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fantasy-mixtapes · 2 months

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Kristen Applebees Season 1 Character Playlist BREAKDOWN

OKAY, SO this one is gonna be an ordeal.

I set a 6-song limit for every other playlist I made, but this is the playlist that started it all. So, I didn't have a limit. So it's 12 songs long.

Which is honestly like a normal playlist length BUT it's gonna be a long breakdown which I will lovingly do because I LOVE Kristen with my whole heart. Either way, this is deffos gonna be a long post so read if you want (i would very much appreciate it obvi but I get this is pushing it).

Genres Included: Folk, Singer-songwriter, Alternative, 80's

1. Save the People, The Mountain Goats

When wilt thou save the people? Oh, God of mercy, when? Not kings and lords, but nations Not thrones and crowns, but men God save the people For thine they are Thy children as thy angels fair Save the people from despair

Starting off strong with my main man John Darnielle. John, as prolific as he might be, did not write this song it is originally from the musical Godspell by Steven Schwartz. I was raised as a theater kid and I remember one summer my mom took out our cable and the only things we could watch on the tv were dvds and vhs tapes of musicals, and the 1973 Godspell movie was definitely one of my favorites. Its like "what if Jesus was around in the 70s and was a hippie clown and also was crucified on a chain-linked fence and beaten by cops" ...ah, good times.

ANYWAYS, I don't feel like I need to get into why this is a perfect Kristen song - I feel like it really gets to the divide between the way that Christianity is taught to kids vs the way it is enacted by the adults that do the teaching.

2. Father Texas, Birdtalker

Father Texas on his toes Tells me where and when to go He's a savior, liturgy man He's a stickler and a soap monger Shove it down your throat Holy answer man He says obey and I'll love ya Now I'm doing just to prove And I'm walking out of fear But the devils done

Ok so I was raised Catholic, which I feel like is a whole different flavor of religious trauma compared to Evangelical or Baptist vibes - which I feel like the Helioic religion gives. Either way, this song slaps and really gets to that Evangelical vibe.

3. Big Houses, Squalloscope

I build bridges with these arms I will not build a fortress In the circle around the kitchen table I say my "amen" because I feel blessed Secretly hoping, while joining hands, that you can't feel my trembling fingertips

Here's young Kristen Applebees - Chosen One of Helio- who just wanted to help people. She meets her first non-religious friends, plans to convert and save them, and then straight up dies on the first day of school. She comes face to face with her literal god, is disappointed and grossed out by him, and then is magically (and violently) revived.

Can you imagine her returning home, trying to answer her parent's questions about the first day, making it through dinner, crawling into bed, and just lying there? AHHHHHHHHHHH

4. Under The Table, Fiona Apple

I'd like to buy you a pair of pillow-soled hiking boots To help you with your climb Or rather, to help the bodies that you step over along your route So they won't hurt like mine Kick me under the table all you want I won't shut up, I won't shut up Kick me under the table all you want I won't shut up, I won't shut up

Speaking of those family dinners, as the days go by and Kristen gets closer to her party, how do you think she's gonna react to whatever comments her parents make about them hmmmmmm? The result of coming out of your social shell and realizing how bad the people around you really are.

5. Cleric Girl, Sisyfuss

I need my cleric girl tonight So she can bless me in this plight Dress me in crucifixes so they die on sight I need my cleric girl tonight

This is just a fun song I see as Kristen finds her groove within the party, kinda around the DJ brains fight. Also it makes me think of the prayer chain thing that she had the whole party on at some point.

6. Cornflake Girl, Tori Amos

She knows what's going on Seems we got a cheaper feel now All the sweeteaze are gone Gone to the other side With my encyclopedia They musta paid her a nice price She's putting on her string bean love This is not really, this, this This is not really happening

There's something about a Tori Amos song that never fucking misses. This song, for me, kinda gets at the part of growing up when you really start to uncover the truth of things for yourself, instead of listening to the things you were always told. Kristen buys the book of world religions and reads about the atrocities people did in her god's name. She is also told that the "cool camps" she was going to were run by an actual fanatical cult. Yikes.

7. Eldest Daughter, Isabel Pless

Bring me your battered, your bruised, and your scarred Florence Nightingale, to your broken hearts Bring me your bleeding I'll stitch it up with a bow Tugging at the sword in the stone The dormant hero in me is yet to be known Dying to prove myself again, but I don't know how Wanna lay my weapons down Lay my weapons down Want everyone to adore me even though People's emotions are out of my control Smothering fires Letting flames claim my hands I would do anything to be needed Over and over again.

Okay, the thing about this song is that we get the root of it here in season one, and it shows up really lightly, but God almighty, do we get one hell of a payoff in the next two seasons. Damn. The first time I listened to this song I cried. It's on several of my dnd character playlists - because, for some reason, I can't stop making dnd characters with self-saccrificing tendencies. HM! I WONDER WHY?

But anyways, yeah... something something, Christian households raising their eldest daughters to be surrogate mothers and laborers, something something Kristen is a cleric while her brothers are paladins, something something Women being healers

8. Angel Eyes and Basketball, Foot Ox

There are flowers growing all around A massive animal inside of me And it's so ugly, and I'm so broken And I'm so ugly, and it's so broken I am calling all of my friends To pull me out of this hole But they're so caught up in their own shit And I'm so caught up in my own shit

Ok, this is full Christian guilt. I also really like the way this song is one of those upbeat but devastating ones because it makes me think about her inspiring speeches to her party members just being her ranting about how horrible everything is, and then they get +1 to attacks and extra hitpoints. Living La Vida Loca.

9. We Fell in Love in October, girl in red

Smoking cigarettes on the roof You look so pretty, and I love this view Don't bother looking down, we're not going that way At least I know I am here to stay We fell in love in October That's why I love fall Looking at the stars Admiring from afar

Ok, I know this is cheesy. BUT TO MY CREDIT: both the song and the season came out in 2018. Also, you know Kristen would stream the fuck out of this song.

10. Running Up That Hill ( A Deal With God), Kate Bush

And if I only could, I'd make a deal with God And I'd get him to swap our places I'd be running up that road, be running up that hill With no problems

AGAIN TO MY CREDIT: I made this playlist in 2020 - two years before Stranger Things brought the song back to the general psyche. No shade, of course, to the stranger things; it's a perfect song to choose, and the scene effectively made me cry.

But anyway its here because at her bones, Kristen would die for her friends and has and will (unfortunately) continue to. Speaking of

11. Arms Tonite, Mother Mother

I cry in the afterlife I cry hard because I have died And you're alive I try to escape afterlife I try hard to get back inside Your arms alive

Kristen's dying count is more than double most of her friends at this point - and golly gee just wait till season 2!

Can I roll a nat 20 and then be alive?

12. Glory (Bunker Sessions), Bastille

And all their words for glory Well, they always sounded empty When we're looking up for heaven Looking up for heaven Way down here upon the ground When we're lying in the dirt There's no looking up for heaven Looking up for heaven

I really love this bunker session version of this song; the strings and the piano just give it a lovely honesty. Gorgeous song. Perfect way to end this season

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #d20 #spotify #fantasy mixtapes #kristen applebees #d20 kristen applebees #ally beardsley #Spotify

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averagewriter-inthedark · 2 years

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AverageWriter-InTheDark’s Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

Link to my other Masterlists

Key: 🤍 - Personal favs, ♥️ - popular works, 📝 - series in progress, 💌 - series completed, ⏳- coming soon, 🧸 - OC not y/n, 📨 - requested works (currently open) rules for requests

Lt. Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw

Series

Living Up To The ‘Legacy’ 🧸🤍♥️💌

Imagines:

The Parent Trap 🤍♥️

Lover 📨♥️

My Heart Will Go On | Titanic AU 🤍♥️

Headcanon:

Rooster’s Ballerina ♥️

Social Media au (goes with series/imagines):⏳

Her Lover

Lt. Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd

Imagines:

She’s Still Preoccupied With 1985 🤍♥️

Got Ink? 📨♥️

Headcanons:

SFW Alphabet

In The Name Of Love

Social Media au (goes with series/imagines):

Queen of the Uneven Bars (FHOTB)

The 1985s

Lt. Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin

Imagines:

I Want My MTV 📨♥️

Barbie Girl 📨🤍♥️

Time of Our Lives | Dirty Dancing AU 📨🤍

Now That We Don’t Talk

Headcanons:

SFW Alphabet

Social media au:

The High Note Princess (IWMM)

Y/n Likes The Snow

Lt. Natasha “Phoenix” Trace

Imagines:

Love Rises From The Ashes 📨

Headcanons:

Fluffy headcanons

Social Media AUs:

Resident Bad Boy ⏳

Lt. Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia

Imagines:

His Reason to Fanboy 📨

Headcanons:

On The Floor

Lt. Javy “Coyote” Machado

Imagines:

Hollywood’s Angel 📨

Headcanons:

Fluff headcanons

Social Media AUs

Surf n Turf

Lt. Ruben ‘Payback’ Fitch

Headcanons:

Different Type of Runway | Model!reader

Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell

Series

Living Up To The ‘Legacy’ (daughter!OC)🧸🤍♥️💌

Always The One 🧸⏳

Imagines:

It’s A Long Way To The Top 🤍♥️

The Rockstar, Her Husband, & Their Dagger Ducklings

Daughter of Rock N Roll 📨

Strut Like You Mean It 📨

The Doc is In 📨

Social Media au (goes with series/imagines)

Y/n & The Romantics (IALWTTT)

Multiple Characters

Imagines:

Bigger Than The Whole Sky 🤍♥️

Parabellum | John Wick AU 🤍

When It’s Cold, I’d Like To Die

Before He Cheats 📨

They Did The Monster Mash

Athlete!reader inserts:

For The Gold | Track & Field | Hangman pairing 🤍♥️

Flying High…On The Bars P.2 | Gymnastics | Bob pairing🤍♥️

Winging It | Soccer | Fanboy pairing ⏳

You’re My Grand Slam | Tennis | Phoenix pairing ⏳

Spike It Baby | Beach Volleyball | Coyote Pairing ⏳

Queen Of The Halfpipe | Snowboarder | Hangman pairing 📨♥️

Formula To My Heart | F1 Diver | Maverick pairing 📨

Ridin’ The Waves | Surfing | Coyote Pairing 📨

Dribbling for Love | Basketball | Payback Pairing ⏳

Headcanons:

The Dagger Squad Takes Universal Studios 🤍

Dagger Baby ♥️

The Dagger Squad as the Great Houses of Westeros

It’s Snuggle Time 📨

Last updated: 30 October 23

………….

Tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13, @poppyalice2001, @cutelittlepotatofry, @luckyladycreator2, @americaarse, @elenavampire21, @back-tooo-black, @wildellaa, @artemissunn, @pinkpantheris, @kmc1989

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redhairedwolfwitch · 1 year

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Hello my Auburn Angel,

Just wanted to see how you are doing, my friend. I haven't written you in a bit, but I have been doing all right. Also, side note, this is the first time I'm writing you whilst slightly tipsy (this is an understatement), but I am cooking myself dinner right now and hoping I don't burn anything.

I was wondering, if you want to share, how are this going vis-à-vis your living situation and potentially wanting to get out of there?

Also, I like asking really weird questions to get to know people better, so I have some for you, but feel free to ignore whatever you don't want to answer:

If you could only eat one color of food for the rest of your life, which color would you choose?

If you were a character in a horror movie, what cliche would you be (e.g. the first to die, the skeptic who doesn't believe in ghosts, etc.)?

If you could have any superpower, but it had to be completely useless, what superpower would you choose?

Also, I love that your friend calls you Gingernut now. Do you tell your irl friends about your tumblr or is this a tumblr friend?

Also (ugh too many also's), I don't think the tag issue happens to me, tags work fine even if I use hyperlinks I think, or maybe I don't pay enough attention to it, could be.

Update on the food: It's almost done, so time to wrap up this letter and start putting some food in my belly and sober up (because I'm supposed to go out again later).

As always, much love,

-Chaotic Anon

ahh my sweet sweet chaotic anon, i hope you're doing well (if we ignore the understated tipsy cooking - i hope whatever you made was edible and you didn't burn yourself or the food)

oh, my living situation is unchanged, my small childhood bedroom where the only place i can sit is my bed, which isn't bad but also it makes me love interior design, specifically colours and furniture, like desks, which there is a lack of in my little room. living situation will be unchanged for at least 2023, and even if i could get out, i don't know where i'd go, so i feel a bit hopeless since i don't have a big picture for my life, i just have a little picture with small stepping stone milestones, but the picture is slowly getting coloured in... oh can we add in how my only friend in this town moved away? yeah, i'm stuck for at least 2023, and with the way my mental health is going (badly) i might not get far in general i'm afraid.

anyway, you asked fun questions, and i gotta say, i love colourful food, so i'd be doomed if i had to have e.g. only red foods (sounds like a lot of tomatoes) and it reminded me of how many foods are beige or red, or green or brown.. or just burn everything to a brown or charcoal but i'd need a sauce to go with since it would be dry as heck ahh...

horror movies? i can see myself either getting the hell out of there quickly, or just dying very easily from something unrelated (knowing my anxiety, my heartrate and blood pressure would probably kill me first) but i think i'd just die easily, there is no final enby here sksks.

a completely useless superpower? all i can think of is how Pietro died in Age of Ultron... fast but not fast enough and no super healing:/ he deserved better...

it's a tumblr friend, who has managed to also be a discord and instagram friend, and eventually irl friend too hehe, but people on tumblr and other socials reply and message more than any of my irl friends so...

yeah i don't know what's going on with the tags, i'm just kinda staring at them and trying to either poke them with a metaphorical stick or not at all, since i saw some people are having glitchy tags that reload into something other than a linked fic? tumblr chaos, what else can we expect these days?

take care of yourself, anon of chaos, have fun but also don't die please, i prefer people alive if possible...

~Lux

#hello anon #chaotic anon

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mortedeveles · 3 years

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a whisker away― 1 | HQ Movie Collab!

SUMMARY: After a strange series of events, turning into a cat becomes part of your daily routine, in which you visit your crush- Kenma, every day after school. But he doesn’t know you’re the cat that visits him. And to make things worse, you’re not sure how long you’ll be able to keep this up before your world spirals out of your control.

PAIRING: Kenma Kozume x fem!reader

GENRE & THEME: A Whisker Away! AU (movie), fluff to angst to fluff, pining. [(two part) ONE-SHOT] [Haikyu Movie Collab!]

TAG’S & TW: Cursing, a bit of unhealthy family dynamics. Mentions of social anxiety, rejection. Some angst, mentions of insecurities and small graphic violence. Reader might come off a bit as yandere-ish/obsessive but she’s just head over heels over Kenma, who’s barely discovering his feelings as well.

WORD COUNT: 5.7K!

A/N: Hey y’all! I’m here with my first Kenma fic :) Which is part of @/hitokas-angel Haikyuu Movie Collab! I’ll link the masterlist in my taglist reblog. This fic is based on the movie A Whisker Away but doesn’t follow the entire plot, and I haven’t written in a while and this is my first time writing for Kenma, so I hope it’s okay! <3 Please REBLOG, like and COMMENT if you enjoy!

Second (and final) part will be out this upcoming week! If you want to be added to the taglist, check my pinned post.

People are a fickle thing, Kenma thinks. And he snorts at the thought, knowing he isn't any better than any of the passing strangers he's walking by as he heads to Nekoma High. But still, there's something about people, about crowds and socializing that makes him want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

People are hard to deal with. If he can barely deal with himself, why bother with others? It's not that he's a sociopath, he does have friends and family he cares about. And he cares about what others think of him. But still, socializing is so intimidatingly hard that he'd rather just avoid it altogether if possible.

Even with his headphones, he can hear the loud blaring of cars, the chattering of people that brush against his arms, and he tries to ignore it, tries to ignore the nervous fluttering that's sprouted in his stomach from all the alternating and overwhelming noises. Whatever, it's just a car honking. It's just a little kid screaming. So he braces his arms as he buries his hands in the pockets of his sweater, feeling a bit more relieved as he spots Nekoma High School in the near distance. He usually walks to school with Kuroo, but his friend decided to be productive today and wake up at four in the morning. The mere thought of waking up so early made Kenma yawn and feel drowsy. His eyes feel a bit heavy, though he knows it's his fault for staying up playing video games, again.

But Kenma doesn't mind the slight drowsiness that courses through his body. In a sense, it feels comforting. Like if the world's been sedated to a more managing level. A world that he can handle without his anxiety bursting through the roof.

A soft mew snaps him out of his thoughts, and Kenma spots a white kitten rubbing across his legs, and he smiles. It has a unique pattern across its fur, with brown and black spots. He kneels down and gently scratches the cat under its chin, and the furry animal purrs and preens with his touch.

As a small sigh escapes his lips, the boy raises his head and stares at the high school building ahead of him. Several classmates are walking past him and he watches the girls with swishing skirts and boys with their boisterous laugh and messily done ties.

Despite a large number of students pouring into the building, the morning at Nekoma High is quiet and serene. Giving the black kitten one last scratch, Kenma stands up and heads inside the building, working his way through crowds. His gym bag is heavy in his hand and his backpack slightly thumps against his back, but he pays it no mind as he exits the building and finds his way into the gymnasium. Kuroo, Kai, and Yaku are already in the gymnasium, the three third years chattering amongst themselves. The gym's doors creaked from being pushed open, and Kuroo's gaze snapped towards Kenma, a wry smile crawling onto his lips.

"Look who got here early. I'm impressed," the black-haired boy crossed his arms, and Kenma rolled his eyes. "You're the first second-year to get here today."

Kenma merely lets out a small grunt of acknowledgment, before trudging towards the locker rooms. He stashes his bag in his locker and then heads out back to the gym, already decked out in his volleyball uniform, but furrows his eyebrows at the sight ahead of him.

Not again. He swallows down an annoyed groan as he spots the all too familiar girl standing with Kuroo, a bright smile painted on her lips as she laughs and talks along with the boy. Why are you here?

"Kenma!" Kuroo calls out for him with a shit-eating grin on his face, "Your super fan is here with a gift." Great. Now he has to talk to you and thank you for whatever you brought. Why couldn't you just take a hint and leave him alone? He thought he made it clear last week when he ignored you as you called out his name and Kenma proceeded to ignore your every word as he raced home.

"Hi, Kenma!" And there you go again, making his stomach twist with your wide smile. Why did you make him feel this way? He didn't like this feeling. "I had some free time today, so I decided to make you a bento box. I hope you like it," you explain before handing over the box, and Kenma ignores the way his skin heats up as your fingers brush against his.

"Thank you," he murmurs but refuses to meet your gaze, hoping you'll go away without another second to spare.

"Aww, aren't you two adorable!" Kuroo coos at his left, and Kenma feels his pride shrivel and glares at the black-haired boy, but he pays him no mind.

Kenma drops his gaze to your shiny school shoes, hearing you stammer and step back nervously, and Kuroo's boisterous laugh echoes in the gym. Kenma lifts his gaze as he watches his best friend approach you and watches as your eyes widen as Kuroo grips your chin.

"If Kenma doesn't appreciate your gifts, I sure will. If you ever get tired of him, give me a call, eh?" Yaku and Kai laugh loudly as you squeak and nod, before rushing out of the gym.

"Poor girl, did you see the look on her face? You've tormented her too much, Kuroo," Yaku says with a disapproving tone to his words, but there's a wide grin on his face that says otherwise.

"Relax, it's all just a bit of fun. You don't mind, do you Kenma?" And the boy turns to look at the blonde, dropping his mischievous expression as he faces Kenma with genuine concern.

"No, of course not." Kuroo relaxes at the boy's response and beams. Kenma turns around towards the benches, ignoring the loud pounding of his heart and the ugly feeling that begins to boil in his stomach.

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

Despite the searing heat that spread across your face after fleeing from the gym, you'd like to think your mission went pretty well. One, you made it to the gym without chickening out and two, you talked to Kenma without looking like an idiot! And three, you handed over the bento box and it was successfully received.

So you spend the rest of your day at school with a bright smile, the small interaction with Kenma being enough to lift your mood. Soon enough, the school bell chimes softly, and you walk to lunch with your friends, Azumi and Emiko.

While Emiko goes off to the vending machine, her brown hair bouncing with her each step, Azumi and you walk towards a lunch table. But you freeze in your steps at the sight ahead of you. With only a tree and a few bushes separating you two, Kenma and Kuroo walk languidly ahead of you and you quickly duck behind the bushes, pulling Azumi down with you. Before she can protest, you slap your hand over her mouth, signaling her to be quiet.

"Shh!" You peek your head over the bushes, watching with rapt attention. Kenma walks side by side with Kuroo, the taller one gossiping as they approach a lunch table. They sit down at one of the tables blanketed under the shade of the trees, and your eyes widen as you watch Kenma pull out your bento box. He kept it! A small part of you was fearing he would drop kick it at a trash can, but you feel much more relieved now that you see him with your gift. The branches begin to scratch against your forearms and thighs, and your friend grumbles at your side about how the bushes are annoying, but you pay her no mind as you watch almost in slow motion as Kenma opens your bento box and begins to eat. He digs into the food with his chopsticks and you strain your ears to listen as Kuroo speaks.

"Oh? You're eating the bento box Y/N prepared for you?"

Kenma's brows furrow as he rolls his eyes, before continuing to dig into the food, cheeks puffed out with food. He ignores Kuroo's teasing words, and you don't think the smile on your lips can grow any wider. Wow....have you ever felt this happy before? You can't describe the happiness, the joy, and the satisfaction that blooms from your chest and floods your mind at the sight of your crush eating your food.

"Okay," you let out a deep breath as you dramatically fall back on the grass, closing your eyes in bliss. "I can peacefully die now..."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," Azumi chides you but falls back onto the grass at your side, and you can't stop the giggle that leaves your lips.

"But it's true," you mumble as you drape your arm over your eyes, blocking off the blinding sunlight. "Kenma took my bento box. Kenma Kozume, the boy I've crushed on for years, took my food! And he's eating it!"

"Nothing else can make you happier, huh?" Your friend says with amusement, and you hum. You push your arm away from your face, and stare at the bright sky, raising your hand upward and partially block the sun's rays.

"There is something else," you murmur, and Kenma's face flashes across your mind. "But beggars can't be choosers. I'll take what I can."

"What do you want?" Azumi rolls to the side and propels herself with her arm, looking at you expectantly. "Tell me."

You glance at her briefly before looking away with a small smile. You gaze at the sky, and you notice a small, burning light that travels across the blue horizons. A shooting star? That can't be it. It's the middle of the day. But you furrow your brows, a small prayer whispered in your head as you respond to your friend.

"I wish Kenma's heart belongs to me as much as mine belongs to him."

Azumi snorts. She rolls her eyes and lays back down on the grass, and you stifle a giggle.

"Well, good luck with that." She murmurs, and you hum in response. You close your eyes and spread your arms on the grass as the wind gently blows across the open area.

"Thanks. I'm going to need it." You murmur mostly to yourself, but then you open your eyes and raise yourself from the grass, peeking through the branches and leaves. Kenma is still scarfing down the food you made and Kuroo drinks some canned juice. And you feel newfound determination flooding through your veins as you turn and beam at your friend, eyes set on your goal.

"I can do it. I know I can."

Azumi chuckles, watching you with an amused smile. She then rises from the grass, stretching her limbs before outstretching a hand towards you.

"Well if it's anyone that can do it, it's you." And you smile. With a small huff, you grab her hand and rise to your feet, feeling much more hopeful than before.

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

On the way home, you walk with Azumi and Emiko, but soon enough part ways since you three live on different streets. Humming absentmindedly, you swing your bag in your hands as you walk towards your home with no rush in your steps, feeling as if you have all the time in your hands. Your mind drifts back to Kenma- as it always does, and you smile. You're determined to win him over, but truthfully, you're not sure how. A small sigh leaves your lips, and you begin to pick up your pace when you hear a loud crash from the alley on your left.

Stopping dead in your tracks, you slowly turn around and look into the rather dark alley, feeling your heart pound loudly. Uh oh. This can't be good. But you're frozen in place, and all you can do is watch in slight horror as a large and tall figure stomps out of the alley, slowly leaving shadows as it steps into the light. And you find yourself looking at... a cat?

That is if you can call this...thing, a cat.

Towering over you, the overweight white cat stands on its two paws, black and brown spots littering its fur. Strangely enough, the animal sports a dark blue kimono with a mustard yellow cloak draped over the clothing and a red scarf wrapped around its thick neck. And the weirdest of it all? The cat is smoking a pipe. Rather than being afraid, you're stuck in place as confusion swarms your thoughts.

"Uh..." You stare up at the cat, whose eyes are closed. "Hello?"

"Greetings, human." And the cat exhales a puff of smoke right on your face. Coughing, you furrow your brows with annoyance. "I've heard your prayers, so I am here with an offer."

Oh. Wait, what? How could've he heard your mental prayers? Maybe it was the shooting star- assuming it was a shooting star. But whatever the reason is, you don't dwell on it too much as you swallow and take a step back.

"Which is...?" You wait for the cat to continue. Maybe you're hallucinating, which wouldn't be too crazy to consider. Maybe you've been hallucinating this entire day because God knows it's been too good to be true.

The cat harrumphs, before opening its cloak, revealing a set of colorful masks. Pretty, you murmur to yourself, and the cat chuckles.

"I heard your pleads, and I am here to help. But I'm no love god, so I cannot make that boy fall in love with you. However," he pauses and grins, sharp teeth glinting. "I am the Mask Seller. I give masks to cats who wish to be humans, and I give masks to humans who wish to be cats."

"..." You frown, not liking the strange glint in the cat's eyes. You don't trust him. "And how would that help me win Kenma over?"

The Mask Seller laughs loudly, his belly slightly bouncing. "I have been watching you and the boy for some time now. You, more than anyone, should know why being a cat will change things."

Racking your head for the answer, you go through your memories of Kenma. A cat? Why would being a cat change anything? But then it dawns on you, and a small noise of understanding leaves your lips.

"He loves cats," you rush the words, eyes wide and the Mask Seller nods. "If I were a cat, I could approach him easily, and learn more about him! And then, I could use that information to become closer to him as a human-,"

"You catch on fast," the cat croons, and you nod eagerly. But then you frown. Why is he offering to help you? What does he get out of this?

"What are the conditions? Price? Rules?" You cross your arms over your chest, tapping your foot impatiently.

"No money involved," the cat's low voice has you relaxing, but you still can't let down your guard. This is too good to be true. "But there are some conditions and rules you have to follow. And a small fee."

"I'm listening," you nod in understanding. The cat tugs one of the masks hanging from his cloak, a white cat mask that only covers the upper half of your face, with red and pink markings. He places it firmly in your hands, and then clears his throat. "The mask has a time limit. You can only wear it for one hour and a half per day. After that time, you will turn back into a human. And once my services are no longer needed, I will come to collect the mask. And my fee, of course." The glint in his feline eyes has you swallowing nervously, brows furrowing.

"What's this 'fee' you're talking about? You said I don’t have to pay you money." But the Mask Seller only chuckles before flipping backward, and you watch with a slackened jaw as he spins into the air, before floating down to a pipe and waves at you before swiftly squeezing down the passage.

"You'll see! Enjoy your new life."

And then you're left alone, standing in front of the alley with a cat mask in your hands.

Frowning, you stare down at the mask, turning it around. There's no engraving, inscription, or any indication of where it was made or such. Oh well. With a sigh, you hoist your bag around your shoulder and continue walking home, the cat mask held tightly in your hands.

Once you reach your home's doorstep, you stop. Pinching your arm, you wince at the stinging pain that shoots up your dream. Well, that crosses out one thing. You're not dreaming.

Swinging the door open, you announce your arrival, take off your shoes and kiss your mother's cheek, before racing up the stairs towards your bedroom. You need to know whether the mask will work before getting your hopes up, or if you've been having major hallucinations the entire day. A part of you hopes for it to work. Dropping your school bag on the ground, you examine the mask once again, tracing your fingers over the marks. It's a bit similar to a kitsune mask. Taking a deep breath, you straighten your posture before raising the mask and clasping it tight against your face.

And then it happens. A powerful breeze sweeps into your room, even though your windows are closed, and you feel the world spinning. Closing your eyes tightly, you slowly open them after a few seconds.

Woah. When was your bag this big? Things look a bit different, a bit sharper. And you're definitely way smaller than before. Glancing downwards, you spot your paws. White, soft, furry paws. The paws of a cat.

Oh my God. It worked! You want to squeal and scream with excitement, but all that leaves your mouth is a small, gentle mew.

Oh, right. You're a cat. You can't talk. So instead, you walk towards your balcony, thankful you didn't close it last night as you nudge it open with your head. Once it slides open, you take a step forward before examining your paws. You can retract your claws at your own will. That's pretty cool, you think, but it's time to test them out. Leaping forward, you sink your claws into the cement wall and climb upwards, surprised at how easy it is. Perhaps everything is easier as a cat.

Once you've reached the top of the half-wall of your balcony, you begin to leap on roofs, tread on pipes and sidewalks until you've reached Kenma's house. Ever since you went there for a project in middle school, you've never forgotten his address. Is it creepy? Maybe- okay, yeah, it is creepy, but it's not like you stalk him! You simply memorized his address by heart. Blame it on your love haze from seventh grade, the same love haze that continues to influence your current actions.

You walk around his house until you reach his bedroom window. You wonder what he'll think, seeing a white kitten peeking through his window. Dread boils in your stomach when you realize he might not even be home at all. What if he's still at volleyball practice? You might've come all the way here for nothing.

But much to your surprise, after climbing up to his window, you find yourself staring at him. Kenma sits at his desk, black headphones on his head as he scribbles on a piece of paper. He must be doing homework, you ponder. Deciding to not interrupt him just yet, you look around in his bedroom, observing the decoration.

It's rather simple, with beige walls and a wooden floor. On the right corner of his room, a bed is pushed against the wall with pastel green blankets, and to the bed's left, there's a wooden desk with a PC, as well as several stacks of books, what seems to look like comics, and some gaming equipment.

After you've gotten bored of looking around in his bedroom, you scratch at his window, mewing softly. He doesn't look up, and you find your stomach twisting. What if he just thinks you're a strange stray and ignores you? Or worse, kicks you out of his home? Dear God, you did not think this through. Why did you take that mask again? Your mother did tell you to never accept gifts from strangers.

But before your endless cycle of overthinking can fully commence, your eyes widen as you watch Kenma pull off his headphones and stare at you through the window for a few seconds. You watch his short, dirty blonde hair slightly move with his movements and his slightly parted lips. And you know he sees nothing more but a white kitten, but a part of you hopes that he sees through the magic, and sees you. It's me, Kenma.

Almost hesitantly, he walks over to his window and pulls it open. You sit down patiently and chirp softly once the window has been lifted. Kenma looks rather confused but doesn't say anything as he reaches a hand towards you and begins to gently scratch your chin. That feels good. You purr and lean into his touch, and you hear a soft chuckle leave his lips. Oh. My. God.

"How did you get up here?" He murmurs, mostly to himself and all you can do is meow in response.

You watch as he stares at his closed door, before turning back to you. And then, you feel his warm and soft hands go underneath your arms as he picks you up from the edge of the window and brings you to his bed. Kenma runs his fingers through your white fur, and the heat his body emits is almost comforting and you find yourself leaning into his touch.

"You like cuddles, don't you?" He says, with a teasing smile that you've never seen before. If you were in human form right now, you're sure you would've passed out by now.

You let out a soft mew and reach for his cheek with one of your paws, but Kenma laughs as he grabs your paw and squeezes it gently in his hand.

This is it. You've never seen Kenma smile before, much less laugh, and there are no words to describe how it makes you feel. All you can think about is that you need to see it again.

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

Your life has taken a strange twist, to say the least. After enduring school, you race home and pull on the mask, heading straight to Kenma's house. You spend an hour there, cuddled in his arms or his lap as he plays video games, one of his hands resting on the top of your head. Kuroo has even come over a few times and seems to enjoy your presence as well. Kenma even feeds you sometimes, but most times you refuse, not liking how your stomach feels once you turn back human.

"Mmm." Kenma hums as you lay on his chest, pressing his nose to the crook of your neck, buried between your fur. And you purr, closing your eyes. "You smell like heaven. But I wonder," he leans back for a moment, assessing your frame. "What's your name? Do you have a family?"

"Give it a break, Kenma," Kuroo says at his side, reaching a hand to pet you. His movements are rather brutish and rough and you grumble as he pets your fur.

"I'm sure she has a family that feeds her. You can't feel her bones or anything, she's a healthy weight."

The boy sighs in response, before sitting up on his bed, moving you to his lap. "But I still get worried," he gently runs his fingers through your fur. "Where does she go after coming here?"

You meow in response. I'm fine, Kenma. You don't need to worry over me. He chuckles, raising you to his face, his nose gently bopping against yours. You stare into his golden eyes, wondering how someone's eyes could be as beautiful and hypnotizing as his, and you feel yourself fall a little bit more in love.

"Your birthday is coming up, isn't it?" Kuroo says as he flops onto the bed, bouncing a volleyball in his hands.

"Yeah," Kenma murmurs, and you don't miss the way he averts his eyes and how his voice lowers. Does he not like his birthday? "It's this Friday."

"I'm gonna get you some apple pie. Let's go to the park after school on Friday, and then we can go to that arcade you like going to." You turn to look at Kuroo. If you were in your human form, you would've been smiling softly. Though Kuroo can be loud and boisterous at times, you can tell that he cares for Kenma.

"Apple pie is good," he murmurs as his fingers scratch your head. "I like it."

Your ears perk up at this as an idea pops into your head. Kuroo's going to give him apple pie, but probably store-bought. Which means you can bake him homemade apple pie and buy him a few more gifts. He'll love it! Seeing that his birthday is only in two days, you spring up from his chest and race towards the window. You don't have any time to waste.

"Huh- wait!" You stop, hearing the sudden surprise in Kenma's words. Mewing softly, you lick your paw and meow one more time before leaping out of the window. That should suffice as a goodbye, right? It's not like you can go up to him and say, "See you later!" You're in the body of a cat, after all.

Once you've dropped down to the soft grass, you begin to make your way home, making mental calculations of what you need to buy and prepare. And you feel giddiness shoot through your chest, butterflies awakening in your stomach. Who knows, maybe the gift will win him over? You can only hope so.

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

By the time Kenma's birthday, October 16th, rolls by, you feel ready as ever. Speed walking to school, you're decked out in your school uniform, carrying the warm apple pie in one hand, and a gift bag in the other, while your bag is slung over your shoulders. You can't stop the giddy smile that crawls on your lips, which only grows wider at the sight of your two friends, Emiko and Azumi waiting for you at your designated spot.

"Hey there," Azumi chimes in while Emiko gasps at the sight in your arms.

"Y/N! What's all this?" Her words are chipper and her eyes are wide as you smile and begin to walk towards the school, the two girls at your sides.

"It's Kenma's birthday today, so I decided to bake him apple pie and I bought him some gifts. I hope he'll like them," you feel your insecurities seep in your last words, slightly frowning as you look down at your apple pie. You were a good baker, having done many other desserts in the past, but you can't help but fear that he won't like your baking.

"Wow. You really went all out," Azumi comments and you giggle. The three of you continue to gossip as you walk towards Nekoma High and it isn't long until the school building towers over you. You feel your stomach twist as you take in a deep breath.

Azumi pats your shoulder, while Emiko beams at you and gives you a thumbs up.

"You should give it to him before classes start. Good luck!" The brunette says with a wide smile and you smile back, before marching into the building. Here goes nothing.

It takes you a few minutes to find Kenma, knowing he'll probably be in the gymnasium, but you decide to check some other classrooms just in case. When you can't find him in any classroom, you grimace and speedwalk towards the gym, knowing you're running out of time. You only have eight minutes left before the school bell rings and then you'll have to head to class.

Once you've reached the gym, you slowly push the doors open, silently praying that only Kuroo and Kenma are in the gym.

But your prayers go unheard as a ball rolls right towards your feet, and the boy's volleyball team freezes when they spot you. A small moment of awkwardness passes through before you clear your throat and walk towards Kenma, giving the other boys a tight-lipped smile. Kenma sits on one of the benches, drinking from his water bottle as a sheen layer of sweat rolls down from his forehead. When you stand in front of him, he sets his water bottle to the side and stares at you, mouth slightly parted open.

"Happy birthday, Kenma. I hope you'll like it." You slightly bow before him, handing him over the gifts. He takes them silently, staring at them, and you decide to take this as your chance to escape. Quickly turning on your heel, you half-race out of the gym, feeling your face burn with embarrassment once again. And then you press your back against the gym's wall, catching your breath as your cheeks burn. But then you smile, a small laugh falling from your lips. You did it.

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

Kenma isn't a fan of birthdays. He'll endure his friend's birthdays and he'll even help with the surprise parties, but there's something about them that makes his stomach churn. Especially when it's his birthday. He's not the biggest fan of celebrating his birthday and he tries to avoid it when he can, but of course, Kuroo won't let it slip by this year.

He's barely arrived at the gym and Kenma frowns as he notices that no one's here yet. The gymnasium is dark and empty, and he wonders if he missed a memo or something. Did they not have practice today?

He sighs, dropping his gym bag on the ground. He'll wait a few minutes, maybe he's early today? But then he hears something shuffle, and he freezes. What was that....?

Then a grumble. Kenma raises a brow, both confused and wary. Is there a ghost or are his teammates pranking him? Neither outcomes sound pleasant.

"...Who's there?"

A sigh. And then, before Kenma can brace himself, the entire volleyball team jumps from the bleachers, shouting eagerly.

"SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Jesus Christ! Kenma jumps in his spot, heart thundering as he processes the situation. Okay, so not a ghost. Just his teammates being annoying as usual. Kuroo and Lev are grinning like doofuses, holding a banner that says, 'Happy Birthday Kenma!' Kai holds an apple pie in his hands, a serene smile on his face, Yaku holds the other end of the banner, and the rest of the first and second years hold balloons and throw streamers into the air.

All of this, just for him?

"What's this?" Kenma murmurs, still wracking his brain as he tries to process his emotions. Lev's about to open his mouth, but Yaku reaches over and slaps his hand over the Russian's mouth, a forced smile on his lips.

Kuroo clears his throat, beaming. "Just a surprise celebration! We wanted to do something special. You don't turn seventeen every day."

And Kenma feels his chest warm, and there's a smile that's threatening to break onto his face, but he holds it back and gives them a small smile, not sure if he can handle so many emotions.

"...Thank you." And he is, he feels thankful and only feels even more thankful as his friends cheer and suddenly rush towards him, embracing him tightly in his arms. He can't help the laugh that leaves his lips and feels serene. Kenma's never been a fan of his birthday, but his friends make it a little bit better.

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

The team quickly calms down and begins practice, a few laps, then practicing their spikes and receives. Kenma walks over to the benches and takes a seat as he drinks from his water bottle when the gym doors creak open.

Everyone turns to look at the intruder, and Kenma's stomach squirms. It's you again. And he hates the way his heart skips a beat at the sight of you, and he hates the way it makes him feel.

It's dead silent, and you stand at the door for a second before quickly walking towards him, and Kenma's heart pounds even louder. He doesn't understand you. Why do you pursue him so much? You're cute, he can't deny it. So why, out of all the people in Nekoma High, did you chase after him? And why is it making his heart go wild?

"Happy birthday, Kenma. I hope you'll like it." You slightly bow before him, handing him over the gifts. A freshly baked apple pie that smells absolutely delicious, and a large red gift bag.

Oh wow... He's speechless. He doesn't know what to say. It feels like with the surprise celebration, and it feels like too much. What is he supposed to say? But before he can even regain his composure, you're rushing out of the gym, and Kenma's stomach churns. Oh...

Once the gym doors close with a loud slam, the entire team turns to look at him. They blink, and then they leap. Kenma yelps as the entire team rush towards him, yapping and all of them speaking at the same time.

"Lemme see what she got you!"

"Y/N L/N is so adorable!"

"Kenma, have you secretly been dating Y/N this entire time?!" Fukunaga pipes in, and Kenma finds his face heating up as his eyes widen.

"What?! Of course not!" And then Kuroo's snickering as he sits next to Kenma, slinging an arm around his shoulder.

"She's a sweet girl. Why don't you give her a chance?"

He lets out a shaky breath, his poor heart barely handling all the commotion. Kenma definitely needs at least one hour of cuddling with his white kitten after school to recover from all this. He blocks out what his friends say as his thoughts drift off, and he furrows his brows.

Wait a minute. How did you know he likes apple pie?

A/N: Hey!! I hope you enjoyed the first half of this one-shot :)) I totally did not speedrun it 1-2 days before the collab event was live 😭😭I’ve been busy with school and just life in general so I haven’t had much time to write tbh. And plus I’m lazy :,) but anyway! I hoped you enjoyed it as much I enjoyed writing it :DD The 2nd and final part of this one-shot will be out this week!

Please REBLOG, like + comment if you enjoyed! <3

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pochiperpe90 · 3 years

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Here comes “The Old Guard”. Marinelli goes to Hollywood, alongside Charlize Theron.

“Alone, fragile and immortal.”

A story of love, friendship and compassion with an ancient warrior and a young African American, who has just discovered she is immortal, as protagonists. Because the world needs women and courage knows no gender differences. 20 years after “Love & Basketball” and after “The Secret Life of Bees” and “Beyond the Lights - Find Your Voice”, Gina Prince-Bythewood comes to the action movie with very clear ideas on how to reinvent the rules. We talked to her over the phone while she was in Los Angeles during the lockdown.

A superhero movie that doesn't look like a superhero movie. Is that why you decided to make it?

Absolutely yes, when I read the script I realized that despite the fantastic genre there was a very realistic background. These characters are real and it's easy for the audience to relate to them despite being immortal. They fight for goals and reasons that people understand. The more realistic the film, the more viewers can reflect themselves in the protagonists.

In fact, the most fascinating aspect of the characters is their vulnerability: they are immortal, but up to a certain point, which is a paradox. They too have to deal with the sense of the end.

There is a possibility that they may die, that their immortality is interrupted, that they still suffer from their wounds, and this brings them closer to us. The public still feels sorry for them when they see them in danger.

Immortals suffer, and not just physically.

Many think that being able to live forever would be extraordinary, but no one asks what this really means. Immortality has consequences: it can be a gift, but it can also be a curse.

And we don’t know why immortality fell to them.

The thing I loved about the graphic novel and the script is the fact that there is no explanation. Not only do we not know it, but neither do the protagonists. But it is a trilogy and therefore there is still a lot to tell.

Could you offer your contribution to the script?

It was a great script, with great roles based on the graphic novel so I stayed very true to the text. With the author, Greg Rucka, we wanted to reflect on the fear of taking someone's life, the one that sometimes overwhelms soldiers in war, whose psychology is often neglected. Hollywood films have never been very concerned with this aspect, as if killing had no consequences. The protagonists are forced to kill, but if someone has been doing it for centuries, for others it’s the first time.

What struck you about Luca Marinelli?

I could talk about him for days, I love him, he's the actor that all directors dream of having on set. He loved the character and gave him life in a very credible way. Between him and Marwan Kenzari is born a great complicity, necessary between two people who have been together for centuries. Luca's eyes are full of soul, his Nicky is the heart of the group, he’s the most sensitive character of all of them.

Charlize Theron, who is also one of the producers, has an increasingly and more torn body.

Charlize has already played roles like this one, she is very credible in the genre of action and has been helpful to who had never faced it before. From her, who really worked hard, others learned to do the same. She is very credible in the role of a woman who lived for thousands of years.

Matthias Schoenaerts, on the other hand, has an insidious role.

He embodies the tragedy of immortality, loneliness, betrayal. He is the actor who most resembles his character in the graphic novel. He wanted to make the film at all costs because he had never measured himself with the action genre and felt he had things to express.

The film underlines how today it’s no longer possible to hide, images can capture you at any time.

In a scene near the end, when the immortals look at photos and articles about them, they truly become aware for the first time of everything they have done to protect humanity. They understand the power of images from which they continually try to escape in order to hide their identity.

And then we talk about science and profit.

In the film, people from different places join forces to protect the world, a need even more relevant today. Yet it is increasingly evident that profit matters more than human lives.

Do you think the film industry is becoming more inclusive with women?

Things are finally changing and I am grateful that, despite having no other action films on my resume, I have been entrusted with The Old Guard. I am grateful for the trust they have placed in me. It should be taken for granted by now that women are capable of coping with any film genre and I think how much pressure from the industry Patty Jenkins, who directed Wonder Woman to success and opening the door for many of us, went through. But the door must be wide open because there are still few who have such opportunities.

In your opinion, have opportunities grown with the arrival of platforms like Netflix?

Netflix wasn't afraid to trust a series of directors. Which studio would have produced Roma or Irishman? He has the courage to make films that Hollywood deems too risky.

The Golden boy

“Luca Marinelli, as we have never seen him before: in his Hollywood debut, he becomes an immortal and fights with Charlize Theron to save the world.”

Just before the lockdown he was one of the jury members of the 70th Berlinale in the city where he has lived for years - and he swears he had so much fun watching three films a day. The audience awaits him in theatre in the role of Diabolik, in the film directed by Manetti Bros., but on July 10th he arrives on Netflix with The Old Guard, the action movie that sees him alongside Charlize Theron. And where he plays the Italian Nicolo, Nicky for the group of immortals he belongs to. Directed by Gina Prince-Bythewood and based on the graphic novel by Greg Rucka and Leandro Fernández, the film offers Luca Marinelli an insidious superpower, an endless love and a new opportunity to demonstrate his talent as a true champion. We reached him on the phone and he, less shy than usual, told us how he became a secular "superhero".

How did you get to the project?

I auditioned in London, where I later returned and met the director. Lastly, there was a final meeting between me and Marwan Kenzari. We made a scene together and then they announced to me, "We'd love for you to be Nicky."

What struck you about this character?

The story fascinated me because it tells of immortals as if they were the damned. Nicky and Joe live this condition as a gift because they are linked by a wonderful love story and they are not alone. They met in an absurd and paradoxical situation, during the Crusades, ready to kill themselves. They did it a hundred times and then they looked at each other and fell in love. But others suffer from it, like Andy and Booker. In a beautiful scene, Booker, played by Matthias Schoenaerts, explains what happens to them: they see the people they love die and blame them because they cannot prevent it. And they are tired of watching the world repeat itself following the same dynamics. They fight to save people, but everything seems to go on the same way. Only in the end will they discover what they have done and what they are doing.

How did it go with Charlize Theron?

Well, it was wonderful! As I read the script I said to myself: am I really going to make a film with Charlize Theron? And hug as well! I was very excited and intimidated already while reading. She is an extraordinary actress. In the scene where we are at the table and everyone tells Nile something about us, Andy tells her what we are and it was nice to see her running and venturing into the midst of emotions and thoughts. Sometimes I got distracted and didn't say my line. But Charlyze is also a crazy athlete. You have to be really athletes, otherwise you don't survive at the end of the day. And Charlize is an athlete of the body and the heart.

What about her athletic training?

We got together a month before shooting to start working with the stunts. I had to get some athleticism back: when I arrived and they looked at me I think they were a little worried. We had to become familiar with martial arts and then we switched from the sword to other weapons and to hand-to-hand combat. We prepared scene by scene, including the choreographies, different for each fight, and each of us had his own rubber reproduction of the sword. It was an unforgettable training.

The immortals come from different places in the world. How much of Italy is there in Nicky?

Apart from the pronunciation? They still laugh at some of the things I said. Marwan and Matthias, but also Charlize, speak Italian at different levels and every now and then I enjoyed shooting a few sentences to which they could answer me.

Did you offer your character something that wasn't in the script?

Well, being in such a group, shy as I am ... I tried. I have always focused on the bond between Nicky, Joe and the other members of the group, because I am interested in discovering what is inside a character, his feelings, how he looks at the world, what excites him. Nicky has lived for centuries, but still greets the people he meets in the desert with a smile, inside him there is the flame of an infinite good. Each character has a different sensitivity and their own armor. Nicky is perhaps the least armored one.

The challenge was also to make people believe in a love story that has lasted for centuries.

Marwan recites a beautiful monologue in which he talks about their love story. I hope that each of us, in their short life, can say the same thing about the person they love.

You’ve already had superpowers in “They Call Me Jeeg”. What is your relationship with this genre?

I like it very much and I think that both films, very different from each other, have a very interesting soul. In Jeeg Robot, Enzo Ceccotti uses his superpowers to help others, taking on a social responsibility. In The Old Guard the protagonists put themselves at the service of others, even if no one has asked them to. “This is what we do,” they repeat over and over to each other. What they do is save people, participate in what they think is right.

How do you think they would react to protests on American streets and around the world?

I don't feel like playing games, mixing reality and fiction on a terribly real subject like this. I think that in reality, outside of any cinematic fiction, it’s fundamental to fight for equality, within society, but also within ourselves. To go back to our film, if in a microscopic way we manage to carry a message in that direction, I would be very happy.

What director was Gina Prince-Bythewood?

She is always ready to listen, and I am someone who asks a lot of questions even at inappropriate times. She always had great patience and was very attentive to the emotional side of the film, to the interiority and beauty of the characters.

CIAK Magazine - Luglio 2020

Just wanted to translate this old interview for the non-italian’s fans ^^ (sorry for my English)

#Luca Marinelli #marwan kenzari #Charlize Theron #gina prince bythewood #Matthias Schoenaerts #the old guard #TOG #TOG Cast #Film #netflix #magazine #movie #interview #english #english translation #mine #joenicky #joe x nicky #Immortal husbands

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bbrandy2002 · 3 years

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Fearless

Chapter 4: See the Lights, See the Party, the Ball Gowns

Book: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairing: Prince/King Liam x MC (Riley Brooks), Drake Walker x OC (Alyssa Devereaux)

Series Premise: Riley Brooks and Alyssa Devereaux became best friends as freshmen at Syracuse University, a borderline-sisterhood that lasts forever after. When Riley meets a handsome prince and is asked to compete for his hand in a mysterious faraway kingdom, she invites Alyssa along for moral support.

What the girls think will be a crazy temporary adventure becomes two sets of happily ever afters … with twice the shenanigans to show for it.

A/N: This series is written in loving collaboration between @bbrandy2002 and @burnsoslow.

Series Warnings: Smut 🍋🍋, language, canon violence (gun violence, bombing, terrorism), drug use, probably more stuff as we think of it. By reading this series, you agree that you are at least 18 years old and are prepared to deal with adult themes.

The girls spent their first morning in Cordonia with their respective sponsors, getting the first glimpses of courtly life and preparing for the Masquerade Ball taking place that evening. As much as they wanted to get out and experience all that this little Mediterranean country had to offer, there was just so much to do and little time to do it.

That morning, while Alyssa worked diligently on learning the steps of the Cordonian Waltz and etiquette with Rashad, Maxwell finally got Riley out of bed in time for a late breakfast. This included meeting his brother, Bertrand, who was none too thrilled with the former waitress from New York. Riley discovered rather quickly that the duke was nothing like the free-spirited Maxwell; if ever there was a picture display of a killjoy, she was sure his scowling face would be plastered dead in the center.

The day kind of went by in a dizzying blur, especially for Riley, who spent most of it either being lectured by Bertrand, or raiding the kitchen for stress snacks with Maxwell. And as far as anyone knew, Liam was still unaware that the quirky, raven-haired beauty he’d met two nights ago and never expected to see again was in his country, in his palace, and was about to come face-to-face with him.

If she didn’t die of anxiety first.

Neither of the girls saw each other until much later that afternoon when they linked up in Riley’s room before heading to the palace's salon for last-minute hair and nail appointments.

Later on in the boutique, Riley sucked in a deep breath and held in her stomach while Alyssa stood behind her, fighting to zip the back of the angel-themed costume she chose for the Masquerade Ball.

Actually, "chose" was a loose description in this case. The ensemble was one of the last two dresses in the palace's boutique, and Maxwell insisted Riley wear it instead of the more provocative red devil attire to make herself more appealing to the King and Queen. The Beaumont sponsee didn’t give two shits at that moment about impressing the monarchs; her major concern was how she would fit that size-four dress over her size-six body.

“What the hell did you eat, Ri? This zipper is not budging an inch," an out-of-breath Alyssa groaned as she attempted to pull the tight fabric closer together.

Steadying her feet firmly to the ground, a jostled-around Riley answered quietly, in a still manner, so as not to undo what little progress her friend had already made, "You know I'm a stress eater. I've experienced many emotions since we left yesterday, and food therapy helps. And your judgment is making me hungry again, so thank you for making it worse."

"I'm not judging you; I'm simply stating a fact: Your ass won’t fit in this dress."

Riley straightened up a little higher, hoping to thin her lean frame out more. "Well, it's gonna have to," she scoffed. "I can't be the only suitor at this ball without the proper attire."

Alyssa tugged harder in frustration. "You know, it might help if I could remove the price tag from the zipper."

"Perhaps." Riley sideways glanced at the two inattentive boutique cashiers before turning her head slightly over her shoulder to acknowledge her best friend in a hushed tone. "But then I wouldn't be able to return it in the morning. $700 for a damn dress is highway robbery, and I won't be a victim to this place's jacked-up prices." She glared back at the fashionably dressed women running the register and hollered out, "You should all be ashamed of yourselves!"

"Shhhh!" Alyssa's face burned with embarrassment while she smiled sheepishly at the bewildered ladies. "Are you crazy? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You mean aside from the usual things that are wrong with me? I'm a nervous wreck, Lyss. Liam still doesn't know that I'm here. I'm about to go wine-and-dine with snobby rich people, while my socially awkward-o-meter is on red alert. And Maxwell's brother didn't like me. How am I supposed to impress Liam, the press, this council, and his parents when my own sponsor hates me?"

"He doesn't hate you," Alyssa replied. "Suck in your stomach a little more ... Rashad told me Duke Beaumont is high-strung and takes all this court business very seriously. If you ask me, give ‘The Brows’ some time. I know he'll love you. And Liam already does!" Alyssa stepped back in delight after tirelessly sliding the last bit of the zipper to the neckline. "Voila! I got it."

Riley stiffly turned toward the full-length mirror -- her insides feeling like they would pop right out of her -- and surveyed the finished product. "Not bad, not bad. A slight muffin top on the sides, and my ass cheeks are packed in tighter than my family around the dessert station at a buffet, but ... I think I can get by with it." Turning to face Alyssa, she lit up with anticipation. "Okay, now it's your turn."

Alyssa plucked the bright red dress off the rack and headed inside one of the many dressing rooms. A moment later, she emerged with a beaming smile on her face and held her arms out to the side to do a show-offish twirl. "So, how do I look?"

"Oh my god, Lyss!" Riley clapped excitedly. "You look so hot in that! That color of red really suits you too. Although, you might want to cover up the girls a little more; I've never seen your boobs look so huge."

"Wha --" Alyssa glanced down at her fully rounded chest, a substantial portion of which was spilling out over the top. She crossed her arms over her breasts in horror. "OH MY GOD! You're right: They're enormous in this thing. I can't go out there like this! They'll be stuffing dollar bills into my cleavage and begging for a lap dance!"

"Well, just ... try to tuck them in," Riley suggested, demonstrating her advice on herself. “You know, the way guys tuck in their junk.”

Alyssa shook her head adamantly, attempting to slide the top of the dress up higher. "I don't think that'll work. It's already extremely tight."

“That’s what he said,” Riley quipped with a snicker, much to the chagrin of her longtime friend, who simply blinked back. “Wow, not even a smile. Come on, Lyss, it’s not that hard.”

Alyssa grinned despite herself, “That’s what she said.”

Riley stepped closer, reaching out to grab a portion of the garment covering Alyssa's bosom, and declared, "Alright, If I can squeeze my fat ass into this dress, you can cram those giant melons into yours. So, get to pushin’, girl.”

-----------

After 10 minutes of stuffing uncooperative breasts into a gown, Alyssa and Riley stepped out of the boutique and made their way to the bottom of the main staircase outside of the ballroom, where Rashad and Maxwell were waiting eagerly for them.

A grim-faced Rashad approached the pair as they neared. “We were beginning to worry about you two. I hope you didn’t have any trouble.” He reached out and greeted Alyssa with a friendly kiss to the cheek as Riley made her way up to Maxwell, who did the same.

“No troubles,” Alyssa assured him, before staring down at her chest to make sure certain parts were still contained inside her dress. “Just some slight wardrobe issues that I think we’ve taken care of.”

Riley frowned, rubbing a soothing hand over her squeezed-in stomach. “Let’s just say we both feel like canned biscuits.”

“And I’m petrified of canned biscuits!” Alyssa shrieked, then spoke in a lower, punier voice in Rashad’s direction. “They make that popping sound that scares the hell out of me.” He nodded sympathetically at her admission, having no clue what canned biscuits were.

Maxwell let out a chuckle. “Either way, you both look awesome! Like two totally righteous peas in a pod and all that jazz.” He peeked over at Riley, who wasn’t appearing too sure of herself, or of anything for that matter, knowing she’d spent most of the day in a subtle panic. While she steadied her breath, he looped his arm through hers and leaned over. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. You’re going to go in there like the boss you are and knock them all dead. I just know it.”

Riley swallowed thickly, “But Liam --”

“Will be over the moon with excitement to see you again. Do you think I’d go through all the trouble of trying to convince you, and then Alyssa, to come all the way here -- not to mention, facing my brother’s wrath -- if I didn’t believe Liam would want to see you again?” Riley half-shrugged, but Maxwell could tell by the little glimmer of hope he caught in her eyes and the slight curl at the corner of her plush pink lips that she knew it was true. “If he’s not happy about seeing you, I’ll book you on the first flight back to New York, and you can punch me in the gut or something. But I can tell you with certainty: No man goes out with a woman and keeps his friends up most of the night talking about how amazing she was if he doesn’t want to see her again.”

Riley could feel a tinge of pink color her cheeks and looked away for a brief moment, knowing he was right. She was about to see her prince again. Simply knowing how happy Liam was when they parted ways that night made her heart flutter. The blushing suitor peered back at the towering man on her arm and smiled appreciatively. “Thanks, Max.”

As they both stared straight ahead at the set of double doors where Alyssa was making her grand entrance into the ballroom with Rashad, Riley pointed out, “You realize if you had said all that stuff to me this morning and five bloated pounds ago, I wouldn’t have cried to you all day over pints of ice cream, half a sheet cake, and a bag of Mini Snickers?”

Lord Beaumont grinned without looking at her as the orchestral music inside erupted through the newly opened threshold that awaited their crossing. A gleam of anticipation glistened the cobalt hue of his eyes.”That’s our cue. Time to look alive, Twinkle Toes, it’s showtime.”

__________

It felt like a million pairs of eyes bore through Riley when the announcer spoke her name out to the guest in the ballroom. In reality, few paid much attention to the young woman dressed in pure white, from the feathery halo perched above her fancy swept-up hairdo to the tiny heels that sparkled like glittery specks of fairy dust on her feet.

As Maxwell ushered her proudly through the spectacular crowd adorned in the finest silks and chiffons, faces concealed behind extravagant masks similar to hers, and opulent table spreads of gold and crimson, Riley searched the four corners of the room for one particular set of the bluest eyes she’d ever encountered -- she had Liam’s memorized by heart. However, the only ones she recognized came from her smiling best friend, standing casually beside the Lord of Domvallier at the bar, keeping her word to watch out for her. With a subtle grin from Alyssa to convey she had her back, the whirlwind of fear and chaotic thoughts that overwhelmed Riley quickly dissipated into thin air.

Baby steps.

While Maxwell and Riley headed to the center of the ballroom to meet up with Bertrand, across the way, Alyssa ordered a cranberry vodka from the bar. She was wearing red and needed a drink that matched perfectly with the fabric in case of accidental spillage. As the bartender poured her glass, she tore her vigilant gaze from Riley when Rashad’s cell rang. Seconds later, he covered his phone lightly with a palm and lowered it away from his ear to speak with her.

“This is my client in California. Will you be okay for a little bit while I take this out on the balcony?”

Alyssa nodded. “Of course. Take your time. Is there anything I should be doing while you’re gone?”

“Try mingling with the crowd. Get to know the other suitors. The best way to help Riley tonight is to get a feel for the competition. Figure out who you can potentially get on her side and who is going to cause her trouble.”

“With all due respect, this isn’t Survivor.”

Rashad grinned before excusing himself. “We'll see if you still feel that way by the end of the social season.”

What is it with all the Debbie Downers here? He sounds just like -- Before she could finish that thought, a stroke of irony occurred when she caught the denim-clad Drake, standing out like a sore thumb, making his way up to the bar. She quickly spun around on the barstool and hovered over her freshly poured beverage.

Tapping the bar's woodgrain top, Drake called for, “The usual,” before plopping down on the stool next to her. His woodsy scent filled the air and wafted in her direction; she wondered if he’d even recognize her.

Pressing the rim of the glass to her lips to take the first nervous sip of her drink, she wondered why she even cared if he did.

Alyssa set the vodka cranberry down on a cocktail napkin at the same time Drake reached for his tumbler of whiskey. A brush of their hands caused them both to retreat away before he bowed his head respectfully to her.

“I’m sorry, my lady.” Drake was quick to apologize. He never knew which stuck up nobles would have an issue with a commoner’s simple touch.

Alyssa lifted a brow and smirked in response. “So you do have manners?”

He’d recognize that wily voice anywhere. Grumbling, Drake responded. “Aww, hell! Pipsqueak? Is that you?”

“Hello, Sunshine.” She dimpled.

Drake shook his head. “I should have known. Of all the damn people in this room, I still managed to find you.”

“I would call that a very lucky day for you then.” Alyssa lifted her drink and tipped back a gulp. “So what’re you doing here? Don’t you have some royal cows or chickens to herd around or something? Who wears denim and jeans to a fancy ball?”

She would if she could get away with it.

His tight shoulder muscles bounced slightly with disingenuous laughter as his chestnut eyes took in her sultry devilish costume. “I could ask you the same about your own clothes. Suitors are supposed to dress up for these things. Not come as themselves.”

Offended, Alyssa arched back contemptuously. “Are you calling me a devil?”

“If the horns and pitchfork fit.” Drake retorted. He motioned with his glass across the room. “By the way, you see that blazing redhead who just stole your little friend away from Maxwell?” When Alyssa snapped her gaze protectively in that direction, he continued, “That’s Olivia. You might want to check in on … what’s her name again?”

“Riley ...” Her tone was resentful. He knows damn well what her name is.

“Whatever. Just trust me on this, if the two of you know what’s good for ya -- and I’m betting you don’t -- you’ll stay as far away from Olivia and the rest of these social-climbing fuckers as possible.” His mood suddenly shifted as he drained his drink, then slammed it on the bar top, motioning with his hand to the bartender for another.

Alyssa was quick to notice the tension in his jaw and the immense throb of protruding veins in his forearm as he nursed his drink. “What climbed up your ass and died? Why are you even here if you hate everyone so much?

He quickly snapped. “I’m here for Liam!”

“Well, I’m here for Riley!” The two of them glared at each other in a tense showdown that neither was willing to back down from. After a beat, Alyssa’s determination weakened somewhat; confrontations made her jittery.

And with him in particular.

Letting her shoulders slump, Alyssa let out a soft breath as she relaxed. “I’m trying to give her some space … but do I need to go check on Riley?” The question was asked sincerely.

Drake turned his head back, his vision crossing the vast expanse of the room and landing on a perturbed Riley in conversation with Olivia. He scowled, recognizing the expression impressed on her face all too well. “We’re outsiders, Alyssa. You. Me. Riley. That’s the only thing they’ll ever see. It’s the only way they’ll ever treat us.” He shifted to face Alyssa again. “Take that for what you will. If she were my friend … I would.”

_______

Riley shook her head emphatically. “There’s no way I’m supposed to kiss the king’s shoe. That’s weird, creepy, and-and- unsanitary!” She nodded toward a masked couple standing before the seated king who bowed, curtsied, and then exited to the left. “They didn’t kiss his shoe. I think you’re full of shit.”

“Riley, Riley, Riley.” The duchess shook her head with an exasperated tone. “Those people are well-established and highly-regarded members of the court … you’re not. And while I admit it’s a rather unorthodox Cordonian royal custom, it’s part of our tradition that the newest members humble themselves before the king in an act of deep respect and reverence. I’m actually astounded Maxwell never bothered to tell you.” She flipped back a thick curly-q strand of hair that hung over her shoulders. “Do what you want. But don’t say I didn’t try to help you.”

Riley hesitated. “I guess I’ll keep it in mind …?”

“Great!” Olivia wrapped a firm hand around Riley’s wrist and pulled her toward the throne where the king sat. “You’re so lucky that I was here to warn you! Otherwise, you’d have looked utterly ridiculous.”

“Wait! Where are we going? Riley demanded, her feet barely able to keep up with the brisk pace.

“To present you to King Constantine.”

“But I need to wait for my sponsor!” Riley protested. She struggled to break free, but the redhead’s clawlike grip was surprisingly strong.

“Every second counts, Riley. These women have all known Liam for years. The early bird gets the Crown.”

“But I --” Panicked, Riley scoured the room for the Beaumonts and found them standing near the hors d'oeuvres table embroiled in what appeared to be a heated discussion.

“What the fuck?” On the opposite side of the ballroom, Alyssa spotted Olivia hauling Riley across the floor. Before Drake had the chance to warn her this wasn’t good, an enraged Alyssa was already sliding down off the barstool, stampeding off in hot pursuit of finding out what this redheaded troll was doing with her best friend.

And for reasons he couldn’t fully understand, feeling frustrated beyond comprehension, Drake followed right on her heels.

Coming to a screeching halt before the raised dais, Olivia thrust Riley forward, who nearly tripped from the momentum into the bottom step at the sudden stop.

It took every ounce of restraint Riley had not to turn toward the woman who had forcibly dragged her across the room and to stick a pair of size-seven heels straight up her ass. She, however, liked the pretty, sparkly shoes she had on too much to ruin them … and wanted to end the evening outside of a hospital bed. “Asshole,” she muttered almost soundlessly.

“Your Majesty,” Olivia smirked. “I would like to present to you the suitor House Beaumont has chosen. Lady Riley.”

Riley gave her a cursory glare. It was the moment of truth. She plastered on her best smile for the King, who regarded her with a nod.

Just … just do it. “Your Majesty.” Riley dipped into a low curtsy and held it in place for several seconds before contemplating the validity of Olivia’s outlandish claim and swallowing hard. “Here goes nothing.”

Placing both palms on the plush red carpeting that laid at the feet of the King, she lowered herself slowly until her knees rested on the top step.

“What the hell is she doing?” Alyssa questioned as she desperately weaved around a sea of faces, dodging server trays and tables along the way. “And where the hell is Maxwell?”

“I don’t know ...” Drake answered, practically pushing her even more quickly through the crowd, “ … but you better move faster. There’s no damn telling what Olivia told her to do.”

Riley paused briefly, staring at the simple black shoes that almost resembled a shiny boot. She wanted to be kissing Liam right now, not his father’s old fricking foot. Worst vacation ever.

Lowering her head gradually toward Constantine’s shoes, she scrunched up her face and reluctantly puckered up.

Out of nowhere, a body with the vigor of a wild stallion in full sprint barrelled into her side, sending Riley hurling across the dais and causing her to land face-down on the marbled floor below.

"What is the meaning of this?" An enraged Constantine bolted up, his ire focused on Alyssa, hunkered down on all fours at his feet, striving to catch her breath.

Maxwell and Bertrand heard the commotion and came rushing to Riley’s side when they realized it was her sprawled out and jerking on the floor.

"I'm so sorry, Your Majesty," an apologetic Alyssa said as she reached up for the hand Drake was offering. The King's glare at her was nerve-wracking as he waited for an explanation -- until Drake stepped up in front of her, blocking her view of the incensed monarch. "I can explain."

"I hope you can, young lady." Constantine glowered, baffled as to why Drake Walker was still standing between them … and mirroring every movement she made. When she shifted, he shifted. When she moved her arm, he did the same. Was this some type of game?

“Uh … um.” Alyssa's mind raced with excuses. She couldn't very well tell him the truth and make Riley or herself look bad -- she was still a representative of Duchy Domvallier. There was only one thing she could think of to say as she whipped around Drake and pointed at him. "This man pushed me!"

Drake's body stiffened at her accusation. "The hell you talking about?"

She covered her eyes with a hand, pretending to sob. "I was on my way up here to pay my respects to you, sir, when this man ..." she paused to take in a fake stuttering breath, "... came out of nowhere and pushed me from behind. I tried to stop myself from running into anyone, but I couldn't. Too much momentum." Alyssa lowered her hand and stared at a wide-eyed Drake. "I’m just a small person, mister. Why would you do that? Why? What did I ever do to hurt you?"

"I never --"

"Drake?" The King eyed him sternly. "Is this true? Did you push this young woman?"

Drake’s defensive stance was no match for Alyssa’s pleading eyes, begging him to save her from this. “Please,” she mouthed.

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “I … I’m sorry, Sir. Lady Alyssa’s extremely long dress was dragging the floor and I stepped on it. When I lifted my foot off, she ... I don’t know … flung forward. I tried to grab her before she went flying, but she got away, and that must be why she thought I pushed her.” Drake lowered his gaze to Alyssa. “You really shouldn’t shop in the adult section, miss.”

“Is it possible you were mistaken, Lady ... Alyssa?”

She nodded. “Yes, that is surely possible,” she agreed in a rehearsed-sounding tone. “It’s all coming back to me now.”

“Well, then.” Constantine's contented glance drifted to Drake. “It’s good to know you didn’t push an innocent suitor on purpose, Drake. But just know this … I’ll be watching you.”

“Looking forward to it, sir. Thank you, sir.” Drake quickly bowed his head as Constantine returned to his seat to greet the next guest. He grabbed Alyssa’s elbow and rushed her off to the side of the dais.

-----------

Maxwell knelt beside a disheveled Riley, helping her rise to her feet and dusting her off.

“Lady Riley,” a scowling Bertrand glared, “what on earth is the meaning of this? The glory of House Beaumont is on the line tonight, and you’ve already made your first blunder. I told you, Maxwell, this was a mistake.”

Slightly dazed, Riley stumbled while massaging a sore wrist. Inclining her head so she could see him under the halo that drooped over her eyes, she retorted, “I was shoved, Berturd. It’s not like I did this on purpose. And thank you for your concern; I’m fine, by the way.”

“Shoved? By whom?” The three of them turned to see Alyssa and Drake scampering off to a corner. “It was Domvallier’s suitor?” Bertrand asked incredulously. “This is preposterous! It’s beneath Lord Rashad’s character to have his suitor and Drake Walker sabotage ours. I will have to go over there and put an end to this travesty at once.”

“NO!” Riley and Maxwell barked.

"Bertrand. Why don't you let Riley and I handle them while you play damage control with the King? Unless ..." he smirked. " You want me to smooth things over with His Majesty? I have a lot to say about how Twinkle Toes just SAILED through the air at warp speed --"

"Dear God, no, Maxwell! There will be no need for your … input. But, you two, get results from Drake and that suitor. No funny business," he warned.

The two of them nodded in understanding. As soon as Bertrand turned his back and marched away, they both gave a knowing glance to the other before rushing over to Drake and Alyssa, who had just made it to a far corner of the ballroom,

Alyssa yanked her elbow away from his vice-like grasp. “I believe we’re out of the clear; you can let go of me now.”

“Listen. I have to tell you something, ‘cause you need to know it ... “ Drake swallowed thickly, his rounded eyes focused squarely on the woman who’d just thrown him under the bus to King Constantine. He spoke as if he had something caught in his throat, “You--your-- uh -- ”

“And who made these damn shoes, anyway?” Alyssa complained as she hiked up the lower part of her dress and stepped out of her heels. Her already short stature lowered several inches. “They clearly hate short women and feet. Seriously, who thought walking around like a newborn calf was sexy?”

“Alyssa,” Drake tried again to speak through a strained voice, “You need to listen --”

“Hey!” Riley interrupted as she and Maxwell stepped up to them. “Why’d you push me off that stage thingy? And OH MY GOD, ALYSSA! YOUR --” Maxwell slapped a hand over Riley’s mouth, knowing exactly what her big mouth was getting ready to loudly announce.

Her frantic muffled words continued to blabber through his tightly clasped hand.

Alyssa gave him a confused look. “Maxwell, what are you doing?”

“Just stopping her before she told everyone within earshot ...” he paused fleetingly, lowering his gaze from the muddled expression on her face to her chest. “Your bosoms … well, they have emerged.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you before,” a flustered Drake said as Alyssa let out a gasp and looked down. “You’ve been ... exposed … since --” He was quickly cut off again by her tiny wail as she fixed herself and dashed out of the ballroom, mortified, her arms crossed over her chest.

--------------------

Riley tapped lightly on the women’s restroom door. “Lyss? You okay in there?”

“No!” Her pouty voice rang back. “I’m the laughingstock of this entire court.”

Maxwell chuckled, hollering back. “You don’t have to worry about that, Lady Alyssa. I’ve already got that title covered in spades.”

“You two need to get back to the ball,” Drake said gruffly, referring to the girls. “Liam will be arriving any minute.”

“You’re right. There are probably five people in there who still haven’t gotten an up close shot of my breasts.” Alyssa swung the door open, bitterly hitching up the front of her dress as she stepped out, and glared up at Drake as she walked by. “And you let me walk around like that!”

“I did not!” He flushed a deep, dark red. “I told you, that’s why I was standing in front of you, so no one would see … ugh, fuck it. Just -- let’s go, okay?”

A remorseful Riley hugged Alyssa. “I’m so sorry my dumb ass was what caused this to happen to you. Thank you for making sure I didn’t make a fool of myself.”

Alyssa squeezed tighter. “It was way better that it happened to me than you. We can definitely have a good laugh over this by the time I’m, like, 150.” When they let go of one another, she smiled at her friend. “Come on, we have a ball to get back to. And you have a prince to dazzle.”

“Oh, you guys go on ahead. I need a minute to straighten up.”

Drake, Alyssa, and Maxwell headed back inside while Riley spent a few minutes in the bathroom wiping away the dust off her dress and getting her hair back in order as best as she could. Plus, she just needed a moment to herself; it was the first time since she woke up that morning that someone wasn’t hovering over her shoulder or trying to impress someone. There also were some major jitters happening knowing the Prince was arriving at any second.

Stepping out a few minutes later, Riley headed back down the hallway, hopeful she still appeared as presentable as when she arrived earlier.

Dotted along the walls that trailed back to the ballroom were portraits and artwork of kings and queens. Judging by the large periwigs, justaucorps, and stockings over breeches depicted, obviously they were quite old. One particular painting caught her attention enough to halt her steps before she plastered on a naughty grin.

“Ohhhh, what do we have here?” Riley snickered, leaning in closer to get a better glimpse. “I see London, I see France, I see a very hung King without his pants.” She fanned a hand in front of her face and spoke as if she were Scarlett O’Hara herself. “My, my, my, Fabian, I haven’t seen a lot of those, but I do declare, you put all the Yanks I’ve been with to shame. I’d be remiss to not ask if you were generous enough to pass on certain sizable traits, say to … Oh, I don’t know, the current Crown Prince?”

“Frankly, my dear … I don’t think he gave a damn,” a deep voice quipped over her shoulder.

Riley spun around, her body crashing into the portrait and causing it to rattle against the wall and lean heavily. Her face burned red-hot as soon as she heard his voice, even though every ounce of blood in her body seemed to rush to her wobbly feet. Liam reached out, grasping hold of her arms to brace her as she stared back, slack-jawed and weak-kneed, at his half-masked face, smiling warmly. “L-L-Li --”

“My sincerest apologies if I startled you, my lady. Are you okay?”

Her throat was dry, and surely no one in all history had ever been as embarrassed as she was at that moment, but she managed to answer feebly, “I think … I pissed my pants.” They both looked down at the floor simultaneously, relief washing over them that there were no puddles. Riley closed her eyes and let out a heavy breath. “Oh, thank God.”

Liam chuckled, his twinkling blue eyes glued to her flustered face. “You’re just as beautiful as you were that night in New York, Riley Brooks.”

“Wait … you know that it’s me? Are you surprised? Are you upset? Do you think I’m some creepy stalker now? I swear I’ve never even touched a weapon.”

“Really? What happened to your bag of Chinese throwing stars?” Liam teased lightheartedly. Riley tilted her head in confusion. “You remember, the ones you were going to throw at me in the alley outside of your bar --”

“Oh. Yes. Right,” she laughed awkwardly as the memory came to her. “Yeah, I may have embellished the truth there a bit. Twenty-pound hams seem to be more my weapon of choice.” Riley hung her head. Why the hell did I just tell him that? When Bastien cleared his throat and gave Liam a pointed look, Riley knew their time was short. “I know you have to go, but I just need to know something: How did you know I was here? Maxwell tried to get in touch with you and never heard back. I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me showing up here.”

“I’ve been quite busy since leaving New York with preparations for the social season and the Masquerade kicking off this evening. But it was Drake who came pounding on my door this morning to fill me in. You can imagine my surprise when he told me that you were here, and, I quote, ‘brought her small aggressive friend with her as guard dog.’”

Riley smirked with a shrug. “Can ya blame a girl? I came to win. Besides, I really like you, Liam.”

He smiled. “I really like you too, Riley. But this isn’t New York. As much as I wish we could just pick up where we left off two nights ago, this entire series of events is set up not just to give me time with my potential matches, but also to give my parents, the Council, and the people of Cordonia time to get to know the future queen. From now on, everyone will be watching you and ... Lady Alyssa.” Liam paused to chuckle and shake his head in amusement. “You actually got your friend to pose as a fake suitor and somehow convinced an honorable and highly dignified member of the court to sponsor her?”

“Yeaaaah, I still don’t know how the hell I did that. I should get extra points for my manipulation skills”

Liam laughed. "I believe you mean, negotiation skills."

Riley nodded. "Yeah, those too."

Already well past the time to make his grand entrance, Bastien approached Liam to give the final warning. Liam acknowledged him and turned back to Riley. “I hope I’ll see you again later tonight, if you’ll save a dance for me. But until then …” He pressed her willing body against the wall, tracing the back of his forefinger along her velvety cheek. “ … just know how very, very, happy I am to have you here, Riley.” His lips were fire and ice when he leaned down to meet her equally fevered ones in a lingering kiss. And she melted right into him.

With that, Liam was whisked away by the head guard and made his way into the ballroom. As a panting Riley brushed her fingertips over the tingling in her bottom lip, she felt so many things all at once: relief that he was happy she was there and already knew everything regarding Alyssa, and that same exhilarating bliss that swept her off her feet two days ago when they shared their time together. But he was abundantly clear, this wasn’t New York anymore, and he still had a duty and obligation to Cordonia regardless of his apparent feelings for her.

Riley let a puff of air and pushed her backside off the wall to return inside. Just as she did this, the crooked frame bearing the likeness of the late King Fabian she admired earlier fell from its hook and crashed to the floor, causing the ancient glass to shatter beside her. With her head shrunken into her shoulders, Riley slowly peeked out one eye and saw the damage. Glancing down one end of the hall to the other to see if anyone saw her, she glanced down at the shards and still fully intact artwork. Normally she would have hightailed it out of there, but she couldn’t help herself from giving her destruction parting words.

“I guess you’re not … hung anymore.”

Then she bolted the hell out of there.

--------------

Fearless tags: @dcbbw @ao719 @texaskitten30 @janezillow @mskaneko @callmeellabella @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @amandablink @choiceskatie @annekebbphotography @ofpixelsandscribbles @alyssalauren @mom2000aggie @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @pink-diamond13 @tinkie1973 @queenrileyrose @zaffrenotes @no-one-u-know @sammie0220 @shanzay44 @yourmajesty09 @bitchloveskcbaseball @kat-tia801 @openheart12 @drakeandkatherine @marshmallowsandfire @masterofbluff @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @msjr0119 @hopelessromanticmonie @sanchita012 @gabesmommie1130 @charlotteg234 @jessiembruno @debramcg1106 @neotericthemis @iaminlovewithtrr @sweetest-marbear @darley1101 @choicesstan650 @shewillreadyou @emkay512 @txemrn @lucy-268 @axwalker @busywoman

#fearless #drake x mc #liam x mc #drake walker #king liam #prince liam #the royal romance #trr #choices fanfiction #liam x riley #drake x alyssa

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ms-demeanor · 4 years

Note

You are the one who reblogged a post with a bunch of resources about treating wounds and foraging and using a rifle. You, other anarchists, are where I’m getting the sense of the “life” I’m supposed to look forward to. Not movies.

You know how I know you’re not talking about me?

Because I’m actually really, really fucking cautious about not reblogging information about foraging because I literally know someone who poisoned his dumb ass foraging and died and I would not share that kind of resource with someone who I’m not 100% sure is excellent at woodcraft and has a shitload of outdoor experience. I actually pretty stridently recommend that you DON’T learn how to forage from online resources.

Juuuuuust in case I double checked my blog back through august.

What are you talking about? No forage resources or rifle resources here, at least not for the last 22 days. The one wound treatment thing I’ve reblogged this month is a link to CERT classes, which are community emergency response classes.

I don’t make a secret of the fact that I am pro gun ownership but I also don’t make a secret of the fact that I think if people are pro gun they also need to be pro gun safety education - there are way too many firearms in the US for us to *not* teach kids how to handle them safely. But I sure do NOT talk about having gun battles on this blog because I think that’s glorifying a fantasy version of a fast, easy revolution that I don’t believe in.

(however, as always, if you’re in my general area, don’t know how to use guns, and would like to learn I am available to teach you the basics, as much as social distancing and global pandemics allow anyway)

But. Also.

Buddy, let’s pretend it’s four years ago, or nine years ago, or twenty years ago. Let’s pretend that whatever party is in office doesn’t matter and is totally unrelated to everything.

Have you ever lived through a large earthquake?

A tornado?

A hurricane?

Sometimes infrastructure fails and knowing how to treat wounds is a very, very, very good idea.

Everyone should take a first aid class. I think first aid classes should be a requirement for graduating high school. I first got CPR certified with my girl scout troop when I was 12 and my mom took me to a mobile morgue class when I was 7 because my mom was the department safety coordinator for the DWP in Los Angeles and she was in charge of earthquake drills and first aid training and disaster preparedness and the Northridge quake had just happened.

I grew up taking first aid incredibly seriously, reading “Hatchet,” and my idea of fun is getting a vehicle stuck in an inland sea or going backpacking and encountering a bear. Learning woundcare and treatment for heatstroke and hypothermia is. Like. It’s a pretty big part of making sure I’m doing stupid bullshit as safely as possible.

Also, yeah, I’ve totally superglued my finger closed and used fishing finger wraps to seal a cut and used coffee stir sticks and electrical tape to make finger splint. Even with insurance it still costs me a couple hundred dollars to go to the ER or several hours to go to an urgent care, and that’s when I’ve HAD insurance. Knowing how to safely treat non-life-threatening injuries is just something you should know how to do if you’re broke in America; I’m lucky that I can afford to go to the ER now; that has not always been the case for me.

You ever hung out with really drunk friends? Do you know how to check eye tracking? Do you know how to put someone in the recovery position?

You ever had a friend get clocked with a boot in the pit? Do you know how to check pupil dilation to see if you need to get to a hospital ASAP?

Buddy, you don’t have to be worried about the end of the world to want to get prepared to handle an injury while camping and you don’t have to be an anarchist to think it’s a good idea to know how to treat heatstroke.

ANYWAY there’s this flaw in the human brain called negativity bias, which is where we remember negative, scary stuff more than we remember good, positive stuff.

I’m generally a pretty positive blogger, the resource lists I reblog tend to be things like “here are mutual aid groups” and “learn how to be a hacker” and “here’s how to support people who lose access to abortion.” If you’re getting primarily negativity out of the stuff that I’m reblogging I believe you’re missing the forest for the trees, bud.

The way to handle and cope with negativity bias is to be aware of it! If you’re sitting there going “everything is terrible!” ask yourself “is everything actually really terrible or am I only remembering terrible things?”

2020 is actually a fucking FANTASTIC example of that because there has been a lot of bad shit going on but there have also been really great examples of humans helping each other and people working to take care of each other and apparently Venus might have aliens and that’s just really fucking cool. There is a BUNCH of negative shit out there and we do hear about it all the time but don’t let that bury the positive shit.

You know what I want people to take away from that resource post? That you can and should protect your community from speed traps by reporting cops on traffic apps, and that by reporting cops on traffic apps you are doing a tangibly good thing to prevent marginalized groups from being targeted by police.

That’s a real, simple, easy thing that you can do to actually help people - speed traps don’t work if people don’t know about them and it’s why cops have tried to make it illegal for drivers to warn each other about them.

The idea that the government of the United States is going to collapse tomorrow and things will devolve into gun battles in the streets and foraging to keep from starving seems fairly farfetched but even if that does happen you know that mutual aid helped people survive the great depression, right?

And I don’t want to do the “you should feel #blessed that you’re better off than those people in POOR, UNDEVELOPED countries” thing but people get up and live their lives every day in conditions that require them to forage and navigate violent areas.

It’s shitty that people have to live like that, I wish they didn’t have to and I don’t want more people to have to live in extreme poverty in places that are violent, but it seems kind of. I don’t know. Arrogant? To decide you’re better than that so you might as well lay down and die.

“What do I have to look forward to” - buddy, the world doesn’t owe you a happy ending. You have the rest of your life to look forward to. You have friendships and laughter and cool projects and the people you’ll help someday and the people who will help you someday and sunsets and ripe fruit and meteor showers to look forward to.

Nearly everywhere in the world, through all of history, even peasants danced.

You’ve got the world to look forward to.

And if everything does go to hell in a handbasket and there are gun battles in the streets and you’re trying to make sure you’re gathering morels and not deathcaps then you’ve STILL got the world to look forward to and how you go into it is going to be up to you no matter how a fucking election turns out.

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shipskicksandgiggles · 3 years

Text

Title: Or Whatever

Pairing(s): Harley Keener x Peter Parker

Summary: You know how college students are. Ridiculous, a little thick in the head, and always ready to party.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, drunk college students

AO3 Link: x

A/N: I wrote this a month ago and forgot so here. it’s them at a frat party

~~~

“Please tell me that coffee doesn’t have alcohol in it,” the guy walking up to Harley said.

Harley slid a mug across the counter. “Cross and heart and hope to die, man. I gotta drive for some of these assholes.”

“Oh, you’re an angel.” The guy took a sip of the coffee and groaned. “Fuck me, this is the best coffee I’ve ever had.”

“Hi, I’m Harley the barista making everyone’s dreams come true at frat parties,” he introduced himself. “Turns out having espresso under your nails 4 hours a day, 5 days a week is good for something.”

“Damn son,” he whistled appreciatively. “I’m Will by the way. You here with anybody?”

“Got some friends here. Ned Leeds, one of the guys from the house, dragged me out. Claims I’m too anti-social, which is funny because he was anti-social not even a year ago. So I know him and a couple of other buddies I went to high school with, but that’s it.”

“Not from around here, huh?” Will asked.

“Nope. My bad for wanting to major in aerospace engineering in another state and not wanting to know a single person there.”

Will barked out a laugh. “Aerospace engineering?”

“Don’t even. If my dad had his way I’d be a mechanical engineer like I haven’t been building circles around those losers since I was 16. Enough about me though, what do you do?”

“Basic as hell, but I’m a psych major. Love seeing how the human brain works, yknow?”

Harley nodded, staring off into the crowd. “You’d like my friend MJ. She’s crazy about that kinda shit.”

“She over with them?” He nodded to the group of people Harley was looking at.

“Nah, I think she went out back to flirt with a girl. Just keepin’ an eye on the rest of my friends so they don’t do something stupid. They should be fine for now though. Tell me about yourself Will.”

~~~

“You’re playing truth or dare.”

“Wh- huh?”

Ned had grabbed Peter’s sleeve and was dragging him over to a group of people sitting in a circle on the floor. “Guys this is Peter, he’s a friend. Be nice.”

They were met with a series of drunken greetings and Ned dropped to the ground, pulling Peter down with him. “Why am I doing this?”

“Because I’m not letting you sit on the wall all night and this is the fastest way to get you drunk.”

“You played truth or dare before, pretty boy?” a new voice asked.

Peter looked at the guy who’d spoken and smiled. “Once or twice.”

“Name’s Danny, sweet thing, but I can’t think but to imagine how you’d sound calling me Da-”

“Not interested.”

He heard Ned snort as the guy tossed his hands up. “Understood. Grab a shot, and when you can’t go through with something, drink.”

Someone handed him a shot of something that smelled really strong. “Alright. Let's get this thing started then, shall we?”

~~~

A little while later, Peter was definitely hammered. He started by only asking for truth questions, but all the questions were… were… invasive as hell to say the least.

Asking who you have a crush on is one thing, asking about the last thing you did sexually with another person… that’s another.

So he drank.

And drank.

Now he was past tipsy, but it felt nice. Light even. He heard his laughs coming out louder and louder. It felt good.

When he let his head roll to the side a little, he caught a glimpse of Harley talking to someone he didn’t know. “Hey Ned? Ned!”

“What’s up?”

“Who’s um. Who’s talkin’ to Harley?”

Ned snickered. “That’s Will. He’s a good guy, and Harley’s just his type. Jealous?”

He scrunched up his face. “Why’d I be jealous? Jus’ wanted to know his name ‘s all. Maybe I wanna take ‘im home.”

“I’m sure.” Ned rolled his eyes. “Who’s up?”

A girl off to Peter’s right, Ana maybe, squealed. “I just went! Truth or dare, Ned.”

He chose truth, but Peter barely heard his answer. It was lucky he didn’t miss Ned asking him next.

“Dare.” Shit, he really must be drunk.

“I dare you to go kiss Harley.”

“But-”

“You either kiss him or drink, man.”

Peter glanced back at Harley and caught his eye. Harley cocked his head a little and frowned as if to ask him what was wrong.

“Fine.”

~~~

He almost missed it, but Peter was definitely looking at him funny. Harley watched him almost stumble as he stood up from the circle, completely missing what Will was saying as Peter made his way over.

“Hey baby, whatsa matter?”

Peter positioned himself between his legs and let Harley rest his arms around his waist. “Got dared to kiss you.”

“Mhmm. How many drinks have you had, sweetheart?”

“Jus’ a few.”

“A few too many, I think.”

His pout was absolutely adorable, and Harley had to resist the urge to kiss it off his face. “‘M fine.”

“Peter, you’re drunk.”

“Doesn’t matter. I gotta kiss you or I gotta drink, those are the rules.”

“Okay, how about I make you a new set of rules, huh? I will kiss you-” Peter’s face brightened- “if you drink this bottle of water for me after, deal? Then you can go back, finish your turn, and tap out for the night so we can get you into bed.”

“What if I don’t wanna?”

“Then I won’t kiss you.”

He gasped as if scandalized. “You don’t mean that!”

“I don’t care that I’m your boyfriend, I reserve the right to not kiss you when you’re being ridiculous. Tap out, love, I think you’ve had enough.”

“What about Ned and MJ?”

“MJ left with somebody and will be picked up in the morning. She texted me her location already so I can make sure she’s safe. Ned can either find a ride or stay here, and based on how much he’s had to drink tonight, he’s probably just gonna stay here. It’s time to go, bubs.”

“They dunno we’re dating.”

“Not yet.”

“You think Ned’ll figure it out?”

Harley glanced over Peter’s shoulder at him. Ned was smirking like he finally got his way with something. “Unfortunately I have known Ned for too long, and he currently thinks he has the upperhand, so I guess we’re just gonna have to let him know, huh?”

Peter smiled and straightened up a little. “I’ll tap out. Kiss now?”

He shook his head and laughed, but tugged Peter closer to kiss him softly.

“You taste like coffee,” Peter told him.

“You taste like tequila.”

“Yeah, but coffee is just so you. I love it.”

“I thought you hated coffee.”

He lolled his head to one side. “I mean sure, but you always smell like coffee and you usually taste like it too. It’s not bad if it's you.”

“Anybody ever tell you that you’re a sap?”

“Yeah, you.”

“Good. Take a sip please.” He held the bottle to Peter’s lips and encouraged him to drink some of it. “See, that wasn’t so hard.”

Peter shook his head and leaned back so Harley had to tighten his arms around his waist just so he wouldn’t fall. “Can we go now?”

“Go finish your turn, baby. I have to put this mug in the sink and then I’ll be right over, huh? We can get food on the way home.”

“Okay!”

Harley slid off his stool once Peter walked away and set his mug in the sink before tossing the old coffee filter and starting a new batch.

“Didn’t realize you had a boyfriend.”

He’d completely forgotten about Will. “Yeah. He’s kinda cute or whatever,” he said nonchalantly, but he couldn’t keep the smile out of his eyes. “Always said if I dated anyone, I’d prefer to date my best friend.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Mhmm.” Harley switched on the coffee pot. “Listen man, it was great talking to you.”

“Thanks for keeping me company,” Will responded. “And if my flirting made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”

Harley snorted. “Good thing I am a fucking moron because I did not notice. Trust me man, you’re fine, no hard feelings. Hope you find a guy who’s not dumb as a box of rocks and is willing to take you home. Look, I gotta go but have a good night, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Peter had gotten back to the group and seemed to be engaged in conversation.

“Ready bubs?”

He looked up at Harley and smiled. “One sec.” Peter leaned to say something in Ned’s ear before hopping up and practically attaching himself to Harley’s side. “Bye!”

The circle chorused their goodbyes as Harley squatted down next to Ned. “Do you have a ride or should I come back and pick you up?”

Ned waved him off. “I’ll text you in the morning. Go have fun with your boyfriend, asshole. See if I introduce you to my next partner.”

“You know I’ll find out before you tell me.”

“This is why no one likes you.”

“Everyone likes me, you’re just jealous that Peter got to me before you did.” As he stood back up, he felt his knees pop.

Apparently Ned heard it too. “You’re getting old, Keener.”

“Suck my dick, Leeds.”

“You wish!”

Harley ignored him. “Text me in the morning, and if you get murdered, call MJ. I don’t wanna pick up your corpse.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get outta here!”

“Peter? C’mon babe, car’s this way.”

Peter grinned and kissed Harley on the cheek. Harley did not miss him flipping Ned off from behind his back.

“Behave and I’ll let you pick what food we get.”

His reaction was immediate. Peter ducked his head and held on to his sleeve. “Can we get chicken nuggets?”

“You’re a baby.”

“I’m drunk and I’m your baby. You should get me chicken nuggets.”

“Why I decided to go out with you, I have no idea.”

They reached the car, and Peter opened the passenger side door. “Please, like you could love anyone else the way you love me.”

Harley only sighed. It wasn’t like he was wrong.

#parkner #harley keener x peter parker #harleypeter #harley keener #peter parker #established relationship #secret relationship #college parties #drinking #this is honestly so dumb but guess what #i'm dumb #and I wanted to write something tropey #so fuck you #ellis writes

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aquilamage · 3 years

Text

AA Prosecutor Week Day 6 - Mistake

It’s been a past 24 hours and I happened to leave editing etc for this to the last minute, so you all get the edition here but are gonna have to wait for the fic site versions (I’ll put the links in a reblog)

Faraday brain yet again, this time the result of me thinking about what the combination of Byrne having yelled at Gumshoe for being late on his first day and the fact that both Kay and Badd got very close to Gumshoe just by the end of Reminiscence might turn into in an au where Byrne didn’t die and had to deal with this conflict of opinion.

content warnings for vague mentions of recovering from injury, some cussing, and aai2 spoilers for a character (if you want to skip that, it’s the part right after a scene break, starting with “Tyrell had been underestimating” and ok to start at the paragraph beginning “He’d had all of ten minutes”)

“You’re not authorized to be back yet,” Badd said without looking up.

“Not yet,” Byrne agreed, leaning on the corner of the desk and over his shoulder, “but the doctor says I’m cleared to start work on Monday as long as I don’t do anything too strenuous.”

“I hope they only mean physically, or else you’ll still be out for a while.” He didn’t actually sigh, but that sentiment was readily apparent in his voice. “Considering how much of a fuss they’ve been kicking up about the incident, they’re only going to be giving you even more hell once they’re allowed to bother you again.”

He grimaced. He already knew that – being the detective in charge of both the court case and investigating Yew’s attempted double murder, Tyrell had shouldered the brunt of the questioning from both of their supervisors (not to mention actually investigating, watching Kay while Byrne was in the hospital (and even after, simply adding on helping Byrne out around the house and driving (despite his insisting that he could just take a taxi, it wasn’t a big deal)), and worrying over the Faradays and the dire implications of Yew’s betrayal on their future). Byrne was sure if it had been any detective other than Badd, he would’ve been harassed as soon as he’d regained consciousness.

A light nudge stirred him out of his thoughts. “What are you doing here?” Badd frowned.

“I came to pick up my daughter,” he said in a playfully accusatory tone.

Badd ignored the way he drifted further into his personal space, going through forms. “I’m done in...an hour, and I would have dropped her home then.” (It would hardly have been “dropping” her off, since Badd was still too paranoid to leave them alone for so long. Byrne had been tempted more than once now to tell him that if he didn’t start going back to his own apartment for more than an hour at a time, he might as well move in, considering how long it had been since the incident.)

“Yes, but considering that lately you’ve been watching her more than I have, I figured you were due for a break.” Pausing for a second, he looked around unnecessarily. “Although it seems you’ve already taken care of it.” More casually, he added, “who has her this time?”

“Marshall.” Badd stood, leaning away from Byrne rather than jostling into him like he normally would. Byrne never would have thought he’d miss that so much. As long as he didn’t keep treating him so delicately as he recovered, he could live with it.

But when they got to Detective Marshall’s desk, she was nowhere to be seen or heard.

“She finished all her work up,” he explained, “and I’m swamped, so she was getting bored, so I handed her off to-” He perked up, looking at a spot behind the two of them. “Hey, Angel. Just in time to drop off the kid.”

Turning around, he quickly noticed that once again the only person in sight was the other detective, and she was frowning heavily.

“Would be, if I had her. I’m just here to get some documents, since-”

“Detective Starr!” A shrill voice cut her off. “You can socialize with your colleagues later. We have an important case to-” As Payne walked through the doorway, he immediately flinched. “Ah, Detective Badd.” His tone had quieted, if not really softening, as he tapped his hand to his forehead. “A new case has popped up, and I figured one of your detectives would be up to the task.”

Badd nodded impassively.

Payne stood there for another moment, somehow expecting more of a response. When he finally realized that he wasn’t getting one, he turned, noticing Byrne for the first time. “Faraday. Weren’t you…?” he waved his hand vaguely.

“Yes, I was,” he said flatly. He supposed the other could have been more tactless, but not by much. “I’m just here for my daughter today.”

At that, the other prosecutor’s expression soured (more). “Well, now that you have more time on your hands, maybe you can teach her some better manners. She very rudely interrupted me to comment on my voice, and then had the audacity to say that she ‘has volume control issues too,’ whatever that means,” he scoffed.

“Did she now.” It took a great deal of effort not to laugh. “I’ll be sure to discuss that with her later.” And he meant it, even if not in the way Payne was thinking. Apparently she’d called von Karma scary to his face (he both wished he could’ve been present to see his reaction and knew it was for the better he wasn’t, because that was a case where he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from laughing), and while his coworkers certainly deserved the (frankly, ridiculously light) teasing, he’d prefer Kay not attract any more of their attention than absolutely necessary. Then he looked over to Starr. “Goodman, then? Or Skye?”

She shook her head, and he was about to give a ‘did you guys lose my kid again’ quip when Payne butted in again. “She’s with that new detective, whatshisname that you were training.”

“Gumshoe,” she said, taking advantage of Payne facing away from her to roll her eyes. “Should still be in 217.”

Something about the name felt familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Giving her a quick thanks, Byrne headed down the hall to the other office, Badd following.

This time, Kay was actually in there. Perched on a desk with her legs dangling off the edge, she stared down at the spread of Pokemon cards in her hand. Opposite her in one of the chairs sat a rather scruffy man in a beige trenchcoat, also holding Pokemon cards.

Ah, yes, that was where he knew the name from. Byrne crossed his arms, frowning as he recalled the detective and his egregious lateness to their meeting.

The movement must have finally caught his attention, because Gumshoe looked up, immediately freezing, eyes wide. He moved to salute, cards flying everywhere. A fraction of a second after he began that motion, he also scrambled to stand, tripping over the wheel of the chair. “S-Sir! Mr. Badd, M-Mr. Faraday!” He glanced frantically between them. “Kay is all safe and accounted for, so I’ll, uh...get back to work?” As the sentence trailed up into a question, he stared firmly towards Badd. When he nodded, Gumshoe left at a speed just slow enough not to be called running.

Byrne looked over from the closing door to Badd, who was shaking his head. He shot him a ‘we’ll discuss this later’ look before turning to meet his daughter.

She’d been watching with the ghost of a frown, but it quickly turning into a beaming smile. “Hi, Daddy!” Hopping down, she rushed over to hug him, gently (the first couple times, especially their reunion in the hospital, she’d gone a little too enthusiastic, but now was remembering herself pretty well).

“Hey kiddo.” He ruffled her hair, reminding himself not to lean over. Tension he hadn’t even realized he was holding released, and he hummed softly. “How was school?”

“The fire alarm went off during lunch, so I barely had any time to talk to Seb today.” She made a face. “But other than that it was okay, I guess. Are you doing ok?”

The persistent ache was mostly ignorable, unless he moved wrong. The main problem was the itch of healing. “About the same as this morning. The doctor says I’ll be almost done healing in a week, though, so then I should be able to start doing more again.”

She pressed her face against his side. “Does that mean you won’t be home a lot again?”

He sighed. “Yes, I’m going back to work. But,” he nudged her to look up at him, “I promised to stop working evenings or nights, remember?”

“Yeah.” She grinned. “And Uncle Badd promised to yell at you if you try.”

A laugh escaped him. He couldn’t even bring himself to pretend to be mad as he looked to Badd. He’d promised the same back – and besides, it wasn’t as though they were capable of acting as the Yatagarasu anymore anyway.

That didn’t stop Badd from giving him a meaningful look as a reminder. “Do you need...a ride home?”

He smiled, half exasperated, half fond. “No, I have a taxi set up already.” When Badd nodded, he took Kay’s hand and headed out.

---

As they were getting inside the house, Kay looked up at him, then away. After a moment, she said, “Hey Daddy, why were you acting so weird around Gummy earlier?”

He paused halfway through turning the key in the lock. “...Gummy?”

“Yeah. Detective Gumshoe.” She was giving the same concerned frown as when she’d watched the detective leave.

The nickname gave him a tug of unease, but then again Kay had always been extraordinarily quick to get along with people, so he let that point go for now. “It caught me by surprise. I’ve only met him briefly, so seeing you alone with him…” Reaching over, he put a hand on her shoulder.

“Yeah,” she said, and nudged him to open the door. “But if he wasn’t ok, I would have gone back with Ms. Angel and found one of the other detectives.” She was quiet as she took off her sneakers. When she stood up, she put her hands on her hips. “Badd’s been teaching him for a while, and he said we can trust him. And he’s been friends with Ms. Angel for like, forever.” In a smaller voice she added, “And he’s really nice.”

Byrne huffed. To cover it up, he shook his head. “He’d better be. Now, did you actually finish all of your homework?”

“Yes,” she said, but after he kept watching her with gentle skepticism, she crumbled. “Can I have a snack first?”

“Badd will be here in less than two hours, and we’re having dinner then.”

“But I’m hungry now.”

He sighed. “Get started on your work, and I’ll bring you something small.”

“Yes!” She tore off.

Once she was out of sight, he let himself slump, running a hand through his hair. He still wasn’t happy with the situation, but the frustration that had been simmering in him was mostly abated, and the remainder wasn’t anything for her to be bothered about.

---

He’d just put Kay to bed (eventually she’d go back to tapering into being too old for it, but for now it seemed they were both still a little too shaken), and he came down the stairs to the living room, running into Badd.

Silently, he gestured for them to sit on the couch. As they did, he looked away, gathering his thoughts. “I’m sorry about earlier,” he said a moment later.

Before he could go further, Byrne lightly placed a hand on his shoulder. “Kay told me a bit. That he was one of the new detectives you’ve been training.” From what Badd had been mentioning, it had started shortly after his getting stabbed, which was plenty long enough a time frame to evaluate someone. “That you’ve decided he can be trusted.”

“And you don’t believe me.”

He sat forward abruptly. Grabbed at his chest when it ached like the world’s worst bruise. After a couple seconds, he steadied himself enough to shrug off Badd’s arm and look directly at him. “I didn’t-” He stopped, realizing that even if that wasn’t how he’d been thinking about it, that was what his remark had meant. “...It’s just hard to reconcile that with-”

“With the piss-poor first impression he gave you?”

That dragged a dry laugh out of him. “Yes. I can tell he’s hardly about to choose to become one of Debeste’s cronies or whatever, but carelessness will fuck us over just as badly.”

Badd was silent for a while. Then, “I can’t exactly say he’s the most competent guy. You’re right, and I don’t plan on giving him anything too big. But his heart’s in the right place, and he cares enough that I think he’s worth the hassle.”

“If you say so,” Byrne murmured, leaning away. “I’m still upset with you.”

“About?” Badd said flatly.

“I understand why you decided to let him watch Kay. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t tell me about it. You knew I would want to know as soon as it started happening, and you sure as hell knew I would find out eventually.”

He’d stiffened as soon as Byrne’s voice took an edge. When he finished, he closed his eyes, sighing heavily. “I don’t have a good answer. When it first happened, I- I knew you weren’t going to be happy about it, and you were still doing pretty rough in your recovery. ...I didn’t want to give you more stress.”

With an unsteady inhale, he tried to stifle the anger that flickered up. It felt like he was getting more energy in the moment, but he knew it would drain him after. He was exhausted enough already. “We’ve been over this, Tyrell. I’m not made of glass.”

“...I know.” He looked just as pained as Byrne felt. “I’m sorry.”

And that was just the thing, wasn’t it. They both knew the conversation that could follow, since they’d had many variants of it over the past few weeks, so what was the point in keeping on when both had said the parts that mattered? It didn’t extinguish his being upset, though, and he muttered as much as he laid out more comfortably on the couch.

Badd nodded in understanding, and switched on the tv.

---

Tyrell had been underestimating his coworkers’ response, unfortunately. Right as Byrne was unlocking his office, he was notified that he was needed in the Chief Prosecutor’s office. At first it seemed to just be an exchange of paperwork, but when he took the forms, Debeste didn’t let go.

“Y’know, it really is a shame, what happened. After all, you spent what, three years, trying to find the Yatagarasu? And she was under your nose this whole time.” He made a sympathetic tut, but did nothing to hide the grin on his face. “It’s good to see you back. After letting her trick you and get away like that, a different prosecutor would have resigned. But you’re nothing if not stubborn, Faraday, I’ll give you that.”

“Thank you, sir.” They both knew the threat behind the words, but one of them had to be the bigger person. Besides, out of all the people’s buttons he could push, the Chief was the only one where it felt like any one could be a self-destruct switch in disguise. “Was there anything else?”

“No,” he said, dropping the hint of fake sweetness to something merely bored.

But as Byrne strode back across the room, it came back full force. “Oh, of course, I almost forgot. How is that little girl of yours? I heard she was there for part of the...incident, and I know those things can be quite upsetting.”

Ice in his stomach, Byrne willed himself not to react, grateful he wasn’t facing him. “She’s fine.”

“Good. Good.”

He’d had all of ten minutes to himself after that before he’d been drawn into a seemingly endless parade of meetings. Questioning him on the events of that day despite him covering it over and over and then some with the actual investigation team. Discussions of the new state of the Yatagarasu case, which while practical in name, mainly amounted to a contest over who could heap the most implications of failure on him, sprinkled with more expressions of fake concern. It got to the point that when on day two von Karma stopped in the hallway to call him an imbecile and a fool for several minutes straight, Byrne actually walked away feeling better.

By Thursday the only thing that kept him from screaming was the news that he’d finally been assigned a case (and with Badd, thank everything). Normally he left Badd alone on the investigation part unless he was specifically asked for, but since the alternative was more time in the Prosecutor’s building (even if he could close himself in his office under the premise of working), he wasted no time in showing up.

He found Badd on the large back patio of the event venue. “Afternoon, detective.” Sticking his hands in his pockets, he stretched, inhaling deeply. “Lovely place, isn’t it?”

Badd watched him for a moment, impassive. “It’s a murder scene...Faraday.”

“Oh come on, it’s just the two of use, right?”

“Yeah,” he said, voice turning up just at the end.

“Exactly. Besides, I’ve probably said worse with company.” He definitely had, he thought, turning around. “I know I’ve said this so many times already, but I’m sick to death of the office already. It’s going to be nice to finally do some real work, with someone whose company I can stand.”

“Yeah, about...that. I have-”

“Mr. Badd! I got all the stuff you asked-” Detective Gumshoe barreled through the door, skidding to a half barely an inch from slamming into Byrne. “Oh, geez, sorry about that pal, I- Aah! Mr. Faraday, sir!” He snapped to attention, pressing his face into an attempt at seriousness.

“Yes, well.” Taking a breath to steady his heartbeat, he stepped back, hands going back in his pockets. “Next time, be more careful about watching where you’re going.”

“Yes, sir!”

It took a considerable amount of effort not to sigh. He turned to Badd with a look of ‘what the hell?’

“Like I was about to...explain,” he said, a hint of strain to his voice, “Detective Gumshoe is going to be working alongside me on...this case, as part of his training.” Directing his attention to Gumshoe, he added, “It depends on the prosecutor...how much they’ll show up at the investigation, to supervise or direct things. You have to be able to work independently...being in charge of everything, and under orders.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gumshoe nod attentively, posture otherwise still rigid.

“So, let’s see...what you got.”

He hesitated for a second, wavering between them as for who to give it to until Badd held out a hand.

Byrne stepped over to Badd’s other side to watch as they reviewed the documents. There was a map of the venue grounds, a list of all the guests and employees who had been present, some abbreviated statements, and the autopsy. The wounds were indeed consistent with blunt-force trauma you’d expect from a serving platter, Gumshoe explained, but there’d been something off with his blood, so they were waiting on those tests to see if there was anything suspicious in that.

As he finished his report, he glanced over to Byrne. “Uh, if I may, sir, it’s good to have you back. I know everyone was really worried for a while, so I’m glad to see you’re healthy and healed!”

Yeah, of course you are, he thought, digging his nails into his palms. “Thank you,” he said, curtly. Then, “I’m going to do a walk-through,” and he strode off.

It was a large building, which gave him plenty of time to steady himself as he walked around. Conveniently, it also allowed for the forensics team to arrive for a sweep of a room they hadn’t thought relevant previously. They served as a good buffer as he returned to actually consider the case.

He wouldn’t say he spent the afternoon avoiding Gumshoe, but he also didn’t linger near him unless it was necessary. After a while, he noticed that he tended to follow Badd around. That made his not-avoidance simpler, at the cost of not being able to talk to Badd.

For the most part, at least. Later on, he noticed Badd instructing the other detective off to check on something, and made his way over.

“...and then make sure you get...the seating chart for the reception.” Badd held himself at ease as he talked, tone a firmer version of how he was with the likes of Marshall or Starr.

Gumshoe nodded with earnest enthusiasm. “You got it, pops!”

Once he’d turned and left, Byrne sidled up next to Badd, scrunching his eyebrows in a ‘what was that about?’ look.

He shrugged, the picture of tired indifference. Or he would be, if the almost-smile in his eyes didn’t betray him.

He chose not to comment on it. Instead, he dove into the particulars of the case. The suspect pool was low, but there’d been so much interpersonal drama within the wedding party and tension between them and the staff that untangling everything was a chore. With Badd, though, most anything could be tolerable, and Byrne only realized how badly he’d lost track of time when he noticed, out of the corner of his eye, Gumshoe hanging back in the doorway. He stopped halfway through a sentence. “Something the matter, detective?” he called.

Flinching, he swung to face them. “No, sir! Sorry, sir, I just didn’t want to interrupt, so I tried to be somewhere I could see you but not look like I was trying to eavesdrop or anything. Because I wasn’t!”

To keep himself from a knee-jerk reaction, Byrne took a long inhale. “I see.” Then he glanced at Badd with a look of ‘you deal with it’ and, as he stepped forward, swept off to an adjacent room to check on something.

That wasn’t too long before they were due to be done for the day, so after a couple minutes he made his way back over.

Badd was the only one there, going over his papers at one of the tables.

He walked to him, and leaned over his shoulder. Considering their height difference, it wasn’t something Byrne normally got to do.

Other than shuffling things around so he could see as well, he didn’t react. “Wasn’t much else...to do, so I sent him home.”

“Mm.” That was good, considering how tired he was, he thought, resting a bit more of his weight against Badd. All he had to do now was figure out what and how he was going to argue in court, and everything else was tomorrow’s problem.

---

When he arrived at the courthouse the next morning, both detectives were already in the lobby. He paused in the doorway as the low murmur of Badd’s voice became comprehensible, realizing he was giving the other detective a pep talk. Ducking back into the hallway, he rested against the wall.

When Kay had heard about Gumshoe working the case with them, she’d asked to come along. They’d both said no. She’d missed enough school already for this early in the year, and she didn’t have to be there. Besides, even if there was no reason to think that anything would happen, with it being Byrne’s first trial, he and Badd were a little jumpy.

He knew he was probably being petty, but he couldn’t help the twinge of annoyance over how close Kay and Tyrell were with the detective, considering...how he was.

The background of Badd’s voice had disappeared, so he walked back around.

Badd looked his way as soon as he entered – he’d probably noticed him the first time – and nodded. Then for Gumshoe’s benefit since his back was turned, he said, “Morning, Faraday.”

“Badd.” As the other turned, “Detective Gumshoe.”

“Uh, good morning, sir!” He lifted his arm as if to salute, but stopped himself, simply sitting up properly. “Everything’s ready for the trial.”

“Mm.” Byrne walked over to the couch Badd was on, leaning with his hands on its back. “And you have all the evidence files?” Badd’s insistence that Gumshoe be the one responsible for them felt like when Kay was little and wanted to help him rewiring the kitchen, so he’d given her a pile of screws and nails to sort, but he let it go. Ultimately it was Badd’s decision and responsibility.

“Uh. Yeah!”

It was all he could do to keep his expression flat as the detective started emptying his coat pockets, narrating what he was taking out as he went. He must have missed whatever it was that endeared this man to the others, but he supposed he would try to be patient with him at least, for their sakes.

---

“...and he confused the head chef with the bride’s mother!” Byrne waved his arms as he paced the living room, as if the whirlwind of motion would be enough to put a dent in his furious energy. “It was an embarrassment to the capabilities of everyone on our side, and frankly insulting if taken as a reflection on my teaching. I’d think he was doing it on purpose – for whatever reason – if he wasn’t so blatantly sincere about all of it!”

“...Are you done?” Badd had been watching him rant from the couch, and he asked calmly, patiently, but with just the edge of tiredness in his voice.

While he didn’t have anything else to say, he didn’t feel anywhere near done. Letting out an incoherent noise, he threw his arms down and continued pacing.

“Faraday.”

He was going to have to endure another day of this nonsense tomorrow, and if things kept going like they had been, it would definitely end up a three-day trial. Was this on purpose? Another shot at trying to get rid of him from the office?

“Byrne.”

He flinched away from Badd’s touch, hissing.

Badd let him go, but didn’t back away any. “Sit down, Byrne,” he sighed. “Please.”

He glared him down for a while, but Badd knew how most anything he could say would set him off at this point, so he just stared back. Finally, Byrne crumbled. Huffing, he dropped onto the couch with more force than necessary, and, still frowning heavily, curled his legs across Badd’s lap when he sat next to him. “I’m not wrong.”

“You’re not wrong to be frustrated,” he said sternly as he pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over them. “Gumshoe’s heart’s in the right place, but he’s not always the brightest.”

Since it was just the two of them, he rolled his eyes.

“He’d be competent enough under the right circumstances; it’s a matter of figuring out how that works. I just haven’t quite gotten there.”

“Hm.” His emotions still roiled within him, but the combination of warmth, the weight on him, and the way Badd was slowly rubbing circles on his shoulder was gradually calming them.

After a few minutes, Badd took a slow, deep breath. “And...I don’t expect you to be friends, but you could stand to be less hard on the guy.”

Annoyance spiked in him for a second, resting back to just slightly higher than before. “I wasn’t. You’ve seen what I’m like when I’m giving someone a hard time.” And then, because he was apparently still more worked up than he’d thought, “Why do you care all of the sudden? You didn’t say anything after the first time we met him, and then I was actually upset.” He still would’ve argued with Badd over it, but at least it would’ve made sense. This time, he’d been so careful not to allow a hint of anger to lash out. “How did he get you and Kay so invested in him?”

Byrne had expected an even-tone explanation on how the other detective had slowly grown on him during the training process, maybe even a nice story about him getting along unexpectedly well with Kay. What he hadn’t expected was for Badd to freeze for a moment, something like guilt flashing through his eyes.

“What?”

“You’re not...going to like it.”

Of course not. He crossed his arms and waited.

Badd looked at him, soft, wary. “Let me finish before you say anything.” When Byrne nodded minutely, he continued. “Gumshoe was there when- the day Yew attacked you. We thought he did it, for a while, after we figured out that you and Rell attacking each other was staged. But that was only because he was lying about what he’d been doing.” Fondness crept into his tone. “He was talking to Kay, and didn’t want her to get in trouble.” He shot Byrne a warning look as he’d started to open his mouth. “It wasn’t anything serious. I already talked to her about it.”

He could live with that. Even though Tyrell was generally more lenient with Kay, he never really contradicted Byrne, except in a couple very rare instances, and all of those were with genuine reason. As for the overall situation...he could see how that would win Badd over. Even he had to grudgingly admit it improved his opinion. Still not happy, but if anything that was on him for letting Kay wander the courthouse alone. Badd had made it sound much worse.

“...And then when I got shot, Gumshoe was the one watching her until they got done fixing me up.”

“You what.”

“Byrne,” he said warningly

“No! What were you think-”

He put his hand over Byrne’s mouth. “Shut up and let me finish.”

Out of old sibling instinct, he licked his palm. When he didn’t react, he simply glowered at him.

Badd watched him for a moment, still. Then he growled, “I was thinking, that I had just gotten shot, and you were dying, as far as I knew. I was scared-” his voice almost broke on the last word “and I didn’t have the luxury of choice.” Slowly, he moved his hand away from Byrne’s face, letting it drop onto his leg. “Gumshoe at least had shown a willingness to protect her already.”

The pressure that had been built so high in him sunk, leaving him dizzy and empty. The only part of him that felt real and not lost, floaty, was the spot where Badd was touching him. Trembling, he placed his hand over his. “I’m sorry.” There wasn’t anything else to say about this that they hadn’t already talked over in the more immediate aftermath, so he simply left space for the emotions, both of them sitting together silently.

After a while, Byrne squeezed his hand, catching his eye. “Are you alright?”

He nodded.

“Ok. I still- I get why that all happened. I don’t like it, but I guess that’s my problem. But what did you mean when you said I was being too hard on him? I thought I was doing a perfectly good job of keeping my emotions in check.”

“Yeah, and you went around the other side with it, to the point where you’re acting like any of the other prosecutors in the office.”

The comparison made him flinch. “What do you…?”

Badd frowned at him wearily. “I mean the part where you’re nothing but sharp and cold at him, like you resent him for existing but don’t care enough to do anything about it. He’s terrified of you, Byrne.” At his surprise, he shook his head. “Thought you would have noticed how jumpy he was at least. I was...a little worried myself. I’ve never seen you get like that.” His voice softened, and he looked down for a moment before resuming. “But he’s...he doesn’t know how to deal with it and it’s messing with his head. This morning he told me he showed up an hour before we were supposed to start to make sure he got everything right.”

“Oh,” was all he could breathe out, mind still scrambling to process.

Nodding, he shifted to let Byrne lean against him, throwing his arm over the back of the couch behind him. He didn’t say anything else. He’d made his point; the rest was up to Byrne.

He took a few deep breaths, and started to think.

---

“Good morning, detective.”

Gumshoe, predictably, startled a bit. Byrne hadn’t intended to sneak up on him, but he’d been so caught up in though that it was impossible not to. “Good morning, sir!”

Now that he was looking, it was impossible to miss the nerves brightening his voice, locking his body at attention. He kept the sigh internal. “You can relax, detective.”

“Yes, sir!” He didn’t.

“I wanted to talk to you about what happened yesterday,” he said, deciding not to push it.

At that, he crumpled. “Yeah...I’m real sorry about that, sir.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he mumbled,” I really thought I’d gotten everything memorized, too.”

“Gumshoe,” he said, trying to put as much warmth in his voice as he could while still sounding genuine, “will you sit, please?”

He hesitated, but after Byrne sat in a chair, he sat right in the middle of the couch, hands wringing in his lap.

Now for the hard part. He resisted the urge to cross his arms, keeping his body language as open as possible. “I’m going to be perfectly honest with you, detective. I’ve had...some doubts about your capabilities, since our first encounter. And I was disappointed in your performance yesterday. However. That doesn’t excuse my behavior towards you. I was unprofessional and rude, and for that I apologize.”

Gumshoe had been watching him with increasing confusion and surprise and now stared, mouth open eyes barely squinted. A few seconds later, he blinked and shook his head. “Oh, that’s not- uh, I mean, I...uh.” He looked down at where one hand was picking at a loose thread. “Thank you?”

“Yes, well…” He did cross his arms now, the urge to fidget prickling at him. Nothing particularly intelligent came to mind to add, so he gave up. “I’m going to see if Detective Badd has arrived.”

He was already here, Byrne knew. They’d arrived at the same time, and Badd had wordlessly taken up a spot near the lobby door, nodding to him as he pushed it open. But getting up to ‘check’ let him exit the situation, especially since otherwise Badd wouldn’t be coming in until the time they absolutely needed to be getting ready for the trial. He closed the door gently behind him, and practically fell against the wall next to Badd with a long haggard sigh.

“That...terrible?”

“I don’t know,” he groaned, rubbing his temples. “I still don’t know how to deal with him.”

“But you said...your piece?”

“Mm.” Then, he reached subtly over towards the pocket he knew Badd kept extra lollipops in.

Without looking, he slapped his hand away. “I can work...with that.” As he walked to the door, he pressed a lollipop into Byrne’s hand. Root beer.

---

Gumshoe didn’t suddenly transform into a stellar detective, but he was certainly better. Byrne wasn’t sure if it was his apology making him less nervous or the fact that he and Badd had given him a crash reminder course on how to talk on the stand, but he wasn’t going to be choosy.

It had cleared his head, too, since an hour into the trial he realized there was no way the wedding planner, the current accused, could have done it. Fortunately, the defense attorney was competent enough that they reached the (correct) verdict by early afternoon.

As they got out, Gumshoe had started apologizing, seemingly because he thought he’d lost them the case.

“No, detective. In this case, the defense was correct.” And then he’d ended up having to explain the last third of the day’s trial. “You were there.”

“Yeah.” He hung his head. “But I was so nervous about what I was doing, I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

He sighed. One thing at a time, he supposed.

“So...now what?” Gumshoe looked from him to Badd, who had just caught up to them.

“One of the groom’s parents,” Badd said, unwrapping a new lollipop.

Byrne nodded. “They both clearly resented the victim for encouraging their son to break up with his old girlfriend, and our reports of their movements during the night are spotty.”

“And all the catering staff mentioned how they both...walked into the kitchen...to complain about the food. Even if the platter wasn’t used that day, they could still have gotten access to it.”

Gumshoe stared at them openly. “Whoa. How did you do that?”

“What, figuring that out?”

“Well, yeah, but- I never saw you talk to each other, so how did you get the same answer?”

They looked at each other and shrugged. “We’ve worked together for a long time,” Byrne said.

“Oh.” His puzzled frown only partially dissipated. “So, now what?”

“We start asking some...new questions while Faraday does the trial paperwork, and then...we meet up to figure out a new plan of attack.”

It was practical, but, more importantly, gave Byrne a break from Gumshoe. He nodded, and headed off, letting Badd handle whatever other question had started brewing in the other detective.

---

“...we understand that they don’t want to reschedule the honeymoon. We’re working as quickly as we can,” Byrne said to the officer as evenly as he could. Despite being quite sure of the culprit now, the past few days had been such a series of problems that they’d barely gotten anywhere. A mix-up at the forensics lab, several lengthy arguments with the wedding party, and today, the photographer’s camera had gotten dropped down a few concrete stairs into a puddle. And of course she didn’t have any kind of backups, so he was going to have to find time to try and salvage that, or they’d be down some potentially crucial evidence.

He’d just turned to the forensic officer when there was an “uh, Mr. Faraday?”

“In a moment, Detective Gumshoe,” he said with strained politeness as he tried to read the scribbly lab tech handwriting. They knew there had been something in the victim’s system, but it hadn’t been anything obvious, and since neither chemistry or biology was his science, deciphering these notes gave him headaches at the best of times.

“Excuse me, sir.” It was one of the secretaries from the Prosecutor’s Office, who barely waited for him to turn his head before continuing. “The Chief Prosecutor needs to speak with you about your case from last month.”

“The Chief Prosecutor can-” he disguised cutting off his instinctual reply with a cough. Forcing the tension out, he said, “The Chief Prosecutor is going to have to wait a moment.” He looked at the report again. If he was reading it right, they’d at least figured out it was something plant-based, but-

“Mr. Faraday?”

“What?” he snapped. He regretted it instantly as everyone flinched. “I’m sorry, Detective,” he said, politeness stretched over tension, “unless your question is urgent, please go bother Badd about it.”

“Oh, it’s not a question. I, uh. I fixed the camera.”

That knocked the swirl of thoughts out of his head. “I beg your pardon?” he asked on autopilot.

“Yeah.” He retrieved the device from one of his coat pockets. The viewing screen was still cracked, but it was clean and significantly less dented on the side. A press of a button and it powered to life. “I didn’t have the stuff to fix the screen,” Gumshoe explained as he handed it to Byrne, who took it automatically, “so we’re still going to have to pay her for breaking it, but it connects to a computer just fine!”

Sure enough, he could cycle through the features and the album well enough, just not with much visibility. “This is- How did you do this?” He hadn’t thought it would be unsalvageable, but that was for himself. It had barely been a few hours.

Under the staring, Gumshoe turned his head to the side, fidgeting with his collar. “Well, I drop my phone in water all the time, and this was way easier to take apart to dry out. Then I talked to one of the guys in IT – he was real nice – and he let me borrow some of his tools, and…” He shrugged. When Byrne didn’t say anything for a moment, he shrunk a bit more. “Did I mess up, sir?”

He shook his head. “No.” Words came slowly as he dragged himself out of shock. “Next time, ask permission before you tinker with evidence like that, but this is...very good.” Then, genuinely, “Thank you, detective.”

Now it was his turn to stare, although Byrne didn’t think he’d been so wide-eyed. “Wow, really? I mean, thank you, Mr. Faraday.”

He couldn’t help a tiny smile. “You’re welcome. Now, if you can keep being useful,” Byrne handed him back the camera, “get all the pictures from the day, and start going through them with Badd.”

Gumshoe accepted the camera with reverent care. “Yes, sir!” He saluted, the intense energy behind it coming not from nerves this time, but from brimming over with excitement.

Byrne nodded and waved him off. Well, that was one considerable weight off his shoulders. He was still looking forward to when this case was over, but in the meantime, between his eagerness to be helpful and surprising adeptness in multiple areas, it seemed Badd had been right about Gumshoe having potential after all.

#aaprosecutorweek2021 #ace attorney #Byrne Faraday #Detective Gumshoe #Tyrell Badd #Kay Faraday #aai2 spoilers #vaguely. for bastard man inclusion because that little scene compelled me #I wasn't sure how I felt about this one this morning but I'm just off my editing reread and actually this is hype #an aquila original #fanfiction #my writing #every prosecutor is a little bit of a bastard and this is byrne being the less fun version of his bastard energy #reminisn't au

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sevlgi · 4 years

Text

believe

requested: no

group: blackpink

pairing: jisoo x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contents: guardian angel!jisoo, near death instances, unlucky reader. [22/33].

warnings: none

synopsis: You’ve never believed in guardian angels, but that just might change when you’re saved from certain death 3 times in one week.

a/n: idk if I’ve ever seen anyone do a similar au... tell me if you have! also i’m actually hella proud of this one lmao

word count: 1.8k

Do guardian angels exist?

Well, that’s a subjective question, and there really isn’t a yes or no answer... But if yours does, they’re doing the shittiest job of the century.

The amount of times you’ve been hurt in the past, both physically and emotionally, is stupidly high. You’ve always had an aptitude for getting injured, stories of broken bones and gashes making up basically half of your entire life. Your friends and family pride themselves on having a fully loaded arsenal of embarrassing tales, practically making it a rite of passage to visit the hospital with you. And don’t even mention the heartbreaks- those just seem to follow you wherever you go.

When you move to a different city for what must be the 10th time, you vow that it’s going to be different, no matter how obvious it is that it won’t. You vow that there aren’t going to be any incidents that land you in the hospital, nor any relationships that just end in chaos.

Suffice to say, all of that goes haywire on your first day in town.

Without a car to drive you to work or any friends to hitchhike off of, you take the subway, line #224 to Solace Building. There just so happens to be a new girl group song you’re obsessed with, blasting on the highest possible volume in your earbuds, when you’re shoved from the back right into the subway tracks. “Fu-”

Time slows down as you start to fall, the dusty railways coming too close to your face for comfort before a warm hand wraps around yours, the socket of your arm straining to carry your entire weight as you’re jerked back sharply.

You collide with a warm body, soft curves lessening the impact and delicate, impossibly strong hands steadying you on either side of your waist. By all logic, you should’ve knocked your savior over, should be sprawled on the ground right now with dirty palms and a heat-flushed face. “Are you okay?”

When you step back sharply, you’re met with the sight of the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your life. Her heart-shaped smile and delicate features are framed with cascading brown hair, and she has ethereally flawless porcelain skin. She’s the kind of beautiful that makes the plainest outfit look designer, that could make you believe sea glass to be pure diamond. “Uh. Y-yeah. I’m good.”

“I’m glad,” she chuckles, smiling even wider and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. Maybe she doesn’t realize the effect she has on you, humming as she dusts something invisible off your bag. “You should be more careful, Y/N, wouldn’t want someone as pretty as you being killed by a train.”

If it was anyone else, the words would sound creepy, especially with the added factor of the girl knowing your name. “How-- how do you know who I am?”

She juts her lips at the card hanging off your bag, your name written in big, bold letters. “Nametag. Y/N Y/L/N, employee in Solace Building?”

To hide the heat in your cheeks, you look to the floor and stutter out, “Well. Since you know my name, uh, isn’t it fitting that I know yours?”

It’s not nearly as smooth as you’d like it to be-- usually, the natural flirt in you would’ve made an appearance-- but the petite brunette extends a hand, tipped with gentle pink nails. “Jisoo. Kim Jisoo, if that’s helpful at all.”

Your next words are interrupted by your train arriving; when Jisoo doesn’t follow you on, you turn to look at her with your eyebrow quirked. “Are you...?”

“Not my train,” she smiles, shaking her head, even though it’s the only one arriving for hours where she stands. “Good to meet you, Y/N. Stay out of trouble!”

It’s an odd way to end a first meeting, but you don’t think much of it as you grab the nearest seat and pull out your phone to search her up. K-I-M J-I-S-O-O, you type, eyes scanning the screen fervently as the train starts.

Plenty of people show up-- after all, Kim Jisoo is not a rare name-- but none of the dozens of profiles you click through are the beautiful girl who saved your life. It’s too late when you look back out the window towards the station, the only thing you see becoming brick wall.

The next time you almost die, you’re just walking to the coffee shop across from your apartment.

The activity should be safe, considering that not many people in the area own cars. At first, you think you are safe, crossing the silent street with no problem and receiving your usual order just fine; you’re on your way back to your lonely little apartment when you hear the screeching of car tires on the road.

“Watch out!” someone screams, but you’re frozen in the middle of the crosswalk. You forget how there wasn’t a single car in the street when you were crossing as you stare at the grill coming close. The car doesn’t stop or slow down, and you scrunch your eyes shut with your arms raised up, just waiting for the impact.

It never comes. When you hesitantly open your eyes again, you find a familiar figure standing in front of you, the force of her hand having knocked your coffee onto your blouse. The car bumper is pressing into her bare leg, which is miraculously clean of a scratch or bruise, but she doesn’t seem to notice as she turns to grin at you.

“Sorry, I ruined your coffee,” Jisoo frowns, her hand coming up to almost touch the steaming stain on your chest. You stare at her mutely, following obediently when she grabs your wrist and pulls you back to the coffee shop. “Can I buy you another one?” she offers, plucking a napkin off a street-side table.

“Kim Jisoo?” you say disbelievingly, not even feeling it as she dabs the coffee away. “You again?”

“Me again,” she confirms, pulling some more napkins out of her purse with a smile on her face. “I hope you’re not disappointed; after all, I just saved you from dying. Again.”

“No, that’s not...” Taking a deep breath, you smile too, wrapping your fingers around her hand to gently brush her off. “It’s okay. I’m glad to see you, actually-- I searched for your profile to thank you, but I couldn’t find anything.”

Jisoo shrugs, opening the door to the coffee shop for you. “Oh, I’m not really on social media. If you wanted my number, you could’ve just asked.”

You laugh lightly, tossing the crushed cup in your hand into the trash. Of course it’s odd that she isn’t on social media in the 21st century-- with her face, you’d expect Jisoo to be a major influencer. “Then I’ll ask for it. Later.”

“Of course. Order what you want, I owe you one after all that,” she offers, plucking a couple loose 20 dollar bills out of her purse.

Once again, you’re faced with another weird habit of hers, but you order anyway and thank her after she pays. Before you can say anything else, though, she gets a text and frowns at her phone. “Oh, sorry, I have to go. Catch you next time?”

“Sure,” you answer, forgetting to tell her that she still forgot to give you her number. You stand dumbly on the sidewalk and watch her go, taking a deep breath and looking both ways before you set off towards your apartment for the second time that day.

Maybe next time?

The third, and hopefully last time, is the absolute weirdest of all.

You seem to have a thing for being knocked into ditches-- this time, a group of teenagers barrels into you while you’re walking by the side of the only river in your entire city. You open your mouth to tell them off, but before you can, an especially hard shove from an stocky little boy pushes you right into the water.

Luckily, the fall isn’t high, so you don’t hit the water with much force, but the boats cruising along and the recently terrible weather stir the current strong enough to pull you right under. In the icy water, you feel your fingers let go of the phone in your hand, your lungs slowly being crushed by the pressure of your surroundings.

It’s hard to tell how much time passes while you’re in the water. From what your doctors have told you, trauma is difficult to remember clearly for a while, but you vaguely feel hands linking in front of your chest and forearms bracing under your armpits to drag you out of the water.

The heat of the summer sun warms the stone under your back and you can hear whispers sounding around you as you flop onto the floor. Hands push hard on your breastbone, once, twice-

After maybe 30 pushes, fingers pinch your nose, and soft lips meet yours. It feels more like a kiss than CPR, no air really being blown into your mouth, but nonetheless, you feel water leaving your lungs, and you open your eyes in shock, coughing out loud.

To your (somewhat) shock, it’s the same girl hovering over you. Jisoo’s skirt is wet at her knees where she kneels beside you, her hands still hovering over your chest. She must’ve been the one giving CPR, then. Sitting up, you hack violently until most of the water’s out of your lungs, the other girl waving away all of the spectators. “How’re you feeling?” she asks, once you’re alone on the sidewalk.

Your hands move faster than your brain, pulling her forward by the nape of her neck until you kiss again, something about her tasting familiar in a way you can’t quite place. “Who are you?” you breathe once you’ve pulled away, searching her warm eyes for an answer.

She smiles again, handing you your miraculously dry phone instead of answering. It should be waterlogged and dead, but nothing seems to make sense when concered with Kim Jisoo. “How about you take me for dinner or something before asking the serious questions? Soup should be good to warm you up.”

Hand clasping in hers, you’re pulled to your feet with strength that doesn’t match her petite stature. You barely remember that you look like an almost-drowned rat, your lips purple with cold and your hair stringy with icy water. “Sure. Soup. But you need to answer me first.”

She exhales, hitching her bag higher up on her arm. “I’d say I’m your guardian angel, but you wouldn’t believe that, would you?”

“I wouldn’t,” you answer, eyes narrowing as you follow her down the street. “But maybe you can convince me. Over soup.”

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destielfanfic · 3 years

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My First Destiel Fic, vol.5

Thank you guys for sharing your memories! My First Destiel Fic is a nostalgic survey open to any destiel fan and has a simple goal - to celebrate fics that were our gateway into a wonderful world of destiel shipping. Thank you, fic writers, you are our heroes!

from @chamomilecas

hi! i joined this fandom in mid 2017, so just before season 12 came out! the first deancas fic i ever read was actually t&s (ik ik) but since it’s v.ooc imo id like to suggest the second and third fics i ever read!

shortskirts verse - twentysomething (on ao3) first hs/college au i read and tbh i don’t remember much apart from it being super sweet and well written!

waves - wormstaches (on ao3) i think everyone has heard of this au tbh and my god it is amazingly written! also features pan!cas in a lot of ugly sweaters (which i love sm and reminds me a lot of myself eheh) basically these fics made me addicted to the college au genre till this day lolol - as well as pan!cas representation !!

All fic titles link directly to the fic, when possible, we have added link to our review or submitted rec post.

Twist and Shout by gabriel & standbyme [NC-17, 97,500 word count, posted 2012] (our review)

What begins as a transforming love between Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak in the summer of 1965 quickly derails into something far more tumultuous when Dean is drafted in the Vietnam War. Though the two both voice their relationship is one where saying goodbye is never a real truth, their story becomes fraught with the tragedy of circumstance. In an era where homosexuality was especially vulnerable, Twist and Shout is the story of the love transcending time, returning over and over in its many forms, as faithful as the sea.

Shortskirts Verse by twentysomething [NC-17, 22,400 word count, posted 2011] (our review)

So, they're in high school, and then they're in college, and it's mostly not about Taylor Swift, except when it is.

Waves by wormstaches [M, 54,100 word count] (our review)

Dean Winchester is the average guy: football, college, kid brother, nice car, girls and beer; his life is black and white, that is until he meets Castiel Collins: pretentious, slutty, sweater-wearing genius, who won’t even take the time to look up at him from his obscure novel while he insults him. And then everything is shades of gray and Dean is drowning.

from @candy-gothic

My first fic was 300 Things by cautionzombies. I can't remember when I read that but im sure it's not that long since I only started reading fanfictions around 2013-2014. It was my gateway in the world of fanfictions. I started watching SPN around that time too. Such shame it's not in ao3 anymore (or is it?) bc i really want to reread it again.

300 Things by cautionzombies [NC-17, 76,500 word count] (our review) NOTE - the fic is indeed deleted from the hosting platforms by the author. This is our gentle reminder to always download your favorite fic and leave nice comments to the authors!

Dean’s life at twenty-four makes him feel like he’s forty–he works two jobs to help pay bills for his house and put his genius little brother through private school, and has spent six years (on and off, let’s be honest) working on his mechanical engineering degree at KU. With so much of his life devoted to his family, Dean has little time in his schedule for class and no time for social interaction. Then, while getting his classes together for the fall, he finds himself in a do-or-die situation: He must take his last literature class now, his spring already filled with those left for his major…except that none of the English classes will fit his schedule.

from @obsessedkuroi

So, hey, saw the request. I've sorta been hovering around the fandom since...maybe 2009? 2010? I know I caught up on the first 4/5 seasons in a blitz of a couple weekends of binging and crying during my college days, and then went sobbing to ffnet (ah, AO3, not yet around at the time) to find Destiel fics to comfort myself with. After all this time, Tripping by Hatteress is one fic I still come back to reread. That, and the little additions. It's one of the few fics I think did an insane amount of justice to Dean as he is in Canon, repressed emotions and all. A second one...I suppose, as Christmas has just passed, this short gem of emotion is perfect for the season. It's called Where The Sea and City Meet by RC_McLachlan and it still makes me tear up reading it.

If you ever want any more old school Destiel fics (like, back from 2008-2010, when I dived headfirst into the fandom) hit me up. I have an entire google doc filled with just Destiel recs I made for a friend eight years ago. Thanks for all the fic recs! I'm way out of the loop on Destiel fics these days, I dropped out of being an active member of the fandom some six years ago and just recently got dragged kicking and screaming back in (and rewatching the series from the beginning cause I'm a masochist)

Kuroi

Tripping by hatteress [NC-17, 49,000 word count, Tripping Verse has 6 works and 76,600 word count, posted 2012] (our review)

What do you do when the Universe itself seems to have decided you belong with your very stoic, very angelic, very MALE hunting companion? Dean’s about to find out.

Where the Sea and City Meet by RC_McLachlan [M, 3,000 word count, posted 2010]

Castiel risked his life by going back to 1982 to find Dean's Christmas gift, and all Dean got him was a coat.

If you enjoyed the fic, please drop by the archive (AO3) and let the author know with your comments and/or kudos! And if you found our recs useful, let us know by Liking and/or Reblogging our posts!

You can find all My First Destiel Fic posts under this tag!

#destiel #destielfanficnet #my first destiel fic #hey guys #these are all submissions we have so far #we are waiting for more!#chamomilecas #candy-gothic #obsessedkuroi

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verobatto · 3 years

Text

Destiel Chronicles

Vol. CXXV

It was a love story from the very beginning

Loudly In Love

(14x10/14x11/14x12)

Hello my friends! After Purgatory we have a cute and dummy sweet Dean-bean in love with Castiel. As we'll see int this meta summary.

You can find the links to my metas from these episodes following this links: X, X, X, X, X, X, X, X, X, X, X, X, and X.

There's something in my throat

At the beginning of episode 15x10 we can read a shop's named BERENS' KWICK TRAP.

This takes another symbology now, with the horrible ending of the show. In which we could say Berens settle a trap to the C*W and he gave us 15x18 Castiel's love confession anyway.

Before talking about Dean's mating tap dance, let's talk about Dean vomiting again. Because it's relevant again, due to the shitty ending and how C*W silenced him.

Throughout the whole season 15, we had vomits, gagging situations. And in this episode we had two important scenes related to this symbolism:

One was Dean literally vomiting, and the second was Dean datin: "I HAVE SOMETHING IN MY THROAT"

Gif credit @agusvedder

What had Dean stuck in his throat? Maybe the ILY TOO to Castiel that never happened. But writers gave it it's relevance by writing it like this.

Maybe they were trying to day we will never have it.

They silenced him, for real.

Baby Castiel and Color Symbolism

I wrote this in one of my metas...

Baby Sam was dressed with a yellow ascot. Accurate. And Baby Castiel was dressed in blue. Accurate too.

Bess was dressed, and pay attention to this..., She was in pink (happiness) green (Dean) and light blue (purity)... She said to Dean that Cas was looking at him with love. Right? The happiness and purity in Dean was telling him Castiel looks at him with love in his eyes! Now... Dean said Cas baby kept looking at him weird. And Sam (who knows) said JUST LIKE CAS DOES.

And then Castiel's eyes glowed and Dean said... I think he has something for you to Bess (symbolically representing Dean's happiness and purity) GOSH IT WAS PERFECT!

This is something too cute, because finally, they talked about the Destiel eye-love-making and the fan-service with some SAMMY KNOWS.

Gifset credit @subbydean

Another important reference was Garth. When he went to rescue the boys, Garth was playing Castiel's mirror. And when Garth breaks that lock (Just like Castiel will do in the incoming episode) But mostly because Dean's reaction to it was priceless!

DEAN: You're so strong! He's so strong!

This is, literally, what Dean thinks about Castiel everytime he's in BAMF mode.

Numbers

Just a brief travel through the repeated numbers in the narrative in this episode (you can find the extended version of this in the links I put in the top of this meta)

Basically, we had number 7, 5, 17 and 40 repeating in the dialogues and the visual narrative. Some examples of that are the following scenes...

The Beren' kwick trap had a poster naming "7 days per week", then this one...

Dean eating 7 pieces of cheese.

Biblically talking, number 7 is the perfect number, represents God and knowledge. And it talks about Chuck then, knowing Chuck is writing this. But it also is what it means KNOWLEDGE.

Now, number 5...

Also at Garth's house, the address said 75

In numerology talks about socialize, and self-knowledge in masculinity and sexuality... Hello Dean!

But number 5 also represents in Bible the grace God concedes to David to defeat Goliath, the giant, written on the first book of SAMUEL (yes, Samuel) chapter 17.

Gif credit @agusvedder

17 means HOPES,it's what TFW keeps alive go defeat Chuck.

Now, number 40...

GARTH: Yeah, better than I ever thought I’d get. I mean, hunting – I figured I’d be dead before I’m 40. You know, go out young and pretty. But now I’ve got a great wife, great kids. I guess...sometimes things work out.

Putting to a side these had been also Dean's old thoughts... writers really got me here...

40 years old, but 40 is a common biblical number that talks about self-knowledge and growth. It talks about CHANGES. So so accurate with Dean and that caterpillar/butterfly wall in episode 15x04.

I really thought back then we will have the huge change in Dean through his love confession to Castiel. I mean, we had a change in his own way to see himself, thanks to Castiel. Let's keep that as a consolation prize.

An ABO fic plus Mating Dance

This episode had an ABO fic hudden as it also had the learning lesson about MATING FOR LIFE.

The visual narrative and the dialogues pointed at it.

Garth hugging g Dean as he said: YOU SMELL GOOD, remember Garth is a werewolf, and he was smelling Dean's pheromones because this episode happened after Purgatory, Dean is facing the knowledge about his romantic love for the angel, and it shows.

The swan's statues in one of the rooms in Garth house. Swans are birds that mate for life, and males swans can mate with another males for life. Hello Destiel. (Also, the room where these statues were placed was color BLUE)

The tap dancing and the suggestive lyrics of 'Let's Misbehave' was perfectly settled as a mating dancing I'm which Dean invited Castiel (the lamp) to Misbehave with him. Showing us that there's not just sweet and innocent love in Dean's heart but also a passionate fire and a desire to make love with him. That's what the song says, and that's why Garth mentioned colonoscopy, as a medical tool to health control, because cavities are related to Colon Cancer.

The wolf puppy is back

And following the same topic about ABO, the scene in which Jack is back with his family was similar (if not the same) as a wolf pack behavior documental.

Dean checks on Jack's eyes and immediately after that he checks on his pack mate, Castiel, to see if Jack is Jack. Beautiful

Gifset credit @thelordoftherings

Bi!Dean and Tolstoy

There's more info in my links at the top, but let's see why Dean called himself "Tolstoy" in that bar in front of that greek goddess in episode 14x11.

Okay, we had the singer from 'Let's Misbehave' (Cole Porter) a queer man, and now we have Tolstoy, a bisexual man...

DEAN: I'm Tolstoy

So much love

I will only speak about this scene:

Gif credit @agusvedder

There's more analysis about the dialogue here related to the storyline about Chuck, Jack and TFW. But because these are the Destiel Chronicles, I know I have to talk about this particularly Destiel heart eyes scene.

Because Dean is loud, his eyes and his face, he is yelling how proud he feels about Castiel, but it also, the ways his eyes just lingered to him, full of love, it's perfect, and no one can tell me these are not two men in love.

Look at how Csstiel turns his face to him, with a small smile, trying to hide his joy for being praised by the man he loves and also for share this moment with him. And the feels are of an old married couple that still love each other so much.

I just wanted to finish this meta with this "Good Omens" like scene.

To Conclude:

Dean reaffirmed he is in love with Castiel, and he wants to spend his life with him, as a couple. He loves the angel romantically, and he also desires Castiel with passion.

We also had several confirmations of Bi!Dean and some fan service with Sammy knows.

Hope you like this meta, see you in the next one.

Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weird-dorky-little-d @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @authorsararayne @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @dizzypinwheel @horsez2002 @qanelyytha

@destielle @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @belacoded @madronasky @anon-non2 @cea1996 @lisafu02 @asphodelesauvage @deancasgirl777

If you want to be added or removed from this list, just let me know.

If you wanna read the previous metas from this season, here you have the links:

Vol. CXXI, CXXII, CXXIII, CXXIV.

#destiel #destiel chronicles #destiel meta #supernatural meta #season 15 meta

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belle-keys · 3 years

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I Love Matthew Fairchild aka Incoherent Thoughts about Chain of Iron (2021) by Cassandra Clare

I made one of these rant-rave reviews for SJM's book so check it out if you want, no pressure tho lmao.

Aight so I finished Chain of Iron last night and OMG I HAVE TO YELL like I loved it sooo much like yooo, I have a lot to say. I know the book is new so... beware for spoilers plebs.

Also context: I been reading the Shadowhunter books since I was 12 and I'm 19 now *insert dead emoji face* so yeah, I'm just so happy rn with where the Chronicles have come and the fact that they’re still ongoing *insert uwu face*. I remember when in like 2014-2015 or something when Cassandra Clare teased that Will and Tessa's kids' generation was gonna get a trilogy set in Edwardian London, loosely based on Great Expectations, and holy hell? I think that was perhaps one of the best days of my life considering how much I adore The Infernal Devices (that trilogy really changed the way I see YA literature... don't ask cus I won't shut up about it) (also yes I read TMI and loved it too but there's a “generation gap” between TMI and the other Shadowhunter books stylistically so don't ask me about that either cus I also won't shut up).

Anyway, shoo from here if you want a critical essay on Chain of Iron. I'm not providing that, this is just me raving here for the fun.

Listen... I want the bulk of this to just be two main things: The Matthew Situation, and then all the literary and judeo-christian meta aspects of it.

BUT I ALSO NEED TO TALK ABOUT EVERYTHING ELSE SO FRICK LET'S JUST START WITH THE OBVIOUS SHIT LIKE THE PLOT AND WHATEVER

Okay, the plot and writing and shit, let's get that out of the way:

The WHOLE Jack-the-Ripper-esque ambiance was just sooooo good man wow like I did not expect the book to take this cold turn but it worked so well. There was such a contrast between Jamie and Cordelia's warm little house and then the cold winter and the stabbings and shit and it felt like a nice little callback to the actual Ripper phenomenon that preceded them and a nod to the Whitechapel Fiend story from Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy.

Bitch OFC that whole thing with Wayland was a set-up like nawww that was too easy to spot and I get why Cordelia feels like shit about it.

Dawg Lucie was just the Among Us imposter here in that my girl was just venting and sneaking around with dead people and I was like nooooo girl run, don't deal with Fade this is a set-up THINK ABOUT JULES LUCIE THAT'S LIKE YO GREAT-GRANDSON *sobs* but yeah anyway my girl has death powers she gonna kill some bitches next book.

You see that confrontation between Lilith and Belial? MASTERPIECE DIALOGUE like this was the point within which I was just like "yo is this the book of Genesis or a YA Fantasy novel" like when Lilith said "I may have been cast out but I did not fall" like??????????????????? I YELLED she did not have to END Belial like that. What a bad bitch.

More on Lilith and Belial... "You, who brought nations into darkness? Shall I finally be able to tell the infernal realms you have gone mad, lost even the image of the Creator." HAHAHHAHAHA SHE SAID "YO BELIAL GO GET SOME THERAPY AND GET OFF MY ASS" LIKE??????

Ughhhh yasss Clare has improved writing diverse characters in this book compared to in The Dark Artifices in my opinion... I'm not gonna expand on it cus ain't nobody got time for that but like, I enjoyed how she wove Persian poetry and tales into the story and the way in which she writes Cordelia and Alistair. They're not caricatures of Persian people but rather multi-faceted beings who also happen to be Persian and I appreciate that. Also, Alistair and Thomas and Anna and Ariadne were just so fun and interesting to read as coupbles but also as individuals. She really higlighted diversity in a very natural manner. All I need is a hijabi character and I’ll die a happy woman lmao.

The level of META man like the references to Classics and art (I swear, she might have compared Matthew to angels out of Caravaggio AND Rosetti AND Boticelli paintings and I Am Living For It) and just all the quotes from holy books and shit omg I love it here like you really feel catapulted into the time period, she draws reference to external art and philosophy so well and I feel like she upped the notch on it in this book (didn’t know that was possible but it was the prose is BEAUTIFUL, archaic, but not pretentiously so). No, like the characters live in their OWN worlds of literature and art and history in the way we are living in THEIRS. They quote Wilde and Milton while we'll quote Clare. It's awesome.

This is an unusually structuralist take even from me but: I like the way the milieu social of the book, i.e., the high society Edwardian circles and their values, have a direct influence on the plot. James and Cordelia got married because society’s values essentially forced them to, not a demon. Cordelia abandons Jamie at the end of Iron because her shame as a woman in society and fear for her reputation made her, not a demon. Thomas and Alistair can't be together solely because of how Alistair tarnished the reputation of the Fairchilds and Lightwoods by using the horror of infidelity against them. Issues relating to marriage, gender roles, etc, stemming DIRECTLY from the time period rule the sequence of events to the same degree as the epic fantasy aspects (demons, Princes of Hell, the lore itself) do and I LOVE that dear God above.

OKAY THE GOOD SHIT LET US TALK ABOUT CHARACTERS AND SHIPS (N.B. but imma discuss Matthew and the Fairstairs situation separately below this portion):

Alistair's redemption arc: No, cus Alistair's redemption arc is honestly amazing. He really did change and it's not like his betterment as a person was linked to any one heroic deed but rather he simply decided he wanted to be better especially for his family and he decided to become a proper protective son, a caring brother, and an amiable friend. He fully owned up to his Malfoy tendencies and apologized without expecting forgiveness. He shows how he cares in the little ways and omg it's so sweet and tender. I really do want him to love himself now and be embraced by Matthew especially and the rest of the Thieves.

Dawg Lucie and Jesse are so funny to me like it's so hilarious how this girl fell in love with a whole ass ghost that no one else knows about like HHAHA. Are Lucie and Jesse my ult ship ever? Nah, but it's nothing to do with Clare, it's just that their relationship happened pretty quick and feels quite like something epicly romantic that Lucie herself would write. I just like slow burn and friends-to-lovers the most from Clare. To be honest part of me just wanted Lucie to not have a romantic arc all together but like, it's all good, I'm not complaining.

Okay Grace- like yooooooooooo I never hated her yunno. She has been abused and isolated all her life. It's not that she is a bad person, but rather that she does not know what being a person even entails. Can't even say she's a “doll” of a person cus she's never even been pampered like one by her family. I really started understanding her motivations since when they gave us her half-childhood with Jesse. I want better for her but cmon can she REALLY be saved???

GRACE X CHRISTOPHER *pretends to be shocked*... Okay, sometime in the middle of the Dark Artifices series some big brain put together a very thorough family tree of the families and like, it clearly showed that Grace and Christopher got married so like, lmfaooooo, I knew this was coming one way or another, but the journey to this ship is more important than the destination. Like in a way Christopher is such a cute baby lamb that it makes sense he'd end up being immune to her Grace-ness when he's just a cute little Einstein boiii. Like this is just so funny to me cus he's so oblivious to social conventions while she makes the milieu social her entire life so OFC it's gonna work. Like, this is such a worlds-colliding trope like just Give It To Me.

James and Grace - aw mannn Jamie just had me fricking wanting to hit a wall every two seconds cus like yooooooo every single time I think he and Cordelia are gonna stop being emotionally-constipated spouses, Jamie says some kinda shit like "omg me and Daisy are just friends uwu" like DO I NEED TO HIT YOU?????????? See I can't blame him for not slamming the door on Grace's face even tho he totes should- Jamie is so cerebral and kind that even if Grace wasn't using the enchantment on him, I think he would always be soft for her even if it isn't in a romantic way. There's just so much miscommunication cus like he said "Thank God" when she broke off the engagement with Charles and lowkey embraced her but it also wasn't his fault cus it wasn't even romantic BUT OFC IT LOOKED HORRIBLE TO CORDELIA like James literally never told the woman at least once that he loved her so OFC she thought she was back to square one with him dear God above what a mess. Not his fault, but she DID set down one rule for him: don’t cheat with Grace. And yeah even tho he hasn’t properly cheated, it must FEEL horrible to her cus she’s just been enduring the pain of their unrequeted love for so long :((

See imma just say it but if Cordelia thought that James didn't love Grace then she def would have confessed to him about her feelings right but like James, on the other hand, was delaying his own romantic confession cus he was BEING EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED and I can't even say the bracelet was solely to blame cus like my boi was just being so difficult omg I believe he should be lightly spanked by his three parents aka Will, Tessa and Jem *cries*.

Cordelia is such a MOM like she's so mature and stable and her self-preservation instinct? OFF THE CHARTS I love this woman like James definitely treated her well as a hubby but like I JUST WANTED HER TO HAVE CLOSURE ABOUT SOMETHING and boy oh boy she did get that closure she got it good but not from the person she expected in the LEAST *hehe* *pelican screeching*... like Lucie was being sus with the whole ghost business and James was being just, quite a case, dealing with Grace and Belial right and I don't blame them at all for their secrecy and shit but her FATHER DIED and her friends were hiding a lot from her so in a way she turned to Alistair for help but he could only do so much cus of his own pain (she couldn't even talk to her mom cus she's pregnant and she doesn't wanna stress her right) and then there was this emotional block between her and Jamie, Lucie was often absent and conspiring with the dead... the last person remaining was HIM (imma discuss this soon), but yeah my heart just went OUT to her cus she's tryna save herself and her family and she just doesn't know what to do. That's why I love the way her mom told her to stop holding herself back for others and live her own life. Like Cordelia grew on me so much cus in Gold she undoubtedly was a strange Elizabeth Bennet-wallflower hybrid and I... do not usually get attached to wallflowers but in Iron I feel like I finally understood that she was just tryna be unproblematic and self-preserving all along and nottt put her family and friends in a tough situation.... she reminds me of my mom personality-wise so yeah I’m totally rooting for her now that her *situation* in the past seems clearer.

Anna, Thomas and Matthew are such a SQUAD lmfaooooo like united in their gayness they'd be so unstoppable.

Will and Tessa are the most in-love of all the in-loves in this story and I respect that so much.

I lost a year to my life every time the romance between James and Cordelia got cockblocked. Like they were MARRIED and I thought they were gonna at least sleep next to each other at least once BUT NO James couldn't take a hint omg I'm actually gonna eat my fist and sob (but in retrospect, I think this serves a bigger purpose in terms of the narrative structure i.e. the interruption of all the spicy James and Cordelia action serves a bigger purpose which I think brings me to my next section, *exhale*)

Welcome to the Matthew Fairchild Enthusiast Club (this section is me talking out loud; it makes no sense):

bitch.

LISTEN TO ME LISTEN WELL I LOVE THIS BOY SO MUCH IMMA SCREAM I REALLY AM GONNA SCREAM MY FIST IS LITERALLY IN MY MOUTH *BACKFLIPS OFF THE ROOF WITH LANA DEL REY PLAYING*

Okay like where to BEGIN I think the Shadowhunter boy who I'm most attracted to is Julian while the one I love the most is Will but I think I see myself in Matthew the most. Like ever since that first story where the Thieves all met at the Academy then got expelled, I think that I just KNEW Matthew was destined to be epic. Plus the whole Wilde obsession? I’m no libertine myself but I just love his chaos and passion for life.

NO CUS HE'S SO WITTY AND SWEET AND EPIC AND YET SO SECRETIVE AND DEAR GOD ABOVE AHHHHH WILL HE SURPASS JULIAN FOR ME??? Ion even know but this is just sodjsgdwsdygyegydgef

Hear me out but I said after finishing Gold last March that I wanted this book to be Matthew's healing arc right so halfway into the book when I realized that we weren't getting all that good healing arcing I was confused just cus I thought it seemed natural to address all of his alcohol issues and sadness by now. LITTLE DID I KNOW CASSIE WAS SETTING UP A WHOLE OTHER ARC WITH HIM THAT I WOULD HAVE NEVER GUESSED WTH.

At first I thought Matthew didn't have feelings for anyone at all, and if he DID develop feelings unexpectedly, I fricking thought that maybe he's catching feelings for James, if anyone??? I mean, I did have some suspicions about Matthew from the get-go: like he's so secretive and as readers we think we know everything there is to know about him since we were all privy to the truth potion incident in his short story right BUT NO I GOT PLAYED AND I DESERVE IT SO BADDDDDD.

Listen I hadn't shipped him and Cordelia simply because I never thought it in the realm of possibility but it MAKES SENSE as a ship... think about it: he never says what he feels, he flirts with her like he does with EVERYONE, he is kind to her in the way he is with EVERYONE. Really, Matthew is shippable with everyone, doesn’t matter if they’re taken cus that’s just what his Matthewnes allows for ya feel. There is such a beautiful irony that CORDELIA herself did not see this coming. Even the little teasers and hints in Gold have only NOW started making sense to me likejhss. I just felt like the hints in book 1 did not indicate to me that Matthew really harbored real romantic feelings for Daisy. I thought he was upset that James and Cordelia were being fakes, not a developing CRUSH on the woman fgs.

Not to mention that you usually sense a ship building when the emotional connection or sexual tension between the characters is made clearer but to me their FRIENDSHIP grew right but it didn’t feel like Cordelia was thought that she liked him or he liked her so that means me and Cordelia are clowns *together* 😤

Okay I was lowkey having SUSPICIONS but I immediately shut them down right... like firstly when he took her to the White Horse in his car and she went OFF and OFF and off about how she felt free for the first time? I thought Cassie was just tryna develop Cordelia's self-liberation arc through Matthew there. Heck, I didn't even think ANYTHING of it when Matthew confession to Cordelia about the "truth potion" incident at all cus I was like they're FRIENDS??? BUT now it's adding up now...

See when they were at the inn place and he was telling her that she doesn't in the least seem like a 100 year-old married woman? I was like hmmmm he's so sweet but why did Cassie phrase it like that like??? When Cordelia later reiterated that she thought Matthew's flirting was “meaningless”?? I was like hmmm kinda SUS tho. And then when he and James had their fight over the way Jamie kissed Grace like again I thought he was just like? ion know? mad at James for it but I didn't think he was in LOVE with Cordelia??? So I immediately put aside my slight suspicions. The probability that he had a crush on James at that point seemed more likely to me.

BUT THEN it started hitting me that every time Matthew drank, even before he explained his issue with the truth potion, that Cordelia would note it, she would worry about him, she would think of her father which seemed so poetic to me, history repeating itself and all that but this time you can FIX it??? Yeah, but again I didn't think the L WORD would be involved man???

Now imma sound like a delulu shipper here but it just makes sense they would develop feelings logically- reason being that it definitely is possible based on the way Cassie set up the story, like there's a combination of little “friend things” that can turn this into a proper ship: Matthew rescues Cordelia in the ballroom when Grace captures James' attention in Gold. Cordelia sees her father in Matthew all the time but knows now she has a chance to be there for him in the way she couldn't have been there for Elias (classic “history repeats itself” trope, she doesn't want Matthew drinking in Paris like dhshghdfhdhch). Cordelia tastes freedom for the first time when driving with Matthew. Matthew caught James and Cordelia making out in the room and was pissed but not even HE properly knew why then??? Umm, when she thinks James is forreal cheating with Grace on her she subconsciously goes to Matthew??? I also found it funny just how every intimate marital moment between her and James got interrupted somehow. Like, it's as if the narrative is just a living force REFUSING to let James and Cordelia as a ship be consecrated. Heck, every time Matthew is scantily clothed Cordelia notes it. LITTLE CRUMBS I TELL YOU LITTLE CRUMBS.

I tell you when Cordelia showed up to Matthew's flat I thought they were gonna f*ck as friends but I got SOMETHING EVEN BETTER SOMEHOW

THEY ARE GOING TO PARIS LA BELLE EPOQUE PARIS THE PARIS OF DREAMS AND ART LIKE??? FRICKKKKK I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING AT ALLLL MAN? I deadass thought the story would be restrained to the UK but like it MAKES SENSE the trope subversion MAKES SENSE.

“In Paris, with you, I will not need to forget.” SHITTRGEGGGDG

BUT CORDELIA LOVES JAMES TOO LIKE I CAN'T DENY THAT... where are we GOING with this like Matthew wouldn't lie about his feelings and yet Cassie wouldn't give us Matthew and Cordelia crumbs to only end it in the next book immediately for her to just ditch him for James. I mean she was clearly holding back on fleshing out James and Cordelia as a ship for this but to WHAT END??? Daisy feels wild and free with Matthew and she feels warm at home warm with James. I can’t advocate for the sinking of ANY ship here.

Imma say what we're all thinking: Is she gonna give us a Will x Jem x Tessa type situation where Cordelia gets both of them cus I'm not strong enough for this but I also think it'd be really funny if James gets a surprise bi awakening in the next books and then we get POLY even tho this would never happen, it’s actually impossible, because of the whole parabatai thing.

Listen I ship Cordelia and Matthew much more than Cordelia and James, not that I dislike James in any way tho. It's just: Matthew is so unrestrained and she's so composed. They seem like an unlikely pair so it makes sense that they hit harder for me. James and Cordelia have such similar personalities but I ALSO don't ship James with Grace at all so like?? Poly would be... ideal... but it can’t happen especially cus they are fricking parabatai... a Will-Jem-Tessa situation seems more likely but mannnn ion know what to expect. I just want FAIRSTAIRS to have their moment in Paris. I mean James and Matthew clearly don't abhor each other for this.

Take everything I say with several grains of salt, take everything I say with the whole Dead Sea actually, cus I damn well know that Matthew is so flirty and whatnot that I’d have shipped him with anyone in their little circle but now that she set him up with Cordelia it all feels so right?? I have wanted this man in a good relationship since he walked onto the page in Nothing But Shadows so-

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I can't believe Cassia duped me like this omg, Matthew is gonna have his healing arc in Paris with Cordelia by his side like- THIS IS ALL I HAVE WANTED AND SO MUCH MORE. Question to yall btw: are you all as surpised at Fairstairs as me or did yall see it coming all along like smart people? Am I a lone clown? 🥺

BRUH okay criticisms of CC?:

Lmfao a part of me feels like I GOTTA say something bad about CC or the book but honestly I have no objective complaints about it as of now. Am I saying that it’s the PEAK of Young Adult literature and Urban Fantasy? I mean, I make no such claims tbh. I’m not here to be critical when I read as a hobby and when CC’s writing makes me happy regardless of how flawed some people see it.

Okay what next?

So like I’m excited for the adult high fantasy she’s releasing in the fall and whatever other works she might be releasing outside of Chain of Gold within the Chronicles.

As for TLH itself? Man I’m just VIBING like I suspect I will reread Chain of Iron soon and maybe one of the anthologies just because I am happy that this series actually happened after me waiting like 6 years for it when it was just a concept: a Dickensian retelling filled with poetry and culture and history and the conventions I so loved in TID at age 12. This is all I been wanting tbh. I’m just enjoying watching this series come to fruition for it to inspire and transform me in some way. I feel like in a way my coming-of-age aligns with that of these specific characters yet I ALSO feel like I raised Jamie since infancy. Wack.

MATTHEW AND CORDELIA IN FRANCE LA BELLE EPOQUE TO BE EXACT IMMA CRY I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING AND AHHHHHH. ALSO WILL AND JAMIE GOING TO CORNWALL TO GET LUCIE AND MAYBE BOND I LOVE WILL. HE WAS ONE OF MY DILF AWAKENINGS AT AGE 12 AND NOW HE’S HERE AGAIN IMMA CRY. I WANNA SEE MATTHEW GET HAPPY. AHHH.

Ending with a fun quote: “In the wise words of someone or other, there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Maurice.” 😉

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