#anyway my favourite part is the entire first half and then also that beat at 0:22 where missy reacts to the doctor pointing the thing at her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blu-joons · 3 years

Text

When You Struggle To Write Your Essay ~ Seventeen Reaction

S.Coups:

You could feel Seungcheol’s presence beside you as you typed away at your computer, glancing across at him, noticing the warm smile that he wore. “I just watched you switch tabs, you’re terrible at playing this game.”

“The essay is stupid,” you stated, slamming your hands on the desk, “Instagram is much better.”

“It’s also an unproductive way to spend your time,” he reminded you, lifting you out of the chair so that you could sit in his lap. “You’ve worked so hard on this essay, don’t let a bump in the road put you off now.”

You sighed back at him, “first of all, Instagram is a very productive way to spend my time and see what everyone else is up to. Secondly, I’ve spent well over an hour on this essay and haven’t got a damn word to show for it.”

“Like I said, you’ve just hit a bump,” Seungcheol tried to assure you, “but you can’t be so hard on yourself about it. Why don’t you take a break for a while, a proper break, at least get away from your computer?”

“Do you really think that’ll make life easier?” You questioned, smiling as he nodded back at you.

His arms tightened around your waist, “let’s do something to distract your mind, whatever you want to do. I’m sure when you come back to your work, you’ll find your flow once again.”

“Although I’ve just spent an hour on social media, I deserve a break, right?”

Jeonghan:

A gasp escaped from you as Jeonghan pulled away just as you leaned forwards to press a kiss against his lips. “I told you, no kiss until you get that section of your essay complete,” he teased, moving back away from you.

“Do you really want to play this game with me?” You sighed, sinking down in your chair.

“I told you how this was going to work, you can’t try and cheat your way out of doing your work by trying to kiss me when I’m not paying attention,” Jeonghan reminded you, taking a seat opposite your desk.

Your eyes stared helplessly back across at him, “why are you doing this to me? I thought it was just going to be a joke, I didn’t think you’d actually stop kissing me. How am I supposed to work without a kiss from you?”

“That’s for you to figure out,” he continued to joke, “I know that you can get this done, you’re just beating yourself up about it right now. The section is nearly complete, and then I promise that I am all yours.”

“Are you going to sit there and tease me whilst I write?” You asked, unsurprised to see his head nod.

He settled himself back against the desk chair, “I’m not going to tease, I’m just going to sit here and remind you of the reward that you’ll get once you finally get that part of the essay done.”

“That’s definitely teasing Jeonghan, no way is it a reward.”

Joshua:

The smell of food caught your attention before Joshua even managed to walk into your apartment. “Don’t be getting any ideas,” he warned you, “this is for you only if you’ve finished writing that paragraph, I left you on.”

“It’s all written, I promise, you can come and see for yourself,” you spoke, pointing it out to him.

“See, I told you that you’d be able to do it,” he proudly smiled, relieved to see you’d finally completed the paragraph you’d been stuck on for most of the afternoon. “It’s a good job I went out and got your favourite too.”

Your eyes lit up, silently cursing at yourself for not recognising the smell of the food straight away. “You’re the best, thank you so much. Let me just save what I’ve done and then I’ll be through to join you for dinner.”

“I wouldn’t move too quickly,” Joshua called out to you, “I went out and got dessert too, but you can only have that if you write another paragraph. And don’t even try and argue with me because I know you’re capable.”

“Are you really using food as a weapon to try and bribe me right now?” You asked of him.

With a smug smile, his head nodded back at you, “it’s working, isn’t it? I know the way to your heart, and it’s by nothing else but food, that’s how you’re going to get this essay done.”

“As bad as it is, I definitely think your right on that one.”

Jun:

When Junhui first began to ask you questions about your essay, you failed to understand what the point was, until slowly answers started to come together. “Write that down, you can use it in section three, can’t you?”

“I think so,” you hummed, writing it down anyway, noticing how big your document was getting.

“What else is there that you need to talk about?” He asked, peering over your shoulder to have a look at the essay brief. “It looks like we’ve managed to get quite a few ideas down for you to write there my love.”

Your head shook at how much was written, “I don’t know who taught you such an incredible skill but thank you for helping me to write almost my entire essay. I really have no idea what I’d do without you Jun.”

“It’s all on you, all I did was ask the questions, and you gave me the answers,” he reminded you, sitting back down on the bed behind you. “Do you want me to stick around whilst you write that into something resembling an essay.”

“It’s up to you, but don’t feel like you have to, you’ve done enough for me,” you assured him.

He shrugged back at you, making himself comfortable. “It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do. I could read over it too if you want when it’s done, make sure that it all makes sense?”

“That would be amazing, you really are the best Junhui.”

Hoshi:

Your smile grew as Soonyoung walked over to you, taking a seat at your desk, staring back at you. “I promise I’m not going to do anything; I’m just going to sit here as moral support whilst you carry on with your writing.”

“Do you know how distracting it is just to have your face there?” You laughed, gently pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Well, when you hit a brick wall or you’re struggling to think about what to write next, you can just look over at me and I can be your inspiration to try and figure out what it is that you want to write,” he assured you.

Your head shook back at him, “I don’t want to look back at my laptop now I get to look at you. I need to find a lot of inspiration for now, so I might just have to stare at you for a little while, as long as you don’t mind?”

“If it helps with your work, then there’s no complaints from me,” Soonyoung chuckled, resting his head into his hand. “Just don’t stare too long, because you might get lost in my eyes or something and forget about your work.”

“That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea,” you teased, moving a little closer towards him.

Soonyoung quickly moved you back, keeping a distance between the two of you. “You’ve got work to do, don’t be getting any ideas. You can have plenty of what you want when your work is done.”

“You’re a horrendous tease, I can’t believe you’d do that to me.”

Wonwoo:

The moment Wonwoo suggested giving you a helping hand with your essay, you knew it was going to do anything but help you out with your essay. “What even is this thing on? Surely even I can understand what it means.”

“It looks at patterns of migration in variations of native African animals,” you informed him, noticing how quickly his expression dropped.

“Alright, well, with a bit of research I’m sure I can contribute something,” he muttered underneath his breath, quickly doubting how effective his plan seemed to initially be. “Do you have a book or something on it?”

Your head shook, tapping the top of your head. “All the information is stored up here for me to remember, but because you said you’d be such a big help, I’m sure you don’t need a book to research anything, right?”

“Okay, so maybe I underestimated just how difficult your essay would be,” he admitted, sighing across at you, “I know it’s difficult, but you’ve just got to stick at it, I won’t have you give up on all of this now.”

“You’re meant to be the smart one between the two of us, and even you’re confused,” you sighed.

Wonwoo’s head shook, pressing a kiss against the top of your own. “You’re definitely the smart one, there’s no way I could ever do the work that your doing, it’s incredible, really.”

“The offer is still there if you want to write it for me.”

Woozi:

He failed to remember the last time he’d seen you move as he came out from his studio and noticed you still sat in front of your laptop. “Y/N?” He called out, only to be met by silence, walking across to you.

“Sorry,” you muttered as his hand waved in front of your face to try and wake you up. “When did you get out of the studio?”

“I don’t think that matters right now, what matters is waking you up a bit, you’re driving yourself crazy with this essay,” he frowned, pulling your chair away from your desk to give you a bit of room to stretch out.

Your head shook, reaching out to pull yourself back, only for Jihoon to get in the way. “I know that you care Jihoon, but I was only daydreaming for five minutes, we’ve both got work to do, so let’s get on with it, shall we?”

“If you think I’m going to let you go back to doing some work in your current state then you are very much mistaken Y/N.” He established continuing to stare down at you, “I can tell you’ve been daydreaming for a lot longer too.”

“Alright, so maybe I was out of it for a while, but that’s time I need to make up for,” you groaned.

Jihoon continued to shake his head back at you, “when I told you I wasn’t moving, I meant it. For once, I’m not messing around, I’m going to make sure that you look after yourself.”

“I’m too tired to even bother arguing anymore with you.”

DK:

As yet another yawn left you, it was the final straw for Seokmin, walking around to your desk and standing in between you and your laptop. “You’ve got two choices, nap with me, or go and have a nap by yourself.”

“Can’t I just decline both of them?” You questioned, trying to peer around his waist so that you could look back at your essay.

“I’m not budging, and these hips are wide,” he smiled, stepping each time you moved. “Y/N, you’re exhausted, and don’t even try to deny it. At least close your eyes for half an hour and then come back to your work.”

Your head tried to shake, but as it did, another yawn escaped, rendering your argument pointless. “I can sleep for days once this essay is submitted Min, but until then, a trip to bed will just have to wait for me.”

“You’re not going to win,” he joked, staring down at you in front of him. “We can either do this the easy way or the hard way, and I’m happy to do either. So, I’ll leave it up to you to decide what you want to do.”

“That depends, what’s the easy way and what’s the hard way?” You challenged back to him.

His head nodded, “I’m guessing you’ve chosen the hard way,” he announced, bending down and wrapping his arms around you before scooping you off of your chair with ease.

“I would’ve still chosen the easy way I’ll have you know.”

Mingyu:

A strong pair of arms wrapped around you, instantly drawing you out of the daydream that you found yourself in, staring at your half-written essay. “You’re coming with me for a while before you drive yourself crazy.”

“Mingyu, I need to get this done,” you huffed, trying to pull his arms away from your waist, but he was far too strong to budge.

“What you need to do, is forget about your essay for a while, and then you can go back to it with a clearer head in a bit,” he assured you, pulling you down on top of him as he fell onto the sofa, keeping a hold of you.

Despite your protests, it didn’t take long before you made yourself comfortable cuddled into his side. “I’ve still got plenty of work to do, no matter how much you want to use a break as an excuse to cuddle me.”

“I mean it was part of the reason, but also because I’m worried about you too. Everyone needs to take breaks, even if you think it’s wrong. You’ll go back to your essay and ace it,” he assured you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“You sound confident for someone that makes it very hard to leave a cuddle,” you joked.

Mingyu’s eyes rolled back at you, “to say you were reluctant to cuddle me, you’ve very quickly changed your tune. I guess cuddling me is never as bad as you think it is.”

“There’s nothing bad ever about cuddling with you.”

The8:

Minghao had watched you shut yourself away for far too long when it came to writing your essay, sensing just how unproductive you were getting. “Talk to me about it,” he announced when you stopped writing again.

“What are you on about?” You questioned, jumping slightly at the sound of his voice. “What are we supposed to talk about?”

“Your essay,” he smiled, placing his phone down beside him so that you had his full attention. “It’s supposed to help talking about things, so why don’t you give me some of your ideas and see what you think about them aloud?”

You stared questionably across at him, “are you really telling me that you want to sit here and listen to me talk to you about a subject you have no idea about? Did you even study psychology at school to know things?”

“I haven’t got a clue, but that might help. Explain it to me, and if it’s simple enough for me to understand, then it’s simple enough to go in your essay too, right?” He suggested, noticing the way in which your eyes lit up.

“Do you know, that might not be such a bad idea, I need the practice right now,” you grinned.

His head nodded, moving himself a little closer towards you, “why don’t you go from the beginning in that case, and make sure to write it down. I’m all ears whenever you’re ready.”

“Alright, I hope you’re prepared to pay close attention to me.”

Seungkwan:

As another sigh echoed out around the room, Seungkwan stood up from his own desk, walking around to you, resting his hands against your shoulders. “How’s it going?” He asked, staring at your empty page.

“Terribly,” you frowned, leaning back to rest against his chest, “do you fancy swapping and writing this for me Kwan?”

“I love you, but not enough to write a three-thousand-word essay,” he smiled, leaning down to press a kiss against the top of your head, “you’ve just got to keep working at it, and eventually it’ll all come together into something beautiful.”

His words were kind, but you were far from convinced. “I’ve stared at this screen for three hours, written one sentence, and then deleted it. It’s like I’m destined to just fail this essay and mess up my grades at the last minute.”

“Well, you won’t get very far with a negative attitude like that,” Seungkwan pointed out to you, “as hard as it is, you’ve just got to remain positive for now and trust in that brain of yours that the work will write itself.”

“My brain feels like it’s never been so useless as it is right now,” you continued to vent.

Seungkwan’s lips pressed against the top of your head, “you’re being too hard on yourself, just relax, and I promise that the work will come to you and you’ll get a great essay written.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without your positivity sometimes.”

Vernon:

Your brows furrowed as soon as you looked around to see your phone no longer on your desk, failing to remember where you’d last put it. “Looking for something?” A voice questioned, as the pieces very quickly came together.

“That’s unfair,” you cried out, unsurprised when you looked around to see Vernon holding onto your phone in his hands.

“You keep getting distracted, but you’re almost at the end, all you’ve got left to write is your conclusion. Let me keep a hold of this,” he propositioned, “and I bet in an hour you can have that essay completed to word count.”

Your eyes rolled, however good of an idea of his it seemed to be. “I was doing just fine with this work before you came over and stole my belongings. I’ve barely even been on my phone that much today you know.”

“Y/N, every time I look up, you’re typing away on your phone,” he chuckled, shaking his head at your protests. “You’ll thank me for doing this in a little while once your essay is complete and you’re not worrying anymore.”

“I’m not just typing, I’m doing research as well,” you tried to protest.

Vernon scoffed back at you, “Twitter is not research, however hard you want to try and convince yourself otherwise. Now, get it written, and then you can scroll through your feeds.”

“You really can be evil sometimes; do you know that?”

Dino:

It was obvious to Chan that you were beginning to struggle with your essay, you’d barely focused on it for quite some time, finding every distraction possible. “I’ve got a suggestion,” he called out as you picked up your phone again.

“What’s that?” You questioned, looking away from your computer to his figure that was sat across the room.

“I’ll order us takeout for dinner, my treat, if you get two hundred words done in the next hour,” Chan proposed, noticing how quickly your eyes lit up at the mention of food. “But only if you get your work done.”

A loud groan came from you, “I just knew that food would come at a price, it always does with you. Can’t we agree on one hundred, do you know how much effort two hundred words is going to take?”

“I do, but I also know how much better you’ll feel once you get it done,” he proudly smirked, knowing that he was right. “Just get your head done, if food isn’t a good enough goal for you to reach, I don’t know what is.”

“You promise that two hundred is all I need for takeout?” You quizzed.

Chan’s head nodded back at you with a laugh, “I promise, as soon as you add two hundred words to that essay, a menu of your choosing will be ordered for dinner, and all paid for by me.”

“Alright, I guess I better get my head down then.”

---

Masterlist

208 notes · View notes

galadhremmin · 3 years

Note

We have derived Caranthir liking the Dwarves (and vice versa) because apparently, Finrod succeeds in every field Caranthir fails, and at this point it's clear this derives from the in-universe writer of the Silm and his own biases. Think about it: "Dark Finwë" , a grumpy, prejudiced lordling, and "Hair Champion", most handsome, noble king, have met with the same people!! Yet the king of the first secret kingdom is everyone's friend, but the prince that trades with them regularly is not... seems sus.

Hence, Caranthir is friends with the Dwarves. (But that is just an interpretation, so you're free to think what you wish, I just have several opinions on in-universe prejudice and the almighty narrative.)

I think that 'we' might actually have been Dawn Felagund years ago. Maybe this reading existed even before that, but I doubt that-- she's been very influential in silm fandom and was long before tumblr was much of a thing. https://dawnfelagund.com/caranthir-the-slandered

I wouldn't say it's 'clear' that what amounts to Caranthir's entire documented personality derives from the bias of the in-universe narrator, though as you can see from Dawn's writing it's a reading you can argue for. There are a number of different approaches you can take to the Silm and its biases anyway. One of the few times when it's absolutely clear the text isn't telling the entire story is when it talks about the Easterlings. I've posted about this before but the recorded names are, uhh.... the ones to betray the elves are unlikely to actually have been named things like 'ugly lord' and 'ugly beard.' 'Dark Finwe' on the other hand is a documented reference to his haircolour being dark like Finwe's own; hardly a negative judgement!

I personally think Caranthir can be exactly as ill-tempered and prejudiced as the Silm paints him without becoming an unsympathetic character. If a writer cannot make a moody, deeply prejudiced man an interesting character that is a failure as a writer; there are after all enough books who manage exactly that. That is not to say choosing not to write him that way is a failure (obviously not), but it's not necessary in order to make a reader feel for him at all.

Just going by the text, I think it actually might make for a more interesting narrative to explore in fic to me. Because he does change his mind about something, and at a very specific moment; when he meets the Haladin. That is much less dramatic if he secretly been as nice and popular as Finrod, and got along with everyone all the time already. He's been raised by Fëanor, who said things like 'No other race shall oust us!' and rallied the Noldor not motivated enough by vengeance for Finwë alone by playing on their deep-seated fear of being replaced by the Secondborn. Very unlikely that had no impact. At best it has made him uninterested in humans in his area (while they're not much of a threat to ruling instead of the elves anyway). The text says they paid them no heed.

And yet! Caranthir sees how brave Haleth and her people are. He 'does her great honour.' He changes his mind and offers them lands. His tragedy to me is not that of a slandered figure, but of this deeply, deeply prejudiced person raised to distrust the motivations of human beings -- who overcomes those beliefs, offers friendship, is rejected! then extends that same trust to the Easterlings anyway... and it's those specific Easterlings, not the ones who ally with his brothers-- who betray them all. And cause the disastrous ending of the Nirnaeth. It's the 'to evil end shall all things turn that they begin well' part of the curse hitting him in the least fair way possible. Someone finally changes for the better, and the outcome is treason and destruction.

That is a very good character arc to me, actually. His aesthetics-based scorn for the Dwarves is reprehensible but strikes me as deeply Elvish, and part of his prejudices. Naugrim is too unflattering a name for them for it not to be common. His temper-- well why can't he have one? Sure there's only one recorded instance -- but that's imo because there are hardly any conversations in the Silm! Anyway I like some people with tempers well enough. Personally I think people are missing out on opiniated grouches.

Obviously the biased anti-Feanorian Pengolodh reading is a nice one, and I have enjoyed a lot of stories written based it. But it's not at all a reading that is necessary for me to read Caranthir as a flawed but sympathetic character. He can have serious faults and still, ultimately, be someone I feel for.

What I was asking though was if I overlooked any canon evidence of Caranthir being particularly, personally fond of the Dwarves; and it seems I did not. Also; there is room for Caranthir growing to like the Dwarves over centuries without an anti-Feanorian bias reading this strong, there is simply no evidence for friendship in the rather barebones narrative (I'm not interested atm because it's wildly overdone to me & I like variety).

That said, in my opinion making Caranthir the hidden, slandered Feanorian Finrod equivalent with a dash of Curufin's Dwarf affection is not as enjoyable as simply working with what little canon character is actually there. Because there is one (and it's not the greedy tax collector of some fanon depictions either imo)

1. To start with, wrt Caranthir as the anti-Finrod, I don't think it works that well. Sure sure dark/light, open/prejudiced, repressed/shouty, but different motivations, different locations, plus they meet very different peoples even if both are Edain-- besides, Caranthir's own older brothers do successfully ally with the Easterlings without betrayal, while Curufin (much more so than Finrod! no Khuzdul for Finrod!) is the Dwarves' Friend(tm). Also, a flawed Finrod already exists. That's just the regular edition. He has his own faults and (very different) tragic arc.

If Finrod never seems to have strong prejudices to overcome, and if he's not confrontational (which... look he's a diplomat. Make of that what you will. Pretty awkward there in Doriath, buddy!) he does have trouble facing his own complicity (he wanted to sail those ships despite the murders) until Sauron beats him to death with it. He leaves Valinor with the idea of ruling but he has to give up the crown. He's ambitious, he seems emotionally repressed, he's.. possibly paying the greater Dwarves to drive the Petty Dwarves out of their ancestral home to build a city? Oops. Depending on the version you go with in that case, of course; there's also ones where he's free of the blame of that one. Not of wanting to sail those ships and being uneasy with the guilt wrt wanting to do so despite their being stolen and murdered for though. No he doesn't kill; but he wants to use the result of it anyway, and to make it worse he is actually half Telerin.

There's also (to be fair, only for sure after the disaster of the Sudden Flame because that's the recorded instance) his guards killing random innocent trespassers to keep his kingdom hidden -- yes, that's right there in Silm, yes he's still King at the time. Beren has to wave that ring. People just seem to miss that he'd be killed without it somehow.

I think it's just too easy to reduce him to the golden perfect opposite of Caranthir. Yes he's described more positively; he's also just mentioned more because unlike Caranthir he rules an actual kingdom, the greatest and richest in Beleriand in fact; and does things that have a lot of very longterm effects, like helping B&L steal a Silmaril. They don't 'meet the same people' anyway -- the Haladin have a different culture from the Beorians which contributes to their reaction to Caranthir (and iirc their later fate).

Sidenote: Dawn's essay attributes the Green Elves helping the Feanorians at Amon Ereb to Caranthir's diplomatic skills; but why not to those of Amras or Amrod? This is the quote; 'Caranthir fled and joined the remnant of his people to the scattered folk of the hunters, Amrod and Amras, and they retreated and passed Ramdal in the south. Upon Amon Ereb they maintained a watch and some strength of war, and they had aid of the Green-elves' -- nothing here indicates it was Caranthir who got them that aid. In fact A&A are the hunters, i.e. more likely to have roamed in various forests where they would have encountered Green Elves, imo.

There's also the very desperate times to consider in which this aid takes place. This is just post Sudden Flame, and even if the Green Elves didn't like Caranthir they probably liked him better than Morgoth. Also, speaking of cosmopolitans, Maedhros allies with, yes, Dwarves (Azaghal), Grey elves, Easterlings (and you might say: Fingolfinians); even part of the remaining people of Dorthonion rally to Himring post sudden flame (that means Edain and Arafinwean followers in Himring, at least for a time), and he manages to be friendly with Felagund despite calling him a badger. ;)

Finrod is not the only other leader to forge diverse alliances, and though B&L ends happily his people mostly do not. Caranthir's not much like Finrod in any way. Not in motivations, temperament, tragic arc. That's fine. No hidden kingdom for a dragon to eat either. Finrod could probably do with being a little less like Finrod sometimes, though he's well-intentioned and likable. Caranthir loves to shout and isn't sneaky. Good for him.

2. Curufin also already exists. His love for Dwarves is one of his defining and redeeming characteristics and boy does he need them. He's daddy's favourite, a sneaky overambitious bitchy bastard who is also a talented smith and linguist, and truly considered a Dwarf friend, which is apparently exceptional. He's quite flawed; tries to help Celegorm force a political marriage, laughs with a bruised mouth, seeming to lose his mind while attempting and failing murder after first losing his own stronghold and then the city he tried to take from his cousin. He's just... a personality. Mostly a bad one! You can feel for him though, because he seems like an utter mess. Many 'i would love to study you' feelings on my part. Would hate for him to be real but also I'd pay to be his therapist.

3. And then finally there's Canon Caranthir. A difficult, prejudiced person who despite that (which doesn't at all have to mean there is no despite, the despite is what makes it juicy)

- seems to be responsible for re-establishing (large scale?) trade with the Dwarves, whatever he might think of them (and they of him) to their mutual benefit. I don't think he's greedy either. It seems like a mutually profitable situation. Access to Dwarvish goods seems pretty vital to Beleriand, and facilitating trade is a real service.

As someone pointed out in the replies, the Silm does mention Dwarvish companies travelling east to Nan Elmoth and menegroth various times, but quote wrt Caranthir says 'Caranthir’s people came upon the Dwarves, who after the onslaught of Morgoth and the coming of the Noldor had ceased their traffic into Beleriand' and 'when the Dwarves began again to journey into Beleriand.'

They stopped at some point and Caranthir's people made it happen again.

- which means he's practical. He seems like he's good at organising, and setting his own feelings aside if necessary despite his prejudice and temper (which is an achievement it wouldn't be without his, hm, everything). Also he and his people as well as the Dwarves work together well because ''either people loved skill and were eager to learn,' despite their (initial?) mutual dislike. Those aren't bad characteristics; seems like it was an exchange of skill as well as goods and possibly providing safe travel opportunities.

I don't like the 'greedy Caranthir' fanon and don't think it is even that easy support entirely with canon. 'They had of it great profit,' the text says-- both Caranthir and the Dwarves. They exchanged skills and knowledge and Caranthir seems to have helped them start trading in Beleriand again. That's hardly Scrooge Mcduck.

- Another thing we can say about canonthir (lol) is that he apparently attaches a lot of value to aesthetics (was he a visual artist? is a he a sculptor like Nerdanel? WORSE: AN ART CRITIC?! Feanorian art critic is truly nightmare fuel) and that's why he dislikes Dwarves (of all things...). Either way points to 'aesthetics' as something apparently important to Caranthir. Which makes sense given who his parents are. What is interesting to me is that this apparently DOESN'T matter to Curufin, who is a lot like Feanor in most things. That's interesting!

I've never, never seen this but I think it would be very funny to attribute his aesthetic prejudices to Nerdanel. I love her; but why should her opinions be perfect? I know she wasn't considered beautiful herself, but she's an artist. She's got to have had some strong opinions on aesthetics anyway. I doubt it's the beards; Mahtan had one as well. And 'stunted'...at least some of this comes down to the Elvish obsession with height yet again. Hm.

- eventually Caranthir overcomes what have to be some very deeply held beliefs about human beings and their place in the world, and offers what for all intents and purposes looks like real friendship, not the ruling over Men Feanor seems to have had in mind at best. He's capable of real change!

Anyway his character works just fine to me from canon, and what he achieves and the ways in which he fails are more interesting that way rather-- neither slandered Feanorian Finrod 2.0 nor Curufin 'Dwarf Fan' Feanorion without the sneakiness and murder attempts pack the same punch as a stupidly prejudiced grouchy man doing his best anyway for centuries in this stupid ugly cursed land, eventually changing for the better, opening up-- and being brutally punished for it by the Doom.

Dammit. I hope there's therapy in the Everlasting Darkness.

hm a bit long but that's what I get for trying to gather my thoughts wrt why after considering it a bit transferring Curufin's love for Dwarves to Caranthir is a bit boring to me personally. Though there are still stories that still do it very well.

#no one asked including me but there you go anyway #that's what you get when i wake up at nearly 3 in the morning and thnk. FUCK i can't sleep #caranthir

95 notes · View notes

onelovewonderwoman · 3 years

Text

first class || charles xavier x reader

i’ve been on an x-men binge and fell into a hole of james mcavoy and charles xavier again, so here we are. i haven’t written fics in a long time, so i tried to again. i’m uncreative so like the title is just the first movie because of the fact that it’s set during that time. kind of like self insert cause there’s a few bits and pieces where there’s canonical plot and interactions, so disclaimer for that. anyways, hope you guys enjoy! ps also don’t have enough energy to find a fitting gif so maybe i’ll find one later maybe i won’t. we’ll see

words: 5.8k

warnings: not proofread (i spent three days on this so i don’t have the energy anymore haha), writing lacks emotional depth, drug use and mentions, intent of murder, thoughts of (murder, rape, suicide, etc.), poorly written two paragraphs about kissing, angst, we ignore moira and charles’ romance cause... duh, it’s x reader and it’s too difficult for me to work around it rn a haha

masterlist

The rooms were always the same. They were dark, illuminated only by the dimmest of lights emanating from the occasional lava lamp or fairy lights. Fairy - ironic word for such situations, such rooms. Filled so heavily with smoke it made it hard to breathe, let alone see. And the floors; the floors always felt different.

In hindsight, it was probably the one thing that had her realizing the rooms were never actually the same. Sure, they had the same smell, the same overcrowdedness and moving bodies, the same darkness, even the same taste, but the floors testified to the difference each room held.

Sometimes, when the world would freeze and all the people around her became nothing but a mesh of warm bodies, she could hear the floor creak under her feet with every step she took. There she was - the house right down the street from her.

Other times, the floors felt sticky under her shoes. She assumed it was tequila. There were always too many bottles around to count, surely there would be spills. Or, some poor guy could have pissed himself like that one time. When her shoes sounded like velcro as she walked across the floor, she was at the house all the way across town.

In any case, she felt the same ankle up. One of her favourite parts had to be the way the music always abused her ears - so high, it made her feel lightheaded. More so than she already had been both. Sex was not nearly regular enough for her to compare, but she knew what she would feel every time the music was loud enough to make her head buzz and throb with a vengeance was more erotic than anything anyone could ever do to her.

The place could change but the scene never really did. Down to the people - she knew this for sure. She knew every beating heart around her like they were her own. She never only felt it there, but in her head as well. Even as it buzzed, she felt it. Sometimes it tore at her skull as if trying to escape - ironic.

Now, why did the scene change one evening in 1962? She told herself it was fate, but it had merely been wishful thinking when she knew why. How did she know? She knew the man sitting next to her on the worn down couch, nearly entirely unconscious and reeking of weed and vodka, knew the girl across the house, the girl across the house knew the man next to her and that - so on and so forth - meant she knew all three of them, even though they didn’t know her. So, for two new men to walk into the house, their eyes focused - focused on her - changed the scene entirely.

Now, the music became nothing more than an assault on her ears; the lights became too bright at the same time as the dark became too dark; the air became heavier than usual; and she sobered up at the feeling of something - someone - in her head. Then, it all caved in. It was as overwhelming as it always was, but she was used to it enough to handle it for a little while, at least whilst remnants of her high remained. She couldn’t say the same for the shorter of the two men she saw keel over at the pressure.

He got over it pretty quick, from what she could tell. “Charles Xavier,” he introduced himself as, “This is my colleague, Erik Lensherr.”

A quick trip from the couch to the door had her standing on the lawn of the house of the night with the two men. Crickets could be heard fighting against the sound of the music blaring from the house as she swayed on her feet, making wet sounds in the grass from earlier rain. Charles stood not much taller than her, charm emanating from him and the way his piercing blue eyes seemed to smile despite his furrowed brows and mouth set in a straight line as he stared at her, waiting for a response with his hands tucked into his coat pockets. Erik stood taller, stoic and calculating.

“And?” She crossed her arms across her chest, both in discomfort and the fact that the chilly night air had begun to bite at her skin, her long sleeve doing nothing to help. “I should care why?”

If the incident earlier wasn’t enough, the way the both of them looked at her was enough for her to know why. “What’s your name?” Charles asked, having her notice then the English accent on his tongue.

The second she gave it to him, he smiled - almost sympathetically - at her and hummed, “You have an incredibly busy mind, Y/N.”

“And you have an incredibly nosy one, Charles.” That had Erik letting out a chuckle, one that felt like approval to her ears.

Never in a million years would she dare say yes to anything of the sort the two men proposed to her that night. A team of mutants; not necessarily that she thought it was absurd or a horrible idea - no. It made sense, not factoring in their current climate, to have a team of mutants fighting against the evils of the world. The horrible idea was to have her join. No, she wanted to tell them, “I don’t think it’s such a good idea.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking too,” Erik agreed with her, catching both herself and Charles off guard, “We’ll be going then.”

He offered her his hand. She didn’t know how long she stood there staring at his outstretched arm. Sometimes her high slowed time - it could have been five seconds or five minutes. When she finally looked away from his hand, up at him, she saw he stood unwavered and patient.

“You don’t have to, you know.” Her eyes shot to Charles as he broke the silence. He shook his head, brows still furrowed and mouth set in a straight line. “You’re under no obligation.”

For Charles to know, she understood. He had just been in her mind long enough to know that most of it wasn’t even hers. For Erik to know and offer her his hand made her wonder just how desperate he was to assemble the team - for whatever reason that she was about to find out in a moment.

“We leave now.” Was all he said after he tore his hand from hers.

An hour hasn’t even passed when she found herself on a plane with the two men, mind still buzzing but this time not with a high. This time, with an overwhelming anger and anticipation. The way Erik didn’t make eye contact with her and Charles sent worried glances her way throughout their trip to their “base” was enough to tell her that they knew she had already been briefed on what was happening - the reason behind their assembling of a team. Rather, she knew specifically of the personal motive behind it.

All it made her heart feel like it was beating a mile a minute. It pounded against her chest so hard she was sure at least one of them could hear it. So badly did she want to hide out in the plane’s bathroom and take something to stop the pain, but it was off the table. For now.

Soon enough the flight ended, and she came to find out their “base” was a covert CIA facility where they placed the other mutants they rounded up before her. She just as quickly met and said goodbye to Moira MacTaggert, a CIA officer working with Charles and Erik to stop Shaw. His name alone sent sparks of rage flowing through her veins.

She was left with the group when the three went off that night. There, she came face to face with Raven, Sean, Alex, Hank, Darwin, and Angel - or, Mystique, Banshee, and Havok. Darwin and Angel were “self explanatory”, considering they were already nicknames and described their powers fairly well. Hank was just… Hank.

Her turn came around quickly, once everyone settled down from Alex’s show of his “gift”, when all heads turned to her, sitting at the end of the couch. Raven smiled at her - she liked her, she was sweet - “What about you? What’s your power?”

“I’m,” She paused for a moment, the eyes on her making her anxious and curl into herself hoping, praying, another mutant wouldn’t touch her. “I can move things. With my mind.” She gave a tight smile to Raven and nodded her head, as if to reassure herself. “I can move things with my mind.”

Raven’s smile only widened, excited by either the prospect of her being able to move things with her mind or the opportunity to give her an alias. She assumed it was the latter. She excused herself to the washroom just as Raven asked the group what they thought. “We’ll have one for you once you get back! Promise!” Raven called after her.

Body filled with anticipation, she nearly ran to the washroom, willing the door closed behind her after she entered. It was small, but clean - CIA property after all.

She tried. She really did. Albeit, making contact with a mutant was always the worst; Erik especially. The trauma, the pain, the thoughts. All them clawed at her brain, as though they were tearing through it layer by layer until nothing but them remained within her skull.

Nothing could stop her from taking out the small baggy in her back pocket and tearing it open. Nothing could stop her from taking it, only to feel a rush flow through her. It would take a bit, but soon enough she would stop feeling them gnawing on her very existence. Soon, numbness would wash over her and she could just be no one.

She guessed she was in the washroom for about half an hour. Staring at her reflection, at the floor, at the ceiling, at anything, but when she made her way back to the room, she found it in disarray. Music was blasting from the radio, chairs flipped over, Raven on top of the couch dancing as Hank hung from the ceiling light, the rest of the group messing around with their powers. She couldn’t tell if they were experiencing some high of their own or just happened to have gotten their hands on some alcohol.

“What are you doing? Who destroyed the statue?” Moira’s voice broke her out of the trance she was in watching the group. Slowly, she turned her head to see her, Charles, and Erik walking over as everyone else froze. Moira was angry, that much anyone could tell, but the two men were unreadable.

Hank was the first one to reply back, jumping down the ceiling, panicked, “It was Alex.”

“No. Havok.” Raven seemed to stay unfazed, still standing on the couch with a wide smile on her face. “We have to call him Havok. That's his name now…”

Raven’s words melted away from her. Her focus wasn’t elsewhere; it was simply nowhere at all. She stared at everyone in the room, yet no one at all. So caught up in nothing she didn’t notice Charles himself staring at her until Erik uttered something under his breath and walked away with Moira following, brows furrowed in what looked to be confusion. Just as she caught his eye, he looked away.

Directed at Raven, he spoke firmly, “I expect more from you.”

Not long after, they had gotten word that Shaw would be in Russia, and so she was left with the group of mutants when the three left alongside the CIA to get their hands on him. Before, it would have made her wonder what purpose the group of mutants really served if they didn’t want them there to help. Now, after the incident, she understood why.

By no means were any of them prepared for such a task. She couldn’t claim to be either. She only agreed because she knew a part within her would hate her for not coming and at the very least trying to help.

Just when she thought she and the solemn group couldn’t be any more of a liability, she was proven wrong. Because now Sebastian Shaw stood in front of them, smug and irritating as ever, after having his lackey drop an unsuspecting CIA to his death in front of all of them and cornering them.

“Good evening. My name's Sebastian Shaw, and I'm not here to hurt you.” She was sure she wasn’t the only one assuming he had taken out every single CIA operative in the facility to make it this far; a thought that filled her being with even more dread than she was already feeling at the sight of him. “My friends, there's a revolution coming. When mankind discovers who we are, what we can do, each of us will face a choice. Be enslaved or rise up to rule. Choose freely, but know that if you are not with us, then by definition, you are against us. So, you can stay and fight for the people who hate and fear you. Or you can join me, and love like kings and queens.”

They all watched, both shocked and betrayed when Angel took the hand Shaw outstretched, standing by his side even when he murdered Darwin in his attempt to stop him with Alex. She didn’t see it - she turned away the second Shaw released the energy he’d taken from Alex into Darwin. She heard it, though. The explosion. When she turned back, as Shaw, Angel, and the men he had brought with him retreated, she saw nothing. There was no sign of Darwin; not even a speck of dust.

Suddenly, her chest tightened and the clawing came back.

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

The person who happened to almost send them home also happened to be the one who provided them a new place to train their powers for the fight with Shaw. Charles was entirely serious and extremely close to sending them all home; “They’re just kids.” But Erik made it clear to him that they couldn’t be anymore, not after Shaw.

Charles lived, alongside Raven, in a massive mansion that had been entirely too big for her to take in, but it provided the perfect space for them to train their powers. Each of them were assigned rooms by Charles personally that day.

He took the liberty of walking them each there. She didn’t know if it was just her or a Charles thing, but he stayed quiet. Unusual for a man that had so much to say. But then again, with what they’ve already been through, she couldn’t imagine he was feeling very chatty. She certainly wouldn’t have been in his situation. Granted, she would be feeling the same way now, but in her predicament by this point, she wouldn’t mind someone else’s verbal company.

The second he guided her through the bedroom

door, she began to take in the sheer size of the room, feeling bigger than life itself in the way that she was feeling. The bed was even better; huge and looked as though the softness of it would swallow her into a warm hug. Her first instinct would have been to jump right onto it, but the fact that Charles ceased to leave and instead remained planted there, giving her a look she couldn’t make out once she turned to face him, made her fight against her urges.

She opened her mouth in an attempt to utter an “Are you alright?” but never got the chance. Instead, Charles spoke as soon as her mouth opened, slowly, as if to make sure she understood every word he was saying like she had been incapable of doing so before, “Training starts tonight, but I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.”

With her brows furrowed in confusion, she nodded, and Charles began to walk away. He stopped by the frame of the door, back to her, and spoke again, “Try and get some rest.”

With that, he shut the door behind him. Now, she was left in the room alone, tiredness washing over her. Awaiting the next day, she decided to fall into the cloud that was the bed and fall asleep while she could.

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

The next morning was when Charles asked to see her - by Raven. The young woman led her over to a room, an odd dome shaped one, where Charles stood waiting. He wasn’t the same as the night before - uncomfortable, was the only way she knew to describe it - welcoming and encouraging.

“We’ve got plenty of work to do,” Charles spoke, hands in his pockets, as she entered and Raven excused herself elsewhere. Looking around, she could see evidence that training had started last night, namely Alex’s. Dark scuff marks were streaked across walls of the dome on the end farthest from them and small balls of fluff on the floor remained, assumingly left behind in the midst of a quick clean up of training dummies that had been torn open.

Despite the mess, several other objects were placed across the floor. All ranged from light to heavy. Chairs, weights - it looked to be anything he could have been capable of carrying in with the help of the others.

She stopped in front of him. “What’s this?”

The man’s smile widened before he started, rather loudly at that. “Well.” He moved towards the objects then spun around to face her, arms outstretched. “This is the beginning of your training.”

She raised an eyebrow, looking at the man unimpressed. “You want me to move this stuff around?”

“You’re not just moving stuff around.” Charles shook his head, arms dropping to his sides as he declared. “You don’t need to move everything here. I only need to see how much you can handle.” His head tilted as he looked at her, blue eyes meeting her own as his expression retreated to one of curiosity. “And how you handle it.”

She didn’t think the professor was aware of the innuendo within the situation, so she let it go despite the sweet stomach dropping feeling that came over her. Instead, she shrugged. “Then what?”

“Then,” Charles hesitated for a moment, “Erik was able to move a satellite dish. If it happens to be possible-”

“A satellite dish?” She laughed incredulously, “You can be serious.”

Charles nodded towards her, challenging her statements as he took a few steps forward. “And what is it that’s making you believe you’re incapable of doing anything similar?”

“Look.” She shook her head, looking directly at him when she said, “I can move the average household item, shut a door and maybe, just maybe, bust it down, but I couldn’t push your couch across the room, let alone move a fu- a satellite dish.”

Charles’ brows furrowed. “And that’s what you believe?”

She hummed. “That’s what I know.”

“Well,” he sighed, disappointment written across his face that sent her into a spiral, “There’s not much we can do if you don’t believe you can better yourself, is there?”

The second he walked past her was when it felt as though ice water had been spilt onto her. A mixture of confusion and gloom washed over her before she turned to see Charles’ back, still moving towards the door. “What?”

He stopped in his tracks at her exclamation, waiting several moments as if contemplating before he turned back to her. Carefully, he asked, “Why do you take them?”

She shook her head, looking almost offended. “How did you-”

“Your mind,” Charles confirmed, “It gets quieter.”

The offence on her face never ceased, but the uncomfortable mixture of feelings she was overwhelmed with had her shrug in response to his question. Charles only nodded and gave her a tight smile before turning back.

She closed her eyes, resigning herself with huff. She could go back to the life she had come to know and hate, or she could take the second chance he was giving her even if it did include the prospect of some suffering.

“I don’t take them for fun.” The sound of her voice made Charles stop again. This time, he waited. “When I touch a person I don’t just take every experience. I take every memory.”

He turned around to face her once more and gave her nod, signalling her to continue. She breathed in and out. “I see and I feel everything that’s happened to them. That’s a lot and it’s enough, but that’s not why I-”

She cut herself off, feeling herself choke on the words before shaking her head and persisting herself on despite Charles’ look of concern. “I take them because, when I take their memories, I take all of their thoughts too. Every one. So every thought of murder, or rape, or suicide, or any fucked up thing, keeps tearing me apart from the inside out.”

Charles nodded, walking closer to her, choosing his words carefully as he spoke, sympathy written deep in his soft voice, “And they scare you.”

She shook her head. Looking away from him for a moment, she willed away tears she felt gathering. She turned back to him. “The thought of acting on them scares me.”

Although slightly taken aback by the revelation, Charles holds his composure. He nodded before opening his mouth to respond, walking closer as he began.

The only reaction he got was her taking a step back, shaking her head. “I swear I’m not a bad person.” Charles assumed she didn’t want him touching her - considering she took away every thought. “I’m always all these people at once - I don’t even know who I am.”

“Then we will figure it out.” Charles tilted his head, making sure her eyes met his when she attempted to look away. His voice was soft and reassuring to her ears, even if she didn’t know whether to believe him or not. “You aren’t alone, Y/N.”

As it turns, the drugs were having a large effect on her ability to use her powers - the next few days told her as much. By no means was she capable of moving a satellite dish, but she had been able to take her powers to lengths she never thought she could have been able to.

Most of it was due to Charles - he’d spent most of the next few days with her, pushing her, sometimes to the point where she’d snap at him. She always calmed, though, and Charles always remained coolheaded.

Still, they grew closer. Or at least she grew closer to him. She couldn’t tell if the praise, the laughs, the banter, and the willingness to come back together after a fight only meant something to her. She hoped it did - because why else wouldn’t he just give up on her? All that time spent on advancing her powers to defeat Shaw, and he still talked about helping her as though their relationship would continue past this mission.

Part of her wanted to touch him so she could just know. Even if he hadn’t taken such a liking to her as she had him, at the very least try to understand him in his entirety and make a space for herself in his life. Then, another part of her was horrified at what she would find in there.

For the time being, there wasn’t much opportunity to dwell on it. The day they would head out was coming soon, and Erik suggested the group get a good night’s rest. They would all need it.

With her luck, she didn’t know why she thought that sleep would come easy that night. Whether it was due to adrenaline, anxiety, or anything else, didn’t matter. Because whatever was keeping her up had her pacing the hallways of Charles’ estate that night.

She wasn’t looking for it, but instead happened upon a conversation.

“… no difference. Shaw’s declared war on mankind. On all of us. He has to be stopped.” She heard Charles’ voice through a door as she passed by. Although knowing that he could probably make out the sound of her mind from a mile away, she still stopped by it. She grew even more curious when she heard Erik’s voice.

“I'm not gonna stop Shaw. I'm gonna kill him. Do you have it in you to allow that?” A moment of silence passed and she shifted on her feet. It made the floor creek. She shut her eyes and bit her lip, nervous, expecting to hear the sound of one of their footsteps coming to open the door and catch her eavesdropping. Whether they heard or not, she didn’t know as Erik continued on, “You've known all along why I was here, Charles. But things have changed. What started as a covert mission, tomorrow mankind will know that mutants exist. Shaw, us, they won't differentiate. They'll fear us. And that fear will turn to hatred.”

“Not if we stop a war,” Charles’ voice wavered on a line of urgency and assurance, “Not if we can prevent Shaw. Not if we risk our lives doing so.”

Charles very well could have been doing nothing but reassuring Erik with his words, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he was actually trying to reassure himself. As if the world wouldn’t either discard or abuse them once they’ve served their purpose of their betterment.

“Will they do the same for us?”

“We have it in us to be the better men.”

“We already are.” Erik’s voice quickly turned from calm to urgent when he next spoke. “We're the next stage of human evolution. You said it yourself!”

“No, no!” She heard Charles attempt to cut Erik off before he sighed. She could practically hear the disappointment in it, although she couldn’t say she felt the same. He only let Erik continue.

“Are you really so naive as to think that they won't battle their own extinction?” She heard him pause. “Or is it arrogance?”

“I’m sorry?” As if Charles had misheard him.

She shifted on her feet once more as their voices became more hushed, despite the feeling coming from the room becoming more hostile than calm. This time, she was more careful. Nothing made a sound below her feet when she moved closer to the door, pressing her ear against it, as well as her left palm for support.

“After tomorrow, they're gonna turn us. But you're blind to it, because you believe they're all like Moira.”

“And you believe they're all like Shaw.” Came Charles’ immediate response. Calmly, she heard him continue, “Listen to me very carefully my friend. Killing Shaw will not bring you peace.”

Erik’s voice never wavered when he told Charles, “Peace was never an option.”

Footsteps came far too fast for her to move away from the door. In a split second, she found herself leaning against the door to crashing into Erik’s chest when he pulled the door open. For a moment, Erik stood staring down at her, watching her attempt to recompose herself and attempt to apologize. She didn’t get a word out before he moved past her and walked away.

She watched his form retreat before she turned back to the room. Standing in the doorway, she saw Charles sitting in the chair facing away from her. With his eyes closed and fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed, “You realize I can hear your mind from across this house?”

She took a step in, almost reluctantly. She didn’t imagine Charles would be content with anything she had to say, but maybe she could make him understand. “Erik’s right, you know.”

Her words had Charles’ eyes snap open. He got out the chair, setting down the drink he was nursing on the table next to him, before he turned to face her. “Excuse me?”

“Peace isn’t an option ‘cause we’re never gonna get peace.” She shook her head, desperation in both her voice and eyes as she stared into his. “Erik thinks they’re gonna turn on us. They might not, but it doesn’t mean any of us will get any peace. They won’t all be like Shaw, they won’t all be like Moira, but most of them - most of them will just be human. They’ll fear us and they’ll judge us. It doesn’t matter how harmless we are or not.”

She watched as Charles took a step forward, his head tilting to the side, expression unreadable as his voice remained calm. “You can’t be serious.” It was a statement - a wrong one.

“Shaw needs to die,” She spoke with assurance. She felt her eyes fill with tears, Charles watching her suck in a breath and release as he began to walk closer to her, before she spoke in a whisper, no longer trusting her voice, “Shaw needs to die for what he did to us. We’re going to kill him, Charles.”

They’re faces we’re merely inches apart, chilling her to the bone as he looked at her. What she thought he would never do is what he tried the second he began to raise his hand, speaking quickly to her when he asked, “Us?”

His hand almost cupped her cheek when she turned her head away from it. Immediately, his hand froze. Charles watched her profile as more tears welled up in her eyes and her lips began to tremble. Voice weak and tearful, staring away from him, she pleaded, “Please don’t confuse me. I can’t-”

“I know you feel it,” Charles’ other hand came up to guide her face back to him despite her, whispering carefully, “But it is not your cross to bear.”

His hand was warm against her cheek. Comforting - enough to make her mind go blank. Wishful thinking, of course, because soon the clawing in her head would come back with a vengeance at having a man such as Charles touch her. For now, though, he felt safe. Stable. Enough so that she could close her eyes for a moment and let the tears fall as he leaned down to her and let his forehead press against hers.

“You can’t help but feel his pain,” She felt his breath against her lips as he spoke, his voice the same soft and soothing as she’s known it to be, “But you can decide what you do with it.”

She shook her head gently and pulled away, but still letting Charles’ hand rest against her cheek. “It’s not just-” she whispered to him, mouth feeling dry as her eyes avoided his, trying to piece her thoughts together. His hand slid down to the base of her neck, guiding her eyes to his. She licked her lips before she swallowed. “I barely knew Darwin, but he killed him right in front of us. And it was cruel and scary and I couldn’t even make myself look at it when it happened.”

“I know.” Charles brought his other hand up to brush away slow falling tears she hadn’t even known began to escape. He voiced nothing but concern, letting her continue as if he knew what she was going to say next.

Her hands reached up to wrap around his wrists, not to pull his hands away from her, but to simply hold onto them. Almost as if they were an anchor to make up for the tears she now felt were falling faster down her face as she realized. “For the first time, I think I want something, I feel this anger and fear, because of my head. I saw it first and I felt it first. It’s mine, and now I have a real responsibility to take care of it.”

“Not with murder.” Her hands tightened around his wrists as he brought her face closer to his own. A frown on his face as he desperately told her, “I meant it when I told you that we would figure this out together. You told me you were never your own person, that you don’t even know yourself. We were - we are - going to bring you into existence. I beg you, Y/N, don’t let yourself be brought into this world as a murderer.”

His words, as beautiful as they were, only half registered within her brain. All she found herself focusing on then was how close he was. She would think back later and come to realize that it was because the only thing making her tears stop and giving her the will not to commit a murder was the prospect of approval she would get from a man like him. From someone who could never understand her struggle, someone who never tried to or tried to make her feel as though there was some way out. From someone who wanted to build on it and show her the strength she could find within it.

Realistically, she knew he would have a few words for her if she ever outwardly admitted to him that she used approval as a means for bettering herself, but it was the best she could do at the time being.

Charles’ brows furrowed as he watched her face, spaced out and regarding him with an expression not even he could read. Somewhere deep down, though, he knew he had gotten through to her. His lips curled up slightly, speaking lowly with amusement evident in his voice, “Now where did you go?”

Her eyes shot from his lips to his eyes once more. As quick as they made eye contact, she leaned forward to press her lips against his. Lips soft, she kissed him carefully, one hand moving to cup his face. Only in the last few moments did he respond to it by kissing back.

She pulled away, looking at him nervously and letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding in. Her mouth was dry again. “I’m sorry-”

She was cut off by Charles’ lips on hers once more. She kissed back instantly, sighing into the kiss in content. Feeling Charles smirk against her lips and deepen the kiss, she put both hands behind his neck, pulling his body closer to hers. He took her lower lip between his teeth, pulling slightly as he let his hands trail down her body to her waist, pulling her to make sure there wasn’t the slightest gap between their bodies.

Their lips broke apart, but only long enough to allow for a quick breath. Charles pushed his lips back into hers as her hands snaked down to the collar of his dress shirt, playing carefully with the top button.

Eventually, their lips broke apart as they caught their breath. Bodies still pressed together, Charles leant forward to rest his forehead onto hers, her eyes still close, for a moment before pressing a kiss to it. He placed his chin on top of her head and rested there, her head resting against the crook of his neck as she felt him - anticipating what it would feel like to feel nothing but him.

#x-men #x-men first class #x-men days of future past #x-men apocalypse #x-men dark phoenix #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier imagine #charles xavier one-shot #x-men imagine #x-men one-shot #charles xavier #erik lensherr #raven #mystique #sean #angel #hank mccoy #james mcavoy #michael fassbender

272 notes · View notes

shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

shut in [12]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: anxiety, ptsd, abuse, death

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: two more chapters to go after this + an epilogue i haven’t written yet fdkjghdfkhg. things pick up next chapter don’t worry. i’d love to know your favourite parts so far if you have any!!

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

Your first home, from what you could remember, was the overcrowded hall you shared with kids in and around your age.

There was too much noise. Always too much noise.

Even when the children were in their classes, there was always someone whose cries you could hear in the distance when they realised they had nowhere else to go, peals of laughter during lunch breaks, excited whispers when someone came to visit, nervous excuses when belongings went missing.

The orphanage you were brought up in was no place for a child. It was underfunded and an utterly miserable sight. But you made your first friends there. A fiery redhead and a boy who resembled a puppy with his shiny blonde hair and blue eyes. Their names escaped you now.

Within structured schedules and learning to stow away candy left behind by volunteers so that they weren’t taken away by others, you found relief. You didn’t have a family. Caregivers came and went more than the seasons changed. But maybe what the girl and boy gave you came close. As close as six year olds could get, anyway.

They were picked before you. The red head left first, and a few months later was the last you saw of the boy. You often wondered where they were, how they were doing. You never truly got answers, but it wasn’t like you went searching.

You waited another year. They didn’t return. By then a man with a leather jacket who suspiciously wore sunglasses indoors had filled out the paperwork for you and two other kids. You had never interacted with them before until then. A few years down the line you were the only one of the three that remained anyway.

Your second house was in a dark hall. You weren’t allowed to roam around on your own; no one cared if you were 8 or 18. If you needed to be out of the way, you’d be out.

The man who pulled you out of the orphanage you never saw again. A secret adoption, you found out years later, so that no one would know of your existence. All the paperwork he filled out would have mysteriously been destroyed. To the world, you never existed and outside the organisation you were simply another kid who slipped through the cracks.

He disappeared after you were introduced to another who looked to be in his late twenties. He nicknamed you Buttercup, introducing you as the newest member of his cartel. He told you you were delicate, that he’d give you purpose you didn’t think you could have.

The room was inconceivably small. It barely squeezed in a bed and a small closet with a few changes of clothes. It was dark and congested but it enamoured you. Something to yourself. You didn’t have to fight over it with others who had just as little as you.

The man let you hang around with him. He’d show you the artillery, the large fighting rings with men in them beating each other half to death, the rooms he’d hold meetings with where the lighting was a little darker than the rest. He said it made him look menacing and they needed that where he was working. You giggled.

You found a home with the man who was razor sharp and acidic but insisted it was out of love. You wanted to impress him so badly; begged him to let you in the ring, to wield a gun. He’d only shake his head no, saying that he was waiting for the right time.

For two years you were invited to see what would happen if someone disappointed him. Your first encounter with death was a man who had dared to run away. A bullet in his head later you realised that was the best way to kill someone. His favourite way. And you just wanted to be his favourite.

He didn’t take it easier just because you were ten. He only stopped them from fully killing you.

“All these broken bones will heal,” he had said, “but you will always remember the pain. The minute you forget, it will happen again.”

So you didn’t forget. You observed and tried, and kicked yourself twice for every one mistake you made. Every time you’d look towards him for approval, he’d shake his head and point out everything wrong. You hated it. You hated it so fucking much.

The rage you kept building had only one outlet, the one he provided. So it became instinct. It was all you knew.

You found a home with a man you wanted to impress so bad, you never stopped to ask for what. To him, it was repayment for giving you purpose.

When you were fourteen you realised that no, the feeling in your stomach wasn’t from the previous week’s sparring session. It was butterflies. And for the grumpy new kid nonetheless.

He was your age, but missing an arm and couldn’t remember how or why. You didn’t ask him many questions. He was silent, and a little grouchy, which you didn’t like. But you did like when he offered his hand to you after a fight and you did like the nice smile he occasionally had.

You found a new home with his silent company and non-judgemental looks. He always seemed a little sad, like he was searching for something else. He was an excellent marksman and wasn't bad at hand to hand either.

He’d hang around your new room, one that was bigger than your initial place. You’d talk about new techniques you picked up. He talked about how he wished he remembered where he came from.

He was a friend. You needed one.

You remembered the night you were roughly shaken awake to the same boy saying he was going to be taken in the morning to the other centre. A permanent shift for reasons he didn’t know.

You didn’t get a chance to ask how or why, but in the flurry of him explaining that he had to go before someone noticed he left his room, he pressed a kiss to your lips in a rushed goodbye and ran back to the darkness. You were dazed for the rest of the night. You didn’t see him in the morning.

When you asked Ransone why he was gone, he mutely said that he was a distraction. You couldn’t afford one. He didn’t explain any further, no matter how much you begged.

Similar friends found themselves entering and exiting your life just as this boy did. You stopped keeping track. It hurt too much to wake up one morning to learn they weren’t there. You wondered why the influx of kids never stopped if you weren’t supposed to be friends with them.

You realised years later that they were sent there to be ripped away from you as soon as possible. To toughen you up.

He wouldn’t get rid of something immediately, not if it could be used to hurt you.

Your first mission was when you were fifteen. It was a small time thing; go threaten a man in his house so that he thought twice before crossing Ransone again. You did exactly as you were told, except while you were leaving you heard the cocking of a gun. You spun around and shot him in the shoulder, temporarily disabling him as you left. He cowered on the ground.

You couldn't find anyone as you stumbled back to the centre. There wasn’t a friend who you could vent to. All you had was Ransone. He congratulated you on your first shot, ignoring the trembling of your body and the redness that rimmed your eyes.

You realised that his approval didn’t mean so much to you anymore. If your only purpose was to harm, it wasn’t what you wanted. Not like you had a choice.

Then there was Scott, only brought in for minor things like breaking and entering. He was a funny one and you found yourself spending more and more time with him whenever he did show up. You pulled away when you realised that he was going to end up gone like the rest of the people when Ransone realised that you were paying more attention to him than you should.

He was a sneaky one though; climbed in during nights only to disappear by dawn before anyone saw. He was infectiously light, different from the darkness you were used to seeing. You sought out his brightness, his warmth and he happily gave it to you in unlit corridors and midnight trips that had your adrenaline spiking.

Scott lasted longer than anyone else. They didn’t consider him important enough to pay attention to and he never gave them any chance of doing it. He was, what you wanted to believe, your first love. Or what it felt like anyway, love was scarce and so you clung onto whatever he offered.

There was a home in Scott that you wanted to keep alive. You found solace in his flustered repetitions and occasional cheesy magic trick. He made you laugh, and it lit up his face when you leaned over and kissed him gently.

When you got the news that he was killed in a heist gone wrong, you didn’t feel anything for days. The man who broke the news to you looked at you with undertones of pity.

Everyone knew it wasn’t an accident.

You didn’t bring it up with Ransone and simply ignored it when he called it a good riddance even though he would be missed. If you listened to everything he said, you were afraid that you would just kill him.

It was excruciating. You didn’t have anyone to talk to. Only Ransone, as he kept reminding you.

“I’m the only one who cares about you, Buttercup,” he cooed and you clenched your eyes shut. “We’re family.”

No more relationships happened after that. Occasional coworkers-with-benefits but nothing that crossed that. You hadn’t had a friend in years, and Ransone was more than pleased to keep it that way. He was the only constant you’d had your entire life, willingly or not.

People were placed in your way to only inform Ransone of what new updates were in your life. Once they sent whatever information he needed his way, they’d automatically be removed. Everyone had a hidden agenda. Everyone had a specific reason to want to talk to you.

You just let them. What was the point of trying to hide it? You weren’t going to escape any time soon.

“Your only home,” Ransone reminded you, “is here with me.”

You rebelled, many times. Some looked like they would last. In the end you’d return to his dingy office for your next mission because as much as you despised him for the things he had done to you, the guilt over the things he had done for you overshone. Having him as your enemy would be worse than having his convoluted sense of love shoved down your throat until you were forced to accept him.

And that’s what it had been like until now.

You try and take in as much as you can of the house you’re standing in right now. What you used to find restrictive and a crude form of punishment, you found calming. The mundane nature of everyday life was charming.

It wasn’t a vacation, you reminded yourself. But the same feeling of emptiness returned every time you thought of your next move.

You didn’t want to leave. You didn’t want to go back to what you once thought was a home.

You’d eat a thousand dry peanut butter sandwiches over and over again for the rest of your life before even considering going back. You didn’t care for the lack of twenty-first century technology.

You were feeling things you had shoved away years ago because it wasn’t a life meant for you. Now that you were forced to live it and see what it could be like not living in a fight-or-flight mode every second, you can’t see how you ever survived this long.

But still, you had told Ransone that you were returning, and it was a promise he would expect you to uphold.

You tried to remember as much as you can of your time here. The way the sunlight feels against your skin in the morning, the sugariness of the jelly that was basically finished, the worn out tactical clothing from the wardrobe, the leather of the couch clinging to your skin as you rewatch the same three movies time and time again.

You tried to remember the first time you were introduced to the target board, and the range you and Sam had crafted together. The path to the specific tree and back on your runs and the grass that had wilted along it from contant treading.

You sat on the porch stairs for hours, leaning against the pillar for support. The first house you lived in was too loud, the second was too quiet. But this; this was just right.

Sam joined you eventually in the silence. You were grateful for the company.

“Have you decided on a day?”

You nod, looking straight ahead into the darkness. “Tomorrow.”

“You sure? Our timing has to be right.”

“Yeah.” Your voice is coarse. “I’ll have to tell him.”

He nodded, leaning his elbows on his knees. He was too tall for the stairs, looking like he was crouching instead of sitting.

His voice dropped to a whisper like it’s a secret only meant for you. “In case Ransone sees me and decides to…”

He gestured lewdly, sighing when you peer at him in confusion, “...kill me, you need to continue-”

“Stop talking,” you interrupted him quietly. You don’t even want to think about that possibility.

“It can happen. I hope it doesn’t, because it’s a waste of a perfectly good face,” he continues but you just shake your head, trying to drown him out. “Then promise me you’ll do your best to get out. This life isn’t for us, Y/N.”

“I’m not going to let you die,” you muttered. “Not this time.”

“I’m not saying I will, honey,” he continues in a hushed tone, not disturbing the silence built around you, “But it’d make me happy knowin’ that at least one of us gets a shot to live another life. And I know you make good on your promises.”

You were so tired. Of everything. Knowing that you’d be dragged back into it only made the pain sharpen.

“Scout’s honour,” you vowed. He let out a smile at the memory of the last time he used it, lifting his arm to put over your shoulder as you scoot in closer to him.

You sit like that for who knows how long. The night fell hours ago but you don’t want to let go.

“It’s gettin’ pretty late,” he commented.

“I don’t want to go.”

“You’re gonna need some energy for tomorrow.” He’s right, but you don’t want to admit it.

“It’s your turn at the bed tonight,” you evade it.

“You can have it,” he debated softly. If it was your last day there, then he’d do anything to make it the best one.

You’re stuck by an idea but you weren’t sure how he’d react. It wouldn’t be a big deal on the surface but you hadn’t ever done it before.

“Would you maybe-” you trail off.

“We can share,” he finished your thought, pulling you a little closer. You needed comfort. He knew that.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He only pressed a kiss to your temple, letting you sit out for as long as you needed.

Calm.

The woods provided excellent coverage while also giving him a clear sight of the house. The two of you sat on the porch together, speaking quietly to each other, out of earshot.

It didn’t matter what you were saying now. He had already heard what he needed to hear.

“Get ready,” the agent said hushedly into the intercom, “they’re leaving tomorrow.”

Next part

216 notes · View notes

helpimhyperfixating · 3 years

Note

What if all the stardust crusaders were also mermen?

This is my first time writing for the other Jojo’s, so I’m sorry if they’re ooc. I tried 🤷‍♀️

Didn’t know exactly what you wanted so I just did some random things XD (sorry for the weird formatting)

What if the Crusaders were also Mermen? Chaos, that’s what. Just imagine a journey across the seas just to beat up the sea snake that is Dio, but then think ten times harder. Going from the Pacific Ocean, to the Indian Ocean, into the Arabian Sea all just to get his ass.

Enemies are still sent by Dio, but now Dark Blue Moon is no longer special, kek. No but, while the enemies remain similar, Stands aren’t really a thing and therefore it becomes more a fight of physical strength. When Mer can come in all sorts of shapes, colours and sizes however, the battles always remain with an unsure outcome. Vanilla Ice the Giant Squid was a very close call.

The journey itself was tiresome, with them having to swim the entire way instead of being able to use transportation. Not to even mention other things. Every day is chaos - not even taking enemies into account - when travelling with the crusaders:

Polnareff won’t have to worry about clean toilets for once but still always seems to be complaining about something, Kakyoin and Jotaro are both still adolescents so they don’t quite have a grip on their instincts yet, more easily distracted by small things such as animals they don’t yet know or a shape quickly fluttering away in the current (must be chased and caught!!!), Joseph is basically an overgrown adolescent even if he is the patriarch of the pod so he usually shoots along with his grandson and friend. Iggy is there but then he isn’t??? And then he is again?? All in all, Avdol should get a medal, award, title, anything and everything really for his patience and ability to keep the others on track and keep them going.

Now, personality wise:

The Joestar pod is a big one. Family and friends coming together over time to form a larger and larger pod until it is eventually one of the largest out there. All kinds of Mer have come together to form this giant family unit and - apart from one defect (Dio) - it has stayed surprisingly tight knit.

Jonathan:

He is the pod patriarch, making the decisions together with Erina, who is the matriarch.

Super protective of the pod. Would shield the entire family with his body if he could. But since he can’t he’ll settle for just shielding all the pups, since the others can protect themselves. He is large enough to do so anyways.

Best play mate possible. All the pups love him.

I imagine he either has the body of a seal, or a blue whale. Very different yes, but he is just an excited ginormous puppy, hence the seal. But he is also a gentle giant, hence the blue whale. And also... other, more obvious reasons (*cough* he buff and giant *cough*).

Joseph:

In his younger years, he is the bane of existence of all the adults in the pod. In both his adolescent as well as young adult/adult stage, Joseph is a hyperactive troublemaker. More than once he has snuck out of pod territory, only to come fleeing back with an angry sea creature on his tail, needing resident buff protector Jonathan to step up and chase his attacker off.

In his older years, he has mellowed out a bit, needing to be since he inherited the position of pod patriarch from Jonathan. He is however, still a prankster and always will be. He will play a prank on the pups every so often where he pretends to have died in the night when they come get him for meal- or play time (He’s been scolded by Suzie Q for that after one of the pups burst out crying. He promised to never do it again, but he definitely will).

I imagine he has the lower body of a dolphin. Dolphins can be real assholes. But also very playful and agile, which Joseph stays, no matter his age. Either that, or a sawfish. Their faces look a little silly, but don’t bloody mess with them. They are fast as all hell and they can also get to be fujking big. About 7 meters (23 feet) on average to be exact. But then again, Joseph wouldn’t get the face so he has nothing to worry about.

Jotaro:

Oh, Jotaro. Our resident grumpy Mer. In a pod dynamic he usually has one of two moods. Tolerant, or, leave me the fuck alone. Usually it is the latter.

Surprisingly enough however, his personality seems to appeal to several of the pups. It’s about a 50/50 chance whether they’ll be scared of him, or think he is the coolest. Oftentimes a disgruntled Jotaro can be seen, followed by about two or three small Mer who are chatting his ears off or chewing on his side fins as they teeth.

Thanks to this, Jotaro is often the one who goes hunting. It finally gives him a bit of that peace and quiet he needs. Yare yare indeed.

I imagine Jotaro to have the body of a bull shark. Not the biggest or most aggressive shark out there, but part of the top 3 for sure. Also, Mer have the tendency to have their tails be bigger than their animal counterpart, such is definitely the case with Jotaro. Male bull sharks averaging in about 2 meters in length while just Jotaro’s tail is already almost double that.

Josuke:

Josuke has inherited some of his father’s hyperactivity unfortunately. The young Mer can often be heard from a mile away whenever he is hanging out with his friends.

Speaking of which, one day Josuke just turned up with several Mer in need of a home. Guess they’re part of the pod now!

Josuke is always quick to help anyone who needs it though. Need a hand? Josuke is there. Want someone to watch the pups? Might be a bit of a hazard, but Josuke will gladly do so. Need something that is very specific and probably quite a swim-distance away? Josuke is already on his way there.

He just wants to help and be useful, let him do stuff please 🥺

Still somehow has his hairdo, even underwater.

I drew Josuke as a Nurse shark a little while back, but for some reason I can also really see him being a sting ray?? I don’t know why, I think a sting ray fits him but that may be my bias towards stingrays.

But the lower half I can really see him having is that of a sailfish. (Have you seen the sails on those fish? They are just as impressive as Josuke’s hair. It’s a perfect match) they are fast as fuck boiiiiii, perfect for our lovable goof.

Either that or he is an otter cause they are bloody adorablez

Giorno:

Giorno wasn’t born as part of the Joestar pod unfortunately. Growing up, his father, Dio, had different goals and morals and broke away from the Joestar pod. Oftentimes Giorno heard him talk about the old pod he was once a part of, and how he vowed to wipe it from the sea.

This sparked a curiosity in the young Mer and when he was old enough, he decided to just up and leave the Brando pod. His initial goal was to find the Joestar pod he had heard so much about, but on his travels, he came across a different one. After spending some time with them, he decided to remain with Bucciarati and his pod of misfits.

All kinds of sea creatures flock to Giorno. For some reason, the calm and confident aura he gives off makes many animals feel safe and protected, hiding under or against his body if he is resting or sitting down on the ocean floor, or - if Giorno allows it - following him as he swims.

Giorno. Hmm, Giorno. I think he might have the lower body of a barracuda or a lion fish. Sleek, streamlined, dangerous. Or, pretty, yet hard to approach with his poisonous spikes poised unless he trusts you and allows you near. His spikes will lie as flat down his body as he can get them to show this. Not many Mer have this honour.

(Or he is part of the requiem shark family, lols, sorry I had to)

Jolyne:

Jolyne can be energetic or standoffish, you can never really tell which of the two it will be. Her dynamic in the pod differs from day to day depending on her mood, but when it comes to it, there is nothing she won’t do for it.

Very playful and giddy. Loves to hang out with her best friends and is the unofficial appointed forager with how much stuff she brings back whenever she goes for a swim.

Jolyne’s lower half. Hum hmm. Her body either somewhat resembles a butterfly fish, only- updated to be more mermaid like by being more stretched out, her tail fin mainly resembling the fish while her tail is more classic. It’s very pretty though and she somehow has some octopus genes in her, making her able to change colours, which she absolutely loves to do, nearly coming in with a new colour every day (though she has a few favourites) Either that, or she resembles her dad a little more with the lower half of a spinner shark. She’s sleek and agile. A swift and dangerous predator you should not mess with. She might look harmless when she’s chatting with her friends, but when she is spinning at you with claws poised and no way to escape, you’d click a different tune.

Haven’t read part 7 or 8 yet, sorry :(

#jojos bizarre adventure #jjba #mermaid au #jonathan joestar #joseph joestar #jotaro kujo #josuke higashitaka #giorno giovanna #jolyne cujoh #mermen #mermaid #jjba sdc #blub

95 notes · View notes

natromanxoff · 3 years

Text

Queen live at Forest National in Brussels, Belgium - August 24, 1984

Some parts of the Hammer To Fall promo video were filmed during this show - the camera was filming the audience reactions during TYMD, Radio Ga Ga and Hammer To Fall. On the next day 20 fans from the Dutch fan club were invited to come again to the filming of the promo video.

At the gig, the band asked the audience to return the following day for the shoot. However, most likely assuming it was all a joke, the vast majority stayed away; in fact only a dozen fans turned up. Undeterred, the shoot went ahead anyway, with the band's performance that day interspersed with footage shot the previous night.

(x)

This is the first show of The Works tour.

According to the July '89 issue of Record Collector, Queen ran through about 40 songs during rehearsals. This list of songs rehearsed that didn't end up in the setlist comes from someone who worked on the tour:

Great King Rat (longer version), Brighton Rock (full song), I'm In Love With My Car, Sweet Lady, White Man, We Will Rock You (fast), Play The Game, Need Your Loving Tonight, Put Out The Fire, Las Palabras de Amor, Life Is Real (both Freddie solo piano and Freddie/Brian acoustic duet versions)

The keyboardist for this tour (and also the '86 Magic tour) is session musician Spike Edney. He would also lend some vocals to many songs and play rhythm guitar in Hammer To Fall. He and Roger Taylor would form a band called "The Cross" in 1987 which spawned three albums, and he would return to Queen in the 21st century to play on the tours with Paul Rodgers and Adam Lambert.

Spike was recruited in a very informal way by a Queen associate. He went to Munich for their first rehearsal in early August, wound up partying for most of the first night, and missed the first day's rehearsal. It later transpired that everyone else had. He recalls, "The next day, we all managed to get to it eventually, to the first rehearsal, and all the gear was set up. The stage was huge, and I thought "Oh well, here we go then" and we got to the first song , and what I'd forgotten was that they hadn't actually played together for two years. So they said, OK, let's try one of the new songs, I think it was Radio Ga Ga, and we started playing it, and course, I knew it, I'd been studying it for weeks. You know, 1,2,3,4 and we start and we get about a minute into the song and the whole thing collapses. And they all look at each other, you know, very sheepishly, and they say, "Anyone know how it goes?" and I say "well, actually, I know. I know how it goes" and they said "Ah". And so I started showing them the chords and everything and Fred looked at me and said "You don't know the words, do you?" and "Well, yeah I do actually" so then they all came round the piano and we spent the whole day just going through songs, and I thought, "I'm gonna be all right here, this'll be OK"!"

The show started very late, as the band were still doing soundcheck when they were supposed to go on. Apparently over the previous week there were few occasions when all four band members actually showed up for rehearsal. Many songs (likely those listed above) never made the setlist, and soundcheck was an extensive cramming session, particularly for the older material that they hadn't played in years.

Roger Taylor later reflected that this European tour was one of his favourites, and many fans cite the early Works setlist as their favourite ever played by the band. Three medleys are now played, two of which have revived many old songs: Killer Queen, Seven Seas Of Rhye, Keep Yourself Alive, Liar, Stone Cold Crazy and Great King Rat. Staying Power from Hot Space returns to the set, as does Sheer Heart Attack from News Of The World. Only half of Staying Power is played, and it runs into Dragon Attack, followed by an improvisation running into a more compact version of Now I'm Here compared to previous tours.

Many people who attended shows on this tour recall Queen having a very heavy sound, especially on songs like Liar and Stone Cold Crazy. By 1984 they had gained a reputation as being one of the best live rock acts in the business.

Six songs from The Works are performed each night, and the introduction tape is from the album track "Machines". After the heavy G chords are heard on the tape twice, the band walk on stage in the darkness to play the chords the third time, which leads into the brand new "Tear It Up". This is yet another effective opening to a Queen show, something they would perfect time and time again.

I Want To Break Free is performed each night in 1984-85 as the first encore, with Freddie coming on stage sporting a pair of huge plastic breasts under a pink shirt. Part way through the song, he would remove the breasts and twirl them around for a while before finally throwing them into the audience. Some souvenir! As a result of this gag, Another One Bites The Dust has been moved from the encore to be earlier in the set.

This tour showcases an incredible lighting rig and an overall setup mimics the movie Metropolis, from which scenes were used for the promo video of Radio Ga Ga last year. The huge wheels behind the stage (modelled after the ones on The Works album cover) rotate at mostly random times - usually because they are turned manually by various crew members such as Roger's tech Chris "Crystal" Taylor whenever they have a free moment (Freddie Mercury's assistant Peter Freestone told the tale in 2021):

“Yeah, I mean Rio was… amazing. The feeling from that crowd… you know, something like 350,000 people. Oh, you can’t beat that. And when you’re flying in a helicopter over that crowd, it was stunning. But the thing is, I know this sounds really, really stupid but [laughs]… one thing I will always, always remember from that tour was, remember, in the back of the stage you had these wheels that turned every now and then, not constantly but just every now and then. That was because there was… the guy looking after Roger’s drums and me who actually turned those wheels. And there was no set cue or anything that, “Oh, it has to start on this bar, on this song.” No, it was when he wasn’t doing anything and I wasn’t doing anything, we’d say “Ok, let’s go and do it.” And we turned the wheels for a couple of minutes and then left them alone. He had then to do something for Roger and I would just sit there like I always did. And then you’d go back and you’d turn the wheels, like a hamster. We were like hamsters…”

However, a crew member who worked on the tour recalls otherwise: "I do know local crew members were used on the UK shows and certainly (a number of) European gigs. The other thing is that Radio Ga Ga had a set piece with the cogs and lighting, using low ambient lighting and strobes to emphasise mechanical motion of the cogs during the instrumental break. Would Roger Taylor be happy with no one covering him/his kit during a show? Possibly Peter Freestone is remembering production rehearsals when any spare bodies might have been asked to operate the cogs?"

During vocal improvisations on this tour, Freddie would often include bits of "Foolin' Around" and "Living On My Own" from his pending first solo album, which he had been working on during this period.

Freddie now plays a Telecaster for Crazy Little Thing Called Love. It would remain like this through the Magic tour.

The band no longer bring a gong with them on the road. Roger now does a cymbal roll at the end of Bohemian Rhapsody.

A fan recalls hearing the band running through Tear It Up whilst queuing up to enter the venue.

Freddie's voice is in superb shape for this show, but it will quickly weaken as the tour progresses. As incredible as Freddie Mercury was, he certainly did not take care of his voice at times, especially in the mid-80s. After a couple years of heavy smoking, Freddie's voice now sounds a lot deeper and raspier overall.

Before It's A Hard Life, Freddie says, "I think tonight we're gonna do songs from just about every album that we've ever made. You heard some very early stuff from the first album. Right now I think we're gonna do something very new, and we'll see what you think of it."

Freddie does a vocal exchange with the audience before Staying Power, singing "Get Down Make Love" and "Gimme Some Lovin" a few times. The band would improvise bits of the latter a couple times in 1986.

This is the only show on the entire Works tour where Roger plays regular acoustic drums on Another One Bites The Dust (before which Freddie teases the audience with a bit of Mustapha). For the rest of the tour, he'd play electronic drums. He'd also integrate the electronic drum kit into a few other songs, like at the beginning of Hammer To Fall, where one might argue that his sounds don't appropriately complement the guitar to create the intense, heavy sound.

The band sound very tight on this opening night of the tour, with the only exception being the rough transition from Stone Cold Crazy to Great King Rat. The keyboard and guitar solos are integrated together for the first few shows of the tour, during which Brian plays a few bits from Machines. Spike Edney uses his vocoder (a Roland VP-330) for the "machines" and "back to humans" lines heard throughout the tour during this spot (he would use his vocoder for the "radio" lines in Radio Ga Ga as well). After this segment, Brian then gets a few minutes to play on his own as usual.

Parts of the promo video for Hammer To Fall were filmed during this show. Claims from some (even official) sources state that Freddie invited the audience back for (what would actually be "additional") filming the following day aren't true. Here is all that Freddie had to say before the song: "This next song we're gonna use in our next video. So everybody just go mad and maybe later you'll see one of you guys inside the video one day. Oh, just go crazy, take your clothes off. It's called Hammer To Fall." After the song, he simply says, "Good night, you guys!" as that was the last song of the set.

Here is a fan's recollection: "On the night of the gig, there was a camera mounted on an arm that would swing over the front rows of the audience during a few songs. These audience shots were taken during Tie Your Mother Down, Radio Ga Ga, and Hammer To Fall itself. I guess they also had a camera up in the box at the back of the hall [as there are a few shots of both the audience and the band]. I don't remember any cameras onstage during the gig - just the one mounted on the arm."

The Dutch fan club invited only about twenty of its members to attend the video shoot the next day. They were instructed by a roadie to sit quietly on a chair and not to move or approach the band members. After a few hours, Brian came over and had a chat with them, checking to see if they were enjoying themselves and if they were hungry. He then promptly ordered them some take-out!

A minute of Tie Your Mother Down from this show was later broadcast on the Belgian TV station "RTBF" (x) (x). An audience-shot video allegedly exists as well, containing five songs.

After years of speculation, the existence of more footage from this show was proven when bits of it were included in the promo video for Let Me In Your Heart Again in 2014. About 30 seconds of Somebody To Love (largely crowd shots) were seen. There is, however, no accompanying audio. (x)

The first photo is from the autumn 1984 Queen fan club magazine. Brian is seen with a watchful eye over the proceedings. Tour manager Gerry Stickells and his wife are also in the shot.

Pics 2 through 6 were submitted by Alessio Rizzitelli, and the seventh pic was taken by Dave Matkin.

(x)

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #queen concerts

36 notes · View notes

soniaxdixon · 3 years

Text

Scars

Summary: Daryl shows his scars to you for the first time in the shower and you make him feel safe. Set Alexandria season 5/6

Warnings: Daryl’s scars and mentions of Daryl’s abuse

Okay this is probably one of my all time favourite fics that I have written. There is something about showing love to Daryl that makes me feel so warm because he deserves so much love. Anyway, enjoy! Also I finally learnt how to use the keep reading button so I’m proud.

Word Count: 1076

You and Daryl had been together since the prison but you were inseparable from when you first met at the quarry. He followed you around from the first moment like a lost puppy. You knew how to keep him calm, even in his most riled up moments, there was something about you. Something about your presence that could calm him in an instant.

After spending so long on the road you were all ready to give up. Losing the prison broke you all, that was your safety, your home. After the prison, there seemed to be nothing, until Aaron found you all, and now here you all were, at Alexandria, building your lives again. You shared a house with half of your group and that was what made this place feel like home.

You stepped out onto the front porch, wrapped in a robe. Socks warmed your feet and a cup of tea warmed your hands. Daryl was sitting on one of the front chairs, a cigarette hung loosely from his lips as he fiddled with his crossbow. You stood and admired him, not daring to speak in case you ruined the moment, he was so beautiful when he concentrated on little things. You were lost in your thought when he finally broke the silence.

“What?”

“Hm?” You muttered, not realising how long you had been staring.

“What are ya lookin’ at?”

“You.”

His head lowered slightly to hide the tinge of red that stained his cheeks, a light shade of pink covering yours too. You had been together for a while but these moments always made your heart flutter like the first time you spoke. His heart rhythm matched yours.

“I’m gonna take a shower, you wanna join me?” Now his heart was beating faster, he could hear it in like a drum in his head, could you hear it too? He bit his lip and swallowed hard.

“Uh, we uh- I-” He stuttered.

“Daryl, you don’t have to, I just thought I’d ask. I don’t think you’ve showered since we got here.” You chuckled and you saw his mouth twitch up at your remark.

“M’kay, let’s go.”

You smiled as he put his crossbow down on the table next to him and followed you back into the house, looking like the same lost puppy of a man that you had fallen in love with so long ago. You led him upstairs and into the bathroom, turning to face him and placing your hands cautiously on his chest. He stiffened slightly at your touch, relaxing soon after. Even after all this time, he wasn’t used to gentle contact. He wasn’t used to being loved no matter how much you loved him, but he tried, and if it was even possible, he loved you more.

You ran your hands up his chest and began unbuttoning his shirt until it slowly slid off his frame. You placed a tender kiss above his collarbone and felt him shiver under your touch. You stepped back and he found himself start to move with you, unintentionally, like a magnet. You slipped your robe off, then pulled your shirt over your head. You both undressed entirely, standing in front of each other like this for the first time. You moved towards him slowly, placing your hands on his cheeks and pulling his lips down to meet yours, carefully. You broke away to turn the water on, both of you stepping in when the water was warm enough. You let the water run over you, your eyes finding the floor that was slowly discolouring with the dirt that ran off his body. Your eyes looked up to meet his but his eyes were closed as he enjoyed the feeling of the water on him. You grabbed a cloth with some soap and began washing his chest. His eyes opened and watched your every move carefully. You moved to his arms, making sure to run the cloth over every bit of dirt.

“Turn so I can clean your back.”

He froze, stiffened. You tried to read the look on his face but you had never seen it. He looked sad, worried, like his mind was racing. “Daryl, are you okay?”

His eyes softened as they met yours. “I never told ya, I should have, its just-it’s just hard.”

“You know you can tell me anything but you also know I would never do anything to make you uncomfortable so you don’t have to.”

“Nah, it’s okay.” He slowly began to turn around. “My dad, he used to, uh-” He turned completely, revealing his back and the scars that covered it. Your eyes wandered from his shoulders down to his lower back, focussing on each individual scar for a few seconds before you walked forwards and wrapped your arms around him. You felt his breath hitch and then release slowly, like he was letting go of something. “He used to get drunk and he would get angry. Sometimes he couldn’t get drunk and that would make him angrier. He would just let it out on Merle and me.” You felt him begin to shake slightly, you couldn’t see the tears rolling down his cheeks. “I’ve never shown ya cause I didn’t know how ya’d react.”

You pulled your head away from his back slightly to talk. “Daryl, these are part of your past, these are part of you. Part of what make you who you are, but they don’t define you so never let them consume you and don’t be ashamed of them.” You reluctantly pulled your arms away from him and he turned to face you, his hair covered his eyes. You reached up and pushed the hair away from his face and he leaned into your touch. “You are you because of your past but that is what it is. The past. You are here now, with me and I will never let anything happen to you. I love you Daryl Dixon and I will protect you the same way that you protect me.”

Now you saw the tears, he didn’t hide them.

“I love ya so much.”

You wiped the tears away and kissed his lips. He didn’t hide anything from you anymore.

You lost your safety when the Prison fell, at least you thought you did but you didn’t, your safety was standing in front of you and his safety was in front of him, his home, his love.

A/N I just loved this fic so much. P.S requests are officially open! feel free to message me and request a Daryl x Reader fic and I will do my best to fulfil it!

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x you #you x daryl dixon #you x daryl #daryl x you #daryl x reader #reader x daryl #twd #twd fic #twd fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fic #the walking dead imagine #daryl fluff

228 notes · View notes

dirtyhelen · 3 years

Text

i’ve got the girl on my mind (all the time)

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Featuring: Smut; Humour; Light D/S; Vaginal Fingering; Oral Sex

Words: 4299

Summary: Carol’s wearing a suit. Black, tailored to perfection, but not feminine. The top two buttons of her stark white shirt are undone and her tie is loose around her neck. Her eyes scan the room absently until her gaze lands on you and she’s smiling even wider, lifting her glass and giving you a wink.

“Oh my God, Bucky, she’s coming over here. Go away.”

“What—why?”

“Because I’m either about to embarrass myself or get seduced and I don’t want you here for either.”

(Spoiler alert: it’s the second one.)

A/N: Woman Cozily Cupping Mug Secretly Thinking About Getting Absolutely Railed by Carol Danvers. This is just a silly little smutfic that I had way too much fun writing. Hope you enjoy! Title from Girls by Beatrice Eli.

“Hey.”

You look up from your computer screen to find Carol Danvers standing in your office doorway, still in her suit from the mission you’re currently writing your report on. She’s looking at you with the confident little half-smile you’ve become very familiar with over the past few weeks. It’s a look that never fails to bring a heat to your cheeks. And other places.

“Uh, hi,” you manage. You can see Bucky smirking at you from his spot lounging on your office sofa, his broken arm resting in a sling against his chest.

“Thanks for your help back there,” Carol says. “You too, Barnes,” she adds, with a nod in his direction. Bucky’s “help” in this case was mostly leaning over your shoulder offering unsolicited opinions on your work and avoiding the many elbow jabs you attempted to land to his ribcage.

It’s not easy being the Avengers’ favourite analyst.

“No problem. Anytime,” you reply.

Carol nods, says a quick, “See ya,” and then she’s gone, striding off down the corridor.

“Bye,” you sigh wistfully.

Bucky chuckles and your eyes snap to him. “You alright there, doll?” he asks, amusement clear in his voice. You glare at him and he only grins wider. “You just seem a little flustered is all. Heart’s beating a little fast.”

“Oh, fuck off, Bucky—you blush like a schoolgirl every time Thor looks at you.”

He squawks but can’t deny it. “Whatever,” he mutters, standing up and heading for the door. “Enjoy filling out your mission report and pining. I’ve got my own cocky blond captain to welcome home.” He winks, graciously letting the pen you throw hit him in the chest before he leaves.

You turn back to your computer and try to focus on your work, but your thoughts keep straying to Carol.

Bucky’s wrong; you do not pine. You only think about her when she’s around. And even then, only once or twice a day. Just casually wondering what she’s doing and if she might stop by your office.

Four or five times, max. Thinking about what she’s wearing, or if she’s done something different with her hair.

Okay, ten times total, on a bad day. Imagining how that easy confidence might translate to the bedroom. If her powers mean her fingers never cramp up, or if her jaw never gets sore.

Bucky’s right; you do pine.

You can’t help it! There’s just something about Carol that has you reverting to the heady infatuations of your teen years every time she’s around. She’s just so fucking cool. To the nerdy teenager you once were, she’s the coolest girl in school whose attention and approval you’re desperate for. To the nerdy adult you currently are, she’s the coolest girl in the universe whose attention and approval you’re desperate for and whose pussy you’d absolutely kill to eat like a five-course meal.

Luckily for your sanity (and your dominant hand), Carol’s not actually around that often. You only met her after the Snap was reversed, having been one of the Capital-D-Dusted, but she seems to spend most of her time checking in on the gazillion other planets in the universe.

At least, she used to. Apparently in the last few months she’s decided to reconnect with her birthplace, because suddenly she’s spending more time on-planet than off. This means the chances of her stopping by your office or running into you on the new-new compound have gone way up. Once every few months has become once a week or more.

Today’s little exchange is the second time she’s found you this week. She stops by, stands in your doorway in ripped jeans or a leather jacket, smirking like a fucking female James Dean, while she casually compliments your outfit or your work or the music playing from your computer. Which would be great—if you had any idea what it means.

You know what you want it to mean, but you and Carol have been doing this little dance for weeks now and she hasn’t so much as asked you if you like coffee, let alone invited you to drink some with her sometime.

Sure, you could ask her out, but you’re not about to risk getting rejected by Captain fucking Marvel and then having to guide her through some villain’s lair over comms the next day.

Shaking your head to try and physically dislodge all thoughts of Carol from your brain, you settle back into your mission report, determined to prove Bucky wrong for at least another hour or two so you can finish up and get home to your empty, lonely apartment.

+++

A couple of weeks and a handful of run-ins with Carol later, you’re standing in a ballroom on the compound in your nicest dress, taking a night off from thinking about Carol. Or trying to, anyway.

The Stark Foundation is hosting a charity gala, raising money for relief efforts for those impacted by the reversal of the Snap. It’s not really your thing, but the Avengers are required to attend and you never pass up an opportunity to watch Steve try to withhold his deep annoyance at having to interact with the richest members of American society.

“Look at his hand, Buck,” you point out. “We’ve reached the clenched fists portion of the evening.”

Bucky nods, taking a sip of his champagne. “Next up—the jaw muscle.”

“Poor guy,” you sigh. “He looks great, though.”

“That he does,” Bucky agrees, eyes scanning the room. “Speaking of looking great—” He lets out a low whistle, nodding his head toward the bar. You follow his gaze and your jaw drops.

“Oh my God.”

“Yep.”

“Look at her.”

It’s Carol, because of course it’s Carol. You weren’t expecting her to be here tonight—she’s not an Avenger in any official capacity and she doesn’t seem the type to enjoy a fancy party—but there she is, standing at the bar talking to Nat and surrounded by a handful of the One Percent.

And she’s wearing a suit. Black, tailored to perfection, but not feminine. The top two buttons of her stark white shirt are undone and her tie hangs loose around her neck.

You watch her laugh at something Natasha says, as she surveys the room absently, completely ignoring all the people clamouring for her attention. Then her gaze lands on you and she’s smiling even wider, lifting her glass and winking at you from the bar.

You manage a little wave back to her as your heart races and Bucky starts to laugh next to you. Carol leans down to say something in Nat’s ear that has her smirking and then she’s walking toward you and your heart stops entirely.

“Oh my God, Bucky, she’s coming over here. Go away,” you hiss.

“What—why?”

“Because I’m either about to embarrass myself or get seduced and I don’t want you to here for either. Go rescue your boyfriend.”

Bucky scoffs but does as you ask, snatching another glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and heading toward Steve.

You have just enough time to swig back the last of your own glass and set it on a table before Carol’s standing in front of you, looking even better up close.

“Hey.” She greets you with a smile.

“Hi.”

“Love the dress,” she says, eyes sweeping down your body. She pinches a fold of your skirt between her finger and thumb, tugs at it lightly. “This colour looks great on you.”

“Oh, um, thank you. You look great too. Very James Bond,” you note and Carol grins. “How are you enjoying your first Avengers party?”

She rolls her eyes. “If one more man tries to tell me about his very cool job managing hedge funds I’m gonna blow a hole in the ceiling and fly out of here.”

“That is, unfortunately, one of the hallmarks of these things. The finance guys, not the ceiling holes,” you clarify. “Though actually, that’s not unheard of either.”

She laughs, about to say something else when her eyes drift over your shoulder. “The vultures are circling again,” she whispers. You turn your head to see a handful of men in expensive suits lingering a few feet away, obviously waiting for an opportunity to introduce themselves to Carol. “You wanna get out of here?” she asks. “Maybe go somewhere a little quieter?”

For a second your brain is frozen solid. You’ve never actually heard that phrase outside of movies and TV, and in movies and TV it usually only means one thing. But this is Carol Danvers and real life and you have no idea if she wants to fuck you or if she really does want to continue your conversation somewhere she’s not at risk of being interrupted by Elon Musk or a random politician.

“My office is just upstairs?” you offer once your brain thaws. There’s a part of you that wants to say, “Or how about we go to your room?” But that’s about ten times more suggestive than you’re comfortable being. Plus, the residences are on the other side of the compound so it’s also not that practical.

“Sounds great,” Carol says with a grin, and then she’s leading you out of the ballroom, a strong hand pressed to the small of your back.

+++

Carol leans against the wall while you fumble with your key card, hands in her pockets and looking so fucking good you want to fall to your knees and beg her to fuck your face right there in the hallway.

Neither of you said much during the short walk to your office but there was an almost palpable tension that has you keyed up and leaking into your panties even though Carol hasn’t so much as touched you beyond a guiding hand on your back.

In the next sixty seconds, as your pass your key card over the pad on the wall and reach down to open the door, it becomes very clear Carol meant “somewhere quieter” exactly the way they do in the movies.

As soon as the door is open she’s pushing you through, kicking it shut with her heel as she pushes you against the wall, hands pressing firm on your shoulders. You gasp when your back hits the wall.

She leans in and your eyes slip shut, waiting for her lips on yours, desperate to finally know how she tastes. But the kiss doesn’t come. She stops with her lips just inches from yours—you can feel the warmth of her breath against your face—and waits. You open your eyes and find her smirking, watching you burn for her and you nearly whimper, another rush of wetness flooding your underwear.

“Please,” you breathe, unable to stop yourself. You’ve wanted this for so long you think you might cry if she doesn’t at least kiss you.

“Please what?” she asks, voice calm and low like she isn’t standing between your spread legs. Like she isn’t affected at all.

“Kiss me. Please.” You can’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed by how easy you are for her.

“Good girl,” she says softly and finally closes the distance between you. Her first kiss is sweet—a gentle press of lips, a soft hello—but it quickly turns deep and devouring. She licks along the seam of your mouth then sweeps her tongue inside until you’re gasping for air.

Jesus, it’s even better than you could have ever imagined. You don’t think you’ve ever been kissed like this, so thorough and greedy. Carol tastes like chapstick and rum and you’re drunk on her in moments.

One of her hands rests on your waist, while the other grips the back of your neck, holding you in place for her. She sets the pace, giving you time to breathe with teasing kisses along your jaw and neck before pressing her lips to yours, again and again.

She nudges her thigh between yours, pushing up against your cunt through layers of fabric and you grind down against her, moaning into her mouth at the pressure on your throbbing clit. Carol’s hands start to work at the hem of your dress, rucking it up your legs in fistfuls until she’s stopped by the barrier of her own body. She shifts her leg back, chuckling as you whine at the loss, and tugs your dress up so you’re exposed from the waist down.

She takes a moment to look at you, trailing her eyes from ankle to bellybutton and back, stopping at the space between your legs.

“Hold this,” she says, passing you a handful of your dress, and freeing up her own hand. She taps two fingers on your panties, just over your clit, and even that is enough to have you gasping. “Cute,” she comments, and then she’s sliding under the waistband and her fingers are on your bare skin.

She wastes no time, pressing her fingers between your folds. She quirks an eyebrow at the sopping mess of you, almost shamefully wet for so little contact. “I told you,” you stutter through shallow breaths, “you look good in a suit.”

Carol grins, dipping two fingers into your pussy. You roll your hips to try and coax them inside you. “I must look really good if you’re this easy already,” she teases.

She drags slick up to your clit, circling it as she kisses your neck, sucking occasionally then dragging her teeth over the tender flesh. It doesn’t take long before you’re coming, cunt pulsing as you moan her name. Before you can catch your breath she’s pulling you away from the wall, gripping you by the shoulders and turning you around. She marches you the handful of steps to your desk, leaning in until her lips are next to your ear. “Hands on the desk,” she orders.

You eagerly comply, resting the heels of your palms on the sharp edge of your desk. Carol unzips your dress, then pushes the straps off your shoulders and down your arms, pulling them over your hands one at time. The dress falls to your feet, followed by your panties, and suddenly you’re completely naked even as Carol stands fully clothed behind you.

She takes your hands in hers, gripping your wrists, and moves them to the other side of the desk, before pressing a palm to the small of your back with just the slightest hint of her power. She bends you over until your breasts press against the cool surface and your back is forced to arch, ass tilted on display for her.

Her hands stroke down the skin of your back and you shiver.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll warm you up,” she says, even though your trembling has nothing to do with the temperature of the room and you think she knows that.

She nudges her foot against one of yours and you widen your stance, spreading your legs wide. Her hand follows the curve of your ass to where you’re still wet and dripping for her, fingertips teasing at your opening.

It hits you suddenly that anyone could walk by and catch you in here. They’d take one look through the glass walls of your office and know. You didn’t even think to flip the switch to opaque the walls and now it’s too late; the panel is next to the door and you wouldn’t move now if flames were licking at your heels. Anyone passing by would see your dress on the floor, see your legs stretched wide around Carol’s figure and they’d know.

To your surprise, the idea of getting caught only adds to your excitement. You don’t have time to ponder your newly discovered kink because two of Carol’s fingers press into your pussy and immediately start thrusting fast and hard, working you back up so quickly your head spins.

The room is soon filled with the sound of her fingers moving inside you and the wet slap of her palm hitting your ass as she fucks you. Your whimpers and moans rise to join the chorus.

Carol presses close to your body, her front against your back, and the coarse fabric of her suit on your overheated skin adds to the fire building inside you. The vulnerability of being completely bare while she’s fully clothed and holding all the power has you melting against the desk, boneless and soft, there to take whatever she gives you.

Her lips press against your cheek in chaste kisses and she licks into your open mouth but you can’t keep up, so overwhelmed with the pleasure of her fingers inside you. She’s up to three now, filling and stretching you, fucking you faster than any normal human could.

She stands up straight again and brings her other hand around your hip to stroke at your clit, matching the speed of her thrusting fingers. You’re coming in seconds, even harder than before, clamping down on her fingers in vice-grip pulses as your hips stutter and jerk.

Carol brings you down gently this time, letting you hold her fingers inside as her other hand circles your clit slowly, giving you every aftershock of pleasure she can. She bends over you again, pressing gentle kisses to the sweat-slick skin of your neck and shoulders as you come down, only sliding her fingers from you when the last pulses are gone.

You manage to turn over, leaning back against the desk on boneless legs, just in time to see Carol licking at her fingers with a pleased-sounding hum. She winks at the hitch in your breath. “That was amazing, baby. Thank you,” she says.

You gape at her. “Thank me? Thank you. I’ll never be able to work here again,” you muse, breathless and hazy. “I’m only going to be thinking about that.”

She laughs and leans in for a kiss, trading the hint of your taste on her tongue.

“Can I go down on you? Please,” you blurt when she pulls away.

Her eyes widen slightly, like maybe she wasn’t expecting you to return the favour, but her lips curl in a teasing smile. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” She trades places with you so you’re standing in front of her as she leans against the desk. “On your knees,” she commands, and you follow, sinking to the floor on top of your discarded dress.

She undresses, but only as much as she has to, slouching off her jacket and leaving her shirt and tie. She undoes her belt buckle with deliberate slowness, then the button and fly of her pants. Finally, she toes off her shoes and removes her pants with surprising grace, and of course, she isn’t wearing underwear so you’re inches away from dark blond curls and pink folds. Your mouth waters with anticipation. You glance up for permission and Carol nods, spreading her legs. “Go ahead.”

God, you want this to be good for her. You settle in, resting your hands on the hard muscle of her thighs, feeling the soft hairs there against your palms. You spread her open with your tongue and take a few exploratory licks, getting her taste in your mouth, earthy and sharp, before you focus on her clit.

As expected, Carol takes charge of this too. She grinds against your lips, fists her hands in your hair to guide you, and keeps up a steady stream of praise. All, good girl; right there; doing so well for me, baby.

Other than the words spilling from her lips she’s quiet mostly, heavy breathing and the occasional gasp, but you know you must be doing something right because there’s no shortage of slick wetness seeping from her cunt to coat your tongue. You feel a distinct rush of pride whenever you manage to make her moan.

You pull out every trick you’ve got as you work, needing to make this good; you can’t bear the thought that this might be the only time you get to do this.

You lap at her clit in long, firm strokes, not sure how she feels about penetration and unwilling to take your lips away from her clit to ask. You keep your focus there, encouraged by the way her hips buck and her breaths get shorter and sharper like they’re being forced from her lungs in time with your tongue.

“Right there,” Carol gasps. “Don’t stop—fuck.” Your jaw aches but you hold steady, flicking over her clit as quickly as your tongue allows as her thighs tense and her breathing stops entirely. Then, with a long, low moan, all the tension leaves her at once as she comes, hips stuttering against your face. You slow down but keep up the motion until she twitches away.

Licking your lips, you sit back on your heels, face turned up to look at her. Her hair is messy, her cheeks and lips flushed deep pink, and her brown eyes seem even darker. She’s undone even more buttons on her shirt at some point and it gapes open, revealing a plain white bralette and an appealing strip of pale skin.

She smiles warmly down at you. “You look good on your knees,” she says, and your face burns as she studies you. Her eyes flit from your face, where you feel your mouth and chin still soaked with her slick, down your naked body, to your hands clasped in your lap. She reaches down, swipes a thumb across the mess on your face and presses it between your lips. Automatically you suck, pulling the taste of her into your mouth again until she takes her hand back.

There’s a moment or two of silence, and as you become aware of the soreness in your jaw and knees, and the fact that you’re kneeling naked on your office floor, you can’t help but start laughing, giggling uncontrollably as you flop down to sit on the floor completely. Carol laughs too, though less hysterically and seemingly in reaction to you more than any humour she finds in the situation.

“Oh my God,” you gasp through peals of laughter. “We just had sex. In my office. Where I work. This is not at all how I imagined this would go.”

Carol’s eyebrows raise at your accidental admission. “How exactly did you imagine it?” she asks. “And how often?” she adds, quirking her brows playfully.

You cover your face with your hands and groan as heat rushes to your cheeks yet again. Luckily, Carol rescues you from your embarrassment, effortlessly pulling you up from the floor for a kiss before pulling back to look you in the eyes. “Wanna get a pizza or something? I’m starving.”

+++

Thirty minutes later you’re sitting in a booth at the only pizza place in town, the two of you the only diners in the restaurant. Carol’s telling you a story about a brawl she got into at a bar on some planet called Argor while you both devour greasy slices of cheap pizza. Her feet nudge against yours occasionally under the table and she touches you casually as she talks.

You’re surprised at how comfortable it is between you. Even as you got dressed, handing each other articles of clothing you picked up off the floor and walking to the garage for your car. Carol’s easy charm and confidence keep the conversation running smoothly, and something about her demeanour must rub off on you because you don’t feel awkward at all.

You revel in the way she can be so dominant and poised but such a snarky dork at the same time, and you find her wide, genuine smiles just as charming as those cheeky little smirks.

As you’re nearing the end of your meal, with no mention of going out or even hooking up again, you decide you have to ask. You’re stupid enough (and infatuated enough) to agree to whatever arrangement Carol is looking for here, even though you know casual sex will only end in heartbreak for you, but you have to at least know, at the risk of spoiling the entire evening.

“So,” you start, gathering your courage. “Was this just—I mean, are you only looking for something casual right now, or?” you trail off.

Carol blinks at you over her coke. “Are you asking if I’m only interested in sex?”

You nod.

“Um, no,” she admits, shrugging. “The plan was actually to ask you out tonight. I was gonna show up, flirt with you a little—did you know you’re very cute when you’re flustered?” she teases, tapping your shin with her foot before continuing. “Then I was going to ask you out. But then you were wearing that dress and I got kinda carried away, I guess.”

“Oh. Wow.” Somehow, even after having her interest in you very must confirmed (at least physically) you still weren’t expecting that.

She nods. “Yep. I mean, I’ll be honest, I definitely would have tried to fuck you on the first date” she says, grinning at you over her drink, “but I did plan on there being a first date. Not that I have much experience with those on Earth, in this century.” She pauses, considering. “Is karaoke still cool?”

“Was karaoke ever cool?”

Carol’s lips twitch but she holds back her smile, quirking an eyebrow at you. “You should watch that attitude, baby, or I might have to punish you,” she says, pitching her voice low and smirking when your breath catches.

If you thought having a conclusive answer to the question, “Is Carol Danvers into me?” would keep her from dominating your thoughts, you were dead wrong. You’re pretty sure you’re going to be thinking about her even more now.

Bucky is going to be unbearably smug about it.

+++

A/N: Do I have a whole backstory of how Reader and Bucky became friends even though it has no relevance to this fic? Yes, yes I do.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed 😊 (Also, if you notice any typos or grammar mistakes, feel free to let me know!) Text divider courtesy of writeyourmindaway!

#carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x you #reader insert #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu #marvel #carol danvers #femslash february

163 notes · View notes

wonderlandhatter · 3 years

Text

Will you read to me?

Pairing: Spencer x femReader

Summary: You're feeling unsettled after a case, so Spencer helps you get some sleep and get a smile back on your face.

Word count: 1863

Warnings: fluff (is that a warning idk), mentions of an unsub, feeling overwhelmed after an unsub touches you (just your hand and waist nothing in detail). Tiny bit of angst I think mostly fluff though

A/N: Ok so this is my first attempt at writing a fic, it ended up being longer than I thought it would be, anyways if you would like to give me some feedback that would be greatly appreciated, hope someone out there enjoys this, I really liked writing it. Ooh also if I missed any warnings pls tell me.

A/N2: Hey so my old account got deleted so I'm reposting my fics if you have a sec I would appreciate it if you could boost it so i can try and get to where i was, thank you.

It had been a tough case, especially for you, the victimology fit you in every way and so you had been used to draw the unsub out, nothing had gone wrong but you could still feel his hand where he had touched yours, his alluring presence was lingering around you , all you wanted to do was go home and shower this feeling off but first you had to get there.

Unfortunately, there was still 2 hours left in the flight. So, until you did get home you would settle for sleep hoping time would pass faster, though you just couldn’t stop your mind from thinking, well overthinking. Spencer noticed this and it hurt him to see you like this he himself knew nothing had happened but he didn’t like the thought that you had even gone near that creep, to think about what he would have done to you, if the circumstances were different.

He couldn’t imagine what he would do if something had happened, you and him were close, very close, you had first bonded when he noticed your Dr who coin purse on your first day at the BAU, he hadn’t gotten a chance to say anything because at that moment Garcia bubbled into the bullpen announcing that they have a case. but when he saw it again on the jet, he couldn’t resist but to ask if you like the show, you love the show and your face visibly lit up at the mention of it as did his, you both exchanged a few words before Derek piped in to ask if that was the show with the flying phone booth but before Spencer had the chance to correct him, you did. ‘well firstly it’s a Tardis which stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space, secondly it isn’t a phone booth it’s a police box.’ Once you finish you simply smiled at him but before he could answer you piped up again early. ‘ ooh ooh and do you want to know why it’s a police box’, Derek honestly couldn’t care less but he couldn’t bare to take away the joy in your face that was brought by this nerdy little show you clearly loved, Spencer might also have been giving him a look that said ‘don’t you dare say no’, so he decided to indulge you, ‘sure kid tell me why it’s a police box’. Spencer saw your face light up even more if it was even possible, and so you began’ So the Tardis is supposed to change in appearance depending on where it is because of a component that is called ‘the chameleon circuit’ but something happened to it so it no longer works and is stuck as a police box, its explained in the first Dr who series in an episode called An Unearthly child. Oh and…..’ by this time Derek has lost interest and was only half listening but Spencer’s full attention was on you as you talked about something that clearly brought you joy, at this point he decided to chime in and so you two spent the rest of the jet ride to wherever it was you were going discussing your favourite episodes, plots and Drs. And so, a beautiful friendship began to bloom.

As spencer’s memory of that day came to an end he couldn’t help but be visibly sad at how much of a contrast your feeling were to that day, there was no smile so big you had dimples no hands moving around animatically as you talked and no interrupting your own sentences as you thought of something else you thought needed to be said. And certainly, no you trying to convince him that David tenant was the best Dr. now there was only an uneasiness about you, you looked sad and in slight distress.

Spencer couldn’t keep sitting there doing nothing, he wanted to take those feelings away no, he needed to take them away, he wanted to go over to you and hold you, place you on his lap and let you bury your face into his cardigan like you had done so many times before on your movie nights, but that wouldn’t be appropriate while the entire team was around, and he didn’t want to make you feel worse by being so forward so instead he stood up from his seat opposite Derek and J.J and made his way to you on the sofa holding his book, you were sat in the corner looking so small, holding a now cold cup of tea.

Your mind was anywhere but there so it took Spencer calling your name quietly before you realised anyone was sitting there, and as you saw him all those bad feelings were drowned out by those of joy and love, they weren’t gone but their overwhelming words were dulled, Spencer just had that effect on you, you weren’t completely sure when your feeling changed from hey that’s my friend, to hey that’s my friend who I would like to kiss, marry, and have babies with. Maybe it was the day he showed you how to do physics magic, or the day he brought you coffee every morning for 2 weeks because he spilled one the previous day on your white shirt, or maybe the first time he hugged you, you knew he wasn’t big on hugs but after a tough case for everyone he could see you needed it and honestly once he was there holding you he never wanted to stop, after that he wouldn’t hesitate to hug you, you both waved it off as friendly but you both just wanted to be as close as possible, maybe when you came to terms with the fact you would both try your best to have physical contact with each other, be it holding hands or falling asleep on each other’s shoulder is when you knew you wanted a lot more.

You were brought back by Spencer’s voice, ‘are you ok’,’ ‘oh, ah yeah sorry , my minds just wandering I guess’ you said looking down at your hands feeling bad for lying, he clearly knew you weren’t he was a profiler after all, and as you stared at your hand you once again remembered his lingering touch on your left hand, before your mind could wander further Spencer held your hand ,he spoke up ‘ don’t think about him, I know that’s what your doing , but he’s gone now were he cant hurt anyone else, were he can’t hurt you’. You looked away from him feeling silly ‘I know that, I don’t even know why I’m acting like this it’s ridiculous honestly he didn’t do anything he just touched my hand and waist but the thought of his hands on me just makes me feel sick, it’s like I can still feel him and I just want to wash it off and that’s all I can think about every time I try to sleep, I just want to sleep and forget about it spence’ as you said this you subconsciously scratched the back of your hand where his had been, spencer took both your hands once again before you could hurt yourself, ‘hey y/n, it isn’t silly, after seeing the crime scenes and knowing what he did to those women it is perfectly reasonable to be feeling like this’ you nod at his words and lean your head on his shoulder as you take in his familiar comforting smell, ‘thanks Spence’ you hear him hum in response as his head leans on top of yours.

You sit in comfortable silence just being with each other not even realising he hadn’t let go of your hand, it isn’t like you had made a move to either, and neither of you were planning on it. The jet was silent as everyone was either asleep, or going through some files, it was peaceful, it was wonderful.

You were the first to break the silence ‘what are you reading’ , ‘Alice’s adventures in wonderland’, you looked up at him from your place on his shoulder with a soft smile and simply stated ‘that’s my favourite book, I have a copy in my desk right now’ , ‘I know, that’s why I’m reading it, ‘ his reason made your heart swell as he continued, ‘even though it Is considered a classic I’ve never actually read it, I must say I am enjoying it’, ‘how far along are you’, ‘about half way’. Truthfully Spencer could have been done with the book already even though he had started it at the beginning of the flight, however this book was different, this was your favourite, this one meant so much to you and so he wanted to take it all in, he wanted that feeling you get when you first read a line that impacts you, a feeling you only get once with that line, a feeling he was getting often in this book because he knew you loved it and so he loved it.

The silence was disrupted by a very large yawn coming from you, he must admit you looked very cute when you were tired (he may also love the fact you were wearing one of his cardigans that you had claimed as your, and you also had very cute sweater paws). ‘Here lie down’ Spencer said, you knew you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep so you asked, ‘will you read to me’ there was barely a beat before you felt the need to justify your request, even though you didn’t need to he would do anything you asked. ‘it’s just I don’t think ill be able to sleep, and your voice is very calming’, the last part you said quietly and felt a light blush on your cheeks, spencer simply smiled and simply answered ‘of course ill read to you’, and so you laid you head down on his lap and he began reading once you were fully comfortable, ‘would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?’’ ‘’that depends a good deal on where you want to get to,’’ said the cat………’’ and so Spencer kept reading to you, an you kept listening, his hand made its way to your hair and began to play with it while your hand drew lazy nonsensical things on his leg , and as you heard the words you had read a million times before, and as the man you held so much love for played with your hair all your worries and thoughts melted away and you slowly let sleep take over , you felt conflicted as you didn’t want to miss this, miss Spencer’s voice recite something that meant so much to you, it was like hearing a completely new story, but at some point you let it take over and so you were finally able to sleep, Spencer never stopped reading to you or playing with your hair in fear of disturbing your peace, he was so happy there was a smile back on your face, he would read to you every hour of every day if it meant seeing you smile.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #spencer rwid x reader

109 notes · View notes

putschki1969 · 3 years

Photo

Wakana Spring Live ～magic moment～ 2021 Review

Note: I FINALLY got my package. Now that I watched the full live in HD, I thought I would share m thoughts and a little present below the cut ^_^ As always, I would like to encourage everyone to SUPPORT Wakana by BUYING her Blu-ray!!! Her sales numbers aren’t the greatest which is a huge shame since this is a solid release.

Overall thoughts: I got the Limited Edition of course since I couldn’t resist the pretty sleeve packaging, the bonus documentary (so insightful) and the photobook (scans coming up soon). It is quite pricey but totally worth the money, especially if you are among those fans who liked “Magic Moment” much more than Wakana’s debut album. The release comes with a gorgeous clearfile as tokuten so be sure to get it! Try going for the Regular Edition if you want to save money. As for the live itself, it was a pleasure to watch and I can see myself rewatching it a lot (skipping a few songs though :P). Wakana’s voice coaching lessons are definitely starting to pay off. She has so much stamina these days. Can you believe that this was her SECOND live performance of the day? Her vocals were solid, even during her high-demand power ballads. At rarely any point did she sound overly-screechy to my ears, there were certain sections that didn’t sound 100% smooth but those parts definitely didn’t take away from my overall enjoyment. On a side note, this live was a feast for the eyes, Wakana looked absolutely beautiful in her white dress and I even liked her encore outfit even though it was a little “out there” XD During the more up-beat songs, her smile literally lit up the entire hall. Seeing her have so much fun on stage is healing. I feel like they may have gone a little overboard on the blurry filters from time to time but I guess that was on purpose.

1.揺れる春: 6/10. This is obviously the perfect cute intro for a Spring Lives so I understand why Wakana put it here but I would have much preferred “breathing” as a grand entrance. Still so sad that this is the only song from the “magic moment” album that didn’t make it onto the setlist of this live. I know, we already got an official audio recording but I would have loved some video footage to accompany it :P Anyways, back to Yureru Haru. I haven’t really warmed up to the song yet. It’s not bad and I honestly love the verses since they are super precious and feel kinda nostalgic but the chorus doesn’t stand out imo. Also, her singing style during parts of the chorus isn’t my favourite and not overly flattering. 2.where: 4/10. Oh no!! I was hoping Wakana would be singing the “ohhhohhhs”. She could have easily done it during the start and middle part of the song since it wasn’t overlapping with her other vocals. This seems so rushed? Is it just me? I haven’t listened to the studio version in a while but I know that I quite enjoyed that and it definitely didn’t make me feel as fidgety as this. Don’t know what it is exactly but it keeps me from getting into the song. I guess this is the biggest disappointment for me because I wanted to like it. 3.君だけのステージ: 4/10. I will admit it, this is not my favourite song. It’s just way too long :P But it is a very good and energetic performance, really no complaints when it comes to Wakana. But experiencing it live at the venue would have made it so much better for me. Oh well, nothing that can be done about it. The scat part at the end was a pleasant surprise. Would have loved to hear more of that. 4.442: 100/10. Honestly a masterpiece. One of Wakana’s best solo songs up-to-date and so very perfect to show off her vocals. Hearing it live like this with a band arrangement is a revelation. I love the wailing in the beginning and all the strength she conveys throughout the rest of the song. 5.ひらりひらり: 3/10. Another song I haven’t warmed up to yet. No real thoughts. It’s one of those songs that’s just very forgettable, not bad per se but there is just nothing at all that attracts me to it. :-( As you can tell, I wasn’t entirely happy with some of the setlist choices. Wakana obviously wanted to include all the album songs but some of them are just not my cup of tea T_T 6.夕焼け: 6/10. This is one of the pieces that gets better every time I listen to it. And the latter half of the song is generally much nicer. I am always surprised by how much I actually like it when it’s over :P 7.アキノサクラ Acoustic ver.: 7/10. I am distracted by that harmonica sound-alike thingy Satoshi Takebe is playing XD Still, I have come to really like this song last winter so it is always appreciated, especially the acoustic version. Wakana is struggling a bit during the ending but nothing too bad. 8.myself: 100/10. Utter perfection. So much better than the studio version. And I am not saying this because I disliked the studio version, quite the contrary actually, I LOVED it but these two versions are honestly miles apart. Wakana’s live performance feels so much more raw and emotional. And her vocals in this are pretty much flawless, I can’t even begin to describe how this song makes me feel. A perfect ballad for Wakana. 9.メロディー (Cover): 8/10. My first reaction was boring. But by the third listen I was totally smitten and now it’s among my faves from this live. Be sure to give it a few tries, it really grows on you. I can tell why Takebe would choose this for Wakana. 10.元気を出して (Cover): 8/10. Ahhhhh, so freaking cute and old-school. Nothing beats a nostalgic, fluffy pop song from the 80s. I am here for this content. The “lalalas” at the end are LOVE. 11.オレンジ: 6/10. I like the song but I have to be in the mood for it. And here we have that fake harmonica thingy again. I enjoy the sound of a harmonica about as much as the sound of an accordion (which means not at all :P) but it fits the vibe of the song so I am okay with it. The bridge is usually my favourite part but Wakana’s delivery wasn’t as smooth as I would have liked. It was nice to have this right after “Genki wo Dashite” because both are encouraging pick-me-ups. 12.恋はいつも: 10/10. One day I wanna hear her sing the “baby, baby” part!! Please! Another absolutely highlight, you all know that I ADORE this song, I could listen to this FOREVER. It’s such a shame the corona guidelines do not allow the audience to sing along because the ending is so much more powerful if everyone is actually singing instead of just clapping. 13.Happy Hello Day: 8/10. Such a feel-good piece. Initially I didn’t like it much but seeing it performed with an audience during her Music Party and now here, has really made me fall in love with it. I have mentioned it before in my initial reaction to the YouTube leak but I wish she would have sung some lalalas at the end just as she did during her Music Party. 14.magic moment: 9/10. I KNEW I would love this song more once I got to hear it live. I still feel like the composition is a bit choppy and thus not as flowy as I would have liked from a power ballad like this but OMG, Wakana’s live performance is EVERYTHING. Blown away by her powerful vocals, she OWNS this song 15.時を越える夜に: 10/10. Two power ballads back to back. What more could I ask for? I know not many people liked Wakana’s solo debut but I personally always thought it was perfect for her. I consider this to be one of her best songs. Say what you will about Takebe but he certainly knows how to make Wakana shine, at least in my opinion. And the song has only gotten better with every live performance. Although I think I preferred the version from her Voice Tour. So very glad we got at least one track from Wakana’s first album. The original setlist actually included Kinmokusei and Kioku no Hito which are two of my faves (they were later exchanged with the two covers). 16.春を待つ (Kalafina Cover): 8/10. Despite this being one of Keiko’s favourite Kala-songs I never could bring myself to really appreciate it. It’s just an okay song for me. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy it quite a bit but I don’t go out of my way to listen to it. However, I very much loved Wakana’s cover though, she does a good job singing everyone’s lines and since the original doesn’t have any harmonies her solo performance doesn’t feel too lacking. 17.あとひとつ: 10/10. Always a treat. Can’t believe this STILL hasn’t gotten an official release :P But I understand Wakana’s reasoning, she wants to keep this song a unique live experience and it really is. I can’t help but tear up whenever she is singing this.

Documentary: I haven’t watched all of it yet but OMG, this is so cool. The first 20 minutes are dedicated to rehearsals. I love seeing Wakana like this, just being her cute dorky self. But poor baby, it was hard seeing her this exhausted after the big studio rehearsal (that’s what the gif is from - being her overdramatic self, she literally dropped dead to the floor). The second half of the documentary is Wakana talking about the production of the live and the different songs of the setlist.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Wakana Spring Live ～magic moment～ 2021 Google Drive (3,11 GB) 🎁

Documentary of Wakana Spring Live ～magic moment～ 2021 Google Drive (1 GB) 🎁

Wakana Spring Live ～magic moment～ 2021 MP3s Google Drive 🎁

FOR ❗PERSONAL❗ USE ONLY DO ❗NOT SHARE ON OTHER SITES WITHOUT PERMISSION❗

#kalafina #wakana #review #video #Wakana Spring Live ～magic moment～ 2021 #it took forever to encode this T_T #audio #mp3 #mp3s

31 notes · View notes

serendipityjxmn · 3 years

Text

Mr. President

Chapter 4

TW: None

Words Count: 3k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 5

There are several moments in our life that we may call life-changing. And from those life-changing moments, there are the ones that you’ve been waiting for your whole life that you imagine so much on how it’s going to happen. There are also the ones that come when you least expect it, you don’t even have time to react.

But there are also the events where you’ve been been waiting- dreaming for, and somehow it turns into something you least expect.

It’s funny how we think that if we imagine and plan one thing for a long time, when it finally happens, it would happen exactly the way you imagine it to be- spare the few millimetres of difference which you perhaps could look over. Take for instance, a wedding event. People- girls typically- imagine it beforehand and when it happens, it happens exactly the way they imagine it to be.

You might not have the luxury to conjure your dream wedding in your mind ever since you’re young, or plan it meticulously to every detail, or imagining the colour of your dress or how long it would be, but to the very least, you did imagine that you’d be marrying some knight in shining armour in modern version - which translates to a decent enough guy.

Someone who’s kind, can generally be communicated with, not involved in fights - a normal person.

How funny that the dreams can easily be shattered.

Here you are, alone in the large bedroom and contemplating about your life decision. You married Park Jimin three days ago. The wedding was private, only signings of papers involved though Jimin had to do a press conference shortly after which was only attended by him to inform his marriage. He told you it was better off for you to stay out of public so that they don’t follow you after your divorce. Of course, you thought, since the marriage is temporary.

Everything happened very fast that day. Too fast for you to process anything that somehow it still feels surreal that you’re married. You’ve exchanged very few words with your husband too but somehow they’re all etched in your mind.

During the signing of documents, which basically all there is to your wedding, he barely says anything to you at all except when the priest asks and he only stares at you deeply while uttering the word ‘I do.’ When his hands briefly brush with yours to put a ring on your finger, you suddenly felt an overwhelming feeling- you felt scared, anxious of this new life yet there’s also a twisted feeling of you being safe, perhaps because you now have a house though you can’t call it home just yet.

The house had been particularly empty ever since you moved in. Jimin wasn’t around, didn’t even bother mentioning where he would be and you’re left wondering on your own whether he has another house or he’s sleeping anywhere else but his house. If it’s the latter, you can’t help but feel guilty for ‘taking his home away’. He could’ve just stay here and you can sleep in the guest room or the couch at that.

With your newfound freedom and due to boredom that’s starting to take over as well as lack of people to communicate with, you start to roam around and explore the house. You learn that Mrs. Lee doesn’t live here as you originally thought but usually available every one or two days and mostly during daytime. She cooks and leaves the meal wrapped in foils for Jimin to reheat whenever he wants.

Mrs. Lee has also been nothing but pleasant enough to tell you most of the things she know about your husband. She told you that Jimin’s a very private person so she may not know much about his personal matter apart from the fact that Jimin will be inheriting Park Corporations from his father though Jimin himself did build himself together with his group of close friends, a tech company which went public about a year ago.

You find yourself getting more curious about your husband though he’s barely around. You learn about his favourite dishes too, one of them being kimchi jigae stew which Mrs. Lee very kindly taught you how to make. You admit that at first you think it is all useless to get to know about Jimin but then you also think that there’s no harm in learning about him even though the marriage’s temporary, nothing’s stated that you can’t have a civil relationship with him, perhaps as a friend.

This goes on for about a week, of you exploring and sitting down having conversations with Mrs. Lee though some day you’d rest on your bed, your body not entirely well enough to do a lot of activities everyday. Your ribs still shooting jarring pains every now and then and your lips are still torn. You silently thank Mrs. Lee for coming to your room, leaving medicines on the table on days when you feel extra tired.

You’re in your bedroom, standing right in front of your huge closet, eyeing the clothes though there’s none that was originally yours. When you moved in, it had been practically easy, you literally brought nothing with you since you don’t have much anyways. Mrs. Lee did inform clothes for you to wear had been bought prior to your wedding.

Though the thing is… almost every single one of them are dresses. They are pretty, you think. It’s just that you are not used to it. You sigh as you find yourself a pyjama set. They’re all mostly satin and silks too, another thing you have to get used to as well.

You sit on the edge of your bed, playing with your wedding ring, briefly wondering whether this is how your life is going to be from now on. It’s temporary, your brain reminds you. You frown. You’ve been wondering almost every single day without fail on why did Jimin decide to propose a marriage contract with you. There’s nothing you could give back, nothing that could benefit him any way no matter how you think about it. It is temporary, yes but you doubt he would do this if it doesn’t give him any benefit. He doesn’t strike you as someone kind enough to jeopardise his married life out of charity. You still shudder to this day thinking about how he handled your brother to half dead. You sigh, hands tightening on your pyjama as your thought goes to your brother.

A knock on the door startles you, making a gasp escape your mouth. Jimin enters, looking as gorgeous as when you first met him in his working attire without the blazer. He stops dead when he takes you in just your towel and you quickly place your hands on your chest in a meek attempt to cover your modest parts. He looks awkward, looking everywhere but you.

“Get dressed. My friends’ here.” He says simply before turning his back but then he stops and turns again, this time looking straight at your face. You feel a blush creeping at your cheeks immediately. “Put some makeup on or something. They might think I’m beating you.” At his words, you have no idea why your hands instantly went to your thigh, immediately conscious at the ugly slit on your thigh. He clears his throat before retreating and closing the door behind him.

You realise you didn’t breathe at all throughout the whole encounter. As you make your way back to your closet to find yourself a dress, you wonder if Jimin realises this is his first time seeing you in about a week after your wedding. Perhaps not.

Brushing your hair, you swallow a little as you watch your own reflection in the mirror. You still look sick and pale so you make an effort to cover the wound on your forehead with some powder and also put on some lipstick, Jimin’s words echoing in your head.

Bracing yourself, you can’t help but feel nervous as you make your way downstairs. You’re excited too since you haven’t been speaking to anyone but Mrs. Lee for almost a week. Before you could descend the last step of the stairs, you could hear them before you could see them. The sound of laughter fills the house making you wonder how many of them came.

You make your way to the living room and Jimin turns immediately, making you momentarily blinded with the way he’s smiling at you. The others notice you right away while Jimin saunters towards you. He leans down, close to you.

“They don’t really know about our contract except for Taehyung, so act your part.” With the way he’s smiling at you, you’d think he’s the sweetest husband in the world yet the threat lacing his words tells you otherwise. Suddenly, you feel very very afraid.

Still, you follow behind him silently, heart suddenly flutters when you see him wearing his wedding ring. He didn’t really have to.. does he? You only look up when he stops in his tracks. You’re met with six gorgeous guys in front of you.

“Wow, you actually exist!” A guy with very sharp nose and jawline grins widely at you. He seems like a very cheerful guy. “Nice to meet you Y/N, I’m Hoseok.” He waves at you, all white teeth flashing.

Unknowingly, you beam back at him, almost impossible not to with the bright energy he exudes. You reply back softly, not daring to say much since you’re unsure how to act, especially with Jimin around.

“Jimin’s been keeping you in his house so much, we thought we’d never see you.” The next one smiles kindly at you. You wish you could describe how beautiful he is. Tall, all broad shouldered and not to mention such blinding visuals. He speaks with such grace you immediately feel endeared by him. “My name is Jin.” You smile back at him.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Park. I’m Namjoon. I can see why he’s keeping you at home. You’re very pretty.” A tall guy with blonde hair smiles brightly at you. He even has dimples on each side of his cheeks and you can’t help but marvel at his gorgeous face. You can’t help the blush that creeps to your cheeks when he mentions your new last name as well as his compliment.

You peek slightly at Jimin but he only stares impassively ahead, not giving anything away. You quickly brush off the slight disappointment you feel.

“I’m Yoongi. Nice to meet you.” The guy in red-wine hair smiles at you. He’s slightly shorter than the rest of them but is still handsome. You nod at him as you smile kindly back at him.

“We’ve met before.” Taehyung smiles warmly at you and you nod back several times at him, happy to see someone you know.

The last but not least, is almost as tall as Namjoon and Jin but you can somehow tell he’s the youngest among them. “Hello Y/N. I’m Jungkook. We’re same age!” He says happily and you grin at him too, quickly falling for his bright smile with cute bunny teeth. You greet all of them back, introducing yourself again although they already know your name.

“Please have a seat. I’ll prepare drinks for you guys.” You say softly.

“Oh, no, it’s okay. We’re just here to drop Jimin off.” Jin quickly says.

“And hoping to see you too,” Hoseok winks at you. The rest of them gathers at the front door.

You frown slightly at Jin’s sentence. Then you turn towards Jimin, eyes finding him to ask him a question but unsure whether you’re allowed to. He must’ve sensed your stare, his eyes look down to meet yours.

“Y-you’re.. sleeping here..?” You ask slowly.

Before Jimin could answer, Namjoon cut him off. “Sorry we’ve been keeping him at the office too much. There’s an acquisition ongoing in the company so we’re quite busy at the moment.”

So he’s been sleeping at the office…

“But rest assured, we’ll make sure he’ll be home often now. The crucial part is done.” Hoseok says teasingly at you.

You smile, though slightly weirded how you feel pleasant with the fact that he’ll be home a lot now. Perhaps you’re just happy you won’t be alone now.. yes probably that.

They all say their goodbye and you happily wave them off.

As soon as they left, you’re suddenly hit with the realisation that you’re alone with Jimin in the house. As if on cue, you feel your hair rise when you feel a heavy presence behind you. You turn but immediately regrets the decision because Jimin is now inches from your face. Too close… you think. Nerves run down your spine as he seems to lean even closer to you. You swear your heart’s beating like crazy right now.

“So what did you do around the house the past week?” His question’s innocent but why do you feel like a rabbit trapped in a hole?

To your relief, he straightens. You feel like you could finally breathe, although your heart’s still beating at an abnormal pace. You swallow. “N-nothing much.” Is that the first thing he’s asking after a whole week of leaving you alone?

He stares at you while you make an effort to look anywhere but him. You’d give anything to know what’s on his mind. He then turns without saying anything. You take the time to stabilise your breathing, inhaling and exhaling deeply before slowly making your way back to the bedroom, noting how your heart rate is picking up its pace.

You open the door to your bedroom and let out a gasp when you find yourself walking on Jimin shirtless. You turn instantly, unable to think properly and let out another gasp when you knock your head on the door.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” His voice asks you harshly, making you jump.

You mutter an apology as you scrunch your face, thinking how this has gone completely wrong. You did not want to make such a bad first impression towards Jimin.

“H-have you eaten?” Your voice came out so meekly you almost want to hit your head against the door again.

“Do you think I have some kind of supernatural hearing to hear you from that far?” He snaps at you, making you flinch. You swallow and trepidation starts to fill you whole.

You turn slowly and approaches him, eyes shut tight to prevent yourself from seeing anything you shouldn’t and protecting the innocence of your own eyes but end up almost stumbling. You open your eyes, relieved that he’s now wearing a shirt. You briefly wonder how on earth he could look so handsome just by wearing a plain black shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He’s staring at you, obviously unimpressed at your antics.

“I’m asking if you’ve eaten? If you want to I can-“

“I already ate. With the boys.” He cut you off then takes his place on the bed, preparing to sleep.

Oh. Okay. You nod. You stand there awkwardly, contemplating whether you should ask the next question that has been on your mind since last week.

“Are you just gonna stand there creepily and stare while I’m trying to sleep?” He snaps back at you and you flinch. He’s sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard, waist and leg completely covered by the blanket.

You fidget with the hem of your dress. “I- I want to ask you something.” He doesn’t answer you but only looks at his phone. “Why.. why did you offer me the marriage contract?”

He stops his act and is now staring at you sharply. “Having second thoughts now that you realise it’s not all hearts and flowers?” He smirks.

“N-no.. not like that.. I know.. I don’t deserve all that.. It’s just that- I was just curious.. You could’ve just hire me or.. just..” You trail off, unsure of how to put everything into words when your mind is a whole chaos. “It’s just that I don’t see how you’re benefitting from this arrangement.”

“Oh trust me, I do have my benefits in this.” He answers almost immediately and you stare at him, puzzled. He smirks before his face turns sinister. “You’re only here because you owe me a debt. That means I own your little life, mine to do whatever I want.” Psychotic, the word echoes in your mind. “And trust me little one, you’re better off not knowing the reason behind this marriage.”

What on earth have you gotten yourself into?

Your blood runs cold. Without uttering another word, you turn to grab your pyjama you took out before and disappears towards the bathroom. You take your time in the bathroom, trying to calm your nerves as you change. Tonight, you come into a conclusion. Park Jimin’s psychotic.. and a very dangerous man. You should never cross line with him.

Hands balling into a fist, you step out of the bathroom and finds the bedroom in darkness except for the table lamp on your side of the bed. Jimin appears already asleep. You approach silently and takes the time to stare at his face. He’s very beautiful, you would think, if you didn’t know better of it only being a mask.

You stand on the edge of the bed for several moments, contemplating whether you’re allowed to sleep on the bed with him. The King size bed is large enough without the two of you having the possibility of coming in contact with each other yet you’re still having second thoughts about it. You don’t want to wake up being strangled by him just because you decided to sleep on the same bed with him. So you make your way to the couch on the side of the bedroom and curls yourself on it. Using your hands as your own pillow, you fall asleep quickly.

Link to Chapter 5

Posted on 210402 9:00PM

#serendipityjxmn #serendipityjxmnmrpresident #mrpresident #bts fic #jimin fic #jimin au #park jimin #parkjimin #jimin smut #smut #kpop #mafia #jimin mafia #ceo jimin #bts smut #bts au #bts mafia

115 notes · View notes

imagine-loki · 3 years

Text

What About Trust, Chapter 3

TITLE: What About Trust CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 3 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki owns a bookshop on Midgard. He had to do something there to try and avoid getting any attention. But he’s not fond of having customers, is rather grumpy and guarded. But then he meets a bright, bubbly and trusting young woman who doesn’t recognise him. To his dismay, he finds himself becoming rather fond of the mortal. RATING: M

Cleo was far from bored with Loki’s shop.

She returned a few days later, he had groaned in annoyance when he heard the bell ringing above the door. But he would be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly happy to see it was Cleo stepping into his shop.

‘Hey, Luke!’ She smiled at him as he approached her.

Loki stopped a few feet away and folded his arms over his chest. ‘Good afternoon. What are you doing back here?’ He queried.

‘I was hoping to spend more time here reading some books… I brought you a present, too.’ She held out a box towards him.

Raising an eyebrow, he studied the offending box first. He knew it was something edible from the box shape. ‘What is it?’

‘Cake!’ She chirped.

‘Cake?’

‘Yes, cake. Surely you like cake? Everyone does!’ She said as she thrust the box into his hands.

‘What kind of cake?’

‘I’m hoping your favourite.’

‘How do you know what my favourite is?’ He asked as he started to open one of the flaps to take a peek.

‘I’m usually pretty good at guessing, and I feel like you’re a chocolate fan.’ She smirked a little when she noticed his eyes twinkle ever so slightly when he saw said chocolate cake, but he put on a mask and gazed back at her indifferently.

‘It looks… nice. Thank you.’ He shrugged and turned around.

‘So…’

‘So, what?’ Loki asked, turning back to face her.

‘Can I read more of your books while you enjoy your cake?’ She asked, hopeful.

Loki sighed in a dramatic manner. ‘I suppose so… But no more of your silly stunts, I don’t want to get sued if you have an accident in my shop.’ He growled.

She grinned. ‘I’ll be on my best behaviour, promise.’ She skipped over to the nearest bookshelf and started looking through his books.

Loki shook his head but half smiled as he disappeared through the back for a bit.

When Cleo found a book that piqued her interest, she sat down on the chair by the fireplace. It was quickly becoming her favourite place, that was for sure. There was also something about Luke that was rather… alluring. He seemed a little grumpy, but not in a nasty way really, like he was just a bit guarded, perhaps.

Though she was pleasantly surprised when he reappeared ten minutes later, placing a slice of the cake down onto the table on front of her on a small plate. She looked up and saw he had a slice too, along with a chair he had taken from through the back that he placed opposite her and sat down.

‘So, you’re either sharing with me because it’s not as tasty as you had hoped, or because you are starting to enjoy my presence here?’ She grinned, really hoping it was the latter.

Loki narrowed his eyes at her for a moment, smirking. ‘Don’t get your hopes up, darling. It’s the first.’

Cleo rolled her eyes, but she took the fact he was sharing and decided to join her as a win anyway…

‘Have you always wanted to have your own book shop?’ She asked after taking a bite of the cake, it was so scrummy. She was beginning to regret not keeping it for herself.

Loki shrugged a little. ‘I’ve always loved reading, being in my own company with a good book is hard to beat. The opportunity to have my own shop, read at my own leisure day in and day out, was hard to pass up.’

She nodded in agreement. ‘I feel similar with the record shop. I love helping people find what they need or recommending other music to them that they might like. But the best part is being able to play whatever I want in the shop while I’m on shift. And when there’s no customers in, I can read for a while. Music and books are perfect.’

‘They are both a good escape. I will need to come along to the record shop sometime, I am in need of some new records. And I am in need of a new record player, my current one is a little worn out.’

‘Well, we have a few in stock. But we are getting a delivery on Wednesday with some more, apparently better models. I could keep one to the side for you if you might be interested?’

Loki smiled and nodded. ‘That would be very kind of you.’

‘What sort of music are you into?’ Cleo asked him.

Loki pondered for a moment, his finger tapping his lower lip. ‘I’m rather open to almost any type of music, as long as it’s good. I tend not to take in lyrics as much as I do the melody of songs, the instruments used.’

‘Oh I agree, to an extent. But lyrics can be so powerful too, if you get the right artists. They tell a story through song, there are some incredible song writers out there with lyrics to die for.’

Loki found himself gazing at her for longer than he had meant to. But seeing her talk so passionately about music made her face light up, making her features even more attractive.

He tried to shake those thoughts out of his mind. Just because she was beautiful, passionate about books and music, kind and witty… He grumbled internally at himself, stop. He had to stop. She was a mortal. He needed to stop thinking about her in any other way than that.

‘Some artists are like the Shakespeare of music.’ She grinned.

Loki chuckled and nodded. ‘When I get my new record player, you will need to recommend some of these ‘Shakespeare’s of music’ to me.’

The book Cleo had picked out previously, went unread on Cleo’s lap as she and Loki continued talking for a while.

An hour had passed by before Cleo realised the time.

‘Oh god. Every time I end up in here, I lose all track of time.’ She laughed and hopped up to her feet to put the book back on the shelf, in its rightful place.

Loki smiled and stood. ‘What can I say, it’s the best book shop in town.’ He said cockily, hands out at his sides.

‘Can’t argue with you there.’ Cleo laughed.

Loki walked over to the door with her and opened it for her, turning the sign to closed while he was there.

‘Thanks again, Luke.’ Cleo smiled at him and started heading out.

‘For the record, Cleo… It was actually the latter.’ He winked at her. Though he didn’t tell her about devouring the entire cake through the back, it was far too divine for his sweet tooth. It had taken all of his will power to save the last two slices to take through to share with her.

‘Knew it.’ Cleo grinned and continued out, making Loki chuckle.

And for the rest of the day, Cleo couldn’t stop smiling. And neither could Loki.

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #What About Trust #chapter 3 #fanficshiddle

39 notes · View notes

discotreque · 3 years

Text

LwD 2.05: An Embarrassment of Dooplers

So I was a little nervous about this one! I hadn’t heard any spoiler-spoilers, but screeners have been out for weeks now, and I’d heard a bunch of individual, vague, non-spoilery hints about (1) big character moments, on the scale of a mid-season finale even though the show’s not taking a mid-season break; and (2) an ending that would make me cry.

I guess I imagined something relatively serious and dramatic, like “No Small Parts”? This show makes me cackle with laughter and giggle with nerdy glee and “d’awww!” at heartwarming friendships every week, but it’s only ever made me cry once—and then I was impressed that they were going to get there from the wacky hijinks we saw in the brief teaser.

The lack of a cold open made me apprehensive too—in my experience, that’s typically a sign that there’s so much plot in the rest of the episode that they need that extra scene—but after ~21.5 minutes of aforementioned hijinks, I was having so much fun that I’d completely forgotten about the alleged tear-jerker at the end…

…and they were not the tears I was expecting.

I didn’t think I’d be smiling and crying!!!! That was wholesome as SHIT!!!!!

I almost can’t believe they earned that—but they totally did.

After a Mariner–Tendi episode and a Boimler–Rutherford episode, we’re back to the “usual” Season 1 pairings… except the relationships between these characters have changed since Season 1. Mariner still feels thwacked in the abandonment issues by Boimler bailing for the Titan, and Rutherford’s having a tiny little existential crisis about losing an entire year of his life.

Both of which are extremely understandable and very heavy situations—and both of those situations get resolved because everyone in them is vulnerable with each other and honest about their feelings—AND that honesty and vulnerability brings both pairs of friends closer together. Are you kidding me?? I would watch SEVENTY seasons of that shit. Put it in my veins.

Onto the notes:

So basically Dooplers are Tribbles, but for cringe comedy instead of slapstick? Ohhhhh boy.

Look at Ransom the diplomat, tossing his own fork on the floor! I like that he’s actually a pretty competent Starfleet officer, despite also being a completely ridiculous person.

Wait a second, is that—OH HOLY SHIT, THE DOOPLERS ARE VOICED BY RICHARD KIND.

It makes sense that B. Boimler would find William annoying—who likes seeing their own flaws reflected back at them? And who could be a better reflection of one’s flaws than one’s literal duplicate?—but most interesting to me is that it implies on some level, Bradward knows the stick up his butt is a flaw. (Does William?)

Why does the Cerritos model have working phasers?!?!

I’m loving hot pink as the currently en-vogue colour for “dangerous sci-fi energy” in animation (cf. almost every previous episode of this show; Into the Spider-Verse; other stuff I can’t remember right now). As a former child of the 80’s, I’m living for it… but as a former teenager of the 90’s, I can’t help but wonder if it’s going to age as poorly as the harsh neon green of The Matrix, every Borg appearance on Voyager, and like 80% of the websites I made in high school…

SKANTS! SKANTS! SKANTS!

That fake-out joke with the fly-by over the Cerritos model was in the season trailer weeks ago, and I was so enthralled by that handsome lady that the sticker coming into frame still got me good 😂😂😂

BECKY Mariner????? omg yes

Some top-quality Boimler screams in this one. Poor Jack Quaid must drink gallons of throat-coat tea when he records.

One of the great things about Star Trek to me is that you never know what you’re going to get from any random episode. A murder mystery? A road trip? A spooky thriller? A cheesy romance? Broad comedy? Body horror? Didactic political screeds shrouded in tissue-thin science-fiction metaphors? Brain and brain, what is brain??? And after this many years of watching, you’d think I’d be hard to surprise. But if I ever told you I thought I’d see a Blues Brothers–style car chase through a frickin’ shopping mall on an episode of Star Trek, I would have been straight-up lying to you. I loved it, it worked for me, my jaw was on the floor and I was clapping with joy—but I’m definitely comfortable calling this one “unexpected.”

It’s CAPTAIN SHELBY!!! And an ancient babydyke crush rose from the depths of my childhood subconscious… (Also I think her Number One is based on the original makeup—eventually deemed too complicated—for Saru? Now that’s a deep cut.)

In 20th-century Trek, you almost never got to see what was going on inside a starship from the outside. Even after they switched from physical models (where it was next to impossible on a single episode’s budget) to CGI (which was still in its infancy, still not exactly cheap, and still broadcast in SD anyway), it was a rare thrill to see any meaningful interior details in an exterior shot. Disco’s modern VFX have given us some tasty, tasty treats in that department, but nothing quite as sublime as all the pink Doopler light glittering through the Cerritos’s windows.

Mariner says she’ll take her contact Malvus down with her, and threatens that they’ll end up “in the same cell.” Malvus is a Mizarian, a species introduced in TNG’s “Allegiance,” in which Captain Picard is held in a mysterious prison with one. I think I see what you did there, McMahan?

Bartender… so hot… lesbian circuits… overloading…

The Tendi and Rutherford C-story was, well, a C-story within a 22-minute episode, so there wasn’t much to it, but the one scene that mattered actually mattered a lot. I’m ambivalent on whether they should end up romantically involved—I’d prefer they don’t, but they’ll be one of the cutest couples in Trek history if they do—and as long as they keep that pure, sweet friendship between them at the heart of whatever else happens, I’m on board.

Carol Freeman was already one of my favourite captains before this season, and she’s been steadily moving up the list. The quiet throughline about her ambition to be on a better ship has been fascinating so far, and it’s starting to actually make me feel a little conflicted: I’m of course rooting for Captain Freeman to recognize her worth, make Starfleet recognize her worth, and become the ass-kicking captain of a hero ship that she’s clearly ready to be—but that almost surely means she’d be kicking ass off-screen, because LwD isn’t about those kind of adventures, and I’d be devastated not to have Dawnn Lewis on the show every week. So I’m kind of on the edge of my seat about this one!

I had so many favourite jokes this week I put them in a separate list:

“Even the replicated water on the Titan tasted better” is a low-key brilliant dunk on people who can’t shut the fuck up about the cooler places they used to live.

“Ooooh, they have a Quark’s now! That used to just be an empty lot where teens would make mistakes!” ← That’s literally me every time I go back to where I grew up. I felt so Seen™ I almost hid under a blanket.

“I would never go down the stairs!” (evil grin) (goes up the stairs)

The “well, shit” expressions from Mariner and Boimler as their crashed car sank right into the water… which started to bubble innocuously… and then the bottles of Data bubble-bath popped up, paying off a joke I thought had already been paid off—that was the one that woke up my poor cat this week. Just exquisite timing.

“YOUR PAGH IS WEAK, AND IT DISGUSTS ME!” “I don’t even know what that is, but I don’t like your tone!”

“Okona’s in there? He’s not even Starfleet! This is outrageous!” made me shout “NO!” at the screen like I was scolding my cat for scratching furniture. (She did not wake up that time.)

Best background joke: the neon sign at the dive bar advertising FREE SHOTS & BEERS. (Get it? Because they’re on a Federation starbase? Where nobody uses money?)

And of course Quark merchandised DS9.

This wasn’t just a standout episode of Lower Decks, this was a brilliant episode of Star Trek, period. The Dooplers, though extremely silly, are nevertheless also a clever sci-fi metaphor for real and relatable personal/interpersonal issues, and an effective plot catalyst for meaningful character growth from all four of our ensigns and the captain.

The jokes were hilarious, the action was kinetic, the A-, B-, and C-plots linked up thematically, the visuals were consistently and thoroughly gorgeous, the character beats—between Mariner and Boimler, Tendi and Rutherford, Mariner and Capt. Freeman—were all genuine, heartfelt and wholesome, and the references to other Trek canon were both deep and deeply affectionate.

Only 15 episodes in, and this series knows exactly what it is, exactly what it wants to do, and knows that it can knock our socks off doing it. Mike McMahan has said in recent interviews that the back half of S2 (and the apparently almost-fully-written S3) is a straight line uphill in quality from here—which surprised me at first, because McMahan seems like a pretty chill dude who doesn’t normally brag about his own work like that.

But then the Prophets sent me a vision of my space dad Ben Sisko, who reminded me of the words of 1930’s baseball player Dizzy Dean:

“If you can do it, it ain’t bragging.”

[Thanks to cygnus-x1.net for the screenshots this week—I was too lazy to do my own.]

#star trek #star trek lower decks #lower decks #lower decks spoilers #lwd spoilers #amy's episode notes

34 notes · View notes