the reason battinson would be the ideal batman to give a robin is because he has the right mindset to think appropriate activities for 8 year olds include crime fighting
nah but tick, tick...boom! is genuinely one of those films that is gonna stick with me for a long time -- idk what it is but there's something relatable about feeling like you're growing up too fast but too slow and that 20-something-panic about choosing between you want to do and what you need to do. the line that andrew garfield walked with his embodiment of jonathan larson between being a creative genius and being naive was fucking beautiful
“When you send me for a role and it says ‘South Asian, his name is Raj’ … I say ‘I don’t fucking want it.’ And then the next one comes in and it says it doesn’t have a race. ‘This is John. 30s. Handsome.’ … When it says that, I want that fucking role. So I want to take from the majority. That’s the only time I think about race.” —Rahul Kohli on Blackman Beyond podcast
I was about to say how dumb this idea was in retrospect because of COVID. Then I realized this was pre-pandemic and am mentally incapable of processing the fact that two years ago lockdown was just. Not a thing.
Agent Jimmy Woo watching the news and realizing that fun asian superheroes were running around back in san francisco while he was stuck trying to convince a white woman not to hold thousands of innocent townspeople hostage and torture them
chapter seventeen: i’m single and incapable of mingle
part eighteen of sudden desire
pairing: marcus pike x original female character (coraline meyer)
word count: 1.8k
warnings: angst! brief mentions of pregnancy?
author’s note: i’m so so so sorry i’ve been awol; i’ve been looking for a new flat and i swear every free moment has been wasted on that! i also know this chapter isn’t too long so i apologise that it’s not entirely worth the wait!
She asks him one night over a movie.
Coraline had picked it — some new horror film she’d wanted to watch, and is definitely upset she never got to audition for, though she’ll never admit that as she watches the actress’ unhinged performance in awe — and he’d made dinner for them both, for the first time in a while, because they’d eaten enough takeout to last anyone a lifetime.
“Did you like him?” She questions. It’s sudden, and out of the blue, the moment the credits start to roll and she’s broken free of the hold the movie had her in. “James, when you met him?”
Marcus nods. Just once. “He’s nice.”
Cora’s teeth worry her bottom lip. “But did you like him?” She repeats, with far more urgency. She leans to place her plate on the coffee table, and turns her entire body towards him.
“Cora, why does it matter?” He mirrors her movements. Places his plate on the coffee table and turns all the way towards her. It’s impossible for either of them to avoid the other’s gaze. Marcus leans his arm against the back of the sofa.
“I need you to like him,” she whispers, dropping her eyes to her hands.
“Of course I like him.”
Her shoulders drop in relief. “He asked me to marry him,” she tells him. But she can’t bring herself to look up at him.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fucking fuck.
He sucks in a deep breath, as quietly as he can, so that she can’t hear him. “Coraline, that’s incredible!” He insists. He feels as if he’s just been punched in the gut a thousand times; as if he’s just been told he’s dying. Maybe he is.
It feels like he is.
Coraline lets out a soft exhale through her nose. “Is it?” She manages to glance up at him but it’s a half-hearted stare. There’s conflict in her eyes.
“Is it not?” Marcus’ brows pinch together.
Coraline presses her palm to her forehead and sighs. “He doesn’t want any more kids.” She sighs.
“And you do.”
Cora’s shoulders fall. “I can’t have kids, Marcus.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I have six miscarriages to show for it. I do know that,” she insists.
There’s a beat of silence. Coraline’s gaze falls back to her hands.
“Did you say yes?” Marcus’ question comes as a whisper.
She chews at her lower lip, soi hard that he’s surprised she doesn’t draw blood. The remnants of that day’s lipstick have faded almost beyond recognition, to barely a chewed smudge of colour across her lip. “I said I would think about it.”
“Just make sure you’re sure, okay?”
“I thought you’d be happy for me.”
“Oh, Sunshine, of course I’m happy for you,” Marcus insists, drawing himself closer to Cora and her drawn figure. He reaches up and brushes a thumb over her cheek, drawing a blush across her skin. Her face feels flush to the touch and he watches her; searches her eyes for any sign of reluctance or worry or concern, for any sign of certainty at the thought of marrying James. “I just want you to be sure of what you’re giving up.”
She watches him, too. She watches him right back.
Because it isn’t as if she hasn’t thought about it. About what it all means.
I’m giving up on you. You and any future we have.
It’s all she could think about the night he proposed. It kept her up all night, for hours and hours and hours, hours that seemed to stretch on for days. All she could think about was him. Him and what they have - or, rather, that they almost had. For those few months, living in blissful domesticity, like each others’ house was their home. That unspoken agreement between them.
Maybe there was more there that she’d been too blind to see. Maybe there’s still more there, lingering deep within them. Unflinching and persistent.
Maybe in another life.
Maybe in some other time.
Another sigh. It rattles her bones, nearly breaks her ribs in its intensity. There are tears in her eyes; she tries not to let them fall, tries to forbid them from tumbling down pale cheeks and onto her dress. But, still, they fall. “Well, I have Bea and Piper-“ She tells him. She can’t seem to break away from his stare; even when she blinks, those few moments of darkness that obscure the sight of his coffee-coloured eyes, she still feels the weight, the searing, burning heat of his gaze on her face. He brushes away her tears, like he always does.
He settles her against his chest, like he always does. And Coraline falls into him, lets his embrace consume her, like she always does. And he kisses her head, like he always does.
There’s something to be said for consistency, but sometimes she worries that it hurts them more than it helps.
They could stay this close forever, in a limbo, but it would be good for neither of them.
“Coraline-” He cuts her off before she tries to justify herself. “-if you’re happy, then I’m happy.”
And he is - and he will be - happy for her. But his heart is still breaking, all the same.
…
He’s not sure how he ended up pouring his heart out to Loren Hull, but over the last few weeks he’s spent hours waxing lyrical about how he’s definitely, definitely, definitely not still in love with Coraline Meyer.
They’d run into each other at the grocery store — he’d been buying salad, because despite her lack of culinary skill Cora would kill him if she found out he wasn’t eating his greens at work; Loren had been buying the same, and ice cream, lots and lots of ice cream — and, after the topic of Coraline’s recent engagement had been raised between her two best friends, she’d noticed the way his smile faltered. She’d prodded and poked at him, insisted he tell her why he looked so horrified at the idea, even despite him saying he’s okay.
He’s sure she already knew — maybe Coraline knows too, and she’d been the one to tell her that, ask her how to handle it when someone loves you but you don’t feel the same — but maybe she just wanted some confirmation.
He’d told her that he thinks James is great; he is, and he’s good for Coraline. He makes her feel special and loved and she smiles when she talks about him. And that’s what she deserves, someone who loves her. But Loren had promised that she never smiles with James as much as she does with Marcus.
He’d never noticed before.
Though he’d only met him twice.
It had almost been enough to inspire false hope.
Rationally, though, cynicism had won out and he’d realised that he was stuck pining after his best friend. His best friend who definitely, definitely, definitely didn’t feel the same way. He can live in a fantasy and pretend he doesn’t love her so much his heart aches at the mere sight of her, or even that maybe she feels the same way and someday she’ll kiss him and say that it’s been him all along.
Both sound like terrible ways to die. But they sound better than living with the reality.
She knocks on his door at 8pm with a sleeping Maisie in her stroller. There’s a scowl on her face as he opens the door - half-hoping he’ll see Coraline, but knowing he probably won’t - and it almost strikes fear into his soul. She doesn’t even wait for an invite, just pushes Maisie’s stroller through the open door and turns to Marcus with her hands on her hips.
“What’s wrong?” He questions as he clicks the door closed.
If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she was here to hit him. But he steps back regardless, in his best attempt to avoid her wrath.
“What’s wrong?” She snaps, still scowling. “Coraline. That’s what’s wrong.”
Marcus freezes. Dread washes over him. “Is she okay?”
Loren crosses her arms. “You haven’t spoken to her in two weeks, Marcus.”
He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. He needs a haircut - it’s all too unruly, a mess of curls over his ears - but he’s been so distracted lately, throwing himself recklessly into his work, that he just can’t bring himself to find the time. “She’ll be happier without me,” he murmurs, after a while.
“Will she?” She snaps, “Because she seemed pretty fucking miserable yesterday.”
He groans and sits on the arm of his couch. His head drops into his hands. “I just-”
Words seem to die on his tongue.
“Look-” Loren bends over to check on Maisie for a moment, repositioning her blanket before stepping away from the sleeping toddler. She stands in front of Marcus with her hands on her hips. “-I know how you feel about her- and god knows it can’t be easy- but come on.”
Words still fail him. He runs a hand over the stubble on his jaw. He groans and drops his head.
Loren pokes him in the arm with her elbow, urging him to shuffle over to allow her space on the couch arm. She perches beside him. “She does love you, Marcus,” she tells him, patting his leg. “I swear she does.”
“I know-” He inhales sharply through his nose. “-but not like I love her.”
“Are you kidding me?” She chuckles. “I’ve known her since kindergarten, and I’ve seen her fall in love before-”
“Don’t, please.” He sighs. “I can’t- I just need to move on.”
“But moving on doesn’t mean ignoring her.”
“I don’t mean to,” he groans.
“Call her,” Loren insists. She hears Maisie stirring, shuffling around inside her stroller, and reaches out to rock the buggy back and forth gently, to lull her back to sleep. The shuffling stops after a few moments of languid rocking. “Just one phone call.” She prods him in the side. “I know you miss her, too,” she urges.
He misses her so much that it’s almost painful. Life without Coraline Meyer is fucking miserable, it’s not one that he wants to live. He’s putting himself through this horror in the name of self-preservation, in some ridiculous attempt at avoiding a third heartbreak, because he seems to have this habit of falling in love with the wrong women. With those who don’t love him back, those who can’t love him the way he wants, the way he loves them.
He’s beginning to wonder if it’s just a burden he has to bear, for the rest of his life.
Maybe he can endure it for a while, if it means keeping Coraline in his life.
He’ll call her again in the morning, invite her out for coffee and an apology, and pretend like the goddamn love of his life has never been anything more than a friend.
Do you like enemies to lovers because it’s hot or do you like enemies to lovers because you think of yourself as unlovable & unworthy of love and therefore like the idea of someone seeing all the worst in you right away and still falling in love with you anyways
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