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lady-literature · 4 years

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no point wishing on stars

aka the jasonette aladdin au literally no one asked for

This is a great big amalgamation of semi-canon miraculous, batman and a heavy dose of bastardized Aladdin but here we go-

The story goes like this:

Jason is our beloved street rat turned prince Boy Wonder and billionaire’s son (not that he’s gotten that far yet).

Marinette is Ladybug, is the Guardian, is our modern-day Jasmine. She’s next in line after Fu to lead the Order, which, I suppose, is like High Royalty for superheroes/magic users.

But before she can take her rightful place, she needs a partner by her side. It’s so stupid rule that says she, as a Ladybug, needs a Black Cat by her side in order to be properly balanced.

The only problem is, she doesn’t want one. Or, well. More accurately, it’s that she doesn’t like the ones offered to her, and she doesn’t quite like the idea of being tied to someone she barely knows, especially not at fourteen.

There have been many Black Cat candidates to cross her path but there has been only one she did not immediately veto. Adrien Agreste may be a Black Cat, but he cannot be hers. He will never be anything more than her dearest brother, and that is not what Creation needs.

Creation and Destruction—life and death—have a certain type of relationship. They are lovers, mated and married in every meaning of the word.

And, for as much as she loves and adores Adrien as her brother in her soul, they will never be like that. She will never want him the way she must should he take up Destruction.

So yeah. Marinette has a problem. And yeah, she has some time to figure it out, but the Order is looking to have her figure it out sooner rather than later. Adrien is a good place holder for now, but if Marinette doesn’t choose a Black Cat by the time she’s twenty-one, Adrien will either have to do, or she forfeits her crown and the Ladybug miraculous (which she would never do, she loves her people and Tikki too much to ever do that).

(wait? Does this mean I made Adrien the human equivalent of Raja?… yes. Yes it does.)

And, to spice this up just a bit more, let’s say Hawkmoth is Jafar, yeah? This little shit is really trying to push his son to be the next Black Cat because he wants power what’s best for his son. So he be out here sabotaging potential Black Cats because he’s an asshole his son is the best candidate at the moment. He could give less than two shits about if Mari and Adrien actually like each other that way, he will shove his son at her until she has no choice but to choose him.

Anyway, so Mari leaves the temple one day. Which is fine, she’s not trapped there or anything, she can come and go as she pleases! (she may have to normally take someone with her and is currently ignoring that rule perhaps, but that’s besides the point!)

So she’s at a market in Gotham, strolling down the street, having a good time enjoying being around normal people, when she notices a boy getting into some trouble.

(I’ll give you three guesses as to who it is and the first two don’t count.)

Jason was stealing from market vendors because the hubbub of the street is distracting and nicking a few scraps here and there is practically child’s play. Only, he miscalculates.

One vendor was paying more attention than he thought.

Mari’s across the street and sees the whole thing. Sees the vendor grab Jason’s hand in a bruising grip and snarl in his face.

She’s in between the pair before she even realizes it, mouth already opening around some made-up story about ill-advised dares and how ‘it won’t happen again, sir’ and ‘here, I’ll pay for that right now, no harm done!’

Jason stares at her utterly baffled and, thankfully, silent until after she’d already grabbed his hand and pulled him away.

Only, she pulls him away down the wrong alley. (Look. Mari’s a real sweet-talker and knows how to smooth ruffled feathers, but she is hardly street smart.)

Jason swears, and it’s the first words she’s heard him speak, and then it’s him tugging her along. Up a fire escape and over the rooftops because Jason likes to think he’s tough, but there’s no way he’s picking a fight with five guys bigger than him and wearing masks.

He likes to keep his heart beating more than he wants to keep his pride unharmed thank you very much.

They end up on a rooftop, panting and like, seven blocks away. Marinette is now very lost and with a strange boy who she doesn’t know. He seems… nice, and she’s a good judge of character, but that doesn’t mean much when they’re still very much strangers.

But then the two just look at each other and suddenly they’re both laughing.

And that, my friends, is the start of a beautiful friendship.

***

During those first few months, she and Jason just seem to click.

Mari starts leaving the temple more and more to meet up with Jason, and on more than one occasion dragging behind her a picnic basket bigger than her. (it’s stupid to let one of her friends starve just because he’s too prideful to take her food. So she plans lots of picnics for them both, and pointedly ignores the way he eats and hoards most of the food she brings.)

He is her friend—though she would be lying if she said she didn’t like him a bit more than what one would consider friendly.

And Jason, who is funny and kind and made sharp by the life he’s been forced into, likes her right back. She is one of the few great parts of his life, a bright spot in the darkness he has called his world for so long, and there are few things he wouldn’t do for her.

It’s… scary—just a bit—how important she is to him.

He tries not to think about it too much.

And it doesn't really matter anyway, because she is good and bright and amazing and he is… there’s nothing he can give her in return. Nothing good, anyway.

She deserves someone better. Someone who could buy her things as pretty as her and take her nice places.

Someone who isn’t a street rat.

And then he learns she’s Ladybug, right up there with Wonder Woman and Robin and all the other amazing people set on saving the world, and he feels he got that much farther from her. How can he ever compare?

Jason doesn’t wish, because wishing is childish and he learned too young that shooting stars don’t exist and he’s come to terms with the fact that this is his life years ago, all right? He doesn't need the burden of hope to weigh him down now.

(but perhaps, deep down, tucked away in the corner of his heart, there might be a thought. Small and scared and aching, he might think, ‘if only I could be there with her, if only i could fly with her, maybe then I’d be enough’)

Six months after he meets Marinette, Jason comes across the Batmobile.

His first thought is, this can’t be real.

His second is, I could buy Mari a real birthday gift with this.

His third thought is less of a thought because he’s already got two tires off by that point and then suddenly Batman is there and Jason is swinging his tire iron.

This then leads—somehow—to him winding up at Wayne Manor with Bruce Wayne and then he learns about Batman and Robin and he gets to be Robin and-

(and what else is a Robin meant to do but fly?)

It’s too good to be true. Wishes don’t come true and good things don’t happen to him unless their name be Marinette but… but Jason’s here and it’s not a dream. He’s no prince but, well… he thinks this might just be as close as you can get.

And, okay. He really does try with the whole secrecy thing, because he can understand why that’s important but, I mean… it’s Marinette, who is Ladybug. There really was never any chance of Jason keeping that particular secret, Batman or no Batman.

And about,,, two years pass like this ig. Mari is almost seventeen now, and Jason turned seventeen recently and the pair are getting closer and closer every day. They’re toeing the line of ‘more than friends’ but neither have really taken that next step.

The pressure is on Mari from the Order because she’s getting older and as much as she likes Jason, knows him but he isn’t a good candidate for Destruction and Mari must think of her people first.

Jason doesn’t get to be hers to keep and that aches but what else is she meant to do? She cannot—does not—want to change him in any way. So they stay, in their strange little limbo, with neither making a move.

And then, the unthinkable happens.

Hawkmoth hears of the boy finally, and is, obviously, furious.

He doesn't care if this boy can be a Cat or not, he’s going to ruin all his plans. So, there’s only one solution. He needs to get rid of him.

(i’ll give you three guesses as to how and the first two don’t count!)

Robin—Jason—dies, and Marinette feels when he does. She doesn’t know why or what happened, but the moment he leaves the world her blood turns cold and she feels sick.

Jason hasn’t even looked at the ring and already Marinette could feel the thread that had begun to tie them together. When she hears of his death—when she learns that he’s gone—Marinette shatters.

She shatters and cries and the world tips just a little, with the force of her sorrow, with the agony of her screams.

(justice is blind, yes, but is she deaf? Can she deny the sobbing of such a being as Creation herself? Can she stand, unfeeling, before the agony she has wrought?)

Marinette does not bring Jason back to life… but she has done something close. Has opened the possibility. Is, perhaps, the reason that six months later he screams and claws and drags himself from his own grave.

He is wrong wrong wrong, but he is also alive.

The league finds him, as they must. And Talia throws him into the pits, as she must. And Jason is reborn, screaming and angry and violent, as he must.

Marinette had known, Before, that Jason would not be a good match for the ring. He was tough and wild and willing to get his hands dirty if that’s what it took, but that was not what his core was. He was familiar with the rust and decay of back alley streets, but that wasn’t where he belonged. He would throw a punch but he didn’t relish the blood on his knuckles after a fight.

Jason was surrounded by destruction, but that’s not what he was.

Now… now the destruction he spent so long dancing with has slipped through the cracks in his mind left behind by the explosion. It ripped through his skin and slithered through into his veins until it settled in his heart like an overly smug cat.

Death and Destruction are inside him, woven in his ribcage and fusing with his blood, pumping pumping pumping its deadly rhythm and Jason is helpless to deny it’s tune.

Jason is a being of Destruction through circumstance rather than design, but make no mistake, that does not make him less.

(in fact, it may even make him more. To be remade from one’s own destruction is a powerful thing, and to be remade into Destruction? Well. There are few things more… miraculous.)

And we all know the next part of the story right?

Marinette mourns and grows and lives.

Jason rages and learns and plans. He’s come far from that street rat of a boy, and farther still from Marinette's petite oiseau.

But, two years after he comes back, when he ventures back to Gotham for revenge, Marinette takes one look at this angry, violent man calling himself Red Hood and she knows. He’s too familiar, even as he stands before her, more changed than she ever thought possible.

She meets the Red Hood when he comes for the new Robin, sweet little Tim who Marinette had grown to like despite herself. (He is not Jason, and never will be, but the boy was too shy and clever and earnest for her to have remained cold to him just because he wore the same colors once worn by the man she loved.)

She loves Tim in the same way she loves Adrien, simply and wholly and uncomplicated.

And then she is there when Jason comes for him.

Their reunion is not the stuff of fairy tales. It is not the beginning of happily ever after or true love.

Their reunion is a punch in the gut because it doesn't matter that he’s alive—except it does, because Mari has never known she could be so happy and so shattered at the same time—she is farther from him than she’d ever imagined she could be.

She reaches out for him, voice cracking around his name—because who else could this familiar stranger be?—and something in her shatters all over again when he flinches back from her touch.

“No,” he says, and it is a million things at once. He sends one last glare to Tim, who is still behind her, and then he’s gone.

***

Jason tries to avoid her.

Marinette allows this for a whole month before the whispers in the streets and the stories Tim comes back to her with, become too much.

She knows he is angry and out for revenge and building an empire out of the criminals that infest their city, but she doesn’t care. He was gone for two whole years and Marinette is tired of not seeing him-hearing him-touching him.

She has missed him like an ache in her chest and she doesn't care if he hates her or is furious with her, she just wants to see him. She needs to reassure herself that he’s alive, that he’s real.

And, it seems, the universe is on her side in this. In her chest, nestled there in the space next to her heart, there is what she can only describe as a compass, pointing to wherever Jason is like he’s her own personal north star.

The first few times, she’s yelled at or ran off. Or he runs off. Either way, for a while, the only moments she’s close to him are short and aching.

But she doesn’t let him run for long, and she doesn’t let him scare her off as she knows he’s trying to do.

Marinette had always been the more stubborn of the two.

Eventually, like a feral cat learning safety (like a hurt, scared animal relearning love), Jason lets her get close. He lets her in, lets her get close again.

The first time she sees him, without helmet or mask, she flings herself at him. Arms around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist, clutching him like her life depends on it. He takes her weight automatically, hand beneath her thighs while the other wraps around her back just as tightly. (he longs for touch, she has relearned, but he is also so frightened of it. She will have to be brave for them both)

The second time she sees his face bare once more, he is still thrumming with energy from a fight, is still high on the feeling of broken bones and blood on his knuckles. The force in his chest, the clawing and raging thing settled just off-center of the very core of him, pulls him toward her and Marinette meets him halfway, her own bright, ruthless force like a magnet in her chest.

They meet in a clash of hands on skin and lips anywhere they’ll land.

It is the first time they fall into bed together.

It will not be the last.

Now, you may be thinking, ‘Lady! This isn’t very Aladdin at all!’ and to that I tell you: I fucking warned you. What part of bastardized-Aladdin didn’t you get?

Also, shh. This is my favorite part!

So Mari is in her own personal little honeymoon stage, right? She practically could not be happier because Jason is alive and he’s hers and, even if he’s more violent and a crime boss, he’s stopped attacking his family at least. Which is good, because Mari really didn’t like the sad look Tim wore every time he brought up Jason.

And, oh yeah. Through a combination of her own detective work and Tikki, little Mari realizes that Jason is her Black Cat. Is the only person her Black Cat could be, not because of destiny—though that had helped—but because of coincidence and the bond the pair forged themselves.

So Mari is, obviously, on cloud nine at the moment and she tells Adrien and Fu who are ecstatic for her, and announcements are going to be made the second Mari tells Jason and what could possibly go wrong?

Well, a lot of things really but the first thing is that, basically, Mari is asking Jason to marry her. Just a bit. And while they both know, in that nebulous way they always have, that they love each other, neither of them have ever actually said it.

And also, they aren’t really dating right now either. Mari’s been too busy trying to just get near Jason again that she hasn’t much been paying attention to normal relationship things like dates or labels.

So when she brings it up Jason is… well, caught off guard is likely an understatement. Which then makes Mari realize what exactly she’s just done and- shit. She’s ruined everything and Jason is going to run away again and the compass in her chest is just going to be a reminder of what she can’t have and-

Jason, who only moments before was terrified and in danger of bolting—because this is a lot and magic-marrying Mari comes with responsibilities and rules and a thousand strings he doesn't know what to do with—now stops and stares at her, babbling and so obviously panicked and something in him abruptly settles.

She starts pacing and he grabs her hand when she passes by close enough, reeling her into his body. She comes easily even in her frazzled state and the vicious clawing thing in his chest sighs contentedly.

“Why?” he asks, and it is a million things at once. Why him, why now, why, why, why?

There are a million ways she could answer, but the easiest? The most important answer is simply this: “Because I love you.”

His breath shudders in his chest at her words and her hands raise to settle on his cheek and the back of his neck, a protection of one of the most vulnerable parts of him, and he leans into her touch like a man starved.

Gods, Jason has loved her for years.

He loved her Before and he loved her in the pits, when all he had was the hate they kept stuffing in his chest, and he loves her now. She is his sun and he will spin around her for the rest of his life. But when it all comes down to it, one simple fact doesn’t change:

“I don’t deserve your love.”

Her hands press harder into his skin, like she can force him to understand through touch alone. “If everyone only got the love they deserved no one would be truly loved,” she counters.

“You would,” he says, quick and quiet and honest. Her breath hitches and he watches her eyes go wide. The hands he has on her hips tighten at the emotions he finds there.

“Oh,” she whispers, already pulling him down to meet her. “Oh you stupid, beautiful man.”

And then they’re kissing and- and it is not the first time they’ve done this, but there is something very different about this one.

They’re kissing, and this time, it feels very much like coming home.

***

And, perhaps, that is not the end.

Because there is still one wish left.

Because Jafar-Hawkmoth is still there, and he’s still murderous, and there a very real chance he’s going to ruin the wedding somehow.

Because there is never truly an end to a story, it just simply stops being told.

But none of that really matters. Our princess and her dearest street rat are together at last, and together they’ll get through whatever happens after the story stops being told.

They’ve always had a thing for impossible odds after all.

#maribat #jasonette #my typewriter #aladdin au

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szynkaaa · 4 years

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I more or less watched The Boy!!! And by watching, I mean I skipped more or less through the jump scare parts because I cannot do horror movies at all. I haven’t watched one since 2015 and The Boy was like the first horror movie after five years

Full disclosure, the ONLY reason I started watching the movie was because someone posted a gif of Greta standing close to Brahms who was all sweaty and breathing heavily n I was like “oh shit who dat he hot” and here I am

Can anyone explain the sandwich scene to me? So Greta was scared shitless and locked herself in her room, but why did Brahms make her favorite sandwich for her?

I did some digging for interviews and generally what people have been saying about the movie, took some screenshots from youtube to put my thoughts and musing together too!

Can anyone explain the sandwich scene to me? So Greta was scared shitless and locked herself in her room, but why did Brahms make her favorite sandwich for her?

So first of all, let’s start with a low resolution photo I found on IG of James Russell without mask:

which brings me to my first musing/thought/question?

It’s all under the cut, very screenshot and text heavy, you can find more Brahms drawing at the bottom though ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So at the end of the movie, we are shown a Brahms with a broken mask and his face being burned, indicating that he was in fact in the fire.

I assumed first that the fire was created by the parents to fake their sons death and then he had to live hidden inside the walls?

But I’ve also heard apparently it was Brahms who set the fire to fake his own death or maybe an eight years old kid really was trying to burn himself down??

My other theory is that his parents made the fire and tried to kill Brahms and it did burn him but he survived, and the parents didn’t wanna go to jail sooo to hide everything they made their son live in the walls

i mean the responsible thing would be to turn their kid in and have him treated and stuff;;; listened to a murder podcast about two cases where kids murdered enough kids and how they are doing now interesting read Brahms made me think of those two cases

I also do not think that the previous nannies were killed. Like, c’mon. You’d report a person missing and sooner or later it would go back to the Heelshire mansion and if the body counts piles up? Can’t look good and I doubt that the Heelshire wants the police investigating them close up.

Also, when the mom was like “He’s chosen you if you’ll have him” to Greta? Is it just me or the wording or does it sound like a marriage proposal/arrangement xD

Brahms is a brat and he sees the people around him as his possession or to toy around. But I also do think that he has some abandonment issues but not in the sad tragic kind of way lmao. Even if he was the one controlling and manipulating his parents from behind-the-scene (quite literally I suppose?), he was still told as a kid to live in hiding and that no one can know he is alive. I don’t know much about the human brain, but I can imagine how damaging that must be to his mental growth and set him back in some way? We don’t know too much about his relationship with his parents - but I assume that he must have still loved them in his own twisted way. Can’t imagine that he would have been indifferent about his parents suicide.

The scene before Greta manages to back out - first he uses the child voice to beg her to come back and promises he will be good. That’s his manipulating Greta, but when that doesn’t work and she tries harder to open the door, he becomes more desperate to keep her there and then completely loses his temper and threatens to kill Malcolm if she doesn’t return. I’m pretty sure homeboy would have killed him anyway. And then later when she returns and he is all heavy breathing and smelling her hair and then jumps up when she shouts Brahms? Idk I def think there is some sort of abandonment issue going on.

I don’t think he is a child stuck in a man’s body or manchild or whatever. I think that he does know how to take care of himself - but he just chooses to manipulate people with the facade of a kid to do his bidding and cater to his needs.

Anywhomst, but clearly Brahms is also a very manipulative and controlling person based, based on how the mother was reacting on the destroyed bedroom, she really seemed to be at the end of her wits and just breaking down with her “you promised you’d be good”. It was very heartbreaking to watch and also scary because it really makes you realize just how much power Brahms holds over them?? idk maybe it was just me.

Next point: the CGI mask + the burns

So according to some interviews with the director stated that at the first test streaming, people weren’t really scared of Brahms because he was too handsome so they had to slap a mask over his face. The face was done after everything was filmed. I’m thinking the face burns were also added post-production when they were adding the cgi mask. Otherwise, James would have needed to go through the makeup department for some wicked face burns and it would have been visible during the filming and test screening too? Which would imply that at first the fire was supposed to be just a cover story that their son is dead and it was changed later

Observation/thoughts on Brahms Heelshire

Love how he stands there with his hands behind his back and then nods when Greta tells him to go under the cover

James Russell is 191cm tall. So like. Brahms is really fucking tall. But I notice that most of the time he stands with a slight hunch. Could be due to him crawling through the walls and crawling out of places that requires him to do a lot of crouching. His bed in his hideout made me really sad, I’ll get to it later.

Since James didn’t get many lines in the ten minutes that he appeared, I do think that his eyes did all the acting. They stand out even more with the mask on, there is just this crazy look on it. I also noticed during my rewatch that he doesn’t seem to blink much or at all.

Oh yeah, he also peeped on Greta and Malcolm making out on the bed and then cockblocked them. We been knowing that he made a Greta doll and very likely jerked off to it. We also been knowing that he very very very likely wanted to bone Greta at the goodnight kiss scene still waiting for the maskeless kiss scene gimme gimme. I also highly doubt that Brahms has much first-hand experience with kissing n stuff. High key thinking he was trying to do copy Malcolm and do what he observed lmao

When I first watched the scene, I assumed that the hole behind the mirror has always been and it’s just another one of the hidden passages Brahms to slip in and out, but now that I’m looking at the shape of the holes, it seems to me more like the mirror and brick wall were broken at the same time?? If that is the case holy shit boy is s t r o n g. I mean, he also punched through the closet door like no big deal so really what have the parents been feeding him.

I’m also leaning toward the fact that he ran there because Greta screamed loudly. I don’t think he was in the room as them when everything went down there, it seemed more like he heard the scream and had to nyoomed over and then punched a way through to get out of the wall. And then went on to attack Cole. He must have known that Greta wanted Cole gone, since that what she whispered to the doll before going to bed.

Tbh, I fully expected him to murder Cole in his sleep, but Brahms wrote a warning message in blood to tell him to get out soooooo like. Cole you were warned and now you gotta live with the consequences ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Brahm’s sleeping corner

This scene was shown at the end after Greta and Malcolm escaped. We also see them briefly during the part where Greta and Malcolm are trying to find a way out and stumbled into Brahms’ hideout. I’m not sure why the rules are slapped on the walls. It seems to me that Brahms is very very very set on that the rules / routine should be followed. In the movie, he called Greta and suggested to her that she should follow the rules, to which she then started doing it.

I headcanon that that’s the routine that he grew up with as a kid and it’s just very very very very very hard to break out of it - not that he is trying to break the routine.

I’m failing to find a good way to put my thoughts into words, but I guess the rules and routine is sort of his coping mechanism?

I suppose if you had an OC that you ship Brahms with and want to change stuff around the house, the OC would have to very slowly introduce new rules and routines. Baby steps, yknow.

Brahms has a violin hanging there! Honestly I would be surprised if Brahms didn’t know how to play at least one instrument. The family also has an old ass piano/clavichord (?) and Brahms loves classical music soo yeah. Love me a boy who appreciates classical musical hehe

I suppose the egg boxes are there to soundproof the room more - maybe so he can play the violin?

There’s also music sheets hung around his attics, it’s not clear on the screenshots but when you rewatch the scene and shove your face close to the screen. Some are hanging next to the violin and there are some taped on the wall next to his bed and porn too

nice to see he has a fridge and microwave, I was concerned that he wasn’t well fed and that leftovers might not be enough, but then again. Dude is 191 cm so clearly he has been drinking his milk

Didn’t take a screenshot of his vanity, but there is a crocodile magnet stuck to the mirror hehe. I do think that he shaves and stuff, otherwise his beard would be much longer??

We can see more music sheets stuck to a pillar on the right.

Loving the christmas lights that he has hanging there above his bed. It’s cute.

On the shelf he has a bunch of tupperware and empty bowls. Most of hte things are neatly organized. We can also see some books and a pen

There’s some sunlight streaming inside - I do hope that Brahmsy stays warm during winters.

Here we can see more of the food that he has there - there is also a sink but I didn’t snatch a screenshot of it. I think those are potatoes in the pot? Maybe he does know how to cook some basic stuff, I do wonder if he has a functioning kitchen up there. Probably not for fire safety reasons lol

Yall see that thing on the note sheet covered pillar? Ngl, that’s a whole ass aesthetic right there.

He got a few potted plants up there. Took a closer look at them and it seems like they were healthy. So he knows how to take care of plants, which is nice to know I suppose?

Yes, we all know what he was doing with the doll and what the tissue balled up tissue implies. However, has anyone noticed the size of the bed???

If you scroll up a bit to the screenshot of Greta seeing the doll, it looks t i n y. The make shift doll takes up more than half of the space.

Yall. this breaks my heart. Dude is a beanstalk. I’m pretty sure the bed is from when he was a kid shoved by his parents to live inside the wall, does he have to sleep there in his adulthood too???

Even though Brahms strikes me as someone who probably doesn’t sleep much or during normal times, that bed must be so tiny for him. He must be sleeping with his knees bend and shit unable to stretch out :(((

Brahms: is a psychopath that smashed the skull of a girl and very abusive tormented his parents and then Greta Me: omg he needs a bigger bed that poor thing :(((

Brahms’ DIY corner

Ah yes, Brahm’s little DIY/creative corner.

Homeboy got lot of animal traps, cages and taxidermies hanging around, pointing strongly toward that it’s a hobby of it?

Also at the end where we see him fixing up the doll, we can get a better shot at his desk, and I gotta say the threads and stuff are all very nicely organized. Brahms’s table looks more organized than mine does lmao.

So we know he is a crafty boy. Not sure how difficult taxidermy is but I imagine it does take a lot of time to learn? Well he had all the time in the world anyway.

So yeah, that’s a wrap. Congrats if you made it to the bottom of my incoherent thoughts and ramblings, have a bonus drawing of Brahms wearing different masks:

#the ham talks #brahms heelshire #the boy #the boy 2016 #brahms #brahmbling

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merlinssaggyyfronts · 3 years

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BBC Merlin Rewatch:

01x01: The Dragon’s Call

—

FIRSTLY THE FUCKING DESCRIPTION LMAO “Merlin, a young country boy” COUNTRY BOY AHAHDHSNDH IF ONLY YOU KNEW!!! ITS LIKE SETTING SOMEONE UP FOR DISASTER BUT THEN AGAIN THEY WERE SO LIKE I MEAN-

aw look at merlin all happy and smily, walking into camelot like he isnt going to witness the death of his best friend/king and basically everyone he loves

LOOK AT HIM HES SO HAPPY!!! HE DOESNT KNOW YET

“like everyone, he must live and learn” yo shut ur bitchass up lizard man u literally tried to murder everyone in camelot that one time

“his name: traumatised 😍😍”

AH YES THE OPENING!!1!1!-!-! AHHH THE AMOUNT OF HAPPINESS I FEEL HEARING THE OPENING

fuck ur bitchass uther no one likes u

“i pride myself as a fair and just king” sir didnt u like basically kill ur wife... and thousands of peo- OH MY GOD MORGANA BB ILY

oh jesus okay hes dead um chile-

“when i came to this land” wait i thought he was raised kn camelot brb i forgot im an idiot wait,,, does this mean before this it was the du bois family on the throne of camelot?? also, mired in chaos? u mean like.... before ur wife died and everyone was living peacefully? ....okay

“merlin, seeing a person who's been stated had been studying magic get beheaded: [a magical being himself] ah,, welcoming.” -my gf

“since the great dragon was captured” ....so did no one think about where they put a dragon?? a captured one at that. ud think he’d be more smart but nah he just left a random ass dragon under his castle like THAT is going to end well

YUHH MARY COLLJNS HATE HIM!!! YELL BABEY YELL!!! “you took my son!” YES MURDER HIM OMG I CAN FEEL HER PAIN

“a son for a son!” omg why couldnt u have killed uther bb ur the perfect villain i love u ur literally just a loving mother i-

OOOOO GAIUS

.....why is there a bunny mask in there

why is thERE A BUNNY MASK-

why didnt merlins eyes glow when he dragged the bed to gaius to save him

also whats this slomo magic why didnt he do this after this why did season one haveso much magic and like every other season was just everyone throwing it back

like i get instinctual magic but like.... if its instinctual wouldnt it happen more especially when his powers get stronger-

gaius: what did you just do?!

also gaius, five seconds later: i know what it was!! i just wanted to know where you learned it

merlin: 😐

merlin, about his magic: i was born like this

gaius, who knows full well warlocks exist: impossible!

(are warlocks naturally born knowing how to use magic without learning? i mean if u have to learn magic like a sorcerer then whats the difference between a warlock and a sorcerer cuz wouldnt sorcerers atleast have to have some magic in them to actually cast spells? am i dumb or do i just not get it)

wait so merlin arrived in camelot on a wednesday

merlin, walking into camelot: it is wednesday my dudes

merlin: [witnesses an execution] aaaAAAAAA-

“someone that might help him find a purpose of his gifts” oh honey he’ll get something mUCH LARGER THAN THAT-

—

oH MORGANA

SHUT UR BITCHASS UTHER SHE WILL KILL YOU-

“the more brutal you are, the more enemies you’ll create” oh the waY SHE PREDICTED THEIR FUTURE OO

ah bless u lady helen/mary collins we love them spicy villains

...why do you have a dressing table in a tent

[watches mary collins murder lady helen] i never snitch on dadd- ...someone pls delete me

merlin, about his instinctual magic: i just do it!

gaius: ...lord have mercy what did i just sign myself up to

what ever happened to sir olwen did he die from accidentally overdosing

—

oHHH THERE HE IS THERE HE IS THERES MY BOY!!! MY LIL PRAT MAN!!!!

merlin looks so offended, oh god i could watch this whole scene for HOURS

oooOOOO YES MERLIN FUCK HIM UP!!! SHOW HIM WHOS BOSS

“do i know you?” “im merlin” “so i dont know you” ugh theres already sexual tension

“i would never have a friend who could be such an ass” “or i one so stupid”

also them, ten years later: “i use my magic for you arthur, only you” “just hold me” “i cant lose him! hes my friend!” “thank you..”

“tell me merlin, do you know how to walk on your knees?” OOOOH THE BOYS ARE FLIRTING

NOT THE “would you like me to help you?” SIR YOU ARE FLIRTING SO INTENSELY AND DONT EVEN REALISE IT SIR DO YOU KNOW YOURE FALLING IN LOVE

im convinced atleast half the knights with arthur were like “ayo thas kinda sus bro 😳😳 ayo 😳😳”

arthur: tell me merlin, do you know how to walk on your knees? would you like me to help you?

merlin: ....i really dont know how to answer that

imagine being paid to throw fruits at colin morgan omg id be so thrilled

OOOH HERE COMES OUR QUEEN GWEN!!! MY LOVE MY EVERYTHING YES ILY

gwen: well, arthur looks like one of those, save the world kinda men... and you dont

merlin, 1500 years later, having failed his destiny: well i mean you’re not wrong

—

gaius: uther banned magic a long time ago

merlin, flabbergasted as if he wasnt raised on tales of the death of his kind every day in the kingdom right next to his: why?!?!?

gaius: the dragon is imprisoned where nobody can free him

merlin:

(that is the face of someone knowing full well hes going to free that dragon. look at him. he’s already made up his mind.)

—

[sees merlin and arthur in the marketplace] oh heres he is again heres the lil bitxh ooo theyre about to FIGHT

god hes flirting so hard without even realising it, oh my god

“i could take you apart with one blow” “i could take you apart with less” um sirs this is a mcdonalds drive thru 😃

arthur: ahah, you’re in trouble now~ 😏😏

i had to pause cuz wHAT THE HELL WHY DOES HE SOUND LIKE THAT-

—

....yall are yelling very loudly, um, arent there guards near yall? people passing by? please relax

“im just a nobody, and i always will be” OH IF ONLY YOU KNEWWW

“if i cant use magic, i might as well die” ....well, ive got a surprise for you-

“maybe theres someone with more magic than me?” like... a whole dragon? i mean if you say so 👀

merlin about why he was born like this: if you cant tell me, no one can!

a fucking dragon, basically every magical creature and the druids: WELL-

the camelot guards are so stupid how the hell is this kingdom still standing

how does kilgharrah know merlins name? in prophecy hes known as emrys (and we see basically every magical being call him emrys and not merlin,, i think). so how does he know? did he stretch his neck long enough that he could somehow hear merlin? is it cuz theyre kin? is it cuz merlin and gaius were yelling so loudly that kilgharrah could hear them all the way in his cave? ig we’ll never know 🖐

merlin: where are you?!

kilgharrah:

kilgharrah: without you, arthur will never succeed.

merlin: ....oh look, im already paranoid

the amount of sadness i feel hearing kilgharrah say “none of us can choose our destiny, merlin. and none of us can escape it” is INSANE cuz in season one you can SEE merlin trying to escape it. hes doing his damned best trying to have some control over his life. and then in later seasons you can see the light slowly drain from his eyes as he becomes just another toy for the gods to be entertained by. he realises he cant control a single thing about his life so he does the one thing he can: protect arthur. and he loses SO MUCH because of it! its not fair, he deserved so much, and when he finally got everything he could ever ask for, it was taken away from him by his own mistakes.

arthur, seeing morgana in a beautiful dress: god have mercy 😍

uther: .....um

the way they set arthur and morgana up as if they arent gonna make them siblings i- what the fawk 😄

person A, who knows arthurian lore: oh no! arthur is going to have an affair with morgan(a) and have mordred! oh no!!

person B, whos seen merlin: oh no in this show its worse

person B, knowing full well theyre siblings: much worse....

gwen: who’d wanna marry arthur? 🙄

gwen, getting crowned queen of camelot: well fuck

hhhnghnh yes queen sing them to sleep yes murder his bitchass (and fail but like its the thought that counts)

on a sidenote tho this is such a fun way to murder someone, id try this

the absolutely OFFENDED “FATHER!” and the horrified look in arthurs eyss when uther announced merlin would be his manservant is PRICELESS OMG

oh the way uther unintentionally plants the first seed of his sons love story omg 😍😍

Conclusion: this episode is a 10/10 greatest episode with so many iconic scenes omg. mary collins u will forever have my heart for unintentionally kickstarting merlin and arthurs relationship destiny. i loved the whole thing and oh GOD does it already hurt knowing full well how the show ends

#this was a RIDE #eli’s merlin rewatch #yes i have to say everything that happens in the episode pls leave me alone #01x01: the dragon’s call #merlin #arthur pendragon #uther pendragon #morgana le fay #morgana pendragon #guinevere #guinevere pendragon #gwen #gaius #kilgharrah #lady helen #mary collins #bbc merlin

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waynedunlaptheorgandonor · 4 years

Text

10.16: a certain doom

spoilers (both general and caryl) under the cut:

the episode iiiiiissss not super worth the six month wait (like in general, not vis a vis caryl)

it’s marginally more exciting than the penultimate episode

marginally

i think the problem is they utilized time poorly, so the attack on hilltop was Amazing, but then they accidentally forgot to make the end of the war suspenseful or interesting lol

that being said, it had its moments, so let’s break it down, shall we?

first off, caryl have a brief scene in the beginning in the stairwell where daryl is telling carol that michonne left, and he’s like “everybody leaves and then i never see them again :( “ and carol is like “...i haven’t left” and daryl goes “-sure jan-” and leaves carol looking like a hurt puppy bc she thinks he still hasn’t forgiven her/never really will, more on that later

lydia and carol have a scene where lydia is like:

and carol was like “that’s cuz you should hate me and shouldn’t try and look to me for advice, go find your own way in life” and lydia says “k i’m not asking you to be my mom, i’m asking if we can be bros, but w/e, i’m sure this conversation isn’t foreshadowing to an event that will happen later”

more on that later

princess & crew broke their bikes so they were running late to the rendezvous, and eugene was about to give up, but zeke gave an empowering speech about Never Giving Up (which is kinda weird coming from a dude with cancer whose wife left him and whose son got murdered, but w/e, you get on with your optimistic self, zeke) and convinced him to carry on, more on that later

(here’s an exclusive sneak peek at the scene tho:)

there’s a two hour long scene of our main peeps walking through the giant horde covered in guts, which would be more interesting if they didn’t do that all the time

beatrice got eaten which would have been more of a bummer if i remembered who beatrice was

it did get lydia involved in the fight tho, so that’s something

side note: negan gave lydia alpha’s mask as if it was supposed to be symbolic or something, instead of incredibly traumatizing to this little girl whose abusive mother just got her head chopped off, like couldn’t she have just put guts on like the other people? ok, my dude, way to be a surrogate father figure ig

while carol is still stuck in the horde daryl asks where carol is, which has been the majority of his lines this season

they try to lead the horde away by blasting talking heads, which is a little on the nose but entertaining nonetheless, but then carol had to go and say “protect the horses,” which is a guarantee that the horses will get eaten, bc it’s twd, so whomp whomp, they lose their apparently only plan for leading the horde away

(how have they not learned better by now?)

(better question: how are there any horses left??)

daryl has an unintentionally funny line where he’s like, “k so this is a super shitty idea, and i am aware of that, but let’s just go fucking kill all of the whisperers”

lydia then volunteers to go throw herself off a cliff to get rid of the horde, and daryl brushes her off, more on that later

anyway they go and just. kill all the whisperers ig? including beta? whose death took like two seconds and involved a brief flashback montage and was incredibly anticlimactic for how fucking badass he was (negan draws him away, daryl stabs him the eyes, which was kinda cool, and then he goes and stands in the middle of the horde and smiles wistfully while he’s eaten alive, like a normal person would do)

up at headquarters gabriel is about to get murdered by whisperers, but then maggie and her masked friend somehow make it past the entire horde and up the stairs in time to save him

sure

cut to lydia leading the entire horde to the cliff, but then carol jumps in and tells her to go and that she’ll do it, and is about to go for a fun tumble, BUT THEN lydia pulls her away and they have a brief argument about it

their whole plotline this episode is very:

anyway

what follows is what’s meant to be a heartwarming scene between the two of them where they put aside all their baggage and hug each other and realize they’re stronger together than at odds, and objectively it’s a good scene, but i couldn’t stop laughing bc they kept showing the walkers falling off the cliff and it looked SO STUPID, it was hilarious

they just. literally kept just stepping off the cliff and falling like bricks askdfljs

and then lydia went and threw alpha’s mask off the cliff and that Did Not make it less funny

idk, i’m probably just a bad person, but it was super fucking funny, anyway

maggie reunited with judith, which was actually very sweet, esp when you remember that she delivered her (in the most traumatic way possible)

the caryl scene was nice. i had to watch it a couple times before i decided how nice, bc like everything else in the episode it felt kind of rushed, but essentially carol and lydia return, and daryl is standing in the exact position he was standing in “no sanctuary”, bc apparently that’s how he leans on trees, and carol approaches him super warily, and they both stare at each other, and carol asks him if he’s good, and he is visibly trying not to cry when he goes “yeah. it’s over. right?” and she says yes, and he asks her if she got what she wanted, and she says no, and he tells her she still has him, and she’s like “yeah?” while crying, bc, per earlier interaction, she was p sure she was never gonna get him back entirely, and he says yeah, and then they hug, and carol makes a little sob noise, and daryl buries his face in her shoulder and is teary, too, and then daryl brings up new mexico, and carol says “maybe someday” and daryl deffo looks disappointed but agrees, and then carol has her “we still have things to do, i’m clearly saying this as a set up for dramatic scenes that are about to follow” line

cue dramatic things following

connie is alive (we been knew), but is banged tf up, and runs into virgil. or more like collapses on the ground and virgil finds her and they stare blankly at each other until connie passes out

and then we jump back to princess & crew, who are sitting there bummed out bc stephanie isn’t there, and eugene is like, “bc of zeke’s wise words, i am Not Giving Up, we set out to find and recruit people (did they? i literally don’t remember) and so that’s what we’ll do!”

and it’s a Big Moment of Solidarity and Strength

for all of five seconds, bc they are then accosted by stormtroopers, who presumably work for commonwealth. whether or not commonwealth is building a death star is unclear at this time, but i suppose we’ll find out soon

cue end credits!

so overall: the episode occurred. it wasn’t like, devastatingly disappointing, in that the penultimate episode didn’t really set me up for any sort of big anticipation, and also i had spoilers ahead of time. i wish there had been more time for things like beta’s death to be played out properly, but i wonder also if they were limited on what they could do bc of pandemic shit and trying to get it edited as quickly as possible

as it stands, even tho the whisperers are my favorite twd villains, i’m glad they didn’t do what they did with the saviors and have it drag on for ten million years for no reason

the bottle episodes should be interesting, and prob will lead us into commonwealth, which, again, not sure on the status of the death star, but i’m excited to see what happens regardless

on the caryl front i’m about where i was before, which is fully anticipating canon coming, and my guess is the season will really heavily set up their departure, which means we will have many more scenes to come

the end

as usual, stay hype, stan kang, and get daryl to call carol sweetheart 2k20 (i still have three months left, i’m not giving up yet, zeke wouldn’t want me to),

-diz

#caryl #caryl spoilers #twd #twd s10 spoilers #dunlap tp

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snickiebear · 3 years

Note

yo nadia <3333 i'm bored in my online classes and u reblogged the questions thingy at the right time lmao, so get ready: 1, 4, 5, 9, 10, 17, 23, 24, 28, 30!!!, 34, 38, 39, 40 (the intimacy of being understood) (imma stop here lol) (also i'm sorry u're not feeling well, ily and hope u'll feel better soon!! <33333)

ELE ILY. (and thank you, i’m stayin home today cause,,, yeah. i appreciate you sm.) you’re the literal best, i adore you.

1. How long ago did you start reading fanfiction? Writing fanfiction?

The first fanfiction i read was for The Lunar Chronicles when I was like 11?? and it was 100% on accident and it scarred me because it was a hardcore porn one with a period kink and i was like WHAT IS THIS??? OH MY GOD???? LMAOOOOO i didn’t pick it back up until i was 13-14 and really got into the Fairy Tail fandom. I still reread my favorites on ff.net cause i love them.

As for writing, I wrote a horrible, terrible x-men fanfiction when I was twelve. (my friend still brings it up and REFUSES to delete it so it still gets comments and views, that shit HAUNTS ME ELE.) then tried again for Fairy Tail, posted like two chapters before taking it down cause i wasn’t really feeling it. And then I posted The Intimacy Of Being Understood and here we are.

4. Link your three favorite fics right now.

OMGG okok

@murd3rm1ttens ‘s The Problem How Time Works IF YOU HAVENT READ THIS YOU GUYS NEED TO HOP ON IT ASAP. MITTEN’S WRITING SO SO SO SO GOOD. SAKURA AND INO ARE TOTAL BADASSES. KAKASHI IS A SIMPPPP. ITS SO FUCKING GOOD.

@mouseymightymarvellous ‘s We Were Screaming In Color (Only A Possibility) yes, yes I KNOW. i always point into mousey’s direction but i WILL always advocate that everyone reads her fics, they’re literally so beautiful???? i just happen to be rereading WWSIN rn

@safelycapricious ‘s Shaking Up And Breaking Down series. I found this like?? idfk but i’ve been raving about it ever since. ALSO CHECK OUT THEIR FICS IN GENERAL.

fuck i have more than three but also check out @ambivalens999 ‘s Masks

i do wanna make a fic rec thing where i just rav about my favs,,, might do that later or sum

5. What are your fanfic pet peeves? Do they have a huge effect on whether or not you decide to read something?

Omniscient third person. I don’t like it. Like I can understand that it can be a little hard to stay in one person’s perspective but, in my opinion, if you can, it shows how disciplined you are as a writer. Plus, i just get so confused when I go from A’s thoughts to suddenly what B is thinking about A.

When writers use ‘ ‘ instead of “ “. When writers put thoughts in ‘ ‘ instead of just italicizing them. It’s small things but like they just bother me sO MUCH. most of the time i can ignore it and try to enjoy but other times i just dip.

9. Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community.

@espoir-et-reves !!!!! THEIR SHISAKU FICS ARE SO SO SO SO SO GOOD. And they have a warring states one going on THAT I AM SO OBSESSED WITH.

@writer168 idk if they’re really “underrated” but THEY HAVE SUCH GREAT FICS ON AO3. Like theres an AU with sakura, kiba, and shino that i reread constantly because it just. is. so. fucking. GOOD. and they posted a new one that i’m YELLING about.

@eggtoasties okay they only have 2 in the naruto fandom (one shisaku which is still ongoing) BUT THEIR WRITING STYLE IS SO NICE?? I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT. I still go back and reread their shikasaku one cause UGH i can’t get enough. I love it.

10. What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for?

Fandoms: Naruto, Soul Eater, The Old Guard, ATLA

Parings: KakaSaku/ShikaSaku/ShiSaku/MultiSaku, SoMa, Joe X Nicky, Zukka

Character: SAKURA. I will read anything with Sakura as the main character and her being a fuckin badass or becoming a badass. I love her.

17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback?

aha.. haha.. well. I check my email like three times an hour. its the first thing i check in the mornings too. I’m literally a whore for praise and literally eat up feedback like its going out of style. I also reread a lot of my stuff because i make so many mistakes and spelling errors, or the spacing is weird oR SOMETHING. plus, literally any and all comments make my day, i go back and reread them cause they just make me feel so tingly and warm like “wow. this person enjoyed the fic/my writing enough to tell me. thats HUGE!”

23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write?

Angry, feral, bloodied, morally gray women. They aren’t bad guys, they’re probably the good guy, but that doesn’t mean they cant be fucking raging at the world with raw knuckles and blood on their teeth. I just love an angry woman who struggles with her emotions and just has so much inner conflict but that doesn’t take away from her character or badassery, it adds to it.

24. What’s a trope that you’d like to never hear about as long as you live, let alone write?

The fake dating or miscommunication troupe. LIKE GUYS JUST TALK. AND TELL EACH OTHER OMFG. the entire like obliviousness of “nah they dont like me” while the They holds their hand and kisses their cheek. MOFO WHAT. it makes me so impatient and like mad HAAHHAHA. its probably because i’m a pretty confrontational person so seeing stuff like that just “cmon bro, USE YO HEAD.”

28. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie: pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc)?

I have yet to receive a negative comment! Which i was really surprised about tbh. As for deadlines or pressure to update, i just kind of do whatever. I do set goals, but i set them flexible enough that hey, if i can’t do it, that’s okay.

I have a lot of mini goals, like “i want to write this chapter and get it done this week” and then the large goal is “FINISH BY END OF MAY” so i have time.

Actually, now that I think on it, the entire pressure to update thing is probably why i’m waiting until I have all of OL&W written to post it weekly,, cause well. I wouldn’t wanna leave you guys waiting as I tried to write and work out the next chapters and stuff, you know?

30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words.

AAAAAA YOU KNOW I LOVE THESE AHAHAHAH

Have you seen the way the dead dance, World Breaker? They roar, half mad and starving. Do you not wish, do you not hope to see them twist and bend and dance to your will?

Shikamaru snarls, looking behind his shoulders to where his Shadows lay. “Patience.” He spits. “Is of the essence, Things of Ancient. Know your place as the dark you are.”

34. How much of yourself and your life experiences do you put into your writing? What do you think your readers’ image of you is?

None of my experiences match up to anything I write tbh,,, probably the only thing that is me in my writing is maybe the emotional turmoil? I’m pretty emotionally and mentally mature because from a pretty young age i started forming my own opinions, started looking into the world around us and being like “dude what the fuck this is not what disney advertised”. Then i started talking (read: arguing and debating) with my dad about a lot of it. So, like emotions are kind of hard for me. Like i’m pretty good at controlling them or understanding them, but still. idk its hard to explain ig.

Like the weight of stress, the anger, the sadness. It’s kind of therapeutic to write. Cause i don’t know how to put those feelings to verbal words so writing them really helps.

As for my readers’ image? Probably like some kind of hunched over figure typing away in the dark with a maniacal grin on their face. I honestly don’t know AHHAHAHA but it is fun to think about. I think they’d see me as someone with potential but a lot of room to grow and someone who is imperfect but in a charming way LMAOOOO

38. What does your writing process look like? How chaotic is it on a scale of 1 (very tame) to 10 (you can’t handle this kind of chaos)?

I’m gonna be real honest. Its probably like a 2. I’m a bit of a control freak so I almost always go in chronological order, my writing is pretty linear. Unless, i get bored and jump to one of my fav parts. It's pretty much i sit down, i open the doc, read over my notes and just start writing.

It’s a little boring to explain AHAHAHA but once i get into the groove of things its really fucking great, I can like feel myself in the world, I can feel what i want the characters to, i love it. I catch myself mouthing the words as i type too, which i find hilarious.

39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

I rather like how raw my writing is sometimes. Which might sound really vain, but i do like the way i word things or describe things. I love juxtaposition and repetition, or making a good ole circle back to some minute detail that wouldn’t stand out until i repeat it at the end and you’re like “omg” AHAHAHAHA.

Like those little poetic snippets or certain wording i just sit back and go “damn thats kinda good nadia! go you!’ HAHAHA

40. How did you come up with the idea for The Intimacy Of Being Understood?

AAAAA this fic is like my first child, my pride and joy LMAO

so the idea initially came when i was reading some fic, idk if it was even naruto, but i was like “i don't like this, but i do like the rain symbolism.” And I knew i wanted to write something kind of slow paced, something a little sad and angsty, but would show KakaSaku slowly but surely falling in love.

Idk if you’ve noticed but a lot of my fics, the pairings don’t change each other dramatically. They accept each other as they are and then they grow with together. Like that acceptance is something i just love writing, its so subtle, it isn’t something you declare. Its simply “I am going to love you. I am going to love you despite your flaws and faults. I am going to love you unconditionally because I know you, I understand you, and there is nothing you could do to drive me away.”

The fic kind of wrote itself after that first scene. I kept going back to the rain, go being ghosts, and resurrection, and the small epiphanies one gets. I wanted to focus on each character’s growth with each other. They didn’t find light in life because of each other, but with each other. And i think that’s my favorite thing about that fic.

I wanted something raw and real and just something beautiful. I’m actually really proud of it tbh. Would i go back and rewrite/edit it? Oh of course! I’d do that with every single one of my fics, but i’m not gonna cause i think its in its rawest form right now. :))))

ask me shit plz

#silly things from silly friends

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clairecrive · 4 years

Text

“Let’s stay home”| Quarantine AU

Chapter 1 -“Alfie”

A/n: I’m so excited to finally share this with you!! This really came up to me as a way to pass the time but it slowly became an almost fic so I thought, why not, maybe someone will like it too. Can’t wait to hear your thoughts about it!

Tag list: @deaflikehawkeye, @mollybegger-blog, @br0ck-eddie, @evelynshelby, @fandom–0verdose, @shadow-of-wonder ( let me know if you wanna be added)

Next chapters: Masterpost

The news was out, not it was official: the whole world was on lockdown. Emma knew it was coming, seeing as her family in Italy had been updating her since the pandemic had been official but still, it still felt all too surreal for it to be true. Only that it was and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Until scientists won’t find a cure, the only thing they could do and were asked to, was to stay inside. To go out only in necessary. Currently, Emma wasn’t home. Well, thanks to her job she had been on the move for quite some time, so other than her family’s one she didn’t really have one. At the moment she was renting this lovely house with a sea view and private access to the beach in San Francisco, where her work had taken her. The house was big and she’d get often lonely so during the weekend she had this tradition of calling some friends over. Her schedule was pretty hectic leaving her very little time for social interactions. Emma wasn’t exactly a social butterfly but enjoyed the company of her friends so, in this way, it was a win-win for everyone. Alfie had called her at the beginning of last week to tell her that he was in the area for work and asked her to meet up. Seeing as her friends were busy this weekend, she invited him over. Of course, she had thought of a cute possibly romantic weekend but then pandemic happened and now it seemed that they were stuck together. To be fair, Emma knew that she could pack and go back home to Italy but maybe it was safest for everyone if she just stayed here. Work would be easier to deal with too if she stayed in San Francisco.

“What do you mean we can’t leave the house?” Emma had given Alfie the news after hearing it on tv and he wasn’t taking it too well, to say the least.

“We’re in quarantine Alfie, I think it’s pretty self-explanatory.”

“That’s bullshit, they can’t do that.” Of course, he would say that, king of the world.

“Don’t be daft Alfred. The danger is real and almost every country in the world is on the lockdown.”

“Can’t believe this.”

“People are dying Alfie, I’m sure you can think at least at hundreds of different scenarios where you could get it worse.” Rolling her eyes, she turns around and heads over the bathroom to get her day started with her skincare routine. “Besides, the only one that should be complaining is me. Do you hear me bitching and moaning?”

“What are you insinuating?”

“Have you met yourself?” She sassed looking at him over her shoulder,” I’m stuck with you for god knows how long, still I’m not complaining.” Surely, when she came over the other night, she wasn’t expecting that she’d be stuck with him. However, Emma understood that she was in a privileged position. Yes, she wasn’t with her family but she was grateful nonetheless to be surrounded by people she loved. She knew the cockney man can be a handful and that’s exactly why she called for help. Alfie, still puzzled about this whole situation, follows her like a lost puppy. He didn’t like her tone, but then again, he knew he could be quite the pain in the ass so the prospect of spending the next weeks in close proximity with him wouldn’t be appealing to anyone.

“What are you doing?” The look on his face was priceless. His eyes studied the various bottles she had sprawled all over the sink like they were an Arabic papyrus or something.

“My skincare routine. Ever heard of it?” Her eyes laid on his form behind her through the mirror, while she put her tonic on a cotton pad before gently applying it on her face.

“Seems rather pointless. Don’t see why you need to put all this stuff on your face.” Of course, Alfie was skeptical and ignored even the existence of moisturizer, she could swear it.

“You should definitely give it a try, your skin would thank you for it, rest assured.” She recommended but didn’t get an answer. When she looked again at Alfie, he was curiously watching every little movement she made. For someone who proclaimed to be so against skincare, he was certainly interested in it. Smirking at the thought, she moved a little to the side making enough space for him to join her. Prompting him to come closer with her hands, she was met with his confused gaze but did what she asked nonetheless.

“What kind of skin do you have?” She asked now turning towards him to study his face. He would probably none the wiser about the type of skin he had but she asked anyway.

“What kind of question is that?” As she thought. Ignoring his tone, she simply rolled her eyes again and opted for deducing the answer herself. Spotting the red patches on the edges of his face, she guessed that he had sensitive skin. He didn’t look like he had an oily prone to acne one but she couldn’t tell if he had dry skin either. Maybe he had just normal skin.

“Do you get oily during the day or do you struggle with dryness?” She tried again with a simpler question. I mean, he had to know these things, she thought.

“Well, uh, I don’t think I get oily as you said. Definitely noticed some dry patches though.” Alfie said after a little thought. Well, now we’re going somewhere.

“Okay then.” Considering what he told her, she looked into her beauty case to find the appropriate product for his skin.

“Try this.” She hands him a cleanser that worked for every type of skin and was extremely gentle, so it was perfect for his red patches.

“Why can’t I use that one?” He asked pointing to the tonic she was using when he first entered. She gave him a little smile, the one you give little kids when they ask an obvious question that they didn’t know due to their age.

“Because that one,” she said taking it in her hands so that she could show him, “ is a tonic. That comes after. The first step is to wash your face with a cleanser in order to purify the skin and rid it from all the dirty stuff.” She then proceeds to explain. He didn’t look too convinced but went ahead and followed her instructions anyway. After he had washed his face, she hands him the tonic again.

“Now you can use this. Put a little dose of it on this cotton pad and then gently pat it all over your face.” Seeing as she had to do that step too, she took her pad and showed him how to apply it.

“What’s this for?” He asks while he swipes the pad over his forehead.

“No Alfie look, don’t swipe it. Pat it, like this.” She corrects him, taking his pad in her hands and doing it for him so he could see the right movement. “This is called a tonic and it closes our pores after the cleansing. And since this is a rose-based tonic, it also helps to soothe the skin and cure any irritations.” She softly explains, her eyes focused on the motion of her hand on his face. Seeing up close, his skin looked even more bruised and irritated. She wonders what was the cause and for how long he had had them.

“Swipe, pat. Whatever.” Alfie mumbles resembling very much a little kid but for some reason, it makes Emma smile.

“If they’re two different words it must mean that they mean different things, no?” In a very condescending tone, she finished what she was doing ending it with a pat that was more vigorous. She turned around to gather the next product they would need and thinking that she couldn’t see him, Alfie literally mouthed “gne gne” at her, making fun of her. Maybe he was even more childish than a child. Waiting for him to noticing how much a fool he had made of himself, Emma freezes him with a stern look when he looks at her through the mirror.

“Now, two years old child stuck in the body of a thirty years old, it’s time for under eyes. Although, maybe you don’t want it.” She mused turning around to face him, messing with him as well.

“Do not make me fucking beg for an eye cream, Emma.” Rolling his eyes Alfie spat.

“You know what? I’ve changed my mind. We should definitely do a face mask, god knows your skin needs it.” An idea popped into her mind and she went looking for a hydrating mask for the both of them.

“A what?” Alfie called after her when she walked out of the bathroom.

“Oh please, don’t pretend you haven’t seen Ig posts with girls with colored stuff on their faces or a sheet mask. Before you can even think of denying it, you should know that I can see the posts you like.” She said completely disarming him so that he could only surrender at the fact and wait for her to gather what she was looking for.

“Here it is. It’s super easy actually, you just have to open it and put it on your face and keep it for fifteen minutes-ish.” She explained after handing him the packaging of the mask she had chosen for him. The only she got for herself was not a sheet mask so she had to apply it. She was halfway through when she noticed something strange in the background.

“What-” Erupting in a loud laugh she couldn’t finish the sentence. Putting on a sheet mask was a rather easy task. Or so she thought. But seeing the way Alfie had erroneously put on his, she was reconsidering her statement. Emma couldn’t really see his expression but by the sound he made, she figured he was offended that she was taking the piss at him but she really couldn’t help it.

“Alfie, dear god, what did you do?” Taking the mask in your hands, you pulled it off his face readjusting it to the rightful position. “Here, that’s how you put it on. Look, there are holes where your nose, mouth and eyes go.” She couldn’t help but smile condescendingly at him. He really was a child sometimes.

“And now what?” He asked when they both went back to the living room.

“And now we wait. In 14 minutes you can take it off.” she said looking at the time on her phone while setting a timer, “oh what a wonderful coincidence, they’re also going to be here in fifteen minutes.” She said probably reading a message.

“Who’s they?” Alfie inquired narrowing his eyes startled by this news piece of information.

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? I’ve invited some friends over.”

#qurantine AU #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons #alfie solomons au #modern alfie solomons #modern!alfie solomons #modern alfie #peaky blinders AU

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bredsticon-blog · 5 years

Text

title: the alternative

part: one (saint or sinner)

desc: you have died. you weren't an extraordinary person when you were alive--you made a few little sins and a few little good deeds, but it's not enough to land you in heaven nor hell. so the reaper gives you two choices: be in limbo forever, or serve equal years in heaven and hell. well, you choose the latter...

tags: angel!nick & demon!zion love triangle (or not? wink), heaven and hell au (yes ik purgatory exists but it has different purposes for this series), ooc (on purpose, i swear), sfw (as in, no smut), gore, violence (i mean, you're in hell...), cussing, murder, mentions of: rape, abuse, addiction (alcohol, LSD, heroin, uhh everything else), mental issues (depression, suicide), and death in general. gender/sex neutral reader (as always) and humor to lighten the mood

word count: 2k

notes: it isn't nearly as scary as the tags make it seem, i promise. i spent a l o n g time on the promo art for this (which imma post LATER) so uhh please read :'( haha yes i WILL finish writing the fma!austin fic and make the part 2 for ¡quake! & ~the wave~ but my ass is still collecting gifs and cleaning up plot holes sksksk and on the 2.76% chance the boys read this: hi follow me im @/bredsticon on ig, i make quality content and be more active on tumblr please we love you

You don't remember dying.

You're dead, and you don't remember dying.

Perhaps, in another life, you once thought that death accompanied a special feeling: life flashing before your eyes, lights out, everything over before your last breath escapes your lungs. But this is... this is slow. So slow. You're still on earth. Floating.. somewhere. Nowhere else. You see the world, all of it. Stars twinkle in the mist. The world around you is gray and dark. You watch your home fall apart. Every crack and shake is in full detail, and, dimly, you watch the sprouting of vines and weeds in its place. The weeds brush heads as they cluster your old house, your old neighborhood, your old country, your old everything.

You're old.

Breathless doesn't begin to describe it. You don't have lungs. You don't have... you don't. You just don't. You are nowhere. You are nothing. You don't exist.

Someone waves inside of you.

What the—

"Hello, Soul One-Hundred Thirty-Three Billion, Seventy-Five Million and Sixty-Five. You're late."

An NYC accent? You're from—

"Now that's a mouthful. I'll just call you Rosebud. See, you were supposed to cross over..." A watch ticks inside your... your form? You? "...millennia ago. Five millennia, in fact."

The voice throws a powder on you. Something blooms inside you, and you fall to the ground.

You gasp—holy shit, you can gasp. You move your head around. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod, you have muscles, you have form, you can move. You exist.

The voice has a form, too. He looks like you: human. Flaming blue hair, khaki-colored skin with reddish-pink polka dots and marks. He wears modern clothes: a bright yellow vest and green pants. And glowing. He's like a painting. Human, kinda.

You gape at him. This doesn't exist. This can't exist. You thought you'd be nothing forever. But now you're something and that's something and the world around you is still murky but it's something and oh my God. Oh my fucking God. What happened to you? What happened to your home? Why aren't you dead?

The form smiles at you. "Be careful with mentioning the Master Creator so much. They're listening, y'know. They can tell when you're talking about Them."

He offers you a hand. Shaking, you take it. You wobble so hard you grab his shoulder, and he pats your wrist.

"Relax, Rosebud, we're gonna go up now. Take my hands." Gently, he takes your hand off his shoulder and interlocks your fingers together. You close your eyes as he pulls you close.

Once you open them, you're no longer on Earth.

You're in an office.

Vaguely relaxing piano music plays in the background. The walls gleam "eggshell white" (whatever that means), and copy-and-paste potted plants commiserate in corners, on shelves, and on top of desks. Rows and rows of cubicles line up in front of you, complete with ancient computers, loud clicking, and early morning groans of "I need more coffee, for fu- fun's sake!" A vending machine and a water cooler stand behind you, with banged-up tables interspersed between those.

Someone rises out of a cubicle. His skin is pale, but his hair is dark. "Reaper Honoret Jr.! Is that—oh my goodness, is that the stray? You did it! It took a few millennia, but you did it!"

Honoret Jr. grimaces. "My bad, Dad. The soul blended in so well, it took me a while... my readings showed complete neutrality. It's like there's no one there." The reaper looked back at you. "I only caught a flicker. Right now, I can't—"

His dad chuckles. "Not Dad. It's Reaper Honoret Sr. to you." He winks. "I'm kidding, y'know how they get around here."

He comes forward and wraps his arms around the boy, then unlatches. Without Honoret Jr's support, you fall to the ground, so you watch as he holds his son's shoulders. "Your bad? What do you mean? I'm proud of you. So, so proud. You're the only one who could even—actually, wait."

He turns to face the cubicles. "Reapers of Thanatos & Co., guess who just caught the stray!"

The clicking stops.

Someone coughs. "You're joking, right?"

"Absolutely not. In fact, it's behind me, right now."

Chairs scoot on scratchy carpet as the reapers of Thanatos & Co. nearly jump out of their cubicles to see you. Forty reapers dressed in some manner of business attire speed walk in your direction. One pushes Honoret Jr. out of the way—his dad has to catch him before he falls on his face.

When they see you, they stop. They start staring at the air around you. They sniff like blood hounds.

After a pause, a reaper with large eyebrows turns to another, eyes wide. "I think... I can't... I literally..."

The other nods. "Same here. Reaper Honoret Sr. isn't lying."

The crowd murmurs in agreement.

A reaper with short pink hair raises his hand. When no one calls on him, he puts it down and mutters something about being new. "Wait, if Reaper Honoret Sr. found the stray, shouldn't we tell the Grand Reaper about it first?"

Once more, the crowd murmurs in agreement.

The eyebrow reaper stares at you—no, not at you. Into you. Like you're not even there. "Before that, we need to know who found it. Reaper Honoret Sr., did you find it? We need someone to congratulate."

He grins. "Nope! My son did." He shook his boy's shoulders.

The reaper raises a brow, then gives the blue-haired reaper a look. "Oh. Well, uhm, congratulations."

The crowd weakly claps. Good job... mhm... congratulations, Junior... and then they disperse back into their leather spin chairs.

Honoret Jr. turns to you and makes a face. "Sorry about that. Office drama. Can't escape it, even in this world."

He doesn't look like a reaper to you. No black cloak, no creepy aura, no skeleton fingers. Kind, colorful, couldn't be a reaper. Nope. Impossible. None of this is.

"You're not believing a lot of things, I know. The first few days are the hardest." He gifts you with another smile. "You'll get there, I promise. I'm here to help.

"Name's Edwin, by the way. You've been calling me Honoret Jr. and that just gives me middle school flashbacks. No thanks."

You can't even make a proper facial expression to react to that. You can't formulate words—or even walk without Edwin holding your hand. He's reading your thoughts, at least. You're basically a vegetable.

He shrugs. "Give it a few hours, Rosebud. The vegetable'll wear off. Your body's just adjusting to this plane. No shame."

You can't speak, so you just think of the word: thanks. My name is—

"Oh, I know what your name is. I've been searching for you for five millennia. I'd be a horrible reaper if I didn't know."

He extends a hand. "Speaking of vegetable and horrible reaper, I bet you're hungry. You're also naked. Let's fix that."

Reapers need to eat, surprisingly. Edwin leads you through a myriad of hallways with the exact same paintings and potted plants (this is disgustingly easy to get lost in, you think. Edwin agrees) until you reach the break room. It takes you an hour.

No one's in there except you two. Edwin gave you some of his clothes (kept in another room), so you're wearing a red fit with a black vest and a lime green beanie. He tried to offer his matching ski mask, but you managed to mentally shout "No!" before he put it away. You don't mind wearing his stuff, but you wonder what that could imply. Do reapers...? Actually, you don't wanna think about that.

The break room curves up into a sparkling, plastic chandelier. The rest of the room accommodates a fridge plastered in posters, a microwave, and a dirty coffee maker paired with beige countertops. A pile of paper plates and utensils decorates the left countertop, while a sink occupies the right end. Island tables take up the rest of the center, leaving room for vending machines in the back.

Edwin scrunches his nose. "Who's bummy ass forgot to wash the coffee pot? Ew." He examines it, then starts washing the dishes.

He looks back at you. "You can go raid the fridge. Just don't touch the lunch boxes or uh—bento boxes, I think. Those are Reaper Porter's, and he will get very mad if you touch his bento. I did that once, so he threw a fork at me then said I messed with his feng shui."

Edwin mutters something about unseasoned chicken as he continues scrubbing coffee stains.

You stand up. Your walk is wobbly at best, and you feel like a pile of jello—you're weak in the knees, like jello. But you're getting there. Its better than before. At some point in your hour-long journey to the break room, poor Edwin had to carry you. You felt bad, but at least he's strong. Maybe it's a reaper thing.

You stumble to the fridge. Posters and dates and schedules cover the surface, but you brush past them to find what truly matters: the food.

Reaper office food tastes just as bland as human office food. How sad.

You find that your body works just like it used to. You're hungry, you can feel pain, and you're starting to move. It's like you never died. And now you're in a huge office full of slightly-glowy people who call themselves Reapers and also can't sense you, which is a concept you still don't understand. Or maybe you didn't die? Maybe someone stirred some LSD in your drink? And this is all... a major... acid... trip...

You blink, then pinch yourself. Nope. You're 'swell.

Edwin pulls out a chair. "Now that we're done with the basics, Rosebud, we need to get you registered. You're a bit of a weird case, but you're not too too special. Just uncommon."

He pauses. "Well, actually, you might be a little more special than that. Just a tad."

You give him a look. Something builds in your throat.

"What the fuck?"

He giggles. "Those are your first words on this plane? I—"

"No, seriously. What. The. Fuck." You sound like a cheese grater but you don't care. "I literally have no idea what's going on. I died, I think, then I watched mankind die too as the Earth turned into dandelions, then you went inside of me and threw some pixie dust to make me come back again, suddenly I'm in a 90s sitcom office and I'm naked which literally no one told me about until everyone else saw me as bare as the day I was born and—"

Edwin pats your hand. "All right, all right, let it out, let it out. I'll explain everything. It's just really long." He rubs the back of his neck. "And we're kinda on a time crunch here."

"A time crunch. When it took us an hour just to get a snack."

"Yes, a time crunch. We have about two more hours to get you registered before you become tied to this plane. Then you'll have to become a reaper, like me, and you don't wanna become a reaper." He bites deeply into his peanut butter and banana sandwich. "Shit's hard."

"I can't even—"

"Mhm." He says through a mouthful of peanut butter. "I'm rellay sorreh you're goineh frough thif. I geh how you feel. Eferyone dehs."

He swallows. "We all started out alive. No one's been here since the beginning. Except for some of the seraphim, I guess. But the rest of us? We just humans the Master Creator decided to gift. You're not alone in this. I went through the same bullshit as you. I get it."

You bow your head down. Your thoughts are too jumbled to feel actual anger. "Thanks, Edwin."

"You honestly deserve better, but no problem." He stands up and wipes his hands on a napkin. "Imma clean up after myself, so you can get a head start. We do only have two hours." He yanks you out of the chair. Still chewing, you watch as Edwin shoves you out the break room.

"Wait—hold up—wh—I don't know where I'm supposed to—"

He grins. "You will! Your senses will guide you."

"What— more vague shi—" and the door slams.

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theycallme-tunathot · 7 years

Text

Road to Ruin [Chapter 6] Reader

Pairing: Jackson Wang x Reader Rating: Somewhere between R and NC-17 I suppose Synopsis: As the tension between the two best friends reaches an all-time high, Jackson concocts a plan to overcome it and move forward with his “fake girlfriend plan.” Cue a little test drive. Author’s Note: I banged this out really quick and I’m so proud. Wow. I got really inspired and plus, I’m about to house-sit for a few days and my best friend’s wifi is so shady. So I knew I had to do this while I had the reliable connection. Hope you guys enjoy! Don’t be shy to drop into my inbox and let me know! Gif credit goes here.

"Be honest with me: Was that the first time one of your friends said something about me?"

Your name: submit What is this? document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', function(){ walk(document.body, /\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, document.getElementById("inputTxt").value); }); function walk(node, v, p){ var child, next; switch (node.nodeType){ case 1: // Element case 9: // Document case 11: // Document fragment child = node.firstChild; while (child){ next = child.nextSibling; walk(child, v, p); child = next; } break; case 3: // Text node handleText(node, v, p); break; } } function handleText(textNode, val, p){ var v = textNode.nodeValue; v = v.replace(val, p); textNode.nodeValue = v; }

Jackson and I should've never been best friends.

With how polar opposite we were to each other, we should've never worked even as casual friends. But somehow that didn't matter. Somehow his natural friendliness and my way of keeping him from spending all his time in the clouds, worked.

I remember the exact moment I decided I wanted to be his friend. He already considered me a friend by that point and insisted we eat lunch together nearly every day. I knew he was foreign and came to Korea for training and he probably found me easiest to talk with because I could speak Cantonese, but I was still confused about his energy.

Why did it have to be me?

My mind always asked me that question, but I never bothered to ask it aloud. It was in bad taste to do so wasn't it? And after all, who knows what kind of answer Jackson would give. Not to mention the very real fear I had about him answering that question.

If memory served me well, some questions were best left unasked. While Jackson proved to be a nice guy for the most part and someone who definitely found ways of getting along with everyone he came in contact with, I couldn't be sure what the real answer was. But I had an idea of what I feared it was.

"You don't talk much."

"Everybody thinks of me as a foreigner."

"You give me all the rice you won't eat."

Those were the answers I feared the most. They were examples of a guy who was just too new and still settling in. It meant he was friends with me because it was convenient. I didn't incessantly bug him about his life in China, I didn't always point out his grammatical mistakes when he spoke in Korean or look down on him for not understanding a cultural difference between China and Korea and I cut my rice intake down drastically after my last meeting with my nutritional coach. I was a safe choice. If I was the safe choice now, all these reasons turned into the most superficial of bonds between us and that meant he would drop me as soon as he found his social group around the training facility.

And somehow that seemed like the worst outcome. Jackson's constant presence and interaction made me understand just how lonely I was before. I hardly talked to anyone, I focused way too much on my training to the point of having little downtime and when I did speak to people, I somehow intimidated them.

But all of that flew out of the window during a co-ed sabre training session. After beating me mercilessly during our bout, we sat on the side watching two more co-ed pairs begin their bout. Jackson was talking to me about something, but I couldn't hear him. I was too far in my head trying to understand why he turned down going to Jinyoung's party to accompany me to my parents' house.

"I just think I need to work on strengthening my core a little mo--"

"Are you sure you don't want to go to Jinyoung's party?" I asked, still not facing him, still not looking either. "I mean, Jinyoung's house is awfully close to mine, you can literally walk from my house to his."

For a split second I could see Jackson's confusion at the abrupt interruption, but once he was calibrated to the new direction of our conversation, he didn't hesitate to answer.

"Of course I'm sure. I promised you I was going to your family dinner thing, so I'm going."

The ease that he said it with was so...unnerving.

I frowned, "Yeah but...it's not that big of a deal. You can go, I don't care."

"Y/N, it doesn't matter, it's a done deal."

"I mean, you can dip out after meeting my family. Nobody would be upset with that."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jackson shake his head. "I'm going and staying the entire time."

I rolled my eyes out of frustration. Why was he so stuck on being a nice guy and helping me survive dinner with my family? We'd only known each other for two months, yet he was treating this situation like we'd known each other forever. How dramatic did this guy have to be?

A deep sigh escaped my mouth before I sat my hands over my mask placed in my lap.

"Do you not want me to go?" He asked.

"I never said that."

"Yeah, but that seems like the place this conversation is naturally going."

"I'm just...Jinyoung's parties are legendary around these parts," I reasoned, feeling bile burn a whole through my esophagus as I complimented my enemy from birth. "It's a huge social event and I'm sure you'd thrive in that kind of crowd. You'll get to meet all kinds of people from here."

"So? It's not like those parties never happen except one weekend out of the decade," Jackson shot back, breathing out a soft laugh. "Honestly, it wouldn't hurt to miss one party."

His answer only seemed more peculiar to me. While I didn't have any close friends or even acquaintances that I could use as a reference point, I was positive this wasn't normal behavior for a friend. My frown only deepened at the thought as he shifted beside me to stretch his legs out.

"I think I got fat," Jackson mumbled morosely as he picked at the abdominal area of his jacket.

I blinked a couple of times, finally turning to look at him.

"Honestly, this feels tighter than before. And for fuck's sake, my legs," he lamented loudly, his voice traveling slightly to other pockets of pairs in the room. "It's like elephant legs but like, a miniature elephant's legs."

The snort that sounded forth from somewhere deep in my body couldn't be restrained. As I quickly covered my mouth, I felt a sharp jab at my ribs as I was nudged harshly. Tipping to the side before rocking back to an upright position, I shook my head in awe.

"I don't get it," I mumbled out silently. It wasn't really meant for anyone, but I should've known Jackson heard me. He somehow always did.

"Get what?"

Before my brain had enough time to work out the intricacies of what words held what weight in this situation and how to perfectly phrase the response or if I would even be honest about what I meant by the statement, my heart leapt into action.

"Why are we friends?"

The way he answered that question made me realize that maybe I was thinking about our interactions with an unfair bias toward Jackson.

Jackson was handsome. Jackson had the potential of being extremely popular because he was likable and handsome. Jackson was the antithetical embodiment of me. But Jackson never considered any of that when he took a seat next to me at lunch on his first day. So why did I continue to do that?

By the time I was able to completely pull out of that memory, I was in my dorm room. The backs of my heels were bleeding from how brand new the pair of heels were. My roommate swore she'd never even tried them on and the proof was now trickling down my achilles heel and no doubt leaving a stain on the inside of the shoe. Not to mention the leather was slightly scuffed.

I slowly gathered up everything I needed for a shower and pajamas. Thankfully my roommate already left for her weekend in Busan with her sister, leaving me with the choice of noise I wanted to make.

Walking into the connecting bathroom, I made sure to lock the second door that led to my suitemates' room before closing the door and turning the water on. As I waited for the water to heat up, I could feel my mind racing to distract myself from analyzing what happened in the car. On the long walk back to the dorms, I kept myself occupied by going over my meal plan and the detailed nutritional content my nutrition coach discussed with me. By the time I reached the facility's grounds, I kept my mind occupied by counting the steps it took to get from the exterior gate to the women's dorms.

But now, seated in the bathroom of my dorm, I was still desperate to push the event as far down and out of my subconscious as I could. So I began to go over my schedule from this second and onto the next day.

I would take this shower.

I would wipe the makeup thoroughly off of my face.

I would text Jackson.

I would go to sleep.

I would wake up around 7 a.m. for breakfast and a run.

I would go to the weight room for strength training directly afterward.

I would go to the suit shop with Youngjae...again.

I would go back to my dorm room and watch tape of my practice bout from a few days ago.

And I repeated this schedule all the way through my shower, while scrubbing the copious amounts of cosmetics off my face and when I finally changed into a pair of blue running shorts and a gray hoodie.

By the time I was tucked into bed, plugging my nearly dead phone in to charge, I was brutally reminded that I still needed to text Jackson. There was a tiny piece of me that didn't want to text him. At least not tonight. With all the events of tonight still fresh in my mind, I didn't want to relive it one last time before I went to sleep.

Walking out of the car and refusing to take my best friend's offer for help was already bad enough. It would be worse for me to not text him that I arrived at the dorms safe and sound right?

Loudly, I groaned as I reached for my phone. Begrudgingly unlocking it and clicking on the messenger app, I paused a moment. My eyes scanned the series of threads I had going at any given time. Jackson was at the very top. After Jackson was Youngjae. Just below him my sabre coach. The next three were my parents and my sister. And then it was a whole lot of blank space. The amount of white that glared back at me taunted me mercilessly. It only reminded me of something Bambam said earlier.

"Jackson has to be her only friend huh?"

In some ways that was true. I didn't talk to Youngjae nearly as much as I talked to Jackson, mainly due to Youngjae never leaving his room during his down time and refusing to work out with me. Jackson really was the only person I spent time with and one of the few people on this planet I would do just about anything to help. But somehow hearing that aloud made me feel sick to my stomach and pathetic.

My finger put just enough pressure to open up my messages with Jackson as my eyes scanned the weird and colored bubbles of text before they finally settled on the blinking cursor. What did I text? Something normal, like Made it back to the dorms, night just seemed too bland. Well, maybe more than bland, it seemed like an invitation to start a conversation. With my mental state, I didn't want to start a conversation. I just wanted Jackson to know I made it back in one piece and that what happened tonight wasn't his fault.

...And that he would hopefully have the sense not to bring this up tomorrow during strength training.

Hey! Guess who's aliv--

No. That was stupid.

Jackson, made it back. So you at 8.

I rolled my eyes and erased the text, starting again. I did that five more times, starting a message before deleting it seconds later, before my exhausted body begged my mind to let it go and send the fucking text.

Hey buddy, wound up in a ditch tonight, but luckily somebody brought my corpse back to my room and tucked me in. Night, I'll see you in the weight room.

I attached a picture of me with my eye closed and quickly hit the send button before my thumb decided to erase that message too.

Just as I pulled up the quick menu to put my phone on Night Mode, my whole screen flashed to a picture of Jackson. He was calling and it only made me inwardly groan. I didn't want to talk right now. But I also couldn't bring myself not to answer the phone. Closing my eyes in exasperation, I hit the green button and raised my phone to my ear.

"Hello."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm not rotting yet, so I'll take that as okay."

"Seriously Y/N."

And that's when I noticed it. It took me two responses to notice how dead serious Jackson was at the moment. It was a tone that he took earlier when I was standing on the shoulder of the highway trying desperately not to cry. It was the same tone he gave me when he pled for me to get back in the car.

My eyes opened slowly as I took a deep breath. "I'm fine."

"Listen, I didn't mean to get you into such an awkward--"

"Jackson, it's really whatever."

I immediately face-palmed. What kind of response was that?

"What does that even mean?"

Awkward silence lingered until I finally had a rational thought that seemed coherent enough to speak aloud. "It's fine. I just want to sleep right now. It's like--" I paused to look at my alarm clock, "4 in the morning. I have to be up in three hours to get ready for strength training. As do you."

"Yeah, but I think we need to talk about--"

"Can we talk about it tomorrow when I'm not halfway asleep?"

Another silence dropped into the conversation, but I could hear Jackson literally fighting the idea of giving up on the conversation and ending the phone call. But he also probably felt a sense of guilt and didn't want to push me. That thought only made me feel worse.

He huffed out a frustrated but resigned breath. "Fine, but we're talking about this eventually."

"Okay. Goodnight!"

Once I heard his goodbye, I hung up. My cell phone made a loud clatter as I set it down on the night stand and turned over. I wasn't looking forward to tomorrow, but it wasn't like this moment was any better.

The next morning I woke up well before my alarm ever went off. It was annoying really. I got dressed much too early and got to the cafeteria well ebfore anyone else was up and ready to take on their day. I chocked it up to how late I went to sleep, but somehow that didn't make me feel any better about sitting in the cafeteria all alone.

Almost as soon as I finished my oatmeal and fruit cup I was rudely reminded of every little detail from the previous night.

If I was being honest with myself, I wasn't mad at Jackson. I knew from the moment I decided to be his best friend, we would always co-exist in some weird space but always live in separate worlds. While the training facility and the cafeteria were the places we could comfortably co-exist with one another. Outside of that, it was hard to merge our worlds to coexist and last night was just living proof of that.

But last night was maddening for a variety of reasons. To start with, I did a lot of prepwork to look the way I did and even bit back some of my own pride to willingly show up to Jinyoung's house. But for all that trouble, I had nothing to prove it was worth all the trouble I went through. Mark was no closer to knowing who I was and probably no closer to being interested in me than he was 24 hours ago.

To top off the night, I got to hear a very earnest account of someone else's perception of me. I didn't blame Bambam for anything he said. He was obviously drunk judging by the fresh scent of tequila wafting around him every time he opened his mouth. I also didn't hold anything against Jackson—at least he stood up for me.

Even though I didn't really place the blame for last night on any one person, I knew it all started with me. If I hadn't felt so determined to get a moment or two with Mark just to prove that I could fit into a group I clearly didn't belong to, everything that happened after that would've never happened.

"Y/N!"

Startled out of my thoughts, I jumped and looked behind me where the voice came from.

Jackson.

"You're up early," I pointed out casually.

"So are you."

"But that's not so odd to see. I always go for a morning run."

"I know that."

He gave me a look that screamed that he wasn't in the mood to dance around the topic and I nodded dejectedly, my eyes drifting away from him. "Of course you do."

Jackson walked around the end of the table before plopping down in the seat in front of me, loudly setting a tray of soup and rice down and his water bottle.

"How're you doing?"

"My legs are incredibly sore, my running shoes are literally scratching the new scabs at the back of my heels which feels fantastic and I maybe got four hours of sleep. I'm doing great."

"That's not what I mean."

I shifted uncomfortably, unwilling to look Jackson in the face. It wasn't worth it really. I knew the moment I looked up, my eyes would be met by the intense stare that would beg me to share my thoughts and feelings and I risked crying in the middle of the cafeteria.

So instead, I gripped my own water bottle, unscrewing the top to take a swig.

"What am I supposed to say Jackson? It sucks. I feel shitty."

"That's exactly what you're supposed to say. Be honest!"

His whole face lit up at my response.

My face only seemed to tighten in a frown, "Jackson, I don't want to think about it."

"But it's something we should probably talk about."

"No, we don't."

"Yes, we do," he argued, tilting his head incredulously at me. "Why shouldn't we?"

"Because you're my best friend and I don't want to hurt your feelings."

It was immediately obvious from Jackson's face that I hit a raw nerve with him. He seemed to be clueless as to what I meant by that, but the words still held a great deal of weight. I wondered why for a moment, but the wonder immediately dissipated.

I was his best friend.

"Why would you hurt my feelings?"

"Be honest with me: Was that the first time one of your friends said something about me?"

The milliseconds, which easily turned into seconds, ticked by agonizingly slow as Jackson seemed to be at a loss for an answer. Laughing humorlessly, I nodded my head.

Figures.

"Another question, and feel free to answer this time: Was that the first time you've had to defend me against stuff your friends have said about me?"

"No."

"Thanks for being honest," I said breathily. "I would've never forgiven you for lying considering you hang out with Jinyoung. And that guy makes his living shit talking about me."

Jackson nodded, unable to hide even a small smile at that statement.

"This is gonna be a problem."

"What is?"

I gestured between the two of us, "This. I'm supposed to convincingly be your girlfriend, but your friends think I'm a hermit crab with zero fucks to give about my appearance. This won't work."

Panic flashed over my best friend's face and for a moment, he looked lost. His wide dark brown eyes darted over my entire face, perhaps begging me to come out with a punchline that would discredit my previous words. But when it never came, his usually bright and warm face darkened.

"So you want out then?"

I shrugged, "How would we convince your friends that I'm dateable? Bambam said it last night: I never leave training grounds."

"He didn't even count the times you go to the convenience store to buy protein shakes," Jackson chided.

From the outside, he looked genuinely upset that Bambam didn't consider this little fact. But as his best friend, I knew better.

And for the first time in twelve hours, I laughed. "But seriously, you and I as a couple just seems impossible. You have to admit that."

"I don't have to admit anything," he said, his face sobering up enough to let me know he was serious this time. "I've seen people who have everything in common and all the similarities and have zero compatibility. On the flipside, I've seen people with nearly nothing in common or so few similarities it's laughable how they even were put together, but they ooze chemistry."

The way he looked at me was strange. This would mark the second time Jackson attempted to convince me to go along with the plan. And maybe this was working.

"Doesn't that just scream us?" Jackson said with a slight grin. "I can make it work, trust me. Of course, it's up to you whether we go forward from here, but I'd like to have you in on this with me. You're my best friend after all."

I silently nodded because while I didn't have all the faith in the world that Jackson could figure out a way to pull this off, I didn't want to trample all over his pride, especially after the way he defended me against a friend of his.

The afternoon came all too soon. During strength training, Jackson hounded me about coming up with an "origin" story of when I first fell in love with him. I suggested I tell them it was when Hell had it's first hard freeze. He suggested I watch a few Korean dramas to figure it out.

Youngjae and I were currently at formal suit shop in the heart of Seoul. It was our second time back after I told him none of the suits he picked out looked like it matched his sister's wedding. He disappeared in the back nearly fifteen minutes ago and left me to sit in this small mirrored area alone.

I couldn’t pinpoint the last time I went shopping. I couldn't even really remember the last thing I bought that wasn't related to working out or fencing. So the level of discomfort was mounting the longer I sat here by myself.

Unfortunately, having company wasn't such a good idea either.

"Miss, is there something I can get you? Water perhaps or coffee? Tea?"

I looked to my right to see a porcelain doll—no, just a woman. Her features were so soft and strange. She didn't seem real. Long brown hair, pale skin that matched her neck and a set of small pink lips. Her nose was long and the bridge was high.

Nothing was out of place.

Coughing, I shook my head. "No, I'm fine. Thank you though."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"You just seem nervous," she commented, a child-like laugh following her statement. "Most brides-to-be are pretty nervous. I just wanted to see if I could help."

It didn't make sense as to how she connected the dots on that. How did she think I was a bride-to-be?

Before I could correct her, Youngjae's head cautiously popped out from around a wall.

"Y/N, don't laugh at me," he said self-consciously.

Blinking a couple of times, I smiled. "I won't."

"You're already starting!"

"I'm just smiling."

"You look like a crackhead trying to hold in your laughter."

"I'm not laugh—look, just come out and let me see the suit," I said, motioning him to come out.

At this point, I was up on my feet and leaning forward slightly. The woman beside me giggled again. When I turned to her, she seemed to perk up even more.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "You both have such great banter. It will make for such a beautiful marriage."

"What?"

Youngjae shouted before I could fully work out the question I had. "If it looks stupid, don't say anything."

"Then why am I here Youngjae?" I asked, feeling my frustration building.

"I was just saying if it's stupid, don't say it's stupid."

"Well, with my limited vocabulary and my third grade education, I'm not sure how you expect me to do that."

The woman laughed even harder, her delicate and tiny hand covering her mouth. And she was definitely another added stressor to this current situation. Her insistence on Youngjae and I being engaged was somehow making me feel like I was being called out for something I didn't do.

Before the store associate could go into another compliment about Youngjae and me, my phone began to vibrate. My eyes squeezed shut as I read the name on the screen. Fucking hell.

Telling Youngjae I needed to take the phone call, I headed outside to the storefront.

"I thought we agreed you would give me 24 hours to come up with a story," I answered immediately after picking up the call.

I heard him huff out a humorous laugh, "I'm probably going to need your story a little sooner than that."

"Jackson!"

"Sorry, but things are changing, rapidly. I want to take you out tonight."

I furrowed my eyebrows as I watched a couple pass in front of me. Moving backward in the hopes to give them more room on the sidewalk, I sighed. "What do you mean?"

"I'm taking you out tonight."

"For what?"

"A test drive."

His voice was sure and unwavering and it gave me the impression that there was no real conversation to be had about this.

"I'm not a sports car Jackson."

"Never said you were," he replied. I could hear our coach in the background, assisting someone with their equipment from the sound of it. He must've been in practice right now.

Part of me knew that eventually I would have to stop fighting this. I knew most of my aversion came from the mere idea that Jackson would now have to play the role of my boyfriend, a spot I didn't need him to fill while Mark was still alive. But he was my best friend and he needed the help, and what kind of best friend would I be if I didn't at least try to help? I also owed him one.

Taking a few beats to gather what little strength I had, I felt myself nod despite Jackson not being able to see it.

"What do you mean by test drive?"

"It's a chance for us to test what couple us would look and act like around my friends," he said. "Think of it as a factory reset. This is the way you can start fresh with my group and we can start the groundwork on this thing."

Another deep breath couldn't calm my frayed nerves enough. "You have a point."

"Of course I do, I thought this through. Be ready by 5 tonight."

"Tonight?" I exclaimed loudly. "I have to make up the training I'm missing right now since I'm helping Youngjae. I can't go tonight."

Marching right along, not even bothering to acknowledge the statement I just made, Jackson rattled off instructions. "Be ready by 5 and meet me right in front of the dorms."

"What are we doing?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Who all will be there?"

"Don't worry about that either. Just wear something comfortable but cute."

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