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clevermird · 9 months

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Title: Good Times and Good Drinks

Prompt: Confessions @shortfictionweeklychallenge

Rating: Teen

Characters: Jessasi Silver (female Smuggler), Corso Riggs

Pairing(s): femSmuggler/Corso

Now that she has her ship back, Jessasi decides that she and Corso deserve a night on the town - but they both might have a bit more than they're admitting on their minds.

This is also my attempt to mess around with the start of the Corso romance plotline to make it less awkward and weird.

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For the first time in weeks, Jessasi was sitting right where she belonged: in the cockpit of The Fool’s Wager, feet up on the dash, music blaring from the stereo. It’s good to be home. Skavik hadn’t even sold any of her stuff!

She checked her wrist chrono. Still eighteen hours until they were supposed to take off. Hmm. . .

“Corso!” she called, swinging her feet to the floor. “Get ready, we’re going to town!”

Twenty minutes later, she was ready to go and she didn’t look half-bad if she did say so herself: striped shorts, a grey top that clung to her curves, short vest to draw the eyes to her chest, and comfortable sandals. Checking the mirror one more time, she added a bit more eyeshadow and a touch of lipstick, slid on a few bracelets, and headed for the airlock.

Corso was waiting for her. “Aren’t we going to bring Risha?”

“Nah.” Running across the galaxy on her say-so was one thing. Going to the bar with her was another.

They took a taxi to the Old Galactic Market Sector and found the cantina easily. Darmas Pollaran had moved on, but the place was still crawling with all sorts relaxing after hard days. Down on their luck spacer types nursed drinks and scowled at everyone else, swankier customers played sabbacc, and a few guys were already drunk enough to be trying to dance along with the holodancers.

Jessasi rolled her eyes and headed for the bar.

The droid manning the drink orders whirred over as she slid onto a stool. “What will it be today, gentlebeings?” he said in a voice that sounded ridiculously snooty on any bartender outside the Senate Tower.

“Uh. . . just a Corellian ale?” Corso said, looking awkward.

“Come on, Corso, where’s your sense of adventure? This is Coruscant!”

“I already know I like it, why bother changing?”

Jessasi shrugged.

The droid turned in her direction. “And for you, m’am?”

“How about a Nexu Tail?” It wasn’t a drink she could find everywhere, but when they do, she always got them.

While they waited, she looked around to see if anything exciting was happening. Someone must have just won a pazzak match. The guy was dancing around like something good had happened, at any rate. A cute, yellow-skinned twi’lek guy smiled bashfully at her and she smiled back. He brightened.

“Uh. . . Captain?” said Corso with just a bit of an edge to his voice.

“What?” I’ll talk to anyone I like, thank you very much. The guy looked at Corso, then back at her. Shaking her head, Jessasi waved him over.

As he got up, someone shouted from across the room and he turned. A moment later, he was bro-hugging a burly Cathar and Jessasi was back to waiting for the drinks to show up.

Probably for the best anyway. Her mom had always said “flirt all you want, kiss all you like, but don’t give your heart – or your holes – to anyone unless you’re sure he’s the one.” And so far, she’d followed that rule with only two exceptions. And she’d really thought that Mal was the one, so actually it was only one exception.

Thinking about Mal was on its way to ruining her good mood, but fortunately, the droid returned with their drinks before she’d stewed about it too much. They certainly served generous portions in this place. Corso’s beer mug was half the size of her head.

“What is that?” he said, looking at her drink.

“It’s a Nexu tail.”

“Looks like a couple of Zeltrons exploded in your glass.”

Scowling at him, Jessasi took a sip of the brightly colored drink. “It tastes good.” And they put way more Corillian rum in it than most places did.

Corso took a swig of his beer. “Really?”

“Yeah, try it.”

He sipped it, frowned, took another sip, then two more. “Wow, you’re right. Is that mujafruit juice?”

“I honestly have no idea.” She grinned and ordered another drink. Maybe something akdov-based this time. . .

Several glasses in, she could feel the liquor starting to work. A warm feeling stretched down toward her toes and she felt really relaxed for the first time in a while. Coming here was a great idea.

“I guess you should get to try one of mine,” Corso said, breaking a silence of several rounds.

He slid the mug over and Jessasi picked it up with both hands. The drink had a rich, gold taste that made her feel even warmer.

“You’ve got foam on your nose.”

She wiped it off and returned to her own drink. “You know?” she said, giggling a little. “I really hope Risha’s telling the truth.”

“So do I, Captain.”

“I mean, it would really suck if she wasn’t. And you can call me Jess, you know. Everyone else does.”

The droid reappeared, dripping with some unsatisfied customer’s drink. “May I refill your glasses, gentlebeings?”

They looked at each other and their eyes met. Corso grinned. Jessasi grinned. “Sure. Why not.”

Corso’s eyes were brown, she noticed as the droid trotted away to mix her another drink. A really nice brown. Why hadn’t she noticed that before? She looked away awkwardly. Someone was singing some kind of drinking song on the sunk-in section of the floor.

Their refills came back really fast this time and she started drinking again.

Setting down his already half-drained mug, Corso said, far too loudly, “Why do we never do anything fun like this on the ship?”

“We just got the ship back! And I can be kind of fun!” She shouldn’t turn her head so fast. It made the room spin.

Corso grunted and kept drinking. Jessasi followed suit. She was almost at the bottom of the glass before Corso spoke again. “We could get our blasters out and see who can take out the bartender droid the fastest.”

For some reason, this seemed hilarious and Jessasi started giggling. “I don’t think the cops would like that very much,” she managed to get out when she could breathe again.

He laughed too and scooted his stool closer. He smelled good, like a haystack, even though it had been weeks since he could have been near one. “Back on Ord Mantell, we used to run the rontos around in circles and see if they could charge us without falling over. We should do that.”

That set her off again and she felt tears coming to her eyes. “Got any suggestions that don’t involve farm animals, farmboy?”

“I know a few, but I might not be able to show you all of them here. . . “ He leaned in closer and Jessasi felt his lips brush against hers, his breath hot on her face. She smiled.

Then he pulled away. “Sorry, Captain,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have done that. Propositioning you in a bar like a Hutt’s dancer. It’s not right.”

“’sokay,” Jessasi replied. Everything was starting to get fuzzy, but she felt sad nonetheless.

“Are you doing okay?”

She burped. “I thinks so.”

“We should get you back to the ship.” His words slurred together, but she wasn’t sure if that was him talking or her hearing. Maybe a little of both?

When she tried to walk, the floor kind of tilted like the Fool’s deck did when she pulled crazy stunts. Somehow, she ended up with her arm around Corso’s shoulder and they made it out to the curb. A taxi pulled up and the droid buzzed. “State your destination.”

Jessasi crawled into the seat and curled up on it. “Taris. That’s what Risha said, right? And we have to do what Risha says. She’s the only one who knows where it is.”

“Just take us back to the spaceport,” Corso said.

Oh. Right. The spaceport. The speeder started speeding along again – a speeder, speeding, how funny is that? – and Jessasi closed her eyes. It made her stomach hurt less. “I don’t feel very good.”

“Why don’t you go to sleep? You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Okay. You know what? I like you.”

“I like you too, Captain.”

As the speeder hurried back to the spaceport and her ship, Jessasi fell asleep with her head on Corso’s shoulder.

#swtor #swtor fanfiction #swtor smuggler #corso riggs

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hikarimiyanaga · 3 years

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Loving You (Part 4)

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3

I want to celebrate since I just finished another exam... there are more to come but Wanda comes first so here's an update.

Warning : Omegaverse. Beta!Reader x Omega!Wanda Maximoff. Curse Words. Mentions of Bullying. S*x Talk.

Also, just tell me if I need to add more warnings so I can edit as quickly as I can.

Taglist : @mitchiesdungeon / @upsidedowndanvers

You wake up with a startle and pant. You flinch at the sound of your loud alarm and see that it was right next to your pillow.

“Jesus, what the fuck?” You took your phone and open it. You see the messages between you and Wanda. You grin and charge it before getting ready for school. Both of your parents note your chippy behavior as oppose to your usual calm.

“Morning, Ma, Mom!” You greet and grin as you get your breakfast. You eat quickly and get your bag with your phone on it. You put on your jacket and smile as you wave them goodbye.

You yawn as you trudge the halls, now on a mission. You see Wanda and notice that even though there is no scent coming from her, she’s not wearing a jacket. You take off yours and smile as you approach her.

“Y/N!” She smiles and you offer up your jacket.

“Want to-“ She takes it before you could finish and puts it on. “put it on?” She sniffs it and nods.

“I really like your scent.” You blush and your heart beat faster at her words. She smiles and takes your hand. “Thanks for the jacket.” You gulp and nod as she drags you to your own locker. You get your books from your locker when someone closes it with force. You manage to keep it open but glare at the owner of the hand. Janine. You get Wanda behind you.

“Y/LN.” She says and you roll your eyes. You get the last book from your locker and lock it.

“What the fuck do you want? Rumlow’s scent isn’t enough? Fucking him isn’t doing it anymore?” Janine glares and pushes you but you stay firm. Determined in not letting her get closer to Wanda.

“Shut the fuck up, Y/LN. You fucking Beta.” Wanda glares at Janine as Angel and Pietro go to her. They stop Wanda before she does something to Janine. You roll your eyes and sigh.

“Just say it and get it over with.”

“My friend, Nina is on your AP Class.” You raise an eyebrow as the said girl is dragged by Janine to you.

“So? The fuck that-“

“She needs to copy your homework. We were busy with practice and she hasn’t done it.” You look at Nina.

“What homework? Which class?”

“Um… Latin? The research one?” You scoff and shake your head.

“The one where I spent days on? The one where I had to hole myself up in the library? No fucking way. I can help with references but that’s it.”

“Oh? Really? That will be-“ Janine pushes Nina out of the way and grabs your collar. You make a face as you can practically smell her heat. Jesus, what the fuck? Compared to Wanda’s cinnamon and citrus scent. Janine’s overwhelming heat scent disgusts you. You gag and turn away.

“What the fuck, Rivera?” You open your locker and snatches a bottle from the box and hold it out to her. “At least do something about your scent! It’s making me want to vomit!” Janine growls and tries to grab you again but you dodge her. She faceplants into the ground and everyone gasps. You give the bottle to her friend and you get a piece of paper from your notebook. You write the references and give it to Nina as Janine groans and some of her goons help her stand. You sigh as she glares at you.

“T-thanks.” Nina manages to get out before running away. Janine growls and you roll your eyes.

“Want to get raped on the street? Used by asshole Alphas that have nothing better to do than prey on Omegas like you? Omegas who like to flaunt that they’re in heat and therefore can’t stop their primal instincts?” She stops and you get the bottle from her friend. You hold it out and she stares at it. “If no, then take this and spray it on yourself. I swear to god, your scent is overwhelming.”

“Rumlow wi-“

“You sure?” You cross your arms and sigh. You take her hand and put the bottle on it. “Spray it if you’re not. Trust me.” You turn and hold Wanda’s hand and you both leave as everyone just stares at you. You yawn again as you get to your first class.

Lunch comes and Wanda was waiting for you by the courtyard. You try to greet her but she glares at you.

“Why did you help her?” You raise an eyebrow… is she jealous? And who? You tilt your head and she scoffs.

“Who?”

“Janine.” Ah. Your bully. The one who tried to ruin your life on several occasions but never succeeded.

“Ah.” You shrug. “I meant what I said. Omegas should get help when they’re in need.”

“She-“ You hug her and smile as her scent and yours combine and hit your nose. You like this combination. You rub her back in comfort and she clings to you. You hum and carry her to the bench. You kiss her forehead and sit besides her. You take her hand and kiss it.

“Wanda. I won’t ever stop even if a person did bad things to me. Omegas deserve to be treasured. It’s unfair that they’re the only ones who get heat. That you suffer for it. So even if Janine did bully me doesn’t mean I won’t help her.” She sighs and hugs you. You rub her back.

“Why are you so nice?” You chuckle.

“I’m not nice… just.” You pull away and you get the lunch you brought for the both of you. “Let’s eat?” She knows you’re avoiding the question but shrugs it off. You’ll tell her when the time comes.

You’re in your final class and just like yesterday, Angel sat besides you.

“And so the project for our midterms will be in pairs.” You can hear several groans but you and Angel stay quiet. “Y/LN and Garcia.” You both turn to the professor. “You can both do it so-“

“No.” You both reject the idea and shake your heads. The professor sighs but relents.

“Okay. Dismissed.” You gather your things and Angel waits up. You stand and look at her as she holds her hand out.

“Partners?” You and Angel are the top students of this class, no doubt, so it seemed cheating to the others if your partnered up… But she’s the only one willing to pair up with you so accept it. Everyone else is either an Alpha or Omega and you’re the only Beta in this class… in Any AP class, for that matter. You take her hand and shake it.

“Deal.”

“Baby.” Natasha calls out and you both turn to her. You both go outside. Angel hugs Natasha as you get your phone out.

“Put in your number so we-“ Before you could finish, Natasha has already pushed Angel behind her and is growling at you. You raise an eyebrow and Angel can’t decide if your stupid or brave… or both… tired can be there too. It’s a known fact throughout the school that you don’t mess with any of the Avengers because of their families and each other.

“BACK OFF.” Natasha’s voice can be heard by everyone and they all stop and stare as you sigh. This is one of the things that you hate. Having attention when it’s not at all needed. You try to look at Angel but Natasha pushes her away from your line of sight.

“Romanoff, this is for our big project.” You try to reason, she still is an Alpha and you would probably break several… many bones if she did attack you. Your eye twitch as she doesn’t move. “The one where at least a quarter of our grade rides on?” She’s still growling and you groan. You couldn’t stop yourself as you cursed. “FOR FUCK’S SAKE!” No one has ever heard you shout before. Not the angry one, at least. Not even your siblings or parents did. You avoided being angry because you knew it would make the worst of yourself to come. They all flinch and Natasha gulps. Angel holds Natasha’s hand and gets to her side. “I’m not stealing Angel! She’s all yours!” You run a hand through your hair. You turn away and take deep breaths to calm yourself down. Angel pulls Natasha away and approaches you.

“Y/N.” You turn to Angel with a glare but she doesn’t get fazed and she holds out her hand. “Your phone.” You give it to her and she quickly saves her number. “Text me.” You nod and she leaves with Natasha. You sigh as you leave for the library. Everyone else disperses but with more murmurs.

Wanda spots you as you enter the library. Thankfully, with no Angel around but you seem tense. You sigh as you sit beside her.

“Are you-“ She didn’t even get to finish before you cling to her arm. You breathe in her scent and you already feel calmer. You smile as you let her presence wash over you.

“Sorry. Need to calm down.” Wanda nods and you relax as you breathe her in. After a few more minutes you pull away and sigh.

“What happened?” You groan as you put your arms on the table and lean on it.

“Natasha got jealous because I was getting Angel’s number.” Wanda tenses and you flick her forehead. “Because of a project. Don’t get jealous too.”

“Oh. What did you do?”

“Got angry and yelled.” She raises an eyebrow and closes her book.

“And?” She’s curious now.

“It’s not something I usually do.” You answer simply and look away. It was something you didn’t like talking about and Wanda picked up on it.

“Ah. Are you okay now?” You nod and smile at her.

“Thank you, Wanda.” She smiles and kisses your hand.

“You’re welcome.”

You hum as you get inside your house. You would stay up all night reading but you remember you made plans for tomorrow.

“You seem in a good mood.” You turn and see… both Valerie and Alsie eating with your parents. The hell are they doing here? On a Friday, no less? The hell is going on?

“Al? What?”

“Came to visit, sis. Hey.” Alsie waves at you and you nod.

“And Val?”

“Came back too. I kinda forgot something.” You sigh as you realize.

“You know.” They all flinch and look away from you. You run a hand through your hair. “How?” They all look at Valerie who groans.

“I was going to pick you up so we can follow Ma and Mom on the fancy restaurant when that girl asked… no demanded.”

“Her name is Wanda. And yes, we’re going on a date tomorrow.” Alsie cheers and you shake your head. You go to your room to change. You get down and you see that all of them are looking at you so you tell them all about her.

How she’s the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. How her scent and presence can calm you right down. How she’s a reader like you. How you can talk to her about everything.

“When are we going to meet her?” Alsie asks and you choke on your dinner. Val chuckles and Zale glares at her as Dahlia helps you.

“Why?”

“Because? First friend and possibly girlfriend. Maybe even soulmate.”

“How do you know?” You ask and Alsie raises an eyebrow at your question.

“Know what?”

“That a person is your soulmate?” Valerie groans and Zale smacks her in the head. Alsie smiles at you.

“Simply put, sex.” Zale shakes Alsie while Dahlia looks murderous. Alsie is trying to calm Zale down while Valerie is holding in her laughter.

“She is right.” Dahlia sighs. “When two people have sex, do you know of knotting?” You nod as you finish your food.

“When an Alpha cums inside of an Omega or a Beta. Their penis gets larger and would need at least half an hour or an hour to get it back to normal before they can take it out.”

“How about marks?”

“When a person bites their partner’s neck during sex.”

“Yep. There are two kinds of marks. A mate mark and a soulmate mark. And even though only one person bites the neck. The two will have it at the same time.”

“A mate mark is smaller and would only stay for either a day or a week. It’s kind of a brand.”

“Like this.” Valerie shows hers and you hum.

“Is that from that girl?”

“Yep.” Zale sighs and Valerie sweats as she looks away.

“A soulmate mark is a permanent one.” Zale takes off her shirt. A bigger and clearer mark is on her chest and you gulp. “Like this, Your Ma gave it to me.”

“While you were making me?” Zale glares at Alsie who raises her hands.

“It appeared during our first time. It never disappeared.”

“And also, every mark is the same if it’s the first time between two people, only time would tell if they are soulmates or not.”

“So… if Wanda ever marks me… or if I even have the courage to ask her to do it with me then if it doesn’t disappear means-“

“She’s your soulmate.” You groan.

“I can’t ask her to do that! I don’t want to!”

“And that’s totally fine!”

“Are you an ace?” You glance at Valerie who is serious and you sigh.

“No. I don’t think so… but isn’t it too early for us… we haven’t even-“

“Feelings is a good indicator as well.”

“Yep. I just felt like the world stopped when I first saw Venus it was amazing.” Alsie smiles and you reciprocate it. She just looked so in love and happy. “She was just so beautiful then she smiled and I felt my heart burst. That was when I knew I had to chase her.”

“Chase?”

“Something an Alpha does whenever they find someone attractive.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. Venus thought I was annoying but decided to give me a chance.” You chuckle and Alsie ruffles your hair. You grunt as she grins at you.

“Good luck tomorrow sis.” You sigh. Good luck indeed.

You put on your clothes for the date and hum as you get ready. You get your phone and the flowers you bought earlier that day.

“Looking good, Y/N.” Alsie says in approval when you got down.

“Thanks.” You look at the time and go to the door. “Bye, sis!”

“Yep. Bye!” You wave goodbye before leaving and closing the door.

You arrived at the spot 10 minutes earlier than the agreed time but she was already there and wearing your jacket.

“You’re early.” You grin as you approach her. She sees the bouquet in your hand and her heart beats faster. You smile and hold it out. “For you.” She takes it and smiles as she smells it.

“Thanks.” You hold out your hand and she takes it.

“You ready?” She nods with a smile.

It was a standard date. Movies, in which you both watched a new released rom-com. Then a dinner inside a diner that was your personal favorite to go to. You’ve decided to walk her home.

“Did you enjoy our date?” You ask nervously and Wanda laughs. You stop and she grins at you. “I’m serious.”

“You’re seriously dense.” She says and moves closer to you.

“I want to know.” She hums and grabs your jacket.

“I seriously enjoyed it.” She pulls you closer and you hum.

“Out of 10?” She laughs and pushes you away while you grin. Her laugh is one of the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever heard.

“Seriously?” You shrug and she rolls her eyes.

“100.”

“Oh.”

“Just spending time with you can equivalent to 10 and you showing me your favorite places is just icing on the cake.” You take her hand and kiss it.

“Good.” Before you both knew it, you were both standing in front of her house.

“This is me.” You hum and look at the house.

“Pretty big house.” She laughs and you smile.

“I hope we do this again?” She asks and you nod.

“I sure hope so.” You let go of her hand and kiss her on the cheek. “I like spending time with you.” She pouts and before you know it, she pulls you by your jacket and kisses you. After your initial shock, you kiss her back. She tastes like the chocolate milkshake and omelet that you both ate earlier. You pull away slightly and she smiles.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting to do that.” Your heart who was beating faster than usual feels like it’s in a race. One where you chase her.

“Good. I would love to do it again.” You kiss her again but you both pull away as Pietro calls her name. You look up and Pietro waves from his room.

“Hey, Y/N!” You wave at him back.

“Hey, Pietro.” He laughs.

“Wanda, was it a nice date?” You both blush at his question and Wanda groans.

“Pietro! Get inside!” He laughs but complies. She sighs and turns to you. “Sorry about him. He ju-“ You cut her off with a kiss. You grin as you pull away.

“Good night, Wanda. I’m looking forward to that next date.” She nods as you turn and walk away.

“Nice one, sis.” Wanda turns and Pietro was at their porch.

“Shut up, Pietro.” She grumbles and gets inside. She takes off your jacket and goes to her room. She smiles as she touches her lips. God, you were such a good kisser. And your hand… felt so right against hers. Her phone pings and she checks it.

You: How does Wednesday sound?

She laughs and replies before changing. She can��t wait to see you again on Monday.

As soon as you open the door, your family was up and front in your face. They were all asking different questions but only one thing was on your mind… Wanda. Okay, two things, how annoying your family is.

“Guys! Stop!” You say loudly and they all stop. They look at each other and chuckle. They were just so excited to see you go on a date. The day you knew that you were a Beta, you kinda swore to them that you won’t let anything or anyone get in the way of your grades… They didn’t knew back then that you were going to be a loner or you would not be socializing but Wanda changed that.

“Sorry, little one.” Zale ruffles your hair and smiles. “We just got excited.”

“And happy.” Dahlia hugs you and you hug your mother back. Everyone joins in and you can’t help the smile on your face.

“Thank you.” For being my family, for loving me and for accepting me. You didn’t voice the rest but hoped you could let them feel your gratitude.

A/N:

I just searched up the Eternals.... and I already got a fic idea. Damn. I'm now wondering if I could do it for Natasha... or Wanda.

I haven't even finished this sequel and yet my head is full of ideas.

Thank you for Reading!

#Wanda Maximoff x reader #Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader #Omegaverse #Marvel #Marvel Fanfic #Scarlet Witch x reader #Wanda x reader #Wanda x you #wanda x y/n #omegaverse fic

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cazimagines · 3 years

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After seeing @toobruhlforschool post the article, I had to translate it!

English translation by google translate below the cut

Daniel Brühl tried for the first time as a director - and he succeeds very well. His debut “next door” (in theaters July 15th) is full of black humor about how embarrassing, tricky and exhausting it can be to be a famous actor. Especially when you meet a neighbor in the corner bar in a Berlin neighborhood, played by Peter Kurth , who obviously hates you. The story is based on Brühl's idea, and very vaguely on his own experiences, from which the writer Daniel Kehlmann draws("Measuring the World") has made a script in which the price of fame is demonstrated with relish. In addition, allusions to Daniel Brühl himself are hidden in the film, who not only directed the film, but also plays the protagonist, a famous actor, in “next door”. Brühl, who last worked in the international Marvel series “The Falcon and the Winter Soldier” , speaks in an interview about what made him decide to make this story into a film and how to approach such a project.

Interview with Daniel Brühl: About the price of being in public and the success of projects

Mr. Brühl, in your directorial debut you investigate the price a successful actor pays for being in public. Why did you want to do this film?

One topic I've always been interested in is gentrification. The initial spark was an observation I made in Barcelona. That was about ten years ago. I moved to the city for a while. That made me very proud, because I've always felt very connected to Barcelona, I was born there and finally wanted to say: “I'm a Barcelonian now”.

Instead, did you attract attention because the actor Daniel Brühl was recognized?

No, I just acted very silly, always walking through the streets with my key fob to show that I don't live in a hotel, I'm from here now, then I always talked loudly to the people in the market where Street, via FC Barcelona et cetera. Then I always enjoyed going to such a lunch spot and one day there was a crusher in front of me, such a real edge, and looked at me piercingly without blinking. Forever long. Like Clint Eastwood.

Just like in your film a man from the neighborhood, played by Peter Kurth, who takes on an actor who is very similar to you.

Yes, with the man in Barcelona back then, I immediately felt that he couldn't take me. As I sit there with my trolley suitcase, just flown in from Berlin. The jet set that somehow rattles around loudly with the waiters, makes each other mean and wants to please. That totally exposed me. Then my imagination started. I thought it was a scaffolding builder who had been able to look into our apartment from a construction site for months and now wants to confront me with everything he knows about me.

How do you relate this story to gentrification?

There is such a constant feeling that you are not to blame for gentrification but are part of the process. I've been dealing with this since I've lived in Berlin and I noticed it again in Barcelona. Then the mind game started that an actor, someone who is in public, offers a completely different surface to attack.

How do you translate that feeling into a project?

I enjoyed the way such a person was approached in a masochistic way. As he is told, “I found your film poop. I think you shit as an actor. " Then I moved the story to Berlin, the East-West topic was added, but at some point I realized that I couldn't write it alone and approached Daniel Kehlmann. He could do something with it immediately. While we were writing we noticed how much more was there. That was around the time some public careers were collapsing. That was an interesting component, people who outwardly have perfect lives, whose careers are ruined by rumors that come out about them.

Which personalities are you thinking of?

Well, of course the case of Kevin Spacey, the very different case of Harvey Weinstein. There have been many cases, some of them based on real crimes. It became an interesting topic for me because I wanted to play someone who would completely lose himself in his career and then be held up in the mirror.

If so much of you went into the script, why is Daniel Kehlmann the only one who has the credit and you don't?

There are so many Daniels. At some point I just felt uncomfortable reading my name so often. In addition, Daniel Kehlmann did the most on the script. I couldn't have made the film without him. That a Kammerspiel (From what I learnt in my film studies, Kammerspiel is a certain type of German cinema) remains exciting for over 90 minutes depends on the dialogues and they mainly come from him. I was a sparring partner who fed him ideas.

You have had a veritable career as an actor for over 25 years, appearing in blockbusters and playing a leading role in an international Netflix series. Then that's a fundamental step in deciding whether to direct. How do you manage to take such a new path?

You can't take a quick shot. I've been waiting for the right time, but you can't let it pass. That's what happens when you're too scared, too respectful. At some point you have to trust yourself. Now that I've done it for the first time, my humility towards directing is even greater. I consciously wanted to do something small. I would not have believed myself capable of certain other substances. Then I would have the feeling that I am falling out.

How do you know that you are on the right track and that you can get started with a project?

If an idea remains interesting for you after long deliberation and reflection, and does not suddenly become stupid or boring, you can ask yourself whether this idea is reasonable, i.e. whether you trust yourself to implement it. I knew this was a world and that there were characters - I just know my way around that. If you are also lucky enough to be able to set up a good team, then you are on the right track. It is of course a total luxury that someone like Daniel Kehlmann has promised me to write this. Peter Kurth replied with a handwritten letter within 24 hours. We met and hugged in his local pub.

The role actors and actresses play in public is not only the topic of your film, but was also discussed in the course of the #allesdichtmachen campaign, a campaign against the measures taken by the federal government to contain the corona pandemic. Were you also asked about this?

I was actually not asked, but I know many of those involved. I wanted to stay out of this heated Shitstorm number and clarified that privately with those I know. I not only found the action unsuccessful, but also the counter-action excessive and absurd. I can see that in many areas at the moment, how quickly such a thermal rises, which is toxic. That's a bit of the theme of the film.

Then again quickly an easier topic: What is the most absurd thing that has ever happened to you as a public person?

Haha, a scene that also made it into the movie. In Barcelona a couple came up to me in a park, two blondes, with a camera in their hand. It was immediately clear to me that they were Germans and they wanted a photo with me. I instinctively put my arm around the woman. They were Swedes, of course, who didn't recognize me at all, but wanted me to take a photo of them. It was so embarrassing and even more terrible than in the film because then I started to explain in English “You know, I'm a famous actor…” The way they looked at me! Haha, that was one of those moments when you notice how you blush. Well then I think I could tell you about embarrassment for an hour.

#daniel bruehl #daniel bruhl #daniel brühl

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littledrummeraussie · 4 years

Note

It’s still the 20th in my timezone so I wanted to give my request a try: 😍 - it’s so cliche but I’d like to read smth. With being roommates with Ashton (maybe the reader also works in the music industry like his real roommate) and the reader slowly realises that they are in love with him.

1. Ashton overstimulating youu🤤🍭 but like not as a punishment more as a “exploring” and like al the praise he would give uuuu🤤🔥

2. Ash using a shower head on you?🔥🔥🔥 or maybe he holds ur legs open with his own legs and uses a vibrator to overstimulate you🤤🤤🤤🔥

3. @ashtondaddy90 Congratulations! You deserve all the followers you got. Your fanfic are all amazing 🍭 with dom! Ashton

When I asked where should we go next with the 1K Celebration prompts Blanca @notinthesameguey simply said that we should combine them. So this is entierly her fault. Thank you Blanca.

I didn’t exactly follow the prompts, but I hope you will still enjoy Ashton and his roommate having feelings for each other, resolving the tension with some naughty sex in the end.

1K celebration masterlist

- - - - -

“Rise and shine!”

“Fuck off,” you laughed into your pillow, burrowing under the blankets as Ashton opened the curtains in your bedroom. “It’s too early for your bullshit.”

“It’s 9 AM and you’ve already missed breakfast,” he climbed over your bed, tugging the sheets down before taking the pillow out of your hands. “No pillow fights, you know I’m right.”

“Didn’t plan on it,” you chuckled and Ashton lovingly rolled his eyes, already knowing that you definitely thought about hitting him with your pillow.

“Coffee’s waiting for you downstairs,” he leaned over and combed the hair back from your face before kissing your cheek. “I need to run some errands, do you need anything?”

“5 more minutes of sleep,” you closed your eyes, giving a light push to his shoulder to give you more space.

“You’re unbelievable,” he huffed with a laugh before scooting off the bed. “Why do I even let you live here?”

“Because I pay rent, not like Calum,” you gave him a sleepy wink, and Ashton laughed again, clicking his tongue.

“True. Alright, call me if you need anything.”

“A new roommate!”

It all happened after your previous roommate got a boyfriend for herself and you quickly needed to find a place when they’ve decided to move out and into their new shared home. Ashton’s offer came in the form of a surprise call while you were packing up your stuff. The two of you previously worked on a few small projects and he told you that he had a spare room you could use as long as you needed it. He even helped you transport all your things across town and made you feel right at home in his own house.

You’ve spent the evening catching up on the last few months as you ate takeout and drank cool ciders, setting some ground rules for your new living conditions. Ashton pressed a kiss on the top of your head before he went to bed, making your face heat up. You’ve told yourself that the feeling will pass; after all it was just a friendly gesture from him – he was your new roommate, nothing more.

The first few weeks were spent working out how the two of you could actually live together without being in each other’s space all the time, but you both found that you didn’t mind the other’s presence while you were working. It was way much simpler than you’ve thought it would be, and by the next month you were already working on another project together in your spare time. You’ve felt a strange domestic bliss settle over the two of you as you’ve cooked dinner and washed the dishes, talking about ideas while you ran errands or when you’ve watched TV before bedtime. Ashton seemed like the perfect boyfriend material and you needed to tell yourself to keep your thoughts PG when it came to him. You didn’t want to wake up one morning to awkward conversations about your night activities.

This thought lasted until you started to realize how comfortable the two of you became with each other. Ashton didn’t mind taking off his shirt during the day if it got too hot for him, and most mornings you’ve found him in the kitchen only in his boxers, tan skin and muscles all on display as he made coffee. His smile was always bright and flirty, and on many occasions you felt your panties slightly sticking to your skin by the time you’ve finished your breakfast. He let you borrow his hoodies, still warm from his body with his scent lingering on the fabric, and you felt dizzy whenever you’ve thought about burying your nose in his neck just to really feel him. You slowly started to realize that you had it bad for Ashton – and that you couldn’t help yourself, even if you’ve tried your hardest.

It happened during one of those nights when Ash was out with the guys and you spent the majority of your time alone, sipping on a glass of wine and enjoying a hot bath. You were a bit tipsy as you found your way back to your room, ready to turn in for the night and have a long sleep before he woke you up again at the crack of dawn. As you passed Ashton’s bedroom you stopped – the door was left ajar and you peeked inside with a giggle. You’ve been in there plenty of times before, but there was something exciting about looking inside while he wasn’t there. You caught sight of a discarded black shirt on the floor and you had a feeling Ashton kicked it under the bed in a hurry as he was getting ready.

A blush crawled up your neck at the thought of stealing it, and before you knew it you slipped inside, reaching down and bringing the shirt up to your nose, inhaling his citrusy scent that mixed with the smell of sweat and the fabric softener he used. You hugged it to your chest as you made your way back to your room, locking the door before letting the towel fall on the floor, and in seconds you pulled the shirt over your head, pretending it was an actual hug from Ashton. You lay back against the pillows as you buried your nose in the collar of the shirt, a small moan leaving your lips as you clenched your thighs together, a familiar throbbing taking over you. God, you wanted him so bad.

Your nipples hardened under the fabric as you thought about all those times he ran around the house only in his sweatpants, shirt forgotten next to his drum kit after practice, water drops clinging to his skin before running down on his back, soaking the towel riding low on his hips. A hand slipped between your thighs, fingertips teasing your slit as you thought about Ashton’s fingers drumming on the counter or brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, his touch always soft and careful, and more than anything you wished you could feel that touch on your skin right now. You imagined what those long fingers could do to you, all the places they could reach to make you see stars, and you threw your head back as you slowly eased a finger inside.

In your fantasy hazel eyes stared up at you as Ashton slowly moved his finger in and out, a grin pulling at his full lips as he told you how beautiful you looked. Before you knew it a second finger joined the first to stretch you, and you whined as you thought about Ashton doing the same to you, preparing you for his cock. Your other hand slipped down to rub your clit, pretending it was his lips and tongue chasing you towards your pleasure. You let your sounds spill out of you, moans and whines mixed with words begging for something more as you let your fingers bring you to your next orgasm, already working towards the third, not caring about how sensitive you were.

What you didn’t know was how the door opened downstairs, Ashton quietly locking it, not wanting to wake you as he figured you’ve already gone to bed. He toed off his shoes and made his way up the stairs, but stopped when he heard moans from behind your door. Ashton held his breath as he listened to the sounds, face hot and cock stirring in his pants as he realized what you were doing. He wished your door was open just a crack.

Maybe he should have been ashamed as he let his fingers curl around the hard-on straining against his jeans but he couldn’t help himself. He’s been doing his best to keep you out of those kinds of thoughts, even though the final image crossing his mind before coming was always one of you. Ashton didn’t want to ruin your friendship and your current living arrangements, but he felt like you’ve put a spell on him all those years ago when you two started working together. He wished that he could figure you out, to find out if the thoughts and feelings he had towards you would be reciprocated if he ever had the courage to just come clean about them.

And God knows he tried to gauge your reaction after the first few weeks you’ve spent together as roommates. There was a reason he forgot to put on clothes in the morning, pattering around the kitchen only in his boxers as you came down for coffee. He was always careful with your conversations, using certain words and themes that would tell him if you would be open for something more between the two of you. Ashton felt a spark of hope whenever he caught you in one of his shirts or hoodies, or those times you fell asleep with your head in his lap – there was something in the air, he was sure about that. You were way too comfortable with each other just to be friends. He just needed to be sure it wasn’t just unresolved sexual tension, but maybe something deeper.

His pants were already hanging open, rubbing his cock through his boxers as he listened to your moans and whimpers, tightening his fist around himself every time he heard you riding out your next orgasm. He was rock hard and leaking precum, soaking the fabric of his boxers as he quickened his pace, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip to keep his own sounds at bay. This was the first time Ashton really let himself think about you like that – naked and writhing on your bed, fingers curling around his biceps or into his hair as he kissed and sucked your neck, leaving his marks on your skin as he took you hard and fast. He wished he could be the one drawing those sounds out of you, making your thighs shake and your body tremble as he made you come again and again.

A high-pitched moan echoed around the house and it took only a few more strokes for Ashton to reach his own orgasm, his sounds muffled by a hand over his mouth. With his back against the wall he gave himself a few seconds to catch his breath before scrambling back to his room. His face felt hot, hair sticking to his forehead as he shrugged off his shirt and jeans, his boxers a mess from his pleasure. He wiped himself before throwing his clothes into the hamper, crawling under his sheets as he tried to wrap his mind around what just happened. Ashton was ready to feel shame, to feel like he had violated your privacy which was one of the ground rules between the two of you – but he only felt the wild thumping of his heart and the pleasure still buzzing through him.

It might have been the first time he heard you through the walls – but it wasn’t the last.

From that point on it felt like a game that none of you wanted to really acknowledge you were playing. Some days it was you wearing only a shirt and a short with no underwear on as you’ve made breakfast, wanting to know if the sight would make Ashton finally tick. Other times it was him leaving the bathroom door open just a crack as he took a shower in the morning, his voice dangerously close to a moan while humming to himself. It was flirty remarks with double meanings, sentences cut short as they would give away too much, and touches that lingered on too long on knees and shoulders. It was Ashton leaving his shirts all over the place that you would pick up later and steal to sleep in them, always making sure to put them in the hamper before he caught you. Whenever you thought he was already asleep you’ve let your mind and hands wander, not knowing how he listened to your pleasure as he tried his hardest not to go over to your room and take you right then and there. Both of you wanted the same thing – you were just scared to take the necessary steps, not wanting to face the possibility that maybe you have misunderstood something.

Ashton’s been acting strange for weeks, and you started to feel like you may have done something that made him close himself in his office, spending hours on his phone and leaving the house for long periods of time. Then another thought crossed your mind, one that made you want to move out of the house immediately. If Ashton found someone for himself then you didn’t want things to be awkward for any of you – you’ve already spent a good chunk of your year living with him, maybe it was time to finally find your next home somewhere else where you wouldn’t be a third wheel. Again.

But before you could approach him with the question you were dragged away for a quick road trip by your friends, and at least for two days you were able to forget about your feelings and thoughts that all circled around him. The house seemed dark and empty when they’ve dropped you off at home, and you almost asked your girls to let you crash at one of their places as you were sure Ashton was out and most definitely with his mysterious new girlfriend, but they’ve already left the scene, making you look for your keys to enter the house.

What you didn’t expect was the lights turning on the moment you’ve stepped inside, familiar faces cheering and shouting ‘happy birthday’ at you as Ashton tackled you from his place next to the door, hugging you as he bellowed ‘surprise!’, making the both of you giggle. You quickly found out that he’s been organizing your party for weeks now, going out of his way to make it perfect, calling up all of your friends and looking for volunteers to help him get you out of the house until everything was prepared. By the time your road trip team arrived back to the house you were already changed out of your travel clothes, sipping on a glass of champagne and hugging Ashton, thanking him again and again for the amazing surprise.

His smile was wide, eyes sparkling as he pulled you to his chest to dance with him, and for a moment you’ve wished the two of you would be alone so you could kiss him senseless, properly thanking him for all the work he has done. You let your head rest on his shoulder, getting lost in his scent and how he held you, and he pressed a kiss on your temple before announcing that it was time for some birthday cake. You ended up with frosting all over your face, smearing some of it on Ashton and Calum’s cheek before continuing the party which lasted well past midnight.

Ashton wrapped his arm around your waist as he helped you upstairs, both of your tipsy giggles echoing around the house. Most of your friends have already left, but a few were passed out on the couch and fast asleep in the armchairs. He made sure you were put into bed safe and sound, wishing you a happy birthday once again as he closed the door behind himself. Ash stopped before going to his room, thinking about how he wanted to kiss you goodnight, how he wanted to press his lips against yours as one last present for your special day. He shook his head, telling himself that he needed to be sober before making decisions like this, and went to his room to sleep of his drunken haze – confessions can wait a few more hours.

Your eyes opened as you felt the mattress dip next to you, expecting to see Ashton with a cup of coffee, but only finding one of your guy friends asking if you wanted him to stick around and help you clean up after yesterday’s birthday party. You gave him a smile, telling him that he can definitely go home; you and Ashton will deal with the rest once you have woken up. He gave you a hug before leaving your room and in a minute you’ve heard the front door closing, signalling his departure.

You peeled yourself out of bed, throwing on an oversized shirt as you made your way downstairs, ready to see what needed to be done. The first step was definitely coffee, and as you waited for it you started to clean up the plastic cups and plates, collecting and throwing them into a bag. A song from last night got stuck in your head, something you have danced to with Ashton, and you bit your lip as you thought of his warm body wrapped up with yours. You hummed to yourself as you reached for two mugs, deciding that you will be the one bringing coffee for Ashton this morning – and who knows, maybe he will invite you to join him in his bed.

“What, is he gone already?”

Ashton’s gruff voice took you by surprise, and you spun around to face him, unsure of what he’s referring to. He was leaning against the wall, hair sleep mussed and arms crossed over his chest, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked you over.

“I don’t follow,” you shook your head, suddenly feeling small under his stare, and he just huffed.

“Right, cause Greg didn’t just leave your room this morning,” he rolled his eyes, voice full of venom as he spit the name out. “Stop playing around.”

“Well, if you need to know, then yes,” you crossed your arms as well, mirroring him. “He did come in before he left. What, am I not allowed to have friends over, especially ones you have invited? And anyway, are you spying on me?”

“Guess you got what you’ve craved? Did he finally fuck you?” he took a step forward, now towering above you. “I remember you telling me you had a crush on him.”

“Geez, Ash, what is up with you?” you looked at him in disbelief. “That was years ago, why would you bring that up now? And God no! No, he just came to ask if he could help me clean up.”

“Well, then where is he?” he quirked an eyebrow. “Doesn’t seem like he’s into the whole housework thing.”

“I’ve told him we can clean up just fine. You and I. Didn’t want him to get under our feet.”

“Yes, but did he get under something else?” Ashton’s fingers curled into the hem of your shirt, eyes on fire as he tugged you closer. “Maybe he did clean you up…”

“Okay, stop that right now,” you pushed Ashton away, annoyed with his nonsense. “I don’t know what kind of weird stuff you’re talking about or why is this sudden interest in my sex life, and definitely don’t understand this… possessive jealous act. Coffee’s on the counter. Find me when you’ve cooled down.”

You’ve stepped around Ashton, ready to go back upstairs and curl up in your room, trying to make sense of his unexpected mood swings and strange words but you were suddenly pulled back by your shirt and before you knew it you were pushed up against the wall, Ashton pinning you there with his body.

“Stop,” he breathed heavily, fingers curling around your wrists before pulling them above your head. “You stay right here.”

“Or what?” you tilted your head up, looking into his eyes. “You revoke my roommate card?”

“No, I wouldn’t do that,” he shook his head before quickly licking his lips. “But I might make you pay your rent in a different way…”

“Fuck it, I’m done with this,” you huffed as you tugged your hands free from his grasp just to curl your fingers around his jaw, pulling him close and crashing your lips together.

Ashton moaned in your mouth, arms sliding around your waist to pull you closer to him, hands resting on the top of your ass. After months of letting the tension build between the two of you it finally broke, and you let yourself curl into Ashton’s embrace as his tongue licked against your lips, pushing it in to kiss you deeper. You were up on your tiptoes as your hands slid down to his shoulders and over his bare chest, tickling his sides before settling on the sweatpants riding low on his hips, fingertips pushing under the fabric. He chuckled against your lips before taking your wrists again and pulling them back between your bodies.

“Cute,” his tone was playful, voice just above a whisper. “But I have other ideas.”

Before you could ask him what he meant Ashton has already turned you around, pushing you up against the wall again, his body melting against your back. A moan slipped out of you as you felt his hardening cock on your ass, his lips skimming on the back of your neck, teeth lightly nibbling on your skin. He pressed a kiss against your ear, his hot breath making you shiver.

“You sound even more beautiful like this. Not muffled by doors and walls and the hallway.”

“Ash–” his name got stuck in your throat when you felt your skin turn hot as you realized what he was talking about. “Fuck!”

“You want me to do that? Fuck you like I’ve wanted to for months?” he rutted his cock against your ass, and you’ve tried to push back to feel more of him.

“Yes! Please Ashton, just… please… wanted you for so long,” you practically begged him to take you right then and there, and you heard him groan against your neck.

One of his hands slid up your chest to cup your breast over your shirt while the other stroked over your inner thigh, palm curling against your heat. Your panties were already soaked and Ashton let out a satisfied hum as he pushed his fingers under the fabric, drawing slow, soft circles around your clit.

“Do your fingers feel this good?” he nipped at your ear, and you shook your head while trying to move your hips to get more friction. “You sure seemed to like them… sometimes it felt like you’ve been fucking yourself for hours…”

“Been thinking about you… how your fingers would feel inside me…” you licked your lips, hands slipping against the wall as you moved back against him. “How you would feel inside me…”

“Why don’t we find out?” his hand tugged your panties to the side, middle finger running through your wet folds until it circled around your entrance, slowly pushing inside. “Better than your own?”

“I can take much more,” you let out a giggle which immediately turned into a moan as Ashton quickly pushed in another finger. “Fuck, that’s good.”

“Let’s see how much more you can take, pretty girl.”

His fingers started moving in and out of you, quickly finding that sweet spot inside you that made your legs shake and your breaths hitching. His name on your lips mixed with moans and whimpers and fucks as his thumb dragged against your clit, never missing a beat as he pleasured you. One of your hands reached for his, and he interlocked your fingers, holding you close to his body with both of your arms around your middle. Your head was thrown back against his chest, his lips kissing your forehead and murmuring praises as he worked you toward an orgasm.

“Wanna see you cum for me,” Ashton picked up the pace of his fingers and you felt the unmistakable clenching of your walls around them. “Show me how you look when you think of me, baby. Cum on my fingers like you’ve imagined.”

“Ashton, fuck! I’m close…” you whined against his neck, and you felt his thumb rub your clit even harder. “Ash–”

In that moment you’ve chocked on your next moan, your whole body trembling against his as pleasure filled you from head to the tip of your toes. His fingers didn’t let up their work as you clenched around them, making you see stars as another smaller shock ran through your body. You leaned against the wall to collect yourself, moaning as you felt Ashton move right behind you, his fingers still deep in your pussy, slowing down their pace but never pulling out.

“Sensitive…” you whimpered when he swiped his thumb over your swollen clit, your hand reaching for his between your legs to make him pull out.

“Oh no, I wasn’t done with you yet…” he pushed your hand back against the wall with his free one, still lightly stroking in and out of you.

“Fuck, I can’t…” you whined between moans, and he clicked his tongue before kissing your ear, hot words whispered against your skin.

“You seemed to like having multiple orgasms during your play times,” he tugged on your earlobe with his teeth before kissing your jaw. “So this is for all those times I’ve heard you getting off in your room and not being able to do anything about it.”

And with that his fingers picked up the pace again, rubbing and stroking and fucking you, not caring how sensitive you were from your previous orgasm. Your vision blurred, toes curling against the tiles as you felt the next rush of pleasure shaking your body, making Ashton push his cock even more against you while letting you ride out your climax on his fingers.

Your ears were ringing, breasts heaving as you’ve tried to catch your breath while Ashton slowly eased his fingers out of you, holding onto your hips to keep you upright. He pressed a kiss against your neck, tugging on the collar of the shirt to feel more of your skin, teeth lightly biting you, leaving the smallest of marks on your shoulder before he turned you around, making you lean back against the wall. You gave him the smallest of pouts and he chuckled, pressing his lips against yours, softly kissing you while your fingers curled into his hair at the nape of his neck, and his into the side of your panties, tugging them down your legs. Before you knew it he was already on his knees, pushing your shirt up to kiss your stomach, making his way down.

“You can’t be fucking serious…” you clutched at his hair as he pressed his lips lower, nose nudging at your bellybutton.

“Don’t say you didn’t think about me like this,” he looked up at you, hazel eyes sparking with mischief as he licked between your folds, tongue slowly swirling around your clit.

“More times than I could tell,” you tugged on his dark hair, not sure if you wanted him to stop or keep going.

Ashton hummed as he licked you again, fingers running down your thigh before his fingers curled around the back of your knee, pulling your leg over his shoulder. He dived back in, lips and tongue licking and sucking at your pussy, practically making out with it as you moaned and trashed above him. He switched between long strokes and teasing circles around your hole, lips closing around your clit as his fingers slipped back inside you. It was too much and not enough at the same time, and you pulled on his hair as he brought you to your third orgasm. You felt your thighs shake as he put your leg back on the floor, and he quickly stood up to wrap you in his arms, not wanting you to fall over.

“You’re killing me,” you panted against his neck as Ashton squeezed your hips, suddenly picking you up and making his way towards the living room.

“And I’m still not done with you. You’ve been a tease for months, it’s time to give you what you really deserve,” in seconds he pushed you down on the couch, climbing over you before crashing his lips against yours.

There was nothing slow or soft about his moves now, he was a man on a mission as he tugged off your shirt, lips closing around your nipple while he thumbed the other, making them harder and even more sensitive than before. You would have pressed your thighs together if he wasn’t between them, so instead you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer like that. A chuckle left his lips as he pulled back, kneeling up on the couch and looking over your body. Heat crawled up your neck under his gaze, your body on fire, your mind hazy, the only thing you were sure about was that you wanted Ashton right now.

He must have felt the same about you as he quickly got up to kick off his sweatpants, his cock hard and curling against his stomach as he climbed back over you, letting you wrap your hand around his length as he kissed you again. You moaned into each other’s mouths, clearly done with your teasing now, and just wanting to feel what it was like when you let your feelings take over. Ashton pulled your legs back around his waist, elbows resting next to your head as his fingers curled into your hair, knocking his forehead against yours. His eyes were dark and full of something you haven’t seen before, but you found that you wanted to see it again and again. You tilted your head up, brushing your lips against his while guiding his cock against your hole, sighing as he finally pushed in.

Ashton took you with one smooth thrust, his groans filling your ears as he felt your heat wrap around him. He rested his hips against yours only for a second before he started moving, lips latching onto your neck to suck a mark into your skin.

“Fuck, Ash, I won’t last…” you whimpered as his cock hit your sweet spot again and again, your fingers leaving small crescent marks on his biceps as you held onto him.

“Cum again, baby,” he pushed his lips against yours, hips quickly snapping into you. “Cum again and make me cum with you. Show me what I’ve been missing by not fucking you sooner.”

His words triggered your orgasm, your whines muffled against his shoulder as you shook under him, your walls clenching around his cock like you wanted him to stay in you forever. Ashton groaned as he pounded into you a few more times, then suddenly his body tensed above you, his cock buried deep inside your pussy as his cum filled you up. He pressed chaste kisses on your cheek and lips before pulling out of you and you whined at the loss of his body heat. He shushed you, his voice sweet as he told you he will be back in a second, and then you’ve lost sight of him.

You were pretty sure you have blacked out for some time from the intense orgasms you just had because the next thing you knew was Ashton in his sweatpants, a washcloth in his hand as he softly cleaned you up. He helped you back in your shirt, rubbing his nose against yours as he said something about how you have to be careful before standing up. You clearly didn’t listen to him because the next time he came back you were already lying on the floor, giggling about how clumsy you are. Ashton shook his head before kneeling down next to you, reaching for a pillow to put it under your head, and when he was done, he crawled over you, slowly resting his body against yours, his head on your breasts.

“This was… something…” you let your fingers run through his hair, and he nodded, burrowing closer to you.

“Y/N?” he slowly looked up at you, eyes back to their soft hazel colour, and you felt your heart beating just a little quicker than before.

“Yeah?” you bit your lip, suddenly unsure of what Ashton’s next words would be.

“I guess I do need to ask you to stop being my roommate,” he pushed himself up and over you, resting his weight on his arms next to your head.

“I– uhm… I mean, of course, it’s your house and…” you started babbling, but Ashton quickly shook his head, a smile pulling at his lips.

“No, God no!” he leaned forward to press his lips against yours, silencing you with a kiss. “Silly girl. No, I want you to move out of the guest bedroom and into mine. Can’t have you moaning my name across the hallway when you could do it in my bed instead.”

“Ashton Irwin, you’re the most terrible roommate ever,” you huffed out a laugh, your cheeks hot from your blush and his kiss. “You really want me to…”

“Yes. A 100% yes. I would have offered months ago, but I… guess I wasn’t sure about where we stood…” he confessed, knocking his forehead against yours while he rubbed your nose with his. “Didn’t want to ruin our friendship because I started to have feelings for you.”

“Better late than never, I guess,” you cupped his face in your palms, thumbs rubbing his cheeks lovingly. “Did you really get jealous of Greg?”

“God, he ticked me off, didn’t he?” he moaned, face heating up from the memory. “I saw him leaving your room, but didn’t remember seeing him going in, and then you were only wearing a shirt and those panties and I just… I had this thought last night how I want to finally kiss you and tell you how I feel, and then he was there and I’ve thought…”

“There’s only you, Ash,” now it was your turn to press your lips against his. “Don’t need anyone else when I have the best roommate/creative partner/body pillow/shirt supplier/chef/party planner/possible boyfriend all in one package.”

“Would definitely love to be the boyfriend,” he chuckled, fingers tangling into your hair.

“Guess I could upgrade my roommate membership to girlfriend too?” you quirked an eyebrow at him and Ashton started giggling, nuzzling close again.

“For you it’s entirely free, sweetheart.”

- - - - -

taglist.

@mymindwide @loveroflrh @sadistmichael @notinthesameguey @babylonashton @talkfastromance4 @dead-and-golden @fuckyeah5sostakemehome @karajaynetoday @ashtondaddy90 @myfavfanficsever @myloverboyash @suchalonelysunflower @sexgodashton @rebelwith0utacause @creampiecashton @irwinkitten @allthestarsandthemoon

#ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin blurb #fiction time #littledrummeraussie 1k celebration #asks: fiction edition #1K fic #afic: 1K celebration

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mage-and-the-tantrums · 3 years

Text

The Courage of Letting Go

My project had crashed yet again. My laptop is telling me in all the possible languages that my hard drive is dying, and that I need to replace it soon. Yet I still ask +10 hours out of it daily. All I have left to do is reboot, see all of my data get wiped out, reinstall, reconfigure, wait and hope for the best. Again, again, again, until the green lines in my console numb my already half-asleep brain.

5:45AM. Early morning breeze is refreshing, birds are chirping annoyingly, I try to remember the last time I was able to really breath-in a morning, when I had a proper sleep schedule. I carefully navigate the labyrinths of what they might think or say, and plan accordingly. I realize that simplicity is the ultimate sophistication, and that silence is indeed a divine language that I gladly speak.

25 imaginary conversations, one rant to my mom and 2 of my other friends, 3 weeks of self-inflicted isolation, and yet it still does feel right, in every possible aspect. I feel as if a burden had been cast from my back. I feel very light, and kind of excited for the unknown that would fill the void of what has been there. That huge chunk I orbited around for so long had finally pushed me a little bit too hard, into an open space suspension. In fact, it has been pushing me away for quite some time, but only equal to my desire to stay. Those forces eventually negated each other, and I stayed in inertia, comfortably numb, orbiting around a ruined star I thought was one of my riches.

We are creatures of habit. We are always afraid of change, and we prefer it would be inevitable and outside of our control. If change was inevitable, we would let it come to us rather than seeking it, even when we desperately need it. The human brain always sides with the known, within the confines of the familiar. We cling into relationships, belongings, countries, jobs, that are hurting us more than we could ever imagine. And yet we fail to realize that we are suffering directly because of those. And so letting go seems like a funny, extremely dark thought that one should never act upon it. Letting go does not even cross our minds for most of the time.

But some things do not require change. We value longevity, we identify with rituals and we appreciate sanctuaries. Places or people we go to regularly, and come running back towards when the world is unfair. Friends, family, romantic relationships, motherland, hometown. In fact these should not change at all costs, naturally and ideally, as they join to form our identity.

However, these deeply rooted landmarks should be questioned regularly. It's not because that one cannot change or disregard their family that we should put up with their toxicity for example. One should be brave enough to seek change in the forbidden "longevity" department I was talking about earlier, if change is required. One should take the leap of faith, and have the courage to break their own heart. One should listen to the deep voice within when it tells them to leave.

In my case, I had been among this gang of friends for 8 years or so now. We have been through a lot, and I thought I had a safe haven in which I could be simply me, and still feel loved and cared for. Being with my gang always meant recharge and safety, for quite some time.

As I went abroad for education, our relationships suffered heavily from the stress-test of distance. It was very clear to me that I mean nothing to them, and that they see nothing past the things I could offer: rides, professional advice, help with writing a CV, help with a university course, and so on. I soon discovered that they go out without me, systematically and on so many occasions, that I am kept away from their lives and that my struggles mean nothing but something to make fun of, collectively (yes, they mocked me openly once for falling in love with someone who later decided to marry someone else).

The thing that kept me going back to them is them being part of home, being part of something I achingly longed for when I was expatriated, and so I never thought twice before running back to them. My expectations surely lowered to rock-bottom, but I still invested my time and energy unto the gang.

Being back home once again has cast a very big light unto everything in my life. Now I can see very clearly that I am a mere decor, and that people call me only for my car or just to fill the space and not be completely alone. When they ask about some detail in my life, their questions hit me as mixed with a little bit of spite and envy. Maybe I am wrong on this last point, but I would not be surprised. It's no longer a serene sanctuary, it is a toxic tar pit.

The courage of letting go is a mystical force that descends, and suddenly everything is clear. Being honest with yourself is crucial for you to feel this. Once you open your gates, the voice of your gut that has been muffled for years is now a limpid, comforting sound. The courage of letting go is a force that once armed, should not be disregarded. The courage of letting go is another form of acceptance, a blessing.

You should not put up with a toxic friend or relative. You should not do something that does not make you feel good just because you're afraid what else is there for you. What if I cut loose my friends ? what will happen then ? No one knows, and quite frankly, it is exciting to get that space filled up by literally anything else.

This is not a piece of writing that would end with "maybe I am wrong after all". I have given every benefit; of doubt, of love, of affection, of temporary loss of interest, of casual indifference, of good intention. Not once, not twice. It has been years. And maybe it was not like this all the time. Maybe we changed. But I know for sure that I am better off without all of them. I know now that I had been exploited for the past years, and I know I represent nothing for all of them. I am not dumb to not realize when I am shoved away and made fun off systematically by people who are not necessarily better than me in any aspect. This feels like an echo of my early teenage years when I was bullied. That period also ended when I decided to stand up for myself because no one else did. I wrote a big-ass message and I cut all my ties with them. How ironically and sometimes stupidly history repeats itself.

I am glad I now have a wider perspective, and that now I accept the sight of you in my rear-view mirror getting further and further until you're an infinitesimal, irrelevant dot. A sight that has been silently hurting me for years. I always put that under the tab of my over-sensitivity as you would say, you being the expert know-it-all-even-psychoanalysis. I lowered my expectations, I doubted myself, I made myself believe what you thought of me, I asked less and less of you, while you took more and more. Time, effort, attention, consideration, ...

Now you're yesterday news, and I wish for you all the best on your journey, and for our paths to untangle and never ever cross again. Thanks for the memories, and thanks for the pain.

"Joy might visit us unexpectedly, set up the candles it might pass by us spray the way with tears Oh, my heart, where is your sorrow? I hid it away from the joy's path you keep whining you wail with tears of a distressed But this is a mere illusion, too high in heavens Take care not not shout sorrowfully, as sorrow can be heard." - Aziz Al-Samawi (sung by Ilham Al-Madfai : Khuttar)

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willowistic22 · 4 years

Text

Compulsive redfinch (Acne prone! Albert) headcanons!!!

So yes, this will be some hardcore self projection mini (??? idk how long this will be) compulsive headcanon but i don’t care I need something like this right now. Having acne prone skin has ruined my self image, but today i will turn those insecurities into headcanons bcs idk how to deal with them the healthy and proper way :D and you guys should know better that i would self project on my fav ship so yeah, here, have some random redfinch stuff for the night. you will be getting some skin positivity related redfinch headcanons whether yall like it or not!

Will i write this into a proper one shot? most likely but idk so i’m not promising anything yknow

Albert has acne prone skin ever since puberty first hit him (about the age of thirteen). It used to be all over his face, mostly his forehead, and sometimes on his neck, back, and chest.

Some kids like to poke fun out of it, with no means to bully him but his feelings still get hurt and has made him grow up to be very insecure. Not only in his looks, but just Albert being himself in general

All his friends (the newsies) will defend him to no end. Not to say that he can’t fight, it’s just hard punching people when your head is beating yourself up too. Other occasions, his eyes gets watery a bit too quick to be able to punch a straight line.

Race, Spot, and Hotshot defends him the most bcs they are his best friends :D

It’s one thing when other ppl insult him. It’s a whole other ppl when parents do it. Most of his friends don’t really know abt that but Race, Spot, Hotshot, Davey, and Jack does.

He’s the only one in his family that has shown signs of having acne prone skin since an early age. His father and two older brothers doesn’t. His mother does but the symptoms didn’t start until she first got pregnant.

Albert’s mother is hell bent on tryin to clear his skin. And both his parents have indirectly called him ugly and disgusting. It always hurts Albert the most when it came from his parents.

It has ruin his self image so bad to the point he has accepted his faith that he’ll be single forever. Until Finch Cortez happened.

Albert knew Finch since high school. By then, his skin has gotten slightly clearer but it wasn’t ‘clear’ enough. Albert can’t deny how attractive he thought Finch was when he first got a one on one interaction with him and he felt quite embarrassed bcs at the time he forgot to do his nightly skincare routine the day before which resulted in more pimples and dry skin than usual.

Finch was charming and mysterious on the surface. But what made Albert crush on him was what’s under the surface. A caring, bold, passionate, soft, and surprising person emerged and Al was head over heels for this boy.

He could only dream of having someone like him to be his boyfriend. So naturally, in sophomore year, he was surprised when Finch asked him out on a date in the middle of a Monday. Albert tried his absolute best to make his skin appear as presentable as possible, telling Finch that he’s only free on Friday bcs he needed to make a skincare appointment the day before.

And then there was the second date, since the first one was declared as a success. Then the third, the forth, and the fifth. Albert thought he was dreaming. Their dates were sooooo cute. (if i try to elaborate it will make this longer and also requires more energy and so i decide not to)

On the sixth, Finch was for sure he wants them to be in a committed relationship. Al was unsure because despite after six dates he still believes that his faith is to be single forever.

After hearing his explanation, Finch explained how handsome he thought Albert was and Al pulled him into a kiss bcs no one has ever called him handsome before. (akjdfaljkfblkjsfmcjkhfjlkscghjsh)

Since they’re in high school, they just do the ‘go with the flow’ sorta relationship. Whatever happens will happen and whatever feels right will feel right. That relationship actually continued on even after high school. (till marriage actually :)))))

Like abt a year or so in their relationship, Albert brought Finch home for the first time. His brothers knew that Al has a boyfriend named Finch (when his brothers are home they do a lot of catching up and basically never keep secrets and all) but has never met him. His parents had no idea he has a boyfriend in the first place, or the fact that he was gay.

So Al’s like, ‘surprise i’m gay, i’ve been dating this guy for about a year, and he’s going to eat dinner with us tonight :)’, and his parents are like, ‘oh........ okay.......’ (this was his compulsive decision to bring Finch home one day after school)

His family likes Finch instantly. They had a peaceful dinner. Until his mom mentioned what Albert looked like in middle school and just downright embarrassing his son in front of his boyfriend.

Al didn’t say or do anything. He just sits there, trying to ignore her reading a list of all the things Albert hates about himself. Finch noticed his silence and, in the most respectful way, defended his boyfriend.

Finch knew about Al’s insecurity ever since that sixth date but never knew what happened at home. So now he carefully watches his boyfriend. Anytime he picks up body language that indicates he’s feeling bad about himself, he will be sure to be there to remind Albert how handsome he is.

Finch would kiss the textured parts of his skin that he hates and Albert would blush and giggle and get all soft. He reminds Albert how handsome he is. Some days Albert actually believes it himself.

Finch loves caressing Albert’s textured skin. One of his many love languages towards the boy. There are other times when Al felt bad abt himself and didn’t like the hand touches, so Finch diverts it by intertwining their fingers.

When Finch catches Albert staring at a mirror for too long while focusing on one of his huge pimples, Finch will remind him how handsome he is. Al would laugh, seeing Finch being all sweet while tugging on his arm and move on from the mirror.

So Finch has memorized Al’s skincare routine. Sometimes he does it with him and by the end of it all they’d be wearing Korean sheet masks in Al’s bed and watching some movies while bundled up in a blanket and cuddling. Snacks will come after the sheet masks are taken off. (yus very soft much fluff can you tell that i’m pining?)

When they’re in college, they became roommates in their college dorm. Sometimes Albert comes home too tired or too drunk to do his skincare routine so Finch does it for him.

He earns hundreds of face kisses the next morning.

In short: Finch loves every part of Albert. In time, Al has learnt how to love himself. He’ll still continue to do his skincare routine but he’s okay with his textured skin. t h e e n d

#oh yes #it's pining hours bro #pining for clear skin #pining for a boyfriend just as sweet as finch #whoop we love that #anyways brb crying in the corner now #come join me :D #redfinch #redfinch newsies #newsies #albert dasilva #finch cortez #random writing #i will probably write a oneshot #but for now have a super long headcanon #tw bullying #well kinda

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twisted-fun-funny-stories · 4 years

Note

can I please request headcanon for Kalim,Vil,riddle and Leona with a female s/o who love the theater and preforming

This one was a bit tough because I myself do not have any experience in acting or theatre so I am going mainly based on what I remember from high school. Hope I did this correctly

Kalim Al-Asim

He loves that you are more outgoing and how much work you are willing to put in to ensure the play is a success

As an outgoing person himself that loves to express himself, he likes to have someone with a similar type of energy as him

He still remembers the first time you were on stage in a play

You were playing the heroine, a princess who only wanted to be set free from the chains of society and be themselves

He felt every emotion you went through and even realized that you were adlibbing some of the lines to make it fit the scene more

He loves your acting and he also loves that you went though every single line with tons of passion

The first time you two met face to face was when after the play, he ran up to you, shaking your hand and praising your acting

“I loved your acting! OMG! It was so great that I…I can’t even put into words! Anyways, if you want to hang out some time, come to my party! I’ll treat to rides on magic carpets and camels and also a ton of delicious food!”

He was all over the place (my poor boi got too excited)

But you decided to take up on his invite and you never regretted it

Ever since he always come to your plays and in return, you would go to his parties

The one time that you asked him to help you rehearse, you kinda regretted it because he had a hard time taking it seriously

He would either smile or laugh too much in the middle of a line or have a hard time acting sad or serious

That was probably the first time you scolded him directly because of it

But at least you know that he can always play the comedic relief sidekick when you needed him to because you know Kalim is at his best when he smiles and having fun

Vil Schoenheit

He adores that you always give your best on every performance you put on

From the makeup and the costumes to when you act on stage in front of tons of people, he can always see that you take acting seriously and that you were passionate about it

He remembers that the first time he saw your acting, you were reenacting a sad scene where the lover dies in front of you

He could care less about his eyeliner not being perfect from the tears he shed from watching you cry as you held your lover in your hands with tears running down your cheek

As you say every single line with the right amount of sadness and frustration from your supposed lover dying in your arms, Vil felt his heart break slightly

Which is the main goal of an actor is to get the emotions across in the most convincing way possible

He came up to you after the play, kissing your hand as he got on one knee and giving you a charming smile the essence of a prince character

“Your performance was one of the best I have ever seen. I never get to see actresses like you with so much passion and with grace.”

Whenever you were free, Vil always takes you to the Pomefiore dorm to teach you some makeup tips and recommend you some beauty products

With a side of warnings like “An actress always has to make sure they look like they are at their best condition” or “Never let your guard down, your beauty is one of the most important things to look after”

He also became in charge of your costumes, claiming that these old-fashioned costumes conceal the beautiful actress you are

In which he likes to design a lot of feminine clothing that match your figure and colors that match your complexion and makeup (with his own quirks in there too)

You also realize that he is also a good acting partner if you ever needed help in rehearsing

probably because you guys have that dramatic beauty queen vibe

Your heart always skips a beat whenever he plays the prince, not only because he is quite handsome (and he knows firsthand that he is) but also the way he projects his voice and the character’s personality is close to perfect

Ever play he attends to your plays, he will always wait for you with a bouquet of roses in his hand and treats you to a spa day for all the hard work you put in

Also he doesn’t tell you that he goes to all of your plays, even if he had seen it dozens of times because that’s how much he loves your acting

Riddle Roseheart

Similar to Vil, he appreciates your passion towards theatre and acting

Although he may not share the exact passion you have, he likes how you work hard towards something you really like

He saw your first performance when you were Alice from Alice in Wonderland

Not only he loved the way you looked in the classic blue dress she wore but also how you were able to catch her curiosity through the way you interacted with each character

In his eyes, you were the only person fit to play as Alice

After the play, he came up to you with a small smile on his face

“Your performance was fantastic, I can see that you are passionate about it and I am quite pleased.”

Ever since, Riddle often invites to little tea parties where you guys just chat away with very little regard to time

Often during these chats, he makes small references to the plays you do, including Alice in Wonderland character lines where in return you respond with your character’s lines

“I can’t go back to yesterday because I was a different person then” (Alice in Wonderland Quote)

When he had the time, he will come to your plays in secret, making sure that you are not aware that he is there only because he would not like to let you know that he comes to every single play you are in

He is the type of person that if the play is based on the book, then he will go get the book to better understand the play

Or if it’s based on a movie, he would buy the movie and watch it, making note of plot and character development

Sometimes he even goes to say that either the play did not include too many of the famous lines from the book or the play did not really follow the plot as much as he wanted

But he never downplays your acting as he always states that you’re acting is perfect as ever, but rather it’s the lines or the script that do ruin it a bit

When you have a hard time grasping the character, Riddle is very good at summarizing the feelings of the situation or how the characters would react

“I think you should act more surprised here as she is not aware of the current situation. Also, when you are walking in, make note of the position of your feet. You are a proper royal lady, so you must walk like one.”

Although he will not act with you (mainly because he’s embarrassed of the difference in talent) he will be your director if you need help rehearsing, making sure you are following the script correctly

It gotten to a point where you recommend him to assist in directing if he had read the book to the play you are doing

But be warned, he tends to be a bit bossy because he just things to be perfect, but he does know when he has gone too far and will stop before it gets to that state

Leona Kingscholar

Okay initially he is not a fan (probably because he is reminded of Vil, which he is not a big fan of because they’re polar opposites)

However, he changed his mind when he happen to see you at a play being taken place in the courtyard

At first he was annoyed that the music and the actors were being too loud for him to take a nap so he decided to watch a little bit of it to see if it was worth his time

When he saw you on stage, he couldn’t take his eyes of you

The way you acted on stage is different from the other actors on stage

You have a bit of fire inside you and he really like that

One day at school, he recognized you in the halls, talking to someone and he decide to talk to you

He leaned against the wall and waited behind you until he got noticed, in which when you turned around

You were surprised to see the dorm leader of Savanaclaw with a small smirk on his face

“Eh…so you are (y/n). I saw a bit of your performance yesterday and I must say that it’s rare to find me impressed with something.”

From then on, he would go watch your plays in secret and hang out with you outside of school when he can

He NEVER tells you that he actually watched the entire play but he would say that he got to see the iconic parts where you were in it

But you find out he was lying when one day he let it slip when you were talking about the play

For that one day, there was a problem with the lights, so it took time to fix it in the beginning, which results in delays

You were complaining about it to Leona in which Leona just nodded to show that he was listening and responded with,

Leona: “Yea, that was a disappointment, honestly they should check beforehand.”

(y/n): “But didn’t you say that you only got to watch from the middle of the play?”

Leona: “…” (got caught)

You couldn’t hide your smirk when you caught Leona in his lies and always make remarks about the time he let it slip big time

You are aware that acting is not up Leona’s alley, so you try to keep conversations about it to a minimum

But Leona reassures you that he is fine with you talking about it because he kinda likes when you go off into a long conversation about acting and theatre (as long as it’s not an everyday thing)

It reminds him of the fire he saw in you when he first saw you perform on stage and subtly encourages you to keep up with it

Though he does appreciates when you don’t babble on about a topic he particularly is not good with (*cough* *cough* Vil with makeup and fashion *cough*)

#twisted wonderland #headcanon #vil schoenheit #leona kingscholar #riddle rosehearts #kalim al asim #female reader

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clansayeed · 4 years

Text

Things Worth Keeping, or the Annual Raines Corp. Fourth of July Charity Gala

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil)

⥼ Summary ⥽

Kamilah takes great care in preserving some of the more sentimental articles of clothing she's acquired over the years. Nadya realizes she might have a historical costume kink.

word count: 2,775 rating: teen+ content warnings: language, brief political discourse, implied sexual undertones, implied kink

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

So it turns out every time there’s an event that requires Kamilah’s attendance (specifically requires, since the Awakening Ball was both some weird vampire-political obligation and her wanting to see Marcel again) the mannequins come out.

Only for costume events though.

Or… she’s decided ‘every’ just because what are the chances she’s lucky enough to behold the sight of Kamilah Sayeed in period wear twice in one year? Apparently very good, very good indeed.

The vampire takes it upon herself to explain while fussing with a few collars and sleeves rumpled in transit. Nadya takes it upon herself to listen intently — takes everything in her willpower not to take notes. “Indeed one comes to terms rather early on that all objects are replaceable and their worth is only what the owner projects upon them,” which is quite a lot judging by the little smile Nadya sees peeking at the corner of Kamilah’s lips as she works, “and because I have had the misfortune of losing things I once coveted, I see no harm in preserving that which has stayed with me.”

Nadya adjusts her seat on the couch; makes sure the lid on her travel mug is secure otherwise she’ll never be allowed to drink in the front room again. “Is that a really fancy way of saying ‘I think it’s really pretty and I want to keep it that way?’”

Kamilah goes still. Not the tense kind of still that makes Nadya want to stuff her words back in her mouth but the kind of still she’s come to understand will reap very wise rewards. If she’s patient enough.

She’s learning to be patient enough.

“I suppose if you wish to bring the sentiment down to the simplest terms… yes.”

And oh man even that little agreement has Nadya buzzing excited.

“I’m so excited — this is gonna be so much fun!”

“What it will be, Nadya, is a gross exaggeration more akin to a serial drama than the real thing.”

“Wow, grumpy pants. Where’s your sense of patriotism?”

“In the same gutter as the ideals on which this nation was founded.”

Okay, fair point. But that brings up a very good series of questions all scrambling to make themselves heard. Which goes about as well as it always does and leaves Nadya tongue-tied and mute.

More than a few times Kamilah throws subtle looks in Nadya’s direction. Totally discreet and casual — done while circling a dress here, adjusting a cravat there. And each time she asks some variation of “Are you sure this is how you wish to spend your evening?” Nadya gives her the same answer.

“There’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.”

The final time Kamilah is just close enough to turn crisp on her heel and bring them face to face. Her deep honey eyes roam Nadya’s face and spare no detail; like she’s one of those pretty dresses Kamilah’s kept after all these years.

It makes Nadya feel small and big, whole down to the tips of her toes but also just a sliver in Kamilah’s long long life. Which is a lot to feel for someone of her size. Maybe too much.

Cool, soft lips on her forehead force Nadya to open eyes she didn’t know she was squeezing shut. No longer scrutinizing, now the vampiress allows them both a rare glimpse behind the mask. To the concern she guards close and reserves for those she cares about.

Adrian, Gerard, Marcel… Nadya.

She cares about me that way. Holy cow.

“You truly mean that.” Kamilah says and it isn’t a question. Kamilah isn’t in the business of asking stupid questions to which she knows the answers — that’s Nadya’s ball game.

“Of course I do.”

“Forgive my surprise.”

“Always.”

It’s just a kiss. People kiss all the time, all over the world. But those people aren’t Nadya and they aren’t kissing Kamilah so they couldn’t possibly know how wonderful and important and loved each one makes her feel.

Along with all the other things that make her squeak when they part. It’s impossible to miss that look in Kamilah’s gaze.

“While I enjoy your company immensely Nadya… I may have to ask you to leave,” even though the trace of her finger over Nadya’s lips kind of contradicts that, “as I do have to attend a conference call before the night is through.”

Nadya doesn’t even care that her pout is a little childish. “I thought you took the day off for this.”

“I took a half day for this. You were the one who insisted on losing an entire night’s productivity to help me choose my attire.”

“I’ll be quiet?” There’s no harm in trying, right? Thankfully Kamilah still seems more amused than anything.

“You misunderstand.”

Does she, though, because there are only so many ways to take the sudden closeness. Kamilah’s hands braced atop the back of the couch pinning Nadya between the cushion and her permanence, the contradictory darkness in her bright eyes with their lowered lashes, and oh my god that smirk…

Then Kamilah’s leaning in to whisper in her ear and she’s just—just jello, absolute jello. “I had hoped to be finished by now, yet I keep finding myself distracted.”

Jello or not though Nadya will always be Nadya.

“I—I can leave, if… if that’s what you want.” I know work is important to you. I know schedules are important to you even though your organizational methods are outdated and frankly anxiety-inducing. I know you have a lot to get done and only so many hours of moonlight to do it…

Kamilah doesn’t answer. Instead just taps the underside of Nadya’s chin with her pointer finger and gives a smile in reward when the human lifts her head obediently.

“What do you want, Nadya?”

You know what I want, she would normally say, but if she did then all their… all their training would be for nothing. And don’t memories of that (as recent as, uhm, three in the afternoon today) make her zone out somewhere over Kamilah’s shoulder.

Seven mannequins; still headless, still creepy. Four beautiful ballgowns and a priceless Egyptian kalasiris†, a definitely custom-tailored zoot suit, and…

Holy broad stripes and bright stars.

“I asked you a question.”

Oh yeah, she’s definitely wearing that.

Kamilah doesn’t have to remind her twice. Nadya leans forward what little she can; basks shamelessly in the one thing in the entire world she knows she’s earned—

The way Kamilah looks at her with absolute pride.

“You. I want you.”

Its so fulfilling to see all her hard work come together in one place, on one night, and with the promise of fireworks to come. There’s just something about fireworks. She loves ‘em.

Jax lets out his fifth heavy and long-suffering sigh of the minute. A personal best, but Nadya’s having too much fun to ruin the night by telling him.

Unfortunately her hoop skirt makes it hard to sidle up for a hip-check. Cue sigh number six.

“You know I’m technically the hostess for this thing, right?”

“Are you saying you’re the person I complain to?”

She huffs. “No, I’m saying that your grumpy face is personally offending me.”

She can’t tell if he’s purposefully avoiding her eyes out of spite or shame — then a roaring yelp of laughter from the dance floor draws Nadya’s attention out to where Lily and Maricruz spin fast-paced and free; held together by just their hands and their shared looks of ‘I couldn’t care less where I am so long as it’s with you.’

At least that gets a little smile out of Mr. Grumpy-Pants.

A costumed server stops at the pair of them and offers his tray of goodies up like sin. Nadya spares two quick glances over either shoulder — thankfully Adrian has donors to schmooze and Kamilah hasn’t arrived yet — before she plucks a cheese cube carved in the shape of the Liberty Bell.

But it isn’t enough that Jax has to act so unhappy the entire gala — now he’s stealing her snack and eating it himself?! Where’s my purse, where’s my stake?!

What else can she do but gape? He doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed, just chews and chews and swallows while trying to ease the itch in his legs caused by the borrowed hose.

“Lily warned me you might make bad choices.”

So what? I’m a grown woman, I can make bad choices if I want to. “Are all of you in on some big conspiracy to keep me from cheese?”

“If it’ll spare you future pain, yeah.” Which — she wasn’t expecting that. Nadya can’t help but feel her face soften. One look down her way though and he rolls his eyes. “Stop it.”

“You hate my party. You steal my cheese. What’s next, burning my crops and delivering a plague onto my house?”

Jax looks appalled — which is a real shame. That would have gone over so well with Lily. “I—what?!”

Nadya just waves it off though. “Forget it. Just…” oh hey look, time for her own sigh, “forget it.”

“It’s not you. It’s these tights.”

“They’re hose.”

“They itch.”

“Imagine wearing them all the time.”

Nadya is totally enjoying her frilly not-period-accurate-in-the-slightest ensemble but of course Adrian is the only one who looks really right in his whole get up. It’s a good thing he has to wear modern suits and styles or else he’d be pegged for a vampire right away.

Her boss pulls her in for a one-armed hug, expertly outmaneuvering the skirt but he probably has experience with that, huh? And his smile only widens as he takes in Jax in all his colonial glory.

“They were good in the winter, obviously. Though I’ll admit once I didn’t feel the weather anymore the discomfort really presented itself as a problem.”

Jax just rolls his eyes. “Why do I feel like you throw this thing just to say shit like that?” Which— she can tell he’s trying to be sarcastic but Adrian definitely goes tense beside her.

“I ‘throw this thing,’ as you say, because my own personal wealth can only go so far, and most of it is immaterial. But every donation is material, and that maximizes the good I can do with it.”

Nadya nods eagerly. “There’s like six different scholarships in STEM research alone, I think a dozen in the business sector, and when we get to our goal tonight —” she knows they will, Raines Corp. history states they always do and Raines Corp. never had her to push them above and beyond, “— the company’ll have enough to match the city’s bid for the abandoned tunnel reconstruction project.”

If he ever read the minutes she sent him after every Council meeting he’d know this, but when Jax said he didn’t do paperwork he meant he really didn’t do paperwork.

But it’s enough to get his attention. “And what happens then?”

Adrian shrugs. “I postpone it. The most I can do without getting politicians involved is five years but I figure… that should be long enough to either relocate the former Clanless and break even, or fortify the Shadow Den enough that any efforts won’t cause structural damage. Unfortunately Vega’s interim replacement hasn’t officially made her views on such things known, but I think with time —”

It’s—as Lily would put it—freakin’ cinematic. How Adrian’s voice fades away to a buzzing in her ears and Jax’s reply sounds like a mouthful of cotton. The music dims and the lights aren’t as bright except where they fall on her when she strides through the open double doors.

Now let it be known that Nadya firmly believes Kamilah looks amazing in anything. Her power suits, a crimson dress from centuries gone, the plum kimono she uses as a nightgown… Honestly she’d probably somehow make a banana costume look sinfully sexy.

No. What? No. Moving on.

And even though Nadya knew the moment she laid eyes on the uniform it was the non-negotiable choice — her brain put some weird filter on itself to keep her from imagining just what that looked like. Probably to try and keep her sane.

Because the real thing… there are literally no words.

Adrian’s laugh comes both from behind her and a million miles away. “Would you look at that. Now that is a sight that brings back memories.”

“Wow, color me surprised.” Jax deadpans.

Adrian is a close personal friend of the New York Historical Reenactment Society (surprisingly not a bunch of vampires… if there was ever a group suspect but no, she’s checked) and most of them are in attendance tonight. They make Nadya look like her dress—a gift from Adrian, rental only—was bought at a cheap pop-up Halloween store.

And Kamilah makes them look like a middle school theatre cast. There’s just something about the fabric, the way it fits her and the way she carries not just the uniform but her own body inside of it that makes her look authentic. No one would believe her; not with the freshly-oiled leather and polished brass buttons, but Nadya’s chaotic-dumb brain really wants to scream “take a look at the real deal, ya posers!”

Kamilah’s hand rests on the glossy hilt of her saber as she approaches. Eyes passing right over Adrian — probably used to the sight — and sparing Jax absolute no dignity in the soft “ha” she gives.

“I didn’t know we could wear uniforms.”

Kamilah raises an eyebrow and tucks a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. “You… have one?”

“No,” sigh number seven, “but I would’ve tried to find one. Anything to get out of these tights.”

“They were useful during winter.”

Adrian laughs and gestures to her eagerly. “That’s what I said!”

Kamilah wasn’t ignoring her, not on purpose. That’s made obvious the second she finally does take in every skirt and frill, every pearl in her necklace and lets her eyes linger where Nadya’s chest heaves against her corset.

“Nadya, you look as beautiful as ever.” Then Kamilah takes her hand and kisses the back of it with a soldier’s courteous bow. Where’d I leave that dumb lace fan…?

She’s about 99.9% sure Kamilah holding her hand is the only thing keeping her standing right now.

Adrian snickers. Nadya couldn’t care less. “Careful there, General Sayeed††. Your lady seems about to swoon.”

Thankfully the woman takes heed and pulls Nadya close, possibly the most public affection they’ve ever had holy crap on a cracker, resting a hand on the curve of her hip. Yet she looks at Adrian with… what is that, mild annoyance?

“You know very well I was not named General until nearly a century later.”

Jax mouths his silent counting — blanches; “You were a General in the Civil War? You know what — of course you were.”

“A discussion for another day, perhaps.” Kamilah dismisses him just shy of pushing him out the door; lucky for Nadya both he and Adrian take the hint and fade into the cinematic background.

It’s just Nadya and Kamilah now.

“Hello.”

“H-Hi.”

Long fingers brush a strand of Nadya’s hair aside feather-light. “You do look… stunning, Nadya. You look stunning. Blue becomes you yet again.”

Blue? She’s wearing blue? Because her face is scarlet. “You — I mean — wow like…” words Nadya — words, “you really wore that and…” And fought in it?

Kamilah’s nod is curt. “In a sense. My skills were best suited to espionage, sabotage and the like.”

“Of course they were.”

“Though I’m gladdened to know the uniform still becomes me.”

As if it ever wouldn’t. “You look perfect in, like, everything.” But Kamilah’s not a fan of those kinds of blanket statements, so she tries again a little bit more from the heart. “You make a uniform look really good, that’s what I mean.”

The hand on her hip presses down then; important and as on purpose as everything else Kamilah does. Through the fabric right underneath her hand a familiar purpling not-at-all-bruise sings sweet on Nadya’s skin. Of course Kamilah knows where the love bite is. She was the one who gifted it.

“I may be the soldier…” Kamilah pulls her close; a hold of stone — she leans down to ghost a kiss at Nadya’s jaw (and knows it will drive her wilder than wild) and whisper in her ear.

“But you’ll be the one taking orders.”

Nadya’s last coherent thought?

She really needs to find more chances to get Kamilah in costume.

NOTE: While this fic technically exists in the Oblivion Bound universe it works standalone as well, I think. The only references are brief and to Maricruz Espinoza, a vampire original character and girlfriend of Lily, and a sort-of reference to the fact that Marcel survived in my fanfiction. Hopefully it still reads well!

#bloodbound #kamilah x mc #kamilah sayeed #adrian raines #playchoices fanfiction #; my fics #mc: nadya al jamil #jax matsuo

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kittenfemme27 · 3 years

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Batman: Arkham Origins Blackgate

So, at this point, its a pretty cold take to say that Batman could address the crime related problems of Gotham City by funding development programs, education, and other social programs that would help "criminals" get on the right path. That Gotham Citys notorious Villains wouldn't even be motivated to be such huge and over the top personalities if it wasn't for the fact they had an equally huge personality with which to combat each others Narcissistic Personality Disorders against. That Gotham City, for all its faults, would be a better place without Batman ever having stepped foot in it, and that Batman is honestly just a little bit of a crypto fascist. Everyone's said it, or at least thought it, and everyone's pretty much in agreement that it's true to some extent or another.

Except DC, of course, who continue to make millions pushing Batman as the one true and only good savior of the ailing city. Who continues to make comic after comic showcasing the various villains become near caricatures of themselves as they get more and more cartoonishly evil to foil batmans plans, while bruce himself gets more and more wise to the point of being a near omnipotent God who has accounted for each and every possibility in the entire universe. This personification of the Dark Knight is very important to DC, and while they attempt to sometimes show Bruces "philanthropy" within the comics, they often somehow exacerbate just how much of a problem it is that Bruce and Waynecorp effectively own Gotham, and why the concept of The Batman is a problem in and of itself.

So it was pretty par for the course then that, for a short time between 2009 to 2015, DC Comics teamed up with Rocksteady Studios and Warner Brothers Montreal to create the Batman: Arkham video game series that featured the exact same crypto fash Bat that fans have come to know and love. The Arkham series was a western take on the popular Japenese game genre that we know today as "Character Action". It's a bit of a hard genre to describe, but its typically distinguishable by being a Third Person game in where your character takes on hordes of enemies and is very, very powerful right from the get go. Where you have combo meters that break on the slightest bit of damage and the combat revolves just as much around being stylish and impressive to look at, as it is engaging and outrageously difficult. From a gameplay perspective, DC and Rocksteady couldn't have picked a better superhero to go with when adapting the Character Action genre to the west. Batman has no powers, and relies entirely on his gadgets and martial arts training to effectively subdue those in front of him. This allowed the Arkham series to shine as a half Character Action, half Stealth Puzzle game, creating what was effectively a 3D Third Person Metroidvania Brawler. It was a match made in Heaven. The end result of the Arkham Series popularity created an entire genre of combat and gameplay styles that have majorly impacted and outlived the Arkham series, with pretty much any super hero game afterwards being simply an Arkham game with a skin. It also meant that Warner Bros. Interactive Entertainment, the publisher, had an effective cash cow they could milk for everything it was worth. Immediately after the publication of the first game, Batman: Arkham Aslyum, production began on a second game titled Batman: Arkham City that was much larger in scope. Set to be an open world that took place in all of Gotham as the inmates of the Aslyum escaped and overtook the city. Batman: Arkham City was released in 2011 to absolute critical praise and from that point on, the Arkham Series of games was here to stay and here to become a franchise with yearly release Al-a Call of Duty. A mobile game came out the same year as the second game, and every year after following you had at least 2 games in the Arkham-verse release thereafter. Rocksteady, bless their overworked and creatively burnt out hearts, could not keep up with this demand while they developed a sequel to Arkham City that was meant to be even larger in scope. Warner Brothers instead then tapped an in-house development team, WB Games Montreal, for a prequel game that took place as the Batman was finding his footing and dealing with his first major crime outbreak.

This prequel came to be known as Batman: Arkham Origins and was released in 2013. It's widely considered by fans of the series to be the black sheep of the series. Having none of the original charm or excitement of the first games, as it was made to be a yearly entry into the series rather than with the care and attention that Rocksteady put into the previous two entries. Warner Brothers Interactive however were very, very sure that they wanted to put all their eggs in this new Arkham prequel themed basket and developed not just one, not just two, but three separate spin offs! These spinoffs were as follows:

- An iOS mobile fighting game that had the same name as the original game developed by the Mortal Kombat developers Netherrealm Studios(Fun fact: This is the 2nd iOS Arkham fighting game they had made at that point.)

-An animated direct to video sequel-to-the-prequel titled "Batman: Assault on Arkham" that ultimately bombed pretty hard.

-And finally the game I'll be writing about today, a Playstation Vita/Nintendo 3DS (And later PC/Xbox 360/Playstation 3 release with updated textures) side game that was also sequel-to-the-prequel known as Batman: Arkham Origins Blackgate.

Even reading this back in 2020, I cannot fathom why they had such confidence in this series as to fund this many projects in this specific prequel time period of the Arkham Universe. Needless to say, all of these were critical failures. But being one of the 6 people left in the world who still excitedly owns a Playstation Vita in 2020, I was goaded by the other 5 to give the final spin-off game a shot.

And so I did.

I want my 8 hours of life it took to complete it back.

Batman: Arkham Origins Blackgate is a 2.5D Metroidvania that tries really, really hard to be a mainline Arkham game despite being designed primarily as a Metroidvania. For those unaware, a metroidvania is a genre of game that features a large map with procedural upgrades that allow you to access more and more of the map, often requiring you to remember locations so that you can backtrack to them and try out new upgrades to see if they let you into these new areas. Blackgate follows this formula and does it very, very, very poorly.

You might be feeling a bit of confusion here, though, as earlier within this article I described the Arkham main line series as essentially a 3D Metroidvania style of games. And given this earlier comparison, when going into Blackgate I honestly expected this combination of an Arkham game that was more focused on being a Metroidvania to be really good! Metroidvanias are one of my favorite types of genres and I'm regrettably a fan of the Arkham games, so I was all set and ready to settle into what I was hoping would be a good game, or at least a decent one.

The issues with the genre this game has decided to cram itself awkwardly into are immediate and apparent the moment you boot the game. Being 2.5D, which in every other instance I've ever seen means "Plays exactly like a 2D game in every way, but is just done in 3d and thus uses 3D Models" Blackgate decides that sort of consistency is beneath it and constantly shifts its own perspective. Its never not a sidescrolling camera view, but its levels also have you make turns in L-Shaped corridors that mean your map screen is entirely useless. In Metroid: Zero Mission, for example, your map is a side on view of the chambers. It has long sections that go up and down in what is effectively the Y axis, and long corridors that go left and right in the X axis. This is how every single Metroidvania does its Map screen, including other 2.5D Metroidvanias I have played in the past. To do so otherwise would destroy any sense of understanding of verticality that exists within the game world. No Metroidvania ever "turns" in the middle of a corridor into another corridor that suddenly goes forwards and backwards on what would be the Z axis.

In Blackgate, however, your map screen is a top-down view of Arkham Aslyum that has corridors that go forwards and backwards, left and right, and does noting to denote any verticality in any of the areas. What this effectively means is that you're going to spend an annoying amount of time moving forward into a corridor and then hitting your map button to try and discern exactly where the hell you are in relation to the rest of the world. It doesn't help then that the facility of Arkham Aslyum is not traversed normally, as almost all doors and elevators and any set of stairs are non-existent and the ones that are there do not work or are not accessible. The Facility is in ruins due to the events of the game and that means you will constantly be working your way through crawlspaces and vents or even simply holes in the floor or cieling that allow you to progress around the map. Again, this betrays a core tenat of any Metroidvania, as backtracking to locations is a huge and important part of the core gameplay loop. Doing so in Blackgate is like pulling teeth trying to remember which vent took you where and what specific level of verticality you need to be on that takes you where you want to go.

The combat is copy/pasted directly from any other arkham game, where you magnetically snap between enemies and have a combo meter that is broken if you're hit as well as a parry system for incoming attacks. This system, in short, does not work in the slightest in a side scrolling perspective. Not only are enemies often grouped up in a way that makes keeping a combo impossible, but for some reason you are almost always unable to counter someone who is about to hit you if you're not directly facing them. Effectively this turns every fight into a chore where you are just trying to get through it as quickly as possible while trying your best to maintain a combo. In the mainline arkham series, they eventually start adding enemies that have to be taken out in special ways, such as stunning them with your cape or jumping over them as they have armor on their front. Blackgate tries to do the same thing, but effectively gives up after 2 unique enemies as the system just doesn't allow for anything else. The combat isn't absolutely the worst i've ever played, but its definitely the worst version of the Arkham combat system's that i've ever seen. To top it off, the Boss fights within the game are all "Puzzles" of a kind where you must navigate a room in a specific way to hit a Boss 3 times. The frustrating aspect of these puzzle based boss fights is that they may only be solved one way, with no room for experimentation with the Batmans various arsenal of Gadgets and Tools, and also that any mistake will instantly kill you and reset your progress to the start of the fight. These are, in a word, frustrating. More often than not they become a trial of repetition to try and find whatever way the game wants you to subdue the Boss.

An example of one of these incompetent boss fights that irked me the most would be the Black Mask fight. Within this fight, you come in from the left side and use a batarang to take out a single light out of a row of them. This may lead you to believe that you must take out all the lights and take out Black Mask in complete darkness. This is not the case. Instead, you must take out one single light and then duck into the crawl space under the masked Villain, then come out of the end of the vent below him, and hit an alarm on the side you used to be on. This causes him to start shooting in that direction at the sound. At this point, you may think you sneak up behind him and take him out while he's distracted. Unfortunately, you'd still be wrong! Trying this will result in him immediately realizing you're behind him and turn around, filling you with bullets and instantly killing you. What you must do instead is to go back into the grates while he moves towards the center of the arena. At this point, you must jump up from the grates when prompted to one-hit KO him, being one of the few bosses you do not have to hit 3 times. A fun fact about this fight however, is that if you miss that opportunity then the fight soft locks and you have to let him kill you to restart. Every fight is like this, with this much incompetence abound.

You may have noticed at this point that I have neglected to mention any of the Bats arsenal or Toolkit that you use during the course of the game. That is because, frankly, it does not matter. The upgrades you get simply allow you to go into different doors or different vents or break holes into walls but that's it. They serve no other gameplay purpose, no other combat role, nothing. A common trend within Metroidvanias is that the upgrades you get are dual purpose. An example being the Ice Beam from literally any Metroid game. This is both a damage up and allows you to stunlock difficult enemies, it also allows you to freeze enemies and turn them into platforms with which to progress the further into the map. No gadget within Blackgate serves this dual purpose, and as such there's barely any point to even bring them up other to lament their boring design.

The problem with Gadgets is moreso just a part of a much larger pacing problem that the entire game suffers from. Blackgate is divided into three maps, wherein you must search different wings of Arkham Aslyum to find The Joker, Penguin, and Black Mask as they have all escaped and cordoned off each zone into a headquarters for their respective gang of thugs. Something quite common within Metroidvanias is non-linearity, wherein you can get to an objective in any way that you have access to via your upgrades. There are numerous methods where you may even "Sequence break" the game, or do something earlier than you are intended to do so by the natural flow of the game. This is not a design oversight, it is an intentional part of the formula. I can only assume then that splitting up the game into these 3 chunks was an attempt at recreating this non-linearity. But it effectively does not matter. At a certain point in any of the maps, you will be stopped and told to go to another to procure an upgrade to proceed. There are no other options. There is no sequence breaking. There isn't even a point to explore anywhere else. You cannot progress the game until you do exactly what it asks of you. No matter what order you'd actually like to do it in, you will take on Penguin, then Black Mask, then The Joker. You are not allowed to deviate from this path. The fact that this linearity is forced onto you just makes me wish the ability to pick and choose your map had just been taken out and the charade of non-linearity taken away, as it feels more like a slap in the face that everytime I tried to explore somewhere, the game halted me and told me I wasn't allowed to do that.

So, at this point all I have left to cover is the story. As it is, its bare bones. Prisoners have escaped, you need to go chase them back into their cells and restore peace in Arkham, meanwhile Catwoman is helping you out over comms and guiding you to where you need to go next. The opening of the game actually has you spend about 10 minutes chasing catwoman, only to be stopped by literal police when you catch her, to which Bruce simply tells them that the law is actually in his hands as the Batman, and then proceeds to beat up and subdue these police while letting Catwoman escape, who then secretly triggers the entire charade within Arkham so that she may escape with Bane who is hidden within a literal fucking panopticon inside the lowest bowels of the Aslyum. Standard Batman story, very by the book.

But there is something much, much more interesting at play within Blackgate. Something I'm not entirely sure the developers intended. I started this article with a preamble about the latent fascism of Bruce Wayne and the reason for that is because the game seemingly understands that these things are a problem. Within the game, you often can hear the low level grunts that you can fight around the various maps long before they see you. If you simply wait a moment and listen to some of their idle dialogue, they have a surprising amount of complaints about their crazed villainous bosses, but they've also got quite a lot to say about the state of Gotham itself. These citizens of the disastrous city will often lament that they have no other choice than to work for one of these absolute lunatics. They often state they know they will likely die on this job, and that they know they are disposable to their bosses, and generally that they do not like the positions they are in job-wise. However they're very clear in stating that they no choice. No education, being a convicted felon, and most of all with Batman patrolling the streets? A life of crime that leads directly into a stint on Arkham Aslyum is the life of a good 80% of Gothams population. They even talk at times about forming unions before laughing off the idea as they know they will be outright murdered by one of their respective bosses.

So Blackgate is aware of the issues of Batman, right? Its grunts repeatedly belt out the same problems that any easy criticism of Batman has. The problem, however, is that because these are grunts of a gang and because Batman is supposed to be Cool and The Good Guy, these are meant to be treated as jokes. Not legitimate criticisms, not actual problems, just stupid things that stupid criminals are saying. Blackgate is obsessed with maintaining the image that Batman is actually in the right morally for everything he does. An image it only struggles to maintain as its revealed later that Bruce's corporation, Waynecorp, FUNDS Arkham Aslyum. Those upgrades you get? they are various upgrades left around by Bruce's construction teams ON PURPOSE in case a prison riot ever happened. Meanwhile, a minor bossfight early on has a, and I wish I was joking here, black man in prison for a crime he didn't commit directly tell Batman that not only does he not want to hurt him(Penguin has him at gunpoint and forces him to fight you, thus the boss battle) but that he did not commit the crime he was thrown in jail for, and that if batman was at gunpoint with no other option he'd do the same things. Batman simply responds that he, being the rich white man that he is, would never be in the same position as his enemy. Subtle racism, I guess, is another one of Batmans infinite gadgets on his toolkit.

I cannot stress enough how deeply fucked up this all is. Bruce spends his days funding a what is essentially a private prison that he controls in a city that is so poor he is the de-facto owner of it, only to spend his nights putting whoever he decides is a bad person into these prisons while creating the conditions that lead to so many people following a life of crime. The game is explicit about this. It does not do like the rest of Batman media and shy away from the criticisms of Bruces latent fascism, it lays them completely bare. But it expects that you will think Batman is actually morally justified for creating this prison pipeline he directly profits from while he gets to LARP at night as a spectre of justice. It's despicable and while I don't think it was done on purpose, it was clearly a rushed game made very quickly for handhelds so that there'd be a yearly Arkham game, it says a lot about our consumption of superhero related media which already has many problematic aspects that the creators of this game expected, and were likely right to expect, that we would find this latent fascism and prison pipeline inherently understandable and even morally justified and badass. It's one of the reasons I couldn't wait to simply put the game down and never think about it again. Something I'll be glad to do as soon as I finish this article.

So, final words then.

Blackgate is a shit game. Its a shit metroidvania, with a shit upgrade system, a boring story, WILDLY problematic politics and a take on Batman. It doesn’t work as an Arkham game, it doesn’t work as a Metroidvania, it barely functions as anything even remotely interesting to put your time into, I don't know why Warner Brothers was so invested in this world. I don't know why they put so much money into the Origins timeline. But we're all better off with the fact that it failed and that after Arkham Knight, the final of the Arkham Trilogy(from Rocksteady), they planned to end the series.

Oh wait, they're making a Suicide Squad game set in the Arkham-verse due to release in 2021, apparently.

Fucking hell.

#Batman: Arkham Origins Blackgate #Review #Played on: PS Vita

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lockdownuk · 3 years

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Lockdown Diary Part 9

A personal account during the lockdown in the UK due to the Covid-19 outbreak.

23/03/2020 8:30pm Boris Johnson, UK Prime Minister, gives a live address to the nation to, effectively, put the country on lockdown to stem the spread of the deadly coronavirus strain, Covid-19.

Many of us have been self-isolating for days but this latest development within the UK in reaction to the pandemic feels very serious and very scary. I decided to keep a simple diary and where better but online.

Day 241: Shit day at work. To cut a long story short, I could complete a task Sueanne gave to me and then I got it in the ear, including a snotty email ay 5:40pm. Pissed off.

Day 242: Had a meeting with Sueanne (our weekly 1-2-1 actually) and she was alright. I feel much better tonight. Last night I didn’t even have an appetitie - unheard of! Going to make up for that tonight, pie and loads of veg! A much better day. Ridiculously, I believe yesterday was all my own fault - I take work for granted sometimes and I let myself down by ignoring the urgency of a task just because it was Sueanne asking me to do it and she was a peer. She is now my boss, and I should respect that.

Day 243: So-so day at work. It’s strange how used to work I am after over six months on furlough. It’s been less than two months back but all the highs and lows amd frustrations are commonplace. Most importantly, it being Thursday, I cannot wait for tomorrow eveninga dn to kick back, drink and smoke. Spoke to dad this morning, he’s same as...that’s always good to know. Sugar levels have been a fucking roller coaster today, and it has really fucked me off! No salad at lunch due to them being so fucking high when I got back from my walk. It ended up being my tea. Sarted watching The Undoing...it’s OK.

Day 244: Glad it is Friday. Just cooking a (very hot) chicken madras, cracked open my first beer. Gonna eat, drink, smoke and watch a good film.

Day 245: Gold was the film I watched last night, with Matthew McConaughey and it was a good choice. I then watch a Kevin Hart stand up show on Netflix...very Eddie Murphy, very funny. I did a 12 km walk today...fucking felt it in my legs. Walked the footpath from Stoke Doyle road to Benefield road for the first time. I liked it and it comes out between Lytham Park and Wakerley Close....I posted on FB about the fact that when I move to Oundle, Clifton Drive was the last street heading out of town. Saw Becks on the walk down Benefield road, She mentioned she’s tired of lockdown. I replied that I’m tired of the virus!

Day 246: Up at 1pm, nice long walk, ordered new slippers and waterproof jacket (my Craghopper is bust again).

Day 247: I screwed up at work today, went for a (ridiculously) late lunch right when I was meant to be at an online meeting that Sueanne had reminded me about in the morning. There’s mitigation but, when push comes to shove, I fucked up and now Sueanne’s on the warpath - one more slip up and it’ll be an offical disciplinary matter.

Day 248: Suzanne wants me to troubleshoot a ticket she has in her queue, some database request for a Cork guy. It’s a test and it’s fucking me off.

I did testing for a network change tonight...8 till 11:15pm.

Elliot and Aaron cleaned the windows today. It was nice to see them.

Rita sent a couple of emails recently. Dad’s ear is all clear but Paul has got testicular cancer.

Day 249: New waterproof jacket arrived today. It’s very nice, bargain for £25 odd. Also picked up slippers from M&S food hall in Corby so, while over their, did a shop at Tesco’s...£109 mainly booze.

By the time I was back, I ended up doing my evening walk at 9.30pm!

Day 250: Leigh from Oundle Chronicle has got back to me. She (he?) has selected the photos that are going to be in the article and wants me to write a sentence on each - where they were taken and what inspited me to do so. Whether that means the stuff I wrote before is not going to be used, or not, I dunno! New slippers are OK and the new jacket is still impressing me.

Day 251: Typing on Day 252. Usual Friday, beers, meatballs, pizza, long chat with Fog. I should mention that, as we approach the end of Lockdown2 in England, Boris and his government have laid out a three tier structure for how the second lockdown will be eased. It’s caused confusion and consternation across the board. None of it affects me, still isolating like I was on day 1. Day 252: Totally forgot about my diary entry yesterday! Up at 1pm, nice long walk, nipped rong Elliots to pay for my windows, had a chat with him, Artron and Camilla - it’s so nice to socialise! Gonna make fish pie and supp a few ales. Day 253: The weekend is over way too quickly. It’s 7.30pm on Sunday as I type and I wish it wasn’t. I wish it was 7.30pm on Friday. Day 254: In a meeting, a working Zoom, with Andy Ashler in the US re: qfiniti, which Sueanne pissed me off about earlier in te day (RCI diary updated), but the meeting went well. I am desparately trying to buy an iPad on Black Monday. As usual with tech, I cannot make my mind up which to buy! Day 255: I haven’t bought an iPad....I’ll wait for the 10.2″ iPad to come down in price. I had more involvement with Andy Ashler and in the US with the Qfiniti project at work. I’m really enjoying it, it’s very technical...although I didn’t finish ‘til 6pm because of it. The Oundle Chronicle is out and an article about me and my pics is on the back page. Leigh, the editor, sent it to me electronically. It’s good. I am chuffed! Day 256: I booked some holidays today, making sure that I didn’t include any days off in the week December 14-18 (SB’s off). So, this coming Friday (4th Dec), Next Weds-Fri and Monday 21st. I know I have only been back from Furlough a couple of months but I am more than ready for some kick-back time. 1-2-1 with SB today, it was a relaxed affair, most espcially becaus eof my success thus far with the Qfiniti project - that being said, I got pretty much nowhere with it today. Ordered a couple of long sleeved Ts and a fleeced hoody from a shop called Doubletwo today, well cheap in the sale. I saw half a dozen joggers on the Milton Road blind bend tonight, oblivious to any other potential path user. I posted about it (in my own, sarcastic way) on the Oundle Chatter FB group. It was met how I’d expected plus some direct digs so I deleted it. Cowardly but, I figure, I don’t get my point across, the vast majority of joggers really don’t think they are doing anything wrong by bulldozing there way around town and, lastly, I couldn’t be bothered with the flak, and its tennis like back-and-forth!

Day 257: Got tomorrow off so worked late tying up loose ends, including the qfiniti project - fucking nuts really, making sure no one asks any questions of SB or the team, in terms of my work load, for just one day off! Still, just had tea, cracked open a beer and am watching Shaun of the Dead. Nice.

Day 258: The main thing I did today is walk. It was about 12km but felt much longer ‘cos it was wintry, pissing down, windy and slippery as fuck. And I really enjoyed it! Badge messaged me today to ask how I am and, in replying, I mentioned that I think I am becoming addicted to walking...it wasn’t a throwaway comment. Just cooked up a chilli (which I think I have ruined with a Knorr beef stock pot), and will tuck in with beers, smokes and telly. While it’s been a day off, this Friday evening will be as all others are at the moment, late, drunken and solitary fun - no doubt.

Day 259: Typing on day 260. That chilli last night was actually OK. Plus I ‘invented’ a meatball wrap - moving on from the TikTok ham and cheese wrap you fold into the toaster, I tried the same with meatballs but no fucking way could I fold it into the toaster slot (pissed up kitchen shenanigans), so I wrapped it in tin foil and heated it in the oven, Fucking delicious. I watched Shaun of the Dead. I think it’s the first time since its release and I couldn’t help thinking “zombies just aren’t like that [in real life]” Wtf?

Day 260: I was quite sensible (for a Saturday) last night, in bed by 2am, up at my alarm this morning, 10:30am. Nice long walk, taking in a new path up by Biggin Grange and took plenty of pics that turned out really good. Btw, posh lost yesterday at Portsmouth (with 2000 fans there) and they lost midweek and last weekend in the FA Cup to Chorley, at home.

Day 261: It’s freezing today...actually 0 degrees. This house is so fucking cold, even with the heating on.

Day 262: Typing on day 263. Last day of work for 5 days. Beers are in order. And a sausage casserole. Day 263: I completely forgot to do a diary entry yesterday....concentrating on starting my work break off on the right foot, which I did. As a result, I didn’t get up until 1pm. So, to stop that sort of day wasting, no beers tonight. Just got back from a shop (£90 in Tesco’s), trying to sort out Romiley’s Christmas present, then something to eat (more sausage casserole) and a early, sober night.

Day 264: So, after abstinence last night, I was up before 11am and did a walk that included the track from Benefield Road to Monson Way past Park Wood. It was fucking hard work due to mud. I have lost coumd the amount of times I nearly slipped right over. Throw into that a hypo, the 12-13km walk was tough. Sorted out Romiley’s present (guitar stand, music stand and guitar exercises book). Took soime nice photos today as well which I’ve prepared and shared. No booze today/tonight either. Some break, a younger me would say!

Day 265: Friday, and I am typing with a beer, balti on the hob and I am just gonna choose a film and roll a single skinner. I am knackered. Up at 10am, cleaned the hall and stairs after a 10km walk. Also, I spoke with dad who is, as always, fine.

Time to make up for the last two sober nights.

Day 266: I am typing this on day 267. So drunk last night I left nearll a full can of beer and went to bed in my jogging bottoms and t-shirt. I have had a day off from any exercise at all which felt very odd. A few beers and watched Snatch. Day 267: While I was nowhere near drunk last night, due to sleeping in late (2pm) I was up ‘til 3am watching TikTok so today I struggled out of bed at just before 1pm. Watch the start of the season’s final GP (Verstappen won from pole and it was boring af), back on the exercising including a 9km walk. Back to work tomorrow which I feel totally conflicted about! Posh won yesterday at home to Rochdale (with the allowed 2000 fans) 4-1 including a 17 minute first half hatrick from Jonson Clarke-Harris.

Day 268: Back to work - Sueanne’s off and it’s the first day I’ve been at work with Jon in charge which involves a daily ‘SUMO’ (whatever that acronym stands for?) at 9.30am every day. I am still involved with te qfiniti upgrade project which seems to have taken a step backwards in the 3 days I had off, so I was working until gone 9.30pm! I have decided to do a quiz, hopefully for Christmas, whereby I don’t want the actual answers (to 25 particular questions, all with a common theme in the answer), merely an omitted question!

Day 269: Stand Up Meeting Online. SUMO. Ian Bird told me. I might struggle with double Y for my quiz. Work was OK, more Qfiniti stuff. Posh drew away to MK 1-1. Posh were 0-1 up but Lincs lost at home. I can’t undertsand why that pleases me so....oh, yeah I can Steve Dee.

Day 270: Struggling to order Dad and Rita booze for Christmas without it being a Morrison’s delivery that I can do through Amazon Prime. That would be OK but it’s just a bit clinical! Meanwhile, now I am paying for Prime, and they are showing some Premiership games (for example, tonight I watched Liverpool v. Spurs (2-1), I really have to contact Sky - I am paying £71pm atm! Sam posted pic of her Christmas tree but mentioned how she’s finding it hard to get in the spirit - Paul has testicular cancer and the outlook is bleak - fuck know’s what she’s going through with all that, trying to shield Romiley from the worst without lying!

#diary #Tumblr diary #lockdown #COVID19 #lockdownuk

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hookedontaronfics · 5 years

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A (Not So) Secret Crush - Prompt fic

Title: A (Not So) Secret Crush Pairing: Taron x Reader Rating: T Warnings: None (Just some cursing but we’re all adults here, right?) A/N: I just had so much fun writing this imagine; it really flowed from my fingertips with ease and I hope you enjoy reading this super sweet fluff as much as I enjoyed writing it! x Prompt: Could you possibly do an imagine where the reader is drunk and leaves a voicemail for taron saying that she’s falling for him? then he confronts her? SUUUUPER FLUFFY

Here was the scene: Another Friday night at a loud bar, drinking with your friends, some who had been your mates since your RADA days, others who had been brought into the fold because they knew someone who knew someone. Either way, your group had been hosting these Friday night get-togethers for as long as you could remember, and whoever could make it showed up. The mix of friends changed time to time but the fun never stopped.

You truly loved these people and you were grateful you had made friends for life. You’d been through every heartbreak and every victory together - new jobs, losing parents, getting engaged, getting married, getting cancer, having babies, getting promotions, losing jobs, shitty breakups, you’d seen it all together, and you’d been there for each other through thick and thin, plenty of tears and plenty of laughter.

One of your closest friends had drifted away from the group slightly, not because he didn’t care but because he was just so exceptionally busy. Taron had made quite a name for himself lately, and was constantly running the awards circuit as of late. You couldn’t help but admit you slightly envied him. Out of your entire RADA group, he’d been the most successful. Some of you still did civic theater or indie film projects, but nearly everyone had gone on to normal plebian jobs. But Taron had been incredibly talented from Day One; how he hadn’t made it into the school on his first audition was beyond you. You knew he’d go far and you were pleased to see your predictions had been right. Of course he’d always brushed you off when you’d tried to tell him that all those years ago; he was almost annoyingly humble.

Look at him now, you thought, racking up awards buzz for his latest project as Elton John, sitting there downing his pilsner and laughing like he hadn’t a care in the world. He’d decided to join your lot finally after months of half-promises or apologies, and you couldn’t help staring at his fine-cut suit… or that jawline. He’d just come from some banquet or another, you’d lost track at that point, but boy did he look fine.

You weren’t sure when the crush had started really. Maybe you’d always found him attractive, but he had been your friend so you never really dwelled on it. Plus, as gangly young adults, you all had had some growing up to do. But Taron had aged like a fine wine, and only gotten more handsome as the years passed, and so your crush had slowly become more than just a spark. But you’d never tell him that, you couldn’t. You felt like it would ruin your friendship, a friendship you both had come to rely on over the years. He’d called you in tears when he and Emily had broken up, and you’d brought over frozen pizzas and let him cry on your shoulder while they baked in the oven. That kind of friendship wasn’t worth ruining over your silly crush.

But at this moment, as the alcohol you were drinking was working its way through your system, you couldn’t help but wonder what could come of it all if you just told him the truth. You were both single at the moment now, and every time he smiled at you you felt your heart leap into your throat. It was getting kind of annoying, to be honest. Taron with those intense green eyes and that boyish grin and that hair you wanted to run your fingers through. But you never would, because you loved him too much to trip over the line and cause an irreparable rip in the fabric of your friendship.

The night wore on, and so did the drinks, shots and cocktails and a beer to chase it all down. As you were nursing your Firestone ale, Taron finally slid over on the booth next to you. The conversations had died down mostly into private talks between couples, and you’d been sitting by yourself, aware of how that branded you in your singleness.

“You shouldn’t be sitting by yourself, love,” he grinned at you, tossing an arm casually on the back of the booth behind you, but not touching you. Still, you were all too aware of his presence now. He smelled of alcohol but also vanilla and sandalwood; it was a bit heady to you, and you had to take a steadying breath before you answered him.

“Everyone decided to couple up,” you laughed, the sound too loud and bright to your own ears. “And I am definitely… uh.. Single,” you added for good measure.

“Suppose that makes two of us, eh?” he smiled gently at you. You could only nod at that.

“So, I feel completely rude in not asking what you’ve been up to these days,” he said, taking a sip of his own beer, your eyes trained on the way his mouth worked the rim of the glass and giving you a thought you instantly banished from your mind. You suddenly felt quite warm and adjusted the collar of your blouse.

“Just work, you know, the usual boring adult shit. My life is not nearly as exciting as yours, Mister I’m Winning All The Awards,” you said, giggling slightly at your own dumb joke.

“Oh please, that’s not even remotely true,” he chuckled, but you could see a bit of blush creeping up his neck. You had to admit, it didn’t look bad on him at all.

“But really, I just go to work and come home and veg in front of the telly and do hot yoga and drink with this lot and that’s about it. I guess I’m waiting for something more exciting to come along,” you shrugged slightly.

“Or someone?” he asked, turning his full gaze on you. You couldn’t decipher the meaning behind his words, though, so you just took another drink of your ale.

“I guess you could say that but who knows if that will ever happen, T. You’ve seen me go through it so many times before. I’m beginning to wonder if there’s such a thing as true love, or if life is just really about settling for someone you at least can tolerate,” you sighed heavily.

“Hey now, no reason to give up just yet,” he said, tilting your chin up to look at him. You’d hugged him many times over the years, even tackled him full-on during a friendly rugby match, but for some reason his touch on you now sent shivers down your spine.

“I’ll believe you when you find me a match,” you teased him lightly, and he chuckled.

“Alright, well, let’s start with this here bar, right now,” he smirked sideways at you as you slid down in the booth to try and hide. “Ohhh that one over there, in the chummy corduroy jacket, he’s got nice eyes. Or the biker jacket by the window, he could take you for a wild ride,” Taron snickered and you slapped him playfully on the arm.

“Taron, stop,” you said, hissing in your attempt to not laugh.

“Hey, what about Mr. Silver Suits over there, 9 o’clock?” he said, sweeping his arm over to point and accidentally knocking you in the back of the head in the process. “Oh my god, I’m so so sorry!” he said, pulling you to him and holding you tightly against his chest. You couldn’t breathe in this close proximity to him, and he must have interpreted your silence as pain. “Please tell me you’re okay,” he pleaded slightly, his alcohol breath on your cheek not unpleasant.

“I’m fine Taron, but you’re squeezing me a bit,” you laughed, as he quickly loosened his arms around you and you sat back up.

“I’ve totally gone and messed up your hair,” he said, trying to help you rearrange it, his fingers whispering slightly over your cheeks and shoulders and making you suck in your breath slightly. You were far too drunk to think about this rationally. He was drunk too, though, you realized, and couldn’t possibly be meaning anything about this.

“It’s fine, T, you’ve done enough,” you said with a smile, as he withdrew his hands and looked slightly embarrassed at himself.

“Sorry, I’m a bit drunk?” he offered, and you just laughed at him.

“Not the first time I’ve seen you pissed,” you giggled, and he grinned at you.

“This is not untrue,” he smirked. “But we should maybe call it a night?” he said, loosening his tie slightly and drawing your eyes straight to his neck, where you wanted to kiss him. Fuck, you really needed to stop thinking those things. You were going to go home to your quiet, lonely apartment, by yourself, and probably crash and sleep off your hangover. Taron was no part of that reality and the thought sobered you up a bit.

You both ordered Ubers and finished your drinks while you waited, chatting about nothing of consequence. He walked you out the door, his hand at your lower back, and made sure you got in the Uber safely.

“Text me when you get home, yeah?” he said, slurring his words only slightly.

“Of course,” you said sweetly at him as he closed the door behind you. The Uber driver was rather chatty but thankfully didn’t seem to mind that most of your replies were “uh-huh” and “yeah” and you were grateful when you got home, a small headache beginning to work its way into your brain, and also a slightly painful longing in your heart.

You had once again walked away from Taron without telling him how you felt, and tonight he’d even slightly made you feel like maybe he felt something too, the way his gaze had landed on you often when he didn’t think you were looking, the way his fingers had always found your knee under the table, the way he leaned into your shoulder when he laughed. Boy, you had it bad, and you didn’t know how to stop. Maybe you didn’t want to stop feeling this way about him, but you could never have him either.

You hopped in the shower, hoping that would calm you down, before realizing you’d completely forgotten to text Taron that you’d made it home safely. You quickly grabbed your towel and wrapped it around your dripping body, hair still full of shampoo, before pawing through the contents of your purse for your phone, where you found several <are you home yet?!> texts from Taron.

Rather than text him back this late, you just decided to call since that might be quicker in reassuring him that you were safe. He didn’t pick up the call though, and you half-imagined him crashed out on his couch, still in that suit coat, now rumpled, mouth hanging slightly open and the couch blanket tossed haphazardly over himself. The image made you smile as his voicemail beeped at you.

“Hey, Taron, it’s me. You would have known that if you’d been looking at your phone, of course. But you’re probably asleep already so… I’m just letting you know I-” you said before the phone service cut you off. You sighed and dialed again, waiting for the beep before trying again. “I made it home! Thought you should know that. Because you left me like 18 texts asking me if I was home yet. I had fun tonight with you, really. It was great to catch up. I hope we-” you rambled into the voice message before getting cut off again.

You hoped what? That you could fall in love and get married and have his babies? The thought was absolutely absurd, and you laughed out loud at how ridiculous you were being. You dialed his number one more time, hoping to leave something semi-coherent. “Hey, sorry I’m really drunk but if I don’t tell you how I feel now I never will. I think I’m falling for you and I know if this ruins our friendship I’ll forever regret it. But I just needed to tell you that, because I’ve known it for a long time. I think I love you, and I-” You were cut off again, and suddenly lost your courage too. You threw your phone on the bedside table and wished you could take that message back.

“SHIT!” you yelled out loud, standing in the puddle of water you’d left on your hardwood floor. What have I done, you thought, feeling like you might cry. Well, it was all in Taron’s hands now, really. You felt sick to your stomach as you went to finish your shower, and afterward stood staring at yourself in the mirror for a long moment. There was no way he could possibly feel the same about you. He probably only thought of you as a sister, nothing more. You brushed the tears away from your face and sighed before collapsing in your bed, not even bothering to dry your hair, the water soaking into your pillow as you passed out.

When your alarm went off the next morning you batted half the crap off your bedside table before finding your phone and silencing the alarm, groaning slightly at it before sitting bolt upright and opening your phone. There were no return texts, no return voicemails. Nothing at all. Maybe he was still asleep, you told yourself, though it was already nearly 11 a.m. Maybe he just didn’t know how to respond, because you sure as hell wouldn’t if he had left you messages like that. Maybe he’d just chalk it up to drunkenness and let the whole thing pass like a bad dream. Or a kidney stone. Painful, but forgettable. Because that’s exactly how you felt about yourself in that moment.

There was no way you were getting back to sleep, so you got up and went about your Saturday, tidying up your apartment, going to the grocery, chatting with your mum, watching some telly, and jumping every time your phone chimed with a text. But they were never texts from the one person you needed to hear from, and when the sun began to sink toward the horizon with still no response, your heart sank to your toes right along with it.

You slept fitfully that night, before spending Sunday as a nervous wreck, pacing your apartment and debating whether to ring him. You settled on a text message, typing it and deleting it and retyping it again. <I think we need to talk. But I just want to know you’re okay. Please text me back.> You paced some more before you finally received a text back.

<Everything’s alright, just been busy. We can talk at some point but I’ll be in the States for a while coming up so don’t hold your breath.>

“Don’t hold my breath?” you asked out loud, a wee bit shocked as it sounded rather rude, coming from someone you’d known the better part of 10 years. Someone who had cried on your damn shoulders just a few months ago. You huffed slightly and tossed your phone on the couch, staring at it and sighing. You figured the conversation would probably end up with you conceding just being drunk and an arsehole and both of you agreeing to forget it ever happened.

But could you live with your unrequited feelings for the rest of your life? Could you stand by Taron’s side when he married another girl, knowing how you felt about him? Or would this truly be something neither of you could get over? Could you live with never talking to him again? The thought made you feel sick to your stomach; you’d rather deny your feelings for the rest of your life than lose him completely, you decided. You spent the rest of the night on the couch with a tub of ice cream, eating your feelings and trying to not so subtly ask your friend group if they’d heard anything from Taron, but no one had. At least he had kept your secret admission to himself.

Weeks passed and you didn’t hear anything from Taron. You attended the next several Friday outings with the group and even though you enjoyed your time with everyone else, the lack of Taron’s presence was a glaring hole in your mind. Don’t hold your breath, he’d said, the phrase stuck on an endless loop in your mind. It distracted you in your daily life, and even your best friend at work called you out for it. You came up with some lame excuse she saw right through, figuring it was “boy trouble” and wondering when you’d ever manage to find a decent man.

The problem, though, was that a decent man had been right in front of you, so close to you but so far out of reach. Maybe Taron had ruined you for everyone else, you thought to yourself, laughing at that but half-wondering if it was true. No one ever measured up to the man you knew he was, the man you’d spent countless hours beating at Mario Kart, he was so laughably bad, the man who’d helped you memorize your monologues, who sent you funny gifs when he knew you were down, who always took you to lunch after a bad breakup. He knew more about your life than most anyone else.

And you’d gone and thrown it all away.

On a particularly stormy day, six weeks later, you were sitting on your living room floor, surrounded by half cut-up magazines, the scattered images of people’s faces and flowers and animals and the words you’d cut out. You were dressed in a pair of floral leggings and a white sweater, your hair up in a messy bun with a cute headband holding your bangs out of your face. You were tapping your scissors against your lips, deciding how to arrange your collage, when a loud crack of thunder made you jump, your lights flickering slightly. “Jesus,” you breathed out, your heart racing slightly before a knock sounded on your apartment door.

You almost thought you’d imagined it, not expecting anyone, when it sounded again. You quickly put the cap on the open glue bottle before unwinding your legs and standing up, stepping carefully around the scattered art. The insistent knocking came again, and you sighed. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” you said even though they couldn’t hear you. It was probably just a neighbor wondering if your lights had flickered too.

You popped the door open and gasped slightly, an entirely-soaked-to-the-bone Taron standing at your door, rainwater dripping off the tip of his nose and chin, his wet hair plastered to his forehead.

“Taron!” you said in surprise, your hand still on the doorknob.

“Did you mean what you said?” he asked, his voice a bit hoarse.

“What do you mean?” you asked softly, knowing full well what he meant.

“Your voicemail that you left me. When you said you were falling for me,” he said, still dripping onto the floor outside of your apartment.

“I- … was drunk,” you started but he shook his head.

“Did you mean what you said?” he asked again, his gaze looking vulnerable and a bit tortured too.

It really was now or never, you thought to yourself. “Yes. Yes I did,” you replied, a bit faintly.

“How long have you known?” he asked, his own voice failing him slightly, cracking a bit.

“Years, Taron. But don’t stand out there, you’ll catch your death,” you said, gesturing for him to come inside. He stepped across the threshold gingerly, awkwardly, as if he hadn’t been in your apartment before. You quickly went to get him some towels and took his sopping wet coat and did your best to wring it out in the bathtub before hanging it up to dry. You couldn’t help but hide a laugh behind your hand at his appearance; he looked like a drowned rat, but it was somehow adorable.

You sat a stack of towels on the couch so he could sit and not worry about getting it all wet but you could tell he wasn’t comfortable in the least. “Why did you never say anything to me?” he asked after a moment, as you paused in the middle of your attempt to sweep up your collage work into a tidy pile.

“I knew it would ruin our friendship. I knew it would make things awful and awkward between us, and it has,” you admitted, peering over at him. He seemed lost in thought, wrestling with something, his face an open book.

“I’ve only been awkward and distant because I … I’ve had trouble coming to terms with how I felt about you. I don’t think I’ve had nearly the same courage, drunk or not. But I’ve done some thinking, and I started to realize that, y/n, it’s really always been you. You were always there, for my smallest victories to my biggest heartbreaks. You were the one tipping back a beer with me every time I landed a role. You were the one encouraging me when I felt like I wasn’t good enough. You went shopping for my first real suit for my first real awards show back in the day,” he grinned, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the memory with him.

“You were so nervous, it was darling,” you giggled.

“The hem! The hem!” he chuckled, shaking his head.

“All the pants were too long on you,” you giggled lightly as he gazed at you, biting his lip slightly.

“I don’t think we have to lose this at all,” he said softly. “I think we can make it even better. I at least want to try, because I fell for a girl a long time ago who’s been right in front of me all along. And I know that sounds super cliche, like one of those cheesy romcoms you love so much, but it’s true,” he said sweetly.

“They are brilliant pieces of cinema and you will never change my mind, Taron David Egerton!” you laughed, but your heart was also falling open at that moment as you heard the words you’d been wishing to hear for so long. You almost wanted to pinch yourself to see if this was just a dream; that’d you’d wake up tomorrow and all of this would have evaporated like mist on the wind. Before either of you could say another word, your lights went out accompanied by another loud clap of thunder, and you groaned loudly.

“Well shit,” you said, going to check the breaker box but the lights were truly out. You rummaged around under your sink and found a flashlight, flicking it on and setting it on its end so the beam of light hit the ceiling and scattered around the room, drawing weird shadows on the walls. You noticed, suddenly, that Taron was shivering quite a bit, but you weren’t sure how to solve that until you remembered you had borrowed one of his sweatshirts eons ago.

“You should get out of those wet clothes,” you said, as you went to go dig the sweatshirt out of your closet. You kept your eyes trained on the ground as you handed him a blanket and the sweatshirt, and it was enough to hear his clothes rustle as he presumably wriggled out of them, considering his jeans looked tighter than your leggings.

“I’m decent,” he chuckled once he was settled on the couch again, the blanket tucked over his lap and the sweatshirt on. He looked almost boyish now, a crooked smile on his face and his hair, which had gone fluffy as it dried, a total bedhead mess. You hung his wet clothes up on the shower rod, since the dryer wouldn’t work without power, and then sat primly on the couch next to him. He was presumably still in whatever he wore beneath his jeans, but the thought still made you blush and you were grateful for the semi-darkness now.

“So now what?” you asked quietly, feeling awkward and like you were twelve again and trying to discuss your first crush with your “bff.” Only your bff was the man you had fallen in love with.

“Oh I know how this next bit goes. You see, usually in these cheesy romcoms there’s some sort of cutesy music in the background and then the couple with all of their newly discovered attraction kisses,” Taron smirked at you, and your breath sort of caught in your throat.

“Taron, that isn’t even remotely practical!” you said, trying to laugh it off. “It’s storming like crazy outside, you’re half-naked-”

“Only half,” he interjected in a teasing manner.

“- on my couch and we don’t even know exactly how we feel about each other!” you protested, barreling through his comment.

“You so sure about that?” he asked, pulling you to him suddenly. You squeaked in surprise but didn’t pull away as his eyes searched yours for a long moment. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this,” he said, cupping your face in his hands before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours, kissing you in a way that very much could have been described as “romantic.” It opened a whole new world of feelings to you, feelings you didn’t have to pretend away anymore. You were completely head over heels for this man, and as he ran his fingers through your hair, and gazed at you in that loving way he had, you felt so totally undone but somehow put back together in all the right ways too.

You dared to kiss him back, and it was just as good the second time around, like a nice bowl of chili that warmed you all over, from the inside out. You pulled away for a moment, almost feeling shy, and settled your head against his chest instead. He instinctively wrapped his arms around you, and you could hear his heart hammering away. Just knowing you were the reason for that made you smile to yourself.

Neither of you said much as you cuddled in a way you had never done. Sure, you’d laid in each others’ arms before, half-drunk or sick or sad, but this was a new level, a mutual and deep caring for each other that went further than your friendship ever had. Or maybe it really had been leading up to this all along; you both had just never seen it until now. One thing you were certain, though, was that you could never go back now. One little taste and you wanted so much more, in its time and place, of course. You had adored him from afar for so long, and now you had the chance to show him just how much.

Just then your lights clicked back on, and both of you blinked in the sudden onslaught of light at each other.

“So what happens in the dark… stays in the dark, right?” you joked lightly, sitting up again and noticing that the blanket on his lap had shifted rather low. Your face went completely red then, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh, my dear, there’s no keeping us in the dark any longer,” he said, kissing you again but with gusto this time. You melted into him again, letting the rush of feelings wash through you, but neither of you let it go too far. There would be time enough for that in the future, a future that stretched out long ahead of you.

“I thought I would forever regret that voicemail but now it’s the single best thing I’ve ever done in my life,” you smiled at him as he sweetly brushed his thumb over your lips.

“I’ve listened to it every day since, just to make sure it was real and I hadn’t imagined it,” he said cutely. “I mean yes, I was confused and maybe even a little angry at first but mostly at myself for not seeing it sooner, for not admitting it sooner. For wasting so much time,” he said, his eyes so soft and light despite the harsh glare of your lamps.

“Time spent with you, even as just your friend, was never a waste to me,” you said quickly, squeezing his hand. “I’m just lucky, and grateful, for this now.”

“As am I,” he said, lifting your hand to his lips and placing a sweet kiss there.

“And Taron, I’ll be sure to leave you more voicemails in the future,” you said cheekily, your heart feeling so full of promise.

“I shall count on it,” he grinned back, and you would forever be able to lose yourself in that gaze. “But the best voicemail of all, was the one that brought us together.”

You nodded in agreement and sighed softly. “The one we’ll never forget.”

#taron imagine #taron x reader #taron egerton #taron fanfiction #taron fluff

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judgement-free-sideblog · 4 years

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Dancing Lessons

Barry Berkman x reader

Summary: Barry is finally cast in a feature, the problem? He said he could dance and now he can either disappoint Sally or found a way to learn some steps.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, violence, guns, cheating, drinking.

Hi! I know, I took so long to finish this, it's been a crazy couple of months but I must say that this story finally has the ending I wanted, I already had a sugarcoated ending and I didn't post it because I just didn't like it that way, but then I watch Barry again and it all click in my mind and I managed to write this last 2 chapters and the epilogue and I hope you like them.

Part 1 ● Part 2 ● Part 3 ● Part 4 ●

Part 5 ● Part 6 ● Part 7 ● Part 8 ● Epilogue

Part 7

He leaned in ready to kiss you, and for a millisecond you were sure it was going to happen, so you close your eyes and take a small breath ready to feel his lips... but then a floral and feminine fragance lingered under the alcohol and the thought of blonde hair and a bright smile flash before your eyes, and made you speak.

"But I care" You said, and he immediately stop and let you go, he look at you with sad eyes, and was about to start apologizing about how he didn't mean to offend you but you spoke first.

"I like you Barry, I am attracted to you so much that is shameful, especially since tonight for the first time in almost 5 years I felt like a school girl willing to fall down the rabbit hole that is being attracted to someone, and I'm beyond happy knowing you like me as well" it took all the strength in your body to say those words and keep looking into his eyes without crying but you managed, and decided to say it all before the fear betrayed you. "But the truth is that even if I don't feel like that for my husband anymore, I'm still with him, and you're still with Sally, and this adolescent crush, or whatever this is, will be a drunken mistake in the morning, and I care too much about you to let you ruin your relationship, because I'm sure you do love her" you took a deep breath then and try to keep talking but now was impossible, the shameful revelation that you were actually no longer in love with Alan was out and it hurt more than you expected.

"I'm sorry" He started, and pulled you closer to him again, but there was no longer the electricity that had been there minutes before, he simply hold you while you let your bitter tears roll and caress your hair. "You are right, I been trying to lied to me all this time, but you are right, I wanted you, and it's wrong, and if someone has to be ashamed of his behavior is me, I spend the night with you knowing that you are married and I didn't care, and it was for the selfish purpose of being with you."

You pull apart one last time, and your whole body ached, knowing too well that this was the end of something that hasn't even started, but your conciousness was now in charge and this was the right thing to do.

Because in the end you were sure you have fallen for the same reason he had, he wanted Sally to be more like you, willing to leave everything for him, and you wanted Alan to be mor like him, changing his entire self to fit your dreams, under no circumstances was that healthy, nor real, and you both knew that neither was happy.

You said your goodbyes, and the empty promise to pretend to keep being friends, but the quick excuses you made to avoid him the next days and let him alone practicing with Macy, let clear that it was not going to work.

Because even when it was just a fantasy, just a dream, just the idea of something better, it still hurt. It hurt when you accidentally saw him on the street on a date with his beautiful girlfriend, and you could see the light in his eyes when he saw you, and the subsequent sadness because you were now sure that he wanted you too, it hurt even when you were walking on Alan's arm, because seeing him kiss her make your husband efforts to gain your forgiveness seem empty, specially since the tears he saw in your eyes that day were not his doing, but Barry's.

It hurt because, it was not just an idea, not just the idealization of the sweet midwestern boy with perfect blue eyes, it hurt because you love him.

***

Loosing her was hard, pretending to be okay without her gentle touch, and her playful teasing during rehearsals was harder, but seeing her with her husband on the street was heartbreaking, Barry knew he didn't deserve her, but neither did Alan.

In the second he saw him next to Sally he tried to hide, and pull away from Y/N, maybe to prevent Sally to figure out he was cheating on his friend. That's why he kissed her, to avoid confrontation, and a couple minutes later while she was in the bathroom, and Y/N was paying in a store Alan approach him, with his false smile bright.

"Hey Barry was it?" He said, and offered him a hand, that Barry took repressing the urge to punch his teeth out.

"Hey" Asshole "So you broke up with Monique?" Or is that your sister?" He said trying to sound naive, but his eyes were clearly looking at his wedding band.

"No, that's Y/N, she's my wife" He said, with no shame, and Barry was surprised, but maybe a little pride. "You know how it is, huh?" He playfully punch him on the shoulder.

"Sure, she is quite beautiful" He said feeling the words burning in his tongue "Do you think she wants to meet Sally?" He add completely serious and Alan gave him a perplex look. "I'm kidding, but you should leave, she is in the bathroom"

"My man" he said and put his arm around him like they were friends "you almost got me, yeah she is quite something, but too chatty sometimes" Barry was about to break his arm, pleading the skies for Sally or Y/N to see them so it all could end, but he let go first "Thanks, I'll go before they meet, thanks Berkman, you are a real Bro"

"Sure, bro" he answered monotony, and saw him walk away, shaking, missing like never before having a gun in his pocket.

"So I was thinking" Sally said on their way home, he had been pretending to listen about all her fabulous new friends and definitely not thinking in a way to eliminate a certain lawyer.

"Um huh?"

"About what you said a week ago" She said and let go a deep sigh "And I think that maybe cheating won't be an issue if you are both okay okay about it"

Thankfully she was wearing a seatbelt, because he braked abruptly and almost caused and accident.

"What?" He said and she look at him concerned but also embarrassed by the way she had formulated her statement.

"No like that, I mean, maybe if people were completely honest with their partners and their boundaries they would not need to cheat" She said and he was able to keep driving normally until they get to her house.

"So people should tell each other I want to sleep with someone else, be okay with that?" He was trying to not be mean or sarcastic, but it was almost impossible.

They put the groceries in the kitchen and he sit on her couch, and she sit in front of him.

"No, I mean more like maybe people should not commit so much in a relationship if they are not ready for it" She said, and he finally understand where she was going.

"So you want to be with someone else and I'm on the way?" He said more bluntly than he wanted, maybe his time with Y/N have had a negative impact on him.

"Oh my God no!" She said quickly "But maybe you do?" She add.

"I will never cheat on you Sally" LIAAAAR "I'm really confused right now"

"I know you wouldn't" She started and put her hand on his knees tenderly "Is just that with Sam I run into commitment so soon, and I'm afraid that I'm doing the same right now, and what if I'm in the middle of your own journey as an actor, or you in mine? Is not like I'm interested on other men, is just that I think I should be more interested in me as a person, as an artist" She said, she sound sincere but something about her words made him feel like she had rehearsed her speech at least a couple times before. "What I'm trying to say is that maybe, just maybe we should take a break you know? You should focus on your movie, and I should focus on my projects and in a couple months when things are cool down at work we could have more time for each other" She said and she tried to smile.

"Focus on your projects? So you wouldn't be dating anyone?" He said holding his hands in fists, trying to not start screaming at her.

"I don't think I have time for that" She said in al calmed voice "But I would not be mad at you if you do" She said and that was enough for him.

"Ok" He said and stood up trying to leave.

"Wait Barry, you can stay, is just an idea" she tried to stop him but was cautious enough to not touch him, and he felt a pain on his chest knowing why, he would never act like her stupid ex husband, so he calmed immediately and turned around.

"It's okay, I may not want this, but if you do, it's okay, I will see you in a couple months then" He avoid kiss her goodbye and simply walk out of her house.

He got on his car and start driving nowhere in particular, after almost half an hour he was willing to think about what had just happened, he lost Sally, and put Y/N firmly in the arms of her stupid husband. He was now truly alone, and maybe that's why when the black truck that had been following him pass next to him and a bald man covered in tattoos make him a sing to drive behind him he didn't think of escaping, if this was the moment the Chechens were waiting it was perfect, he had nothing left to lose.

#barry hbo #barry x reader #barry fanfiction #barry berkman fanfiction #barry block #barry berkman #bill hader #barry berkman edit #barry berkman x reader #barry berkman x you #barry berkman imagine

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winryofresembool · 5 years

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Edwin fic: A Haircut

A/N: Long time no fics (again). Feels like I’m saying that too often these days. But anyway, here is finally one! This.... probably doesn’t /actually/ happen in canon as in all the post promised day shots of Winry she has long hair but I wanted to write this anyway so here we go. I imagine this fic takes place a few months into the boys’ return to Resembool, and Edwin is starting to act a bit coupley. Please enjoy and review! This fic is dedicated to @stephysketchy for being such a super nice person :’)

Words: 2200ish

Genre: guess.(Floof)

Warnings: none

...

“Did you hear that Annie cut her hair short after breaking up with her boyfriend? I saw her yesterday and I can tell you guys, it doesn’t suit her at all.”

It was an early morning, and Winry was sitting at a small Resembool café with her old friends Nelly and Mary, after deciding to give herself a break from working on her current automail project for a day. Her granny had recommended she should try to bond with her old classmates more now that the whole Promised Day disaster was over and she was allowed to leave the house. However, Winry quite quickly realized it was not a very good idea, in the end.

It had been almost a year since she had last seen either of her friends because of all the traveling, working and hiding. So much had happened during that year, making the emotional gap between her and her Resembool friends wider than she had imagined. Winry supposed it was called growth. She was no longer the same person she had been. Meanwhile, these girls, who knew nothing about the recent events of Amestris, were still in the same spot where they had been when they previously met. They still gossiped shamelessly with no worries about what anyone would think of them, while Winry was already ready to leave the café and never come back. But she decided to try to be patient; maybe they would change the topic soon.

“Really?” Mary asked, pulling Winry back from her frustrated thoughts. “What a shame. Her hair was so pretty. Did she explain why she did that?”

“Yep,” Nelly nodded. “Apparently she had heard some people cut their hair after a big change in their lives, such as a break up. But if you ask me, that’s a liiittle bit overdramatic. I wouldn’t ruin my hair for a boy.” She twirled her long tresses proudly.

There was a loud bang on the table. “OK, I have heard enough,” Winry announced angrily, a venomous expression on her face. “Can you hear how awful you guys sound? What if Annie was talking about you guys the same way? How would you feel about that?”

“I…”

“Uh…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too,” Winry hissed. “Annie is allowed to do whatever she wants with her hair. If you guys have nothing better to talk about, I’m gonna go back to my workshop. At least the metals are something I understand.”

Winry rose from her seat and made a dramatic exit that she imagined Ed would have been proud of. She wondered briefly how he would have reacted to the girls’ conversation. Probably the same way she did (except, even more dramatic if possible), she concluded, and continued towards her home.

However, one part of the conversation did stick to her mind: the reason behind Annie’s hair cut. It made her think about her own life and the changes she had gone through. The apprenticeship in Rush Valley. The Promised Day and events that had led to it. A few months ago, she had finally gotten her two best friends back, and things had calmed down notably. She didn’t have to worry about Ed and Al anymore, and she was free to do whatever she wanted. That was a feeling she wasn’t used to, but something told her she should embrace it. She should do something she hadn’t done in a long while, and now she knew what it was.

She would cut her hair short.

Sure, there were also more practical reasons why she wanted to do it: the long hair got easily stuck between the metal plates and joints when she was working on automail, and in the summer heat her ponytail got all sweaty, but more than that, she wanted to see this hair cut as a symbol of the new, more peaceful part of her life. Besides, she smirked to herself, she would definitely love to see her “friends’” expressions when she’d show up at the town center with the short hair. And – a tiny voice spoke inside her – maybe she was also a little bit curious about how a certain golden-haired boy would react. She hoped he wouldn’t hate it even if it was her own opinion that mattered the most.

...

A couple of hours later, Winry stepped out of a hairdresser’s shop. She was sporting an bob cut that was slightly shorter from the back than front and a content smile that was nearly as wide as Ed’s. In her opinion, the cut had been a success and she was quite positive Ed and Al would like it too. Now all she had to do was to go home and see what would happen.

…

“Hello?” Is anyone home?”

Den ran to greet Winry when she opened the door, but to her slight disappointment the boys weren’t anywhere to be seen. She figured they must have been jogging somewhere, working on Al’s stamina. Her granny, however, gave her a couple of compliments about her hair when she found her from the kitchen. Pinako remembered that Winry’s mother had had exactly the same kind of hair cut when she had started dating her son and showed Winry an old photograph of her from that time. In the picture Sara was wearing a blue summer dress that Pinako believed was still in her late son and daughter-in-law’s old room. Winry wanted to see it, leaving her granny to cook and digging into the wardrobe of her mother.

For a moment, Winry felt overwhelmed as she smelled her mother’s dresses and remembered the times when she had seen them on her. After wiping a couple tears from her cheek, she noticed the one she had been looking for and gently took it out of the closet. She tried it on and was happy to notice it fit to her.

The dress in question was a light blue cotton dress, with a long ribbon going around the waist. Its sleeves were short and the hem about knee-length for Winry. She thought it would be quite suitable for the picnic she and the boys had planned for that day; not too fancy but still comfortable for the warm weather. The color also seemed to match her eyes.

The young woman took a look at the clock on the wall and realized it was almost lunch time; Ed and Al would probably come back from their work out session soon. Leaving the blue dress on, she quickly organized the rest of her mother’s dresses back into the closet and went to help her granny to pack the food for the picnic.

“You seem awfully eager about the picnic today,” Pinako noted suddenly as they were filling the basket, taking a look at Winry’s appearance. “Are you sure you are not trying to impress someone?”

“What, who would I need to impress?” she tried casually but blushed a bit nevertheless.

“Winry, I may be old but not blind,” Pinako shook her head but let the topic be.

The boys were waiting in the hall when Winry came there with the picnic basket. At first Ed was more focused on the basket, curious about its contents, but when he turned to see Winry, his mouth went wide open.

“Something’s different about you,” he stammered wisely.

“Well, yeah, brother, she has cut her hair short!” Al said like it should have been the most obvious thing. “Can’t believe how blind you are. Oh, is that a new dress, too, Winry? Both the dress and the hairstyle suit you very well!”

“Thank you, Al! No, it’s my mother’s old dress, but this is the first time I’m using it!” Winry beamed happily, satisfied that at least Al had noticed what was different.

Al nudged Ed on his arm, telling him to say something too.

“Umm… the hair looks… nice?”

“Just nice?” Winry’s happiness turned into disappointment. “You should be happy you won’t be getting so many long hair between your knee joints from now on…”

“Winry, I think when brother says ‘nice’ he means he thinks it’s super pretty,” Al tried to calm her down.

“Oh, well,” Winry sighed. “Anyway, let’s go then.”

On their way to their favorite picnic spot, Winry, who was walking in front of the brothers, felt that she was being stared at the entire time. Her suspicions turned out to be true when she first heard Al whispering something, and Ed, incapable of staying quiet, immediately yelled back: “I’m not staring, I’m just… checking that nothing falls out of the basket!”

“And sheep can fly, brother,” Al snickered back, not having any of it.

Winry smiled contently, glad she had gotten some reaction from Ed after all.

“I’m hoping none of that milk I packed has spilled over, that would be a disaster, wouldn��t it, Ed?” she asked slyly.

“I… what? Why did you pack milk?! Al, she’s crazy.”

“That’s how I know you didn’t actually pay attention to the basket, you would definitely have noticed the milk,” Winry laughed and Ed turned bright red.

“Way to make him silent, Winry!” Al exclaimed and reached to give her a high five.

Ed mumbled something to himself, but the others couldn’t hear what was being said, other than possibly giving a second thought to something.

…

Eventually, the trio reached a spot where they could see all the way to the Resembool lake and spread the sheet on the grass. As an “apology” to Ed for her earlier teasing, Winry sat right next to him and fed him grapes from her hand. Al just watched the two of them with amusement. They still hadn’t made an official “announcement” about dating, but everyone within a 5-mile radius from them knew what was going on.

Ed broke the peaceful silence by asking: “So, why did you cut your hair? I thought you liked the long hair.”

“I did!” Winry answered. “But… You remember Mary and Nelly, right? I heard them mocking someone’s short hair, and… I want to show them that they are wrong.” “That sounds like something you would do,” Ed laughed and patted Winry on her head. Then he combed his fingers through her blonde locks to test how it would feel like, a move weirdly intimate for him. Al decided he should let the other two have a moment alone and pointed towards the road: “Oh, look! Mr. Jackman is there with his dog! I should go say I hi to them, I need to thank him for borrowing… um, something. I’ll be right back.”

“OK, Al. Don’t stay too long, the soup will get cold.” Winry said after him.

“So…” Ed grumbled, not sure what to say once they were alone.

“So…”

“It feels so different from earlier,” he stated after twirling a lock of her hair between his fingers. “In a good way!” he responded to Winry’s questioning look. “I mean, my fingers don’t get tangled into it anymore.”

“Silly. I’m glad you are enjoying it that much. But yeah, it’s much easier to take care of now too. And I should be able to inspect your automail more closely too now that it won’t get stuck there.” She winked.

Chills went through Ed’s spine. “Hey! Don’t… talk to me like that here! We’re in public!”

“And could be heard by whom? Mr. Jackman seems to be chatting with Al eagerly and I don’t see anyone else nearby.”

“You really are a bit crazy,” Ed said but pulled her closer to him. “Anyway, why do I think you are not telling me everything about the reason why you cut your hair?”

“Sometimes you’re too curious for your own good, alchemy geek.” Winry gave him a disapproving look.

“C’mon, you can tell me.”

Winry poked her fingers together nervously. “Well, they say that… some people like to get a haircut after they have experienced some big life change…”

“And?” Ed urged her to continue.

“That is kinda why I wanted to do it,” Winry answered. “Because… this situation is new to us. I mean… we… have lost a lot on our journey, but… now we have reached this point. We are safe… and we can do whatever we want, right?”

Ed seemed to think about it for a little while. “Well, when you put it that way… it makes sense. So, what is it that you want to do?”

“I want to become the best automail mechanic I can be! But… right now? This is probably gonna sound lame to you… but I just want to enjoy this moment.”

She snuggled closer to Ed’s arm, waiting for his response.

“Nah, I get what you mean,” he said to Winry’s surprise and wrapped an arm around her. “By the way… I think it suits you.”

“What?”

“Your new hair! I… really do like it.”

“I figured as much,” Winry chuckled, nudging him gently. Before she could get too comfortable on Ed’s lap, though, his stomach started grumbling, telling them it was time to eat.

“We should tell Al to come back as well,” Winry pointed out, nodding towards the two men still talking a few dozen metres away.

“I guess you’re right,” Ed snorted and hid his face into a huge sandwich.

#edwin #edxwin #edward elric #winry rockbell #fullmetal alchemist #my fics

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fydk-translations · 5 years

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Cine21, Jan ‘19 issue: Kyungsoo interview

[mild spoilers for swing kids]

Q. Let’s start from Swing Kids (2018), your latest. Ro Kisoo goes about ruffling feathers, and his flashiness stands out from the rest of your filmography. I had a lot of discussions with the director on what was best for Kisoo. There was [a boy in] an old reference picture almost exactly like Kisoo’s character. He was in an old school uniform and wore his army cap tilted; even his pants were wide and baggy. He seemed trendy for the time and I drew a lot of direction from the picture.

Q. Ro Kisoo expresses himself through dance. What sort of experience was it for you, as his actor? When I stand on stage as an EXO member, our choreography and formations are already determined. It was harder as Kisoo because there needed to be emotion in every one of his movements and expressions. I was especially worried about conveying the scene where he dances to David Bowie’s Modern Love in a way that the viewers would find refreshing and freeing. It reminded me of my first time trying to dance - frustration because my body wouldn’t listen to me, how good it felt to get each move down. Also, I could dance as I pleased because the director would capture the whole routine and the big emotions. Big movements for happiness, fast ones for frustration. To be honest, I was surprised by the final cut of that sequence. I didn’t realize how brightly I had been smiling. That dancing is something happy and to be enjoyed is what I’d felt as a musician too, but I had felt this so strongly that the smile came naturally.

Q. It wasn’t something you planned to act out, but constant dancing is of course tiring, and that starts to show on your face. I’ve seen other actors say that actors who also know how to dance are better at filming action scenes, so it seems that your music career helps your acting one. All that happens when you try to put emotion into motions you aren’t comfortable making is that you ruin the movements and expressions. So for scenes where they’re both important, like the Modern Love one, I made myself familiar. When my body can move without my input, it’s possible to be expressive. All I could do was practice. Action scenes and dancing do have a lot in common, so I did have a little know-how from applying what I had already learned.

Q. The first and second halves of Swing Kids have totally different tones. As its leading actor, you must have put a lot of thought into handling the clash well. There was a part that I worried over for a while, without straying too far from how Kisoo would feel. The film’s tone shifts after the arrival of a supposed friend, Kwang-guk, to the prison camp. Kisoo’s mood worsens, but a sour face would have thrown off the intended tone. Kisoo wasn’t supposed to get too caught up in the atmosphere of that scene, and I kept his expression flat.

Q. It also seems like acting dryly ties in with your own disposition. I wonder all the time why, in acting, anger has to be obvious, why there needs to be yelling. Because I’ve never expressed my anger that way. I usually try not to let my emotions complicate issues. Of course, I have to adjust because characters have their own personalities, but I went with what felt natural to me for Kisoo.

Q. Swing Kids features both snappy cuts and long takes. Did you worry about how the editing room would preserve the rhythm of the scenes? I found it interesting rather than worrying. I liked the long takes because those let me get immersed in a location. I had so much fun with the scenes like the one where Kisoo keeps thinking about tap-dancing even in his sleep, and it would cut away each time with a tak-tak-tak! I really wondered how the end result would turn out. The Modern Love scene in particular, because (Park) Hyesoo and I had practiced and filmed for it separately. I was curious about what kind of picture that would make after editing, and I’m very happy with how it turned out. (laughs)

Q. There were a lot of iconic lines from the tvN drama 100 Days My Prince (2018). Bad delivery for the funny ones like “am I the only one uncomfortable?” and “the feeling you feel” would have weakened a sageuk, but you did really well with them. I don’t really dwell over how my lines should be said. The lines with the potential to become popular might have been funnier if their deliveries were lighter. But that wouldn’t make sense for a crown prince who had just lost his memory. To be honest, I did have some concern over making them more palatable. In the end, the answer was that I should just speak as the character would speak. That’s how I decided on the delivery.

Q. Conventional wisdom says that, for TV dramas, one must act in a way that the viewer will know what your character is feeling even if they’re not paying full attention. It seems your acting in 100 Days My Prince ran contrary to that. In the first half, you didn’t look at Hong Shim like you were in love. I think I just did what felt right. It would have been more romantic to look at each other like honey could fall from our eyes, as the saying goes, but that was unrealistic and wouldn’t have felt natural.

Q. Actor Sung Dongil said in an interview once that when he acts, he thinks of meeting the number 100 when acting with another. If the other is acting at a 70, he acts at 30. I think you make a good case for this with My Annoying Brother (2016) and Room No. 7 (2017) - in Room No. 7, actor Shin Hakyun made much larger actions than you, and in Brother, actor Jo Jungseok put much more flare into his character. I totally get what you’re saying. If there’s a character who brings the energy up, it’s good for watchability and tone and manner to have another who brings the energy down. I also learned how to lend realism to characters from Hakyun sunbae and about Jungseok hyung’s acting style.

Q. You’re the type of person who works diligently outside of the spotlight. I found that, in Room No. 7, you were constantly moving about in the background of some scenes, without distracting the viewer. Some of those parts came from talking with the director, but I wanted to fill up the space too. I found it fun to find things to do as my character that wouldn’t get in the way of the other actors. Even if the camera angle would barely catch a finger and I could honestly relax, I’d rather be doing something.

Q. The two most disparate pieces in your filmography are director Lee Byunghun’s Be Positive (2017) and the movie series Along with the Gods. Your acting as the problem soldier Private Won was especially convincing in Along with the Gods: Two Worlds (2017). I thought there was nothing smooth about acting as Won Dongyeon, and that was reflected in-universe with the film. I have yet to serve in the military, and I’d never put a noose around my neck over the guilt of causing another’s death. The director helped me a lot. We talked about his personal experiences, as well as the characters. Much of my base [for Private Won] were films and other indirect experiences.

Q. In a previous interview, you said that Private Won was the most saddening of your characters and that you probably wouldn’t act as someone that pitiable again. I found it amusing how he was introduced as a problem soldier who kills an innocent and thus might get hate. Right, that’s not wrong... (with a seeking gaze) but doesn’t he make you feel sorry for him? He made a mistake that killed someone, wasn’t able to defend himself to anyone - I felt so bad for how much he suffered from circumstance. I understand why some would hate him, but I still think of him as the most saddening of my roles.

Q. To be honest, while your acting as Private Won can be commended, the character himself is not admirable at all. People might misunderstand the actor because of the character. Many of your previous roles were of troubled, depressed youths let down by society. Did you not worry as an actor? Not at all. It’s not like all my roles have been dark, and I try to express a part of myself with each character anyway. I think, as long as I keep trying new things, the people who think that way will stop misunderstanding me.

Q. Then in that regard, Swing Kids’ Ro Kisoo is an important point for you. Very. He’s a very dear figure to me. I wonder what will come next? What do I have left to show? It’s exciting to think about.

Q. I can’t help but wish to see you a character with a lot of aegyo, maybe because you dislike it so much that even variety programs comment on it. (laughs) I think it’d be a fun role. I don’t hate the thought. (laughs)

Q. When you appeared on Naver’s Actor Chatter, you mentioned that if you could film a drama with actress Kim Hyesoo, you’d like it to be an introspective office drama where you’re a new recruit to her team. Then Park Kyunglim said, “And not a rom com? Kim Hyesoo might have a word with you!” To which you said, “With me? How could I (dare)...” Why do you think it’s so impossible? How would that even happen! I’d be incredibly honored, but there’s no chance of it happening.

Q. Maybe if your character was like Jung Haein’s in JTBC’s Something in the Rain (2018), where noonas dote on his cuteness... That’d be really nice. I’d like to try being in a drama like Secret Affair (2014) too. I look forward to melodramas in the future, and trying out thrillers...

Q. Yeah, you were good in I Remember You (2015). Really? (laughs) Someone like him is good too, but I’d like to try acting as a completely average person. I’d rather embrace a variety of characters, not just one type.

Q. It’s Okay, It’s Love (2014) and Cart (2014) were your first and second released projects, respectively. You had to act as a victim of ALS; I wonder how you prepared for it when you’d never even gotten acting lessons before that point. For that, I had watched documentaries for indirect experience that I could use with my imagination to make [it seem believable].

Q. I heard that writer No Heekyung helped you a lot as you were starting out? It’s a given that she taught me skills, like how recounting things in staccato will help me with my pronunciation, but she talked with me about the characters too. I absolutely want to work with her again. I really enjoyed Live (2018) and its focus on daily life; my favorite of her projects is the film The Most Beautiful Goodbye (2011). I related to it a lot.

Q. I’m curious about how you figure out characters when aspects of them don’t overlap with you. Right now, are you more the type to conduct deep research, or the type to think it out? I look inside a lot. Of course I do my research too, but I leave the next step to my imagination. Sometimes seeing the actual props on set help, but the more I think through my character’s personality and mentality and how he would act or speak, the more the set seems to build itself. That’s what I’ve been doing so far.

Q. There are actors who write diaries in-character, or go through the day performing their character’s routines, or make exhaustive notes on their role. Mm, I don’t write anything down. My favorite scripts are clean and light, and I just keep it all in my head. My memory isn’t great, so I think trying to be exact would make acting too complicated for me. It’s easier for me to play things out mentally and then concentrate hard on set.

Q. Didn’t you say that yelling at your mom in Cart was very hard for you, because it’s something you’d never done? How did you resolve it back then, and what do you do with similar impasses now? I played everything out in my head then, too. I just did it on set. How would I get angry when I’m by myself? I’m too shy to practice being angry in my room all alone or with the EXO members helping. (laughs)

Q. So you’re the type who just needs to be on set. I’m still not good at yelling. During Cart, I just said to myself (makes a sad face) “I’ll just do it when I get there,” but acting it out was actually thrilling. It was a huge thrill to feel what I’d never felt and to do what I hadn’t done.

Q. When I view your filmography, I get the sense that directors love your eyes. You get unique close-ups that show off the fleeting emotions in your gaze. Is there anything in particular you do to act with your eyes? Uh... (thinks for a long time) I don’t do anything except stay in-character. My eyes are a bit weak. Whenever my immune system drops or I get too much sun, they dry out quickly and turn bloodshot. It would bother the viewer if I blink too much during a touching moment, so I put a lot of focus on my health. My eyesight is honestly really bad. I can’t monitor well on set, so watching the fully produced release, when I can have glasses on, will be my first time properly viewing myself. I can’t wear contact lenses either. I’m told it’s because the surface of my corneas aren’t curved like normal. When I put in lenses, my eyelids will push them down. So I wear glasses.

Q. There must be a certain comfort to live with the other EXO members, who also have their own acting projects. It’s closer to gratitude from their support than comfort. We don’t talk about our acting. Like I mentioned earlier, I get too embarrassed to practice acting with them.

Q. Have you ever given advice they took? I don’t. They’ve pointed out to me when I was slouching or hanging my head before, but we’ve never given each other acting advice. It’s not like I have any seniority. So how could I, when we’re all in the same boat? (laughs)

Q. There are people who police what it means to be a man - including in terms of physical build - and like to suggest actors who fit their mold for certain genres [over other actors who don’t]. It was very gratifying for me to watch you find success in 100 Days My Prince, maybe because you defy those definitions. I don’t think much of their advice either. The admiration you feel from someone’s abilities, personality, or mentality is what matters. And I act for myself - I just want to figure out my own path, and to give my best in order to show my best.

Q. Every time, without fail, you seem unsure whenever someone compliments on your ability or charm. Yet, no matter how I look at it, you have high self-esteem. How would you reconcile this? When someone keeps complimenting me, I feel embarrassed. Like I’m seriously going crazy (laughs). Even by my own judgment, I think I have a pretty high self-esteem; it’s important to have self-esteem. Except it might not be connected to my abilities, but with my well-being instead. I have to stay firm so that I’m not ruined by stress, so that I can keep going.

Q. During last year’s appearance on Knowing Brothers, I saw you say you hoped to be a farmer one day. You like cooking too, so I was wondering if you wanted a life like you’d see in Little Forest (2018)? (laughs) The Little Forest series (2014) from Japan is a big influence for me. I’d like to cook with what I grow, and to live in good health in a small, quiet home. I don’t know when it’ll happen, but I hope it’s possible by my late thirties or early forties.

source: @wallnuut | translation: fydk

#translation #t:interview #2019 #d.o.#kyungsoo #exo #fydk

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chaotic-woso · 5 years

Text

Is It Okay if I Call You Mine - Ch. 2 - CarolxMaria fic

Cross-posted from AO3

First chapter here

Fandom - Captain Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe

Ships - Carol Danvers/Maria Rambeau

Characters - Carol Danvers, Maria Rambeau, Dr. Wendy Lawson, Monica Rambeau

Rating - T

Summary - Multi-chapter fic exploring the relationship between Carol Danvers and Maria Rambeau as they become the Rambeau-Danvers family. Spans across different moments in the Carol-Maria relationship, from before they get together (because let’s all agree, they are t o g e t h e r in this film even if Marvel won’t come out and say it), to various milestones and slices of life in their relationship after they start actually dating, living together, mutually pining for each other, etc.

Ch. 2 - Carol embraces the role of supportive best friend and lots of mutual pining occurs

Maria decides to have the baby and she finally convinces her (begs endlessly) to join Dr. Lawson’s project, knowing Lawson will be far more supportive of Maria's choice than any of the officers at Maria’s current posting. But if she’s being honest with herself, her motivations are totally selfish. She misses working alongside her best friend, misses hearing her voice over the comms while she flies, misses the way everything between them just comes naturally, like they were born in sync with one another.

They don’t talk about the baby’s father and they don’t talk about that morning in the kitchen where Carol knows they were on the precipice of something. She throws herself into the role of supportive best friend and pretends that everything is normal, everything is fine. Her priority is Maria and the baby, not her own emotional turmoil.

After two months of long drives from Maria’s place to Pegasus, multiple doctor’s appointments that she insists on accompanying Maria to, and less and less time spent at her own place, Maria moves and Carol moves with her.

“It’ll be just like in Basic!” she says excitedly when she gives Maria her long spiel on why they should become roommates again.

Maria narrows her eyes at her.

“You mean you pounding on my door every morning before the sun was up so we could go on an extra run before everyone else was up? Or do you mean you snoring so loud I could barely sleep cuz it sounded like someone was running a chainsaw in our bunk? Or --”

“I did not snore.”

“You do snore, Danvers. Let’s not pretend it’s something you’ve grown out of.”

“I’ll be in my own room, down the hall, behind a closed door. You’ll never hear a peep.”

Maria crosses her arms, extremely skeptical.

She straightens her back and gets ready to play her trump card.

“I’ll do the dishes,” she says, waits.

Maria quirks an eyebrow.

“Every night,” she adds, waits again. She puts on her best pout, tries to look as endearing as possible.

Maria makes her suffer for a few more moments and then sighs. It’s the sigh she makes when she knows she’s lost and there’s no sense in arguing any further.

“Okay, fine. You can move in with me.”

“Yes!” she exclaims and pumps her fist in victory. She throws her arms around Maria and hugs her tight. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Maria’s arms are trapped at her sides, her barely-there bump nestled between them.

“Don’t make me regret this already, Danvers,” Maria warns.She releases Maria immediately and steps away, snaps to attention.

“I won’t let you down, ma'am,” she responds and mock salutes.

Maria rolls her eyes but can’t hide the smile on her face.

“You’re a fool, Carol Danvers.”

She smiles back at Maria, can’t stop the feeling of happiness that spreads through her whole body.

“That may be true, but I’m your fool and that’s all that matters.”

Maria shakes her head and holds her hand out to Carol.

“Come on, let’s go find us a house.”

They find a small place not far from base - two bedrooms, a decent kitchen, tiny backyard, enough for now. It’s not the place Maria plans to raise her child, but it will get them through the next year or two.

Time passes and they fall into an easy routine, both at work and at home. It shouldn’t surprise her just how smoothly it comes together; they’ve always made a great team. Maria has always understood her, knows how to handle her on good days and bad days. She lets her be herself, no questions asked. And she tries her damnedest to make sure she does the same for Maria.

At night she sneaks Maria’s copy of ‘What to Expect When You’re Expecting,’ reads about trimesters and prenatal care, the size of the fetus at each weekly milestone, how to handle morning sickness and prevent stretch marks. A lot of the stuff in the book freaks her out, especially the chapter on childbirth, but it also reinforces what she already knows to be true - Maria is a goddamn badass warrior woman.

She keeps the house stocked with saltines and ginger ale, goes on late-night runs for bizarre food and ice cream combinations (the baby apparently likes Rocky Road with Cheetos, something Carol tries once and never again). She rubs Maria’s feet when they get sore after a long day working on Dr. Lawson’s planes, buys her extra pillows so she can sleep more comfortably as the baby grows. She cries when they hear the baby’s heart beat for the first time, even more than Maria does. She keeps an ultrasound photo taped to the control panel of her bird and another copy tucked in the visor of her Mustang.

Maria teases her and calls her a big ol’ sap, and she can’t even argue back because it is so damn true. She is in deep.

She decides to start a college fund for the kid but doesn’t tell Maria. She hates having a secret between them, but she knows Maria would adamantly refuse any kind of monetary help, would see it as a sign of weakness. She starts it off small with a couple hundred dollars and contributes to it every month from her paycheck.

She figures in eighteen years she’ll have come up with a good enough argument as to why she did this, and Maria will be unable to refuse. What she doesn’t know, has no possible way of foreseeing, is that Maria will actually find out about it in just six years’ time when a lawyer goes through Carol’s will and lists a bank account with one Monica Rambeau as the beneficiary, to be made accessible on the day of her eighteenth birthday.

Maria will both loathe and love Carol in that moment, will hate her so strongly for leaving them, for her life being reduced to a series of objects and documents. But she will also love her, will always love her, for thinking of Monica as her own, as someone worth investing in and caring for even before she was born, before they were together, before Monica became Carol’s in every way but biologically.

But Carol has no idea that's what lies ahead. Right now everything is pretty damn near perfect she thinks, and she doesn't see how anything could ruin it.

“Have you thought about names?” Carol asks Maria one evening while they're sitting in their tiny backyard watching the sun go down and sipping iced tea.

“I got a couple in mind,” Maria answers but purposefully doesn't elaborate.

Carol tilts her sunglasses down and looks over at her.

“You gonna share or just keep 'em to yourself?”

Maria gives back her own sassy look over the rims of her aviators.

“You just want to know if 'Carol’ is on the list.”

Carol places a hand to her chest and gasps.

“I'm wounded you think I'm that vain.”

“You are that vain, Danvers. You spend ten minutes every morning checking yourself out in the bathroom mirror - don't think I don't know what you're up to in there when I'm trying to get your ass out the door.”

“Can't help it that I look so damn good I distract myself sometimes,” she smirks back, her cockiest grin in full effect.

Maria rolls her eyes (probably for at least the tenth time that day) and she definitely does not let them fall back to Carol and linger on the exposed curve of her neck that glows golden in the setting sun, and she most certainly does not notice the way Carol's arms flex as she grips the arms of her chair, projecting strength and power even when she's at rest.

Maria gulps her ice tea and turns away, misses the self-satisfied look that crosses Carol's face.

That woman is such a damn tease sometimes. It's gonna get her in real trouble one day.

“Well if you won't share your list, I'll tell you mine,” Carol pipes up.

Maria's head whips back to Carol.

“You have a list?”

“Sure I do,” Carol shrugs. “I kinda got bored the last time we were at the doctor's and I was waiting for them to finish all your tests and stuff. They had one of those baby name books lying around so I flipped through it.”

Maria's eyes narrow suspiciously.

“You mean the baby name book you gave me last month that you said you picked up at a used book shop?”

Carol has the decency to look slightly ashamed and shrinks back in her chair.

“Uhhhh….no?” she replies, very unconvincingly.

All she can do is shake her head. There's never a dull moment with this woman.

“Carol, you have to bring it back next time.”

“But you already marked it up! They'll know.”

“I didn't write in it, I just have sticky notes marking the pages with the names I like.”

Carol sighs.

“Fine, I'll bring it back. But promise you won't make me confess? The receptionist lady doesn't like me very much as it is.”

She rolls her eyes - again, make that eleven times today - and pinches the bridge of her nose. People ask her if she’ll be able to handle a child on her own; she lives with Carol Danvers - she’s got loads of experience, she’ll manage just fine.

“Maybe if you stopped rearranging her magazine display every time we go there and didn’t steal their books, she’d find you a tad more endearing.”

Carol crosses her arms and huffs.

“It’s not my fault she can’t take a joke.”

If her child ends up half as stubborn as its Auntie Carol she’s in for years of trouble.

“Just bring the damn book back, you goof. Now are you gonna tell me your names or what?”

Carol pouts a bit longer and ignores her question. She sips her iced tea and waits, knows Carol will come around in her own good time.

A few more moments of scowling into the distance later, and then Carol mellows back out, sunny disposition restored.

“Well...I think an M name would sound good,” Carol starts. “Then you two could match, ya know? M and M Rambeau.”

“You've really thought about this.”

Carol's cheeks pink in embarrassment. It makes her look cuter than she has any right to be.

“I...I guess, yeah.”

Maria smiles at her encouragingly.

“Well, whatcha got for M names?”

Carol perks up.

“You really want to hear?”

“I asked didn't I? But I still get final say when the big day comes.”

“Of course, of course,” Carol agrees. “It's your kid after all, I'm just the cool aunt.”

Maria wonders if Carol knows she's so much more than that.

Carol launches into her list and Maria listens, nods at some and grimaces at others.

“Well for boys there's Michael, Marcus, Mitchell, Matthew, Mark, Malcolm, Marshall, Martin, Marvin, Max, Maurice, Melvin, Miles, Murphy, and Murray.”

“Marvin?”

“That one was a joke,” Carol admits. “Can you imagine? Baby Marv?”

They both dissolve into laughter at the thought.

“But you're convinced it's a girl, so there's a bunch of those - Melissa, Megan, Michelle, Melanie, Mackenzie, Maya, Madeline, Madison, Maggie, Mandy, Margo, Marisa, Melinda, Melody, Mikaela, Mindy, and Morgan,” Carol rattles off, letting out a breath.

“Oh, and Monica,” she adds.

She doesn't tell Carol that her own list is full of M names, too. And she's definitely not going to give her the satisfaction and unnecessary ego boost of knowing that 'Carol’ has floated across that same list several times as an option for a middle name. She’d be downright insufferable if she knew.

“Those aren’t half bad,” she says. “I thought for sure you were just going to say ‘Maria Junior’ for a girl’s name.”

“I’m not going to say I didn’t consider it.”

Maria laughs and tilts her head to the sky. The first stars have come out and the moon has risen, its crescent shape a sliver of white against the purpling dusk.

“We should head back in,” Carol suggests.

“Probably,” she agrees, but makes no move to get up.

Carol stands slowly and stretches, tucks her sunglasses into her t-shirt and steps toward her. She extends her arm out and Maria looks down at it in mock disdain.

“I can get out of a chair on my own, you know.”

“Eh, I know. Humor me?”

She accepts Carol’s arm and pushes herself up while Carol gently pulls her. She puts a hand to her back and Carol gives her a knowing look.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she insists, waving Carol off. “Those chairs aren’t that comfortable even when I’m not five months pregnant.”

“Uh huh,” Carol replies, smart enough to know not to argue. She follows Maria into the house, locking the back door behind them.In the kitchen she stretches, works the kink out of her back, and yawns. She feels a telltale flutter in her abdomen and grabs for Carol.

Carol whirls around, startled and confused.

“What is it?” she asks, a slight panic in her voice.

Maria presses Carol’s hand to her stomach in the spot where she just felt movement. They stand there for a few seconds and nothing happens. Carol’s palm is warm and wide across the curve of her shirt. Even through the fabric she can feel the heat that emanates from her.

“What are you -”

And then she feels it again and Carol must feel it too because she stops mid-question and her eyes widen.

“Oh,” Carol breathes out. “Wow.”

Carol blinks down at their entwined hands, her whole body still, and waits for the baby to do it again. It happens once more and Carol laughs in amazement.

“Hey there, Trouble,” Carol whispers with a reverence Maria’s never heard in her voice before.

Her best friend looks up at her, keeps her hand tucked beneath Maria’s. Carol’s eyes are shiny and her face is full of awe and wonder and adoration. It overwhelms her, how much she sees reflected in Carol’s expressive brown eyes. She wonders what Carol sees reflected back in her own, if it tilts her world on its axis like it does to Maria.

There's a beat of silence and Carol looks like she's about to say something, but then the baby kicks again, harder this time. Carol pulls her hand back in surprise.

“Dang, kid. Take it easy in there.”

Carol still grins widely and her eyes still sparkle with pure happiness, but whatever else Maria saw revealed briefly in the depths of her eyes has been subdued and pushed back down where it's no longer exposed.

She wants to ask Carol what she was about to say before the baby assertively reminded them of its presence, but she knows she won't get a straight answer. She doesn’t want to risk ruining the night by calling her out on it either.

They'll have this shared moment of joy, and for now that's enough.

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