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frogtanii · 3 years

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[buckle up; this one is a long one (1.6k words)]

things weren’t supposed to turn out this way.

she was supposed to show up, apologize “sincerely,” and the boys, her boys, were supposed to welcome her with open arms and swiftly discard of you.

instead, she was sitting in the back of a cramped police car with two pigs, one of which had a horrible b.o. problem and an affinity for sauerkraut.

it was so frustrating.

and, of course, it was all your fault.

you’d been blocking her from true happiness ever since the beginning when you’d first met in middle school. it was crazy because you’d actually seemed nice; kind, understanding, and you didn’t judge her for what her father did to her mother or for how she acted out because of that.

sure, you were a little weird and sometimes you could be downright rude to other kids in your class but you cared for her in a way that no one else had before.

(un)fortunately, you didn’t come alone — you were a packaged deal. your childhood friend, daishou, came into her life right along with you. she didn’t mind at first; daishou was fun when he wanted to be but he was mostly full of snarky comments and sarcastic quips.

the three of you spent all your time with each other; from playing at the playground to helping her begin her makeup youtube channel in 8th grade.

you all got along pretty well up until you got to highschool. once there, you threw yourself into your studies, sort of retracting yourself from her and daishou.

how selfish.

she couldn’t help but feel betrayed by you—you knew how bad she was at making friends and you didn’t even care, leaving her all alone to fend for herself.

well, not all by herself.

daishou was a constant. no matter where she was, or how alone she was feeling, he was there to provide entertainment at the most, and his presence at the least.

it wasn’t always the healthiest, most functional friendship, she could admit that. there were weeks that daishou would choose to ignore her for no apparent rhyme or reason, citing his explanation as he just didn’t feel like it.

obviously it sucked but he was her only friend, ever since you so cruelly abandoned them. i mean, you still ate lunch with them every day and invited them over to study and hang out, but it was not the same.

with you so absent, she grew closer and closer to daishou to the point she was spending almost every waking moment with him. and, as the story so goes, she fell for him, head over heels.

she knew it was a bad idea, if their friendship was anything to go off of but she didn’t care. she was desperate for love and physical affection and he seemed willing to at least give her the latter.

after she decided to confess, nerves all the way in her throat and a box of chocolates behind her back, daishou took her virginity in the back of his ford fusion, hard, fast and nothing like she’d imagined.

the next day, she’d cornered you in the library (where you always seemed to be) to tell you the good news. your face was unusually blank as she detailed the best night of her life to you, your response being less than stellar when she was done. “please be careful,” you had said.

what did that even mean? you clearly wanted to keep daishou safe from her which was ridiculous because weren’t you supposed to be her friend too? she’d stormed out of the library after that, determined to demand a kiss from daishou to make her feel better.

that day was one of the last that she’d see you for a while. you got caught up with clubs and schoolwork (and apparently therapy for god knows what) while she got caught up with daishou.

things with him weren’t... great. they never really were but things were getting even worse. his random bouts of silence got longer and though it was only freshman year and they’d been dating for less than 5 months, he’d meet with her after school with a hickey plastered on his collarbone that she knew she didn’t put there (she sucked even harder over the spot to claim it as her own).

as she said, things weren’t great but they weren’t horrible either. they remained that way all the way up until sophomore year.

you and her had drifted even further, hardly speaking to one another unless it was for a project or to vaguely greet one another in the halls. it was okay though. you had all your other friends and she... well she had daishou.

speaking of, her “boyfriend” had been more distant than usual. she wasn’t an idiot and she knew he’d been seeing other girls on the side, but she believed she would be the one he’d end up with, the one he’d marry.

how foolish she had been.

it was prom night and she felt beautiful. her beauty channel had finally begun picking up traction (she’d just hit 13k subscribers the night before!!) so she filmed a prom night makeup tutorial, making sure that every square inch of her face was perfect. donning a silky blue floor length dress, she felt like a princess and she certainly looked the part.

she showed up to daishou’s house about 30 minutes before the event, ringing his doorbell with an elated grin painted all over her face. he had mentioned in passing that his parents and older sister would be out for the weekend, leaving the house for themselves. that meant sex and sex meant being wanted.

after the third ring of the bell, she started to get nervous. maybe he wasn’t ready yet? maybe he needed help with his tie? just when she was about to wring the bell again, the door swung open to reveal daishou... not in his suit.

“oh, it’s you,” he’d grumbled. “‘m not goin’ to prom.” she felt her breath catch in her throat. she’d protested and begged for an explanation but he wouldn’t give one to her. eventually, she’d followed him into his house, furious because how could he do this to her? on her night?

it didn’t take very long for him to get fed up, his snake-like eyes honing in on her, filled with venom. “‘m not goin’ because i don’t like you anymore. you still look pretty though.”

just like that, with just a few words, he’d shattered her heart. she was frozen in place, completely disconnected from daishou, her love, as he not-so-gently pushed her out the door, slamming it in her face.

she felt tears stream down her cheeks and before she knew it, her legs were carrying her to a place she hadn’t been in months.

banging frantically on the door, she cried out, begging for someone, anyone to hear her. the door opened quickly and there you stood. you’d clearly been studying but as you took in her frazzled appearance, it seemed as though your heart broke.

you ushered her inside, sat her own the couch, and began to make her a cup of tea, your parents having been out for the night as well. once the kettle went off, you quickly prepped her drink and gave it to her, the words flowing out of her like liquid once she had taken a sip.

she didn’t know why she was even there but despite the animosity between the two of you, you seemed like you truly... cared. (neither of you mentioned the tears that stained your favorite t shirt or the quiet apologies you muttered into her hair).

that night quickly went and passed and by the next day, she was feeling rejuvenated and more like herself. however, that feeling quickly dissipated when she caught you in the hallway between classes speaking with daishou behind the stairwell in hushed tones.

within the span of a few hours, her heart had been broken twice and she was sure she’d never felt such heartache before.

she turned on her heel and darted away, avoiding your every attempt to talk to her for weeks and weeks until you just... stopped trying. after you’d cut off conversation, yet again, the sadness quickly festered and morphed into anger.

that anger only grew when she watched you graduate at the top of your class in your senior year, your smile blinding as you accepted your diploma. it only grew when she saw that you had made it into the university of your choice on your instagram story, her own rejection letter torn up in the bottom of her wastebin. it only grew when she saw you’d made your own youtube channel, her own going untouched and neglected (her last video had been a half-assed “get ready with me” that had more dislikes than likes due to her horrible makeup and even worse attitude).

soon enough, the rage had intensified until it had taken over her whole being. she was just so angry at all that you’d done to her, all the ways you’d ruined her life that she couldn’t keep herself from plotting your demise.

when she got the email from the hyper house management team that invited her into the house and offered the option that she could pick someone she wanted to move in as well, her anger turned into excitement.

this was her chance. this was her moment to turn your life into a living hell, to make it at least a fraction of what she went through by your hands.

she was going to make you pay and god, was it going to feel great.

the metal of the handcuffs chafed her wrists as she adjusted herself against the cool leather of the cruiser, the discomfort removing her from her reverie.

yeah, right. it seemed as though she was the only one “paying” right about now.

she tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling, tears filling her eyes but refusing to fall.

things definitely weren’t meant to turn out like this. not at all.

℗ poker face

not like this

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - OMFG THE BACKSTORY REVEALED I AM SO OVER IT >:(( this took me forever to write and i still wasn’t able to include everything i wanted to so hop over to my asks if you need any clarification!! oh oh && just a reminder, this playlist is from meiko’s perspective so chances are, things didn’t exactly go just like this wink wonk KAJS ANYWAYS DONT FORGET TO FEED ME ILY <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

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maidenvault · 2 years

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please talk more about the weird psychosexual vibes in The Batman because I felt troubled by some of it but it also felt hot?

Oh my God, so. I’d say what makes it work despite having an uncomfortable dynamic at parts is that Selina’s the one who is so transparently into him and always initiating it when they kiss. The way her eyes roam up and down him when they first look at each other and again later when she says “I have a thing about strays”...LOL he doesn’t know what to do with this!! And that line says so much about how she instinctively recognizes another damaged person who has been deprived of so much and hides it, who has reasons for all of his giant flaws, which has to be largely what draws them to each other. I love that it’s never commented on by either of them that they’re both dressed up like weirdos. They’ve both been hurt badly enough to leave any sense of normalcy behind in some single-minded pursuit that skirts the law, and it doesn’t need comment or explanation because they both get it.

And it’s such a testament to Pattinson’s performance that you buy her attraction to him even though she never sees his face. It’s unbelievable how expressive he manages to be with the cowl on. His eyes soften so much when he looks at her closely. This is such a unique and strange portrayal of Batman, the more he acts hard and impassive the more this weird vulnerability seems to come through. He’s so repressed and locked inside himself. How can she resist?

It also definitely helps, at least for me, that I think the relationship is supposed to be troubling and there is a purpose to that. There are a lot of parallels between Batman and the Riddler in this movie, and this Riddler is clearly a representation of the gross, radicalized 8chan incel type. When he describes how Bruce grew up safely removed from the common people’s problems and just watching them from his tower, it’s more apt than he could know because Batman has made a whole damn thing out of studying people from a distance and uses his own technology to survey and record them. His detachment from the world around him and resulting bad social skills definitely includes not relating to women very well. He pressures Selina into situations she’s not fully comfortable with, and so stupidly can’t see her discomfort when Falcone talks to her. He watches her changing through her window, obviously not for pervy reasons and really not seeing much compared to what she was wearing before but DUDE NO. (I think it’s interesting, though, that once he’s made himself known to her and wants her to cooperate with him he lets her know right off the bat how long he’s been following her and that he was watching her at her place, by saying something regarding Annika like “She did seem upset.”)

I feel like I have to talk about an interpretation I’ve only recently come across, that what Bruce is really freaking out about re: her knowing Falcone is the possibility that she is OMG a sex worker!! And that the twist about him being her father disappointingly lets him off the hook for his non-empathetic attitude about that. If that is actually what’s intended without the film more clearly saying it (ridiculously, it's trying to not be completely inappropriate for children), then indeed that is exceedingly gross and ugly and can’t really be excused, just adamantly ignored as subtext.

I really don’t think that’s what’s going on, though? He knows Selina didn’t work in the 44 Below like Annika, she isn’t recognized there. When Bruce starts obsessing over whether she might have slept with Falcone, to me it’s clear he’s imagining something more personal than the transactional and coercive situation of being an escort for dangerous men like this, hence the judgment. The fact that the latter, much darker possibility doesn’t even seem to occur to him probably further shows his privilege and cluelessness about women’s experience, and maybe that should have been addressed somehow. But it just seems absurd to think when he’s obsessively replaying the footage of her talking about Falcone, he’s disgustedly imagining that she’s *gasp* been paid for sex. That’s so uninteresting and cartoonishly puritanical it’s hard for me to give this otherwise really good screenplay that little credit. It’s more than that, Bruce is trying to figure out what her deal is and if she’s even a trustworthy person. She doesn’t seem like someone who’d be messing with a place like the Iceberg Lounge out of desperation; she’s a skilled cat burglar and there’s clearly more to her than she’s told him. Bruce is unforgiving of weakness in himself and he is very attracted to Selina despite not being sure he can trust her, so he’s really unfair in judging her based on what information he has as if this can guard him from being femme-fataled. Yeah, it’s sexism. But hopefully not that level of sexism.

After she gets the cash, his ultimate conclusion before she tells him the truth is that she got close to the mob to steal from them. It’s money earned by destroying lives which as far as he can see she took for purely self-serving reasons, and he hoped there was more to her than this. That this was apparently her motivation for associating with such terrible people, selling drugs in the club and who knows what else, is disappointing. It’s definitely a bunch of bullshit how judgmentally he confronts her about it (she just found her girlfriend dead in a trunk, you could at least just ghost her if you don’t like her anymore like a normal person but nooo).

So yeah, Bruce treats her in a fucked up way through some of this movie. But she calls him out on his privileged way of thinking and shows him that other people’s lives and choices can be much more complicated than his have ever been. And honestly, I’m not sure that their connection evolves to much more than sexual attraction until the moment he stops her from killing Falcone. Earlier when he gives her the “Then you’re no better than him” line he is as usual applying to everyone else the rigid moral standard he holds himself to as if he’s just like everyone else (and projecting like hell since he’s just learned how one mistake of his father would have tainted all the good he ever could have done from that point on if he was able to continue a political career). But later he’s empathizing with her, actually meaningfully reaching out to her as someone who is also traumatized, because he cares and killing her own father isn’t something he wants her to carry.

(Then of course not long after she was just strangled by her own dad, she gets attacked by redpilled guy #7 and Bruce very nearly crosses that line himself by fucking murdering the guy and it's maybe the most fucked up and sexy thing in the movie. Put me in jail.)

#batcat #the batman #selina kyle #catwoman #asks #my meta #the goddamn batman #dc #the batman meta

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silenceinternalmonologue · 3 years

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A Review of Loki (2021)

[The following is an exact transcription of Twitter user @/diolesbian ‘s thread linked here . They gave me permission to cross-post their thread on my Tumblr. Keep in mind that this review is fairly long and quite critical of the series. I agree with this review wholeheartedly, and would be welcome to discuss it with anyone else.]

Loki is a character who has died many times, but his own series may be his most brutal character assassination yet.

1. Loki’s role in the series. Instead of tackling Loki's most villainous state of mind in Avengers 1, the series literally speedran through his development in the subsequent films, after which they almost entirely halted his character progression.

Because this series was set right after Avengers 1 it had the responsibility of developing Loki further in place of The Dark World and Ragnarok. In Episode 1, this development was kicked off by having Loki watch a reel of some of his defining moments in the MCU, allowing him to see his future all the way up to his death in Infinity War. Sadly, this scene ended up being the most development he received in the entire series. And arguably, this isn’t even true development but more like a speedrun of his character up until that point, serving as a simple tactic to explain why he wouldn’t be acting all dictatorial and murderous during his own series. As soon as he had been made “good” (read: docile) enough to follow along with the plot, his agency was completely thrown out. From that point on, the series wasn’t about Loki making things happen but about things happening to Loki.

Loki was supposed to be the main character, but he wasn't the protagonist in this story. In fact, he was more of a side character than we’ve ever seen him be in the MCU before, perhaps excepting IW and Endgame.

A protagonist is by definition someone whose important decisions affect the plot, whose development is followed most closely by the audience, and who is opposed by an antagonist. Loki exhibited none of these traits in this series. Especially the latter half of the story, he was reduced to simply reacting to the revelations around him, such as the reveal that the TVA members were all variants and that Kang was the true mastermind behind everything. He never truly involved himself or acted based on any of these plot points, and hardly played a key role in what was supposed to be his own story. Even in the films, where Loki is a side character, he makes choices which impact the plot to a larger extent. He almost seems more like a background character in the role of protagonist than in the parts he plays in the films.

2. The antagonist. The TVA could have worked as the perfect setting for Loki to have a new arc. It’s a thematic antithesis to who we know Loki to be. But when this Loki turns out to not be who the audience thought he was the TVA’s thematic significance falls apart as well.

In Episode 1, the TVA’s Agent Mobius enlists the help of Loki the Variant to pin down a greater foe who we are told is another, more malicious version of Loki. Order and chaos meeting in the middle, teaming up to take down an enemy, who even happens to be the protagonists’ literal evil self: that works, it sounds promising. But this dynamic is soon undermined when Loki leaves with Sylvie. Still, the benefit of the doubt is easy to grant here: a story about tricksters is bound to contain twists. But by Episode 3 the series is halfway done and the TVA has been appointed as the main antagonist again: we’ve now established villains three different times. And then the Cloud Monster At The End Of Time is introduced, and finally Kang. In other words, the Loki series has no consistent antagonist, no one to pit its main character against. And this is where we once again miss out on an enormous aspect of Loki’s potential characterization.

Protagonists are always defined by an antagonist, whether a purple Titan, a flat tire, or themself. Loki is not given anything to define his morals, motivations, or development in opposition to and this is a huge oversight. Especially given the fact that Loki has taken on the villain’s role in the past: how is the audience supposed to know that the “bad guy” is now a “good guy” if there’s no “even worse guy” to stand up against?

3. The plot. A plot should show off its MC’s strengths and match their personality. The Loki plot hardly relied on his presence at all, he didn't play a key role. The story had so little to do with Loki that it seemed as though he has barely any impact on “his” narrative.

One of the most central conflicts in the Loki series doesn’t involve him at all: it’s between Sylvie and the TVA. This plotline was a good concept overall, but its main problem is that it’s practically the only conflict in the series. Loki himself, as mentioned before, isn’t set in opposition to anything or anyone. And thanks to his relationships with Sylvie and Mobius being weakened by conflicting storytelling devices, he appears to be in a bubble by himself away from the rest of the cast for much of the story. First he follows Mobius around, then Sylvie, then he wanders aimlessly in the void before following Sylvie once again and learning that Kang is a Really Bad Guy who he should be opposed to even though by this point he has interacted so little with the story unfolding around him that the audience doesn’t even understand why he should be choosing to play the hero.

The plot and the characters both suffer by being so incredibly unrelated to each other. A series, especially an MCU one, should tell an overarching narrative through the perspective of its main character.

In the beginning of the series, when Loki was still getting his bearings in the TVA, this lack of decision-making was more understandable, especially since some of his skills were still being shown-- he discovered Sylvie was hiding in nexus events, and he made the choice to leave Mobius and follow her. But by the latter half of the series he still hasn’t had much impact on the story or taken any actions of his own, and simply allows plot points to happen to him. Just because the Loki series had to introduce the TVA and Kang didn’t mean it had to forgo telling a story about its protagonist. If Loki’s story had been intrinsically tied to the overarching plot points, if his choices had been some of the primary factors determining how events ended up taking place, the series would have succeeded in every aspect. But instead Loki is pushed aside by the plot of his own series, a plot which subsequently ends up coming across as largely hollow and pointless due to its lack of character drive.

4. Loki’s arc. One of the main reasons MCU Loki is loved is for his excellent character development across his films. TVA Loki was extremely lacking in that aspect and chances to take his character in interesting new self-aware directions were thrown away without much thought.

Throughout the MCU, Loki is on a journey with many highs and lows. He goes from a bitter and disheartened prince standing in the shadow of his brother, to a self-loathing Jotun bent on destroying his own people in a desperate attempt to win his father’s love, to a half-mad partially mind-controlled dictator with delusions of grandeur fueled by his own insecurity, to a prisoner wondering what there is left for him to lose, to a savior of Asgard’s people finally coming to accept his place in what is left of his family, to a tragic sacrificial victim who knew he had to die so the true hero might live on. That’s a hell of a journey, incidentally shown in less than TWO HOURS of screen time, and the prospect of TVA Loki embarking on an equally stimulating one, this time told over the course of over four hours and shown from his own perspective the entire way through, was exciting. But as it turned out, this relatively simple expectation went completely unmet.

For a story trying to say so much about individuality and self-acceptance, the Loki series seemed to pass by every obvious opportunity to tackle those questions.

Sylvie’s introduction seemed like a good idea at first: Loki would be able to literally bond with himself and learn to accept who he is that way, and forays could be made to explore what Loki’s personality could have been like if he grew up under different circumstances! But aside from a scene or two in Episode 3, this was not how things ended up going. Loki didn’t come to any grand or important conclusions about his identity, he didn’t choose to act differently, all that happened was a vaguely-worded confession of pseudo-romantic feelings which was cut off in the middle, made no sense, and weakened the narrative in a whole host of other ways explained elsewhere. Loki’s encounter with other versions of themself in the Void was similarly meaningless: Loki didn’t end up expressing or demonstrating a single thing he learned from meeting all of those alternate selves, despite the fact that there was potential for massive self-discovery there.

Less than 2 hours of MCU screen time portrayed Loki more coherently than this entire series. Loki is loved because of how much he changes, and it felt like he didn’t in this series. He started off lost and stayed that way throughout the entire plot.

By the end of the series, it was impossible to identify who Loki had become. He said he didn’t want a throne, but it was not obvious why not. He looked sad to be betrayed by Sylvie, but never expressed what that meant to him. He seemed afraid once Kang was unleashed, but why? Why did he care about the Sacred Timeline? What were his motivations? Throughout the series the answers to these questions became less and less obvious, culminating in the final episode which ended without a single moment of reflection or explanation as to who Loki had become. He wasn’t a villain, but only because he wasn’t murdering people. He was in some capacity a hero, for… being against Kang, probably, but once again with no explanation as to why Loki had decided to feel that way. He never seemed self-assured in his heroism, as if he hadn’t chosen the role for himself. Again, making one’s own choices that shape the narrative are what differentiates a protagonist from a side character, but Loki did not do that in this series.

5. Loki and Sylvie’s relationship. Loki and Sylvie had the potential to be a powerful duo representing the process of self-acceptance but instead they were reduced to a strange pseudo-romance.

Despite Loki’s many developments in the films, he never truly liked himself. He has been known to act extremely confident and self-righteous at times, but this is merely the opposite side of the coin containing his self-loathing and insecurity. Having him literally meet and subsequently befriend himself in Episode 3 was a move towards developing this aspect of him and potentially teaching him to finally accept himself as he truly is, but this buildup was all shattered in Episode 4 when the relationship is portrayed to have romantic undertones. Instead of a powerful struggle to accept oneself, the relationship between Loki and Sylvie becomes a twisted thing which is memeable at best (selfcest LOL amirite?) and outright damaging to both characters and the very concept of loving oneself at worst.

Ultimately, Loki and Sylvie's relationship didn’t add anything to either character’s development and actively detracted from what could have been a touching story.

Romantic love is extremely different from self love; romantic love has connotations including dating conventions and sexuality which are impossible to ignore and in this case serve as a distraction. And on top of ruining a potentially powerful storyline, this strange relationship makes both Loki and Sylvie seem out of character. Loki is once again one thousand years old and he has never even had a true friend, so why would he possibly fall for someone after knowing them for only two days? Meanwhile in Sylvie’s case, Loki’s “feelings” for her cause the audience to pay more attention to her romantic life and gestures rather than her actual character and motivations.

6. Loki’s Sexuality and Gender Fluidity. Loki’s sexuality and gender has been shown in several comic runs, and the series was advertised as featuring this representation as well. But due to several fundamental errors and problematic storytelling this also fell flat.

Sylvie’s introduction filled many fans with hope regarding the portrayal of Loki’s identity. In the MCU neither of their LGBT identities had ever been touched upon, while the series introduced a female variant of Loki and explicitly stated their sexuality. But this portrayal soon unraveled, most notably in Episode 5, in which many other Loki variants were shown but not a single one besides Sylvie was non-male. On top of that, when TVA Loki mentioned Sylvie and referred to her as “a woman Variant of us”, the other Lokis agreed that that sounded “terrifying”. Why should a genderfluid being be afraid of a version of themselves presenting as a different gender? It read as both fluidphobic not to mention strangely sexist.

The pseudo-romance between Loki and Sylvie only aggravated the situation. Not only did the nature of the “relationship” seem to follow heteronormative storytelling tropes (falling in love after a couple days of knowing each other, one party being reduced to a love interest, valuing romantic love above any other type, etc) but it also seemed distressing and offensive to many genderfluid people. A romance between a male and a female Loki, one of which doesn’t even call herself by that name, seems to be implying that an individual becomes someone else when merely presenting as a different gender, which of course isn’t at all the case. The writing wasn’t necessarily malicious here, but it was certainly ignorant and potentially even harmful. The opportunity was there to translate Loki’s powerful comic representation into the framework of the MCU, but this attempt did not succeed.

7. Loki’s characterization. Loki is a chameleon, but there are certain traits fundamental to his character. These traits were either ignored or actively mocked in the series. The audience already knew “what makes a Loki a Loki", but the series threw that knowledge away.

Episode 1’s premise of stripping Loki of everything he is used to was an intriguing setup to ensure the discovery of the core of who Loki truly is. The only problem was that this truth didn’t end up being found at all. Mobius made fun of Loki’s most defining traits, such as his habits of lying to manipulate people and acting out of a place of insecurity, which seemed to be a signal for the narrative to forbid Loki from exhibiting any of those traits from that point on in any way. This reduction in Loki’s character was reflected in everything, from his lack of humor (in the films he’s even funny while he’s taking over the world!), the underpowered way in which he fought against Sylvie (he’ll use magic to dry his clothes, but fight with a damn vacuum cleaner?) to the way that he wore the same boring outfit in every single episode-- it may sound shallow, but clothes are important when presenting a character. Every one of Loki’s looks in the films said something about him and his state of mind, and sadly that bland TVA outfit seemed to convey that Loki really was nothing more than a subservient pawn in what was supposed to be his own story. Ironically, the writing stripped Loki of everything that made him Loki, and left us with nothing but a Jotun-shaped void to be swayed by the whims and wills of the characters and plot devices surrounding him.

8. Loki’s past and abilities. This series could have elaborated on aspects of his character which had been teased at in the films and theorized about by fans, but ended up being a disappointment in this aspect as well.

Aside from Loki’s characterization and development, something else the series ignores is much of his canon story in the films. Since Thor 1, a truth that always overshadowed Loki was his Jotun heritage. He struggled with it up until the time of his death, clearly visible in his relationship with his foster family. It’s understandable that Loki was supposed to be independent from Thor in his series, but that’s no excuse for completely ignoring this central part of who Loki is. It doesn’t matter how much he goes through or how much his circumstances change, this feeling of unbelonging sits deep in Loki’s core and should have been both explored and explicitly discussed in the series. A series all about Loki was the perfect opportunity for him to finally confront and explain his relationship with his heritage, and potentially come to terms with it as well. And this isn’t even to say how cool some more insight on Loki’s Jotun inheritance could have been-- hypotheticals aren’t the point of this review, but it would have been fascinating to see Loki reacting adversely to heat like he has been hinted to in the past or even using his ice powers like he did in Thor 1.

Loki's magic was tragically underused. It felt like he was stripped of all of his magical powers even after his TVA chains had been removed, and this was never explained.

A second huge oversight is his magic. His powers are all over the place in this series. They were always a bit vague in the films, but this series was the opportunity to set that right and explain exactly what Loki was capable of as a sorcerer, especially now that the MCU has embraced magic more than it had ten years ago. But instead, Loki showcased an inexplicable lack of magic use-- again, the vacuum cleaner fight can be presented as evidence. There is a single scene in which Loki says that he learned his magic from Frigga, but no information is given as to how much he learned or why he doesn’t always favor spells. His power levels are incredibly inconsistent (he forgoes using magic when first confronted by the TVA, but is later shown using telekinesis to save himself from being literally crushed to death). And, strangest of all, there is a scene in which he tells Sylvie that he “can’t” enchant living beings. Loki, the millennium year old Trickster sorcerer god, who can hold an Infinity Stone with his bare hands, reanimate Surtur in the Eternal Flame, and trick the average person using illusions with ease, can’t cast a little enchantment? And if so, why not? The series offered precious few explanations concerning Loki’s magical abilities and instead only raised more questions. And in this way, Loki is once again relegated into the background and left with not a single shred of any new characterization or development.

Loki contains multitudes, but the series reduced him to two dimensions.

This isn’t to mention every other facet of Loki’s story that could have potentially been explored to great success in this series-- his torture and subsequent partial mental influence at the hands of Thanos just before the events of Avengers 1 is one obvious example, as is his youth on Asgard, as are his suicidal tendencies (people don’t tend to survive falling off the Bifrost, and he knew that when he threw himself off of it), plus infinite other facets of him. Of course, it was both necessary and more interesting for this series to be its own story rather than one which lingered on past films-- but that’s not to say that none of these plot points should have come back, at least subtly, to play a role in this story. Plot points exist to be brought back later, not completely ignored. Otherwise a story may as well be written about a completely original character.

#loki #loki 2021 #loki disney+#loki discussion #loki discourse #loki spoilers #lokius #loki x mobius #loki x sylvie #sylki #marvel #marvel discourse #loki review #mcu loki #loki series #loki season finale #loki season 1 #loki ship

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mikeshanlon · 3 years

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i really enjoy the way young royals explores the theme of legacy and how detrimental it can be to have to live up to a legacy or be obsessed with reputation. (analysis and thoughts under the cut)

i think wilhelm resents the fact that he has to live up to the role of being in the royal family and yet is very afraid of ruining that legacy bc of all the pressure. before he was sent off to hillerska he went to a normal school and wanted normal people around him and was content with erik having to take on the responsibilities of crown prince. and when he does have to assume that role he says he can never be erik, that he’s always had to be compared to him and obviously doesn’t like that. but even before erik passed and he had to take on those duties he was afraid of fucking up the legacy of the crown, when he sees that sign in the hallway that says you are in charge of your own legacy after he holds hands with simon, his anxiety worsens. you can tell it’s been instilled in him for a long time that what is most important is the crown’s reputation rather than his own wants. in the scene where him and simon fight about alexander being caught, he obviously wants simon to stay, but he focuses on how him doing drugs will fuck up his family’s reputation if it gets leaked. as much as he cares for simon, his legacy and his duties are like this oppressive cloud hanging over him.

i do think that wille cares for his family of course but to me it’s different that the sort of loyal unconditional care with simon and his sister/mom. erik and wille had unconditional love, erik understood how difficult being a prince in the public eye was, and wille obviously cared for him deeply and felt like he could to talk to him about issues. his relationship with the queen is much more strained, she wants a tailored, doctored representation of him in the media, he cannot be anxious and bite his nails, she makes all the decisions for him. family is important to wille partially because it has to be bc of how special his family is. he helps his family, he helps august pay his tuition, and then makes a point of disowning august after his betrayal as his new “brother”. but again, because of the royal status and expectations upon the family, that supersedes and colors all of their relationships with each other. it seems to be more a sense of “duty” than unconditional love. especially after erik’s death, wille always has to consider how the crown’s image will be impacted, even though he never wanted to have this responsibility, or even the responsibility of being the “regular” prince under erik. being a family unit that is under constant public scrutiny is going to strain relationships. the queen knows that the anxiety of fucking up his legacy will get to him, and she uses that to get wilhelm to back out of admitting it was him in the video and coming out. wilhelm has to choose between his own happiness and their reputation, is forced to think that denying it’s him in the video is the only way. he loves simon and wanted to live freely, but that pressure of legacy won out.

i don’t know if i think wille necessarily values the crown over his own personal happiness and relationships, like in the way maybe the queen does--i don’t think it comes from a place of “i’m lucky to be prince and owe my duty to the crown, so i do what i have to do to stay that way” (like how the queen said the crown is a privilege not a punishment), but from fear of destroying the legacy and his family. afterall, he still wanted to pursue a secret relationship with simon, i think if he fully valued the crown and uplifting legacy and fulfilling his duties he wouldn’t have tried that. he wouldn’t have made a point to tell simon he loves him. hopefully we get another season because i think with the iconic ending revolution rendition and him looking in the camera, which also parallels the shot of him being forced to apologize/go to hillerska, he is realizing that focusing on legacy is taking away what’s important to him, and he’s going to shake shit up.

august is definitely the most obsessed with legacy, wanting to carry on his father’s business, being persistent on befriending wilhelm and trying to social climb, wanting power and perfection with being prefect, rowing captain etcetera. he is so obsessed with perfection and reputation he gets addicted to drugs, he fucks with simon and makes him get stuff for parties he can’t afford because good parties will make him look better, he manipulates sara multiple times, he mostly wanted felice because of her nobility, he fucking films wilhelm and simon and OUTS him, his own cousin. he hates that wille has everything he wants but isn’t as interested in preserving and more importantly improving the legacy he’s inheriting. meanwhile august’s familial legacy is dwindling, and he holds on to the last bit of assets and names that he can.... v much sick and a weirdo that shows how harmful being obsessed with legacy is

the queen is of course v focused on legacy and it really breaks my heart and makes me angry that she doesn’t care about wilhelm’s happiness more than their reputation, and moreso doesn’t get august in trouble for literally leaking child p*rn of her kid for the sake of appearances?!?!?! like how is he even remotely trustworthy she is wrong for that! like i said earlier the obsession with legacy puts a strain on their mother/son relationship. she doesn’t even really say anything about wille’s sexuality or his relationship, and barely comforts him, mostly goes in with a plan she’s already concocted without him to fix everything.

erik seemed to understand and accept his role as crown prince but obviously had issues with it as well, like when he makes the plan for him and wilhelm to run from the press, or when he tells wilhelm to enjoy himself while there aren’t so many eyes on him that care. erik shows someone who has more unconditional love and empathy but still has to focus on legacy and is much more inclined to continue his legacy, but we do see those glimpses over how even the most “ideal” attitude of preserving legacy causes issues.

felice is expected to live up to her mother’s legacy, of being an equestrian, of being the lucia, but she doesn’t want either of those things. her mother wants her to be thinner and straighten her hair, and find someone of nobility to be with. obviously she does find wilhelm attractive lol but i think the main reason she pursued him and definitely why she pursued august was because she was expected to social climb and have royal kids. felice feels the need to portray a false narrative of herself on social media to uphold a certain image of herself. it’s very fucked up that her mom wants those values instilled in her but i love that felice was putting up boundaries and pushing back against her mother and the narrative she’s supposed to live up to. her giving sara the role of lucia and focusing on supporting her friends more in the latter half of the season shows growth and i’m excited to see where her story goes.

sara is interesting because she seems to want to reject the legacy of her family and being working class and to fit in with the elite of hillerska. sara hates micke, hates that simon contacted him because it’s bringing in this “shameful” and painful part of their past (which i mean is def fair). other than sara’s betrayal in 1.06, i think the scene where she tells her family that she wants to reside at hillerska really exemplifies where she’s at in her relation to legacy/class. after dining at hillerska and living amongst the elite she gets annoyed at eating around the TV, she blames her mother for not leaving micke sooner, she gets angry with simon for caring for her. she wants to lead her own life, be popular and wanted because people want her, not for pity (even though i think simon of course truly cares abt his sister she feels annoyed with his protection and care). felice says early on that she thinks sara doesn’t care what other’s think or having friends, and sara says she still wants friends though. i think sara’s biggest thing is she wants to belong, her and simon moved schools after she was bullied for being autistic so i think that definitely affected her even though she tries to act nonchalant about hillerska at first. we see sara’s longing to fit in in smaller ways at first, like her asking her mom for a better piece of her uniform because hers are “cheap” and already worn out. she gets annoyed at simon for chewing loudly, or her mother sitting casually at the table. as she gets closer to felice and madison and all the other students, the allure of the upper class and their lifestyle draws her in more. so much to the point where she gets very anxious and upset at the idea of her and simon leaving hillerska because he’s having his own crisis and doesn’t consider his pov. so much so that she effectively betrays simon and felice, the people she’s closest to, to make a deal (and make out lol) with august to room there and “be just like him”. personally i think sara’s attraction to august is mostly that allure of the elite and that he seemed to “desire” her when he kissed her because he was being a manipulative dickhead--again that want to fit in and be wanted. and i think there is a really interesting angle of jealousy and competition in female friendships, even if it is really subtle or not intentionally insidious or anything, sara does slowly start to trying to assume all the roles/fashions/mannerisms of felice to live that life she wants. i do think felice and sara’s care for each other is genuine and one of my fave parts of the show, but i think a lot of people who experienced being a teen girl know how we are always pitted against each other even in our subconscious because of how society treats and values women.

simon seems to be the character that is least interested in upholding legacy and tradition or giving a fuck what anyone thinks (as omar said here lmao) and that makes him a really interesting foil to wilhelm. there could be something said about micke fearing that simon is following in his footsteps, but to me that plot more so reveals how the upper class (august) continually exploit the working class for their benefit, and the trappings of generational oppression. the other thing that can be said is simon signing up for private tutoring and rowing, but again i think that serves to further show that he is forced to “play” by the game of the elites because the school/society is corrupt, and also, that simon has further ambitions outside of where he’s at. he wants to get good grades because he wants to explore new places and avenues. to me simon’s biggest motivations are his passions, the things and people he loves--music, his family, wilhelm. he isn’t loyal to others just because he’s expected to be, or uphold a certain image but because he really cares. he doesn’t watch out for sara because that’s his expected role as her brother to do so, but because he cares. he wasn’t interested in knowing wilhelm because he’s a prince like everyone else, he makes it clear he thinks the royal family are privileged and exploitative, but he is interested because he saw the real wilhelm. he’s out and proud even though his elite classmates are more conservative, he doesn’t care about voicing his unpopular opinions, he has no problem walking away from august’s dickhead behavior or calling him out on his shit. simon doesn’t care if people don’t think of him in the best light. (the only exceptions ig are the drugs conflict and the video, though literally anyone would have a problem with that because it’s much deeper that public opinion and has ramifications and is deeply traumatic--but just adding that before someone is like “well actually!”) i also think it’s interesting that most of the songs simon sings has themes of pushing back against the societal norms, and being remembered in history, plus of course the revolution song motif, and how much those songs affect wilhelm, he seems to connect deeply, like he wishes he could do those things but simon is the one who gets to sing them and actually live them.

#young royals #the way this is 2k words lmfao #i do not expect ppl read to this but when the analytical worm starts gnawing on my rottin brain i must oblige

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spacedikut · 4 years

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“i want to love someone and be loved” ; spencer reid - part 2

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: spencer decides it’s time to tell you, but he needs some help. 3887 words. part 1

a/n: THIS is the longest fic ive ever written but im actually kinda proud of how it turned out? i hope this is a good sequel :)

Spencer chickens out of telling you the next day.

He avoids you all weekend, actually. You resisted texting him the day after Rossi’s because you assumed he’d be busy – with his big plan involving a girl that isn’t you. You’re not bitter – but Sunday comes around and you message him not long after you wake up and six hours later there’s no response.

Twelve hours later - there’s no response.

Monday, you don’t have time to say hello to anyone – there’s a case waiting for you, somewhere in Florida.

Reid avoids your eyes. His body language tells you something is wrong, so you assume whoever he confessed to didn’t reciprocate (they’re insane) and he’s dealing with it. So you don’t press.

Spencer pretends to sleep the entire jet ride. He’s avoiding everyone, not just you.

He spent the whole weekend beating himself up. He drove to your apartment on Saturday, sat outside for so long a neighbour knocked on his window and asked if he was lost, but couldn’t bring himself to step foot out of his car.

So he locked himself in his room, away from you and your loveliness and away from his phone because he knew you texted him and he knew you’d send some soft message about being there for him if he needs anything and he didn’t need to be reminded of how beautiful and out of reach you are.

Derek seemed to be waiting for him Monday morning, arms crossed as he held a cup of coffee. It was weird seeing him in before Spencer.

“How’d it go?” He immediately asked.

“How’d what go?” Spencer mumbles, flinging his bag on the floor by his desk. He slumps in his seat.

Derek raises a dark eyebrow, “You know what, pretty boy. You had a big thing? Big plan?”

“Didn’t work out.”

It doesn’t take a profiler to realise Spencer is very clearly saying leave me alone. Leave it alone.

Derek isn’t one to leave it alone. Especially when it comes to Spencer.

He sighs and moves a little closer to Spencer’s desk, just in case someone overhears them.

“What happened?”

“That’s exactly it,” Spencer slams open a file, “Nothing happened.”

“And why did nothing happen?”

“Because I’m an idiot that can’t even tell a girl how I feel.”

“Whoa- hey!”

Derek spins Spencer’s chair so they’re face to face. Derek takes one look in Spencer’s eyes and knows what’s going on – he got too into his head and backed out at the last minute.

“You’re not an idiot. Why didn’t you do it?”

Spencer shrugs, “I got to her apartment. I had flowers, too. I don’t know.”

Derek’s evidently concerned – Spencer’s beaten up over this, over whoever this girl is, and he deserves the chance to experience love. Spencer deserves a lot more than he himself thinks he does.

“You seemed really excited, man. You can still do it. Just cause you try once and it doesn’t work out doesn’t mean you can’t ever try again.”

Spencer stares off into the distance, accidentally ignoring Derek as his thoughts slip out of his mouth, “Yeah, it probably wouldn’t have worked anyway – I was stupid to think I could get someone like her.”

“Hey, no.” Derek nudges Spencer’s shoulder so he looks at him again, “Don’t talk like that. You’re one hell of a guy, Reid. All you gotta do is get that confidence that you had Friday night back, and you’re all set. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Spencer gives a feeble nod. Derek moves back to his desk, knowing he isn’t convinced, but he isn’t done yet.

+++

Later, in Florida, Spencer’s making a coffee in the precinct’s kitchen after waiting twenty minutes for you to leave. Luck’s on his side, for once, and you’ve been working non-stop with Prentiss going crime scene to crime scene so he hasn’t had to actively avoid you. You smile at him every chance you get, though, and it distracts him.

Someone clears their throat behind him. It’s Penelope, whom Spencer didn’t realise was invited on this case.

She looks guilty. Spencer recognises that face; the face she has when she’s done something she shouldn’t have or knows something she isn’t really supposed to. Given current circumstances, Spencer bets it’s the latter reason.

“Morgan told me something he shouldn’t have.”

Bingo.

He leans against the kitchen counter, stirring his coffee absentmindedly.

“What did he tell you?” He asks, feigning tranquillity. Inside he’s screaming non-stop.

She’s got her hands clasped together in front of her, almost innocently, and fiddles with her fingers, “He told me you needed assistance in the love department.” Before he can object, she continues, “And I am willing to do anything if it means our resident weirdo-slash-genius falls in love and gets to experience some much needed cuteness.”

There’s no point in lying to her. There’s also no point in being mad that Morgan told her about his situation – they’re kind of a package deal. And, who knows, Garcia might be able to help.

“So…” She sways, trying (and failing) to appear nonchalant, “Who’s the lucky lady?”

Spencer shuffles on the spot, scuffing his shoes against the floor. He debates whether he should tell her, since, you know, you’re in the next room over, but Spencer worries that Garcia is so good at her job she’d somehow find out through hacking Spencer’s phone, or maybe somehow hacking his dreams. His subconscious. He’s terrified of Garcia and her abilities.

“You can tell me.” She insists, “I’m much better at keeping secrets than Morgan.”

Spencer turns away from her, she steps closer, and he mumbles your name.

“What?”

“Y/N.”

“WHAT?!”

Spencer spins, hands coming up to tell Garcia to shut up and Garcia immediately covers her mouth in both shock and hopefully so she doesn’t shout again.

“Since when?!” She screeches. “How could I not have known?! Oh God, almighty Doctor Reid, I feel like I’ve failed you by not realising earlier.”

Her enthusiasm makes him smile, for the first time in far too long. Garcia has that power – this innate skill to comfort those around her and make them feel special, make them smile when the world feels like its collapsing.

“Let me help!” She requests.

Spencer’s clearly hesitant. He knows it’s a bad idea.

“Please!” She begs, “I just- I have so many ideas of how you can go about this. Let me brainstorm, get back to you, and if I’m too over-the-top you can tell me no and we’ll pretend it never happened!”

He takes a deep breath. Yes, Garcia is the definition of over-the-top, but that’s one of his favourite things about her. It’s your favourite thing, too. And he did tell Morgan he had big plans. Anything involving Garcia is a big plan with big payoff.

“This is between us.”

“I’ll take it to the grave. Unless you realise how amazing my ideas are and use one to tell Y/N how you feel and then years later I get to commend myself during my maid of honour speech at your wedding.”

She looks ecstatic, hands now together under her jaw as her eyes twinkle. Spencer can’t help but laugh at her eagerness.

+++

The next day, the team returns to Quantico after a semi-successful case. The general mood is good and Morgan invites everyone out for drinks – Spencer declines, but you have your first full conversation since last Friday.

“C’mon, Spence,” Your head rests against the jet seat and you blink sleepily at him, “I feel like I haven’t spoken to you for years!”

Spencer gives you a small smile, “I promised my mom I’d call her tonight. Sorry, Y/N.”

You nod in understanding, “Will you tell her I say hi?”

“Of course. She loves you.”

You grin at eachother, immediately lost in your own world. You’ve missed him more than you realised, and you have no idea what’s going through his head, but you’re happy that you’ve had this – a Spencer Reid smile that makes you feel at home and on top of the world simultaneously.

Spencer has to tear his eyes away before he blurts something stupid, like she’s not the only one that loves you.

+++

“Spencer!” Garcia greets, Cheshire cat grin on her face. “I need to see you in my dungeon, please. Immediately.”

Spencer drops the file he’s holding. Unfortunately, Penelope’s request caught the attention of the whole team.

“What business do you have in the villain’s lair, Reid?” Derek asks. You’ve looked up from your computer, Emily smirking and leaning back in her chair in expectation.

“Uh…”

“Important nerd business. Go away.” Garcia says, eyes narrow as she tugs Spencer’s hand. He’s whisked away from any further questioning, leaving the befuddled team behind.

He isn’t sure what to expect when he stumbles into Penelope’s second home, but the display in front of him explains why he overheard a conversation about missing evidence boards earlier. Penelope’s obviously been using the new printer in her cave to her advantage – there’s at least twenty different pictures printed out on one board titled “date ideas”, then the board on the right has a picture of Spencer and you in the centre with a perfectly drawn heart around it. Under and around that is a mixture of love quotes, including song lyrics and quotes directly from romantic movies. He notices “The Parliament of Fowls” on there – Garcia remembers that he mentioned it’s considered the first Valentines poem?

“Whoa,” Is all he can say.

“I know it’s a little intense,” Garcia squirms, “But! I started scrolling through Pinterest and couldn’t stop. I don’t know what came over me, maybe some type of love deity, but I started thinking about you and Y/N in a classic love film in, like, black and white and I…”

She’s out of breath from animatedly explaining.

Spencer laughs through his nose, almost a scoff, but he’s impressed. He shouldn’t have expected anything else from the Penelope Garcia.

As Spencer wanders towards the first board, Garcia follows him like a shadow, “My personal favourite is-“ She points to a picture of chocolate fondue with faceless people in very little clothing, “-this one.”

Spencer awkwardly clears his throat when he begins to think of you and him like that.

“A little much for your declaration of love, though, I get it,” Garcia nods.

He scans the board – heart speeding up when he moves from idea to idea and picturing you and him in each one. He can’t help but think no, that one would be good for our anniversary – ah, she’d love to do that one for her birthday.

“What’re you thinking?” Garcia asks quietly. She knows his brain is whirring like her computer drive, so she approaches him gently.

“This one.” He says. “Where should we do it?”

Garcia grins behind him. The one he’s referring to shows a dinner table set up outside, brown wooded table with white wooden chairs opposite eachother. There’s flowers at the centre, a bottle of wine already poured in each glass in front of a basket of cookies, and the area around is shrouded by shrubbery, fairy lights hanging delicately from every-which-way.

It’s perfect. You love fairy lights, Spencer loves cookies, and the set-up looks private enough for Spencer to feel confident when he empties his heart and soul to you.

“The roof.” Garcia says wistfully.

“We have access to that?”

“Yes.” They both know they don’t. “Leave it to me. Oh… one more thing.” She adds, hesitantly, “Can Morgan help? I’m a lot of things, including emotionally strong and your love guru, but physically I’m gonna need some assistance.”

Spencer doesn’t even need to agree – Morgan’s gonna involve himself no matter what.

+++

Five o’clock is quickly approaching and you’re slumped over your desk, lost in your work. You need to be lost in it, because ever since Garcia released Spencer from her office right after lunch he’s been sneaking glances at you (he’s not sneaky) and has made several attempts to approach you but decided against it, sharply turning and pretending he meant to go another way instead.

You are beyond confused. You assume it’s to do with the girl he’s been trying to get over – you hope he’s been trying to build the confidence to tell you exactly what happened and maybe, you really hope, he’ll invite you over for the weekend so you can slip back into your old routine.

“Psst.”

You assume they’re not trying to get your attention, so you don’t move.

“Psst!”

You still don’t move.

“Y/N!”

Your head snaps up to Spencer leaning over the divider between your desks. He looks alarmed – which is odd, given he’s the one who called you – and he opens and closes his mouth a few times before he finally speaks.

“Are you busy tonight?” He sits back and, if he wasn’t so goddamn tall, all you’d be able to see would be his eyes. His added height means you can see his eyes and his nose. You wanna kiss it.

You smile – this is an olive branch, “I am completely available for whatever it is you might need.”

You sound incredibly eager, which you are. You miss him.

His cheeks move upwards, a smile, “Can I talk to you, later, on the roof? Uh-“ He clears his throat, “-I need to tell you something.”

You raise an eyebrow, “You’re not gonna push me off, right?”

“No,” He laughs.

“Promise me.”

Now he guffaws, “I would never, Y/N!”

“Promise me, Reid!”

“Alright, alright! I promise!” He’s jokingly raising his hands in a form of surrender.

You give him another smile and turn back to your work. You feel at ease, now, thinking he’s finally gonna tell you what happened on the weekend – finally you’ll be able to help him and go back to normal.

Spencer, on the other hand, is the exact opposite of ease. He’s about to pour his heart out to you.

He takes a deep breath and looks back to his computer, which is open on a tab titled “How to Tell Someone You Like Them.”

Step 3: Be Confident.

Spencer opens a new tab and searches, “How to be confident.”

+++

Garcia hacks into Spencer’s computer to open a document and type that the roof is ready. She wishes him luck, tells him she loves him, and calls dibs on being the godmother of your future children. As if she doesn’t have enough godchildren as it is.

He clears his throat and your head snaps towards him. You’ve been done for a while, playing Tetris on your phone, waiting for Spencer to take you to the roof where he swears he won’t kill you – you’re not entirely convinced.

“Um-“ He scratches his neck, “You ready to go?”

You nod and give him a weak smile in hopes it gives him some type of reassurance.

“Whatever happened, it’s okay, Spence.”

All he does is nod in return, gathering his coat and bag. He doesn’t really register what you say, or he would’ve been very confused.

You follow him up to the roof. The elevator ride is silent and Spencer is jittery; his hands twitch and tap against his legs, he’s bouncing on his toes and he keeps looking at you through the corner of his eye. You’ve taken several deep breaths to calm your racing heart – you hate heights, and this is the closest you’ve been to Spencer in a week. This will be the longest conversation you’ve had with him in a week, too.

The second the doors open, Spencer leaps in front of you.

“Wait!”

You jump back in surprise, “What? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Completely fine. Just… when we get there, let me explain first, okay? Before you say anything.” He’s pleading, as if you’ve already told him no. You look at him with furrowed brows and mumble an ‘okay’.

You’re visibly confused as you trek up the flight of stairs to the roof. Spencer pushes open the fire door and the first thing you notice is how bright the roof is – you always assumed it’d be dark, little light, especially at night like this.

Wait.

There’s fairy lights… everywhere. You’re pretty sure this isn’t the norm for the FBI roof.

Spencer is equally as awed at what he sees before him - it’s exactly the photo he saw in Garcia’s cave brought to life, but he’s too distracted by you to fully appreciate it. You look like a child on Christmas; eyes wide, pupils blown, mouth slightly agape. You’re gorgeous.

“What…is this, Spence?” You wonder, noticing the set table, fingers grazing the roses that sit in a vase in the middle. They’re fresh and smell wonderful.

He stands a little behind you, fiddling with his hands, and clears his throat, “Would you like to take a seat?”

You do. When he finally sits, he pours you a glass of wine and you immediately take an anxious sip. Although Rossi is a big fan of wine, you rarely take interest in it only when Spencer’s involved. You’ve come to associate wine with him – a smile peeks out from your glass as you stare at the man opposite you.

“I need to get something off my chest. But there’s cookies, if you want one,” He picks one up from his plate, breaking it in half and giving it to you. He’s stalling, but you seem to take the bait and bite into it.

“Are these from the bakery two blocks away?”

“Yeah,” He replies, but he isn’t really paying attention. He doesn’t know where to begin.

You wait patiently for him to open up. You’re still unsure of what to make of all of this – the beautiful setting, the wine, the flowers, the lights. God, the lights are dazzling in the Virginia night sky. You need context, and you need it now.

“Spence-“

“Listen.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, I just…” He trails off, “I need to say what I need to say before I back out again.”

You fold your hands in your lap. You’re ready for whatever’s to come.

“Do you know how long we’ve known eachother?” He asks. His head tilts like a puppy.

“Nearly five years. Our friendaversary is coming up, you know.”

You realise, then, that this must be a celebration for that – that explains the… typically romantic setting. Before you can open your mouth to ask if that what’s this is, Spencer speaks.

“Four years, three-hundred and sixty days. That’s how long we’ve known eachother.”

“If we were dating, we would’ve been my longest relationship the second we passed a year.”

You don’t know why you said it, but it flusters him. He has to pause to take a breath and collect his thoughts.

“I’ve been in love with you for four years and three hundred and fifty-eight days, Y/N.”

It’s silent as you process and he figures out how to continue.

“I knew you were special when you were introduced to us. Hotch already had such a soft spot for you, and you had this way about you that made us all fall in love instantly. I remember Garcia did a background check the second she found out your name and she said you remind her of me and I… that freaked me out, to be honest. I thought you’d try to replace me.” He huffs a laugh, but can’t bring himself to look you in the eye, “I realised I was in love with you when you drunkenly defended me. Do you remember that?” His eyes flicker to yours for half a second – you’re wide-eyed, “You’d known me for two days at that point, but we’d already done a case together so we were celebrating. And these guys at the bar were whispering about me, acting like I couldn’t hear them, and the second you realised what was happening you stood up, stormed towards them and gave them a piece of your mind. It was incredible.

“You barely knew me, at least personally, but you thought so highly of me you scolded a group of drunk bodybuilders without a second thought. You made them apologise – it was hysterical watching someone half their size force them into submission like that – and when you were done you asked if I wanted to leave and go get ice cream. We couldn’t, cause you vomited on the way there, but I knew in that moment I loved you and I feel so hard, so quickly, I didn’t know what to do. And you never… you never indicated you thought of me as anything other than a friend so I didn’t try. Then you dated Greg who, in my opinion, sucked on his best days, and you encouraged me to date Abigail and I…”

He’s run out of breath and of things to say.

“I just love you, Y/N. I’m in love with you.” He adds, “I hope that’s okay.”

He finally looks at you, then. You’re just staring and he panics when he can’t make out what you’re feeling. He’s always been able to read you, you’ve always hated the saying that eyes are the windows to the soul because your eyes are always your tell, but now they’re… glassy.

You’re crying.

“Spencer…” You gasp, throat tight.

“It’s okay.” Spencer gives a tight-lipped smile. He knows what’s coming. He should’ve expected it. He has been expecting it.

“I love you too, Spence.”

Spencer chokes on air. He takes a gulp of wine.

You give him a teary smile in disbelief, “I’ve always loved you, Spence. I thought you knew that – I thought that big brain of yours knew exactly how I felt and… you didn’t do anything about it so I thought you didn’t feel the same. Spencer…”

He slowly moves a hand to place it palm-up on the table. Immediately you place your hand in his, your grip tight as you lovingly stare at him. This feels unreal.

“I’m in love with you too, you idiot.” You half laugh, half cry, “If you’ve really loved me this long, we’ve wasted so much time! God, we’re both idiots.”

Spencer’s crying too, now, and he starts laughing with you.

You’re two idiots in love, sitting opposite eachother on the roof of your place of work in a dream-like surrounding filled with fairy lights and flowers, and you could’ve been doing this for years.

Spencer sniffles, looking at you through his wet eyelashes, “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

“If I say yes, will I get more dates like this?” You tease.

“Well, Garcia has a whole evidence board of date ideas she stole from Pinterest. We have enough ideas to last a lifetime.” He giggles.

“Penny was in on this?!”

Spencer gives a heh, “This is all thanks to her, so yeah.”

“She’s always had our backs.”

“She’s also now going to be convinced she’s cupid.”

You laugh again, and can’t help yourself when you lean across the table, still gripping Spencer’s hand, and letting your lips fall on his. Spencer leans into you, lips moving against yours as you both try to suppress grins.

You pull back slightly, Spencer’s lips following you, and whisper, “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

He kisses you again. And again. And again, just cause he can.

Big plan, big payoff. You’re worth every little stress and more.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #mine #garcia is watching everything through the security cameras btw #you think she'd do all this and NOT watch her hard work flourish?#think AGAIN

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little-lemon-lattes · 3 years

Text

The Scheme

🌛Zelda Spellman x fem! reader

—Word count: 1.9k

— Triggers: Mention of murder and burning in a non-violent context

— Summary: We have part 2 to The Set Up! You and Zelda spend a blissful day together since kissing the night before, and make the most of being together before the mortuary fills with life- and typical Spellman scheming- again!

You were on Cloud-fucking-9.

The previous evening, you and Zelda had kissed. It had been truly extraordinary, even better than the few times you had allowed your mind to indulge in that kind of imagery concerning her. You had never felt that good with anyone before; well, minding that you had neither felt for anyone like that of which you had been trying to cover for the astonishing woman.

She currently lay in the grass next to you, cheek resting tentatively on your belly, as you both just watched each other in comfortable silence. Gosh, kissing Zelda had felt SO good that it had been hard to stop at just one. Like now. Her stunningly bright and beautiful green eyes were boring into yours, but you really couldn’t tell if she was trying to send you a signal or was just unwittingly that gorgeous on the daily. Probably the latter. You also had to remind yourself that, EVEN though you two already lived under the same roof, you would take things one step at a time together. The last 24 hours with Zelda had been like a dream, and the Spellman mortuary had a new air to it now that you knew where you stood.

That morning, you had woken just before dawn (which was much earlier than you preferred), likely still on a high from the feel of Zelda’s lips. Rather than lay there attempting to force yourself back to sleep, you rose from your pillow. Perhaps it was your always-lingering insecurity pulling some strings, but it suddenly seemed desperately important to you- then and there at 4:56am- that you find a way of proving to Zelda that she hadn’t made the wrong choice opening up to you the night before. Just one more bonus of Hilda’s disappearance that weekend being that the kitchen was inevitably free, within a few minutes you had decided to make a spot of breakfast to share. You would never admit it out loud, but you were also buzzing to showcase your culinary ability; of which had been somewhat hindered by the unspoken acknowledgement that Hilda was the kitchen witch of the house.

With that, you were out of bed and clothed in a black turtleneck and mom jeans, as you put the finishing touches on a French braid: all by 5:15. THe next two hours flew by as you whipped up black coffee, almond cake, black sausage, eggs, salmon, bagels, mushroom, and tomato. You were just laying out bloody-fleshed plums and yoghurt when you heard gentle footsteps on the landing above you. Smiling softly, you stopped to admire as the woman padded down the stairs, wrapped in a silky black robe and wiping bits of sleep from her eyes. She stopped dead as she spotted the food on the table, hand still raised to her eye.

“Surprise...?” you peeped.

Zelda’s hand flopped to her side as she tilted her head adorably, treating you to a giddy smile. And you were hopeless to try not to smile right back. That there was enough to have made the last two hours worth it. “

“What’s all this, y/n?”

“I, uh... breakfast?”

Zelda couldn’t help smiling a little more at the cute way you had made it seem like a question. “I see that,” she laughed, “but why?”

You forced an expression of mock pain onto your face.

“I am hurt, Spellman, hurt! Does there have to be a reason?”

All she did was raise her eyebrows in disbelief. You supposed it was probably best to build any chance you had together on honesty.

“Okay, FINE. I just... wanted to show you that last night wasn’t a mistake, in case you were having any doubts.”

Zelda trotted, cat-like, down from her post against the railing, and came to rest just half a metre in front of you.

“Why, there was absolutely nothing of the sort. I hardly slept a wink all night; your lips have something of a memorable feel to them, if I am honest.”

And this time, it was her that closed the space between you, snaking her arms around your waist to pull you closer. One long peck later, the bubblegum-pink shade of your cheeks matched hers in perfect unison, as if in competition.

Breakfast was sweet and long, spent thigh to thigh next to each other, chatting about all the things you had been too afraid to ask each other until that point.

The rest of the day was passed laying next to one another in the winter sunshine, beneath an age-old willow tree. After what felt like just minutes since you had arrived (but had really been hours), you pointed to the sky with the hand that wasn’t clasping Zelda’s.

“Look, the sun!”

You received a lazy “hmmm” in response. Twisting to face her on your left, you couldn’t fight your sigh of content. The High Priestess was laying with her eyes closed in utter bliss, the final rays of Sunday’s sunshine dancing across those glorious lashes.

“It’s setting, Zelda. Everyone will be back soon.” you murmured to her. It was as if you had thrown a bucket of ice over her. Cloud 9 disappeared with the snapping open of her eyes. The soft expression that had occupied her visage all day visibly hardened into her more familiar, stoic one. She leapt to her feet, snatching up the open novel beside her and swinging out her hand to you with force. Time and Space closed in around you the moment you took it, and, the next thing you knew, the two of you were outside the mortuary once more.

You turned to her sharply.

“What was that about?” you demanded. Standing silent for a moment, Zelda’s ears visibly pricked. After a few more moments, she seemed appeased, and swivelled to you. Her shoulders were tense, and you took note of her fingernails digging into her palm.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I didn’t mean to be so abrupt. I just... I am enthused about where you and I are headed, y/n, and I’m terrified that others may not share my enthusiasm. I want to enjoy things as they are at present for a while longer, before having to think about who needs to be involved in our business.”

It was understandable, you supposed, and admittedly: there was a certain appeal to keeping things 007-style, like that fantastic mortal film. You relaxed a bit, and instantly felt awful for raising your voice at her.

You reached for the woman’s shoulder.

“You’re right, Zelds. I understand.”

She looked unconvinced.

“Are you sure? You have every right to want to murder me right now, if you so wished. Although, only if you were to bury me in the Cain pit...” she added as an afterthought.

You had to giggle at that one.

“You’re safe for now, Zelda,” you teased, “now, come on! I need to find a good hiding spot for scaring the BANSHEES out of them when they get back!”

Hilda, Sabrina, and Ambrose literally stomped their feet in sheer disappointment when they arrived back at the house and hadn’t caught the pair of you locked in some form of intimate embrace.

“Aw man! What will I tell my friends?! I had Roz totally excited about y/n finally getting some action... Like, she seriously admitted that she had this big crush on her when she first met her; whiiiiich definitely earned a few looks from Harvey, to say the least. The take-away from it all is that we now know exactly how fragile that guy’s ego is, YIKES, is all I can say.”

All the while, Ambrose was muttering a consistent string of “fuck”s under his breath, and Hilda was deciding whether to scald Sabrina’s ass to Hades and back.

“Sabrina!” her aunt admonished in disbelief, “how could you be so careless?! If any of this gets back to your aunt Zelda, we should consider ourselves excommunicated from her presence for good!”

All of them fought a cringe. Sabrina looked a bit sheepish.

Hilda turned to Ambrose.

“And what about you, mister? What’s with the constant profanities?”

Ambrose took a step back from his aunt, nobody was sure whether consciously or not. “Erm...hm. Yes. Well. I-” his sputtering was resembling a car trying to start up. Ambrose’s eyes suddenly seemed unable to reach past the witches’ knees.

“-um. Damn. Hecate, yes, I have... just lost a particularly large sum of money to one Dorian Gray.”

Hilda’s eyes were ready to pop out of her head. “I was so unequivocally certain that our plan would work! Now where I am supposed to come up with $1000?!”

He was a little manic. The only one of the three who seemed somewhat happy about Ambrose’s situation was Sabrina, sticking a finger at him. “HA! Now that makes what I did so much better!”

Her plum-coloured lips parted with glee, and without warning, her and her travel bag had disappeared. Ambrose made a furious mental note to pour formaldehyde in her evening tea for leaving him here alone. When he had finally built up the courage to look his otherwise cheery aunt in the eyes again, a flash of fear struck him at the murderous look in hers. A low growl exited her throat.

“Well,” she snapped, “I suppose there will be no more silly little attempts on our part to play Cupid.”

As quickly as it had started, her anger dissipated, and was replaced by a certain sadness. Her mouth raised just a fraction, into a tired little smile.

“ ’just thought that Zelds could do with something nice for once. We failed. It didn’t work.”

With that, she picked up her carpet bag and shuffled off up the stairs. Ambrose watched her go, now a lone silhouette in the entrance of their home.

Or so he thought. You waited until Ambrose had moodily trudged down to the embalming room before emerging from your spot in the broom closet. Sniffling a little from all the dust- those things hadn’t been flown for years, SO old fashioned- you felt a mix of emotion at what you had just heard. You hadn’t intended on becoming an audience to some type of scheme, and especially not one of which involved you.

At first, there was embarrassment. You hadn’t realised that your feelings were apparently so obvious! Paired with the fact that Zelda’s must have been too in order to warrant such a matchmaking scheme; along with that you had truly thought that you had done a superb job at keeping it all under wraps, you were left feeling a bit stupid. But then came the funny side of it all, imagining Hilda, Ambrose, and Sabrina sneaking about like the Pink Panther and holding secret meetings about your love life. And finally came the warmth, the realisation of exactly how much the Spellmans had grown to care for you- so much that they trusted you to love Zelda as much as they did.

The whole situation was entirely too much of an opportunity to just leave alone. Grinning with total delight and schemes cooking of your own, you rematerialised in Zelda’s study at the Academy. The loud CRACK that accompanied that particular piece of magic made the woman flinch. Her brow crinkled at the sight of you in front of her great oaken desk. She was a little taken aback, and (it delighted you even more) flustered to see you there.

“Y/n?”

“Zelda. I NEED to tell you what I just heard!”

A game was now afoot.

And your opponents weren’t finished yet either.

#zelda spellman #zelda spellman x reader #caos #Sabrina #lgbt #fanfic #hilda spellman #sabrina spellman #ambrose spellman #chilling adventures of sabrina #miranda otto #caos imagine #wlw #caos fanfiction #your pov

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cybernaght · 3 years

Text

Guardian rewatch: episode 12

We start the episode in the Snake Tribe territory, which is supposedly still somewhere within the confines of the Dragon City. It is baffling that it took citizens of this place so long to figure out that there are mysterious beings and demi-humans living among them, it truly is.

While the scene is mostly centred around the conflict between Zhu Hong and her tribe, and the ominous warning of the war brewing, it also does a really lovely joy of showcasing, yet again, the fierce loyalty not only she, but Guo Changcheng have to the SID. This boy remains the most precious muffin of a human.

At the SID, Sang Zan is learning to write under a loving watchful eye Wang Zheng. The once fierce and ruthless warlord is now the softest archivist. On a separate note, I am not sure how good of an archivist he might be considering that he is evidently illiterate.

Anyway, it’s heart-warming to see those two happy together. I sure hope nothing terrible happens to them in the future.

Our actual power couple, on the other hand, have done a full reversal into the relationship they had in the beginning; only it’s somehow even worse now. Shen Wei, who properly messed his cover up during the last adventure, has his guard up as he is being questioned in relation to a case. Zhao Yunlan, who grew to see this man as a friend and partner, is no longer amused by secrets, nor intrigued by them. He is now furious at their existence, upset at what he must perceive as lack of trust on Shen Wei’s part.

Shen Wei serves Zhao Yunlan a cup of tea with a side order of avoidance, hoping that by ignoring the subject of himself it will go away.

When in the previous scenes together they were always across the desk from each other, or next to each other, leaning in closely, body language open, there is now a rift between them. It’s awkward; neither of the men want to be here, but their needs are the opposite to each other, and neither of them are willing to back down.

Shen Wei goes on explaining in great detail his connection to the case and to the victim, despite Zhao Yunlan’s attempt to change the subject with a very unsubtle, “your body surely recovered fast”. The latter then proceeds to stubbornly talk about Shen Wei’s archaic ways, which earns him an incredulous “Are you even listening to me?” from the professor. The incredulity is wonderfully misjudged, considering the circumstances.

“I only want to hear you tell the truth”

We rarely see Zhao Yunlan open and vulnerable. I can’t off the top of my head remember him ever being open and vulnerable with anyone who is not Shen Wei. Zhao Yunlan operates on false bravado, aggressive charm, weaponised smiles. But with this man, he purposefully lowers his guard. I trust you, he seems to say, and I always have. Why can you not trust me?

Shen Wei gulps.

He then continues talking about the case, which is the last straw for Zhao Yunlan, who explodes, smacking his palm hard on the desk.

Shen Wei startles, looking hurt. I just… don’t understand what he was expecting. Once again, this is a man who, from Shen Wei’s perspective, has unmasked him on the first day they met. This is a man who has been poking and prodding him for weeks. And I get that it is hurtful when someone you care about does not respect your boundaries, I do, but truly honestly hoping that the same someone will just accept the relationship terms that have never even been discussed is a little bit unrealistic, especially when Shen Wei is not divulging anything.

Shen Wei is bad at communicating. Which is, I suppose, not news to anyone.

“It seems that Chief Zhao still hasn’t given up on suspecting me.”

“Not suspicion, but lack of understanding.”

Zhao Yunlan is trying very hard. He is trying to close the rift between them: by pulling the chair over next to Shen Wei’s and settling down on it, by reminding Shen Wei how much they have been through together, by telling the man that he is being perplexing. Shen Wei, on the other hand, has raised his barriers all the way back up, smoothly explaining that he is just a normal man who ends up being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He has got a polite smile playing on his lips, his mask fully in place.

Zhao Yunlan does not even pretend to have believed Shen Wei, he gives up on the conversation with a dejected “Fine, forget it.”

He makes his excuses and pulls his phone out to make a call to Wang Zheng to check up on the rest of the team. Just as that happens, the SID gets attacked by the magical sound waves, and Zhao Yunlan sprints into action.

Shen Wei calls after him, and then asks to come with. Considering they have just spent some very awkward time together, more or less fighting about Shen Wei lying an awful lot, Zhao Yunlan would be well within his moral rights to reject help. He doesn’t, however. Even now, the trust he has in Shen Wei - in his good intentions, in his friendship - is unwavering.

At the SID offices, Tan Xiao is using his sound device to get past the two ghosts energy beings, and break through the safety measures protecting the Hallows. In other news, apart from being susceptible from curses or poisons slipped through the letter box, the SID HQ also does not have anything that might stop a human from breaking into it. How those people survived for this long is a mystery.

A point of complete diversion from me: I am currency watching a contemporary drama entitled To Dear Myself. It’s about young professionals in Shanghai who get their lives broken in about ten different ways; Zhu Yilong’s the leading man; there will definitely be a lengthy think-piece on it here. But the reason I’m bringing that up here is that it also has Chen Weidong, the actor who plays Tan Xiao, as a contextually neurodivergent rich boyfriend of one of the protagonists.

It’s kind of surreal seeing him here; there’s only been about two years between the filming of those two shows, but he looks so different. Oh, and, he is very good as well.

Back in the world of Guardian, we see Sang Zan shaking off the sound attack and attempting to stop Tan Xiao. He does not succeed as such, but manages to pull a string which activates the Indiana Jones-style set-up with loaded crossbows. It’s very silly; I kind of love it.

While evading the arrows, Sang Zan flings the Awl up in the air, Zhao Yunlan catches it. How close is the University to SID? He took about five minutes to get here! The chief gets a barrage of premonitions which include Zhu Hong knocked out in the future, as well as in the present, and a little sneak-peak into the Disaster Wedding incident.

He then proceeds to pass out into Shen Wei’s slow motion embrace.

There is nothing wrong with this. This is beautiful.

Shen Wei checks on Yunlan briefly, but Tan Xiao goes on the offensive, which deserves him: a) a shot of dark energy right into his chest, which flings him across the space, b) the meanest of Hei Pao Shi’s death glares. This is the moment Tan Xiao earns an uncharacteristically rough treatment he’s going to get at the end of this episode.

She Wei carefully places unconscious Zhao Yunlan next to the wall, calling out his name. We can only presume that the lab has a second exit, as Tan Xiao manages to get away despite the two men currently being more or less in the doorway.

An indeterminate amount of time passes, and Zhao Yunlan wakes on the sofa, Da Qing in human form miaowing at him, his team and Shen Wei nearby. The team goes into a full debrief mode: Wang Zheng reports that she is generally able to repel sound waves, but was taken by surprise; Da Qing and Lin Jin speculate about the shield being affected by the waves as well, since an apparent Undergrounder managed to get through it.

Zhao Yunlan notes that the sound waves ability seems to be doubled, and used for both attack and suggestion. He notes that the powers can be numerous, while grinning conspiratorially at Shen Wei.

Shen Wei quietly despairs. He probably genuinely thought that this conversation was truly over. He takes a few seconds to come to terms with Zhao Yunlan actually teasing him about him maybe being an Undergrounder, before composing himself and stating that compound abilities don’t actually exist.

Da Qing, who doesn’t necessarily pick up what this conversation really is about, but does note that *something* is up with those two, comes to his own conclusions, asking Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan to stop flirting.

Lin Jing comes up up with this.

“Comrades!”

Thank you, Viki subbers, for notifying the audience that the word “Comrade” is also a slang for “gay”.

Lin Jing springs to his feet, saying that he needs a sample test of a human consciousness - presumably to create that clever brain chip of him which would make one immune to the wound wave powers. Zhao Yunlan very theatrically feigns a big scary headache to see whether Shen Wei would volunteer to take the test in his stead to spare him the pain. It’s an underhand move, but it works nonetheless.

We briefly return to the Snake Tribe, or, more specifically to Zhu Hong’s Fourth Uncle asking whether she is still mad at him, while she is forcibly restrained and bound to a pillar. What is it with this show and binding people to pillars? In reality, the one bound to a pillar is actually Guo Changcheng, which the Fourth Uncle doesn’t pick up on even through Xiao Guo is not actually wearing the clothes Zhu Hong arrived in. Zhu Hong springs the trap, plies her uncle with the same wine, and then goes to regroup with the others, leaving Xiao Guo behind for the time being, because, I guess, it makes more sense for Zhu Hong to be alone when she gets hypnotised later in the episode.

Honestly, it’s easier to not think about too much about this scene, so let’s return to the main characters.

Lin Jing is just finishing the experiment on Shen Wei, who is lying on the lab bed in his undershirt, seemingly asleep. I would assume that Shen Wei has gone into some kind of a meditative trance to try and affect the way his own brain works and emulate the human activity. He does not stir when Zhao Yunlan walks over, and call him.

“Shen Wei? Professor Shen?”

Having received no response, Zhao Yunlan leans in to…

... Count this man’s eye lashes? Admire the effects of his skincare routine?

Oh, no, sorry. Here’s the excuse.

Thank you, Guardian, for this moment.

As Shen Wei wakes up and rises, he lets Zhao Yunlan know in no uncertain terms that he did see through his ruse.

“You don’t have a headache anymore?”

This snaps Yunlan out of gazing at Shen Wei with barely contained lust to pretend that his head indeed still hurts. Considering that Shen Wei does not look concerned, and knowing that Zhao Yunlan’s health and well-being is his number one priority in life, we can conclude that he did know that a headache was just an excuse to get Shen Wei out of his shirt check Shen Wei’s brain activity. Our professor collects his things and leaves with a brief goodbye.

Lin Jing is staring at the readings, checking that the computer has worked properly. Noticing that something is wrong, Zhao Yunlan asks, “Did you see live pornography in his head or something?” Not that I blame his for his mind being the gutter, but also, wow Zhao Yunlan’s mind is in the gutter.

Lin Jing dismisses the idea of mind reading as a whole, and shares his findings that Shen Wei’s consciousness was unwavering, like a dead man’s. Unfortunately for Shen Wei, whatever it was that he did to appear human has not worked well at all.

Zhao Yunlan smirks.

Outside of the SID building, Shen Wei is still frozen in place, contemplating his future actions as he is thumping the Pendant of Pining.

“Should I tell him after all?”

Yes, Shen Wei, you should.

“If I tell him, will that put him in danger?”

I am afraid the the good ship Zhao Yunlan Being In Danger sailed the day Zhao Yunlan became Lord Guardian and Chief of the SID.

(Am I again getting unreasonably frustrated with a fictional character of a show that aired several years ago? You bet I am.)

What follows in the episode is a brief interlude of Zhu Jiu being horrible to Tan Xiao, and making inappropriate comments about him and Zheng Yi. We also learn some of Tan Xiao’s backstory, which expands on his character and explains that the reasons he felt so protective of the little girl was because she reminded him of a sister he once had.

Back to SID offices.

Zhao Yunlan is doodling Shen Wei and the Envoy as he tries to reconcile the two in his mind.

It does sound like he still has doubts that the two are the same person, despite the overwhelming pile of evidence that made him draw to this conclusion in the first place. If anything, it is quite surprising that it took him this long to figure out that the enigmatic mysterious handsome professor and the enigmatic mysterious handsome Envoy are the same person. It is also curious that he seems to think the Envoy is much taller.

Da Qing watches his friend’s mental agony in absolute bewilderment.

Very shortly, they will get a ping for the sound wave energy from somewhere close to Zhu Hong’s home and rush to the scene to find that Zhu Hong has, indeed, been put under mind control, as she attacks Chu Shuzhi.

Here’s another piece of fight choreography for me to tear into.

Okay, good things first. I really like that the actors are doing their own fighting. Jiang Mingyang is generally looking good in combat, and his reactions continue to be on point. Gao Yuer is very flexible, and her kicks are great.

The fight itself however, is another example of the time/money constraints.

The opening punch is… fine. They do lock arms for a split second, which indicates that Zhu Hong properly swung that in rather than stopping the energy, but they are also out of distance, so safety-wise that’s okay-ish, and at full speed it looks alright . But the way Lao Chu is sticking his thumb out and then wraps that around Zhu Hong’s wrist just gave a full body shudder. This is how one gets they thumb dislocated (which I have never done myself, but I hear is very painful) and/or gives their partner a nasty bruise. For anyone out there who needs to hear this, if you ever perform a fight, please tuck your thumbs in line with your fingers and avoid hurting yourself and others. Doing otherwise adds nothing apart from a small but completely avoidable risk of injury.

Then there is this kick-punch-kick combination.

The three moves in isolation are good, but they don’t flow together, at all. I think, and this is pure speculation, that the sweeping punch in the middle was actually meant to follow the previous two moves, then the kick would come next, leading into Chu Shuzhi restraining Zhu Hong. That first kick (which is the same as the third kick, shot from a different angle) just does not belong there as a follow-up to the two punches. I can speculate that it was cut there because it looked cool - which it does - but it also sacrifices any hope this fight had for coherent storytelling.

Then there is a capture and a swivel, very similar to the finishing move used in Zhu Jiu/Sang Zan fight in episode 11. Zhu Hong gets pressed against the tree, and the team shows up to sedate her and bring her back to the headquarters.

Tan Xiao and Zheng Yi watch this scene unfold at a distance, as Zhao Yunlan appears behind them. The SID chief calmly lets Tan Xiao know that he’s been abandoned by Zhu Jiu, and the other man offers no resistance to being captured.

The narrative brings us to the boxing ring, introducing us to it as Zhu Jiu’s energy farm, and then briefly cuts to SID, where Chu Shuzhi realises that they have not retrieved Guo Changcheng. The puppet master springs into action, leaving Lin Jing to wonder since when his friend is so protective of the rookie. If he paid attention, he would have noticed that Chu Shuzhi was protective of the rookie since day one.

We then move to the interrogation of Tan Xiao, which is happening in the hospital set, with Zheng Yi tucked into the hospital bed, even through it was never established that she would need medical attention, and, considering that she would have no issues walking out of the hospital very shortly, she clearly does not. Here, we see some more flashbacks, detailing Tan Xiao and the girl’s backstory, the abuse she suffered, and the bond the two forged. The young man is admitting to all the crimes he had not committed to protect her, and Zhao Yunlan is honestly moved. He sounds almost regretful when he lets Tan Xiao know that he will still be persecuted for his crimes.

Right on cue, Hei Pao Shi portals in.

Zhao Yunlan greets him with a customary “long time no see”, but the most acknowledgement he receives from Shen Wei is a side-eye which does not even focus on his face.

In fact, the Envoy is doing as much as he can to avoid even turning to Zhao Yunlan. He simply announces his purpose to the room in general and teleports Tan Xiao away. It’s easy to see what he is doing. In Shen Wei’s mind, the less communication he has with Zhao Yunlan as Hei Pao Shi, the better are his chances to separate his two personalities in the eyes of the other man. That said, showing an abrupt and uncharacteristic change of behaviour is the opposite of suspicious.

Even Da Qing notices the change Hei Pao Shi.

“Lao Zhao, what did you do to upset him? You used to do small talk, not anymore?”

Zhao Yunlan smirks, replying that he knows the reason why. He then notices the little girl crying, and goes to comfort her the only way he knows how, with a lollipop. When that does not work, he gestures for Da Qing to leave with him, and returns with a familiar black cat and an adorable “ta-dah”. It’s so sweet it makes my teeth hurt.

As this is going on, Hei Pao Shi is being his glorious over the top avenging self. For one, he is actually floating above Tan Xiao, which I don’t think he ever seen him do before. He then proceeds to throttle the young man, lifting him in the air and throwing him back on the ground.

He does so in order to shake the sound wave equipment out of him, sure, but it is easy to assume that Tan Xiao also brought the Envoy’s wrath onto himself by his misguided attempt to hurt Zhao Yunlan earlier that day. It’s deliciously petty; we know that the best way to earn Shen Wei’s ire is by threatening his companion. And, to be fair, Shen Wei had a bad day: this is as good a way as any to get some of that ancient anger out of his system.

As Hei Pao Shi realises that the man he arrested is a simple human armed with some clever technology, and the real homicidal Undergrounder is the girl he is protecting, so does Zhao Yunlan. Even miles away, even when they are having arguments, their analytical brains still work in sync. And, as plot twists go, this one is neat, albeit not entirely unpredictable.

Unfortunately, realising that the girl is dangerous, brings along a realisation that Zhao Yunlan left his friend in her care. He rushes to the hospital to check on Da Qing, finding the ward empty. If this was Zhu Jiu’s plan all along, it’s a good one: having access to a brainwashed SID member would also spell easy access to the headquarters and the Hallows - which is exactly where Zheng Yi leads Da Qing, taking the Hallows and leaving the Yashou to go into a berserk mode as he imagines or remembers Zhao Yunlan/Kunlun saying “I will abandon you”

Next up, episode 13: The Disaster Wedding.

——

Notes.

Every time Shen Wei lies my brain supplies me with Why You Always Lying song. Every. Single. Time. Which means I sing it a lot around the flat, to my partner’s great chagrin.

Whoooo boy and I thought the Episode 10 recap was the crackiest one I’ve done.

#guardian #recap #rewatch #zhao yunlan #shen wei #now with gifs #sometimes my brain is like this #I'm not sorry

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oficmag · 2 years

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Contributor Spotlight: Taylor

Now that Issue #1 is live, we at OFIC Mag are excited to shine a light on some of the amazing contributors from our inaugural issue. We hope you all love them as much as we do!

Today’s spotlight is on Taylor | @grilledcowheart, who wrote “the sea monster stays in bed all day listening to Long Division” for Issue #1.

Tell us a bit about yourself!

I've been trying to think of how to answer this question for days; my mind completely blanks every time I open up my laptop to stare at it. So I suppose I'll default by just telling you that while putting the finishing touches on my other answers, I was also on Discord encouraging a friend to draw a Pixar character with two penises like a shark.

How did you find fandom?

I first found fandom through the site fanpop.com and the various Powerpuff Girls “fanclubs” that existed there—the site hosted multiple types of fanworks, including fics, and from there I found fanfiction.net, deviantART, and so on. I'd actually been writing fanfic since elementary school—largely crossover fics of the various shows I'd watch on Boomerang (Cartoon Network's "oldies" channel) late at night when I should've been sleeping—but PPG is where I actually developed an awareness of and connection to fandom communities.

What fandom are you in now and what brought you here?

Right now, I'm mostly involved with the fandom for Pixar's Luca. There's a lot I could say about the film and its reception by the queer community, especially in light of everything that's been going on with Disney's support of homophobic politicians and Pixar itself stating that Disney has censored same-sex affection in their films, but we'd honestly be here all day.

Aside from all that, as much as I love the film (and its little sequel short, "Ciao Alberto"), it's yet another story about childhood angst and trauma that leaves just enough room for someone like me to step into and want to push further. Trauma is so abundant in children's media, but obviously there's only so far you can go into it while still being appropriate for children to consume, so fanfiction allows for a more in-depth discussion of these things. There's a good quote by the Biblical scholar David Janzen about trauma theory, wherein he says that the struggle faced by trauma survivors trying to describe their experiences is "situating the trauma within an explanatory narrative so that they can make truth claims about it and explain and make sense of it," and that trauma is "really a gap in narrative rather than narrative itself." I think a lot of my writing—fanfic and ofic—is about trying to reconcile the discrepancy between the narratives I've been given and how I've actually experienced the world.

Also Luca/Alberto is a very cute and gives me serotonin.

What’s your favorite book of all time and what do you love about it?

Naturally, I get asked this and forget every book I've ever read in my life. I think Stephen Mitchell's translation of The Epic of Gilgamesh is definitely up there, though—Gilgamesh is such a fascinating and emotionally resonant story even all these thousands of years later, and Mitchell's poetry helps smooth over some of the inherent awkwardness that comes from translation. Further, because Gilgamesh is obviously situated within a larger mythological context, there are tons of new discoveries, translation nuances, and spin-offs to find, such as the tablets that strongly imply Enkidu and the monster Humbaba knew each other before Gilgamesh went to kill the latter (when I say "daddy," you say "issues!"). One of my earliest attempts at submitting my ofic writing was actually a modern Gilgamesh AU focusing on that connection, which I'd love to come back to and make into a full book one day.

What projects are you working on right now?

Right now, I'm working on revising a fanfic novella, alongside a few other Luca/Alberto short stories and an article on applying creative writing strategies to academic writing. I mostly write short stories, so I tend to cycle through projects very quickly, with a few longer CNF/hybrid projects that gestate in the back of my mind for 1-3 years at a time.

What are your aspirations as a writer, big picture or small?

I had a nearly 400-word response to this typed up initially about how my aspirations for fanfic and ofic differ, how I try to take the crazy things I see going on in the literary fiction and nonfiction spheres and take them back to the Land of Fandom to show others all the cool ways we could be telling our stories—darker, wilder, more “cringe.” A creative writing professor I had in undergrad once said that he assigns dark and experimental fiction because many writers need to see someone else do it first before they can give themselves permission to start letting their fears of “acceptability” go.

Still, it felt like I was gaslighting myself, pretending my work could ever matter.

It reminded me, too, of David Shields’ How Literature Saved My Life, which I read largely while volunteering at a homeless shelter as part of one of my undergrad classes. The most notable memory of that whole experience is watching several white teenagers eagerly discuss the merits (or lack thereof) of the then-recent film adaptation of The Hate U Give while I sat eating with two of the shelter’s clients—a black mother and her child. They never looked in our direction, not even once.

Near the end of the book, Shields cites an interview David Foster Wallace gave shortly after the release of Infinite Jest, wherein he states that “We’re existentially alone on the planet. I can’t know what you’re thinking and feeling and you can’t know what I’m thinking and feeling. And the very best [writing] construct a bridge across that abyss of human loneliness.”

Later, Shields himself says: “Illusion, baby, illusion—whatever the cost.”

If you could give one piece of advice to beginning writers, what would you tell them?

Never let yourself be confined by how a story in your genre is "supposed" to be written. Read outside of your genre! My writing became so much more alive and vibrant after I found creative nonfiction through Amy Fusselman's short but powerful memoir, The Pharmacist's Mate, which is told largely through fragments. Borrow from other genres and forms (mature poets steal, after all). Sure, you might alienate your hypothetical audience, but they might not have liked the more "normal" version, either. The only thing you can guarantee in art-making is that you've honored yourself and the story you want to be telling.

THANK YOU FOR BEING A PART OF THE OFIC FAMILY, TAYLOR! WE’RE SO THRILLED TO SHARE YOUR WORK WITH THE WORLD.

#writeblr #bookblr #issue 1 #spotlight

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esmealux · 3 years

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I'll bite. 13 and 35 look like they might be fun together. 😈

Thank you so much for this fun prompt, Shelly ❤ The opportunities seemed endless, but in the end I went with this. I hope you like it.

Once again, I screwed up at brevity, so this is 1.9K (:

13. Someone does something stupid + 35. 'You wanna bet?' 'Care to wager?'

Never make a bet with the Devil.

A deal, if you must. But do not bet against him.

Not because he’ll take your soul or anything; he won’t even necessarily take your money.

But because he can’t handle it. He can’t. He’ll stop at nothing to win, and when he doesn’t—when he can’t shoot down a bottle of vodka with a slingshot from 400 feet away, or blow a soap bubble with his nose, or fly to Sweden and back in under thirty minutes (the latter he did do, but a drug test showed he’d taken EPO)—he’ll walk around in a pathetic cloud of self-pity, sulking and pouting to an unbearable degree for days on end.

So if you care about the Devil, don’t bet with him. It’s for his own good.

It really is.

And yet-

Chloe picks up the dirty plates from the coffee table as gunshots fire around her. It makes her a little uneasy, how real it sounds through their newly installed surround sound system. One so expensive she doesn’t even want to know.

Their just as overpriced (and unnecessarily big) TV is bathing Lucifer in white-blue light as he stares at the screen intently. He did want to watch the movie with her, but she’s not much of a Weaponizer fan, and she’d like to clean up before she snuggles up next to him on the couch and inevitably falls asleep. As she’s gathered all the dishes in her arms, however, she can’t help but pause and glance at the film for just a second.

‘Yeah, like that could actually happen,’ she snorts, watching the car jump across a considerable gap in a bridge, flip mid-air, and land on all four wheels on the other side. ‘I mean, no one’s ever done that.’

As soon as the words leave her mouth Chloe knows she’s made a mistake.

Lucifer pauses the movie—because God forbid he misses five seconds of a film he’s watched thirty times—before he looks up at her with a lifted eyebrow and a devilish grin.

‘Is that a challenge, Detective?’

Chloe glares at him, her jaw clenching. ‘It’s not possible,’ she states firmly, which is even worse, because now he can only reply with-

‘Care to wager?’

Chloe wants to kick herself.

‘There’s no way in Hell you’re doing that,’ she tells him, nodding towards the paused screen before she heads for the kitchen to start the dishwasher.

‘Why? Because my worried girlfriend won’t let me?’ he calls after her. ‘I’m invulnerable, remember?’

Chloe refills her wine glass, generously, and returns to the living room.

‘No,’ she objects, careful not to spill Pinot Noir on the couch as she settles against Lucifer’s warm, silk-clad side. ‘I just know you’ll never forgive yourself when your beloved Corvette rams into a cliff.’

Lucifer gasps and scoffs. ‘As if I’d ever risk such a sweet beauty like that!’ He plucks the glass out of her hand and takes a sip. ‘And even if I did, she would not, because I would succeed, first try.’

‘First try? Really?’

Chloe grabs the remote and replays the last fifteen seconds. Looking at it a second time, it’s even more ridiculous. The background is so obviously a green screen it’s not even funny, the flip is clearly made using some sort of outdated CGI, and they haven’t even bothered making it look like there’s a real person in the car. Also—Chloe doesn’t remember much from school, but she’s pretty sure the entire stunt defies physics as the car leaps, practically flies over the 150 feet gap, all the while rotating 360 degrees sideways.

‘Maybe third,’ Lucifer admits.

Chloe shakes her head and sighs.

‘I can do it, Detective.’ He looks at her like it’s a threat. ‘And I will.’

Oh, he will definitely try. The determination in his eyes leave no doubt about that. But he can’t possibly copy that stunt with an actual car and an actual gap. There’s just no way. And she shouldn’t spur him on. She really shouldn’t. But the idiot’s gotta learn at some point, and if she’s gonna have to deal with his childish disappointment (and she will), she might as well get something out of it.

‘Fine,’ she shrugs. ‘What are we betting?’

He grins at her, brown eyes twinkling with excitement.

‘If—nay, when I win,’ he answers promptly, and Chloe rolls her eyes, ‘I’ll finally get that thing I’ve always wanted.’

Chloe stares at him, comepletely clueless. If his tone and stupid smirk are anything to go by, it’s not a pet shark he’s talking about.

‘One... re-enactment for another,’ he clarifies slowly, his dark gaze gliding over her body before his eyes flicker to the glass doors leading to their terrace—and their outdoor hot tub.

Chloe fights the urge to roll her eyes again.

‘Okay,’ she agrees, internally reminding herself it doesn’t really matter. She gives him a cocky smile. ‘And when I win?’

Lucifer chuckles as if he finds her adorably naïve. Asshat. Still, he says, ‘You’ll get anything you desire.’

Chloe thinks. There’s not much she desires he wouldn’t give her anyway. She could have him do paperwork for a month, but he’d just mess it up, and she’d have to listen to his complaints about ‘torturous boredom’ and ‘purgatory’. She could also go for something funnier, like have him wear t-shirt and sweats to work for a week. But that would just be cruel, wouldn’t it?

‘I don’t know,’ she tells him, but the words are barely out of her mouth before Trixie’s enthusiastic voice sounds behind them.

‘I might have an idea!’

Lucifer sighs and gives Chloe an unimpressed look before he shifts slightly in his seat to look at her daughter.

‘Alright, but only because your mum lacks creativity like a sober Faulkner.’

Trixie walks around the couch and comes to stand in front of them, a mischievous smile on her face.

‘Please don’t tell me it’s a unicorn on the cheek,’ Lucifer huffs, taking another gulp of Chloe’s wine.

‘It’s not,’ she assures him and holds out her iPad for him to see. It’s a doodle of a small, fluffy goat with pink fur. ‘I was thinking something more… permanent.’ With the hand that’s not holding her tablet, Trixie pats a spot on the left side of her upper chest.

Lucifer slowly removes the wine glass from his lips, and the sheer horror on his face makes Chloe snort with laughter.

He stares at the small, inarguably adorable drawing like it’s a personal insult, glances down at his chest with dread, and looks back to Trixie.

‘You little Devil,’ Lucifer grumbles, but there’s no trace of hostility in his voice. If anything, he sounds a little impressed. He grabs Trixie’s iPad from her outstretched hand and studies the pink kawaii buck for a second, as if he’s seriously considering saying yes to the deal.

Eventually, he sighs. ‘I’m in.’

‘Lucifer-’ Chloe immediately begins to protest. He’s not gonna win this bet, and she knows how downright intolerable he’ll be when he’ll have to get a cute, chubby animal—one that, to him, represents mockery and misconception—tattooed onto his skin. She's tired already, just thinking about all the whining she'd have to deal with.

But it’s too late. Her boyfriend and daughter shake hands, and the deal is settled.

Chloe palms her face.

‘Wait, what do you get if you actually manage to… whatever it is this time?’ Trixie asks, her small hand still clasped in Lucifer’s.

Chloe looks up at him, heat creeping up her cheeks. Their eyes meet shortly before he looks back to her daughter, visibly conflicted.

‘Eh…’

It’s not so much a word as it is a breathy, high-pitched sound, partly stuck in his throat. But it’s answer enough for Trixie.

‘Forget I asked,’ she quickly says, her face scrunched up in disgust. ‘I’ll be in my room.’

She takes her iPad back and leaves them alone on the couch.

‘So, I guess it’s tit or tat, then,’ Lucifer remarks with a chuckle, glancing down at Chloe’s chest.

She snorts and smiles, despite herself.

‘But, I mean-’ He grabs the remote and plays the scene a third time.

He must not see the same utterly absurd and almost comically impossible stunt she (still) sees, because he leans down and whispers in her ear, ‘Better start rehearsing your lines, Detective.’

Chloe shakes her head at him and snuggles closer to his body.

‘You’re lucky I like your mother,’ Lucifer mumbles as the needle pinches ink into his chest.

He’d driven off in a ‘cheap’ Porsche this morning and returned eight hours later, looking like he’d literally been fed to the wolves and with no Porsche.

‘Hey honey,’ she’d greeted him, hiding her smirk behind her cup of tea. ‘How’d it go?’

He’d answered with a grunt, blamed the Germans for making their cars too ‘praktisch’ and the Italians for not making theirs fast enough (he’d controlled for variables) and finally concluded it was all his dad’s fault because He ‘created that pesky gravity’.

Then he’d handed her an ornate, black business card and looked at her as if he’d picked his own casket.

Chloe had bit her cheek and hugged him before driving all three of them to the high-end tattoo parlour he’d requested.

‘You okay there?’ she asks him, letting him grip her hand tighter. The fact that he isn’t feeling any actual pain—‘any physical pain, Detective!’—makes his wincing all the more pathetic. Still, she feels a little bad for him.

‘No.’ He bends his neck to peer down at his chest, and pouts. ‘I’m not.’

Trixie grins beside him. ‘I think it looks cool!’

‘Of course, you do. You’re a twelve-year-old girl.’

The smile on Trix’ face turns into a smirk. ‘A twelve-year-old who girl you lost a bet to.’

Sighing deeply, Lucifer turns his head to scowl at her like she’s his annoying little sister and not the stepdaughter he’d go to the ends of the universe for.

‘It’ll be gone in a few months,’ Chloe reminds him, earning her a funny look from the tattoo artist.

The muscle in Lucifer’s jaw ticks. ‘It’s not even finished yet and I already hate it more than I ever did my bloody wings! How am I supposed to endure this… horned cotton candy for months?’

Chloe takes a deep breath. She brought this on herself. She knew she shouldn’t have made that bet with him. She knew he’d be an insufferable drama queen.

She also knows, after hours of hearing him moan, that he’s not gonna shut up about ‘deceitful special effects’ and ‘useless laws of physics’, much less the ‘vile, little creature marring his muscled chest’. Not unless she does something.

So Chloe does something.

For the second time in her life, she gets naked in—and out of a hot tub.

‘No moaning, then,’ she tells him, giving him a stern look.

Lucifer looks her up and down in awe and hunger, dark eyes lingering on the tiny red bikini he knows she’ll take off in a matter of seconds. ‘Now, there’s a promise I can’t keep.’

‘About the wager,’ she clarifies, but he’s not listening.

With a sigh, Chloe sinks into the hot, bubbling water, loosens her bikini top, and gets into character.

She is never, ever betting with the Devil again.

#deckerstar fanfiction #two part drabble game #writing #lucifer x chloe #chloe x lucifer #lucifer morningstar #chloe decker #established deckerstar #lucifer fanfiction #lucifer on netflix #some point in the future #deckerstar fluff #fluff

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halfway-happyyy · 4 years

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The Autumn Cottage

Happy Saturday friends! Autumn has arrived in full force where I live and I couldn’t be happier about it. To celebrate, I have written a sappy, smutty piece inspired by the current weather and this ask that I received: Can u give us a oneshot about a snuggle fuck w alex in a cozy cottage in the fall?

One of the greater joys in her life had to have been waking up to autumn's fickle fingers trying to desperately to reach her from the comfort of her woolen blanket. She watched, sleepy and bleary-eyed as leaves in shades of crimson and burnt umber drifted past her window in no particular direction. Her fingers roamed over the left side of the bed in search of him. Alexander's silhouette was barely visible through the indigo morning light, though she could make out the prominent line of his nose, and the slight curve of his bottom lip. Unmistakable in the minimal glow of dawn was the familiar glitter in his eyes, the glint that said so much about him and then nothing at all in equal measure.

“Good morning.” She whispered, and even that felt like too mighty of a disturbance in the stillness of their bedroom in the cottage. Though if he minded, he never let it show.

“Good morning yourself, kid.”

She reached the tip of a finger towards him wordlessly and brushed a feather-light touch down the bridge of his nose. Moving lower, she outlined his lips and grinned into the air before her as she felt him smile against her touch. She moved around his face with care, tried to memorize each delicate crease and wrinkle in her wake, tried to commit to memory the aspects that he resented about himself, even if she loved them beyond measure.

“Beautiful,” Alexander murmured as he brought the back her wrist to his lips, kissing the soft flesh there passionately. He brushed the pad of a calloused thumb over the rounded curve of her warmed cheek. “Like watching a flower bloom right before my very eyes.” They stayed like that for longer than either of them cared to admit; she could count on one hand in the past year that she had spent a weekend with him like this- alone and entirely undisturbed from anything and everything. He had broached the subject of a rented cottage in passing one morning a few weeks ago. It was one of those mornings where something had gone awry at every turn, and everything had been a blur. He had been late for something important, that much she could remember. He had rushed around the kitchen in a fury, muted Swedish curse words coloured every second sentence. He was out of breath when he reached the front door, weighed down by his leather laptop bag, but before he left, he turned to her and smiled. “Let’s get away together, kid.” She had taken it with a grain of salt until he returned home that evening, tired from a rather long shooting schedule, but in a fantastic mood all the same. “I mean it. It’s about to be a beautiful autumn. Let’s get away, just the two of us.”

“Shall I make you a coffee, or are we just going to lay in bed and stare at each other all day?” She offered him a cheeky smile and an exaggerated eye-wiggle which he simply laughed at.

“I have half a mind to choose the latter option, but I really do need some caffeine this morning.”

She nodded finitely and leaned in for a kiss, the innate push and pull of it caused a fire to ignite deep within her for him. She could easily spend the rest of her life doing this very thing; loving him fiercely and being loved back just as hard in return. “Alright,” She gasped as she pulled away from the allure of his hot, wet mouth. “Meet me in the kitchen.” She rose from the bed silently and padded over to her suitcase that was propped up on a wicker chair in the corner of the room. She noticed Alexander’s cream Sherpa sweater hanging over the arm of it and she ran a fingertip over the unbelievably soft material.

Alexander must have been watching her because when he spoke, his voice still gravelly from recent sleep, he startled her. “I’d be happy if you wore that, today.”

“You would?” She had been eyeing it ever since he’d brought it home from a shoot a month ago. She longed to wrap it around her frame, the sheer feeling of it luxe and utterly comforting on her bare skin. Especially as the months would inevitably grow colder.

“Watching you wear my clothing does something for me, kid. I love seeing how happy it makes you.”

With a small smile, she lifted the sweater over her head and let it fall into place on her body, the hem of it falling just above her knee. She pulled her hair from the confines of it and let it fall in waves down her back. “How do I look?” She asked.

“Beautiful,” Alexander murmured.

Satisfied with his answer, she made her way down the hardwood-floored hallway to the kitchen. She had thought at first that the silence of the cottage would be too loud; that city life had turned her into a creature who thought she craved noise on a near-constant level. But to her pleasant surprise, it had taken less than twenty-four hours to grow accustomed to it, and she knew now that she would miss it dearly when it was their time to go home. Eliciting a yawn, she stood on tiptoes and tried to remember which cupboard Alexander had hidden the coffee beans. Without warning, a large hand reached up above her head with ease and produced the bag for her with a sly smile. “I’d have found them eventually…” She muttered.

“Oh, I have no doubt of that. But- would you have been able to reach them?”

She shook her head and let out a small laugh. “Cheeky, vertically-adept bastard.”

They made their coffee together in silence. It had been one of the many things that drew him to her in the beginning. Where conversation seemed forced with every prospective partner and lover in the past- everything flowed the way it was supposed to with Alexander. There had never been a need to fill the quiet with empty words and small talk. It was a wonderful change of pace. “You hungry yet, kid?”

She remembered the basket of farm-fresh eggs in the fridge, thought of the loaf of homemade bread next to the coffee machine and her mouth watered tantalizingly. “I could definitely eat.” She watched him move around the kitchen with ease; watched the way his worn sweatpants hung low from the edges of his hips. She watched the way his muscles flexed in the light pouring in through the stained-glass window above the sink. She had always been struck silly by the beauty that this man possessed; but the notion that his soul bested his looks would never cease to leave her in utter awe. “What have you got on the go today?” She asked, a fork full of fluffy scrambled eggs rested in her hand.

Alexander passed a napkin over his lips, swallowed the bite of food in his mouth and shrugged. “Thought I might chop some wood for a fire tonight.”

She could hardly contemplate it now; the thought of watching her man hulk through multiple logs of wood caused her to physically clench her thighs together. “You plan on doing that soon?”

“After breakfast.” He confirmed.

True to his word, after the last dish had been washed and dried and properly put away, he stalked over to the coat hook in the front foyer and threw a sweater over his naked chest. Turning to her, he eyed her up and down and cocked his head to the side; a small smirk pulled at the edges of his lips. “Care to keep me company?”

Reaching for a blanket and the book that she had started yesterday morning, she nodded her head. “Lead the way.”

It was warmer outside than she had originally anticipated, though the autumn wind had picked up a little more voraciously, and she marveled at the falling leaves the same way she had earlier that morning. The sky above her was cloudless and a bright azure blue and she found herself thanking a higher being for the blessings in which she had been given. Opening the book to the page she had last left off on, the sound of an axe ripping through the middle of a log rang out through the clearing and she knew then that she would not be getting any further reading done this morning. Instead, she watched in awe as Alexander lifted the axe high above his head and brought it down with a force she had rarely seen before, the log splitting into two pieces and falling away from the stump. It was poetry in motion, really. Alexander’s hair was the longest she had ever seen it; the sandy blonde tresses were grown out and regularly fell over his eyes but she reveled in it. Of the many years that they had known each other, he had always kept a mostly clean-shaven face but quarantine, and the filming of a particularly brutal Viking revenge drama had rendered him more manlier and distinguished than she had ever thought possible. “You are fulfilling lumberjack fantasies for me that I never knew I had!” She called out to him.

Alexander tossed his head back, a hearty laughter bubbled up from the back of his throat and exited his mouth like music from a box. “You can lie to me, but you can’t lie to yourself, kid. I see the way you look at me when I put on my old and holey plaid jacket.” He took a break from chopping wood to wipe the sweat from his brow. “To add to this- you also purchased me a very expensive axe a few years ago for my birthday.”

“Guilty,” She muttered under her breath.

“But rest assured I am elated that this-” He gestured to himself. “Does it for you.”

The morning continued on in much the same fashion until maybe an hour or two later when Alexander joined her from her perch on the wrap-around porch. Falling into a bench opposite her, he took a few moments to try and regain his breath again. Beads of sweat gathered at the base of his forehead and his broad chest heaved under the weight of recent physical duress. They each viewed each other with a hunger usually only attained after seeing one another for the first time in months. “Come here.” He ordered, softly. She rose from her spot without hesitation and sauntered over to where he sat. He pat the front of his thigh twice, a silent instruction for her to have a seat. She straddled his lap with ease and wrapped her arms around his neck; the heady scent of his perspiration and body wash made her lightheaded with want. It took every ounce of self-control not to grind shamelessly down on his steadily growing erection. As he held her tightly to him, his warm, broad hands rubbed reassuring circles into her back. She shivered into the touch as Alexander kissed his way up the side of her neck, his mouth leaving trails of fire in its wake. “You cold, kid?”

“No.”

He kissed his way up the base of her throat, past the jutting outline of her jaw, and finally to her lips. His mouth still tasted faintly of the maple syrup he had poured over his pancakes hours earlier and the urge to devour everything he had to give her was overwhelming. “You like me like this, don’t you?” He smirked. “All sweaty and dirty from working hard and chopping wood for us?”

“Yes.” Her eyes slid shut and her head fell back as he continued kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin at the base of her throat. All the while his hands roamed greedily over her sweater-clad body, squeezing, and rubbing as they traversed.

“You want me to take you right here, baby girl?” His voice grew gravelly again, though it had nothing to do with sleep this time. “I don’t even have to touch you to know that you’re already soaked for me.” The wind had picked up again and had begun to blow her hair around her face, the cool breeze a welcome reprieve to her heated body. Alexander was fully erect now, his hard cock throbbed tantalizingly at her thigh. She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and lifted the hem of the sweater to reveal her panties, and the wet patch that had grown steadily in the crotch of them. Alexander reached for her and slid two fingers past the flimsy material to her soaking folds. Immediately she leaned towards him to tuck her face into the crook of his neck, but he stopped her with a soft click of his tongue. “I want to see your face when you come for me, baby.” He brought a free hand up to caress her cheek, and as he held her, he brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. She parted for him without thought and began to suckle softly at it as his other hand started to delve deeper inside of her. He had perfected a rhythm with her now; one that no matter how many times he had pleasured her, would always be the fastest way to get her unravelling for him.

“More,” She gasped when two fingers just wasn’t enough anymore. Alexander nodded wordlessly, his gaze searching her own. He added a third finger inside of her, the stretch of it almost too much to bear.

“So fucking wet for me, baby.” He groaned, as he began to pump harder into her. He could feel her clench around him, could feel the soft, wet button of pleasure at the tips of his fingers. She sucked harder at his thumb the closer she neared to her orgasm. “You’re going to come for me soon, I can tell…” He murmured as she started to ride his fingers. “And don’t you dare be quiet about it.” He warned.

These words had helped to spur the wave of pleasure building in her belly and she arched her back against his fingers, her nails digging miniscule crescent shapes into the soft skin of his shoulder blades. “Fucking hell, Alex…”

He nodded up at her. “You look so fucking beautiful like this, my queen. That’s a good girl. Come for me,” He then angled his fingers in such a way that he had her screaming his name into the wind before them, her voice raw with unbridled pleasure. She continued to ride his fingers until she came down from her high, dropping her head to rest in the warm comfort of his neck. She couldn’t be sure how long she had taken solace there, but he eventually patted her bottom. “You came so good for me.” He pressed warm, wet kisses against her temple.

Taking his chin firmly in her grasp, she gazed at him. Unending vast oceans of blue peered back at her and took her breath away. “It’s your turn.” She crashed her lips against his again, the need to have him inside of her entirely all-consuming. He lifted her up in one fell swoop, standing tall from the bench as she wrapped her legs around his waist to keep from falling. He carried her into the warmth of the cottage, stumbling down the length of the hallway to their bedroom where he laid her as gently as he could manage, on the bed. He made impressively quick time of ridding himself of his clothing, and as he stood before her, naked and unbearably erect, she realized that she genuinely loved the man before her. It had occurred to her before that she felt this way, but she could honestly say that no matter what they would go through together, no matter the pain he would put her through in future, she loved him deeper than she had ever loved anyone before. “Come here,” She insisted.

Alexander crawled up the length of the bed, holding her head in his hands as he did so. He entered her all-consuming heat with a loud groan, the feeling of him stretching her to maximum fullness was incomparable to any pleasure she had experienced before. Having him inside of her was a comfort that she never knew she needed until it had happened. As he moved inside of her, his head dropped to her shoulder where he scattered dozens of open-mouthed kisses to the skin there. She held him tightly to her as he bucked his hips against her, his cock managing to hit all of the essential nerves each time he bottomed out. He was muttering nonsensical things now, random pieces of Swedish and English found her ears and she smiled into their embrace. She clenched around him after every other thrust, and soon his movements had grown sloppy. “Fuck,” He growled as her fingernails raked through the soft, firm skin of his broad back.

“You feel so fucking good, Alex.” She gasped against his bearded cheek.

He cried out as his hips stilled against her own and she could feel the familiar throb of his cock as he spilled everything he had to give, inside of her. He allowed himself a few more powerless thrusts, and another low whimper before he pulled out of her completely. She found his sudden absence almost painful. They remained like that for an unknowable amount of time, each just trying to catch the breath that they had lost a while ago. Eventually Alexander turned on his side to view her, bringing the back of her hand to his lips and kissing it gently. “I love you, kid.”

A crimson leaf lay next to his head on the down pillow, and she smiled softly to herself. “I love you too, Alex.”

#alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard imagine #alexander skarsgard oneshot #smut #writing #drabble

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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years

Text

Mine

4. Making friends 101

Genre: Yoongi x OC

Warnings: none

Word Count: 3.4k

“Have you decided what you’re going to wear to this thing?”

I nearly jump out of my skin as a wild Sebastian wanders into my room. I’m still a little on edge from the stalker a few days ago.

“What thing?” I ask, folding my clothes as I repack my suitcase. We’ll be heading out tomorrow morning bright and early for Hong Kong. It’s quite the trip from Paris, and I wish that we could have scheduled things out a bit better. We’ll be in Asia for the next three weeks before having to turn around and come back to Europe.

From there, we’ll finally head back to the states for the final stages of promotions and the premier. Nobody was too happy about the revised schedule, but neither did they dare pass up extra promotions in Asia thanks to a certain K-pop group.

“You know...this festival we’re invited to.” Sebastian makes himself comfortable on my bed, smirking at my agonizingly organized suitcase. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

As if I could forget about that. “It’s my most reliable source of anxiety, what would I do without it?” I chuckle sarcastically as I struggle with a thick sweater that refuses to lay flat.

The film festival has been on my mind quite a lot since I first found out that we were invited to it. While now I know what really happened; that it was Kim Seokjin that invited me and not Min Yoongi, I still can’t help but feel a pang of fear every time it’s brought up.

Really, the topic of what I’m going to wear to what may be the most awkward meeting of my entire life is at the bottom of my long list of worries.

“I’ve been thinking about what I’m going to wear.”

I raise my eyebrows at my friend. This is the most he’s hung around me for the past week, and I welcome the promise of banter. Heaven knows I could let off a little steam.

“Oh? Do tell.”

Sebastian stretches like a cat on the bed and I giggle at the sight. His eyes light up when he looks at me, imagining what else he could do to make me laugh.

“Here’s what I’m thinking. People over there are...stylish. Like, they wear edgy cool clothes all the time. So I’ve got to represent, you know? I’m thinking of raiding Saint Laurent or something in preparation for this festival. It sounds like it’s a pretty big deal over there. There’s bound to be lot’s of people.”

It’s not very often Sebastian gets super into fashion, but when he does, it’s a guaranteed laugh for everyone involved.

“Saint Laurent? That’s your whole paycheck, buddy.”

“Hey! Don’t ‘buddy’ me, you little weirdo. If you’re nice to me maybe I’ll take you along.”

I roll my eyes at his offer, however tempting. “No thanks. I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard, you know? Everyone is already expecting me to be tripping over my feet the second he walks in-”

“He? C’mon, Car. He’s not Voldemort, you can use his name.”

I flush when I realize that I’ve been purposefully avoiding speaking about Yoongi directly.

“Whatever. What I’m saying is that it’s already awkward enough. I don’t want to show up looking like a girl getting ready to go to her first prom.”

“Nonsense,” Sebastian hands me another sweater when I reach for it. “More like your second prom.”

He’s met with a sweater to the face.

“Shut up, you’re not even helping me with anything. Why are you in here?”

Sebastian makes a show of folding my sweater. “I’m in here to make sure you’re getting ready to leave tomorrow and that you aren’t passed out on the floor from anxiety or something.”

I wince from the unspoken words. Like before.

“Yeah, I’m ready. And I’m fine.”

He doesn’t look all that convinced, but lets it slide for now. “You know, things are only going to get more intense in Hong Kong. The closer we get to Seoul, the more intense things will become.”

“Not. Helping.”

🌙

I wish Sebastian didn’t have to be right all the time.

The second we get off the plane, it’s a madhouse. Like a literal madhouse. People are shoving, cameras flashing, and the questions are being yelled right into my ears. They’re mainly in English, a few in Cantonese, but there are quite a few in Korean as well. It’s easy enough for me to drown out the latter language, but the ones in English do their job well enough.

“Cara! Cara! Have you been in contact with Suga?”

“Are the two of you attending the festival together? What are you going to wear?”

“Just give us a smile, Cara! Cara!”

We don’t have a lot of security, only about three guys. Soon enough they’re surrounding me, and I am being moved along within a sea of black clothing and mumbled orders. I’m just able to crane my neck to see Sebastian pushing through the mess of reporters, tugging Rhea along behind him. She catches my eye contact and waves me forward.

I fight against the pang of guilt that hits me as I realize that this is all because of me. Never did I think that things would get this bad. I never thought that I would have to be surrounded on all sides by bodyguards.

By the time we’re shoved into the car waiting for us outside, I’m out of breath and so is everyone else.

Sebastian and Rhea share my car with me. I’m not sure whether I should try to sleep or apologize or resign-

“Cara?” Rhea’s hand grips mine as she gives me a reassuring squeeze. “You ok?”

I give her a shaky nod. “Y-yeah. I think I’m fine. We’re just going to the hotel, right?” I give out a sigh of relief when she confirms. Good. I could use a bed right around now. Especially because we spent a good chunk of our flight going over the promo schedule for Hong Kong and it looks like it’ll be pretty much nonstop starting tomorrow morning.

I hate to ask, but I also know that if there’s another stalker waiting for me in my rooms I won’t be able to sleep at all, no matter how tired I feel.

“Could we...check my room-”

“Already on it,” Rhea says with a sympathetic smile. “I sent a couple of people ahead of us to check all the rooms out. They should be done before we even get there, no worries.”

I relax a little, thanking her for her foresight. We fall into a groggy silence after a bit, the car ride from the airport to the hotel being about thirty minutes. Hong Kong is small, but it’s packed. With it comes traffic and bright shiny buildings that I can’t help but gawk at.

For living in the big city of Seoul for two years, I can’t help but be amazed at big cities like Hong Kong. They never get old.

I’m so distracted by those shiny buildings that I almost don’t notice my phone lighting up with an incoming call. Its vibrations finally pull me from my daze, and I smile as Bong-cha’s photo smiles up at me.

I took the photo for her on her first day of school after she changed programs. She’s grinning like an idiot in front of an intimidating building, holding up a big thumbs-up. Bong-cha has always hated the photo. She says she looks like a kindergartener on her first day of class. I agree, which is why it’s my contact photo for her. Purely just to piss her off.

“Wow the love of my life is calling me again? You must really miss me.”

Bong-cha’s laugh is either a beat too late or a touch too loud, but I notice it immediately. The knots in my stomach that were just beginning to untie themselves suddenly tighten up again.

“Yah, have you landed?”

Oh, right. I was supposed to text her when I landed. “Umm...yes. A little while ago. We’re in the car now.”

“I knew you’d forget to text me. You always do.”

“Hey, that’s not true! And you can’t blame me this time. The airport was a mess. I hardly had enough time to whip my phone out and text you when people were trying to claw their way down my throat.”

Again, she’s a second late in responding. “It was really bad, then? I was worried about that. You have bodyguards, right?”

“Yeah, we do. Just three, though. I felt bad, I had to ditch the rest of the crew to walk between the bodyguards. Everyone else had to fend for themselves.”

Now it’s silent for more than a few seconds, but something that sounds like hushed voices breaks it.

“That sounds hor-”

“Bong-cha, what’s going on over there? Are you at work or something?”

It’s as though I break some sort of spell, because suddenly a laugh tears through the silence, but I know it doesn’t belong to my friend.

Last I checked she doesn’t sound like a windshield-wiper when she laughs.

There’s something about it that has me furrowing my brows in a mixture of confusion and anger. Rhea and Sebastian share a look, not entirely sure what’s going on in my conversation but understanding my expression.

Bong-cha is in the middle of trying to explain. “Well, yeah, I’m at work. We got to talking about you traveling today and the boys wanted me to call you and check in on you and-”

“Am I on speaker phone?” Again, silence. I’m getting real sick of the silence. “Kim Bong-cha, I swear if you put me on speaker without even telling me, I’m going to catch the next flight to Seoul and-”

“Aaand there’s the Cara I know and love!” Bong-cha interrupts, confirming my fears. I’m definitely on speakerphone. “Please, we both know you’re too busy with work to come over here, even if it’s for a good cause like the one I’m sure you were about to explain. Also, the boys say hi.”

The boys. She says it so casually, as if we all went to high school together and are just checking in with each other to see how life has been.

“The boys? Like, all the boys? Also, you only called me because they told you to, and not because you were genuinely concerned for me? I see how it is, Bong-cha. That’s low.”

Before my friend can defend herself I hear a voice that sounds too much like a certain Kim Seokjin.

“You’re right, she is funny!”

I snort, fighting the blush on my cheeks. Am I really on the phone with BTS? What world is this?

“Is that Seokjin?” Even just saying his name makes me feel like a giddy middle schooler.

“Yeah,” Bong-cha responds.

“Well, you’d better watch out Seokjin. Once I’m done beating Bong-cha I’m coming after you.”

“M-me?” Jin has the sensibility to sound a little scared. “Why me?”

A dry laugh sounds, but I can’t tell who it belongs to. Few others have such a distinguishable laugh as Kim Seokjin.

“Bong-cha told me that it was you who started this whole mess with the film festival! Do you know how much anxiety you’ve caused me?!” My anger from this entire mess infuses me with more boldness than I could have mustered in this situation otherwise.

There’s some scuffling noises on the other side of the line, followed by a few grunts. Jin shouts in disdain.

“Yah! I was just trying to help! You’ll be thanking me!” A door slams, blocking out any further shouts from the man. I can’t hide the grin that splits across my face as I imagine what must be going on over there.

“Ok, he’s gone. I’ve banned them all from this room for the duration of this call.” Bong-cha reassures me. “I don’t have a lot of time, but I was calling to ask you something, actually. Don’t feel any pressure, but I think it may help relieve some stress on both sides-”

“What are you getting at, Bong-cha?”

She takes a deep breath. “Is it alright if I give Yoongi your number?”

My jaw falls open. I’m about to freak out when I realize that there’s a small chance that somebody may still overhear me on the phone. Barely composing myself, I respond to my friend, ignoring the obvious shake in my voice.

“Does he actually want it? Because it sounds like all of this has been thrown on him as much as it has me.”

“Er...yeah. He wants it. He was trying to ask about you today, but in that way where he doesn’t want it to look like he’s asking about you, you know? So I finally told him that he should just get your number so he quits bothering me about it. It’s been like this all week. So I figured I’d just give it to him, if you’re alright with it?”

In most situations, I know what to say. I’m usually pretty good at coming up with something to say in order to keep the conversation flowing. Maybe when Graham Norton dropped the bomb on me about Yoongi, I wasn’t the best at it but I at least inserted little comments here or there.

Now, I’m not really sure what to say anymore. It seems that the second I begin to relax and feel like I’m finally getting a handle on this, something happens.

It’s that same fear that I’ve had since I was a child kicking back in. It seems silly, in a time like this. I’m a completely different person since then, in a completely different environment. And yet, that fear that I’ve carried with me all my life comes bubbling back up to the surface.

“Bong-cha…” I struggle to keep a neutral expression as I’m aware that I’m not alone in the car. “I’m not very good at making friends.”

Any other person would be quick to jump in and reassure me. Any other friend would race to recall experiences that would prove my claim wrong.

I guess that’s why Bong-cha is my best friend. She doesn’t do any of those things, instead quietly listening and thinking before she responds.

“You know, Cara…” she begins in a sincere tone. “Maybe that’s not the point. Maybe you’re not meant to be amazing at making friends. But you’re really good at letting people be friends with you. Which, honestly, is a talent. A weird, obscure one, but a talent nonetheless.”

What’s meant to be a laugh comes out more as a sigh of relief. Bong-cha always knows what to say.

“I’m going to do some research on that talent, because I’ve never heard of it before.”

“So...are you alright if I give it to him? I think he wants to just apologize to you more than anything. I swear he won’t be weird with it.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek, mulling it over. Honestly, at this point, what do I have to lose?

“Yeah, go ahead.”

🌙

I’ve barely lugged my suitcase inside and collapsed on the bed when the first text comes through. I immediately jump up, senses on high alert. It would be a lie if I said that I haven’t been on edge just waiting for my phone to ding ever since I got off the phone with Bong-cha. Bracing myself for the bite of disappointment when it’s the “Young Rising” group chat, my heart nearly stops when I see it’s an unknown number.

UNK: Is this Cara?

UNK: This is Bong-cha’s friend, she gave me your number.

“Ah, he’s smart,” I note as I realize he didn’t give me his name just in case he mixed up the numbers. I quickly save his number in my phone, the action making me feel a little strange.

ME: Yes, this is Cara.

I overthink the four-letter message for way too long before I press send. I sound cold, but I don’t know what else to say. It doesn’t take long for three dots to appear on the screen.

“Oh, no. He’s typing. What do I do if he’s typing?”

I’m ashamed to admit that I consider chucking my phone out the window for more than thirty seconds. Only the ping of my phone stops me in my train of thought.

MYG: Have you made it safely to your hotel?

I blink at his message. The fact that I really don’t know this man at all is hitting me like a ton of bricks. He seems kind though...from the twenty or so words he’s typed. That’s all you need to judge someone’s character, right?

ME: Just made it, actually.

Pausing, I quickly type out a message before he can respond.

ME: No need to worry

Well, if this isn’t the most dry conversation the earth has ever witnessed. I cringe when I see the three dots pop up again. He’s probably thinking the same thing and is looking for a quick way to end this entire conversation.

MYG: Good, although I think I may need to worry. It sounds like the airport was out of hand today.

ME: ...were you eavesdropping on my conversation with Bong-cha?

MYG: Speaker phone doesn’t count as eavesdropping.

ME: It does if the person doesn’t know she’s on speaker!

I have to wait nearly five minutes before he responds again, and the tell-tale ping of my phone has me rushing over to where I left my phone on my nightstand, leaving my toothbrush on the bathroom counter.

MYG: I’ve thought about it, and I think I need to apologize for eavesdropping on your conversation with Bong-cha earlier today.

ME: That was easy.

MYG: I think I’ve made things difficult enough for you, don’t you think?

Huffing out a laugh, I nod in agreement.

ME: You have.

When more than ten minutes pass without a reply, I convince myself to take a shower. Then I persuade myself to stand in the shower for more than three minutes, even though I’m itching to see if he’s replied yet.

Fifteen minutes later there’s still no reply. Cozying under the covers I stare at my phone, answering a text from Bong-cha asking if Yoongi has texted me yet.

Even though I’m a fan of the band, I can’t say that I’ve ever really gone out of my way to learn a lot about them. Beyond the music, I know very little.

At least, that’s the excuse I give myself as I watch video after video about Suga: the biggest baddest soft boy in the universe.

It’s nearly two in the morning before I force myself to put my phone down and get some rest. The thought that maybe my text came off more harsh than I intended it to has crossed my mind several times, but it’s too late now to try to take it back.

It’s nearly four in the morning when the sound of my phone vibrating drags me out of my slumber. Groggily, I reach for my phone, hissing as I hit my elbow on the nightstand.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I groan, squinting at my phone. “I swear, if it’s Bong-cha at this time of night…”

MYG: I’m sorry.

MYG: I’m trying to fix this, thank you for being so kind and patient. Things will get better.

MYG: You don’t have to come to the festival, just so you know. Let me know, and we can cover for you somehow. Make up an excuse. Don’t feel like you have to come, or even speak to me. I’ll understand.

MYG: Sorry for texting so late! I just realized what time it is. Go to sleep. Sorry if I woke you up.

MYG: Sorry.

I’m caught between feeling choked up about the apology and trying to even wrap my mind around the fact that Min Yoongi is up in the middle of the night typing out an apology text to some girl he’s never met.

“Who even are you? Who does this?”

Hardly trusting myself to write back a proper reply, I squint into the screen as I hesitantly type letter by letter. Writing in Korean at four in the morning is not one of my strong points.

ME: I think I’m more exhausted by the amount of times you just said sorry than with what time it is. Go to sleep, Yoongi.

It takes all of thirty seconds for a reply to come through.

MYG: 😅 I guess good morning, Cara.

ME: Good morning, Yoongi.

I fall asleep watching the three dots on my phone appear and disappear as Min Yoongi ponders what next to say in this unlikely forming friendship.

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cultofbeatles · 4 years

Text

parts of pattie boyd’s book wonderful tonight that involved george that stuck out to me:

pattie didn't have any of the beatles records at first and only bought please please me since she was going to be in their film

“on first impressions, john seemed more cynical and brash than the others, ringo the most endearing, paul was cute, and george, with velvet brown eyes and dark chestnut hair, was the best looking man i’d ever seen.”

during a lunch break pattie and george sat next to each other and were both very shy

george asked pattie “will you marry me?” and after she laughed he said, “well, if you won't marry me, will you have dinner with me tonight?” and she turned him down.

she deadass invited george to hang out with her and her boyfriend at the time.

pattie and george are both pisces.

once reshoots for the film were happening george asked pattie about her boyfriend, she said she had dumped him, and george once again asked her for dinner. she accepted this time.

brian epstein joined them for their first date.

they sat side by side and were too scared to even hold the others hand.

george got along great with pattie’s family.

pattie liked cynthia lennon but found her difficult to make friends with.

“she wasn't like my friends, who enjoyed a giggle and some fun: she was rather serious, and often, i thought, behaved more like john’s mother than wife.”

there was a rumor that john and pattie were having an affair and pattie worried cynthia believed it. it wasn't true.

maureen cox (ringo’s girlfriend) was another beatles girl that pattie had a hard time being friends with. but said that she was “jolly and friendly, more relaxed than cynthia.”

pattie got along best with jane asher but saw her the least.

“i felt there was definitely a north-south divide among the wives and girlfriends. and i had the definite impressions that the girls from the north (maureen and cynthia) felt they has a prior clam to the boys.” okay shade, we see you.

(talking about going on holiday with john, cynthia, and george) “it was a good way to split the group. john and paul were the closest in some ways and immensely creative together, but they clashed if they were in each other’s pockets for too long.”

george asked pattie to cut his hair while on holiday and one of the cleaners found his hair and kept it.

(talking about george) “he was so beautiful and so funny.”

once a “weird looking man” tried to force his way into pattie and george’s house. pattie thought he was either a salesman or a jehovahs witness. it turns out it was paul in disguise.

george said the only place he got peace was in the bathroom of his hotel suite.

pattie got a lot of letters saying that if she didn't leave george there would be a curse put on her.

pattie’s cleaner was a male ballet dancer and “a terrific duster.”

pattie would count the days till george came back. once he jumped into the bed early in the morning to wake her up.

those two would deadass not lock their doors and were surprised that clothes were going missing...what is with older generations and not locking their doors i -

george would be in the studio from 11 am - 11 pm. sometimes midnight.

george’s mom loved when john would visit and would always ask him for an “upper.”

when john lennon is your drug dealer.

pattie wasn't a good cook but was optimistic.

“i loved listening to him (play guitar), loved the sound of the guitar in the house. sometimes i would start to talk and he'd be so deep in thought about the lyrics or the melody he was writing that he wouldn't answer. we’d be the same room but he wasn't really with me: he was in his head.”

pattie developed a kidney disorder.

(talking about the beatles dynamic) “in many aspects they were still children. they had few real friends apart from each other, and when they were asked questions they could answer as one - they were so much on each other’s wavelength. if one went to a gallery opening, they all went; if one bought a new car or new house, they all did. if one seemed in danger of taking himself too seriously, the others knocked it out of him.”

one evening george stopped the car and said, “let’s get married. i'll speak to brian.” they went to brian’s house, george went inside, and when he came back in the car he said, “brian says it’s okay. will you marry me? we can get married in january.”

briannnnnnn, is it my turn to get married yet pleaseeeee

pattie invited her absent father to their wedding but he did not come.

at the train station everyone left cynthia behind as she was carrying the suitcases and john was carrying nothing. peter brown had to go back and get her.

pattie’s quote from the lsd in the coffee moment is hilarious to me. “you've just had lsd. it was in the coffee.” john lennon: “how dare you fucking do this to us?”

pattie and george didn't go to brian’s funeral in liverpool but george sent one single sunflower.

pattie stopped modeling because george didnt like it. and she felt like she lost a part of herself.

maureen was afraid of flies.

during the India trip, mia farrow told john that maharishi was inappropriate with her and john wanted everyone leave after that.

after India george and pattie’s relationship changed.

(talking about george) “some days he would be all right, but on others he seemed withdrawn and depressed. this was new: he had never been depressed before, but there was nothing i could do. it wasn't about me, but i found that my moods started to mirror his...so bad indeed, that at times i felt almost suicidal. i don't think i was ever in any real danger of killing myself, but i got as far as working out how i would do it: i would put on a diaphanous ossie clark dress and jump off beachy head.”

george became more obvious about his cheating. it hurt pattie.

george was gaslighting her.

cilla black was staying at george and pattie’s house and was uncomfortably close to george so pattie left. six days latter george called to tell her the girl was gone and she could come home.

“..but my ego was too fragile and i couldn't see it as anything other than betrayal. i felt unloved and miserable.”

“jane asher came home unexpectedly from new york and found another woman in the house, an american girl - and did what i should probably have done with george...”

george would start to talk about his feelings about paul or john but would stop bc he never wanted to admit that he felt left out.

“we had once been so close, so honest and open with each other. now a distance had developed between us..”

(about yoko contributing to the beatles break up) “the four had never allowed anyone into the recording studios with them, but yoko not only sat by john throughout every session, he consulted her about the music they were making, which upset paul.”

during the let it be sessions there was a time with george and paul got in a fist fight and george left.

the same day john told George he was leaving the beatles, george’s mom told him she was ill and in critical condition.

i love that she vibe checked george. “he was bringing home bad vibes.”

george continued cheating and they continued arguing.

“my diary is full of entries about my unhappiness and the disintegration of our relationship.”

john came to visit george and pattie’s new mansion and said that it was so dark he didn't know how they could live in it, and george recommended that he took of his sunglasses.

eric clapton being a piece of shit and saying “if you won't be with me pattie i will become addicted to heroin.”

pattie said the only thing she had left was cooking and george took that away.

the couple was suppose to go on holiday together but george cancelled last minute bc he didn't want to go with her. he ended up going to spain.

“when i challenged him, he denied it and tried once again to make me feel as though i was paranoid.”

i'm not even...the whole fucking story of the george and maureen affair PISSES ME OFF more than i can describe. maybe i’ll make a whole other post but omfg i'm fuming. fuck them bothhhh. they deserve no rights.

george harrison, mere days before their wedding anniversary: “let’s get a divorce this year.” what an amazing new years resolution jerk.

ringo offered pattie a job.

when george told ringo about the affair pattie was so mad she dyed her hair red.

george loved pattie’s little brother and was his role model but he wouldn't come to the man’s wedding even though he was invited.

the night pattie told george she was leaving him george came to bed in sadness and said, “don't go.”

“i'm going.”

george invited pattie to dhani’s eighteenth birthday party bc she “had to be there. she was family.”

george had become more of an older brother to her now.

pattie had learned about john’s death from eric clapton and immediately went to the beatles office in london to hang out with everyone there.

(after finding out about george’s death) “i couldn't bare the thought of a world without george. when i left him for eric, he had said that if things didn't work out, ever, i could always come to him and he would look after me. it was such a selfless, loving, generous thing to say and it had always been tucked away at the back of my mind. now that sense of security had gone.”

the last time they saw each other was when george called saying he wanted to visit her new cottage and see her.

pattie didn't go to his funeral nor did she go to the memorial concert that took place a year later. but she spent that day high on the mountains thinking of george. “i was happy to mourn him alone and in my own way.”

she would have dreams of george after his death. “oh george, it’s so wonderful that you are alive after all, this is so fabulous; i knew they had all made a mistake.”

and then she’d wake up.

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mlqcconfessions · 4 years

Text

MLQC Headcanons - “Are you jealous?”

Because Tumblr likes being a butt, the ask sent by nonny was DELETED before I could answer it! But I did manage to read the request in my notifications. Sorry to the anon if it’s a little different than what you had asked

Characters: 4 Main Guys X MC

Prompt: Jealousy over someone getting a little too close to you

Warnings: FLUFF OVERLOAD

Victor

Your relationship with LFG’s CEO was still secret

Of course, you were the one who suggested the idea (he could care less what the press thinks, but didn’t want to compromise your privacy)

You’re actually kind of sad that he puts distance between you two during work (I know I said that, but even when we’re alone in his office?)

He makes it up by kissing you in the elevator (Goldman doesn’t understand why you’re standing so far away from Victor and honestly he doesn’t want to know)

After a few weeks of this “secret dating”, you’re so deprived of Victor that you’re less energetic

He notices this, obviously, and actually feels bad about it

Decides to bring some pudding along with him

He drives up to your company to pick you up, but notices you talking with someone (he lowers the window slightly to hear)

Doesn’t think much of it until he hears the guy asking for your number

And you willingly give it to him?

“This idiot....!”

Victor gets out of his car and walks up to the two of you, hand on your back, and escorts you to the passenger seat (shoots a quick nod back at the guy)

You notice the small bag under your seat and open it, surprised by the small containers filled to the rim with pudding (you waste no time in opening one)

Unbelievable, do I have to ask her myself?

“I never realized you were this careless, MC” (you look up from your pudding)

“What do you mean?”

“Giving your number to a stranger like that? I knew you were a dummy, but to this extent?” (his eyes are fixed on yours as the light turns red)

“Well, he’s going to need his boss’ number, isn’t he? And plus if anything goes wrong with the projects, I’ll need to know”

“....boss?” (Victor nearly misses the turn)

“Yeah, remember Minor? The newly hired one? I thought I told you already...” (your words drown out in his head as he pieces everything together)

“Wait, Victor...are you being jealous right now?” (he doesn’t like that your eyes are lighting up of all times for her to be observant)

He stops at another red light and leans over to lick the pudding off on your cheek (this guy!)

“So what if I am?”

Kiro

You had asked him if he could come for a segment on your show (modeling for some products)

You ask, he answers

Poor Savin has to clean up the mess after Kiro cancelled his ENTIRE schedule

“Miss Chips NEEDS me!” (if you weren’t Kiro’s girlfriend, Savin would’ve destroyed you)

In between shots he always appears at your side with snacks

“You need to be energized, MC!” (actually just needs an accomplice against Savin)

You’re amazed at the 180 difference of this sunshine when he’s with you vs. when he’s filming (he knows you’re amazed)

One of the cameramen calls you over to discuss the recent shots

The two of you discuss how to bring out the best in Kiro (he was fantastic as is, but there was a spark that just lacked)

He notices you slowly inching towards the cameraman, hands on the back of his chair (sunshine boy is pouty; why can’t you notice that your coworker clearly has interest in you?)

You ponder over how this shoot can be better, unaware that Kiro was staring at your every move

“Maybe someone else can be in the shot with him?” (you suggest, looking up to meet his radiating eyes)

“Great idea! MC, you do it!” (he gets up to grab your hand, and leads you to the front of the studio)

“No...I possibly can’t...”

Your arguments are useless as Kiro calls his team over to help you get prepared

3. HOURS. OF PREPARATIONS.

But you step out, beautifully dressed, catching the eyes of everyone in the room, including the very cameraman (this is NOT what Kiro wanted!)

He quickly pulls you towards him, “Trust me, MC” (stops to look at the cameraman before focusing on you)

He stages these elaborate poses to capture your best angles (Kiro, have you forgotten who this shoot is for?)

He sees that the cameraman is at a loss for words at your beauty (can’t blame him, but still)

For the last shot Kiro leans down and softly blows into your ear, causing you to profusely blush

He looks at the cameraman one last time before leaning down again to whisper

“Don’t be so cute in front of other guys, you’re making me jealous”

Lucien

He’s used to having students come up to him and flirting with him

Of course, it doesn’t faze him at all (but he does enjoy seeing your reactions when he flirts back)

Never thought the tides would turn against him

He sees another student walking up to you during lecture

“Is this seat taken?”

“No, go ahead!”

Lucien’s gaze lands on the student, his face flushed while pulling out the chair to sit next to you (......interesting, of all the seats?)

He looks around the room to find the tens of empty seats in the hall (you were oblivious to his advances that’s my girl)

He resumes the lecture with this in mind, his eyes occasionally darting to you

Obviously the student had no interests in the lesson, but just towards you

But you offer to lend your textbook to him, since he didn’t bring it (learning wasn’t his intentions, after all)

He leans closer to you as you push your hair behind your ears

Nothings gets past Lucien’s eyes (It’s the boyfriend radar in him)

“Mr. Smith, can you please explain the effects of rejection on the brain and its relations to physical pain?” (his lips curl to form a smile his eyes definitely weren’t smiling)

The student immediately understood the context, and scoots away from you in embarrassment “I...I don’t know, professor”

You glance back and forth between the student and Lucien, the latter having a look of satisfaction before continuing the lecture

“Jealousy is an unpredictable emotion. It can cause a person to become irrational and............dangerous”

The clock hits 5 PM, and the student darts out of the room as quickly as he came in

“Well, I suppose that’s the end of today’s lecture. Have a safe trip home, class”

You pack your stuff to leave when he calls your name

“Ah, Miss MC? Please stay for a bit. I need to talk to you about......preventing misunderstandings”

He locks the door

You don’t get out until 7

Gavin

Your frequent visits to the STF headquarters make yourself famous within the other evol agents

Everyone eyes the two of you as you drop off his lunch

You actually enjoy this situation very much (make his lunches EXTRA cute on purpose He blushes everytime he opens the box)

He is called in by one of the mission leaders to discuss their next plans

He squeezes your hand before heading over to a conference room

You stare at his deliciously chiseled back, unaware that Eli has appeared behind you

Ever since your first meeting with Eli, the two of you have grown considerably close (all you talk about is Gavin, after all)

He often updates you about Birdcop: what he's doing on missions, if he's well, if he got hurt (actually undermines any injuries he sustained during battle)

Eli knows how scary you can get

In return, you tell him about Gavin's cute moments

Like when he got drunk a few nights back and got jealous because you took a selfie with Sparky AND NOT WITH HIM (Eli adds this to his "How to Make Fun of B-7" list)

"I love him more than you do, MC"

"No Eli, he's MY boyfriend!"

The two of you, in your own world, laugh away as the argument over who gets custody of Gavin heats up

Meanwhile, Gavin notices the two of you through the one-way mirror in the conference room

You're laughing? Laughing the dorky, adorable giggle you only showed me? To Eli?

He's unable to focus for the rest of the meeting

He wants to storm out of the room and separate the two of you, but he knows his limits (he doesn't want you to see him acting so unprofessionally)

As soon as the meeting is adjourned Birdcop literally FLIES out the door and hides you behind his back

You're slightly annoyed because your "Things Gavin Says in His Sleep" discussion with Eli was interrupted

Then you realize the small barrier of wind blocking Eli from coming close

“Gavin...are you jealous?”

That was the first time Eli saw Agent B-7 flushed from head to toes (he secretly took a picture, and later showed it to the other agents)

We all love a good fluff

Whose imagine did you enjoy the most? For this post, I honestly can’t choose XD

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doomonfilm · 3 years

Text

Ranking : David Lynch (1946-present)

Film is definitely an art, and yet, it seems to be distinct from other forms of visual art such as painting or sculpture. Perhaps that is what makes David Lynch such a fascinating director, as he has the ability to tap into the surreal stimulus often found in the most famous paintings and transform it into brain-bending moments on film. Whether it his fear-fueled fascination with fatherhood present in his debut film Eraserhead, his ruminations on Hollywood society present in Inland Empire, or any of the stopping points in-between, it’s safe to say that David Lynch sits in the rarified air of directors like Ingmar Bergman, Alejandro Jodorowsky and the other few who can turn film into something deeper, more visceral and more meaningful.

With one of the most unique collections of films credited to his name, including a couple of curveballs in the early portion of his career, ranking the films of David Lynch is as perplexing as it is entertaining... so, without further ado, we attempt to climb that hill. I’m not even going to pretend that I can break down all of the symbolism and meanings of these films, but I can give my honest opinion about them.

10. Dune (1984) For a film that is supposed to be such a science-fiction gem, it’s a bit funny that nobody can seem to make a coherent, entertaining version of Dune. After nearly 15 years in pre-production hell (and three iconic names attached to versions of the production), the film landed in the laps of Dino De Laurentiis and Ridley Scott, but after another extended period delaying production, Scott bowed out, leaving the door open for David Lynch to step in. For what it’s worth, he did bring a huge list of names to the project, but the fact that the directing credit for Dune belongs to the throwaway pseudonym Alan Smithee should clue in any perceptive viewer that the project may not be one that Lynch cares to stand behind.

9. Inland Empire (2006) David Lynch isn’t the type of director that revisit ground he’s already covered, which is what makes Inland Empire (the seemingly final film from Lynch) such a confusing choice. Had this film not been released after a five year gap between it and the stellar Mullholland Drive, another film that focuses on the dark underbelly of Hollywood, fame and the tolls of the acting craft, perhaps it would hit a little different to me. That’s not to say that the film isn’t good, as it is definitely a slight adjustment from the style that Lynch basically trademarked, but when a director like Lynch experiments on what feels like general principle, it makes experiments that feel like a step backward lose impact.

8. Lost Highway (1997) Technically, you could count all of the Lynch “mystery” films as noir in some capacity, but Lost Highway feels like a direct skewing of what we know as the traditional noir structure. At its core, the film is a simple murder mystery, but it doesn’t take long for the Lynch signatures to begin appearing in every form from a mysterious, unnamed character to our protagonist literally changing into another person with no base explanation provided. Perhaps the latter choice was a look into split personalities and the disassociated nature that can come with brutal crimes... as I said before, I’m not here to try and decode the David Lynch mystery. While Lost Highway serves as a good entry point into the David Lynch catalog, it sits on the back half of the rankings due to no fault of its own... it’s more of a situation where the other mysteries are so stellar, that even the strange seems simplistic by comparison.

7. The Straight Story (1999) If you played a game of “one of these things is not like the other” with the films of David Lynch, it would not be difficult to make a winning choice, as The Straight Story is clearly the most accessible and standard of all the Lynch fare. What the film lacks in oddness and style, however, is more than made up for in terms of heart and performance. The use of a lawnmower as the main source of travel allows for some beautiful landscape cinematography, and the sheer force of will exhibited by Richard Farnsworth pays off in spades when he is reunited with Harry Dean Stanton. If you’re looking for something creepy, eclectic and mind-warping from Lynch, there are plenty of other films to choose from, but if you are looking for an excuse to shed a tear or two, this is the film for you.

6. The Elephant Man (1980) It’s funny to think that if not for The Straight Story, the Joseph Merrick biopic The Elephant Man would serve as the most normal film of the Lynch canon. This sophomore film dialed back on the abstractions present in Eraserhead, but it brought some extraordinary makeup and costuming to the table, not to mention it gifted viewers with a powerfully moving performance from John Hurt. Though memorable in its own right, the film really made its mark by tying Raging Bull at the 53rd Academy Awards, garnering eight nominations (and sadly losing in all categories, going home empty-handed). The backlash for the Academy’s lack of giving The Elephant Man special praise for its makeup effects also led to the creation of a Best Makeup award for the Oscars. It is quite possible that the combination of shock from Eraserhead in tandem with the skill and prowess shown in The Elephant Man opened all of the creative control doors for David Lynch, as not even Dune could derail his career and artistic oddness.

5. Blue Velvet (1986) While Twin Peaks is where I first heard the name David Lynch, it was Blue Velvet where I first got a taste of why Lynch was held in such high regard. The suburban paradise presented in the opening credits is immediately shattered by the discovery of a random ear, and the weirdness rabbit-hole gets deeper and deeper from that point on. The classic look of the film stands in powerfully beautiful contrast to the extreme darkness of the narrative, and Dennis Hopper turned it all the way up to 11 for his performance in the film. If Lost Highway serves as the best introductory film for those curious about Lynch, then Blue Velvet serves as a good midpoint to determine how much weirdness, abrasiveness and shock you can handle in a Lynch film.

4. Mulholland Drive (2001) I really and truly do not know where to begin with this insane rollercoaster ride of a film. The first time I watched this film, I thought I had everything figured out, every mystery solved and every bait and switch identified, but upon repeat viewings of Mullholland Drive, I’ve determined that I either had a brief moment of harmonic brilliance or I was fooling myself. The film makes sense at its root, if really and truly dissected, but when taken at face value and in real time, it’s almost impossible not to get completely lost in the sheer immersive nature of everything thrown at you. Naomi Watts is brilliant as the viewer guide through the film, and it’s good that she is so powerful in her lead role and guiding task, because Mullholland Drive is not afraid to get downright bonkers on more than one occasion. While films about the trappings of Hollywood and stardom are nothing new, I’m hard pressed to think of another film that approaches these in a manner even remotely close to that of Mullholland Drive.

3. Wild at Heart (1990) Quite possibly the most enjoyable of all the David Lynch films, despite some downright brutal moments of celebratory violence sprinkled throughout. The combination of Nicolas Cage and Laura Dern is nothing short of electric, and the presence of Willem Dafoe as antagonist is the perfect spark to ignite an already volatile mixture of leads. The energy level of this film starts on ten and only continues to rise as the film progresses. If/when I ever get the chance to program theater showings, I am putting this film on a double bill with Natural Born Killers immediately. While I can’t say that Wild at Heart is my favorite David Lynch film, I can say without a shadow of a doubt that it’s my favorite Lynch film to gush about with other fans.

2. Eraserhead (1977) More often than not, directors the caliber of David Lynch have stunning debut films to their name, and Lynch certainly exploded onto the scene with a gamebreaker in the form of Eraserhead. Upon first viewing, there is enough “WTF?!” going on to confuse most people, but for those brave enough to watch the film more than once, it becomes painfully obvious that all of the madness and shocking imagery on display is a clear metaphor for Lynch’s fear of fatherhood. The simple act of taking a fear that resonates with most humans and turning it into the equivalent of a black and white bad drug trip works perfectly, and Jack Nance’s iconic look and performance are almost recognizable enough to know without knowledge of the film. Eraserhead is one of those films that leaves you different than you were prior to watching it.

1. Twin Peaks : Fire Walk with Me (1992) In all honesty, was there every any doubt that Twin Peaks : Fire Walk with Me wouldn’t be in the top spot? Of all the properties that the David Lynch name is connected to, none of them have even come remotely close to touching the sheer size of the lore and fandom that has emerged from this modern day masterpiece. The story of the high school princess with deep, dark secrets to hide is not new territory, but the way that Lynch handles it all with Twin Peaks takes the familiar to all new realms of weirdness, including the creation of iconic places and characters like the Black Lodge, the Log Lady, the production mistake that created the infamous Bob, and the eternally iconic Laura Palmer, and oh yeah, the film’s not half bad either. I doubt that David Lynch ever had any intention of reaching the heights of fame that Twin Peaks : Fire Walk with Me afforded him, but it would be dumb to think that he isn’t impressed with the magnitude of the world he created based on that single idea for a film.

#ChiefDoomsday #DOOMonFILM #DavidLynch #Eraserhead #TheElephantMan #Dune #BlueVelvet #WildAtHeart #TwinPeaksFireWalkWithMe #LostHighway #TheStraightStory #MullhollandDrive #InlandEmpire

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xhanisai · 5 years

Text

#LetMarinetteDrinkCoffee2K19

Uploaded on A03 and FFN.net

~(x)~

Thirty-six hours.

She has been awake for:

Thirty.

Six.

Hours.

She, along with the ever so loyal Chat Noir have taken down sixteen akumas in a span of three days. Just after battling the first five, the duo were knackered beyond words, grumpier than edgy brutes in Hollywood films and definitely stuck with panda eyes, covered by their masks. Chat Noir dropped the puns in exchange for a more...colourful set of vocabulary, which Ladybug would have scolded him for on a normal day; they're meant to be role models for children after all.

Moreover, her infamous clumsiness from her civilian side has gradually seeped into her vigilant half, making the fights harder to battle and probably causing her partner more distress than help. Scratch that- she definitely caused him a lot of distress. She collapsed from a roof into La Seine from exhaustion after releasing her cleansing light. The dirty, freezing water and the sound of Chat's desperate screams gained her another twelve hours of consciousness. (The ten minute lecture and yelling from him afterwards may have helped too but no way in hell was she going to admit that). "I can't go to sleep just like that Chat...I have school in a few hours..."

"Then skip it! Tell your parents that you're sick or something- just PLEASE get some sleep, Bug."

"I have an important test-"

"Important my ass- your health is top priority here!"

"So is yours!"

"I'm used to staying awake for so long,"

"LISTEN UP NOIR! IF I'M GONNA SLEEP, SO WILL YOU. IF YOU STAY AWAKE, SO WILL I. SO STOP YELLING AT ME-"

Of course, the pair were interrupted by another god forsaken akuma and they violently swore at Le Papillon and his never ending madness. Ladybug muttered out very morbid things such as how she was going to skin the old man alive once she gets his miraculous or something like that.

This was all two hours ago.

Marinette was on her last legs now as she struggled to get up the stairs to her form room. Quickly chugging on her tenth energy drink, Marinette disposed the can somewhere secretly (they're banned in school after all) and flopped down onto the nearest desk. She inhaled sharply, reaching for the travel mug she secured in her bag, filled with the most sweetest, sugary, coffee one could ever have. Tikki mustered up the energy to pat Marinette's collarbones with her frazzled paw, hiding in her dark turtleneck collar rather than the purse for once in order to warm up.

A few more minutes passed but they felt like seconds to the heroine in disguise, nuzzling her mug. She internally prayed that taking three showers in a row managed to get rid of the disgusting river smell out of her hair before dashing out of the house. That thought process was interrupted when she clipped the mug's lid off. She smiled for the first time in twenty-four hours and pursed her lips for a sip.

"Girl? You're early again? Wow!" Alya's energetic voice was like a slap against her face, almost causing the poor girl to drop her life saving beverage. She sent her best friend a pitiful pout, ignorant to the rush of her classmates heading to their seats. The mass majority of them gave their class president a surprised look, wondering if pigs will start flying next at the sight of her early presence. Though, there was some tension by the others, no thanks to the recent incident between Lila and Marinette's 'supposed' stealing and bullying.

"Mmhm..." Marinette warmed her cheek with the mug, hoping that the brunette could take a hint and let her indulge in the diabetes level of sugar. She almost didn't feel Alya's fingers smoothing against her pale forehead, brushing away the dark fringe with a frown on her face. She then placed a hand on her flushed cheek, shaking her head.

"Marinette, you don't look very well. You haven't been well for days. I think you should go home..." Alya was prepared for Marinette's spiteful snort, countering the blue eyed glare with her fond hazel pair. "I studied my butt off for this physics test and won't rest till I get it over and done with. Maman and Papa said that if I get full marks, they'll lift the energy drinks ban off me." The Asian pursed her lips childishly and ignored Alya's gaping face before going in for the coffee which has been torturing her poor nose with its sinful scent.

With a speed that could rival a blue hedgehog, Alya swiped the mug out of Marinette's hands. The latter reacted quite late, blinking a few times with confusion before realising what happened.

"Alya-aaaaaa..." Marinette flopped tiredly on the desk, chibi tears running down her eyes whilst she pathetically reached out for her saving grace. "Ple-eeeeeease..." "If your parents have banned you from energy drinks then I bet that they won't appreciate you drinking coffee either." Alya's frown deepened at Mari's cries.

"Let DC have her caffeine, Cesaire." Kim whooped from the back, joined by a few agreements by Nathaniel, Mylene and Rose. "She looks like shit, no offense 'nette." The boy only received a thumbs up from Marinette and a scowl from Alya. Alix simply observed with her lips sealed. Confusion wracked through her head as she evaluated the events so far. Marinette was too tired to give a damn.

"I don't know Le Chien, I've been tailing our heroes for the past few days with little sleep so I think maybe I should drink this instead and send my girl home." Alya chuckled and ate up the sight of Marinette's torn face.

"No-ooooooooo! You can't drink up the only thing I'm living for! Don't you understand? Without that cup, that specific cup of coffee, I will no longer go on. All my happiness and dreams will be crushed! My will to breathe this wretched polluted air will be dissipated and then you all will have to pay for my funeral and live on without me because ALYA DRANK MY SOUL!"

Marinette was so tired, she was delusional. The filter was gone and her limp form pretty much melted on the desk with sadness. Alya almost gave in.

"Well!" Nino's voice piped up from the doorway, walking in with a dead looking model following him like a chick. "Guess our lil' Dudette robbed my seat, again. What next? You gonna rob my locker too?" Lahiffe snickered when Marinette flipped out her middle finger at him, refusing to lift her head up from the table. A few others giggled as well whilst Nino dramatically fell to his knees, yelling how he was so 'wounded' and couldn't believe the sweetest girl in the world had the balls to do that to him!

Adrien on the other hand, let his lips upturn for the first time in a day, fondly and shook his head. He definitely knew how the girl was feeling- oh boy. If anyone could relate to her now, it was him.

He made way to her, encasing his hand over hers, beckoning her to lower her finger with a playful tut. Marinette shivered at the feel of his silver ring against her skin.

"Now, now, it's rude to pull a gesture like that. No matter how much Nino deserved it," Adrien ignored his best friend's betrayed 'Hey!' and laughed warmly. Seeing Marinette woke him up more than the pathetic cup of coffee in his hand. He felt his heart skip a beat when she slowly lifted her head up to meet his gaze.

"Can I toss him out of the windows instead?" Her tone was so innocent, it was like she was asking if she could borrow a pencil. Adrien giggled out a 'No', his smile never leaving and squeezed her hand. Marinette dropped her head back down with a groan that sounded like 'Coffeeeeee'.

"Alya?"

"No, Adrien."

"She looks like she really needs it,"

"What she needs is a warm, toasty bed with fluffy pillows and her giant cat monster teddy, Mr. Cat."

"Nino-oooo, please help me persuade your girlfriend. I'm too tired for this."

Adrien collapsed on the seat, right next to Marinette, playfully flopping against her. He sipped his cup, eyes still closed. On any other day, Marinette would have freaked out five minutes ago. Now? She's too tired to think let alone move or speak. Nino and Alya bickered whilst the rest of the class (save for Chloe who scoffed) cooed internally at Marinette and Adrien.

"I'd let you have my coffee but this is as bitter and black as Mm. Mendelieve's soul," He earned a cute snigger from his twin tailed friend. She unconsciously moved closer to the blonde, clutching his cardigan's sleeve, half asleep. Adrien relished every touch, beaming. Though he could have sworn that Rose piped out a 'So cute!' at the back. The thought left as soon as it came. He focused on Marinette's scent and her warmth, tempted to sleep against her again. That's what friends do, right?

"I wouldn't be...able to take a sip of that without...gagging," Marinette shook her head quickly to stop nodding off. "Mine has fifteen teaspoons of sugar, lots and lots of cream, caramel, chocolate sauce, whipped cream and sprinkles..." She admitted quietly, blind to Adrien's choked face. Maybe it's a good thing Alya took that away from her!

"Are you trying to give yourself a heart attack? Diabetes? A food coma?" His shock was quickly replaced by her pitiful eyes. "D-Don't cry please-" "I just wanted to stay awake..." She peered at her coffee in Alya's hand so longingly, bottom lip jutted out (Adrien had the urge to kiss it but he quickly knocked that thought back). "I also really like...sweet things..."

"You're sweet enough already, Princess," Quickly, Adrien slapped his hand against his mouth, eyes widening at how the words slipped out. He blinked rapidly a few times before sighing in relief. Marinette didn't seem to have caught it and the others were too busy watching Nino and Alya argue. Curse his sleep deprivation...

"Princess...?" The model gulped as Mari continued. "Heh...I really like that nickname...reminds me of Chat Noir," Her lips curled into a peaceful smile and her eyes glazed even further. Adrien's demeanour softened, the subtle 'o' of his mouth curbed into the sweet smile his lips love turning into when Marinette's around.

"He has good taste. It is very fitting for the most awesome, amazing, kind girl to have the title of a princess," The boy mused. He gave a cheeky wink which prompted Marinette to roll her eyes playfully.

'Yes! Look how comfortable she is around me now! This is what I've been waiting for ever since I came here! A proper one on one Marinette time~!' Adrien celebrated internally.

"Then, since Alya and Nino act like a married couple all the time," His eyes flickered to the still squabbling pair, fussing over Marinette, before back at the petite girl. "They could be your parents, the King and Queen,"

Marinette hummed with amusement, her lips turning into a familiar smirk. For some reason, he knew she was going to banter back. He couldn't explain why.

"Then Chat Noir could be my Knight, considering how he's always used the 'I'm your Knight in shining leather' comment," Adrien felt his cheeks involuntarily redden. "And you could be..."

The older teen leaned closer to her face.

"I could be...?"

"...my..."

"Your?"

"...my prince-"

"Marinette!"

Blonde boy and Noir girl snapped out of their bubble, along with the rest of the class. They all simultaneously gasped as the Italian transfer student leaned against the door timidly.

Her left cheek had a huge, purple bruise and her arms were covered in bandages. Everyone looked at her with concern whilst Adrien cocked an eyebrow in suspicion. Marinette merely blinked.

"You...you're de-akumatised now...right?" Lila clutched her arms, hugging herself to make her smaller. Almost the whole class flinched and gawked at the designer. Alya narrowed her eyes in confusion, Nino cocked his head but Adrien...

He was fucking livid. A solid ten minutes before class, six days after her last stunt, this brat dares to antagonise Marinette again!?

Marinette let out a dumb "eh?", blinking repeatedly.

"I-I know you were mad about how I caught you cheating a while ago...but I didn't expect you to be akumatised and attack me yesterday night!" Lila burst out crying. "Why didn't Ladybug's healing powers work...why am I still hurt!" She clutched her cheek, enacting how much pain she's in.

Perhaps a week or two ago, the class would have leapt for Lila's side. However, everyone had a feeling that something's not right, something's not adding up. This feeling has been building up ever since Lila's arrival but they all seem to have brushed it away.

"I got akumatised?" Marinette rubbed her eyes and blinked at Lila again. Any other day, the girl would have leapt for her own defense. Right now, she was way out of it.

Sweet, innocent Rose furrowed her eyebrows too.

"Hold on- hold up! I've tailed every single akuma that's happened so far. There's only been sixteen these past three or four days and none of them involved you or Mari." Alya slammed the coffee down on the desk, oblivious to the Asian girl's twinkling eyes and soft "coffeeeee~". Adrien kept a protective grip on Marinette's upper arms, venturing closer, trying to keep her behind him, as if shielding her. His eyes turned acidic and rage boiled over.

"That's because she lured me out in the outskirts! She had giant needles and she looked so scary-" Lila let out a loud whimper. "It took hours for Ladybug and Chat Noir to defeat her!"

"Oho? I want giant needles...then I can stab Le Papillon with it and then I can finally sleep at night~" Marinette was painfully oblivious to her class' incredulous stares as she made googly eyes with the coffee. Nino sighed and took away the mug, placing it on Mm. Bustier's desk and then glared at Lila. No one paid mind to Marinette's suffering.

"Certainly I can't catch every single akuma, however, we've only seen the cleansing lights sixteen times. Thus, either you were hallucinating-"

"I wasn't! Where'd you think I got these injuries from!?"

"-Or! It was a non-akuma that attacked you. Some freaky criminal from the sounds of it. Ladybug's powers can't heal you if you were injured from anything other than an akuma." Alya then marched towards Marinette, sheltering her slightly too. "This girl has a terrible sense of direction so it's impossible for her to have dragged you to the outskirts and make it in time for school." Marinette simply sighed, paying zero attention to them.

She tried using her mind to get the coffee closer to her but turns out, she's not telekinetic.

If Lila was smart, she would have agreed with Alya and made up a story of the supposed criminal that attacked her. It would have bought her the coddling she wanted at the very least. However, it seems that Le Papillon's akumas kept her up at night too, making words slip out of her tongue before her brain could fully comprehend them.

"I swear on my sweet, dead grandmother's life, Alya! It was Marinette! I know it was! Would I ever lie to you?" She clutched her chest. "Even Rena Rouge and Carapace fought her too. Marinette was so strong...so evil...I think she's working with Le Papillon..."

Silence.

Not a single sound was heard.

Everyone held their breaths.

Internally, Lila panicked. Why wasn't everyone jumping to her side? Why was everyone so quiet? Dammit- why isn't everyone berating that damn blue eyed bitch and catering towards her!?

"Now that I think about it," Max broke the silence. Adrien, Alya and Nino immediately whipped their heads towards him, eyes wide with multiple emotions. Each of them were coming up with ways to make his death look like an accident along with Lila's if he bought the lie.

"I think I saw that horse boy running around too...what was his name again? Peggy...Pugo..." Max could have fooled strangers with his confused, calculating expression but his close friends knew way better.

Game on.

"Yes! Peggy! He was there too!" Lila exclaimed and then whimpered loudly, bringing her arms together, as if she was in agony. "He saved me! Otherwise...I'd have...lost my head...Marinette was so close to..."

"Is that so?" Adrien's voice was like thunder. It wasn't that he was loud, no; he was very startling instead. A tone which no one but Lila has heard before when he threatened her not too long ago. An icy chill was sent down everyone's spine and his emerald eyes gleamed with bloodlust. "Please do tell us more, what did our everyday Ladybug do in her akumatised state?" He wrapped an arm around her possessively. Alya and Nino stood closer to them.

Lila's face almost darkened with indignation but she quickly fixed it with the kicked puppy expression. She took a step back, clutching a fist to her chest.

"W-Why are you guys acting like this...Max? Alix? Are you seeing this? I think those four are against me now too-"

"But at least that weird monkey one was around to help you, right? If Marinette was THAT strong then I bet Ladybug and Chat Noir called the entire cavalry." Alix rested her chin on her clasped hands, glaring at the four people down. Only Lila missed the playful bump Kim and Max gave on her back.

"Y-Yes! Also the lizard, the hare and the erm...pigeon? Marinette almost won...she could have devastated Paris- no...the world! I think that's why Ladybug wasn't able to use her cleansing light- she was beaten black and blue..." Everyone else started to mutter, causing Lila to almost smirk victoriously. 'Yes...that's right, keep this up,' She cackled in her mind.

"Excuse me!" Marinette finally shouted, standing up with hands on hips. Lila's heart almost burst in excitement. Finally some fuel for her fodder! More ways to isolate Dupain Cheng! "The only devastation here is how no one's letting me drink my coffee! Nino just give me it!"

She didn't expect the smack upside behind her head from Alya, making her yelp in surprise. The bespeckled girl grabbed Marinette by the shoulders and yelled.

"YOU IDIOT GIRL! YOU'RE BEING ACCUSED OF TRYING TO MURDER ROSSI AS AN AKUMA WHILST PULVERISING TEAM MIRACULOUS IN PROCESS YET ALL YOU CAN THINK ABOUT IS A PUDDLE OF CAFFEINE FOR A DUMB MOCK TEST THAT WON'T AFFECT OUR GRADES!?"

She shook her shoulders harder, muddling Marinette's mind up even further. Adrien stammered, trying to break them up whilst Nino and the class watched with delight. They didn't miss the appalled expression Lila threw.

The way everyone brushed her off...the poor, injured...pitiful girl!

"A-A-A-AL-Y-A-A-A!" Alya finally stopped her torture and let Marinette flop into her arms. Marinette let out a groan, swirls in her eyes and the class burst out laughing.

"You did it Alya! You beat the akuma! You're a true hero!" Rose squealed out as Juleka chimed with a "Way past cool". Playing along, Alya straightened out the collar of her polar shirt, mock pride on her face with a smug smile plastered on. She handed Marinette to Adrien's waiting arms and stalked towards the back of the room.

"W-What-" Lila didn't get a chance to finish her sentence.

"Miraculous Alya Charm!" The brunette hollered, tossing a pen in the air with a cheesy grin. Kim and Alix made whooshing noises, as if to mimic the sounds of rushing magic ladybirds and everyone else cheered. "Your injuries should all be healed up now Lila! Good on ya~ now, Nino, it's time to bring that Theo artist and get him to make a statue of me for the park-"

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?"

Lila was now huffing and puffing. Raw animosity shone in her eyes, hands clenched into fists by her sides, knuckles whitening and teeth gritted. Adrien didn't try to hide his devilish smirk and the oddly quiet Chloe folded her arms, awaiting for the girl to show her true colours. Alas, lack of sleep made a slower, more frustrated Lila.

"I'm here, injured, traumatised! Ladybug was almost killed! This...THIS WITCH-" She pointed venomously at the knocked out Marinette in Adrien's arms. "Tried to kill ME! And you all don't care!? You're all worse than Chloe!" More crocodile tears ran down her cheeks...

Though they ran down as purple drips, somehow cleaning away the bruise? My, what magical tears indeed. Mylene and Ivan quickly opened a group chat (sans Lila and Marinette) to arrange years worth of apologies for their class president. They could be old and grey at one point but they'll still find a way to apologise to the sweet angel.

"You see Lila, everyone knows that's not true," Adrien purred out, sitting down against the chair like a spoilt royalty with a beautiful girl in his arms- who would kick everyone's asses in one go. He summoned a bit more of his inner Chat Noir.

"How would you know!? You weren't there, Adrien!" Lila hissed, banging a fist against the door. Weren't her arms in agony again?

"I suppose, but," He tucked a hair behind Marinette's ear with a grin.

"I was with her, all night,"

Everyone let out a dramatic, yet fake gasp, clutching their cheeks whilst Chloe let out a little cry "Adrikins how could you~!", one arm over her head whilst Sabrina fanned her with a book. Lila paled and sweat dripped down her face. She shook her head slightly, taking a step back.

"W-W-What do you mean? What were you doing?"

"Well, what else would two, unsupervised teenagers be doing all night? Why do you think we're so tired?" He played with Marinette's hair, smile widening. His peripheral vision caught Alya with her phone whipped out, probably not too long ago.

"T-That's a lie...you're just saying that to protect Marinette...your father would never let you out of the house at night, let alone with a no named wench like her!"

"Do I need to show my hickies as proof?" Adrien had a big bruise on his collarbone from falling onto his roof when coming home, lack of sleep messing with his coordination. It was dark enough to be mistaken as a love bite and the boy was never more grateful for it than he was now.

"Whoa du-uuuude- keep it child friendly here!" Nino winked.

"Enough of my love life now," Adrien's smile was wiped off and the dangerous frown was back on.

Lila gulped as everyone else followed suit. Some were close to exploding on the spot whilst others wore a look of pure disappointment and sadness.

"Can't you see? The gig's up Lila. You've lost. We all know you've been bullshitting from the start- well some of us anyways," His gaze swept over the class who looked terribly sheepish for a moment before reverting back to their intimidating stances. "Take a seat over there," He beckoned to the lone chair that Chloe kicked out at the front, quickly adjusting Marinette to rest her head on his lap so that she remained hidden.

"What if I don't want to." The Italian sneered, itching to run down the head teacher's office and come up with a way to save her sorry ass. If there's one thing she refuses to do, it's to accept defeat. No matter how high the odds are against her.

"I believe you don't have a choice, Rossi." He admonished, hands clasped against his mouth similarly to Alix not too long ago. "Don't make me pull a Chloe Bourgeois here and make your fucking life miserable by getting my father involved. I'm tired as hell and no one has got the time to humour you anymore. Take. A. Seat."

Keeping her steely gaze on his frame, Lila made way to the chair, plopping down and crossing her legs, trying her best to look powerful and threatening.

"Now, you're going to sit there, keep your mouth shut till I've finished talking, you got that-"

"You think that crap's going to work on me, Adrien? Hah! My mother is an embassy. You can google that for all I care, not like the rest of you googled whatever else I've said," Her smile was like a snake slithering, making everyone else feel uncomfortable.

"Did I say you could talk? Did my earlier threats fall on deaf ears? Do you love the sound of your voice so much that you're unable to comprehend simple french words from anyone else?"

"I-"

"I said keep your mouth shut."

His tone felt like a cataclysm to her heart. Immediately she snapped her mouth shut and dug her fingers into her knees. The looming presence of everyone else didn't help either. The weight of the situation finally crept up on her and the girl realised...

She's not going to get out of this one.

"Alright, so where was I...? Oh that's it!" Adrien leaned back. "I'm going to cut the chase. We're not mad because you lied, we're mad because you hurt Marinette and tried to do so again. I want you to fess up every single thing you've done in order to hurt someone so that we can record it and send it to the teachers. We have no trust in you and we know for definite that you'll chicken out if we don't do this now." His eyes were like ice now. For the first time, you would recognise Adrien as Gabriel's son for his chilly aspects, not because of his brand.

"..."

"Lila."

"I..."

"..."

"From the moment I arrived, I kept touching you and clinging onto you,"

"I had to take ten showers that day-"

"I stole your book! And threw it away!"

"...you bitch..."

"I threatened Marinette in the bathrooms to take away all her friends, especially you. That I'd make them all turn their backs on her and she'll be alone forever. That almost worked, didn't it?"

Alix was seething on the spot, desperate to break Lila's nose. The grip that Alya had on her phone almost snapped the device in half, distraught with the suffering Marinette has been through.

"That was the day I gave her that stupid advice of taking the high road huh? Should have realised how much of a psycho you were back then instead of being scared for Marinette of you turning into an akuma and trying to kill her." His instincts screamed to cataclysm Lila right this second. "Regardless, your threat didn't really work, hm? She kept fighting,"

"And that's why I faked my injury, hid the cheat sheet in her bag and put my necklace in her locker. That's all you need to know." Lila was about to stand back up but a hand clasped her shoulder from behind. She didn't need to look up to know that the perfect manicured nails belonged to the mayor's daughter.

"I didn't dismiss you yet, and also," Adrien leaned forward. "You're hiding some things, you know why I know? Because I have connections. You're better off spilling it yourself than me getting my hands dirty, Rossi."

"..."

"Rossi."

"That day when your fencer friend got akumatised..."

"The day you lied and forced yourself into my house? Yes, carry on,"

"I teamed up with her akumatised form..."

"How and Why."

"..."

"Tell us."

Everyone took a bated breath, cold sweat dripping down their heads, anger grinding in the pit of their stomachs whilst Marinette remained blissfully asleep on Adrien's lap.

"I worked with her akumatised form to take down Ladybug and give her Adrien because I hate, HATE Ladybug! I don't regret anything I've done! Never have, never do and never will! I will rise to the top and take you all down one by one!"

The whole class erupted in an uproar.

Obscenities were roared out.

Threats were exclaimed.

Students were restrained.

Agreste watched Rossi with hate that could rival Le Papillon's for Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Chloe struck her hand out, poised to give the brat a good smack.

"Quiet!"

A hand grasped Chloe's wrist while another tipped the cool cup of coffee down her throat.

Marinette slammed the travel mug down, gently putting Chloe's wrists back to the girl and then turned towards the class. Her eyes flickered to Lila's bewildered form for a split second and then back at everyone else.

"First off, thank you Adrien, for bringing the truth to light. I suppose waiting and planning for the right moment was a better idea than going out yelling and screaming." Marinette gave him a smile full of saccharine, making his heart skip a beat or two.

"You shouldn't be thanking me. I'm the one who let it get this bad in the first place...besides, you'd have concocted up something similar had it been anyone else getting harassed by her."

"You're not perfect. Everyone makes mistakes. Besides," She glanced back at the fuming girl behind her. "You've acknowledged it and sought a solution to fix it, rather than covering it up and lying," Lila's teeth were basically scraping each other.

"Marinette..."

"Second! As much as I'd love to beat her up for real like you guys, we are much, much better than this. Control your emotions or else Le Papillon will control you," Murmurs filled the room and everyone began to try calming down. "If I really was akumatised, Lila," Marinette began "I would have finished the job. So I think it's wise to not try and get me under Le Papillon's influences again," Her eyes were like ice, piercing Lila's weak frame.

"What do you mean again?" Adrien felt a rock hit the bottom of his stomach. The way Marinette flinched caused his paranoia to stir. "Marinette...?"

"Erm...when I got expelled? And also during the bathroom threat? But it's okay! I managed to outrun the bathroom butterfly- wait. I outran the butterfly but Lila got akumatised the next minute..." Marinette's eyes widened in threatening way, turning back to said girl. "You walked away all smug...so how did you get akumatised?"

Lila didn't answer.

"You're working with Le Papillon...?" Alya gasped out.

SLAM!

The force of Adrien's hands slamming the table as he shot up shocked the class once more. Alya moved in quickly to grab Marinette and keep her out of the way.

"Get out and never come back. If I ever see your face anywhere nearby, you're dead."

Lila immediately tripped out of the chair, feeling like she's been shot a thousand times by everyone's blood lusting looks. She scurried towards the door, only to crash into M. Damocles. No words needed to be exchanged by the looks of his infuriated eyes. A few other teachers, including Md. Bustier and Mendelieve crowded her. They all wore the same blistering look, beckoning Lila to follow them to the headmaster's office. They heard everything.

"I'll be back in a bit class," Md. Bustier spoke. Her voice lacked the usual cheerfulness and motherly tone.

With that said and done, the classroom door was closed.

Lila was gone.

Marinette has received justice.

Whoa...

A dizzy spell suddenly hit Marinette and Adrien, causing them both to stagger on the spot, quickly supported by their best friends as the event of what just happened came crashing down on them. Adrien was quick to recover, having managed to catch catnaps in between battles whilst Marinette took a few minutes to regain her bearings.

"Yo what the fuck just happened now..." Kim broke the silence. "The day started off good with DC getting all loopy and Agreste Jr. getting chummy with her and boom! Jr. turns into a kickass interrogator and DC pretty much admitted that she can easily kill someone!? I THOUGHT YOU TWO WERE ALL SWEET AND INNOCENT!"

"Kim, you know Maman has been teaching me various forms of martial arts since I could walk. It will only take me five seconds to snap your spine in half from where I am...well, when I'm lucid anyways," Marinette squinted slightly, almost swearing that she could see stars. The others turned to Adrien for his explanation.

"...I guess watching Naruto does have its perks..." He itched his nose shyly, his cheeks flushed slightly at everyone else's groans. "YES I'M A FILTHY WEEB. DEAL WITH IT." He folded his arms defiantly. "And Father has rubbed off on me too," This, everyone accepted. Adrien turned around again to face his friends, eyebrows furrowed and sleep clouding his vision. He really was dead on his feet.

However, one thing didn't leave his mind.

"Marinette, why didn't you tell me?"

"Hm? What?" She yawned quietly.

"That you were almost akumatised when she threatened you?" Marinette picked up some cool anger in his words, recoiling back and then put her hands on her hips. Her eyes narrowed.

"I don't know and I don't care. I don't need to tell you everything, hmmph!" Truth be told, Marinette didn't want to be seen as a scaredy-cat or a coward, so, she kept mum. She was also pretty hurt from everyone's actions and behaviour beforehand too and she felt really bad at the idea of making them even more guilty.

"What. Kind. Of. An. Answer. Is. That?"

"I don't appreciate your tone Monsieur,"

"And I don't appreciate yours either Mademoiselle,"

"Well tough."

Adrien sauntered towards her, hands in pockets and one eyebrow cocked. The stance and swagger was so identical to Chat Noir that Marinette swore for sure that she's hallucinating.

"It's okay to not be okay you know," He then gestured out to the rest of the class who observed. Everyone wore a weak smile. "In order to progress, we need to communicate. You're always looking after us, catering to our feelings. Let us do the same. We really want to make it up to you," He let a hand rest on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

With a sudden determination, he leaned forward and quickly brushed his lips against her cheek. Her face softened and her mouth opened in a cute gape.

"Please?"

Tears flooded Marinette's eyes, causing everyone to rush forward, hoping to calm her down. The tears never stopped streaming, no matter how much the girls dabbed her eyes with napkins.

"I...I..." Marinette began. Everyone leaned in eagerly.

"I..."

"I just realised how I never got to savour my coffee..." Marinette sniffed.

Everyone literally dropped on the floor with a groan. Of course, she wasn't lucid. She probably was never lucid from the start! Before anyone else could say anything, Alya pushed Marinette on Adrien's back, commanding him to take her home.

"Yeah sure...I think I need a day off too..." He held the snoring girl on his back, piggy style before letting out a yawn.

"Don't try anything funny with my girl~" Alya teased and ignored Chloe's bristled comments. On a normal day, Adrien would have denied this and claimed that Mari was just his friend.

This isn't a normal day.

And Adrien is tired and grumpy and sarcastic.

"Then perhaps I shouldn't mention about how yesterday was such a wild ride~"

"Agreste!"

"Bye!"

"I'm being serious!"

~(x)~

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