#how is it that everyone I know is insanely talented but I’m the exact opposite. how’s that work huh.

[hana-bobo-finch]

hheh.oougghhhhh tgis is fine im not spiraling over something so stupid at all

[f0point5]

So when talking about 2023 I think the idea isn’t that Charles “dragged it up there” in term of speed. The SF-23 was considered fast in qualifying like you said because it didn’t have to deal with its tire degradation.

Instead he dragged it up there because the SF-23 was a car that has the fraises: “notoriously unpredictable”, “unreliable”, “chronic understeer mid-corners”, “instability”, “unwanted moment under breaking”, “complicated” all attributed to its name when it came to its behaviour and drivability.

In other words: Ferrari have often produced a fast car. That doesn’t mean the cars haven’t got a history of being shitboxes in nearly every other departments.

The amount of times post testing, qualifying, race you would have Charles and/or Carlos saying that neither they nor the team really understood why the car behaved as it did, both when it was good (aka the surprise that was Mexico qualifying, just giving it your all and for once have the car compliying) and when it was bad (see: Charles in Spain actually questioning if there’s was something seriously wrong with the car because of how badly it was behaving, and the mechanics and engineers not finding that unrealistic/believing him because their also didn’t understand the car). Even at the end of the year this was still a problem (looking at Abu Dhabi qualifying Q3 Charles first lap time).

To top that off the only way for the SF-23 to be somewhat predictable was with an understeer setup, which is the exact opposite setup of what Charles drives with.

None of this spell out a car which you, at speeds of 350 km/h throwing it around corners cm for the wall, would fully trust, feel comfortable or even be capable of giving and maintaining control of that extra insane push which is needed for a pole position.

Yet he managed 5 poles, the same amount of poles as the rest of the grid (minus max) combined.

Considering all this is I think why many agree with the sentiment that putting that car on pole is in deed “dragging it up there” when dealing with 1) a car you hate (he actually confirmed it’s testing was the worst testing of his carrier, even though he drove the awful SF1000 from 2020). 2) the disadvantage of spending so much of practice trying a large amount of setups because the car just won’t work with the type you usually have, and on top of that is so intolerant that it has trouble working with most setups in general (and starting this process all over again every race, because again no one really understands the car so who knows how it will behave on a different track) . And 3) a car that despite all that effort still is extremely unpredictable.

This came out very matter of fact but is meant as a different point of view.

Fair points. Although there were moments where the unpredictability/lack of trust in the car led to Charles binning it, which to my recollection Carlos didn’t.

I still think on his best day, Charles is the fastest of the grid over one lap. I do think the importance of that is overstated by a lot of his fans though. Because they don’t hand out points for breaking the sound barrier when 19 other cars are getting out of the way for you.

In equal machinery (by this I mean machinery equally optimised for the driver’s preferences), there’s still a few drivers I would put ahead of Charles in a title fight just in terms of their mentality, and their completeness as drivers over a season. And I think some of that is because Charles hasn’t had the experience of being in an efficient team, in the right car. There’s certain things you can only pick up when you’re in the best possible position. Regardless, I think there’s still space for growth. His talent is head and shoulders above nearly everyone on the grid, but as a complete package idk if I’d say he was.

I’m interested to see what he does with the car this year considering he was so positive after testing.

[all-for-geek]

Unfinished Business - Love, Family, and Possession Chapter 7 - The Devil Went Down to Georgia

Chapter 6

Chapter 8

Fandom: Julie and the Phantoms

Word Count: 1,980

Summary: As the auditions get more complicated for Julie, the boys learn more about Caleb's plan. Can they make it in time to stop it?

Song Used in Chapter

Julie and Flynn stared up at the stage the auditions were being held in. The venue put the Orpheum to shame. The rows of seats started melding together the farther she looked. The stage itself was double the Orpheum’s size. Dozens of lights and wires were strung across the ceiling connecting tech equipment Flynn had never seen before. All around them different bands and stage hands were running around getting ready for the auditions. The air was electrified with fear and excitement.

“Woah,” Flynn whispered, “This is…”

“Intense,” Julie finished.

“Right!” Flynn agreed with more enthusiasm. “I could spend a whole week here playing with all the equipment.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to settle for 5 minutes, girls,” Cassie, the stage manager, interrupted, “I need everyone on stage for one last announcement from Ms. Parker.

The two nodded and made their way up with the other bands. Julie kept an eye out for Carrie and the rest of Dirty Candi, but she didn’t seem to see them in the crowd. Julie couldn’t decide if she was happy about that.

Before Julie could spiral any further, Andi Parker walked into the theater. She was followed by several people in expensive looking suits except for one, lurking in the back.

“What’s Trevor Wilson doing here?” Flynn whispered. The question rippled through the crowd. Julie turned to her friend and shrugged.

“Welcome everyone,” Ms. Parker announced, silencing the whole room. “Thank you all for coming to Destiny Management’s first official talent drive!” She paused as the room erupted in cheers and applause. “I’m sure you are all ready to get going, but before we do, I would like to introduce you to our panel of judges.” The people in suits smiled and waved to the awestruck musicians. 

“These people,” Ms. Parker continued, “are at the heart of every decision made within Destiny Management. Their judgment will be based on the quality of your song, how well you sing/play it, and how well you perform it. And, we have a special guest who will also be judging. Destiny Management’s very own Trevor Wilson.”

Trevor stepped out of the shadows and gave a shaky wave to the awestruck crowd. 

“Well, now we know how Dirty Candi joined,” Flynn whispered. Julie was barely listening as she locked eyes with Trevor. His eyes widened in recognition. Before Julie could finish lifting her arm to wave, Trevor had scurried into the dark.

“However, it is important for Destiny Management that this be a fair competition,” Ms. Parker continued, “As such, Mr. Wilson will not be part of the judging panel for Dirty Candi. On that note, good luck to all of you! The first act will start in 15 minutes.”

All of the acts were ushered off stage and into various green rooms to wait. Julie and Flynn immediately went for the softest, plushest seats they could find.

“Why was Trevor acting so weird?” Julie wondered, mostly to herself.

“He’s probably trying to play it cool because he’s a judge,” Flynn reasoned. “The guy was like an uncle to you. If Destiny Management figured that out, they probably wouldn’t let him judge you guys.”

“Or that 3 of the bandmates were once in a band with him before they died,” Julie said in an attempt to relieve the tension. Unfortunately, it did the exact opposite. “Flynn! Trevor is going to see the guys when we perform! He’s gonna know who they are!”

“This is insane!” Luke shouted, tugging on his beanie. Of course, Caleb would come after them again. They should’ve known that something like this would’ve happened. They should’ve been on guard! 

“I’m sorry,” Willie responded. “I tried to get Nick out, but…”

“Hey, don’t go beating yourself up,” Alex replied softly, cupping Willie’s face in his hands. “You did everything you could.”

“That goes for you too, man,” Reggie added, grabbing Luke’s shoulder. “We had no way of knowing this would happen.”

“What does Caleb even want with Julie anyway?” Luke pleaded. Willie shrugged.

“If what you’re saying is true,” Alice speculated, they had filled her in on everything at this point, “then it’s possible that he’s trying to get rid of your Anchor.”

“Our what?” Alex asked.

“Every ghost has something that connects them to the living world. Their unfinished business is one, yes, but it often goes deeper than that. Something connected to their very soul. A fundamental piece of who they are. When that thing is connected to a person, said person becomes an Anchor. They can amplify a ghost’s power. Anyone with an Anchor is a threat to Covington.”

“Oh god,” Willie whispered, “His stamp.”

“What about his stamp?” Luke asked. It came out a little louder and angrier than intended, but no one mentioned it.

“He’s going to give his stamp to Julie,” Willie answered.

“What? He can’t give his stamp to lifers, can he?” Reggie asked.

“He absolutely can,” Alice answered, her eyes darkening.

“He does it to the lifers at the Ghost Club,” Willie explains. “He gives them some sort of trinket to wear so that the stamp can seep into their soul. Eventually, when they die, the stamp binds them to him. He can even amplify its power to speed up death if he wants.”

“It’s the perfect win-win for him,” Alice muttered, trapped in her own thoughts, “He’ll either have another powerful pawn to play with, or a spirit's tie to an Anchor is severed when the Anchor is dead.”

“Why are we still standing around talking about it?!” Luke shouted. “Julie is in trouble! We gotta go warn her!”

“Good luck,” Willie replied as the three boys started running out of the room.

“You’re not coming with us?” Alex asked.

“I can’t. This building is guarded against Caleb’s power. He can’t track me in here, but if I walk out the door…” Willie trailed off as he squeezed Alex’s hands. “Good luck.”

“Alice, you’re gonna come help though, right?” Reggie asked.

Alice hesitated before she responded. “If you’re going up against Covington, you’ll need all the help you can get.”

Julie watched the band before her bring their instruments onto stage, fidgeting with the bracelet Nick had given her. The guys had one song before it was time for them to perform. Where were they? What if Caleb found them and trapped them again? Or something even worse came and is stopping them from performing. Or-

Julie was jolted out of her head by Flynn squeezing her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, girl,” her best friend said, “They wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Julie whispered as the music began.

The boys poofed into the lobby of the theater. They didn’t have time to question why Alice was nowhere to be seen before a young man stepped out from the shadows. Only Luke had seen the boy before, but they all recognized the smug smirk on his face.

The devil went down to Georgia, he was lookin' for a soul to steal

He was in a bind 'cause he was way behind

And he was willin' to make a deal

“Hello boys,” Caleb greeted, “It’s been a while.”

They ignored him and went to poof into the theater. They didn’t notice the purple glow surrounding the doors until they slammed into it.

When he came across this young man sawin' on a fiddle and playin' it hot

And the devil jumped up on a hickory stump

And said, 

"Boys, let me tell you what," Caleb said, “You have given me the most trouble I’ve had to deal with in decades.”

“Thanks,” Luke replied sarcastically.

“It’s a shame that all those talents are being wasted," Caleb continued, “You could be doing so much more than some rinky dink competition. With my help, you could be a world renowned name in the land of the dead and the living.”

“Let Julie go,” Luke demanded through gritted teeth.

“Gladly. If you agree to join my band.”

I'll bet a fiddle of gold against your soul

'Cause I think I'm better than you

Julie watched the band perform. They were good. Really good. The guy playing the fiddle was moving his fingers so fast that Julie could barely keep up. Where are they?

Johnny, rosin up your bow and play your fiddle hard

'Cause Hell's broke loose in Georgia, and the devil deals the cards

And if you win, you get this shiny fiddle made of gold

But if you lose, the devil gets your soul

“Not a chance,” Alex said. 

Caleb shrugged. “Suit yourself. But ask yourselves one question: What are you without Julie? People can hear you, sure, but they can’t see you. You don’t get that connection with the audience, and you never will again. This could be the golden opportunity for all four of you-” Caleb was interrupted as Luke’s fist collided with his face. A sharp crack was heard before Caleb reset his jaw into place.

He pulled the bow across the strings

And it made a evil hiss

Then a band of demons joined in

And it sounded something like this

“Very well, boys,” Caleb responded with a chuckle. “Just remember: this was your choice.” 

Before Caleb could do anything else, a pale purple bolt of lightning rang along the barrier keeping the boys from Julie. They turned to see Alice standing in the shadows, her hand outstretched.

“Go,” she ordered. The boys didn’t hesitate to run through the doors. Alice exchanged a glare with Caleb before poofing off.

I done told you once you son of a bitch, I'm the best that's ever been

They poofed next to Julie right as the band finished packing up their gear. Flynn was already onstage setting up their own equipment. Julie didn’t bother hiding her relief when she saw them.

“Julie, we have to tell you-”

“There you are,” she whispered, talking over Luke, “Look guys, Trevor is one of the judges for the contest.”

“He’s what?!” Reggie exclaimed, temporarily forgetting the pressing issue.

“That’s not important right now,” Alex interject, getting them back on topic, “Julie, it’s about N-”

“And up next is Julie and the Phantoms!” Cassie announced. Julie ran on stage to the mic. The boys sighed and joined her. Hopefully, they won't be too late. 

They got set in their places as Julie started the song. They performed mechanically well, as always, but none of the boys could feel their hearts in it. Their minds were anyone but the stage. They were on Willie, on Caleb, and what would happen to Julie if they didn’t stop him. They didn’t even have the energy to acknowledge that they were performing in front of their own bandmate.

Trevor, on the other hand, couldn’t focus on anything else. They looked exactly the same as that night at the Orpheum. Something terrifying held on strong to his heart. Maybe it was the guilt of what he had done to their memory. Maybe it was the joy of seeing his old friends after all these years. Maybe it was the hope that he hadn’t lost the chance to make things right. That was the most terrifying thought of all.

As the song finished, the sinking pit in Julie’s stomach had only grown larger. The energy that the guys normally gave wasn’t there. And she had been too focused on them to put all her energy into the performance as well. Had they just blown their chance? And what was bothering the guys? They had tried to tell her something before they went on. Was she a bad friend for ignoring them? What-

A sharp, but subtle pain traced down Julie’s arm and into her very core. It was small, small enough for her to shake it off and chalk it up to stress, but the boys recognized that pain.

They were too late.

[shytastemakerthing]

hi!! may i request a matchup for ensemble stars and twisted wonderland? ^_^

i’m a pretty chill and lowkey individual. i’m usually very tolerant of other people and hardly anything angers me as i’m very patient and tolerant of other people even if they bother me. i have an unhealthy habit of ignoring and burying my negative emotions before they surface, and i also struggle to identify my true personality as it is locked behind the many masks i’ve put up due to my constant people pleasing. i secretly wish to be able to freely express myself and my opinions since i often hold myself back and am agreeable with other people even if i internally disagree. i have also been known to be a very smart and talented person who easily picks things up however i do not apply myself due to my lack of passion and low self esteem, so i usually frustrate people for wasting my potential. my hobbies are cosplaying, which i’m not too open about, and i also enjoy anything related to science and STEM and researching topics or theories i find interesting. i usually express my interest in someone by engaging in playful banter and i enjoy being teased even if i am very quick to fluster. i do not like people who are judgmental and rigid or emotionally volatile as i feel very pressured around them and am less likely to be comfortable acting like myself. i believe that’s all i have to say, thank you so much! :]

A/N: Thank you very much for your request! This honestly took off more than I thought that it would! This one will be the TWST matchup and then the Ensemble stars will be on a separate post. It may take some time to get to that one as I want to go through the other requests in my inbox first so they aren't waiting so long😊.

Honorable mentions for your TWST matchup include, Idia, Leona, and Trey!

I match you with......

Cater Diamond

• Okay, you guys vibe on an all new wavelength that you leave everyone else around your baffled and stunned, it's insane. Especially when it comes to the personality that you bith share. Keeping everything inside, hot letting people see and know the real you, and keeping things bottled in. Honestly, you two hit it right off the bat.

• It honestly didn't take Cater very long to figure out that you were like him in your own way, and with that, he felt understood when he was with you, almost as if he didn't have to keep on the mask of a carefree and happy student who could care less about anything when we, as an audience (as we have seen in some of his story), that it's quite the opposite.

• Not that it didn't mean to guys had smooth sailing the entire time. It took work and effort to build this relationship up, letting walls come down, in private, and getting to know and trust one another. But, once you both have gotten to that point within the relationship, it's rather a beautiful sight to anyone who sees the two of you #couplesgoals.

• Speaking of relationship, it was a rather funny story, you hith quite literally asked each other at the same time. The whole wanting to talk to each other in private, then talking over one another and urging the other to continue before it just came out. It made for good laughs and two very happy people.

• You're a cosplayer, no matter how much you are open about it, and you have a raging social media crazed boyfriend who can and will hype you up over every little thing. He would love to be able to see you dressed up and do a photo shoot of you to post something onto his Magicam. But, he will totally keep all of these pics private in a folder for only the of you to see if that is what you prefer. He will NEVER post any photo of you on his account unless if he has your exact, in words, permission to do so (consent is sexy, everyone!)

• If he DOES get permission to post any pictures of you or the both of you just doing whatever, because I totally see him as having a whole bunch of couples photos and goals moments littering his feed, you guys are a sensation. Pretty much everyone loves the both of you and the happiness that you bring one another! You guys have become the new media sensation of pure couples goals.

• Cater can be a pretty playful guy, especially where you are involved. He only wants to see tour happiness, real and true happiness, so he will never do or say anything at your expense. If there is any form of playful teasing, he is careful about it and backs off the moment that he sees it may be starting to get to you. And this involves protecting you from the teasing of others, no matter what anyone else says. The moment he sees you closing off and walls going up, he is there to remove you from thr situation as soon as possible.

• Even with a crazy day, he enjoys the calm and quiet moment that he gets to spend with you at the end of the day. He would take you to his dorm, both of you in your most comfortable clothes and he has the spice Ramen and anything else you'd like to eat ready. He loves being able to hold onto you, brush through your hair, he even uses his unique magic to create his clones to help. He's never been this happy before in his life.

• Overall, you're the reason he smiles now. No longer having to plaster one on and go about his day hiding. Because he doesn't have to hide when it comes to you. And every moment he gets to see you and ti spend time with you is a reminder that he really can be happy, and he will do anything to help ensure that same happiness for you.

[ohmygoodnessgraciouss]

Reality Check - Chapter 3

Thanks for the love!  It’s insane to me how quickly this blew up!  And I’ve loved hearing theories by you guys! The show must go on, so let’s not wait any longer ;) 

Summary: Y/N and Wanda were very close after returning in 2023.  The two bonded over the loss of their partners.  It wasn’t enough to keep Wanda grounded after she found Vision’s body though, and Wanda wants the best for her friend.  Unfortunately for Y/N, this means she’s going to be thrown into a reality she wasn’t expecting.

Missed the first part?  Read it here! Need chapter 2?  Go down to the tags and click #Reality Check Masterlist ! 

Scott led you to a nearby park.  You never managed to get those guitar strings for Loki, so you hoped he had more at home that he didn’t know about.  You sat down on a bench with Scott, who looked around carefully, as if to ensure there were no wandering eyes.  Not a person was in sight, but you assumed that was because it was the middle of the weekend.  Everyone was at home, spending quality time with one another.  

“I don’t understand still.  What is it that you wanted to ask me?” You asked him, once he finally turned back to look at you. 

“Do you remember how you first got here?” 

“Well, yes, you pulled us outside of the store,” You laughed.  

“No-” He shifted in his seat, “-Do you remember when you first came to this town?” 

“Of course, I moved here with my husband when...” You drifted off.  “When we...” 

He looked at you expectantly.  “Do you remember?” 

You shook your head, almost upset with yourself for not remembering.  

“No, I don’t.”

---

“Wanda, what do you think you can do about it?” You asked your friend who was pacing around your shared apartment.  She had her hair pulled back in a low ponytail and she was dressed in leggings and a sweatshirt.  It was clear she hadn’t been taking care of herself.  Some of the injuries she sustained during the final battle were still visible.  They complimented the dark circles under her eyes, showing you exactly how she felt on the inside.  

“Y/N, we have to go take him back.” She said, finally stopping in her tracks.

“You don’t even know what S.W.O.R.D is doing though!  Maybe they’re trying to extract important data from him.” 

“Or they’re trying to weaponize him.  Exactly what he didn’t want.” Her voice was stern, and she was trying to control her anger.  You knew she was right, but you wanted to believe it wasn’t true. 

“And you believe you could bust right in there, take his body, and get away with it?  Wanda, I know you’re hurting but this is absurd!” 

“You say it as if you wouldn’t do the same for Loki.” 

“Because I wouldn’t!” You hissed.  You stood up and walked over to the girl, whose eyes were starting to glow a dim red.  “Vis wouldn’t have wanted you to keep going after him like this.  He would want you to move on.” 

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me.  Y/N, I know you understand this feeling.  You said it yourself, you nearly went after Loki in that timeline after he took the tesseract.” 

“But I didn’t.  The opportunity presented itself but I knew deep down that I couldn’t do it.  This is our reality.  Our universe.  Our timeline.  My Loki is gone.  I can’t do anything about it.” 

“But what if we could?” She asked, zoning out rather quickly.  Wanda was no longer looking at you, but rather looking out into the open as if there was an opportunity that presented itself. 

“What are you talking about?” You asked nervously.  

“There’s nothing grounding us right now, Y/N.  Everyone is out there, partying, celebrating, having fun with their loved ones.  We don’t get to have that.  Not in the same sense at least.  But with my powers-” 

“Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say.” 

“We deserve happiness.  Even if it’s only temporary.” 

“You’ll trap yourself in there.  It’ll be your dream world and you’ll never want to leave.  I know you, Wanda.  You can’t do this.” 

“Can’t I?” She stormed out of the room before you could say anything more.  You wanted to run after her, but maybe some space was what she needed. 

You regretted that decision three days later. 

--

“Neither do I,” He said, breaking you out of your trance.  He sighed dejectedly.  “You’re the first person I’ve had a chance to ask about this.  Anyone else runs away to do something else before I have the opportunity.” 

“What are you trying to say?  This is a perfectly normal neighborhood.” 

“I’m trying to say it’s the exact opposite of that, Y/N.  There is nothing normal about this town.  Nothing.  How did you get here?  Why did you come here?  Doesn’t it feel like everything is dull?  Colorless?” 

“Why would it be anything other than normal, Scott?  Are you trying to say magic is real or someone has this whole town hypnotized or something?  It’s madness!” You exclaimed.  “And if you believe that so much then why don’t you just leave?” 

“That’s the thing, I can’t.” 

“What do you mean you can’t?” 

“I mean there’s no way out of this town.  If you want me to leave, you first.  I’ll follow your lead.  But you’ll understand what I mean as soon as you get to the border.  It seems like it just goes on and on and you never reach the sign that says you’re leaving Westview.  There’s no way out.” 

You stood up from the bench quickly, like a lightbulb finally lit up in your head.  You shook your head and turned to leave.  “I don’t know what you want me to do here.  I’m happy with my life.  You just sound insane.  No wonder everyone tries to avoid you.  I have to get to the talent show.  My husband needs me.”  

“Then go to him, but mark my words Y/N.  Something is wrong.” 

---

“Loki, I’m so sorry!  I got caught up with someone at the store!” You gave him an apologetic smile.  He was standing behind the stage, tuning the guitar once more before he went on.  He smiled back at you when he saw you walking up. 

“It’s quite alright, love.  I’m just happy you’ll get to see me perform.  I think you’ll love the song I have picked out.  It’s one you haven’t heard from me yet.” 

“You mean I haven’t heard this one a dozen times this morning already?” 

“Not at all,” He grinned.  

“Well, I’m looking forward to it.  Break a leg, hon.” You kissed his cheek as a woman motioned for him to go up on stage.  She had her hair up and she carried a clipboard with her.  You realized you didn’t know her, so you walked over to her as you watched Loki.  

He introduced himself and began playing a song.  “Hey Good Lookin’” to be specific.  You laughed lightly as he glanced over to the end of the stage, giving you a small wink.  

“He takes my comments too literally sometimes,” You shook your head.  The woman smiled politely.  

“He’s a very good singer.  You’re lucky to have him.” 

“Oh, I am.  Sometimes I wonder what I would do without him.  He’s been my best friend for God knows how long.” You watched him turn to look at the crowd, a bright smile on his face as he sang the lyrics.  The crowd watched with light smiles as the man played. 

“That’s the best relationship you can have.” 

“Oh!  I’m sorry, I just realized I never introduced myself.  I’m Y/N,” You introduced yourself. 

“I’m Geraldine.  I’m one of Wanda’s friends,” She replied.  

Wanda seemed to pop up at the mention of her name because the next thing you knew you saw her next to you.  “How wonderful!  Hey Wanda, how are you adjusting to the town?” 

“Well, it’s been quite a big adjustment but everyone here is so welcoming that it’s easy!” She said, straightening out one of her gloves.  “Now it would be a little nice if my husband decided to show up soon.  We go on right after Loki.” She started fidgeting with her fingers.  

“Oh you two have met?” You asked her.  She seemed to freeze for a moment, before relaxing again and responding. 

“Yes, right before you showed up.  He’s so sweet!” She gushed.  

“Well, he is quite charming.  As I’m sure you can see by what he’s singing right now.  I mentioned Hank Williams once this morning and this is what I get for it,” You giggled. 

“Aw, that’s so romantic of him.” 

“It truly is.  But enough about me and Loki, Geraldine, when did you arrive in town?” You asked, turning towards her. 

“Oh, I’ve been here for a while, I just haven’t had the time to participate in any of these fun events until a few days ago. Perhaps we should have an evening out with just us girls one day, get to know each other,” She responded, 

“That would be great!  We could go out, find something fun to do, get a break from our husbands,” You said, laughing.  Wanda laughed a little as well.  

“I’ll have to see when I’m free,” Wanda mentioned.  “We’re still trying to settle into our home so life has been a little chaotic.  I feel like I need some magical stone or something to reverse time and give me a chance to relax.” All three of you chuckled at her statement. 

“Now that would be a wonderful tool.  If only it existed,” You groaned dramatically.  

“Well, either way, if you ever need any help settling in, let me know Wanda.” Geraldine mentioned.  You nodded your head in agreement.

“Yeah, don’t ever hesitate in reaching out.  We’re here to assist in whatever you need.” 

“You girls are so amazing!” She exclaimed, hugging the two of you.  You smiled and hugged her back.  

As she broke the hug, Loki walked off the stage and back to you.  “You were amazing, honey,” You complimented him. 

“Oh please, you weren’t even listening all that much.  But thank you anyway,” He kissed the top of your head.  Wanda and Geraldine watched with small smiles. 

“Wanda, Vision needs to get here in another five minutes otherwise I can’t do much more.  They’ll tolerate another break but that’s all I can do,” Geraldine mentioned, walking up to the stage.

“Thank you Geraldine,” She sighed, clearly frustrated.  

“He’ll show up.  He must know how much this means to you Wanda, so I have no doubt he’ll be here in time,” You said.  She nodded her head.  

“He’s never late.  He’s always on time, always punctual.” 

To ease her panic and worry, Loki decided to change the subject.  “I don’t believe we’ve met yet.  I am Loki,” He introduced himself.  You furrowed your brows in confusion. 

“I thought you two already met,” You asked.  

“Well I know she’s been in the neighborhood for a few days now, love, but I haven’t had the opportunity yet to properly introduce myself.” He responded.  

“I’m Wanda,” She smiled nervously.  She was trying to figure out a way out of this situation.  Fortunately, Vision was running over just in the nick of time.  He seemed out of breath, with his full magician’s suit on.  “Where have you been?!” She began to yell at him. 

You walked away a little, giving them space.  Loki followed closely behind you.  He seemed confused, but only by your expression.  It didn’t seem like he was concerned by Wanda.  “What was that about?” You asked him.  

“What do you mean?” He tilted his head slightly, much like a dog.  

“Wanda said that you guys met already, while you were on stage.  And then you act like you didn’t know her at all.” 

Before he could respond, you noticed a glint in his eyes.  It was like a red mist reflecting in them.  The color faded quickly, back to the grey you were used to.  He seemed phased out, like something else caught his attention.  “We briefly talked right before you arrived, so maybe that’s what she meant.” 

You nodded absentmindedly.  You didn’t believe him at all.  Too many things were becoming too suspicious at this point.  Loki saw how you reacted, hurt flashing in his eyes.  A part of you would’ve felt guilty if you didn’t feel like you were being left in the dark constantly.  

“Loki I wish I could believe you, but so many weird things have been going on lately.”  You muttered under your breath.  

“Y/N, what’s wrong, love?”  He asked, placing his hands on your waist.  He was concerned, but he didn’t know what to do. 

“It seems like everything is off.  I’m seeing weird things around this place, weird people.  It all started when Wanda came to town, and now there’s some weird guy that I met at the store and-” 

“Wait, what weird guy?” 

“The one that I bumped into a few days ago.  He talked to me today and he sounded absolutely insane.”  

“What did he talk to you about?” 

“He started asking me questions I didn’t know the answers to.  He started spouting out some weird stuff about the town.  I ended up walking away because he wouldn’t stop pressing about it,”

“I don’t trust that man,” He said, almost afraid. 

“Me neither.  But with the other weird and strange things happening now, I wonder if there’s any substance to what he’s talking about.” 

“Y/N, don’t start with this.  Don’t get yourself caught up with someone like him.  You’ll drive yourself mad with this.” He pulled you closer to him by your waist as you avoided his eyes. 

He lifted your chin with one hand, forcing you to look at him.  “There’s something wrong here, Loki.  Do you remember how we got here?” 

“How we got here?” He echoed. 

“When did we move here?  When did we get married?  When did we decide to get married?” You asked him. 

“That doesn’t matter, love.  The important thing is that we’re here now, together.” He pressed. 

“You’re avoiding answering the questions.” 

“We deserve happiness, don’t you think?” You froze when he asked that.  Something about that phrase, those words, were eerie.  

You pulled away from him quickly.  “Don’t say that.  Loki, I deserve to know how we got to this point in our lives.  I can’t remember what we did to get here.  If you won’t tell me, then I need some time alone.  I’ll be home later tonight, but please don’t follow me.” 

You started walking away, refusing to look at Loki.  You know you’d run right back if you saw the heartbreak in his eyes.  

W̵̲͓̱̹̻̜͖̟̺̲͕̍̉͑̀̈͜͝ͅh̴̨̻̠̫̫̲̟͖͊̃̐̓̈̅̄͜a̶̢̛̜̝̯̩̻̾́̐̓͛́͜ț̵̡̜̗͓̱̠̝̖͚͕̹̗͚͖͗'̶̧͙͉̜͈̖̹̠͍̓ş̴̢̡̥̰̤̱̩͓̹̦̠̥̞̎̾͊͘͜͠ ̴̡̙̬͓̻͉̭̗͎̙͕͌̈́g̶̛͉̜̯̥̍͒ö̴̢͙͇͍̮̮̝̗͈̲̬̪̯́͋ͅͅĩ̶̧͕̜͖͖͎̌́̂̐͗̏́͛̃̄͘͠͝n̴̨̢͙̼̩͕̼̮̬̪͙̊̽͊̓̇̈̀̈́͒̈́̓͘͜͝ǧ̸̱̮͕̮̻̻͇̖̪̯̳̂̈́̉̾͐͜͠ ̸̭̼̃͂̇͗̓̆͐̓͗̀͋̑̉͊͛ơ̶̡̡̧̩̤̙̤̯͇̝̞̫̤͓̆͑̓̉̌͂̃̓̍̋̄͘ͅņ̶̯͓̭̺̹̪̅̓̍́͗̅͗͘͝ ̶̢̡̼̗̙̤̫̳͇͓̻͉̼̯͈͐̔̄̄͊̈́̐̿̔̄̈́̕ṋ̴̭̫͖̜̫̦̀͆̒͘ͅo̸̗͊̋̏̇̊̾̿́̆̇̈́̑͝͝w̶̛̛̼̓̍̀͐̄̀̈́̈́̿̽̚͘͝?̷̳̜̜̺̼͙̜̰͊͊͗̆͒̋͜

“Darcy?” 

“What’s Wanda doing now?” 

“She’s performing a magic show.  It’s just like any other sitcom.  She’s trying to hide her powers because Vision has decided to go haywire.” She said, taking a sip of her coffee. 

“Wait, what’s that?” Jimmy asked, pointing to the background.  

“It looks like Y/N and Loki.” 

“It looks like they’re fighting,” She responded, pointing out their frowning expressions, their stiff body language.  

“Would Wanda script that?”

“I doubt it.  She’s apparently living the perfect little sitcom life after all.  She’d never want people fighting like that.” 

Suddenly, the television screen flashed for a moment.  The camera panned to the talent show, pointing directly at Wand and Vision.  You could no longer see the other couple. 

“She must’ve noticed.”

“And she doesn’t want anyone else seeing.”

.

.

.

.

Taglist: @emberfulclass @momoneymolife @high-priestesss @hailey-the-heathen​ @mochminnie @dpaccione @intricate-melody @lindseyrae20 @storminateacup15

[sinsetcurve]

JATP FIC RECS

Oneshots-

All Those Little Moments- A series of the individual, chronological threads that make up the tapestry of the love of Julie and Luke.

It’s Always Been You (Even if it’s fake)- Julie Molina is not an idiot. She’s insanely smart and extremely talented. But, she does tend to do idiotic things. The most idiotic being telling her family that she's dating Luke Patterson and is bringing him home for spring break.

Ray and Rose and that Guy Trevor- Ray's POV on Rose's friendship with Trevor, through the years. (In which Trevor is kind of guilty but also kind of innocent.)

Head Over Knees- That one time Alex had an existential crisis over his knees.

Wrap Me Up- Julie is absolutely miserable. She’s caught a nasty flu and is so busy pretending to be fine that she’s totally pushed away everyone who could be taking care of her. Luckily Luke is more than prepared to step in.

Promises Kept- This is a missing scene from the fic We Found Wonderland. You need to read that first to really understand what's going on here. This cover's Luke's reactions to major events towards the end of We Found Wonderland.

I’m Still Breathing- Julie has asthma and when he was alive Reggie did, too. So, Reggie helps her out and cements himself as her big brother.

I’ll Love you There, Too- In her heart, Julie knew that Luke was going to propose eventually, she just didn’t know that it would be so soon, or how nervous he really was to do it.

This Hurt that I’m Holding’s Gettin’ Heavy-When Carlos got home from school Tuesday afternoon, he wasn’t expecting to find one of Julie’s bandmates in his bedroom, studying his bookshelf.

Come Again Bright Days- Julie and Luke haven’t spoken since they graduated from high school. But one night during their senior year of college, they find themselves in the exact same bar for the exact same reason: they were dragged there by their friends in an attempt to make them feel better after their respective break ups.

But Suddenly from somewhere out of the blue, I see a different light around you- Julie and Luke, family friends, end up sick together. While cooped up sick at Julie’s, a little conversation leads to a lot of secrets.

Like You Could Love Me- Julie hadn't slept in almost 48 hours. Luke was waiting for her on the porch when she gets home. Exhaustion + unspoken feelings and things are about to get interesting.

Not So Secret Relationship- Alex and Willie have been secretly dating for about a month and they've had yet to tell their friends about it. Alex decided he's finally ready to come clean to them.

There’s one thing on my mind- home didn't seem like home anymore for luke patterson, and so he was desperate to find a new place to write music. after an especially brutal fight with his mother, he finds himself in front of l.a. books. he isn't expecting to get much out of it, it was solely a last resort. but then he sees her, julie molina, and he ends up coming back every week just to keep seeing her. bookstore au

I’m Gonna pop some tags- Alex thinks working at Julie's family's thrift shop over the summer is going to be a good way to make money while also hanging out with his friends. Good. Easy. Fun. He isn't prepared for the skater who ran him over to be Ray's new hire.

Always- Luke is in love with Julie, and she loves him too. But it's not meant to be, he's been dead 25 years and she has a whole life to live. He wants to know why they can't just rewrite the stars, and eventually she finds a way.

He’s a little into it- Willex Hockey AU where Willie and Alex are on opposite teams.

Do a Kickflip!-It's Spring 1995, and Julie wants to spend some time at the new skate park. Unbeknownst to her, five boys are waiting to turn her summer (and life) for the better. Or! 5 times Julie ran into Sunset Curve, and 1 time she met with them intentionally.

Multi-Chaptered-

This is Where I want to Be- Luke is going through heaven and hell in his life and things take a turn when a especial someone drops unannounced into his life making him question his sanity. OR: Luke has a wicked beauty as his guardian angel and loses his mind

I’ve Got This Crazy Feeling This Isn’t our First Time Around- One second he is rocking the night away, the next he wakes up bloodied and battered in an alleyway. Found by a frantic curly-haired girl, he comes to realise nothing makes sense. He doesn't know where he is, who she is or how he got there, but one thing's for sure: It's not 1995 anymore.

Walk a Mile in my Doodled Shoes-The one where the boys use their newfound possession abilities to help Julie out of jams.

If I was you (I’d wanna be me too)- When Carrie wakes up, the morning after Julie and the Phantoms play the Orpheum, her father is gone. When her father has a breakdown, Carrie is forced to move in with Julie's family, and must confront some uncomfortable truths - about her family, her life, and herself. A house full of ghosts just comes with the package.

Time Of Our Lives- Alex, Reggie and Luke have been given an unexpected new chance at life. Will they fulfil their dreams this time?

We Found Wonderland- At the end of season one Julie isn’t able to save the boys and they are jolted out of existence. But what if there was another way? Julie finds herself back in 1995 with a chance to stop the boys of Sunset Curve from ever dying at all. But will she able to find her way home afterwards? Will she want to? Or has Alice really gone down the rabbit hole this time...

Midnight at Mona’s- Julie Molina expected many things on her impromptu road trip to Texas. She expected Flynn to be confused but ultimately supportive; she expected to relax and gain a new perspective; and she expected (or at least hoped) to rediscover the music she’d lost over the past year. What she did not expect was to be bunking with cranky rancher Luke Patterson, or the mysterious (and quite possibly magical) karaoke bar that would lead them on an adventure full of new friends, dangerous enemies, fun music, and a whole lot of love.

How Wonderful Life is While You’re in the World- Red, White & Royal Blue but Willex.

Our Life is a Playlist- They were best friends, they were family, and Julie had come to believe that they were soulmates. By the time the kids had turned thirteen, life had started teaching them the hardest lessons.

That’s Life- Julie Molina feels invisible most of the time. So what happens when she finds herself unexpectedly "married" to her handsome, popular, longtime-crush, Luke Patterson? She is about to find out. When she and Luke are randomly paired up to work on a project together for their Reproductive Health class, they have to learn to navigate the world of adulthood side-by-side for better or worse. All while dealing with the reality and drama of high school. Julie quickly discovers she's not as invisible as she once thought she was, especially to Luke. Does extra time spent together mean sparks will finally fly between them, or will it all go up in flames?

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[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 21 - Losing My Religion

Masterlist; Chapter 20

Summary: After Tallinn, you use the opportunity and visit Neil’s apartment. What you find there, only increases the confusion, just as the pieces are set for the endgame.

Warnings: Swearing; angst.

Author’s Notes: This was a challenge, and it’s a little different too, a breather before the real fun begins... or something. After this we move onto the icebreaker... (and things). I’ll shut up now, hope you’ll enjoy and all kind of feedback are greatly welcomed! 

The clean up after TP’s little accident on the highway was difficult. And tiring. By the time you have dealt with the mess and could call it a day, you wanted nothing but to sleep. And also disappear from the face of the Earth. That second thing was rather tricky to achieve. Unfortunately. You had to settle for the slightly awkward space given by the rest of the team and the fact that you were bound to return to London the next day. That was something. Even if it meant having to debate whether those damned keys were to be used.

The journey back was uneventful. Only Wheeler seemed capable of talking to you without looking as though she has been trapped in some metaphorical web of ineptitude that the others got caught in. That was alright. At least she knew how that conversation in the container went. Her company was good enough to keep you from going insane for the time being.

The moment the car arrived at the London quarters, you practically bolted out through the door. Eager to finally have your own space to reflect, cry, and try to move on after the unimaginable. But it was not exactly meant to be given…

“Y/N, wait!” Ives’ voice rung out through the reception hall as you skidded down the corridor.

Crap.

“Yeah?” cautiously, you stopped in your tracks, facing the squad leader.

Making the mistake of glancing at the reception desk, you met Anna’s watchful gaze. Of course. Even though you knew she had no clue about anything that transpired between you and Neil, it still felt like a painful reminder.

“I…uh...” the hesitation in Ives’ voice made you frown, “I just got this, and I’m not sure…” he passed you his phone with a strange expression on his face.

A text from TP. Just like the ones you received before. Right… This one had a familiarly succinct form: “Invert for eight days with the army from tomorrow. Then get to Trondheim, awaiting further instructions”

“Is this from him?” you looked up to see the blue eyes boring into yours with confusion.

“Yeah, it must be” you nodded and handed him back the phone.

At that exact moment, you got a text as well. Hurriedly you took out the device and read the message:

“Invert along with Ives and the rest”.

Short and simple. Yet not at all. Without a word, you showed your companion the text message and stifled a heavy sigh. Inversion. Eight days. Trondheim. That most likely confirmed your worst fears. The end of it all was near, and you were needed there. You, Neil, and everyone else still had their parts to play in the most important of showdowns.

“So, I guess we’re going back” you could feel Ives’ inquisitive stare on you “Just like they are” he added, awaiting a response.

Meeting Neil after those eight upcoming days sounded like a nightmare. Because a week was never enough to fall out of love. Or to even attempt it. You were a lost cause.

“…yep” nodding halfheartedly, you could feel another weight settle on your shoulders.

“Excited?” the intensity of Ives’ look convinced you towards his intentions.

Evidently, he tried to get a clue towards your state, probably assessing whether you could endanger the mission in any way. Despite everything, you were a professional. A Tenet agent. That had to come before any personal issues you might have had. Forcing a smile, you met his gaze with sincerity.

“Not really” a shrug completed the response.

But it was enough as he grinned back and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.

“It’s alright. Have today off and be ready tomorrow morning,” he ordered with a feigned sternness.

“Aye aye, sir” you saluted, enjoying the laugh it prompted.

Maybe not everything was utterly shit.

“Your edge is still intact, I see,” he commented once the laughter died down.

“At least something is then” you grimaced slightly and walked off with a wave.

A day off. What could one possibly do with something like that after everything? The set of keys in your pocket felt heavy for something that small. And insignificant (in theory).

*** It took you one hour of staring at the wall, a thirty-minute-long shower, and two coffees to decide to make use of the keys. After all, what was the harm? It was a way of spending the idle hours. And maybe to understand him a little better. Even if it was too late to save anything. You wanted to know him. To know his mind and heart. You dug out the note with the address Ives gave you and typed it into the maps app. Your hands were shaking the whole journey. Even though it was not far, it turned out to be challenging. Often you were catching yourself glancing at the phone, expecting him to call or text as he always did.  But then you remembered, making the nerves come to the surface again. You wondered whether it was because of the absolute wreckage your relationship became or because you were unable to contact him in any way. Walking the streets leading to Neil’s apartment, you realised that it was probably both. You missed him. Simple as that. And equally complicated at the same time.

Google maps led you to an old docking space transformed into posh loft spaces in two store buildings of dark red brick. The residential area was completed with a large parking lot (full of rather good cars), making the first question of the day pop into your head: Did Neil have a private car? Something that unimportant yet entirely mundane only made you realise how little you knew of his life. But this was exactly why you came here. The second thought was something you always knew yet never took time to ponder on: the fact that he undeniably had money. It did not matter, of course. Just another fact that could as a trigger for the intrusive ideas to appear.

Ignoring the spiraling thoughts, you made your way to the indicated building, keying in the code at the door and following the stairs to the second floor. The apartment door no 4 looked like any other you have passed on the way. Turning the key in the lock, you took a deep breath, gathering courage for god knows what. Perhaps just being alone with everything that had to do with Neil… The door opened soundlessly. Faint daylight from the corridor fell onto the furniture and objects gathered in the hall, helping your eyes adjust to the darkness. You closed the door and locked it. The least you could have wanted was for someone to break in on your watch. Now that would have made him hate you. If he didn’t already, that is. Taking off the shoes, you scanned the hall. Hooks with various jackets and coats on the wall. Including a slightly weathered leather one that perked your interest. With fingers ghosting the material, you were unable to block the images of Neil wearing it. That was enough to make you blush and curse out loud. That won’t help with getting over him. As though that was even possible.

Next, your eyes landed on the shoes rack in the corner showing off Neil’s questionable taste in footwear. You grimaced when spotting another pair of brogues (that would have to go… if there was any future for you) and then smiled involuntarily at something as casual as old converse on the top shelf of the rack. So, he could dress more… normally. Interesting.

The rest of the space was filled with a large mirror and a cupboard full of random objects such as spare lightbulbs, shoe care products, and cleaning supplies. On top of that cupboard, there was a succulent (practical, you had to admit), a desk calendar, and a small notepad filled with Neil’s writing. The contents ranged from shopping lists to quantum physics, making you grin fondly when looking through the pages. The latest entry was written down in haste and barely eligible. What you deciphered made your heart stumble for the first time that day. It seemed like Neil was planning to invite you over after Tallinn, prepare dinner, and apparently do all that ‘he wanted to for a while’. Brilliant. The notepad fell from your hands as the implications dawned on you. He wanted to set everything straight, to talk and potentially tell you important things… But now, it did not matter. There was no post-Estonia. Just you alone in his cold, darkened apartment, full of doubts, regrets, and worries.

Shivering from both the chill and the anxiety, you ventured into the living room. It was an open space with a large leather sofa, TV, record player with shelves full of albums and vinyls. There were also bookcases filled to the brim and a dining table for four. Once your gaze fell onto the black piano in the corner, you did a double-take. Obviously, Neil was musically talented. All those times when he has been desperate to annoy you by singing various corny love songs in public were an indisputable example. A moment like that from Tallinn flashed before your eyes…

You and Neil sat in a restaurant on one of the ‘dates’ you had managed to fit into the schedule before TP arrived in Estonia. Cozied up in the corner on a comfortable sofa, you felt perfectly at peace. Instead of taking the seat opposite, Neil got as close as it was possible without raising eyebrows of the fine clientele. You were chatting about everything and nothing, occasionally taking sips of the coffees and letting your hands rest on each other’s knees. Other times they would be interlocked on the table between the plates, showing to the world that this was no platonic meetup. Using the natural break in the conversation, you finished the remains of your latte and watched as Neil focused on the radio somewhere in the background. By this point, you should have known better, but still, the second he started singing took you by surprise.

‘Pretty woman I don't believe you, you're not the truth No one could look as good as you, mercy’

His gaze settled on you without that mercy, awaiting a response. His lips curled into a deadly smirk, making the matters worse. For a moment, you wanted to ignore him, to deny him the satisfaction. But the way he stared, enunciating the song lyrics with precision and aiming them at you, triggered the familiar desire to stake your claim. To make him (and everyone else) understand that he was yours. Especially with a voice that beautiful and eyes that looked at you with boundless affection.

‘Pretty woman that you look lovely as can be Are you lonely just like me’

It was the cheesy growl at the end of that stanza that did it. Combined with the huskiness of Neil’s voice and his hand appearing on your thigh underneath the table, it was enough to convince you to shut him up the best way you knew. You leaned in, placing your palm on the inside of his thigh, just close enough to remind him. Capturing his lips in a kiss, you did not have to wait long for Neil to invite you closer. You began the intimate dance, getting lost in the moment entirely. With him being in public did not matter. Especially not when he was giving you everything he could on a silver plate. Those days every kiss threatened to evolve into a full make-out session as you tried to get ever closer to him. That is why when you heard an awkward cough followed by “Miss, Sir, I’m sorry, but I need to ask you to leave” you could only start laughing. That was two days before your walk, which ended in the alley. The rest was history.

Shaking your head slightly, you let go of the memory. Has it gotten even colder? Shivering, you spotted a sweater draped on the side of the sofa. Crossing the space, you glanced at the instrument that caught your attention. A simple black Kawai piano with a Chopin music score opened on the fallboard and the stool underneath. If there even was a future, you wanted to hear him play something. You could almost picture it. Those long, elegant fingers on the black and white keys, hitting every note with perfection and the flourish he applied to every single task. His gaze focused. Golden hair falling into his eyes carelessly. Lips parted, tongue poking out in concentration. He was bound to be a sight as usual.

Ignoring the waking up flutters that always accompanied every thought about Neil, you picked up the sweater. It was the colour of dark red wine, simple and yet sophisticated in its simplicity. Cashmere. He really is posh. Giving in to the sudden whimsy, you breathed in the smell. That was a mistake. The moment Neil’s essence overwhelmed your senses, you felt a surge of feelings. The musky scent, the hints of bergamot and lavender that always brought comfort. Before you could second guess everything, you put the sweater on, letting the smell envelope you like his hugs always did. It was another thing that you missed. The ability to rest within his strong embrace, safe and wanted. The feeling of his arms cradling you with care. Without the solidity beneath your hands, it was hard to remember how it felt. The sweater had to do. You rolled up the sleeves and approached the large window, drawing back the curtains to see the view and let in light. The sight certainly was not disappointing with the lookout on the Thames and the docking ships. The area looked peaceful, like the place you could want to go out on walks and spend the rest of your life… No, stop. That was a dangerous line of thinking. After all, you only came here to satisfy the curiosity. And because you could, with nothing left to lose. Well, maybe apart from your sanity.

With the day shedding some light onto the furniture and objects in the room, you could more closely assess the type of person Neil was. The décor was rather posh (nothing surprising there) with leather, dark wood, and refined fabrics gracing the space. But upon a closer look, you could see the hints of Neil’s personality shining through the bounds of the stereotypes. It was visible in the chaos of the little details. Billy Idol album discarded on the CD player making you smile. The dying plants on the windowsill. The opened book on the coffee table right next to a bar of chocolate and some bullets. What even… 

Looking around the space, you could easily picture him there. It was like entering a museum of Neil’s life and heart, and you were just a mere visitor. A trespasser even though you had the keys. Lost in the thoughts, you approached the bookshelves, looking over the titles. Young and Freedman’s University Physics with Modern Physics with a worn-out spine and a library stamp on the title page (a theft?). Griffith’s Introduction to Quantum Mechanics with scribbles on the margins, making your head hurt. More Quantum Mechanics but only getting increasingly complex. Spacetime and Geometry. In between the textbooks, there were classics of English and American literature, proving your theory that Neil knew the canon well. All those quotations had to come from somewhere… You looked over the further titles relating to the nuclear area of Physics and relativity of time, only to be thrown out of the moment when your eyes landed on a photograph in a wooden frame. A grinning young man with warm brown eyes and curly dark hair sat on the bench in the park. Alex. Picking up the photo, you took a closer look, feeling inexplicable heaviness in your chest. He looked just like Neil described him – an essence of goodness and understanding. The lump in our throat was strange. He still loved Alex that was a fact and something you took for granted. For a second, you wondered whether you could ever be half that important to him. But that was selfish. And wrong.

Swallowing hard, you put down the frame, focusing on another one nearby. In that photo, you recognized everyone. Ives with slightly longer hair grinning widely, next to him Wheeler with her practical bun and amused eyes, TP relaxed like always when in the company of friends. And then… You would recognize those eyes and sharp jaw anywhere, but… He’s not naturally blonde? You stared at the man who was undoubtedly Neil but with light brown hair, just as messy as usual. Interesting. You did suspect he dyed the hair but still having confirmation was unexpected. Staring a little longer at the photo, you already knew that it did not matter. He was a work of art, full stop. The rest of the photos depicted the Tenet crew, apart from the one you assumed was a family snapshot from years ago. Two happy boys with mundane looking parents and a Labrador retriever (Charlie!). Upon a closer look, you could tell that Neil got his blue eyes after his mother and the smile after his father. It was an interesting discovery. Other objects littering the shelves included postcards, trinkets from travels, and a strange collection of obscure coins. Also, more notebooks with Neil’s equations and theories and music scores. There was no order, just fate, and fancy. Just like him.

Wandering into the kitchen, running your fingertips over various instruments and surfaces, you wanted to soak in the atmosphere of the apartment. So far, the new information was almost overwhelming. But also fascinating in the fact that you already felt like you knew him better. Glancing at the fridge in passing, you froze. Among the cheap promotional magnets and old shopping notes attached to it, there was a rather familiar writing visible. A note you made Anna pass to him many weeks ago. “I’ll be at the shooting range. Meet you for dinner after 5” signed with your initials for practicality. Why has he kept it? It did not make sense. You forgot about the existence of something that inconsequential, yet here it was. Kept in place with a blaring orange magnet from Sainsbury’s. Suddenly feeling a little faint with the implications of the moment, you poured tap water into the glass and sat down on the stool by the kitchen island. You could still remember Anna’s offended stare when you gave her the note with the instruction to pass it to Neil later. That memory triggered another one, much more recent…

In the days leading up to Tallinn, you went out with Neil for a lunch and walk under the guise of planning the logistics of your journey. Sure, there was some planning being done over the tea and sandwiches. But there was also a lot of hand-holding, kissing, and gazing shamelessly. It was during those days, and then the idle hours in the safe house, that you have allowed yourself to love him. The feelings were there for months (most likely), but only after Oslo and the candid conversations in your room, you felt more at ease with them. So far, that PDA was not all that terrifying. And so, when you came back to the London quarters that afternoon, your fingers intertwined, you only realised how it looked like from the outside when Neil tugged you in the direction of Anna’s desk.

“What are you doing?” you hissed, hoping the woman was too busy to see you.

“I told you, need to get that ID sorted,” he explained, matching your conspiratorial tone, completely oblivious to your struggles.

“Yeah, but…” you raised your joined hands as if to show him the issue.

Neil grinned, waving his free hand dismissively.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. It’s not like that’s against the rules” ending the sentence, he took the final step separating you from the desk.

Great. Plastering on the most pleasant of smiles, you met Anna’s accusatory glare. You could not blame her.

“Anna, hi” Neil’s bright grin got met with a cold face of stone.

You vividly remembered that first day at Tenet, when you were filling in the paperwork, observing him flirt with the woman behind the desk. Back then, you were baffled by her reaction, the fluttering of eyelashes and lovesick smiles. Now you wondered how you got to that point and why you were seemingly luckier than she could ever be.

“Yes?”

“My ID is expiring soon. Was wondering if you could give me the form for the new one?” Neil’s chirpy tone made you hide a smile by looking at the floor “I want to get this sorted for after we’re back” he added, with that hopeful gaze barely anyone could ever say no to.

Anna was not any different.

“Naturally,” she spared you a final spiteful look before turning around to use the computer.

Glancing around the empty lobby, you hoped to survive the rest of the encounter without any additional awkwardness. But Neil had other plans. He stepped in closer, nose brushing over your ear, tearing down any illusions about the nature of your relationship. You stifled a sigh when his lips placed a small kiss over your temple.

“Shall we go to yours after this?” the whisper complemented with a ghost of his fingers on the side of your neck made you shiver.

“Maybe…” you cast a wary glance at Anna, but her back was turned.

Thankfully.

“I thought we could resume the planning…” upon the suggestive tone, you turned to meet his gaze.

Surely enough, the playful sparks were there. And the smirk too. Of course. Planning, in this case, most likely meant more cuddling… and potentially kissing. His hands getting accustomed to your body, leaving countless promises for the future. The thoughts alone made you blush. Before Neil could get any closer, Anna’s voice interrupted the moment:

“Here’s your form,” nothing but ice and fury.

So, she must have noticed…

“Thanks” the polite nod made you snicker.

During the next few terribly long minutes, you did your best to avoid looking at the other woman. Or at Neil. Your gaze roamed over the ceiling, the walls, and the floor. Reading the same fire evacuation instructions for the fifth time, you felt a gentle touch on your arm:

“Can I put down your details as my emergency contact?” you looked up straight into those inquisitive blue eyes “I’ve had Ives the last two years, but I think you’re a more accurate option these days,” he explained as though it was obvious.

Emergency contact? You always assumed those were for best friends and spouses. You were not sure which fitted the criteria.  

“How so?” blurting out the only viable question, you met his perplexed gaze.

“… because I’m with you and not with him” the bluntness of the reply made your heart stumble.

“Right”

Of course, you agreed. As a ‘thank you’ that afternoon, Neil kissed you until there was barely any breath left for either of you. Now you missed the feeling of being that desired.

And yet, that stupid note was right there, in your eyes a bright red spot that you could not ignore. Because surely, he must have cared at some point? You finished the remains of water and washed the glass. Then, just for the sake of a distraction, you went through the kitchen cupboards. Nothing surprising. Appliances that looked barely used. Canned food every Brit would be expected to have. The amounts of frozen meals in the lower fridge compartments confirmed another thesis - Neil did not like cooking. That was fair not everyone could be Jamie Oliver. Not that you would prefer him. Certainly not. Shaking your head at the ridiculousness of the thoughts, you opened another cabinet. Wine and glasses, triggering the memory from your date night in Oslo. The way Neil tried to emulate his swank further by pretending to be a sommelier, making you laugh with his fake French accent and sparse knowledge. Upon the efforts to name something else than tannins (that Sauvignon Blanc had little of), you stepped in, shutting him up with a fingertip tracing the outline of his lips, collecting a stray droplet of wine. And then licking your finger clean, much to his shock. The strange snapshot from one of the most eventful nights in your life was a good cue to leave the kitchen and trod down the corridor.

You stepped into the bathroom, curiously glancing at the contents of the cupboards and around the sink. Nothing remarkable. Giving in to the temptation, you sprayed the cologne he used on your wrist and inhaled deeply. Closing the bathroom door, your eyes landed on the room at the end of the corridor. Neil’s bedroom. Involuntarily, you felt a shiver run down your spine. Bedrooms were always a sacred space. The most private of places in the house. The stage set for life’s crucial events. Love, life, and tragedy all began to play out (and end) in there. If there was a room closest to the heart of the owner, it would be the bedroom and its contents. With a shaky hand, you pressed down the handle and opened the door. The interior was almost too mundane. The bed with dark grey covers and decorative pillows. Some artworks on the walls and drawn curtains, forcing you to turn on the ceiling lamp. A small bedside table with a night light and books. A walk-in closet with the sliding doors partly opened. That was what drew you in first, crossing the space you peered inside. Only to be overwhelmed with that Neil smell that made sure to make your heart rate pick up. Gently, you ran your fingers over the suit jackets and sweaters hanged on the rails. He had a multitude of those, in different colours. Eyeing a suit in dark blue, you could imagine how it would bring out his eyes. There were a few sweaters in different shades of green, confirming the suspicions that he liked the colour. Further along, you found a drawer with ties of various patterns, making you grin at one olive green with Labradors on it. Now that was a classic Neil accessory.

Just when you were about to end the ‘snooping’ your gaze landed on a more casual part of the wardrobe. Jeans folded on the shelves, t-shirts, and polos. Even a jean jacket somewhere in the back. In the drawer, you found socks with questionable patterns, only increasing the fondness you felt for the owner of such an eclectic wardrobe. And then you made the mistake of letting your curiosity get ahead of you. Another drawer. Underwear. Your face got warm as you slammed it shut. Enough. Thinking about that could lead to the dangerous territory you would rather not venture out to. At least not when alone in his apartment, overwhelmed with memories and feelings. There would be time for this too later… Hopefully.

Sliding the doors shut, you took in the room again. The pile of books on the bedside table caught your attention. Gingerly, you sat down on the bed, doing your best not to think about the specifics of that moment. You, alone in his bedroom. This was certainly not how you expected to end up in there for the first time. But that too was beyond the point. Sighing, you picked up the stack of books only to drop them onto the covers with hands shaking. You would recognize the cover everywhere. Your favourite book. The exact copy you had last seen in Oslo when you gave it to Neil. That memory was rather unforgettable…

Hanging out in the hotel room, waiting for Mahir and TP to come back from a small errand, you did your best to ignore Neil’s piercing gaze from across space. That was the day after your careless dancing and that evening’s developments when he asked you out. Just before the mission. And Neil was staring, shamelessly so. It was getting on your nerves.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” putting down the itinerary, you broke the silence and faced him.

The satisfied smile was enough to make you groan. He knew exactly what he was doing, as though waiting for the moment to strike when you were alone.

“Actually not, no” the grin widened as he shrugged nonchalantly “Plus you’re quite the sight. As usual” propping his chin on his hand, he kept on gazing.

The bastard was impossible.

“Jesus…” sighing, you rummaged in the bag at your feet “Do you want a book or something?” you took out a worn-out paperback “Because all that staring makes me want to…” trailing off, you met his inquisitive glare.

Want to kiss him. For starters. But he need not know that.

“What? Tell me” Neil spread his legs casually, leaning back in the armchair. An object of pure poise. And the challenge, aimed at you only. That was Neil at the top of his game, sure of what he wanted and how to get it. But you were not going to give it to him easily.

“Better not” the slight shock in his eyes gave you confidence “If yesterday taught me anything, it’s that your ego is big enough” offering him a sly smirk, you took a sip of the water.

When you looked up again, Neil was staring at you with an exaggerated pained expression on his face.

“I’m wounded” he put the hand over his heart like the drama queen that he was.

Scoffing, you laughed at the spectacle. Two could play the game.

“Good,” the offended whine only increased the satisfaction “So do you want that book?” you picked up the paperback, showing it to him “I’ve got my favourite one with me. Could kill some time”

“Yes, please” he got up and crossed the room, taking the book from you “I’ll have a chance to see what’s in that head of yours” Neil leaned down to your level and kissed you on the forehead “Apart from the desire for me, of course” he added, once he moved out of your reach once again.

Fucking hell.

“Neil”

At least there were some fun memories to come back to, you thought, looking through the copy you borrowed Neil. Then you noticed another thing. Under your book, there was another one of the same title. Brand new. Pages filled with Neil’s scribbles on the margins and underlined passages, highlighting the exact same quotations that made this book become your favourite. My god. The realization hit you with a gasp and a shiver. He read it. And not only that, but he also tried to understand you through something you held so dear. Reading the notes he made, you knew he was listening to every word you said. No matter the moment, the stage of your ‘relationship’, evidently, he cared enough to be interested in your thoughts and feelings. You were holding the proof in your hands. In some margin notes, Neil even referred to you using your initials, pointing out why it could resonate with you so much. The more you read, the more it felt like you have encountered his diary, in some form. That would be it when it comes to getting over. Putting down the books, your head was spinning. Too much.

You needed food. And sleep. It was at that moment that you decided to stay. It got late enough to make the journey back inconvenient. And everything was right here. Feeling like Goldilocks personified, you made use of Neil’s frozen food assortment and put on the music. Once you got over the initial shock of the afternoon, it was almost too easy to pretend that Tallinn never happened. That you were still alright. That he still potentially loved you. With the somewhat soothing sounds of Billy Idol and The Darkness, you went over Neil’s notebooks with equations. You understood nothing but the possibility to read his notes and theories was as comforting as it could get. Then, feeling your eyelids get heavy, you cleaned up and moved to the bedroom. Lying down in Neil’s bed felt like sacrilege. But the moment your head rested on the pillow and you inhaled the scent, it was all excused. At least in your eyes. Giving in to the foolish daydreams, you could almost imagine him next to you. The warmth and comfort the cuddles always provided. But you were alone, still wearing that sweater that smelled too good to be given up. It had to be enough. You fell asleep thinking about those damned blue eyes and the man that took the ownership of your heart for good.

*** Upon waking up in the cold apartment the next morning, you wanted nothing but to leave as soon as possible. In the daylight, with dreams of happiness haunting every corner of your mind, the feeling of loneliness was more persistent. You made sure to get rid of any signs of your intrusion, cleaned the kitchen, and made the bed. The only keepsake you could not deny yourself was the cashmere sweater that you stuffed into the bag. Even if he would not want anything to do with you, you could give it back along with the keys. Surely he would understand… right? After everything that you found in his flat, nothing seemed certain anymore.

You made it back to the HQs with just enough time to shower and pack for the next week of sitting in the inversion chambers in the sealed off part of the complex. That did not sound good as it meant more time with too many people in the cramped quarters. You had enough of that at this point. But then that was the prize of getting the most incredible of jobs. That and getting your heart broken. Again.

You joined the rest of the army by the larger turnstile, used purely for long-term inversion, instead of training. Accepting friendly nods from both Ives and Wheeler, you took your place in the queue. No one knew exactly what the purpose of this was. Just that you were supposed to go back eight days and then travel to the Norwegian coastline, awaiting instructions. The intuition that was rarely wrong told you that you were in the endgame from this point onwards.

And so, the next week was restricted to trying not to lose your sanity locked within the four walls. The only escape from the small room was the kitchen (always full of people that wanted to know too much), bathroom (that always had lines of people waiting by the door), and the small courtyard, where you could not step out without the oxygen tank and a mask. Overall, it was not the most pleasant of experiences. Especially when most days you wanted to curl up in bed and contemplate the mess that your life became. And to marinate in pain that became a constant companion. The sweater could only help so much. Accompanied with nerves and worry, you felt objectively shit and did everything to preserve the solitude. That is how you found yourself in the small kitchen at 2 am, eating toasties and drinking tea. Earlier the compound was too busy, and you preferred starving than facing the others. Only with everyone asleep, you could catch up on the meals missed. Well, almost everyone…

“How are you doing?” a voice interrupted your brooding.

You turned in the seat only to see Wheeler enter the room with a small smile on her face. Her you could tolerate, as an exemption.

“Bad” the candid answer seemed only appropriate “But I don’t mind the company, so please… stay” you added upon her hesitation.

She just nodded and proceeded to make a cup of tea. The silence stretched, but for once, it was rather pleasant. Finally, she finished the task and took the seat opposite you, giving you a quick once-over. You knew what she saw. Tangled hair, reddened eyes from lack of sleep, and hours of tears. The sweater that became the only comfort in those early morning moments when nothing seemed real and yet everything was too much.

“Is the sweater his?” she asked plainly, and you could only nod.

At this stage, surely, nothing was bound to surprise her.

“Yeah… Maybe it’s silly, but I took it from his place just to have something… tangible” you explained, consciously running your fingers over the material. Instead of judgement, you got a smile in return.

“No, I understand” Wheeler took a sip from the mug before asking, “Did the apartment give you any answers?”

You have not shared the story with anyone, unable to process it all even in the quiet of your mind. But maybe this was a chance to let it out…

“Mostly whiplash,” you let out a bitter laugh “It’s like… he cares… or cared,” you stumbled over the tense “But then in Tallinn after the shoot-out, he just closed off completely, and I don’t know why” raising your hands in defeat, you planted on your face on the table.

Anything goes. After a moment of utter frustration, you met Wheeler’s inquisitive eyes again. She did not seem bothered by your antics. Just a little concerned by the picture you were painting.

“Maybe it’s trauma” the seriousness of her expression made you think.

You did consider that option. But even knowing what happened with Alex, his reaction seemed too violent. You were alive, and yet he was trying to push you away. Plus, that way of thinking implied something else. Something you did not dare consider.

“That would mean he… loved me” getting the words out was a challenge “And I don’t think he does” you stared at the table, giving in to the thoughts once again “Whatever is going to happen now, I think I need space. Some distance. Trying to get over this won’t work otherwise”

Formulating the feelings that were overwhelming your heart and mind felt somehow relieving. Even if the prospects were anything but good.

“Is that what you want? To let him go?” the straightforward attitude of your companion was helpful.

“I don’t know,” sighing, you met her gaze, “I want… him, but if he doesn’t feel the same then…” with reddened cheeks, you let the sentence trail off.

She would understand, you were sure of that. And, if the slightly suspicious look in Wheeler’s eyes was anything to go by, she had her ideas about the topic.

“You should probably try talking to him again” she spoke after a few minutes of silence.

“Last time that ended terribly,” you replied, arching your eyebrows, begging her to remember how bad that container conversation went.

“I know,” Wheeler patted your shoulder reassuringly, “But I also know that sometimes Neil needs a proper kick in the ass before he sees what’s right in front of him” she got up and went to the sink, picking up both of your dishes.

With the soothing soundtrack of the washing, you could feel almost sleepy. If it was not for that never-ending chatter of your thoughts.

“If you say so…” you murmured when she turned the tap off.

“Go to sleep. It’s just two days more of this torture” giving you a final smile, Wheeler left the kitchen.

You could survive two days. After that? Who knows. But it had to be alright.

[justdreamsstuff]

Here are 75 quotes about success to inspire you to keep pushing forward and achieve your dreams

"If you set your goals ridiculously high and it's a failure, you will fail above everyone else's success." James Cameron

"Success usually comes to those who are too busy to be looking for it." Henry David Thoreau

"Things work out best for those who make the best of how things work out." John Wooden

"Entrepreneurs average 3.8 failures before final success. What sets the successful ones apart is their amazing persistence." Lisa M. Amos

"If you are not willing to risk the usual, you will have to settle for the ordinary." Jim Rohn

"Take up one idea. Make that one idea your life--think of it, dream of it, live on that idea. Let the brain, muscles, nerves, every part of your body, be full of that idea, and just leave every other idea alone. This is the way to success." Swami Vivekananda

"Stop chasing the money and start chasing the passion." Tony Hsieh

"All our dreams can come true if we have the courage to pursue them." Walt Disney

"If you are willing to do more than you are paid to do, eventually you will be paid to do more than you do." Anonymous

"Success is walking from failure to failure with no loss of enthusiasm." Winston Churchill

"Whenever you see a successful person, you only see the public glories, never the private sacrifices to reach them." Vaibhav Shah

"Success? I don't know what that word means. I'm happy. But success, that goes back to what in somebody's eyes success means. For me, success is inner peace. That's a good day for me." Denzel Washington

"Opportunities don't happen. You create them." Chris Grosser

"Try not to become a person of success, but rather try to become a person of value." Albert Einstein

"It is not the strongest of the species that survive, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change." Charles Darwin

"Great minds discuss ideas; average minds discuss events; small minds discuss people." Eleanor Roosevelt

"The best revenge is massive success." Frank Sinatra

"I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work." Thomas Edison

"A successful man is one who can lay a firm foundation with the bricks others have thrown at him." David Brinkley

"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." Eleanor Roosevelt

"The whole secret of a successful life is to find out what is one's destiny to do, and then do it." Henry Ford

"If you're going through hell, keep going." Winston Churchill

"What seems to us as bitter trials are often blessings in disguise." Oscar Wilde

"The distance between insanity and genius is measured only by success." Bruce Feirstein

"Don't be afraid to give up the good to go for the great." John D. Rockefeller

"Happiness is a butterfly, which when pursued, is always beyond your grasp, but which, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you." Nathaniel Hawthorne

"If you can't explain it simply, you don't understand it well enough." Albert Einstein

"There are two types of people who will tell you that you cannot make a difference in this world: those who are afraid to try and those who are afraid you will succeed." Ray Goforth

"Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can." Arthur Ashe

"People ask, 'What's the best role you've ever played?' The next one." Kevin Kline

"I find that the harder I work, the more luck I seem to have." Thomas Jefferson

"The starting point of all achievement is desire." Napoleon Hill

"Success is the sum of small efforts, repeated day-in and day-out." Robert Collier

"If you want to achieve excellence, you can get there today. As of this second, quit doing less-than-excellent work." Thomas J. Watson

"All progress takes place outside the comfort zone." Michael John Bobak

"You may only succeed if you desire succeeding; you may only fail if you do not mind failing." Philippos

"Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear--not absence of fear." Mark Twain

"Only put off until tomorrow what you are willing to die having left undone." Pablo Picasso

"We become what we think about most of the time, and that's the strangest secret." Earl Nightingale

"The only place where success comes before work is in the dictionary." Vidal Sassoon

"I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everyone." Bill Cosby

"Though no one can go back and make a brand-new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand-new ending." Carl Bard

"I find that when you have a real interest in life and a curious life, that sleep is not the most important thing." Martha Stewart

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." Mark Twain

"The first step toward success is taken when you refuse to be a captive of the environment in which you first find yourself." Mark Caine

"Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect." Mark Twain

"The successful warrior is the average man, with laser-like focus." Bruce Lee

"Rarely have I seen a situation where doing less than the other guy is a good strategy." Jimmy Spithill

"Keep on going, and the chances are that you will stumble on something, perhaps when you are least expecting it. I never heard of anyone ever stumbling on something sitting down." Charles F. Kettering

"If you genuinely want something, don't wait for it--teach yourself to be impatient." Gurbaksh Chahal

"You can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backward. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something--your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life." Steve Jobs

"If you want to make a permanent change, stop focusing on the size of your problems and start focusing on the size of you!" T. Harv Eker

"Successful people do what unsuccessful people are not willing to do. Don't wish it were easier; wish you were better." Jim Rohn

"The No. 1 reason people fail in life is because they listen to their friends, family, and neighbors." Napoleon Hill

"In my experience, there is only one motivation, and that is desire. No reasons or principle contain it or stand against it." Jane Smiley

"Success does not consist in never making mistakes but in never making the same one a second time." George Bernard Shaw

"I don't want to get to the end of my life and find that I lived just the length of it. I want to have lived the width of it as well." Diane Ackerman

"Motivation is what gets you started. Habit is what keeps you going." Jim Ryun

"Our greatest fear should not be of failure ... but of succeeding at things in life that don't really matter." Francis Chan

"If you don't design your own life plan, chances are you'll fall into someone else's plan. And guess what they have planned for you? Not much." Jim Rohn

"Nobody ever wrote down a plan to be broke, fat, lazy, or stupid. Those things are what happen when you don't have a plan." Larry Winget

"To be successful you must accept all challenges that come your way. You can't just accept the ones you like." Mike Gafka

"Be content to act, and leave the talking to others." Baltasar

"You may have to fight a battle more than once to win it." Margaret Thatcher

"Be patient with yourself. Self-growth is tender; it's holy ground. There's no greater investment." Stephen Covey

"I owe my success to having listened respectfully to the very best advice, and then going away and doing the exact opposite." G. K. Chesterton

"Many of life's failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up." Thomas A. Edison

"The greater the artist, the greater the doubt. Perfect confidence is granted to the less talented as a consolation prize." Robert Hughes

"What would you attempt to do if you knew you would not fail?" Robert Schuller

"Always bear in mind that your own resolution to success is more important than any other one thing." Abraham Lincoln

"Successful and unsuccessful people do not vary greatly in their abilities. They vary in their desires to reach their potential." John Maxwell

"Would you like me to give you a formula for success? It's quite simple, really: Double your rate of failure. You are thinking of failure as the enemy of success. But it isn't at all. You can be discouraged by failure or you can learn from it, so go ahead and make mistakes. Make all you can. Because remember that's where you will find success." Thomas J. Watson

"Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere." Albert Einstein

"Success is just a war of attrition. Sure, there's an element of talent you should probably possess. But if you just stick around long enough, eventually something is going to happen." Dax Shepard

"My tombstone? I'm thinking something along the lines of, 'Geez, he was just here a minute ago.'" George Carlin

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Is It Really THAT Bad?

Cats has been a divisive show ever since it opened in 1981. Some people hate it for being a plotless spectacle that focuses more on the visuals than on music and story, while others love it for those same reasons, as well as for being utterly campy and fun. I’m firmly in the latter category, to the point I can’t  really comprehend the opposition to the film. Stuff like the jab at this film in The Critic or the mockery of it in Hey Arnold just seem weird to me; what is it about this fun, silly musical about cats that makes people’s blood boil so much?

Perhaps all these people saw into the future where the film was released.

Cats had a long, troubled history getting from stage to screen. In the 90s, Amblimation was set to make an animated version of the movie, set during the Blitz of WWII. Unfortunately, the inability of writers to find a way to turn this episodic showcase of random singing cats into a cohesive narrative combined with the failure of Amblimations films caused the project to dissolve, leaving behind nothing but some really cool concept art. 

But see, this perfectly demonstrates the problem with adapting Cats: the musical is a spectacle, a showcase, it’s all about the dancing, costumes, and the songs. It doesn’t have a story to speak of, instead contenting itself with showing us a bunch of different cats and having them sing about themselves for a bit before moving on to the next cat. Sure, there’s a bit of continuity and whatnot, but this really isn’t the sort of show that’s trying to deliver a deep narrative. It just wants you to have a good time, nothing more, nothing less.

No one told any of this to Tom Hooper, apparently. This director of the grounded, gritty, realistic adaptation of Les Mis was tapped to utilize this same style in a musical about magical singing cats, all while not even knowing what catnip is or how animation works. Hooper was apparently constantly butting heads with the VFX team due to his lack of understanding of how animating works. He tried to get the team to watch videos of cats performaing the stuff he wanted and forced them to give 90 hour work weeks, cementing Tom Hooprt as one of the biggest douchebags imaginable. On top of all this, the guy tried to weave this plotless showcase of felines into a cohesive narrative, and tapped a bunch of talent of various degrees of questionability to play parts. And what was the result?

An absolute disaster. The film was savaged by critics, with most positives being that the film was so bad it’s good. The film (of course) won a bunch of Razzies, and was the subject of mockery and memes before, after, and during its run in theaters. Hell, as soon as the trailer dropped, the film was mocked to death. Not helping was the rushed VFX which, again, was due to the team being under pressure from a draconian idiot who had no idea what he was doing. The film received an unprecedented bug fix, so to speak, in the form of an updated version with slightly better VFX that was shipped to theaters after the initial negative reaction. This obviously did nothing to help the movie’s reputation, of course. Hell, even in my initial review, I wasn’t super keen on the film. Most damning of all, though, was Andrew Lloyd Webber himself calling the film ridiculous, and even said "The problem with the film was that Tom Hooper decided that he didn’t want anybody involved in it who was involved in the original show."

But after ruminating on it, and after watching the film once more, I’ve decided to ask the usual question: Is it really that bad? It’s weird to ask this about a film that’s so new; I usually wait for hindsight to kick in, and look at older films considered bad. But even now, Cats is building up a reputation as a campy cult classic, with such figures as Martin “LittleKuriboh” Billamy watching the film with alarming frequency. And after reading the nightmarish behind the scenes and considering everything… yeah, I think this film deserves a re-evaluation.

This is going to be a little different, though: I’m sort of going to go through the film part by part, since this film has an interesting issue where, generally speaking, the first half is where the worst problems are, and the second half is where things start to pick up. So let’s get the bad out of the way first, then move onto the good.

THE BAD

So, I’m actually not going to pick on the VFX too much, and not just because of the horrible treatment of the VFX artists. In all honesty, the weird human/cat people, while not even remotely as cool as the insane costumes of the stage show, eventually stop being super distracting and kind of just become something you accept. Like, I’m not gonna pretend like this work is amazing, but I dunno, I think it gets harped on too much. There is some stuff that stands out as noticeably bad, though, and we’ll get to that.

A consistent problem with the film that I can’t even try to defend is the problem with the scaling. It’s seriously hard to tell how big these cats are supposed to be in relation to anything else. They honestly seem to change size from scene to scene. It’s seriously weird and baffling and there’s never any way to get a good sense of scale. Even when the cats are alongside mice and roaches, it just boggles the mind what size anything is actually supposed to be.

Mr. Mistoffelees, one of the most flamboyant and enjoyable characters of the stage show, is one of the biggest character issues with the film. Gone is the tricky, confident magician who prances and dances, and here is a meek, sniveling twerp who can barely do anything without tripping over himself. This is because the actor who plays him had a terrible audition that left him miserable due to a lack of singing and dance background. So, rather than find someone who could, you know, sing and dance, they decided to rewrite Mr. Mistoffelees into comic relief, which is just an insulting slap in the face. The cherry on top of course is how they straightwash the character and excise his homoerotic tension with Rum Tum Tugger, instead making him completely and totally straight and giving him a thing for Victoria. Out of everyone in the entire film, they did Mr. Mistoffelees the dirtiest.

Now, let’s get onto the actual “plot.” The film actually starts out fairly well, with some cool shots, good dancing, and some setup for Macavity, whose intro has a neat little nod to the fact he’s based on Moriarty. The issues don’t really start showing up until we reach the first of the Jellicle choices… Jennyanydots.

Jennyanydots is portrayed by Rebel Wilson, which is the first issue. Rebel Wilson is probably one of the worst actresses ever. She is just a horrendously, relentlessly unfunny human being, and she brings that exact quality to her role here. For her song, the vocal talent is secondary to the cringeworthy comedy Wilson puts on display. And yet, somehow, Wilson isn’t the worst part of the scene. No, that would be the horrendous CGI human-faced mice and roaches, which look like they came out of a PS3 game.

This horrendous spectacle is followed up with the appearance of Rum Tum Tugger, portrayed by Jason Derulo. I’m of two minds about this. On the one hand, I do think Derulo has the necessary egotistical celebrity swagger to play Rum Tum Tugger (especially when you consider he responded to negative criticisms of the film by calling the movie  “one of the greatest pieces of art ever made”) and his design is actually one of the better ones in the film, but on the other hand, his singing and the musical choice for his song are not very impressive and really just doesn’t work all too well. It’s at least something of a step up from Rebel Wilson and her CGI abominations, but that’s not really saying much, is it?

Next up we have Bustopher Jones, played by James Corden and, if I’m being totally honest… he’s not quite as awful as he could be. Corden is basically the male equivalent to Rebel Wilson, but at least while he’s singing he manages to be somewhat amusing, whimsical, and enjoyable even. The problem comes when he throws in jokes, including one where he claims to be self-conscious about his weight… a joke that occurs in the middle of his song where he is bragging about how fat he is. Talk about sending mixed messages. I wish I didn’t have to be so harsh on Bustopher, but sadly he is bogged down by really bad shtick.

Bustopher Jones also highlights a problem with the cats in this first half. These minor roles – Jennyanydots, Rum Tum Tugger, and Bustopher Jones – are all being played by relatively big celebrities, and as such they’re going to want a lot of time to sing. As a result, songs that were ensemble numbers on stage become more one-man songs here, with Bustopher Jones being the most egregious example, turning this positive fat character into a walking James Corden fat joke as he sings his own praises rather than having his praises sung.

Following him up we have Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, who are usually fun characters with a fun little pseudo-villain song, but alas, they manage to screw that up by using a slow, jazzy version of the song originally used in earlier London productions rather than the more up-tempo version from later productions, making the song sound awkward and forgettable. Topping it all off is the bargain bin Mr. M popping in at the end for some wacky shenanigans, but at this point, the movie takes a turn towards…

THE GOOD

So as soon as Dame Judi Dench shows up as Old Deuteronomy, the film gets a sort of inverse of what happened at the start. Where the film starts somewhat awkward and promising, it slowly gets stupider and stupider when Rebel Wilson, Jason Derulo, and James Corden botch their scenes in the ways described above. Here, things start a bit shaky and unsure, but Dench is a sign things are about to pick up. What makes her so enjoyable is how, despite how utterly silly things are, she treats her role with the dignity and gravitas of something out of Shakespeare. The only thing as good as an actor in a silly movie like this going full-on ham and cheese is an actor treating their role dead serious and injecting it with such class and dignity you can’t help but enjoy it. Thankfully, Dench isn’t the only person to take her role seriously.

Jennifer Hudson as Grizabella technically appears briefly in the earlier portions of the film, but here we get to hear her belt out “Memory,” and by god does she do a fantastic job. The raw emotion and passion she injects into Grizabella is phenomenal, and it’s even more powerful when it comes back for its reprise in the finale. Victoria gets a sort of response song to “Memory,” called “Beautiful Ghosts,” and it’s a decent song in its own right, but you can tell it was a more modern composition and it just doesn’t gel super well with the rest of the songs. Still, all this is good stuff, and the “Memory”/”Beautiful Ghosts” scene is a nice, refreshing bit of emotion after the incredibly weird and silly extended dance number that is the Jellicle Ball.

The movie doesn’t stop pulling punches; shortly after Grizabella we are given Gus the theater cat, an elderly actor whose number is all about reminiscing of the old days of theater and his many stellar roles from days gone by. Naturally, the only actor who could possibly perform this role properly is Sir Ian McKellan. I am completely unironic when I say this: This is to McKellan what Patrick Stewart’s performance of Xavier in Logan is. This sounds ridiculous, but think of it: Gus is an aging thespian, clearly a bit senile and desiring to be reborn because he has reached the end of the line, and McKellan fills him with this genuine, incredibly honest performance that really makes you feel emotional. It’s powerful. It feels so personal and resonant, like McKellan has inserted some of his own feelings into his performance, which may very well be the case. Oh, and after his song Macavity kidnaps him with a big autograph book and apparates away while saying his name, which gets me every time.

And now, my friends, the lord and savior arrives: Skimbleshanks.

This is, hands down, the best scene in the entire film. Everything comes together here: the music is absolutely fantastic, the dancing is choreographed extremely well, and it’s clear that everyone involved is having a blast. This is a concentrated essence of what Cats should be, and it’s really a shame Hooper didn’t understand that this is the energy needed for the entire production. The most crucial element, of course, is Steven McRae, who not only has a lovely singing voice and looks dapper as all hell in his red suspenders, but is a tap dancing maniac. This man has feet of fire, and his tapping adds a whole new layer of fun to the song. Overall, this is a perfect scene, and probably one of my favorite scenes in any film ever. For a brief four minutes, everything about this film works. I literally have no idea why this cat wants to be reincarnated, he is straight balling in this life.

But the hits don’t stop! Right after this song, Taylor Swift descends from the ceiling, and we get “Macavity.” In the stage productions, this is a song sung by Bombalurina to describe how nasty Macavity is, since she’s traditionally a good cat; here, she’s reimagined as a villain, and so this song is basically her acting as Macavity’s hype man, singing his dastardly praises, and best of all, Macavity joins in at the end! I’m certainly not a Taylor Swift fan, but she really kills it here, and definitely makes this one of the best songs in the movie with her hilariously forced accent and insane energy. It’s just a shame that from here on out Macavity ditches his villainous pimp coat and is now a nude Idris Elba, but I suppose this is equivalent exchange for Skimbleshanks being so amazing.

While not as incredible as the previous two songs and not quite as good as the stage version due to the removal of the latent homoeroticism, Mr. Mistoffelees’s song is actually okay. It’s nice that he gets to sing his own praises here, but it’s just nothing compared to the stage version, even if it has a fun little finale and it actually is genuinely heartwarming when Old Deuteronomy returns and sings along. It’s a sweet moment that almost makes up for how much Mr. M has sucked the whole movie. Oh, also, all of the Jellicle choices Macavity kidnapped fight back against their captor Growltiger, with Skimbleshanks aggressively tapdancing at him and Gus using his acting skills to make him fall into the Thames. This is so goofy that it wraps back around to being awesome.

The movie winds down in the goofiest way possible after the gorgeous reprise of “Memory,” with Macavity being caught on a big sculpture and apparently running out of magic, leaving him stranded like a regular cat. Then we get one final fourth-wall breaking song where Judi Dench directly addresses the camera that has the music swell up to the point where it seems like the song is ending numerous times without actually ending, and each time is funnier than the last. Really, what better way could you end such a silly film than with this?

Now, a general thing that’s great about the film is the choreography. The dancing in the movie is spectacular. I don’t really have a bad thing to say about it. And, in a broad sense, the music is good too, even if the singers aren’t always perfect, the backing tracks are great, and there’s a lot of fun in the tracks in the latter half of the movie. McRae and Taylor Swift’s contributions in particular are great, and Hudson’s version of “Memory” is incredibly powerful, as is McKellan’s take on Gus’ song.

Is It Really THAT Bad?

No.

Look, it’s hard to be like “Wow this is a fantastic masterpiece of film” or anything like that, because the movie has blatant and evident problems. But this is literally the reason I made this review series; I’m asking if the movie is really as bad as people say, and in this case, no, there’s too much genuinely enjoyable in the film for me to say it’s deserving of several Razzies and a spot on the Bottom 100 of IMDB that places it above Master of Disguise and The Emoji Movie. Like, seriously? This is worse than the 90 minute commercial starring the abusive dick who called a bomb threat on his girlfriend? Hell, this movie is rated worse than Artemis Fowl, which is definitely a contender for the worst film ever made (and amusingly enough also features Judi Dench in it). Artemis Fowl has next to no redeeming qualities in it, and it certainly doesn’t have Skimbleshanks, whereas Cats has several fun scenes and also has Skimbleshanks.

I definitely think there’s more of an argument for this film being so bad it’s good or camp at best, but it’s definitely more enjoyable than you’d think it would be. If you can learn to live with the weird CGI, it’s a fun, goofy romp that you might find yourself feeling for at times. After my second watch, I have to say… I’ve started to unironically enjoy this movie. It might even be one of my favorites of all time. I can’t even deny that it has a lot of stuff I don’t like, and it falls flat in a lot of ways the 1998 film soars, and it screwed up some of my favorite characters… but there are so many moments where the fun and heart of Cats shines through brighter than it has any right to, and all the failures of Hooper and Universal seem distant for a just a few minutes.

So yeah, is this movie good all around? No way. But is it fun, does it have value, and is there more redeeming qualities than the critics let on? Oh yes there is.

[babycracker]

I want to write something but I don't know how to get started

DO IT!

ok but seriously, im gonna assume that you're saying this would be your first go at it? either that or you have an idea that you're not sure of and you don't know how to kick it off. under the cut again coz i got rambling, again.

so if it's you're first time writing something, or first time writing something to share anyway, I'm gonna be a broken record and say again, make sure you're doing it for you. not for someone else, not for notes.

if you're meaning for twc (i assume??) then i feel like this is especially true. not saying at all that this fandom is unsupportive, its the exact opposite actually, just saying that these ppl are INSANELY talented and they have very specific tastes so it takes a while to make a name for yourself ig? ive been writing for twc for like, 4 months-ish? and literally im only just starting to get some traction, some of the time.

i don't want to make this sound like im trashing the joint bc i'm not at all, but i find ppl here don't tend to like smth just bc everyone else does like it works in some other fandoms, you know? but that's a good thing i think bc it means that regardless of whether you write mainstream stuff or smth more niche ig? there's gonna be a whole lot of ppl who like it just bc it's up their alley, if that makes sense?

ok but i got away from my point: if you're unsure how to start bc you're worried that it'll flop, stop that right now. it might take a while to get up a bit of a following but it WILL happen, you just gotta be patient. but if you're only after the recognition then you're most likely gonna be disappointed and tempted to give up real quick. it's absolutely worth being patient though bc after being here a few months i met some of the nicest and most supportive and motivational ppl i've ever spoken to in a fandom. you're just gonna need to write what you like to get through that initial starting out phase, you know? just write what you like and you'll find your ppl ig is what im saying.

if it's a more practical problem you have, or if you're not new to the fandom, then im not sure i have any advice without knowing exactly what the issue is. like is it plot, or characters or what? or is it technical stuff like you're trying to decide what style would work best or smth? i'm happy to help but it's difficult without more information, so you're more than welcome to dm me so you're not broadcasting your ideas publicly!

tell me what you're thinking on anon

[dakotacrisis]

For Better or Worse

I FIXED IT! I had to help my poor children through this cringe-fest. No akuma and these two have an actual effing conversation about their feelings!

MAJOR SPOILERS if you haven’t seen Puppeteer 2 yet.

---

This day was turning into a nightmare. What was Alya thinking? Marinette couldn’t confess right now. So many things weren’t right! Even with Tikki’s encouraging words Marinette still found a black hole of doubt swirling in her chest. She left the bathroom repeating that she could do this if only to help her convince herself that this wasn’t insane.

She looked up and saw Adrien across the room. “Huh?” Marinette got closer, “They finished the statue already? I thought it was gonna take longer. That’s the whole reason we all got to come here in the first place.”

It was an incredible likeness. She stood to admire it for a moment before an idea popped into her head. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if she could practice her confession on the Adrien statue before confronting the real thing.

“Okay. A little practice never hurt anyone. Not like anyone’s around to see me put my foot in my mouth.” Marinette looked around to make sure no one was watching. “Hello Adrien, it’s me, uh, Marinette. No--he knows who you are already!” Marinette chastized herself.

“Focus, Marinette!” she took a deep breath and turned back to the statue. “Uh hey, Adrien, sorry for running off so suddenly. I saw the finished figure back on the main floor. You look good! I mean it looks good! Not to say you don’t look good but--”

Marinette dropped her head into her hands. “Why is this so hard?”

She stared back at the statue and sighed. “Figures, I can’t even tell a wax figure how I feel. Even if he rejects me I want him to know though. It’s not just a little crush but real admiration. I--I--”

She squared her shoulders and looked at the statue. They even got the exact right shade of green for his eyes. “Adrien, I...I like you. Not just as a friend. I’ve had a crush on you since you gave me your umbrella that rainy day after school. Getting to know you over the time we’ve spent together has only solidified what I feel. You’re sweet and kind and brave. You see the best in everyone and have the patience of a saint. Especially with me. That’s why this is so hard, trying to tell you how I feel without spewing word vomit. I get nervous because while the fantasy in my head is nice, it can come crumbling down with one word from you. Now more than ever I feel like I need that fantasy. I’m under so much pressure with things I can’t even tell anyone about.”

She placed a hand on Wax-Adrien’s cheek. The wax was still warm it seems. “I like you, Adrien. I hope that you can like me the same way.”

She leaned closer as if to kiss him but stopped. “Stupid.” she muttered and shuffled past him towards the elevator.

“Wait!” A hand grabbed her wrist. She turned back and saw that the Adrien statue was holding her. Wait. Not a statue.

IT! WAS! NOT! A! STATUE!

“Adrien?” Marinette’s brain started to fry. He was playing a prank! Of course they didn’t finish the statue that fast! He was just trying to play a harmless prank and she--oh no!

“Marinette, I--”

“Why didn’t you say something?” She wretched her arm away from him, “That wasn’t funny, Adrien! Not funny at all!”

She ran back toward the elevator. “Goodness, I’m such an idiot!” She slammed the button for any other floor. The doors started to shut but a hand shot through and pried them back open.

“Marinette, wait, please,” Adrien begged as he jumped into the elevator. The doors slid shut behind him blocking Marinette’s exit. “I’m sorry. It was meant to just be a prank. I thought it may cheer you up.”

Marinette squeezed herself into the farthest corner of the elevator. “Why would I need cheering up?” she muttered.

“Because uh,” Adrien fiddled with his ring, “I thought you were mad at me. What Nino said and then you taking off like that I thought that maybe I had done something wrong. That you hated me for some reason. The prank was supposed to lighten the mood I guess.”

“I don’t hate you.” Marinette looked past him at the elevator key pad. In her rush she had hit one of the topmost floors. This elevator wasn’t exactly speedy either. She was stuck with this conversation whether she liked it or not.

“I gathered as much,” Adrien stood in the corner opposite of her. “Did you really mean all that? What you said when you thought I was a statue?”

Now was the time to deny. Deny everything and let this whole mortifying experience die in a hole where it belongs.

But Marinette didn’t want to deny it. It was the truth. Every single bit of it. “I can’t lie to you, Adrien. I...I did mean it. I meant every word.”

There was a long silence.

“Say something,” she squeezed her eyes shut, “Please.”

“Sorry, I was letting it sink in.” He finally said. “I guess I wasn’t expecting a confession today.”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to say anything. I knew it would ruin everything.” Marinette slumped to the ground. “I feel so stupid.”

“No, you’re not,” Adrien sat down next to her, “To be honest I was rather shocked. I thought you liked Luka.”

“Luka is great.” Marinette shrugged, “But he isn’t you.”

She dared to meet his eyes once more. He was looking at her with a mixture of awe and pity. “And I’m not Kagami.”

“Kagami?” Adrien’s eyebrows raised, “What does Kagami have to do with you confessing to me?”

“Adrien, please, I know you like her. I helped you go on a date with her for goodness sake.” that dark curling snake of jealousy constricted around her heart.

“Right…” he stared back at the ground, “If you’ve liked me for as long as you’ve said then why did you help me? Why would you offer to help set me up with someone else?”

She drew her knees up to her chest, “Because seeing you happy means more to me than my crush. If I can’t be the one to make you happy then I’d rather see you with someone who could. It doesn’t matter what I feel in that instance. It’s not my heart.”

“Marinette,” Adrien hesitated to put on a hand on her shoulder, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t try and--”

“I mean it!” he turned to her fully so he was kneeling in front of her, both of his hands clasped on her shoulders, “You said how I was kind and brave but you are ten times that. You are without a doubt one of the kindest, bravest, most talented, passionate, and selfless people I have ever met. You are so confident and driven that I can’t help but look at you in wonder. The only person I can think of coming anywhere close to how incredible you are is Ladybug herself. But you don’t need a suit or powers to be amazing. You’re our everyday Ladybug...my everyday Ladybug.”

Marinette was at a loss for words. Would it be too much to cry right now?

The doors pinged open and Alya and Nino were standing there waiting with Manon between them.

“Oh hey,” Alya surveyed the scene, “We were helping Theo look for Adrien but you seem to be in good hands.”

“Alya!” Marinette made a break for the door.

“See you back down in the studio!” Alya was quicker and hit the button for the studio floor. She gave Marinette a wink before the doors shut again. Adrien and Marinette alone again for another long trip back down.

“I am going to kill her.” Marinette banged her head against the door.

“Is that what they were talking about before?” Adrien asked, “The whole thing about leaving us alone together was to…”

“Give me a chance to confess. Yes.” Marinette turned back around, “Not that she told me that earlier. Which is why I panicked and bolted earlier.”

“I still don’t fully understand.”

“Alya and Nino thought they were helping because I’ve been trying for months to tell you how I feel--”

“Not that.” Adrien interrupted her, “I wonder how someone as spectacular as you could see so much in someone as lame as me.”

“You are not lame, Adrien.” Marinette smiled as she took her place sitting back across from him. “You are probably the least lame person I know.”

“You only say that because you like me.”

“No, I don’t. Also, this self-deprecating behaviour of yours has to stop. You are a wonderful individual. You’re a master fencer, you play piano beautifully, you’re fluent in Chinese, and you’re a talented voice actor as well as a model.”

“Only because my father has me practice all those things until I’m perfect at them.”

“What about video games? You’re second only to me, after all. You’re also insanely smart. I think that you and Max are the only ones who got straight A’s on their report cards last term. That is all you, Adrien.”

He finally smiled at her again. “Not to say you don’t have a dorky side too. You’re still socially awkward and make dumb jokes from time to time but it’s cute.”

“You’re not perfect either. You can get a bit scatter brained when caught off guard and you seem to have an intimate relationship with the floor.” he smirked in a way that made her heart race.

“Oh, it’s like that is it?” She laughed, “You know in the anime world my clumsiness would be seen as adorable and endearing.”

“You watch anime?” Adrien’s head perked up, “I didn’t know that about you.”

The rest of the elevator ride was spent in comfortable conversation. It went from them talking about what anime shows they liked to other interests. Music, food, video games, favorite puns. By the time they reached the studio floor again they were leaning on one another howling with laughter with bad joke after bad joke.

“Okay. Okay. I got another one.” Adrien said as he and Marinette got off the elevator, “What do you call a fake noodle?”

“What?” Marinette giggled.

“An impasta!” the two broke down into hysterics again.

“It’s so dumb!”

“If it’s so dumb then why is it so funny?”

“I got one. What kind of tea is the hardest to swallow?”

“Reali-tea?” Adrien guessed.

“Boo! You stole my joke!” she pounded on his chest.

“Get better jokes then,” he grabbed her hands to stop their assault. “I could send you a link to a site I know. The best kind of bad jokes you’ll ever find.”

“Adrien, there you are.” Theo walked up to them, “Where did you go?”

“Oh sorry,” Adrien smiled in apology, “I, uh, got stuck in the elevator.”

“Well, you’re back now. Come then, I’d like to get your figure done today.”

They walked back into the studio. Nino, Alya, and Manon had yet to make it back. Adrien placed his other hand inside the mold. “Now don’t go running off this time. I need to go grab more wax.”

With that Marinette and Adrien were alone once again.

“Hey, Marinette?” Adrien said.

“Yeah?” she plopped herself into a chair next to him.

“We kinda got off-track earlier in the elevator. I just started gushing about you and then you said all those sweet things to me and then we started with the jokes and well…” he took a deep breath, “I think we still need to address the elephant in the room.”

“Right,” Marinette was hoping that they may have just forgotten about her confession with all the other stuff that had happened, “You have an answer for me?”

“I feel like I need to explain first.”

Oh that was a great way to start this! He was gonna break her heart, wasn’t he? Of course he doesn’t like you like that! He’s crushing on Kagami! Stupid! Stupid!

“Stop that.” Adrien’s voice broke her from her thoughts.

“Huh?”

“You’re panicking. I can see it in your eyes.” he motioned for her to come closer. He took her hand with his free one, “There’s nothing for you to be scared about.”

“Don’t give me false hope like that.”

“I mean it.” he held her hand tighter, “You’re amazing, Marinette. What all I said before I meant it. I just never thought of you that way.”

“Adrien…”

“That’s not what I meant!” he pulled her closer so she couldn’t run away again, “I mean with Luka and my own warring feelings I just never explored what I felt for you more deeply. You were my friend and that’s all I thought there was to it.”

“Were?” Her heart started to beat faster.

“Yeah,” Adrien looked deep into her eyes, “You...you’re great. You mean a lot to me and I--I--I think I--I don’t know. It’s all happening so fast that I can’t think straight. All I do know is that I like you. I like you as a friend but also not. There’s something there. Something has always been there like a detail in a painting you never noticed before that changes how you see the rest of it.”

“What are you saying?” She didn’t dare so much as breathe at that moment.

“I feel something for you. I may not have it all figured out now but I’d like to.” the bell dinged and he released his hand from the mold. He held both her hands in his. “Can we talk about this? Really talk about it? Say somewhere more private and over a plate of cookies?”

“I’d like that.” she touched her forehead to his. “I’d like that a lot.”

---

(Read the rest on AO3)

[lolabean1998]

This Better Work Part 3

Sweet Pea X OC

Summery; Hey guys, not sure how well this is going to go but I originally put it on Wattpad so its way long, but hopefully its not horrendous. Let me know what you think! So, it follows the story line kind of, it’s not exact but I have tried and it follows my OC Ali as she navigates through the hell that is Riverdale. Whilst struggling with financial, social and romantic difficulties, she has the added pressure of keeping up with school work and bonus of being thrown into the frightening world of the criminal underground.

Side Note; None of the gifs or pictures I use are mine, I’m not talented or smart enough to even begin an attempt at making my own. Thank you to those who have such abilities and if you don’t want me using them then please let me know so I can remove them for you. 

Word Count;  4,525 (Give or Take)

Masterlist   Part-1   Part-2

The next couple of weeks were filled with Black Hood scares, investigations and lots of homework. Ali had somehow managed to maintain her usual workload. Whilst balancing her free time between helping Betty investigate the Black Hood and aiding Cheryl in coping with the horror of living with her mother.

"So, Ali. Are you able to make some time in your busy schedule to come to the little soiree I'm holding tonight?" Veronica asked as the girls made their way to cafeteria for lunch.

"I'd love to Ronnie, but I have so much homework to catch up on and I promised Izzy I'd take her to her friends house for a sleep over." Ali apologized. "But I'll be coming to the open house thingy." Ali promised with her signature, unbreakable smile.

"Ok, I guess since you have SUCH a busy schedule and you have managed to squeeze in the MAIN event, I can let you off the hook." Veronica exaggerated playfully as they took their seats either side of Archie. 

"Hey Arch, you looking forward to the party tonight?" Ali asked politely pulling a large box of pasta salad from her bag and digging in. Archie and Veronica watched in amazement as she began to inhale her food. 

"What? I'm hungry, Don't Judge Me." Ali defended innocently, her stomach growling angrily as she spoke. 

"See" She cried pointing to her well-toned stomach.

"It's just amazing how such a tiny girl can eat so much!" Archie chuckled shaking his head. Betty sat opposite Ali as Archie spoke, a grim look holding her delicate features hostage.

"Hey Betty, you ok?" Ali asked through a mouthful of pasta. Frowning when Betty nodded giving her a false smile. Ali knew she had been under a lot of pressure with the Black Hood lately. But something had clearly changed for the worse. 

"Can we talk? I need to run something by you about the Blue and Gold if that's ok?" Ali improvised thinking quick on her feet.

"Uh yeah sure shall we go there now while you have some free time?" Betty suggested knowing how busy Ali was. Ali nodded packing away the rest of her food and jumping to her feet. Linking arms with Betty as they made their way to the room for the Blue and Gold.

"So, you want to tell me what's bugging you?" Ali asked as they entered the small room, closing the door behind her and perching on the edge of a desk giving her blonde-haired friend a concerned look. 

"Come on Betty you can tell me anything. I'm hardly one to judge. You of all people should know that." Ali smiled straightening out the light grey vest she wore under a baggy cream cardigan, her ripped, pale blue skinny jeans showing off her muscular legs.

"It's the Black Hood. He's been contacting me. Threatening to hurt my friends if I don't do what he tells me." Betty sighed looking down at her feet, rubbing her arm as she spoke. 

"He says I have to sever all ties with my friends, or he'll do it his way." Betty looked as if she was about to burst into tears, causing Ali to leap off the desk pulling her friend into a bear hug.

"No matter what happens. No matter what you do. I will always be here for you. Let him try and come after me. See what happens. I didn't take 12 years of MMA classes for nothing." Ali comforted her friend, talking into her jumper as she spoke. Betty pulled away wiping a tear from her eye.

"Ali I can't put you or anyone else in that kind of danger. I just don't know what to do any more. He wants me to destroy my friendship with V." She sobbed leaning back on the desk behind her.

"If he's threatening V then she'll understand. For now, I think you should do as he says. He's a wild card Betty and I don't want you getting hurt. As far as everyone is concerned, we had an argument and are no longer friends. The only time we talk is when we're working on the Blue and Gold or you're helping me in the garage on a school project for extra credit." Ali planned taking control of the situation for Betty. She clearly needed the support. 

"Everyone knows I'm crazy hard working and friendly to everyone, so it won't raise any suspicions. If the Black Hood does see through our smoke screen. Let him come after me. I have both Malachi and the Serpents protection. I'm covered." Ali winked, she made sure she covered all basis when she put a plan together. Betty stared at her in shock and curiosity when she mentioned Malachi and the Serpents.

"Who's Malachi?" She questioned tilting her head slightly, her eyebrows knitted into a puzzled frown as she crossed her arms. 

"Oh, Ghoulies leader. I'm the only one that does a good enough paint job apparently." Ali answered brushing it off casually. Betty's face dropped at her statement. "What?" Ali frowned defensively.

"You're insane. You've gone completely mental. Ali you can't be friends with 2 rival gangs. Its going to end in mayhem." Betty declared.

"I'm not. I'm friends with the Serpents and the LEADER of the rival gang. If it ever came down to it Malachi would turn me to the hounds without a second thought. The Serpents however have taken us under their wing. They would never betray us." Ali explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Betty nodded slowly as she wrapped her head around it when the bell rang signalling the end of lunch. 

"Care to walk with me to chemistry?" Ali asked offering her arm. 

The day of the open house was a rush of last-minute preparations. Ali had dropped Izzy off at the Lodges place early so she could get ready with Veronica. Whilst Ali whizzed round on her bike picking up some last-minute things.

"Thank you for helping on such short notice Ali. I hope it wasn't too much trouble." Hiram Lodge thanked Ali as she handed him the box of expensive champagne.

"Oh, not at all. Always happy to help. I hope Izzy hasn't been too much trouble." Ali smiled politely, following the man inside to be greeted by Hermione Lodge, Izzy and Veronica who were all sat on Veronica's bed getting ready.

"She's been a star helping us get ready. Thank you, Ali." Hermione Lodge answered looking up from styling Izzy's hair. She had put it up in a very stylish fish tail plait with a few loose strands curled to frame her face, she wore a pale blue dress that ended just below her knees matched with an adorable pair of silver ballet flats. 

"Why don't you jump in the shower whilst we finish up here. Then we can help you get ready on time." Veronica suggested pointing towards the door to the bathroom. Ali smiled giving her a salute as she bounced into the bathroom. 

After a quick shower and being prodded and poked as the girls styled her hair and did her make up Ali was finally ready. Her hair had been curled and pinned to the side, so it fell elegantly over her shoulder. Showing off the black, backless, halter neck dress she wore with a pair of red ribbon heels. Veronica had given her subtle smoky eyes and classic red lips to match the red nail varnish on her surprisingly well-maintained fingers.

"Ali you look amazing!" Izzy beamed looking up at her sister. The girls all stood back to admire their handy work only to be interrupted by Hiram Lodge, who had knocked on the door to tell them their car was waiting down stairs.

"Now are you sure you'll be ok riding you're bike to the venue. I don't want you crashing and ruining your dress." Veronica teased as Ali swung herself onto her bike carefully tucking her hair into her helmet so it wouldn't get ruined.

"I'm sure V. I'll be fine besides, I can't turn up to the ball without a date and I only have eyes for Harley." Ali smiled brightly patting the handle bars of her bike before speeding down the road towards the Venue.

"You're sisters a crazy person." Veronica whispered to Izzy as they got in the car.

"Now who might you be?" A handsome dark-haired boy addressed Ali, who was stood awkwardly at the side of the large ballroom looking for her little sister.

"Hey, I'm Ali." She smiled offering her hand to shake, containing a cringe as the boy took her hand bringing it to his lips and kissing it. Maintaining eye contact the whole time. "You must be Nick St. Clair, Ronnie's told me so much about you." 

"Good things I hope." He grinned returning Ali's hand.

"There are bad things too? She had me under the impression that you were a good boy!" Ali replied, smiling her cheeky bright smile.

"You know, several people have warned me about you Ali Masters. You and your contagious smile but I had no idea it was so hypnotizing." He flirted stepping a little closer. He had that aura about him that sent the hairs on Ali's neck standing on end. He reminded her of Malachi, the way he looked at her like a meal or chew toy. 

"Care for a drink?" He offered calling over one of the waiters with a hand signal.

"A drink sounds pretty good right now. I'm not used to being quite so dressed up. I feel like I'm on display." Ali joked, although she was being very serious. Nick handed her a drink smiling innocently at her. She knew that smile all too well. She had used that smile plenty of times herself. It was the innocent smile of trouble. 

"Thank you but I don't trust drinks handed to me by strangers. I hope you don't take offence to this. But I'd feel much better if I got my own." She smiled apologetically placing the glass on the table and grabbing another glass from a passing waiter.

"By all means, whatever makes you comfortable." Nick replied holding his innocent grin, however there was a glint of disappointment in his eyes. Ali had been stood talking to Nick for a few minutes when Izzy came skipping over looking very pleased with herself. 

"Hey Izzy, what are you so happy about?" Ali grinned looking at her sisters happy face. 

"Oh, Izzy this is Nick St. Clair. Nick this is my little sister Izzy." Ali quickly introduced.

"I just met Mr. and Mrs. St. Clair and they said I looked lovely and that I was one of the nicest girls they'd met." Izzy beamed proudly, making Ali and Nick chuckle.

"And why wouldn't they say that? You're the prettiest girl here." Nick complimented her. 

"Mind if I steal little Izzy here for a dance? I'll be good I promise. Wouldn't want to upset the big sister." He joked waiting for Ali to give him the all clear.

"Hey, it's not me you've got to worry about. I mean sure I'll kick your ass if you hurt or upset her." Ali paused placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning in a little. 

"But who do you think my sparring partner is? I'm not the only Masters with more than one black belt." She winked sending them onto the dance floor. Nicks face turning a slightly paler shade. 

Her phone buzzed with a message from Betty, 'Sending Archie to do it, don't think I can face Juggie.'. 

"Bugger! Betty what have you done?" Ali muttered to herself as she made her way quickly towards Veronica. 

"Ronnie, thank god. Somethings come up that needs my urgent attention. I'll be back as soon as I can, but can you keep an eye on Izzy. She's dancing with Nick for now. Is that ok?" She hurried, Veronica nodded looking over to where Ali was pointing on the dance floor.

"Yeah, no worries I've got this." She confirmed looking a little worried for Ali. 

"Thank you!" Ali called back already jogging to the parking lot where her bike was. Cursing her heels as she went. Throwing her Helmet on as she swung herself onto her bike and speeding off in the direction of Jugheads trailer. 

She came to a swinging halt outside Jugheads trailer just as Archie was storming off. Leaving Jughead a broken shell in front of a young group of Serpents. She heard him yell something to the group. But it was hard to make out what he said with her helmet on. Jumping off her bike she threw her helmet to the ground, sprinting towards to boys. She may not like wearing heels, but she can certainly run in them. This isn't the first crisis to arise during a formal event.

"Juggie, JUGHEAD." She called but he ignored her calls. 

"FORSYTHE PENDLETON JONES THE THIRD DON'T YOU DARE IGNORE ME!" She screamed running over to where he had now stopped. Frozen like a statue. She never used his full name. 

"Another one of your Northsider friends. Oh joy." One of the serpents snarled sarcastically from behind a very angry looking Sweet Pea.

"Shut it snake or I'll turn you into a shoelace." Ali snapped glaring viciously at the group.

"Easy Princess, in case you haven't noticed we out number you 10 to 1." Sweet Pea warned. But Ali was in no mood for playing games.

"Then I suggest you save your selves the humiliation of getting beaten up by a single cheerleader and Shut. Up." She snapped, venom dripping from each word. 

"Don't be rude, give a girl some privacy." She commanded flicking her wrists towards them and pulling Jughead out of earshot. 

Sweet Pea bit his lower lip when he saw her bare back. The way it glowed in the evening sun. There was something about this girl that challenged his control. He'd only seen her a few times since the water fight night. Passing glances when she'd drop by the Wyrm to drop something off for her mother but every time he saw her it felt like his blood turned to pure sunlight.

"Dude you're staring." Fangs muttered under his breath nudging Sweet Pea's side. Pulling him back to Earth and his depressing reality. A girl like that would never fall for a guy like him.

"No I'm not. Shut up Fangs." Sweet Pea growled under his breath.

"Jughead you have to listen to me. Archie went way out of proportion there. She's not breaking up with you. Just... asking for some space. She has some stuff she needs to figure out is all." Ali tried to explain without giving it away. She knew that if he knew the real reason, he would only make things worse for himself. 

"Look Ali I get that you're trying to protect my feelings. But she made it clear when she sent Archie. It's over between us. Now you need to go. You can't be here." He snapped before storming off leaving Ali stood alone by her bike.

"God damn it Jones. I am not wearing the shoes for this." She muttered angrily under her breath. Jogging back over to where the group of Serpents were now trailing off behind Jughead. Ali managed to catch up with the last of the Serpents when one of them stopped, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back.

"Where do you think you're going Princess?" The boy hissed, his grip getting tighter as she tried to pull away.

"I really don't have time for this." Ali sighed feeling very annoyed and a little threatened. She grabbed the boys wrist digging her nails deep into his flesh drawing blood. The boy let out a pained yelp and punched her. He had a strong swing and caught Ali clean on the side of her face causing her to yell out in frustration. Her cry rang clear in Sweet Pea and Fangs ears and the pair immediately bolted to the other side of the trailer to find Ali slamming the boys face hard into her knee. The side of her face bleeding and a bright red hand mark on her wrist. 

"God dammit. I am supposed to be clean and presentable." She growled as she let the boy fall to the floor. Her voice shaking with rage, body slumped against the side of the trailer trying to control her trembling limbs. The boys hurriedly rushed over to her, signalling one of the other Serpents to check on the unconscious boy.

"Ali cat are you ok? What happened?" Fangs asked walking her over to the steps so she could sit down. Sweet Pea following close behind.

"I was trying to get to you so I could make sure Juggie would be ok. That you'd look out for him. But he grabbed me and when I tried to break free, he hit me." Ali choked, fighting back the furious tears that were threatening to ruin her make up. Ali never cried. She never allowed herself the luxury of showing her vulnerable side and she sure as hell wasn't about to let a bunch of Southside Serpents see it. 

"I'm so sorry Fangs. I just got spooked when he grabbed my wrist. Is he ok?" Ali asked with concern, glancing over to the boy who was slowly coming too.

"It's fine Princess. He had it coming any way." Sweet Pea replied. His voice was deep and chalky but something about the way he spoke made Ali feel as though he cared. "What happened to your back? Looks like you got hit hard."

Fangs moved her slightly so he could look. Spotting a pale blue mark the size of a large fist just below the left side of her rib cage. Ali shook her head waving it off. She had calmed down now and just wanted to get cleaned up and go back to the Open house to dance with Izzy.

"Look guys I'm fine it's nothing honestly." She stood up putting her usual bright smile back on and turning to face the pair. 

"Just promise me you'll look after Jughead, I know he's joining the Serpents. Toni told me. I just need to know that he's going to be ok and that someone else has his back as well. Then I can get out of your hair." She begged, her smile as bright and warm as always but her eyes were broken and desperate.

"I promise he'll be ok. Now you better go. Cinderella can't be late for the ball, now can she?" Sweet Pea replied almost smiling. Fangs had to stop his jaw from falling to the ground when Sweet Pea spoke.

"Cute. I'm no Cinderella but thank you." Ali retorted heaving a sigh of relief.

"You sure about that? All work and no play, sounds a lot like you if you ask me!" Sweet Pea remarked raising an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah but I don't need a prince charming to rescue me. Plus, I love my job." Ali called back before disappearing down the road on her bike. 

"Sweet Pea in case you've forgotten. We don't even know if Jones is going to survive tonight." Fangs reminded him as they made their way back to their bikes.

"He'll survive. He doesnt have a choice." Sweet Pea growled determinedly.

Ali arrived back at the open house just in time to catch Veronica, Josie and the Pussy cats performing. She waved at them as she made her way over to her little sister. Izzy looked up at her sister shaking her head and pulling a face wipe from her cream purse and handing it to Ali when she saw the blood on her forehead. 

Ali smiled accepting the wipe and cleaned the blood from her face. Mouthing a "Thank You" to her as she did. Looking back up at the stage she noticed a sudden wave of horror crash over Veronica's face as the girls gaze fell on the exit on the far side of the room. She turned to see what had her friend in such a state. Her heart froze when she saw her best friend looking very limp and out of it being carried by the one and only Nick St Clair.

"Izzy come with me NOW." Ali commanded pointing towards the exit Cheryl had just disappeared through. Izzy didn't even question it. She just followed her sister as she fought her way through the crowds. Bolting towards her bike the minute they were free from the mass of sweaty bodies. Closely followed by Veronica and the girls. Ali threw Izzy the helmet on the handle bar. Since Izzy had come by car her own helmet was still at the Pembroke. But Izzy's safety was far more important than her own. 

The girls flew down the road towards Nick's hotel skidding to a sliding halt and tearing into the building. Veronica and the girls hot on their heels. Ali's heart was racing a million miles an hour as she charged up the stairs. She knew that even in heels she was faster than the elevator. Cheryl was her closest and best friend in all the world if anything happened to her there would be hell to pay. Ali's wrath would put God AND Satan to shame. Veronica  was well aware of this as she bolted to Nick's room. She had to stop Ali from killing him. Even if he did deserve it. 

Ali slammed into the door but it was locked. Josie and Izzy quickly began looking for a way in. But Ali was already seeing red. With one ferocious kick she sent the door flying, splinters of wood soaring everywhere. 

Even in heels Ali put most men to shame when it came to kicking doors down. The girls were impressed. They crashed into the room tearing through it to Nicks bedroom. Where Ali found him stripping himself of his blazer and climbing on top of a very unconscious Cheryl. Ali wasted no time in throwing him to the ground. 

Dragging him to the next room before proceeding to punch him relentlessly. Blood covering her knuckles as she pounded his once handsome face with the wooden knuckle duster hair slide she always wore. Josie, Melody and Valerie struggled to drag Ali from the boy with the help of Izzy, who held her in a firm headlock. They were almost certain if she'd carried on, she'd have killed him. Veronica sat beside Cheryl checking her over. Wrapping her in a blanket as she slowly came too.

Izzy had managed to drag Ali outside the hotel room and was now struggling to hold her down. The others had left her with Ali so they could kick Nick in the balls several times for good measure. Ali's eyes had turned terrifyingly dark and she was becoming increasingly stronger by the second.

"Ronnie I can't hold her much longer!" Izzy shouted her voice wavering with fear of what her sister might do if she got free. 

"RONNIE SHE'S GETTING LOOSE!" Izzy screamed desperately pinning her sisters hands between her shoulder blades. Gripping as hard as she could with her knees as she sat on her sisters back holding her down. Josie ran out leaping down to pin Ali's inhumanly strong legs down whilst Veronica called the only person she could think of, Sheriff Keller. Within minutes of her hanging up there was the familiar sound of police sirens outside and Sheriff Keller bolted up the stairs followed by 2 of his strongest Deputies.

"Be careful with her. The only reason she's still down is because that's her sister holding her. If it was anyone else, I dread to think what she'd have done." Sheriff Keller warned as the deputies made their way hurriedly over to the girl on the floor. Flinching at every growling roar she let out. It wasn't the first time she'd been put in a holding cell to cool down. It was a rare occurrence that she lost her temper as savagely as this. Thankfully for the Sheriff it had only happened once before. However, to this day no one knows the full story behind what provoked such a full-blown flick of the switch. She had been found covered in blood sprinting down the road leading to Riverdale from Greendale barefoot. 

"She's not in trouble, is she? I just didn't know what else to do." Veronica panicked watching as the men struggled to control Ali who was now handcuffed and being dragged down the stairs as she fought to get back to Nick and finish what she started. 

"No, she's not in trouble. She'll stay in a holding cell for the night until she's cooled off and I'll deal with this mess tomorrow. For now though, I need to make sure my men aren't mauled to death getting her there. Is that ok? One of my deputies will be here in a minute to take statements and what have you." Sheriff Keller answered looking worriedly towards the staircase Ali had vanished down.

"I understand Sheriff Keller, we've got it here. Thank you for coming so quickly. I don't know what we'd have done if you hadn't arrived when you did." Veronica admitted before turning and making her way back to Cheryl leaving Sheriff Keller to deal with Ali.

The journey to the station was short but eventful. Ali had spent the whole journey trying to kick through the windows. It was well past midnight and apart from the occasional drunken ramblings, the station was surprisingly quiet. Until Ali arrived. 

The moment she felt the grip of one of her escorts loosen on her arm, she swung herself up wrapping her legs around the guys throat heaving him to the ground with a loud thud. Sweeping the legs from underneath her second escort as she spun herself back to her feet ready to take on the three officers charging towards her. Completely unaware of the pair of eyes watching from the shadows in a nearby cell. Ali was quick to jump on the shoulders of the first officer using the wall to launch herself higher, swinging herself down slamming the man, beer belly first to the floor. Before leaping up to kick the second man clean in the chest sending him crashing against the wall and head butting the woman behind him as he fell.

"Ali I'm sorry but you leave me no choice!" Sheriff Keller called apologetically before aiming his taser and firing at Ali who released a groan as she stumbled to the ground. Fighting the unbearable electric pulses with all her might. Once the Sheriff was sure she was completely out he quickly picked her up carrying her to the nearest empty cell and placing her carefully on the bench. Throwing a small blanket over her and a lumpy pillow under her head. 

"That was some fight you put up there!" An impressed voice applauded when Ali's eyes finally started to flutter open.

"Do you have to be so loud? I just got tazed in the ass and hit my head on the way down. I'm in enough pain without listening to your dumbass comments." Ali groaned covering her head with the scratchy blanket she had covering her.

"All I'm saying is those guys didn't stand a chance against you. Keller didn't even try he just pulled the taser out." The voice continued sounding amazed by Ali's performance.

"You, my friend, are a Master of the fucking obvious." Ali stated, drawing out the sentence to make sure they heard each and every syllable. Her strong English accent ring clear a whistle as she spoke.

"Easy tiger. It's not very often I dish out compliments." The voice chuckled. 

"What's a Northside Princess such as yourself, doing in a jail cell anyway? Shouldn't you be dancing the night away with Prince Charming?" The moment Ali heard those words she knew exactly who was talking.

"Oh god! I should've known it was you. Aren't you supposed to be doing some weird boy scouts initiation for Jug?" Ali groaned turning on her side to try and get comfortable.

"Got caught fighting after initiation." Sweet Pea replied nonchalantly.

"Well that was stupid. What did the guy do to warrant that?" Ali asked still trying to get comfortable but failing miserably with the pillow.

"He was disrespectful to a friend and then accused me of going soft. So, I proved him wrong. What's got you all riled up anyway?" Sweet Pea asked moving to lean against the bars separating the two cells.

"But you are soft. I can't see why Fangs would require a marshmallow to stand up for him." Ali answered, her voice deep and croaky from all the screaming she had done earlier. Making it worse as she sat up to try to mould her pillow into some form of comfortable shape.

"It wasn't Fangs I was defending and I'm not soft." Sweet Pea replied shortly watching as the girl struggled to get comfortable. "You haven't answered my question."

"Oh please, you're softer than puppies. Also, Toni can fight her own battles. So, why'd you step in?" Ali snorted slumping back against the wall finally giving up all hope of ever getting any sleep.

"Try this and answer the question Princess." Sweet Pea instructed taking off his Serpent jacket and folding it up before passing it through the bars of his cell to Ali. Ali gave the boy a confused look but accepted the jacket without hesitation after a stern glare from Sweet Pea.

"One of Veronicas old New York pals, Nick St. Clair, drugged my best friend and tried having his way with her. We got there just in time to stop it but barely." Ali reported emotionlessly. Lying back down using the perfectly folded jacket as a pillow, which was considerably comfier than the actual pillow. Sweet Pea could sense there was something behind her lack of emotions. Something about her body language and the way she spoke told him she was hiding something. Not from him, from herself. 

"Do you want the pillow? Its a piece of crap but its the least I can do." Ali offered pushing the pillow through the bars as she spoke. Sweet Pea nodded in thanks folding up the pillow and getting comfortable on the floor along the partitioning bars.

"Sounds like that Nick guy is a piece of work. You get any good hits in before they hauled your ass here?" Sweet Pea asked staring up at the ceiling, his eyes half shut.

"Not enough." Ali yawned, rapidly dropping off to sleep. A blanket of warmth wrapped around her as she inhaled the sweet scent of engine oil, leather and liquor from the jacket beneath her tired head. 

"Good night Princess." Sweet Pea muttered before closing his eyes and allowing himself to drift off to sleep.

[freetobeafcknriot]

☆ oinoya headcanons ☆

( ...that I originally posted on Twitter in the heat of the moment; sorry I’m not sorry at all. They’re quite a lot, so I’m gonna put them under the cut! As always, don’t like ship? Don’t read. )

They meet when Noya starts university and joins the volleyball team and wow, the sparkles in the first triage!

They kinda knew each other already because they played against each other in middle school and are both incredible players. The good-hearted competition is insane!

Oikawa tends to use the suffix -chan / nicknames even with people he doesn't know all that much. There are exceptions though; Noya is one of them (that's canon).

"OIKAWA-SAN!" "...Nishinoya-kun, right?" "Drop the -kun already!" he bluntly cuts him off. Then, in the blink of an eye, the libero's piercing glare shifts and melts into a look of awe and entusiasm. "Your serve was amazing just now! Next time, let me receive it again!"

That guy's impossible so okay, Noya-chan it is! They're teammates anyway and once they hit it off, it's actually endearing!

Started off by accident: it was raining, Oikawa ran into Noya (who didn't have an umbrella) right outside of a restaurant. Might as well dine, right?

Nishinoya hates small talk so awkwardness? Never met her!

Noya calls Oikawa 'Oika-san' at first. Switches to his given name after they start dating.

'Yuu-chan' is meant as a bit of a joke, but then it starts to hold more affection than what Oikawa would like to admit.

They don't use pet names all that often.

Usually, when Oikawa doesn't use any kind of honorific it means they're in the middle of something really intimate and important or that he wants Noya to seriously hear him out.

Noya speaks mainly through gestures and is a bit rough around the edges and not really into sappy stuff 'cause he gets flustered but I mean, he doesn't shy away from voicing his own feelings. He calls Oikawa 'babe' when they're being cocky during practice.

Like, they'd be on different sides of the net and then you hear him shout: "Bring it on babe!", and Oikawa, who's about to serve, will answer with a cocked up eyebrow and a sly, "Coming, hot-shot."

Yeah, hot-shot. 'Cause that's how his boy is: hawt.

• They bicker quite a bit (in childish way) and tend to rile each other up, especially on the court. 

Given their positions, there's no rivalry between them (...in volleyball, mind ya). There's just a whole lot of admiration.

• Nishinoya's admiration will probably dislocate one of Oikawa's shoulders someday, but heh, love is tough. 

And that's another thing: they have each other's back!

Noya's the hot-headed boyfriend who gets all protective, like, "Excuse you?! Got a problem? Come say it to my face, I dare you!" 

He will fight anyone if he has to. 

...doesn't gloat about it much though; Oikawa's ego is fine as it is.

He's supportive af (hella boisterous too) and always there cheering on Oikawa so fiercely, like, "BREAK A LEG, TOORU!" (pun unintended) or, "That serve was AWESOME!" or, "You're doing great!" [insert powerful slap on the backside] 

Can you feel the love? 'Cause I can!

Oikawa, on the other hand, is pretty cheesy an shameless and yes we know your boyfriend he's amazing Shittykawa now shut up. 

He knows Noya is admired by many people, and although he thinks he deserves it he also takes pride in being the one who gets the whole package deal.

He's elegantly smug about it, or so he likes to think. The truth is, he's not elegant at all.

They're neither opposites nor complementary, their personalities just mend so well though!

Noya is genuinely supportive and straightforward, Oikawa is reliable and attentive to a fault.

Oikawa gives Noya tips on how to toss better. He has his own way of doing it, but Noya almost never falls for it (also because tbh he often just doesn't get the irony lmao).

So ideally, that's how Watachi usually did it. But then again, compared to him you're quite small, Yuu-chan." "Hah?! D'you want me to kick you in the shin, Gulliver?"

The height difference is nice, jokes aside. Oikawa says that Noya's attitude could easily be measured as 6'2 and it's true and he finds it adorable and here's another reason why they're pretty physical, ladies and gentlemen.

Leaning against each other on the train because there's so little space and it's convenient? Check!

Hugs from behind? Especially in the morning? Check!

Picking your smol boyfriend up just for the hell of it? Double check!

Please, don’t ever say anything about Nishinoya’s small stature in front of Oikawa; the boy will look at you straight in the eyes and smirk, “Aw, trust me, he’s not as small as you think he is. At all.”

h e h .

They often train together outside of official practices and stuff their mouths afterwards.

Their dates are never boring, even when they just stay in!

Aquarium, roller-skating (Noya teaching Oikawa how not to fall on his ass), mall, planetarium (Noya can't stay quiet though), taking the train to go visit some city for the most varied reasons... anything really.

If they're in the city, Oikawa's the one to guide them (he knows how to read maps). Otherwise it's Noya, who is used to outdoors and has got an incredible internal compass.

Study dates are a thing but they usually take place at the library because Noya is easily distracted and Oikawa finds it cute, sure, but also quite unsettling. Like, he eventually snaps, why doesn't he ever worry? Where are his priorities? Is he even human?

He is, by the way. While not being a genius in school, Noya is pretty self-disciplined and we know he's pretty hard on himself, too. It's just that he balances it all with his attitude.

Oikawa, on the other hand, wants to be as good as he can possibly be and more. He's dedicated, he's pushing forwards to make his talent bloom and that's something that Noya deeply admires about him, even though he thinks (and says) that Oikawa is already talented.

Dates at home include cuddling, movies and TV series, stuff popping out of the oven that looked tasty on the internet, pillow fights, playful wrestling (Noya's fault), shenanigans we're not supposed to know about, conversations of any sort and more cuddling.

They enjoy going out to eat together even if they don't share the exact same taste in food.

Oikawa always manages to snatch one of Nishinoya's egg rolls and get away with it and given that Noya's got a bigger appetite let's be honest: if this isn't love then Idk what is.

Oikawa is one of the few people who can stand talking, eating and watching Nishinoya waving his hands around between a mouthful of food and a sentence (all of this at the same time) without getting a headache.

If you ask him, it's actually cute. Noya's talkative and expressive and he's witty, more mature than it seems and he makes Oikawa feel at ease, comfortable and carefree. Really, look at them and wonder at the high level of dorkiness (I might be making up words now, sorry).

They're both pretty observant and accepting. Oikawa has an analytical and restless mind, there is nothing he doesn't take note of as well as there is not knowing what is going through his head.

Despite all of this, Oikawa knows he has people who he can rely on though, and he actually trusts Nishinoya. The boy's bold and loud and energetic to a fault, but when nobody is looking it's almost scary how piercing and quick those eyes of his are.

The only thing he doesn’t trust Nishinoya with, it’s movies. They have very different preferences. While Oikawa loves sci-fi and films like E.T., Interstellar, Star Wars etc., Nishinoya is into action movies and basically anything that has him screaming his lungs off. Everyone knew Oikawa was serious about them when he came out with, “I found the perfect combination between my excellent taste in movies and, well, yours!”

Ended up being Mars Attacks! lmao.

Sometimes, they watch rom-coms together. Oikawa kinda likes them, Nishinoya doesn’t get the drama but still gets invested in them.

They’re not into the same exact music genre, really, but they once sang Wannabe (Space Girls) in the car. Dorks.

They're a weird mixure of being nosy/pushing and staying out of each other's hair when needed. Especially Noya, who's more independent from this point of view.

But when it's due, there is no escaping his intensively caring side. Oikawa can fight him as much as he wants.

They're both cuddly ~ So very cuddly!

Noya's restlessness made them roll off the couch once and Oikawa is pretty demanding and pouty when he wants to be, but it's really the warmest feeling in the world.

Oikawa's usually the big spoon since Noya's little and as snuggly as a koala(?). And a lot easier to deal with, too! 

Reason being his boyfriend's literal softness and sweet scent; cue Noya covering Oikawa in kisses. 

They switch though. Like I said, cuddle bugs!

Oikawa has got a bit of a habit of nuzzling Noya's neck when he's the one being held and because of his floofy hair, it always ends up like this: (x).

They do argue from time to time due to their different perspectives, but it never lasts aaaall that much. They're both pretty stubborn though. 

The key is communication. In this case, while Oikawa can have difficulties, Nishinoya doesn't, since he's so confrontantional.

This is to say that they're not perfect; they just care enough to be willing to compensate each other and meet in the middle. 

Also, they're pretty passionate, if you get my gist!~ (...don't look at me like that, they ain't kids).

Also, hand holding. A whole lot. 

Picture these two idiots talking all snuggled up while playing with each other's fingers. You're welcome. 

For real though, hands are probably their primary source of PDA.

Oikawa randomly petting Noya's head, Noya poking Oikawa's dimples; you name it! 

Next best thing: hugs.

It's flying hugs when it's Noya initiating because he will never stop jumping on people's back. He's a bit more considerate with Oikawa due to his knee.

Nishinoya hugs Oikawa every single morning for 21 seconds straight before jumping out wide awake and full of energy. The shot of oxytocin he gets works wonders far better than coffee.

Speaking of coffee, Oikawa is not a morning person. At all. He’s quite bitchy and needs a lot of time to get ready (and lookable, so he says).

Nishinoya makes coffee for him when he gets up first, but he’s not very good at it since he never drinks it and therefore has never had to make it. He’s improving though, and Oikawa appreciates the effort. 

Them icing their own knees late at night; Noya doing his best to massage Oikawa's knee with the essential oils in the gentlest way possible; Oikawa peppering Noya's colored bruises with small kisses.

Oikawa feeling comfortable enough to watch Area 51 documentaries while studying, glasses on and hair mussed, and Nishinoya letting him even though it's his own room because he's smitten and he knows it.

They're both cheesy and will shoot a random pick up line at each other that will result in laugher, sassiness or both. Other than that, they're the opposite of sappy; they're just dorks.

"I asked Kuro-chan to teach me this one!" He's got it written on his hand. "Are you made of copper and tellurium?" "Of what?" "Because you're CuTe!" "...Okay, the one he taught to me is: if I was an enzyme, I'd be DNA helicase so I could unzip your genes." "Kinky, Yuu-chan.~"

When they're not together (they're one year apart in university after all), they sometimes send a quick text or picture to each other. Just 'cause, you know.

Noya: "Do you think I'm pretty?" Oikawa: "No, you're too short and bossy and your nose is all funny."

( Spoiler alert: Oikawa thinks Nishinoya's the prettiest and he will eventually giggle and tell him so, seeing his adorably outraged face. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talks! )

[professionally-unprofessional]

Can I have a soulmate AU with a fem reader in 1-b and Jirou? The matching tattoos au would be cool, but I'd be fine with whatever!

Gosh I am on a ROLL with these requests recently xD

Wonder how long it’ll last.

Anyway, I’m sorry if the reader wasn’t what you expected or wanted. I didn’t really have anything to go on for their personality.

Oh, rather than just doing a matching tattoos AU I did a soulmate AU where whatever you draw not only appears on your soulmate but also on you.

Welp, I hope you enjoy. I actually enjoyed writing for Jiro a lot more than I thought I would.

“Whoa! Hey, what’s that on your arm, Jirou?” Mina called, leaning over the lunch table. The aspiring hero blinked in confusion then looked at her arm, wondering what her pink-haired classmate was on about. However, rather than blank skin, her gaze landed on a line that was slowly snaking its way down her arm. It was the beginning of their lunch break and the majority of girls from 1-A were sat down at a table together in the lunch hall.

“Oh, this? Guess my soulmate’s drawing again.” She hummed, wondering what you were going to come up with this time. This was a regular occurrence. Every so often you’d find a pen and just start letting your creativity flow. Much to Jirou’s relief, you didn’t take to drawing rude gestures all over your body but instead focused your creativity into pieces of artwork.

Well, at least she assumed you were the one drawing. In reality, she had no way to check, but the skill behind the pieces was fantastic nonetheless. Given that they never appeared on one arm and only places that would be visible to the artist, she would be willing to guess that it was you.

Either that or you had a super talented friend. Either scenario was fine.

The things that appeared were what really mattered since - should it be by your hand or not - there was no way you’d have just anything inked on you. No, you had specific themes. A lot of the time, instruments appeared and the thought that perhaps you liked music warmed Jiro’s heart. She found herself wondering about you far too often when things like these cropped up.

What genres of music did you like?

What sort of personality were you?

Aside from art, did you have any other big passions?

Were you an aspiring hero or someone going after a different career?

Who were you?

The girls were all leaning over the table now, watching as the line art slowly took form. Somehow, the intimate action of watching her soulmate drawing had become a game of Pictionary from her friends but, for some reason, the hearing hero didn’t mind. They were all being awed by you, her soulmate. The small spark of pride that kindled and warmed her was enough to stop her from finding somewhere private to watch.

When the shapes of a violin and cello took form, she knew you were doing another one of your musically inspired pieces. Normally you started at your hand with smaller doodles which then expanded as you worked further up the arm until they broke out around the top with something different. Whatever you started with was your theme and base and from there you just eased into a creative flow.

Yet this time, you had started from the top of your arm and Jirou knew what that meant. You were properly going for it today, having a full composition which was pre-planned and thought out. She was in for a treat.

She really admired your talent; to be able to do what you did just over their lunch break was borderline insane. Drawing on your own body was hard - let alone time-consuming. Then again, you’d started before they’d even sat down for lunch and you obviously practiced this hobby enough. Jirou allowed herself a moment to wonder where you were. You could be on the other side of the world. Or sitting in this lunch hall. However, given that you always seemed to be doodling when people from her age group were free, she’d hazard a guess that you were a student in Japan.

Somewhere.

From the violin and cello, you’d gone on to draw some lines where sheet music could sit wafting from the bow of the string instruments. The girls cheered as the drawing continued to take form. Once you’d drawn the outline for it, you went back to work on the detail for a few moments then returned to the score music.

They were all expecting you to put some decorative notes down but instead, you did a beautiful shape in calligraphy. ‘Y o u’ appeared on the bars and a hush fell over the girls. They watched as more curves took form along the inside of Jirou’s arm, Hagakure was holding her friend’s new canvas up for the others to see.

“You’re…. What?” Yao-Momo asked aloud from opposite her friend, seeming somewhat perplexed. Even the cool-headed creator was getting interested.

Mina let out a small squeal of excitement. “Do you think they could be trying to write something to you?”

Immediately the girls started chattering and the dark-haired heroine had to stop a blush from rising to her cheeks. You hadn’t tried to do anything like this before.

You were still working on other details, now throwing a flute and harp into the background. Mina let out a frustrated cry and Jirou smiled internally. Were you deliberately not finishing the writing?

What a tease.

Wait, did that mean… Did that mean you were watching from somewhere, knowing what was going on?

Feeling her heart rate pick up slightly at the thought that perhaps her soulmate was here in close proximity, the hearing hero raised her head and tried to see if there was anyone in the lunch hall drawing on themselves or being drawn on. She couldn’t see anything.

No groups of friends looking at them for reactions nor at one of their own with a pen. Damn.

“You’re p… Ahhh, what’re they going to say?” Mina cried, leaning even farther forward over the lunch table to get a better look. Jirou’s gaze immediately shot down to her forming temporary tattoo.

Indeed the beginning of another word had appeared next to the ‘You’re’ on the beautifully curving lines of the blank sheet music. This was too much! Why had she been landed with a soulmate who was such a tease? Deciding that she couldn’t take it anymore, she plugged her earphone jack into the ground.

Immediately conversations sprung into her ears but she focused and filtered past them. If she really concentrated hard enough and you were close by… perhaps she’d be able to find you.

None of the conversations in the hall were linked to art or soulmates. Okay then, time to try going a bit further.

It was faint, but she could hear something from outside. There was a familiar voice. Kendo! She was chuckling and talking to someone, reporting on a situation from… From a little way outside the hall! Focusing as intensely as she could without looking too immersed, she blocked out the noise from the hall and tried to hear. “…figure out… significant other is in UA… Are you… confess now…?”

She couldn’t hear any response, you must’ve given a physical response of some sort.

Looking back down, she took her jack out of the floor and heard all her friends cooing and crying out about how adorable her soulmate was. You’d done it, completing the little two-word sentence on her arm. “You’re perfect.”

She couldn’t help but smile at your little compliment. How sweet of you. Unable to hide her smile, she stood and scooted out of the little booth they’d been eating at.

“Hey wait, where are you going?” Mina cried out after her as she strode away.

“Leave her,” Momo smiled, watching her close friend go and the musician made a mental note to thank her for that later.

Lunch wouldn’t be going on for much longer. She was just glad that you’d done the ‘you’re perfect’ along the inside of her arm. Not that she wasn’t proud of it but she didn’t fancy everyone asking about it, especially not when it was too hot to be wearing the school blazers.

Feeling a tickling sensation on the unmarked inside of her wrist, the teen raised it to see what was forming.  “I… would… love… to… meet… you…”

How adorable. She cursed the fact that she didn’t have a pen on hand to communicate back. You’d just have to wait for her to get there. That’s if it was you with Kendo. It had to be!

If she’d been right with her quirk then you were just outside. If memory served too, there was a rather large tree there sheilding the spot from anyone in UA. It was the perfect little secluded spot. Turning the exact corner she’d visualised, she saw you in all your splendour.

You were sat down in the shade of one of the trees with your back leaning against the trunk. A set of washable tattoo pens were in the grass beside you and Kendo was stood, leaning against the tree with her usual easy smile. She’d been saying something encouraging from the sound of her voice and stopped when you appeared.

You looked up in surprise and Jirou finally recognised you! You were a student in 1-B. No wonder Kendo was here with you. You looked up and Jirou’s deep violet eyes met your pretty (colour) hues. 

You… had you always been so cute?

She remembered thinking that you were kinda attractive one time when they’d done joint training with your class but she’d been so focused on trying to get through the exercise that she hadn’t really had the time to admire you.

You were so much more gorgeous than she remembered.

A blush had crept up to your cheeks. Perhaps you’d been expecting her to write back and ask more questions or arrange a meeting. If nothing else, you certainly hadn’t expected your little plan to end like this.

Kendo smiled kindly and patted your shoulder. “I’ll leave you two to it.” With that, she raised a hand and walked off. That was the big-sister figure of class 1-B for you.

“Uh, hi.” And the award for the most award greeting goes to… Kyoka Jirou! At least she’d managed a small smile in an attempt to not look so scary. After all, you were looking like a deer in the headlights.

You managed to nod a little. “H-hey.”

It was then that the heroine’s eyes landed on the items scattered around you. She’d noticed the drawing utensils at first because of their colours against the green grass. Now she noticed what they were sat upon. It was a sketchbook and, on the page, she could just about make out various compositions for the piece you’d just executed.

“Did you draw all of those for this?” She breathed.

You nodded. “Sorry if it was a bit much… I didn’t really think my doodles were actually affecting someone else until this lunch. Shiozaki knew I was going to be drawing and when she saw you all getting excited about a soulmate tattoo she phoned Kendo and well…”

Moving forward, Jirou crouched and sat down on the grass in front of you. “No, it’s really cool. I like your drawings. You’ve got a talent.”

A blush crept up your cheeks. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

“Were you planning on writing that message regardless of who was going to see it?”

You shook your head. “Not particularly. I was going to write something different. I was going to write ‘Keep Smiling’ as a sort of positivity boost for my soulmate regardless, but when they said it was you…”

Kyoka found herself grinning slightly as you whined and hid your face in your hands getting too embarrassed to finish your sentence.

“I’ve had a crush on you since we did the training together.” Your muffled voice came out. “I thought it was bad… to crush on someone when it might’ve been my fate to be with someone else.”

She blinked in surprise. Had you liked her even without the soulmate system?

“Would you have said anything even if we weren’t soulmates?” She wasn’t sure why the question came out, it just did.

“If I could gather the nerve to confess, probably…” You grumbled and Jiro felt her cheeks warm from that confession.

A smile broke out on her face again. “You’re so punk-rock.”

You blinked then laughed softly and began to pack up your things. “I wouldn’t say that, but sure.”

“You’re totally badass!” She exclaimed catching your attention again as you paused from putting your sketchbook in your bag. “Do you remember the Chinese dragon you drew that snaked up your arm that time? That was really cool! And the Day of the Dead design you did on November 2nd last year with the cool decorative skulls?”

You nodded, recalling the designs. Had she really paid that much attention to your drawings? Gosh, those would look terrible if you saw them again now. Old artwork was often cringe-worthy albeit occasionally funny. It probably looked better in memory than it would physically. Thank goodness.

“You… really liked them that much?” You asked quietly, watching as she nodded. A smile crept across your face, lighting up your features. “Then I’d be happy to draw on you every so often. It’d be cool if I could draw on someone else. I’m sure it’d look a lot better!”

Jirou grinned back and agreed that she’d love that. How lucky she’d been to meet you today! She’d definitely thank Kendo and Momo when she next saw them. As the two of you sat underneath the tree, beginning to discuss your hobbies and get to know one another, she couldn’t help but let the happiness that was brewing in her fill her being to the core. Her cheeks even began to ache slightly from the fact that she couldn’t stop smiling with you.

She couldn’t help but watch the way your eyes sparkled as you spoke about being a hero and your dreams. Art was a hobby you used for stress relief just as she used music. Both of you passionate creatives in your own areas but able to understand and enjoy the dream of the other.

She’d found her soulmate and she’d been so blessed with someone so talented and kind.

As lunch came to an end and the two of you needed to get back to your respective classrooms, Jirou quietly gave you a small kiss on the crown of your head before waving goodbye; a promise on her lips that she’d see you again soon for that tattoo.

So in the shelter of your tree, away from prying eyes, you touched the spot on your head and smiled to yourself.

What a wonderful thing that had begun to bloom in front of your eyes. And this was only the beginning.

[buzzworddotie]

A Satisfying End to a never ending story: Game of Thrones

Oh god it's over. And the online journey has been so nasty but I'm dipping my toe into the scalding hot waters and presenting my feels on the final season of Game of Thrones.

Straight off the bat, I found the overall season really enjoyable. Was there a moment here or there when I wished to see something or I'd maybe nit pick a scene? Maybe on reflection but to absolutely in no way to ruin the season for me.

It was a blast, it was all of these characters we spent so much time with. (7 seasons of character development).

It was all leading to the end. And I think that hurt the show with the fans.

If this season had never been announced as the last and people watched it as though there will be more, it would be praised.

But parting is such sweet sorrow.... Anger fueling sorrow.

Regardless, here I go pissing people off...

Bran as King

Perhaps on of the most bittersweet character arcs of the show. Bran manages to give his siblings freedom, give the ruling of the 6 kingdoms to Tyrion and has to be trapped himself for eternity.

When you think back to season 1, you remember how free and full of life Bran was. He wasn't some meek little boy, he was fiery and energetic.

He dreamed of knighthood.

But first he loses his legs, then he loses his mind. Being the 3Eyed Raven has its perks but Bran is lost somewhere in there. And he can't escape.

And now he's King. He's trapped in another role.

But Bran only took that role so Tyrion could be ruler. No one was going to vote for Tyrion. History doesn't even remember him.

In fact, clock Ser Jamie's book entry, Tyrion is only going down in history as killing Joffrey. After everything he's done.

But maybe now he will get written in as hand of Bran the Broken?

Jon shoulda been King

Nope.

OK so maybe on paper it makes sense. But....

No one was voting in a Targaryan after all that mess.

Killing Daenarys may have saved them but Jamie Lannister did the same thing and people hated him for it.

Bran said he was always exactly where he needed to be. And Bran has seen it all. Bran is sending Jon north because he's saving him. It's where Jon belongs, with his second family. Tormond, the wildlings and Ghost.

Jon gets to be free and happy.

Arya's Faceless training was for nothing

Ehhh... Thanks to the training she literally saved the world. What more does she have to do? She used the faces to take revenge. Didn't she get told that's the exact opposite of what she should do?

Anyway, she did that. The more she started becoming Arya Stark and not "no one" she didn't need the faces. But she used the talents provided by all her mentors, The Hound, Syrio, Faceless Men...

The training wasn't just faces, it was movement, stealth... All that good stuff.

And she got freedom in the end, embraced her Stark side and got to go adventure. She said it's what she wanted, she told Lady Crane!

Daenarys heel turn was dumb

The problem that I think fuels this view is people think it was rushed or something. That she "went bad".

But the whole point was that's not what happened. She didn't lose her mind. She's been dillusional from the start!!

Maybe it wasn't the reveal you were expecting but the unexpected is good!!!

She literally had scenes where she looked like a Messiah! She has a god complex. And a nuclear weapon.

It's like if you watched a bunch of movies about Thanos and you're rooting for him but then he reveals his plot to destroy earth and you're just like, wait he's a bad guy? That's dumb in one movie...

Her ego has been fed since she was a child. And what is so so sad to see at the end was that she hadn't grown up.

She was still an innocent child who just believed she was right.

Jon Killing Daenarys - Dumb

Rewatch that scene knowing what you know now. Watch Jon beg her to not make him kill her.

He gives her so many opportunities to say something to show him a sign of compromise and reason.

It's what he's been all about. Free will. He believes in it. But she doesn't.

It was sad and beautiful and really, both actors did a great job.

Drogon's Reaction: Mixed.

I think everyone seems to like when Drogon first gives us Simba finds Mufasa tear jerker?

But part 2 reaction has some people salty.

Some I've spoken to can't understand why he burned the throne and not Jon...

Well Jon is Targ. Throne killed Dany.

Next are the people who get that and think it's dumb a dragon would get the concept of metaphor.

First, it's for entertainment purposes and secondly they told us before Dragons are intuitive and intelligent.

The whole season was utter Garbage

I think this show has garnered such a creative community. A community who are able to make weekly, video essays about it. It's insane. Like good insane.

But guys, just because you don't get your way, doesn't mean you get to ruin it for everyone else.

Going off on one and throwing a massive tantrum is sad and a serious buzzkill for such an epic show to be ending.

I mean, do people really need an apology?! Seriously?! A rewrite?

You know when you're in a shop and you see a kid who is way too old to throw a tantrum but goes off on one? Thats the equivalent to how grown adults are behaving right now.

If you've made it this far

If you've made it this far I clearly haven't triggered you.

And so I would like to just thank the writers, producers and cast of this show. The directors, editors, cinematographers. The composer.

Every fucker who for a long ass time had to work on this show, from the crew in marketing to the interns. Just bravo.

This show has been an experience that I don't think will get recaptured to this scale in my lifetime. Good stuff will come, stuff will get hype but it's the entire community and passion for the show that is amazing.

That passion from fans unfortunately can lead to disappointment. But it shouldn't, you should let yourself accept the story they have told and let yourself enjoy it.

It really really isn't as terrible as you want to believe it is.

And I really, really loved it.

Also, thanks to all the fans who made all the content I consumed!! Great work.

[stedes-black-bonnet]

My Baby Does Me: Chapter 17

POV: John Deacon x reader

Notes: ongoing fic; we try to update twice a week, more depending. Tag list? We have one. Hi friends! Requests?

Warnings: Lots of Roger-esque swearing

Abstract: Roger wants to make the speed of light out of this place; Deacy and reader share a hot space.

Roger Taylor knew what was going on here. During his thirty-some years, he had discovered the hard way just how easy it was to underestimate a man with an insanely high emotional intelligence; underestimating him tended to occur more often than he’d like to admit. He frequently wondered if it was his appearance, his high-pitched voice, or his talent that made people think he was just another pretty face, some blond model with no brain. That couldn’t be farther from the truth, and he had fought his entire life so far against that ill-assuming tide. He was shrewd. A multi-instrumental musician, songwriter, fashion icon (he’d like to think, anyway) should be well-respected among his peers. Maybe it was his temper? He was in touch with his emotions more than anyone else he knew; Freddie frequently said he was the emotional equivalent of a night at the opera. Roger couldn’t dispute this. He was proud of his emotional range and stubbornly believed his emotional prowess linked strongly to his emotional empowerment and vulnerability. For his emotional transparency was vulnerability of a very specific sort: even if he wasn’t sharing it with anyone in particular or sharing it with everyone in particular, it was still targeted, specific, and intentional openness.

For a man so deeply in tune with the emotions of the people around him and his own emotions, it was a new experience for him to find himself not united with his own current desires and his self-imposed limitations. This was causing him serious problems. Everything related to an emotional state for him. It was his core. Emotions were the road map he used to understand his own existence. Right now, he had either lost the map or torn it up in a fit of anger. His carefully created veneer of denial was crumbling. And try as he might to glue the delicate pieces back together, he was failing at every turn. Denial, an emotion like any other, was his shield. Denial protected him from what he was not ready to feel, confront, and process. As anyone who knows what it’s like to live a predominantly emotional life, it is exhausting, and safety measures, escape routes, and panic rooms must be utilized to keep the peace.

The ability to hide emotions until the appropriate time to deal with them was part of having a high emotional intelligence. Some people couldn’t read other people’s emotions to save their lives; you put a gun to Roger’s head, and he’d be able to identify the emotional ranges and feelings of anyone around him; he’d make a great foreign agent, he thought. The FBI, maybe; he could profile a bitch faster than most people took to tie their shoes; this was because of his perceptions and emotional intelligence; sure, Brain was just brilliant, but could he read a room’s emotions and play everyone in it? Probably not, Rog figured. The ability to recognize when certain emotions were right for certain situations was his wheelhouse. This didn’t mean he paid any attention to what he knew was appropriate, however. Having knowledge and using it were two vastly different things. Half of the fun was to be found in reading a room full of people, knowing what they wanted or expected, and giving them the exact opposite, giving them what they didn’t even know they wanted, and changing their minds with the swagger of his emotional charm: this was power. And it was better than any drug, and almost better than sex.

Right now, however, Roger had little control over himself and his own emotions. Reading the interior of his mind and heart, every alarm was going off in unison: FLY AWAY RUN AWAY.

This was Lydia’s fault, he angrily thought. Sure, being in touch with his emotions didn’t mean he was always honest about what he was feeling. Especially regarding love, falling in love, being in love…. No—

That’s not what’s happening here. Fuck that, he thought very loudly, trying to convince himself. Focus. But not on her—not on Lydia. Fuck. Bloody fucking fuck. Focus on Deacy and Y/N.

He placed his hands on either side of the door frame. One up higher, one down lower. He wore his too-fancy-for-the-occasion black tuxedo stripe pants, his too-dressed-down-for-the-occasion white classic tee shirt, a pair of over-worn high-tops, and what could only be a black fur coat of Lydia’s. It smelled like her, and he savored--NO NO savoring fucking nothing here. He peered at you and Deacy from behind his sepia circular prescription sunglasses. He was, essentially, too cool to be allowed. Roger Meddows Taylor was synonymous with illegal behavior. His blue eyes popped out from his tinted glasses as he surveyed the scene before him.

He effortlessly read the emotions on both of your faces. Every glance you and Deacy sent each other, every hesitant touch, every “accidentally” intentional touch, every unspoken word was a clue for Roger, and he was a bloodhound. There was a dreamy quality to your olive eyes that smacked of infatuation and confusion—no not confusion, Roger thought. It was more of an ignorance is bliss kind of emotional vacuousness he associated with early, blind love. He tried to not roll his eyes and tried desperately to not think of Lydia, with whom he was having his own blind feelings—STOP that bloody well right now. Deacy has this hopeful dewy glow that had nothing to do with sex and sweat. Pure joy, Roger thought. Pure fucking undivided, maybe even not fully registered, joy. Ah, to be young and in love—Roger banged a fist on the door frame, suddenly. His smile still stays on, whatever happens pain and fury would fuel his waning denial.

Roger saw your flushed face spark a look of concern at the quick eruption of his fist speaking what he would not give voice to yet. He continued to take in your haphazard dress and twisted tights, and Deacy’s barely zipped pants, and felt a keen sense of deja vu. We’ve already been here tonight. Get a room, he thought, he’d like to get a room with Lydia. Maybe every room. WHAT the fuck is wrong with me? He hated himself more than he hated the idea of Deacy’s new Queen record. He smashed his fist into the door frame again. Fuck. Focus. Fuck.

These details, NOT HIS EMOTIONAL DETAILS, he reminded himself, your clothing and glancing details, HOWEVER, told him a lot about you and your night. He hadn’t even had to witness it first hand, and he knew the landscape of your night like he knew every wink, every breath and beat of every time signature.

It was clear to Roger you both hadn’t actually had full on sex yet. Sure, you had experimented, licked and touched, kissed and felt, but he’d put serious money on the fact you hadn’t been penetrated and Deacy hadn’t cum. Fascinating and boring simultaneously. That’s got Deacy all over it.

He and Deacy liked games, similar flavors but completely different goals and power structures. Deacy’s was inherently equal with delaying of certain actions, while Roger favored a flat out war of equals where everyone got precisely what they wanted assuming, of course, they could negotiate it. Both had a hard time finding compatible partners because of this. It was easy to settle, especially for Roger, for a night of climaxing fun with a beauty just to feel close to somebody. Yet, it was never as fulfilling as sex with someone who wanted what you wanted too.

Lydia could negotiate her way around a room full of cats, or room full of blind people without breaking a sweat or running into anyone or setting anyone or any cat off course. She was good. Fantastic. Challenging. Formidable. Roger was a sauntering sapient, a fucking loudmouthed, dirty disaster. The denial kept slipping away from his talented grasp. God, I know we don’t talk, you tend to mess things up, but fucking help me, he thought. FOCUS.

If you and Deacy had actually had sex, he figured, you two wouldn’t be pawing at each other whenever anyone turned around or left you alone for more than a few minutes. Your and Deacy’s emotions were spilling out of your hands; he had seen it before. Fuck, he was going through it himself. Right now. In front of you and Deacy. Fuck, he thought.

“What—No self-control, mates?” He said, shaking his head at the two of you, while his own voice slightly shook, higher than normal.

“Coming from you that’s a laugh.” Deacy retorted.

Roger grinned, walking up to you. He sweetly and shamelessly planted a chaste kiss on your cheek. He turned to Deacy and mock-begrudgingly placed a kiss on his cheek. “Do try to get some sleep, children.” Leaving between to you both, he flashed a peace sign (best case scenario, worst case he was telling himself to fuck off) behind him as he walked down the stairs. Instead of his rainbow-sequin blazer, he had acquisitioned a fur coat, you recognized as Lydia’s; it was high summer, yet here he was, fur coat and all. Roger Taylor was the anomaly of a sudden blizzard smack dab in the middle of June.

The Blond God would try to control even the seasons, you thought. Maybe he already did. You couldn’t tell if his behavior had been erratic or normal, so you weren’t particularly concerned, and Deacy didn’t look worried, so you decided to let it slide and ignore it.

“I live with Lydia.” You explained to Deacy, satisfying the floating, unspoken question in the air. “And if I thought when I woke up this morning Roger Taylor and John Deacon would be in our apartment, I definitely would have done the dishes.”

Deacon laughed, kissing your cheek, “dishes are overrated.”

“Did you just claim my cheek back from Roger?”

“I did, yes.”

“Jealous?”

“I prefer possessively keen.”

“Is it okay if we do a tour later?” You asked, entering your apartment with a laugh. “I’m exhausted.”

“I’m more interested in your bedroom.” Deacy confided. “I can't stop now that we’ve started the whole thinking out loud confiding in each other thing.”

“It’s like I’m living in my own sitcom.” You said, swerving Deacy past several room towards the very back of the apartment.

You paused at the door to your bedroom, your sanctuary. Sharing this space had always been excessively private for you. You were about to let a man into the most secret areas of your life. He’d be free to explore and witness all the hidden dreams and trinkets to which your entire existence amounted. It would make you an open book, in a sense. This was a big step. And it was happening the same night you met.

Deacy, sensing some of this on your face, said “Before I owned my own home, my bedroom was all I had. Letting someone into that space took time for me. We don’t have to go in there if you’re not ready. The sofa would be accommodating, I’m sure.”

“I’m ready. It means a lot to me, this space. Sharing it with you will be my honor. I'm just trying to remember if I tidied up before leaving for the party…”

“Well, m’lady, when you see my home I’m sure you’ll understand just how little I care about neatness.” Deacy had affected a bow and brandished the door open for you.

Turning on the light, the first noticeable piece of furniture was your upright piano. Tried and true it had been your friend through many sleepless nights, more than you could count. There for you when no could understand you, when words failed you, there was always this: you could return to the music, and it would save you. You had a makeshift desk, a rather large dining room table in a corner. It was strewn with sheet music, text books, and a rotary phone. You had an enormous blackboard hanging on the wall behind your large bed. Musical notations were scribbled on it in half-asleep hurried handwriting. To the right of it on the wall was an even larger bulletin board with more stable notations pinned to it. You had a deep plum-colored armchair next to a window with a high stool next to it serving as an end table. A old cup of tea was resting on it from earlier in the day; several tabloid magazine rested under the cup. A record player was in the corner by the door, several albums rested in a very wide floor-to-ceiling shelf next to it. It was the tallest, largest piece in the room. A collection built over careful years of curating your tastes and passions. A bench in front of the bed had a rustic conifer-colored throw on it. The bedding was deep maroons and rusty oranges. Several dresses were layered on the bed, some inside out some discarded. The window was open, and slight breeze made the gauzy curtains twirl in the very late night, or exceptionally early morning. The floors were a dark-colored hardwood, with a simple beige area rug to finish it off. The closet was insignificant compared to the colorful and varied clothes covering the floor of it, obscuring several pairs of shoes while doing so. It was your favorite room in the apartment, besides the kitchen, and the bathroom’s fantastic antique claw-foot tub.

Deacy hadn’t said anything yet. “I know it’s not much,” you said, “but it’s mine and—“

“I love everything about it. It’s everything you love and are perfectly condensed into one space. I’m not sure what I expected, but this is you; it’s flawless. If you find me in the middle of the night looking at your record collection, you can’t blame me; it’s better than my own.”

“I get that a lot.” You laughed. Deacy gave you a look, one eyebrow raised, all innocent curiosity. “Oh, not from men I’m sleeping with, just people who know my interests and have heard of my collection.”

“Your collection is quite prodigious…” His hands fluttered past a row of plastic sleeve covers, making that all too specific soft clicking sound.

“You were gonna add for someone my age, weren’t you?” You asked playfully.

“I was and thought better of it; ten years isn’t too much.” He added, softly touching a few keys on your piano.

“Not to obsess over, no; and, I’ve decided it doesn’t matter to me.” You smiled at him, putting an end to that topic hopefully for the duration. “I don’t really have any pajamas for you to wear. Turn around while I change into mine?”

Deacy looked at you like maybe you were joking; his eyes squinted and his face angled as if trying to detect your humor through his chin. He put his hands over his eyes, then peeped through them slyly yet obviously.

“Really! Deacy! We haven’t seen each other naked. Close your eyes!” You were laughing as you said it, though you were quite serious. There was something sacred to preserve here, you thought. Some innocence to be stolen away if he saw you naked now and not during intercourse. It would be so anticlimactic for the first time you see someone naked was when they were struggling to put on their flannel bottoms, and not during some all out sexual to-do. He obeyed this time, to the letter, and kept his eyes shut until you had finished changing. “Okay, you can look now.”

He opened his eyes and smiled at you in the same way he had been smiling at you the first time he saw you: he was captivated. You were wearing a matching flannel set. Nondescript and routine. Yet he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

Was that love, he thought?

He began undoing his necktie, making sultry eye contact the entire time. He placed it on the armchair. He methodically unbuttoned each button of his blue shirt, removed it, and placed it on the armchair. He had a white tank top on under it, and that he kept on. He removed his black oxfords and red jeans next. His polka-dot boxers where sufficient pjs, you thought. Decorum was satisfied this night, though for how much longer, you weren’t sure. It would be hard enough to sleep in a bed next to Deacy without trying something. You had little hope you’d make it through the night.

You began removing the clothes from the bed, tossing them in your closet. You turned down the bed together and climbed in together.

Deacy reached out and took one of your hands in his, and happily held it, waiting to see if you had anything else to say besides your sleepy good-nights. You turned to him, moving in close, draping a leg across his, and laying your head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around your waist, breathing in the scent of your hair, and twirling a strand in his nimble fingers. Your soft snores were the only music he needed.

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