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boysplanetrecaps · 9 months

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Produce 48 Recaps: Entrances (episode 1)

Hello there, National Producer! (That’s you. You’re a National Producer.)

Do you miss giant scale Korean reality shows? Are you fainting away, wishing there was one to watch? Or are you, perhaps, a fan of AleXa, Alice/Elris, Bugaboo, Cherry Bullet, El7zup, Everglow, H1-Key, IVE, IZ*one, k-dramas, Kep1er, Le Sserafim, Lightsum, Purple Kiss, Queenz Eye, Rocket Punch, Secret Number, or any of the 48 franchises - AKB48, HKT48, or NMB48? Did you watch Sixteen or Produce 101 and want to know what happened later? Did you watch GirlsPlanet999 or Queendom Puzzle and want to know what happened before? Are you bored and enjoy snarky recaps of tv shows from five and a half years ago? If you answered yes to at least one of those questions, then stick around! And if you didn’t, stick around anyway because this is going to be great. But if you’re not a fan of (a) honest assessment of skills and performance (b) curse words ( c ) sarcasm (d) long, chatty, rabbit-hole digging, silly recaps that take longer to read than it would take to watch the show, maybe not.

You might be wondering, well, who are you, anyway? I’m an adult female human being living somewhere in North America. You can call me BPR-Unnie (or BPR-Noona, if that’s better for you. This link may help you decide!) I know a smattering of Korean and a bit about Korean culture, but I’m not Korean. I know a smattering of Japanese as well but I’m also not Japanese. My favorite kpop group is EXO and from that you would be correct to conclude I tend to have a bias toward excellent singing. But if I sneak in the fact that I have watched more than my fair share of Kai fancams, you’ll learn that I am not immune to stage presence and dancing. I like girl groups and boy groups equally and am basically just the multi-est of multi-stans, though “stanning” for me doesn’t tend to include watching variety content or buying things. For the most part, I just listen to music and watch performances.

If you’re wondering, what the heck is Produce 48? As Wikipedia says, it was “the third season of the South Korean reality competition series Produce 101. It was a large-scale project in which the public ‘produces’ a girl group by voting for members out of a pool of 96 contestants from South Korea and Japan…. The show was a collaboration between the MNET series Produce 101 and the J-pop idol group AKB48.” The winning 12 girls were announced as new project group IZ*One on August 31, 2018. (Other side note: IZ*one is pronounced “is-one” not “eye-zone”, per the Korean phonetics.)

It’s fun to go back and rewatch this show because around a third of these girls went on to do other things in the world of Kpop, and it’s fun to see them when they were so much younger. Also, shows like this are fun and weird just in general.

This recap will spoil some things, but not every single thing. I’m going to, as we go along, mention where various people end up -- I’m assuming that if you’re here, you either already know or don’t mind being spoilered on that kind thing. I will point out future members of Alice/Elris, Bugaboo, Cherry Bullet, Everglow, H1-Key, IVE, Le Sserafim, Kep1er, Lightsum, Purple Kiss, Queenz Eye, Rocket Punch and Secret Number. I’ll also point out future Queendom Puzzle visitors. But I’m not going to go out of my way to tell you exactly who makes the final lineup of IZ*one, exactly when people will be eliminated, and where every single person is going to end up (I’ll tell you after they get eliminated). That seems like the best compromise based on the poll. Plenty of people become famous after a show like this without making the final line up of the debut group -- like G-Idle’s Soyeon on Produce 101. So if you don’t know the name of every member of IZ*one, you can watch the show along with me and enjoy it, while still knowing who everyone is. And if you do want to be spoilered on who makes it into IZ*one, you can just look up the names of the members and keep that handy as you read. I hope that all makes sense!

I actually watched Produce 48 many years ago -- maybe 2019? It was after IZ*one had already debuted, so I was watching to get caught up. It was the first such show I ever watched and I wasn’t in the habit yet of taking notes to keep track of everyone, so for the most part I had no idea who anyone was the whole time. I mean, with 96 girls, many of whom meet certain beauty standards and thus can look quite similar to one another, and all of whom are in the habit of changing their hair/eye color/style constantly, it’s hard. So I have almost no memory of the show except for two things: (1) loving Huh Yunjin and (2) feeling sorry for the girl who the show made fun of for having intense eyes. I thought Yunjin was obviously the best on the whole damn show and was irritated that she was ever ranked anything other than first fucking place, and that other girl, I just wanted to give her all the hugs. We’ll meet her soon enough!

Finally, you may wonder, where am I watching the show? I watch it here: https://kshow123.tv/show/produce-48/episode-1.html I have to note that sites like this are really spammy and you’ll need a good adblocker and, to be on the safe side, working anti-virus software before you to click that link. Once you’re on the page, when you first click “play” on the video, it always opens a pop up ad that you have to close and then try again, when it will actually play. The pop-ups I’ve seen haven’t been offensive or gross in any way, and this site is less spammy than the one called kisstvshow, which bombards you with actual photos of actual peens like, immediately. Just close-up peens, glistening at you. No thank you. You can also find clips of the show on Youtube, but they’re kind of disorganized. There are some bits and pieces of episode 1 in this playlist. I’ll also provide links to individual auditions as we go.

Ok, let’s go!

We start off with some typical MNET self-congratulatory stuff -- all the buzz about this show before it even debuted! -- complete with a picture of THE SAKURA™, future visual queen of Le Sserafim. Then as a gentle piano rendition of our soon-to-be-favorite song Neko-ya plays, a voice over talks about what the 96 girls (and women) on this show think about their training journey, and we see the lovely profile of Huh Yunjin. Yay! My favorite!

We hear that it’s hard for them to be trainees and that sometimes they almost want to give up. But they keep pushing forward to try. 96 seeds working hard to sprout, and the national producers will shine on them like sunshine! Awww. Produce48 starts now!

An alarm rings, shocking us awake from our gentle piano daydream. We’re confronted with… this. Whatever this is.

It’s Lee Seung Gi, the host this time! His bed is vertical! It makes too much sense!

Ok, folks, for me personally, Lee Seung Gi being host is super important, because he’s sort of the reason I’m even here. He was one of the stars of the ridiculous, the sublime, the problematic, the perfect, My Girlfriend is a Gumiho.

This drama aired on a local Korean-language cable channel back in the day (I lived in a major city that showed foreign programming on cable), and I stumbled on it while changing channels and stood there staring at it wondering what in the actual fuck I was watching. Who needs subtitles or any knowledge of Korean when you have… this?

It’s the first piece of Korean culture I ever consumed, other than kimchi. This was even before Gangnam Style! It led to me watching more k-dramas, including, eventually, It's Okay, That's Love, starring Do Kyungsoo, also known as EXO’s D.O. I was curious about what he’d be like as a musical performer, and the rest is history. So, what I’m saying is, Lee Seung Gi set off a chain reaction that led to me eventually recapping his own performance as host of this show. The circle is complete.

Lee Seung-gi (born 1987) has been a singer, specifically a solo artist, as well as an actor, since 2004. He’s like Rain, but not as irritating. He hasn’t made much money from it because of his agency stealing from him. In fact, in April of 2023, a law was passed called “the Lee Seung-gi Incident Prevention Act” which requires entertainment companies to disclose their earnings settlement details to their celebrities at least once a year. Seems like a good thing to do. He’s still in demand, I’m sure, and quite loved, so he’ll land on his feet no matter what. Seung-gi, fighting!!

Ok, back to the show! Seung-gi explains how to vote, which we can skip -- the only info of note is that only Koreans could vote back then, quite different from the modern era -- and go to about 5:30 for an extremely bombastic set reveal.

5:49 The girls start to walk in

Note: All ages given are the (international) ages of the girls at the start of the series.

The first three to walk in are the Yuehua trainees.

Left to right: Yiren, Sihyeon, Yena

Kim Si Hyeon (김시현), age 18, in the pinky/purpley long sleeved shirt

She was also on Produce 101 (first season) as a “kaein” (individual/no-agency) trainee, where she did pretty well (made it to episode 8), but didn’t necessarily stand out. After this show, she debuted as part of Everglow, where she performs under her real name and is currently the leader, as well as a visual and “face of the group.”

Choi Ye Na (최예나), age 18, with her hair in a ponytail. We’ll be seeing a lot of her this episode!

Wang Yi Ren (왕이런), age 17, pink shirt with black edges, statement belt

She is actually Chinese, though she speaks Korean pretty fluently. You probably know her now as a member of Everglow, where she is lead dancer as well as a visual and also the “face of the group.” How many faces can a group have? Also, isn’t Mia the face of the group, as well as the body and the voice and the feet and the hands? Sigh. I really like Everglow. We just… all know the drill with line distribution and center time.

They come in and exclaim how pretty and shiny the set is and say “daebak” a lot. They sit down in a row along the top, and faintly, in the distance, Bon Bon Chocolate begins to form in a songwriter’s head.

Next in is Kim Min Ju (김민주) from Urban Works. She’s 17. She was a child actress before the show. The others are impressed that she’s here by herself and that she’s very pretty.

I love how in Korea having a small face is a compliment.

She goes to sit in the first place seat, then changes her mind and chooses 5th place instead so she doesn’t have to sit up so high.

Up next is YG Kplus, a modeling agency not to be confused with regular YG, the agency that is home to Blackpink and Treasure. The trainees are Ahn Ye Won (안예원), age 17, and Choi Yeon Soo (최연수), age 19. Yeon Soo has a celebrity chef for a father but doesn’t want to just be another nepo baby. She has the black skirt, while her label-mate Ye Won is in all red. They walk in to the strains of Blurred Lines (🤢) and the other girls exclaim jealously about how tall they are. Yewon is 172 cm and Yeonsoo is 170 cm, making them both about 5’6.

Next in is a group from CNC School, featuring some familiar faces!

Left to right: Kim Yubin, Kim Da Yeon, Lee YuJeong, Yoon Eun Bin, Hong Ye Ji

Kim Yu Bin (김유빈) is 16.

Kim Da Yeon (김다연) is 15 and you may know her (now) from GirlsPlanet999 and Kep1er. Aww, this is before she got her teeth done! She’s adorable. I am a Dayeon apologist and will hear no words against her.

Lee Yu Jeong (이유정) is 14 and you may know her (now) from Lightsum.

Yoon Eun Bin (윤은빈) is 14.

Hong Ye Ji (홍예지) is 16.

Yena thinks that the CNC girls look like babies. I think she looks like a baby! And this old lady I tutored today told me that *I* look like a baby. So I guess everyone is a baby.

Next is MMO, home to the sexy Kang Daniel, everyone’s fave from Produce101 Season 2 (often called “Broduce101”). The mere mention of his name sends Yena into a tizzy. I mean, low key same (though I’m more of an Ong Seungwoo fan [though not enough to watch his Pepsi commercial omg what was that?!?]). Anyway, out comes MMO’s Won Seo Yeon (원서연), age 18, a cute girl with a nice low voice and a pretty blue outfit. She seems worried about living up to her sunbae’s success.

Next comes pretty, big eyed Ko Yu Jin (고유진), age 17. She’s from Blockberry Creative, and the Orbits out there are now resisting the urge to smash their device screen at the mere mention of that agency! [Side note: Sensitive is a great song even if Loosemble is a terrible group name. Check out the song, forgive the name.] She’s in a cute striped shirt and interviews that her role models are Taeyon and HyunA, and you know, same.

The girls in the retro polka dot dresses are from How Entertainment.

Yu Min Young (유민영) is 18, in the mint green. Kim Min Seo (김민서) is 15, in the yellow and is a Jeon Somi fan, as are we all. Wang Ke (왕크어) is 17, Chinese, and in the red.

The next group, in white tops and black booty shorts, is from MND17 Agency.

Left to right, they are:

Park Chan Ju (박찬주), unknown age. She has the tightest shirt.

Park Min Ji (박민지), age 19, was also on Produce 101 and now (2023) is in Secret Number. She has the floofiest shirt and says she likes ChungHa, which, I mean, don’t we all, but also it’s kind of funny since she was on Produce101 with her so they probably kind of know each other.

Lee Chae Jeong (이채정), age 18, who now (2023) is in a group called Alice (formerly known as Elris).

Another girl comes out in a big yellow shirt with purple… shorts? A skirt? Unclear. She is from an agency called A -team and is named Kim Cho Yeon (김초연), age 16. After this show she was in Bugaboo, a group that has since disbanded but certainly has its adherents. She also likes Chung-Ha, so much so that she also wants to be in fourth place just like her. Also, MNET hates her. HATES HER SOOOOO MUCH.

Next out is someone from MNH Entertainment, the horrible agency that utterly mismanaged poor beautiful Chung-Ha for years. (Sihyeon, who must be practicing for later, says in Japanese that she loves Chung-Ha.)

The MNH trainee is little Lee Ha Eun (이하은), who, at 13, is the youngest on the show. She’s adorable, the way a little kid is adorable, and in a meeting with Chung-Ha herself, we see that little Haeun obviously almost worships Chung-Ha. Chug-Ha tells her to be herself and people will love her. Will this prove accurate? You’ll have to keep watching to find out! As Haeun seats herself amongst all her pretty unnies, she interviews, “This place is very pressuring.” I can’t imagine being in 8th grade and on a show like this. I don’t know how I made it to and from school every day when I was in 8th grade. I don’t know how I continued to like, breathe oxygen and use it in a redox reaction in my body without screwing that up and exploding.

Side note to my loves in middle school who may be reading this: First of all, how dare you, this is for grownups, and secondly, go ahead and read anyway. Matt Groening, creator of the Simpsons, famously said “Middle school is the deepest pit in hell” and yeah, it is. So, please know that I love you. You can do this. It’s going to be rough, can’t lie, but it does keep getting a bit better. Please don’t let these years matter all that much to you. Don’t let it scar you. You’ll get through this by just trying to have as much fun as you can and not caring about crushes and whether or not they have a crush on you, or whether other kids are being nice or mean or whatever dumb middle school shit they’re pulling on you. It doesn’t matter. Just enjoy life and be as happy as possible. Once you get older, you get to decide on the kind of adult you want to be, and if you want to surround yourself with Squishmallows and watch kpop videos with all your free time, you can. Or whatever makes you happy. Hold on. You got this. Now, back to the recap.

Yena chats a lot with her friend Sihyeon, and the editors keep showing them. Yena’s charismatic and it’s fun to get her perspective. They’re sitting in those big chairs that are kind of far apart, so she has to lean way over to do it. They are talking about how they’re excited to collaborate with the Japanese girls, and that they’re excited. Yiren grins widely as she says she want to make friends with the Japanese girls. I’ve already seen more charm and cuteness out of Yiren than I have in any given Everglow video. She’s really engaging in real life -- wish we got to see a bit more of that during her performances.

Kim Dayeon is sharing what she knows about Japanese language with her teammates, but her pronunciation is a little sus.

Stone Music is up next. The four girls come out nervously, and the other girls in the audience think they look familiar.

Left to right, they are:

Jang Gyu Ri (장규리), age 20, in pink.

Jo Yu Ri (조유리), age 16, in yellow.

Lee Si An (이시안), age 19, in purple.

Bae Eun Yeong (배은영), age 21, in mint green.

All four had already appeared on a different MNET reality competition show called Idol School, which had aired the year before this show aired. What’s interesting is that Gyuri actually *won* that show and debuted as a member of its winning group, fromis_9. A lot of famous folk were on Idol School, including a personal favorite of mine, Natty (who has since debuted in the absolutely phenomenal group Kiss of Life). I’m starting to think I should go back and watch Idol School! Anyway, that’s for another day.

Next out is Cube -- everyone is very excited since Cube is a larger agency. Han Cho Won (한초원), a tall mature looking 15-year-old in a hoodie and red pants, comes out to the strains of (then) Cube artist HyunA’s “Lip and Hip.” She squints at the audience, trying to decide where to sit, and while she does that, I’ll tell you that now (2023), Chowon is in a group called Lightsum. The other girls think she’s cool and swaggy, but to me she just looks a little confused. Maybe she has bad distance vision.

Next out is FNC, home of N.Flying and AOA. (If you watched Queendom Puzzle, you might remember Chanmi/DoHwa, who used to be in AOA.) We meet Cho Ah Yeong (조아영), age 16, wearing black, and Park Hae Yoon (박해윤), age 22, wearing white. HaeYoon has since debuted as a member of Cherry Bullet. Everyone seems to be very intimidated that they’re from FNC, but me, an intellectual in the year 2023, is thinking, yeah, but no. As far as I’m concerned, FNC stands for “FuckiNg over Cherry bullet” and if you’re like, but BPR-Unnie, that doesn’t really work as an acronym, I respond, EXACTLY. Nothing about FNC works.

People are excited to meet the Starship trainees, and MNET definitely wants all of us to be excited too. And I mean. Yeah. Here they come:

Left to right: Yujin, Kahyeon, Wonyoung

An Yu Jin (안유진), age 14, in the sleeveless shirt. She had previously been in music videos and commercials.

Jang Won Young (장원영), age 13, the tallest one, in the pants

Cho Ka Hyeon (조가현), age 14, in the collared shirt and skirt

Nothing against Kahyeon, who is a lovely and talented girl, but it’s hard not to focus on the one-two punch of Yujin and Wonyoung, future stars of IVE. It’s entirely possible you’re reading this recap just because you’re fans of one or other of them. I’ll say that I’m more of a Yujin girl than a Wonyoung girl, but I like them both. True to form, they’re boisterous, showing off their smattering of Japanese knowledge, and flirting with the camera. They take turns sitting in the number one seat briefly, and then choose other seats.

The trainees are talking about how pretty everyone is, much prettier than in Season 1, and I disagree with that part, but yeah of course they’re all pretty. Yoon Eun Bin laments that she’s “the only ugly one.” Aww, baby! And of course, we keep checking in with Yena, our unofficial narrator of this episode, as she jokes non-stop with her friend Sihyeon. It kind of reminds me of how in Broduce 101 we hung out with Kang Daniel and Yoon Ji-sung for most of episode 1.

Out next is Pledis:

Who could these tall, beautiful girls be?

Huh Yun Jin (허윤진), 16, with her hair up in a ponytail, is about 5’8. Her family name 허 is sometimes transliterated “Huh” and sometimes “Heo”. Korean vowels are hard, ya’ll.

Lee Ga Eun (이가은), 23, with her shorter hair down to just her shoulders, is about 5’7. Her name is also sometimes transliterated as Kaeun.

The others girls recognize Gaeun as a former member of After School, an idol group known for their sexy concepts. (In the performance I linked to, Gaeun is the one with her hair in two braided pigtails -- she starts off on the pole on the far left. We actually see a brief clip of that performance on this episode at about 20:58.) The girls are abuzz to see Gaeun back in the idol sphere after a few years’ hiatus. That hiatus was just due to Pledis’s mismanagement. Shock! Horror! Who would have thought that PLEDIS of all companies would screw over a talented idol group? Surely, neither of THESE girls will get screwed over on this very show?

Anyway, back to 2018. You’re going to have to accept that fact that I love both of these girls a lot, but I doubt that will be a problem, because I think you’re going to love them too. Most people do -- more about that much later! Yunjin is one of the reasons that I’m rewatching this show -- I loved her the whole time I watched it the first time, as I said earlier, and I was so incredibly happy when she debuted in Le Sserafim.

The two Pledis girls sit down and we have a brief “coming up!” montage. When we come back, we can see that more girls have come in unobserved by us, the viewers, which is fine. Finally, strains of Heavy Rotation by AKB48 begin playing (“I want youuuuuuu… I need youuuuuuu…”), and the Korean girls are excited to meet the AKB girls!

First, we learn a little bit about the franchise -- it’s like, what if a female NCT, or a TripleS, but with literally 600 members, and they’re all wearing outfits that make them look like they are members of the Piñata Marine Corps. Also, most of them can’t really sing and their choreography is mostly step-touch wiggle-wiggle.

Bless their hearts.

There is, obviously, talent amongst them, as we will see. It’s just that talent is not really a *requirement* for being in the group. Girls in the AKB48 franchise are expected to be cute and cheery on stage, to approximate some form of “singing” like noises, and to learn and do choreography so easy even I could probably do it, and I’m about as coordinated as a newborn deer. Plenty of them are capable of more, and I take my hat off to those who pushed themselves to come on this show and face this challenge. They’re in for a lot, and I respect them.

I also want to say that the biggest issue I have with the AKB48 franchise is that their fanbase is almost exclusively men in their 40s who think that 19 or 20 is over the hill. It’s like, soft-core kitty-corn and I know you know what I mean. I guess a similar allegation could be made about Produce101 in general. I don’t want to linger on this for too long because these girls just want to be entertainers and to bring some fun and excitement into their lives, and it’s not their fault that middle-aged men ruin everything. But I have to acknowledge it. I could post some really disturbing pictures here of AKB48 girls in outfits that read *really, really young* but also are obviously meant to be sexy, but I really don’t want to, in part because it might make the FBI knock on my door. Similarly, I don’t want to link to it here but I’m amazed there wasn’t a public outcry about the video for Heavy Rotation. They’re all in lingerie and rolling around together and kissing each other and bathing in a bathtub together while feeding each other cherries and whipped cream. Like, it’s not subtle. Meanwhile the song itself sounds like something from a Kidz Bop album. The juxtaposition between the cutesy childish tone and the obviously sexy, almost pornographic images is really… disturbing, there’s just no other word for it. Add in the fact that Japan might be the only developed country that’s worse than the USA in terms of how it treats and cares for women, and you’ve got a pressure cooker of ick. Poor girls. I hope they’re all safe and well -- in 2018, in 2023, and beyond.

And here they come, all 19 of the AKB48 girls, in red and black plaid outfits. This specific group is from Tokyo. (Each of the -48 groups is based in a different city.) We’ll meet these girls a bit later when they perform in smaller groups.

We see that one of them, 24-year-old Miyazaki Miho, can even write in Korean a little! Good for her. Takahashi Juri -- 20-year-old future member of Rocket Punch and visitor to Queendom Puzzle -- interviews in Japanese, “I think that the popular idol singers in Korea are really the best artists in the world.” Goto Moe, 17, says that Kpop idols are true musicians. Muto Tomu, a 23 year old palindrome, says she wants to learn from the Korean idols. She and Juri want to be the best in the world. Yes! I love the ambition.

But where will they sit?

Juri, in an outfit that would make Nina Garcia weep if she had tear ducts, is tempted by the number one seat. As she should be. We love Juri in this household. But the girls’ competitiveness gives way to their friendliness, and soon all the girls, Korean and Japanese alike, are giggling and waving and making heart signs to each other. AND THAT IS WHAT I’M HERE TO WATCH, by the way. I love this shit. Friendship is the best ship.

Juri introduces herself to MND17’s ChaeJeong in careful Korean, and ChaeJeong responds in equally careful Japanese. Everyone is using the few words they know, combined with sign language and body language, to try to bridge the communication gap. They exchange hellos and names and try to figure out who’s older. The Japanese girls think the Korean system of adding a year to your age is kind of odd, but that’s how culture do.

Next out are the girls from NMB48 - the Osaka team -- in blue outfits. Then the two SKE48 girls, from Nagoya come out, in different blue outfits. One of these two is Matsui Jurina, who is only 21 but somehow looks a bit older to me.

Asai Yuka on the left, Jurina on the right.

A lot of the girls recognize Jurina; per Wikipedia, “She is recognized as SKE48's absolute "ace", having placed in the top 10 in many of AKB48's annual general elections and winning the 2018 election.” Apparently she was in AKB48 for a while, and then chose to go back to SKE48, either for altruistic reasons (to support the smaller subunit’s success) or for her own reasons (to go back to her home city, perhaps).

You’ll be hearing more about “elections”, so let me talk about that. In the -48 system, fans who have bought a copy of a 48 album are given the right to vote for the member they like best -- the general election. In other words, it’s a popularity contest, and only fans willing to spend money are allowed to vote. (There’s a story about a fan who spent $300,000 on CDs to vote for his favorite girl!) If Jurina has won so many elections, she is/was undoubtedly quite loved by her fan base. I approve of the fact that this woman, who looks like a woman and not a little kid, is/was so loved.

Side note here, and it’s a real, real, real side note, so I'm putting it in a different color so you can skip past it if you want, but the story of the man who spent $300,000 to vote for his favorite member of AKB48 reminds me a bit of the story of Grant Amato. Let me explain. Grant Amato was in his late 20s when his life hit the skids for various reasons and he began spending a ton of time in a cam girl chat room. He began “tipping” her absurd amounts of money, convinced that this was creating a genuine bond between himself and her. He began stealing from anyone who left their credit cards in his vicinity, especially his parents, from whom he stole $200,000 or more. The family tried to put him in rehab, and told him he couldn’t talk to his “girlfriend” any more -- so he killed them, in part to remove the obstacle, and in part to get their money. Looking into this story more, I learned more about the psychology of tipping cam girls, and it seems really similar to the parasocial relationship between -48 girls and their fans. No other men in the girls’ lives; the illusion of sexy, available youth; the man feeling like a protector or guardian of the girl he's never met and never will meet…. This extremely NSFW guide to cam-girling has a lot of nuggets of wisdom, especially this: “A man wants to feel attention from an attractive women on him, and this is made even more satisfying when it’s to the exclusion of those around him. He is showing off his power by buying your happiness.” I know that Grant Amato is an extreme example when it comes to him literally murdering three family members, but other people -- nearly always men -- spend that much money on cam girls and on AKB girls and on other stand-ins for real love. I don’t have some big point to make here. Just that it doesn’t seem particularly healthy to me.

Pigtailed Sato Minami, age 14 and a member of Tokyo based AKB48, interviews that everyone in Japan knows Jurina. 17-year old Nakano Ikumi says she joined AKB48 because she idolizes her, and 14-year old Asai Yuka, the other SKE48 member in Produce48, says that they all admire her.

They aren’t sure where to sit, as now only lower-ranked chairs are available, which is so silly since it doesn’t actually matter at all what chair you sit on today, but that’s the show for you. Jurina, befuddled, says “ehhhh?” which is sort of like “what” and sort of like “otoke?” It’s so characteristically Japanese that some of the Korean girls think it’s cute. Plus, they’re all eager to make friends.

Jurina smiles with cute, puppy eyes, and then for a moment, a bit of avarice flashes over her face, and the xenophobic MNET editors make sure to zoom in on her, while letting one of the other girls give her a defining caption:

Bombastic opera music plays -- will she take the seat? She has been ranked number one enough times in her other life that it seems kind of fitting. But no. She ends up sitting down in a normal chair, interviewing that she didn’t have the courage. I don’t remember who sat in the number one seat and am starting to think it might just be whoever walks in last at this point.

I feel like I could write a whole sociological paper about the difference between girl seasons of this show and boy seasons of this show and their approach to the Number One Chair. Girls eye it but don’t like to sit on it because it marks them as greedy and makes them unpopular. Boys fight over it, either physically with arm wrestling or via skill displays, like rutting caribou. It’s really interesting.

Interlude! They’re all hungry. Juri shows off more of her Korean skills. The other girls at least know how to say the names of food and are building friendship off of a shared love of eating. Hey, that’s how you make friends with a cat or dog so it works for me. Food!

Here’s the RBW girls, who you might recognize:

Na Go Eun (나고은), in the “Respect” shirt, age 18. She is now a main vocalist of PurpleKiss.

Park Ji Eun (박지은), in the red striped shirt, age 20. She debuted in PurpleKiss but left due to an anxiety condition. Aww! Poor sweetie. Hope she’s doing ok these days.

The girls are excited for Banana Culture, partly because they’re hungry and want to eat bananas, and partly because it’s home to EXID, a group I’ve always liked too.

Out come the two Banana Culture girls, who sit down immediately:

Kim Da Hye (김다혜), on the left with black accents, who I think is 16 (but reports vary).

Kim Na Young(김나영), 15, on the right with red accents, who you may now recognize as a member of Lightsum.

Next is Woolim, and the other trainees are impressed. They should be! Check out these four:

I know this screen shot is terrible, but I’m doing my best, folks.

Left to right, that’s:

Kim So Hee (김소희), 14, who is now in Rocket Punch.

Kim Chae Won (김채원), 17, who is now in Le Sserafim.

Kwon Eun Bi (권은비), 22, who is now a soloist.

Kim Su Yun (김수윤),17, who is now also in Rocket Punch, and who you may also recognize from going on Queendom puzzle. She’s 5’7, if you’re wondering.

I’m so excited to see Sohee and Suyun meet Juri! And for Chaewon and THE SAKURA™ and Yunjin to all meet each other! This is going to be so cute.

And here’s WM Entertainment:

Left to right, that’s:

Cho Yeong In (조영인), age 16.

Lee Chae Yeon (이채연), age 18. Before this she was on Sixteen, the show that created Twice, and after this she will, among other things, make a brief appearance on Queendom Puzzle. She’s also the older sister of Itzy’s Chaeryeong, and they have a strong family resemblance. Everyone is pretty impressed by her, and I’m sure she’s glad about that.

Lee Seung Hyeon (이승현), age 17. Ok, if you watched Queendom Puzzle, I dare you to try to recognize Seung Hyeon. Do you know who she is? Picture her with chin length hair. Hold your finger up to the screen and really try. Ok, give up?

That’s Riina from H1-Key! I would have never guessed. I wonder if Chaeyeon recognized her on Queendom Puzzle? I wonder if she voted her up or down? Chaeyeon does seem to sort of do her own thing. Love how the show never mentioned that they knew each other.

It’s time for the Fukuoka-based HKT48 girls to enter, and their black logo prompts Million Market’s Son Eun Chae (손은채), 18, future member of Bugaboo, to comment to her label mate Cho Sa Rang (조사랑), 14, that black is her favorite color. Sarang replies, “Our faces must look black by now,” cracking Eunchae up. Aw, I like them.

The other Japanese girls are excited, because they know that soon they will be seeing…. THE SAKURA™. Her name means cherry blossom, and she wants cherry blossoms to blossom in your cherry. I mean heart. Whatever.

It’s always so odd to me the way that certain girls are picked out as stunningly beautiful, when to me they’re all pretty. It feels so random. Why is THE SAKURA™specifically the most beautiful? It’s like in Red Velvet. I think Seulgi and Wendy are every bit as pretty as Irene, maybe prettier. But what do I know? Also, I probably ranted about this exact same thing in one of my BP recaps. Anyway, Jo Yuri tells her labelmate Sian, “I made eye contact with Sakura and I almost fainted.” Ok, Jo Yuri is growing on me.

Everyone thinks everyone else is pretty, and cool, and cute, and intimidating. We check in again with Sarang and Eunchae, who seem to be having a fun time.

Who will be last to walk in? YG’s logo pops up on screen, shocking everyone, including our polka dotted friends from HOW Entertainment, one of whom is in the process of administering eye drops to another one when the logo pops up. YG? WUT? But no -- these are *former* YG trainees. Now, they’re here as “kaein yeonshipsaeng” -- individual trainees. Trainer-less trainees. Just… -ees. They walk out to strains of “I am the Best” by 2NE1, a song whose video I still watch whenever I need a pick-me-up.

Park Jinny (박진희), 20, with dark hair, now a member of Secret Number.

Park Seo Young (박서영), 19, with light hair.

We cut back to an interview that must have taken place some time before taping began, when Seoyeong had brown hair. We find out that Seoyeoung was in the famous “Future 2NE1” video and both of them traineed with Blackpink. They’re here to make you wonder why YG let them go.

There are only two chairs left -- the #1 seat and the #96 seat. The now-blonde Seoyeong plunks down on the number one seat and everyone applauds. When I watched it the first time, I thought even at the time that there wasn’t much chance of her making it after that. You just can’t sit in that seat and make it in to the final lineup. I’m with Yunjin, who says, “If that was the only seat left, I’d sit on the floor.” Yep.

35:10 Somi and Daniel

Two figures emerge and the girls go nuts as they recognize everyone’s favorites, Jeon Somi (ranked #1 on PD101 Season 1) and Kang Daniel (ranked #1 on PD101 Season 2). I’m happy to see them, though I’ll note that they’re both capable of looking a lot better than they do here. I’ll blame their hair -- they were both born to be honey blondes, even if it wasn’t in their DNA.

Must be kind of weird for Chaeyeong to see Somi again after they both competed on Sixteen together. But there are always all those ties amongst idols and trainees.

Somi and Daniel talk about how only viewer votes will matter here. They don’t know that this is a lie, of course. Vote rigging was absolutely a thing on all four seasons of PD101. But we’ll talk about that later.

The reality sets in for the trainees -- they’re really on PD101! Or PD48, whatever you want to call it. S&D talk about how only the top producers will work with them, how they’ll debut in Korea and Japan at the same time -- this will be big. They talk about the specific producers, who have worked with some top groups, but the names of the producers don’t ring bells for me and likely won’t for you, either: Han Sung Soo, who writes kpop hits, and Akimoto Yasushi, the creepy old dude who created AKB48 and writes their most misogynistic lyrics. Great. I am just going to call him “Gross Guy” from now on.

The girls find out that 12 of them will debut in the final lineup, which is great news, because now it’s a 1 in 8 chance of getting in. (Well, it’s a 100% chance for those whose agencies paid enough money!) Why couldn’t Kep1er and ZB1 have had 12 members? Then Park Hanbin would have been in ZB1 and I’m not sure who else would have been in Kep1er but I know it would have been great. Maybe Fu Yaning, who I will always love and hear no words against.

Anyway.

Say goodbye to Somi and Daniel because we don't see them again after this. It's time for the judges to come out! And that's what we'll pick up with next time, when we recap the first ten auditions!

#produce 48 #IZ*one #Jeon Somi #Kang Daniel #Lee Chaeyeong #Le Sserafim #IVE #BPR recaps P48 #Sakura #akb48 #rocket punch

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dahyun · 1 year

Note

hope im not overstepping, but i think you'd enjoy un normal by queenz eye!

dw ur not overstepping in the slightest lol i love getting recommendations!!!

anyways ur right, i love it! in fact a couple days ago i saw them perform it on a music show. i'll have 2 look more in to this group now!!

#ask #anonymous

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doebot · 5 years

Text

hm. what if i just come out as non-binary to everybody despite The Consequences

#look im so tired and i know most of my friends wont get it but like #i guess i gotta try #idk ive known about this thing aince i learned what it was #and ive only told like. 4 ppl maybe total #granted some of my pals follow this tumby so its possible they know #in which case hey queenz #ya boy is exhausted #idk i just gotta find a way/ time to spill tha beanz #im thinking in all the group chats im in ill just say hey bitches im nonbinary google it up #and leave it at that #://///// hmb #anyways thats that i guess lol #m #also theres like a 90% id get broken up with but like tbh thats ok #im not really cut out for dating anyway :/#KIKI IF UR READING THIS UHHHHHHBHB

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

Day Five: Pumpkin Spice

Marinette Dupain Cheng was stressed. Not only was she behind on her commission for her Uncle Jagged, but she was also supposed to be meeting her boyfriend’s family for the first time. Ever. And for some god awful reason, they seemed to be early people. Or, she assumed they were, as they had invited her for breakfast instead of dinner. And she obviously didn’t get enough sleep last night, which meant she overslept this morning. Which meant she didn’t have time to make coffee before someone was knocking on her door. ‘Must be Tim,’ she thinks idly, yelling that it’s open and to come in as she finishes her makeup in the bathroom (completely forgetting that this is Gotham and she should really be more careful about that).

“Er, I don’t think it’s a good idea to just say come in if you haven’t checked to see who’s at the door.” An unfamiliar voice says from the living room. She screeches and slams the bathroom door shut, locking herself in.

“Marinette! What’re you going to do?” Tikki asks quietly.

“I don’t know! All I have in here is a straightener and a curling wand. I can’t exactly ask whoever that is to wait to attack me until my weapons have heated up!” She hisses under her breath.

“Uh, Mari? Can I call you Mari, that’s what Timmy calls you. Anyway, I promise I’m not gonna hurt you or anything. I’m Dick Grayson, Tim’s oldest brother? He overslept so I volunteered to pick you up for breakfast.” Tim’s alleged brother says and she frowns. Sure, she wanted to trust the guy and she didn’t really wanna make a bad first impression, but he was also a strange man in her apartment.

“If you can tell me something that only Tim would know, I’ll come out of the bathroom.” She finally says, barely hearing the sigh on the other side of the door.

“Please, Mari, I honestly don’t know what to tell you. Tim has mentioned that you guys met at a coffee shop, so I brought you a coffee-”

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much, you’re my favorite!” Marinette cheers, opening the bathroom door immediately. Dick blinks at her, frowning.

“You know, it’s a really good thing I actually am Tim’s brother. You have no sense of self preservation.” He says with a frown. Marinette shrugs, looking him over and noticing he wasn’t holding a coffee.

“Was the coffee a decoy?” She asks with a pout. Dick snorts and shakes his head.

“No, it’s actually in the car.” He says. She hums happily and grabs her purse, double checking Tikki was in it (she was, and she was glaring at her with a ‘we are so talking about this later’ look).

“Ready!” She chirps, smiling widely at him. He just shakes his head and leads her down to the car. As she gets into the car, she finally thinks about texting Tim. Duh. She should’ve done that to start. Sighing at her carelessness, she quickly shoots him a text, but doesn’t wait for a response before she gets in the car. Afterall, Dick had coffee. She hums happily as he passes her the warm cup, before frowning slightly at the smell.

“I wasn’t sure how you take it, so I just got you my fall favorite.” Dick explains, and she nods, still cautious. She inhales deeply and though the scent of the warm spices isn’t unpleasant, she’s confused why it’s coming from the coffee.

“What exactly is it?” She asks.

“Pumpkin spice latte.” Dick says, and she smiles, but sighs internally. Of course Gotham would have something so odd. Although not life threatening, her allergy to pumpkins would be a major pain if she ingested any pumpkin. As Dick drives, she turns and watches the city go by, occasionally pulling the cup up to pretend like she’s taking drinks. She didn’t want to be rude, after all. She’d just find a way to get rid of it later. And slip a couple dollars to Dick when he wasn’t paying attention. He did buy the coffee. Marinette frowns as the houses start getting farther and farther apart. Where was he taking her? Her jaw drops as the car pulls up in front of a huge building surrounded by an iron fence. Why- was this where Tim lived?

“Are you really Tim’s brother or did you take me to some weird Gotham castle to murder me.” She blurts out, eyes widening at the words she (definitely) did not mean to say. Dick snorts, shaking his head.

“No murders from me, kid. I’m a police officer.” He says, and she lets out a small sigh before nodding.

“Oh, okay, good.” She says, willing her hands to not shake nervously as they walk up to the door. Before Dick can open the door, it’s flung open and Tim is standing there and all of her nerves wash away. She rushes into his arms and sighs happily, barely noticing as Dick just grins and walks past the two of them, announcing their arrival to the rest of the house.

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly. She furrows her eyebrows, but nods, giving him a questioning look. He nods to the cup in her hand. “It’s full.” He says, and she blushes.

“Your brother got it for me, but I’m allergic to pumpkin.” She whispers back. He laughs. An honest to Kwami, loud, obnoxious laugh. She steps back and glares at him, not seeing the humor in this situation.

“Mars, have you never had a pumpkin spice latte?” He asks and she scoffs.

“Obviously I haven’t, Timothy. Maman and Papa don’t even sell pumpkin pastries in the bakery.” She sighs out, remembering the incident where they’d discovered what happened when she eats pumpkin. It was not an experience she wanted to relive.

“Pumpkin spice lattes don’t have pumpkin.” Tim says with a soft smile. Marinette blinks.

“Then why are they called pumpkin spice?” She asks, bewildered. Tim shrugs.

“The world may never know.”

Tag list: @maribat-october-rarepairs @stainedglassm @kittenmywaythrulife @laydeekrayzee @doll246 @queenz-z @deathssilentapproach-blog @literaryhiraeth @unoriginalmess

#timari #timinette #maribat dick grayson #maribat #maribat fic #one shot #maribat tim drake #maribat marinette dupain cheng #MaribatHalloween21

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ms-starflower · 3 years

Text

Young Survivors – Part 3 – Maribat

Hey, Hi! Long time no see, uh. So sorry, but life kinda got in the way, (I was helping a friend organise her wedding, then I helped her move apartment across the country). I really didn’t have time (or was in the mood) for writing or tumblr/socialising, or anything besides reading, really. It happens to me, sometimes. And I can’t say it won’t happen again, so you are warned. But, now that things settled, and with the holiday coming up, it shouldn’t happen in the near future, at least!

Anyway.

Chapter 3! The first part (Marinette first pov) had been written for months and the rest had been literally written in the past three hours. I couldn’t sleep, and I was feeling inspired! Lucky!

I played a little bit with the povs in this chapter, and it was kind of fun, ngl. I will probably do it again in the future! Susan and Beth kinda snuck up on me, too, they weren’t supposed to have this much screen time, lol.

No reunion or meeting with the batfam in this chapter but, if everything goes as planned, it should happen in the next chapter! (no guarantee here, tho)

Hope you like it and have fun!

(also, the ‘V’ of my keyboard is broken, so sometimes it doesn't work. I think I got them all, but just in case; sorry about it!)

Taglist:

@frieddonutsweets @queenz-z @emistar0 @jayjayspixiepop @imarivers8 @waffleyunsure @bigpicklebananatree @kking13 @redbullgivescaswings @ritacrow-blog @marvel--unsolved @redgemsposts @alexizlazy @toodaloo-kangaroo @gajer-1226 @adrestar @noisydeputyturkeybear

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Looking around the hotel’s lobby with a frown, Marinette tried to locate Mlle Petit or one of her classmates. She looked at the time on her phone again, but no, she wasn’t late. The class was supposed to meet in the lobby at 8, and it was still 7:56.

She did sleep through her alarm, but nothing that skipping breakfast shouldn’t have fixed. Playing with one of her earrings, Marinette started to walk toward the cafeteria, maybe they were all still there. There was no way Mlle Petit or Mr Marchand, their history teacher and second chaperone, left her behind. Right? (But what if…)

No. They were probably all still eating, they weren’t supposed to meet up for… 3 minutes still.

She felt her mouth dry when she entered the hotel’s dining room and didn’t recognize anyone in there. Panic overwhelmed her, and she didn’t realize she was shaking until she felt Tikki nudge her from her purse.

Walking back to the lobby, she got in line to talk with the receptionist, hoping they would have answers for her.

While she waited she looked through her phone to see if, maybe, she overlooked a message from her teachers. Maybe the location or time of the meeting had been changed.

Her phone plan didn’t include the USA, but Mlle Petit made it mandatory to install WhatsApp for everyone, and she was still connected to the hotel’s free wifi and should have received any messages. But the class’ group chat was completely silent. Very suspiciously silent.

Like nobody had used it since they got here. Her grip on her phone tightened as doubts started to grow in her mind. (She was going to kill Lila and all the sheep she calls classmates before the end of this god forsaken trip.)

“Marinette?” A slightly familiar voice called from behind her, making her turn to face the newcomer. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, hello Miss Tracy,” she said with a smile when she recognized yesterday’s receptionist. The poor woman had been the one on shift when Marinette’s class arrived, and they had talked a bit while the teachers got the rest of her classmates under control. She wasn’t in her work clothes anymore, she probably just finished her shift. “I can’t find my class anywhere, so I thought I would ask the reception if they saw them. Or if they can call in Mlle Petit’s room.”

“You…” Tracy started, blinking at the young girl before her. “What do you mean, you can’t— Marinette… I was on shift when your class left. Almost an hour ago.”

Marinette startled, lips parted slightly in shock. She had suspected that something like that had happened, but getting it confirmed was still… somewhat shocking.

“Do you have your teacher’s number? Maybe you can call her to let her know? She might come back to get you or send someone?”

“I… I can’t make calls with…” she whispered slowly, eyes wide and stinging with unshed tears, and waving her phone limply. (She didn’t know why she wanted to cry. She was used to being left behind. Being back in Gotham was getting to her.)

Mlle Petit told them she didn’t have internet data, so she wouldn’t be reachable with WhatsApp out of the motel or other free wifi zones.

“Don’t you worry, come on,” Tracy said, trying to sound reassuring, she grabbed her by her arm and took her toward a door labeled “employee only”. “I’m sure Mrs. D. will let you use the phone in her office.”

“Oh, euh, I don’t want to be a bother! You were leaving weren’t you? You should…”

“Nonsense!” She waved at her, walking into what looked like a changing room. “Wait here, I’m gonna explain everything to Mrs. D.”

She disappeared quickly through another door in the back of the room, leaving Marinette with a couple of women that were getting ready to work.

Smiling shyly at them, she grabbed her arms with the opposite hands in a sorta-hug and waited for Tracy and whoever Mrs. D. was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Susan loved her job. Like, really, loved her job. Wayne Enterprises was the best place to work in all of Gotham; in terms of work conditions, salary, and whatever you could think of, they were the best.

And, alright, working at the front desk was a tough job, what with the regular attacks attempted here —from Rogues and petty criminals alike— but the security measures were top notch. And, hey, that was what her risk premium was for, right?

But, truth be told, Susan would gladly welcome whatever braindead that regularly attacks the lobby if that meant saving her from those whiny kids.

She wasn’t fluent in French, but she did take it as an option in college. She was young and stupid, and had been charmed by the language during a summer road trip in the Côte d’Azur. She quickly fell out of love for that demonic language when she had to pull all nighter to try and start to make sense of the conjugation. (If someone tried to explain to her the difference between imparfait and plus-que-parfait one more time in hundreds of years, it would be too soon.)

The phone rang and she almost jumped to get it faster, hoping to be distracted from the Lila girl whining about her weak knees —or elbows? Susan French was rusty— and the not-so-subtle glare some of her friends sent Susan’s way.

“Hello, Wayne Enterprises here, thank you for calling. Susan on the line, how may I help you?”

“Um, Hi Mlle Susan,” a young female voice started, and Susan sighed silently when she heard the, admittedly very slight, French accent, already knowing where this was going. “I’m calling about the French class supposed to start a tour here in fifty minutes?”

“Alright, listen kid,” Susan started, wincing at how unprofessional she sounded but unwilling to back down. She loved her job, and she loved to do it right, but, by god, those kids were so annoying. It was already the third time they tried to pull something like that. “I told your teacher already, and the two kids who called before you, there is no way to start the tour before the meeting time that was agreed upon during the organization. People are not at your disposal, and this Lila girl's weak elbows or whatever are not going to change anything about it. Even if you try to impersonate another doctor or the French president himself.”

“Ah… I’m.. Um, I’m sorry to hear that Lila is making a scene again but, euh, I’m not calling for that?” The girl said slowly, and Susan blinked.

“You’re not?”

“Ah, no. I tried to contact Mlle Petit but she is not picking her phone and I thought that maybe, if they got to Wayne Tower already I could try to call there?”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I thought… Anyway, I can’t pass her the phone but I can tell her to look at hers?” Susan said and, feeling guilty for snapping so unprofessionally at her, added. “Or I could give her a message?”

“Please, if it’s not a bother, could you tell her that she forgot a student at the hotel?” The young girl said it so softly, it took a second for the words to sink into Susan’s brain.

“I’m sorry, could you say that again?” She blurted, disbelief obvious in her tone.

“I… Um, I didn’t know the time to meet changed and I woke up late so… I’m sorry, they probably didn’t notice I wasn’t here so…”

“Ok, alright… You know what, why don’t you wait a minute while I call for Miss Petit?”

“Oh, didn’t you say that you can’t…”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure my superior will understand the situation,” she said with a —only slightly forced— smile, grabbing her rarely used headset and putting it on mute, she was feeling like she would need it.

“If you’re sure, that would be really helpful. Thank you very much, Mlle Susan.”

“You’re welcome, hon. Now, wait a minute, alright,” she said, putting the phone aside and getting up. “Miss Petit?”

The woman turned toward her faster than a shark smelling blood, starting to power-walk quickly toward her desk with a satisfied smile.

“Well, can we finally start?” She said as soon as she was within hearing distance. Susan only raised one eyebrow slightly.

“Someone is on the phone for you, Miss,” she told her politely, giving it to her before putting her own headset over one of her ears.

“Allô?” Petit asked with a frown, only to widen her eyes at the answering voice. “Marinette?! I thought you were sick?”

Pulling out the list of students and teachers supposed to be at Wayne Enterprises today, Susan shamelessly eavesdropped on the ongoing conversation.

Despite her poor grasp on the language used, she understood enough to get that Marinette—and wasn’t that something, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was listed on the paperwork as the class rep. and the major contact for the organization of this tour—wasn’t, in fact, sick.

The following discussion was quick —too quick— Petit shot down Marinette as soon as she said Lila’s name, before talking quickly over the girl. When she finally said her goodbyes, Marinette was clearly holding back tears and Susan wanted nothing more than to punch in Petit’s nose. And teeth.

“Thank you for the phone,” Petit said with a polite smile. “Do you know when we are going to star—”

“Are you going to send someone back to the hotel?” Susan asked over her, curious about the lack of urgency from the teacher.

“Oh, euh, no, no. It’s too late now, isn’t it? We could start the tour any minute now,” she said with a strained smile. “Marinette is ok with staying at the hotel for today, she has things to occupy herself there.”

“Oh?” She hummed, looking pointedly toward the clock; the tour wouldn’t start before at least forty-five more minutes. Enough time to go get the girl and come back. “Well, I will let you know when your tour guide is ready, Miss.”

“Yes, thank you,” Petit said with a nod, her lips downturned, before going back to her students.

Susan watched her go with narrowed eyes, her fingers tapping on her desk. Did that woman really believe half the bullshit that come out of her mouth, or did she just hope people will be stupid enough to believe her?

Tapping her palm against her desk, she unplugged her headset and put it back in her drawer, before grabbing her phone and composing the number of her friend in HR.

“Hi Emily, I need to talk to Sofia, do you think you can patch me through? Something real weird happened down here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim was in the middle of re-reading the R&D’s half-year financial report when someone knocked on his door.

“Yes?” He called cheerfully, all too happy to abandon the semi-familiar papers —he really should stop reading reports after 86 hours without sleep and with caffeine withdrawal— and turned to look at the door.

“Mr Drake?” Sofia, his PA, asked with a frown.

Sofia was a thirty-something with two kids and a perpetual smile, she had worked with Tim for as long as he had been Wayne Enterprises’ Co-CEO, and was probably one of the reasons he didn’t crash and burn the first few months. Tim could literally count on one hand the number of times he saw her without a smile, with fingers to spare, and it had never been good.

“What happened, Sofia?” He asked more somberly, straightening in his chair.

“Today is the day of the tour for the French class, you remember?”

“Yes, of course. They should get there in… Something like an hour?” He frowned down at his watch, not sure if the tour was at nine or nine thirty. “Are you still hoping to catch the girl you talked with during lunch?”

“Well, I’m not sure if it’s going to be possible,” Sofia said, her frown deepening. “I just got a call from Susan, the front desk’s receptionist; it turned out that the class got here twenty minutes ago and wanted to start immediately, despite their tour not being for another forty minutes.”

“Did they cause trouble?”

“They’re being annoying, and anything but silent, but nothing really problematic, no. Though, Susan did get an interesting phone call not long ago.”

“Oh?” Tim leaned forward, his elbows on his desk and putting his chin on his joined hands.

“Yes, a student from the French class trying to get a hold on her teacher. To let the woman know that she forgot her at the hotel.”

Tim was so surprised he lost his equilibrium, almost face planting on his desk. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yes. And if that wasn’t enough, the teacher told her to stay there and entertain herself for the day,” Sofia’s feelings toward said teacher was made clear by her cold tone.

“She what?! Today’s tour isn’t… entertainment. It’s supposed to help the students and open them opportunities for future jobs or college’s internship! What the hell?” Tim muttered under his breath, passing a hand through his hair. “Forgetting a student at the hotel and letting her stay there? I thought Paris had his own supervillain, didn’t it teach something to that teacher? This is Gotham, for fuck’s sake! What’s the girl’s name? I’m going to send someone to bring her here.”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Sofia said with a satisfied smile, no doubt that she wanted him to do exactly that.

“Wait, hold on a minute, isn’t she…”

“The young woman who spent the last months talking with me to organize this tour, and organized the trip in general? Yes, it is,” she said with the faux-cheerful tone of someone who wanted to separate some heads from their bodies.

“Holy shit, what the hell?” Tim muttered under his breath. “Alright, can you send someone from security to pick her up? Tell them to take a company’s car. And ask Susan for the girl’s number, to let her know someone is coming. I need to talk with Bruce about that, I can’t tell if this woman is stupid or incompetent…”

“Probably both, Mr Drake,” Sofia muttered under her breath, already turning around to do what he asked. “Probably both.”

He couldn’t help but smile at that, although he wasn’t overly surprised. Sofia had all but adopted the girl after only a couple of email exchanges, and always had a fond smile when she talked about her. Tim had decided weeks ago that he was going to ambush them in the cafeteria, when the time comes.

He was curious, alright.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marinette was breathing deeply, counting to 5 in her head between every inhale, and concentrating very hard on not crying. She didn’t know why it was so difficult not to, but was starting to think that being back in Gotham was probably not helping.

She walked out of the changing room, ignoring the couple of concerned side-looks she was getting, and made her way toward the elevators. She wasn’t really surprised by Mlle Petit’s reaction to her call, the woman had been wrapped around Lila’s finger all year, and she was not the kind of teacher to accept when she made a mistake and work a way to fix it. But. Somehow, Marinette thought that she would, maybe, try to fix this.

Petit had thought she was sick. And it’s not like Marinette wouldn’t have appreciated the day off, if she had been, but the woman didn’t even check, for kwami’s sake. And when she had mentioned Lila, she had shut her down quicker than lighting. But Petit could say what she wanted, Marinette knew it was Lila; Sophie, one of Lila’s ‘best friends’ was the one who reported Marinette's supposed sickness, showing the teacher a text message she supposedly got from her.

One didn’t need to be a genius to connect the dots, Valérie.

Marinette winced at the anger in her thoughts, instinctively trying to calm down, before remembering that Hawkmoth was gone.

She was standing in front of the elevator for a couple a minute when she realized that she hadn’t called for it. With a sigh, she pushed the call button before refolding her arms around her midsection. The doors just opened when she heard Tracy call her name from behind her.

She put a hand on the doors to keep them open and turned around, looking curiously at the panting woman when she reached her.

“Holy shit,” she wheezed, rolling her eyes. “I need to work on my cardio. Anyway. Someone from W.E. called! She said they were sending someone to pick you up!”

“Really?” Marinette asked dubiously, Petit hadn’t really been keen about getting her there.

“Yeah! From what I heard when I was spying on Mrs. D’s call,” she started, surprising a laugh out of Marinette. Tracy smirked at her, looking proud of herself. “Apparently, the receptionist you talked to talked to someone higher up, and they decided to send a car themself when they learned you were gonna spend the day here, all alone.” She paused, taking a breath, before her lips curled into a devious smirk. “The woman who talked with Mrs D sounded like she wanted to tear your teach’s head off with her teeth.”

“Oh,” Marinette blinked, kind of surprised by how many adults were helping her. It was a foreign concept, especially as Marinette. “That’s… That’s kind of Miss Susan.”

“Hey,” Tracy said with a soft smile, squeezing her shoulder. “It’s okay, you can thank her when you get there. She said your escort would be here in twenty minutes max, so you can wait for them in the lobby, alright?” Marinette nodded, still thrown off balance by all their helpfulness. “Do you want me to wait with you?”

“Oh, no!” Marinette told her with a shake of her head, eyes wide, before patting her purse lightly, mindful of Tikki. “Don’t worry, really, I have some things I could work on in the meantime.”

“Alright sweetheart,” Tracy said with a smile, squeezing her shoulder again before letting go. “I’m gonna go then, see ya around.”

The woman waved with half a smile as she walked backard, Marinette responding with a grateful one, before turning around and walking out of the hotel. Marinette followed her with her eyes absently, until she disappeared in the crowd, and then her eyes landed on the café across the street.

Well, she couldn’t do much to thank the people that helped her, but she could, maybe, if they were any good, buy them a couple of pastries. Papa always said that good pasties were the best of presents.

She stopped quickly by the reception, telling them where she was if someone asked for her, and that she would be right back, and quickly took off.

She should buy one for her chauffeur, too. They probably weren’t supposed to pick up wayward teenage girls, and it was only polite.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beth parked her car in the staff’s parking area, cutting the engine before putting her forehead against the cool, steel part of her steering wheel. She had the worst hangover, ever.

And, alright, admittedly, she shouldn’t have drunk that much on a sunday night. She wasn’t twenty anymore, that was for sure. But it had been her birthday party. She should have listened to her girlfriend, though, and don’t take Mark on his stupid bet. The asshole didn’t work on monday.

Sighing morosely, she grabbed the carrier with two still hot cups of coffee from the passenger seat, and got out of the car. She thought about taking off her sunglasses, but just the memory of the sharp lights of the elevators made her wince, and she opted against it.

She was right about the lights, of course, and that made looking like an asshole wearing sunglasses inside worth it. The trip to the lobby from the underground parking was a quick one, and she walked readily toward Susan’s desk. She couldn’t help but cringe at the loud group of teenagers waiting in a corner of the hall.

She knew it was karma, some sort of cosmic punishment for not listening to her perfect, kind, beautiful, and thoughtful girlfriend when she told her to calm down on the intake. Because those kids couldn’t be anyone but the group she was supposed to tour in ten minutes.

And, looking by Susan’s amused smile, she wasn’t as discreet in her despair as she would have hoped.

“I came bearing gifts,” she said softly, internally pleading the ibuprofen in her blood to work faster, passing on the coffee with ‘Susie’ scrawled on it. Susan rolled her eyes at the nickname. “Please, oh beautiful goddess of my life, tell me they are not it.”

“Don’t call me that at work,” Susan said softly, because she was the best and was mindful of her headache, before grabbing her cup. Still, her fond tone didn’t really convince her that she was serious about it. “And they totally are. You really should have listened to me, because they are worse than whatever you’re thinking right now.”

“I had to woo you for months to earn the right to call you that, I deserve it,” she answered with a smile, walking around the desk to steal a kiss. She had been way too out of it this morning to really appreciate the one Susan gave her before leaving for work. “And there is no way they are worse than what I think.”

“Oh my god, babe, no one says ‘woo’ anymore,” she said, rolling her eyes. Beth had found that attractive since the first time she crossed paths with Susan, the way the woman would roll her eyes. “And they are, oh my god Beth, you are in for an interesting day with this bunch.”

“They are… rumbustious,” she said slowly, half-sitting on the desk beside Susan's keyboard, side-eyeing the group. Susan snorted. She snorted. At work. And that, more than anything Susan would say, was what made Beth realise how dire the situation really was. Susan was way too proud of her professionalism to snort because of a bad joke, unless she was already stressed out of her mind, and it was only ten to nine.

“I don’t think my mom really thought you would be using it, when she gave you that a-word-a-day calendar,” Susan told her with a fond smile, and Beth couldn’t help the slight blush at that. “But, yeah, they are rumbustious. And the woman calling herself a teacher is the worst of the lot.”

Both of Beth’s eyebrows raised toward her hairline at the venomous tone of her girlfriend. She was the asshole in this relationship, Susan was the sweetest person Beth had ever met, and the group couldn’t be here for more than a couple minutes. So she was really curious as to what the woman could have done to deserve Susan’s ire.

“What for? She ate a kitten for breakfast?” She joked, trying to distract Susan from the glare she was sending the teacher’s way. She took a sip of her coffee, sighing contentedly at the sugary taste, and immensely grateful that the ibuprofen was finally doing something.

“First, the woman had the gall to bring her class here an hour early and expect us to accommodate her,” Susan muttered angrily, making Beth blink in surprise, coffee forgotten again.

“Wait, what? They have been here since eight? What the fuck?”

“I know, right?” She said, turning toward her with a pout. “And then, something like twenty minute later, after two call from very young doctor, with bad english and French accent, telling me that one of the student was very ill, and that we needed to start the tour for her–”

“They didn’t,” Beth cutted in, because what.

“They totally did,” Susan told her with a roll of her eyes, distracting Beth for just a second. Her girlfriend has beautiful eyes, alright? “So, twenty minute later, another young french girl called me, and I thought; ‘oh god, here we go again’, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah. So what? Did she tell you she was the French prime minister?”

“I think it’s a man, isn’t it?” Susan said with a frown, and Beth just arched one of her eyebrows. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. So, anyway, no. She was from the class alright, but she was trying to reach her teacher–” and the word was venomously spat here, “–because the woman left her behind at the hotel.”

“No,” she breathed out, taking her sunglasses off to let Susan see how wide her eyes were. She only winced a little bit at the light, but she would have to take them off soon anyway, so she might as well make it dramatic, and get a smile from Susan out of it.

“Yes,” Susan said, nodding her head, before the fond smile on her lips turned into a vindictive smirk. And, oh my god, it was so not the time for Beth to be turned on. “But I called Emily in HR, and she got me in contact with Sofia. And Sofia sent someone to pick up the kid at her hotel.”

“Holy Batman, you called in Sofia,” she murmured with a gleeful cackle. Sofia was Mr Drake’s PA, and one of the most mom to ever mom. She mothered everyone who would cross her path and looked even a little bit sad, but she clearly had a soft spot for kids. Literally nobody had been surprised when Mr Wayne put her as the PA for his teenage son when he became the Co-CEO.

“Damn straight I did,” Susan whispered furiously, her glare finding the teach again. “The cupcake was holding on to tears after she talked to that woman, what was I supposed to do?”

“You did good babe,” She said with a fond smile, leaning to grab her lips with hers in a kiss. “What’s the name of the kid? I’m gonna keep an eye on her if you want.”

“Oh yes, please,” she started, but was interrupted by a girl walking up to her desk.

“Um, Hi, um, are you Mlle Susan?” The kid asked with a shy smile, her eyes flickering toward Beth before focusing on Susan, her voice a bizarre mix of a French accent and a Gotham accent, of all things.

“Yes, honey, it’s me. Who is asking?” Susan asked her softly, a genuine smile curling her lips, and Beth was assaulted, out of nowhere, by the thought that Susan would be a wonderful mom, and that Beth wanted that with her. To have a kid, with Susan. That wasn’t something they had really talked about, beside the fact that they both wanted to, in the future. But, now, the thought was in her mind, and it wasn’t going to leave her alone, she just knew it.

“I’m Marinette,” the kid, Marinette, said quietly, breaking Beth out of her thoughts. Susan made a noise of recognition that sounded suspiciously like a squeal, and Beth realised suddenly that she probably was the kid they were talking about. “Apparently, you are the one I have to thank for the car they sent, so… Thank you!”

The girl then put a brown bag on the counter and pushed it toward them, before quickly waving at them with a smile and turning around, making her way toward her teacher. Both Susan and her blinked at the sudden departure, before sharing a smile at the girl’s shyness. Susan grabbed the bag, looking into it and letting out another aborted squeal.

Curious, Beth tried to peek in, only for Susan to hug the bag, putting it out of her reach, with a noise of protest. She blinked at her owlishly, not understanding her reaction, before a slow smirk took over her lips. There was only one thing that would fit in this bag and make Susan react this way.

“It’s cinnamon rolls, isn’t it? Is it the little ones they sell by six?”

“It’s mine,” Susan said with a pout, her whining tone answering the question for her, one hand cradling the baked goods protectively. “It’s my thank you gift.”

“Come on, love, can’t I have a little one? I brought you coffee!” She pleaded with puppy dog eyes, hers weren’t as efficient as Susan’s, but they worked sometimes. “I’m going to have to spend a whole day with that woman, it’s going to be such a hardship…”

“Fine,” Susan sighed after staring at her with narrowed eyes for a whole minute. “But only because I love you. And today is going to suck for you, with that headache.”

“Love you too, babe,” she said with a smile, grabbing the roll before Susan could change her mind, and stealing a kiss on the way. “Wish me good luck!”

“Break a leg!” Susan told her way too cheerfully, as she made her way toward the group.

It was going to be a long day, that’s for sure.

#maribat #mlb x dc #gothamite marinette #street kid marinette #platonic jasonette #I need to decide for the ship quick #Its gonna be timari or roynette #but i can't choose #maribat tropes #lila rossi salt maribat

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m0etenchandon · 5 years

Text

Roger´s POV of Jealous (SMUT)

Summary: Roger´s POV of Jealous Warnings: SMUT (18+), angst, masturbation A/N: This is really short, but you guys wanted it so here it is! Roger and John are roommates in this setting. Thanks for reading! Word count: 1.4 K

Masterlist

Read Jealous first!

Roger was fuming as he drove over to the restaurant. Who did John think he was? Making a move on his ex-girl? That was out of order. Sure, he was the one to break up with you, but he hadn´t really realized his feelings for you until it was too late. He wasn´t even sure if he actually wanted to be with you. Okay, he did. But you were a bad match. You would always fight. The make-up sex was good though, perhaps that´s what he missed the most. Your body.

John wouldn´t sleep with you, would he? Roger shook the thought out of his head as he pulled up outside.

The date was fine, at least as long as it lasted. The girl had made up some stupid excuse to leave, claiming she had to go home and feed her cat. Roger knew for a fact she didn´t even have one, but he couldn´t be asked to argue. You were all that was on his mind. That was probably why his date left anyways.

Roger contemplated going over to Brian´s for the night instead of going home to face you and John, but he knew he had Chrissy over. Freddie was out for the night so that was not an option. He could always rent a hotel room, but it felt silly. It was his house after all.

However, he regretted his decision the second he stepped into the flat. He could hear the faint sounds of kissing before he even saw you two. But nothing could prepare him for the sight. John had you pinned against the wall, his lips trailing down you exposed chest. Your head thrown back in pleasure. Roger´s heart sank in his stomach.

Your eyes met his.

“Hi”, you said, pushing John away. Roger wanted nothing more than to punch John square in the face, but instead he held back his aggression, his knuckles going white from how hard he was clenching his hand.

“Y/N, John”, he said. Roger´s eyes fell on John, shooting him a mean look. But John didn´t seem too bothered, he only raised his eyebrows. Making Roger even madder.

“Thought you were out for the night”, John said, sliding his hand down to your ass. Fuck him. That ass used to be Roger´s to touch.

“She had to go, something came up”, Roger said, focusing his gaze on you instead. His eyes immediately softening. “I uh- don´t stop on my account”

Roger did mind, and you all knew it. But he didn´t want to cause a scene either. He knew it was over between you.

“Wasn’t planning to”

John started walking you towards the bedroom.

“Right”, Roger mumbled, drawing in a deep breath. He had fucked up.

Roger slammed the door to his room shut, throwing himself on the bed with a thud. He knew you were just on the other side of the wall, he could hear you talk. He couldn´t make out what you were saying, but when he heard the familiar noise of your moans, he groaned. God, he had missed those sounds, and he was fuming that he wasn´t the one who made you make them.

Roger couldn´t help but let his mind wander to the last time you had sex. It was after an argument, both of you riled up with aggression. The moans you made that night sounded just like the ones you were making now, and Roger´s cock started stirring in his pants.

He shouldn´t be doing this, absolutely not. But he couldn´t help but reach a hand down to palm his bulge. It just felt so good, and your moans were so hot. He could hear John too, but when he closed his eyes, all he could see was himself pounding into you.

Roger cursed under his breath, he had to cum. He fumbled with his belt, hearing your moans get louder and louder. When his cock was finally free of its restraints, he let out a sigh of relief. Roger wrapped a hand around his hard cock, using his pre-cum as lube. He twisted his hand around the tip before setting a steady pace.

The bed on the other side of the wall started banging against the wall, and Roger couldn´t help but let his hand follow the same pace. He was way too hot, a thin layer of sweat covering his entire body, but he needed the release. Fuck, he had hoped his date would let him shag her, but no such luck. He hadn’t slept with anyone since you, and it was definitely affecting his stamina. His balls already drawing up, the knot in his stomach tightening.

Roger heard John tell you that he was close, followed by a pretty moan. You were yelling for him to don´t stop, and Roger found himself unable too as well. He cupped his balls with his free hand, rolling them around in his grasp.

The second he heard that tell-tale moan you always made when you came, rope after rope of sticky hot cum shot out of his cock. It coated his hand, some of it dribbling down to his t-shirt. Shit, now that was ruined too.

Roger threw his head back, staring onto the ceiling. He had just jerked off to the sounds of his best friend fucking his ex. And if that was bad, he even had to leave his room when he heard you start to moan again. Roger decided on taking a shower, but memories of when you last joined him there almost made him hard yet again.

But what was even worse, was seeing John´s smug face the next morning. Roger was trying to enjoy a cup of coffee, when the brunette strode into the kitchen, all whistling and happy. His entire body radiating “I just had sex”.

“Good morning”, John said, walking over to the fridge. He pulled out ingredients for eggs and bacon. What Roger used to make you in the morning.

“Fuck off”, Roger mumbled, feeling his anger rising within.

“Look Roger, I´m sorry. And I´m sorry that you had to hear it, but you were the one who came home”, John said, cracking an egg into the pan. “You know how I feel about Y/N”

“And you know how I feel about her”

“You don´t have feelings for her, that’s why you dumped her. You just miss her body, and I get that. She´s an amazing shag”, John said. He knew it would piss Roger off, and he was right. Roger shot out of his chair, balling his fist in the air as he closed in on John. If looks could kill.

Roger would have punched him too if you hadn´t gotten in the way.

“Oh my god what are you doing, Roger?”, you yelled.

You slid in between them, staring up at Roger with those beautiful eyes of yours. He felt his heart sink in his chest. Those eyes used to be filled with love, now it was regret he saw I them.

“Deaky promised me he wouldn´t sleep with you”, Roger said. He instinctively reached out to place his hands on your waist, but you pulled them away. Looking up at him strictly.

Roger sighed.

“I heard you guys all fucking night”

“Actually I never promised, you just said she wouldn´t shag me”, John said, causing Roger´s attention to drift.

“I don’t fucking care, John. That’s my ex-girl, I still love her”, Roger yelled. He didn´t even realize what he said until it was too late, his eyes widening in panic. “Shit okay I do, I still love you, Y/N”

He could tell by your body language that you were upset, but it was true. He did love you, and he kicked himself for dumping you. What he wouldn’t give to take it all back. His heart sinking when he saw John slide his arms around your waist. You didn´t stop him like you did with him. Roger had been replaced.

“Oh, so now you love me? How convenient. Roger, you dumped me. Live with it. I´m an adult, if I want to be with John then I will. And I do”, you said, pausing to smile softly. “You blew your change. I´m sorry, Roger. We´re over”

Roger closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had to be mature about it, he knew that. He didn´t want to cause a scene in front of you. So, he turned on his heel and left the house. Leaving his heart in a pile on the kitchen floor. It was his own fault.

Masterlist

Permanent tag list: @tanya-is-dead, @meghans-corner, @killah-queenz, @mrs-tayylor, @sunflower-borhap-boys, @seasexnsun, @valkyrie-and-lokis-daughter, @joes-milk, @pantamemes, @unicornofdanger, @gwilymplots, @monochromedeacon, @pushthetide21, @finite-incantatem-7, @jiswoogannon, @personofinterest, @bensrhapsody, @bowiequeen, @another-random-girl, @augustjosephine, @vee-ndetta, @mymelancholyblu3s, @the-next-one, @katiesobsession, @catch-a-deak, @cheese-on-deaky, @caffeine-girl, @spacedust1124719, @rogerm-taylor, @scarsout

Tag list is open. I will add/remove you if you comment you want to, but I won’t reply (this is a side blog). If you want me to reply, send me an ask:)

#my writing #roger taylor #roger taylor angst #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor x reader smut #roger taylor imagine #john deacon #john deacon smut #fanfiction #roger taylor fan fiction #angst #smut

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 5 years

Text

Twenty-Seven Steps, Chapter 15: You’re Not His Wife [September 1978]

Series summary: Callahan is an American living and studying in London. When Freddie befriends her and brings her into Queen’s inner circle, she finally learns what it’s like to have a family. But love and loyalty aren’t always black and white, and Calla must navigate conflicting desires and obligations as she accompanies John, Roger, Brian, and Freddie through their interwoven lives.

Chapter summary: Roger parties too hard.

Chapter warnings: Language, pregnancy, drug references.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing) HERE

Taglist: @the-borhap-boys @pinkmarvel @killer-queen-xo @killah-queenz @sincereleygmg @calspixie

Calla often found herself thinking of astronomy, and it had nothing at all to do with Brian May. When she looked at her boys, she saw the stardust that had built them, each layer of celestial memory layered upon the others and somehow, miraculously, forged like steel into new life: it was in their luminous dark eyes, in the chubby wrinkles of their pale and impossibly soft skin, in their ever-expanding minds, grasping for new journeys each day like the reaching arms of a spiral galaxy.

Carlisle John was closing in on two, a serious and cerebral toddler—as much as a toddler could be, anyway—who reminded Calla a lot of herself. Brighton Frederick, nine months, was more like John, mischievous and cheerful and with a mop of unruly auburn hair; he was called Little Fred by almost everybody, although Brian jokingly referred to him as Lil’ Bri. The child Calla was carrying now would be her third late-autumn or winter birth in three years, and she knew for a fact that it was a girl this time, although she wasn’t able to explain how she did. She felt drained and often foggy—more than she had with the others—but she felt full as well: of love, of purpose, of excitement for the future. More days than not, she didn’t mind being home with her children while Queen jaunted across the globe. More days than not, she was perfectly happy.

Chrissie swept Carlisle off the floor and snuggled him as he squealed with delight, pawing at her shoulder with tiny hands. Chrissie had just had her first baby in June, a boy christened James and called Jimmy, and she came over to Calla and John’s home in Putney often to exchange gossip and mothering tips. Oftentimes, Calla suspected Chrissie just needed to hear another voice who understood what it was like for her husband to be gone more months out of the year than he was home, who knew what it was like to have to share him with the world.

“He’s huge!” Chrissie marveled, bouncing Carlisle on her knees. Jimmy was fast asleep in his carrier, while Little Fred pushed Cheerios around the table from his highchair and murmured contently to himself.

Calla smiled as she wiped down the kitchen counters. “He’ll be marching off to Oxford before we know it. I’m already teaching him the pre-conquest British kingdoms.”

“No!” Chrissie giggled, releasing Carlisle to rampage through the dining room. He began stalking an orange ball like a lion hunting wildebeest. “Well he’s an easy one, isn’t he?”

“Oh lord, they both are. I mean, Freddie can be a handful, but nothing like what some mums have to deal with.”

“Jimmy’s still so small, so helpless. Who knows who he’ll grow up to be.” She gazed at her son, then abruptly turned to Calla. “You know Brian has barely seen him.”

“Oh?” Calla tried to sound casual. She knew what was coming, but she didn’t know what to say. There was no making it better. There was no magic pill.

“He flew home for the birth, helped me name him, then he was gone again. He doesn’t even call regularly. He’s...” She waved her hand nebulously towards the ceiling, towards outer space. “He’s out there somewhere in another world. Drowning in booze and shows and women. And Jimmy and I don’t have a place in that.”

“Chrissie, don’t.” Calla took her hands. “Brian loves you. He loves Jimmy. Being on tour is hard! They have to play a part, get in the mental space of being a rock star. It can be hard to keep sight of what’s going on at home without feeling guilty...without getting distracted. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love and miss you.”

“I bet John calls you all the time.”

Calla shrugged cavalierly. “Not too often.” In truth, John did call her quite a lot; so did Freddie, and so did Rog. Even Brian gave her a ring occasionally. They gushed to her about how the tour was going, about Freddie and Roger’s latest antics, about the song lyrics Brian was agonizing over, about how fiercely John missed her and the boys. They did a splendid job keeping her included in their adventures...or, rather, they usually did. Calla hadn’t heard from Queen in more than a week, which was beyond abnormal. She was trying not to worry. She knew they’d thrown an explosive party in New Orleans since the last phone call—the photos were all over the tabloids, complete with strippers, drag queens, snake charmers, and a marching band—and she suspected they were still recovering in some dimly-lit hotel suite somewhere, nursing themselves with Tylenol and ginger ale and disheveled naps. Calla was deliberate in her refusal to get jealous or judgmental over their activities while on tour; John was faithful to her, the band hadn’t forgotten about her, and that was all she felt it was fair to ask for.

“Forget it. I’m sorry, Calla,” Chrissie said. “I’m just feeling sorry for myself. I should know better than to complain to you, of all people. It can’t be easy for you either.”

No, it wasn’t easy; but it was never as hard for Calla as it was for the others. Brian was forever chasing some phantom of perfect love—a love that doesn’t exist—and Chrissie was too often left in the dust. Freddie had ended his engagement but Mary was struggling to move on, not least because Freddie’s enduring affection kept her falling back into his orbit. Roger was smitten with a French beauty named Dominique, a clever and diminutive brunette who Calla liked well enough, although Dom was reticent around her. Calla felt a little sorry for Dominique; not because Roger was unique in being capable of infidelity—Calla knew for a fact that Brian and Freddie were as well—but because it just felt so inevitable with Rog. Meanwhile, John and Calla were more or less as they’d always been: inexplicably connected, understated, devoted. If her boys were stardust and Calla was the sun then John was Earth, close and constant, tied to her by gravity. And how wonderful it was to have her own place in the universe.

“We’ll survive, Chrissie. We always have. We always will. And they’ll always come home to us.”

“God, you’re an ox. Nothing rattles you.”

“It’s a Capricorn thing.”

Chrissie laughed and began gathering up her purse and keys. “Well, Jimmy and I are going to swing by Tesco for some pasties and Nutella, and then maybe we’ll walk through the park—”

The phone rang, and Calla glanced at the clock. It was 11:30 a.m. in London, and far too early in the States for the boys to be awake. “That can’t be them,” Calla said to Chrissie. Still, she picked up the phone. “Deacon residence.”

“Hi, Cal.”

Calla collapsed into the nearest chair. “Rog! Oh, thank god. I thought you were dead.” She looked to Chrissie, who smiled and waved as she picked up Jimmy’s carrier.

“I’ll leave you to it. Talk to you soon!”

Calla nodded a goodbye as Chrissie slipped out the door. Outside the sunlight was glaring and warm and beautiful. She took mental note of what the boys were up to: Little Fred was still happily gnawing on cereal while Carlisle bounced his ball around the floor with great concentration. “How are you?”

“Ah...I can honestly say I’ve been better.” His voice was bewildered and halting.

“You sound like you’ve been better. What on earth have you been into?”

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

“Try me.” What time would it be there, 6:30 a.m.? 5:30? “Are you still in New Orleans?”

“I’m in L.A.”

Calla’s brow furrowed as she rose and plucked the tour itinerary off the refrigerator. The last concert had been eight days ago, but the band still had promotional events they were supposed to be attending. L.A. was not one of those stops; in fact, it was nowhere near one of those stops. “What are you doing in Los Angeles?”

“I’ve been doing drugs in a hotel room with Steven Tyler.”

“You’ve been...what? With...who? Steven Tyler from Aerosmith?”

“There’s only one Steven Tyler, Cal.”

“You—! I—!” She shook her head, trying to chase away her shock, her criticism. “How long have you been doing this?”

“I don’t know. I think a week.” He paused, laughing to himself without much humor. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, I didn’t want to bother you. I don’t even know what planet I’m on right now, to be honest. I just stumbled into the lobby with no cash, no cards, almost no memory of the last week, no Steven Tyler...all I have are the clothes on my back and my passport, thank god for that. I’m using the concierge phone, but I don’t think they believe I am who I say I am. They’re looking at me like I’m some homeless guy who’s going to steal this phone the second they turn around and pawn it for cheeseburgers. Your number is the only one I could remember. I couldn’t even figure out my own, what does that tell you?”

“Where’s the band? Where is the tour manager?!”

“I have no idea. I ditched them and they went on without me.”

“Right.” Calla sprang into action, taking John’s book from the cabinet above the stove. In it, among innumerable accounting figures, were listed names, addresses, and phone numbers for all of Queen’s business associates. “What hotel are you at?”

“Uhh...” There was a pause as he asked someone. “The Waldorf Astoria.”

“How picturesque. Okay, here’s what I can do for you. There’s a producer in L.A. called Mark Mendelson that Freddie is acquainted with. I’ll call him and have one of his people pick you up and front you the money for a plane ticket home. Sound like plan?”

“Oh my god, you’re a saint.”

“That’s just what I do.”

“Is the band mad at me?”

Calla chuckled. Little Fred looked up and reached for her, his miniature fingers flexing. She ran her right hand through his wild hair, the pink stone ring Roger had once given her glinting in the morning sunlight. “How would I know that? Probably. Certainly. They’ll forgive you.”

“I owe you the world, you know,” Roger said softly. “I owe it to you several times over by now. You’ve saved me in more ways than I could count.” And there was something in his voice that knocked the breath out of her. If John was Earth then Roger was a comet, soaring in an elliptical orbit from one corner of the solar system to the other, clipping by at rogue speed every once in a few millennia. A lot of the time, he was out in deep space somewhere, lost in his own voyages; and when he was, it was easy for Calla to forget about that night in Milan over two years ago, to forget that split second when she thought she was in love with him. But when Roger did come roaring back into her splinter of the universe, when he felt so close there was no space between them at all...well, things weren’t so easy then.

“Don’t be dramatic, darling,” she said, imitating Freddie. “I have to go, Carlisle just stumbled out of the room and I can’t see him, he could be doing drugs with Steven Tyler for all I know.”

“How are the tiny bassists?”

“Mostly feral.”

“When do I get one named after me?”

“Patience is a virtue, Roger Meddows Taylor.”

“Okay,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “Okay. Thank you, Cal. I owe you—”

“You don’t,” she replied, and hung up the phone.

~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later, there was a knock at the front door. Calla let the plate she’d been scrubbing slip beneath the soapy water. She loved being in her kitchen; she loved cooking and listening to records and watching the quiet suburban street outside from the picture windows that lined the room. In the evenings, once the boys were asleep, she would come in here to sit at the dining room table and leaf through music magazines or reviews of Queen’s latest album or Hall’s Chronical or one of countless other historical books she owned. She always tried to stay up as late as she could, the moon rising, the candles flickering, just in case the band tried to call.

“Who is it?” Carlisle asked in his lisping falsetto, climbing to his feet. He had been sitting on the floor and hammering overturned pots and pans like drums. Little Fred was in his highchair, thoughtfully nibbling on bits of fresh bread that Calla had baked with rosemary and olive oil and honey. Jim Morrison was crooning on the record player.

“Who is it, Car? I don’t know, let’s go see!”

She followed the toddler closely as he scrambled towards the door and reached futilely for the knob. When Calla turned it, crisp autumn air stepped into the living room, and so did John.

“Daddy!” Carlisle screamed, and John rocketed him off the floor and into his arms.

“Hi, kiddo! Hi! Daddy missed you! Daddy missed you so much...” He clutched Carlisle to his chest with one hand and drew Calla to him with the other. “What have you been up to, huh? What have you and Mum been doing without me? Having lots of fun? Have you chased away any potential man-mistresses? Mailmen, milkmen, the dashing yard maintenance crew...”

Carlisle babbled excitedly as John kissed Calla, slowly, passionately, savoring it. He tasted like cigarettes and mint gum and the wine he’d had in the limo. He’s drinking too much. He’s overextending himself. What can I do for him? “Miss me?” he asked, grinning.

“Only every second of every day.” She smiled up at him, soaking him in, storing up these memories for the next time he was gone. John briefly touched his forehead to hers, then peered past her into the kitchen.

“Is Little Fred in there?”

“Yes, yes, go say hello!”

Still holding Carlisle, John jogged into the kitchen and bent down to kiss the top of Little Freddie’s shaggy head. The baby stared up at him, cooing, nibbling a hunk of bread crust, puzzled but pleasant about it. “He doesn’t recognize me.”

Calla laughed. “He’s nine months old, John. He calls me Mop. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“I’m not here enough.” John got a distant look in his dark eyes, then shook it off. Calla struggled to read him, as she often did. After all their years together, Roger had become a window to be gazed through; John was still a book with invisible ink written between every line.

“You’re here as often as you can be,” Calla said, embracing him again. “We all know that. We all love you. We’re proud of you.”

“I’m home,” he whispered through her hair, the same words he always used when they were reunited after a tour. But for the first time she could remember, his voice still sounded far away.

~~~~~~~~~~

They clinked their glasses; champagne in Freddie’s, sparking cider for Calla. “Darling, you simply must stop being constantly pregnant. I haven’t seen you wasted in years. And what a shame that is, because you are the most adorable drunk. Isn’t that right, Deaky?”

“Well—”

“Oh of course you know, that’s how you fell in love isn’t it, over drinks and music, whispering to each other in quiet corners of parties just like this one?”

“Ah,” John mused, reminiscing. “But the refreshments were so much less posh then.” His arm was tight around Calla.

“So,” Freddie continued, “invest in some fucking rubbers, you two.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Calla replied, smiling, stroking her belly with one hand. She was wearing a sparkling, short black dress, flats, her hair secured in a bun. She looked good for being in her condition, she knew that; she looked good, period.

“I’m joking, darlings, of course. I adore your children. They’re my favorite children, actually. One isn’t supposed to have favorite children, but alas, I am an imperfect mortal.”

“Thanks, Fred.” Brian said.

“Oh dear, I, I...well I don’t see you naming your bloody offspring after me!”

“That’ll be the next one,” Brian promised with mock solemnity. “First and middle name. Freddie Frederick. He’ll be born in a sequined leotard.”

Freddie threw back his head, his hair flopping, and howled. He had rented the entire restaurant for his birthday party, including the bar upstairs. There were servers in lingerie carrying plates of hor d'oeuvres and champagne and Cuban cigars. There were companions and coworkers and acquaintances and musicians everywhere; Calla had already met Sting and one of the Van Halens, she wasn’t sure which. Freddie’s boyfriend David Minns, a kind and soft-spoken man who Calla got along well with, was mingling with friends in the bar upstairs. Calla had no idea where Paul Prenter was, and she liked it that way.

The front door opened and a man in a loud checkered green coat, red beret, and oversized bedazzled sunglasses stepped inside. Freddie flew to his feet. “Sharon!”

The man spotted him and opened his arms. “Melina!”

The two embraced warmly, and Calla looked to John. “I hate to be judgmental, but that does not look like a Sharon.” Then she understood. “Ah, Fred’s nicknames.”

“That’s Elton,” Brian said, sipping his Vesper.

“Elton John?!” Calla gasped. An unfamiliar man walked by their booth, sniffling and rubbing his nose. Calla saw white power on his hands. Cocaine.

“Never touch that,” John said to her, his voice low. “I don’t care who offers it to you. You don’t know the cut, and you don’t know how your body will react until you’ve done it. It can kill people.”

“Noted.”

Freddie dragged Elton to the table and presented him like a Christmas ham. “Lovelies, this is the incomparable Elton John. Dear Sharon, this is Brian May, our bassist John Deacon, and his wife the lovely Callahan. You know I’m the one who set them up, it’s true, they never would have met if not for me, and now they’re happily married and drowning in precious children.”

“It’s a delight to meet you!” Calla said, seizing Elton’s hands. “I’m a huge fan. Rocket Man is one of my favorite songs. I’m sure you get that all the time, but I do mean it.”

“Thank you kindly, Mrs. Deacon.” Elton John smiled at her, radiating gentleness and warmth, showing the adorable silver of a gap between his front teeth.

“Don’t get too starstruck and go into preterm labor,” Freddie warned her. “We’re bursting at the seams with celebrities. You know Steven Tyler is here somewhere too.”

“Is he?” Calla pulled herself to her feet, trying to appear unaffected. “Well I’m off to find the ladies’ room. The ocean of precious children does come at a price.”

“It’s right at the top of the stairs, darling,” Freddie told her. “Now come on, Sharon...let’s find you a joint.”

Calla navigated through the crowd as John and Brian ordered another round of drinks. She climbed the stairs, used the restroom quickly (that part hadn’t been all ruse), then turned into the bar instead of returning downstairs. She perused from the shadows, taking in the dancing bodies and smoldering cigarettes and the ice clicking in glasses. Not finding what she was searching for, Calla reluctantly ambled back into the hallway leading to the stairs. Then, like a bear coming up from hibernation, he appeared out of the men’s restroom, all huge hair and prodigious mouth and shimmering gold jacket.

“You,” she said furiously.

“Me?” Steven Tyler took a few clumsy steps backward, hit the wall, and grinned unfocusedly. He was high on something, and it wasn’t weed. He stuck out his hand. “Steven Tyler.”

Calla didn’t shake it. “Callahan Deacon.”

He nodded. He recognized her name. How would he know who I am? “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Deacon.” His eyes grazed her belly. “And company.”

“How dare you.”

He spoke slowly, dazedly, flirtatiously. “You’ll have to elaborate, dear.”

“You partied with Roger Taylor in L.A. You know who I’m talking about, right? Blond, British, drummer, gorgeous, better man than you could ever hope to be.”

Tyler chuckled. “Rings a bell.”

“Stay the fuck away from him.”

His smile died. “What did you say to me?”

“He’s not like you. He doesn’t party like you. He doesn’t do anything harder than coke, and he rarely does that. He’s got no tolerance built up. He can’t handle speed or heroin or acid or meth or whatever fucking cocktail you just shot through your veins. You could hurt him. You could kill him. So don’t you dare party like that with him again. Because if you hurt Roger, if you kill him, I will destroy you. I’ll have you imprisoned for manslaughter. I’ll sue you until you’re nothing but a homeless vagrant, begging for change on some street corner so you can jab your next fix into your arm with dirty needles. I will destroy you.”

Tyler stared vacantly, stunned, his compromised mind churning through her words. Finally, he said: “You’re not his wife, you know.”

“I wasn’t aware. Tell me more.”

Tyler narrowed his dark, glassy eyes at her. “You’re a real bitch, aren’t you?”

“Lovely Callahan, there you are!” Freddie dashed into the hallway, taking Calla by her shoulders. “Having a good time, are you Steve? Fantastic! Carry on!” He steered Calla down the steps. In a whisper, he chastised: “You! Don’t! Pick! Fights! With! High! People! Especially not at the top of staircases!”

“He’s a viper, and he could have hurt Rog.”

“Roger can take care of himself. Don’t start soldiering on his behalf. Especially not in your condition.”

“I’m not delicate, Fred. I’m just huge.”

“Nonetheless, it’s my birthday party, and I make the rules. I say no arguments!”

They stepped back into the dining room, and as they did Dom passed them going up the stairs, wearing a smart white dress and with stylish choppy bangs and smiling like she always did, like she had a secret she didn’t care to share. Freddie said hello and they kissed cheeks and exchanged pleasantries. Dom waved to Calla, but she didn’t say anything. Calla was already thinking of Rog; if Dom had arrived, so had he.

Through the clamor of the room, Calla heard Brian shout: “Rog, you finally got a tattoo!”

“Oh god,” Freddie sighed.

She scanned the space and found them: Roger, already drunk from a preparty, was wearing a black tank top and dark jeans. He had a pink-striped suit jacket in his left hand, a rum and coke in his right. He was grinning, lighthearted, literally off-balance. Brian was teasing him, and Roger was laughing along. Calla remembered how Roger had once told her—in the basement of his mother’s home on Christmas Eve—that one part of fame he was most looking forward to was getting tattoos with impunity. In 1972, she hadn’t thought to ask what he wanted a tattoo of.

“Does Dom know about this?!” John asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

“What is it?” Calla stepped closer. Brian spun Roger around to show her. He pulled the strap of Roger’s tank top aside, exposing his right shoulder, muscled and tan.

There, in black ink, was a calla lily.

#borhap #queen #borhap imagine #queen imagine #john deacon x reader #roger taylor x reader #twenty seven steps #twenty seven steps series

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stylexzerrahluv · 4 years

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lucy

—

I love to play different characters and personalities, so for me to merge that into my blogging is extremely exciting and to do it again is amazing ♡ I can’t wait to do more photos, each contrasting each other. I’d love to show people that my style contrasts from time to time and I’m in love with all of them! Oh, the beauty of no boundaries. Anyways, meet Lucy, my inner succubus ♡ This look is completed by Deadboy Ink’s Deadboy Eyes & Blood Tears, Garmonbozia’s Melanconia Horns, Absinthe’s Matte Lipstick, Pawesome’s Stiletto Nails & Quadratus Demise’s Ninuno Markings ♡

—

WHAT AM I WEARING? ♡

Tattoo ♡ Quadratus Demise // Ninuno Markings (Darkness Monthly Event) Horns ♡ Garmonbozia // Melanconia Horns (Mainstore) Nails ♡ Pawesome // Stiletto Nails (Mainstore) Eyes ♡ Deadboy Ink // Deadboy Eyes (Mainstore) Blood Tears ♡ Deadboy Ink // Blood Tears (Mainstore) Lips ♡ Absinthe // Matte Lipstick (Mainstore) Collar ♡ Queenz Ears ♡ PUMEC Skin ♡ ItGirls Rings ♡ Kibitz Hair ♡ VCO Underwear ♡ Seniha

—

EVENTS ♡

Darkness Monthly Event

Teleport ♡ http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Zen%20Soul/186/63/27

—

Check out these lovely creators’ portfolio, list of products, links and landmarks or if you miss out the event, please feel free to click on the landmarks below ♡

SPONSORS ♡

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Socials & Landmark

Mainstore ♡ http://maps.secondlife.com/.../Isle%20of.../29/99/2001

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Quadratus Demise

Socials & Landmark

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Garmonbozia

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Blog ♡ https://garmonboziasl.wordpress.com/

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Mainstore ♡ http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Ardis%20Isle/90/117/1502

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—-

HD Photo on Flickr ♡

https://www.flickr.com/photos/183303117@N07/50810515537/in/dateposted-public/

#lelutka #maitreya #deadboyink #garmonbozia #absinthe

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marauderundercover · 3 years

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Taking Chances Chapter 3: Happy Little Accidents (Identities)

AO3

@maribat-bdbwm

Marinette stared at the man in front of her, trying not to let her jaw drop. Sure she’d seen pictures of Bruce Wayne last night, Adrien made sure she was well educated on the man’s less than ideal fashion choices. But his choice of a sharp suit or his eyes that too closely matched hers weren’t why her jaw dropped. No, her jaw dropped because-

“Batman!” She says, in a wonderful moment of word association added to the man’s height and build. Mr. Wayne’s eyebrow quirks up and Marinette’s face instantly turns bright red as she hears the snickers of her classmates around her. Marinette immediately wishes that they would have left her and gone back to the bus without her, but no such luck. Instead they got to see her embarrass herself in front of her bio dad for the first time. Not that they knew that, but still. It was the principle of the thing.

“I-” Mr. Wayne starts, but she cuts him off.

“Oh, no, oh my god, I’m- no, I’m so, so sorry. I just, you’re- and you- and well yesterday, um, so I just, you seemed really familiar and I saw Batman yesterday so I said it and I shouldn't have and I'm so sorry I'm just freaking out cause my bi- ohhhhh….I mean-” Marinette rambles on, her blush darkening as she tries and fails to let out a coherent sentence in front of the man. She’s mercifully saved by the sharp blare of an akuma alert, the phones of every one of her classmates blaring at the same time. Mr. Wayne and the other employees in the lobby of Wayne Enterprises look confused, but Marinette is relieved.

“What-” Mr. Wayne tries to ask, but is cut off yet again.

“Oh well that’s not good gotta go call Paris-bye!” She yells, rushing away from the group and towards the bathrooms. She groans at the look Kaalki give her when she opens her purse.

“That was a disaster.” They say simply with an unamused face. Marinette groans again.

“Please don’t remind me. Tikki, spots on! Tikki, Kaalki, unify!” Marinette yells before calling a portal and falling into Paris, the awkward situation pushed to the back of her mind while she pours her focus into her Ladybug duties.

---

Bruce Wayne was confused. And worried. But mostly confused. Or, the confusion overweighed the worry until he asked about the alarm on the French class’ phones. That’s when the worry began to take center stage. A supervillian? In Paris? For almost two years? Why was the League not informed?

“Um, would you like to watch the battle, Monsieur Wayne?” A blonde boy asks, holding his phone out and rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous fashion. Bruce studies the boy for a moment and recognizes him as the one who hugged Miss Dupain Cheng the day prior. His daughter. Who is currently living in a city with a supervillain and no League intervention. Nodding, Bruce takes the phone and watches the battle, his horror growing. There was one hero, rushing around the scene, one of her pigtails singed and soot covering her face. What the hell kind of villain was this? And why did the hero look so small? Bruce flinches as the hero, Ladybug the comments called her, is thrown against a building roughly. He waits with baited breath until she stands back up, her face set in a grimace before she went on the offense with a vengenace.

“Who is this villain? I’ve never heard of them?” Bruce asks Adrien, not bothering to look away from the fight.

“I don’t know this one’s name, Akumas all have different names and powers.” Adrien replies. Bruce’ gaze snaps up to meet Adrien’s as his blood runs cold. All. As in, multiple.

“How many villains?” He asks, thankful that his newly discovered daughter is currently in Gotham instead of Paris, a sentiment he never expected with the crime rates of his beloved city.

“Oh, there’s only one villain. Hawkmoth. Akumas are just people who’ve had a bad day.” Adrien explains as if it’s a simple concept.

“And what does that mean?” Bruce asks, feeling frustration creep into his neutral posture.

“It means that what you’re seeing right now is a normal citizen who’s being controlled. Hawkmoth…. He has the power to control anyone who shows an extreme negative emotion. Heartbreak, anger, sadness, lonelines, anything negative can be used against you. We, Paris that is, don’t blame those who were akumatized. They can’t even remember what they did when they were under his control. It wouldn’t be fair to hold them accountable.” Adrien explains, and Bruce can’t help the feeling of complete and total helplessness that rushes over him. If he went to Paris, even with the intention of helping the hero in order to protect his daughter, he could become an even bigger obstacle. He could hurt her. He could hurt others.

“Is that why the Justice League isn’t there?” Bruce asks, slightly amused at Adrien’s face rapidly changing from understanding to shocked.

“I-um, probably? If you want more information, miraculousparis.org or the Ladyblog would be your best places for information.” Adrien offers. Bruce nods, mentally making a note to check out those sites later.

“Very well. Thank you. I hope the rest of your trip to Gotham is enjoyable.” Bruce says, careful not to slip into a threatening tone. The boy hadn’t done anything to him, and while he might want to play the protective father, he knew it wasn’t his right. Not yet, anyways. Now he had a supervillain to destroy from behind the scenes.

---

Opening a portal into her hotel room, Marinette sighs tiredly. The battle had been tiring, especially since she was on her own. Chat Noir had some kind of trip that he couldn’t get out of and had aplogized endlessly for it. She had reassured him that she could do it, but now… she knew she could do it but she really missed her partner. Letting both transformations drop, she sighs, relieved that the odd number of girls in their class allowed her to have her own room. Until a gasp filled her ears. She instantly shifts into a fighting position, shoulders tense as she stares at-

“Adrien?!” She yells in shock and confusion. What was he doing? In her hotel room? Without her? How did he even get a key? How was she supposed to explain this? Well, he did know the basics from his time as Aspik but-

“But you’re Multimouse!” Adrien yells before clapping his hand over his mouth, his cheeks instantly turning red. Marinette’s eyes widen.

“How do you know about that?” She asks, panic rushing through her system.

“Oh my god.” Adrien says, his eyes widening as he glances from Marinette to Tikki and back again. “Oh my god.”

“Please don’t tell anyone! I know you don’t owe me anything, but I just really don’t know if I can handle being the center of attention and then my family would be in danger and I know they wouldn’t approve because it’s dangerous and I-”

“THE TWO GIRLS I HAVE A CRUSH ON ARE THE SAME GIRL?” Adrien says, his eyes wide as he cuts off her rambling.

“I- wait what?” Marinette sputters, completely shocked at this turn of events.

“Well I’ve had a crush on Ladybug for forever and then like a month ago, I was talking to Plagg about how mad it made me that people weren’t listening to you and how hurt you were by the whole high road advice which was, honestly, not my best moment. And somehow, I started ranting about how pretty your eyes are and how kind and amazing you are and so then Plagg told me that that’s a crush, and I thought he was wrong. Until I saw you the next day and realized that he was right but then I felt bad because I felt like I was betraying Ladybug by having a crush on you instead, but Ladybug is you. Which makes sense, now that I think about it and-” Adrien’s cut off by Marinette covering his mouth with her hand, desperate to get him to stop talking.

“Plagg?” She asks, jumping back from him as the Kwami flies out from Adrien’s pocket.

“Good job kid, you broke pigtails.” He says, gesturing at Marinette who suddenly felt like the human version of the windows error screen. Could this trip get any weirder?

Tag List: @vixen-uchiha @liquid-luck-00 @stainedglassm @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks

#maribat bruce wayne #maribat #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #maribat bio dad au #mbdbwm2021 #day three identity

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ms-starflower · 3 years

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Young Survivors – Part 4 – Maribat

Hey! Here we go, another chapter! I have literally zero schedule, guys. Maybe I should try to have one. Like, maybe Wednesday? Or Saturday? I dunno, we’ll see.

I posted the story on AO3! You can read this chapter here, or start from chapter 1 here!

Anyway, no Jason/Marinette reunion in this chapter, sorry guys, but there are a couple more things that have to happen before that. But we got a teeny tiny interaction with a batfam member!

Also, I think I'm set on Timari guys! I'm, like, 97% sure!

Hope you enjoy!!

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Taglist:

@frieddonutsweets @imarivers8 @queenz-z @emistar0 @jayjayspixiepop @waffleyunsure @bigpicklebananatree @kking13 @redbullgivescaswings @ritacrow-blog @marvel--unsolved @redgemsposts @alexizlazy @toodaloo-kangaroo @gajer-1226 @adrestar @noisydeputyturkeybear @unoriginalmess

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marinette let her eyes roam around the cafeteria, her forks playing with the food on her plate, trying to distract herself from her thoughts. If the tour hadn’t been as interesting as it was, she would be regretting the fact that they sent Mr Reed to pick her up. But as it was, it was totally worth the lecture Mlle Petit gave her when she got here, and the scrutiny under which she was keeping her since.

It was the first time since this morning she didn’t have to support her teacher's suspicious glare on her for more than five minute, and Marinette was really glad for that. Even if she was a little bit sorry for Beth, their tour guide, who was the one supporting all of Mlle Petit’s focus at the moment. The poor woman looked literally in pain, the teacher either oblivious of it, or choosing to ignore it.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” A middle-aged woman with warm eyes and a kind smile asked, putting her tray on the table before sitting in the place in front of her.

“Uhm, yes?” Marinette said with a slow blink, uncertainty lacing her tone as to how this woman would know her and, more importantly, why she was asking for her. The woman’s smile turned amused at her tone, and she arched one of her eyebrows. “I mean, yes, it’s me, who is asking?”

“I’m Sofia, from the emails?” The woman asked with a tilt of her head, as if she wasn’t sure Marinette would recognize her. Which was ridiculous, because Sofia was a literal lifesaver, who had been a major help for Marinette when she was organizing this trip. (Unlike people who were supposed to help, like her homeroom teacher.)

“Mlle Sofia! Of course, I’m happy to finally meet you, Miss!” Marinette exclaimed cheerfully, a bright grin taking over her face, and she let her fork go to focus on Sofia, looking over her face, happy to finally put a face over a name. The woman was somehow exactly like she imagined her, and not at all at the same time.

“Just Sofia is fine, kid,” she told her with a soft laugh. “I was looking forward to meeting you, you seemed like a sharp young woman over mail.”

“Oh. Thank you,” Marinette murmured softly with a blush, looking down and grabbing back her fork. “I was hoping to meet you here, too.”

Sofia smiled fondly down at her, before switching topics and quickly pulling Marinette in a conversation about her children, Alicia and David, twelve and eight years old respectively. Marinette smiled at the obvious love Sofia had for her kids, and couldn’t help thinking of her own mother, a twist of grief and nostalgia curling in her stomach.

Sofia suddenly paused in the middle of the story of David dumping a whole pint of red paint on his sister's hair, looking at something over Marinette shoulders, her hand stopping its waving and a fondly exasperated smile took over her face.

“He took less time than I would have thought to come here,” she said with the same fond exasperation in her tone. Then she turned her attention toward Marinette again, her tone now conspiratorial. “He must have been more curious about you because of the stunt your teacher pulled this morning.”

Marinette startled, surprised that Sofia knew about that, but didn’t have the time to ask anything before a man sat down beside Sofia. He looked young, around her age, maybe a year older, had mi-long dark hair, and a very pretty, if tired, smile.

“Hey, Sofia, Miss Dupain-Cheng,” he greeted with a nod at the both of them.

“Mr Drake,” Sofia replied dryly. “Marinette, honey, let me introduce you to my very curious employer,” she said with emphasis and a pointed look in his direction. Mr Drake only smiled sheepishly in her direction, and Marinette quickly refocused on Sofia, ignoring the knowing look the woman gave her. “Wayne Enterprise Co-CEO; Timothy Drake Wayne.”

And Marinette blinked for another reason totally this time, because ouch. She was honestly surprised at the wave of grief that took over her for a second, before she took back control of her emotions and buried it, to be dealt with later.

It was not as if it was the first time she heard the name Wayne, it was written on the damn building, for crying out loud. But it had been inconsequential, a brand more than a name, more than people. And now, here she was, face to face with someone with that name. And Sofia called him her employer, so he probably was the Tim Wayne the girls in her high school loved to gossip about, Bruce Wayne’s son. (Had he known Jason before his death? Had Jason called him his brother? Does he remember him like she does? Still gutted by guilt and grief and what if what if what if)

“Sorry, sorry, please, don’t bring out the full name Sofia!” Mr Drake exclaimed with his hands held in front of him in surrender, smiling a smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. “But you are always singing praise about Miss Dupain-Cheng, I had to meet her myself, you understand.”

Sofia huffed, and Mr Drake sent her a charming smile, a tiny bit victorious, apparently knowing that he won her over. Marinette chuckled, dissiping the last of her negative feelings with a shake of her head, before smiling slightly at Mr Drake.

“Hello Mr Drake,” he made a face at the name, and her smile grew a bit at that. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, but please, call me Marinette.”

“Only if you call me Tim,” he replied with a boyish grin, before leaning over the table toward her. “None of this Mr Drake nonsense, don’t let Sofia corrupt you! I’ve been trying to make her call me Tim for over two years!”

Sofia only rolled her eyes at his antics, grabbing one of her untouched sandwiches and putting it into Mr D– Tim’s hands.

“Do eat while you are here, Mr Drake, or I will be calling Mr Pennyworth.”

“You wouldn’t,” Tim told her, an expression portraying how much he thought she was betraying him. Sofia arched an eyebrow, and Tim relented, grumbling nonsense under his breath before taking a bite.

“Good,” Sofia said sharply, with a decisive nod of her head. Before pulling Marinette back into a conversation – this time about Marinette’s studies, and where she wanted to take them – and completely ignoring her boss eating beside her.

“So,” Tim said after a minute of relative silence – the cafeteria was loud with chatter – in the conversation, looking at Marinette with curiosity. “I couldn’t help but notice how weird your accent sounds. I mean!” He added suddenly, eyes wide, before she could say anything. “No offense! It’s just that, it doesn’t sound like any other French accent I’ve ever heard. You almost sound like a Gothamite, even.”

“It’s fine,” she said with a shrug and a small smile. “You’re very observant, not everyone notices it right away.”

“I didn’t,” Sofia said slowly, looking at Marinette thoughtfully. “But now that it’s been pointed out, you do sound somewhat like a Gothamite.”

“It’s because I grew up here,” Marinette told them, one hand still clutching her fork and the other playing with the strap of her bag. Tim almost choked on the sip of juice he was drinking in surprise – Sofia had put the juice box in his hands as soon as he finished his sandwich.

“Here as in, here in Gotham?” Tim asked, his unoccupied hand waving around as if to encompass everything around them.

“Well, I didn’t grow up in the halls of Wayne Enterprise, if that’s what you’re asking,” she told him, sarcasm dripping heavily from her tone, startling a laugh out of Sofia. “But yes, born and raised in good, old Gotham City.”

“Did your parents decide to move to Paris?” Sofia asked curiously. “Not that I can blame them.”

“Oh, um, no… I–” She averted her eyes, tapping a random rhythm on the table with the butt of her fork. “My mom died when I was seven, the Dupain-Cheng took me in when I was a little over ten.”

“Oh, honey,” Sofia said softly, putting her hand on the one Marinette had around the fork, making her ease her grip on it. “I’m very sorry for your mother.”

“It’s okay, it was a long time ago,” she said with little conviction and a strained smile, and they were both kind enough not to mention it. “Anyway, I should get going, my class is starting to regroup. It was really great to meet you, Sofia, Tim.”

“You too Marinette, and I hope you enjoy the rest of your tour,” Tim told her with a smile only a little bit sad.

“You have my contact information, hon, don’t hesitate to call if you need anything, alright?” Sofia said, looking at her with narrowed eyes.

“Of course, thank you!” Marinette replied with the most convincing smile she could muster, waving them goodbye before making her way toward Beth and the rest of her class.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting behind his desk, Tim was absently playing around with one of his rubik’s cube and thinking back on his lunch with Sofia and Marinette.

The fact that she grew up here, in Gotham, had been a surprise. And Tim had noticed that there was a three years window she hadn’t mentioned between her mother’s death and her adoption, and he couldn’t help but wonder what happened to her in that time. The orphanages in Gotham, ten years ago, weren’t really the safest.

But what was taking over Tim's thoughts at the moment was her reaction at his name. She had been quick, and good, in covering it up, and he probably wouldn’t have noticed a thing if he hadn’t been trained by Batman himself. But he saw it, the intense and heartbreaking guilt and grief that replaced the surprise for half a second.

What could have caused it was anyone guess, really, and Tim couldn’t figure it out. It was driving him crazy.

He had thought that, maybe, it had something to do with her mother, but the grief she had felt when she talked about her wasn’t laced with the guilt he had seen in her eyes then. Although, what his name would have to do with her mother would have been as much of a mystery.

He looked up from the colorful cube in his hands when the door of his office opened, letting the thing down on his desk when Bruce entered. The man smiled tiredly as he closed the door behind him, and made his way toward his desk, one of his eyebrows raising at the rubik’s cube.

“You only take that thing out when something weighs on your mind,” Bruce told him slowly, his head tilting slightly in question. “Should I be worried?”

“No, it’s… Just something I can’t figure out, but nothing pressing,” Tim waved it off, before grabbing the folder on the French class he put together quickly, before lunch, and passing it to Bruce. “What I need to know is who the fuck did the security screen on the french class.”

“Well, probably security, Tim,” Bruce told him with half a smile, already opening the folder. “Why? Did they miss something?”

“Remember that Rossi girl, the one Ladybug was convinced worked with Hawkmoth?”

“She is in the class,” Bruce said, more than asked, turning the pages to find her profil.

“Yeah,” Tim sighed, pressing lightly on his eyes with his thumb and pointer finger. “I know I shouldn’t be pissed, it’s not like security could have known about that, it was never made public, but…”

“But Ladybug didn’t trust this girl,” Bruce said with a knowing look sent his way, his tone just a little bit teasing, and Tim couldn’t help the slight blush.

“Well, she would be the one to know, wouldn’t she?” He muttered, refusing to let himself be embarrassed by the crush he once had on Paris' heroine.

“Yes, you're right, we should keep an eye on–” Bruce paused for half a second, blinking, before continuing as if nothing happened “–this class.”

The pause was almost unnoticeable, almost. And it was so out of character for Bruce, Tim was on his feet and around the desk before he could close the folder, and thus hiding which profil caused this reaction.

Tim was only half surprised to realize that it was Marinette’s.

“Why does Miss Dupain-Cheng’s profil make you react?” Tim asked, turning suspicious eyes on his mentor and father-figure.

“It doesn’t,” Bruce told him, matter-of-factly, and with a straight face, before closing the folder. It was convincing, of course it was, he was Batman. But the pause. On Marinette’s profil, of all of them.

Tim hadn’t been trained to believe in coincidence.

“It did,” Tim said, eyes narrowed, and Bruce opened his mouth to reply, but Tim continued before he could. “I talked to her at lunch, did you know she was born and grew up in Gotham?”

No surprise in his expression, although it wasn’t mentioned in her profil. Bruce put the folder on the desk and folded his arms in front of his chest.

“Leave it alone, Tim, it has nothing to do with the actual situation,” Bruce told him, tone serious.

“How do you know?” He asked, one hand playing with the folded sleeve of his shirt, cogs turning furiously in his mind. Bruce’s reaction to Marinette, Marinette’s reaction to Tim’s name, born and raised in Gotham, her mother dying when she was seven, getting herself adopted in another country, the black hair, blue eyes… “Oh my god, is she your illegitimate daughter?!”

“What?” Bruce took a step back in shock, genuine surprise painted across his face, before exasperation took over. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How, just. Tim, son, how did you reach such a conclusion, exactly?”

“Hey!” He couldn’t help but exclaim, offended, before walking back to his desk chair. “Don’t sound like that, it’s a legit conclusion to reach!”

“Somehow, I doubt it,” Bruce told him dryly, sitting on the chair in front of his desk.

“One, your reaction to her profile,” he started, ticking off his finger, after sitting down. “Two, the fact that she was born in Gotham over eighteen years ago, still during your playboy period. Three, when she talked about being orphaned, she only talked about her mother. Four, her weird reaction to my name. You know what they say, if the shoe fits…”

“It’s not nearly enough to come to the – false – conclusion that she is my daughter, Tim,” Bruce rolled his eyes, and Tim only shrugged; It had been worth a shot. “And what do you mean by ‘weird reaction to your name’?”

“It was… Sofia called me Mr Drake, and she was fine, didn’t really react to it even. But then she introduced us,” he said, frowning at the memory of the emotions in Marinette’s eyes. It had been short but intense. “And then she introduced me as Timothy Drake Wayne, and Marinette just… Just for one second, she looked like she was drowning under grief and guilt.”

“Because Sofia said Wayne?” Bruce asked, his eyebrows pinched in worry.

“I don’t think it has to do with Wayne as a word, and more to do with the fact that I am a Wayne,” Tim told him thoughtfully, and Bruce looked at him curiously.

“Explain.”

“She didn’t react like that when the company was mentioned, just when I was introduced by name,” Tim shrugged, grabbing a pen and making it roll around his finger. “But I could be wrong, she was scarily good at masking her emotions.”

“I’m not surprised by that, to be honest,” Bruce said quietly, tone wryly amused.

“Why are you not? Why did you react to her profil? What is up with Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” Tim asked, pen twirling faster in his agitation. Bruce, the asshole, only chuckled, humor clear in his eyes.

“You are a detective, Tim,” Bruce started with a smile, getting up from his chair and grabbing the french class’ folder. “Figure it out.”

“I will, don’t think I won’t!”

“Good luck with that,” he told him with a smile, walking toward the door. “But we do need to keep an eye on this class. First a teacher who leave a student behind, then Hawkmoth’s teenage accomplice, I don’t like that.”

Tim just nodded with a noise of approbation, he didn’t like it either. Bruce sent him a knowing look from above his shoulders before closing the door, the pen Tim launched his way landing with a thump on the door.

Well, at least, Bruce’s comportement meant that there was nothing dangerous, for him or his family, in Marinette’s mystery.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘If Lila had Superman’s laser eyes,’ Marinette thought idly, tapping mindlessly her pencil against her sketchbook, ‘I would be dead.’

She could guess why, too. Alya and Sophie had spent the last fifteen minutes whispering excitedly to Lila, and were now cheering for her in the background while the girl made her way toward Beth. Marinette could only imagine what that was about, and one corner of her mouth lifted in half a smile.

The tour was almost finished, and they were now all gathered in a meeting room with a snacks buffet and a couple of W.E. scientists that were answering the students’ questions. It wasn’t really interesting for Marinette, unlike the employees who’d talked about the business side of the company an hour ago, and she was standing against a wall in a corner.

She was close enough to hear Lila, though, so she discreetly focused on their conversation, watching them from the corner of her eyes while seemingly looking down at her sketchbook.

“Mlle Beth, can I ask you something,” Lila started shyly, her lips curled in an overly sweet smile (and Marinette had to reluctantly admit that her English was good).

“Yes, of course, I’m here to answer any of your questions,” Beth told her kindly, her eyes darting curiously toward where Alya and Sophie were still unsubtly cheering Lila.

“Well, my friends and I, we wanted to know if we would see any Wayne today?” Sha asked quietly, one hand twirling a strand of hair, and Marinette almost didn’t hear the end of the question.

“Ah? Well, I’m sorry miss, but no I don’t think so. Mr Wayne and Mr Drake are very busy men, you understand,” Beth told her with a professional smile, her tone amicable.

“Yes, yes, of course,” and Marinette could see Lila’s shoulders relaxing slightly in relief. “And what about Mr Wayne's other sons?”

“Well,” Beth started, her smile becoming a little more strained, and her tone a little less amicable. “I don’t even know if Mr Grayson is in town at the moment, Mr Thomas has college to focus on, and Mr Wayne is still too young to be involved in Wayne Enterprise’s business.”

Marinette looked up in interest at that, not missing the fact that Lila froze, her skin tone turning slightly pale.

“Too young?” She asked weakly.

“Despite what it could seem like, what with Mr Drake becoming Co-CEO at seventeen,” Beth told her with an amused smile. “We don’t make a habit of robbing the cradle for our employees, miss, and the kid is still only fifteen.”

Lila made a distressed noise at that, and Marinette couldn’t help it, she snorted.

Quickly forgetting about her image of a sweet little girl, Lila turned a fierce glare toward her (a glare that had nothing on Hippolyta’s, the few times the woman directed it in Marinette’s way), her lips turned in a sneer.

“Shut up, Dupain-Cheng,” Lila hissed quietly, anger fighting with panic in her eyes.

“I didn't say anything, Rossi,” Marinette told her with a smile, holding the hand gripping her pencil in front of her in surrender. “I am merely wondering how you are going to explain that.”

“You better keep your mouth shut about it,” Lila told her in a low voice, apparently not caring about Beth’s presence in light of that information, a cruel smile on her lips. “Or I’m telling everyone how you grew up, Mei.”

“How do you know that name,” Marinette said through gritted teeth, straightening from her position against the wall. Nobody had called her like that in years, and the fact that Lila was the one doing it made her skin crawl.

“Nino knew a lot about you and your shameful history, I just needed to ask the good questions,” she said with a cruel little smirk, that nobody but her and Beth could see (and Marinette was pretty sure Lila forgot about Beth, at this point).

“I’m not ashamed of my childhood, Lila,” Marinette said with certainty, looking straight into the girl’s eyes.

And it was true, she was proud of where she came from; of her mother and the sacrifices she made to keep them both alive. She was proud of her brother, of the hero he was for her. She knew that people that didn’t grow up in places like Camelia Street or Crime Alley wouldn’t understand the choices they had to make, but she wasn’t ashamed of them.

“You should,” Lila told her disdainfully, looking her up and down. Then she schooled her features in a sad grimace, with fake tears gathering in her eyes, and turned her heels and walked quickly toward her friends.

“What, in the hell, just happened here?” Beth muttered incredulously, and Marinette stopped her glaring at Lila’s back to look toward her. The woman was looking toward Lila, who was being comforted by her friends.

“It’s Lila,” Marinette sighed, as if it explained everything. And, well, in a sense, it did. “She is probably telling them that I lied to you to sabotage her or something.”

“But she is the one that just threatened you,” Beth said, articulating her words carefully, as if afraid she wasn’t going to understand her.

“Yeah, but they don’t know that, and she is good at that lying thing, it’s one of her very few talents,” Marinette said, looking toward the girls, where Alya was now split between comforting her friend and glaring toward Marinette. “And she doesn't want them to listen to me in case I tell them about Damian Wayne’s age.”

“They don’t know?” Beth asked with surprise, her eyes moving between her and Lila’s group. “How can they not know?”

“I honestly don’t know. I didn’t know because, honestly, I don’t care about that sort of thing,” Marinette said with a shrug. “But people believe everything that gets out of her mouth. In middle school she made our class believe that she saved Jagged Stone’s cat from an airplane.”

“There are so many things wrong with this sentence,” Beth said with disbelief, blinking at her. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Yep,” Marinette said, popping the p. “And, three years ago or so, the fact that Damian Wayne was entering high school made the headlines.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember that! Mr Wayne was so proud of his kid, twelve and already in high school. I think he talked about it with literally anyone who crossed his path for, like, three weeks.”

“Yeah, although I can’t remember if they ever mentioned his age. And, I guess it got stuck in Lila’s head, for one reason or another,” Marinette said with a smile, looking over toward Lila. Her smile grew a bit when she met the other girl’s eyes. “Because two years ago, after the summer, Lila told the whole high school all about her steamy affair with the young Mr Wayne.”

“Oh god, no,” Beth started slowly, eyes widening in realization. “So this, then sixteen years old girl–”

“Seventeen,” Marinette cut in with a smile, looking back toward Beth when Lila averted her eyes. “Her mother is an ambassador, or so she says, and she had to retake a year in middle school when they moved to France.”

“Seventeen years old girl,” she corrected, one hand moving to hide her mouth. “Made her whole school believe that she had a… ‘steamy affair’ with a thirteen years old?”

“Yep,” Marinette said, popping the p cheerfully. She really shouldn’t get that much entertainment from this situation.

“Isn’t it statutory rape or something?” Beth asked thoughtfully, looking back toward where Lila was (probably) spinning lies to Alya and Sophie. Ah, Jeremy and Lisa just joined them, great. They were just the biggest gossip of the class, no big deal. Sighing internally, Marinette resigned herself to the looks and remarks the class was going to throw at her for the next day, at least.

“I don’t know, but it sure as hell is morally dubious for the great majority of people,” Marinette replied, looking back toward Beth. “And she knows it, that’s why she is laying her foundations.”

They stayed silent for a minute, Beth looking toward the rest of her classmates, and Marinette looking down at her sketchbook absently. She was trying very hard to not think about the feeling of betrayal she felt, knowing Nino babbled about all the things she told him in confidence when they were kids.

He didn’t know about Jason, nobody knew besides Alix, the Kwamis, and her sisters-in-arms in Themyscira. And Marinette was relieved to know that that, at least, was not something Lila would use against her, but he knew about her mom, about Mei.

And it made Marinette indescribably angry to know that he told Lila all about it without a second thought.

“What did she mean,” Beth started quietly, turning her head to look at her with a worried expression. “When she said that she knew all about your past?”

“It’s not–” She started, her words getting stuck in her throat, the memories of Lila’s words turning the adults in her life against her replaying in her mind, taunting her. “I’m not– I didn’t do–”

“Oh, hon,” Beth breathed quietly, turning completely toward her and squeezing one of her shoulders reassuringly. “I’m not worried about you, honey. I’m worried for you.”

Marinette looked at the other woman for a moment, her eyes searching for the lie in her eyes, but found nothing but honest worry.

“I grew up on Camelia Street,” she said, looking straight into the woman’s eyes. “I was seven when my mother died, and I lived in the streets for three years after that.”

Marinette’s eyes didn’t move from Beth’s, trying to see if the woman would be put off by that, or worse, pity her, but she saw nothing but understanding and sympathy.

“I grew up in Crime Alley, kid,” she told her with one corner of her mouth up in a smile. “It’s not the same, I’m not saying it is, but it’s close enough. I’m not going to judge you, or pity you, for surviving this life.”

“I–” She choked out, blinking away tears she didn’t want to let out, before breathing deeply, a small, grateful smile on her lips. “Thank you.”

“No problem, kid,” Beth told her with a knowing smile, lightly hitting her arm with her fist, before looking back toward Lila. “What are you going to do about her?”

“Me? Nothing,” Marinette said, grateful for the switch in topic. “But we are touring Gotham Academy tomorrow morning, so this is bound to get entertaining real soon.”

“Really?” Beth turned toward her, both eyebrows slightly raised in surprise. “But wait, your teacher said something about you being behind the majority of the organization. Isn’t she going to find a way to blame you?”

“Probably,” Marinette said, shrugging her shoulders, starting to put her sketchbook back in her bag when she saw the scientists getting ready to leave. “But, like I told her, I’m not ashamed of my childhood.”

“Ok, alright,” Beth said, straightening from her slumping position against the wall, before nodding toward Marinette’s sketchbook, still halfway out of her bag. “Can I?”

“Um… Yeah?” She said slowly, giving it curiously, startling when Beth took the pencil too.

“Here,” she said after scrawling something on a blank page. “It’s my number, and Susan’s, too, she would kill me if I didn’t give it to you. If you need something, and I mean anything, you call. If you want to talk, or even just the address for the best burgers in town? You call, alright?”

“I– Yeah. Yes,” she said softly, taking back the sketchbook from Beth, swallowing the lump in her throat and feeling like a broken record, she choked out, “thank you.”

“No problem, kid.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beth day hadn’t been as awful as she had feared it would be. Granted, she had more ibuprofen than blood in her veins at the moment, and the thirty minutes longue lecture the teacher gave her about her ‘inexcusable’ lateness had been painful, but it could have been worse.

The kids had calmed down as soon as the tour began, and they’d all seemed genuinely interested. Besides a couple of giggling here and there, and the incident with Miss Rossi at the end, the tour had actually been relatively smooth.

Entering the staff room on the sixth floor, like usual, to fix herself a cup of coffee for the road, she was only half-surprised to see Susan waiting for her there.

“Hey, babe,” Susan said with a smile, giving her a kiss and a cup of coffee already ready. “How were the kids?”

“Hey,” she breathed out, gratefully grabbing the coffee. “Better than expected, all things considered.”

“Yeah? It’s great. Surprising, but great,” Susan said with a smile, and Beth only hummed her agreement as Susan guided her toward the couch. “And what about the kid? Marinette?”

“She was…” She started, a frown taking place on her face, trying to find a way to word it. “She is–”

“Elizabeth,” a voice cut her from the doorway, and both Susan and Beth turned toward it, only to be surprised by Sofia’s presence in the doorway. Not many things would bring Sofia on the sixth floor. “I was looking for you, I was afraid I missed you. You were in charge of today’s tour, weren’t you?”

“Um, yeah,” she blinked slowly, before remembering. “Oh, that’s right, I saw you with Marinette at lunch! Do you know the kid?”

“We met for the first time today,” Sofia said, grabbing a chair and dragging it in front of the couche, before sitting down. “But I helped her put together her class’ activities in Gotham for the week. She is a really sweet kid.”

“Literal sugar,” Beth said with a nod and a fond smile. “We talked quickly toward the end of the tour, did you know that she grew up in Gotham?”

“Really? That kind of explains the weird accent,” Susan said thoughtfully.

“That’s what Mr Drake said, too,” Sofia said with a chuckle, making the couple look at her with surprise.

“Mr Drake met her?” Susan asked with surprise.

“Yes,” Sofia said with a roll of her eyes. “The kid was curious about her.”

Sofia was probably the only person, beside Mr Wayne and Mr Fox, who could call Mr Drake ‘kid’ and get away with it.

“Did she talk about her classmates with Mr Drake?” Beth asked, really curious about it. In Marinette’s shoes, she probably would have talked about Lila’s lies with Mr Drake at the first chance she got. “Someone called Lila?”

“No?” Both Sofia and Susan turned to look at her curiously in synchronization, and Beth hid her smile by taking a sip of coffee. “Why would she?”

“I’m pretty sure that this Lila is bullying Marinette, if not directly, at least by keeping her isolated,” Beth started, her eyebrows pinching at the thought. “And, apparently, the girl was also not shy about her supposed affair with one of Mr Wayne’s sons, two years ago.”

“Did she claim to have had an affair with Mr Drake two years ago?” Sofia asked her, clearly unimpressed. “The poor kid had not even enough time to eat, two years ago, let alone starting an affair.”

“Oh no, not Mr Drake,” Beth said slowly, enjoying that way too much.

“Who? Mr Thomas?” Susan asked, searching Beth’s expression. “Mr Grayson?! She did not imply that Mr Grayson had been unfaithful with a minor, did she?!

“Damian Wayne,” Beth told them before taking a long sip of her drink, letting the two shocked women process that information. “She told her whole school she slept with Damian Wayne, and, from what I understood, the vast majority believed her.”

“She… did not,” Susan said slowly, her mouth continuing to open and close, like she wanted to add something, but didn’t know what.

“Young Mr Wayne was thirteen, two years ago,” Sofia's voice was flat, her face blank, and Beth abruptly remembered that Sofia had a kid around this age. Uh oh. “How old is this girl? What is her name again? I need to let Mr Drake know about her.”

“Her name is Lila Rossi, she is around nineteen, she was seventeen when she told her story, from what Marinette said,” Beth gladly informed Sofia, if Marinette wasn’t going to throw Lila to the wolves, she was going to do it for her without any remorse.

“How the hell did people believe her?!” Susan exclaimed with disbelief, flailing her hands around. “Do french teenagers often hook up with thirteen years old kids?!”

“I don’t know!” She said with a shrug, still not totally over her shock herself. “Apparently, people conveniently forgot about his age. I’m as shocked as you are, but the girl has a nasty habit of lying, from what Marinette said. Though, Lila herself was quite shocked by the fact that Mr Wayne was fifteen, when I told her.”

“This is unbelievable,” Sofia muttered with a shake of her head.

“But wait,” Susan said suddenly, turning toward Beth again. “If Lila is bullying Marinette, why didn’t she say anything to Mr Drake when she had the occasion?”

“I don’t think the kid wants to be in the middle of things when they blow over,” Beth said with a shrug. “Because they will blow over, with the class in Gotham.”

“That made sense, this girl could retaliate if she thinks Marinette has anything to do with it,” Sofia said thoughtfully, then her lips curled into a little smile that made Beth feel equally scared and gleeful. “Thankfully, Marinette isn’t the one that brought this to my attention and, therefore, Mr Drake’s.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tada! We got three card-carrying members of the Marinette Protection Squad™! I didn’t think I could love OCs this much when I started writing this, but I literally love Beth so much, you don’t even know! The other too, of course. But, I don’t know, there is something about Beth…¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also, about Lila’s age. Speaking from personal experiences (mine, and of the people around me) French middle school makes you retake the whole year if you get there in the middle of the year. They don’t care if you moved from another country or just another city, they put you in the year under. (My little sister had too, when we moved in december, a boy in my school when he came around february etc…) All that to say, I made Lila a year older than Marinette & Co, because it’s honestly the only thing that makes sense (why the hell would they let her skip months of school like that????)

#maribat #mlb x dc #gothamite marinette #street kid marinette #platonic jasonette #eventual timari #lila rossi salt maribat #alya salt maribat #a literal /dash/ of nino salt #it's more thoughtless actions from his part tho #still not cool but

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m0etenchandon · 5 years

Text

First birthdays (reader x Gwilym Lee)

Pairing: Reader x Gwilym Lee Warnings: fluff I guess, some language, brief sexual suggestions but no smut Requested by anon: Could u do a Gwilym fanfic about your daughters first birthday and celebration with the boh rhap cast? I love ur writing ❤️ A/N: This idea is so cute, but I feel like I have read it before so many times so I´m just going to write a little blurb here. Side note, thank you for 800 followers! You are the best<3 Wordcount: 1.5 K

Masterlist

“Darling, you have to calm down”, Gwilym said, taking a step towards you stressed figure. He locked his beautiful blue eyes with yours, snaking his hands around your waist and pulling you close. His presence immediately calmed you, making you drop the balloon you were trying to tie off. All the air went out of it as it flew around the room and settles at your feet. Your husband smiled, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek. “It´s amazing, you´ve done such a good job. Everyone will love it, Sophia will love it, I promise”, he said, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your waiting lips. You let out a breath you didn´t know you were holding in, letting your body melt completely into his warm touch.

“I know, but our little girl only turns one once”, you said as you pulled away. Gwilym hummed, starting to sway your bodies to an imaginary beat as he tightened his arms around you. “And besides, it´s really fun”

You had been planning her birthday for months, making sure every little detail was perfect. You had the food ordered and ready on the tables, the cute decorations filling your living-room, and your backyard filled with toys as there would be other kids present as well. Of course, you had also put out some beverages for the adults along with copious amounts of juice boxes.

“You know”, Gwilym started, running his fingers up and down your spine, “we could do this all over again if we had another one”

You pulled back enough to catch his eyes, watching them fill with love and hope. He was nervous, his teeth instinctively biting down on his lips, anxiously waiting for a reply to his blunt proposal.

“You want more?”, you asked, heart fluttering as you watched his face break out into a grin.

“I want hundreds of kids with you, darling”, he beamed, leaning down to catch your lips with his. “But I´ll settle for a few more”

You were just about to reply when you heard the door-bell go off, followed by your daughter crying just seconds later. Both you and Gwilym simultaneously sighed before letting an exhausted giggle fall from your mouths. Your hands slid down his chest as you stepped away from his embrace.

“I´ll get her, you answer the door”, Gwilym said, squeezing your hand before disappearing up the stars. Leaving you to ponder his proposal all alone. He wanted more kids, and he wanted them now.

“Y/N, hi!”, Joe yelled as you opened the door. He was almost completely hidden behind a giant teddy bear, his face barely poking out over its shoulder. You raised your eyebrows in shock, already wondering how the hell you were going to fit that in her room.

“Joe, that is one giant ass teddy bear”

“Only the best for my favorite god-daughter”

“You´re not her god-father”, you giggled, leading him into the living room. He, Ben and Rami had all claimed the position when they found out you were pregnant. However, to stop their constant fighting and bickering, you chose one of Gwilym´s older brothers. But they still thought of themselves as uncles.

“Not on paper no.. speaking off, where is the little bugger?”

Joe had just finished his sentence as Gwilym appeared around the corner, your daughter on his hips. She looked grumpy from her nap, but her little mouth immediately broke into a grin as she saw her favorite uncle Joey. That and the giant bear he was holding. In fact, it might just have been the teddy.

The house got more and more crowded as people arrived, your feet working in overdrive as you tried to tidy up and make sure there was enough food. Thankfully, Ben and Joe had taken your daughter off your hands. They were currently sat on the floor, taking turns in trying to make her laugh. A smile crept its way onto your mouth as you watched them make absolute fools of themselves.

“Guys, you´re going to scare her”, Rami said as he watched Joe pull a ridiculous face at your daughter.

“You´re just jealous she likes me more than you”, Joe answered, sticking his tongue out at him. Which your daughter apparently found hilarious, cracking an almost tooth-less smile at him as she clapped her little hands.

“You know I´m her favorite, just look”, Rami said, moving from his place beside Lucy to kneel next to Joe and Ben. He reached his hands out, his eyes lighting up as your daughter moved towards him immediately. “Hah! See, she loves me”, he cooed, hugging her to his body.

The three boys kept fighting for your daughter´s attention as you leant against the wall, watching with a huge smile on your face. She was adored by them all, and it made you so happy. Made you want to have another one you realized, your eyes falling on your husband, engulfed in a conversation with your parents across the room. His hands moved as he explained something, they always did when he was passionate about the conversation. That along with rubbing his beard, an action that always made the butterflies in your stomach go wild. He truly was the love of your life, but you were unsure of the timing.

“What are you thinking about, Y/N?”, a voice asked, pulling you from your stare. You snapped your head around to see Ben, holding out a glass of wine in front of him. You gladly took it, bringing it to your lips to take a sip.

“Just something me and Gwilym talked about earlier”, you said, trying to brush it off. Ben seemed to have other thoughts though, raising a bushy eyebrow your way.

“Y/N”, he warned, reaching out to poke your side, a giggle falling from your mouth. You had accidentally let it slip one of the first times you hung out that you were ticklish, and now he used it as leverage every time he didn’t get his way.

“Ugh fine, please don´t tickle me Ben”, you pleaded, taking another sip of your wine. It burned slightly as it slid down your throat. “Gwil told me he wanted more kids today”

Ben´s eyes went wide, almost choking on his wine.

“Really?”, he asked, his gaze falling on Gwilym for a split second. “How do you feel about it?”

“I don´t know really. I want more kids, I really do, but Sophia is still so young”

“Yeah, but it would still take at least 9 months. And that´s if Gwilym still has some spunk left in his junk at his old age”, Ben said, a grin forming on his mouth.

“Last time it didn´t take long, so I´m pretty sure he does”, you laughed. Gwilym had a ridiculous drive when you had started trying to get pregnant, going at it whenever and wherever you could. The thought made a slight tingle start in your lower stomach, a flush creeping onto your cheeks.

“Geez I don’t need the details, Y/N!”, Ben said, pretending to gag at the thought. You rolled your eyes, punching his chest.

“No but seriously, if you need a baby-sitter to, you know, get some alone time, I´m more than willing to take Sophia off your hands for a few hours”, he offered, shooting you a crooked smile before heading back to the other boys still sat on the floor.

“Well I think that was a success! Great job, darling”, Gwilym said as you returned from putting your daughter to sleep. He was tidying up the remains of plates with cake leftovers on them. “Sophia had the best birthday she could ever wish for”

You smiled, your shoulders finally relaxing from finally being alone with the man you loved. Gwilym opened his arms, letting you fall into his embrace. You buried your head into his chest, enjoying the feeling of his heart-beat against your cheek. He leant down and pressed a kiss to your head, wrapping his arms around you. His body warm against yours.

“It´s all worth it seeing that smile on her face”, you mumbled, hooking your thumbs into the waistline of Gwilym´s pants. He smirked against your head, knowing what that movement usually leads too.

“You know Ben offered to baby-sit her so we could have some alone time”, you teased, letting your fingers run over the top of his clothed behind.

“Oh really? Then I guess I´ll give him a call in the morning to arrange it. We need a date-night, darling”

“I don´t want to wait until tomorrow though”, you whined, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze. His eyes were darker than last time, a smug look on his chiseled face.

“Hmm, I´m sure Sophia will be asleep in a few minutes”, he teased, winking as he pulled you closer to his body.

“Gwilym, I´ve been thinking about what you said earlier, and I really want to have another baby”, you said, watching as his eyes widened in realization.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I love you and I want more mini us”, you said, placing a kiss on his lips.

“Fuck a baby into me, Mr. Lee”, you teased. The seductive tone in your voice vent straight to his crotch, his hips pushing against yours as a whine left his lips.

“Your wish is my command, Mrs. Lee”

Masterlist

I don´t know if I should tag people because it´s so short and not what I usually write, but I´m going to do it anyway sorry not sorry

Taglist is open. I will add/remove you if you comment you want to, but I won’t reply (this is a side blog). If you want me to reply, send me an ask.

#my writing #gwilym lee #gwilym x reader #gwilym lee imagine #gwil x reader #gwilym lee fluff #bohrap #bohrap imagines #borhap blurb #gwilym lee blurb #gwilym lee fic #fan fiction #borhap fic #borhap fluff #queen #borhap imagine #borhap boys

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