(no subject)
GUYS I HAD ABSOLUTELY NOTHING BETTER TO DO, AGAIN.
I'M BEGINNING TO THINK THIS IS A GOOD THING, Y/Y.
ANYWAY, I HAVE HERE THE WORST FIC I'VE EVER WRITTEN CLOSEST THING I COULD GET TO THE TELEPATHY FIC THAT PEOPLE WERE TALKING ABOUT IN PREVIOUS ENTRIES.
TITLE: BRADLINA: WARRIOR PRINCESS.
RATING: R, BECAUSE COLIN'S MIND IS A POTTYMOUTH
WARNINGS: NONE, BECAUSE, YOU GUYS CAN DO WORSE.
SUMMARY: IT STARTS GETTING WEIRD WHEN COLIN WAKES UP FROM DREAMING OF LARGE-BREASTED, LEATHER-CLAD WOMEN ELICITING PIERCING SHRIEKS.
PART 1/?
IT'S A PRETTY MUCH ORDINARY DAY OF FILMING UNTIL IT ISN'T, BOTH COLIN AND BRADLEY FINDING THEMSELVES IN A SITUATION NEITHER OF THEM REALLY EXPECTED.
NOW, YOU SEE, THE UNUSUALNESS OF THE SITUATION ISN'T ALL THAT UNUSUAL GIVEN THE TYPE OF SHOW THE TWO ACTORS CURRENTLY STAR IN.
IN FACT, THE OCCURRANCE SEEMED SO LIKELY, NEITHER BOY SHOULD HAVE REALLY BOTHERED TO EVEN WINK AT IT.
EXCEPT THEY DID. THEY WINKED A LOT (GRANTED, THERE WAS A LOT OF BLINKING, SLIGHT HORRIFICATION, AMUSEMENT, AND VAGUE EMBARRASSEMENT AND CONFUSION TO GO WITH THE WINKING, BUT I DIGRESS).
IT STARTS GETTING WEIRD WHEN COLIN WAKES UP FROM DREAMING OF LARGE-BREASTED, LEATHER-CLAD WOMEN ELICITING PIERCING SHRIEKS. HE SOON REALIZES, HOWEVER, THAT THE SHRIEKING IS COMING FROM THE BATHROOM, AND IT'S JUST BRADLEY IN THE SHOWER. COLIN IS CERTAIN THAT THE SHRIEKING IS MEANT TO BE SINGING, BUT AT THE DECIBELS BRADLEY IS REACHING HE'S EVEN MORE CERTAIN HIS EARS WILL BLEED IF BRADLEY DOESN'T SHUT UP SOON.
"GO ON, GO ON, MAKE ME LOONG FOR YOOOUR KISS," BRADLEY SCREAMS, ALONG WITH VARIOUS SQUEAKING AND THUMPING NOISES COLIN DOESN'T REALLY WANT TO THINK ABOUT. INSTEAD, HE THINKS, MAKE ME LONG FOR YOUR DEATH, MORE LIKE.
"THAT ISN'T VERY NICE, COLIN," BRADLEY CALLS FROM BENEATH THE SHOWER SPRAY. "YOU'D MISS ME FAR TOO MUCH."
COLIN PAUSES IN STUFFING A PILLOW OVER HIS HEAD. HE IS ALMOST POSITIVE THAT HE'D BEEN THINKING, NOT SAYING HIS LAST SENTENCE, MUCH LESS SAYING IT LOUD ENOUGH FOR BRADLEY TO HEAR THROUGH THE DOOR, OVER THE ROAR OF THE SHOWER, AND OVER THE GENERAL ANNOYINGNESS OF HIMSELF.
BUT APPARENTLY, HE DID. AFTER A FEW MOMENTS, COLIN REALIZES WITH A HEAVY GROAN THAT HE WASN'T GOING TO FALL BACK ASLEEP. SONOFABITCHBRADLEY, INTERRUPTING MY FUCKING SLEEP. NOT EVERY FUCKING DAY WE DON'T HAVE TO START FILMING UNTIL LATE MORNING.
"I KNOW, ISN'T IT GLORIOUS? SUCH A WONDERFUL DAY TO BE ALIVE, ISN'T IT, COLIN," BRADLEY ANNOUNCES, BOUNDING OUT OF THE BATHROOM WITH A TOWEL WRAPPED AROUND HIS HEAD, ANOTHER IN HIS HAND.
COLIN BLINKS. HE MUST BE MORE TIRED THAN HE THOUGHT, BECAUSE APPARENTLY THE FILTER BETWEEN HIS BRAIN AND HIS MOUTH ISN'T WORKING TODAY. HIS MUSINGS ARE INTERRUPTED BY A GIRLISH MANLY YELP HE IS EMBARRASSED TO ADMIT WAS HIS OWN WHEN COLIN FINDS HIMSELF ON THE RECEIVING END OF A PARTICULARLY NASTY RATTAIL. BRADLEY CACKLES STUPIDLY AND CARELESSLY THROWS THE TOWEL TO THE FLOOR.
"UP AND AT 'EM, COL', WE'VE GOT QUITE THE DAY AHEAD OF US. I GET TO FIGHT BUCKBEAK TODAY," BRADLEY'S VOICE SAYS, SOMEWHERE WITHIN THE CLOSET THEY HAVE TO SHARE. COLIN GROANS MORE, CURLING INTO THE FETAL POSITION. HMM, RED SHIRT, BLUE SHIRT. RED SHIRT, BLUE SHIRT?
"DOESN'T MATTER, BRADLEY, YOU'LL JUST BE IN COSTUME ALL DAY. JUST THROW SOMETHING ON," COLIN TELLS HIM FROM BENEATH HIS PILLOW, EYES SHUT AS TIGHT AS POSSIBLE.
"WHAT?"
"JUST WEAR THE BLUE ONE. WHATEVER."
SHOCKINGLY, BRADLEY IS SILENT.
COLIN WAITS.
"... HOW DID YOU KNOW I WAS PICKING BETWEEN THE BLUE AND THE RED?" BRADLEY ASKS, AND COLIN SCRUNCHES HIS EYEBROWS AND WRINKLES HIS NOSE.
"BECAUSE YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT IT." MORE SILENCE FOLLOWS. BRADLEY STEPS OUT OF THE CLOSET (LOL), HOLDING TWO SHIRTS.
"...NO, I WASN'T. I WAS THINKING IT."
COLIN SITS UP, THEN, AND IN A STUBBORN HUFF THROWS OFF HIS COVERS. "BRADLEY, I FUCKING HEARD YOU SAY IT." MOTHERFUCKING PRAT.
"I AM NOT A 'MOTHERFUCKING PRAT', COLIN, YOU HAVE THE WORST LANGUAGE EVER. AND PEOPLE SAY YOU'RE SO NICE---" AND THEN BRADLEY REALIZES COLIN'S LIPS NEVER ACTUALLY FORMED THE WORDS.
THEY BOTH THINK, OH SHIT, THEN SAY IT OUTLOUD WHEN THEY HEAR EACH OTHER'S VOICES IN THEIR HEADS.
AT ONCE, COLIN IS ON HIS FEET (WELL, AFTER A SECOND, BECAUSE HE TRIPS IN HIS BLANKETS AND ENDS UP ON THE FLOOR FOR A FEW SECONDS), AND HE AND BRADLEY ARE POINTING AT EACH OTHER.
"THERE IS NO WAY THIS IS POSSIBLE," COLIN WHISPERS, VOICE RISING AN OCTAVE ON THE LAST FEW WORDS. "IT'S JUST IM-FUCKING-POSSIBLE." APPARENTLY NOT, HE HEARS BRADLEY SAY, NO, THINK, AND HE LETS OUT ANOTHER MANLY YELL.
"STOP YELLING, COLIN," BRADLEY SAYS, CLAMPING HIS HANDS OVER HIS EARS. "IT'S HARD ENOUGH TO THINK WITHOUT YOU SCREAMING BOTH YOUR WORDS AND YOUR THOUGHTS." FOR A LONG MINUTE, COLIN HAS A HARD TIME BELIEVING THAT BRADLEY, OF ALL PEOPLE, IS MAKING ANY SENSE OF IT, UNTIL HE IS REASSURED WHEN BRADLEY STARTS TO PULL AT HIS HAIR.
"OH MY GOD, I CAN HEAR WHAT YOU'RE THINKING."
"NO SHIT, SHERLOCK, I THINK WE'VE GOT THAT PART FIGURED OUT," COLIN GROUNDS OUT, WADDING HIS BLANKETS INTO A BALL AND THROWING THEM BACK ON THE BED. BRADLEY PACES FOR WHAT FEELS LIKE FOREVER, MUTTERING INCOHERENTLY.
"FOR GOD'S SAKES, COLIN, STOP THINKING FOR LIKE TWO SECONDS SO I CAN THINK," WHICH COLIN REALLY DOESN'T THINK BRADLEY OUGHT TO HAVE THE BALLS TO SAY. FINALLY, BRADLEY STOPS MOVING, AND PINS HIM WITH A CALCULATING STARE. COLIN RAISES HIS EYEBROWS.
"THERE IS ONLY ONE WAY TO KNOW FOR SURE THAT WE'RE SUDDENLY TELEPATHIC." COLIN STARES BACK AT HIM. "WHAT? LOOK, JUST BECAUSE I'M TRYING TO FIGURE THIS WHOLE BLOODY MESS OUT DOESN'T MEAN--" BRADLEY STOPS AT THE HAND COLIN HOLDS UP.
"CALM DOWN. I'M JUST WAITING FOR YOU TO CONTINUE."
"OH. WELL." BRADLEY RUBS A HAND OVER HIS CHIN, EYEING COLIN UP AND DOWN FOR ENTIRELY TOO LONG. COLIN CROSSES HIS ARMS OVER HIS CHEST UNCOMFORTABLY. "ON THREE, WE THINK, NOT SAY, WHOSE ASS IS OUR FAVORITE."
COLIN NEARLY FALLS TO THE FLOOR. "WHAT. .....WHAT. SERIOUSLY, BRADLEY? THAT'S THE ONLY WAY TO TELL IF WE CAN READ EACH OTHER'S MINDS? AND WHAT ASSES ARE WE SELECTING FROM?"
BRADLEY LOOKS DISGRUNTLED. "I DON'T HEAR YOU THINKING OF ANYTHING OTHER THAN 'STUPID PRAT' OVER AND OVER." COLIN SIGHS ALL PUT-UPON. "AND I DON'T CARE, THE CAST."
"WHATEVER. IT CAN'T HURT, THOUGH I DON'T REALLY SEE HOW IT'S GOING TO HELP." HE TAKES A BREATH. "ON THREE, FAVORITE ASS."
"ONE." THEY SQUINT ONE EYE AT EACH OTHER.
"TWO." BOTH FIRMLY SHUT THEIR MOUTHS.
THEY NOD ON 'THREE', AND AT THE SAME TIME COLIN THINKS YOURS BRADLEY THINKS MINE, AND THE TWO BOYS CLAMP THEIR HANDS OVER THEIR MOUTHS. COLIN DOES TO KEEP FROM EXPLODING IN LAUGHTER, AND BRADLEY'S EYES ARE THE SIZE OF DINNER PLATES AS HE GASPS IN SHOCK.
"WELL BLOODY MERLIN'S BOLLOCKS," BRADLEY STAGE-WHISPERS, MUFFLED FROM BEHIND HIS HAND, AND JUST AS COLIN THOUGHT HE'D REGAINED HIS BREATH, THE IRISH BOY DOUBLES BACK OVER IN LAUGHTER.
I'LL CONTINUE THIS TOMORROW, I'M ABOUT TO DROP DEAD. <3