#and I just watched the pilot and holy shit did they manage to pack a lot in it!

[desirableendings]

The X-Files’ Pilot has everything. Alien abductions. Scary woods. The pinnacle of nineties fashion. Rainy sexual tension. David Duchovny looking like that. Family drama. A tragic backstory. Graveyard digging? And the most interesting choices for practical effects.

#the x files #have I ever talked about my relationship with the x files? because it’s kind of a funny story #the x files is like my dads favorite show of all time. or at least it was for most of my childhood #and my childhood was the epitome of dvds so my dad got every season on dvd. which meant that it was always on #like in the background. so I kinda ‘watched’ it growing up. but also not really. because I watched some episodes #some incomplete. most of it I don’t remember. not the details. but I know the general idea of it. I know milder and scully and aliens #and I remember more towards the end because I guess I was older by then and more likely to remember #so long story short. one of the goals of this year is to actually watch the x files. like for real in order #and I just watched the pilot and holy shit did they manage to pack a lot in it! #don’t know why I expected like some casual supernatural intro #not straight up alien abduction. but hey. I think it was great #I want more #so stay tuned for more casual posts about it

[allronix]

Carth and Force Sensitivity (crossposted from Reddit r/kotor)

This is for @k-she-rambles:

Okay, so while we're shooting the bantha crap over on KOTOR fan theories, u/134340Goat mentioned my all time favorite "Have you been chewing spice?!" fan theory when it comes to KOTOR: Is Carth Force Sensitive?

So this one starts with a story. I mentioned my brother in law, who is pretty much Keeper of the Jedi Archives. Seriously, he's an English teacher and my sister is a librarian. They met at a sci fi convention and their first date was Phantom Menace. We're taking not just geeks, but geeks who can throw the damn bookshelf at you. Brother in law bought KOTOR on the day it launched and turned it into a week long binge watch at his house. And because brother in law is that kind of geek, he's translating the characters into the West End D6 system. I'm watching him do a playthrough, and he's got Canderous and Zaalbar at Ajunta Pal's tomb.

Allronix: Huh. That's odd. Why aren't commenting on anything when Ajunta is speaking?

Bro in law: Oh. They can't even see Ajunta. You have to be Force Sensitive to see a Force Ghost The stronger your Sensitivity, the better you can see it.

Allronix: Really? Then how come Carth can see it?

Bro in law (gets the "holy shit, I gotta confirm this" look): Really?! He just sees something out the corner of his eye or something?

Allronix: No, he sees Ajunta just fine. Understands what the dude's saying too.

Bro in law instantly rolls back to his last save, swaps Zaalbar for Carth, and sees the bit in question.

Bro in law: Oh. Dear. (Goes over to make some quick scribbles on Carth's character sheet)

Okay, so maybe that was a lore fail. I didn't really think about it too much until I hit that False Level Up glitch and ran around with Carth and Mission as Sentinels. Now, while I couldn't really see Mission as a Sensitive, that little bit with my bro in law nagged at me. And became a "once you see it you can't unsee it." Apologies to TV Tropes, where some of these were my additions to the Wild Mass Guess entry on this topic.

Any one of these on its own is pretty easy to blow off. After all, man is career military, and knows All this Shit is Weird. I also like to think of Sensitivity as a spectrum and not a switch. If all life is connected by the Force, then all life would be Sensitive to some degree or another. It’s just a matter of to what degree. It’s only as the list gets longer and longer does the case start looking damning...

What are the odds of surviving that attack on the Endar Spire, getting to the escape pods, sharing the last escape pod with the mindwiped Sith Lord, piloting through the chaos, landing in what passes for the "good" part of town, remaining uninjured, pulling the badly injured mindwiped Sith Lord from the wreck, evading Sith detection while all this is going on, and just happening to find a dump of an apartment where the landlord's not asking questions? That is one amazing string of coincidences and good luck. Get that many in Star Wars, and it's definitely The Force sticking its nose in things.

Piloting the escape pod to land in the Upper City, piloting the Hawk through the Sith Blockade of Taris, the random Sith patrols, the escape from the Leviathan, and the fleet around Lehon along with the crash landing that left the ship easily repairable. Now, compare to Atton who we know to be an excellent pilot and drawing on The Force who still manages to crash the ship at least three times.

He's a scary good judge of character if you're interacting with other NPCs. If you watch him with other NPC characters, he's got a pretty good compass as to which characters are being helpful and which ones are full of shit. The only one he calls incorrectly is Rukil, who is probably also an untrained Sensitive (the age, the "marked" comments) and half senile, which is probably throwing him.

Related to that, his distrust and wariness about something not adding up with the PC, the Jedi Council feeding the party a line of bull, that things just aren't adding up. And on all of it? Dead on. He's 100% right about the Player Character, he just expected something a little less crazy than "that's Darth freaking Revan."

If you play Female Revan, then Carth's the one who gets fried in the torture cages on the Leviathan. Saul comments how strange it is that Carth takes so much punishment and still remains conscious. Now, this is a low level thing, but in lore, Force Sensitives have drawn on it to keep them alive or conscious under duress. Explicitly, the first sign we got that Leia was a Sensitive when she withstood the Imperial torture droid.

Another of his scary ass judge of character feats? In the comics, Zayne (who is on the run from the Jedi, who framed him for the murder of his classmates) has a vision that Mandalorians are coming for Serroco. Saul? Laughs it off, throws Zayne in the brig. Zayne's own friends don't even believe him. Carth gets one of those creepy hunches and starts calling in "duck and cover" sirens as far as he can broadcast, which sends seventeen cities and millions of people heading for shelter. It saves their lives and Carth is called a hero for it. Armed with another hunch, he disobeys Saul (remember this is before Saul nukes Telos) and lets Zayne "escape" from custody. Mind you, not even the Jedi or his party members believed Zayne. Carth did.

Carth makes a lot of creepy weird offhand predictions about the future. He says he knows on some level he'll be there when Saul dies. That certainly pans out. He makes an offhand prediction that the Jedi have set the party up to take a fall. Right again. He tells a female PC that she'll have to make a choice soon, one she can't walk away from. And then we get the temple top. He even blurts out that "I sensed you would have to make a choice soon, and that was it*, I can feel it!"* If you specify a LS Female Revan, his recording for T3-M4 says he's had a hunch Revan would leave without warning. Again, spot on.

Specify a LS male Revan, and Carth will remark to Bastila that seeing the Exile reminds him "there are worse things to lose." The only other people who can see just how screwed up the Exile is are the Jedi Masters, Chodo Habat, and the Force Sensitive party members.

Specify a LS female Revan, and Carth will insist that he would know if Revan were dead (again, scary ass intuition) and that there's an "emptiness" where she used to be. Now, remember one of the things about a broken Force Bond? It would simply be "empty, a wound."

You know how your party members in KOTOR 2 feel upset or even horrified as they realize they feel compelled to protect Exile and can't being themselves to leave, even when said actions are kicking puppies? And how they swing wildly from being crazy, almost stalker level possessive of them to being scared out of their wits and clamming up when you try to pry anything out of them? And the more potent (and untapped) their Force Sensitivity, the more they get hammered with the effect? (Mira and Atton in particular) Yeah. Now, Carth's "I don't wanna talk" looks a bit different, doesn't it? It could also account for that romance arc, especially if you roll a DSF Revan and go for that "everyone dies" ending.

Again, Ajunta Pal. Seeing a Force Ghost? Yeah. Some degree of Sensitivity needed. Understanding what he's saying? Yeah. Takes a bit more than that. And Carth makes a weirdly insightful comment about the Dark Side on top of it.

Notice that this a wall o text argument already, and I'm now just getting to the "Yeah, his kid is able to throw around mid-level Dark Side powers and packing a red lightsaber." Given the jawline and the muleheaded attitude, no way Morgana was fooling around with the pizza delivery boy. That's definitely Carth's kid, and that's definitely Force Sensitivity. Now, while it can skip a generation (see Theron Shan), it tends to run pretty heavy in families.

Lastly? Gee. He comes from a planet settled by and heavily populated by descendants of Force Sensitives who failed their training. I'm also willing to bet some bastard children of Jedi get passed off as "foundlings" and "orphans" and dumped there, too. Jedi are forbidden attachments, but not sworn to celibacy, so...yeah, bastard kids are gonna happen. There's probably a Jedi or two in that family tree. It's circumstantial evidence at best, but it still supports the case.

Now, any arguments I missed? Counterarguments?

And the million credit question: If there's a character who gets to break this news to poor Flyboy, who do you think would actually take that on? How do you think Carth would take that kind of news? And what, if anything, would come of it?

I kinda figure Jolee might be the only one nuts enough to poke that with a stick...I also kinda figure "Sentinel" would fit best. Consular? Hell no. He hired Mical for that. Guardian works with the feats, but the whole "ferreting out deceit and injustice?" Yeah. That's Carth.

#KOTOR #Carth #fandom meta #Carth Onasi

[fanficshiddles]

Caught in his web, Chapter 38

Chloe bit her tongue and tried not to look at Loki on the journey to the private runway. He was looking far too handsome for her poor mind and body to cope with.

Loki always managed to look smart, even when he was dressed down. He was wearing a light blue shirt, top few buttons undone, with his sunglasses propped on top of his head all ready for when they got to Greece.

‘Did you remember your migraine tablets?’ Loki asked.

Chloe’s face dropped. ‘Shit!’ She panicked, she had forgotten to pack them.

Loki raised an eyebrow at her and smirked. ‘Good job I remembered just before we left then, isn’t it? They’re in my bag.’ He chuckled.

She relaxed and sighed. ‘Oh thank god! Thank you…’ She said sheepishly.

‘What would you do without me?’ He grinned.

‘I’d be lost without you.’ She said in a teasing tone, though she wasn’t sure what she would do without him actually…

But it still didn’t ease her slight anxiety about being completely alone on an island with him.

They arrived at the private runway and Chloe’s nerves returned when they got out of the car and started walking towards the jet.

‘Alright, doll? You look like you’re going to pass out on me.’ Loki took hold of her wrist and stopped her, he turned her towards him.

‘I’m… fine… Just haven’t flown before, a little nervous.’ She admitted.

Loki frowned and brushed her hair behind her shoulder, he placed his hand just below her collarbone. ‘You never told me. Maybe you should take one of your migraine tablets once we get on, just to be on the safe side. If you get a little stressed. Are you scared of heights?’

‘No, not really. I mean, I wouldn’t like to be on the edge of a tall building type of thing. But I don’t think I mind heights.’ She shrugged.

‘Come on then, I think you’ll enjoy it. You’re perfectly safe with me.’ Loki assured her and took her hand, giving her a squeeze, they continued on to the jet.

Chloe completely forgot all about her flying nerves when they got on the jet. She couldn’t believe how luxurious it was. Although, she really shouldn’t have been surprised. This was Loki, after all.

There was a couple of double beds through the back for longer flights. As well as a spacious bathroom. A bar up front and a small kitchen for cooking some basic meals. Of course, Loki had a stewardess who came along on all flights to do all that for him and his guests.

The seats were big leather chairs that reclined. And large TV’s opposite each one, with headphones. At the other side of the jet was a row of three tables with seats around them, to make it easier for eating at if decided.

‘Holy shit. This is… I don’t even know what to say!’ Chloe was in utter awe after looking around and sitting down on one of the chairs. ‘Can we just like, fly around for the entire weekend and live in here?’

Loki laughed and sat down next to her at the window side. ‘You’ll get to experience this plenty of times, on longer flights too. No worries there. Providing you enjoy it, that is. We haven’t even taken off yet.’

‘Surely it’s just like being on a bus or a train?’ She asked, getting comfortable.

‘During the flight, yes. It’s better. But take off and landing is not to everyone’s liking. Remember and take one of your pills.’ Loki reached up and pushed a button. Two seconds later, a stewardess came along.

‘What can I get for you, Sir?’ She asked politely with a smile.

‘A bottle of water, please.’

Chloe blinked in disbelief that Loki hired someone to get whatever they wanted while on the flight. When the stewardess returned with water for Chloe, Chloe looked at Loki with a smirk as she took one of her tablets.

‘What?’ He raised an eyebrow at her.

Chloe shrugged as she put the lid back on the bottle. ‘I’m just looking forward to seeing how you survive without having someone at your beck and call for longer than an hour.’ She grinned.

Loki laughed and reached out to slide his hand behind her neck, stroking over her skin softly. ‘Well, I have you to be at my beck and call.’ He winked at her and leaned in to kiss her.

‘I’m not your slave.’ Chloe said with a smile when he removed his lips from hers.

‘Oh, are you not? That’s such a shame… Here was me thinking you were my sex slave that I could pay in orgasms.’ Loki chuckled, his tongue poked out to wet his lips, highly distracting her.

Before Chloe could reply with something smart, the pilot announced they were about to start take off procedures.

‘Seatbelt on, doll.’ Loki said, doing his own.

The click of her seatbelt made her nerves flood back. This was it. She was about to experience flying for the first time ever… And she had no idea what to expect.

It was all ok as the jet made its way down the runway. Then it started to speed up… And her stomach started to feel funny. She was gripping the arm rests as if for her life and her knuckles were turning white.

Loki took her hand in his and rested it on her lap.

‘Thanks.’ She said, her voice a little shaky.

The jet finally took off, the feeling was so strange for Chloe. She squeezed Loki’s hand tightly, he thought at one point she was going to cut off his circulation.

As the jet started to level out once they were high enough, her grip started to ease. But she still didn’t want to let go quite yet. So Loki rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb, making her skin tingle a little. As it always did now from his touch.

When it was safe for them to take off their seatbelts, Chloe was a bit unsure at first.

‘It’s alright, doll. I promise. If there’s any turbulence then we need to put them back on. But we can move around, do whatever you like.’ He assured her, taking his own seatbelt off.

Chloe took hers off, following his lead. Loki motioned to the window at his side, smiling when he saw her eyes widen as she leaned across him to take a look, leaning on his thigh for support.

‘Holy shit! We are so high up.’

‘Indeed.’ Loki chuckled, stroking her hair back out of her face. He enjoyed the way her face had lit up, now she was relaxing more and enjoying the view.

Chloe felt pretty comfortable being in the air. She had a feeling she could get used to it, very easily. Loki had the stewardess make them some lunch, which was delicious. There was a little turbulence at one point, but it didn’t last long and Chloe didn’t find it too bad.

Loki was just relieved it wasn’t really strong, which it could be sometimes.

They were about halfway through their flight, just watching a film together on the TV on front of them. Chloe was resting her head against his shoulder and had her arms wrapped around his arm. But then he started nuzzling into her hair, watching less and less of the film.

‘How would you like to join the mile-high club?’ Loki asked suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows when Chloe looked up at him. His eyes were full of pure mischief, making her stomach flutter.

‘Uhm… I… Maybe…’ She said, flustered.

Loki chuckled and leaned over, his arm slipped around her to keep her in place. He started kissing her, his tongue slipped into her mouth. While he took her breath away, he sneaked his free hand under her dress and slowly worked up her thigh, until he found his goal.

He reached inside her knickers and growled into her mouth, finding her slightly aroused already for him. He started teasing her gently, working her up nice and slow.

Chloe sighed into him, his fingers always felt amazing. She wasn’t sure what she preferred… them, his tongue or his cock. All so skilful in their own way.

She gripped onto his arm, not sure what else to hold onto. Her head fell back in a light moan as he circled her clit, slowly getting faster. Loki used the hand that was around her middle and brought it up to the back of her head, turning her into him so he could kiss her again.

But it was Loki’s turn to get a little surprise when she reached down and started to squeeze him through his trousers. He gasped into her mouth and chuckled.

‘Very eager to join the mile-high club I see.’ He smirked against her lips.

She just whimpered in response when Loki slowly inserted two fingers into her, making sure she was prepped for him. He kissed her deeply, his cock hardening under her touch. It was starting to get uncomfortable, still trapped.

‘Come on, doll. Hop on.’ He said in a rush as he leaned away, unbuckling his belt.

While he was getting himself sorted, Chloe quickly slid her knickers down and off. Leaving them on the floor on front of her chair.

Then as soon as Loki pulled his cock out, Chloe was clambering onto his lap straight away. Loki gripped her hips and helped to guide her down onto him, both of them moaned together as he filled her up. She sank right down and he held her still, letting them both adjust. But not for long.

Loki skimmed his hands up and down her back as she started moving on him, grinding back and fore, keeping him as deep as possible to hit all the good spots inside her.

‘Ohhh yes, doll. You always feel so delightful around my cock, so tight and warm. All mine.’ He growled deep, scratching down her back that made her arch forward and moan loudly.

She leaned forward to bury her face into his neck and wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him tightly as they both rocked back and fore.

Loki prayed to the Gods that there would be no turbulence until they were finished. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to let her go back to her own chair even if there was some.

Luckily there wasn’t any interruptions. Loki completed himself into her with a groan and dug his fingers into her sides, likely to leave bruises. But he always came so hard when he was buried inside her. Chloe was quick to follow, cumming just as hard.  

She went completely limp on his lap and didn’t want to move, at all. Loki trailed his fingers up and down her spine, enjoying the lovely little shiver he got out of her. He was still nestled nicely inside of her and he was quite happy keeping her there.

‘I can’t move.’ She whispered against his neck.

Loki chuckled. ‘No need to, darling. We have plenty of time before descending.’

#Loki #Tom Hiddleston #caught in his web #fan fiction

[imagine-loki]

Caught in his web, Chapter 38

TITLE: Caught in his web CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 38 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki is a crime lord, a very dangerous man in the city. He is owed money, but the man is unable to pay Loki back, so Loki takes his daughter as payment instead.  RATING: M

Chloe bit her tongue and tried not to look at Loki on the journey to the private runway. He was looking far too handsome for her poor mind and body to cope with.

Loki always managed to look smart, even when he was dressed down. He was wearing a light blue shirt, top few buttons undone, with his sunglasses propped on top of his head all ready for when they got to Greece.

‘Did you remember your migraine tablets?’ Loki asked.

Chloe’s face dropped. ‘Shit!’ She panicked, she had forgotten to pack them.

Loki raised an eyebrow at her and smirked. ‘Good job I remembered just before we left then, isn’t it? They’re in my bag.’ He chuckled.

She relaxed and sighed. ‘Oh thank god! Thank you…’ She said sheepishly.

‘What would you do without me?’ He grinned.

‘I’d be lost without you.’ She said in a teasing tone, though she wasn’t sure what she would do without him actually…

But it still didn’t ease her slight anxiety about being completely alone on an island with him.

They arrived at the private runway and Chloe’s nerves returned when they got out of the car and started walking towards the jet.

‘Alright, doll? You look like you’re going to pass out on me.’ Loki took hold of her wrist and stopped her, he turned her towards him.

‘I’m… fine… Just haven’t flown before, a little nervous.’ She admitted.

Loki frowned and brushed her hair behind her shoulder, he placed his hand just below her collarbone. ‘You never told me. Maybe you should take one of your migraine tablets once we get on, just to be on the safe side. If you get a little stressed. Are you scared of heights?’

‘No, not really. I mean, I wouldn’t like to be on the edge of a tall building type of thing. But I don’t think I mind heights.’ She shrugged.

‘Come on then, I think you’ll enjoy it. You’re perfectly safe with me.’ Loki assured her and took her hand, giving her a squeeze, they continued on to the jet.

Chloe completely forgot all about her flying nerves when they got on the jet. She couldn’t believe how luxurious it was. Although, she really shouldn’t have been surprised. This was Loki, after all.

There was a couple of double beds through the back for longer flights. As well as a spacious bathroom. A bar up front and a small kitchen for cooking some basic meals. Of course, Loki had a stewardess who came along on all flights to do all that for him and his guests.

The seats were big leather chairs that reclined. And large TV’s opposite each one, with headphones. At the other side of the jet was a row of three tables with seats around them, to make it easier for eating at if decided.

‘Holy shit. This is… I don’t even know what to say!’ Chloe was in utter awe after looking around and sitting down on one of the chairs. ‘Can we just like, fly around for the entire weekend and live in here?’

Loki laughed and sat down next to her at the window side. ‘You’ll get to experience this plenty of times, on longer flights too. No worries there. Providing you enjoy it, that is. We haven’t even taken off yet.’

‘Surely it’s just like being on a bus or a train?’ She asked, getting comfortable.

‘During the flight, yes. It’s better. But take off and landing is not to everyone’s liking. Remember and take one of your pills.’ Loki reached up and pushed a button. Two seconds later, a stewardess came along.

‘What can I get for you, Sir?’ She asked politely with a smile.

‘A bottle of water, please.’

Chloe blinked in disbelief that Loki hired someone to get whatever they wanted while on the flight. When the stewardess returned with water for Chloe, Chloe looked at Loki with a smirk as she took one of her tablets.

‘What?’ He raised an eyebrow at her.

Chloe shrugged as she put the lid back on the bottle. ‘I’m just looking forward to seeing how you survive without having someone at your beck and call for longer than an hour.’ She grinned.

Loki laughed and reached out to slide his hand behind her neck, stroking over her skin softly. ‘Well, I have you to be at my beck and call.’ He winked at her and leaned in to kiss her.

‘I’m not your slave.’ Chloe said with a smile when he removed his lips from hers.

‘Oh, are you not? That’s such a shame… Here was me thinking you were my sex slave that I could pay in orgasms.’ Loki chuckled, his tongue poked out to wet his lips, highly distracting her.

Before Chloe could reply with something smart, the pilot announced they were about to start take off procedures.

‘Seatbelt on, doll.’ Loki said, doing his own.

The click of her seatbelt made her nerves flood back. This was it. She was about to experience flying for the first time ever… And she had no idea what to expect. 

It was all ok as the jet made its way down the runway. Then it started to speed up… And her stomach started to feel funny. She was gripping the arm rests as if for her life and her knuckles were turning white.

Loki took her hand in his and rested it on her lap.

‘Thanks.’ She said, her voice a little shaky.

The jet finally took off, the feeling was so strange for Chloe. She squeezed Loki’s hand tightly, he thought at one point she was going to cut off his circulation.

As the jet started to level out once they were high enough, her grip started to ease. But she still didn’t want to let go quite yet. So Loki rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb, making her skin tingle a little. As it always did now from his touch.

When it was safe for them to take off their seatbelts, Chloe was a bit unsure at first.

‘It’s alright, doll. I promise. If there’s any turbulence then we need to put them back on. But we can move around, do whatever you like.’ He assured her, taking his own seatbelt off.

Chloe took hers off, following his lead. Loki motioned to the window at his side, smiling when he saw her eyes widen as she leaned across him to take a look, leaning on his thigh for support.

‘Holy shit! We are so high up.’

‘Indeed.’ Loki chuckled, stroking her hair back out of her face. He enjoyed the way her face had lit up, now she was relaxing more and enjoying the view.

Chloe felt pretty comfortable being in the air. She had a feeling she could get used to it, very easily. Loki had the stewardess make them some lunch, which was delicious. There was a little turbulence at one point, but it didn’t last long and Chloe didn’t find it too bad.

Loki was just relieved it wasn’t really strong, which it could be sometimes.

They were about halfway through their flight, just watching a film together on the TV on front of them. Chloe was resting her head against his shoulder and had her arms wrapped around his arm. But then he started nuzzling into her hair, watching less and less of the film.

‘How would you like to join the mile-high club?’ Loki asked suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows when Chloe looked up at him. His eyes were full of pure mischief, making her stomach flutter.

‘Uhm… I… Maybe…’ She said, flustered.

Loki chuckled and leaned over, his arm slipped around her to keep her in place. He started kissing her, his tongue slipped into her mouth. While he took her breath away, he sneaked his free hand under her dress and slowly worked up her thigh, until he found his goal.

He reached inside her knickers and growled into her mouth, finding her slightly aroused already for him. He started teasing her gently, working her up nice and slow.

Chloe sighed into him, his fingers always felt amazing. She wasn’t sure what she preferred… them, his tongue or his cock. All so skilful in their own way.

She gripped onto his arm, not sure what else to hold onto. Her head fell back in a light moan as he circled her clit, slowly getting faster. Loki used the hand that was around her middle and brought it up to the back of her head, turning her into him so he could kiss her again.

But it was Loki’s turn to get a little surprise when she reached down and started to squeeze him through his trousers. He gasped into her mouth and chuckled.

‘Very eager to join the mile-high club I see.’ He smirked against her lips.

She just whimpered in response when Loki slowly inserted two fingers into her, making sure she was prepped for him. He kissed her deeply, his cock hardening under her touch. It was starting to get uncomfortable, still trapped.

‘Come on, doll. Hop on.’ He said in a rush as he leaned away, unbuckling his belt.

While he was getting himself sorted, Chloe quickly slid her knickers down and off. Leaving them on the floor on front of her chair.

Then as soon as Loki pulled his cock out, Chloe was clambering onto his lap straight away. Loki gripped her hips and helped to guide her down onto him, both of them moaned together as he filled her up. She sank right down and he held her still, letting them both adjust. But not for long.

Loki skimmed his hands up and down her back as she started moving on him, grinding back and fore, keeping him as deep as possible to hit all the good spots inside her.

‘Ohhh yes, doll. You always feel so delightful around my cock, so tight and warm. All mine.’ He growled deep, scratching down her back that made her arch forward and moan loudly.

She leaned forward to bury her face into his neck and wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him tightly as they both rocked back and fore.

Loki prayed to the Gods that there would be no turbulence until they were finished. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to let her go back to her own chair even if there was some.

Luckily there wasn’t any interruptions. Loki completed himself into her with a groan and dug his fingers into her sides, likely to leave bruises. But he always came so hard when he was buried inside her. Chloe was quick to follow, cumming just as hard.  

She went completely limp on his lap and didn’t want to move, at all. Loki trailed his fingers up and down her spine, enjoying the lovely little shiver he got out of her. He was still nestled nicely inside of her and he was quite happy keeping her there.

‘I can’t move.’ She whispered against his neck.

Loki chuckled. ‘No need to, darling. We have plenty of time before descending.’

#Loki #Others #Submitted fic #submission #caught in his web #chapter 38 #fanfichiddles

[lorspolairepeluche]

Favorite Writing 2019

ringing out this dumpster fire of a year by talking about the nice things i made during it. 2019 was pretty good for writing, having contained two-thirds of my last year of college (including my final portfolio for my creative writing major). under the cut are several handfuls of my favorite lines/passages/whatever i’ve written this year, sorted by what they’re from.

from Laudata Fidelis

“Lafi…”

The whisper is strangled, nearly gone, but it pierces its way into Lafi’s ears, and she turns her head on the ground, tearing her eyes from Killough’s sword, just in time to see Gendra’s hand outstretched for her. Lafi smiles, a small, bitter thing. We died together fourteen years ago too, didn’t we? “Close your eyes, Gendra.” This will be no crack on the head. There will be no surviving this.

Lafi considers for a moment before asking him the same question she asked his wife two weeks before: “Do you think I’m Aegri?”

She sees René look at her again out of the corner of her eye, head cocked like a curious dog’s. Finally, he asks, “Does it matter if I do or don’t? For that matter, does it matter if you are?”

“If you’re not open to change, sometimes change opens you,” René murmurs. When Lafi gives him a raised eyebrow and quirked mouth, he adds, “I mean, in the opens-you-from-neck-to-navel sense. It’s not a pretty metaphor. It’s what change did to me when I wasn’t ready.”

“That pack we were hunting last week has been a thorn in our side for ages. We got most of ‘em, oh, nine or so years back? But Claudia got clawed—ha, clawed—she’d kill me for laughing at that—got clawed up pretty bad. Lost that eye.”

[Nagendra. Thursday 10:28 am] The hunters corner Rene and are about to shoot him when (as he tells it) Justy shows up out of nowhere swinging a baseball bat and hollering HOME RUN as she cracks one across the back of his head.

[Me. Thursday 10:28 am] Holy shit.

[Nagendra. Thursday 10:28 am] Honestly when I heard that I knew exactly why Rene fell in love with her.

Justy’s really just an ordinary human who got caught up in this. She’s taken to it like a duck to water, but how did a woman ignorant enough to hit a hunter in the head with a baseball bat—yelling “home run,” no less—become the serious, motherly Guillory she is? (Does she still have the baseball bat?)

Killough has grabbed the creature’s focus and holds it tight as he says, “Hello. Goodbye.”

Lafi feels the magic move in the air—and settle in her arms. She looks up at Killough, shocked—is he setting the thing on me?—and is looking at the barrel of Killough’s pistol. “Killo—”

He fires.

Lafi’s ears ring with the sound of the shot for a few seconds before she realizes the sudden difference: the weight in her arms is heavier. The cub isn’t just asleep anymore, not with a bullet trail clear through its skull and its blood seeping into Lafi’s shirt.

“Wow, Laffy, are all your friends as rude as you?” Bridget asks snidely.

“Yes,” Lafi deadpans. “Absolutely gauche. Please get out of my seat.”

“I think it’s you who’s being rude.” Nagendra doesn’t raise her voice, but it catches everyone’s attention anyway as she steps just a little closer to Taylor. It’s dark and almost sibilant, and Lafi glances at her in alarm. Please don’t do anything stupid. “After all, there were already lunch trays at these seats.” Her face is neutral, maybe even an inch into pleasant, and somehow unnerving. “With food on them.” She leans down, just a little. “Our food.” It hits Lafi like lightning exactly why Nagendra’s so unsettling: she has let her pupils change to snakelike slits. “So please. May we have our seats back?”

Lafi Ness’s List Of Facts

One, Nagendra is half-dragon.

Two, I am a mage.

Three, I’ve known Nagendra for a week and a half, and only because the people Nagendra lives with kidnapped me.

Four, Nagendra does not have a crush on me.

Five. I do not have a crush on Nagendra.

Lafi’s sure that if she were a cartoon, her eyes would have sparkles in them as she watches Nagendra raise her arms above her head, relaxing before flexing her shoulders. Wings erupt from her shoulder blades, at first stumps, then small, folded things, then flaring out into true, membranous wings. Scales peek out from her skin, starting at her wing joints and adding one by one in an outward wave, over her shoulders and her arms until they cover her fingers and grow claws to replace her fingernails, down her torso to her legs as she kicks off her shoes and her feet become clawed too, up her neck and shooting up the sides of her face. When she blinks her eyes open, her pupils are slits again, and horns grow out from under her hair as she rolls her neck, her shoulders, her ankles, flares her wings until they settle to fold on her back. Nagendra shrugs awkwardly, a stark contrast to the grace of her transformation. “Well — what do you think?”

“I think…that was incredible,” Lafi breathes.

Nagendra flares her wings. “Come on. Let me show you how they work.”

“Oh, are there extra pectoral muscles to make them fla—AAAAAAHHHHHH!” Lafi’s question makes a quick swan-dive into a holler of fright as her feet suddenly leave the ground, Nagendra’s hands firmly holding hers as she takes off. “Ow!” she shouts as soon as her vertigo has passed. “Do you know how much that hurts my shoulders?”

“You big baby! I do this with Will all the time!”

“Will’s like, six! I’m much larger than her, and my shoulders are probably way less…mobile…”

“We’ll say I fought her and won,” Gloria says. “Elliot will believe that.”

“Not if it looks like I won.” Claudia flicks her wand, and Gloria slams back the few inches into the wall. “You two kids escaped during the fight, got that?” She almost has a gleam of amusement in her eye as Gloria groans more in annoyance than pain.

“Oh, so I see we’re going right back to the old days,” Gloria mutters, standing up and dusting herself off. “What are you two waiting for? Go!”

The dragon — it’s hard to think of her as Amy just yet — awkwardly shuffles around to let her head face Lafi. “I can at least get my wings spread this way — wow. Wings. I have wings.”

Despite every other dire thing happening outside this alley, Lafi can’t help but grin at the sight of the dragon’s snout scrunching up like her nose does in human form. Okay, yeah. That’s Amy.

She barely has time to look at Nagendra and smile and say, “Hey,” before Gendra closes the three steps’ distance to the bed, grabs Lafi’s chin — not ungently — and kisses her.

It’s kind of an awkward position for Lafi, so she just grabs Nagendra’s arm with one hand and hangs on for dear life as the kiss extends into way longer than their first one did. Gloria finally has to cough to let them know she’s still there.

Nagendra only pulls away to say, “You and Claudia were nonstop PDA that night in the lobby,” before going right back to kissing Lafi.

Lafi breaks away just a few seconds later to laugh. “Wow. Did you miss me that bad?”

“Look, I’ve gotten all of one chance before now to do that, and it was right after I almost died.” Nagendra presses her lips to Lafi’s forehead this time. “So sue me for being impatient to do it again.”

She still can’t walk loosely, or she pulls on the healing scar, even though the stitches are gone, but it’s worth it to push open the door to the office, bow over-dramatically, and say, “Baroness.”

“Shut up,” Gloria says good-naturedly after she swallows a gulp of her coffee.

“The pack says you’ve been hanging out at their house every weekend.”

“Yeah, uh, they’re my friends.” Lafi shrugs.

“And you would probably like us to not hunt your girlfriend?” Gloria sips from her coffee again, eyebrows raised pointedly over the mug.

Lafi’s face heats up, but she manages a level, “That would…be nice.”

from “The Apple and the Rose” 

                                   SNOW (CONT’D.)

                    I would like a bridge, please.

She steps out — and her foot is met by branches twisting themselves into a bridge. Little flowers bloom along the sides as Snow makes her way over the stream. Briar grins.

                                  BRIAR

                   You’re a natural.

                                 SNOW

                  Only following suit. Are you coming?

Briar follows Snow across the bridge, and from her first step, the bridge changes to mahogany where she touches it, rhododendron flowers bloom from the sides, and it becomes polished, as if newly built by hand and not by imagination. Briar changes too. For a longer moment than before, with chin held high, hand elegantly grazing along the handrail, and back straight and proud, she is the hundred-year-old queen she was meant to be.

Then she steps off the bridge, and the moment is gone, but she is smiling now.

                                 BRIAR

                 It’s the way to break my curse. After                 one hundred years...true love’s kiss.                 You’re that true love, Snow. If I kiss you...                 I wake up. And I leave you here. Alone.

Snow considers, her eyes on Briar’s. Briar is desperate with her dilemma.

Snow steps forward, takes Briar’s face in her hands, and pulls her down to kiss her. Despite what she’s just said, Briar holds her close and kisses her harder.

After a few seconds, Snow breaks the kiss, puts her finger on Briar’s lips, and whispers:

                                SNOW

                Find me.

                                                                                    CUT TO:

INT. BRIAR’S BEDROOM - DAY

CLOSE ON BRIAR’S FACE

Briar’s eyes fly open.

from “Intelligence,” pilot episode of Star Trek: Magellan

                               K’RALTA

               You have your orders, Krya.

Krya shoots K’Ralta a glare.

                               KRYA

               SoH Hu’tegh petaQ.

Her statement startles Sloan, but she doesn’t notice as she storms past him out of the office.

                               K’RALTA

               You’ll have to excuse the Commander.                I don’t think she’s aware you                understand Klingon.

                               SLOAN

               …Sir?

                               K’RALTA

               A shame, really, that she doesn’t put                more effort into learning to curse                properly, when that’s mostly what she                does when she speaks Klingon.

                              TASOVA

              This isn’t the first ship named Enterprise               I’ve ever served on. Yeah. I served under               Kirk. Patched him up several times, too.               So don’t doubt me, Lieutenant: any fight               you tell me about, Kirk was in it first.

                             MAGELLAN

             I was programmed from the first to              understand that not everyone would accept              me as more than the standard computer,              and certainly not as a person.

Arisawa frowns, but turns back to her stage.

                            ARISAWA

                    (still yelling)

            Well, if you can choose a favorite rock             song, you’re a person by my reckoning!             Come on!

She runs back out to center stage, slinging the guitar’s strap around her neck and skidding to a halt before—

CLOSE ON GUITAR

—striking a chord.

from the untitled story of Team MCHN and Team WBAT

Helia and Celeste and Nebula follow Taiyang, but Matu doesn’t need his guidance at all; they follow the path their heart remembers, even if every step hurts because they know what they’ll find at the end of it—and what they won’t find.

The door comes into sight, and they’re almost surprised to find that Boreas has kept it painted the same midnight blue.

The door comes into sight, and a shard of the past stabs into their heart—the window next to it isn’t fogged with the steam from the kettle.

The door comes into sight, and Matu’s muscle memory stops them short, expecting a bright-eyed blond girl to come crashing out the door and right into them, yelling for a sparring match.

The door does not open. Ourana isn’t there. The shard in Matu’s heart twists.

from the untitled story of Siobhan Killdeer, Sawbones Alchemist

“I was going to get my State Alchemist certification then too, but…well, I was a medic in Ishval. I didn’t want to be another human weapon.”

“Aren’t you a medical alchemist? They would have kept you on as a medic, right?”

Siobhan looked up at Edward, and her bright, casual tone disappeared. “Yes. I’m a medical alchemist. I know all the best ways to heal the human body. I also know all the worst ways to hurt it. Which do you think the bastards would have had me using in a war of extermination?”

“I’ve never…I don’t know best what to say here, but I want to put that ring on your finger. If you’ll have me.”

“I already said yes.” Siobhan’s arms curl around his chest, making sure he can feel as much of her as possible above his waist. “I’ll have you. Every inch of you, Jean Havoc, if you’ll have me in return.”

“Of course. I hope I always will.”

“Jean, one more thing before I fall asleep.”

“Yeah?”

“Shave your goddamn chin mange. I’m not marrying you with that awful beard.”

He rumbles with laughter against her, and she lets out a laugh of her own on a breath as he says, “Maybe when you get back again. See if you like it then.”

“I won’t, I promise.” And echoed in the words: I’ll come back. I promise.

from various “found” poetry cobbled together for a class winter term

a pale king

the voice says faintly, “Ah...my greatest failure.” no regard for what you could be, Are you sorry? sharp and angry. I thought I had paid the perfect cost Yes. Yes, I am sorry. (you never said that) “Father,”

Volatile Explosives

“So when did you build a cannon?” I was insane. a genius, “Genius he may be, but he’s still off his fucking rocker.” Yes, that’s true. But about the cannon… It’ll break after just one shot. “One shot?” I’ll try not to make any mistakes. “Ah, excellent!” What do you think? “About what?”

All Lit Up (And I Start To Smile)

This is gonna be a train wreck of happiness.

It’s many hundred miles, and it won’t be long.

If you hear sirens, come kiss me goodbye.

So if you need me…start screaming.

I’m out of my head, of my heart, of my mind.

Don’t sacrifice temporal accuracy for enthusiasm.

Don’t let me falter; don’t let me hide; don’t let the earth in me subside.

Do not go far from me.

I have lived o’er my lives without number.

If we’re going to be damned, let us be damned for what we really are.

Get busy growing or stand in place and decay.

Nor are you just another biological organism.

The universe is expanding, and so should you.

Why change the past when you can own this day?

Drive blind on an untethered joyride through hell.

Sound the horn and call the cry;

I can hear your voices bouncing off the moon.

It’s still you looking out.

Life needs things to live.

Life needs love to live.

Long may your innocence reign,

And God bless the grass.

Be bold. Be brave. Be courageous. Black alert.

Tinkerty tonk.

from “Emma,” a retelling of Bluebeard

She reaches to the very back of her closet as soon as she gets to her room and yanks out a wooden hanger with black draped over it. She dons the three-piece suit carefully. This is her wedding attire, not the stupid, flouncy dress she wore to marry him. This is what she would have worn to marry Lizzie.

Lizzie who has absolutely no reason to come after Emma, or to call 911, or to even listen to the messages she left. Lizzie who she left when she cowed to Mom’s insistence. Poor Lizzie. Poor, dearest Lizzie. Emma blows a kiss out the window for her. It feels like too little, too late.

from “Patrick, Donald, and the Great Ride,” a short play written for the family reunion in August

DONALD: He searched us. What, did he think we were smuggling guns in? Tequila? Bubblegum?

from “Drawing From...: On Writing, Life, and the Writing Life,” the introductory essay to my final portfolio

My kindergarten pièce de résistance was written in a fit of pique. Mrs. Steuber had read us a poem about a teddy bear, fluffy and perfect—except it was far from perfect. It was a brown teddy bear, and I knew better than the author that white teddy bears were the way to go, evidenced by my own beloved Snowball. So, armed with colorful markers, I rewrote the poem to be about the proper color bear.

Eighteen years later, a lot of my writing comes from the same well of indignation inside me.

There’s really no other way to come up with the line “I cast ‘healing word’ on Big Thokk, and the word is ‘dumbass’” than when my kleptomaniac traveling partner knocks himself out trying to steal gems and I, the long-suffering healer, have to get him back on his feet.

Echoes and echoes and echoes, from Ancient Greece to mid-20th-century Maryland, to 21st-century Illinois.

And as I write this, I’m in a minivan with my friends, Peter driving us to Chicago as Marion plays “This Year” by the Mountain Goats from her phone, and we sing along with gusto: “I am gonna make it through this year if it kills me!” Well, hopefully it won’t kill me. I’ll take a step back, a breath, make sure I have my words with me, and treat the cliff as a starting block like every one I’ve dove off to begin a race. Even if I don’t know what I’m swimming when I hit the water—or if I’ll hit the water at all—I’ll step up, I’ll take my mark, and I’ll go.

i’ll end there; i think “this year” is an appropriate place to end 2019. happy new year, you series of disasters of a decade. you made me who i am; thanks for that. i’m going on ahead now.

(i am gonna make it through this year if it kills me...)

#formatting the screenplay stuff was a bitch and a half and i HOPE it works right #shhh the bear's writing #happy new year #looking at this w the rainbow blockquotes extension is....really nice lmao

[jeonsduck]

Prince or Pauper

Prince Part 2

You had expected that to be the first and last time you saw Nakamoto Yuta. Someone like him who had five bodyguards, a driver, and two cars probably wouldn't ever even think of you again. Yuta, however, seemed intent on breaking the status quo because they very next day, a strange figure starts to follow you around. A slightly familiar strange figure. As you walk from your dorm to your 8 AM lecture, you notice what appears to be a grown man on a skateboard in generic e-boy fashion following you around campus. He stays about twenty yards behind you at all times, skateboarding at a snail's speed. He even follows you into your lecture, sitting three rows behind you. When you turn around to look at him, that's when you recognize him. He's one of Yuta's bodyguards! You wait until after the lecture finishes to confront him and ask why he's following you. You trap him in an empty lecture hall, whirling around and demanding answers. The bodygaurd sighs and removes his atrocious white sunglasses. He looks bashful, almost ashamed that he's caught. "My boss told me to keep an eye on you." You squint at him in confusion until it clicks. "You mean Yuta? He assigned me a bodyguard?" The guy shrugs, shifting his skateboard to a different hand. "The boss doesn't get out much. And when he does he doesn't get to meet with many friends. To be honest, I don't know that he has any. Real friends, I mean. But he likes you. So here I am." It sounds reasonable when he says it like that. Maybe Yuta's just lonely? But he didn't even ask for yout number, so why the security detail? "What's your name?" You ask. Its getting tiring just calling him bodyguard. He seems to debate answering that before conceding. "Mako." "Well Mako, let's get to class yeah?" He chuckles and ruffles your hair in an annoying big brother kind of way. "Yeah, let's go, kid."

Despite Mako's assignment to watch and protect, you don't hear from Yuta for another three days. Well, in the beginning you didn't know it was Yuta, your phone buzzing off the hook with some unknown number. Dang, telemarketers were getting desperate. On the fifth call you decided to pick up. "Y/N! Why haven't you been answering your phone?" Your eyes widen and you look at Mako who's sitting two tables away. He shrugs and gestures for you to continue talking. There's a lot of wind and static so its hard for you to hear what Yuta is saying. "Yuta? How did you get this number?" "Oh, I just looked you up, don't worry about it! Sorry, I've been out of town this week. But, I just got back and was wondering if you wanted to go get some pizza? I've been craving this amazing place I know for days." Oh, maybe he's in a moving car? That mighy explain the background noise. Your stomach grumbles, and after only eating instant ramen for dinner this week, pizza sounds amazing. "Yeah, I'd love to." You agree. "Perfect! Are you still on campus? I'll pick you up." "Yeah, I'm at the science building." You answer slowly because, Mako is right here, so Yuta should know where you are. Theoretically. "Good! Meet me by the soccer fields in 15!" Yuta hangs up and you just sort of stare at your phone for a second. You save the number Yuta called from as Yuta with three question marks and pack up your things. You head over to the soccer fields expecting to see the black SUV or maybe a fancy sports car in one of the commuter lots. What you don't expect is a fucking helicopter, idling on one of the empty fields. Yuta hangs out the open door when he spots you. "Come on, I already got us a table!" He shouts. You look back at Mako, but he just takes your backpack and gestures for you to board the helicopter. "Go on, kid." You turn away from Mako and jog across the field to the waiting helicopter. Yuta helps you in, fitting a headset over your ears. Another bodyguard straps you both in and you have to yell over the rotors and wind to be heard. "Yuta, why are we in a helicopter?" You ask, clinging to the brace bar for your life. Below you, your campus is quickly shrinking into the distance. "Well, when we got back to the States we couldn't get clearance for the jet at the local airport, but they cleared the helicopter. And then I thought, we already have the helicopter out, so pizza!" Yuta explained it like it was a simple, logical series of events and you just nodded blankly. It was too loud to talk in the helicopter so all conversation ceased until you landed. You recognized the skyline as the pilot made a lap around the city. "Yuta, are we in New York City?" Yuta just laughed and nodded in confirmation. The pilot landed the helicopter on a helipad partway up a skyscraper. Yuta helped you down from the aircraft and the three remaining bodyguards followed you into the building. The restaurant takes up four floors, Yuta was saying, but you were completely distracted by the decor around you. It looked like this place had four Michelin stars to its name. Most of the other patrons were dressed to the nines, but you and Yuta were just wearing jeans and a tshirt. Yuta's jeans were designer and his tshirt was Balenciaga, but that was beside the point. "Mr. Nakamoto it's an honor for you to dine with us tonight. And your guest?" A maitre d'hotel had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, surprising you. "It's great to be back. This is my friend Y/N. Were you able to secure my usual table?" Yuta asked, smiling cordially at the man. "Yes, of course, right this way." He bowed slightly and began leading the way. Apparently, Yuta's regular table wasn't a table at all but an entire dining floor. Of course. There were at least five waitstaff positioned to assist, but you were the only one with a menu. Even the bodyguards, who were sitting one table over seemed to already know what they wanted. "Feel free to look over the menu, order whatever you want. I'll get the tab so-" you cut Yuta off, folding the menu closed. "I'll have whatever you're having. You did say it was the best pizza you've ever had." Yita smiled brightly, signalling a waiter over. You watch him order, asking for some type of pizza you can't pronounce and the pairing wine. "Next time I'm choosing where we go, and I'm footing the bill okay?" You say and Yuta looks at you with surprise in his eyes. "Okay, whatever you say!" He agrees with a chuckle. The waiter returns with the wine bottle, and Yuta waves him off in order to pour it himself. "So, still don't know who I am?" He asks, glancing up at you. You sigh, glancing around the empty dining hall. "I mean. You're rich obviously. And important. Four bodyguards is a bit much. Also, should I be worried that you sent Mako to look after me?" You ask, accepting a full wine glass from Yuta. "You noticed him?" "He's not the best fake college student, but he tried." "Does it make you uncomfortable?" You think about that for a moment, twirling your wine glass around. "Not really. He's not doing me any harm. But should I be worried about my own safety? Does being friends with you constitute a bodyguard?" You ask. Yuta doesn't reply immediately and you take a sip from your glass to fill the space. Its bitter, like all red wines, but not in a bad way. "Are you the child of a mafia kingpin?" You wonder out loud. Yuta's eyes bluge and he nearly chokes on his wine. The bodyguards start laughing heartily, one coming over to ensure that his charge won't asphyxiate. "I guess not." You mumble. "No, no nothing like that. Interesting guess though. The bodyguards are more, protocol than necesity." Yuta explains. You nod solemnly, processing the new information. Protocol? That sounds pretty official. You don't get much more chance to think on it because at that moment the pizza arrives. Its a weird pizza, visually and descriptively. Romano, parmesan, and buffalo mozzarella cheese, garlic herb dough, a slighty spicy kick to the sauce and the toppings :prosciutto, onions, mushrooms, truffle oil, lobster and shrimp. So effectively, the most expensive seafood pizza you'll ever eat. Except holy shit, this isn't just some rich people bullshit, this is honestly the best pizza you're sure has ever been made. It's not just a hodgepodge of expensive toppings, it actually,taste's good. "I think I might fucking cry. Yuta this is delicious." He laughs at you eyes crinkling in the corners. "Of course it's good! I know what good food tastes like." Yuta says. He looks proud, taking a sip of wine to hide his blush. The rest of the meal passes in near silence because there's no time to talk when there's pizza this good. You and Yuta manage to finish the whole pie and the whole wine bottle. You're both slightly tipsy as you make your way back to the helipad. You're clinging onto Yuta and laughing as he tells you silly jokes and stories up until you get put back in the helicopter. Somewhere between New York and campus you doze off, your head resting against Yuta's shoulder. He drifts off as well, his head coming to rest on top of yours. One of the bodyguards takes a photo, for both posterity and blackmail the next time he wants a day off. When you land, Mako is waiting on the soccer field with a car to bring you to your dorm. Despite the bodyguards assuring Yuta that them can put you in the car themselves, he insits on helping buckle you in. You rouse a few times, humming sleepily and he tutts you back to sleep. "See you soon, Y/N." You might feel a gentle kiss on your forehead, but that could just be you dreaming.

#yuta nakamoto x reader #nct yuta #kpop scenarios #nakamoto yuta #yuta fanfiction #yuta x reader #nct 127 #nct #yuta imagines

[goingknowherewastaken]

Among The Trees, The Fallen Rise Again || Part Four

♦ Title: Among The Trees, The Fallen Rise Again

♦ Fandom: Star Trek with a small dash of Pete’s Dragon

♦ Relationship: McKirk || Jim x Bones

♦ Warnings: vulgarities, gossip, mentions of infidelity, mentions of harassing behavior

♦ A/N: I’m not dead!!!! Just went on an unexpected hiatus :p

But boy am I happy to be writing again. Although I was not expecting this to be the thing that I would end up posting/updating. A Million Years or even a reader insert one shot, but not then...yet here we are!!!

Any who….if you haven’t read the previous parts, you can find those linked here!!

Enjoy!! ♥ :)

Among The Trees, The Fallen Rise Again || Part Four

“Bye, Pav!” Jim waved at the kid as he exited Yorktown, dodging around a few guys and ignoring the looks he got.

It was a little busier since it was the lunch rush, but Pavel still returned the waved from where he was working the register. “Bye, Jim! And Congrats!” He shouted before darting over to help the new arrivals who, judging by the bits of sawdust on their clothes, were probably on break from logging. “Leo, Scotty, hi -”

Jim laughed and made his way to his car, an excited grin on his face as he pulled away from the curb.

Two days ago, Jim had applied to temporarily rent the ‘penthouse’ apartment before making an offer on the log mansion that was just over the listing price. He had wanted to low-ball an offer, but Barnett quickly axed that plan. The move-in ready place had been on the market for only a month, but, so far, all of it's offers had been below the listing price.

And, apparently, the owner was having none of that shit. The dude had turned down each and every 'insulting' offer for his masterpiece.

Since Jim was the first potential buyer to be able to offer more than the listing price, the realtor thought it was best to go over to maximize his chance at getting the home.

Last night, he got a call back from Barnett.

He wouldn't have to keep living out of the 'Beige Motel'.

Sure, he'd still have several weeks before he would be able to start moving in, but that wasn’t an issue. After a lengthy phone call, Jim managed to convince the owner of the apartment building to allow him to rent to the apartment

Grinning gleefully, Jim tapped his fingers along the steering wheel to the beat of the fading song.

Who would have thought that this blink-and-you-miss-it town in the middle of nowhere would be the new home of James Tiberius Kirk?

Heeding the stop sign before him, Jim took the opportunity to grab his sunglasses and slip them on before switching the station. Weather forecasts were just so boring, but classic rock? Driving on, he slipped easily into singing along to Cherry Bomb as he searched for his turnoff.

Between conversations with Nyota, Spock, and Pavel, it wasn’t hard to come to the conclusion that he was going to need far more than what he packed in his bags for his new home...homes?

Not - not that he needed their input.

But they did give him ideas on various necessities.

One such necessity? Plants.

He had adored his little garden back in LA. Carefully probing the dirt as he gently placed each plant and seed. Meticulously watering each growth and pulling unwanted weeds as they sprouted. Scenting the soft fragrance of the various blossoms as they bloomed. Tasting each new vegetable as they ripened

If he was going live here, he needed something to brighten up the inside of his new homes.

Something to care for.

After a few more minutes, Jim found himself pulling into a small gravel lot and picking a spot near the front doors. Throwing the car into park, Jim leaned over the steering wheel to get a better look at the flower shop.

Demora's Nursery was located on the outskirts of Millhaven. The main building was a low, wood paneled structure with windows filled with various types of ferns. Behind it, three greenhouses stood attached, their opaque walls giving no clues as to what grew inside.

A small set of wind-chimes jingled as he entered the colorful shop, drawing the attention of a young Asian man working behind the counter. “Hello,” he greeted, a welcoming smile spread across his face. As he watched Jim make his way back, being careful not to knock over any of the potted plants, he questioned, “Can I help you find anything?”

“Hi! Uh, yeah, I think.” Jim scratched at the back of his head as the man gave him a questioning look. “I just bought a house in the area and I'm looking for some things to add a little life to it.”

He nodded and slid a pad of paper towards him. Grabbing a pen he said, “That I can help you with. Do you have anything specific in mind?”

Jim shrugged. “Eh, not really?” He never actually thought about what he wanted. “Sorry.”

He got a one-shouldered shrug in return. “Don't worry about it. Most people come in with the mindset of 'I'll know it when I see it'. Here,” he slid off his stool and came around the counter. “I'll show you around. You might have questions about some of the plants. Oh,” he stuck out his hand. “I'm Ben, by the way.”

Well, Ben turned out to be a savior sent to Earth. Not only did he know about every single plant he and his husband sold, he was also extremely helpful with giving Jim tips about an outdoor garden come the spring.

“We usually get the garden magazines around December. So you can either stop by then or an issue can be sent to you,” he informed, leading Jim into the second greenhouse. The nursery turned out to be divided by plant types – the main building that we are currently in, ferns and indoor trees; the first greenhouse, vegetables; and the final two, flowers.

“Thanks, I'll keep that in mind.”Jim tried to shove his sleeves up higher as the humid air assaulted his body. “I didn't know that nurseries stayed open during the winter.”

Ben shrugged, picking off a few dead leaves from some pots of roses. “Most don't. We're just one that likes to keep something in stock year round. Some things we get shipped in and some we work on growing, but we tailor the stock to the season. The spring and early summer is when we have the most outdoor plants; in the late summer, we transition to ones that do well indoors.”

Jim picked up a small pot of wildflowers. “That's nice.” He gave the flowers a sniff, a memory coming to him. “Hey, do you have any of those – shit, what are they called? They're the little white, bell-like flowers? I remember by grandparents in Iowa had some that grew wild. My gramps would always send us out to pick some for my grandma when we visited.” He smiled softly. “I always liked the smell of them.”

Ben's eyebrows knitted together in thought. “Do you mean the lily of the valley?”

Jim shifted the pot over to one hand and snapped his fingers. “Yes! Those! Do you have any of those?”

The other man chewed his lip. “Hmmmm, I don't know if we have any of those left. We definitely did, though. They grow like crazy during May and the loggers dig up a bunch for us.” He turned and headed for the doorway. “See, they grow really well in pots and we worked on growing them already in pots. I think my husband might know, though.” He stepped out and yelled into the narrow corridor, “Hey, Hikaru!”

“Yeah?” A voice responded from the third greenhouse.

“Do we have anymore pots of lily of the valley?”

“Yeah!” The man sounded closer and Jim rocked on his feet listening to the two talk. “They're in green house three toward th - ” The voice abruptly cut off and Jim looked up to see the other man, Hikaru, staring at him in shock. “Holy shit,” he whispered.

The blond felt himself go pale while panic flooded his veins. Shit. Shit. SHIT!

A confused Ben glanced between the two, but Hikaru kept his focus on Jim.

“You're Jim Kirk.”

With that, his husband looked aghast and Jim cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I – uh – I am.”

Hikaru ginned and strode forward, eager to shake his hand. “Oh, thank god! For a second I thought I had the wrong guy,” he babbled. “And, I don't know if you remember, but we actually met a few years ago.”

“Ah, thank you.” Still stunned, Jim squinted at the man. Now that he mentioned it, he did look familiar. It took a few seconds for the light-bulb to click. “That flight to New York -”

“- with the worst turbulence of your fucking life,” the Hikaru finished with a grin. “Yup! God, that was some scary shit.”

Jim shivered at the memory. “It fucking was!” His blue eyes widened at a realization. “Shit, you were the pilot! I bet that was even worse!”

“Yeah.” He put his hands on his hips as Ben stepped forward. “I thought we were gonna di -”

“- Excuse me?”

Jim and Hikaru found their heads twisting to the side at Ben’s interruption. The man in question was staring between the two with a look of befuddlement. Jim, at least, felt sheepish over excluding him; Hikaru, on the other hand, didn’t seem particularly concerned about the matter.

“Do you remember that flight I told you about?! The one I was assigned to when the original pilot got struck down with food poisoning?!”

Jim noticed the moment that the memory popped into Ben’s head. “The flight with the actors from Guardians of the Galaxy,” he said with his realization, his head turning to look at Jim.

Twin “Yups” were what he got as a confirmation; only Jim’s was more on the bashful side as Hikaru took the gleeful tone.

“Wow…,” seemed to be the only thing Ben could say.

A few moments of silence settled over the three before a bemused chuckle escaped Jim. “Jesus,” he said, “I’ve been here for nearly a week, walking about town -” he let out another chuckle “- buying property, and you’re the first to recognize me by just seeing me.”

Ben smirked and sent a look at Hikaru. “Well, they don’t religiously watch Haven like this nerd.”

Hikaru pouted. “Hey, don’t knock Haven - Wait, you bought property here?”

“Ah, you caught that,” Jim said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’d been thinking about getting a place away from the city for a while now and with…” He trailed off, the distasteful discretion raging back into his mind like an untamed bull. Suddenly, he was on the receiving end of two pity filled faces.

“Shit, yeah, we saw that on the news. That’s - oof!” Hikaru cut himself off and sent a glare at his husband for elbowing him in the ribs. Jim watched on with a pained heart as several seconds of silent communication passed between them before realization dawned across Hikaru’s face and he turned back to Jim full of remorse. “Shit! I am so sorry for bringing that up.”

“No, it’s - it’s fine.” He hated to admit it, but Jim had to swallow back a pit of despair, embarrassed that he allowed himself to become overwhelmed by them in public. Plastering on a smile, Jim did his best to ease their unease. “I slipped up with it and - and you were just trying to sympathize and -”

“Jim.”

He stopped talking, word vomit lodged in his throat at the appearance of hands settling on his shoulders, comforting and steady. He looked between the double pairs of brown, empathizing eyes and felt a delayed and all-encompassing tidal wave of relief wash through him, pricking at his own blue eyes.

Throughout his entire life, Jim had always needed to share - whether he wanted to or not. It went beyond sharing his food or his toys. No, he was expected to share his entire life. What’s his workout like? What gets his motor running? How hairy is his butt? What does he do every single moment of his day?

Majority of the time Jim had wanted to tell them to fuck off and mind their own business because did he seriously owe these strangers his entire personal life?

Yet, these two men, these two strangers, are asking nothing of him.

Perhaps the most vulnerable moment of his life and instead of joining the press and pestering him about the dirty details of the affair they’re standing as pillars of strength on either side of him.

Drawing in a ragged breath, a hurricane of emotion roaring in Jim’s chest as a lone tear sat glistening upon his cheek, lost in a sea of green and colors.

☼

Damn near tripping over his feet, Len’s head swiveled around in an attempt to keep the blond in his sight for as long as possible.

“Len.”

His gaze dropping past the fur collared bomber jacket to settle on a dark wash, jean clad butt seconds before it vanished from his view.

“Len!”

Len turned, brow raising at Scotty’s amused, knowing look. Unspoken of by all in the know, only Scotty truly knew Len’s interest knew no bounds.

Unknownst by the Scotsman, the perky young Pavel interrupted them before Len could level any sort of retort. “Leo, Scotty, hi! How was your morning?” He said the question while laying down their menus.

“Well enough, Lad. Say,” Scotty grew sly, flipping open his menu and shooting Len a wink. “Who was that that just left? Never seen ‘im around before.”

“Oh, that was Jim! The usual for drinks right?” Pavel chirped back without missing a beat. Len peered up, his curiosity piqued. In the corner of his eye, Scotty matched his nod of confirmation. When he darted off to go fetch their drinks, Len narrowed his eyes at his business partner.

He was only met with a smug grin.

“Here we go,” Pavel said, placing a tall glass of Coke before Len and one of Dr. Pepper before Scotty. “I’ll give you a few more minutes to think over your order -”

“No need.” Len waved a hand, cutting him off. “We already have an idea of what we want.” After sharing their orders, the young waiter left them for a few minutes to drop the ticket off in the kitchen. The two ended up conversing over their work at the cut before Pavel returned to their tableside, meals balanced on a large, black tray.

“Da, Jim is new to the area,” Pavel said, placing their food on the table before pulling a chair up to the side of the table.

Len blinked. Well he just cuts right to the chase. “You know him?” He ignored the glance Scotty gave him; Yes, he was curious, but not because he was interested in the guy. At least, that’s what Len was telling himself.

Pavel merely shrugged, the white button up he had to wear for his shift wrinkling more with the action. “He came in for breakfast a few days ago and has come in to eat nearly everyday. Said he wanted a break from the city - actually this morning he said he was approved to buy a house in the area.”

Scotty let out a whistle. “Already bought a house? What’s he hiding from to just get to a place and buy a house?” Len snorted at the comment, but Scotty continued on before he could say anything. “Speaking of - Have ya heard the latest shit about Kirk?”

Rolling his eyes, Len took a big bite of his burger, savoring the taste of the cheese and bacon that coated his tongue. Ever since the news of the overrated actor freaking out and disappearing over his ex dating a new guy surfaced, Len has had to hear all about it from Scotty.

And he really doesn’t care.

Unfortunately for Len, Pavel “I-Want-To-Be-An-Actor-Someday” Chekov does.

“Da!” Pavel said, voice coming out in an over-interested gasp.

So much for Len’s relaxing lunch. He settled into eating as the two began their mind-numbing discussion about the whole Hollywood debacle, fragments of their commentary occasionally cutting through his thoughts on the flavors dancing upon his tongue.

“Why suddenly contact them and act like a dick after days of silence?”

God, what type of bacon is that? Brown sugar? Maple? Ah, who cares! It’s blessed by God anyways.

“Would you act that way over an ex, though?”

Hot damn, they don’t go lightly on the brownie chunks in the shake!

“It does beg the question: What falls faster? Stars or trees.”

“Like, why would - oh!”

The sudden break off of words pulled Len from his food and had he and Scotty exchanging a glance before looking at Pavel…who appeared to be in the middle of a transcending thought.

“You okay, Pav?”

“Uh - Da! Da, I just remembered that I - I have a errand to run after my shift, da.” With that, the kid left, leaving Len and Scotty to exchange curious looks in his wake. Even when he returned with their checks, Pavel kept his words short and work related; the unusual behavior causing Len to question what more was going on.

...to be continued 

If you would like to join my taglists, just go here!!

All Taglist: @feelmyroarrrr @yallneedtrek @haveyouseenmymind @reading-in-moonlight @jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets @annathewitch 

McKirk Taglist: @pinkamour1588 @bookcaseninja @thefanficfaerie @auduna-druitt @frostingsfics @loststarlight @randomlittleimp @emmkolenn @cheesybadgers @sorryallonsy 

Taglist for this specific story: thefanficfaerie loststarlight emmkolenn

My Fic Masterlist

My Misc Masterlist

#mckirk #leonard mccoy #jim kirk x bones #jim kirk x leonard mccoy #jim kirk #bones #star trek #fanfic #fanfiction #goingknowhere #goingknowherewastaken

[fandomsentertainment]

Iqi: Chapter Seven

“Iqi, look at this,” Hermione grinned showing me her phone.

It was a picture of me in the park, my back towards the camera, my gaze on the sky. My pale figure contrasted stunningly against the brown, reds and yellows of the trees.

“2 million people have already commented on it!” Hermione squealed. “I’m pissed that they photoshopped me out but it is a really good photo.”

I nodded in agreement. “Is this what all the humans will do with the photos they took?”

“Probably. I wouldn’t be surprised it some of them frame the photo in their homes. Say, when we get back to the condo I’m going to make a website for you.”

“We probably won’t be back until tomorrow or very late tonight.”

I frowned still upset at myself for being so absent minded and forgetting Captain Kiernan would be leaving today. I could have spent the day with Huder. I could imagine his quite literally bone crushing goodbye already. I could feel Captain’s disapproving gaze on me, scolding me for one last time.

“Hey,” Hermione took my hand. “The pilot said we would make it on time. We’re only half an hour away.”

“I’ll only have just as much time to say goodbye then,” I sighed.

“Whether you have an hour or years, goodbyes always hurt the same. You’ll still be able to keep in touch. And the internet is open they’ll be able to see you all the time!”

I nodded.

Hermione sighed. “I’m not going to lie. It won’t be the same. But I have an idea for a new hobby to keep you distracted.”

“What?” I asked.

“You’ll see once you’ve finished your goodbyes,” she winked.

-

As promised we arrived at the base where our spaceship had landed less than a week ago. There was an hour until launch. It’d take fifteen to get through the checkpoints, ten to get to the space, another ten perhaps to hunt down Huber. Which left me less than half an hour to say my goodbyes.

Hermione let me go ahead of her knowing it would take longer for her to get through the checkpoints. The guard guiding me seemed to understand I was in a rush and moved quickly. Despite our quick pace it was twenty minutes to launch when I finally got on the ship.

“Gt’ire! Where’s Huder?” I asked frantically.

Gt’ire pointed one of her tails down a corridor and I hurried down it. It didn’t take me long to find him, well he found me. Just as I opened the doors to see Captain Ki’rnne giving a short speech of goodbye to a single reporter with a camera, Huder launched himself at me. I could hear the humans cry of surprise as Huder’s muscular body encased me and began to squeeze.

“You fucking brat,” Huder hissed quietly in my ear, in his own language. “Too busy frolicing with your Soenil friends to remember me huh?”

I gasped an unintelligible apology, feeling my wings bending painfully.

“Oh, you better be sorry,” Huder chuckled.

I could hear my heartbeat over the sound of Captain Ki’rnne trying to reassure the humans that I was in no actual danger. I wasn’t so sure my heart felt as if it would burst.

I flapped my one free wing against his side signalling I was at my limit. Huder sighed and reluctantly released his grip. I coughed and gasped pitifully on the floor.

“I’m - I’m sorry. I forgot you were leaving today,” I choked out, wiping tears from my eyes.

“Iqi are you alright?” I heard an anxious human voice call.

I looked up Captain Ki’rnne was standing between the humans and I, he had taken a defensive posture. There were only three humans total in the room but they all had a weapon in their hands and a look of panic in their eyes. My own eyes widened as I realized the weapons weren’t really weapons. One held a jagged table leg, another held the shaft of a lamp as a makeshift dagger and the last had a piece of broken glass in it’s hand, wrapped in a cloth.

The rumours appeared to be true. Humans really could make a weapon out of anything and were absolutely crazy enough to attack animals much more powerful than them. The idea of three adult humans thinking they could take on even a teenage Sikknic was laughable. But here they are, their makeshift weapons in hand ready to attack.

I tried to stand leaning against Huder for support who looked as if he wasn’t sure if he should be fearful of these humans or not.

“I’m fine,” I quickly said. “This is just a misunderstanding. Huder would never harm me, we were just roughhousing.”

“Yes,” Captain Ki’rnne said. “Huder and Iqi have grown up almost like brothers this is just how they greet each other. I understand he may not seem like it to a Soenil but Huder is the same age as Iqi. They are children and I would appreciate it if you didn’t point your... weapons at them.”

The humans hesitated but eventually lowered their weapons and dropped them altogether.

“We’re sorry,” one of the said. “We truly thought Iqi was in danger. And we’re sorry if we frightened you Huder.”

Huder simply nodded, he had a peculier look on his face.

“Thank you,” I said. “I know you only had good intentions.”

“I’m pleased to know I will be leaving Iqi on a planet where even the reporters are warriors,” Captain Kiernan smiled relaxing his stance.

The humans laughed. “Oh, we’re not warriors or anything.”

“Yeah I failed gym in high school,” one laughed.

“How did you know how to create weapons so quickly then?” I asked intrigued.

“Oh, uh… Well I don’t know. I just thought Huder was trying to kill you and I didn’t even think about it,” one of them said scratching his head.

“I was a girl scout when I was a kid so that helped I guess. But yeah I just reacted,” another said.

Captain Ki’rnne seemed baffled. “You just... create weapons as an instinctual reaction to danger.”

“Uh, I guess so,” the humans shrugged.

Huder eyed me. “Can you do that?”

I shrugged. “It’s not like I’ve been exposed to much danger.”

“Well, Huder,” Captain said. “Go help prepare for launch. Iqi and I have somethings to discuss.”

Huder nodded and gave me one last look of farewell before slithering off. The humans began to pack up their stuff and clean up the mess they had made. I walked to Captain’s side.

“Captain,” I began in his native language. “I apologize for my tardiness…”

“Don’t concern yourself with that,” Captain said. “It’s good that you’re settling into Earth so well. And it seems that Earth has accepted you.”

“Yes, I feel very welcome here,” I couldn’t help but smile.

Captain turned to me a peculiar expression on his face. “Your mother…” he began.

I looked up at him expectantly.

“Your mother was a force to be reckoned with. A true example of humanity’s ability to not only survive but prosper in even the harshest circumstances. But she had flaws, Iqi. Remember that. Even the best of humanity has flaws. They can be easy to overlook with all of humanities great accomplishments, but don’t ever make the mistake of thinking humans are perfect. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Captain,” I nodded. “I should trust them, but still remain wary.”

“Good,” he smiled. “Iqi, it was an honor to raise you aboard this ship. I hope you find what you are looking for, but if you don’t there is always a home for you aboard my ship.”

“Thank you Captain,” I didn’t know what else to say.

He turned and began to leave. I was filled with a sudden panic of abandon and gripped the fur on his hunches. In my mind’s eye I could see my mother - her image blurry - walking out. He turned to me surprised as I walked to his head and wrapped my arms around his thick neck.

“I’ll miss you Captain,” I whispered.

He rested his head on the back of my wings and we stood there, embraced for a beat before he clear his throat and lifted his head.

“Goodbye Iqi. Be good,” he said then walked out the door.

It was harder then I imagined to stay in the building and watch through the glass as my first family flew off into space. But Hermione came to stand beside me and linked her fingers in my hand with a comforting smile and I knew I’d be alright.

“President Tapiwa wants to talk to us,” she said.

“About what?”

“Our unscheduled outing. We’re kind of in trouble,” Hermione shrugged unfazed that the leader of her world was agitated with her.

~

“Do you have any idea what could have happened to Iqi in that park?” President Tapiwa somehow managed to keep a calm face while speaking with complete rage.

“Nothing happened,” Hermione said. “We took some pictures and got a caricature painting.”

“And Iqi was plucked,” President Tapiwa turned her gaze on Hermione.

“Yeah, but like, he got what he deserved. And Iqi handled it better than I would have.”

“Do you know what that man is going to do with your feather Iqi?” President Tapiwa asked.

“Uh, keep it. I think,” I said sheepish.

She showed me her tablet. There was a picture of my feather along with a selfie of the man holding it up. It was being bid for. I gaped at the still rising price.

“Two million dollars,” President Tapiwa said. “It’s expected to rise significantly over the next few hours.”

“Holy shit Iqi you’re a walking gold mine,” Hermione laughed.

“That’s the problem, Hermione. Can you imagine the horrible things people would do to your brother if they could get their hands on him?”

“Yes, I can,” Hermione became serious. “But Iqi can’t be hold up and have his only contact with humans be via fancy galas and events. He needs to meet everyday people not just politicians and celebrities.”

“It’s too dangerous…”

“But I have a solution that can ensure Iqi’s safety and still allow him to communicate with people,” Hermione smiled.

President Tapiwa sat down sighing. “Well let’s hear it.”

“We can make an official website for Iqi. One where everyday people can sign up to meet him. Let’s say three days out of the week we have a small group come to the condo to meet with him. He can learn so much from them and vise versa. Iqi can also maybe do little facetime sessions where he talks to people one on one. Or maybe he can start a video diary on the internet where he can ask people questions and maybe answer questions they may have for him. There’s a whole world of possibility!” Hermione grinned excited.

I also liked this idea of having people come over in small groups and getting the chance to ask them questions. The crowds in the park were rather intimidating, this sounded a lot nicer.

“Hermione I know you mean well but exposing Iqi to the public is too dangerous and the funds we would need for security with all these people in and out will be way too expensive,” President Tapiwa said.

“What if we charge people for these visits,” Hermione argued. “We could also have a donation page.”

“People will find it suspicious that an - and forgive my language Iqi - but an alien asking for money from the public when he seems to already be living a luxurious life on their tax dollars.”

“Then we tell them the truth! We say the cost of security for these visits are incredibly expensive. Rather than spending the people’s tax dollars please feel free to donate whatever you wish.”

President Tapiwa sighed. “Hermione…”

“Please let us try it,” I begged.

They turned to me.

“I’m - I’m tired of being cooped up. People want to know more about me and I about them, but if we can’t see each other we’ll just make assumptions.”

“And assume makes an ass out of you and me!” Hermione added cheerfully.

I gave her a blank look.

“Jesus Iqi you really need to learn how to spell,” she shook her head.

“I’ll let you two try. One visitation. We’ll help you get the website running. But I don’t want random people for the first one. Ask people to send a page long submission about why they want to meet Iqi. Then I’ll have our people sift through to choose ten applicants for this initial meeting,” President Tapiwa said.

“Really!” I beamed.

She smiled. “Don’t get too excited. If this goes south that the end of it. Understand?”

“Yes, President Tapiwa! Thank you!” We grinned.

Hermione and I chatted excitedly about our plans for the event. As we approached the doors I noticed it was raining.

“Is Earth rain toxic?” I asked.

“Hmm, oh no it’s just water. The same kind we drink,” She gave me a funny look. “Do you want to run in it Iqi?”

“I want to fly,” I said watching the gentle drizzle fall from the sky. “I’ve never flown in rain before.”

“Do it!” she said excited. “I’ll get a video!”

She fumbled for her cell phone as we opened the door. She stayed in the doorway eagerly urging me on as I stepped into the drizzle. The rain was cool and refreshing. I stretched my wings to their full length. They were almost as wide as I was tall on both sides. Stunted for the Darite but humans thought they were enormous. I raised them and bent my legs to break into a sprint. I beat my wings as I ran feeling the strength rise in the as I rose off the ground. The humans hurrying in and out of the build all stopped to watch me make my first proper flight on Earth.

Finally I had enough momentum and I leapt from the ground beating my wings hard to lift my heavy body. I rose ten, twenty, thirty feet off the ground and held myself there. I spread my arms to bathe in the rain. I ran my hands through my hair and pulled my sleeves up to feel the cool water on my skin.

A buzzing sound caught my attention and I opened my eyes. A drone was flying near me, hovering in the air and watching. I reached out to touch it but it pulled out of reach. I smiled and prepared myself to descend, my wings already tired from the effort. Judging the distance I froze my wings and dropped from the sky. I could hear the sudden cries of alarm from the humans as i fell from the sky. I smiled and caught myself about five feet from the ground and dropped the rest of the way.

Looking up at the sky all I could think was how much I loved this planet.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #humans #iqi #space australia #earth is space australia #spacetravel #australia #space fae #space fairy #human manuel #hybrid #Iqi:Arrival

[gay-jesus-probably]

so i’ve already done a well recieved text post on some actual facts about takashi shirogane and the entire thing is mostly joking but also completely my headcanons forever

but i figured in honour of season three just kidding i’ve been up all night reading voltron fanfiction havent gotten around to watching S3 yet so here some shiro headcanons that are actually my legit take on his life pre-kerberos

he’s only a partial american citizen. as a teenager, he was a japanese citizen with a school visa to attend the garrison, and after graduating he very easily recieved a work visa, but eventually for conveniences sake reluctantly went for partial citizenship once things started getting serious. he’s not happy about it. he’s in america for the space, he’s not a fan of the country as a whole.

and on the same note, due to being an american and japanese citizen, during the early stages of the kerberos mission set up (like years before launch) the publicity team initially tried to label him as an american astronaut. the second he found out, shiro very firmly demanded that everything related to him be marked with japans flag, not americas, thank you very much.

and again on that note, due to being the sole pilot of the furthest space mission ever, and doing it as a japanese astronaut, shiro met the prime minister of japan once. if there wasnt pictures of him with the prime minister, shiro probably would have convinced himself it wasnt real.

his first language was japanese, obviously. he learned how to read at about three, due to his parents reading to him literally every night, and also him being a genius. he didn’t give the faintest hint of a fuck about other languages, until he realised he wanted to join the galaxy garrison, at which point he went oh shit it’s only in english there, and started studying english like a madman. and spanish, because america’s got two official languages and you never know. and french and russian, because canada and russia are the other major players in space, and you can never be too careful.

mind you he learned these all in a purely academic setting as a teenager, so while he was fluent in all of them by the time he was old enough for the garrison, he was unpleasantly surprised to find that everyone used too much slang and contractions, and he was speaking in a very stilted and mechanical way with a hell of an accent. it took him about a year to get his english to a natural level, and he put up with harrasment for years until he managed to completely scrub out his accent. as a result, the majority of his friends at the garrison were other ESL students from overseas. he still kept every single one of his electronics set to japanese, and when tired, distracted or stressed, if someone tries to talk to him he is much more likely to respond in japanese without noticing. any time he’s returning from a trip home to visit his family, for the first week he starts every other sentence in rapid japanese, stops halfway through, thinks it over, and repeats himself in slower english. its rough to switch over.

he started going by shiro because in his first year, luck of the draw meant he was the only non-american in his astrophysics class, and the instructor was one who believed in groupwork and lots of it, so within a month everyone was acquaintances. there was mass confusion about if shiro’s name was shirogane or takashi, and attempts to explain made it worse. the matter was not helped by this being first year, and shiro not having the best grasp on conversational english. eventually he gave up and just told them all to call him shiro, because just shirogane sounded weird when everyone else went by their first names, and people kept pronouncing takashi weird so he gave up and took a nickname. it grew on him and he stuck with it.

while the garrison had the most international students out of any school in america, it was still very much a predominantly american school with 60% of the students being american. another 20% were canadian, british or australian. white native english speakers were a vast majority, and shiro had to deal with some racists. the racists he honestly didnt mind too much, because he could just physically drag them to an instructor he knew was sympathetic, explain what happened, and boom problem solved. what he absoloutely fucking hated were the weeaboos. he hated them. hated them so much. as a very attractive japanese teenager, he was getting weird fetishizing love letters at least once a month. and the amount of times he got invited to join the anime club. explaining to them that no he actually couldnt stand anime was too much of a chore to be worth it. eventually he worked out how to be juuuust enough of an asshole that they went away, but he wasnt in trouble for it. it was a very frustrating part of his life.

he grew up on hokkaido, specifically in sapporo because hunk and lance are both from tropical islands, keith is from desert texas, and pidge probably lived in the south her whole life because her father was a Big Deal with the galaxy garrison, which is the evolved form of NASA, and NASA operated entirely in the south. my canadian heart cannot handle an entire team thats used to just different shades of fucking hot, i need one of them to be from freeze your balls off up north, and its gotta be shiro.

although ironically, while shiro was more than happy to join the unofficial tradition of students from cold areas laughing at students from warm areas whenever the temperatures dropped, shiro was spending most of the year in florida, where the garrison is, and going back to sapporo during the summer for breaks, as the winter and spring break werent long enough to make the flights worth it. his tolerance for the cold dropped dramatically. his first year after graduating, he went back to sapporo in december for the first time, and was very displeased to realise that he was not prepared for the cold anymore. not prepared at all. oh god. holy shit.

after his application into the garrison was approved, things were a bit awkward for shiro because this meant unenrolling from the high school he’d been attending, and waiting to start class in the new semester at the galaxy garrison. he got the acceptance in spring. classes in japan start in april. classes in america start in september. it was like being on break, but it lasted half a year. it was surreal for shiro. i mean sure, there was preparing to go to america alone, but passport and visa prep only takes up so much time, and luggage/packing isnt a problem until the week leading up to leaving. he spent a lot of time lying around the house during that half year. you can only study alone for so long before you need to do something else. the sudden switch from the highly pressured japanese school enviroment to ~nothing to do~ was very jarring, but ended up functioning as a sort of gap year. as a genius kid, he was under a lot of pressure. being able to take a step back and breathe did him a world of good.

shiro is extremely foul mouthed, but has a reputation for almost never swearing. this is because he never completely gets the hang of english swearing, and decides to just not bother with working out how to properly say things that will land him in shit anyways. but he swears. almost constantly. just, in japanese. its hilariously common for other students to think “oh, there goes shiro, thinking outloud to himself” while shiro is actually violently swearing under his breath about forgetting his notes in his dorm. in his last year, he accidentally traumatized a first year from tokyo, when he was attempting to find a book he needed for his thesis from the library, and the computer he was using refused to cooperate. this led to him furiously cursing out the poor computer. in earshot of the first year, whose offended gasp was legendary. shiro immediately bribed her into secrecy. noone must know.

shiro realised he was pansexual during his half year hangtime between high school and garrison. while not exactly locked in the closet, he didn’t really think the information needed to be shared with anyone, and he was too busy with classes to really want to date anyone. he was only trying to hide his orientation from the weeaboos, mentioned earlier, who would have gotten even worse with the creepy fetishizing and never left him alone. he’s never really dated, and his experience is fooling around with other cadets, and the occasional one night stand when he was older with civilians his age in the nearby town. upon being considered for the kerberos mission, he immediately started very carefully making sure nobody found out about his sexuality. the first public broadcast from the kerberos ship was live to the world, and ended with shiro cheerfully declaring himself the first openly pansexual man in space. mission control had not been warned of this. the only parties warned in advance were sam and matt holt, and they both strongly approved of the idea.

after the kerberos team was declared dead from pilot error, it eventually came out that the garrison had no idea what caused the mission failure, and that the ship just suddenly lost communication and vanished, and that the pilot had been a convenient scapegoat. there was immediate backlash from a great deal of parties. over two dozen different LGBT and/or POC rights groups filed lawsuits against the Garrison, calling rascism and/or homophobia. international relations between america and japan turned frosty. shiro had previously been considered a national tragedy crossed with embarrasement for apparently fucking up such an important mission, but oh the speed at which that turned around. multiple cities, including sapporo and tokyo, comission statues of shiro practically overnight. he immediately swung around to national tragedy crossed with hero.

#voltron #voltron legendary defender #shiro #takashi shirogane

[junker-town]

No, Tour de France riders don’t get bored on flat stages ... usually

Long flat stages are the lowlights of every Tour de France, but riders are doing much more in the peloton than you may think.

Flat stages are the bane of the Tour de France. To get from one gorgeous mountain vista to the next, the Tour sometimes needs to fill in the distance with long transfers that go over relatively uninteresting (though still mostly lovely) landscape in between. These stages are often inconsequential in the yellow jersey competition. From personal experience, they’re good background for summer naps.

For the riders, there is barely any time to be gained in the overall classification, so the biggest names often hold back, preferring to save their effort for the mountains where a good attack can take minutes out of their opponents. Flat stages can feel like exercises in risk management — until the very end, usually the last minute or two of a six-hour stage, when the sprinters bolt for the finish.

At the 2018 Tour de France, several riders criticized a 231-kilometer near-paper flat Stage 7 ride from Fougères to Chartres. Six-time green jersey winner Peter Sagan called it a “boring day.” Movistar’s Alejandro Valverde said that long stages like that “make no sense.” For viewers who aren’t fiends for low-level helicopter shots of French châteaus, the action and stakes are too low to stay invested.

But though flats are tough to watch, those participating usually aren’t as bored as you might think. Every stage of the Tour de France is an opportunity for something to go wrong, and that puts riders on edge.

Christian Vande Velde, now a cycling commentator for NBC Sports Network, rode 11 times in the Tour de France. He has occupied both domestique and team leader roles in the Tour before, shepherding Lance Armstrong to two of his stripped yellow jerseys in 1999 and 2001 before finishing fourth in 2008. He says that ceasefires flat stages would only occur “once in a blue moon.”

“It’s hard to explain a lot of times just from the chopper or the motorcycle, what you see at home, where it looks like a walk in the park,” Christian Vande Velde says. “In perfect world scenario conditions — let’s say, the break’s out, there’s zero wind, and it’s 65 degrees out, and it’s just a beautiful day — then maybe we’ll have a day that’s civilized. But those days are so far and few between. [There might be] a corner, and then after that there’s going to be exposed crosswinds 50K into the stage. You don’t really have big chunks of time where you truly let your guard down.”

Ryan Siu

Team Ineos riders Gianni Moscon, left, and Egan Bernal, right, talking after finishing Stage 1 in Brussels.

The misconception that flat stages are “easy” may come from the idea that the Tour de France is solely a competition to win the yellow jersey. True, the maillot jaune is one of the most iconic prizes in sports, but every rider and team has its own goals that may have nothing to do with the general classification. The green jersey competition, for example, rewards the individual with the most points, and is largely considered the “sprinters” jersey because the winner is frequently the rider who most dominated the flats.

Transfer stages are also days for breakaway riders from small wild card teams to earn television coverage for their sponsors and, on occasion, sneak a stage victory.

“The Tour de France, there are maybe five guys who want to win, and then maybe 10, 15 climbers,” says Jens Voigt, who started a record 17-straight Tours. “That still leaves 160 guys out there, they are normal, and they can only win on non-mountain stages.”

Voigt, also now working for NBC, was a breakaway artist who won two individual Tour stages across his career. “I’d go with the breakaway where I know the chances are one to 10 that I don’t make it. But hey, one to 10 is much better than zero, right?”

“People like me, we never had easy days,” he adds. “Earlier in my career I was on a French team, and we never had a GC contender, so every time we would hit the mountains, the sport director would come into our team bus, and in a dramatic gesture he would just close the race book and go, ‘Boys, we are on holiday now. The next three days in the mountains in the Alps, we cannot win, we go on hibernation.’ Which is in a funny way actually stupid. It’s the fucking Tour de France, nobody can be on hibernation.”

Stress makes the Tour de France unique. No other cycling competition is as closely watched. At a lesser event, both Vande Velde and Voigt admit that they are more likely to let their minds wander, or talk to riders on others team who they haven’t seen in a long time. For Tour-focused riders like them, many events were considered warmups for the Grand Boucle. If inattention led to a mistake on the road, the consequences weren’t severe if they didn’t affect their ability to race in July.

Mistakes during the Tour could invalidate an entire year of targeted preparation, however. Not to mention put riders at risk.

“The biggest difference with the Tour is just that heightened sense, just the total stress on your adrenal system or your central nervous system when there’s always fans lining the road, there’s always people with airhorns and throwing water, or beer. Or selfie sticks now, and iPads in your face,” Vande Velde says. “There’s always that little bit of danger.”

Riders and teams focusing on the yellow jersey put a lot of work in during flat stages to make sure their team leader stays upright. Crashes often occur during the transfer-loaded first week of the Tour, when energy in the peloton is high and nerves are tight. No one wants to cede ground, and when wheels touch in a tightly-packed peloton, the domino effect takes over, sending dozens of riders to the ground.

The safest place to ride is the very front of the peloton — the fewer people in front of you, the better — but it is also the most difficult place to ride, unshielded from the wind. Riders at the back of the peloton, meanwhile, practically get pulled down the course in the large slipstream created by the mass of riders in front of them, but flirt recklessly with cycling’s rotten luck by doing so. In between both ends of the peloton, teams and riders are constantly maneuvering to find their preferred balance of workload and risk, or to put their stage win-contenders in positions to attack.

“For a spectator on TV, yes, you see, ‘Oh, they’re just riding along.’ But there’s still so much underneath the surface,” Voigt says. “Thrill, and tactics and smartness and cleverness going on.

“And games, right? You can have teams that help each other, and the next day they fight against each other. One day, Cav [Mark Cavendish, and [Marcel] Kittel, and [André] Greipel will work together, and the next day go, ‘No, I don’t talk to you, I have somebody in the breakaway, I’m not going to work today.’ And then the day after they need to work again together.”

Ryan Siu

Julian Alaphilippe getting ready to start Stage 4 of the 2019 Tour de France.

So much hyper-awareness takes a toll on riders after three weeks. Voigt, in particular, was good at maintaining positive thoughts — “You think about the last win you had, or you think about a stage you won last year, or you think about the family, the next children’s birthday coming up” — and a process he calls “erase and rewind.”

“I swear, not to save my life, an hour after the stage I couldn’t name the start or finish town,” he says. “I would go back into the team bus, have a cold drink, read my book, or play stupid games on my Game Boy or on my phone just to keep my mind occupied and away from cycling. And I would only look into the race book the next day before the stage to memorize where’s the sprint.”

Yet even the aura and pressure of the Tour de France can’t override the human instinct to look around when they have a moment’s respite. Vande Velde remembers the first time he saw Versailles.

“We were going like 65k an hour, and someone pointed it out to me. And that hit me, ‘Wow, holy shit, that’s amazing,’” Vande Velde says. “I think somebody almost went flying into the ditch. [Laughs]. And that’s the last time I ever looked at Versailles.”

Voigt remembers what might have been a hallucination of a death-defying maneuver by one of the Tour’s helicopter pilots.

“He actually did fly so low above the ground that he passed between the ground and 100,000 volts of electricity wires above him,” Voigt says. “And there’s not much space. These wires are high, yes, but a helicopter is a big machine.

“And I’m like, ‘Fuck, did only I see that, or did somebody else saw that?’ And I asked other people and nobody noticed.”

Stage 21 is the most famous of the Tour de France’s flat stages, a short, loosely-contested procession that takes several laps around the Champs-Elysées. On the final Sunday of the Tour, everybody but the sprinters takes their chance to say an overdue hello to the friends on other teams they’ve been unable to acknowledge for weeks. Only then do riders fully take stock of where they are.

“When you see the Eiffel Tower for the first time, when you see the Arc de Triomphe for the first time,” Vande Velde says, “people never forget that.”