gone the next, replaced by her usual impassive expression. “Back to business. Your father isn’t pleased.”

“Where is my father anyway?” Adrien sighed, glancing at the atelier door.

“London,” she supplied. “He had to leave this morning to attend to the closing of a deal in person.”

“He didn’t even say goodbye,” Adrien grumbled, heading for his room to change for the interview with Nadja scheduled that evening.

Nathalie followed to pick out a suitable outfit.

“It was a last-minute trip,” she offered, pretending that that was a sufficient excuse, that this wasn’t just the latest installment in the trend of Gabriel floating in and out of Adrien’s life without stopping to actually be a part of it.

“Oh. I see,” Adrien replied disinterestedly, pretending that it didn’t hurt to be so insignificant.

Nathalie pursed her lips. “…What was your favourite thing that you did today?”

Adrien’s smile came back as he launched into a recap of the pedicab ride and how much it meant to him that Marinette had been planning romantic surprises for him all along.

Nathalie conveniently forgot to bring up the fact that Gabriel wanted to talk to Adrien before the interview. She later apologized profusely to Gabriel for letting it slip her mind. She told him that they’d been in too much of a rush to get Adrien to the studio and get him through hair and makeup.

All the way there, she kept Adrien talking about his eventful day, distracting him from the reality that was his relationship (or lack thereof) with his father.

“So…Adrien,” Nadja purred toward the end of the interview. “Judging from your Instagram, you had an eventful date today.”

Adrien made his eyes go wide, pretending to be surprised at her word choice.

“Tell us all about your girlfriend, Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she prompted, leaning forward in her seat.

Adrien blushed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Oh, that wasn’t a date. Marinette and I were just hanging out. She’s a good friend; we’re not officially dating.”

Nadja’s perfectly waxed eyebrow inched up, and she shot him a look of clear disbelief. “I don’t mean to imply that you’re lying, Adrien, but we have some candids from your outing.”

Behind them, a slideshow of all the soft looks Adrien had directed Marinette’s way that day began to play.

“Do you look at all your friends with such a gooey, lovesick expression?” she challenged.

Adrien laughed and shook his head. “You misunderstand me. I said that Marinette and I aren’t officially a couple. I never said I wasn’t head over heels in love with her.”

Nadja’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes lit up.

Adrien could practically see her getting ready to pounce on the scoop he’d just served her.

Nadja turned to the camera. “You heard it here first, ladies and gentlemen: Paris’s most eligible bachelor, Adrien Agreste, in love!” She whipped back around to Adrien. “Tell us all about her. What do you like about Marinette? What about her made you fall in love?”

He averted his gaze, smiling bashfully. “Well…I mean…we’ve been friends since I started school, and Marinette has always been…just…wonderful. Everything about her is wonderful. She’s smart, funny, selfless, thoughtful, clever, a good leader… I’ve admired her for a long time. …And, obviously, she’s gorgeous, but, if you’ve got functioning eyes, you can tell that much on your own. It’s her personality that really made me fall for her, her compassion, her enthusiasm, her kindness. I think I’ve been a little bit in love with her from the very beginning; it just took me a while to realize that the way I felt about her wasn’t just admiration and friendship.”

“Have you told her how you feel?” Nadja pressed.

Adrien nodded. “In the spring…but she was seeing someone else at the time.”

Nadja winced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah,” Adrien chuckled self-deprecatingly. “Ouch is right.”

“But what about now?” she prompted. “The way you phrased that she was seeing someone else in the spring sort of implied that she’s free now. Why aren’t you two dating?”

Adrien frowned, his face flipping through a series of conflicted expressions, making it seem as if he were reluctant to answer. “…Well…my father doesn’t think it’s a good idea.”

Nadja’s eyes narrowed. “Your father won’t let you date the woman you love?”

Adrien waved his hands hastily, trying to correct her. “No, no! It’s not like that. My father hasn’t forbidden me from dating her or anything. It’s just…he’s concerned. Marinette has always wanted to be a fashion designer, and she’s a fan of my father’s work, so Father is afraid of what people might say about her for dating me. Marinette is extremely talented, and Father doesn’t want her talent discounted or questioned because people think she’s receiving preferential treatment or using me to advance her career. He’s concerned that overzealous fans might invade her privacy or start sending her hate mail or something crazy like that,” Adrien explained.

Nadja nodded, letting Adrien continue of his own volition, not wanting to interrupt.

“My father cares about me a lot. He’s very protective of me, so…he doesn’t think it’s a good idea for Marinette and me to date, and I can see his reasoning. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to Marinette because of me…but…at the same time…” He sighed and looked away.

“At the same time?” Nadja encouraged gently.

Adrien shook his head and shrugged. “The past few years have been really hard for my family…since my mother disappeared, I mean. My parents were soulmates, so I know Mother’s disappearance was a huge blow to Father. I know it’s been really hard raising me without her. I remind him of her, so it’s difficult for him to be around me sometimes.”

Nadja frowned, heart aching as she thought of her own child.

“I understand, of course,” Adrien stressed. “But even though I understand, it’s still hard. …And Father’s always so busy with work. His company is important to him. He’s really passionate about designing, and I’m happy that he still has something he loves that much, even though Mother is gone…but I’m alone a lot,” he sighed, looking down at his hands.

“That must be rough for you,” Nadja whispered.

Adrien nodded. “It’s easy to get discouraged when you’re lonely…” He looked up and gave her and the viewers a weak smile. “…but I have a lot of really great friends like Marinette now that I attend public schooling. Their friendship helps a lot…. I still would like to try dating, though,” he added sheepishly. “I’ve always dreamed of finding the kind of love that my parents have.”

Nadja gave a little “Aww”, smiling wide because she knew that her viewership would be eating this up.

“I think Marinette might be the one for me,” Adrien confided, and then his expression turned sad with a hint of longing. “…But I know that my father knows best and that he only wants what’s best for me. Maybe there will come a day when Marinette and I can be together, but I can’t ask her to wait for me, so…”

He gave a helpless shrug.

They had scarcely made it home when Gabriel called to give Adrien a dressing down, faulting Adrien for coming across as childish, naïve, whiney, and ungrateful.

Adrien took the chastisement with a bowed head and muttered apologies.

He retired to his room for the night where he showered, changed, and headed out to give Alya an interview with Chat Noir.

“Adrien is the sweetest human being I have ever met,” Chat insisted into Alya’s phone camera. “He’s letting his father control his life, and that’s not okay. He’ll be an adult in six months. He should be free to make his own decisions. If he loves Marinette, he shouldn’t have to have his father’s permission to date her.”

“Ladybug said nearly the same thing,” Alya snickered.

Chat blinked dumbly for a beat or two. “She did? You talked to Ladybug about this?”

Alya nodded, still filming. “She left about fifteen minutes before you got here. I had just posted her video on my blog when you arrived. Ladybug is a staunch supporter of Adrienette.”

“…I did not know that,” Chat chuckled, cheeks heating up in pleasure and embarrassment at the thought of his first love adamantly shipping him and his girlfriend.

By the next morning, #Let Adrienette Date was already trending, and Gabriel was getting strongly worded emails about his interfering with the course of true love.

A protest spontaneously manifested outside the Agreste Mansion.

Adrien’s fanclub mobilized to do anything and everything to ensure that their prince got his happy ending, even if they weren’t entirely certain that Marinette was worthy of him.

Marinette got her first death threat, but the threat was concerning if she ever broke Adrien’s heart and not about her dating him in the first place, so she took cold comfort in that.

Gabriel returned from London Tuesday morning to be met with the madness that was an unstoppable force hell bent on seeing his son in a relationship with the woman he loved.

Gabriel persevered.

Adrien played innocent.

Adrien was grounded.

Chat Noir and Ladybug spoke out about the unfairness of the grounding and Gabriel’s attempts to keep Adrienette apart.

The mob was incensed.

Gabriel stock plummeted.

On Saturday night, Adrien posted a picture on his Instagram of him leisurely kissing Marinette on her living room couch. The caption read, “Look who’s un-grounded and hanging out with his GIRLFRIEND! Thank you all so much for your love and support. #Adrienette #True Love Wins”.

#Adrinette #Adrienette #Marichat #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Adrien Agreste #Chat Noir #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Kissing #Writing Prompts #Mikau's Writings #Serendipity: Fifty Marichat and Adrienette Kisses

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smytimagine · 5 years ago

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Part III | Surprise Visitors

We get some other character’s perspectives in this chapter!

Warnings: Mild swearing

Word Count: 3,442

A/N: I’m in the middle of writing other chapters but I can’t decide, does Y/N end up with Grayson… or Ethan?!

part 1 part 2

Thank God the next day was Saturday, and although that didn’t mean a whole lot since I usually spent the day with the twins anyway, today was different.

I spent the whole night curled up in my bed watching chick flicks and ignoring Ethan’s persistent calls and texts. To be fair, I felt bad and had at least let him know I made it home safely but didn’t respond after that. It’s not like it was Ethan’s fault, he didn’t know about Grayson’s new girlfriend either, but I couldn’t tell Ethan how I felt if I wasn’t even sure how I felt.

Grayson had always been my best friend. When I moved out to LA from Connecticut the twins were the first real friends I had made. I had prior experience as a personal assistant to very wealthy CEO’s at large companies, and a recruiter had seen my resume and asked me if I was interested in a position with two clients who were social media moguls. I had no idea who the twins were when I met them, as I suppose I wasn’t their target demographic. I was 3 years older than them and had no idea what vine even was, never mind that they had blown up on the app. I guess you could say I wasn’t the trendiest teen back then.

The three of us had hit it off right away, probably because I treated them like normal people, I never put them on a pedestal. I wasn’t blind to how girls looked at them, I was even an unwilling target to some online slander from people who wanted to pin me to one of them. But it was never like that. We truly were just best friends, until now.

As I sat in my bed debating if I was ever going to crawl out of this mess of blankets and sheets, I wasn’t sure where I stood with the twins. Of course, I would always be professional when it came to work, but I now felt this awkwardness around Grayson. What was Ethan hinting at when he told Grayson he needed to tell me about his girlfriend? Why would they think I needed to know? Grayson didn’t owe me anything. Was there some kind of secret behind my back about me liking Grayson? Because certainly, I had never implied that, or at least I don’t think I did? Ethan would never go behind my back and make something like that up, so I wasn’t sure where any of this stemmed from.

______________

Noon rolled around and I finally pulled myself together enough to drag my ass out of bed and into the kitchen for some food. Still drowning in Ethan’s sweatshirt and a pair of PJ shorts I had thrown on.

“Well it’s about damn time,” a deep voice said from behind me

I jumped and threw my back against the fridge, I held a knife stabbed halfway through an avocado in my hand, looking towards my couch to see a mop of dark hair facing away from me towards the wall of windows

“ETHAN WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” I screamed

“We have a spare key in case of emergencies Y/N. After you texted me you were home last night you never answered any of my other attempts to talk. I was genuinely worried about you. I came over around 3 am and saw you sleeping in bed surrounded by tissues. I decided I would sleep on the couch and be here when you woke up, I didn’t want you to be alone. I texted you that, but apparently, you decided to just let your phone die. Now please, put down the knife, that avocado isn’t very threatening ” Ethan laughed as he made his way towards me.

My heart melted. Here I was wasting the day away feeling sorry for myself when this man in front of me came over just to see if I was okay and then slept here in case I needed anything. What the hell did I do to deserve him?

I didn’t say anything, I tossed the knife on the counter and walked towards Ethan, I tucked my head into his chest and felt him wrap his arms around me. He pecked the top of my head and rubbed his hands slowly up and down my back. We stood silently in the embrace for a while.

“I’m okay E, to be honest, I’m not even sure why I was so upset. I told you before there was nothing going on between Gray and me, and now it’s just proof.” I said softly

“Y/N, you may not have thought there was anything, but there was - there is. I saw it, the guys all saw it. To be honest, you weren’t the only one let down last night. After the guys left they all texted me bummed out about the whole situation. There is absolutely no one who is as perfect for Gray as you. Literally, everyone around you guys can see that”

I felt myself smile into Ethan’s chest at his kind words, it felt nice that everyone thought so highly of me. That they all thought that I was good enough for their best friend and brother. But at the end of the day, it didn’t matter. He had a girlfriend, and she wasn’t me.

I pulled away from him with his hands still resting on my shoulders. I tried to change the subject, as anything would be a better conversation than this.

“So, what should we do today Etee?” I smirked as I teased him. He hated that nickname and I knew it, but it was cute.

Ethan sighed at my use of his name, “Well, Mom and Cam are coming into town today actually, I’m supposed to pick them up in a few hours. Do you want to come?”

I loved the twin’s family. Their sister was my age and so much fun to gang up on the boys with. Their mom Lisa was the best. She was super supportive of everything the boys did and would even check up on me once in a while. My mom had never been exactly present in my life, so in a way, she helped to fill the void.

“Is that even a question?!” I asked, suddenly feeling my mood shift to pure excitement.

“I thought you might like that, we have to pick them up around 2:30, it’s going to take us an hour to get there from here, so you better get your ass in the shower because you fucking stink,” He said, pulling his head to the side implying he was trying to escape me.

“Oh, fuck you, dude. I absolutely do not stink, and even if I did, it’s your sweatshirt, which means you’re the stinky one” I scoffed at him, smirked, then turned to head down the hall towards the shower.

______________

Ethan POV

I watched Y/N walk away and head towards the bathroom, my eyes inspecting every inch of her body. She was perfect. She had absolutely no idea how perfect she actually was. I couldn’t stand the fact that my idiot brother had this perfect of a woman pining for him and decided to ignore her for someone else.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my brother. He’s my best friend. But he can be a real idiot. The thing is, I’m not even sure he knows Y/N is crazy for him. In fact, Y/N doesn’t even know she’s crazy about him, but everyone else knows. They are so perfect for each other it makes me want to vomit out of jealousy. Someday I want to find someone as perfect as she is, though I know it will be a challenge.

I told her my mom and sister were coming into town today, and they are. But, I might have left out the part that I called them late last night and asked them to come. I explained what happened at the fire and when they agreed to come, I booked them on the next available flight out here.

They loved Y/N as much as Grayson and I did. My mom thought of her as her own, considering Y/N’s mom wasn’t the best. She left when Y/N was little and calls her once in a while when she runs low on money. Grayson and I have been throwing extra cash into her paychecks to cover it. We told her it was a pay raise, which part of it was, but we doubled it and if Y/N knew she would kill us. She never asks for anything, never expects anything, and never tries to inconvenience anyone. Her dad has always tried his best, but he works a lot and isn’t sure how to relate to her as a grown woman. Over the last two years, she has become more of a Dolan than a Y/L/N, my whole family accepts her with open arms, and secretly hopes one day she will actually be a Dolan. Of course, none of that will happen if Grayson stays with whatever her name is.

______________

Y/N POV

I showered, got dressed, fixed my hair and makeup and headed back out to the living room where Ethan was half asleep scrolling through twitter. He clicked his phone screen off when he noticed I had entered the room

“Damn” Ethan whispered to himself

I could feel my cheeks blush slightly

“Uh, you ready, E?”

“I’ve been ready, the question is, are you?” he replied, trying to cover for his trip up

“I’m ready! Let’s go get these beautiful ladies so I can ditch you and hang out with some real winners” I laughed as I pulled him up off the couch.

We hopped up into Ethan’s jeep and headed towards the airport. I absolutely loved this car. He had modified it so perfectly that everything about it screamed Ethan. He turned up the radio and started bobbing his head while I pulled my sunglasses over my eyes and leaned my head back into the headrest, letting my hair blow in the wind. He looked over at me, smiled and placed his hand on my knee. This wasn’t odd for us, it was his way of letting me know he was there, but that he didn’t want to turn down his music to talk. All of which, I was okay with. I didn’t want to talk.

______________

“Y/N/N!” Cameron screamed as she ran up and threw her arms around me in the biggest hug. I laughed and looked over her shoulder to see Lisa coming along smiling at the two of us

“Hey gorgeous, what the heck! I didn’t know you ladies were coming into town! I usually have you guys on the twin’s schedules for weeks before you visit” I said looking between Cameron and Lisa with an excited confusion.

Both women looked over at Ethan, unsure of what he actually told Y/N, clearly not the truth, and went along with the story line.

“Oh well, we wanted to surprise the boys and didn’t say anything until last night to them about coming to visit… SURPRISE!” Lisa fibbed as she embraced Y/N in a hug while shooting Ethan wide eyes hoping she said the right thing. He nodded in acceptance of her answer.

We all got back into Ethan’s jeep, his mom and sister in the back as they had insisted I sit in front. I always felt wrong about making a parent sit in the back, but Lisa had insisted.

I suddenly felt a wave of dread wash over me. They would definitely want to go back to the boy’s house to drop off their things and say hi to Grayson. I, on the other hand, did not want to say hi to Grayson until at least Monday.

______________

Lisa POV

I had insisted Y/N sit up front with Ethan. She was so sweet how she always offered me the front, but I knew she needed to be next to my son more than I did right now. As we drove back to the boy’s house I watched how Ethan would smile and look at her and how she mirrored the gesture. To be honest, I would be over the moon if she dated Ethan, the chemistry between them was undeniable. I could tell from a mother’s perspective that she truly made Ethan happy, but I didn’t know if either of them actually felt that way towards each other. Ethan had always insisted it wasn’t like that and that he was pulling for Y/N to get with Grayson. I would be a lucky parent to have that girl end up with either of my sons, so if Ethan felt that way and everyone was happy, it would be okay with me.

But that’s not why we’re here.

When Ethan called in the middle of the night I panicked. No parent likes to receive phone calls from their children at odd hours of the night. He sounded very concerned about Y/N and had mentioned that Grayson screwed up. I had kind of put the pieces together and Ethan filled in the details about Gray’s new girlfriend. My heart hurt for the poor girl. As far as I knew no words were ever exchanged from her about Grayson in that way, but we weren’t blind to it. She spent plenty of time with us both here and in New Jersey and I found myself daydreaming about the days of her and Grayson having kids running around my home and sitting together on our front porch hand in hand. She was everything he had ever said he wanted in a woman. Sometimes, we can’t see two inches in front of our face, and surely this was the situation with my son.

______________

Y/N POV

As we rounded the bend towards the gate I was all too familiar with, Ethan gently squeezed my knee. I looked over at him and he nodded in acknowledgment that he knew this would be hard for me but that he knew I could do it. And I would.

We parked in Ethan’s usual spot and everyone hopped out. I helped Lisa grab her bag as we headed towards the front door. Suddenly it opened

“E, where the hell have you been…” Grayson’s voice trailed off as he came storming out of the house and realized Ethan wasn’t alone.

“Mom? Cam? What are you guys doing here? Y/N were they on our calendars?” He looked at me happy but concerned

“Uh… I” I started but Ethan jumped in

“No, I stayed at Y/N’s last night because she wasn’t feeling well, mom texted me while I was there that it was a surprise and we just got back from picking them up” he explained, while looking at his mom and sister for back up. The three nodded in agreement.

“Okay… wait you stayed at Y/N’s?” Grayson asked looking between me and Ethan. He really had no idea what had happened last night, and here was Ethan covering my tracks. But Gray wasn’t stupid, he knew it wasn’t normal for Ethan to stay at my house even if I wasn’t feeling well. But Ethan brushed it off and changed the subject.

“Okay, let’s get inside, I want to drop off their bags so we can show them the new tiny home,” he said. Although there wasn’t much to show them except the empty shell at this point, it got the subject off of me and away from Grayson’s questions.

The four of us walked past Grayson in the driveway as he turned to watch us. I could tell something about this situation didn’t sit right with him, but I didn’t know why. He had a girlfriend. Ethan staying at my house was no concern of his.

We walked through the door and immediately I regretted being there. I could tell she was still there because there was a woman’s bag on the side table. She spent the night

We gathered in the kitchen, deciding what to do for the evening when Grayson came back into the kitchen with her in tow.

“Hey Mom, Cam, I want you to meet someone special. This is my girlfriend Alyana” Grayson said introducing the three of them.

Someone special. The words stung my ears. I hated what this was doing to me. How the heck was I supposed to come to work every day if I couldn’t even get through 5 minutes of being here. Surely now that she’s been introduced to everyone, Grayson plans to have her around a lot more. I was going to have to handle that.

I turned my attention to Ethan who was looking at his phone, ignoring the interaction in the room. He looked up from his phone and pulled my chair closer to his so I could see the video he was watching.

______________

Cameron POV

Surely my brother was joking. He presented this girl to us like she was some shiny surf board he won at the teen choice awards. The fake smile plastered on her face when she said hi was enough to make me puke. I saw right through her, and I knew if I saw through her so did Ethan. Grayson might be his twin but we were more on the same wavelength when it came to stuff like this. We can both spot a faker from miles away, while Grayson has the worst judge of character of anyone I know, clearly. Considering Y/N is sitting in the dining room with Ethan while this dumb ass is flaunting a girl I could replicate off of Instagram in a second.

“Hi, I’m Cameron” I tried my best to smile.

“I know! I’ve heard so much about the famous Cam” she said

“Cameron” I corrected her.

Grayson shot me a look. He knew I was being salty, but she didn’t know me. She didn’t know anything about me. Surely we were not on a nickname basis. My family and friends call me Cam, not some bimbo who’s using my brother for clout.

“Right, Cameron” she giggled her fake giggle.

I smiled roughly and turned to go sit with Ethan and Y/N. Surely whatever they were talking about would be much more fun than what was happening here.

______________

Y/N POV

Cam came and sat down next to me, smiling and placing her head on my shoulder. Did she know something I didn’t? Why did that smile seem sympathetic?

“Hey, do you guys want to go down to the beach for a little while and then grab some food?” Ethan broke the silence.

“Is that even a question? I absolutely want to go anywhere but here” I laughed while nudging him with my shoulder.

“I’m in, let me go get Mom,” Cameron said

“Can we please just go the four of us?” I asked Ethan quietly. I really didn’t know if I could handle staring at Grayson and Bimbo Barbie all night. Was I jealous of her? It was surely starting to seem that way.

Ethan nodded in agreement and quickly sent a text. At first, I didn’t know to whom until a pissed off Grayson stormed into the room.

“SO FIRST YOU SPEND THE ENTIRE NIGHT AT OUR ASSISTANTS HOUSE AND NOW YOU’RE EXCLUDING ME FROM PLANS WITH OUR FAMILY?!” Grayson shouted as Ethan stood over me in defense

Our Assistant? So now that’s how he saw me? What the fuck is happening.

“We just figured you guys might want some alone time Gray, no big deal, we’ll bring you guys back food if you want” Ethan covered for me. Again

I looked between Ethan and Grayson for a minute. Them arguing wasn’t really anything out of the norm, but I knew secretly it was because of me. Over my stupid feelings and it made me feel horrible.

“It’s okay E, I don’t have to go, you guys should go out as a family. Your mom and sister just got here, you should catch up” I tried to intervene.

“Well, all I see in this room is family” Lisa chimed in looking at me square in the eye. She was not going to let me bow out that easily. Little did I know she had come here for me, not them.

“Fine Ma, then we’ll all go,” Grayson said in a chilling tone, giving Ethan a smug look.

Great so it’ll just be me, the Dolans and Bimbo Barbie . One big happy family.

#ethan dolan #grayson dolan #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan fanfic #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan fanfic #dolan twins #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins imagine #avocadotoast

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livinasimminlife · 5 years ago

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Dear David...

If you’ve kept up with The Krazy Crazy Life of Kassiopeia Fullbright, you’ll know about the appearance of the Bayless family from Twinbrook. If not, then, ***minor spoiler alert!***

Davis Lamar is related to them... a.k.a. David Bayless. Arc 34, Remembering, briefly features the Bayless family. I decided to share some stills from my gameplay for fun.

Avery Bayless (14) is rather angry that the soda machine ate her simoleons. She really hoped for a refreshing drink after school.

Dear David, I really hate this blasted machine! I wish you were here to reach up with your long arms and grab the cola.

Frustrated, Avery gives up and comes home to play ball with her brother, Taye on their Bayuck swamp farm.

The days and nights kinda blend together, but every night, Taye and I play ball. It’s kinda nice. I know he wouldn’t admit it but he’s grown to be handsome while you’ve been gone... er... except for those ears!

Taye Bayless (17) tosses a baseball with his sister, Avery near the swamp. He’s taking a break from studying for exams, and he adores his kid sister.

At least I can wear my hair long to cover mine. The girls at school still make fun of me. I don’t know if I can ever show my face again there after falling flat on my pimply nose while trying to get that blasted cola!

Avery and Taye play ball in the yard near the water tower that provides fresh water for the Bayless family. Also Avery’s sporting her rainboots since the ground can be quite mushy in the swamps. Avery shares a special relationship with Taye as they both love the outdoors and are active.

But here on the farm, I can just be goofy self and laugh and play in the yard. No one’s gonna see me with all this swamp grass ‘round. Don’t feel like you gotta write back. It’s just stupid stuff here, really. Don’t even know howta end so bye, I guess. ~ Aves

Skye Bayless (16) plays the bass much like their older half-brother, Davis. They also have a flamboyant style. In game, when Skye aged up from toddler to child, they had a feminine hairstyle, and when they aged up to teen, Skye was actually wearing a dress. I decided Skye is gender fluid as the game encouraged me, preferring they/their as pronouns. Look at the pure joy on their face!

Evening hangs in sultry skies; the heat of sweetgrass swaying in the sweaty breeze. The scent of sun-soaked tea tickles my nose and tempts me away from practice. I ponder little and then I play the love song only Bayucks know and beat my foot upon the porch wood. I strum the notes you taught me b’fore and think of the soft twangs on a sweltering night that barely scratch the sky for which I’m named.

Skye shares a room with their older brother, Taye. Taye is a studious kid and is looking forward to university and getting out of the backwater swamp. Here he practicing writing his speech.

How do I start? I miss you sounds trite. I love you sounds stupid. But I do, mmkay? Uni apps are due soon and M’as breathi’n down’em my neck, but ya know...what she dont’ realize is I really wanna go and be out there in the world. And somehow I know its tough for ya’s now, but you make it seem okay... that the world aint so scary if you can face everythin’g that’s you have and still come out okay. So hang on... oh and um... when you get home... I still need help with apos’trophes. - Love, Taye (and yeah, Im cool with mushyness but dont’cha tell Ma).

Little River (5) Bayless is sad. She misses her big brother very much. She also lost her doll somewhere and fears the dog took off and buried it somewhere in the swamp.

Dear David, I miss you. I love you. My dolly is gone. I think the dog took it. I think the dog put it in the yard in the ground. I wish you was here. We could dig it up to...to...too...(it’s a big word - Chase helped me). together. ~ River

Shepherd Skeet Bayless may live in the Bayuck swamp, but he’s far from backward. True, he prefers the simple life, but he takes pride in his swamp farming skills. Here he tends to the sweetgrass his family has grown for generations and practices his sermons. After all, plants are very good listeners.

Son, I miss you. We can’t wait for you to be home. I think it would be good to spend time in the garden together. Plants have a healing nature to them. After all, the Good Lord gave us a garden to tend to give us purpose and a place. Enclosed are my notes from my latest sermon, some psalms, and a few of your favorite hymns. I’ve taken to preaching to the plants. I know it’s dumb, probably, but they listen. I hope you’ll listen and know that you just get well and get home soon, okay?

At twilight, Chase Bayless (19), all grown up, and capturing the land she calls home on the canvas. It’s a cooler evening than most, the mists of the swamp rising up to provide some low haze. She’s home on break from uni, an Education major, and she took up painting to unwind.

Dear David, I don’t want you to worry about me. Shark Racket broke my heart all those years ago and I know how angry you were. But today he brought me a cake. He dropped it off on the porch and ran away like a sissy, but I saw him through the curtains. I think he heard about your situation somehow. Townsfolk talk. The parishoners whisper among themselves on Sundays and I don’t like it. But you don’t need to worry about it. I’ll bop any of ‘em on the nose if they speak badly about you.

Ma Bayless... Gwayne, that is, has enchantress abilities. She hoped at least one of her children would inherit her supernatural genes, but alas! No matter how many kids she popped out, not one of them is “special.” She takes out her frustrations by crafting potions (legal and illegal) in the attic of the Bayless Manor.

Ma’am’s spendin’ most nights in the attic. I don’t think she’d admit it, but she feels guilty. She’s working on the perfect stress potion. She says it’s for her, but I don’t think so. I hear her mumblin’ to herself, hissing at herself, and she says your name a lot and that she’s uh... failed you. Don’t tell her I said that. She’d probably wring my neck like a spring chicken.

Avery, like her siblings, Davis and Skye, loves music. It brings a smile to her face every time she can tickle the ivories in the evenings. What southern home is complete without a family music room?

The armless statue of the goddess Veni offends Pa Bayless, but Chase brought the beauty back from her studies abroad in Sim Union. After three days of arguing, Gwayne finally convinced her husband to keep the peace and allow the lady to be on display.

Did I tell you I got to study abroad? You aren’t the only Bayless to travel now, big brother. I betcha can see my smile. I can still try and one up you, ya know? I spent some time in Championne, in the City of Lights. Oh it was beautiful! I wish you could’ve seen all the art and culture and that you could taste the scones. I’ll make you some when you return.You still like blueberries, right?

I’ve enclosed some of my silly scribblings from the trip. I hope you don’t mind. Tonight I’m painting on the porch. I can hear Skye and Avery both play different songs, and yet somehow they blend so beautifully. I think you’ve inspired them.

When she isn’t enchanting, Gwayne likes to feel the earth between her fingers. After all, an enchantress has a special relationship with nature. It’s the only time she can be “free” and doesn’t feel the pressures of motherhood and her business management career.

And Ma’am too. You know she loves you in her own way. She spends more time in the garden now than she ever did, in the section we used to call yours. She’s trying to cut back on her hours at city hall. I think she misses you. But yeah, don’t tell her I said it. This is our secret.

Taye gets in a late night workout in a dark corner of the attic. He really wants to grow out of the “skinny boy” stereotype. Alas! I don’t think he’ll grow into those ears!

Taye’s upstairs now fighting on the weight machine like you always did. He’s determined not to be so scrawny anymore.

In the backyard, River plays pirate in the treehouse. Land Ho!

And River... I caught her in the treehouse you built with her and Pa tonight. She sleeps out there most nights, playing pirate into the wee morning hours. She says she’s lookin’ out for you over the Gulf. You’ve got a guardian angel you know that? Well, I should sleep. I’ve got an online class in the morning and I need my beauty rest. I hope you’re hanging in there. Hurry home. ~ Yours, Chase

Hope you enjoyed!

(The arc itself is NSFW, but if you want to read the chapters featuring the Bayless family directly/indirectly, you can read Unyielding and Unexpected.)

#livinasimminlife #thekrazycrazylifeofkass #the krazy crazy life of kassiopeia fullbright second edition #the bayless family #ts3 sims #davis lamar #river bayless #taye bayless #avery bayless #skye bayless #chase bayless #gwayne bayless #skeet bayless #twinbrook #bayou #swamp farm #photo gallery #just for fun

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ruoyeming · 5 years ago

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My Fav Books, another chaotic list

Another quarantine review fest! I know I ranked my top anime but this is seriously too hard so I’m just going to list them to avoid hours of debate. Enjoy!

1) The Skulduggery Pleasant series

This whopper of a series (now at 15 books jesus christ I didn’t know there were that many I’ve only read about twelve) has a special place in my heart. I was FULLY obsessed with it throughout my tween - and teen - years, and for a reason. This shit just butters my bread like nothing else. The story follows a young girl Valkyrie Cain (who eventually becomes a young woman through the series) and her partner in crime, a fashionable living skeleton called Skulduggery Pleasant. They’re MAGICAL DETECTIVES!!!! Bitch!!! They use elemental magic - water, earth, fire, air - to fight off magic-wielding bad guys and look good doing it. The duo is hilarious and seriously shaped my sense of humour, the dry wit and comedic writing style stuck with me and influenced my own writing style to this day! As the series progresses we get a massive cast of characters but to me they’re all memorable, likable (mostly) and well-developed so that’s not an issue. I have no fukcing clue how Derek Landy comes up with his stories because every book in the series has an absolutely wild (yet unique) plot with its own twists and turns. It gets REALLY dark and depressing at times, gory, brutal etc etc especially in the later books I have no idea why this is labeled as a kids series.

10/10 for badassery, humour, and MAD codependency issues

2) The Feverwake series

This bitch is one hell of a YA series. It’s actually only a 2 book-series which is rare, but that’s not the only thing that sets it apart from other creations of its genre. It’s hard to explain the setup without waffling so I’ll just quote the blurb of the first book: “In the former United States, sixteen-year-old Noam Álvaro wakes up in a hospital bed, the sole survivor of the viral magic that killed his family and made him a technopath. His ability to control technology attracts the attention of the minister of defense and thrusts him into the magical elite of the nation of Carolinia.

The son of undocumented immigrants, Noam has spent his life fighting for the rights of refugees fleeing magical outbreaks—refugees Carolinia routinely deports with vicious efficiency. Sensing a way to make change, Noam accepts the minister’s offer to teach him the science behind his magic, secretly planning to use it against the government. But then he meets the minister’s son—cruel, dangerous, and achingly beautiful—and the way forward becomes less clear.”

As you can tell from this, the series is heavy on its politics but in a grounded, realistic and relevant way which is different to many other YA series. Marxist theory is brought up, and you can make some pretty strong links between the books and real events. The magic also has a semi-scientific explanation which is cool and adds to the realness. Anyways this series is action packed and full of twists, plus there’s a bisexual main character and queer romance at the core!! Wig!!! Very good for moral debate - how far is it acceptable to go to protect the oppressed before you become one of the oppressors? Dark and exciting series.

10/10 queer representation and political themes.

3) Spin the Dawn

It’s probably obvious that I’m biased towards YA books but they’re just so exciting and cool! Anyways this is about a girl living in a kind of alternate universe ancient China where magic exists. Maia Tamarin is a skilled seamstress who dreams of being the Imperial Tailor, a position that can only be held by a man. She poses as her brother to go to the royal palace and enter a competition full of skilled tailors, all vying for the role of imperial tailor. She also meets Edan; a mysterious, annoying, but SEXY mage who seems to know her secret identity? Oho? IMO this would be an elevated book if Edan had been a girl but that’s just me being gay. As the final challenge Maia is tasked with making 3 dresses from the sun, moon, and stars - a mission that takes her to the ends of the world in search of these magical materials (obvs Edan goes with her and they kiss kiss fall in love). It’s a fairly classic YA plot and characters but the combination of Project Runway, Mulan, and kind of Lord of the Rings(??) vibes makes for a very entertaining read. It’s also really fun to imagine what the clothes look like, plus the romance between Maia and Edan is very cute. Second book is yet to be published but sounds lit.

10/10 magic fashion and romance (despite its heterosexuality)

4) Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe

Usually I steer clear of angsty gay stories because I’ve consumed too much of the depressing narrative which is all about suffering because of being gay, but fuuuuuuck this book is like the definition of bittersweet. Mostly bitter to be fair but it has a happy ending which was lovely after the emotional torment of the book. It’s about two teen boys - Aristotle is angry and repressed, Dante is eccentric but kind, and the two eventually form a strong friendship after meeting at the local pool. It’s kind of obvious that Ari is in denial about a few things, which leads to some real sad boi hours. There’s also a devastating moment around halfway (not sure) through with a car accident which makes the whole thing 10x heavier. Despite all this, the book has its sweet moments - parents play a big role, but not in the way they usually do in queer stories - and like I said the ending is the bandage for your broken heart. I’m not sure what it is about the writing style, maybe the way it just cuts between scenes randomly or perhaps the way the dialogue and actions are so realistic, but it’s so different to any other book I’ve read that it’s stayed in my mind for a while after reading it.

10/10 really good philosophy plus supportive parents

5) The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue

Okay if this was a ranked list, this bad boy would be on its way to the top spot. It’s got everything: historical setting, gays, pirates, alchemy, humour, adventure, angst, character development, and some healthy second-hand embarrassment. It’s not complicated or philosophical but reading this book all in one go is like taking five shots and diving into a pool. It’s exciting and witty, but deals with darker themes like child abuse too. One of the MCs also has a disability and doesn’t treat it as something to be cured, which is a lesson our protagonist has to learn. Speaking of protagonists, Henry ‘Monty’ Montague is a great main character. He’s obnoxious, oblivious, and hedonistic yet quick-witted and passionate, and he has a good heart. Sometimes you just want to grab him by the shoulders and shake him for being such an ignorant idiot, but throughout the book he grows and learns to open his mind more (as well as becoming more humble). He’s a great example of a flawed yet likable main character. He is also a bisexual icon.

Oof forgot to even talk about the story. Monty embarks on a tour of Europe, usually taken by lads his age to get all cultured before they settle down and inherit the family company or whatever. With him are his younger sister Felicity, a girl with a brilliant mind for science who isn’t taken seriously by anyone because of her gender, and the lovely Percy, Monty’s lifelong best friend (and crush). Monty ends up stealing a very valuable object that turns the Tour into a manhunt across Europe, and drags the trio into a big ol’ conspiracy involving something that may or may not be the philosopher’s stone????

Issues of race, gender, and disability in historical context are really well done, and it’s an absolute banger of a book.

10/10 very exciting adventure, plus GREAT GAY ROMANCE

6) Heaven Official’s Blessing

HOOOOOO BOY. This is probably my absolute fave on this list. It’s a webnovel (originally Chinese but the full translation is online). Set in ancient china in the cultivation world (difficult as shit to explain if ur not into all of that but I’ll try), basically there’s three realms - the heavenly realm, the human/mortal realm, and the ghostly realm. If a mortal reaches a certain point (good deeds, power etc), they ascend to become a god - or if they fall far enough, they become a ghost.

I’ll just quote the author’s description again cause I don’t have the brain cells required:

“Eight hundred years ago, Xie Lian was the Crown Prince of the Xian Le kingdom. He was loved by his citizens and was considered the darling of the world. He ascended to the Heavens at a young age; however, due to unfortunate circumstances, was quickly banished back to the mortal realm. Years later, he ascends again–only to be banished again a few minutes after his ascension. Now, eight hundred years later, Xie Lian ascends to the Heavens for the third time as the laughing stock among all three realms. On his first task as a god thrice ascended, he meets a mysterious demon who rules the ghosts and terrifies the Heavens, yet, unbeknownst to Xie Lian, this demon king has been paying attention to him for a very, very long time.”

It’s hard to describe the enormity of this story and all the emotions it encapsulates, you really have to read it for yourself. But bitch the undying, pure, Hozier-devotion-level LOVE is by far my favourite part of this story. If you’re looking for an epic, god-tier gay romance, then this is it baby!! This story has comedy, action, and downright harrowingly depressing moments, but throughout is this achingly beautiful love between fallen god and last believer.

I don’t wanna give too much away cause there are some big ol’ plot reveals, but oooh this shit made me cry. The protagonist is MY FAVOURITE EVER I didn’t think it was possible to like a protag so much!! He’s legit my fave character! At first he seems oblivious and carefree but he’s just doing his goddamn best after all he’s been through and he’s so fukcing kind and just wants to help everyone for fuckcs sake excuse me I need to go have a breakdown.

Okay I’m back, anyway there’s a great cast of characters, even the background characters are all incredibly memorable and all given their time to shine and develop. My faves include Quan Yizhen, a rowdy himbo who just wants to fight, and Shi Qing Xuan, a friendly genderfluid god who controls the wind. Read this shit I’m not joking it’ll change your life.

10/10 for everything

#book review #book recommendations

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rwoan · 5 years ago

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𝒉𝒊 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆 ! oh gosh , i am so excited to finally be posting this ? ya girl has been ecstatic about this group for the past few days and just wow , thank you all for being here ! not to be emo , but i really appreciate your interest and excitement , i truly can’t wait to meet and write with you all . briefly , my name is lenny ( 22 , mst , she / her ) and i’ve been freezing my ass off in - 40 temperatures all week #canada . i’m a huge harry potter nerd and will gladly scream with you about ariana grande , harry styles , or the jonas brothers . below the cut is all that you need to know about my dear rowan , one of my favourite muses who i’ve developed so much in the past that what lies below is a novel and a half , so i apologize in advance . i will likely be messaging you all through discord , so keep an eye on your dms ! i’m the biggest h*e for plots , so straight up just throw ‘em all at me — angst , drama , fluff , tension , we love it all ! okay shut up , lenny , no one cares — mwah , love you all already !

❛ ⋆ ․ i totally just saw 𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒂𝒏 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒔 walking down sunset boulevard , looking so much like 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒔𝒄𝒉 that i had to do a double take ! the 𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓 year old has been living in the city of angels for 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 now and has made quite a name for 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 working as a 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 / 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒃𝒆𝒓 . i've heard they can be quite 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄 & 𝒐𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆 , but at least they're 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆 & 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒕 , hey ? they remind me so much of 𝒂 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒂 𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍 𝒇𝒖𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒐𝒔 , 𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒆 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒓𝒖𝒏 , 𝒈𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔 ( lenny , 22 , mst , she / her )

* / ♡ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒 .

full name : rowan georgina collins

nicknames : row

age / dob : twenty4 / september 1 , 1995

gender : cis female ( she / her )

sexuality : openly bisexual

hometown : calabasas , california

label : the epicure ( a person who takes particular pleasure in fine food and drink )

* / ♡ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 .

rowan comes from a fairly opulent background : her parents never married — in fact , her father came out as gay when she was young — but both were quite successful on their own independent ventures and raised row in a very happy , yet slightly spoiled , childhood

her mother is a big - time magazine editor and had sole custody of rowan in their lush calabasas home , but rowan has always remained incredibly close with her father , a celebrity chef , and often spent weekends and holidays in his long beach penthouse apartment .

because of her wealthy lifestyle ( and having a chef for a father ) rowan was exposed to fine cuisine at a young age . she had incredibly mature tastebuds — even at the age of like 6 she was munching on calamari and truffle oil . she honestly can’t remember a time she ever turned her nose up at trying something new , her father having instilled a deep curiosity and passion for all foods in her .

there honestly isn’t much else to say about her upbringing , there’s no big sob story or rising climax — rowan is incredibly grateful for the stable , happy , and comfortable life her parents blessed her with . she found going between homes quite exciting and looked forward to the double christmases and birthdays — which is a great symbol of how rowan looks at the world . while some may call it “ rose coloured glasses ” , rowan sees herself as an optimist and prefers to find the silver lining in most situations and considers dwelling on the negatives a waste of time .

alright , continuing on : when she was in her early teens , rowan started a food blog purely out of boredom and a general desire to share her passion for food . she started out by sharing low quality images of her meals and writing littles blurbs — nothing too fancy .

however , fast forward a couple years of ritualistic posting , her father discovered the blog one day and immediately shared it on his own social media ( because of course he had to brag about his little food connoisseur ) and row’s blog blew up from there . by the time she was 18 , rowan was getting paid to visit some nice ass restaurants around los angeles and write reviews on her blog , which was gaining interest with each post she wrote .

high school graduation came and went , and row’s online influence grew bigger and bigger , and continued to grow even as she attended the university of california to major in communications , which she envisioned would only serve to aid her in her online endeavours .

during her college career , rowan started up her youtube channel . it started as a couple videos that she linked in blog posts , prompted by questions from her followers about how she juggled her busy calendar , what her favourite recipes were , and more . her videos opened her up to an entirely new audience , and thus rowan blew up even more . she has since become a popular youtube star , her channel a collection of daily vlogs , cooking videos , restaurant reviews , and more .

my main inspo for rowan’s youtube aesthetic was alisha marie , our queen , with her casual daily vlogs and fun challenge videos , but with a mix of madelaine herself and laurdiy ( i imagine row as the foodie version of lauren ) , and those sort of vlog queens !

rowan graduated uofc with her degree in communications 2 years ago , when she was 21 , and has since been able to fully dedicate herself to her online presence . for the last two years , she’s been mainly focused on consistent posting on both ( although she did get rid of having a set schedule about a year and a half ago in order to ease up her stress ) .

* / ♡ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 .

label(s) : the epicure , the icarian , the aesthete , the sybarite

epicure : the whole basis of rowan’s existence is food . like , it’s pretty much the whole basis of everyone’s existence , but rowan is extra in love with food . she’s both incredibly passionate about eating and cooking , although possibly more so about eating — it is her job after all .

icarian : curiosity , adventure , and spontaneity are likely the three words most commonly associated with rowan — aside from food of course .

aesthete : to be a popular food blogger / youtuber / instagrammer you kinda have to have a good aesthetic , but rowan’s is extraordinarily good . the girl is always on the look out for cute backdrops for selfies , decor for her home , and new clothes to fill her wardrobe .

sybarite : materialism is probably row’s biggest downfall . she can’t help but have a deep inner desire to own all things on trend .

traits : materialistic , creative , passionate , self - indulgent , obsessive , honest , expressive , confident , starry - eyed

aesthetics : a camera roll full of food photos , large red waves , hourly instagram stories , iced coffee after a morning run , a red kiss pressed onto a white napkin , golden rings decorating manicured fingers , keyboard clicks at midnight , chilled mimosas paired with laughter .

personality : rowan’s definitely very bubbly and charismatic , but can also come off as quite spoiled , materialistic , and bossy at times . she knows what she wants , how she wants it , and she’ll stop at next to nothing to get it .

she practically radiates bde and oozes confidence .

her friends are literally her everything and she’d likely do anything for them . she’s definitely that Rich Friend™ who will buy your lunch for you , take you shopping for the perfect outfit when you land the interview of a lifetime , and also buy the first ( and most ) of many rounds of shots at the bar .

her home has an open door to anyone she cares about . no point in letting two spare bedrooms sit empty , as she says , and she’ll always welcome you in with open arms when needed .

she’s a party girl , but is also the girl who will be texting the group chat at 9am after a night out asking when brunch is .

above all , she’s incredibly passionate about her work . she is a virgo after all , so she’s very organized , ambitious , and a bit of a perfectionist . she’s never afraid to stay up all night ensuring her latest video is perfect , or will re-read a new blog post at least twenty times to make sure she didn’t miss a thing .

this ambition and perfectionism is both her saving grace and her downfall . it makes for incredibly cohesive , put - together , and strong content , but can also often drive her to the point of insanity of trying to make sure everything is just right .

* / ♡ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒 .

in order to keep this from becoming a novel ( too late ) , you can find some extra info about rowan by following the links below :

wanted plots .

headcanons .

pinterest .

playlist .

#( 𝒄 . 𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒂𝒏 ) / * ooc .#😘#angeles.intro

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elareine · 6 years ago

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In the shallows

Chapters: 1/6 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, some swearing Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd Characters: Tim Drake, Donna Troy Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, NO CAPES, Identity Porn, Romantic Comedy, Drama & Romance, Texting, Online Dating AO3: /18803473

Summary: Jason Todd is a rock star... and an asshole. Dick Grayson has to do a movie with him. Luckily, there's this cute guy he's started texting recently.

Jason Todd was a rock star.

Yeah, exactly. Now, Dick had worked with some… less than talented people on set before. He’d made his debut in dance movies, for God’s sake, of course not everyone had been ready to play Hamlet.

But a total newbie? Never been on stage or on a movie set before? Dick really wished the producers had consulted him about that before making the decision. They hadn’t even done a chemistry test.

Okay, sure, it was a blockbuster movie about an interracial gay couple. Funding wouldn’t come easy. If the names ‘Richard Grayson’ and ‘Jason Todd’ had to be attached to make the money happen, they would be. And Dick knew Tim Drake, the executive producer, well enough to trust him with this. Tim wouldn’t have cast Jason if he thought it’d be a total shit show.

The thing was - the script was beautiful. The writers had really poured their hearts into it, and it showed. Dick had almost forgotten to read it from an actor’s perspective, he’d been so engrossed. By the end, blinking away tears, he had texted his agent that he would do it before going on a run to shake some of the heaviness away.

It wasn’t like there was a sad ending, exactly. Dick wouldn’t have taken anything with a ‘bury your gays’ feel to it. It was just… it made him feel a lot, this script.

He wanted to do it justice. Hopefully, Jason Todd wouldn’t be the one to drag them all down.

Dick sighed and looked at the script in front of him again. Specifically, at the part marked: ‘Vano: [singing]…’

The other worry he had was quite the opposite from his first. At least Jason Todd didn’t have to worry about singing. Dick had heard his songs as much as anyone could without actively seeking them out, which was to say all the time and everywhere. Jason had been around for years at this point; it didn’t seem likely that his popularity would be abating any time soon.

(When he wasn’t busy critiquing Jason’s casting, Dick could freely admit that his songs were pretty great. They always gave him that on-the-road-looking-for-freedom feeling that he loved. He might be following Jason on Spotify, even, but shush.)

Dick, however… well. He’d been taking singing lessons ever since he’d moved into closer consideration for this role. His vocal coach attested him with enough skills for the songs he’d seen so far. He’d gotten the accent of his character down to pat, too, even when singing and screaming. Still, compared to Jason Todd…

And they would be singing duets.

Giving up on his concentration for the evening, Dick decided to just go for a run. He was already pretty sure he wouldn’t sleep tonight, but exhaustion might help.

It didn’t really. Dick slept like shit and then had to deal with the worst traffic he’d ever seen (and he’d lived in New York for years). He barely made it in time. Tim was already waiting for him outside the lot. That was a sure sign he was getting ready to herd Dick exactly where he needed to be as quickly as possible.

Tim greeted him with a friendly wave. “Hi, Dick, welcome on set! Kate is over at the sound studio, but she’ll be here any minute to start the read-through.”

“Thanks, Tim. Good to see you.” Dick refrained from hugging him only because he knew the younger man preferred it that way on set. “Sorry, I wanted to be here early. I seriously underestimated LA traffic.”

“Yes, I expected that. Just plan in enough time from now on, okay?”

“Of course, Tim.”

Tim sighed. “We’ll see, I guess.”

They entered the building together. Tim guided him towards a smaller meeting room. Jason Todd was already there, sitting in the small circle of chairs. There would be a full cast reading tomorrow; today it was pretty much only Kate, Jason and Dick with the producers.

Dick’s first thought was that he hadn’t expected Jason to look so… soft. He was used to the torn jeans and t-shirt look he rocked in his videos. The knitted sweater he was wearing didn’t exactly fit that image.

The smirk on his face, however, did.

Dick mentally steeled himself. Here we go. He held out his hand. “Hi, Jason. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Hi, Dick.” Jason’s handshake was firm without being too crushing. “Sorry we couldn’t meet up before. I’m pretty literally just coming back from a World Tour.”

Oh, great. Bragging.

“No worries. It’s good to get this started now.” He looked pointedly at the script in Jason’s hand. If Jason had just been on a world tour… “Did you get any time to prepare?”

“I’ll know my lines if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“It’s kind of about more than that.” Okay, that came out catty. “Like, the music, for example.”

Jason seemed to perk up at that. “Oh, yeah, that’s done. I did send the tapes of some suggestions to Kate. But we’ll workshop together, see what you think first.”

Dick would’ve preferred it if Jason had just presented him with finished sheet music and a tape he could imitate, honestly. He had no idea if he had any musical input to offer. And how did you workshop music, anyway? He’d done that with scenes before (though Kate wasn’t the type to welcome a lot of input from her actors beforehand), even settings, but music?

“Sure. Yeah. Let’s do that.” He tried to smile. “I’m looking forward to hearing what you came up with.”

It was probably a good thing Kate entered the room at that moment, introducing herself again and bidding them to start the read-through.

Dick usually lost himself in a performance pretty easily. Even in a read-through, it only meant that he focused even more on letting every emotion shine through his voice.

Vano was pretty unlike Dick himself. Sensitive, shy, in desperate need of approval (okay, that one Dick could relate to) and unsure. Dick found it interesting how his character was juxtaposed with his actions. Vano was so, so afraid; yet he let himself be swept up in a whirlwind romance and even ended up the one pursuing Jason’s character when everything seemed to fall apart. His courage, in the end, was as quiet as it was present. Dick was determined to do him right.

So he concentrated on developing his voice further. He wanted it to be recognisably different from Jason’s character, but also harmonious.

Still, he couldn’t help but judge Jason’s performance.

He wasn’t bad. Honestly, this wasn’t a great script for a read-through - a lot of stuff went unsaid between the two main characters. So a little wooden-ness was expected. Dick was a bit annoyed at the way he stumbled over lines sometimes as if he was reading them for the first time, though. Unprepared partners were the worst.

Afterwards, Kate didn’t look happy. Her first critique was voluminous, including more background notes on their characters and a very detailed rundown of what had sucked about their dialogue. Ah, well. Dick didn’t mind. She wasn’t known to be a coddler.

She complimented Dick on his excellent accent, though. He thought Jason (who spoke in his own accent, or at least the one he always used in interviews and stuff) looked a bit sour at that, which pissed Dick off. He’d worked hard for this, okay. He was actually a trained and studied actor, despite what some people might think.

It also made him wary of the months ahead. Jealousy on set wasn’t cool, even if it was purely professional.

“Tomorrow we’ll go through the script scene by scene and talk through your suggestions. Is there anything fundamental you’d like to say now?” Kate asked.

Dick shook his head. This was honestly one of the best scripts he’d ever read, and he trusted her direction fully. Jason seemed to hesitate, but then he followed suit.

Dick spent some time after talking with some of the crew members that were setting up the sets. He knew some of them from previous movie sets - Tim liked to reward good work with more, better-paid work - and was glad to chit-chat about their careers and families.

Still, Jason seemed to take his time, too. They arrived at the parking lot at about the same time.

“Can I give you a ride?” Dick offered when he noted that Jason was looking a bit lost.

“I’m actually here on my bike,” Jason said, pointing at a frankly gorgeous machine, black, sleek and utterly pretentious.

Dick mentally snorted. Of course he was. Rock star and all that

His own family sized van didn’t match up to that, but honestly, who cared.

“Okay. See you tomorrow, then.”

Jason didn’t even say goodbye, just waved. Dick was tired of him already.

When he entered the house he’d rented for the year, Dick headed straight for his studio and dropped down onto the mat. He needed a proper stretching after today and couldn’t quite face this house yet.

Mostly he was happy with it. It was spacious, including his own dance studio and a pool, and not too far away from the Wayne Brothers lot, but he was able to keep it up without no personnel beyond a cleaner and the occasional garden hand.

Days like these, it was a bit… lonely.

He would have been better off staying with his friend Donna Troy. She’d offered, after all. Dick had thought he would need some quiet to focus on this part, not to mention a room where he could practice his singing parts without annoying the shit out of everyone.

It was just that he wasn’t made for the quiet. His head got too loud when he wasn’t exercising. Usually, he filled that space by concentrating on his current role; he wasn’t precisely method but slipping into someone else’s headspace had always come easy to him. Today, though, that was exactly what he wanted to get away from.

He briefly toyed with the idea of going out and picking someone up. Getting laid worked better than pretty much anything else for him.

Except that wasn’t exactly what he wanted, either.

Look. It wasn’t as if Dick had problems meeting people. The opposite, really. Dick knew he had a good body, okay, and he was charming enough.

He wanted something else, though. He wanted to get to know someone without them already knowing (or thinking they knew) everything about him. He wanted to be sure someone actually liked him for himself. He wanted someone to call in the evenings when he came home from set. Someone to come home to.

Dick sighed and re-arranged his limbs into a backstretch.

People wished for this kind of things all the time. He was just being silly. His mother would’ve straight up laughed at him if he went to her complaining about the drawbacks of fame, a profession he loved and obscene amounts of money.

Dropping his hips open and leaning into that delicious burn, he took out his phone and texted Donna: Going out and getting laid, yes or no? Any bar tips?

The answer was immediate.

Donna: Honey just use tinder like the rest of us

…Why not.

Donna: That was a joke.

Donna: But go ahead I guess.

Thinking about it, Dick finished his routine and headed upstairs to change into some comfy sweats, then back down to the kitchen. A bowl of cereal wasn’t exactly a glamorous meal for a movie star - but neither were Dick’s cooking skills.

Grabbing a beer, he plopped down on his couch and gave in. At least the tinder app was free on the app store. Going through the set-up motions, he hit the next snag, though.

What do I use as a profile picture??? I can’t show my face on this, can I?

Donna: Use your abs

Donna: no wait

Donna: Your butt

Donna: Or maybe that’s too recognisable. Abs it is.

Dick chuckled.

…Thanks I think.

For a second he considered just cutting something out of a promo pic or one of his dozens of semi-nude photoshoots, but who the fuck knew how well Google would be able to match these up. Dick wasn’t going to risk the headline ‘Actor famous for starring in romances is looking for hook-up on tinder’ (though of course TMZ would be far pithier than that) just for his vanity.

Though he did find some shots that hadn’t ever been released and cropped his face out of one of these. That would do. As for his username… he went with the hero of the first movie he’d ever starred in and combined that with his year of birth once the system informed him the name was taken.

After a brief hesitation, he set his sexual preferences to ‘all genders’.

Finally, everything was set up. Dick settled down to check out some hot singles in his area.

Sadly, the selection wasn’t that great. Especially with the dudes. Dick was sure that about half of them were either a decade older or younger than they pretended to be. The women were clearly better at taking selfies, too.

It was possibly the wrong time to be picky. Dick wasn’t usually - a good smile was pretty much all it took on a good day. But hey, he had just spent the day in the company of the hottest rock star the 21st century had produced so far. Every mortal would have difficulty competing with that.

(Not with Jason’s personality though. Easily bottom 20% material there. Urgh. Dick was trying to forget about that.)

After that thought, he swiped right a few times. So far, no one had matched with him, but that was fine. He had just signed up, after all.

Then, finally, came a pic that stood out.

Funnily enough, this profile pic was as profile-less as Dick’s. All it showed was a bare back. It was mirror shot, probably, but with none of the glariness of the other pictures. The guy’s skin was almost as tanned as Dick’s, but what caught his eyes was the sheer endless mass of muscles it stretched across.

Dick swiped right.

A message appeared on the screen. ‘You matched with Rock_n_Rumble, 29’.

He switched apps and texted Donna again: There’s a cute guy! We matched! But I can’t just go meet up with him, can I? Wally would kill me

Donna: you genuinely just thought of that???

Yes^^’

Donna: Stop trying to make manga emojis happen again, Dick

Donna: Just… talk to him, flirt a bit; maybe it’ll be ok

Donna: This is LA after all

Donna: Or he’ll just send you a dick pic

Donna: I do not want to know if either of these possibilities occurs.

I will describe everything that happens in explicit, excruciating detail.

Dick switched back to tinder and pressed ‘OK’. A chatroom opened. He stared at the entry field for a long second, pondering how to start the conversation. He’d never felt the need for chat up lines before. Honesty and friendliness had always worked best for him. Hopefully, that would translate over into the Internet.

Nightwing86: Hi

Rock_n_Rumble: Hi.

This was where Dick would usually make a comment about the venue they were at or the way the other person looked, but… how did you compliment someone’s bare back without sounding like a total creep?

As he watched the seconds tick by without either of them writing anything, he realised that oh. Rock_n_Rumble wasn’t exactly in a better situation. Oh well, there was nothing for it then.

Nightwing86: With a body like that - what on Earth are you doing on this site?

Rock_n_Rumble: Shouldn’t I ask you the same thing?

Rock_n_Rumble: Musician, ex-addict, grew up in New York - and also shit at flirting, in case you didn’t notice. Should I continue with that list?

Nightwing86: Eh, you’re doing fine.

He was. Dick kinda dug the self-deprecating sarcasm. And at least he had something to work with now.

Nightwing86: Musician?

Rock_n_Rumble: I’m a guitarist

Nightwing86: Oh, you’re in a band?

Rock_n_Rumble: Kind of

Rock_n_Rumble: Nothing fixed, but I go on tour a lot. Weird staying in one place for work right now

He must be recording an album then. Considering that good guitarists in LA were like sand at a beach, Dick mentally re-evaluated the fame level of his conversation partner.

Nightwing86: I get that; I travel for work a lot too

Rock_n_Rumble: What do you do?

Dick considered lying, but honestly, what was the point? And anyway, they were in LA. There were thousands of people calling themselves actors here.

Nightwing86: I’m an actor.

Rock_n_Rumble: oh cool. Film or theatre?

Nightwing86: Mostly film these days. Was up on stage in NY for a bit, kinda miss it.

Rock_n_Rumble: Oh really? When? Might’ve seen you, I went to Broadway a lot once I could afford it.

Nightwing86: its been a while, 2004-2006

That information wouldn’t give him away. Again, tons of people tried to make it on Broadway. Still, maybe he should address the fact that he wasn’t ready to talk about who he was.

Rock_n_Rumble: So I notice neither of us is forthcoming about names and identifying information.

Rock_n_Rumble: Proposal: We stay anonymous for now, see how we get along, decide if we want to actually meet up later.

Nightwing86: oh thank god

Nightwing86: yeah, that would be great. I don’t like lying, but coming out to a stranger isn’t…

Rock_n_Rumble: same. Like, I’m technically out, but with the industry being what it is, the gossip isn’t fun.

Nightwing86: How does being ‘technically out’ work? All I ever get is ‘if you so much as breathe into the direction of someone who isn’t a cis woman we’ll kill you’

Rock_n_Rumble: It’s called ‘being a shit liar’.

Rock_n_Rumble: Also contrary enough that management knows that my reaction to being told that would probably result in me sucking a dick on stage.

Dick laughed.

Nightwing86: Now that is a mental image to take to bed with.

Rock_n_Rumble: I like that we’ve been chatting for ten minutes and I’ve already got a kink noted down.

Nightwing86: You remember you’re talking to an actor, right? Pretty sure we’re 85% exhibitionists.

Rock_n_Rumble: …okay, that’s a fair point.

Rock_n_Rumble: Still noting it down, though.

Nightwing86: Please tell me you’re not literally doing that.

Rock_n_Rumble: Maybe.

Rock_n_Rumble: Look, you want to exchange numbers? I’m not going to stay on this platform, I think.

Nightwing86: Aww, am I enough for you?

Nightwing86: 344-394-2222. Do me a favour and don’t pass that on.

Rock_n_Rumble: Promise. I’ll text you, just one sec.

Barely a few seconds later, a WhatsApp message popped up: Hi it’s Rock_n_Rumble. Thought this might work out better than text if you’re travelling a lot, too.

After some consideration, Dick saved the contact as ‘R_n_R’. The consideration was mostly about adding a butt or shoulder emoji to it, but he decided to be classy instead.

Out of curiosity, he checked out the WhatsApp profile of the other guy. Sadly, the pic was of a bright red guitar. His own was of the bird plushie that had accompanied him through his childhood and ever since, though, so he probably shouldn’t complain.

Hi again. Good thinking.

R_n_R: Oh good, it’s you and not someone completely unsuspecting.

R_n_R: So what are you up to? Apart from tindering, obviously.

Trying to decide if I want to watch something. Any Netflix recs?

Dick later mentally congratulated himself, because that question started a conversation that lasted for at least half an hour. Their taste didn’t seem too different, though Dick kinda had to snort when R_n_R recommended some of his own movies to him. In the end, they settled on ‘Luther’, because Idris Elba and murder. How exactly ‘recommend me a movie’ had turned into ‘let’s watch this series at the same time and shoot the shit over text’, Dick wasn’t sure, but it was pretty fun.

So fun, actually, that it took a text from Donna to remind him how much time had passed.

Donna: So how was it? Don’t leave me hanging, bird-boy.

I’m getting rid of tinder. All I got were three dick pics and two girls accusing me of catfishing them using Dick Grayson’s photos. Another girl explained to me that headless pics usually mean someone is married or in a relationship and doesn’t want their significant other to see. She called me an asshole for that, that’s why she even swiped right. Then she blocked me.

And if Dick was honest… he kinda liked the thought of trying this with Rock_n_Rumble, and Rock_n_Rumble only. The first person he’d talked to on there. The only one he connected to, even if only on a superficial level so far.

(Yes, he had screenshotted and saved that picture. Whatever.)

Donna: One gender clearly came out ahead in this.

And the cute guy is still chatting with me. We’re keeping it anon for now though. It’s been an hour and no sex talk, so I guess he’s legit.

Donna: facepalm Dick, do you ever consider your life might’ve turned into a romantic comedy?

We’re just talking.

Donna: Right. Well, I’ll leave you to do that. Good night, Dick. Have fun.

#jaydick #jason todd #dick grayson #fanfic #elareine writes #in the shallows #dc

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alpha-incipiens · 5 years ago

Text

Favourite music of the decade!

This is some of what I’d consider the most innovative, artistic and just great to listen to music from 2010-2019.

First a Lot of very good songs:

Crying - Premonitory dream

Arcade Fire - Normal person

Sufjan Stevens - I want to be well

Deerhunter - Sailing

Foster the People - Pumped up kicks

Carly Rae Jepsen - Boy problems

Grimes - Butterfly

Travis Scott - Butterfly effect

Future - March madness

Kanye West ft. Nicki Minaj et al - Monster

Juice Wrld - Won’t let go

Danny Brown - Downward spiral

Kendrick Lamar - Sing about me, I’m dying of thirst

Kate Tempest - Marshall Law

The Avalanches - Stepkids

Iglooghost - Bug thief

Vektroid - Yr heart

Ariel Pink - Little wig

Mac Demarco - Sherrill

Vektor - Charging the void

Jyocho - 太陽と暮らしてきた [family]

Panic! at the disco - Ready to go

The Wonder Years - An American religion

Oso oso - Wake up next to god

The World Is a Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid to Die - I can be afraid of anything

And my top 20(+2) albums:

Calling Rich gang’s style influential on trap would be like saying Nirvana may have had some impact on early-90s grunge. In 2019 with trap so omnipresent in popular music, hip hop or otherwise, through the impact of artists like Drake and Travis Scott it’s almost hard to remember when this was a niche genre - it was Rich gang that popularised its modern sound here. Birdman’s beats with their rattling hi-hats and deep bass could have been made 5 years later without arousing suspicion, while Rich Homie Quan and Young Thug deliver consistently entertaining flows and numerous bangers between them. Thugger, this being his first major project, steals the show with his yelpy and hilarious rapping style. This may have once been the defining sound of house parties in the Atlanta projects; now it can be heard blasting in the night from white people’s sound systems around the world.

Early 21p may have never aimed to be cool, to avoid a certain appearance of lameness, but they did have a knack for writing some really catchy pop with an optimistic message. To the devoted, the critics of Pilots’ apparent mishmash of nerdy rap, sentimental piano balladry and EDM production were just stuffy, wanting music to stay how it was back-in-the-day forever and unwilling to get with the times. This viewpoint is understandable when you approach this album openly and actually listen to Tyler Joseph’s lyrics about youthful anxiety and insecurity, delivered with real conviction and sincerity, actually recognise that disparate musical elements are all there for emotional punch. A few songs do underwhelm. But this is emo for post-emo Gen Z’s and it’s easy to see why to some it can be deeply affecting.

The musical ancestor to the ongoing and endless stream of ‘lo-fi hip hop beats’ youtube mixes, chillwave filled the same low-stress niche, and Dive released at the peak of the genre’s relevance. Tycho’s woozy, mellow sound prominently features rich acoustic and bass guitar melodies over warm synths, enhancing the music’s organic feel compared to that of purely digital producers in the genre. The experience of starting this album is like waking up in a soft bed, the cover’s gorgeous sunrise reddening the room’s walls, while a guitarist improvises somewhere on the Mediterranean streets outside. And it is indeed great to study or relax to!

Simple, minimal acoustic guitar and vocals. If you’ve got talent this type of music shows it, or else it doesn’t: perfect then for Ichiko Aoba. Her touch is light, her songs calm, meditative, in no rush to get anywhere. As if serenely watching a natural landscape, one can best understand and enjoy Aoba’s music in quiet and peaceful appreciation.

Through the incorporation of genres like shoegaze and alternative rock, Deafheaven managed to create a rare thing: a metal album that’s both heavy and accessible, needing no sacrifice of one for the other’s sake. Over these four main songs, there’s a sensation of being taken on an intense, atmospheric and even emotional journey, with the band stepping away from the negativity and misanthropy that dominates most metal. The vocals, closer to the confessionalism of screamo than classic black metal shrieks, express more sadness than they do aggression, and in respites between solid blaring walls of guitar and drums, calm pianos and gently strummed guitar passages set a pensive tone. This totally enveloping, flawlessly produced sound can take you away, like My Bloody Valentine’s best work, into a dream or trance.

By the late 2000s MCR had taken their thrones as the kings of a subculture formed from the coalition of goth, emo, scene and other assorted Hot Topic-donned kids, and earned a lifelong place in the hearts of many a depressed teenager. But after the generation-defining The Black Parade Gerard Way took off the white facepaint and skeleton costume, ditched the lyrics about corpse brides and vampires, and embraced an anthemic, purely pop punk sound. The silly story of Danger Days, set in a dystopian California where villainous corporations rule and only the Punks can stop them, serves as a kind of idealised setting for the all-out rebellion against authority and normality that so many fantasised about taking part in. The band’s electrifying performances are the most uplifting of their decade making music. For many diehards the upbeat sound here was a celebration that they’d made it through the most difficult years of their lives, and a spit in the face of those who’d done them wrong.

The teller of rural American tales, the indie legend, the teen-whisperer himself. John Darnielle, long past his early lo-fidelity home recordings and now backed by a full band, loses none of the heart his songs are famous for. The theme of the album, taken straight from John’s childhood when the pro wrestling on TV offered an escape from his abusive stepfather, is complemented by the country and Tex-Mex flavouring to the instrumentation. Some of the best lyrics in his long career infuse the stories of wrestlers with universal meaning - his characters try, fail, lose hope, reckon with their mediocrity, and when they step into the ring they’re up against all the adversity life can throw at them. John Darnielle’s saying that when that happens, you stand up and sock back.

Folk music was always a major part of the Scandinavian black metal scene during its peak years, so when American musicians began exploring the genre naturally they incorporated American styles of folk. The complex, oppressive and sometimes hellish compositions here, starkly contrasted with bluegrass that sounds straight from the campfire circle, give the impression of life in the uncharted woods of the American frontier, in the middle of a brutally cold winter. Almost unbelievably, one-man-band Austin Lunn plays every instrument on the album: multiple guitar parts, bass and drums as well as banjo, fiddle, and woodwinds.

Andy Stott seems to delight in making his music as unnerving, haunting, perhaps even scary, as possible. The female vocals these songs are built around become ghostly, echoing and overlapping themselves disorientingly. The percussion, audibly resembling metal clanging, rustling or rattling in the distance, is often left to stand for its own, creating a tense space it feels like something should be filling. UK-based club and dub music can be felt influencing the grimy almost-but-not-quite danceable rhythms here, but the lo-fi recording and menacing vibe makes this feel like a rave at some sort of dimly lit abandoned factory.

There’s so much Mad Max in this album you can just picture it being set to images of freights burning across the desert. True to its title, the nine songs on Nonagon Infinity roll into each other as if part of one big perpetual composition, with the end looping back seamlessly to the start and musical motifs cropping up both before and after the song they form the base of. With its fuzzy, raw sound, bluesy harmonica and wild whooping, the Gizz create a truly rollicking rock’n’roll experience. The band would go on to release 5 albums within twelve months a year later, but Nonagon shows these seven Australian madmen at the height of their powers.

Sometimes you just want to listen to fun, hyperactive pop. The spirit of 8-bit video game soundtracks and snappy pop punk come together to create a vividly digital world of sound that seems to celebrate the worldliness, connectivity and shiny neon colours of early 2010s internet culture and social media. The up-pitched vocals and general auditory mania recall firmly Online musical trends like nightcore and vocaloid, while the beats pulse away, compelling you to dance like this is a house party and the best playlist ever assembled is on. It demands to be listened to at night with headphones, in a room lit only by your laptop screen.

“You hate everyone. To you everyone’s either a moron, or a creep or a poser. Why do you suddenly care about their opinion of you?” “Because I’m shallow, okay?! … I want them to like me.”

The fact that that Malcolm In The Middle quote is sampled at the emotional climax of this record should give some idea to the absurdity that defines Brave Little Abacus. It’s not even the only sample from the show on here. And yet the passion and urgency so evident in Adam Demirjian’s lispy singing and the band’s nostalgia-inducing, even cozy, melodies are made to stir feelings. The tearjerker chords and guitar progressions are so distinctive of emo bands with that special US-midwest melancholia, and they are interspersed with warm ambiance and playful sound effects ripped from TV and video games, seemingly vintage throwbacks to a sunny childhood. Demirjian’s lyrics, yelled out as if through tears or in the middle of a panic attack, verge on word salad in their abstraction, but that’s not the point: you can feel his small town loneliness and sense the trips he’s spent lost on memory lane. The combined effect all adds to Just Got Back’s themes of adolescence and the trauma of leaving it. While legendary in certain internet communities for this album and their 2009 masterpiece Masked Dancers, the band remains obscure to wider audiences.

These Danish punks know how to convey emotion through their raw and dramatic songs. Elias Rønnenfelt’s vocal presence and charisma cannot be ignored: his husky voice drawls, at times breaks, gasps for breath, builds up the deeply impassioned, intense force behind his words. The band sounds free and wild, unrestrained by a tight adherence to tempo, often speeding up, slowing down or straying from the vocals within the same song, as if playing live. Instrumentally the command over loud and quiet, tension and release, accentuates the vocals in crafting the album’s pace. Horns and saloon pianos throughout give the feel of a performance in a smoky, underground blues bar, with Rønnenfelt swaying onstage as he howls the romantic, distraught, heartbroken lyrics he truly believes in.

At some point on first listening to Death Grips, a thought along the lines of “He really yells like this the whole way through, huh?” probably crosses the mind. When Exmilitary first appeared, quietly uploaded to the internet, the rapper’s name and identity unknown, another likely reaction among listeners might have been “What am I even listening to?” But perhaps more revolutionary than Death Grips’ incredibly aggressive sound and style might have been its foreshadowing of how over the next decade underground rap acts would explode into the mainstream through viral songs, online word of mouth and memes. It showed all you needed to come from nowhere to the top of the game was to seize attention, and it did that and far more. MC Ride’s intoxicatingly crass, intense rapping captures the energy of a mosh pit where injuries happen, the barrage of sensations of a coke high, while the eclectic mix of rock and glitchy electronics on the instrumentals is disorienting in the best way. If rap were rock and this was 1977, Death Grips would have just invented punk. Ride’s lyrics paint a confrontational, hyper-macho persona; unlike much hip hop braggadocio, the overwhelming impression given is that Ride truly does not care what anyone thinks. He just goes hard and does not stop. It’s music to punch the wall to.

Inspired by classic rock operas, this concept album represents some major ambition and innovation in musical storytelling. Delivered in frontman Damian Abraham’s gravelly shouted vocals, the complex lyrical narrative of the album follows a factory worker, an activist and their struggle against the omnipotent author (Abraham himself) who controls their fates. Featuring devices like unreliable narrators and fourth-wall breaking, it takes some serious reading into to untangle. But it’s the bright guitarwork, combining upbeat punk rock and indie to create some killer riffs, that gives the album its furious energy and cinematic proportions.

Joanna Newsom is enchanted by the past. Like 2006’s ambitious Ys, the music on Divers makes this evident with its invocation of Western classical and medieval music, throwing antiquated instruments like clavichords together with lush string orchestration, woodwinds, organs, folk guitar and Newsom’s signature harp. With her soulful, moving vocals leading the way, it’s hard not to imagine her as some kind of Renaissance-era country woman contemplating nature, love and mortality in the fields and the woods. As always Newsom proves herself a stunningly original and creative arranger with the sheer compositional intricacy and flow of these songs, and most of all the harmonious intertwining of singing and instrumental backing.

Burial’s music is born from the London night: the bustle of the streets, the faint sounds from distant raves, the buskers, the rain on bus windows. This EP’s dreamlike quality makes listening to it feel like taking a trip across the city well after midnight, watching the lights go by, with no idea where you hope to get to. Every single sound and effect on these two songs is so precisely chosen, from the shifting and shuffling beats, the swelling synths and wordless vocals that sound like a club from a different dimension, the ambient hiss and pop of a vinyl record. Musically this sound is drawn from UK-based scenes like 2-step and drum ‘n bass, but twisted into such a moody and abstracted form as to be nearly unrecognisable as dubstep. Just when this urban, dismal sound is at its most oppressive, heavenly soul singers or organs cut through like a ray of light in the dark.

There’s an imaginary rulebook of how construct music, how to properly make tempos and combinations of notes sound harmonious, and Gorguts have spent their career ripping it up and throwing it in the bin. On 1998’s seminal Obscura, their atonal experimentation sounded at times like random noises in random order. But listen closely to Obscura or Colored Sands, their return after a long hiatus, and the method behind the madness emerges. One mark of great death metal is that it’s impossible to predict what direction it will go even a few seconds in advance, and the band achieves this while presenting a heavy, slow, momentous sound. The density of inspired riffs, and the intricate balancing of loud and quiet, fast and slow paced throughout these songs are exceptional. In instrumental sections the guitars will echo out as if across a barren plane, then the song will build up to the momentum of a freight train. Behind the crashing and twisting walls of guitar the patterns of blast beat drumming are almost mathematical in nature. Luc Lemay’s harsh bellows sound like a warlord’s cry or a pure expression of rage to the void. It’s threatening, menacing, unapproachable, but it all makes sense in the end.

Futuristic yet deeply retro, Blank Banshee’s music takes vaporwave beyond its roots in the pure consumerist parody of artists like Vektroid and James Ferraro and makes it actually sound amazing. Songs are built out of a single vocal snippet processed beyond recognition, new agey synthesisers, Windows XP-era computer noises, hilariously out of place instruments, all set to the 808 bass and hi-hats of hip-hop style beats. The genre’s pioneers intentionally sucked the soul from their music using samples pulled from 70s and 80s elevators, infomercials and corporate lounges - here the throwback seems to be to the early 2000s childhood of the internet, and the influence of a time when email and forums were revolutionary can be felt. The effect of this insanity is an album that whirls by like a techno-psychedelic haze: the atmosphere of dark trap beats places you squarely in a 2013 studio one moment, the next you’re surrounded by relaxing midi pianos and humming that a temple of new age practitioners would meditate to. Still, at some point when listening to this album, perhaps when the ridiculous steel drums kick in near the end, you realise that this is all to some degree a joke, and a funny one. It’s hard to overstate what an entertaining half-hour this thing is.

While 2012’s Good Kid, m.a.a.d City presented a movie in album form of Kendrick’s childhood and early adult years, TPAB’s journey is one of personal growth, introspection, and nuanced examination of the state of race in post-Ferguson America. It’s simultaneously the Zeitgeist for the US in 2015 and a soul-search in the therapist’s office. Sounding deeply vulnerable, he openly discusses depression, alcoholism, religion and feelings of helplessness. The White House and associated gangstas on the cover give some idea to the album’s political themes, with Lamar contrasting Obama’s presidency to the political powerlessness and lifelong ghetto entrapment of millions of black Americans. Everything I’ve written about the lyrics here really only scratches the surface because the words here are substantive, complex and dense with meaning. Near enough every bar can be analysed for multiple meanings and interpretations, essays can and have been written on the overall work, anything less does not do justice. The musical versatility on display is astounding: the album acts as an extravaganza of African-American music, from smooth west coast G-funk to east coast grit, neo-soul and rock to beat poetry, and most of all jazz. Like an expertly laid character arc the record progresses through its ideas in such a way that they’re all impactful, with the slurred rapping imitating a depressed drunken stupor followed later by exuberant, defiant cries of “I love myself!”, the white-hot rage against police brutality balanced by the hopeful mantra: “do you hear me, do you feel me, we gon be alright”. Perhaps the most culturally significant album of the 2010s and an essential piece of the hip-hop canon.

This harrowing hour chronicles the struggles and everyday tragedy of a series of characters and their relationship with the city they live in, narratively driven by some outstandingly poetic lyrics. Jordan Dreyer’s wordy tales despair at the poverty, gang violence and urban decay in the band’s native Grand Rapids, Michigan, an almost childlike open-hearted naivete in his words as he empathises with the broken and alienated people in these songs. There’s no jaded sneer or sly lesson to be learned as he sings about the child killed by a stray bullet or the homebird left alone after all their friends move away, just genuine second-hand sadness and a dream that compassion and community will eventually heal the pain. Taking elements from bands like At the Drive-In’s fusion of punk and progressive, and mewithoutyou’s shout-sung vocals, La Dispute hones its sound to a razor edge to put fierce instrumental power behind the lyrics. Not an easy listen, but a sharply written songbook and a perfect execution on its concept.

Around 2008, Joanna Newsom met comedian Andy Samberg. Within a year, their relationship was becoming the basis upon which the poetry of Have One on Me was spun. Newsom’s lyrics, exploring her relationship with her future-husband, nature, death, spirituality, are above all else loving. Through her warm and vibrant voice, at times an operatic trill and in others deeply soulful, she expresses the joy of love for another, the peace and earthly connection of her beloved pastoral lifestyle, deeply affecting melancholy and grief. Contemplative, artful, genuine or expressive: every lyric in every sweet melody is used to offer her ruminations on life or overflowings of passion.

More so than her previous and next albums, the feel of the album is of not just a folkloric past but also the present day, with drums, substantial brass and string arrangements, and even electric guitar anchoring the sound to Newsom’s real, not imaginary, life in the 21st century. Yet songs here with moods or settings evoking simpler lifestyles and the women living them in 1800s California or the Brontës’ English moors still have a universal relevance. Whether rooted in past of present, the instrumental variety of these compositions, from classical solo piano, grand orchestral arrangements led by harp, to the twang of country guitars or intricate vocal harmonising, makes it apparent that this is the work of a master songwriter in full command of well over a dozen talented musicians. Ultimately, what makes this my favourite album of the decade is that, very simply, it is one stunningly beautiful song after another, all collated into a cohesive 2-hour portrait of Newsom’s soul.

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