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destielstuffandthings · 4 years

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Detention Confessions

For the wonderful @lillycopen548. Thank you for the request and sorry it look so long to get this out! Quarantine isn’t as easy breezy as I thought it was going to be, but here it is!

Summary: Teenage Dean is a year older than Cas and is constantly picking on. Little do they know, they had a crush on each other the whole time.

Fic and gif under the cut

He doesn’t really know why he does it.

Ok, maybe that’s a lie. He knows. He just doesn’t want to admit it. Seeing that damn black mess of hair slinking down the hallway every. single. day. is really starting to piss Dean off.

Who does he think he is? With his stupidly blue eyes and ridiculously over packed book bag full of what just happens to be Dean’s favorite books.

Seriously. It’s infuriating.

That’s why Dean finds himself here, in the dirt, on top of Castiel freaking Novak, punching him in the face.

His friends are crowded around them so the teachers can’t see, but they can definitely hear their yelling.

Mid swing Dean noticed how nice Castiel’s complexion is and feels bad marring it with cuts and bruises. But hey, he’s an emotionally repressed sixteen year old in Kansas. What else is there to do but beat up the nerd in school?

He feels a rough hand grip the back of his neck and is lifted into the air. He watches as Castiel sighs in relief when the rest of Dean’s friends scatter like cockroaches when Principal Shurley drags Dean off to his office.

Cas lays there, breathing heavily as he stares up at the afternoon sky. He brings a dirty hand up to his face to inspect his wounds. Thankfully Dean only got a few solid punches in before Chuck broke up the fight. His eyebrow was bleeding and his cheek hurt, but nothing felt broken. He was glad his bully usually left his mouth alone because what’s worse than a swollen lip?

Oh yeah. Parents.

“Castiel!”

The boy groaned as he stood, brushing the dirt and grass off his pants. “I’m fine,” he lied.

A tug on his back pack swung him in a circle and was forced to meet his mothers eye line. “You absolutely are not fine. Who did this to you? Was it Dean? I’ll kick his little----” The redhead glared around the school yard.

“Mom, please. Can we not make a scene? I just want to go home. Mr. Shurley handled it. He’s in with Dean right now.”

The minute those words came out of his mouth he regretted it.

“Is he now? Come on.”

If getting beaten in front of the school wasn’t humiliating enough, Castiel’s mother dragging him by the shirt to the principals office did the trick. His mother shoved the door of Chuck’s office open and her eyes landed on Dean slumped in the chair.

Chuck hung his head and groaned. “Hello, Mrs. Bradbury. I can only guess what you’re here about.” He motioned for her to sit in the chair next to Dean. “I already called. His mother will be here soon.”

Castiel swallowed hard as he watched Dean glare at him from his seat. Even though he was staring daggers, Castiel couldn’t help but map out the freckles on his bully’s face. His narrowed eyes barely showed the bright green color that usually radiated from them.

“This really isn’t necessary, mom,” Castiel whispered and tugged on her arm. “Please. Let’s just go.”

“No. I’m sick and tired of my boy coming home bloody and bruised!” She turned to Dean and pointed a sharp finger at him. “I swear to God if you even look at him again I’ll---”

“You’ll what?” a voice asked from the doorway. Dean shrunk even farther into his seat and lowered his head.

“Mrs. Winchester. Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Chuck said calmly.

Mary looked around the room and when she laid her eyes on Castiel she gasped.

“Oh, damn it,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She nodded tersely at whatever she was thinking and looked at Chuck. “Do whatever you think is best. Detention, expulsion. I don’t care. Nothing I do seems to get into his thick skull,” she reached out and smacked Dean in the back of the head, “so maybe he’ll listen to you.”

Charlie let out a humorless laugh and Castiel tried to make himself as small as possible.

“Detention it is. A full week.” Chuck scribbled on a pink piece of paper and handed it to Dean who snatched it out of his hand. He balled it up and stuffed it in his oversized leather jacket.

“That’s it? He beats my child every day and he gets a weeks worth of detention?”

“Mom, please---”

“Unless you plan to press charges that’s the best I can do,” Chuck sighed.

Dean’s head whipped to Castiel with wide, scared eyes.

“No! No of course not. Detention is fine, let’s just go,” Castiel begged as he pulled his mother out of the room.

~*~*~*~*~*~

MONDAY

Just because Dean got detention didn’t mean the bullying stopped. It never worked before, why should this time be any different?

Castiel was “accidentally” slammed against his locker twice and had his books knocked out of his hand on his way to science.

Tuesday

Someone (three guesses who) stole Cas’ clothes out of his gym locker so he was forced to wear his PE clothes, which consisted of shorts and a white tank top, for the rest of the day. He seemed to catch Dean staring at him a lot more than usual. It didn’t seem to have the same “I’m going to pummel you into the ground” heat as before.

Wednesday

The pool was where all Castiel’s worries were washed away. He lived for Wednesday and Friday swim practices. For one, he didn’t have to leave the school the same time Dean and his friends did. Two, flying through the water and timing his breaths gave him something else to focus on. No Dean. No gorgeous green eyes staring down at him as his face was busted up. No stolen glances across the cafeteria that made Cas feel like he was on fire and melting from the inside out. Just peaceful, quiet water to soothe away his worries

Thursday

“Crap.” Castiel sighed as he watched Dean stalk up to him. He closed his eyes and braced for impact.

“You swim?”

Castiel peeked one eye open and frowned. “What?”

Dean huffed and looked over his shoulder at his friends who were gathered by their lockers. “I said, do you swim? Like, on the team.”

“Y-yes.” He gripped his back pack tightly in front of him, hoping to shield whatever blow was coming.

Dean looked at the floor and scuffed a black mark into the marble tile. “K. Bye,” he said a little too loudly and awkwardly before spinning on his heel and making his way back to his crowd.

“What the fuck...”

Friday

Castiel finished pulling on his swimming cap as he walked out into the pool area. It was quieter than usual. No water lapping at the floors, no whistle blowing to signal the start of a race. Just, silence.

He looked around the room and saw three kids sitting on the bleachers. Two were making out and the other was Dean, already staring at Castiel.

A lump formed in his throat as he walked to the coach’s office, only to find it locked. A sign on the door said “Practice is rescheduled for Monday” in bright purple letters.

“Shit,” Castiel breathed out.

“Didn’t get the memo?”

Chills ran up Cas’ spine as he heard Dean’s boots stomp across the wet tile towards him. He walked quickly to the locker room, avoiding the trios gaze, but Dean caught the handle before he could open it. Feeling Dean’s breath on the back of his neck send goosebumps across his skin and he shivered.

Dean huffed a laugh through his nose and watched the boy in front of him shake. “S’matter? Those little Speedo’s not keeping you warm?” he purred.

“Leave me alone, Dean.” Castiel’s hand shoved at the door but Dean caught his wrist and held it gently.

Turning his head over his shoulder, Dean whistled through his teeth. The kissing couple came up for air just long enough to see Dean hook his thumb towards the door before getting off the bleachers. The door echoed loudly as it slammed shut behind them.

“So, what’s it going to be this time?” Castiel’s voice shook as he spoke. “You plan on drowning me or just waterboarding?” Dean let go of his wrist and frowned. Castiel turned around and glared at the boy behind him. “Well? Either get on with it or I need to change.”

Swallowing hard, Dean lifted his eyes to Castiel’s.

“I thought maybe--” Dean picked at his fingers nervously.

“What? You thought what? You’d come here and torment me endlessly? No one’s around, Dean, just get it over with. I have homework to do.”

Dean looked like he was punched in the stomach. His sad eyes lowered to the ground as he took a deep breath.

“I thought maybe you could teach me how to swim,” he rushed out. He brushed a hand through his hair and sighed. “I uh, never learned how and my brother wants to go to the pool this summer. Mom’s never around so I gotta take him and---yeah.”

Castiel’s eyes went wide. “Ok,” he said without thinking.

Dean’s mouth lifted into a grin before he cleared his throat and frowned. “Yeah? I mean, I get it if you don’t want---”

“No! No I do. I will,” he rushed out as he raised his hands. “Do you have trunks? Or shorts? Anything like that will be fine.”

Dean glanced towards the locker room. “I uh, gym shorts?”

Castiel nodded. “Yeah, ok. Um, go change and I’ll start warming up.”

Dean beamed a smile and his eyes lit up. “Ok.”

~*~*~*~

Castiel surfaced for air and shook the water from his face. He glanced towards the locker room and his breath caught in his throat when he watched Dean walk towards the pool. He waded towards the ladder and waited for Dean to make his way down in, shivering when his bare chest breached the water.

He folded his arms over his chest and scowled. “So, what now?”

Castiel stood in the shallows with his bully silently for a minute before deciding what to do.

“Ok, first thing we can do is see if you can float.” He backed up to give Dean room and laid his hands on top of the water. “All you have to do is lay on the surface of the water.”

Dean huffed. “Easy.” He leaned back into the water and attempted to lift his legs off the bottom of the pool. His head dunked backwards before he righted himself and coughed harshly into the water. “Maybe not.”

“Some people can’t get it right away, it’s alright. Here.” Castiel reached out and rested his hand on the back of Deans neck. Dean went still at the touch, his jaw clenching. “It’s alright,” Castiel reassured with a small smile. “This way your head won’t go under. Lift your legs.”

Dean took a deep breath and leaned backwards, smiling when he felt his legs begin to float.

“Good,” Castiel smiled. “I’m gonna let go now and you---”

“No!” Dean’s hand shot out and gripped Cas’ free hand. “Not, uh---not yet. Lemme get used to it for a minute.”

“Alright, Dean.” Castiel let his fingers drift through the short hairs on the back of Dean’s neck. He looked down and didn’t recognize the boy in his arms. His eyes were closed and his eyelashes rested gently on his upper cheeks. A soft smile crossed his face when Castiel moved them into deeper water, gently swaying him in his arms.

“Ok?” Castiel asked quietly.

“Yeah, m’ready.”

“Good, because I’ve already let go.”

Dean’s eyes shot open and his arms flailed to the sides. “Cas!”

“It’s ok, I’m right here. You’re already doing it Dean, just stay calm.”

Dean took gulping breaths until he stilled in the water. “Ok, ok. Fuck. Ok, I think I got it. What now?” he asked nervously.

“Now,” Castiel laid on his back and floated next to Dean, “raise an arm above your head and swipe it back down towards your body. Kick your feet while you do it.” He mimicked his words and showed Dean what to do.

~*~*~*~

Thirty minutes later, Dean was swimming the length of the pool under water.

“You’re a fast learner,” Castiel panted as he tread water.

Dean licked his lips and smiled. “I had a good teacher.”

Castiel nodded as his forehead creased. The question was hanging in the damp air and Castiel couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Dean, why do you bully me?” he asked quietly.

Kicking his legs, Dean swam closer to Castiel. He sighed heavily, watching it ripple the water. “Because I’m a fucking idiot.”

Castiel snorted and looked up through his lashes at the boy in front of him. “I know how you look at me when you think I can’t see you,” he whispered. “I just want to know why.”

Dean reached out and slipped his finger under Cas’ swimming cap and lifted it off before tossing it on the side of the pool. “Every time I see you walking towards me, my heart stops.” He ran a finger up Cas’ cheek softly and smiled. “Your eyes are so fucking intense they make me wanna look away, but I can’t. They’re the most beautiful color I’ve ever seen.” He sighed quietly and ran his fingers through the boys hair as he looked into his eyes. “You drive me crazy and it pisses me off.”

Castiel felt himself being pulled through the water and was met with warm skin. Dean’s wet hand cupped Cas’ cheek before he leaned in and kissed him. He worked his mouth over Cas’, gently running his tongue across his bottom lip before sucking it gently into his mouth.

“I hate you because I like you, Cas. Like, really like you,” he whispered against the boys mouth.

Castiel felt heat rise in his cheeks as he smiled. “I really like you too, Dean,” he said before pulling Dean in for another kiss.

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coffeecomicsgalore · 4 years

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Golden Boy’s Cursed Day

Coming at you with a crack fic that popped into my head today.

Poor Mr. Golden Sunshine Boy is just having the unluckiest day ever.

Ao3

Adrien, Mr. Golden Sunshine Boy, Paris’s elite teen supermodel, super fan of the amazing Ladybug, would be considered to have all the luck in the world. He’s rich, famous, has whatever he could desire. Yeah, sure, that’s what everyone who lives outside the picket fence would say and Adrien being the composed fool that he is emits the aura of good luck. But today? Today? Well, let’s just pretend that the word ‘luck’ decided it needed to be on the other side of Paris, hiding its face from the golden ball of sunshine.

Strike that. Luck was on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean pointing and laughing hysterically at him while the dark clouds decided to hover over his head pouring all the possible rain it could from its body.

Today, he was the epitome of bad luck and the cackling of the little god of destruction did not help his mood. Nope, not one bit.

It all started early this morning when an akuma disrupted the one hour of sleep that he got in between photo shoots, lessons, and homework. It was a particularly hard one, spending most of their waking moments defeating it.

When Adrien finally got to bed, he closed his eyes only for his alarm to go off five minutes after settling his head in the comfiest position on the bed, reminding him that it was time to get himself ready with his early morning prep. But instead of getting up like he should have, he decided to hit the snooze button for another 10 minutes of rest and ultimately fell into a deep sleep.

So deep in fact, that he didn’t hear the knock on the door reminding him it was time to get up.

Or the knock when it was time to eat his breakfast.

Or the knock when it was time to exit his room and head to the car and head to school.

Finally, a nudge under his rib stirred him enough to open his sleep filled eyes. When his eyes finally cleared of the blurriness, he noticed a dark figure hovering above him, scaring him into a frenzied panic. Without thinking, he threw a punch into the figure’s general direction and ended up almost punching the figure, who was coincidentally Nathalie, in the face (luckily, she was able to dodge most of the force, only being grazed with a knuckle against her cheekbone) but the sheer panic caused him to fall off the bed before falling on the floor and clutching his chest in a heaving mess.

He finally got to school, an hour later than normal, missing homeroom completely, and entered his first class halfway through an unplanned physics test. Groaning over the luck, he got to work on completing what he could, only being able to complete half of it in the time frame. Well I can at least get a 50%, he thought, but when the teacher announced that it was a peer review exam, he got his test back shortly after realizing he used all the wrong formulas and getting a 0 on the exam.

Shit.

Grumbling to himself, he tried to take a sip of his purple soda when Ivan accidentally knocked into him, coating his white over shirt in a wet, purple mess. At least it wouldn’t be seen on his black top. Looking down, he noticed that his pants took some of the spill and a wet spot in the worst possible place could be seen. It didn’t help that his longtime friend decided that she had embarrass him further when she ran up to him, giggling in her own snarky yet friendly demeanor with a “Adrikins! You couldn’t make it the bathroom? Utterly ridiculous, even for you.”

He could feel his skin burning from both embarrassment and festering anger, but he just took a deep breath and headed to the locker room to change in another set of clothes. Luckily, he had an extra set in his locker just in case. Can’t have the face of the brand’ be covered in crap, he thought with an eye roll.

By French class, he realized he left his homework on his desk at home and couldn’t pass it in. Muttering a passable excuse, the teacher sympathized with him and opted to give him half-credit if he brings it in the next day. Now he just had to remember it to stuff it in his bag and bring it in.

By PE, he was already annoyed and feeling the pressure of the dark cloud hovering over him that he didn’t see the dodge ball being hurled in his direction. Kim had planned a surprise attack on Alix, but Adrien happened to walk into the line of fire.

Adrien startled himself awake and realized he was no longer in the gymnasium. He noticed the stark white room of the nurse's office and noticed a very worried Marinette sitting quietly beside him. One hand was holding his hand closest to her, while the other was holding something cold that was pressed against his face.

Marinette smiled when she noticed him awake and shushed him sweetly calming down the nerves that plagued his mind.

“You happened to take a bad hit from a dodge ball and was knocked out from the impact.” She removed the ice pack from his face to assess the damage. Placing the ice pack back on his eye, she continued. “I carried you here.” Great. Just great. This amazing, petite girl who shouldn’t be physically able to carry his dead weight around, carried his unconscious body to the nurse's office. What’s next, world? Seriously, what’s next?

It didn’t take him long to realize what was next. Now sporting a black eye and a cut lip, Adrien walked into the next class where an upper classman decided to place a kick me sign on the back of his shirt. How did he know it was there? When another classmate decided to buckle his knee from behind and then steal his chair as he tried to sit down in his seat.

If an akuma was around, there would be no stopping him being akumatized.

Just get me now, Hawkmoth! He yelled in his head.

As if the world decided to throw him another wrench, the school announcement system startled the students. “Akuma! Please exit the classroom in an orderly fashion.”

What. The. Fuck.

Another difficult akuma. Another of him being controlled by said akuma. Ladybug having to fight most of the battle alone, and luckily, just luckily , Alya had captured the battle on a live feed. Adrien couldn’t ignore the crushing weight in his mind, so he watched the replay to try to ease it only to have a front row viewing of all the hateful things Chat Noir said towards Ladybug.

Great. Just keep it coming.

His father had magically allowed Adrien to stay at school for lunch. Nothing else had happened since the akuma was defeated, so maybe his luck was returning? He was happily talking to Nino as the two walked towards the table where Alya and Marinette were sitting at. Adrien didn’t pay attention to his surroundings and barely registered the Adrien! Wait! coming from Marinette’s mouth before slipping on something and falling flat on his back, the entire contents of his tray falling on top of him.

The entire lunchroom went dead silent as he placed the tray on his head hoping to hide from the embarrassment.

That’s where the day had brought him, hiding under the tray thinking back to the entirety of the day and how his luck brought him to this very moment. He wanted to shrivel up and phase into the floor, just like Plagg usually does when he needs to hide from the world.

When he heard Nino, Alya, and Marinette surround him, he moved the tray slightly to peak at them with one eyeball and then told them he was hiding there until the end of the day. Marinette removed the tray, Nino picked him up off the floor, and Alya started to grab napkins to help clean up whatever was caked on his face.

Looking at the mess of the floor, he didn’t notice Marinette whispering something in Alya’s ear, or the nod Alya gave in return, but he did hear Marinette taking in a heavy breath before grabbing Adrien’s hand and pulling him with her out of the school.

“Marinette? Where are you taking me?”

“You’re coming to my house. I have a set of clothes that you can have and you can use my shower to get cleaned up. You won’t have time to go home and do any of that and I only live right across the street.”

Not even thinking, the dreaded words rushed out of his mouth. “You sure like to help out stray cats when they need it most, huh princess?”

Marinette stopped dead in her tracks and took one look at him with the ferocity of Ladybug’s before he realized what came out of his mouth.

What the fuck times a million.

Marinette closed her eyes, took in a heavy breath, and smiled at him in such a scary way that Adrien wished he could cataclysm the ground and swallow himself whole.

Ladybug was going to kill him. No. Not just kill. Murder him in the worst possible way and then bury his body deep into the ground where no one would be able to find him. He was dead. So dead. Goodbye Plagg. I hope the newest Chat Noir will be good to him and give him as much cheese as he wants and-

“Silly kitty.” Marinette said as she tugged him back along across the street. She said it in such a sweet way that it pulled Adrien out of his thoughts. “Let’s go get you cleaned up and I will feed you to your heart’s content. And I’ll bring up a cheese danish for Plagg too.”

Wait, she wasn’t shocked? She’s not mad that I spilled my secret identity to her? Or freaking out that I’m the cat that keeps showing up to her balcony... Wait. Plagg? She knew who Plagg was? How does she know Plagg? His eyes shot open. “Marinette? Are you-? You know-?”

Marinette turned around quickly and placed her finger to his lips. “Not here, not now, and yes.”

Adrien.exe has stopped working.

He didn’t remember walking through the bakery doors. Or saying hello to Marinette’s parents. Or being shoved into her bathroom with a new shirt, pants, socks, and boxers (note to ask her later why she has clothes his size). Only when the cold water started hitting his face was when he realized where he was.

Walking back towards her kitchen was when Adrien noticed Marinette finished up scooping a plate of dumplings from the pot on the stove. He sat down and quietly gave his thanks as she handed him the meal. He didn’t want to look up at her, but he knew the inevitable question needed to be said. He knew there was no way around this. He blurted out his identity and per the rules...

“Are you going to tell me I need to give up my miraculous now that I’ve given away my identity?” He said sadly as he moved the dumplings around in his bowl. Marinette looked up at him without saying a word. “I’m sorry My L- Marinette. I never meant to blurt it out. It just happened out of nowhere! This day was the day from hell and I wasn’t even thinking and now that you’re the guardian, I know you like the rules, and... and... at least let me say goodbye to Plagg first!”

Marinette set her spoon down carefully and folded her hands on her lap. “I’m not going to take your Miraculous from you. You slipped. It was an accident, a dumb one at that, but at least you said it to the one person who understands and won’t make a fuss about it.”

Oh.

“Plus, do you think that I could replace you? My kitty and my best friend, the two boys that I care the most about in this world is sitting in front of me as one person. I couldn’t replace you in my life even if I tried – which I won’t by the way.” She picked her spoon back up and started to gather some broth before taking a sip. “This is fine. I’m fine. You’re fine. We are fine.”

Adrien furrowed his brows as he watched her in an eerily composed state. “Marinette, I know you. Why aren’t you freaking out?”

“Oh, I’m freaking out. Badly. But I’m internalizing it until later when I can scream into my pillow.” She said with a smile. “Right now, I just want to make sure you are fed and that we get back to class without another clothing change.”

Adrien let out a breath that he was holding in. “Okay. Maybe my luck is turning around now. I have my lady and my best friend sitting in front of me. You gave me clothes and carried me-” Adrien turned bright red. “Now I know why you were able to carry me to the nurse's office! You don’t look as strong as you are. I bet everyone else said the same thing!”

“Yup. Plus, you were saying some adorable things while you were knocked out. Something about Ladybug and her amazing ability of being strong?” She smirked. “And how my hands felt so soft without the suit? Yeah. Something like that.”

Adrien groaned as he hit his head against the table. Just kill me now. Stop my misery please! I beg you.

“Nope. Sorry kitty. Not letting anyone kill you today.”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope.” She said as she popped the ‘p’. “This is just too good to let go. Not for a very loooooong time.”

Dammit.

#ml Adrien #adrien agreste #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #ml fanfic #crack #ml crack #poor adrien #adrien has the shittiest luck

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d0gdaze · 5 years

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The body swap au a surprising amount of people asked for, actually.

Read on AO3 / Summary

Pairings: Eddie Kaspbrak / Richie Tozier

Warnings: swearing, sexual references, drug references

Chapter 8/?

Prev | Next

Word Count: 4121

Eddie’s playlist

Eddie was sure he was doing a substantial job of appearing calm and collected as Mike's car made an unexpected detour on their way to school the next morning, at least considering the circumstances.

They turned down a street, and then a couple more, until they were driving past a stretch of storefronts. Mostly small businesses, a few 'for lease' signs, minimal parking space. God, they were probably going to make him play hooky. Sit in a dirty, empty lot all day and smoke a bong, or whatever you call it.

He hadn't been paying much attention to what the two in the front seats were talking about, only catching fragments about homework and some guy Beverly was into and other trivial things that seemed stupidly unimportant. Eddie almost felt offended, how dare people worry about such things while he was going through the most traumatic and hellish experience that had ever happened to anyone.

The car rolled to a stop in front of an outdated looking diner he had never been to, though he vaguely recognised. Sadie's, as the unlit neon sign above the door told him, Open 24 hours. The one trashcan he could see was overflowing onto the sidewalk with burger wrappers and plastic cups and there was graffiti littering the outside walls of the establishment and oh jesus was that a rat what the fu-

Beverly jumped out of the car quickly, Mike driving off before the door was even completely closed. Eddie watched her, twisting his head around to look out the rear window until she was inside, then whipped back around and straightened himself in his seat. Mike was now singing along to the song that was playing, drumming on the steering wheel as he circled the block. As they drove Eddie couldn't help but keep frantically glancing at the clock on the small radio display. If it was accurate – which maybe it was and maybe it wasn't, he hadn't gotten a good grip on Mike's time-keeping habits yet, – then they were absolutely going to be late if they didn't get a move on.

“Something eatin' you Rich?” Mike asked, peering back at him through the rearview mirror. The thought ran through Eddie's mind that there very well might be, considering the itchiness of the sweatshirt he had picked up off the floor of Richie's wardrobe. He was bombarded, suddenly, with the mental image of hundreds of bugs crawling up and down his arms. He pushed his sleeves up to his elbows and forced the idea down.

“No, I don't think so,” Eddie replied, starting to pick at a bit of peeling skin around his thumb. He had already chewed up his other one to the point he had to wrap a bandaid around it. Mike's expression shifted.

“You've been acting weird lately,” he said, his voice somehow sounding genuinely concerned and casual at the same time, “ain't been seeming like yourself. Quiet.”

You should be thanking me for that, Eddie thought, because surely even these people, that willingly spent time with and around Richie five days a week and sometimes weekends, would be relieved that he suddenly changed his entire demeanour. Surely.

But Mike didn't look relieved, glad, or unbothered. He had the same look on his face that Ben often wore, when Eddie came to him ranting about grades or track or medication or whatever new thing was plaguing his brain this week. It was the expression Bill showed him when he had broken his arm a few years back, and when someone had taken to writing the word 'faggot' in permanent marker on his locker. It was a look his mother faked a lot and one he hadn't gotten the hang of yet.

Basically, Mike looked the way a person does when they actually gave a crap.

It might have sparked some sort of meaningful realisation if Eddie hadn't been distracted by a pigeon pecking at a half eaten hot dog someone had dropped on the sidewalk.

They circled back around to where Beverly was now standing on the curb in front of the diner, balancing a cardboard tray with three large, white cups in one hand and a fourth in the other. She was also holding a white paper bag between her teeth. Something greasy had made semi-transparent patches at the bottom of the bag. The car rolled to a stop and she made a few attempts to open the door using her foot, swinging her leg up to try and lift the handle with the toe of her converse. It carried on for half a minute before Mike reached over and opened the door for her, biting back laughter as she got in. Beverly mumbled something that sounded vaguely like “you're a douchebag,” though it was completely muffled by the bag still hanging from her mouth. Once she was back in her seat she let it drop into her lap, exposing the spit-covered bite mark now embedded into it. Mike pulled away from the curb, grabbing one of the cups at the same time. Eddie would have yelled at him for not doing a head-check, but then there was a cup being thrusted in front of his face.

He blinked at it for a moment. Some of the thick, off-white liquid it contained was leaking out – he watched a line of it drip down the side and over Beverly's fingers. He could already feel his hands getting sticky just by looking at it, his stomach starting to churn at the thought of drinking it.

Eddie didn't often indulge in food that didn't have the nutritional value and ingredients printed on the back. He knew what was safe to eat – things that would give him enough energy through the day without leaving him restless, and he knew how to adjust his intake if he had PE or a track meet or if he was planning on staying up later than usual. He'd tell himself that it was necessary to be careful, that if he wanted to be on top of his game, he had to be on top of his diet, too. It wasn't the real reason, but it was the one he could live with.

Beverly cleared her throat.

“Earth to Richie,” she said, tipping the cup towards him again, “arm is getting tired.”

He took it tentatively, avoiding the side where the leak had run. It was heavy and cold and wet with condensation, and as he lifted the lid to further inspect the concoction, he was hit with a waft of sugar and vanilla and cream and it was so sweet he honestly felt dizzy. When he tilted the cup to one side the contents held firm, undisrupted, and moving the straw left a gap that took nearly ten seconds to fill back in. Eddie had made smoothies before, and on his last birthday he had bought a strawberry frappe from the ice-creamery in town, but this was a whole different level. Gluttony itself had risen up from the third layer of hell and was now on sale for a dollar seventy-five a pop.

It hit him, suddenly, how he recognised the logo. He'd seen Richie walking around with one of these things nearly every day! He ingested this muck on a regular basis – the boy's metabolism must be running like a bullet train on steroids.

In the front of the car, Beverly was throwing bits of hash brown at Mike as he tried to catch them in his mouth, most of the pieces falling into his lap or disappearing onto the floor. There was a spot of grease on his cheek that shone when he turned his head, and several stains from his collar down the front of his shirt. Her fingers were covered in a similar shine, crumbs collecting on her skirt as she tore more pieces off. Someone sounded their horn as they swerved onto the other side of the road, Mike swearing as he corrected himself but they were both still laughing, and as Eddie was screaming at them in his head for reckless driving and making a mess and playing with their food and a whole list of other things, he took a sip. Maybe it was just muscle memory, or his stomach taking control after he'd skipped breakfast twice now, or if it was just a new Thing about inhabiting a body that wasn't your own that he had to deal with now on top of all the other Things, but-

“Holy fuck.”

The words came out of nowhere, and for a second he wasn't even sure if it was him that said them. It was good. Like, really fucking good – he felt disgusting because it tasted like pure sugar and so many calories, but he was sure in that moment that he could have finished the entire thing three times and still go back for more. One taste and he knew he could drink that shit until he puked, and oh god, this was how addiction started. He had never understood it too much before, why people smoked, or jumped out of planes, or did crack, but hell, if crack was as good as this milkshake he'd probably be the biggest crackhead ever.

Beverly looked back at him over her shoulder.

“He speaks,” she spoke around the straw that she had between her teeth, “you good?”

Eddie nodded, and she grinned and winked at him before turning back around in her seat. He sucked at the straw again, taking a big gulp of the stuff, eyes falling closed in a tiny moment of peace. When they opened again they caught Mike's in the rearview. He was smiling, his eyes crinkled in the corners and bright. Eddie found himself smiling too, only a little, but genuinely. And while he did stop himself, because come on, these people are the enemy! Get it together, he couldn't rid his stomach of the warm fluttering that had manifested.

At least he could blame it on the sugar.

The pleasant feeling came and went, as they often do. Upon their arrival to the student car park, he was tuning back into the regularly scheduled anger, confusion, and hysteria that he was starting to become accustomed to. He scurried off before Mike had even locked the car, chucking his empty cup into a bin outside the school steps without actually looking to see if it went in.

He had barely taken five steps into the building before he was being shoulder-checked into the row of lockers, the barge nearly sending his knees out from under him, a shock of pain shooting up his elbow where it collided with a padlock. He winced, then groaned as a rough hand gripped his other shoulder, manhandling him so his back was fully pressed against the metal.

"Good morning, Hamlet,” Henry jabbed, leering at him while digging his chipped, dirt-filled fingernails into Eddie's shoulder.

Eddie blinked incredulously at him – harassment was nothing new to him, especially from Henry and his goons, and he had gotten his fair share of insults and injuries over the years but they were mostly in passing. Someone would knock his books out of his hands in the hallway or tape a 'kick me' sign to his back, but they didn't touch him, never cornered him. At least not after he had accidentally broken Bradley Donovan's nose when they were doing wrestling in PE. Or maybe they were scared of catching something off the kid with a backpack full of pills and ointment tubes. Either way, he wasn't complaining. He'd take the remarks and the rumours over this any day.

“You gonna say good morning back?” Henry's breath was hot and rotten, masked only slightly by the smell of juicy fruit gum, and he was leaning in so close that his glasses started to fog up. Belch Huggins, who Eddie now realised was also standing there, shuffled closer. He was grinning in much the same way Henry was, the pair of them doing an outstanding impersonation of every bully from every movie involving teenagers ever. “Say it, tall-ass!”

Henry slammed his fist into the locker next to Eddie's head. The sound made him jump, and caused a few passerby to look in their direction, but no one actually stopped what they were doing. He even caught someone roll their eyes – they've all seen this before, he realised. Of course they had. God, he was an idiot. He'd spent so much time hating Richie Tozier that it had never occurred that other's did too.

“L-l-lay off, Bowers,” an unmistakable voice appeared from behind Henry. Eddie lifted his head to peer over his shoulder, seeing both Bill and Ben standing in the corridor. The latter was holding a precarious stack of library books, which to Eddie seemed like a years worth of reading but for Ben would last two weeks, if that. Bill had a new blonde streak in his fringe that meant he had either been rejected again or had gotten into a fight with his parents – he assumed the second, because Bill was very bad at being low-key around girls and he hadn't picked up on any new crushes in the past couple of weeks.

“This doesn't concern you, Denbrough,” Henry warned, glancing back at them. His grip tightened in Eddie's shirt and he swore he heard a seam rip. “I'll get to you queers later.”

Bill stepped forward; if it was a spat with his parents that led to the late night bleach job, then Eddie knew the boy would be looking for a way to relieve some anger, and he wasn't about to stand there and watch him get his underwear pulled over his head.. again.

“Henry,” he coughed, drawing the bully's attention back with a sharp turn of his head. An audible crack emitted from his neck and Eddie cringed. Henry sucked his teeth, eyebrows lifting in an unspoken taunt.

Welp, he was going to regret this.

“If you're gonna make the choice to have an outdated haircut, you could at least use some fucking conditioner.”

The speed at which he was pulled forward and slammed back would surely have given him a killer case of whiplash, but luckily for him the back of his head was smashed against the locker hard enough to leave a dent, and the resulting headache would be agonising enough to distract him from the neck pain. He sunk to the ground, vision spinning violently. He felt someone reach down and take the glasses off his face, which only worsened the distortion.

More things happened that he barely registered – someone kicked his leg, another dropped a heavy glob of spit onto his sleeve. He heard something clatter to the ground next to him and when he felt around to pick it up, he came up with the two halves of Richie's spectacles, snapped right at the bridge.

Fucking christ.

Richie had only seen the end of the altercation, coming in through the west entrance to the sight of Mullet-head Bowers nearly knocking him out and breaking the glasses he had just replaced the month before and had been so careful with, because his parents had sworn it was the last pair they would pay for. But now it was back to tape and wonky lenses like when he was thirteen and couldn't keep them intact to save his life.

He'd caught the bus in and sat next to Ben Hanscom, whose name he was now aware of because it was written in blue glitter pen on a label on his walkman, and because the first thing that he noticed when he got on the bus was that This Kid Has An Actual Walkman! Ben also had a hoard of novels on his lap that he was going to return to the library after school in exchange for different novels. Ben also spent the bus ride giving Richie brief but enthusiastic reviews on each of the books he had brought with him, but Richie was too distracted by the portable CD player and the Backstreet Boys song he could hear faintly coming out of Ben's headphones that he didn't retain a single piece of information.

After getting off the bus, he had made a beeline for this one smoking spot behind the dumpsters. Not the best location, he tried not to make a habit out of going there, but it was close and secluded and there were never many people around. He'd nicked the emergency carton from under his bed before Eddie banished him to casa de Kaspbrak, and dragged two cigarettes down to the filters before heading inside, finishing them both in record time if you didn't count the minute he took in the middle to cough up a lung.

The first bell rang, and Henry and Belch fled the scene, falling in with the crowd of students bustling towards their morning classes, but not before Belch could slap the books out of Ben's hands with one downward swoop. They scattered to the ground with a clamour of thuds and flaps. The hallway gradually emptied. Richie stood back and watched as Bill tried to help Eddie to his feet, only for him to start swaying precariously and sit himself back down again.

“Oh, shit,” Mike appeared beside him, suddenly, walking in through the doors with both Beverly and Stan in tow. They had been laughing about something, he didn't know what but he felt jealous already, and Stan was drinking a shake and oh, man, he could use on of those right now. The three of them rushed over, Beverly shooting Richie a confused glance as she went past. Mike knelt down beside Eddie, inspecting his face for bruises, and Stan set down the cup, picked up the broken glasses in one hand and used the other to swing his backpack around to his chest.

“Bowers?” he asked, turning to Bill and reaching into a side pocket of his bag. He nodded and Stan sighed, pulling out a roll of masking tape.

“Y-y-you always carry that ar-r-around?” Bill tittered, taking the frames as they were passed to him and holding them together so Stan could start taping them up.

“It comes in handy,” he replied, “knowing this idiot.”

Beverly finished helping Ben gather his stuff, placing the last novel on top of the tower. He had to crane his neck to rest his chin on it, thanking her sweetly and failing to hide his flustered-ness.

The second bell rang, meaning class had started and they were all getting tardies at this point. Ben apologised to the lot of them and hurried off. Stan handed the glasses back and quickly followed suit.

“I'm fine,” Eddie insisted as he tried to stand for the third time, “lemme up. I'm good.”

“Dude,” Mike said, forcing him to sit back down for the third time, “you could have a concussion.”

“Concussion?” Eddie repeated, slumping back down and looking at Mike in horror, his eyes taking up half his face with how wide they were. Richie groaned, gaining the group's attention and receiving four different types of weird stare.

“E-Eddie,” Bill called over to him, and gee, that hairstyle was really something, “you know stuff a-a-about conc-c-concussions?”

He walked over, until he was standing over Eddie. No, he thought, but I'm getting a pretty good grasp on migraines.

“He'll be fine, probably,” he muttered, hooking a hand under his elbow and yanking him to his feet. Eddie paled, leaning all his weight on Richie and nearly toppling them both over.

“I don't feel so good,” he wheezed, his breathing suddenly shallowing. For a moment, Richie thought he might actually pass out.

“You're fine,” Richie said, sounding and feeling a lot less confident about it. He turned to the others. “I'll take him to the nurse.”

“I'll come with you,” Beverly offered, looking up at Eddie with alarm.

“No,” Richie interjected, too quickly and too loudly, and was met with even more confusion. “I mean, it's okay. I-” say something convincing “-have a punch card.”

He left then, rushing out before he or anyone could say something else, as fast as he could manage while trying to keep Mr. Drama Queen upright.

Bill, Mike, and Beverly exchanged looks as the two of them stumbled down the hall.

“That was weird, right?” Beverly asked, just as they turned the corner. Mike let out a nervous, breathy laugh. Bill ran a hand through his hair, and sighed.

“It's r-Richie and Eddie,” he said, “I'm starting to get used to it.”

“You're not having an asthma attack.”

Richie had dragged Eddie into the boys bathroom, and after checking it was vacant and locking the door, proceeded to finally start losing his shit on the outside as well as the inside. Eddie was sitting with his knees up to his chest on the floor, heaving in rasping breaths and mumbling unintelligibly about brain damage and asphyxiation.

“I am,” he insisted, for the umpteenth time, “I'm having a fucking- I can't breathe. I can't fucking breathe.”

Richie ran his hands down his face, then knelt down in front of him.

“Dude, again, you can't be having an asthma attack, because I do not have asthma,” his voice was brimming with frustration; everything was a mess and the only person he could find an ounce of solidarity in was an overdramatic asshole who wouldn't even play his part right.

“I think I'd know if I'm having a fu-” another gravelly inhale, and Eddie's hand came up to grip at the collar of his own shirt, pulling it away from his neck, “fuck, I need my inhaler.”

“You don't have it with you?” He was sure he couldn't have even pretended to sound sympathetic at this point.

“No, asshole,” Eddie snapped, and Richie had half a mind to just leave him there to deal with this shit himself, but he had too many things he needed to say to him that wouldn't be properly conveyed in a strongly-worded letter. “I can't get into my own room.”

“Well, that's not my fault, is it?”

“I haven't decided yet.”

“You really think you're funny, don't you,” he stood up, distancing himself so he wouldn't feel as much of an urge to punch him. He took a deep breath in, then exhaled slowly. “What's your locker combo?”

Eddie blinked up at him, eyebrows knitted together.

“What? Why?”

“Because I assume you have more than one fucking inhaler,” he replied, “and I also assume you keep at least three spares in your locker, correct?”

“Fuck you,” Eddie coughed, starting to realise that cooperation might have been a good plan and that he wasn't getting anywhere with the bickering route, but also feeling like he had already thrown the brakes out the window and was too far gone to stop now. He was starting to get dizzy again. He let his head roll back against the wall.

Richie let out a heavy sigh.

“Combination,” he said, “or you choke to death on the bathroom floor.” He moved towards the door, pulling his bag back onto his shoulder, “I couldn't give less of a shit which one you choose.”

Eddie hesitated, grinding his teeth. Choking to death wouldn't be the absolute worst way to go, but it still wasn't ideal. The door creaked as Richie began to push it open.

“Six eleven twenty-two,” he croaked. Richie walked out without so much as a nod of confirmation, and as the door swung shut behind him Eddie started to worry that he hadn't heard him at all.

So here he was, sitting in filth, stripped of dignity with a throbbing ache echoing around his skull, and feeling very much like a bad person. But despite the haziness and discombobulation, he was starting to come to terms with the fact that this whole thing was real. He hadn't before now – had felt disconnected, trapped in a limbo since the previous morning, somewhere outside of reality, and he truthfully had expected it to just end at some point. It had to, he thought. It was a dream state, and nothing he was going was actually happening and when it was over things would go back to the way they were. But now, god. He was in the midst of a lot of pain and panic, and it had shocked him to the point of realisation, and some clarity.

This was real. This was real. He really truly believed that now.

And because it was real, so were his actions, and therefore the consequences that they resulted in.

The pinhole got tighter. The door opened again. Wordlessly, Richie handed him his aspirator.

Tag list (bolded won’t tag): @fanficisgoodforthesoul @i-is-gazebo@dandeliontozier@panicatbakerst@howellhxlic@musicalsaftermusicals@bernaynay@bust-a-move-bev@reddie-to-go@richietoaster@omgboiledcabbages@reddietofall@flowersiren@lousytrashmouth@get-fcking-reddie@finnwollfhards @bjrdies@steve-harringtwin@thecastlebyers@books-and-donuts@valenschmidt@grasshoppper@80s-trashmouth@beepbeeprichiellc@little-miss-hellraiser@okay-i-get-it-alreddie@finn-trashmouth@kaspbrakseggo @lolahood @sad-synth@turtleneckrichie@reddieforanything @vitomire @its-stranger-than-you-think@spooky-risley @ohheydatsme@hoteltozier@holystanlon@apatheticphotos@dewdropseddie @ill-float-too@peterparkerwithoutacause@sir-furry @ailecstuff @bird-uris@iamworried7@beepbeepbitchard@trashcanonlegs@11leggomyeggo11@bisexual80scliffjumper @reddieseggrolls @rediietoship @starryeyedstanley @beepbeep-losers @richiefuckfacetozier

#writing #vice versa fic #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #reddie fic #reddie fanfic #it 2017 #in which bill dyes his hair and eddie has another breakdown in a bathroom #also hello its been a WHOLE ASS YEAR

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sweetly-cider · 5 years

Text

Three's A Crowd

Part 5

TW: ABUSE MENTION, R*PE MENTION

Written with @mamajuliet and @mamajebbun

"Would you shaddup?!"

Swirl jumped as he shouted. At first she thought it was at her, but it seemed like he was fighting with himself. She didn't reply and just waited to see what was going on.

Ale's memories began flashing through his head. A watery man, a distraught Swirl, and an angry Ale doing his best to step in. And that was just one of the times he'd come to the bar.

He had messed up, that much was true, but it didn't mean he was gonna let it make people's lives miserable. He thought this would make them better.

<Just... I don't know the full story,> he said, finally ending his push against the wall. <If there's one thing I'm not regretful for doin', it's gettin' her away from the life she would've had. You wanna know the story, you ask her.>

He would have quickly changed expressions to that of confusion. “Wait, him?!” He looked over at Swirl, his brow raised. “You have a history with that asshole with fish for brains?”

His expression darkened. “What did he do to you little missy? It’s enough that he was literally trying to humiliate Herbie’s brother, what did he do to you?”

" Who?“ Swirl asked and then heard who it was. Did she really have to tell him? It would make her more pitiful and help Ale out. Flashes of abuse flashed though her head.

"My full name is Swirl A La Mode. My adoptive father is Argent A La Mode. The 'A La Mode' ice cream is made famous from my father's deal with the devil. I didn't know at the time but he was wanting to make sure we were comfortable... Before he dies."

Swirl stopped for her moment. That's right. He was really sick now. He would be dying soon. She wondered how Sundae would take this news as she tried to get her mind back to her story.

"... Being the oldest out of my sisters. I was told to marry Caspian. He was from a rich family. They own aquariums. His sister was good friends with us, so I thought her twin would be just as kind."

Her mood darkened.

"He forced me to have sex with him. If I annoyed him my bowl would shatter. He was horrid. Sadistic even. So after gaining my confidence back with Ale's help, I ran away from home. Got a job at the bar and got drunk as much as I could."

Swirl sniffed, holding back sobbing as rubbed her eyes." Poor Scoop had to deal with him 'cause I'm a coward. "

“No wonder Herbie needed my help that day.” He mumbled. “And in front of your father no less.”

He hummed to himself before speaking again. “I still don’t see why I need to tell her she won’t have to go back to that piece of trash, Ale. Even if things were different, I still would never let him near her even then. No employee of mine is going to endure that shit.”

He paused then looked over at Swirl. “What are you willing to risk to keep Ale?”

"I'm willing to hand over my own soul." Swirl muttered but then a spark of guilt hit her. She held her stomach nervously. "But I can't do that now. If i'm pregnant Joel, my baby can't loose two parents. I mean. I could ask my father to pay..."

Swirl suddenly realized something. The other demon who was after Ale. Wasn't he willing to pay for the debt? That's what cause the bar to burn with him talking to Max.

"Then again... There is the demon who is paying Applin's debt. Doesn't that contract not exist now? The reason Ale was giving up his soul was to help Applin since the dumbie sold his. So how does that all work?"

He shook his head and crossed his arms. “Even if you weren’t pregnant I would still say no. Not because I want to be cruel, it’s because I can’t involve you. A contract with you wouldn’t work for me, because you are an employee of mine already. It’s part of Herbie contract; I can’t go after anyone he hires.

“As for his contract, it won’t work either. If it was another contract of mine, I might be willing to consider it, but it’s not. Ale came to us to give back what he took from Applin. Unless Applin decided to hand over the bar to me, then it’s not an option.”

"I doubt money would work either?" Swirl grumbled while still rubbing her eyes. Some tears fell but she really didn't know what to do. "The whole thing is a mess. If that stupid demon hadn't hypnotized Ale he wouldn't be going though all this. Ale has done a lot of bad things but the mess is that monsters fault."

<'F only it was that easy,> Ale grumbled, forgetting he wasn't in his own head as the guilt set in. <... Tell 'er I'm not gonna die. That ain't how it works, right? Just kinda... assimilated, I guess. I dunno...>

He tested that rubber wall again, not surprised when it didn't give.

<... She gives me too much credit,> he added with a dry laugh. <Good ol' Swirly, even when I've been a bigger piece a crap than normal.>

He sighed then rubbed his glassy forehead. “Swirl...Miss Swirl, I cant promise much, but because this contract is clashing with another, I’m willing to make a few changes.”

He sighed then looked at her, his expression quite aggravated. “I have to feed off of souls to survive. That is what Ale signed off to with his contract. If he means so much to you, and you would do anything to get him out of this contract, then find me someone to take over instead of him. Convince me that Ale isn’t like the other souls that deserved to lose themselves to me, and I will find a way to fix this.”

#chrono #ale jr #long post #text post #swirl #rp #maria #three's a crowd

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chamrosh · 5 years

Text

Okaaay

So. I promise this’ll end up somewhere a heck ton different to where it’ll initially look but yes I just need a long vent okay and honestly this whole first section is probably useful to loads of people so it’s not going to be abridged by me (though if anyone wants to add a tl;dr if this somehow get’s reblogged, go ahead). There’s probably gonna be more of these covering... different things, some of which will be related.

Anywho.

When I was in year 5, I had my first period. I lost 1/8 of my bodyweight in a week and the blood kept coming for another week after that. I was maybe 10, but probably 9. I had already grown intensely uncomfortable with the idea of being expected to be a woman when I grew up. I think I was born with a clock inside me, because exactly a month later, I had my second period. I lost 1/10 of my bodyweight, not having regained the weight from the previous month enough to support that. I tipped into being dangerously underweight at that point and didn’t have another period for a couple of months.

I complained to my mother about how it was too painful and how much blood I had lost and how much blood there was everywhere and OH MY GOODNESS why did it have to hurt so much, what were those great big clumps - And... and her fucking response was to tell me “it’ll hurt less once you get pregnant”. Ah yes. The solution to a 10 year old being in pain. Encouraging them to give your grandchildren already. A++ parenting. And whenever I asked, I’d always be told some variant of “it’ll hurt less the more children you have.”

That summer, my brother had been spending a month in Germany with my mother’s penpal from school, to help pick up enough to be able to do well in GCSEs. All fair and good there. Except that the youngest child of the family he was staying with, let’s call him Mike, had been to Ecuador to help with anti-poverty work for a month before that. Mike had been sick while there, but he had recovered after a day, and it was a week before he came back to Germany. My brother woke up a few days after arriving and started violently vomiting. My mother’s penpal is a pharmacist, so she rushed to her practice and grabbed as many things that would help and not cause complications together as possible, from her own pocket, and started giving him the doses of each. My brother started having violent diarrhoea too, and this had blood in it.

He was taken to hospital, and spent the rest of the month abroad there instead. Every day he lost 6L of fluid in excess just from the mixture of blood and diarrhoea, before the additional sweating he was going through. The hospital diagnosed him with a bleeding disorder, which isn’t haemophilia, but I shall call “haemophilia” for reasons of what it actually is being pretty rare and haemophilia being really similar and far more common, and honestly haemophiliacs need more recognition than peeps with my condition do based purely on numbers and i’m happy for any recognition of bleeding disorders because of me to go there (especially as most of the time my bleeding disorder is covered under the same hospital departments...). He was sent home after this and we had to keep him essentially quarantined for another 2 months. The hospital told my parents to get me and my other brother checked up for “haemophilia” as soon as possible. We did not receive that check up then, but instead nearly two years later. We were advised to get hepatitis injections too, after it was seen what hepatitis C could do to us, and to get those as soon after we were diagnosed as possible... and I’m pretty sure I still haven’t had my Hep shots.

Note that my monster periods starting happened after I was recommended to be checked out for bleeding issues and yet I was still just told “it’ll be fine if you have a ton of kids” by my mother. And may I point out that the idea of anyone putting anything up there in me makes me physically feel ill, and my imagination kind of glitches and physically won’t let me imagine any version of myself being pregnant or giving birth or anything like that and oh goodness did I try to force myself to manage it when I didn’t realise that even just not having kids was a valid option for people...

The hospital (which does have a proper name, but, again, rare disorder, I’m not naming it) eventually had to nag my mother to take me and my other brother up there for checks.

I remember when I started secondary school, and there was an assembly where “all” the boys and all the “girls” had to be split off for basically crap sex ed classes, and the teacher who did the “girls” one basically said that “oh your first one doesn’t hurt” and “on your first one this teeny tiny pad will do” and just, trust me, on my first period I’d have bled through the starter pads that were given out within about 5 minutes if I were lucky. Both a comment on menorrhagia and on the tininess of these pads. In a moment of disgust I took the first opportunity to get them out of my sight (by burying them at the bottom of my PE kit) and utterly forgot about them being given out for about 5 years.

I hated being in that room so much on so many levels. First, because it was a girls’ assembly, second, because the teacher kept handing out things for girls, which I just flat out refused to believe would be useful to me (because I’m a stubborn lil git when I want to be, but also because most of them would genuinely have been), and third, because she flat out lied. At least, from my view. I thought that losing 1/8 of your body weight on your first period was normal. Bear in mind as well that the puberty related info I had from my periods was entirely contained by giving me a book on puberty and walking out the room. I flicked through it once, realised I’d grow breasts, started crying, and threw it in a corner. I had no further interaction with that book (beyond actually closing it) for about 3 years.

When in class, one of my friends said that their teacher in a different subject had said that during periods you only lose about 3 teaspoons of blood, I refused to believe that a period that light was even possible.

And... all the girls seemed to be able to keep doing everything through the whole month. They didn’t seem to have to curl up into balls and spend their break times curled up down the back end of the school just praying the pain would pass.

When I finally got to the hospital, a year and a half after I was meant to, they did the blood test, I was super proud of how strong and manly I’d been that I didn’t faint at losing a ton of blood to the needle and my brother did, and this is yet another mini-installment in signs of gender dysphoria that small me didn’t register right here. And they said they’d call up about stuff after too - but before we left, the doctor said I should go on the contraceptive pill. It should probably horrify you to know that I knew what rape was when I was five, but I didn’t know what contraceptives were until I was twelve. But either way, I heard my mother refuse, and I wondered what it was, so I asked, and she explained that it gave you female hormones to make you not have children and that it was very bad because then you might not ever have children. I disagreed. It was very bad because it was female hormones. But even so, I was glad at the time that she’d said no.

Every single appointment - that is, twice a year - I got a call. Every single time I was asked if I wanted to go on the pill. I said no. I came up with lame excuses every time but I knew deep down it was always because I didn’t want to have any female hormones. My periods awfulness would vary. Initially it was always losing huge chunks of my weight, but more and more it’s manifested as me not being able to swallow anything at all bitter, and throwing up anything i’ve eaten if I try, and in having to pass enormous clumps through down there.

They started out smaller, like the size of the top joint of my thumb. It’s a sign of significant medical issues once you have a lump larger than a nickle / about a pound coin. I jumped from teeny tiny lumps to lumps about twice a diagnosable size. I had not been taught that lumps that size were not normal, and so I didn’t think it was anything significant when I was asked about it... plus, I knew they’d only suggest putting me on the Pill again...

My periods have always been pretty regular, as long as they’re not disrupted by intense stress (although I learned I could sleep less and make the periods less frequent, and that has to have been one of the worst decisions in terms of my grades I’ve ever made...), such that through the whole of biology in year 11 the worst stage of clumping would always be within the same half hour span on a Tuesday morning, during double biology. I used to deliberately hyperventilate, because when I was on the edge of fainting, I couldn’t feel it anymore. I couldn’t feel that disgusting lump making me acutely aware of an organ I do not want and did not ask for. I love biology. I hated having to miss periods of it for - hah - periods, every single month, but it was better than the alternative.

When I was 15, I started getting intense shooting pains through both sides, about the length of my hand below my ribs. When I went to the GP, I was questioned for what felt like hours, - with my mother STILL IN THE ROOM - if I had had sex with any boys, and whether I was pregnant. It made me feel genuinely ill to have the suggestion that I could ever be pregnant. And! Me! Having sex with someone putting their penis in me? No!

Turns out, once that questioning had stopped, I had ovarian cysts. On both sides. I’m almost guaranteed to be infertile - and I was told such at the time - because both of my ovaries had had it, and I’d had it on and off, and it had worsened over ovulation... and they were causing me enough pain that when they flaired up, I’d tense up, my back would curl defensively whether I wanted it or not, and I couldn’t get myself to move or talk. Those are not healthy ovaries. Honestly, it came as a relief to hear. I love the idea of having children, I really do, but to hear I wouldn’t be giving birth! Fucking great feeling, my dudes.

I hated going in the bathroom so much... I’d refuse to go. There were concert days, at least one each term where I’d have to leave the house at 8am and only get home at 10pm and I wouldn’t have gone to the loo in all that time because I hated the loo that much. It was relatively common to have to leave the house at 8am and get back at 6pm, or anything up to 8pm, and to have not gone to the loo in all that time. Anything more than about 4 hours gap regularly is bad for your health. The only time I would go to the loo in school was to get changed for PE on my own if I couldn’t deal with being with the girls (which happened a lot) or to deal with period matter.

During one lesson in year 9, double history, I felt the pad stick to the chair, and I didn’t dare budge an inch from where I was for the entire hour and a half. I procrastinated until I was the very last person sitting down from class still, and when I stood up, the pad ripped, and within a few seconds, the whole of the insides of both my legs were covered in blood. I knew I had to go to the loo to clear it up and replace the pad, but I still didn’t want to.

I started having clumps comparable to the size of the whole of the palm of my hand.

When I finally spoke about this to the doctor (and came up with yet more dumb excuses for why I didn’t want to be on the pill), they finally got me booked for an ultrasound. The forms stating what the procedure is say, by default, that you have to have instruments stuffed up your there so that they can see what’s going on internally, and I started presumably visibly panicking, judging by the fact that they immediately started discussing alternatives. You can have an external one through the front if you’ve not used a tampon or had vaginal sex, so if you’ve not done either of those, and you have period issues (especially to the same extent as me!), and the thought of anything up there also makes you panic, it’s probably best to continue to avoid them.

When I went up to the hospital, first i was super uncomfy because you have to drink a litre of water an hour before the ultrasound is done, and I knew that I’d have to go to the toilet there... but second, because the nurse doing it needs to have a lot of skin exposed. I get why. I also get why they picked a small, non-threatening looking woman to do it, but that also didn’t really help the discomfort. Nor did having to go into gynecology...

Anyway, normal period lining thickness is around 14mm thick at peak (obviously there’s a variation around that that’s perfectly healthy that’s a few mm wide). Mine was 34mm thick halfway through to ovulation. Which would explain how I basically manage to have a baby bump every month... And again, the nurse said I wouldn’t be getting pregnant. Embryos are not going to fare great in terms of getting enough nutrients there.

I liked the idea that my body was trying to provide for some stupidly manly baby. Only stupidly manly babies who could obliterate a uterus from the inside were welcome. Yep. It’s best not to question how I think sometimes but honestly I think I’ve made it sound as close to rational as I can there.

I had a panic attack over the phone call a year ago. I so wanted to say why I really didn’t want to go on the pill! And I was so scared that it was the only way to end the size of the clumping.

In July I managed to produce a whole collection of huge clumps, one the size of my whole thumb, one that was the length from my middle finger tip to the butt of my palm, and several others, all of which were very safely in menorrhagia territory... In September I managed to produce a clump the size of my fist...

I knew I didn’t want to have to deal with that any longer. But I’d also finally accepted I wanted nothing to do with me being feminine, and I knew what I had to say. And I started out the phonecall, literally last week, saying what I’d need to say as a numbered list and everything, setting it out. It still took me about 5 minutes from saying I had a third point and being prompted to say it that I finally got out my reasoning. I was asked what the issue was. I said again that it was female hormones and I didn’t want them. And again. And again. And again. And again. And then finally they got it.

I finally had an alternative suggested (which I still need to go and get sorted out because oh boy am I disorganised). And they said that the appointment was already longer than it technically should be, and that they really needed a good section of time to talk about how my gender interacted with my “haemophilia” and so they said they’d book my an appointment, not say what the appointment was about on the letter, but that that appointment would be about gender, and would be in my Easter holidays.

I think I practically died of excitement at having something gender-affirming to do officially that’d maybe be a first step in transitioning.

And then I checked my email this morning.

The letter has arrived at my parents’ house. My mother opened it. And she scanned it and sent it to me.

Her thoughts weren’t to scribble out her address and put mine and mail it along like a sensible human being with a basic comprehension of what boundaries are. NOPE, not my mother, not the woman who’d recommend that a 10 year old become pregnant. Of course not. No, she had to go and open confidential medical letters. And she didn’t even have any shame about that! Just straight up emailing me about having done so, and showing me proof that she had done so!

I’m so bloody relieved that the hospital were truthful about that, and that it wasn’t specific at all and just listed the hospital department I have to go to for it (which actually is the haemophilia department). That would have been a fricking awful way to be outed. Can you imagine that? Parents who told a 12 year old that if he turned out to be a lesbian, they’d kick him out the house. As a 12 year old. Who said to not even talk to trans people, let alone make friends with them. Who nearly broke off contact with their kids’ godparents’ son because he came out as pansexual. Who rant about how “society’s gone too far” and that “you can’t just choose” and that TERFs are completely and utterly right about everything for a full week after a single comment is made. Honestly I don’t think I’ve ever more concisely said why it’s taken me so long to actually admit that yep, I’m trans, and also to try coming out to any family members. Can you imagine? Finding out from having precisely 0% of a concept of privacy? My mother was horrified enough when my brother mentioned he was getting his tubes cut and that he and his wife are planning to adopt kids instead. Can you imagine her reaction?

I really really need to be able to safely permanently move out, if only so that my mother doesn’t think it’s okay to look through my medical letters.

Also yes that whole first bit was there because I never feel like I’ve vented enough about it ever and it’s fucking awful and it needs a lot of venting. ... but also to give a scope of the medical neglect from my parents and the level of reproductive control in their house, and to give some context to the stupid lengths they’ll go to to avoid having to deal that some people would really rather not have anything to do with what would make them fertile.

Hopefully now all that is vented I’ll actually be able to focus on what I’m meant to be doing. Which is working out where I’m gonna go for my year abroad. Which, incidentally, I’m going to be Out for, whether my parents approve or not. Also hopefully me actually posting this gives some people a reassurance that yes it’s fine to hate your periods, they suck, and honestly I feel bad for everyone on their periods no matter how much lighter they are than mine, and even if they aren’t a dysphoria inducing nightmare. All periods suck.

#periods #trans #transphobia #menorrhagia #haemophilia #tw:gore #gore #seriously gore #body horror #tbh yes i do think that my parents' behaviour probably falls under abuse #cpd #dysphoria #seriously i hope i can focus more #this has been bugging me all day

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jayniebear321 · 7 years

Text

You’ve got a point

AN: This fic is a long time in the making and is written for my friend @weaponized-glitter. I hope you enjoy love. I own nothing.

It was a dreary day in Paris when Marinette Dupain-Cheng awoke to a small bug like creature shaking her awake as an alarm blared in the background.

“Marinette! You need to get up, school starts in 10 minutes!” the small creature urged.

“Crap!” she yelped, jumping out of bed. “Tiki, you have to help me get ready!”

Resembling a small tornado, Marinette hurriedly dressed while Tiki assisted by passing her items like a hair brush and socks. Once she was dressed, and passable to attend class, Marinette grabbed her bag and ran down the stairs, with Tiki safely tucked away in her purse.

Marinette arrived at Dupont Academy just as the bell was ringing for the day to start. Running up the stair, skipping every other one, she arrived just as Miss Bustier was closing the door to the classroom. After sliding in her seat next to Alya, she heaved a great sigh of relief realizing that she made it in time.

“Hello class,” Miss Bustier smiled, “Has anyone given any thoughts on the project I assigned you all to research last night?”

“Yes Miss Bustier”, the class replied in unison.

“Good! Yesterday I asked you all to research an Olympic sport and to decide on one you would like to present on. Would anyone like to discuss what they found?”

“I don’t understand why this even matters,” complained a young blond girl sitting in the front of the class. “The Olympics aren’t even for another year and they aren’t being held in Paris either.”

“It’s wonderful that you brought that up Chloé,” Miss Bustier calmly replied.

“Principal Damocles was speaking to Mr. D’Argencourt and they both agreed that with the summer arriving, it was time to have a school wide sports festival. Everyone is welcome to choose an event to perform in. Each class will compete against each other and the class that has the highest overall score will be crowned school champions and will be rewarded with a dance at the end of the event.”

The class began to whisper excitedly about the prospects of a school wide competition.

“Miss Bustier, when will the sports festival take place?” Alix excitedly asked.

“In about two weeks.”

“What events will we be able to compete in?” Kim called from the back of the class.

“Well, that’s what your research homework was about last night. What sporting events are typically held at the Olympics?” Inquired Miss Bustier.

“I know!” yelled Max “In the winter Olympics, athletes can compete in skiing events, snowboarding, ice skating, bobsleigh, and speed skating!”

“Nice going, dork. How are we going to have winter sports when we are having this competition in honor of summer?” Chloé snapped.

“There are summer events too, Chloé. No need to be harsh.” Alya shot back with a glare.

Chloé opened her mouth to argue back, when Marinette stepped in with her arm in front of Alya to prevent any more fighting.

“You’re right Chloé, we can’t do winter sports at the end of spring, but we can still have speed skating with rollerblades.” Marinette pointed out, with Alix and Kim high-fiving in the back of the class. “Also, there are many summer events like running, discus, archery, swimming, and fencing.”

“Yeah the school even has a fencing team, it’s a lot of fun.” Adrien added.

“Adri-kins, I didn’t know you were so into athletics!” gushed Chloé. “If it’s something you enjoy, then it must be amazing.”

“Well it seems like you all did research last night, since you are so responsive. Okay class, we will put it to a vote. All in favor of competing in the school festival say ‘aye’.

“Aye,” chorused the class!

“Good, then let’s begin today’s lesson with your French homework from last night.”

“Awwww!”

___

The school day came and went with the class whispering excitedly about the upcoming sports festival. At lunch, Mr. D’Argencourt posted the events that would be held at the festival. Apparently, Miss Bustier took Marinette”s suggestion to heart and mentioned it to the PE teacher because the list included; speed roller skating, track events like hurdles and a relay races, discus, archery, swimming, and fencing.

Below the list of events, Mr. D’Argencourt included a sign-up sheet that would allow students to choose which event they wanted to compete in. The slots so quickly that Principal Damocles and Mr. D’Argencourt set a rule that each student is only allowed to compete in two events to allow every student to have the opportunity to participate.

Once the day was over, Alya, Nino, and Marinette walked home together discussing what sports they wanted to try.

“I think I’m going to try archery and swimming.” Mused Alya, walking hand in hand with Nino.

“Man, I’m terrified to see what you could do with a weapon like a bow and arrow.” Nino replied with a mock shudder.

“Would you rather me with a sword?” Alya laughed, nudging him with her shoulder.

“No ma’am!” Nino said quickly, with real fear in his eyes. “I mean if it’s something you really want to do, I’ll support you, but I fear for your opponent’s safety.”

“Nah, I think Mari’s going to be the one to choose fencing, isn’t that right girl?” Alya teased, poking Marinette out of her silent musing.

“Huh? Me? Fencing?” Marinette stammered. “No way, why would I choose fencing, I’d do better at hurdles or discus.”

“As if girl! With your luck and clumsiness, you’d either trip over a hurdle or hit someone with the discus. Anyway, after Ladybug and Chatnoir fought with Darkblade, didn’t you take up an interest in sword fighting?” Alya pointed out.

“You are right,” Marinette said slowly. “But I don’t even know how to fence!”

“Don’t sweat it Mari! Adrien is a great guy, he would be more than willing to teach you.” Nino added.

“Plus this way you can hang out with your boy Adrien some more!” Alya grinned sharkishly.

“Ha ha, no. I can’t even form a coherent sentence around him.” Marinette argued.

“Don’t worry, you can do all your talking with a sword. Plus you both will have those goofy masks on so you won’t be able to see him long enough to be nervous.” Alya reasoned.

“Look, I’m interested learning how to fence, but I’ll find another way to learn that isn’t a lesson from Adrien.”

“Fine, but I’m holding you to it. Tomorrow you have to sign-up at lunch.”

“Deal.” Marinette and Alya shook on it. “Well, here’s my parents shop, I better get going. I’ll see you both tomorrow!”

“I’ll text you later, girl.” Alya hugged her friend, and continued down the street with Nino.

Marinette waved to her friends and entered the shop.

“Hello mama, papa!”

“Welcome home, Mari! How was school?” asked Sabine.

“It was fine. The school is hosting a sports festival event in two weeks and the winning class receives a dance.”

“Sounds like fun! What events are you going to compete in?” Tom smiled gently at his daughter.

“Fencing, and maybe the relay race.”

“Fencing? I didn’t know you were interested.” Sabine replied. “I used to fence as well when I was young and my old gear would fit you.”

“Mama, I didn’t know that you fenced!”

“Oh yes Mari, your mother was a fierce competitor!” Tom beamed at his wife.

“Would you be able to teach me?” Marinette asked hopefully.

“Sorry love, I haven’t fenced in years, you’d do better learning from your friend Adrien.” Sabine suggested.

“Thanks but no thanks, mom.” Marinette groaned. “I’m going to go upstairs and start my homework on the balcony.”

“Ok Mari. We’ll call you down when it’s time for dinner.” Sabine smiled.

___

The night continued without much ado. Marinette was brushing her hair before bed, when a knock on her window startled her from her task.

“Quick Tiki, hide!” Marinette whispered as the kwami hid in her bed. “Who’s there?”

“Just a lonely cat, won’t you let me in my Princess?” A dark figure called from the balcony.

Marinette ran to the balcony door and a teenager clad in a leather cat suit slinked into the room.

“Good evening princess, I was on patrol tonight and I saw your light on so I figured I’d take a paw-se and say hello.” Chatnoir smiled.

“Hello, Chat.” Marinette smiled back. “How is Paris this evening?”

“Quiet. It’s a nice night out, better now that I have a friend to talk to.”

“Isn’t Ladybug on patrol with you tonight?” Marinette asked, fully well knowing that it was Chat’s turn for patrol and tomorrow she’d be on duty instead.

“Nah, I imagine my bugaboo is getting her beauty sleep, not that she needs it.” Chat mused.

“What about you, kitty?” Marinette replied, hiding her face so he didn’t see her blush. “Don’t you need a cat nap sometimes?”

“You wound me princess!” Chat sighed dramatically, clutching his chest. “Are you implying that I’m not already beautiful?”

Marinette giggled and covered her face at his antics.

“Oh kitty, you are just as cute as a cat should be.”

“I guess I can let your insult slide this time, since you said I’m cute.” Chat said with a wink.

“Not what I meant, kitty, but ok.” Marinette grimaced.

“So what’s new princess? Anything interesting going on? How’s school?” Chat asked, settling down in a chair.

“Don’t you have a patrol to finish?” Marinette asked with a huff, settling down on her own bed.

“I already did a few rounds, I was heading home before I stopped here. I haven’t visited you in a while, so I wanted to check in and say hi. You are my favorite civilian, you know.” Chat mopped. “You aren’t going to kick me into the streets like some stray are you?”

“No, I guess not. School’s going well. We have a sports event starting soon and I was hoping to try fencing but I don’t know how.” Marinette sighed. “I want to help my class win, but I won’t be any competition if I don’t know the sport.”

“Oh really, princess? I think I can help you out. I know how to fence, and even protected my partner once when we had to face an akumatized knight.” Chat stretched. “It would be easy to tutor you if you’d be interested.”

“Are you sure Chat? What about fighting akumas and patrols? Will you have enough time?” Marinette asked breathlessly.

“Sure, we could meet up every other day and I’ll give you lessons. You’ll have to practice on your own when we aren’t together, but I can make it work. The competition is in two weeks right? I can at least get you to an intermediate level by then.” Chat grinned.

“Thank you, Chat!” Marinette ran up to hug the boy hero. “This means a lot to me. In return, I’ll make sure to bring you baked goods from our bakery.”

“Your family’s chocolate croissants are the cat’s meow.” Chat laughed, as Marinette shuddered at the pun. “Well princess, it’s time for me to get home and for you to go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow evening at 6:00 pm at the Dupont academy’s school yard?”

“Definitely! Be safe chat and I’ll see you then.”

“Good night Princess.” Chat patted her head and with the stretch of his baton, was lost in the night.

As Marinette shut the door and climbed into bed, she thought about her conversation with the cat themed hero.

“Tiki, I’m so thankful Chat is willing to teach me how to fence, but I wonder how he knew that the sports festival was in two weeks.”

_____

The two weeks leading up to the sports festival moved quickly. Between patrols, lessons with Chat, school and work at the bakery, Marinette barely had any time to think. By the night before the competition, Marinette was thankful that the day was upon them that she could put her skills to the test.

Marinette thought back on the lessons she had with her kitty. Chat was a patient and kind teacher, though he was quick to make use of a mistake to disarm Marinette during practice. To avoid embarrassment, Marinette quickly learned Chat’s tricks and was soon able to hold her own against his attacks. By their last day of training, Marinette was able to beat Chat at his own game with a move she created herself.

To avoid being disarmed by Chat, Marinette would side step Chats strike, while staying within the lines. Once off balance, Chat would stumble forward since he carried more weight than her, and she could quickly either disarm him or tap him with her saber for a point.

Chat was proud of how fast she was able to learn how to best him, and encouraged her that she would do amazing at the competition. Slowly their trust had grown and they had become friends. Marinette confided in him that her interest in fencing came from his battle with Darkblade and since one of the students in her class had a keen interest in fencing himself. Chat nearly smiled when Marinette told him the student’s name, and said that he was sure that Adrien will be impressed with her ability to fence.

Finally the day of the sports festival was upon them. Marinette made sure to wake up on time so she could get her gear together and make it to school with plenty of time. Marinette ate a quick breakfast, fed Tiki a few cookies, packing some in case of an emergency later and left for school.

Most of the other students had the same idea as Marinette and arrived at the school early so they could warm-up before the events. Alya waved her over to where she was stretching out by the pool.

“Hey girl!” Alya smiled warmly. “Ready to kick fencing butt?”

“You know it!” Marinette said confidently.

“That’s my girl. You’re events are later in the afternoon right?” Alya asked.

“Yeah and you have all morning events so we can support each other.” Marinette confirmed.

“Awesome, our class will definitely win. I have to go get ready for the swimming race.”

“I’ll make sure Nino and I are cheering the loudest for you!” Marinette gave her friend and encouraging hug. “I better go meet the rest of the fencing team and warm up.”

Marinette turned to go find her teammates, when she ran directly into Chloé.

“What’s your problem Marinette? Can’t you watch where you’re going?” Chloé snapped.

“Sorry Chloé, I was just trying to find the fencing team for our class.” Marinette replied, trying to keep her annoyance out of her voice.

“Don’t tell me you’re fencing too? Ugh, why can’t you do something else and let me have time with my Adri-kins.”

“I have no interest in getting in your way Chloé. I just enjoy fencing and wanted to try it out.”

“Whatever. Come on, Sabrina. We don’t have time to deal with pathetic losers.” Chloé stalked off with Sabrina hot on her heals.

Marinette shook her head to clear it. I hope she gets her attitude in check, otherwise we might have an akuma on our hands later today.

With that thought the school bell run and the sport festival officially began.

_______

The morning events went off without a hitch, with Alix winning the speed skating event, Alya winning archery much to Nino’s fear. Discus, hurdles were won by the opposing class leaving the score tied 2-2. With only three events left after lunch the competition was heating up along with the Chloé’s hopes of securing the dance for their class.

“All I want is to be able to wear a beautiful dress and have Adrien ask me to dance.” Complained Chloé.

“You’ll definitely get that chance.” Sabrina assured her friend. “We just have to make sure we win 2 of the 3 remaining events.”

“Oh don’t worry, I have some ideas on how we are going to ensure our victory and my victory dance.”

After lunch, the fencing event was scheduled to begin. The first match was Chloé versus a member of the other class named Matt. Matt was a kind student, but tough when it came to competitions. He easily bested Chloé at fencing and knocked her out of the competition, with his next opponent being Adrien. Marinette was set to fight another student from the opposing class, but her competitor forfeited after suddenly being hit with food poisoning.

As Matt and Adrien chatted before their match, both of them being friends from the fencing team, Chloé snuck up behind Matt and put honey in his mask.

“This will prevent him from seeing, and attract bees to his helmet. This way he won’t be able to beat my Adri-kins,” Chloé chuckled. “Come on Sabrina, let’s go watch from the crowd so we don’t get caught.”

The boys shook hands, put on their gear and got into their positions for the match.

“En garde!” cried Mr. D’Argencourt.

The two boys slid toward each other quickly and began to dual, but soon it was noticeable that Matt was struggling with the match. It didn’t take long for the score to add up on Adrien’s side, with the winning point being scored by Adrien when Matt ran off the field with a horde of bees following him until he jumped into the pool. Scrambling out of the water, Matt ran off into the locker room hiding his face in shame. Removing and throwing his mask to the side, Adrien ran after his teammate to find out what happened, but was stopped by Chloé.

“Adrien, you won!” Chloé cried, “I’m so proud of you, I knew you could do it. Now you just have to face Marinette who I know you can definitely beat and you won this event for our class!”

“Yeah, Chloé I’m not worried about that. I need to find Matt.”

“I’m sure he’s fine. He’s probably just getting changed so that he can compete in the next event. You’re last opponent is Marinette and you have to beat her so you can be the class hero.”

“I guess you’re right.” Adrien conceded, picking his mask off the ground. I can’t wait to see what Marinette is able to do after those lessons with Chatnoir.

Returning to the fencing platform, Adrien walked up to Marinette and offered her his hand.

“Whatever happens during this match, it was an honor facing you Marinette,” Adrien smiled. “No matter who wins our class get the victory, but we both should do our best, right?”

“Uh…of course, A-Adrien.” Marinette stammered, as she put her mask over her head. “Best of luck to you and let the best swordsperson win.”

The two classmates turned and walked to their respective sides, and at Mr. D’Argencourt’s command, the match began.

Marinette kept all of Chat’s advice in her head as she faced off with Adrien. As much as she was uncomfortable talking to him, she was much at ease competing with him at fencing. I guess this is Ladybug’s confidence and competitiveness coming through, Marinette thought with amusement. If only Chat knew who he was teaching to fence these past two weeks.

The match continued until there was a loud roaring at the back of the crowd. Screams soon followed the roar as a tall beast stepped forward, clad in a ripped fencing suit with an intact mask.

“Behold, I am the Gardeian, student of Darkblade. Adrien Agreste, I thought you were my friend, but you have cheated me! My defeat was not a fair battle and I demand that you repay this dishonor with your head.”

“Woah, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” cried Adrien, taking off his mask and putting his hands out to try and calm his akumatized teammate. “We’re friends and I would never cheat to win a competition.”

“Lies! If you didn’t cheat, then you had one of your classmates do it for you!” The Gardeian screamed, “if you won’t tell the truth out of your free will, then I’ll force it from you!”

The Gardeian swung his sword and cut the fencing platform in half. Adrien and Marinette jumped separate directions. Marinette was able to escape to the girl’s bathroom, but she lost sight of where Adrien went.

“Tiki, we have to get out there and fix this before someone is hurt,” Marinette worried. “ I don’t think Adrien would cheat, but I can imagine one classmate who may be bitter enough in her defeat to cheat for him.”

“You’re right Marinette, but there’s nothing we can do about it now other than stop the akuma.” Tiki replied grimly.

“Tiki, spots on!”

One magical girl transformation later, Ladybug was running through the crowd to find Adrien and the Gardeian. It didn’t take long to find the akuma. Unfortunately he had both Adrien and Chloé cornered against the side of the school.

“Now which one of you cheated!”

“Ok, fine it was me.” Chloé admitted, “it wasn’t like you’d be able to beat Adrien anyway.”

“You will pay for the dishonor you brought me,” cried the Gardeian, raising his sword.

As he brought his blade down, a yo-yo wrapped around the Gardeian’s sword and pulled it away from the two students.

“Hey pokey, watch where you swing you’re blade. You could poke someone’s eye out with that thing,” Ladybug teased.

“Ladybug, stay out of this. I’m trying to serve justice and keep things fair.”

“Not going to happen big guy. If you want to fight them you have to go through me,” she challenged.

“No problem. I always wanted to skewer a bug.” With a roar the Gardeian charged towards Ladybug.

“Lucky charm!” A saber appeared from the lucky charm and landed gently in Ladybug’s hand.

“Figures,” she muttered darkly. “En garde, Gardeian.”

“With pleasure.”

Adrien watched in horror as Ladybug did her best to fend off the Gardeians attacks. Matt was already a powerful swordsman, and with Hawkmoth’s additional power from the akuma, he was a force to be reckoned with. The last time, Ladybug had to fight a swordsman, Adrien was able to protect her has Chatnoir. Now he was trapped between a wall and the sword fight. To his surprise, Ladybug was able to fend off the Gardeians attacks until he charged forward to try and score what would be a point in normal fencing. In this case, it would only end in Ladybug being skewered.

In a move that was so familiar to Adrien, Ladybug side stepped the attack and as the Gardeian tripped forward, she disarmed him in a single swipe. Off balance, the Gardeian hit the ground with a crash, allowing Ladybug to remove the mask and break it in half.

“Bye bye little butterfly,” she smiled as the now purified butterfly flew away. “Miraculous ladybug!”

A swarm of ladybugs cleared the damage and reverted Matt back to his original form.

“What happened,” the teen groaned, rubbing his head.

Adrien lowered his hand and helped his teammate up.

“Don’t worry about it man. Are you ok?”

“Yeah, just bummed because I lost.”

“You didn’t lose. The matched was fixed, so it wasn’t a fair fight. You can go to the finals instead. I didn’t earn this spot and it’s only fair you get another chance,” Adrien placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Are you sure?” Matt asked.

“Yeah, but there’s no guarantee you’ll win anyway. You still have to fight Marinette and she’s one heck of a swords person.”

“Speaking of which, where is she?” Alya asked, appearing from the crowd.

“I’m right here!” Marinette called, as she ran from the school building. “I hid inside the school when the akuma attacked. Is everyone ok?”

“Yeah! Hey Marinette, I’m going to forfeit my spot to Matt since he didn’t get a fair shot earlier. Are you ok with facing him?” Adrien asked with a smile.

“O-of course Adrien.”

“Cool! Good luck to both of you,” Adrien turned to join the crowd with Alya, but stopped. Slowly Adrien walked over to Marinette and spoke softly so only she could hear. “Good luck my lady, I believe in you. And you might want to close your mouth so bugs don’t fly in.”

Marinetted just stared at Adrien, as his grin grew wider.

“Chat got your tongue my lady?”

“Chat?”

#miraculous ladybug #adrien x marinette #chat noir #LadyNoir

8 notes · View notes

bambl-ing · 7 years

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I'm…going to ask for all the get to know me asks, haha. ^^;

I WONDERED IF YOU WOULD BUT I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN

alright get ready for wAY TOO MUCH INFORMATION ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

1. What is you middle name?jokes on u I don’t have one

2. How old are you?20, but I feel eternally 17 which grows more and more awkward with each passing year

3. What is your birthday?10/05/1996

4. What is your zodiac sign?Libra !

5. What is your favorite color?it’s a tie between orange and purpleI also like blue

6. What’s your lucky number?5

7. Do you have any pets?a dog, two cats, and a snake!

8. Where are you from?like where was I born ? I was actually born in Korea, but I moved to the states when I was 2

9. How tall are you?like maybe 5′7″ or 8″ idk it’s been a few years

10. What shoe size are you?Sometimes 8, sometimes 9

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?more than I ever thought I would, probably not as many as other people

12. What was your last dream about?I was at my old manager’s house and she had me doing laundry, but when I put the clothes in the dryer it started filling with water and I was like “um I don’t think it’s supposed to do that” and she was like “oh no I know what’s going on” and she told me about this time in ‘86 when all across the country, everyone who had washed their clothes with a certain kind of soap went to bed and were rudely awoken by their clothes just randomly flooding water out ?

so then she was like “that’s what’s happening but it should stop soon, so if you could just take apart the dryer and let it drain before putting it back together and drying the clothes that would be great” but then she also had a really old shelf unit that she wanted me to build but I had a thing I had to go to in like, an hour? and there just wasn’t enough time to take apart and rebuild the dryer AND the shelf, so I was a little annoyed and also like “crap, which one should I do first”

13. What talents do you have?uh. nothing out of the ordinary really ?14. Are you psychic in any way?nah (at least not that I’m aware of and nobody’s mentioned anything)

15. Favorite song?The Middle by Jimmy Eat World

16. Favorite movie?uhhhh…I guess right now Arrival? I just REALLY want to see it again alsdfh

17. Who would be your ideal partner?someone who respected me and who I could trust completely

18. Do you want children?NAH

19. Do you want a church wedding?don’t really want to get married either? unless like, the benefits…,,

20. Are you religious?Not really

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?yis

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?nope

23. Have you ever met any celebrities?I mean I went to Warped Tour and met a bunch of bands does that count

24. Baths or showers?you know if I had an actual nice big bathtub in which I could actually submerge myself without my knees awkwardly sticking out and getting cold, I would probably really like baths?? I’d definitely shower first though, baths would be for soaking in warmth

25. What color socks are you wearing?I’m wearing two pairs, white and the other is white and blue

26. Have you ever been famous?LOL NOPE

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?not really, all that attention…………

28. What type of music do you like?all of it

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?nah

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?4 ( ᐛ )

31. What position do you usually sleep in?I can and will sleep in any position, lately I’ve been falling asleep on my back though because Jack’s been sleeping by my pillow and I like to shove my face in his fur, nice n soft

32. How big is your house?not that big, but big enough

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?cereal of some kind or a bagel and butter, sometimes a cheese omlette if I have enough time

34. Have you ever fired a gun?nope

35. Have you ever tried archery?yes ! and I loved it

36. Favorite clean word?a few, serendipity, soliloquy, and haphazard just off the top of my head

37. Favorite swear word?I can work pretty well with any of them in the right mood

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?maybe like two days ? maybe a lil more I dunno

39. Do you have any scars?a few here and there

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?well if they’re secret i wouldnt kno would i ( ᐛ )

41. Are you a good liar?unfortunately I think so, as long as like…the benefit of the lie outweighs my guilt over lying

42. Are you a good judge of character?I got no clue

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?really badly sure

44. Do you have a strong accent?I mean I don’t think I have any kind of accent ?

45. What is your favorite accent?Cajun( •⌄• )✧

46. What is your personality type?like the MBTI? I’m an INFJ

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?as if I’d remember (probably nothing that expensive tho)

48. Can you curl your tongue?yeah but I can’t do the clover thing

49. Are you an innie or an outie?innie

50. Left or right handed?Leftie !

51. Are you scared of spiders?yeah but I don’t like killing them unless they’re in my room and I don’t have a jar

52. Favorite food?how do people pick one food like,,, there’s so much good food, food is so good??

53. Favorite foreign food?again, how ????

54. Are you a clean or messy person?more messy than clean, but I also get really annoyed with too much mess and then angry clean

55. Most used phrased?if I’m counting everything I say out loud AND what I just think to myself, probably “you’re stupid,” “shut the fuck up,” “fuck you,” and “I’m going to stab you”

…all of these are aimed at myself, and it probably makes me sound really self-hateful? X’D but I’m not, I just get frustrated with myself and am always 100% done with my shit

56. Most used word?probably “I” “a” or “the” going statistically lmao

57. How long does it take for you to get ready?depends, I usually shower at night but my showers are usually 15-20 minutes, and for work I have to put my hair up and also a hat, and I’ve got blunt bangs that I have to make sure are perfect, u know? so give me another like 8 minutes

58. Do you have much of an ego?no, not really at all

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?suck, then when they get small it’s been a few minutes and I’m impatient so I crunch ‘em

60. Do you talk to yourself?oh yes

61. Do you sing to yourself?me and only me

62. Are you a good singer?no? maybe? average? I’m probably not that terrible but when other people are around I become terrified and choke up and die

63. Biggest Fear?People™

64. Are you a gossip?only with my close friends who I know won’t spread the gossip

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?hlkfshdfos I don’t watch enough movies and my memory isn’t that great

66. Do you like long or short hair?long !

67. Can you name all 50 states of America?give me a pencil and paper and like an hour

68. Favorite school subject?English and PE

69. Extrovert or Introvert?Introvert

70. Have you ever been scuba diving?I’ve been snorkeling, close ?

71. What makes you nervous?A Lot

72. Are you scared of the dark?yes, but sometimes nah

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?mostly no if they’re strangers (it’s terrifying to do that okay), but occasionally yeah

74. Are you ticklish?very, don’t touch my sides

75. Have you ever started a rumor?not that I can remember, and I don’t think I ever would intentionally?

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?define authority

77. Have you ever drank underage?in the presence of my mother, yeah

78. Have you ever done drugs?nah brah

79. Who was your first real crush?probably like…third grade, this kid named Micah. idk if it was a “real” crush, but like I really liked him and wanted to hang out and talk about dragons

80. How many piercings do you have?4, double piercings in my ears

81. Can you roll your Rs?yep

82. How fast can you type?I actually knew this at one point in like sophomore or junior year? it was either 86 or 96 CPM, smth like that

83. How fast can you run?fast, but not super fast, so like…kinda fast. I’ve probably gotten slower cause I don’t run regularly tho

84. What color is your hair?brown and really nice in the sunlight, I love it

85. What color are your eyes?brown again. sometimes I’ll just remember “oh yeah I have brown eyes!” and I actually really like them too, I think they’re a nice brown

86. What are you allergic to?I honestly haven’t run into anything yet

87. Do you keep a journal?I keep like an angry journal? but not just ordinary anger, it’s when I’m REALLY in a shittastic mood

88. What do your parents do?my mom’s a transcriptionist/editor/proofreader and my dad own a secondhand store

89. Do you like your age?I mean,,

I don’t hate it, but it makes me really uneasy when people are like “oh you’re 20 you definitely do 20-year-old things and you are an Adult” and I’m just like “no not really actually”

90. What makes you angry?some stuff, but I don’t like getting angry so a lot of the time I’m able to reason with myself

91. Do you like your own name?well enough

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?I will birth no babies ever and I have no desire to raise any real children, but if my OCs count as my babies then shit tons and counting

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?again, OCs? all of them. actual real, breathing, sticky children? none

94. What are you strengths?I know my weaknesses ?

95. What are your weaknesses?sighs

96. How did you get your name?I think like…it was my grandmother’s middle name?

97. Were your ancestors royalty?not that I know of

98. Do you have any scars?déjà vu

99. Color of your bedspread?which one LMAO uh the top one is blue, the one underneath that is pink, then a blue/white/gray patterned, a darker pink knit, white, then a white knit

100. Color of your room?orange ! a really nice light orange that can look yellow in some light >u

#ask meme #personal #azuregold #I honestly didn't feel like these were all that personal ?#fortunately #otherwise I wouldn't have reblogged it #anyway it's always fun answering questions !

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kamerionbeaudry91 · 4 years

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0 notes

elle-stevens · 5 years

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The Break Up Blog - Day Eighteen

Ladies Night at the bar turned out to be more fun than I initially expected.

I was at home yesterday having eaten half a big bowl of chicken and shrimp fried rice and enjoying my new Chinese drama. I almost felt too comfortable to leave my apartment. But I gave myself a pep-talk about being more sociable and meeting my friends like I planned. Then I met C outside our apartment complex and we took a cab to the bar.

Our mutual friend, AM, who convinced both C and I to go to Ladies Night with her, joined us 10 minutes after we arrived. I’m glad I went to Ladies Night. Even though I get super reserved around people I don’t know, a few people approached me and chatted with me, including a woman who’s also from South Africa like me. I got a nice surprise when one of my new acquaintances, R, turned up at the bar too.

R is a Pilates instructor and I first met her when I consulted her on some neck problems I developed from my sleeping posture a few months ago. She helped me out a lot with improving my overall posture and I’m toying with the idea of even taking some of her Pilates classes in the near future. It doesn’t hurt that she has a warm and vivacious personality and a killer body that would make a monk weep. I’ll admit, I was pretty attracted to her when we first met while I was dating X, but it wasn’t anything like what happened with L. And that was mainly because I decided early on that I wasn’t going to make my penchant for shameless perving into something more serious and amorous. Anyway, it was good seeing her at the start of the night, even though she disappeared right after that.

I still found myself looking around the bar for any sign of R while me, C and AM laughed up a storm. AM is just a ball of infectious energy and positivity, it’s damn near difficult to be miserable in her company. I told her about X and I’m glad for it because she was very kind about it. She even seemed keen on reading these break-up blog posts of mine, which made me a little embarassed. Sure, I’m already sharing my private thoughts with what might be a score of nameless strangers online, but that’s only because I thought people didn’t really care about what I’ve been writing in the first place. But the more I type out my thoughts, the more I realise just how many people are helping me through this process of moving on from X and gaining a better outlook on life.

I mostly drank free red and white wine at the bar, which got me feeling really tipsy after a short time. Me, C and AM met a new girl at the bar just as we were leaving named AN who’s Russian. She spontaneously invited the three of us to join her at a night club across the street with the promise of more free drinks. I didn’t really care about the alcohol, but I definitely wanted to keep the positive buzz of the wine going through my system for a little bit longer, so I agreed. I was trying to unwind from the stresses of work and distract myself from the loss of X, I figured I was due some unscripted fun for a change.

It was actually my first time ever in a night club. I’ve lived a pretty sheltered life up till now and living on my own abroad has been the only time where I’ve been allowed to have adventures and misadventures alike. I’m glad my first night club wasn’t as big or as crowded as the ones you see in movies. This club had a very relaxed atmosphere with only a few people in the building. I started chugging down a glass of Coke and whiskey when AN asked me if I wanted to play pool with her. I’m no great shakes at it, but I like playing whenever I’m in a bar, so I agreed. At this point, C, AM and I were well on our way to getting ‘cliche’ wasted. But I managed to stay lucid and on my feet and even won at pool after lots of poorly constructed shots with my cue.

After that, I drank and I danced. And then, I drank even more while dancing. The music was really good and it took my alcoholic buzz to new and extraordinary heights. In that moment, I felt happy and free. I almost wished that X could see just how happy I was without her. But that was just the alcohol talking; it gives me a false sense of bravado which lifts me to my pinnacle only to send me crashing hellwards when I eventually sober up.

These were these neon signs of broken hearts on the walls and while I danced, my fingers kept pointing to them and whispering X’s name in a mantra. Even in my heightened sense of frivolity, my subconscious was still trying to alert me to what I truly feel when no one else is around. I’m not over X; I probably won’t be for a while. I wish that we’d gone clubbing together at least once and just danced the night away in each other’s arms. That will never be now and because of that, I kept dancing and dancing, but just for myself.

In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have chugged down a glass a wine and about 4 glasses of Coke and whiskey without sips of water in-between. That hit me hard after I said goodbye to AN and C and I managed to put AM into a taxi without any of us running into the streets. My stomach really hurt during the taxi and my head was spinning from the alcohol. I finally couldn’t hold it in and rolled down the window so I could puke while the car was still in motion. I ended up making a bit of a mess on the side of the car door. By the time I reached my apartment complex, I had to climb out of the car and kept hurling on the ground. The experience was pretty mortifying, especially when C had to pay extra for our taxi ride because of the mess I made. But she was very nice about it and took me home because I could no longer walk on my own feet. She helped me onto the sofa and even put a bucket down on the floor in case I needed to throw up again before leaving me to sleep. Despite embarassing myself before then, I managed to get 5 hours of peaceful and uninterrupted sleep.

Naturally, I felt like shit this morning. I got my wish from a week ago: the need to get blindingly drunk. I had my very first hangover today and it was not fun. My eyes were puffy and felt heavy all day long. The thought of eating anything greasy made my stomach churn and my head was pounding for most of the day. Still, I put on a brave face and even laughed about it with C, CI and PE at our desks during the day. I was probably not in the best physical state to deal with my rowdy students, but I remedied that by downloading a video with sounds that only young children can hear to torture them every time they got too noisy and ignored my instructions in class.

I managed to leave work on time and make it home for my Skype interview with S. I’m not entirely I nailed it or made a good impression, I was pretty nervous. But hopefully, there’ll be other opportunities to make a second good impression that will stick. Even though nothing’s on the horizon yet with finding a new job, I feel about my life in general this week than I did a week ago. I have to just keep showing up and pray that a door doesn’t get slammed in my face.

After my whacky adventures from the night before and a busy day at school along with an interview, I expected to feel worse for wear. But I’m actually feeling ok now, like I can actually muster up enough energy to exercise at the gym tonight. And I got paid today; surviving a month of a low bank balance finally paid off in more ways than one. I”m probably going to end up spending half of my salary on this weekend alone with paying off subscriptions, saving up for rent, sending money back to South Africa to replenish my savings and buying things for the apartment like appliances and groceries. But I’m gonna try not to mind too much. It’s better to have money I can actually spend than having no money at all.

I have a meeting with another school tomorrow. If that goes well, I’ll get some extra income from teaching for a few hours on the weekends. After that, I’ll need to buy some groceries and then I’ll have lunch with KI, one of my new friends, on Sunday. I don’t like giving up my down time too much, but staying busy these days seems to be helping me. I’ve been alone with my morbid thoughts about X and our previous relationship for months now and I’m sick of it. I put my life and my dreams on hold for her one too many times; it’s time to start living again and being happy.

I had a weird moment when I opened up Paypal earlier and saw X’s account details on my screen. I used to help her out with money in the past; seeing my previous transactions were an uncomfortable reminder of how naive I was about X’s intentions for me. It smarted ever so slightly when I deleted X’s details from Paypal, but I’m glad I did it. I gave her too much of myself, including the contents of my bank account. Now I’m finally free of her manipulations. I’ve even decided to postpone sending back her crap, which was originally going to happen this weekend. There’s no real rush now, especially when I know that it will only be a matter of time before I’m finally over her. I might do it next weekend instead or I might not. I don’t want to make any decisions that I might have second thoughts about later. X may have controlled our relationship, but I’m going to control the break-up and how I carry myself throughout it all.

This has become a long post reflecting on my night-club exploits, so this is a good place to stop for now. I don’t really know what’s going to happen from here on out, but at least I know that I’m going to work at being my old, positive self again while it happens.

#breakupblog

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grabey · 7 years

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If you watch Fifty Shades Darker and can muster even the briefest wide on or semi then I applaud you, for you are a greater being than I.

Also I realised that, by going to the cinema to watch this, I’d missed BBC’s Taboo, which, for all its lack of lighting, and Tom Hardy’s comical grunting and questionable notions on incest, is sexy as hell.

But wait! The film isn’t just bad because it’s boring and is as sexy as a used verruca plaster!

It’s also vaguely offensive to people who like BDSM and anyone who’s experienced mental illness, sexual assault or domestic abuse too!

Here’s the 10 most painful moments of Fifty Shades Darker ranked from niggling to utterly excruciating.

1. You only get to see Jamie Dornan from the female gaze once

Ana admiring Christian (Picture: Universal)

There’s one scene and, yes, I will be making a gif of it, Jamie Dornan (sorry, Christian Grey) is doing topless pull-ups.

This scene is fine. I have no problem with this scene. Ana is watching him and his arms from the doorway.

Jamie Dornan doing near-naked gymnastics for 1 hour 58 minutes would be a much better watch plus have about as complex a plot as Fifty Shades Darker.

Although, having said that, there’s one of those God-awful pommel horses that will bring back horrifying flashbacks – the freezing school hall, the Airtex and pants, the puce-faced PE teacher screeching at you to jump, JUMP, when you could never jump – which takes the edge off.

2. The scene where Ana throws a drink in Kim Basinger’s face

Do it again, I dare you (Picture: Universal)

One can only assume Kim Basinger was like ‘fine, I’ll be in your crap film because I need the cash to help pay off the mortgage but only for like five seconds and we’re only shooting that dumb-ass drink-throwing scene once.’

3. Ana and Christian are an incredibly boring couple

Quick, hide, they’re coming (Picture: Universal)

One theme of this film is supposedly Ana helping Christian leave his ‘kinky f***ery’ behind and become vanilla.

Fine. Good for you. Mix it up. Great.

But we’re not talking Waitrose Madagascan vanilla, or the Ben & Jerry’s they plug in this film.

No, this is the kind of vanilla you bought as a student, that comes in a box, that you can only bring yourself to eat by smothering in half a dish of chocolate sauce.

As a couple, Ana and Christian are that weirdly over-enthusiastic couple bounding over to you at a party, who you have to blind with your brightest fake smile before swiftly escaping ‘to make sure Lucy’s OK’ because you get the feeling they’re so bored of each other they’re always just a few drinks away from suggesting a threesome.

In fact, why did anyone invite them to this party in the first place? Or did they invite themselves because they couldn’t bear another evening in watching The Voice?

4. The proposal

Ugh (Picture: Universal)

I’m not going to go into the particulars, although they’re also as dumb as a box of hammers.

No, I’m talking about the wider plot.

After spending any length of time in the company of Ana and Christian, when they announce their proposal you’ll feel the same way you do when someone you never really liked from Uni but have been obliged to stay friends with announces their engagement on Facebook – ie disproportionately irritated at having to click the ‘like’ sign when you couldn’t give less of a s***.

5. The bit where Ana steals a promotion from her co-worker

OMG I feel really bad about all this although not enough to find another job or recommend you for the promotion (Picture: Universal)

Ana’s landed her ‘dream job’ in publishing as an editorial assistant but then, after about five minutes, becomes an editor.

The way she does this is by stepping over Hannah, her co-worker, who appears to have been in a similar position for longer and have more experience.

Did I mention that Christian bought the publishing company? That’s not weird or controlling at all, is it?

Ana gets a bit cross about this for 0.5 seconds but not cross enough to so much as glance at The Bookseller jobs section or anything.

Anyway, Hannah’s totally fine this, and Ana’s really great about it anyway, and charitably tells Hannah that, although she’s her boss now, she doesn’t have to make tea for her unless she’s already making it, which is really lovely.

6. The attempted sexual assault

The Bad Man (Picture: Universal)

You may be wondering how Anna gets this promotion (other than the fact her boyfriend just bought the publishing company).

It’s because of Anna’s boss – a Bad Man as opposed to Christian’s troubled but fundamentally Good Man.

The Bad Man tries to assault Anna. She knees him in the balls.

Sadly she does not go on to knee Christian ‘just happen to have a file on you detailing everything you do, everywhere you go and everyone you see’ Grey in the balls too.

Instead, OMG wow, isn’t it lucky her billionaire is there to save her and make her dress in clothes he’s bought and have a hair do he’s approved and communicate via a phone he’s bought and drink exactly the amount of alcohol he thinks is acceptable?

7. The treatment of mental health problems

‘No makeup’? Oh dear (Picture: Universal)

Christian has a dangerous, ‘mad’ ex.

She’s your typical Hollywood ‘mad’ – you know – unwashed hair, bags under the eyes, dark clothes, doesn’t look like she’s been on a sun bed recently.

Apparently she previously went round to Christian’s and slit her wrists in front of the housekeeper.

But it’s all fine, because Christian can still get her to sit on command, like a poodle, and she ends up ‘getting the help she needs’ ie locked up and out of the way so she doesn’t spoil Ana and Christian’s lovely romance.

8. The treatment of abuse

Christian suffered childhood abuse and the film implies this is linked to his enthusiasm for BDSM. So there’s that.

9. The terrible, terrible oral sex

If you haven’t sung Bohemian Rhapsody three times in your head it doesn’t count (Picture: Universal)

I mean at least he does go down on her. For about a second. A second in which she cums.

I’m prepared to suspend my disbelief up to a point – the billionaire/stalker, the bit with the helicopter, Kim Basinger getting involved with boring twit like him – but not to the point where I can believe any man can bring a woman to orgasm by kissing her once on the mons pubis.

Also, what’s with all the toe-pointing? Do other women point their toes when they’re having sex? Is it just me?

Or has Hollywood decided the cinema-going public are just not ready for the fat, ghastly sight that is the unpointed female human foot?

10. ‘Laters, baby’

Really? (Picture: Universal)

Christian receives this text from Ana.

Not from Jay from The Inbetweeners.

From Ana.

Supposedly an actual woman.

An actual 20-something woman.

An actual 20-something women we’re supposed to relate to.

An actual 20-something woman we’re supposed to believe fancies a guy and is texting.

‘Laters, baby’. Not ‘later, baby,’ which would be bad enough.

No – ‘laterS, baby’.

That text is really all you need to know about the characters, script, direction and plot.

It sums up 50 Shades Darker pretty well.

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