Crossover: I Prefer the Mind Control/The Church and Its Orbs - At the Same Time
A little experiment about two characters from different universes meeting. Enjoy!
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“Can I sit here?”
I look up, and my jaw fucking drops. Who’s that? I’d recognize any human supermodels if they were part of my canon and actually wanted to talk to me. In my story, most of the hotties who want me are of the super-hot alien type. Equally sexy, but totally fucking different.
Oh, this is a special crossover? But you won’t tell me who she is? That’s helpful.
The girl must be six feet tall -- Xan’s height, incidentally -- with medium brown skin, dark brown eyes I could get fucking lost in and gorgeous features that must have gone through digital manipulation in the womb. Her black hair’s about chin-length with these badass pink streaks, and...humans just don’t look that fucking perfect in real life. Well, I guess this is technically fiction, but it is my real life.
I can’t help taking a look at more than her face -- her thin figure’s as digitally edited as the rest of her. She’s dressed in this black and neon outfit that draws my eye. Okay, it’s mostly her body that draws my eye, but you know...the bright outfit doesn’t fucking hurt.
“Have you been Photoshopped?” I mutter, before wincing. That’s totally the way to make an introduction. “Uh, sure...have a seat.”
She slips into the seat across from me in the cafeteria, and raises an eyebrow. “Photoshopped?” she murmurs.
“You don’t know what Photoshop is?” I ask. Oh right, she comes from a different world than I do, and she doesn’t have meta awareness, does she? “Never mind -- so, what’s up? And...your name. You have one, right?”
Great, I’m a fucking social genius today.
“You’re Dylan, right? I’m Wren. And -- I heard you might be able to help me,” she says, looking down at the table. It’s hard enough for me to make eye contact with someone so hot -- why’s Wren so shy?
“Wait, you know my fucking name?” I say, feeling my jaw hit the fucking floor.
“Yeah...I heard that you might be able to help me -- I’m kind of having a romantic issue. And it’s...well, it’s kind of weird,” she says.
It’s hard to fucking imagine someone so hot even having romantic trouble, but if I can actually help a supermodel, I totally will. “So, what’s the problem?” I say
“I...kind of kissed my friend,” she says, grabbing the edges of the table. I can barely hear her.
I wait for her to go on, figuring there’s more to this than friend kissing. After all, friend kissing isn’t necessarily “kind of weird.”
“And my friend -- Gemma’s a girl,” she says. I have to fucking strain to hear her, she’s so damn quiet.
“So the problem is you kissed a girl? That’s not weird,” I say, raising an eyebrow. Somehow, I get the feeling there’s more to this story, so I wait.
Wren shakes her head, hard enough I half-think she’s possessed or something. “But I -- have a boyfriend. And I like him, I do. But I like her, too. How is that even possible?” she mutters.
I almost laugh -- liking more than one person at once is totally fucking possible. It happens all the time. Unfortunately, kissing someone when you’re attached also happens all the time. I fail to fucking see what’s so weird about Wren’s dilemma.
“Believe me, liking two people at once happens all the fucking time,” I mutter, waving my hand in the air. “You shouldn’t kiss a girl when you have a boyfriend -- without permission, anyway -- but...it’s not weird. It happens.”
She shakes her head again, her confusion fucking obvious. “But Brandon -- my boyfriend -- he’s a guy. And Gemma -- well, she’s not a guy,” Wren says. “How can I like a girl and a guy at the same time?”
Ohhhh...now I get it. Wren here doesn’t seem to get bisexuality is a thing. I can’t help smiling, because this something I actually do understand.
“I think I see your problem, but it’s, like, not a fucking problem -- some people like both girls and guys. Yeah, sometimes at the same time,” I say.
“That’s...possible?” Wren breathes.
“Totally. It’s called being bisexual, and it’s a thing. I’m bi,” I say, nodding
Her eyes widen. “You -- too?” she says.
“Yeah. Don’t listen to the people who say it’s not real. Bisexuality? Totally fucking real. I definitely exist,” I say. I “forget” to mention that we’re both fictional, but bi people exist in your world, too, so it’s all good.
“Seriously? I’m not just...confused?” she says, biting her lip.
I snort, shaking my own head because if I had a fucking penny for every time I got called “confused,” I could buy the entire fucking Milky Way. Me? I’m not confused -- I like girls and guys, and I’m damn sure about that.
“You’re not confused,” I mutter. “Well, you need to figure out which person you like better, but being able to like a girl and a guy at the same time? That doesn’t make you confused.”
“Really?”
“Fucking really.”
---------
“Can I sit here?”
I look up, and my jaw fucking drops. Who’s that? I’d recognize any human supermodels if they were part of my canon and actually wanted to talk to me. In my story, most of the hotties who want me are of the super-hot alien type. Equally sexy, but totally fucking different.
Oh, this is a special crossover? But you won’t tell me who she is? That’s helpful.
The girl must be six feet tall -- Xan’s height, incidentally -- with medium brown skin, dark brown eyes I could get fucking lost in and gorgeous features that must have gone through digital manipulation in the womb. Her black hair’s about chin-length with these badass pink streaks, and...humans just don’t look that fucking perfect in real life. Well, I guess this is technically fiction, but it is my real life.
I can’t help taking a look at more than her face -- her thin figure’s as digitally edited as the rest of her. She’s dressed in this black and neon outfit that draws my eye. Okay, it’s mostly her body that draws my eye, but you know...the bright outfit doesn’t fucking hurt.
“Have you been Photoshopped?” I mutter, before wincing. That’s totally the way to make an introduction. “Uh, sure...have a seat.”
She slips into the seat across from me in the cafeteria, and raises an eyebrow. “Photoshopped?” she murmurs.
“You don’t know what Photoshop is?” I ask. Oh right, she comes from a different world than I do, and she doesn’t have meta awareness, does she? “Never mind -- so, what’s up? And...your name. You have one, right?”
Great, I’m a fucking social genius today.
“You’re Dylan, right? I’m Wren. And -- I heard you might be able to help me,” she says, looking down at the table. It’s hard enough for me to make eye contact with someone so hot -- why’s Wren so shy?
“Wait, you know my fucking name?” I say, feeling my jaw hit the fucking floor.
“Yeah...I heard that you might be able to help me -- I’m kind of having a romantic issue. And it’s...well, it’s kind of weird,” she says.
It’s hard to fucking imagine someone so hot even having romantic trouble, but if I can actually help a supermodel, I totally will. “So, what’s the problem?” I say
“I...kind of kissed my friend,” she says, grabbing the edges of the table. I can barely hear her.
I wait for her to go on, figuring there’s more to this than friend kissing. After all, friend kissing isn’t necessarily “kind of weird.”
“And my friend -- Gemma’s a girl,” she says. I have to fucking strain to hear her, she’s so damn quiet.
“So the problem is you kissed a girl? That’s not weird,” I say, raising an eyebrow. Somehow, I get the feeling there’s more to this story, so I wait.
Wren shakes her head, hard enough I half-think she’s possessed or something. “But I -- have a boyfriend. And I like him, I do. But I like her, too. How is that even possible?” she mutters.
I almost laugh -- liking more than one person at once is totally fucking possible. It happens all the time. Unfortunately, kissing someone when you’re attached also happens all the time. I fail to fucking see what’s so weird about Wren’s dilemma.
“Believe me, liking two people at once happens all the fucking time,” I mutter, waving my hand in the air. “You shouldn’t kiss a girl when you have a boyfriend -- without permission, anyway -- but...it’s not weird. It happens.”
She shakes her head again, her confusion fucking obvious. “But Brandon -- my boyfriend -- he’s a guy. And Gemma -- well, she’s not a guy,” Wren says. “How can I like a girl and a guy at the same time?”
Ohhhh...now I get it. Wren here doesn’t seem to get bisexuality is a thing. I can’t help smiling, because this something I actually do understand.
“I think I see your problem, but it’s, like, not a fucking problem -- some people like both girls and guys. Yeah, sometimes at the same time,” I say.
“That’s...possible?” Wren breathes.
“Totally. It’s called being bisexual, and it’s a thing. I’m bi,” I say, nodding
Her eyes widen. “You -- too?” she says.
“Yeah. Don’t listen to the people who say it’s not real. Bisexuality? Totally fucking real. I definitely exist,” I say. I “forget” to mention that we’re both fictional, but bi people exist in your world, too, so it’s all good.
“Seriously? I’m not just...confused?” she says, biting her lip.
I snort, shaking my own head because if I had a fucking penny for every time I got called “confused,” I could buy the entire fucking Milky Way. Me? I’m not confused -- I like girls and guys, and I’m damn sure about that.
“You’re not confused,” I mutter. “Well, you need to figure out which person you like better, but being able to like a girl and a guy at the same time? That doesn’t make you confused.”
“Really?”
“Fucking really.”