#it's very clear to me that jim can turn on the charm when he wants to | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

froms8nsashes · 4 months

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Colorful

Ed was so used to the greys, blacks, browns, blues, and murky tones of the Gotham police department. He was used to seeing the colorless world as if a filter had been put over his eyes. The colorless world didn't make him depressed, as one would typically think. No, Gotham is his home, always has been. Gotham never bummed him out.

The people did.

As much as he smiled and nodded, complied with what detectives and officer's asked of him while on the job. He couldn't help but hate them in the back of his mind. They were all sad, depressed assholes who clearly could never figure out his daily riddles. Including that medical examiner. Always shouting and reporting him to the captain because "he's not supposed to be in the examiner's office. he's forensics."

That guy deserved the harmless prank. It was either Ed got suspended or her did, and there was no reason for Ed to get suspended.

Just after his friend Jim had gotten demoted to Arkham asylum duty- he only knew because he was listening in- there was a new face in the GCPD. A new, colorful face.

Her hair was stark red, green striped sweater, yellow smiley face earrings. She wasn't grey, or dreary. He couldn't help but smile when he saw her in the medical examiner's office, looking around. Tracing her finger pads over every little detail. Familiarizing herself with the place.

"I question what lies above, and I'm shared with those you love. At my sound your hands will shake, and oft heard soon after wake. A card not found in a deck." Ed plastered a kind smile on his face when she turned around, not all that startled.

"Oh, I was told by some of the officers out there that someone around here liked riddles." Her smile was bright, like the rest of her. She thought for a moment.

"Do you give up?" Ed asked, he didn't feel like he was being pushed away or ushered off.

"Hey, I didn't know they hired such a nice lookin' lady as the new medical examiner."

He tightened his grip on the files he was holding but nonetheless tried to seem polite. Officer Tom Dougherty was not a man he would like to be in the same room with.

"I appreciate the compliment, but I don't think that charm is going to work on me." She noticed Ed's body language, fixing her posture herself.

"Come now, don't let riddle man here bore you." Tom clapped a hand on Ed's shoulder and his entire body tensed. She could see just how uncomfortable he was by the expression on his face.

Ed still tried to look polite and kind.

She cleared her throat.

"How about you come back another time, I was just asking the forensics specialist about the latest case." She stepped toward officer Dougherty, shooing him with her hands.

He grumbled, but forced a smile and let go of Ed's shoulder, leaving shortly after she shooed him away. Pulling out a kerchief she handed it to Ed.

"I don't like contact like that either, now, I think the answer to your riddle might just be a greeting."

He took the kerchief hesitantly, wiping his shoulder and adjusting his glasses. A genuine smile on his face now.

"Correct! Did you know that some doctors say brighter colors make people happy?"

"No, I don't think I knew that. Oh! I have a bright green little cactus you can put in your office." Her eyes were wide and sparkly, and mismatched blue-brown.

She dug around in the cardboard box she set down on the chair and pulled out a little fake potted cactus, it was indeed very green and had a pink and yellow flower on top. It also had a face, a smiling face.

"Isn't it just the cutest? You can keep it." She handed it to Ed, careful not to touch him.

"You want me to keep this?"

"Yeah! You said bright colors cheer people up, right? So why not have something colorful to brighten up your office."

"I- How did you know I work in forensics?"

"They told me to stay away from a guy named Ed Nygma who worked in forensics because he liked breaking into the medical examiner's office, but you seem like a great guy." She continued to dig through the box. "I also don't mind if you use my office, just as long as you put everything back and clean it, of course."

His smile got wider, if possible.

"I...I never asked your name. I'm sorry."

"Rose, Rose Corvid." She giggled.

So, Ed used her office often. He was quite comfortable, and even helped her during autopsies. Always asking if she'd like help. He couldn't describe the feeling but he felt drawn to her. She was the one person in the precinct that enjoyed and answered his riddles, often leading him to feel all bubbly inside. Even if Harvey or Jim made an offhand comment about the riddles he greets them with, it didn't bother him. At least someone enjoyed the daily riddles.

"Hey, I'm grabbing takeout, do you want any?"

She'd poked her head into the room, immediately making the gray atmosphere light up when he looked up from his desk. That same familiar smile found itself on his face.

"How about that new Chinese place around the corner?"

"Anything special?"

"No, it just- "

"Can't have onions, got it!" She saluted to him with a laugh.

His heart fluttered in his chest. It had been doing that a lot lately. He's been feeling very warm lately as well. Looking back at the evidence files he was going over because of the new case Jim decided to take from a rookie.

"Well, well, well. Such a happy face for working in a shithole." Harvey snickered.

"Were you eavesdropping?"

"No, I came here to check on those evidence files."

"Oh, yes. Those." He clicked his tongue as he closed the folder.

"I don't doubt that smile is caused by that Rose lady, she is a might fine piece of ass."

"Detective Bullock."

"What? You know I'm right. It's always the happy ones that have a sadistic side." Harvey joked.,

"Stop talking about her like that!" Ed snapped.

"Oh- Well, I didn't think you had that in you."

"Please leave."

"Come on-"

"Leave, Detective Bullock."

Ed was pointing at the door, this steely look in his eyes.

Rose came back with quite a big takeout bag, entering just as Harvey was leaving. Ed sighed and rubbed his temples, smelling her sweet perfume he dropped the sour expression for a much happier one.

"I see that look on your face. Was Harvey being a jerk again?"

"No, no. It's fine." Ed tried to laugh it off.

She planted a hand on her hip and rose a brow.

"Are you sure?"

"It was nothing, he just needed those evidence files for the case he's working on." Ed was adjusting things on his desk, he was bothered.

"That's bullshit, and we both know that."

"It really is nothing, I promise you, Rose." There was so much adoration when he said her name. He was fidgeting with his glasses and staring at his desk.

"I won't push it, but if something did happen just know you can tell me."

"Why are you so nice? It would be easier if you just ignored my riddles, and me."

Her shoulders slumped and her eyes softened. Setting the takeout bag on the unused counter she grabbed the rolling stool that was sitting there and sat down across from him at the desk.

"Ed, your riddles every day make me happy. I'm glad I get to see you all the time because you're like the brightest person in here."

"What do you mean?" He blinked twice and leaned away.

"I mean, your smile lights up a room, and you have a real passion for autopsies even though no one really lets you touch the corpses post mortem." She gently took his hand that was tapping rhythmically on the desk and held it. "You make me enjoy going to work."

"Thank... Thank you so much. I... I feel that way about you too."

"I brighten your day?" She looked puzzled.

"Sometimes you're like a walking highlighter," He chuckled half heartedly. "Yes, I often look forward to work because of you. You're the only who answers my riddles, the only one who wants me around."

She frowned.

"I can't believe no one wants you around, you aren't creepy at all."

"It's okay, I can understand why sometimes."

"No, Ed. It's not okay." Rose squeezed his hand.

"You have pretty eyes." He blurted out without thinking.

She was caught off guard.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing. Forget I said that." He pulled his hand away.

"To be honest, I've always thought green eyes were the most gorgeous."

His eyes widened and he adjusted his glasses again, this time adjusting his collar too. Looking anywhere in the room but her he started tapping his hand again, but only his pointer finger.

"Did you make sure there aren't any onions?"

"Yes, I made sure there were no onions, but if there are I can pick them off."

"Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me."

"Yes, I do."

"No, no, anyone would do that for someone they care about."

"Miss Corvi- "

She leaned forward and kissed him quick on the lips.

"Now, food?"

#see what i did there #ed nygma #edward nyma #the riddler #gotham #gotham rogues #ed nygma x oc #edward nygma x oc #the riddler x oc #technically pre-riddler but still #i love this dork so much #he is lowkey me #i relate to him even though i kind of dislike the riddler a bit #ty battinson for my dislike of the riddler #dc comics #dc batman

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siiinfully · 9 days

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continued from this with @kingofthewebxxx

Oooh she shouldn't have said that, he wasn't going to kill her, she and her brother still had so much use but that didn't mean he couldn't punish her for her attitude, the only one who was allowed to make such comments with no repercussions was him, docking her pay would be the start of the game he had decided to pay, perhaps he would transfer what he had taken to her brother instead, that could always make things interesting. “If you want to use a chainsaw that badly then why don't you, I'll say it again. If you don't learn that you have to serve my every whim, then you won't last long in this organisation, I'm the best for a reason. Now it seems I need to take you down a few to mould you into what you were meant to be but that's ok, creating the perfect weapon can take time.”

“Where to start? Cannibals have always been of interest to me, did you ever get to explore your family's diet much? I guess not, well that all changes today! Not fair that you haven't gotten to try new things, first course, oh and don't move, or Tiger will make a very painful and permanent hole in your brother's head, my naughty Lynx.” His eyes lit up with crazy as an image appeared on the screen, a trained red dot following the movements of his Wildcat, her brother. Jim gave all of his operatives that he used regularly and had met in person a codename, usually after a feline, one of his favourite creatures. A charming young lady dressed in a black lab coat walked towards Jenna after two of Jim’s employees forced her into a chair, the seeming scientist attached electrodes to her temples, wrists and ankles, giving a nod of approval before leaving. Moriarty’s eyes had never left Jenna’s the whole process, stretching out his arms he held his hand out when a device with a sliding scale and two buttons on either side was handed to him.

Watching as a raw human liver was placed in front of her he watched her reaction carefully. “Now I know you aren't stupid. But I'll spell it out for you, this part is clear at least, you are going to eat it, each time you make a response I don't like or if I feel like it then you could receive a nasty little shock, not sure how much, depends on what vibe I'm getting. Failure to cooperate could mean your brother has a few holes in his spleen and whilst he could certainly survive, would you want to risk those who could wish him harm to discover his location, I think not. So eat up! Tell me what you think of the free meal I'm giving you and make sure you thank me, I might reward you.” His head tilted to the side as the words left his mouth, he already knew this was going to be fun.

+++

Ever since they lost their family, Jenna and Jedidiah knew that the backroads of Texas were no longer their home. The safety those isolated, dry winding roads offered was gone, not when the sheriffs of the surrounding towns made it their mission to patrol what the two Sawyers called theirs. And so they moved forward, even hopping onto a boat and finding their way to London and straight into Moriarty’s criminal network. His reputation had been largely unknown to the pair, but it became evident enough that he had power and influence even in the highest of offices.

But did that mean she was in awe of her employer?

Of course not.

Jenna viewed him as someone who had more resources than her and her brother, but under all that fancy talk and sharp suits was someone who could easily bleed. Someone who could die if one really put their mind to it or convinced the scores of hitmen and followers to turn against him. However, she also understood the importance of hierarchy: in their family, Grandpa had been the one everyone followed. In this ‘family’, Jim was Grandpa, and what he said went. Her sharp tongue had landed her and Jed in trouble, but she wasn’t going to start crying or begging. No, she was a fucking Sawyer: she was going to take whatever sadistic punishment he had in store.

The electrodes were new, but the addition of raw meat surprised her. She thought it would be a little more intense, given who he was, but she wasn’t about to turn down a fresh slab of human liver. Jenna stared blankly at him during his entire speech, and the only time she broke eye contact was when she made sure that her brother was doing okay. Well, okay given the situation, and then she met Jim’s gaze again.

“Thank you.” Short but straight to the point, and she lifted the fork and knife before she started cutting into her unexpected ‘snack’. Compared to the rest of the family, she didn’t eat much of their diet, so it wasn’t like she would greedily chomp everything down in seconds. She also liked to take her time and use actual eating utensils instead of shoving everything into her mouth with her bare hands. Jenna soon finished a quarter of the serving, nonplussed by the possibility of being zapped either before, during, or after it.

If anything, she was curious to see what it felt like, though of course, she wasn’t about to goad him any further by challenging him to press the buttons. Especially the one that would end up with Moran boring a few holes into her brother. It was mostly because of his safety that she even bothered with this whole charade, and she looked up once she was halfway through, to see if Jim had any other instructions for her to take note of.

#jenna sawyer ( thread )#kingofthewebxxx #cannibalism tw

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high-functioning-lokipath · 3 years

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Star Trek - Leonard "Bones" McCoy x reader - Southern Charm - Words: 3,556

A/N: While I did write this with TOS in mind, I do believe it is fairly AOS compliant as well. Enjoy!

"Lieutenant Commander Y/N L/N, Chief Medical Officer of the Starship Serenity."

"Welcome aboard the Enterprise, Doctor L/N. I'm Captain James T. Kirk. This is my first officer, Commander Spock and our CMO, Doctor McCoy. We're looking forward to having you as the first trainee in the Starship Exchange Training program."

"Pleasure to meet you all. And I'm looking forward to it as well," You replied, stepping off the transporter pad. You gave the Captain a handshake, the First Officer a Vulcan salute and then turned to the grumpy looking CMO.

"How old are you?" He demanded to know.

"Old enough," You assured him, crossing your arms. "Why do you ask?"

"Just don't see many youngsters like you with that rank," He trailed off, leaving the statement open ended.

"Well, I happen to be an outlier. Or haven't you heard of that, Doctor? Besides, I'm not that young," You replied, curtly. You didn't often become confrontational this quickly but questions on your age and suspicions on how you got your rank were a sore spot for you.

"Just because I have to train you doesn't mean I have to like it," McCoy grumbled.

"I never asked you to." You quickly grabbed your bag that was transported with you and walked to the doors. Just before you stepped out to the hallway, you turned back around. "Captain, Commander, have a good evening. I am looking forward to working with you two over the next few weeks. Don't worry, I know where my quarters are. Doctor, I will see you at 6."

As you unpacked your bag, you thought over what happened in the transporter room. You had really been looking forward to this training and you had heard many great things about the Doctor. Of course, you had also heard he was a bit of a grump, but you hadn't thought it was this bad! You decided to stay in your room for the rest of that evening, as it was already late when you arrived, and try for a fresh start in the morning.

"Are you out of your mind? I'm a doctor, not an assassin!"

"I was simply saying, Doctor McCoy, that Starfleet medical personnel are completely untrained in self defense techniques! We are trained to save lives, not take them. That I completely agree with. But we must also be trained how to defend and disable. Defend ourselves, disable our opponents. Otherwise we may become a hindrance to any away missions we get assigned on!"

"Look, even if you're right, and you're not, when would we have the time to train?" He yelled. "Have you ever been to medical school? Do you know how stressful that is?"

"Of course I went to med school! I happened to graduate top of my class! And I remember very clearly how stressful it is! But they need to make it work! Even another month would be enough for most!"

"Another month?" He screeched. He raked his fingers through his hair and rubbed his forehead. "Look, I have plenty of training to defend myself in the field. Let's just agree to disagree and get this over with."

"Alright, Doctor," You sighed. The first 2 weeks of training slowly passed with the only change in attitude being on your side. You'd gotten to disliking the Doctor as much as he disliked you. Every day you trained was near constant arguing and insulting.

Unbeknownst to you, Kirk had started taking bets from the senior crew members on when in the final week you two would get together. Whoever won would get 3 days vacation. The current bets on Kirk's paper were:

Uhura: As she steps on the transporter to leave Thursday

Scotty: Monday

Chekov: End of shift Tuesday

Sulu: Beginning of shift Wednesday

Spock: At precisely 07:35 in the evening Friday

Kirk looked oddly at Spock when he submitted his estimate. "Spock, you do realize she is scheduled to leave Thursday afternoon."

"Yes, Jim."

"So why-"

"I have my reasons."

"Logical, I'm sure."

"Quite. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm needed in engineering."

"Ok, Spock. But don't get your hopes high about any vacation!"

Monday: Scotty's Day

You got up early and headed down to the rec room to get breakfast. Usually you had breakfast in your room but this morning, oddly enough, Scotty had invited you to join him for breakfast. Once you entered the rec room you mentally groaned. Of course McCoy would be there!

"Good morning, Scotty," You greeted, walking up to his table which was unfortunately right next to Kirk, Spock, and McCoy's table.

"Aye! And an even lovelier morning with you here, lassie!" You blushed slightly, surprised at the engineer's comment.

"Oh please!" You scoffed. You were about to walk away to the replicators to get your food when Spock cleared his throat.

"I believe Mister Scott is correct, Doctor. Your hair and makeup accentuate your natural beauty quite well."

"Spock!" You, Kirk and McCoy gasped at the same time.

"Look here," You finally said, gathering your composure. "I appreciate a compliment here and there but really! I'm going to go get my breakfast and I don't want to hear one more peep out of any of you when I return! Understand?" They all nodded and stuck to their word, not another compliment for the rest of the day.

Tuesday - Chekov's Day

Your shift had gone fairly well. Training with Doctor McCoy was finally becoming almost bearable and there hadn't been any major disasters. "Doctor, was there anything else you needed me for today?" You asked, stepping into the open doorway of his office.

"No, you can go if you'd like," He sighed, not lifting his eyes from his PADD.

"Is something troubling you, Doctor?"

"Just a lot of paperwork, darlin'," He said absently. You blushed brightly and he quickly tried to correct himself. "I mean, Doctor. Sorry." He finally looked at you, face as red as yours. You nodded and attempted to make a hasty exit but you ran into a gold blur.

"Oh! Ezcuze me!" Chekov quickly said, helping you up. "I'm wery sorry! Are you hurt?"

"Only my pride, Pavel," You replied, dusting yourself off.

"What in blazes happened out here?" McCoy yelled, stomping out.

"Oh nothing, Doctor," You assured him.

"Well watch where you're going next time!" He ordered. With that he marched back to his office and closed the doors. You sighed and wished Chekov goodnight before leaving.

"No vacation," Chekov mumbled softly before leaving Medbay too.

Wednesday - Sulu's Day

You walked into Medbay to start your shift only to find Sulu already there. "What are you doing here so early?" You asked. "Your check-up isn't for another 45 minutes."

"I wanted to make sure I got here on time. You know how it is on the bridge sometimes," He chuckled. You nodded and chuckled lightly. You checked the schedule on the PADD and noticed the Ensign before him had cancelled.

"Well, Sulu, you just managed to get an early appointment. Step on up!" You had him sit on the nearest biobed and grabbed your Tricorder. As you started running over the usual check-up points, Dr. McCoy walked in.

"You're here early," He commented. Sulu nodded and you explained what happened. "Alright. Y/N, I'm going to leave you to it. I have a headache this morning and I think I'll just sit in my office for a bit with the lights down." You looked at him a little better, noticing how exhausted he looked. His hair was a mess and there were dark bags under his eyes. He may be a pain but he was still human and you felt for him.

"Did you need me to get you anything, Doctor?" You asked. He shook his head but groaned at the movement. "Just comm me if you need anything." He made a noise of agreement and you went on with Sulu's checkup.

Thursday - Uhura's Day

"Good morning, Y/N," Uhura greeted you in the turbolift on your way to Medbay.

"Good morning, Uhura," You replied abit sadly.

"You alright, sweetheart?"

"I'm going to miss you all. I love my ship and my crew, don't get me wrong, but," You trailed off, unsure of how to explain yourself.

"You don't feel like family there?" She filled in. You nodded slightly. "Oh honey, I understand. Don't feel bad, alright? Who knows! Maybe you'll get a transfer one day even!"

"That would be nice I guess," You admitted. The doors swooshed open and as you stepped out, Dr. McCoy walked by.

"Doctor L/N," He said, sounding somewhat frustrated. "I need you to gather all the anti-toxin hypos we have."

"Of course. Is everything alright?"

"Spock just told me we're going on a mission tomorrow. He should have told me at least 2 days ago. The new colony on Oliza 6 sent out a distress call about 1 week ago saying that something was wrong. They said some of the younger people were having strange reactions to some of the foods."

"That's odd. Isn't the food on a planet usually tested first?"

"Yes but apparently they forgot to test on the younger adults. Blasted regulations. Test one adult you've tested them all." At this point you had nodded a silent goodbye to Uhura and started walking with Doctor McCoy down the hall. "Let's see if we can't find out what's on that planet and run some tests of our own. Might save some time."

"Doctor?" You said, somewhat hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"I do have to go back to my ship this afternoon. I," you paused. McCoy had finally started to be nice with you and now you had to go. You didn't want to upset him again on your last day. "I'll help as much as I can on the tests of course, Doctor, but I-"

"No, no," He said with a sigh. "I didn't realize it was Thursday." He smiled slightly and put his hand on your shoulder. "If you tell anyone what I'm about to say, I'll have to kill you," He joked. "Your work has been excellent. Your skill set is beyond your years and please don't take that wrong. You've impressed me." You blushed at his praise. "Of course, I still don't agree with the extra combat training," He added. You rolled your eyes and he chuckled. "But I guess you're not so bad."

"Well thank you, Doctor. I, uh, I guess I'll get the hypos for you now."

"Oh, um, yes, thank you," he replied somewhat awkwardly. The rest of your shift went about the same. You and the Doctor awkwardly dancing around each other. Eventually, though, the time came for you to finish packing, and leave the Enterprise.

As you headed to the transporter room, Uhura came running up to you with a small package in her hands. "What's this?" You asked.

"Oh, just a little going away present that a few of us put together for you."

"That's really sweet of you. Thanks so-"

"Bridge to Lt. Uhura," The Captain's voice rang through her comm.

"Duty calls!" She exclaimed. "Keep in touch!"

"Will do!" You replied, heading off to the transporters. Once you got there though, you saw Scotty talking to the Captain through the comm. He seemed upset about something.

"But Captain! I-"

"Scotty, we need to help that colony. There's no time."

"Aye, Captain. Scott out," He sighed. "I cannae believe 'at."

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, lassie. I'm so sorry! The Captain just got an emergency message from Oliza 6. We're heading there straight away."

"So I'll be staying another night?"

"At least." Your brows furrowed in thought. While you did want to get back to your ship to start your transfer application, a few more days here was not all that bad.

"Ok," You replied. Scotty seemed surprised. "I'll just take this back to my room and then head to Medbay. They'll probably need me handy."

"Aye. I'll let the Captain and Doctor know." You nodded in reply and headed off. When you returned to Medbay, you could have sworn you saw a look of relief on McCoy's face.

"Doctor L/N," McCoy said. "I'm putting you in charge of Medbay for the time being." Your eyebrows raised in surprise. "Jim's put me on the landing party and you technically are the next ranking medical officer on this ship."

"Well, thank you, I guess," You said. "Have you made any progress on the tests?"

"I believe so," He pulled up some test results on his PADD and showed them to you. "The hobgoblin ended up helping me but he was actually of some use." He looked around furtively. "Don't tell him I said so though."

"I promise," you said seriously. You stared at each other for a moment before you both broke out into a fit of laughter.

"Really though, the fruits on Oliza 6 seem to be causing a buildup of adrenaline in their systems causing aggression, anxiety and heart problems."

"Hm, interesting."

"That's what the hobgoblin said," McCoy grunted. You chuckled and he finished explaining their plan to administer hypos to everyone. The comm suddenly whistled.

"Bridge to Dr. McCoy," Uhura said.

"Yes, Lieutenant?" He replied.

"The Captain is preparing to beam down now and would like you to meet him in the transporter room."

"Alright, I'm on my way." You followed the Doctor as he gathered a few last minute items from his office. When he grabbed his phaser from his desk you couldn't help yourself.

"Doctor, that phaser is last year's model. Didn't you get your new one?"

"Oh, must not've. I'll ask Scotty for one." He grabbed his communicator and flipped it open. "McCoy to Scott."

"Scott here. Whaddya need, Doctor?"

"L/N said my phaser is old. Got a new one for me?"

"Sure do, Doc. I'll have her all polished up for ya when ya get to the transporters. Just remember, this one's a wee bit more powerful than the last. She's got a bit of a kick!"

"Don't worry, Scotty, I'm sure I can handle it. McCoy out." You looked worriedly at him because, knowing his views on defense training and based on what he said, this new phaser would throw him for a loop.

"Doctor, perhaps you should just stay with your old pha-"

"Doctor L/N," He said stiffly. "I do not want to hear anything more about training. I am perfectly capable of defending myself. Please do not worry yourself. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a mission to attend to. Do you think you'll be able to handle Medbay while I'm gone?"

"Of course, Doctor McCoy," You snapped. You heard the Medbay doors swoosh closed and sighed, leaning on he's desk in his office. You closed the office doors and locked them, needing a moment to gather yourself. "Gah! That man is so annoying!" You yelled to yourself. "If he doesn't get himself killed on this mission-" you left your threat unfinished. "Oh! I could just kiss him," You seethed. "I mean, kick." You paused, mid-pace, and shook your head vigorously. Your brain had apparently taken a left turn without telling you. "Did I seriously just-and now I'm talking to myself. Ok, Y/N, get yourself together. You'll figure it out later." You finished your little pep talk and headed back out.

The first few hours were fine. One or two clumsy engineers with a few cuts and bruises. A sniffle here and a headache there. It was actually somewhat relaxing. You decided to be a little helpful and got some paperwork done for Dr. McCoy. As you sat in his office tapping away on your PADD, you found yourself lost in thought. You hoped he wouldn't be upset that you did some extra work for him. "That's not what I asked you to do, Doctor!" You mocked under your breath. Chuckling slightly you continued your quiet monologue, "Oh wouldn't he be upset if I ran a report on him. He definitely is overworked. He'd come in here, yelling and screaming in that adorable southern accent of his, and he would proba-" You interrupted yourself again. Staring off for a second, realizing what you just said. "Adorable? Good grief. I'm either unconscious or demented."

The rest of the shift went fairly well and you heard that the landing party was making good progress too. Finally you turned everything over to the night shift doctor and went to your quarters to get some rest before your shift began again in the morning. Your sleep that night was restless, though, and when your alarm went off you didn't think you had slept a wink.

Friday - Spock's Day

"Good morning, Doctor L/N," one of the nurses greeted you as you walked into Medbay.

"Good morning," You replied tiredly. "Anything on the schedule?" You asked as you got a cup of coffee from the replicator.

"No. Just a couple of vaccines that the nurses can take care of."

"Good. I'll be in the office if you need me then."

"Are you alright, Doctor?"

"Fine. Just couldn't sleep last night."

"Oh, I understand. I'm worried about Dr. McCoy too. As I understand, the reaction the youths are having is fairly viol-"

"I am not worried about the good doctor!" You yelled, angrily. "Just in case you didn't notice, he's not exactly my type. And even if he was, that is no concern of yours, nurse!"

"Permission to speak freely, Doctor?" She asked with a slight smirk.

"Of course," You replied, rubbing your forehead. "I'm not the dang Captain." She giggled lightly before replying.

"That's exactly what McCoy would say. No go get some rest. We'll hold down the fort, Doctor." With that she walked off to get a few things prepped for the day. As you walked into the office and sat down, you thought about her observation.

"Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit."

A few hours later, after a short nap and another cup of coffee, you were reorganizing the supply room when Scotty called through on the comm. "Doctor L/N! We're gonna need a team down here immediately! The captain and Dr. McCoy were injured and we're beaming them aboard right now!"

"Ok, Scotty, we'll be right there, how serious is it?" You replied. Chills had run up your spine when he said Dr. McCoy had been injured but you kept yourself focused.

"The Captain's not too bad. I think he said a broken arm. Doctor McCoy though. He's in pretty rough shape."

"Alright. L/N out," You signed off. You started to grab emergency supplies and sent the emergency team down to the transporter room. Just like Scotty said, McCoy was in critical condition by the time you saw him. He was completely unconscious, had multiple broken ribs, a broken right arm, a fractured left leg, and a concussion. After about 3 hours in surgery, he was finally patched up. You looked at the chronometer and saw it was about 3 in the afternoon. Deciding that you needed to talk to him as soon as he woke, you opted to sit guard on a chair next to his bed.

"Doctor L/N?" A nurse called out. You opened your eyes with a start. Looking at the chronometer again you realized another 4 hours had passed.

"Has he woken up?" The nurse nodded. "Well why didn't you wake me?" You whisper yelled, not wanting to wake him now.

"For the same reason you're whispering now. He didn't want to wake you." You shook your head and looked back at him sleeping on the biobed. "His vitals are good and he will likely make a full recovery in about a week."

"Oh no! This doctor is getting a prescription for some real R&R for at least a month. He's been far too overworked." You immediately grabbed the PADD with his chart information and put him on medical leave for a month. The nurse smiled at you and shook her head.

"You know, you're technically off duty now. You can head back to your quarters."

"I think I'll stay here a bit longer," You said slowly, a blush rising to your cheeks.

"I thought so," She nodded. You settled back down in the chair and got a bit more paperwork done on your PADD. Looking at the chronometer again you saw it just turned to 7:33pm. You heard a groan from the bed and saw the Doctor waking up.

"Well hello there, darlin'," He smirked.

"Hello, Dr. McCoy," You smiled.

"Oh for Pete's sake, would you please just call me Leonard!"

"I'll consider it," You grinned. You stared at him for a moment, realizing again just how scared you had been.

"You alright, Y/N?"

"I was just so scared, Leonard," You admitted. "I wasn't sure if I'd ever be able to tell you-" you stopped mid-sentence, nervous to continue.

"Tell me what?" You decided to chance it so you bent over and gave him a quick kiss. Standing up quickly, you looked away embarrassed. "Well, I'm not sure I understood. Can I hear that again?" He smirked. You smiled and leaned forward again for another kiss. You vaguely heard the doors open but neither you nor Leonard paid attention.

"So, any plans for your 3 days vacation, Spock?"

#star trek #bones x reader #leonard mccoy #leonard mccoy x reader #star trek tos #star trek aos

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7-wonders · 2 years

Text

Letters to Jim

This is for all three of you that like my BatB!Duncan fic. I love you.

If anybody in this godforsaken place were to ask, the notebook that you regularly write in is to collect evidence that you would give to the police the moment that your imprisonment ended. Of course, you know that this is a flimsy lie, and you're pretty sure that they know, too. It's not as if the police would believe someone who said that they were trapped by a mystical curse that made them unable to leave the grounds, along with the staff that were also cursed to be invisible and, though he hadn't said it directly, the owner of the house who had been turned into some half-beast. You'd rather not get involuntarily committed for that, so you know you'll remain silent once you do get out of here.

So no, you obviously aren't writing some sort of "live from captivity" tell-all. Instead, you've filled this notebook with letters to Jim. You're not sure why you've been writing him letters—after all, it's not as though you're able to mail them out. It could be that it's easier to write to a friend than it is to write to some faceless entity known as "diary". Or, it could just be that these letters give you hope that you'll get out of here and be able to give Jim the letters that you had been writing to him. You lean more towards the latter.

At first, the letters served as a tool to vent to somebody that wasn't under the employment of the beastly man that got you all trapped here. These letters were angry, filled with everything that you hated about the situation that you were in. If nobody was ever going to receive these letters, then it made no sense for you to hold back on anything you were writing about. You made your feelings very, very clear.

"Dear Jim, I hate it here."

"Jim, the fact that magic is real is surprisingly not making the whole imprisonment thing better."

"I'm literally counting the days, hours, minutes, and seconds until I can get out of here."

Somewhere along the line, the anger started to dissipate. You would still find yourself upset about certain aspects of your captivity, of course. But instead of a person to vent to about everything, Jim became a person to gossip with. You tell him about the funny things that your new friends do, or how you're still exploring the large manor and constantly finding new rooms. Lately, your letters increasingly talk about Duncan.

It wasn't something that you planned. In fact, you were determined at the beginning to not mention him at all. You wanted him to fade into obscurity the moment that you were able to leave. But as you've learned more about him and connected with him more, he's been a topic of conversation in your letters to Jim.

Today, you start your letter from the comfort of your bedroom, after you and Duncan realized that you were playing in the snow like a couple of children. Your cheeks were heated, though you tried to tell yourself that it was from the cold, and Duncan had awkwardly stood up and put distance between you. You both shuffled away from each other and went your separate ways, unsure of what to make of what had just happened. After drinking some tea to warm up and changing out of your wet clothes, you settled under a blanket to write.

Jim,

Life at the manor manages to get more and more odd, which didn't seem possible when I first decided to take your place. Although, I wouldn't necessarily say that it's a bad odd.

Today I wanted to go outside and leave some seed for the birds since it's the first snow of the year, and surprisingly enough, Duncan came outside to join me. He was actually pleasant to be around, and we had an impromptu snowball fight, if you can believe that. (I wouldn't blame you if you don't believe that, considering you saw him at his very worst)

There's something sweet about Duncan, and almost...kind, I suppose, though I don't know if he knows what that word means anymore. Sure, he's still mean and coarse and unrefined. But he also has flashes of something softer. He can be dear, and so heart-wrenchingly unsure. I wonder why I didn't see it there before?

I think he saw the way that I looked at him after I fell in the snow. How could I not, though? He was happy and laughing, and I thought I saw the man that he used to be, once upon a time. Our hands touched at one point when I tried to grab his wrist to keep him from throwing a snowball at me. He acted as though he were burned, like nobody's ever looked at him that way before or not shuddered when they touched his paw-like hands.

This feeling is new, and I can't deny that it's also a bit very alarming. Who'd have ever thought that this could be? True, that he's no Prince Charming. But there's something in him that I simply didn't see.

Part of me doesn't want to be having these feelings. Is it merely Stockholm Syndrome, the result of being trapped with my captor for almost two months now? But then, I've come to realize that he's trapped just as much as I am. Whatever it is that's happening between us, I can't deny that there's something there that wasn't there before.

I miss you, Jimmy. Stay strong for me, and I'll see you soon.

Sincerely,

#beauty and the beast #beauty and the beast au #duncan sheperd imagine #duncan shepherd imagines #duncan shepherd au #duncan shepherd x you #duncan shepherd imagine #duncan shepherd #hoc #house of cards

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natromanxoff · 3 years

Text

19 - The Dynamic Duo V Montreux

Hello folks. I was sitting around twiddling my thumbs and I thought I would give the old hard drive a clean up, so before I dump a load of rubbish I thought I'd better answer these before I throw everything in the recycle bin. Let's start with a lady from New Jersey who goes by the name of Dorothy who gave me a very interesting offer for the next time I'm in New York. If you're reading this Dorothy, could you send Jacky your email address so I can reply to you. I've just opened up a "secret" Hotmail account so I can send replies without pestering the lovely Mrs Smith all the time, and to test it I went to the guestbook and picked a few names at random. Maybe I should reply to the irate drummer, but if I do that he'll just reply to me and the girls in the office will miss out on laughing at him as well. Staying with the skin bashers for a mo, Ron Hansen in Madison is a drummer, and said he liked my jokes and reckons Mr Irate uses three sticks, two in his hands and one up his arse (his words not mine). Would I be correct in saying your a Zep fan Ron? Today's question is, "What do you get if you cross a drummer with a roadie?" The answer is a stupid roadie.

Moving on, last time around I mentioned a drink which we consumed in Brazil, and the charming Sonia and Dina informed me it was called Caipirinha, and a pleasant little tipple it was to. Somewhere in Australia there is a lady called Karen who is listening to the Offspring CD non-stop, so I'm gonna have to try and answer her question as she has such great musical tastes, even though she wants to know the..........(flashing lights, fireworks, drum roll) Hoover Salesman Story. ARGHHHH. Its actually a very short tale, and I think it's quiet boring but it seems to have grown in stature over the years, and as always I'm gonna drag it out and start from the first skiing expedition that I ventured on with RT.

Having checked my trendy little biog mag, I reckon the year is 1980, and the dynamic duo are in Montreux putting the finishing touches to Fun in Space and we have a few days off before a tour starts in Zurich when Rog says, "Let's go skiing." He had skied a few times before and was ok at it, but I had never put a pair of skis on in my life. I said, "Lets go, but you ski and I'll just get pissed." He then went on about what a buzz it is and how I would love it, etc. As we were touring soon our American crew had to fly out, so I called up Jim Devenney and told him to come over a couple of days earlier cause we were gonna ski. Jim is a great skier and was on the first flight available and I picked him up at Geneva airport ready for some fun. That night we hit the town and have too many drinks and Rog goes off to bed semi early, while Jim and myself sat out on the jetty of Duckingham Palace with a ghetto blaster, Derek and Clive tapes, and a vat of wine singing disgusting songs at full blast, which must have echoed over to France. Suddenly we hear a French voice screaming at us and we have no idea what he was saying so we carried on goofing around, and the next thing I hear is a huge splash as Devenney falls in.

Let me assure you that a drunk trying to get a drunk out of Lake Geneva is not an easy task, but we succeed and head back to DP and retire to our rooms. I'd just got into bed when I hear a crash and go to investigate, only to find JD had gone in the wrong room and was trying to get into a baby's cot, and getting him out of there was harder than getting him of the lake.

Next day Roger, Dave Richards, his wife Collette, Jim and myself set off to Zermatt, and on arrival we stock up on skis, passes and other skiing paraphernalia (big words now!) Dinner, drinks and off to bed. Next morning we're up and ready to go, and thinking I'll never ski again after this I refuse to waste money on a ski suit, so I wear jeans. My second wrong move, the first was agreeing to go. The hotel owner wouldn't let us leave the hotel without first drinking a couple of Sambuccas, not my idea of a good breakfast, eggs, bacon, tea, toast and Italian liqueurs, but who are we to refuse. Next I've got to try and walk in those godamn boots, and we eventually arrive at the top of the Matterhorn.

The OK skiers, RT and Dave set off on their own, Collette begins a very slow trip down while JD tells me he'll stay and teach me. On go the skis, and down I go, flat on my arse. Up I get and I'm off, for all of about 2ft before I'm down again. This is not any fun. After a couple more tumbles my great mate Jim said, "If you're gonna f*** around I'm going." And thats the last I saw of him all day. Thanks pal. I'm standing there watching people ski and think, "It can't be that hard. If you stand like this, lean like that, you can ski." So I stand and lean in the correct positions and I'm away, screeching down a mountain with only one very small problem, I have no idea how to turn or stop, so as I'm flying past Collette, and she reckons I looked very worried, I yelled for some advice and all she said was, "DIVE." Sound advice, so thats what I do, and by now I'm getting wet. I wait for her and then we set off together, the blind leading the blind, with me diving at the slightest bit of speed or bend in the piste. A million years later we eventually reach the bottom of this awful slope and it's finally over. Wrong. Theres a T-bar to get on so we wait in line till it's our turn. You're supposed to put the bar just under your bum and it drags you up, but I'm 6ft and Collettes about 5ft 5in, so the bar was either in the middle of her back or around my knees, and no one told me not to sit on the f***ing thing and we bounced around for a while until we fell off. I'm now getting really pissed off with all this, "Get me a helicopter," I demanded from Collete. She told me they don't just send them, you have to be hurt. I replied with, "I'll break my f***ing arm but I've gotta get off this mountain." Realising I'm not getting a copter I light a ciggie and ponder.

We agree to split up and go with someone our own height, so I ended up with a great German guy who was really helpful. Once on the T-bar I can see that it goes way up and I would have to ski back down to base camp, and in case you've forgotten, I can't ski, so I said that I was gonna bail out, and jumped off. I then head of in a straight line to the cable car, skis on the shoulder and wading through 3ft of snow in a pair of very heavy and very cold jeans. What seemed like hours of wading I make civilisation and head to the bar for a triple strength coffee and a triple scotch while everyone gawked at me cause I looked like I had a shower fully clothed. Yeah, I wanna do this again.

Dinner that night was great fun for the others cause they got to take the piss out of me. Their day will come. The rest of the nights activities shall remain sealed away, but a good time was had by one and all. The tour went smoothly and I try and put Zermatt behind me, except Collette, still to this day, takes great delight in telling everyone about it, and everytime she says it she makes me look more and more pathetic.

The next winter appears and I'm at home and the phone rings, "CT, wanna go skiing?" To which my reply was nothing like, "Oh I'd love to you fabulous little drummer boy." I can't believe he talked me into it again, but this time we were gonna do things correctly and go to Aviemore in Scotland and take lessons, this was the saving factor in his plan. So once again we pile into the Range Rover and aim north. We split the driving (for a change) and had a good journey up through the snow covered mountains till we get to the resort. A usual night was on the cards, dinner, drinks and bed, then up bright and early for some lessons and a good day on the slopes. This time we've both got the correct outfits so we head off to where our little group of idiot skiers are. We're all standing in a line, with Rog and me at the end, and each person gets to snow-plough a few feet. These clowns have less idea than my first try, and it's also incredibly cold and we've now got icicles hanging off our hair. It's our turn and we both look like olympic champions, but the only thing wrong with getting it right the first time is that the instructor then turns his attentions back to the start of the line. Here I am once again standing on the top of a mountain, freezing cold with two 'things' stuck on the end of a pair of stupid boots, and I inform His Royal Highness that the next trip away involves sand and sun, no excuses, end of argument. RT agreed that this wasn't much fun and thought my idea worth considering.

We finally heard the two magic words, "Lunch Break." We're gone in search of some good HOT food and a nice beaujolais, and we found both. We also found that the hotel bar had an amazing selection of whisky, and we had to try as many as possible. We're now semi pissed and decide that as we're warm we might as well go back to this lesson even though we are very late, and the instructor looked at us and said, "Where have you two been?" Rog came back with "Trying lots of your wonderful scotch's." He was fine with that answer and we carried on trying to learn something, and would you believe by the end of the day I could actually turn and stop.

Back to the hotel for a nap before dinner. Over a very nice meal and a couple of little drinkettes we agree that it's far to cold here and we'll clear off the next day, so into the bar we go with our earlier mission of trying all the scotch's. We were sitting at a table chatting away and cracking jokes with each other and end up talking to the couple on the next table, swapping skiing stories, needless to say mine were very short, and having a bit of a laugh, when the woman said, "What do you two do for a living?" God knows why, but I said; "We're Hoover salesmen." At first they didn't believe us but we both started going on about the difference between domestic and industrial cleaners, uprights, backpack types, ones you pull along the floor. We went on about the different wattage, suction power, the amount of pressure on Axminsters and Wilton carpets, even a couple of car expressions like overhead this and thats. What the hell do we know about vacuum cleaners? But boy are we good at this. After about 30 mins of utter bullshit the subject finally changed and they wished us all the best with our door to door salesmanship and off they went to bed. We then had to reassure each other what we actually did for a living, had some more drinks and tried to work out how we knew so much about cleaners as both of us have spent most of our lives trying to stay well away from them. We spent the drive back to London having a good laugh about the one day we spent in a Scottish ski resort.

Well that's it folks, the story of a small company, R & C Taylor,..... Hoover Salesmen. I did learn to ski quite well, and whilst in Gstadd doing the Shove it album Spike flew out cause he fancied learning to ski, and the fool asked me to teach him. I wasn't much help because everytime he fell over I burst out laughing cause I kept seeing myself in Zermatt, and Spike looked just as worried and stupid as I did.

Before I go I noticed that Jacky had to get her boiler fixed and said for me not to make a comment, but little things like that spark me off and I remembered that when we were recording in the Townhouse Studios I had a little, no a big affair with the studio chef. Every three months Virgin would do a magazine for all their staff, written by all the heads of various departments, airlines, studios, video, shops, films, etc. and they would say what was going on with their particular section. Alan Douglas, who was chief engineer of all Virgin studios wrote who was recording where, and he wrote, "Queen are in studio 4, and Crystal, their main man is stoking the kitchen boiler." I thought that was hilarious, but Jane went ballistic. That's it for now.

Loadsa luv Crystal (Carpet cleaner to the stars)

#oh i suppose i forgot to queue this!#queen #queen band #roger taylor #roger meddows taylor #spike edney #crystal taylor #crystal's tales

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flamehairedwritings · 3 years

Text

Blind Date/Set Up By Friends

Characters: Chief Jim Hopper x Female Reader

Words: 1.6k

Rating: M

A/N: Hello! Welcome to the third day of my 7 Days of Valentine’s Drabbles, the 2021 edition!

This story contains swearing and two idiots in love.

Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites; credit does not count.

—

Blind Date/Set Up By Friends

“No.”

The word comes out of your mouth before you can even attempt to stop it.

“Shit,” he says in reply.

The couple at the table next to you glance up before quickly looking away, not wanting to be caught and embarrassed on their special night. You don’t care at all, though, because you’ve been set up on a blind date with Jim fucking Hopper.

The most irritating man in the entire universe.

The exact same thoughts seem to be running through his mind because his jaw is moving and he’s staring at you. Stood there in a fucking beige (is that linen?) suit with a Hawaiian shirt on underneath, hair combed, beard trimmed. And he’s staring at you like you’re the anomaly here.

I’m gonna kill Jodie.

Raising your eyebrows, your hands lift.

“Right. Well. There’s obviously been a mistake here.”

“You think?” His eyebrows are also rising, hands going to his hips.

Even though you despise him, that irks you.

“Okay, so, you can just go, then.” You sit back down, hands returning to the menu you’d dropped on the table in your sudden standing.

“Me?”

You glance up at him, his tone and indignation surprising you. “Yeah. Bye.”

Your eyes drop back to the menu, looking at it but not exactly reading because he’s not moving.

“Uh, and why me?”

I’m dealing with a fucking child.

Lips parting, you look up at him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, because it is.

“Because I was here first?”

Hopper snorts, arching an eyebrow. “What, you gonna eat on your own?”

“Yeah.”

Yeah, I’m going to eat on my own on Valentine’s Day and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. Who even sets two people up on a date on Valentine’s Day?!

Before you can even think about looking at the menu again, Hopper scoffs.

“Well, I don’t want to go, you go.”

“No,” you shoot back incredulously, face twisting like you’ve tasted something sour.

He stares at you. And then he shrugs.

“Fine.”

Gripping the back of the chair opposite you, he pulls it back and sits in it.

“Oh my God,” you hiss, “Go and sit somewhere else.”

Adjusting his suit jacket, he then casts a hand around, gesturing at the restaurant. “Can’t you see it’s busy here? I’m not gonna find another seat.”

“Then go.”

“No.”

Then, he lifts up his menu and peruses it, a finger tapping against his lips. You just stare at him, feeling hot with frustration and irritation. Yes, you could just leave and buy something from the store on the way home and settle in for a cosy night, but you’d so been looking forward to a night out in a nice restaurant and some stimulating conversation from someone Jodie had said was perfect for you.

Perfect for you.

PERFECT FOR YOU.

That’s all you’d manage to get out of her about your date, apart from that it was on Valentine’s Day at Enzo’s and the employees there were aware of what kind of date it was.

You just can’t stop staring at him as he casually flicks through the menu while you quietly simmer with anger. This is why he gets under your skin so much; he’s just so stubborn. Exhaling a breath through your teeth, you force yourself to browse your own menu, even though you already know what you’re going to order. You’d arrived early, hating the idea of being flustered by trying to locate your date, and he’d... well, he’d arrived on time actually.

A pleasant surprise, but not enough to soothe your skin that prickles at the mere mention of him. Your friends and colleagues just laugh when the topic comes up.

Hop’? Hopper? The charming Chief of the town? Heart of gold underneath all that gruffness? Those big, strong arms and that flirty mouth? How could you not like him?

Well, you just... don’t. No reason. He’s not done anything to you, not said anything, you just... don’t. You can’t even really remember the first time you spoke to him when you moved here. Was it at a bar? The diner? You just remember the feeling when a friend had introduced you; prickly skin and a flipping stomach. His attitude towards you had left you feeling strange, too; you remember that he was blunt and eager to get away, barely looking you in the eye.

What an asshole.

... But, yeah, all right, maybe you had found him attractive, but then you’d seen him in bars picking up enthusiastically willing women left, right and centre and it had just... irked you, considerably.

Who does he think he is? I bet he thought whoever he was meeting tonight was going to be another one, that she’d be completely bowled over and was going to fall at his feet. Well, absolutely not, no thank you.

Every meeting you’ve had since, passing each other on the street, meeting each others gaze at the bar, having to converse in group conversations at parties, standing in line behind each other at the store, has been strained, with him either quickly looking away a little too late, so obviously not wanting to engage with you, or you just flat out ignoring him.

The waiter arrives with a smile which you return, somewhat forced, and if he’s noticed the more than slight tension at the table, he doesn’t let on at all. After he cheerfully takes your order, you then just have to sit and watch Hopper take his sweet time, one leg now balancing on the thick thigh of his other, menu in one large hand, talking to the waiter like he knows him, asking about what’s best and blah, blah, blah.

Crossing your arms, you stare at him, hoping the force of your gaze will somehow will him to hurry up. He glances at you once to just ask, “You want another bread basket?”

“Yes,” you grit out.

What kind of a question is that? Of course you do.

Snapping the menu shut, somehow the smooth motion of it just fuelling your irritation, he smiles at the waiter as he hands it back, and then the waiter leaves... and it’s just you two again.

You watch Hopper’s gaze travel the room, taking in all the laughing, chatting people, most if not all couples. He folds his own arms, the material of the suit stretching over his biceps, and you swiftly look away as his gaze reaches you.

“Guess Jodie’s a shit matchmaker, huh.”

Oh, God... You can’t just ignore him. Well, you can, but you imagine he’d just carry on talking anyway.

Taking a breath, which could be interpreted as exasperated, you nod. “Yeah. Didn’t even know you knew her.”

He shrugs. “We went to high school together.”

“Wow, she’s had to put up with you that long─”

“What is your problem with me?”

Your mouth remains open, your next word dying on your tongue as you stare at him. It stays open as you point at yourself, eyebrows shooting up, watching him just look at you, expressionless.

“Uh... What? You’re the one who has a problem with me.”

Now he frowns. “Excuse me?”

What.

Are you kidding me.

“Oh, don’t look so affronted, you always seem so irritated when I’m around and that you hope you don’t get stuck talking to me.”

He scoffs, but doesn’t say anything for a few moments, just makes half-laughing, half-astonished sounds. “... Me? I seem like that? You look at me like I’m the shit on your shoe!”

“If that’s true it’s only because of how you look at me.”

“And how do I look at you?” He says the words accusingly, challenging you, and it throws you for a moment because do his thoughts not influence his expressions?

It’s your turn to scoff as your eyebrows rise. “You... You look at me like...”

Nothing comes out of your mouth, every single encounter with him flashing through your mind, the filter of pre-conceived irritation and notions falling away.

Oh, no...

The times he’s looked away quickly after you’ve met his gaze... Not out of not wanting to engage but... not wanting to be caught looking. His curtness the few times you have spoken, not out of rudeness or wanting to get away, but because of awkwardness in your presence. The fact he’s sat down and has stayed.

Even the way he’d said ‘You think?’ minutes before... not said sarcastically, but stated. Asking you.

And he... he looks at you with tender eyes.

Oh my God...

Hopper shifts in his chair as he clears his throat, your thoughts and realisations most likely playing out across your features.

“... Uh...” Your mouth is still open, too, not knowing what to say.

I’ve been such an idiot.

He’s pushing his fork around on the table-cloth with his finger, waiting for whatever you’re going to say, probably expecting to be shot down or for you to laugh. Instead, you give him the truth.

“... I don’t have a problem with you, really... I just thought you had one with me.” Your voice comes out a lot quieter than you’d intended, but very much sheepish.

His head shakes as his jaw moves slightly, but there’s a light smile on his lips, and his gaze finally lifts to meet yours again; boldly and openly.

The tenderness is there.

“No. I don’t have a problem with you.”

“Okay.” The single word leaves you quietly, and something deep inside you relaxes.

“Do you want me to go?” he says, just as quiet as you had, and it’s like you’re the only two people in the room.

Licking your lips, you shake your head. “No. No, I’d... I’d like you stay. I think we should start this all over again.”

Hopper nods a few times, his smile lingering.

“Yeah, I think so, too.”

You find you’re smiling as well, your fingers lacing together in your lap.

“All right... What do you wanna talk about?”

—

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#jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x female reader #chief jim hopper x reader #jim hopper #stranger things fanfic #my writing #flamehairedwritings #again i hope this is all right lads #my dissociation is wild atm so who knows what i've written not me

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fantasy2739 · 4 years

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Hi! Fic request for Douxie and his parents? Is he orphan? Was he abandoned? What do you think? (It could be based in the 21 century as a memory or in the 12, your choice) I read the others, they’re very good!

Sorry this took a while, but I’ve written it. You got flashback! Thank you for reading the others I’m glad you like them.

I went with abandoned Douxie because I think it’s more. Angst.

Here it is, a bit long:

After everything that had happened, Douxie wasn’t allowed to just take Nari and fly away. Claire insisted that at the very least he rest and pack for the journey. Douxie had tried to argue but was shot down by everyone reminding him he had technically just died and could barely walk five feet. Ha agreed, only to stop their pestering. They went to the Lake house, Krel steering the ship, while Steve had to help Douxie walk. Jim took a deep breath before knocking. Strickler answered, looking ready to stab anything that moved. Douxie could understand that, given the recent alien invasion and even more recent ship falling from the sky. Strickler stares at the now re-fleshed Jim in shock.

“Barbara!” He called, before sweepings his gaze over the rest of them. “You’d better come in.” They stumbled into the house. A loud crash told Douxie that Krel had found somewhere to park. The blue boy came hurrying in.

“Sorry I’m still trying to get the hang of it.” He said sheepishly. Steve lowered Douxie onto the sofa, where he flopped uselessly, while Nari hopped around to sniff everything.

“Oh Jim.” Barbara said weakly, having just arrived at the foot of the stairs. She pulled Jim into a tight hug and Jim was hugging her back just as hard. She pulled away and stroked her son’s face. “It’s good to see you.”

“And no longer troll either.” Jim said. Barbara smiled but shook her head.

“I wouldn’t care what form you came in.” She said. “I’m just happy to see you.”

“I’ve been calling and texting.” Jim defended.

“It’s not the same.” Barbara said, finally seeming to notice everyone else. “Walt, call the other parents. You can tell us everything when they arrive. I’ll look you all over.” She greeted Toby and Claire with a hug and Blinky and Aaargh got smiles. “Who’s the worst?” Several eyes fell on Douxie, making him duck his head. Barbara day next to him after grabbing the first aid kit.

“Good to see you again, Dr. Lake.” Douxie greeted, flashing his most charming smile.

“Douxie right? From the cafe?” She asked and he nodded, trying not to jostle his injuries too much. She was frowning as she checked him over. “You’re badly injured.”

“He fell.” Tony answered the unasked question for him. Claire rolled her eyes.

“Yeah only a few thousand feet.”

“From that height you should be...” Barbara trailed off.

“Dead.” Douxie supplied. “Decided I didn’t like it so I came back. Wizard.” He added.

“A wizard? Like Merlin?” Barbara said coldly. Everyone cringed while Douxie tried not to sob.

“Sort of. I’m no where near as powerful.” Douxie managed.

“I dunno Teach. You manage okay.” Claire said with a warm smile. Archie cleared his throat.

“Douxie was Merlin’s apprentice, now he’s a master wizard in his own right.” Archie nuzzled Douxie. “Merlin died recently to protect us.” Barbara blinked at the talking cat but gripped Douxie’s hands.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” She said, letting them lap into silence.

When the other parents arrived, Nana, Claire’s parents and Coach Lawrence, the kids launched into the story. Douxie didn’t say much except for his fight with Bellroc and Skrael, which he tried to downplay. The adults were hugging their children, leaving Douxie feeling... lonely. He felt a pang of longing. They were all so close and he was just an intruder. No one noticed him slipping into the back garden. Everything hurt. Not just physically. The toll of losing his mentor, his keepsakes. Of dying. It was hitting him hard. He wanted so badly for someone to hold him. At 919 he shouldn’t need parental comfort but he did. And Merlin had been the closest thing to a parent he’d ever known. He wasn’t the best but he’d at least tried. He’d been a scrawny ten when his magic had shown up properly, leaving his parents to only look at him with distaste.

Douxie didn’t want to keep carrying his father’s cloths. He wanted to go and play.

“On the bench Hisirdoux.” His father told him absently, trying to find a dropped stitch. “There’s more by the door.”

“Can I go play after?” He asked.

“No. There’s more work to do.” Douxie tried not to pout. He wanted to go and explore. He’d felt something the last time he’d been out exploring. Something different. Exciting. Freeing. Not that he’d tell anyone. He wasn’t stupid, different was bad. Douxie scrunched up his nose at the next batch of cloth. He wished it would just fly to wherever. That would be quicker. He didn’t expect it to actually start floating, encased in a lovely sky blue.

“What the!” His father yelled, startled by the sudden floating cloths. “Stop that. You... you... stop that right now.” Douxie didn’t know how to. He didn’t understand why his father was so angry. The floating cloths weren’t hurting anyone. His mother came in.

“Is everything...” She trailed off at the sight of levitating clothing. “He... he has magic?” Douxie blinked at his mother, trying to see if she was angry. She didn’t seem angry. Just cold.

“What are we going to do with him?” His father asked, low and panicked. His mother seemed to mull it over, giving her son the coldest look he’d ever seen.

“He’ll have to go.” She said eventually. Douxie’s eyes widened.

“Mother?” He asked uncertainly.

“Don’t!” She snapped. “You... you have magic. You’re dangerous. You’ll put us in danger.”

“No I won’t!” Douxie exclaimed. “I won’t Mother.” She shook her head, muttering.

“Abomination of my flesh. Evil sullying my own blood. We’ll be killed for harbouring a mage.”

“Leave.” His father said. “Pack up and leave or we’ll call the guards.” At that Douxie squeaked. He knew what the guards were like. They got mad if you played in the wrong part of town. He’d be thrown in some dark dungeon. He ran to his room and grabbed what little he could fit in a bag. His mother shoved him out the back door.

“Don’t come back.” She warned, ignoring the tears in her only sons eyes. “You are no longer my child.”

“Douxie?” Jim called, waving a hand in front of his face. Douxie jumped back.

“Sorry mate. A million miles away.” He said, flopping onto a rock. “Something wrong?”

“I could ask you the same question.” Jim said, sitting next to him. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Douxie insisted. Jim raised an eyebrow and damn those blue eyes. “Just thinking about my parents.” Jim frowned before looking back to his house with dawning realisation.

“I’m sure they’d be proud of you.” He said. Douxie managed not to snort.

“Doubt it.” He muttered. Jim’s frown deepened and Douxie knew he’d have to explain. “When my magic turned up. Well you saw Camelot. People aren’t fond of it. So they sent me away.” Sent away sounded so much better than kicked out.

“They didn’t have magic?” Jim asked. He must have thought it was hereditary. “Maybe they just wanted you to be with someone who knew about magic.” Douxie didn’t reply, staring at the night sky intently.

“Go back inside Jim.” Douxie said, managing to sound his 900 years. “Your mother has missed you.” Jim stood up, giving Douxie a squeeze on the shoulder before heading in. Douxie felt a tear fall. He tried not to hate that there would be no more pats from Merlin. No hugs, pride, telling him how well he’d done. In the dark, Douxie wept.

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purplerose244 · 3 years

Text

Irrational - Chapter 5: I love you too much

HELLOOOOOOO!!! 🤩🤩

Here comes the fifth day of @spacecampweek with what is probably my favorite fic of the bunch! Little song-fic but not really situation in a normal world AU, where Krel is about to confess his feelings in a special way! 💕💕💕

Enjoy!! 😙

Summary: Prom is here at last, a night of entertainment, of happiness, to celebrate changes and the future. What better moment for Krel to finally express feelings that have been hidden for so long? Time to put those guitar lessons to some use...

Read it on the AO3

It was happening. No more holding back, no more thinking rationally about his chances without concluding a thing. Tonight, everything was going to change.

Prom had turned out to be an absolute oxymoron to walk into, between his deep appreciation for parties and his unsettledness at dealing with other people of different temperatures – or ‘cool’, as they liked to call themselves. Everyone was dancing like crazy, that was very good, and everyone was talking loud about nonsense, that was very not good. Adding to the unpleasantries was the music playing onto the stage, something pulsing yet in a hardly dynamic way. If this was another night, he would have liked to teach these people what real music sounded like and propose himself as a DJ, to properly say goodbye to Arcadia Oaks High. Then again, in another delson he would have not worn these kind of flashy clothes – he had lost the chance to call this a normal night the moment he had exited his house wearing a bow.

There was a lot of movement in the middle of the room, and in the middle some familiar faces. He could spot Jim’s questionable moves while Claire was laughing loudly with red cheeks, he could see Toby doing some robot moves while Darci danced along him, he managed to notice Aja spinning all over, between a super smiling Steve and an extremely radiant Eli.

It looked like they were all having fun, so much fun. Krel wasn’t… not yet.

“Hey Clint.”

He almost snorted at the sudden voice.

“Mary, I know you know my name at this point.”

“Whatever Kurt, whatcha up to?” The queen of the bees appeared in front of him, all sparkly in her pink shock dress. “Hank got all handsy, Dean is being shy, and that cute guy from Arcadia Oaks Academy that snuck in is being difficult. I’m up for some juice and it looks like you’re up to something.” And the queen of gossip too as well. She grinned at him, clearly playful. “Could it be you’ll stop being a wuss, at last? That would be nice!” He didn’t deny it. for a second. Big mistake, her eyes immediately widened, like she got struck by absolute knowledge. “Don’t tell me-”

He covered her mouth, realizing midway there that there was no point, the music was so loud it silenced everything. Despite that, he couldn’t bring her to say it. Not yet.

“Perhaps… maybe.”

Mary’s eyes turned into stars. She quickly wiped his hands off her.

“O-M-G, finally, I’ve been waiting for this for so long! Ha, I knew you were going to be the one to do it, Darci owes me five dollars! So does Logan! Pff, why was everyone betting on the space dork anyway… hey, what’s wrong?” She was perceptive. It happened after knowing each other for a couple of years. “Cheer up Kai.”

He laughed again. His chest felt like it was exploding, but in a good way. Seklos and Gaylen, for how long he had postponed what he was about to do, blaming time, work and consequences? It was terrifying in a way that was almost pleasant. Maybe. Perhaps.

“I am fine.” He swallowed, because of course the moment he had scanned the entire party, he had noticed it right away. Or rather, he had noticed a lack of him. “He… he is not here though.”

“He’s probably still bummed that he got into that accounting college his grumpy dad wants him to go but still doesn’t know about the engineering one.” Krel was holding his breath about that one too. Seamus had promised to be roommates in that case. Was it going to be weird if tonight wasn’t going to turn out the way he wanted? Was he going to be awkward around him? “Alright, I can smell burning thoughts, hashtag stopbeinganerd! You’re telling me you’re going to do it and I wanna know how, where and when, and if you try to chicken out now, I swear I’m gonna smash your precious guitar!” She sure knew how to get him riled up.

For the first time since he had come to this decision, Krel smiled, thinking of the backstage, the phases he had prepared into his head. He looked up, shaking his head.

“I believe that would be counterproductive for my plan.”

Mary’s mouth popped open, and if that wasn’t satisfying.

“No.”

“Kleb yes, I am not holding back.”

“That’s gonna be the bomb but you better don’t swoon anyone else, you dang charmer! I have all boy dates tonight and I wanna keep them focused on me only!” She giggled, patting his shoulder. “Just go for it, okay? You’re cool, even when you’re being a nerd.” It was as good of an encouragement as he could get right now. “Just wait until your dorky prince charming arri- Oh this is too perfect.” She was smirking, so much her makeup was scrunching up a little.

Krel didn’t have to turn around to know. He did it anyway.

What a view. This prince really wasn’t above physical appearance as he had first thought when he had arrived in Arcadia, powered by his absolute intellect, rationality, and general annoyance towards social interactions with amoebas. It had taken him a while, a whole while, to accept that even someone like him could get this soft inside.

Give then right time, and the right person.

Seamus was radiant, with the black jacket and the blue tie, with the polished shoes and the pulled back hair. From the relaxed eyes the discussion with his dad must had ended without a punishment, and he was actually smiling. Everything, he was so absolutely everything it made Krel choke up.

Mary was arching an eyebrow, although she most likely know what was going on. The prince swallowed, almost choking again, trying to keep his composure as usual.

Failing.

“… and… and you are absolutely sure…?”

“What in the world, Ken, yes! Yes he is completely head over heels for you, yes if you confess you bet your perfect grades he’s gonna reciprocate, yes the moment he will hear what you’ve prepared for him he might as well take a ring out of his pocket and propose in the middle of the dance room!” He grabbed his shoulders, shaking him a little. “You two are the absolute worst! C-bomb has actual guts to ask Jimmy Jam out, Darci and her Tobypie went for it naturally, even Steve is an idiot sometimes but not at dating and Aj and Eli practically gravitate around him! But you!!” She grabbed his collar, her stellar eyes turning into black holes. “You two are pining messes that I’m absolutely done with! So, I swear, Krel Tarron, if you don’t get on that stage and finally confess, you won’t have to make plans for college because this will be your last dance. Ever.” She could had stopped the threat at his actual name. That alone would have done it. Mary gave him the ‘I’m watching you gesture’, before backing down into the crowd without getting her eyes off.

Krel swallowed, nodded, watching her disappear into the party. Despite the dread of being murdered in cold blood being quite intense and even impressive, it was quickly washed away, as soon as Seamus looked at his direction with those blue eyes of him. There it was, that urge, that need to impress him somehow. It was their thing, the fulcrum of their rivalry that hadn’t stopped, even after years. The need to make the other break their mask of pride and turn it into amazement.

Bold enough, the prince grinned, winking at him. The way the blonde gaped warmed his heart. Was that pink on his cheeks? The lights were too strong and colorful, it was hard to tell.

Was it important? Not really. It was now or never.

Making his way towards the stage was a challenge itself, luckily his dancing skills were not to be ignored and swirling around these random kids was pretty easy and entertaining. The band was playing a pretty energetic movement, there was a keyboard player going absolutely nuts and a drummer doing their best. There was definitely something that could had been done to improve the whole performance – perhaps a few remixes on a DJ board, just saying –, but they were really into it. It almost felt bad going up there and show his own abilities.

Then again, Krel didn’t care.

He had a mission. With that determination in mind he immediately went behind the curtains of the stage, finding familiar locks of blue hair monitoring the situation. Having Douxie as the responsible one was still unusual, even though the ripped off pants and the numerous studs all over his suit were more likely. It probably wasn’t enough for him, he was tapping his foot over and over.

Krel cleared his voice, the older one turned, turning the frown into a smile.

“Krel, how’re you liking the show?” He snorted.

“Fine…” He really couldn’t help himself, it was too easy. “Would be better with some metal rock in it.” The smile was gone. Krel snorted again.

“Really, you’re going to put salt on it like that? Zoe already gives me a hard time because I didn’t get the Ash Dispersal Pattern to play here, don’t you get in the way too!” He turned to the band with a frown, shaking it. “‘Your music might not be a good example for the students’, fuzzbuckets, how old do you think these kids are?? Besides, how is techno a better alternative? Those moppets, I swear…” He muttered something under his breath, a curse most likely, then he sighed. “Alright, I’m fine. Extremely salty, but nothing a drink can solve later. I’m guessing you’re here to ask me something?” Perceptive. All of his friends had to be with him.

“Something like that, yeah…” He breathed in and breathed out, he was absolutely going for it but it didn’t make any of this easier for him. “Alright, I need a favor?”

Douxie smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh yeah? You need a favor from this random guy who got nominated supervisor as cold comfort for not having his band play tonight? Little old me?” He snickered, shaking his head. “Should have thought before you came here to mock, shouldn’t ya?”

“Hisirdoux…”

“Nope, can’t let this one go, I’m out of patience tonight and I need to get at least one gratification. How about you apologize to me? I’ll even help, start with ‘You are the best guitarist I’ve ever known’ and… whoa, wait, what are you doing?” Was it a bluff? Krel was bowing already, but perhaps his brain was messed up tonight. “Dude, how are you actually doing it? What is this favor all about?” Oh. Right. He was the most prideful person on the planet. He had almost forgot.

Krel straightened up, shrugging a little. From the tone of the current song, it seemed that this band was almost done. He peaked from behind the curtain. Seamus was talking with Steve, giggling a little. The prince couldn’t help clenching his hand around the shirt over his chest. Ah, he wanted this, he wanted all of this.

He felt a familiar wave of warm. He turned back to the guitarist, and Douxie was gaping, blinking several times. It was probably clear.

“I want to make an exhibition.” His honey eyes widened.

“… yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“… alright then.” Douxie smiled, pointing at the backstage with his head. “Prepare yourself Lover Boy, I’m announcing you right after this.” If it wasn’t to preserve what was left of his pride, Krel would have hugged him. “Is it DJ Kleb time?”

Krel moved a few steps towards the back. He stopped.

“No,” He turned to the guitarist, smirking. “It is Krel time.”

***

“Alright, give it up for ‘The Raise of the Titans’! Amazing performance you guys, can’t wait to properly see you on Wednesday!” Douxie always looked confident on stage, he was born to have the attention of a public. It was something he and Krel had in common. Right now though, there was only one look the prince wanted all for himself. “Hope you’re having a blast tonight! How’s prom going?” A cheer followed. “That’s great, because we have a special exhibition right now. A special song, for a special someone! Give it up for Krel Tarron!”

The wood under his feet made a sound after every step, it was drowned by the voiced in the crowd. It made him smile thinking how many people were going to be surprised by his presence, his appearance, and especially him appearing with a guitar instead of his beloved keyboard. There was a single stool in the middle of the place, with a microphone already adjusted for his high. He thought that really needed to thank Douxie after this, for everything, as he sat down with the instrument on his lap. He had accorded it while he was in the backstage, but out of habit he did it again, the sound reverberating into his mind. It was like a reality check, a call to the place, as he finally looked up to the public.

Aja looked close to crying, absolutely overjoyed. Mary was smirking so much her cheek looked like it was being pulled. Steve looked absolutely astonished. Toby was grinning impossibly wide. Eli had his glasses shining and a bit smile. Jim had amazed eyes over him. Claire looked ecstatic. Darci was giving him a thumbs up. Everyone was there, everyone.

And then there was him. Him, adorably confused and starstruck.

Krel grinned. I hope you are ready for this, you math blonde.

“This song is for a dear person to me. I have never been able to express my feelings properly before. I have never been particularly good at.” He let another note fill his silence, it made him smile again. “But I will not shy away from it, not anymore. I went through everything with you, high school, my problems, your problems, math and space and everything between,” There was no doubt, not anymore. “I want to go beyond now.”

His mind was peaceful, his body was burning. It felt like he had never been more alive before. His fingers knew what to do, that song was a part of him. He just took a deep breath, and let the music take over.

I love you too much

To leave without you loving me back

I love you too much

Heaven’s my witness and this is a fact

I know I belong, when I sing this song

There’s love above love and it’s ours

‘cause I love you too much

It used to be just him, his mind, and his sister. Them against the world, with a mother that wanted her to be proper, with a father that wanted him not to be him. Everything had turned out so badly at first without them, and so not badly after, to the point he had managed to make an actual life away from Cantaloupia. Then, the escape had become home. Then, it he had become the place where he had met the only guy that was ever going to make him feel.

It used to be just him, his mind, and his sister. Now it was him and his sister, friends and family, a home and the world, and so many feelings in between. This was the right place, this was the right time, this was the right guy.

It used to be just him, his mind, and his sister. Now he could hardly imagine himself without the blonde in the picture, the one that could cloud his mind and fill his heart.

I live for your touch

I whisper your name night after night

I love you too much

There’s only one feeling and I know it’s right

I know I belong, when I sing this song

There’s love above love and it’s ours

‘cause I love you too much

The two of them weren’t the easiest people to deal with, their lives weren’t the easiest lives to deal with. It had been because of a cruel game of destiny or a lucky shot from faith that they had found each other, Krel at Seamus’ door whenever he felt like he didn’t matter, and Seamus at Krel’s whenever he felt like exploding? Was it bad that in their worst some of their sweetest moments together were born? Was it bad that overwise they might had not become this much of friends?

They were living in a world that was cruel and unforgiving, with people even less likely to welcome them. Krel liked to think that by knowing each other, they had managed to overcome that obstacle, and meet also the people that were fine. That were okay.

They were okay. He was okay.

He had never forgotten that one moment of them, not once.

Heaven knows your name I’ve been praying

To have you come here by my side

Without you a part of me is missing

Just to make you my own, I will fight

The song was a tragically familiar one. During the worst of his pining, when he thought he was never going to be good enough for him, when he thought that he didn’t deserve to feel something this pure and breathtaking, this had always been the song. Shannon had taught him the first notes after she had gifted him the guitar after a curious sequence of events, and then Douxie had taken over teaching him all he had needed to know. It was all so familiar now he hardly had to think about how to move, where to put his fingers, if it was too strong or just okay. It was cheesy in a way he never thought he could possibly be, with feelings he never thought he could have.

Aja had always listened from her room, he knew she had even though she had never said it, because before going to sleep the same delson she had always come to hug him. Mary had always told him that playing a love song to cure his – stupid – pained heart seemed a little counterproductive. Maybe she was right. But even if everything was to end tonight, he didn’t care.

He liked love. He loved love. He loved Seamus.

I know I belong

When I sing this song

There’s love above love and it’s ours

‘cause I love you too much

Caught by the sudden burst into his chest Krel stood up, almost making his stool fall down. He didn’t care. Right there the crowd’s cheering came to his ears, and despite how much he wanted to scan the place and look for that familiar strawberry blonde mane in between, he forced himself not to. Not yet, not until he said everything, not until he was sure he had delivered everything he had inside. He shushed his mind and let the rest of his body sing.

I love you too much!

I love you too much

Heaven’s my witness and this is a fact

You live in my soul, your heart is my goal

There’s love above love and it’s mine, ‘cause I love you

There’s love above love and it’s yours, ‘cause I love you

There’s love above love and it’s ours, if you love me…

… as much

When the last note left his instrument, an urge to cry mixed to an absolute pride took over. He did it, he actually did it. In his mind the song was still echoing, beautifully in the open as it was always supposed to be played. He was drained and so, so happy.

Then, as his head finally allowed in something other than exhaustion, it finally hit him the amount of people that was watching, and how crazy there were going with that applause. It was reverberating all over, he was surprised he noticed it only now. Steve was holding onto Eli and Aja, every single one of them looked close to tears. Mary was shouting something to one of her current dates, pointing at the stage then back at her, probably something like “I know him, he’s my friend, he’s cool because I’m cool, good old Kevin”. Toby was jumping up and down, with Darci laughing and applauding. Jim and Claire were holding onto each other, clapping with fervor. It was good, everything was so good right now.

Finally, Krel allowed himself to look.

Right then, his hear broke.

He wasn’t there. Seamus wasn’t there anymore. No blue tie around, no lock of blonde hair, no red freckles in sight. There was no way this prince couldn’t find him, so…

He left. He didn’t stay for him. He didn’t.

“How about that, huh?? Krel Tarron, everyone!!” Suddenly Douxie was by his side, Krel didn’t look at him. It hurt. He thought it wasn’t going to matter, but it hurt. “He will be all over you for autographs and junk later, let him rest for a moment, and welcome the next exhibition of the night!” His arm was onto his shoulders. Krel didn’t move. He didn’t want to. Then he got a squeeze, and he looked up out of pure instinct. Douxie was still smirking, like his heart hadn’t just gotten smashed against the solid ground of the ballroom. He pointed to the exist and Krel, sighing, obeyed.

He crossed the next couple of performers, who patted his back telling him how good he had been. It didn’t feel like a proud moment anymore. It felt like a waste. The guitar was hanging onto him by the lace, luckily, he would have forgotten it on the stage overwise. Krel sighed, putting the instrument down as soon as he was behind the curtains. He could deal with this.

He didn’t want to, but he could. He just needed some time to-

His hold was callous and warm. The prince knew it so well he almost didn’t have to turn. He did. Seamus had his entire face flushed. He looked outstanding.

“Come with me.” His voice was low, almost fearful, and Krel could do nothing other than follow his lead. He was dragged along as they were staying as far away from the crowd as possible, going for the exit. If anyone had noticed them, Krel was sure Steve or Mary would have taken care of them. As soon as they were out of the room, it was silence. The school looked almost dormant like this, without lights around, the abandoned lockers circling the corridors.

It was going to be one of the last times, in this special place.

There was little time for that kind of nostalgia, as they didn’t walk for long anyway. Seamus seemed in a hurry, he was moving forward without a single word. It almost made the prince fear that he had gone too far and had made him mad. Some more uncharacteristic apologies brushed his lips, at least as a precaution, no matter how weird it was going to be.

They died into his throat as soon as he was pressed against the wall. The echo of the music was gone. There were only those impossible blue eyes getting closer and closer and-

Krel would have laughed. He would have laughed in any other occasion, because this guy was rough and prideful and used to be really bad at dealing with his anger issues. Yet he kissed with the outmost gentleness, like he was genuinely afraid of breaking him, like he was terrified that at any point something was going to wake them up from this dream. Krel wanted to hold onto this dream. He held onto him, hands reaching for his shoulders, then up into his hair. They were not fluffy at all. Again, he would have laughed if he wasn’t this overwhelmed by the fact that this was happening, that Seamus was kissing him and it was happening. The hold onto his mane must had woken up the blonde, as he moved forward with urge, breathing in and taking more.

It was marvelous. It was uncertain and clumsy and they were both really inexperienced at this, and it was marvelous. Slowly the timing was getting clearer for the both of them, because despite pride and their social skills they were instead really good at learning and understanding. The rhythm drowned them both, and it almost made Krel forget he had lungs. It got him there, the urge for air, and he let out almost a strangled noise when he got out of one last kiss.

Seamus was panting just as hard, if not harder, his pupils blown. Krel had never seen him like this, it was a whole new side. He wanted to know it. He really wanted this.

“Sea-”

“Shut it.” Another kiss that made him hum, it was sweeter than before. He almost forgot the words. When he tried to talk again Seamus promptly kissed him again. He completely forgot the words. “You said more than enough, now it’s my turn.” The blonde was smiling of that beautiful smile again. “I’m gonna make every single word count.” His hand went over his hair, caressing his brown locks like they were precious treasures to keep. The urge to cry came back.

Along with another desire, that made Krel come back to his senses and smirk.

Once again, rivalry.

“Aren’t you an overachiever?” Seamus hummed questioning, brushing their noses together. It was too good, the prince giggled. “There are exactly 212 words into my song.” It was too perfect. This wasn’t an out of the world experience, this was the natural consequence of their relationship. Seamus was holding him, and he really didn’t want to be anywhere else.

The blonde seemed taken back by his words, for almost a full second, only to laugh. He brought him even closer, breathing against his lips.

The world disappeared. Prom could wait.

“Better start counting then.” He lunged forward, a quick press closer to a caress. “One,” Another one, deeper but still quick, that made Krel naturally lean back. “Two…” This time it was proper, making him decide that he didn’t really need his mind right now. There was no issue, no invention in standby, no math problem to solve. He could allow himself this. “Three.” He could take every single part of him, as a reward in a way, as a present even more. Without a single remorse Krel laced his arms around his neck, deepening every following kiss.

They stopped counting after nine.

#space camp #space camp week #toa space camp #kreamus #krel x seamus #krel tarron #seamus johnson #toa #tales of arcadia #toa 3below #3below #toa fic #toa fanfiction #fanfiction #toa kreamus

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mysteriesmuse · 4 years

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New Event Added to Calendar- "Just tell me your schedule, dammit!"

Douxie x Reader: One shot

Title: New Event Added to Calendar

A/N: This isn't the best work or plot idea, but I still think it was fun to work on and it turned out pretty well. Enjoy :)

Ash Dispersal Pattern was packing up, the various personal amps already off and unplugged.

“Hey, we’ll see you next week Douxie!”

“Yeah goodbye Douxie!”

The band members chirped walking out the front door arms clad in gear.

Working together in silent tandem you and Douxie went about putting everything away.

“I’ve got the cords wrapped,”

You replied extending the wrapped chords in your hand out.

Wordlessly Douxie’s hand brushed against yours and took the cables. The partnership and teamwork was seamless as neither of you had even looked up from what you were doing.

In a few moments Douxie nodded towards you.

Shuffling over to the corner of the room you began shoving with full force of your body. Arms extended all the way as you began putting the coffee table back into its place in the center of the room.

Douxie had hosted the practice this week since the head singer was sick with a cold.

Was it merlinifilus or another case of Jim Lake disease? Honestly, you couldn’t even remember.

Once Douxies apartment was back into order you grinned walking over to pick up your own things.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Douxie said looking up from his placing of couch cushions. His hands paused as he listened to what you were saying.

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask you something but I’ve been a little nervous to ask...” your fingers found themselves fiddling with the end of a piece of hair.

“Oh, is it a date?”

At that your head snapped up as your fingers paused. Waving your arms across you body you chuckled, “No, no.”

You continued, “I’m not sure if that answer is a disappointment or a relief. Although I assume the later,” you added mumbling.

Douxie shook his head slightly resisting the urge to laugh at your little ramble.

In truth he’d been wanting to ask you out, but you only seemed to laugh at anyone’s romantic attempts. While rearranging the cushion in his hand Douxie thought about something Jim had told him over lunch,

“Man, I don’t get it you’re, like- a total chick magnet!”

Douxie groaned, “I can be pretty charming, you know?” running his hands down his face he sighed, “I don’t think it helps that these other guys flirt with her often as well.”

Jim nodded dejectedly before sinking into the booth chair and slurping his soda.

“Claire will tell you I was really, really bad at getting her attention,” Jim wheezed clutching his chest at the memory, “but you’re really smart. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“Uh-hello?”

You’d been waving your hand in front of Douxie face to get him to snap back into focus.

“Oh, you were saying?” Douxie smiled shaking his head to clear his thoughts.

“Well, you know how I’m interested in music, as my major?”

Douxie nodded, he’d certainly heard you meantion it a few times.

“You’re really musical and I’ve got to prepare this solo piece and oh boy,” you gulped plopping yourself onto the edge of the couch.

You looked down at your socks as they thumped against the shaggy carpeted floor. Soon there was a weight shifting on the couch beside you. With the fear in your throat you swallowed and looked up into Douxie’s eyes.

“You’ve never heard me play my main instrument before and I was really hoping that you’d maybe listen to me play through my solo piece. You probably can’t tell it by looking at me, but I kinda have stage fright.”

Slowly Douxie shook his head, “No, I really couldn’t tell. You perform so well!,” he exclaimed in disbelief.

At that you giggled, “Thanks, but it’s always easier being the bass in the very back,” you shuddered, brushing shoulders with Douxie, “solo repertoire is different.”

Placing a hand on your shoulder Douxie nodded, “Of course we can do that.”

“Really? Oh thank you!” You exclaimed while barreling into Douxies chest for a hug. Whilst you held a tight grip around Douxies shoulders he hugged back.

Nose twitching as your hair tickled it he gave a tight squeeze to your midsection as you drew back.

"Oh, I’ve got to go!” Glancing up at the familiar, yet odd kitschy cat clock hanging over the fake mantle place in Douxie’s apartment.

With a light snort you got up, you couldn’t imagine why a guy like him would have such an old clock laying around.

In a swift motion you began picking up your things the cats swishing tail alerting you to the fact that you’d be late for an ensemble rehearsal.

Pausing at the door which Douxie held open you waved the phone in your hand, “I’ll text you so we can make plans.”

Douxie rolled his eyes playfully as you were already down the hall and brought his hand up to cup around his mouth.

“Sounds good!”

You were already in the elevator door as it closed. In an over exaggerated yell you called right before the doors closed, “Don’t forget to tell me your schedule!”

“It was one-“ Douxie paused realizing he was yelling out into the empty hallway, “it was one time!” He yelled delightfully exasperated with ears burning as he shut the door.

—————

“Thank you so much for doing this for me,” you exclaimed with a sweeping gesture as you hunched over your instrument case putting it away.

Douxie uncrossed his legs and rose from his place lounging on the couch. Grabbing the stand and putting it away in the laundry closet once again.

“It was really no problem,” he called.

He heard you hum followed by the zipper and came back to be standing with you and instrument case on your back face to face.

Mischievously you smirked, “Now about that schedule...”

Douxie groaned in protest at you making a grabbing motion with your arm.

You waited arms crossed as you leaned in close over Douxies shoulder. A smile on his face as he pulled up his calendar app to reveal his shift schedule.

Scanning over the screen you hummed searching for a certain empty spot. A mental calendar of your own schedule behind your eyelids.

“Aha!” Reaching out you snatched Douxie’s phone out of his hands.

Shifting around slowly you began typing rapidly filling in this slot of free time in his schedule.

“Y/N,” Douxie gasped reaching around to be met with your gig bag, “Hey, ugh.” That was a mouthful of cotton fabric.

“Almost,” you struggled against Douxie’s attempts.

“Blemy! Stop acting cheeky!” Douxie hollered glee in his voice as he struggled trying to get around you.

Clearly this swift evasion tactic of turning ever so slightly when he got close was enough to keep the phone in your hands.

“And! And I’m done,” you laughed holding the phone out as a peace offering.

Douxie shook his head and began sticking his tongue out at you while he opened his phone to check what you did.

His tongue quickly went back into his now dry mouth and clicked unintelligently against his palette.

New Event Added to Calendar: Dinner at Jerry’s with Y/N L/N 6:00pm-8:00pm.

Comment: Don’t be late! :)

“This time I’m asking you about a date,” you called backing out of the door with a wink.

Words tumbling Douxie ran to the door seeing you already out in the hallway.

“You could have asked!”

“Didn’t know you were seriously interested til some sophomore told me!” You hollered back grinning.

Furrowing his eyebrows Douxie cursed in realization, “Claire, Jim, this is not what I meant!”

Immediately his phone dinged and he looked down at it seeing a message from Claire.

‘Is teach going on a date now?!’

‘I am never going to speak about my love life in our sorcery lessons again...’

The typing dots flashed across his screen.

‘You’re welcome. ;) I expect to hear all the details at our next class’

Douxie sighed pinching the bridge of his nose he was 919 years old and was being set up by a 15 year old. Another ding.

‘Have fun! But not too much fun you hear!’

“Dammit...” Douxie groaned. Apparently it could get worse, but maybe he wasn’t so mad after all.

#Hisirdoux Casperan #Toa #Douxie x Reader

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7-wonders · 3 years

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Here's Where She Meets Prince Charming (but she won't discover that it's him 'til Chapter 3)

Summary: Thunderstorms do not conjure good memories for Duncan. He finds a kindred spirit in you.

Well, two people sent me asks saying that they liked the Beauty and the Beast AU, and as I am a whore for validation, I wrote an idea I had a while back. Thanks, friends!

Thunderstorms are not something that Duncan Shepherd is very fond of. While many children have a fear of storms, Duncan was not one of those children. He loved to hear the tremendous crash of thunder, counting the seconds between that and the crackle of lightning across the sky to see how many miles away the storm was. For Duncan, storms meant his mother would read him stories until he fell asleep, faking that he was frightened just so she would spend time with him. As a child, Duncan actually enjoyed storms.

But that was then, and this is now.

Now, thunderstorms conjure memories of the night where his life went to hell. When the winds begin to rage and the house shakes with the force of thunder, when rain demands to be heard and lightning lights up the night, Duncan flinches with the worry that she might be waiting on the other side of the door. After all, the witch who cursed Duncan and his entire household darkened his life on a dark and stormy night. Maybe the forced transformation into a beastly creature, being trapped on the grounds of the secluded manor with a now-invisible staff, and the reminder that he will die unless he manages to fall in love with somebody, and have that somebody fall in love with him wasn’t enough for her.

Staying in one spot is making him nervous, and he wants to make sure that, on the off-chance the Enchantress does decide to come back for him, she can’t catch him by surprise. Duncan begins to walk up and down each of the halls of the manor, checking doors and windows and only slightly flinching at a particularly loud boom of thunder. It’s worth it though, for the peace of mind that this security check provides him.

It’s when Duncan reaches the main floor that all senses are on high alert. There’s music playing from somewhere, actual music. Battery-operated devices had long since died, and electronics could not be charged, which meant that the staff was eventually unable to listen to music, their one lifeline to the outside world that they had once been a part of. When that day arrived, it came as a relief to Duncan, who loathed the tunes and melodies that haunted and teased him. Now, for there to be more than the quiet humming coming from the staff, music surely meant trouble.

He begins to follow the sound down the hall, all the while keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of a glowing aura. Eventually he reaches the library, where the source of the music is coming from. However, it’s not a witch that’s set up a perfectly-planned trap and is deviously waiting for Duncan to come to her. Instead, it’s a record player. He’s not sure where the record player came from, but it’s hooked up and spinning a Fleetwood Mac vinyl. You’re on your back next to it, reading a book in front of the fire.

Duncan didn’t think that he was going to go any further into the library, but his legs have a mind of their own. It’s only when you look at him before sitting up that he now realizes he’s halfway into the room.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly, turning the volume down on the record player. “I can leave, if you’re wanting to use the library.”

“No!” Duncan realizes that sounded a little forceful, so he clears his throat and tries it again. “No, you’re fine. I just...heard music playing, and it’s been so long since we had music here that I was trying to find the source. Where did you get the record player from?”

“I was bored and looking through closets, and I found this and a bunch of records.”

“And out of all of the records you found, you had to pick Fleetwood Mac?”

“Hey, don’t talk shit about Stevie Nicks.”

You throw your head back in a laugh, and Duncan thinks that he might actually smile. The beginnings of a rare smile are thwarted, however, when an unexpected clap of thunder makes goosebumps rise on his arms. Of course, you notice the grimace on his face.

“You don’t like storms?”

Duncan looks into the fire, not used to somebody looking at him for any amount of time. “Not really, no. Bad experience in the past.”

You nod in understanding, and Duncan believes this is the end of the conversation. Surprisingly, it’s not. “My dad would always tell me that storms weren’t meant to be weathered alone. We would spend thunderstorms together, playing games or watching movies, sometimes even just sitting together, and suddenly, the storms wouldn’t be so bad.”

Duncan hums in acknowledgement, not quite sure what you’re getting at. You sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Come and sit with me,” you clarify.

“Oh.” Out of all the things that Duncan had been expecting from you, this was not that. It takes a minute for his brain to cooperate, but he does finally sit down on the couch. It’s not exactly “sitting with you,” but you won’t argue with this. “Is...is this okay?”

“I’m the one that invited you in here, aren’t I?”

“You did.” A long time ago, he would have never been so shy and unsure of himself. If Duncan then were to meet the man beast that he had become, he definitely wouldn’t recognize himself.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.”

“An actual question, smartass, not just permission to ask a question.”

Duncan smirks, but nods. “Why did you save me? That night where I tried to run away, you could have just let me die. That would have solved a number of your problems, but you didn’t let me die. Why?”

How was Duncan supposed to answer this question without sounding like even more of a creep? After all, he couldn’t exactly say that he saved you because you were his last chance to even potentially break the curse and save his life. Even then, he knew that this wasn’t the full answer. Truthfully, he saved you because, for some reason, he couldn’t bear the thought of you dying. It was a split-second decision, and one that had a multitude of reasons behind it.

In the end, he settles for the very beginning of the truth.

“You selflessly gave up your freedom so your friend could have his. I couldn’t let that sacrifice go to waste.” You don’t look extremely satisfied with that answer, but it’s good enough that you don’t ask for further elaboration. “What about you? Why did you give up your freedom for Jim’s?”

You raise your eyebrow. “We’re playing 20 Questions now, are we?” With a sigh, you stand up. “I’m gonna need some alcohol for this.”

Duncan has not enjoyed himself like this in a very long time. He’s had so much fun learning about you, from the mundane like your favorite color, to the introspective like if aliens really do exist. Likewise, he’s found himself opening up to you as well. 20 questions had turned into 40, which turned into so many that he’s lost count. With each question you took a sip of wine, leading to personal space becoming nonexistent and your body becoming boneless, that is, you were now lying right up against him and giggling. You aren’t drunk, but you’re definitely tipsy, and the wine has given you a warmth in your veins that heats you up against him.

Most importantly, and something that Duncan won’t note until later that night when he’s alone and missing your warmth, is that the storm hasn’t bothered him since he started talking with you.

“You’re tired,” Duncan states, looking at the way your blinks last longer and longer.

“A little, but ‘m okay. Besides, we’re talking.”

“You should go to bed.” His hand pauses at the last second, and he jarringly realizes that he was about to stroke your hair.

You nod, clumsily sitting up and trying to get your bearings after dozing. Duncan stands with you, beginning to walk with you to your room. “What are you doing?”

“Wanted to make sure that you weren’t going to decide the floor makes a good bed.”

You chuckle. “Y’know, you try to act like you’re a scary guy, but you’re not. You’re actually really thoughtful.”

“I’m not, but thank you.”

“Sure, we’ll go with that.” Now, he almost regrets walking you to your room, the door of which you’ve now reached. He stands a respectable distance away, ready to slip off back to his wing and wallow in solitude for the night. “I want to ask you one more question.”

“And what question is that?”

“What’s your first name? Nobody ever says it.”

He could choose to ignore your question, or tell you that that’s something he likes to keep private. He doesn’t feel like he deserves a first name anymore. First names are for people who aren’t monstrous beings cursed by a vengeful witch. But you’re looking at him with a waiting smile, and you’ve both shared so much tonight.

You think this question is a lost cause as the silence continues to stretch on. As you start to turn the doorknob open, ready to mumble apologies, he speaks.

“My name is Duncan.”

You turn around, grinning, and for the second time tonight, the warmth with which you look at him almost takes his breath away. “Goodnight, Duncan.”

Duncan wishes you goodnight as well, waiting until the door shuts before finally going back to his wing. In the empty study that he used to use, the enchanted rose, which wilts more and more each day and continues to lose petals, glows with a long-forgotten hope.

#duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd imagine #duncan shepherd x you #duncan shepherd fanfiction #duncan shepherd x reader #beauty and the beast au #hoc #hoc imagine #house of cards

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fandoms-are-my-friends-1321 · 4 years

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Fiery Flirtation

I figured that I would have a go at write for a different fandom besides Game of Thrones, and my friend chose Star Trek. I decided to write for Chekov because he is adorable. I don’t own the characters or the gif.

Description: Chekov meets the reader during her first day on the Enterprise. He is taken aback by her engineering skills, and Scotty helps him plan the perfect way to ask the reader on a date. However, their plan goes up in flames.

Warnings: none, just fluff

“Mr. Chekov, can you please report down to engineering? Scotty says that he needs to see you,” Kirk ordered from his spot in the captain’s chair.

Chekov turned around, confusion etched on his face. “Sir, why would Scotty need to see me?”

“He didn’t say. Maybe he needs you to fix something.”

“I’m not so sure about that, Captain.”

The last time that Chekov was in engineering, several things went wrong, so the odds of him being called down there to fix something were slim to none. There had to be some other reason. Chekov rose from his seat, and headed towards the elevator. The whole time he was wondering about what he would find on the other side of the elevator doors.

When he left the elevator, he was greeted by none other than Scotty himself. He turned around and smiled at the Russian. “Hello, lad! I have someone I want you to meet.”

Scotty escorted Chekov further into the engineering bay. Eventually, they reached the back corner, where a woman was working on a bundle of wires. Scotty cleared his throat to get the woman’s attention. She stopped her work and removed a pair of large goggles from her face. The woman smiled at the two men as she put her tools down.

“Y/N, this is Chekov. He’s a navigator here on the Enterprise. Chekov, this is Y/N. She’s one of our new engineers, and a bloody good one at that,” Scotty said as Y/N stepped forward to shake Chekov’s hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Chekov. Good to finally meet someone who isn’t super old,” Y/N remarked.

“Hey! I’m not that old,” Scotty retorted. His reply earned a laugh from Y/N. Chekov would have laughed, but he was to distracted by the woman in front of him. Her laughter sounded like music to his ears, and her E/C eyes still managed to sparkle in the dim lighting.

“So, what are you working on,” Chekov asked as a light blush dusted his cheeks.

“Nothing much really. I just had to replace a few capacitors, but they can be a bit difficult to reach. See, you have to get through all of these tiny wires, and if you touch or cut the wrong one, you’re in for a nasty shock,” Y/N explained as she gestured towards the large mass of wires.

“T-That’s very interesting,” Chekov stuttered as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I agree, and who knows, maybe you’ll be able to show me where you work sometime.”

Chekov simply nodded his head, for if he tried to form another sentence, it would sound like pure gibberish. He quickly said goodbye to Y/N, and started to head back towards the elevator. Y/N couldn’t help but smile as he left. Despite only meeting him a few minutes ago, she was attracted to him. Y/N went back to work, and Scotty ran to try and catch Chekov.

“Hey,” Scotty said as he placed his hand on Chekov’s shoulder and turned him around, “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

“I think I’m needed back up on the bridge. I have been gone a while,” Chekov replied as he tried to get into the elevator. However, Scotty’s grip on his shoulder remained firm.

“Are you sure there’s not another reason why you are wanting to leave?”

“Well, Y/N is a very amazing woman. I didn’t want to embarrass myself any further. We’ve only just met, and I don’t want her to get the wrong impression.”

Scotty couldn’t help but smirk at the Russian whiz kid. He knew exactly what was going on. “Come now, you don’t have to be so shy about it! If you like her, why don’t you just say so!”

“Please, keep your voice down,” Chekov exclaimed.

“Well, Y/N’s not going to be single forever. You’d best make a move soon before it’s to late. Maybe you could buy her some flowers and ask her on a date.”

Chekov pondered the idea. He would love to spend an evening with Y/N, but would it be to sudden? What happens if she rejected him and only remembered him as the guy who tried and failed to ask her out? Then again, she could easily say yes. Chekov slowly nodded his head. “Flowers. I can do that.”

Scotty couldn’t help but cheer. “That’s what I like to hear!”

Chekov simply smiled as he entered the elevator and headed back up to the bridge. His face felt like it was on fire, and he couldn’t get Y/N out of his mind. After Chekov left, Y/N walked around the corner and stood beside Scotty.

“What was all the yelling about? Did I miss something exciting,” Y/N asked.

“Oh don’t worry lass. You’ll find out tomorrow,” Scotty said with a knowing look. Y/N was quite confused as to what was going on, but she would just have to wait and see what Scotty was referring to.

The following day, Chekov was once again heading to the engineering bay. He made sure to clean his uniform the night before, and he bought the best bouquet of roses he could find. He was feeling more confident than the day before, and there was no way that the plan could go wrong.

However, as soon as he stepped out of the elevator, a firey ball launched past him. He managed to dodge it in time, and he let out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t relieved for long though, for the red roses were now a bright shade of orange as the flowers slowly burned to a crisp. Chekov quickly threw the bouquet onto the mental floor, and stamped out the remaining flames. As he looked at the onyx flakes that now blew up into the air, Scotty ran up to him.

“I am so sorry, Chekov. This new machine we have has been malfunctioning all day. I was hoping to have it fixed before you arrived, but you came sooner than I thought. I’ll buy you a new batch of flowers and everything will be fine,” Scotty rambled as he tried to sweep up the ashes.

“Why would he need flowers,” Y/N asked as the two men looked at her. Scotty pushed Chekov forward, and what little confidence he had disappeared.

“Well you see, I was going to bring you some flowers and ask you on a date. I know we just met, and I’m making a fool of myself, but your engineering skills are very impressive. I would love to get to know you more. Still, there’s no point now. I’ll just go back up to the bridge,” Chekov mumbled as he turned to leave.

“Wait, don’t go,” Y/N insisted. What flower petals remained crunched underneath her heels as she slowly made her way closer to Chekov. “I admire what you tried to do, even though it literally went up in flames. I may not know you well, but I can tell that you are kind and honest. So, where you going to take me?”

Chekov was surprised at how forward Y/N was. “H-How about we go to the bar that’s on the fourteenth deck? I could come by to get you at around seven,” he proposed.

“Sounds great. See you then, Chekov,” Y/N answered as she left a small kiss on his cheek. If Chekov wasn’t blushing enough before, he definitely was now. Y/N walked back to her work space, leaving a flustered Chekov and a flabbergasted Scotty in her wake.

“Well done, lad! Looks like you found yourself a good one,” Scotty remarked as he patted Chekov on the back.

“I agree,” Chekov confirmed with a slight smile.

After returning to the bridge, Chekov was greeted by small giggles and glances from his fellow comrades. He sat down in his seat, and even as he tried to get back to his work, the quiet laughter still continued.

“What is everyone laughing about,” Chekov questioned as he looked back at Kirk.

“Oh nothing much,” Kirk replied, “We just listened in on your attempt to ask out the newest engineer is all.”

“I see,” Chekov whispered as he turned back around in order to hide his embarrassment.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Mr. Chekov. We all thought it was smooth. I’m sure you will have fun on your date. Just don’t get to drunk you hear me.”

Kirk pointed at Chekov in an attempt to look stern, but he added a wink shortly after to show he was only joking. Bones, who had just entered the bridge moments before, rolled his eyes at Kirk. “Come on, Jim. We’ve seen the vodka that Chekov keeps hidden in his locker. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“I agree with Doctor McCoy,” Spock chimed in, “Chekov can not only handle his alcohol intake, but his charm and kindness will help him win Y/N over.”

“Thank you, Mr. Spock,” Chekov said as he finally got back to his work. He was glad to have the support of his colleagues, and he knew that if they had confidence in him, the date was bound to go smoothly.

One thing was for sure though, Chekov was hoping that the date would have more romance, and zero fiery accidents.

#chekov x reader #pavel chekov x reader #pavel chekov x reader fluff #chekov x reader fluff #pavel chekov #star trek #montgomery scott #james kirk #spock #leonard mccoy #fluff #finally publishing this after having it sit in my drafts for three weeks #better late than never

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blishwix · 3 years

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❝ WE ARE ALL WEARING MASKS. THAT IS WHAT MAKES US INTERESTING ❞

huh, who’s LUKE MITCHELL? no, you’re mistaken, that’s actually JIMBO “WICK” BLISHWICK VI. he is a 35 year old PUREBLOOD wizard who is CEO OF A WIXEN TECH & MEDIA COMPANY. he is known for being CALCULATING, FRAUDULENT, HEDONISTIC, CONCEITED, and AMORAL but also CHARISMATIC, AMBITIOUS, INNOVATIVE, METICULOUS, and PERSONABLE, so that must be why he always reminds me of the song IT’S LONELY AT THE TOP BY BIG BAD VOODOO DADDY and STYLISHLY RIPPED JEANS AND SUEDE SHOES, PURELY AESTHETIC AND MISLEADING SOCIAL MEDIA FEED, NEATLY TRIMMED BEARD AND SANDALWOOD MUSK, HORN RIMMED GLASSES WITH SMUDGES ON THE LENS, MOLESKIN FULL OF ENDLESS CODE AND FUTURE TECH INNOVATIONS, EXTRAVAGANT PENTHOUSE OVERLOOKING THE CITY, WHISKEY STONES AND EMPTY DECANTERS, and CHARMING PERSONABLE SMILES WITH MALICIOUS INTENT HIDDEN UNDERNEATH THE SURFACE. i hear he is aligned with THE DEATH EATERS, so be sure to keep an eye on him.

GENERAL

FULL NAME: Jimbo Dashiel Bartholomew Blishwick VI NICKNAME(S): Wick, Jim, Dash, Bart (yes he legit will go by any of these) AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 35, 02/16/1994 OCCUPATION: Tech & Media Mogul GENDER: Cis Man PRONOUNS: He/Him/His HOMETOWN: Dallas, Texas CURRENT RESIDENCE: London, I guess ALMA MATTER: Ilvermorny, Horned Serpent BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

BIOGRAPHY

MEET JIMBO BLISHWICK: THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHANGING THE WIZARDING WORLD ONE STATUS UPDATE AT A TIME.

I’m not sure exactly what to expect when the invitation comes in. It seems archaic to be communicating over owl. There was even a part of me that thought I should revert to the “email” form which my subject is so fond of. What if the wixen tech mogul’s fondness for typing meant he had poor penmanship? To my delight not only was Mr. Blishwick’s handwriting clear as day, but it came with a gleeful acceptance to be interviewed. So it was on that high note that I made my way to Blishwix HQ in London to meet with the illustrious CEO. What I had expected was some pristine corporate office with dark leather and wood accents, sterile and admittedly cold and disconnected from the world. What I was met with was surprising. Blishwix is anything but old school in its style. Much like the young hip branding that accompanies its many products and services, the corporate HQ of Blishwix is sleek, modern and very accessible. It’s a open space of mostly glass walls, the bull pen dotted with standing desks and stability balls replacing wheeling chairs. Towards the entrance to the main floor there is a food bar, one which changes weekly I’m told. This week it’s a cereal bar, last week it was a sushi bar, the next week it’s expected to be a pho bar. Employees are scattered around it with tablets and laptops, giddily conversing around mouthfuls of rainbow marshmallows and corn flakes. There’s also several corners tucked away with velvet cushions where some team members curl up with headphones and e-readers or handheld video game consoles. Designated comfort zones, the tour guide describes them as. It’s the Blishwix goal to make sure the employees are all comfortable, so whenever they get stressed out or overwhelmed, there’s always a little place they can escape to in order to calm their nerves. In truth, Blishwix looks less like a company and more like an urban hang out for pretty hipsters in crop tops and flannels. Surely the big man on top would have a more professional set up, right?

Even the display in the bull pen did not prepare me for Jimbo Blishwick’s personal office. It’s one of a few closed off areas to the side of the floor, wide with tall glass walls over looking the bull pen, and predominately empty save for another bean sack, a slim desktop atop a standing desk, and a row of bookcases displaying dozens upon dozens of novels, all of which I can’t place and among the only print media to be found anywhere in Blishwix. “They’re muggle books,” says a voice from behind. When I turn and get a first glance at the figure leaning casually against the glass door to the office, my gut instinct is that this is just another one of those twenty something year olds squeezing stress balls on the work floor. He’s tall, wearing a handmade beanie in a burnt orange color -- One that is, frankly, not a good pair with his golden hair. His neatly trimmed beard and horned rimmed glasses speak of an elegance that doesn’t exactly match the acid wash tattered jeans or the faded t shirt worn under an oversized cream cardigan. The shirt is colorful and bears a phrase that doesn’t come easy to me. Woodstock. Perhaps this is another “muggle thing”. It isn’t until he draws close enough that I recognize the bare footed man. It’s Jimbo Blishwick himself. “Call me Wick,” he easily responds to my surprised expression, knowing full well he wasn’t what I expected. Instead of holding out a hand in a formal handshake and then pulling up a chair for the interview, he engulfs me in a hug and ushers me into the love sack. It’s awkward at first, but eventually I melt into it. It’s just as comfortable as it looks, and their use in the designated comfort zones make more sense to me now. Wick opts to sit crosslegged on the floor, a large coffee in one hand and a bowl of granola balanced on his thighs. He sips the coffee as my eyes wander the space, finding small and interesting little things to ask him about.

The first thing that draws my attention is a set of crystals sitting on the top of his desk, and when I ask he lets out a howling laugh that echos throughout the office, surely drawing the attention of his hard playing -- and hardly working -- employees beyond the glass walls. “Oh, I had a bit of a headache,” he says with a somewhat amused grin. “My wife said they might help.” The wife in question isn’t some darling stay at home mom you might expect. In Wick’s own words: She’s the reason the “Boss Girl” phrase was invented. Selene Blishwick is as shrewd a business person as her husband is, and perhaps a bit more progressive. As I attempt to shift a bit in the cushion, Wick relays some confidential information about some of their upcoming branding collaborations. Each is more unconventional than the last, and they all have one vital thing in common: Selene Blishwick is the one that found them. I’d go into detail, but Wick swears it would become a marital problem if I spill the big secrets before they’re due to come out. Instead he offers a sly grin and taps a single finger to his lips. “Our little secret, then you can be the cool hip one among your friends who knew all about it before it came out.” An exciting proposition, though I realize that I do need something I can share with the public from this visit, and as Wick’s bowl of dry granola gets emptier I fear I’m running out of time. So I set out to do what I’d planned: a profile on the CEO of Wizarding London’s premiere tech company.

When I ask Wick what was the event that kickstarted his long journey to bringing the wixen world into the 21st Century, he answers in one simple phrase: “A pen pal program.” I was surprised to say the least, but it all became more transparent as I urged him to elaborate. What ensues is a story about the overweight son of a MACUSA politician who was teased and bullied all his life and struggled to maintain platonic connections. “I had no friends,” he says, a sad truth but it comes out with a light and airy laugh. “But I didn’t make it quite easy for people to be my friend.” Despite his laid back and easy going charm, Wick reveals a disabling shyness and insecurity that kept him from engaging with the world. The only one privy to his thoughts and personality was the journal he carried with him wherever he went. “I always thought I sounded better on print than in person. I could be whoever I wanted to be on paper -- Handsome, smart, clever and fun. I just could never bring that outwards, you know?” I think we can all sympathize with the young Blishwick’s plight. It didn’t help that he had quite the shoes to fill. Sixth in his line, the Jimbos that came before the media mogul were all tied to American politics. They’re all charming and ambitious men, but Wick says he just didn’t have it in him to be a lawmaker. “Big Daddy” -- yes, that’s the moniker his father, Jimbo the fifth, goes by -- “He’s just built to be a Senator, I’m just the apple that fell a little too far from that tree.” Secluded and distant, educators began to worry that Wick’s development would be halted by the lack of socialization between him and his peers. So one Ilvermorny professor had suggested Wick be one of a handful of students elected to partake in a cross continental penpal program. “Fabricating friendship,” he called it. What they didn’t know is that the program would lead to a lot more. When I ask him who his first penpal is, if it’s someone he still has direct contact with, he lets another one of those amusing grins slip. “Oh yeah, very much so. I’m actually married to her.”

A fifth year at Ilvermorny, Wick was matched with a Hogwarts student a handful of years younger than him by the name of Selene Rowle. According to Wick, their correspondence lasted throughout both of their schooling and beyond, until he had taken a chunk out of his trust fund in order to travel to the United Kingdom to meet in person. He says that’s the only time he used his family’s money to get where he is now -- literally using it to transport across the Atlantic. Leaving behind his family’s estate in Texas and the promising job at MACUSA his father had acquired for him, Wick came to London in order to meet his long distance friend for the first time. The only person “who really knew what he was about” he says. I ask if it was for romantic reasons. He thinks about it while he sips his drink. “I guess in hindsight it does seem a little romantic.” Whatever his reasons, Wick came and he never turned back. He said that one of the first times they interacted in person, he and his future bride had lamented on their past communication and the long waits between letters. “We felt like we’d left things off on cliff hangers so often, and you’d have to wait forever just to get some kind of answer to those burning questions the last letter gave you. It was one of the most frustrating things.” The pair wondered what it would have been like if there had been a more instantaneous way to talk with wizards across the globe. After all, Wick had concluded, the muggles did it just fine. During his teen years, the Texan said he had grown very interested in what nonmagical civilization was like. A “No-Maj Studies Class”, as they call the Muggle Studies program in the states, had a unit on the technological advances of the nonmagical community during much of the modern era. The professors tried to teach the students that this was all building towards a very dangerous threat to the magical community: exposure and the fast spreading of information over the internet. Wick saw something different. “As I thought about how I wished I had a better gateway to my penpal during my teen years, I just kept thinking about how muggles had that already figured out. They could instantly send letters to anyone anywhere in the world. No long wait times for traveling owls or anything like that. It was instantaneous.... And why shouldn’t we be like that?”

It was this very thought that birthed the company the Blishwicks lead now.

So how do you bring the magical world safely into the 21st Century as dictated by the nonmagical? That was no easy feat. For his part, Wick said he had to learn all about something that didn’t exist in their world, something that didn’t interact well with magic. And how do you study muggle tech without magic interfering? Simple: You “become a muggle”. That’s when I realized there was a book I recognized on his eclectic shelf of reading material. Daisy Hookum’s best seller My Life as a Muggle. It’s the first book on the shelf, in the most pristine condition. A first edition, and it’s even signed by the author herself, though Wick doesn’t remember the meeting. It has a simple message in it: I hope you enjoy the time you spend in the nonmagical world and make memories as fond as my own. “Oh yeah,” he laughs, “I did tell her I was also voluntarily giving up magic in order to help kickstart my company.” He says it with an air of unfamiliarity, like he only vaguely remembers the moment. Still, he presses on with the story. A controversial choice for the son of a self proclaimed “conservative-traditional” pureblood senator, Wick was shortly disowned by the American Blishwicks for his choice to give up his magic for two and a half years to live among the muggles. But it had purpose. “I may have lied my way into an internship with a tech company in Edingbrugh. I was trying to learn as much as I could about this muggle innovation. If I wanted to create something similar for our community, I needed to master their version.” He says it took more than the two years he gave himself to live among them, and he’s still studying it to this day, but after that amount of time he had the ground work he needed to then create his tech and media empire. The biggest obstacle wasn’t even in creating the highly secret magically encrypted network which allows smart phones to be used in the wizarding world. No, for Wick the biggest hurdle to pass over was the longstanding traditional values the community had. “I think there’s an innate fear in not just advancing the community, but in mirroring any sort of progress than the muggles have done. There’s nothing wrong with it, I mean we have adapted enough of their inventions into our own world already so why not take it a step further?” He refers to radio and electric hook ups that appeared in a lot of wixen homes in the past century.

Blishwix started out small, creating and selling smart phones and desktops primarily with the idea in mind to change the way we communicate. Email was one of those first muggle digital contraptions that made its way into the wixen mainstream and has stayed, but within a short decade the company’s offerings expanded to mirror exactly what the digital world of the muggles looks like now. It’s becoming more and more rare to see wixen without a Loquix* in hand, or a Blishwix desktop at home. The Wixpix social media app, in which users post photos taken from the cameras on their cellular devices and add witty captions which can then be “liked” or “commented” on by users across the globe, continues to grow in popularity. And now the media and tech giant is rolling out a “streaming platform” -- a sort of home theater in the form of an app that catalogues film and television programs created by wixen for wixen. There’s Accio, an application that allows you to ask random questions and receive an answer instantly; Portky** which allows users to request forms of transportation when they desperately need it, including ministry-approved portkeys (or so it claims, we haven’t used it yet here at the Prophet). There’s even applications for those lonely wixen looking to find a love connection. Erised is one such app where user profiles are made with a handful of photos, a small ‘about me’ section, and a few small details that can be provided to prospective dates in order to help connect those with similar interests and hobbies. The married Wick does not have an Erised profile, but his assistant allows me to scroll through her’s and even swipe a few times on other profiles. I accidentally match her to someone she admits she can’t see herself interested in, but we all have a good laugh about it. These are only a few of many “experiences”, as Wick refers to them, offered by the company in order to branch the magical people from across the globe. “What is more beautiful than seeing people from different cultural backgrounds and walks of life coming together and sharing ideas and thoughts so quickly?” I realize as I’m sitting there in that bean cushion, scrolling through a prototype of the next Blishwix tablet that I know so little about the world beyond my little corner of it. I suddenly understand Wick’s enthusiasm about expanded communication.

It’s all pretty exciting to see coming together, it’s almost impossible to understand what more could be done by Blishwix. So when I ask him what’s next, Wick gets a very eager look in his eyes. “There’s a lot of places we still don’t have our tech in that I think would be all the better for it,” he solemnly reveals, and I’m shocked to hear it. Since visiting Blishwix, I have seen their product seemingly in every corner of Wizarding London I explore daily. Who isn’t using connected to their expansive network at this point? “I would love to do a partnership with the Ministry. As the governing body, I feel like we can offer them so much that could continue to further develop the community and continue progressing us into the future. If we could get our desktops in every Ministry Department, we can further the sort of work that keeps our world moving. Just imagine how we could expand Law Enforcement, Education or Wellfare departments if we can make all the relevant information they need all the more accessible to their employees? Think about how much easier it would be for them to process information on our fast and reliable network.”

On the topic of Education, Wick reveals his ambitions don’t stop with the Ministry. “I would love to see Blishwix in schools like Hogwarts,” he says, revealing what may be the biggest bombshell yet. “This whole dream started because of a chubby boy who had no friends in school and wanted a faster way to communicate with the one he made far away. I think a lot about that and how my life would have been different had I had this kind of technology available to me. If there are lonely kids like me who could have that, or even kids who are just struggling to get the information they need to be successful in school, and I could give them what they need to advance in life? Then I could say I’ve done what I initially set out to do. Until that day, I would say that Blishwix hasn’t been a success yet. Even teachers could benefit from the use of the internet and all the resources we have out there which we now have access to.” I begin to wonder if the technological genius is actually more of a philanthropist. “I don’t know, you tell me,” he quips when I muse out loud. Our interview comes to a halt by this point, and I’m left with so many more questions. What is Blishwix cooking up for the wizarding world next? What kind of innovations will define the company’s next decade? These, and so many more, questions are left unanswered as I walk out of Blishwix HQ, a takeaway bowl of fruity cereal in one hand and my previous generation Loquix in the other (scrolling through shopping apps in order to find that “love sack” I spent much of the afternoon lounging in).

The same day I begin writing this piece out, Blishwix has announced the Loquix VI, their most advance smartphone yet. They livestream details of their upgraded OS and hardware reveal on the company’s social media, an event I watch while typing this article up on my worn out typewriter. Halfway through and I’m out of ribbon, and I silently curse myself as I order a new set online. All the while the Blishbook Pro is being revealed on the stream, its sleek wireless keyboard and slim expandable monitor shimmering under the stage lights. I join in with the loud gasps from the shareholders crowding the conference room where the event is being held. The irony of this isn’t lost on me, and as I sit here writing out these last few paragraphs with a quill in my cramped hand I begin to realize exactly why I admire Jimbo Blishwick and his forward thinking. At least he’s not sitting here with ink blotches in obscene places, running to his editor’s office just barely before deadline with a mess of typed and handwritten article. I remember in that moment, drenched in the rain while rushing through the offices of the Prophet, the first line in his owl response to my inquiry for the interview:

You should have just emailed.

Touché, Blishwick, touché.

*Portky app idea comes courtesy of Kim ( @strvngemagics ) **Loquix phone name comes courtesy of Vic ( @cfdiggorys / @moodyparis / @aarlingtons ) Both gave permission to use / mention these galaxy brained concepts in the intro and credit for their conception goes to them. Thank you guys so much!!

TL;DR: Wick is full of shit. What can I say? Here’s the ‘Murrican lad who claims to be some hip and cool CEO of a wizarding tech and media company. Okay he’s I guess apple meets zuckerberg. Idk I’m not galaxy brained enough for this afheiahfpea hence the very oddly written bio. Wick’s a pureblood from america who supposedly forsake his family’s purist ways and then decided to create a company modeled after muggle tech in order to “bring the wizarding world into the modern era”. In actuality? He’s a fucking bigot who created a network that he could use to spy on people who may be enemies of the cause. At least that’s how it’s being factored into the DEs. His theme song is “Somebody’s Watching Me” by Rockwell bc he’s always watching you. Gives off this very laid back and down to earth and charming persona just so he can gain your trust and meanwhile he’s leaking your information to the DE and helping them further their agenda. Some extra tidbits not seen above:

He’s got some daddy issues which are leaking into his parenting. Aka he is not exactly excited to be a father but you wouldn’t know that from his Wixpix feed which feature so many “cute” dad photos with his baby boy. In order for him to become his best self, his dad had to make his life a living hell and he believes that’s how he’s gonna have to handle Zephyr as well.

He is smart, yes, but he’s not some brilliant innovator like the world thinks he is. His empire is built on stolen material which he simply “adapted” to the magical world. He’s not original, but he is clever.

He’s not a fighter, clumsy with a wand, had a severe stutter as a kid which made it very hard for him to cast spells etc, so he avoids battle often and instead offers up his company more for espionage for the DEs. He’s better suited to behind the scenes mayhem, and that’s kind of the way he likes it.

He’s a coward. He’s hiding behind computer screens and tbh if things get really sticky he’s likely to try and sell out the DE in order to save his skin. Has an escape plan to the states if things get really sticky but the likelihood of him succeeding are slim to none.

He acts very charitable and humble and kind but he’s conceited as hell and he’s a real shady bitch sometimes. Talks shit on everyone behind their backs

He’s had a few affairs here and there despite being married. Even with that, he is in love with his wife and feels a sort of fealty towards her. She’s a very important part to the company, she’s pretty much the brand of it and so he relies on her a lot to help manufacture their image even just as individuals to help the rouse.

BODY IMAGE TW/EATING DISORDER TW. Wick has some body image issues due to his past tbh. He got bullied a lot as a kid for being overweight and quiet, his solace was in food and he was a binge eater. As he got a bit older, he made some desperate choices in order to lose weight to gain a slimmer figure. It wasn’t healthy, it landed him in hospital a few times, and eventually he had to meet with nutrition specialists and therapists in order to work out a more healthy mindset on food. He’s still harbors body imagine issues, but he’s learned to be better about it. Still, he maintains a very strict diet and work out regime because he feels his image is one of the most important things about him. He did meet Selene when he was slim and athletic and therefore thinks it’s best he maintain the figure even just out of fear she wouldn’t find him attractive otherwise.

is any of the stuff he said in this interview true? Idk, idk

Idk, I hate this man and this bio afheuiahfpea I’ll end up rewriting it eventually.

MISC

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Biromantic LANGUAGES: English FAMILY: Jimbo Dashiel Bartholomew Blishwick V (but they call him “Big Daddy”; father), Cricket Blishwick née Berkeley (mother), Beaufort Harland Blishwick (younger brother), Cora-Lou Blishwick (younger sister), Selene Blishwick née Rowle (wife), Zephyr Blishwick (infant son), and by extension all the fucking Rowles I guess PETS: TBD FACE CLAIM: Luke Mitchell ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Aquarius MBTI: hm PINTEREST: (coming soon)

WANTED CONNECTIONS

interns - a couple new grunts at the blishwix HQ. they can be any affiliation, but if they are DE affiliated then they’ll know a little bit more about what is going on behind closed doors at the company. could be fun for future plotting purposes.

co conspirators - other DEs who similarly to wick lead a double life in the public eye. philanthropists, media stars, all sorts of “do gooders” who are banning together in order to break “harmful stigmas and stereotypes and join the wixen community globally”. blishwix mission statement aims to create a platform for wixen of all types across the world to interact free of prejudice and judgement and to bring the magical community into a modern era free of harmful ideologies. of course that’s a fucking lie, so if you play a baddy bad who’s pretending to be goody good then this could be a fun collaboration.

partnerships - alternatively, let’s see some honest to good people and groups get schemed by these fuckers. this would involve some potential screwing over but no worries, at the end of the day blishwix will tank and then your character can get their sweet revenge on this man and his corrupt business.

idk hmu with ideas.

#potterintro #sorry fam no fun doodle this time #bad men don't deserve it #ahfieafea i'm sorry this is kinda lame but i wanted to get something out there to help with plotting

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kinetic-elaboration · 3 years

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September 1: 3x06 Spectre of the Gun

Okay so, it might be a little early to declare myself a S3 apologist, since there are still a lot of eps I’ve never seen, but I feel like I’m pretty close..

This ep was so good!! Honestly I think it’s one of my faves. And perfect to usher in Spooky Season.

Honestly, this show really is my happy place. Just all the characters together on the bridge, on some kinda adventure, looking at weird space buoys and investigating stuff.

Again, this buoy looks like a Windows 98 screensaver.

Kirk keeps referring to Spock as “Science Officer.” Is he mad at him? Full of some particularly intense longing that requires him to put extra distance between them?

Excuse me, you address US as aliens? YOU’RE the aliens.

Hmmm, so it seems they’re not friendly.

It’s addressing them in different languages!!! I love it. Love the reminder that Uhura’s first language is not English,also.

“True telepaths are dangerous.” As opposed to fake telepaths like Vulcans lol?

The Melkotians withdrew immediately. They invented space travel, they saw space, and they said “not for us” and they turned around and left. McCoy would like them; they’d have a lot to gripe about together.

The welcome mat is NOT out.

“Unlike Mr. Scott’s transporter, this unit is not functioning.”

It legit looked like Spock put his hand on Kirk’s back there. Like he clearly raises it, but not far enough to be seen above Kirk, so like.. what was the point? Where did it go?

LEE CRONIN--oh no, flashbacks lol.

“We come in peace”--immediately pulls out gun.

I should have watched this when writing my Western fic.

Just bits and pieces of a Western town... and a completely red sky...

The guns are “crude but dangerous.” If only Sulu were here; he’d love this.

An announcement with a specific time and place on it--that’s a very precise detail to just pull from their minds. Must have come from Kirk’s, that nerd. Maybe Spock. But probably Kirk.

“Because my ancestors pioneered the American frontier.” I mean did they really get to the frontier? Or just... the Midwest?

Maybe it’s actually because he’s a cowboy at heart?

Aliens using his own ancestral sins as the pattern for his own death for breaking their law IS a great (possibly partially unintended) idea. Oh also, if they think that Kirk and co. are here to ‘tame’ or colonize them, then the Western setting makes even more sense--you’re no different from your ancestors, you came somewhere new and brought lawlessness and violence and death, but not this time!

Can you believe Kirk knows all of these details about the OK Corral? NERD.

Spock is so proud of himself for knowing the phrase “had it out.” Look, I used slang correctly!

These are some creative aliens.

“We know death is real here.” Or is it? They’re literally telepaths guys.

Hmmm, this building doesn’t need a roof I think. - The aliens probably

Can’t believe Scotty thinks his usual is his actual usual lol. You’re going to drink bourbon and like it!

Kirk and Spock look so good together.

They’re obviously Chekov’s disapproving parents.

“The day is still young, Ensign.” I don’t remember the exact context of this but Spock is SO judgmental.

What is Kirk doing? This guy is a hallucination; he won’t be convinced by touching some cloth. There’s nothing to convince! He’s only a Concept.

“Have you seen clothes like this?” / “Yes.” / “Where?” / “On the Claytons!” Comedy gold.

Kirk really thinks he can charm his way out of anything. Hmmm, maybe if I just talk nicely to the Earps, they won’t kill us.

“In small amounts, it [bourbon] was considered medicinal.” Lol.

Scotty is becoming a bourbon guy!

“Mr. Chekov is inVOLVed” lol. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?

“A lot of people and things have tried to kill me.” No need to brag.

THAT’S how you make a city limits sign. Put a dead animal skull on top. I live quite close to a city limits sign and I think it could use a cow skull.

Western Cossacks!!

Poisonous snakes and cactus plants. That really distills the Aesthetic down to its core.

This is a good Kirk episode. He’s really being a good Captain: coming up with different ideas, being creative, pushing his crew to brainstorm.

Bones and his tranqs again.

Bones meets his old nemesis: Old Timey Medicine.

Why was Doc Holiday just...chilling in his own dentist chair? (My mom suggested: power nap. Let’s go with that. Power nap + ability for optimally dramatic entrance.)

Also I can’t believe McCoy just goes into this guy’s practice and starts helping himself to all the serious drugs.

Chekov definitely isn’t the marrying kind.

RIP Chekov.

Bones does not sound very sympathetic here. Jim, get over it, he just died, whatever.

And then two seconds later he turns around and tells Spock he’s not sad enough! You can’t win.

“We all knew the risk when we joined the service.”

“My feelings are not a subject for discussion.” !!!!!!! This line!!

“You worked closely with him.” Yes! Chekov is his protege!

“Bones, Scotty, stop bullying Spock.” <-- not an actual quote but it might as well be.

If this were AOS, Spock would already be choking Bones out.

Whoops, no one told Chekov he wasn’t supposed to die!

“Let’s organize! Let’s form an anti-Earp union!”

“I can’t kill them!” he says in a mad rage.

I mean, it is important, though. That’s not what he does.

Kirk is /disgusted/ by lawlessness and frontier justice. What a Rebel TM.

I feel like Bones was waiting for the gotcha moment when Spock compliments him. “Saying nice things about me? That’s not how this relationship works!”

“Nothing can go wrong.” / “Up to now, everything has gone wrong.” He has a point.

That pause before Spock admitted it hasn’t been tested lol--they don’t want to admit it.

“[The bourbon’s] for the pain.” / “But this is painless.” / “You should have told me that before.” The unexpected comedy stylings of Scotty and Spock.

It doesn’t work--guess Spock’s got to take back that compliment now.

“Captain, you don’t understand--they’ve been telepaths the whole time which we already knew!”

“We’re not going to move from the spot.” * is immediately in a different spot * Well I mean at least he’s trying. He’s doing his best!

Love the OK Corral sign also. Weirdly creepy. With its accompanying horse.

Spock doesn’t have any hips for the holster to rest on.

“What did Chekov die of?” / “A piece of lead in his body.” That would do it.

If the tranquilizer should have been effective, does that mean Scotty is actually passed out right now?

Honestly, this is all so spooky. TRUE Western Horror Ghost Vibes.

Also very trippy. If you don’t believe it... it’s not real... some kinda weird chicken and the egg argument regarding our belief in the truth of physical laws idk but it sounds good. Spock brings it home.

Even with the wind whipping around him, Kirk is SO in love. His absolutely adoring expression... So soft...

“Very well, Sir, I’ll meld with you again. Not that I particularly want to. It will be a sacrifice. But I’ll manage. Even though you’re such a dynamic individual haha ha I’m fine I’m cool.”

I feel like Scotty is NOT into the mind meld. He looks terrified. Maybe he should have saved the bourbon for this occasion.

I know the mind meld is supposed to be a replacement for on screen hypnotism...but is this not hypnotism? Like even more than past uses? In this case, Spock is leaving them with suggestions that he wants to continue AFTER the meld, as opposed to, like, efficiently sharing information or giving immediate suggestions. And the scenes themselves are very creepy and...hypnotic.

Kirk’s patented move: WHOLE BODY ATTACK.

Well, we wrapped that up right quick.

Did they... never actually leave the bridge? Or even navigate past the buoy? This actually brings up a lot of questions as to when the aliens started the hallucinations, what their bodies looked like to the rest of the crew, and how they woke up--since there’s obviously been a bit of a time skip, as Bones is already examining Chekov.

Lol at Chekov, saved by horniness. “Nothing but the girl was real to him.”

“A vast alliance of fellow creatures who all believe in the same thing...”

Kirk’s vision of the utopian future is so powerful, he’s effectively gotten the welcome mat put back out.

A personal question? Kirk is intrigued.

Ah, but it’s just another excuse for Spock to be a hypocrite--how did humans survive? How did VULCANS survive? And for the show to remind us of its utopian vision of the future... we will move past violence, we will prove ourselves attractive to and worth of new alien friends.

Then McCoy walks out so Kirk and Spock can have their Moment. He undoubtedly knows what’s up.

So this ep was shown one day before the anniversary of the shootout at the OK Corral AND on Halloween week. It is very much a spooky season episode. So surreal and strange. Ghostly.

I know using sets rather than on location shoots, and not even building whole sets, was a budgetary issue but tbqh I think it worked in the ep’s favor. It added to the alien feeling of it and was an accidentally creative way of showing that these images were pulled from Kirk’s mind.

This felt like a very Classic S1-ish ep to me. I think it’s because Kirk was foregrounded as the Captain/hero and we get to see not just his intelligence and creativity and leadership but also his compassion and his moral core. He IS the values of the series, personified, and that was clear here.

But we also got to see lots of him and Spock, casually working as a pair, and the use of the rest of the landing party crew was very deft also. I loved that there was time to mock Chekov’s horniness, to talk about Spock and Chekov’s professional relationship, to joke around with Scotty, to show more of the Spock and Bones dynamic.

Again, great sci fi concept. I think this would have been another possible inspo for my Pirate AU if I’d seen it in time (although I think I picked a good mission-concept ultimately). I’m fascinated by the Melkotians: who are they? What do they really look like? Do they communicate any other way but telepathically? Are they corporeal? What is their planet like? And most importantly, what experience lead them to be so isolationist? They specifically refer to the aliens as “disease” coming into their home. And it’s when Kirk shows himself to be fundamentally nonviolent even in the face of his own death, they let the Enterprise through.

Basically, I always enjoy hints of alien societies that bring up more questions for me than answers. I love speculating about it.

The next two eps I’ve seen and remember well and I know they’re classics. I’m really looking forward to them!

#the year 2021 #2021: fandom thoughts #2021: star trek #star trek tos

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

Text

Darkwing Duck: My Valentine Ghoul Review aka A Bad Episode Even by Valentine’s Day Episode Standards

Welcome back Darkwings of the Night. It’s time to go back to St. Canard for the very review that got me to finish up my look at the episodes that should’ve lead up to Just Us Justice Ducks and the episode itself last month. While I probably COULD have reviewed this one before finsihing that as continuity’s pretty loose here, I wanted to see Negaduck’s proper introduction first. So was it worth it?

Yeah while I was glad to get one of my retrospectives done and free up some room for other stuff, this episode..was an objective disapointment and might be even worse than “Brush with Oblivion”. If your curious to know why and aren’t already lobbing a harpoon at me for bashing an episode you liked, join me under the cut.

On PAPER this episode sounded really good. Negaduck trying to seduce Morgana back to crime and in general after Darkwing once again neglected her is not at all a bad premise and the in episode conflict of Darkwing’s obnoxious supscioson of his girlfriend being an ex con, COULD’VE been really interesting. But there’s a reason Could’ve was in all caps folks: This episode is not very well put together and it’s gender politics have aged like fine santa liquor left split in a bathtub surronded by toxic waste for 20 years, and tastes just as bad. Trust me I know. My colon still hasn’t recovered. So let’s get into WHY shall we?

So we open with a date in a graveyard with Darkwing and Morgana, unsuprisingly though Darkwing isn’t the fondest of their meal which... look like someone scrambled the Star-Spawn of Cthulu. He’s going to be pissed.. especially once I try some. Look i’m very curious and very hungry.

But things take a turn when Darkwing brings up diamonds, because he’s fully insensitive enough to bring them up in front of his girlfriend. She does take the truth in stride: he’s not proposing he’s simply hung up on a case of diamonds going missing, and no solution and thus might have to cut the date short. She offers to go with him but he shoots her down, saying the last time she helped she turned him into a rutabega.. instead of you know TRAINING her and helping her on her aim. Then the episode looses me.. and about how long into the episode are we exactly? Not taking the theme song into acount?

Yup. It takes around 2 minutes, with some change. for the episode to become absolutley terrible. But first off Morgana suddenly flies off the table claming he dosen’t trust her for being a former criminal and zaps him in vengance.. which is assualt. Cartoony assault sure but it still hurts and his reactoin is STILL pure feer as he’s turned into some kind of ball... I mean.. it’s not like he can’t fight crime like that. Some of the best have done it.

But still she goes to physical violence at the drop of a hat this episode and Darkwing seems more than a little afraid of that happening again. Just... wow. I thought, having finished the Legend of the Three Cablleros, i’d be done with writing so poor a character comes off as a domestic abuser, mental in that case phsyical here, but here we are. Now this is untetional so I don’t blame the writers as much.. but I still heft some blame on them for being SO bad at writing a woman that she can’t get angry without phsyically attacking her partner or grasping the implications there.

Oh and it gets worse. Yes, it somehow gets worse from “Morgana attacking darkwing for upsetting her”. Darkwing proves to be pretty vile himself, as when Morgana accuses him of not trusting her due to her criminal past.... he says “You know what they say once a crook always a crook. “

My.. fucking.. god.... the show is stacking unfortunate implications on top of itself like lego bricks. And yes attitudes towards prisoners were much worse back then, I get that. Dosen’t make it tolerable to HEAR someone spouting that bullshit, let alone our protaganist. And while it doesn’t make her right to shoot lighting at him, as she does after this or attack him before... it does mean he’s a massive, mentally abusive dick who refuses to trust his partner who reformed FOR HIM, just because she used to do crimes. It takes a special kind of bad writing to screw up so badly that two of your heroes are immensley unikeable in the span of minutes but they did. CONGRADULATIONS DUMBASS!

So yeah Morgana breaks up with him and he tries to go after her and Gosalyn, who was there the whole time with eek and squeak, decides she needs to get the two back together.

I mean at least Gosalyn MEANS well. As a result despite her helping them not being a good idea, she’s one of the most likeable characters in the episode. At least for now. The most likeable?

Yes. REALLY. Now granted he’s as much of a bastard as always; After seeing Morg’s tantrum he wants to seduce her back to evil to help with his diamond scheme, unsurprisingly he’s the one stealing them and his plan to do so.. is not all that bright as he fakes being good to get into her good graces.. forgetting that he’s going to need to show her he’s bad again for any of his plan to work, as during the climax i’ts revealed he’s using a candy company as a front for diamond smuggling. Now granted that.. is actually really clever as no one’s going to think to check a shipment of choclate boxes for diamonds unless their tipped off and he even mentions starting a candy company earlier, so that being his scheme dosen’t come out of left field and i’ts a clever misdirect that you’d THINK he was lying about the Candy Company. But while Negsy doesn’t’t escape the contagious case of stupidity everyone’s got this episode, he’s still entertaining as ever and Jim cummings manages to make saying “Well be the best of pals” pants crappingly terrifiying. So Negaduck is a delight as always even if his plan makes little sense, as his way of going about it is still clever: he fakes being good and both uses this to make darkwing jealous, thus making him seem irational, and to provide a shield and also forces himself on their valentine’s date. He even gets past Morgana rightfully beign supsicous by playing to her past. So yeah not the best plan OVERALL but damn if he still isn’t awesome. They visit a carnival, ah feels like home, though this one has a freak show where MORGANA feels like she’s home. After trying to fry Darkwing and making him look like the bad guy Negaduck manages to seperate the two in the tunnel of love then use darkwing’s own jackassery against him by claming he left saying once a crook always a crook. He hten.. comes on way too strong, first asking if she’s thought about going back to crime when they get back to her place and then isn’t resceptive when he just tries to fully turn on the charm. Oh and Darkwing walks in and thinks his gilrfriend is cheating despite her not returning Negaducks affections because he’s a douchebag. Gosalyn is in the house at the same time as after Negaducks earlier deception, Eek and Squeak flew her back to Morgana’s house to use the Necronomiduck, which talks like he just walked out of Beast’s house because of course he does, and gets a love potion.. which they accidently spray on Darkwing instead. So we do get one of the few GOOD parts of the episode where Darkwing acts all buddy buddy to negaduck and Negaduck even gets rid of him just by telling him to go jump off a cliff. And the combination of Drake acting all sachrine again, much like posiduck, and Negaduck’s clear annoyance and confusion is just comedy gold.

Sadly that ends and Drake returns and a fight breaks out with Morgana accidently freezing darkwing and when trying to freeze negaduck, he simpy reflects it back the obsconds with her ice cube.

While Gosalyn and co thaw her dad out, Negaduck explains the whole choclate scam and Morgana refuses and they fight, with Negaduck covering her in chocolate.. then darkwing when he shows up as you’d expect. Darkwing however has buzzsaw cufflinks, a wonderful 60′s batman type gag, and saves them both.. btu the love potion ends up on Gosalyn who covers her dad and possible step mom in frosting

Thankfully it wears off fast, and morgana gets the idea to put the love potion, which is air born into the gas gun, finally getting Darkwing to trust her and blasting Negaduck, then suckerpunching him when he gets close. Oh and despite her plan being VERY obvious , Darkwing STILL questions her flirting with the guy.

So the day is saved and we end with him questioning her order at dinner that night and her .. attacking him. And Gosalyng saying “Well you always hurt the ones you love”

Final Thoughts: .I do not like this episode. I do not like it on a moat, on a boat or with a goat or in any way shape or form even though that breaks the ryhme. Reviewing it only had me finding MORE problems with it. Morgana and Darkwing are so unsympathetic here, with her violence towards him making it seem like “Aw all couples are just the woman chasing the man around with the frying pan.. or lighting bolts in this case” even though that’s sexist as hell at BEST and makes light of domesdtic abuse towards men at worst. Darkwing gets off no better, being THAT kind of asshole who assumes just because someone used to be a criminal they always will be. Which even in pastiche makes no sense as I can name tons of superheroes, a who USED to be criminals or villians: Hawkeye, Scarlet Witch, Black Widow, Luke Cage (Before becoming a superhero), Scott Lang Ant-Man, Hal Jordan Green Lantern, Cassandra Cain, Simon Baz, Mach 10, Songbird, Quicksilver, Rogue, Wonder Man, and Emma Frost. And that’s not getting into the number of heroes, including many on this list, who went evil fo ra bit and came back from it.. some of whom are on this list. Usually his black and white insanity schick works but the episode does nothing to punish him for it and instead makes Morgana seem just as irrational by attacking him.

While this episode dosen’t use the love potion badly, thank god, with morgana even calling it a bad idea.. i’ts all I can give it outside of negaduck. The love potion and negaduck gags are both great.. but everything else is just so toxic and odious it makes it very hard to enjoy. And so.. this wins the DUBIOUS honor of being the worst Darkwing Duck episode i’ve seen so far. The plot’s weak, filled with horrible outdated ideas even by the time this was made, and no one is likeable, even Negaduck wears out his once he starts getting a bit too pushy with morgana. All in all a waste of potetial and a good episode. Until the next rainbow, this episode can step on a rusty railroad spike and get tetnus.

#darkwing duck #drake mallard #gosalyn mallard #morgana macawber #negaduck #jim staring #disney #disney plus #valentine's day #ducks

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flamehairedwritings · 4 years

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Hey I love your Jim Hopper hcs!!! Could you do some about jealous Hopper? Maybe with Mayor Kline hitting on the reader? Thank you!!!

Thank you so much, lovely!! I’m so sorry this is late!

as I’ve said before, Hop is not a jealous man.

He’s not. He deals with jealous assholes at work all the time, and he just hates it. Besides, he trusts you.

.................... uhm

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t occasionally get a little jealous, though, mainly because he can be a little insecure, in himself that is.

He can’t help but think every now and then, in a tiny corner of his mind, that he doesn’t deserve you, that you could do better. He can’t help it, he’s always been insecure, and after his divorce and you being his first proper relationship since then, it has just exacerbated it.

He hasn’t had those feelings in a loooong time, though. With your love and care, he’s worked through it, and trusts you completely.

And then came the fair.

He never used to attend it, but this year, when you’d come home from work with the leaflet, eye-wide, smile wide, he’d begrudgingly agreed to go.

When the day came, your excitement was kinda infectious, especially when you’d classed it as a date, so he’d dressed in his new, favourite, tropical shirt, washed and brushed his hair, and had nearly thrown you on the damn bed with what you’d dressed in.

You’d held hands in the Blazer as he drove, laughing and singing along to the radio, both of you the most relaxed you’d been in a long time. It was getting more and more rare these days that you get an evening off together and actually do something with it, though you’re also quite happy to sit on the couch and hold each other as you half watch something.

This is exciting, though, something different, something new, and who doesn’t love a fair?

Once he’d parked up, you’d gotten out and held hands again, your eyes wide at the lights and sounds and laughter. He’d taken a breath and, though it’s not particularly his scene, he seizes the opportunity to just spend time with you.

And he soon relaxes, his arm going around your shoulders, around your waist, his hand back in yours, laughing as you do, and trying his damn best to win you a damn toy. He excels on the coconut shy and the shooting games, winning you whatever you want. You’re both soon hungry, though, and you grab a free picnic table as he gets in the queue for food, his hands in his pockets.

A couple of people will talk to him in the line, and he’ll be polite and talk back, then Callahan will bump into him and talk his ear off while he eats cotton candy. Hop will half listen, nodding and humming and glancing over Callahan’s shoulder at you.

The fourth time he glances over his shoulder, he’ll see that you’re not alone.

Mayor Larry Kline.

Hop has... not much of a relationship with him. He has to meet every week or so with him of course to report on what’s going on in Hawkins and to just be seen to be doing so, really, Kline never really listens and just kind of waves him off as everything seems to be fine.

But even from the short meetings he’d had with him, Hop knows what kind of man Mayor Kline is; a sleaze.

He’s charming, handsome, witty, everything a successful politician is.

And Hop watches you laugh at something Kline says.

Watches the way Kline talks to you, engaged, animated, attentive, and it... it makes something twist a little inside him.

Hop knows who he is, and knows that you love him, he knows you do, but... sometimes he wishes he could be more for you, that he could hold a room, be charming like Kline and make you beam with pride. At seeing Kline with you, he forgets that you already do that when you see him.

Running a hand down his mouth and beard, he keeps his eyes fixed on you, Callahan still going on and on, oblivious.

Kline laughs charmingly at something you say... and rests a hand on your knee.

He’s too busy staring at the hand, that he doesn’t notice you tense slightly and try to shift it away as you laugh politely.

Then, Hop’s striding out of the queue, ignoring Callahan’s ‘what the hell?’s

You were sat on your own, smiling to yourself, so happy with how the evening was going, that you and Hop were getting to spend real quality time together, when you’d heard someone approach.

Getting ready to say no, the table is not free, you’d then met the gaze of Mayor Larry Kline.

You’d smiled automatically, wanting to be polite, and he’s the mayor, after all, and he’d returned it, charming as ever.

You’d heard from Hop that Kline had... an interest in woman who weren’t particularly his wife, so that had been ringing in your mind as he’d introduced himself and sat down. You’d never met him, but he knew you were Hop’s girlfriend so even more alarms had started ringing when he’d turned on the charm.

You just tried to be as polite as you could, though, because, again, he’s the mayor, and he wasn’t doing anything that overtly called for you to call him out, and hoped Hopper would be back soon.

‘Wow, you’ve won a lot today, huh?’

‘Oh, no, not me, my boyfriend, Hopper, Jim Hopper,’

‘Ah, yes, of course. It’s good, that you have a man like that to take care of you.’

‘Yes, I’m very happy with him.’

Everything you said, you tried to make it very clear you are happy with Hopper, but Kline either wasn’t getting or was ignoring the message.

‘I have a gala next week, you and Hop should come, I bet you’d be the belle of the ball.’

‘Oh, no, I don’t think so, I think your wife would outshine me.’

He laughs, his hand gently resting on your knee.

‘Oh, I don’t know, you may give her a run for her money.’

Oh my God.

You laugh, politely, and try and shift your knee away, and you’re about to politely remind him of his wedding vows when Hop is suddenly there at your side, his hand settling on your back.

Kline smiles brightly, charmingly, as he looks at him.

‘Hopper! So good to see you—’

‘Yeah, whatever, pal, can you get your hand off my girl’s knee.’

Kline stares at him as you stare at Kline, your lips twitching.

‘... Oh, I was just—’

‘Hand. Off.’

Kline’s hand comes off your knee instantly and he laughs, albeit rather nervously this time, and gets to his feet, straightening his suit.

‘Just a misunderstanding, Hopper, I assure you—’

‘Yeah, I bet, you have a nice night with your wife, Kline.’

Kline’s smile is forced, fixed, and you’re biting at your lower lip to hide your own smile.

‘Well, I... Good evening, have a great night, both of you.’

Hopper watches him walk away until he hears your throat clear. Looking down at you, he finds you grinning.

‘My girl’, huh’?’

‘Well, you are, aren’t you?’

‘Oh...’

Rising to your feet, your smirk wide, your arms go around his neck as you look at him.

‘... Yes, I am.’

His own arms go around your waist, a low hum coming from him.

‘Think I might need to remind a few people of that.’

‘Chief...’

‘Shut up and come here...’

Your laugh will be muffled by his lips descending on yours, and with a single kiss, Hopper will remind everyone in the vicinity that you are his, and he is yours.

—

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