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spectres-n-soap · 4 months

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I Scream and Scream, Can You Hear Me? - Soap x Reader x Ghost

Content Warnings - Pregnancy Complications, Screaming, Angst central.

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You spill your heart out and the tears don't stop. "I don't want to do this." You admit first, "I can't do this." Mrs. MacTavish stares at you, her mouth going dry as you go on. "He's supposed to be here. Not you." You look at Simon who looks like he was just struck by lightning. "Johnny is meant to be here and he isn't and it's eating me alive." You sob and grab at your head before she's pulling your hands back down.

"I didnae ken." She whispers and you shake your head as the tears roll down your face. Your stomach hurts and you can't even tell if it's from the baby or how much emotion is trying to drown you.

"I love him and every time I see your husbands and daughters eyes it's him. He's fucking everywhere but here with me." You yell and they exchange looks.

"You should lay down love." Simon mutters and places a hand on your upper arm. You practically snarl at him as you push his hand away.

"Don't touch me! I didn't even want you here but you forced yourself into my life."

"I'm just-"

"I don't care! I don't care. I don't care." You repeat. "Johnny is dead and I know that, you know that, everyone here fucking knows that! Yet here you are, trying to take his place."

"I'm not trying to take his place."

"Then why does it feel like it? Why did you sit in my office every fucking day waiting for me, to force me into letting you help? Because you wanted to take his place, that's why." You stand up quickly and yank yourself from Mrs. MacTavish's grip. "I didn't even want this fucking baby shower!" You rip down the decorations. "Take your presents back, I don't want them." You push a bag into Mr. MacTavish.

"If ye didnae want it then ye should have told us." Mr. MacTavish says and he doesn't even sound angry. Not even disappointed. Shocked and sad. You yank open the closet door and grab the box filled with mementos and his ashes.

"I can't take it." You storm into your bedroom and Simon tries to follow you with Johnny's parents right behind him but you slam the door and lock it. "Leave! I don't want to see any of you!"

"Love-" You slam your hand on the door and yell at him not to call you that. That you aren't his love. You're just some girl Johnny got pregnant before he died. Simon sighs and looks to the parents, Mrs. MacTavish hides her face in her husband's chest who holds her. Her body shakes with silent sobs. Simon's lips thin but he herds them out of the flat as he ignores the way his stomach keeps sinking.

You're lying in bed, stomach cramping as you cry into your soaked pillow. You're holding his bag of ashes close to your chest when the tears run out and your throat hurts from wailing. Everything hurts if you're honest with yourself. Your eyes, stomach, feet, throat. Your back of course. You lay on your side and stare at the wall, light from passing cars shine through the window and onto the wall is the only change. You can't recall crying like this when you found he died. Just a bitter numbness that consumed you. You want the numbness back. It's better than rage and sorrow and guilt.

It's better than being aware of this hole inside you.

Your phone was off, the battery had died hours ago and only now do you reach for the charger and plug it in. You hiss when your baby kicks at you. "Bugger off." You mutter as the screen lights up with the phone company's icon. It surprises you to only see a few texts from Johnny's family but Simon had made up for their lack of texts and calls. Your hand shakes as you enter your code and unlock your phone. Your thumb hovers over the messaging app before you quickly lock your phone again and toss it away.

You turn over onto your other side and shut your eyes

You cringed when you landed hard on the mat again. It did nothing to stop the throbbing in your head as you glared daggers into Gaz who grinned at you. Cheeky fucking bastard. He didn't need to say anything for the taunt to be loud and clear.

What's got your head in the clouds?

You glanced over at Soap who was currently using the weight rack with Ghost spotting him. His tank top was cut low and his sweat made it nearly see through. His grunts of effort made your head fuzzy. The confession you had whispered with kiss swollen lips also kept replaying in your head just as his cheeky smile lived in it.

"I ken."

"Come on." Gaz laughed and pulled you up. "If you're gonna keep ogling at Soap I don't wanna spar."

"I'm not ogling." You defended and Gaz rolled his eyes.

"Sure and I'm the queen of England." He laughed and you punched his arm.

"I'm not." You insisted and he shrugged.

"Then beat me like I know you can."

You sit up with a start, a scream tore through your throat as your nervous system fills with white hot pain. You grit your teeth as your stomach cramps over and over again, tears run down your cheeks as you curl in on yourself. You try to breathe through it but somehow it makes it worse. You reach for your phone, hands quivering but find nothing where it normally is. Then you remember tossing it away from the bed and you curse yourself.

Fighting through the pain, constantly reminding yourself of when you got shot in the arm and shoulder that one time, you crawl towards the edge of the bed. You can see your phone on the floor and you reach for it, barely able to touch it as you drag it closer. You unlock it with your fingerprint as a sob escapes you. You look at the contacts and for a moment, you consider calling Simon. You stare at his contact for just a second longer then dial 999. You struggle to talk to the operator between gritting your teeth and sobbing through the pain but manage to feed her the information she needs to send an ambulance.

You hear your apartment door shatter and for some reason, you think of the repair bill that you'll need to pay later as the medics rush to you. You can't hear them past the ringing in your ears or the pain that keeps everything drowned out whenever the ringing subsides for a few moments. Black dots swim in your vision as the medics talk to each other and then the world snaps to black.

The first thing you smell is the sterile scent of a hospital room and then the lights burn through your eyelids, you groan but can't find the strength to shield your eyes. Then you can hear.

"What happened?" A gruff voice asks.

"The doctor thinks stress has put more risk with the pregnancy. Did something happen yesterday? Something upsetting Mr. Riley?"

Tag list @h0n3y-l3m0n05

#john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap #call of duty #cod #john soap mctavish x you #ghost x reader #mw3 spoilers #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x soap x reader #soap x reader #cod mw3

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cissa-calls · 5 months

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Rewatching Crimson Peak & Things of Focus and Notice:

As a child at her mothers funeral, Edith wears butterfly/moth earrings

Is the pen her father gifts her the one she later uses to stab Lucille? He describes the importance of having “The right tool for the job,” is that foreshadowing for gifting her the tool to begin her escape from Crimson Peak?

Is Edith wearing a butterfly hair clip when she dances the waltz with Thomas?

Lucille’s iconic crimson red gown is so detailed, so beautiful. It represents the skeletal ghosts with its spinal column along the back, crimson peak itself in color, the carapace of a bug on the sleeves and structure, and the upper bodice has trim that blooms outward (present similarly in her blue gown) but is bisected by buttons…creating a familiar shape…a moth?

The candle they hold during the waltz is held at the same level Edith holds her iconic candelabra, a subtle parallel

The trim on the collar of Lucille’s black dress references the spikes and trims of gothic architecture - which is very heavily featured in Allerdale Hall

Lucille says that: “At home we only have Black moths, formidable creatures but they lack beauty.” Knowing the parallel between her and moths, it implies that she sees herself as a survivor and powerful, but something no longer beautiful because of it

Lucille places the butterfly she holds directly into the ants, an action that’s brutal but quick. Is it foreshadowing to her execution of Edith’s death? Something quick for such a beautiful thing, done by her hand?

The LOOK Lucille gives Thomas when they realize Edith’s father knows their past. THE LOOK (JESSICA CHASTAIN YOUR ACTING)

“You seem the more collected one my dear” Lucille is called this. She always holds the mission undetered in her mind, as opposed to Thomas who seems more easily swayed by emotions

When Thomas breaks Edith’s heart by ripping apart her book. He says: “What do you dream of? A kind man? A pure soul to be redeemed? A wounded bird to be nourished?” He is telling her exactly what he is. None of those things, none of the dreams she has built of him in her mind. Not with a past and life such as his.

The significance of gramophones and wax cylinders: it is what plays when Edith’s father is murdered, it is also what saves her from meeting the same fate

I want to know more about Lucille!! Her character is so rich, so so complex, she needs more screen time!!

Need a prop replica of the ring NOW

[the house] “is a privilege we were born into, one we can never relinquish” METAPHOR ALERT METAPHOR ALERT metaphor for the cycles of abuse and trauma they could not break

HOW THE FRICK did I MISS the fact that Thomas’ workshop is in the attic when that was where him and Lucille were locked up as children. SO MANY IMPORTANT SCENES HAPPEN THERE. So many significant to their past we never see, so many ghosts not visible but are so real and present to have caused this

The trail of smoke like red essence that emanates from the ghosts as they walk, like they are still bleeding

Lucille’s hair looks black in darker lighting, but a dark brunette in others. It’s provides a black, dark shroud when she’s in America, and catches more light when she’s in Allerdale Hall

“I like to think she can see us from up there. I don’t want her to miss a single thing we do.” UM MA’AM

“…in time, everything will be right” LUCILLE QUEEN OF FINAL OMINOUS STATEMENTS IN SCENES

The amount I WISH to explore this set. To pry apart each detail and pick apart each piece, so much of it had to be handcrafted pieces for the movie or vintage pieces sourced for it. LET ME IN

THE LIGHTING MUAH

The ghost in the hallway has a rope dragging behind her…is this a gory detail, or an allusion to how she may have died (if not by poison)?

The ghost in Edith’s dream is pointing, though it is never shown to what. Is it to the exit, her warning to leave as all the other ghosts try to do?

The children’s laughter after the presumed scream of their mother’s ghost as she is stabbed, is it just for creepy effect, or did Lucille and Thomas actually laugh after they murdered her?

The scar on Lucille’s lip? Never noticed it before!

Not the first time I’ve noticed it, but the act of her clutching hot steaming food with her bare hands is chilling every single time

Were the bodies of Thomas’s wives left in the vats of clay? I don’t know HOW I didn’t make that connection before, originally i thought it was merely for creepy effect.

Many people villainize Lucille and try to make Thomas out to be solely a victim. But as stated in the wax cylinder, he was fueled by his desire to pay for and make his machine. Him and Lucille are both complacent in using their victims money for their own gain

We need to bring Chatelaine’s back into fashion. That is all.

The scrape of the spoon over the porcelain cup, it screeches and is a subtle way that shows Lucille act of caring has a harshness to it, an unpleasant sound resulting from an otherwise pleasant action: tending to Edith

Such an interesting camera choice to have the camera focus in a circular inwards and outwards

also also Lucille has a temple scar on her forehead?

The small amount of glee Lucille takes saying Edith “thought [she] was was a writer” as she throws the pages to her novel in the fire.

The absolute deadpan, matter-of-fact-ness Lucille has to Edith when she signs the papers “you have nothing to live for” & “mercy killings.” This is a familiar repeated cycle

“Sign your name! Sign your bloody name!” Bloody is not just for emphasis. Edith’s name is soon to be nothing but blood

Lucille’s night gown sleeves as she flies down the stairs in pursuit - like a moths wings fluttering towards its prey

Lucille and Edith fought each other with bare feet on the stone and in the snow

Lucille is the only one of the two who knows how to start Thomas’s machine, because she was the one who witnessed it working

It is only the stab wound on Thomas’ face that bleeds and smokes when he is a ghost, perhaps because it is the wound that bears his betrayal by Lucille, reminiscent of tears of his lingering pain

Edith now has a facial scar, gifted to her by Lucille, who bore ones of her own. It is a passage, a continuing of the cycle, but it is its finale. It is Edith’s souvenir from Lucille, who took her own souvenir (her hair) from the other like a prize

#a very exhaustive list from my most recent rewatch of one of MY FAVORITE MOVIES #crimson peak #many many thoughts #lucille sharpe #edith cushing #thomas sharpe #cissarambles

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cherryxcadbury · 1 year

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OK HERE'S YOUR NEY REQUEST:

You know that drake song "childs play"? In the intro of the song a guy says something along the lines of "if your girl asks you to go to a nba game.. she is probably fcking some guy on that team". My idea for you: how would ney react to you asking him to acompany you to a man city game? Idk maybe mix in some sweet jealousy and him being excited when haaland loses?

Love ya take care xoxo

love love love you xx

I used to not understand anyone’s attraction to Neymar, bc he’s a bit older than me. but now, I get it, I really do.

2nd person pov

“Look what I got!” You smirked as you walked into the sitting room where your boyfriend, Neymar was lying on the couch, scrolling through his phone.

He quirked an eyebrow at you.

You flashed him two tickets, Manchester City vs. Arsenal.

“Come with me to the Man City game! They’re going to be playing in London, Emirates Stadium.” You begged.

Neymar sat up, his phone barely hanging onto the sofa.

“Why do you want to go watch this game? It’s just a regular premier league match.” Neymar questioned.

You rolled your eyes at his question.

“It’s going to be such a good match. Arteta, Jesus, and Zinchenko against their old team! And I finally get to see Haaland live!”

Neymar narrowed his eyes at the last part of your sentence.

“Haaland eh?”

You nodded enthusiastically, “He’s so good! Honestly better than Mbappe.”

Neymar furiously shook his head, “There is no youngster better than Kylian.”

You had to stop from laughing. It was clear he was a bit jealous.

“Whatever. So you coming? Or are you too jealous?”

His eyes bulged out of his sockets.

“I’m not jealous.”

You rolled your eyes at his clear lie before he pulled you to sit on the couch with him. He cupped your face, and kissed you deeply.

You pulled away at a loss for words, while he pulled away with a smirk.

“Still want to go to that match? We can just stay here you know…” He suggested.

It was your turn to smirk now.

“Of course! I spent a fortune on those tickets. Come on!” You had decided. ***

“Right here.” You gestured to a set of two seats in the fourth row.

Despite your wishes to wear a kit from one of the teams playing, your boyfriend had convinced you to wear one of his many Brazil hoodies. You wore a gray set of leggings underneath, paired with the viral ugg booties. Neymar on the other hand, wore a plain white hoodie with some branding, and tight black jeans with slight rips in them. He of course paired this with a baseball cap and some trendy Jordans.

Once a fashion icon, always a fashion icon.

You both sat down into your seats and got comfortable. The match was just about to start.

“I’m thirsty.” You whispered to Neymar, signaling for the bottle of water in his hand.

“Thirsty?” He smirked.

“Why didn’t you say so earlier we could’ve just stayed home in Paris an…” He began to say.

You slapped his leg and shot him a look, “Get your head out of the gutter idiot.”

“How am I supposed to when you’re sitting there looking like that in my sweatshirt?”

You rolled your eyes at his lack of self control.

Within a few minutes, the match had begun. Manchester City was very clearly dominating, as expected. Haaland had several chances courtesy De Bruyne but had been unlucky thus far.

Neymar had told you he’d be rooting for Arsenal. This was a bit strange to you because he’d never been an Arsenal supporter in the slightest. He claimed it was because Arsenal had a more overwhelming number of Brazilian players than Man City so he needed to support “his boys.” To you however, it just didn’t add up.

He was enjoying the game though. When Arsenal went up 1-0, thanks to a Jesus goal, his grin became wider. Neymar would constantly look over at you to see what you were thinking, what you were feeling.

Things changed however in the 86th minute, when Man City scored on a Haaland goal. Like many other away fans, the terrific strike brought you to your feet and you cheered as loud as possible, much to Neymar’s disappointment. You’d figured he was a bit jealous. And if he wanted to play this game, so be it.

“COME ON!” Cheers were heard all around you.

Neymar face curled up into a scowl as he watched you clap for Haaland’s goal. Once you finally sat back down, his arm was again around your waist, trying to bring you as close as possible to him. Your head rested on his shoulder while his head rested on yours.

“City’s gonna win.” You whispered to him.

“Not if my boys have a say in it.” He mumbled back, kissing your cheek.

You turned to face him and stuck your tongue out at his smug look.

Truth be told, on the inside, he was praying Arsenal didn’t lose. He couldn’t bear watch you cheer for City again.

In the 89th minute, his wish came true. City defender Nathan Ake was unable to track back fast enough, and was so match for Bukayo Saka who received the ball and banged it in the net.

Your mouth had fallen open, and Neymar had gone to his feet, cheering as loud as possible.

He looked down at you in your seat and shot you a wide smirk while you gave him a pissed look. He sat back down and grabbed your chin before kissing you again. The stadiums cameras had been able to find you two meanwhile.

After pulling away, you and Neymar had realised you were on the cameras (pretend they do this at the Emirates, idk if they do). You looked down and blushed while Neymar shot a wink at the camera. Eventually, the cameras found someone else to bother and the match ended, with Arsenal winning. Neymar had a smug look on his face when you two were leaving the stadium.

“Just say it.” You sighed.

“Haaland was kind of invisible today, don’t you think?” He smirked.

“He still scored Ney.”

“Yeah but they lost.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “He’s still a star.”

Neymar furrowed his brow, “And me?”

His jealousy was insane.

You turned to face him, and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You’ll always be my superstar.”

as a spurs supporter, writing abt an arsenal win was quite painful.

as a side note, thank u sm for ur requests! I’m writing them based on which ones I’m feeling! but at some point, they’ll all be done.

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yankpop · 2 years

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Yandere NCT Dream: Forcing you to marry them

All copyrights belong to @yankpop (aka me) so do not post/translate my works on any other platforms without my consent/knowledge.

Check more: Masterlist.

Female reader

WARNINGS: Forced marriages; blackmail; implied kidnapping; extreme manipulation.

AN: I'm not back to writing, I don't really know if I'll come back but don't worry, I won't delete the account. I have some works in drafts that I want to publish cause I don't have inspiration to write anything anymore. Enjoy it :)

Mark

“And I just hope that even though it’s an arranged marriage, we get comfortable and get to know each other since we’re spending the rest of our lives together.” Mark tries his best to put you at ease through his words, even if it doesn’t seem to work. You’re still avoiding him, your eyes fixated on the ground.

Your lack of reaction makes Mark awkwardly scratch his head, not knowing how to deal with your shy attitude. You are probably trying to get used to this new reality, he tries to convince himself.

Getting married by arranged marriage was definitely not something you probably wanted for yourself, but Mark knew he couldn’t let you escape. His parents were long-term friends with yours and although neither you or Mark spoke more than a few words through the years, he still managed to convince his parents to settle the marriage between the two of you.

Your parent’s knew he was a decent guy who’d treat their daughter right, so they had no issue with this “arrangement”. Exactly how Mark expected it.

Now, all he has to do is to convince you that he’s perfect for you, cause he is. Mark wants to give you his everything, all the happiness in this world and he knows that he’s the only one who’ll be able to make you happy.

Cause if it’s not him, then it’s not gonna be anyone.

He’ll make damn sure of that.

Renjun

You weakly follow Renjun, his hand tightly connected to your’s was pushing you forward as the boy energetically rushes over to the iconic Las Vegas chapel, a fake Elvis already standing there to greet you both. You try to halt your movements, steadying your feet on the ground.

“Renjun, wait! I’m really not sure this is the right thing to do.” disappointment appears on Renjun’s face, quickly replaced by frustration. “And why not? We already talked about this! I love you and you love me, then why not get married?”

Pressing your lips together, you try to hold back your feelings, not wanting to lash out at Renjun. “Please, this is really not a good idea.” you beg, hoping to change Renjun’s mind but to your despair, it doesn’t work.

“No, we’re doing this. You said you loved me! Then show me you love me.” Renjun practically trembles with anger as he spits the words out. You’re not capable of fighting back and he takes it as a submission sign from you, beginning to walk back to the chapel and dragging you along.

You feel so helpless but it only gets worse after you leave the chapel, married to Renjun without the presence of any family members or close friends.

Only you and Renjun.

For the rest of your life.

Jeno

Jeno, aka your kidnapper, drops a gift package onto your lap. Taking the package onto your hands, you look at it with surprise. Was today a special occasion?

Giving Jeno an inquiring look, he merely motions you to open the package. It’s actually a bit large, like it contains a book but not quite, as it’s incredibly thin so there’s no way there’s a book inside. Jeno watches you inspect the package with expectant eyes.

“C’mon, open it.” he almost begs you. As you rip out the wrapper, you discover that inside there’s a golden frame. It makes you curious about it, was it a picture?

As you finally rip out the entire wrapper, the content of the beautiful frame makes you stop breathing for a moment. Inside the frame, is a document.

A marriage certificate, to be exact.

Jeno’s body makes the couch dip as he sits close to you, his eyes eagerly attached to your eyes, drinking in your reaction. “Do you like it?” You ignore his words, closing your eyes. What the hell is happening?

His hand comes to hold the frame, his hand covering yours. The warm touch repulses you, but you don’t dare to move away. “It’s a small gift for our one-year anniversary. I hope you like it as much as I do.” Jeno continues talking, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

When you don’t talk, Jeno gently takes off the frame from your hands, moving to kneel in front of you as you open your eyes. You feel so defeated, like the marriage certificate was a prison order. Jeno takes your face into his hands, lovingly gazing at you.

“Now I can officially call you mine, isn’t that perfect?”

Haechan

You avoid looking at Haechan, tears flooding your eyes already. You already know that if you look at him, all of your emotions will break free and you can’t have that. Not now, at least.

Ignoring Haechan through the entire ceremony is hard, the persistent looks he gives you every 5 seconds are difficult to turn a blind eye to, even the priest notices Haechan’s clingy behavior, assuming he’s just in deep love. Which is actually true.

Haechan says yes incredibly fast, practically cutting off the priest even before he manages to finish the question and when it’s your turn, you spit the words in a way that you are sure it shocked the man, but you pay no attention to it.

You’re only here to save your best friend, who was kidnapped by no other than Haechan. All of this - you’re only doing it to save her.

Haechan wastes no time in pulling closer to you, giving you an intense kiss that makes you want to throw up but you contain yourself. The moment you’re outside the church, you immediately stop Haechan on his tracks.

“Let her go now!” Haechan pouts at you, his arms sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Is that really the first thing you’re telling me after we just got married? Not even an i love-”

“Now!” You hysterically cut him off, tears freely streaking down your face. It makes Haechan’s face turn into an almost regretful expression, pulling his hands up. “I’m sorry, I’ll call Jeno to let your friend go, okay? Don’t get upset, baby.”

You almost scoff with irony at his words, but contain yourself, you don’t want to risk Haechan turning back on his word. You merely watch as Haechan fiddles with his phone, speaking with Jeno in a low voice.

After it’s over, he turns back with a small smile. “She’s free to go now.” You sigh in relief, wiping your tears away. She is safe now. You quickly spin around, beginning to walk away yet Haechan is fast in grabbing your arm, pulling you back.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” an incredulous frown on his face. Tightening his hold on your arm, he asserts. “We’re married now. You’re never leaving me again.”

Jaemin

Jaemin keeps a strong grip in your hand, almost too painful but you don’t dare to say a word about it. You’re not gonna say a word to him, or to be more specific, that one magic word.

Trying to ignore the priest is quite easy but to ignore Jaemin’s constant glares and the way he irradiates danger is a different story. You comprehend what he’s trying to tell you.

Don’t make this harder than what it needs to be.

But you want to. There’s no way that you’re leaving the church unmarried, you are aware of that, but you want to annoy Jaemin as much as you can. Let him know that you’re not gonna make his life any easier.

You almost miss it when Jaemin readily declares an overly intense yes to the priest, his hand giving yours a small squeeze but you choose to lower your head, turning your eyes to the ground.

“And now, do you - Y/N L/N - take Jaemin as your husband?” you purse your lips together, ignoring the question and trying to focus on the ground. Jaemin’s hand gives a hard squeeze to your hand and you feel him coming closer to you, his voice awfully close to your ear. “Say yes.” he hisses, frustration seeping through his voice.

Upon your lack of response, he angrily groans. From the side of your eye, you notice Jaemin giving the priest a small nod, to which the priest quickly reacts by completing the ceremony and pronouncing you man and wife. You bring your shocked face to the priest, only to see him accepting a large envelope of money from Jaemin.

You're screwed.

Chenle

Your eyes start burning as you watch your parent’s arriving at the enormous garden that had been arranged to be the venue of your wedding. Taking several deep breaths, you enter the master suite and try to contain yourself.

You had accepted your fate a long time ago, believing that everything Chenle ever did was for your own good and that he is the only one that knows what’s best for you but now, watching your family once again - after months of isolation - is making you doubt your thoughts.

In the spur of the moment, you dash towards the door but just as you grab the handle, it opens from the other side, causing you to bump into Chenle. He quickly grabs your arm to keep you from falling and raises his eyebrows to you.

“In a hurry to get married, are we?” he jokes, his eyes lightening up in amazement as he notices the elaborate dress that adorns your figure alongside with the elegant hairstyle you have on.

“Wow, you look so pretty. Seriously.” he gushes over, his hand picking up yours. His other hand carefully cups the side of your face, considerate of your delicate make-up.

Your mind runs wild with contradictory emotions but you force yourself to be calm and serene. You’d hate to upset Chenle, especially now that he was starting to trust.

His hand tilts your chin up and your eyes meet. Yours full of contained sadness while his are overflowing with burning love. He gives you a cheeky smile.

“I can’t wait for you to be officially mine.”

Jisung

You try to stay still from your spot on the couch. It feels too intimidating to be the only one sitting while the other boys are all standing, making them look both taller and quite scary, to be honest.

“... and Jisung loves you so much, then why not? Give me a good reason for you to refuse his proposal.” Jaemin intensely utters, his eyes staring at you. You open your lips to say something but Renjun is fast to interrupt you. “See!? You don’t even have a logical reason to turn down Jisung. You two would be such a great couple, really.”

Besides him, Chenle nods his head at his friend’s words. “Yeah, and being married would be great for Jisung. It would make him so happy.” he declares, before lowering his voice like he was about to share a secret. “He’s been so heartbroken ever since you have said no. He was so excited to propose and all and now you broke his heart. He’s been crying ever since.”

Your heart clenches at his words, you never meant to hurt Jisung like that. You love him too, but you thought that you’re both too young to get married. You bite your lip, how were you going to get out of this problem?

“Guys, I really didn’t mean to hurt Jisung but I don't think I can do this.” you blurt out, glancing at the boys, hoping they’d understand your side of the story. Upon hearing your words, Jaemin crosses his arms over his chest as Haechan lets out an irked scoff.

“You’re such a coward, you’re literally letting Jisung down!” Renjun hisses at you and it really shocks you how raw his words were. Your eyes start watering as your shoulders slump forward in defeat. Maybe you are a coward. Numbness hits you and the words simply flow out of your mouth, without even thinking.

The boys share a victorious look between them at you finally giving in and agreeing to marry their friend.

Wasn’t so hard, afterall.

TAGS:

@mwitsmejk

#@yankpop #yandere nct #yandere nct dream #nct yandere #yandere kpop #yandere mark #yandere haechan #yandere jisung #yandere renjun #yandere chenle #yandere jaemin #yandere jeno #yandere nct scenario #yandere nct reaction

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deadvilesworld · 10 months

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I just started getting into the godfather and can’t help but feel disappointed in the lack of Sonny Corleone fan fiction. IM GETTING SCRAPS HERE. Young James Caan ( RIP ) played Sonny so well and for being one the most iconic and famous films of all time, I’m sad not see as much godfather ( Sonny ) fanfics. Thank you for attending my TED talk.

#the godfather #marlon brando #james caan #sonny corleone #michael corleone #fredo corleone #connie corleone #don corleone #vito corleone #Sonny corleone x reader #disappointed #i'm sad

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steveharrington · 16 days

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as the strangers chapter one predictably flops i am thinking deeply about the plague in horror currently of remaking/rebooting franchises but straying so far from the spirit of the original that they honestly should have just been their own dam movie!!!

they sat down to make the strangers chapter one and said “we want to make a horror movie about two travellers finding a hostile close knit small town that will kill passers through…. let’s use the title about home invasion” and then the people who made the godawful netflix texas chainsaw massacre 2019 reboot said “we want to make a horror movie about gentrification and the trauma of school shootings…. let’s use the title about a family of backroad cannibals!!” like WHAT??? even scream 5 and 6 are so distinctly lacking the meta commentary and fun of the originals to the point that the only aspects that identify them as scream movies are the ghostface mask and the “legacy characters” (eye roll at that title) who they unceremoniously kill off in ooc ways. like my god. make your OWN THING ‼️

i know the answer is money and that studios know something attached to a familiar title will do better than an entirely new movie but oh my god it’s just like painful. if you are going to remake a classic, at least keep it in the spirit of the original. texas chainsaw massacre 2003 at least understood that and committed to the grime, the discomfort, the feeling that you aren’t supposed to be watching this. it’s not a perfect movie but it was clearly made with respects to the original.

and how are we ever going to have new iconic horror titles if no one wants to make anything new?? jordan peele is doing all the heavy lifting in giving us inventive entirely NEW works that aren’t just ripping off a title elsewhere. and yet i feel like when it comes to popularity, i see an equal amount of praise for mike flanagan, who i truly blame this entire phenomena on (idc if that’s unfair) because he just bounces from classic horror novel to classic horror novel making his own “spin” on them that absolutely robs the original stories of their intent and meaning. like oh my god. leave haunting of hill house alone. leave tcm alone. leave scream alone. i hate you

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uglygirlstatus · 9 months

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Curious to see how you’d rank every Riverdale musical episode

this ask has been in my inbox for months because I could not make up my mind whatsoever and had to rewatch all musical eps 2x each to decide.

Splitting rankings into categories for my own sake: Songs (ranked on both quality and integration), Plot (entertainment value of the storyline points featured), and Iconry (ratio of special/memorable/iconic lines and scenes)

#6. American Psycho

Songs ⭐️⭐️

Plot ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Iconry ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I remember somehow being underwhelmed when I first watched this because I had really hyped myself up after reading the episode description. But now in a post-50sdale world, I realize how lucky we were with this one. We got SlaughterCon, Cheryl and Kevin hexing Toni and Fangs, Betty being gay, Kevin not warning Betty in advance that he added a bit to his musical number where Doctor Curdle Jr dresses as TBK and then getting visibly annoyed with her when she interrupts it fearing for his life, Betty finally killing TBK and he’s literally just wrapped in duct tape and garbage bags, AS WELL AS Archie’s Labour Union all in one episode. However, since this IS a ranking of musical episodes, I’m afraid I can’t let the incredible plot compensate too much for the lack of strong musical bangers.

Stand out lines:

“It’s your dad’s knife. I bought it on eSlay.”

“Betty Cooper, are you hot for agent Drake?”

“You’re one of us. An American Psycho.”

Not a line but shoutout to Lili Reinhart’s boobs in You Are What You Wear.

#5. Carrie

Songs ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Plot ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Iconry ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Cheryls heavily autotuned explosion into “THATS NOT MY NAAAAAAAME” will forever tickle me. And her finale drenching herself in blood and coming to her mother with the candelabra to threaten burning down their mansion for a second time is one of the top ten Cheryl Blossom moments for all time. Everything about the presence of Alice Cooper also kills me like she is IN this high school musical. Madchen I could listen to pitch correction software fighting for its life against your dulcet tones forever. I read in a Twitter thread by the duo who produces all the Riverdale music that Madchen had literally never sung in her entire life prior to this episode. And they still gave her a solo. Amazing. The plot doesn’t carry as much weight for me in this one but the I love the integration of the music, and it also gave us the first ever Beronica duet and Fifi appearance. Oh and rip Midge!

Stand Out Lines:

“I will not succumb to thespian terrorism!”

“I’m not the same girl who burned down Thornhill.” “Sure you are!”

“Nightmare child, what do you want from me?!”

#4. Next to Normal

Songs ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Plot ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Iconry ⭐️⭐️

This one has real emotional impact okay. It was genuinely moving. I love when the musical episodes tackle a huge range of plot lines and still try to apply the niche musical choice of the season to each of them. We have Cooper grieving & family choreography and spite-Jabitha and Cheryl attacking her mother with song & holy water and Varchie being useless and Britta becoming Cheryl’s little child servant/protege. Reggie is there too. Also all of the music hits for real. It’s a shame that “I Am The One” and “I’m Alive” had so much cut in the ep because the spectres of Polly and Charles are killing it on the harmonies in the full versions. I could listen to Lili Reinhart sing all day long. Above all though I think my favourite part is the uncanny photoshop of Alice and Betty and Polly in front of the Next to Normal Broadway poster.

Stand Out Lines:

“YOU’VE GOT SOME NERVE JUGHEAD, AND I’M JUST ALL NERVES!”

“I’m gonna eat in the garage.”

“You remind me of Hiram Lodge.” “I don’t know who that is. But please, have a Swelligrino for the road.”

#3. Heathers

Songs ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Plot ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Iconry ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Guys It’s so crazy that Midge literally died in the middle of our musical last year. Anyway time for Heathers! Something fun about this episode is that I first watched it before I was fully Riverdalepilled and was still foolishly rolling my eyes at the show while I watched with my mom and sister. I was like “guys Heathers is actually a great musical, it’s going to be hard for me to see what Riverdale does to it”. We began watching and very soon my mom and sister were commenting on the music. It quickly dawned on me that they were complaining about the aspects of the show that were more or less unchanged from the original musical. And I had a great epiphany moment where I realized 1) Heathers is sort of bad 2) if I loved Heathers the musical in earnest then why should I not love Riverdale? Heathers was actually PERFECTLY CRAFTED to be performed by the Riverdale cast. Anyway. This episode had a lot going for it. Lodge divorce arc straight into Veronica partying. Kevin’s sudden perm. Toni’s threesome fake out. Our favourite Chad Michael Murray Rhythmic cult clapping. And of course KJ Apa doing this

Stand Out Lines

“Did you have a lobotomy for breakfast?”

“Here I invented red. I AM red. *snaps*”

“Evelyn called a closed rehearsal for select members in the Gargoyle Chamber.”

#2. Archie the Musical

Songs ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Plot ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Iconry ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This one had EVERYTHINGGGGGGGG. Fun with the meta narrative and original songs mixed with covers taken from various obscure and specific sources and by far some of the most fun choreography and sets of all musical episodes since they were able to be so free with it. Seeing Gay Kevin back in his natural habitat of directing the school musical was so heartwarming. Jughead and Reggie quitting immediately. Archie going left. And Archie going right. Bisexually. Julian demolishing Archie vocally every chance he gets. And knowing it. Also every single facial expression and mannerism that Julian has in this episode is god tier. Actually kj apa too. Actually also Lili and Camilla. SANDWICH? The loudest in-song sound effects we’ve ever experienced. Archie the happiest he’s ever been in his life on the back of Toni’s bike. BERONICA - PRIMAL AND INTENSE! My review is barely coherent because this one does fill me with silly giddy joy. Plot loses a star because how the hell are we expected to care about Gay Kevin’s divorcing parents. I know “ohh suffering isn’t a competition ohhh” Ethel just watched her parents get murdered by a milkman and no one sang for her.

Stand Out Lines:

“I don’t wanna be a drip, but it’s super distracting when my understudy is singing literally at the same time as me!”

“You completely captured the longing of being in a queer, interracial relationship in the 1950s.”

“Maybe there are other more emotionally complex mountains to climb.”

“The new Archie, Julian, he’s even better than the real Archie!”

#1. Hedwig and the Angry Inch

Songs ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Plot ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Iconry ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

On a 9 hour flight to Europe in the Summer I had all the Riverdale musical eps downloaded to rewatch and then noticed that among the plane’s complimentary movie selections was the original movie of Hedwig and the Angry Inch, which was pure kismet. I decided to watch the movie for the first time prior to rewatching the Riverdale ep and I was blown away. Knowing the context of all the songs and musical they chose to include in the episode made everything so much more insane. The song about feeling like a stranger in your body after surgical malpractice being used for the Bughead conflict over Juggie prioritizing mysteries over finishing high school and Varchie conflict over Archie not telling Veronica about her dad’s epic fail at the gym. 20? something year old gay Kevin proclaiming WE ARE GENERATION Z before jumping into Random Number Generation. The BIZARRELY spliced version of the best ever rendition of Origin of Love all for BARCHIE FODDER?!? Actually all the rest of the songs were perfectly fitting no notes. Anyway hallway full of students in Hedwig drag one of the top Riverdale shots ever though I forever mourn KJ Apa’s absence. At least he got to kiss a man in this one. The plane hit turbulence while I watching the Midnight Radio scene but I was so happy witnessing it in that moment that I thought to myself “it would be ok if I died right now”.

Stand Out Lines:

“Writing a book report? Now I know how Sisyphus must have felt.”

“It celebrates identities, genders, expressions of all kinds.”

“[scoffs] How queer-phobic of you.”

“There’s a problem that comes once you get caught up on your homework. Your mind wanders and evil creeps back in.”

I was convinced Archie the Musical would come out on top for me due to the obscene level of euphoria I felt upon first experiencing it but after intensive review I do have to say Hedwig wins. Ultimately I miss the original timeline that much and I am all for the events that eventually tear apart everyone’s relationships and most of all it gave us Origin of Love full version Riverdale cast edition. But know that it is so so so so so close between the two. And honestly really all 6 are close in my heart as this exercise reminded me just how much the musical episodes are to watch and rewatch.

#idk why I treated this like a life or death question #riverdale #t #ask #riverdale musical ranking #long post

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bodyhorrorbeatdown · 9 months

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Body Horror Beatdown, Match 17, Round 1

Vote for your favorite:

Propaganda under the cut.

Mad God:

A journey beyond your wildest nightmares.

"Mad God is THEE body horror movie in my mind. Stop motion animation and heavily stylized live action combine to create a disgusting fetid mass of living things that fester in cruelty and industrial squalor. Everywhere you look something is alive and wet and moving in ways it shouldn't. It's a deeply disturbing film that wormed its way into my heart with its beautifully fucked up visuals and lack of consideration for mass appeal."

The Thing:

Man is the warmest place to hide.

jesus christ i have so much propaganda for this. it's my (the poll runner's) favorite in the bracket btw <3

"IT'S AMONG US, BUT WITH COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF GORE DONE THROUGH PRACTICAL EFFECTS. WHAT MORE COULD YOU WANT?"

"ROB BOTTIN’S EFFECTS ARE THE BEST IN ANY FILM I HAVE EVER SEEN, AND I WATCH A LOT OF HORROR FILMS WITH A LOT OF EFX AND I GOTTA SAY HE DID A FANTASTIC JOB (HE WAS 22 YEARS OLD AT THE TIME OF DOING THE PRACTICAL FX FOR THIS FILM) Also it has Kurt Russell in it what more could you want"

"It's the best most special thing with all the fancy abilities"

"Awesome practical effects that still hold up, wet and slimey beasts, Kurt Russell looking hot"

"THE body horror movie. Ever wanted to see KY jelly and chewed up bubblegum used to create the most horrifying, gooey, and bulbuous mass of a creature you've ever seen? I SURE DO!!! It's such a practical effects monster especially with the big puppet-thing at the end that took almost fifty people to operate, AND the sound design with all the crackling and popping... ough. Just the first transformation scene with the kennel-thing is enough sicken someone. It's so good."

"all sequence of the thing is entirely practical effects, the blood and the gore, the tentacles and different versions of the thing. the practical effects were actually shot after the rest of the movie had wrapped up because making the effects took so long. they actually had an amputee in the scene where a characters arms were ripped off by the chest mouth in the defibrillator scene. Honestly John Carpenters magnum opus that was hounded by critics when it came out, but rightfully ADORED by horror fans in the present day for its amazing practical effects and awesome plot. bold and daring move to hide a lot of the characters eyes in many scenes, eyes are window to the soul and the thing doesn't want people knowing."

"I mean, this movie is an icon of body horror. Miss alien ate and the practical effects still terrify me on repeat viewings."

#bodyhorrorbeatdown #body horror beatdown #gore #body horror #round 1 #polls #mad god #mad god 2022 #the thing #the thing 1982 #phil tippett #john carpenter

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homeskarunners · 1 year

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A History of My Favorite McDonald’s Mascot, Mac Tonight

so. this is something i feel very strongly about.

this is mac tonight.

a lot of people know him as moon man.

i do not like this.

moon man, while originally being a nickname he was called in commercials, is now the name of his “fanmade” racist alter ego popularized by the alt right. i shouldn’t have to explain why this is a problem.

thankfully, this character has died down in popularity recently, so i’m taking it upon myself to rip off that ugly mask and tell you all a little about the most creative, smooth, and personally iconic mcdonald’s mascot out of all of them, Mac Tonight.

origins

in 1959, Bobby Darin released his cover of the song “Mack the Knife”. decades later, in the early 80s, some marketing guy trying to come up with an ad campaign for mcdonald’s thought “hey this song about a killer would be perfect parody material for a fast food company!”, and thus, the mcdonald’s parody was born.

Mac Tonight also drew inspiration from Max Headroom, the character. not the broadcast hijacking that used his face.

usage

in the mid 80s, the commercials started rolling in for McDonald’s brand new 24 hour policy. and they were a hit. for good reason! i am a massive fan of Mac Tonight, if it wasn’t clear, and i adore every one of these.

i would link one, but the feature doesn’t seem to be working for me at the moment…

the commercials were jazzy, smooth, maybe repetitive, but they were fun. Mac Tonight got so popular they made several statues and singing animatronics to place in restaurants across the globe.

eventually, Bobby Darin’s son found out, and sued McDonalds for using his fathers song uncredited and without permission. this was, temporarily, the end of Mac Tonight in advertising. however, in the late 90s, he began being used again in various non-musical commercials.

downfall

unfortunately, this is where moon man comes in. he is Mac Tonight’s white supremacist rapping internet persona that 4chan probably made.

i earnestly, for the life of me, cannot imagine why they would want to ruin such a beloved mascot.

he was so widespread McDonald’s tore down several Mac Tonight physical incarnations in restaurants everywhere.

Mac Tonight’s latest usage was in a Singaporean ad in 2007, a singing CGI rendition, that is still lovely despite the lack of Mack the Knife parody.

Defunctland made a wonderful video on the history of this icon.

i am thrilled to inform you all on this mascot i adore, and i hope more people love him as time goes on. down with the moon man.

#essay.txt #mac tonight #mcdonald’s #fast food mascots

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pastanest · 1 year

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A/N: shamelessly inspired by the legend that is Amanda Bynes cinematic masterpiece which, if you have not seen it, is too iconic for words and also @januaryembrs imagine Making Of A Man, so please read that one bc it is INCREDIBLE and is on my Jon Snow fic recs list for VERY good reason!!

warning: light reference to SA (reader does what we all wish we could’ve done tho fr and doesnt actually get SA’d, it’s just implied what could’ve happened)

Jon Snow x she/her!reader

part two can be found here

She’s The Man - Part One

The feeling caused by being effectively held in place by the shoulders of the men on either side of you is a discomfort that only a woman could truly understand, and that irony is not lost on you. It is a relief to know that none of the men around you can see through the shaggy short hair and into your mind, to hear such exposing thoughts. They cannot feel the way the cold air nips at the newly exposed skin at the back of your neck, having never had such little hair to shield yourself from the cold in all your life. They cannot see the way you pick at the nails that you were quick to rip off unevenly, out of fear of neat fingernails alluding to your femininity and ruining your rushed disguise before you have even arrived. It is a wonder they do not notice the way that your body jolts with every bump in the road below, far more than any of theirs do. Perhaps they think of you as a weak boy, which, while you will still be perceived as an easy target, is nothing compared to the terrifying reality of if they knew who - and what - you really are.

Thankfully, the journey between your home and the wall is not as long as it would be for others, the Northern blood in your veins a constant reminder of where you had come from, even if you would never be able to return there. However, the lack of time to mentally prepare yourself for the sight of such a place is something you are not grateful for. The wall towers higher than any structure that you have ever seen, part of you laboring under the misapprehension that it may even touch the darkening sky. If you are lucky enough to stand up there, you wonder if you will be able to touch the clouds, or the rays of the setting sun.

The men that surround you say nothing as the gates to Castle Black open, welcoming you all to the home that you have chosen, but suspect many have not. Beyond the gate stands an enclosed realm that is more occupied by men than any you have seen, and that is truly saying something. Clutching the string of your bow at your front and checking its limbs at your back are still intact, you take a deep breath and rise from the cart with the rest of the men, having to jump to the ground rather than simply step down as they do.

“We’ve got a little one on our hands now, boys!”

A large man in an even larger black fur cloak and a particularly smug look on his aged face, sneers at you from a few feet away, bringing laughs from several other men.

Wide eyes darting around your surroundings, you begin to consider that this may have been the worst mistake of your life thus far, until a familiar face appears in your line of sight.

Him having not yet seen you, you allow yourself the innocent and undisturbed joy of watching him laugh with a small group of men that you do not recognise, feeling age old butterflies awaken from their slumber and burst to life within you at the sight of the smile you never thought you would be so lucky to see again, before a heavier-set man taps his shoulder and gestures to you.

Jon Snow’s eyes meet yours from across the courtyard, and his smile falters, heart skipping a beat in his chest. He swears by the old Gods and the new that, for just a moment, he sees you standing there, with shorter hair and baggier clothes that don’t fit the memory of you that he holds so dearly, but the face the same, older than when he last saw it, but just as beautiful as he always remembered thinking you were, and seemingly, are. With a shake of his head, his mind clears, and he realizes that of course, it cannot be you, though he could also swear your twin brother had never looked so similar to you before.

Jon chuckles in disbelief as he approaches you and pulls you into a loose hug. While still recovering from seeing him after all this time - and here, of all places - you do not miss the opportunity to breathe in his familiar scent, feeling an odd sense of home as your face heats up. Pulling away from each other just enough to hold shoulders, Jon’s grin is unwavering.

“It is always a joy to see you, Darius, but, Seven Hells, what have you done to end up here?!”

Being referred to by your brother’s name is jarring, but you try your best to refrain from revealing that with the expression on your face. Unsurprisingly, being in the presence of Jon Snow makes it impossible for you to show anything but a smile.

“As it is to see you, Jon, and I will tell you later, I expect today is going to be-”

The same smug, older man that had made the comment at the expense of your stature earlier, interrupts you. “Oh, what a surprise, the mouse is friends with the bastard!”

Instinctively, a frown overtakes your face, one that Jon mistakenly recognises to belong to you and not your brother. Eyes not leaving Jon’s, you ask a silent question, and he shakes his head very slightly as you move to stand beside him. Apparently, this man is not one for you to snap at for referring to Jon as a bastard. Had Jon not shaken his head, you can’t begin to entertain the choice of profanities that you would have sent across the courtyard.

“Well, as is tradition with new friends of the bastard, show us what earns you a place at his side, little one!” The older man taunts, earning further laughs from the men that choose to follow him, against Jon. Naturally, you make a mental note of whose faces to avoid.

A rusty sword is thrown at your feet, hitting the ground with a clang that makes your bones shudder. For a moment, all you can do is stare at it, until Jon clears his throat, glancing between you and the sword in confusion. Flustered, you bend down to pick it up, hoping you do so in a convincingly “manly” way, but regardless of that, the way in which you demonstrate having clearly never held a sword in your life immediately sends you plummeting in the social ranks.

“Gods, what a sorry state this one is!” The comment comes from one of the men that arrived with you, seemingly making an effort to join the wrong crowd, and that is the first of many final straws on the back of the amount of humiliation you can take in a day.

In no more than seven seconds, you drop the sword, march over to the pot of crooked, poorly made arrows that slump lamely against a wall, remove your bow from your back, grab an arrow, aim and fire, knocking the man’s hat clean from his head and pinning it to the wooden pillar behind him.

Silence falls upon the courtyard, but the grin on Jon Snow’s face in your peripheral vision tells you that you are far from having done something wrong.

Kicking the pot of arrows over, you sigh, before turning back to the older man that had taunted you, daring to make a stand and earn an enemy on your first day.

“Perhaps if you catered to different weapon talents, instead of rusty swords and arrows that a handless man could make better, your army wouldn't be in such a sorry state.” With that, you take a dramatic bow, earning applause from Jon and his friends, who are quick to surround you and congratulate you on your fantastic show as they usher you into the common room of Castle Black.

Seating you at a table and clambering onto the seats around you, the men begin bombarding you with questions and compliments.

“The look on Ser Alliser’s face, I’ve never known anything like it! You’ve made more of a first impression than Jon!” A long haired, stubbly faced and slim man, who hurriedly introduces himself as Ed, gushes from your left.

The heavier set man sitting opposite Ed, who is quick to tell you that his name is Sam, nods along with him. “To join us is to make enemies, but I dare say you would have been able to do that all on your own! And I mean that in a good sense.”

Jon chuckles from his place sitting opposite you. “Alright, lads, don't blow too much smoke up his arse.”

You beam at them. “No, no, please continue, this is doing wonders for my wall-bound ego!”

The band of new friends that you have made laugh at your response, until the quieter one sitting to the right of you, who Ed introduces as Pyp, speaks up. “Usually, we’d strongly advise against making a scene like that, but by already being friends with Jon, Ser Alliser would’ve hated you no matter what you did.”

You raise an eyebrow at this. “Why does Ser Alliser hate you?”

Jon meets your gaze and shrugs. “He has since I arrived, I’m not entirely sure why. Perhaps it’s my status versus his, or the fact I’m not as hopeless with a sword as he expected me to be.”

You sigh. “As useless as I am, you mean.”

Jon chuckles. “Your skill with a sword doesn't matter when you can wield a bow like that. When did your sister teach you?”

A warm smile blooms between your cheeks, having never expected Jon to remember the bow as your preferred weapon choice. “A few years ago, when I realized I wasn't getting any taller, or stronger.”

Jon smiles back at you, but doesn't laugh, not wanting to humor a joke about your stature like Ser Alliser did. “(Y/N) taught you well, how is she?”

And despite the circumstances, you find yourself grinning at him. “She is well, thank you for asking. She is the reason I’m here, actually.”

Ed interjects in the conversation that both you and Jon had forgotten was not just between the two of you, to enquire about how exactly the two of you know each other.

It is no fanciful story - no matter how much the smiles on yours and Jon’s faces as you tell it may suggest otherwise - but a case of continued happenstance, in that Jon and his brother Robb often accompanied their father when he took short trips to other houses, and that on one of those trips, the boys bumped into you and your brother. Quite literally, you ran straight into Jon and fell backwards, landing on the muddy ground, smaller bow in one hand and an arrow in the other. The tattered nature of the dress that you wore told Jon that you were not highborn, but regardless, he was mortified to have knocked over a girl and hurried to bend down to help you to your feet. As soon as you were stood, you spun on your heel to aim and shoot an arrow, narrowly missing your brother’s shoe as he ran past you. From that moment on, the Stark boys begged their father to take them to play pretend battles with you and your brother, which went on for many years of your childhood, until Lady Catelynn forbade it, because it was not an activity for the heir to Winterfell, and because it made Jon Snow far too happy. As such, it has been years since Jon has seen either of you, enough time for your brother to have curiously grown to become more like you than Jon had ever anticipated he would. Never in his life had Jon seen a man he found to be so…pretty.

Sam gasps. “By the Gods, Jon, you never mentioned you had a girl!”

And Jon Snow’s face flushes deep crimson, horrified eyes looking to you for your reaction. “She was not my girl!”

His reaction makes you laugh, because oh yes, yes you were, he just didn’t know it. Hoping to convince him to carry on this topic of conversation, you try to respond in a way that a man would expect another man to. “Oh, please, speak freely, my sister is not here to witness such confessions, and it is not like I will be able to tell her!”

Ed nudges Jon. “Precisely! You clearly had a fondness for her, confess your sins to the sworn abstinent!”

All of you share a laugh at that, and Jon sighs. “Aye, I did have a fondness for her, it’s true.” He looks at you, trying not to notice the way your eyes glaze over at his revelation. “You said that (Y/N) was your reason for being here, how?”

Rolling your eyes, you take a deep breath. “Some pompous prick with lands and a title tried to take her virtue.”

Sudden storm clouds rage behind Jon Snow’s frowning eyes, blood boiling in his veins, and fists clenching on top of the table. “If I ever find the filth that tried such a thing, you have my word, I’ll kill him.” He seethes, unable to merely comprehend the idea of someone trying to harm you.

His protective outburst is enough to make your heart flutter, but you hide it behind a small smile and a nod. “Thank you. She did get her own back, though.” Jon nods, encouraging you to continue, and you can't help the smug grin that plasters itself on your face. “She stabbed him in the cock the moment he got it out.”

Silence falls again, all three men’s jaws dropping and almost smacking against the table.

“A common girl stabbing a Lord in the cock is enough for a death sentence, so I said I did it, and earnt myself a life sentence on watch, instead.”

Sam speaks up first, wanting clarity on a detail of your story. “And the Lord, he allowed that?”

You shrug, sitting back. “A Lord would rather tell everyone a psychotic boy was sent to the wall for simply stabbing him than admit a common girl was killed for stabbing him in the cock when he tried to have his way with her.”

It takes the men a second to process your ‘crime’ and its sentence, before they erupt in cheers of victory in your name, save for Jon, whose gaze is fixed on the table, storm clouds not yet cleared.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur that you had not at all anticipated for your first day. Ed, Pyp and Sam go out of their way to make you feel welcome, asking you all kinds of questions about where you came from, your favorite things to do, discussing what you all miss the most about home; it was time spent getting acquainted with your new friends, all the while your favorite memory of home sat opposite you. At most, he would smile at the things you said, but his eyes stayed fixed on the window for the majority of the evening, miles away with thoughts that you so desperately wished you could read.

As you finish your meals, you look around at your new friends. “What is the plan for tonight then, lads?”

Pyp gestures to himself and Ed. “We’re on watch.”

Sam sighs blissfully. “I will be sleeping soundly for as long as humanly possible.”

Chuckling, you look to your oldest friend. “Jon?”

Only at you calling his name does he return to himself and meet your gaze. “I’m not on watch either, and nor are you, none of the new men will be. Ser Alliser placed me in a particularly cold room, purposely, but there is a spare bed if you would like it.”

Nodding, you rise from the table and stretch out your limbs. “Off to bed it is, then. Lead the way, Lord Jon!”

That nickname catches him off guard, recognising it as something that only you used to call him, and smiling fondly, rather than reading into the fact that it was said by your brother.

Upon reaching your new accommodation, Jon opens the door and gestures for you to head in first, though he does not know exactly why, you are both men, after all; chivalrous gestures are not commonplace. Walking around you, Jon is quick to light the single candle in the room, its flame barely impacting the darkness that fills the rest of the room.

When your footsteps stop in the middle of the room, you are certain you can hear the soft tiptap of claws against the stone floor, and then something is sniffing at your crotch. Gasping in surprise, Jon chuckles from behind you.

“Sorry, I should have mentioned-”

You interject. “You have a puppy!”

Ghost, sensing Jon’s positive feelings towards you and logically concluding you are a friend, nuzzles at your hand in the dark. Jon is shocked to hear no fear in your voice at all when confronted by a large beast in the dark. Simply put, you are experiencing pure glee.

Still, he frowns. “A direwolf.” He corrects you, but you are already crouching on the floor and feeling for Ghost’s ears to give the much needed scratches that you have discovered your new purpose in delivering for the rest of your life.

“Doesn’t matter how big, a puppy is still a puppy. And I love this puppy, and he loves me, don't you? Oh yes, yes you do, aren’t you the softest and loveliest boy in the whole world, hmm?”

Apparently, Jon has completely lost you to his direwolf, who is lapping up the affection and the baby voice with which you are addressing him. He sighs in defeat.

“His name is Ghost.”

You gasp dramatically at this, scratching under the very large puppy’s chin. “Oh, Ghost, what a wonderful name! Such a strong and scary boy, aren’t you? Oh, I bet you are! The scariest brother on the wall from what I’ve heard!”

Jon cannot believe he is admitting this even inside his own head, but there is a small amount of jealousy swirling in his stomach, hearing the praise you are showering his direwolf in.

“You weren’t exaggerating about how cold it is in here, Gods!” You laugh airly, rubbing your arms through your brother’s clothes and standing back up, continuing to rub Ghost’s head as he nudges your palm.

Jon sighs guiltily, it being too dark for you to see the expression on his face. “Sorry, I should have sent you to a warmer room than this.”

You shake your head frantically. “No, no, please, I’m grateful! I know you better than anybody else here, I will feel much safer sharing with you. And Ghost.”

Reaching you in two quick strides, Jon gingerly reaches for your shoulder through the darkness with one large hand. “I won’t let them harm you. Neither will Ghost.”

Nodding, you look up at him, wishing you could see into his eyes, this close. “Thank you, Jon.”

Dropping your shoulder, Jon makes his way over to his bed and begins to strip to his underclothes.

Of course, you are temporarily blind in the one moment you have never been more desperate to witness a certain view.

Each of your steps in the general direction of your bed is slow and careful, guided mostly by Ghost who is still pressed against your side, until your boot hits a wooden leg of the bed, and you feel for the mattress, sitting down on it and breathing a sigh of relief. Knowing Jon cannot see you, you strip free of your oversized clothes, to your own underclothes beneath, feeling oddly intimate in a strange sort of way.

Once safely nestled under the furs and blankets of your bed, your body begins to regain its natural warmth. Ghost drops his head against your bed, sniffing against the furs dramatically.

Rolling your eyes, you shuffle until your back is pressed against the wall and pat the newly empty space beside you. “Come on then, Ghosty, up you get.”

With no further instruction needed, Ghost leaps onto the bed and begins to turn in circles, padding the space of the bed that he intends to occupy.

From the other side of the room, Jon laughs. “You are already spoiling that wolf far too much!”

“Nonsense!” You huff playfully, absentmindedly brushing through Ghost’s fur with your fingers while he settles himself beside you. Despite the fact you have not yet seen what this wolf looks like, you are all too aware of the fact that you would already give your life for him.

In the privacy of this room, shared by just the two of you, and in a space where neither of you can see the other, you decide to address what has been weighing on your mind.

“Jon?” You call out quietly, and he hums in response. “You were awfully quiet at dinner…I just wanted to ask if you were alright? I did not want to make a spectacle of your feelings in front of your friends, so thought it best not to ask until now. If you do not wish to tell me, then I understand, I just wanted you to know you can tell me, if you would like to.” Your words float in the space between your heads, from your heart to his, and he feels the weight of them.

“Thank you, that’s very kind. In truth, I was worrying after (Y/N), what had happened to her. Is she alright?” He asks, the thought of you being afraid making him physically nauseous, because he can't be there.

“It was not easy, but she has recovered as well as she can. She has more of a nervousness towards men that she does not know, naturally, but aside from that, she is much the same. I’m sure that your concern for her would bring a smile to her.” Talking about yourself in the third person is not an easy feat, but you are getting the hang of it, slowly.

After a moment’s silence, Jon speaks up. “I wish I had been there.”

You raise an eyebrow. “When?”

Jon wipes his face with his hands. “Before, during, and after. I wish I’d seen more of you both, I wish I’d been there to help protect her from that, and help her feel safe again afterwards.”

Tears start to sting your eyes at his heartfelt confession and care for you. “As do I.”

To Jon, your response alludes to your brother wishing he had been there to rescue you, but to you, you are sharing Jon’s wish, that he had been there.

“I’m sorry, it must be more difficult for you, as her brother.” Jon apologizes.

“It is, but there is no more that I can do, especially now that I’m here. Even if I wasn’t, you would make more of a difference than I ever could.” You say, speaking words that you never thought you would have the chance to tell him to his face.

“How so?” Jon questions.

“She thinks of you often, she told me so. When it happened, she thought about how angry you would be, and that helped give her the strength to fight for herself. Nothing I did could compare to the mere thought of what Jon Snow would have done if he’d been there. That’s not to say you would have necessarily done more than I, but that it would mean more to her if that action came from you.” The confession is an honest one, feeling less daunting when viewed as someone else’s.

Almost a minute of silence passes, and your mind spirals. Was that too much? Has he somehow pieced together that those words were yours, not your brother’s? Have you already ruined your new life?

And then, you hear laughter. So quiet at first, but quickly blossoming into a hearty, full laugh.

“What?!” You are confused, but already chuckling with him.

“Well, had I known that, perhaps I would have reconsidered my joining the Night’s Watch!”

Now, you’re laughing too, the ridiculousness of it all exacerbated by the additional layer of diabolical coincidence that has led you here, to this bed, in a room with the man your heart has always yearned for, that you were so sure you would never see again.

“She will be just as disappointed, I can assure you!”

Jon sighs, heart swelling and dropping simultaneously at the hope and soul crushing reality of it being completely unrealistic all at once, wanting to shift the topic of conversation.

“What of you, did you leave a maiden behind?”

An easy enough question, you think to yourself, but immediately begin to consider how to make the answer less dull and finite. “There was someone that I had my heart set on, and now I think I’ll dream of them, if nothing else.”

Jon hums thoughtfully. “That’s quite romantic, perhaps I’ll do the same.” Realizing what he has said, he scrambles for a recovery statement. “My apologies, I did not intend to tell you I’d be…”

You muffle your giggle into your pillow before answering him. “Dreaming of my sister? You pervert!”

And then you’re laughing again, like the old friends that you are. If Jon only knew who you really were, this effortless flow of conversation and complete lack of awkwardness could be understood as chemistry.

“I suppose we’d best go to sleep. Thank you for making my first evening far better than I’d imagined it would be. Though I doubt my presence is any consolation to the truth of not being able to marry my sister by being here, I am glad that you are here.” There’s a playful, teasing tone to your voice and the chuckle Jon gives you is proof enough that he did not miss it.

“Thank you, I am glad that you are here, too. Goodnight.”

Smiling to yourself, your eyes flutter closed. “Goodnight, Jon.”

The next morning, you awake to a large hand shaking your shoulder through the blankets that cover you, and your eyes snap open, an alarmed expression on your face that makes Jon smile guiltily as he retracts his hand.

“We’re expected at training, but I thought I’d let you get as much sleep as possible on your first night. I’ll see you out there.”

With a nod, Jon takes his leave, and you release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. If you had not had the blankets firmly tucked beneath your chin, if your chest had been visible in the gap of your underclothes…your blood runs cold. For future reference, there is absolutely no way that you can sleep without more clothes on.

Rushing to get ready into the black clothes that Jon very kindly placed at the foot of your bed, without telling you, you flatten your disheveled hair as best as you can and make your way towards the door, only then acknowledging the large white direwolf that has been waiting there patiently for you.

Smiling at him, you scratch behind his ears. “Good morning, Ghosty. Now, you must swear to me that you won’t go telling Jon about what you may or may not have seen when I was getting dressed, alright?”

Ghost tilts his head to the side as he looks up at you.

With that, you nod at him. “Thank you, I take your word as an oath of sworn secrecy.”

The moment the Northern air hits you, your eyes are searching the courtyard for Jon, and you find him, his gaze seemingly focussed on the door he knew you would exit from, waiting for you amongst his friends. He waves you over with a kind smile that sends butterflies spiraling in your stomach again as you jog over to meet him, Ghost plodding along beside you.

Save for the odd sarcastic comment from Ser Alliser, the majority of the day is spent in good spirits with your newfound comrades. Sam clarifies that the older man patrolling the courtyard and checking the ability of the new men is Lord Commander Mormont, and he is seemingly a much nicer man, which keeps Ser Alliser reigned in. He trusts that Jon will train you effectively, so does not request you join a different group for training exercises, much to your relief. Unfortunately, training with Jon Snow does come with a price. Namely, the fact that you cannot focus on anything he says when he is demonstrating a particular offensive or defensive motion with a sword because you are far too distracted by how unbelievably handsome he looks, the way his dark curls bounce with every movement he makes, and the smile on his face when he watches you try to mimic what he showed you three seconds prior and you simply stand there, dumbfounded. And when he demonstrates how to hold a sword by wrapping his larger hands around yours? Gods be good, your hands have never shaken so much in your life. Of course, the kindhearted Jon Snow notices this.

“You’re trembling, are you cold? I can fetch you a thicker cloak.” He offers quietly, melting you beyond what you consider to be fair.

“N-No, I’m alright, thank you, just…not used to holding something like this, worried I’ll hurt someone.” That was not entirely dishonest, but it is definitely not the largest portion of the truth.

The look in Jon’s eyes then was something that you struggled to place, because you are so sure that you recognise it from moments of your childhood, when you said things to Jon that were simply kind, and he heard them as the most profound statements of his life. Jon remembers it well, but both you and he are perplexed by him looking at your brother with such an expression.

“The intention is to hurt someone with it, to protect yourself, if need be.” Jon says softly, though you can tell he is not paying much attention to his own words, too lost in your eyes to remember where the two of you are standing.

“I know, but I don’t want to hurt someone by accident, and with you standing so close, I am worried I will accidentally maim you…”

That not only brings a laugh from Jon, but Sam, Ed and Pyp, too, thinking your concern as very sweet, but knowing that Jon can easily block a poorly aimed swing if he has to.

By the end of the day’s training, you are under the impression that you have made quite the improvement, to at least appearing as though you have held a sword once before, as opposed to the embarrassment you inflicted upon yourself yesterday when you held it like a hot poker. During supper, Jon informs you that he is on watch tonight and that you are welcome to join him, unless you would rather turn in for the night. While every muscle and bone in your body protests against the idea of anything other than rest after such rigorous physical activity - the likes of which you have never punished yourself with before - the chance to spend more time with Jon, and to see the world from what you believe to be the top of it, is too idyllic to miss. The giddy grin on your face as you frantically nod at his invitation is enough to make Sam chuckle.

“I’ve never known someone so excited to go up there, it’s actually quite frightening!”

You shrug. “I’m sure it is, but I don’t doubt it’s beautiful, too.”

Jon nods, smiling at you warmly. “It is, the world is so quiet from up there. You’ll see.”

At that, you’re grinning again. “I can’t wait!”

And your grin does not waver, not on the walk to the lift, and not by the time you’ve stepped inside it, either. In fact, when you and Jon are almost halfway up the wall, you are practically bouncing with excitement. The sadness of saying goodbye to Ghost as he left with Sam instead of accompanying you is already forgotten, replaced by a thousand questions of what you’ll see when you reach the top of the world. Standing at your side and looking down at you, Jon laughs quietly, but doesn’t say anything, not daring to interrupt the scene of your eyes darting through every visible gap in the lift to the rising world outside. He is certain he has never found another man as enchanting as he finds you.

The lift stops at the top of the wall with a creak, and you jump out of your skin, purely from adrenaline, not fear, and the door cannot open quick enough. The gasp that escapes you the moment you can see a clear view from the top of the world, sends a warm cloud from your lips that disappears in an instant. Running to the closest end of the wall, you stop yourself at the edge and look down. Undeniably, there is a horrifying thought of what it would be like to fall from such a height, but most of all, you are in awe. Having always had an awareness of the world being so much bigger than you could ever comprehend, you never imagined that it would be this tall, it was not something that you were able to envision until this very moment.

Jon is back at your side in an instant, reading your wide eyes and nodding in understanding.

“It’s surreal, isn’t it?”

Looking up at the night sky, you laugh at yourself. “It is, but I was convinced I would be able to touch the clouds from here, so I can’t help being a little disappointed.”

Jon laughs with you, shaking his head at how effortlessly you can make him laugh by being so sweet, so you. “Unfortunately, I don’t think you’re quite tall enough.”

Gasping for an entirely different reason, you elbow Jon in his side at his jab at your height, both of you laughing like school children, feeling an easiness that neither of you have felt in years, not since you last saw each other. Both of you know that it is not the same thing he felt with your brother, nor that your brother felt with him, but neither of you dare to acknowledge such a thought.

Tucking your cloak beneath you, you sit down on the edge and dangle your legs over it, adjusting yourself to the view. Until Jon lowers himself to sit beside you, shoulder to shoulder, and you turn to look at an even better view. The very best, one could argue.

“I don’t mean to sound like a soppy git, but you being here really has turned this from a hellish life to one that I’m actually happy to live.” You tell him, honestly, and Jon gives you that same look again, reading your eyes and wondering how you could possibly say something so genuine and kind, sounding so familiar in a way that he can’t explain, but it hits his heart just like it always has when he’s known it comes from you.

“Thank you, I feel much the same. The friends I’ve found here have made everything more bearable, but you…a tether to the best parts of my life before it was this, it’s…nice, to have you around.” There’s a soft expression on his face as he watches you react to his words, face relaxing because you know that he understands exactly how you feel and reciprocates it. In one sense, at least.

Sighing deeply, you look ahead and, without thinking too much about it, rest your head on Jon’s shoulder. A minute of comfortable silence passes, neither of you wanting to disturb such a pure and perfect moment; silent and at peace, on top of the world. The same feeling shared in your pounding hearts, same warm faces and bashful smiles. And then, you break the silence.

“Soppy git.”

———————

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