#it’s so strange seeing Miles perform in a suit (not in a bad way)

[nicoscheer]

Via Jakobhetzer on ig

Jesus does he look good

Via blanchecottin on ig

X

#18/01/2024 #paris fashion week #Fursac #miles Kane #it’s so strange seeing Miles perform in a suit (not in a bad way) #casually wearing a probably at least thousand euro designer suit to complete sweat it through 😂 #emulating his husbands the constant suit wearer #Instagram #the loge (box) poster picture gives real fancy vibes

[imaginationoverspill]

Long time no see

Summary : Two years into an undercover mission, you find yourself meeting the very man you had to leave behind.

Obi-Wan Kenodi x Genderneutral!reader

The low boom of the bass permeated through the sweaty bar as Master Kenobi and his padawan moved through the crowd.

“Master are you sure this the right place ?”, Anakin mumbled to his master, uncomfortable in the civilian clothes that many of the regulars wore. His status as a padawan hidden as his braid was tucked under the shoulder-length wig.

“Yes Anakin, I’m sure and please stop fidgeting, you’re drawing attention”, he replied as he glanced around the crowd inconspicuously.

“Yes Master”.

Eventually, the pair found an empty booth in a more secluded part of the club, but also a lot closer to one of the many circular platforms dotted around that were mainly used by scantily-clad dancers of varying species and gender. One of the platforms was directly in front of Obi-Wan’s line of sight and was a lot larger than the other platforms, probably used as the main stage. At the moment it was empty as the generic low-bass music continued to play.

“So this informant, any idea how we’re supposed to find them ?”

“Patience, young one”, replied Obi-Wan.

The music suddenly changed and the lights dimmed so that the main stage was lit up. Both men looked at the stage as two twi’leks, one male and one female, start dancing along to the beat.

Here we go again. Just like every other night for the past two years, you sat in the dressing room getting ready for your performance. At least this time, you know two Jedi will be waiting for you for information. They should be easy enough to spot, even if they think they’re amazing at being disguised. Most of the time ordinary people don’t notice them when they’re not in their robes, you, however, could spot them a mile away so it didn’t really matter that you had no idea who the Jedi you were supposed to meet was. Hopefully, after you’ve dropped the info, your undercover mission will be over and you can get back to what you’re fantastic at : bounty hunting.

“Come on honey! We’re up!”, shouted Iyal’, a young yellow twi’lek that was your only friend among the dancers.

You took your robe off, revealing the provocative outfit and sauntered on stage as your back-up dancers, Iyal’ and another twi’lek, began dancing to the beat of the song. They separated to reveal you to the audience and you began singing.

As you sing and dance sensually to the song, you check out the crowd entranced by your performance in search of the two Jedi. Your gaze lands on the two men sat in a booth near one of the smaller dance platforms and you falter slightly as you recognise him.

“Kriff”

Anakin glances confusingly at his master’s swearing. The usually calm and composed Jedi master was visible flustered at the sight of the beautiful singer on the main stage.

“Master, are you alright ?”

Obi-Wan cleared his throat and readjusted himself so as not to seem affected by the performance. When he was told to meet up with an undercover agent, you were the last person that he had expected to see.

You gave it your all on the final note, the club whistles and applauses your performance. The twi’leks move off-stage as the generic low-bass music returns. You walk off-stage in the direction of the booth.

Nervous butterflies were fluttering around in your stomach despite your confident strut towards the two Jedi. Holy Sith! Why does he have to be so hot? He was already attractive when he was a padawan but the long hair and beard just make him ten times hotter.

As you reach them, you coyly sit next to the older one.

“Of all the places I thought I would see you again Kenobi, this is certainly not one of them”

“Likewise my dear”, he responded coldly.

Anakin furrowed his eyebrows at his master’s cold greeting before introducing himself.

“Pleasure to meet you”, you reply smirking and coyly extending your hand for him to shake. Despite the coldness from Obi-Wan, you still had an act to maintain.

“Anakin, why don’t you go get us both drinks whilst I discuss matters with our informant”, Obi-Wan ordered.

“But-”.

“Now, Anakin.”

He nodded his head towards you both before getting up, slightly concerned at his master’s strange behaviour.

“ Master”, you say as if testing the way it sounded. “It suits you.”

“Yes well ... thank you”, he coughs. You smile slightly, glad you could break his impassiveness, even if only for a moment.“From what I understand, you have some information on a potential terrorist attack”

“It’s always straight to business with you, even when we were younglings”

“I hardly see why that’s a bad thing”

You smirk at him before gently removing a disc hidden in your bra.

“This disc has everything I could gather without being caught”

Obi-Wan briefly glanced down but quickly looked away before you noticed where he was looking.

“Your effort is greatly appreciated by the council”, he curtly replied as he took the disc from you.

You felt disappointed at the lack of reaction. You always knew that if you did ever see him again, the encounter would be at the least awkward, but you still hoped that somewhere deep down, he was happy to see you.

The sound of shouting above the music catches your attention. Anakin was stood with his fists clenched and struggling to stay calm as a Rodian screeched at him. The second you look at the scene, you notice a determined group walk in your direction. You recognise them immediately as henchmen from the separatist group that run the club as cover.

“Fuck, we’ve got to get out of here. Grab Anakin and meet me at the back”. If they figure out that you’re with a Jedi, your cover will be blown. You get up to meet the group of intimidating aliens, still maintaining your flirty persona.

"Hi fellas, what can a gal get ya’ ?" You flirtatiously greet.

" How about two Jedi scum.", growled the big Trandoshan. You try to hide your nervous giggle.

" Oh sugar, if that's what you want, you ain't gonna find any here"

"Really", he stepped closer to you, "then why did we catch you chatting them up." Crap.

"Oh, don't be silly. Those two fellas were just here for a good time. Here, let me grab you fellas some drinks, on the house"

You quickly turn away to escape but the Trandoshan roughly grips onto your arm. You slam your heel into his foot, causing him to yell in pain and let your arm go. Time to get out of here. You start running and pushing through the crowd of semi-drunk club-goers.

"GET AFTER THEM !"

The group draw their blasters and run after you.

You manage to run out into a dark and dirty alleyway with a dead-end.“Not so fast”, two Devaronians block both sides of the alleyway, cutting off your escape route. Oh, crap.

Suddenly the sounds of lightsabers and blaster fire catch your attention. Upon the rooftop, you spot the two Jedi deflecting blasts close to the edge. They make quick work of the thugs attacking before Obi-wan notices the trouble you’re in the alleyway below as the two Devaronians trapping you rush at you.

Without much thought -and to Anakin’s confusion- he calls your name and throws his deactivated lightsaber to you. You catch the lightsaber and ignite, smirking at the two thugs who suddenly stopped at the sight of the blue blade. They start firing their blasters but you gracefully deflect the bolts back to them before swiftly cutting one of the Devaronian’s arm off and roundhouse kick him in the face, incapacitating him. You promptly twist to face the other thug who had stepped back slightly in fear. Swinging the sabre skilfully, you use the force to pull the blaster out of his hand before slamming the hilt into his face, effectively knocking him out.

Both Jedi smoothly leap down from the roof to join you.

“You’re a Jedi ?!”, exclaimed Anakin incredulously.

“Was. I’m not any more.”, you admitted.

“Yes well, let’s get out of here”, said Obi-Wan, quickly cutting off whatever Anakin was about to say to your reply.

The three of you headed out of the alleyway and headed to the parked speeder hidden in the shadows. Upon approaching the speeder, you noticed that only seated two people and stood awkwardly looking at the men, wondering how we were going to get around the problem. Obi-Wan noticed the same issue as you. As Anakin sat in the driver’s seat, he took his place in the passenger’s side and simply patted his lap. You flushed at the action. When you didn’t immediately move, he looked at you with a slight smirk and raised an eyebrow.

Over the past two years, you became used to the flirtatious smirks and sexual remarks from both attractive and unattractive customers whilst working in the seedy club in the lower decks of Coruscant. You were used to dancing provocatively in front of an enraptured audience. But one simple hand gesture from him and suddenly you were blushing mess. You also realised this is the first time that he’s somewhat smiled since seeing him again. This only made you blush more. In an attempt to mask how flustered he made you, you moved to gently sit in his lap. He wrapped his arms around your waist to secure you, making you blush even harder and making the resurfaced butterflies flutter crazily in your stomach but thankfully he couldn’t see your face. Anakin, however, saw the entire exchange but decided not to say anything. He’ll have to question his master later.

Anakin flew the speeder to the Jedi temple, much to your reluctance. After the feeling of disappointing your master by leaving the order, the thought of ever returning made you feel queasy and the warmth of his arms wrapped around you didn’t help. As Anakin landed the speeder, Master Yoda, a blue and white astromech droid and a gold protocol droid greeted you. You stood behind the two Jedi, hoping to be ignored by your former master. No such look as he greeted you :

“Good to see you, it is, my former padawan”

“Master Yoda”, you greeted, bowing in respect, “it has been a long time.”

“Have become a fine Jedi, you would, but become an invaluable ally, instead you have. If correct, your information is, prevent losses, it may. Hmm. Been prepared for your arrival, a room has. Show you the way, C3PO will. Discuss further action with the council, we must. Talk later, we will.”

During the walk to your new room, you ignored the ramblings of the protocol droid as the familiar corridors of the Jedi Temple made you feel nostalgic. You remember the times you and Obi-wan would get in trouble as children. You shared everything with each other. But as you got older, you developed a crush that no amount of meditating would get rid of it. You had to hide your feelings as it was against the code to form attachments. However, it was far too late. You thought by distancing yourself more would make a difference but no matter what you did, his smile, his laughter, everything about him would make your heart flutter. Dismissing the droid once when you reached the room, you decided that a shower was in order.

The sound of the door knocking pulled you from the meditative state you had been in. After your shower, you started your bedtime ritual which included a small meditation session. Since leaving the order, you were no longer obligated to follow their rules and rituals but nothing helped calm you down better than meditating. It was currently three o’clock in the morning and so you definitely were not expecting anyone to come knocking. You opened the door :

“Obi-Wan ?”

“I realise it is far too late and I should be leaving you to rest but I can’t sleep.”

You silently gesture for him to come in before closing the door. As padawans, it wasn’t unusual for one of you to go see the other when we had difficulty sleeping. Nothing had to be said. You started making two cups of tea as he sat on the small couch near the window of your room. He wasn’t wearing his robes but a thin cotton shirt and trousers. For a brief moment, you both felt like padawans again.

As you handed him his tea, he shifted and the moment of nostalgia was over :

“I’ve come to apologise”, he started, “I was unfairly rude to you and I would also like to apologise for blowing your cover”.

“I somehow don’t think it was your fault. Something tells me that they had known about me long before you even turned up”

“You suspect they knew you were a spy ?”

“Yeah, call it a gut feeling”

He nodded in agreement, stroking his beard. You didn’t think he could be any more attractive but the sight of him sat on your couch in his casual clothes made everything seem intimate. You had to tear your gaze away from the hand near his mouth, hoping he didn’t sense what you were feeling.

“I hated being there anyway, so I’m definitely not upset over never having to go back there ever again”

His brows furrowed at your statement :

“More so than here ?”

“What ?”, you reply in confusion.

“I - Did you hate it there more than being at the Temple ?”

You looked at him, wondering why he would ask such a question. Normally, you would just ignore such a question and try to change the subject, but had been a very tiring day and something about the moment just made you want to give in.

“I never hated being at the Temple.”

A heavy silence followed your answer. When you left the order, you promised you would never tell anyone your reasons, afraid of rumours would spread and Obi-Wan’s devotion to the order and the code would be put into question.

“Why did you leave ?”

“Obi-Wan, I-”

“No please. I never understood why you left. I thought you were happy at the Temple. I remember the fun we had as children.”

“Obi-Wan please -”

He gently picked your hands up and held them, gently rubbing the back of your hands with his thumbs. The rough but soft caress of his thumbs made you feel weak and you felt resolve crumble.

“I loved you”, you quietly whispered. Hoping maybe he hadn’t heard you, but the sudden freezing of his thumbs confirmed that he had.“ I tried not to”, you quickly added. “ I tried so hard to be a good Jedi but it didn’t work. If anything it made me love you more. So I left. I didn’t want to ‘corrupt’ you. I knew how much becoming a Jedi Knight meant to you.”

You couldn’t look him in the eye, afraid of what you’ll see. Afraid that he would turn cold again and that it would truly be last time you ever see him again. Instead, you heard him move closer and felt his forehead gently rest against the side of your face. Confused, you gently turn your face to him so both of your foreheads rested against each other. He had his eyes closed and you closed your own. You could feel his warm breath softly flow over your face he slowly leaned in more. His nose brushed softly against yours as his lips pressed to yours. Your lips touched for a few seconds before he leaned in more, deepening the kiss. One of his hands moved up to gently cup your jaw.

After what felt like hours, but probably was only a few minutes, you both separated. You were in a daze and felt on top of the world.

AN : I had to repost this because Tumblr glitched, but anyways here it is. I spent way to much time on this and I’m still not entirely happy with it but I hope you enjoy it !

PS : Please tell me I’m not alone in struggling to find titles for their fanfictions.

#starwars #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan fanfiction #obiwan x reader #obi wan kenobi #padawan anakin #anakin skywalker

[ger-bearofrivia]

Soothe Me, My Dear Heart

Pairing: Jaskier x Bard!Reader 

Summary:  You had heard from the dwarves of what happened up at the mountain between Jaskier and Geralt.You made it your mission to track down your friend and sooth his aching heart. 

A/N; Hello! long time no fic. Im sorry about that I’ve had no creative driver lately these past months and haven't been able to come up with something good to put for you guys. Also I've been really busy with classes, but thankfully I graduate this semester (I hope) and I'll be able to put out some more Pics. As for the CEO Henry fic I've been working on it whenever I get a little spark of creativity and an idea comes up. I hope you guys enjoy the fic. 

You walk into the inn on a hunt looking for someone.

“Hello welcome to The Curious Root Inn and Tavern. What can I help you with? “ the inn keep says

“I’m looking for the bard named Jaskier.”

“Yes, he’s here.” You sigh in relief that you caught him before he could leave. She notices the relief on your face.

"Are you a friend of his?" she asks and you nod.

“The poor thing looked heartbroken. Refused to eat let alone play, he just asked for a room and said nothing else.” She informed.  

"Where is he?"

"Upstairs fourth door on the left."

"Thank you. Oh, and can you prepare some food and bring it up to the room please ” She nods then walks away to place the order. You walk upstairs counting the doors along the way. “2..3..ah 4” you knock on the door and hear a muffled “Go away” from inside. You open the door which to your surprise it’s unlocked. Walking in you see a mass on the bed and assume that It’s Jaskier. Your suspicions were correct as he sits up, gently rubbing the tears from his eyes.  “Jas.”

"Y/n? How did you find me?"

"I’ve been trying to track you down for days. I heard what happened up in the mountain."

"Oh. “ he says quietly looking down at his lap. You slowly walk to the bed and sit next to him, gently placing a hand on his back to rub there.

“We don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want to. We can just sit here quietly until your ready. I’ve ordered the inn keep to prepare some food for you, you look like you haven’t eaten in days.”

Mm.” He hums sadly in agreement.  It breaks your heart to see him like this, he’s never been this quiet even when he’s upset. Whatever Geralt did to him hurt him on a deep emotional level. Yes, Jaskier’s used to people insulting him and his music but Geralt was a friend, someone who Jaskier cared about and looked up to. You take off your boots and sit back on the bed against the headboard. You pulled him close wrapping an arm around him so he could rest his head on your shoulder. You both sat there quietly until there was a soft knock on the door and a barmaid came in, setting the tray of food at the foot of the bed.

“Thank you.” You say tossing a small bag it some coin to her.

“Your welcome my lady, I hope master bard feels well soon. Some patrons were looking forward to his performance.” A part of you felt flattered that people were wanting Jaskier to play but the other was jealous at the blatant flirting she was doing to get Jaskier to feel better. You kind of wish you hadn’t tipped her. How dare she flirt with him when there was clearly to the blind eye something between you two. It’s not like you had an arm around him and his head on your shoulder.

“Well, maybe you should go suit their needs. Now scram.” You bark causing her to hastily leave the room.

“That was mean.” Jaskier croaked

“Well, she was trying to take advantage of you while your hurting. Lucky for her if you weren’t in my arms I’d drag her out by her hair myself.” You exasperated. “Your my friend and you deserve better treatment while hurting.” You let out a sigh.

Friends.

That’s all you two will ever be.

“Now sit up so I can get some food in you. You look as if the grim reaper is coming for you.” His face one plump showing expressions of happiness and laughter have indeed reverted to being hollowed out and lifeless. His skin a sickly shade of white and eyes in a sad tired haze. He sits up in a proper sitting position while his legs crisscrossed. While he did that you dragged the tray closer to the both of you, stirring the stew then tearing a piece of bread.  

"You and Geralt are the two people who mean the most to me. Well, you more than him. He's pretty much dead to me."

"Jaskier honey, don’t say that. We both know that he means a lot to you. You wouldn't have traveled with him for twenty years. That's half your life Jask and whatever he might have said to you he didn't mean it. He pretends he's all tough and macho but in reality, he's broken and you were an easy target to blame all of his mess-ups on." your voice was soft trying to comfort him with the soothing tone.

"How do you know all this?" he askes kind of confused how exactly you knew about what happened up on the mountain.  

I was performing at the tavern when the dwarves came in. They said there was a massacre at the top of the mountain and the witcher had argued with the which and then screamed at you. I also asked if you'd come down with them and they said yes and that you were outside of the tavern but by the time I got outside you had left. ” you finish dipping another piece of bread in the stew then handed it to him.

So you came after me.” he smiled softly taking the soaked bread from you and putting it in his mouth.

Yeah, the second I saw that you weren't there I packed my things, grabbed my payment, and head out after you. I knew you'd be heading towards Oxenfurt and that you were at least one or two hours ahead of me.  

Thank you. I don't know what I’d without you.

Mm crash and burn” you joked.

He chuckles leaning to the side bumping your shoulders.  ”Oh shut up you love me.”

”Yeah, I do, now eat.” he takes a spoon full of stew into his mouth swallowing slowly.

”Y/n.”

”yes jas?”

”thank you. For everything over the years, for being here now.” he whispers eyes watery.

”Hey, hey I'll always be here for you. You mean the world to me and that’ll never change. You’ve been my best friend forever and I love you, I’d probably even kill for you.”

He smiles looking down his shoulders slumping down. “Y/n can I try something.” He asks lifting his head looking at you straight in the eyes. His shining blue eyes would dart down to look at your lips.

Oh, this is it. Is it finally going to happen?

“I’m going to do something but if it makes you uncomfortable and you want to stop that’s okay. I just hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship.”

“Jaskier”

“Yes?”

“Kiss me.”

“Okay,” his voice was trembling. The corners of your lips perk into a smile as you roll your eyes pulling him by the collar of his chemise into a kiss. It wasn’t a long kiss but definitely one that revealed your feelings towards him. It was short and sweet but strangely at the same time passionate and demanding. It made you crave more. You separate. “Wow that was” he starts

“Incredible.” you finish

“Yeah. Absolutely mind-blowing actually.” You could see the blush start to form on his face, feeling the familiar warmth on yours as well.

“Not bad on your part either. Could need a little more practice from your end but overall an alright kiss. “

“Hey I am a wonderful kisser” he interjects making you laugh.

“Jaskier I was kidding the kiss was incredible. Did you not hear that part?” You giggle

"I heard it but my mind is going a mile a second and I’m trying to get my thoughts straight."

"I can tell," you smirk.

"Does this mean you have feelings for me?"

"Yes, Jas it does. For a while actually"

"I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you because your feelings got hurt. Because I’m not."

“Sweet Melitele get this thing off of me!” he claws at the bowl of still full stew on his lap. You remove it along with the tray by setting it at the foot of the bed. He grabs your face kissing you again, this time more forcibly. “You’ll never wold be taking advantage of me, my love. Yeah, I'm emotionally hurting from what that oaf said but that’ll never change what I feel for you. You have a special place in my heart y/n. Nothing can change that."

"Good. This will be the greatest ballet yet."

"Not if I can write one better." you smiled

#the witcher jaskier #the witcher #the witcher x reader #jas #Jaskier #jaskier x reader #jaskier x you #jaskier fic #jaskier fanfic #jaskier angst

[ushiwhore]

Hey can I request Ushiwaka fluff when they both are captains and live together. A busy day in their life where they visit each other at practice and come back home.

Home is Where You Are

Ushijima x Reader , Oneshot!

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 2,870

A/N:​ ooo, First. Ever. Request!! @im-cold-so-gimme-your-hoodie Thank you for sending one in, I hope this doesn't disappoint!! Sorry this one took a while, but thanks again! Enjoy!!!!

You were snuggled up in his arms, the warm blanket wrapped nicely around you two as you slept peacefully. That is, until the dreadful noise filled the room. You let out a small whine, burying your face into his chest some more, trying your hardest to avoid the responsibilities that awaited both of you. 

A small whine left your lips again when you felt him pull away from the warm embrace, reaching over to turn off the alarm. Once Ushijima got up, you knew there was no way he was going back to sleep.

“Toshi please.. come back.” There was a pout on your lips as you watched him sit up, lazily rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. 

He turned to look at you and smiled softly. That smile alone already had you feeling motivated to start the day. 

“Y/N, we’re both captains. We have our responsibilities, and we can't be late. If we weren't captains, I'd come back to bed, you know that.” He leaned in to leave a small peck on your lips. The pout persisted but you knew he was right. It also sounded so strange, the idea of Shiratorizawa having another captain for the VBC. Ushi did such a good job, it'd be hard to find a replacement. It also seemed like you two had this same conversation every morning. You always wanted more Toshi cuddles, and he always gave you a blunt response explaining why that wasn't possible right now, but that you’d get them after your busy day was over. That, and the fact that you loved your team, gave you the motivation to push through your days and get all your tasks done.

“Mm.. just because you asked so nicely.” You joked as you sat up, rubbing your eyes and following suit as he got up to get dressed. It was routine for you two to go for an early morning jog to get you all warmed up for morning practice.

Once you two were dressed and you had both brushed your teeth, you were both walking out of your apartment, hand in hand. 

You wouldn’t run a mile, perhaps half a mile just to truly wake you two up. Then you’d head back home and have some breakfast to serve as fuel for the morning practice that lay ahead for you two. 

You made sure to always have some lunches prepared for him and for yourself. As captains you both were often occupied with your team duties, along with school duties, and it wasn’t uncommon for both of you to forget to eat all your meals. So it was always sweet whenever Toshi packed lunches or vice versa. 

There was always those 10 minutes after you two finished breakfast and before you two had to head off to school for morning practice. Those 10 minutes were cherished by both of you since you most likely wouldn’t see much of each other until after practice was over in the afternoon. 

You held his hands, gently massaging them. Your fingers ran across the callous that had formed on the palm of his hand, making them feel rougher yet still quite smooth to the touch. It was a soothing tradition you two would usually do during these 10 cherished minutes. 

He’d often do the same for you, making sure to ask if you had any pain on the parts he’d gently press on. It always made your heart melt as you watched him carefully massage your hands, getting them warmed up for the practice that awaited you. 

Once those 10 minutes were over, you two would walk to school together, hand in hand before you had to part ways, headed to separate gyms for separate practices. 

It was always so hard, parting ways and not having him beside you. However, his passion for the sport and his teammates was so contagious. Even though you loved your teammates and the sport itself, the idea of leaving Toshi always sucked since you loved the man so much.

He's always so eager to get started on practice, eager to improve his skills, eager to see his teammates grow. One of Toshi’s amazing qualities. He might not show it, and maybe his teammates don’t notice it.. But you do. And that alone is motivation enough for you to let his hand go, giving him one last kiss before parting ways and heading to your own practice. 

°•°•°•°•°

There were days when practice wouldn't be as fun or interesting as it usually was. This was one of those days. The coach had been going a bit harder on the team due to some errors he had noticed in a previous game. Even as a captain, there wasn't much you could do to save the team from a good scolding, a few laps around the court, and 100 serves.

It was clear to you that your team was exhausted, their serves no longer coming out as great as they usually would. Defense wasn't strong. Everything seemed to be slowly falling apart. You bit at your lower lip, trying to figure out what to say to truly get the team's spirit back up. Get them all to be comfortable with the energy created in the gym today.

You called for a water break and asked them to huddle up with their water bottles. The exhaustion was clear once they were all up close, the sweat clinging to every part of their bodies along with their tired eyes told you to make this quick so they could peacefully enjoy the remainder of their break. 

"I know you guys are probably tired, and probably also bummed out with our performance at our last game..” there was a few mumbles that told you they completely agreed with that, “and maybe the coach's method isn't making you feel any better. But please remember it was a practice game. Practice makes what?"

You paused, and heard a few teammates mumble "Practice makes perfect.." which immediately brought a smile onto your face.

"Exactly. We may not have been at our best then, but that's why we learn from that game and improve what we did wrong last time. I know you guys are capable of that. We are unstoppable, after all. Next time we play them, they won't even know what hit them."

As you looked around, it was quite obvious the energy in the room had become better already. There were small smiles on their lips as they nodded, some starting to talk about what they noticed they were lacking at the practice game, others discussing what the other team had done that caught them off guard.

The pride in your chest expanded as you watched them discuss ways they could stop it from happening again, and then pairing up to practice certain techniques.

Eventually, your eyes drifted from your teammates to a figure that had been standing near the entrance while you gave your speech. Unsure of who had let them in or if they were looking for something or someone.

You were met with the sight of Wakatoshi, sweat clinging to his forehead, his team jacket draped around his shoulders, and the smallest smile on his lips. You smiled before walking over to him.

"Toshi- you came.." you immediately felt all soft and mushy. Usually, he'd still be stuck at practice, or you wouldn't see him until you two walked home together. But here he was, standing in front of you, as gorgeous as ever.

"Coach let us off earlier and I thought I'd stop by." He wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you in for a hug. A small whine escaped your lips since you were all sweaty, but he didn't seem to mind, which only made your cheeks heat up even faster. It didn't take long for you to hug back, snuggling your face into his chest.

PDA with Toshi nowadays was always at a max. When you two had first started dating, he kept his respectful distance and didn't engage in much PDA, both of you a bit shy and new to all of this. But as time went by, he became needy and always wanted to have his hands on you. Whether that meant hugging, holding hands, or simply having an arm around you. Sitting on his lap was always something he enjoyed and encouraged.

Anyone who was friends with you two had learned to get used to the PDA, not that it was too much to ask for since it never went to the extremes. But they'd always joke around and tell you two to get a room.

"I heard your speech."

You immediately looked up at him, the heat now spreading everywhere. "Oh- was it good?"

He smiled and nodded. "I should take some notes. Your team's mood completely changed.”

It was compliments like these that always made you feel so much better about being captain. You had earned the position and were apparently doing well. Confirmed by Toshi himself, so it must be true.

"Thank you, Toshi~ it really means a lot." A small pout appeared on your lips due to how soft you were at the moment. You gently cupped his cheeks and pressed a kiss onto his lips. He gladly kissed back, enjoying your presence while he could.

You pulled away, looking at the clock. The water break would be ending soon and you'd have to return to practice.

"I've gotta go back, but we're almost done. Do you want to stay and watch so we can walk home together?"

He nodded, "I wasn't planning on leaving without you."

Blunt as always, Ushijima. You smiled at that comment, nodding back and giving him one last kiss. "I'll be back soon. I promise."

And with that, you were off to practice. A bounce to your step, more motivation added now that your lovely boyfriend was here to watch your team's practice. You couldn't wait to show him just how awesome this team was. Though he already knew.

°•°•°•°•°

Though there were bad practice days, most were fun and quite productive. Today was one of those days. It was a Friday and the coach decided to reward you all by dismissing practice earlier. Though you were tired and could definitely use a nap, your thoughts immediately went to Ushijima. You wanted to see your boyfriend, definitely walk home together, and certainly nap together.

You made your way to the gym where their team was practicing, quite eager to see him. It had been a long day, and seeing him during lunch wasn't enough. Once you got to the gym, you quietly pushed the doors open, letting yourself in since this definitely was not your first time doing this.

The team was used to you coming around the time their practice ended, waiting for Toshi so you two could walk home together. Or perhaps coming to give him something he had forgotten. The team all loved you since they got to see a new side of Ushijima whenever you were there. The soft side. The side that peppered kisses all over your face and whispered how much he had missed you throughout the day.

The thought alone made you crave your boyfriend's touch. You'd get it soon enough. Patience was key in these situations.

As you walked into the gym quietly, you were right on time to see the famous Ushijima spike. It never failed to amaze you just how talented he was. Was there anything he couldn't do?

You stood near the entrance, not really wanting to disturb practice since it would probably upset Washijo sensei.

"Y/N!!" You flinched at the sudden scream of your name. It was Goshiki. That brought a small smile on your face as he waved, the rest of the team soon joining in and waving as well, even Shirabu was waving with a smile. Your eyes went to Ushijima, who was smiling as well. The sight alone made your stomach flip. He was so pretty. Too pretty for his own good.

Luckily, after they greeted you, they went straight back to practice. Even Washijo sensei had greeted you, probably already used to you arriving around this time to wait for Ushijima.

Once practice was over, he walked over to you with his water bottle. You smiled softly as he approached, meeting him halfway and wrapping your arms around him, resting your face comfortably in his chest. You had missed him so much.

"Ready to head home?" He asked.

"Please. I want to shower and take a nap with you."

"Sounds good."

It definitely was a sight to see. Shiratorizawa's captains snuggled up, shamelessly hugging and kissing as they talked about how much they had missed each other and asking if they had eaten, how their day was, everything. Whispering sweet nothings, before intertwining their fingers and walking out of the gym together, eagerly heading home.

°•°•°•°•°

Getting home from a long day of practice and other responsibilities was possibly the best feeling ever. Walking in, taking your shoes off, setting your bags down, slumping down onto the couch for a few minutes before one of you got the motivation to get up to prep the shower.

Yes. Showering together was essential to ending the day right. After a whole day of nonstop moving, it was nice to be able to wash off all the sweat and just enjoy that moment of intimacy.

You'd pour some shampoo onto the palm of your hand, making sure not to drop it before reaching and gently starting to apply the shampoo onto his hair. He made sure to always lower his head to make it easier for you to apply it onto his hair. Your fingers gently massaged his scalp, and you couldn't help but smile at the sight of him with his eyes closed, enjoying your touch.

You'd soon help him wash it off, making sure to warn him that there was still shampoo on his hair, or when he could open his eyes. The first time he had gotten shampoo in his eye was devastating. Toshi in pain was a big no no.

Of course, he'd apply shampoo onto your hair for you as well. It was a mutual thing, always full of affection. You two would take such good care of each other. Making sure you were both nice and clean before wrapping a towel around yourselves and rushing to your room to change into comfortable clothing.

After that much needed shower, you'd find yourself sitting on Toshi's lap as you two ate dinner. Though there was a working chair for you to sit at, you found yourself most comfortable with this seat, Toshi's lap. You fed him his food, and he'd feed you yours as well, both making sure the other ate. Making sure you were both full and your stomachs were happy.

After dinner came brushing your teeth together. You'd be standing beside each other, staring at each other through the mirror with soft smiles and tired eyes. Sometimes you'd lean your head onto his arm or shoulder, already feeling the tiredness creeping up on you. It didn't take long for you two to finish and head straight to your room.

You'd both plop down onto the bed, immediately going under the covers and cuddling up with each other. The warmth of the bed and Toshi combined made your eyes close instantly. His chest was so warm. He smelled so good. He was just.. so comfy. Cuddly Toshi was arguably the best Toshi.

You cuddled up with him some more, leaning in and placing lazy kisses all over his jaw and neck, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. The sensation made him let out a small chuckle. The sound itself brought you so much joy, making you open your eyes, once again craving the sight of your boyfriend. You were met with the prettiest smile ever. You loved seeing him smile. It was a sight seen mainly by you, caused by you. His smile was so contagious. You found yourself smiling back as he gently cupped your cheek and leaned in to kiss you. One kiss turned into 5, and 5 turned into 20. Those kisses were all so soft. His lips were soft. They were addictive. Being in his arms was addicting.

"I love you so much, Toshi." You said as he finally pulled away, now settling with cuddling you as he closed his eyes, only for them to open again at your words.

"I love you too, Y/N. So much." You stared at him adoringly for a few seconds, gently caressing his soft cheek before simply cuddling up with him again.

"Goodnight, Toshi~"

"Goodnight, Y/N."

And with that, you two were fast asleep, comfortable in each other's arm.

This was your daily routine. Sometimes it might be tiring, some days it might not go as planned. But knowing that you'd get to do all this with him made any struggles you might face durable. Made getting through anything possible. Why? Because at the end of the day, you had Ushijima Wakatoshi. You’d get to come home to him. And that was more than enough.

A/N: Hello!! You've made it to the end. I'd just like to say.. sorry again that this took so long ): I hope you enjoyed it though. I really enjoyed writing this since.. well.. I may or may not like Ushijima (: Ushi fluff Ushi fluff!! AH. Feel free to send in requests!! ALSO- last thing- this has been done for a while but I didn’t have access to my computer and couldn’t seem to add the ‘Keep Reading’ on mobile?? That was super annoying );

#haikyuu #hq #hq fanfic #hq ushijima #ushijima x reader #ushijima fluff #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #pls i am soft #ushiwaka #wakatoshi x you #fluffy fluff fluff #haikyuu fluff #pls i love him

[aelaer]

First: welcome home & I hope you get the sleep you need to get back into your routines! Second: it's Feb. 2, a significant day to our beloved Stephen Strange. I know you're exhausted right now, and the timing is poor--but perhaps when you're up to, you could write a little one-shot about his feelings all these years later (is it 2022 or 2023?) on the anniversary of the accident that changed his life forever. Can't think of anyone better suited to write it! xx

This was sent a year ago but last month I planned to have it out for Feb 2nd, hah.

For canon, he comes back in 2023 in what I think was likely after Feb 2nd, so realistically he can address the anniversary again in 2024. It'd feel like only 3 years for him while, in actuality, it'd been 8. But when it comes to his experienced time versus actual passing time, Stephen's pretty messed up without the Decimation already (I'm not sure how I feel about the name of the "Blip" yet.)

The prompter also requested first person after I asked for more details, and I haven't ever written Stephen in first person so I thought I'd give it a go. I know first person isn't everyone's cup of tea, but if you're willing to give it a shot, call me very obliged.

Warning for canon compliance :P

——————

Staring Back In Time Rating: G (well, other than language)

An entry from the memoirs of Doctor Stephen Strange, Earth's Sorcerer Supreme, during his time as the Master of the New York Sanctum, several months after the Battle of Earth against Thanos:

February 2, 2024

Calendars don't mean as much as they used to. Once upon a time my life was ruled by the calendar. Consultation here, surgery there, society dinner over the weekend. Dates were important and generally set without change once marked down.

It doesn't work that way as a sorcerer. I keep a schedule, of course, one that marks down classes with apprentices and adepts and meetings with other Masters, never mind all the business outside of Kamar-Taj. But I learned early on that these set times shifted occasionally to accommodate the emergencies that the order often had to quash down, and it became obvious that as a Master, my schedule was more of a hopeful guideline than anything set in stone. Flexibility was a necessity.

Ever since my return to the living, keeping anything resembling a set schedule has been more of a laughable dream. Earth being the center of two universe-changing, Infinity Stone-powered events in a matter of hours did serious damage to the fabric woven about reality across the planet, and the Masters of the Mystic Arts are going to be dealing with the multidimensional repercussions for years to come. Nothing is predictable in my day-to-day anymore.

My relationship with time was fucked the moment I confronted Dormammu, so I can't say it's a large surprise that calendars have become mostly irrelevant.

If someone had told me that I, Doctor Stephen Strange, a man of order and precision, would learn to live with such unpredictability, I would have laughed in their face. But I'm not the man I once was (and thank God for that; that man was a dick). However, it's also because of this change that I didn't realize the day until it was nearly done.

I was reviewing my schedule for tomorrow, which I had set up on Google Calendar (Google had, naturally, survived the Decimation just fine, but like most other non-vital services, had many of their upcoming products delayed for years. But their email and calendar services continue to work great). Tomorrow's a Saturday, which means nothing in my world. My work continues on. The threats on our reality care little for weekends or holidays.

Still, it was only during this review, shortly before I planned to retire for the night, that I realized that today is February 2nd.

I won't ever forget the day, of course. It was both three years ago and eight years ago—or perhaps many lifetimes ago would be a more accurate description, though I lost track of time in both of my major journeys with the Time Stone. One day I'll write about them. Not now, but one day. Both memories are still too fresh.

The memory of the day of the accident, though? It feels both like yesterday and centuries ago. Some parts of the day are engraved in my memory like a film. I remember the last surgery down to the individual conversations. Christine's "thank you". Nick's watch. The cling of the bullet as I dropped it onto the tray.

I can remember my last conversation with Billy, too, in the car. Every damned word. But the drive itself is fuzzy, even in my head with my memory. I remember it began to rain during the drive, not beforehand, and I know the road was narrow and two-laned. I know I avoided a direct route to avoid traffic, driving first into Jersey before heading north and crossing the river again. But the rest is forgotten to time, or perhaps to trauma.

I was told that Billy was the first to call 9-1-1 as he heard the tearing of metal and shattering of glass before the connection was lost. The driver I hit—I learned much later that she escaped with only minor injuries—called a couple minutes later. But it was out in the mountains, dark, and raining. It took them hours to find me and extract me from the car.

Funny. Never thought I'd ever write about one of the worst days of my life like this. But I was told early on that personal journals were encouraged for all who stay in Kamar-Taj. Something about its therapeutic benefits was mentioned at some point. I only picked up the practice once I learned that each gifted journal was inaccessible to others until the time of their death, and after I mastered the art of enchanting a pen to write the words I spoke. Unfortunately this journal appeared to others after the Decimation, but Wong has reassured me that no one read it and it has since disappeared again from public view. 

Still, the point is that, one day, someone just might read this—account of a man who was part of an effort to save the universe. And it is difficult for a reader to judge my actions if they don't know how I was the one who ruined my life. My driving was reckless and stupid. I was running a little late, but it wouldn't have mattered in the long run had I been fifteen, twenty minutes, thirty minutes late. Not really.

Then again, I suppose it would have. I certainly wouldn't be here right now.

One could say that the accident and everything that has followed is some sort of penance for my hubris as a surgeon. I enjoy my newer abilities—quite a bit—but the responsibility that has come with them has not come without its own hardships and sacrifices. Perhaps the worst of the sacrifices were the ones I was unable to prevent others from performing, all for the sake of the universe.

Those sacrifices were made willingly, but I cannot help but feel responsible for them, regardless. 

During my first winter again returned to the living, when the days grew colder and my hands ached in the bad weather, and the only thoughts to accompany the pain were bitter, another thought was born. I was tempted, for the first time in a long time, to give it all up, restore my fine motor skills with channeled magic, and go back to the world I once knew, for a life much, much easier than this one is now. Even with all the troubles that had cropped up as people tried to reorganize a world that doubled in size overnight, it was miles away from the difficulties we were facing in Kamar-Taj.

Their sacrifices—the fates I pushed so many people towards—quelled the idea quickly. It did little to ease the physical pain or sting of guilt, but it lifted the temptation. And ever since that day, I have considered the situation and I don't think I will ever be tempted by the idea of giving up my duties for an easier, pain-free life again.

And I suppose that counts for something.

——————

(Hey look, my interest in geography's leaked again.)

I've always wondered where Stephen actually crashed mostly because New York City is *flat* and those mountains were *very much not flat*. I figured out the bridge that he crossed to get out of the city (there are like, 21 bridges that lead out of Manhattan) was the George Washington Bridge, and it leads to New Jersey—but that's not necessarily useful because it can quickly turn back into New York state if you turn north. We also know he crashed down into a body of water, which *might* be the Hudson, but also might not, but that the body of water is to his left, which narrows it down a bit. But again, not much. And the site of his crash is so dark in the videos and screenshots that I can barely tell what's on it. It looks like a bridge and some industrial building, so the Hudson's a good guess, but otherwise? Well, basically I turned on the topography part of Google maps and started searching.

The 202 on the east side of the river just north of Peekskill (again in New York) matches the movie road's windiness, height, and closeness to the river, and even has a bridge that could be just to the north of the crash site. Unfortunately the railing's off and there's no industrial building thingy by the bridge. It also makes the route out of the city via George Washington Bridge make no sense. Like the Stark Industries area in LA in the films, it's probably a completely fictional landscape.

But as I wasn't able to find a better locale that was still close enough to NYC to direct an emergency helicopter to, my headcanon for this scene is that he left via George Washington bridge to avoid some major traffic or something, crossed the river via the 287 a bit further up north to get back to the east side of the river, then went up the 9 to the 202. Unless someone who lives in the area can find the actual road he was driving (if it's real), this is what I'm gonna go with. (And if someone DOES please let me knowwwww). Funny enough, I don't see him getting led to *his* hospital totally unrealistic, because he'd need a very talented orthopedic surgeon with a specialty in hands to come in, and generally speaking a patient can be helicoptered to another hospital where such a surgeon is available. If Stephen is working at the Metro-General, it's likely they can afford a large cast of talented surgeons. So I don't think Nick was necessarily the lead surgeon in his case, just one of many necessary surgeons.

#sobeautifullyobsessed #stephen strange #doctor strange fanfiction #doctor strange #mcu fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction #gen fic #ask #answered #prompt fill

[ivarthebadbitch]

Strange things can happen

Chapter 7 summary: Aldreda and Ivar have a cultural exchange. Ivar hatches a plan of his own.

Canon divergent, everybody lives, arranged marriage AU after 4x14. Read this chapter on Ao3.

Previous chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6]

On Ao3: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6]

Pairings: Ivar x OC, Ivar vs. basically everyone

Warnings: None

Word count: 1856

Notes: I 100% made up the “cultural” stuff in this chapter, don’t get mad at me.

Tagged: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @nukyster-blog @bae-roman @adhdnightmare (let me know if you would like to be tagged)

CHAPTER 7: Maybe someday

With the majority of the Mercian rebels either killed, captured, or fled, a treaty skewed heavily in favor of Wessex was swiftly drawn up and signed by the victorious and defeated parties. Aldreda’s father was clearly pleased with the turn of events, and he allowed her, Aethelred, Alfred, and Ivar to witness the signing. Afterwards, he hugged Aldreda and her brothers and even gave Ivar an awkward pat on the shoulder.

As everyone else began packing up camp outside to return home, Aldreda and Ivar lingered to look at the treaty. “So that’s it, then?” Ivar asked. He turned the piece of parchment sideways and frowned. “This chicken scratch is the agreement between Wessex and Mercia? A good rain would wash the ink right out. Or I could tear it in half. And then...no more treaty.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please don’t. My father is already upset with you.”

“I just think it is a stupid way to make an agreement. It’s just parchment. It doesn’t mean anything.”

She took the treaty out of his hands in case he changed his mind and decided to tear it up. Or eat it. “So how would your people do it, then?”

“Easy. You make your agreement and swear an oath, and then you perform a sacrifice so that the gods will be witnesses to it and show favor. Usually a goat.” He regarded her thoughtfully and then shook his head. “Well, I see the problem. You Christians don’t do sacrifices. How does your god know when you make an agreement?”

“Maybe He reads it over later,” Aldreda said dryly. “The whole reason to write it down and sign it is to record the details of the agreement so that all parties can be held to account if they break it. What happens if you make an agreement with someone, take an oath, perform a sacrifice, and later on the other person claims that you agreed to something else?”

Ivar shrugged. “Challenge him to single combat for lying. Then you kill him and take his land and his wife as your own.”

“Ah. Of course,” she said. “Well, then, what about us? You and I made an agreement, but we did not perform a sacrifice as your people would do, so your gods don’t recognize it. Nor did we write it down.”

“That is true.” He gave her a thoughtful look, even though she hadn’t been entirely serious. “So what do you want to do about it?”

“Write it down,” she said on impulse, reaching for the quill and ink pot left on the table. She took her small prayer book out of her pocket and flipped to the blank final page. Near the bottom, she wrote in small, neat letters: Ivar and Aldreda have an agreement. She signed her name underneath and handed the quill to Ivar.

He took it hesitantly. “I can’t write,” he said.

She pointed out his name on the page. “Just try to copy this,” she told him.

He studied his name for a moment, frowning, and then he set the quill to the parchment and laboriously drew the letters. They came out crooked and wobbly, but it was undeniably his name, and she felt a sudden surge of pride. “It takes practice, but not so bad, right?” she said as she tucked the book back inside her pocket.

“No,” he said. He sounded a little surprised. “So, we wrote it down like you wanted. Now we should make a sacrifice.”

She arched an eyebrow. “I am not sacrificing a goat. I hope you will understand.”

“It doesn’t have to be a goat.” He pulled out a knife.

Aldreda hesitated, and he rolled his eyes at her. “Don’t look at me like that. What, do you really think I’d kill you? Right here in the middle of your father’s camp? Even if I wanted to, I’m not that stupid. We can use your knife if you want. I know you have one.”

She did have one, but that was beside the point. She watched as he nicked his index finger with a small hiss. Then he held out the knife to her, handle first, and after a moment she accepted it from him and followed suit. He took her hand and pressed their fingers together. It felt strangely intimate. She could feel her face turning red.

“There,” he said. “Now our oath is sealed in blood.”

He wiped his bloody finger on his pants while she pressed down on hers to stop the bleeding. “I thought you were going to tell me to lick your finger or something,” she joked. “Don’t you pagans drink blood?”

He looked up in surprise. “Oh, of course, we can do that too if you want.”

“Ah...no. That won’t be necessary. Thank you.”

                                                            ***

A plan began taking shape in Ivar’s mind in earnest as they made their slow and bumpy way back to Wessex. To make his way home to Kattegat, he would need somebody to help smuggle him many miles to the coast and get him on a boat. The only reason anyone in this place would do that would be for a substantial amount of money. So he needed to find someone greedy. Or, even better—someone desperate. And beyond that, he needed a bribe, since his fellow conspirator would not be satisfied with empty promises. He would want to see payment upfront. Something valuable enough to make it worth the risk.

His eyes went to Aldreda’s gold necklace.

“You look thoughtful,” she said in an amused voice, and he almost jumped. Though they had started this trip to Mercia bickering, at some point along the way he could feel something had changed between them. It made him a little uneasy that he was beginning to actually like her company, and that she seemed to like his more and more. But he couldn’t allow that to be a distraction.

“That priest your father sent to teach me,” he said. “Father...Wilfred, I think. Why did Aethelwulf choose him?”

“I suppose because he knows your language,” she said with a shrug.

“Not as some sort of punishment for him, then.”

“Well, now that you say that…” She frowned and then leaned forward and lowered her voice, even though it was just the two of them in the carriage. “There was a scandal a few months back. Father Wilfred and a few other priests were caught gambling using church funds. My grandfather and the bishop decided to be merciful because his skill in Norse and in Frankish is useful, but he had to pay back the funds he had stolen, which I believe was a substantial amount. It is possible that teaching you is also part of his penance.”

Perfect. Ivar forced himself to keep his expression neutral. He couldn’t give her any hint of what he was planning to do. “I would like to continue my lessons with Father Wilfred,” he said. “I want to know more about your religion.”

Aldreda stared at him in surprise, and for a moment, he thought she would see right through his subterfuge. But then she unexpectedly gave him a warm smile. “I will tell my father; he will be pleased to hear it.” She added almost shyly, “And I am pleased to hear it too.”

He blushed and looked away, unable to stop himself. She looked happier than he had ever seen her in the past several weeks since they had married. 

“Oh, but Ivar—” she said—had she called him by his name before now?—“don’t torment the poor priest like you did last time. If you want some parchment to gnaw on, I’m sure we can find some scraps around.”

She was actually teasing him. Somehow, he didn’t mind. He rolled his eyes at her but smiled back. “Fine. I promise.”

Aldreda leaned back in her seat and gave him an almost hesitant look. “Will you tell me about your home?” she asked shyly. “I’ve never been outside of Wessex, except for this trip.”

“Kattegat?” He took a moment to think about what to say. “The city is on the edge of the bay, surrounded by mountains. It was small when I was born, not much more than a fishing village—that was before my father became king. When I was a child, of course, I thought it was the entire world. Now it’s much bigger and merchants come from all over to sell things. You see all kinds of people there, not like here.

“It gets cold in the winters, but in the great hall where my parents sit, it is always warm,” he continued. “Everyone gathers in there for meetings and feasts. In the summer, I would go with my brothers to the hunting cabin in the mountains to fish and hunt deer and rabbits. The forest there is so thick that even during the middle of the day, it always stays cool and dark…”

There was more he could tell her about Kattegat, like the excitement of the horns blowing when ships arrived in the harbor, or how the hills were carpeted with purple wildflowers in spring, or about the secret waterfall where he sometimes went swimming with his brothers. His heart suddenly felt tight in his chest as he remembered all the things he missed from home. He wondered what his family was doing without him and how long it would take before they no longer noticed his absence. It was almost unbearable to think about.

“Sometimes we sacrifice goats, that sort of thing,” he finally finished, just to make her laugh. “We’re heathens, after all.”

“I’d like to see it,” she sighed. “Not the sacrificing goats part, but everything else. Perhaps my grandfather will allow it someday.”

It was wishful thinking and they both knew it. He allowed himself to imagine what that would be like anyway. His brothers would tease them mercilessly and his mother would initially be suspicious since she had never approved of the marriage in the first place, but with time they would be won over. And perhaps Aldreda would like to see the ocean, since there was none at Ecbert’s court in Winchester. She was sure to be surprised by the size of the mountains. 

He shook his head. That was never going to happen. He was going to find a way to get home and that would be the end of it, and it would be better for both of them. She could marry again, this time to someone more suitable. She might be upset about it for a little while, and then she would move on. 

“Maybe someday,” he ended up telling her. “But you should improve your Norse first. Your accent is horrible.”

They didn’t speak much after that, but after a little while, she reached out and took his hand. Then, she hesitantly leaned forward and kissed him quickly on the lips. She sat back, blushing furiously—he was certain his face was as red as hers was—and looked away. 

Still, she kept holding on to his hand. He couldn’t quite bring himself to let go.

#vikings #ivar the boneless #fanfiction #fic: strange things can happen

[imaginetonyandbucky]

The Buy In

Chapter 6: A New Hope

by @dracusfyre

A week or so later, Bucky met KT up for their usual shift and was surprised to see that the normally taciturn man was visibly excited, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waited. “What’s up?” Bucky asked, curiosity driving him to jog across traffic to see what had KT so worked up.

“It’s Community Appreciation Day,” KT said, jerking his head towards Tony’s garage a few blocks away. His legs were shorter than Bucky’s but excitement was making him walk fast enough that Bucky had to make an effort to keep up.

“Community Appreciation Day?” Bucky repeated incredulously. "What is that?"

"What does it sound like, doofus?" KT said, but he was in too good of a mood for his words to have any heat.

Bucky shook his head. Of course Tony had community appreciation days. At this point he wouldn’t be surprised if Tony had an EEOC office and regular OSHA inspections and celebrated Office Professional's Day. "I'm just surprised I hadn't heard of it before now."

“Yeah, they're usually on real short notice. The Engineer brought in a shipment late last night so the Boss spread the word that we were having a party.”

Now Bucky was even more confused. He knew from the case file that the Engineer ran Tony’s chop shop operations, stealing high end automobiles and helping them disappear, whole or in pieces, on the black market. What that had to do with appreciating the community Bucky had no idea; it’s not like Tony was giving away the cars he stole…right? 

When they nodded to Tony’s guards and pushed open the door to the garage, Bucky’s jaw dropped. In the wide open space, where there was usually a variety of half-built classic cars, there was instead half a dozen sleek, low slung cars that looked like they were breaking the speed limit just sitting there. He recognized the logo for Ferrari and Lamborghini but the rest he’d never even heard of before. Most of them had their hoods up for car enthusiasts to drool over the high-performance engines and Bucky felt his heart start to beat faster as he left KT behind to look at the Lamborghini. He hadn’t really had his hands on a car engine since he joined the Army, other than doing his own routine maintenance, but looking at the ridiculously high-powered engine on this car was like seeing the face of God.

“Look at you, you sexy beast,” Bucky murmured, running a hand over the gleaming engine block. It was like it had barely been driven, it was so clean. “You’re sex on wheels, that’s what you are.”

“Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just really into cars?”

Bucky turned and his heart flipped when he saw Tony smiling at him, wearing a suit with an AC/DC shirt underneath. Tony pushed his glasses up onto his head and leaned his hip on the car’s bumper, hands in his pockets as he studied Bucky with what looked like fond amusement. “This thing is like the Mona Lisa of cars,” Bucky said, feeling strangely shy. This was the first time he’d seen Tony since the night of the ball and he suddenly, stupidly, wished he had shaved and worn his nice jeans.

“This one is nice,” Tony agreed, “but that one is my favorite.” He gestured with his chin towards the bright red Ferrari across the room, scissor doors opened up and away from the car like fiery wings.

“I can see that, it’s definitely your style.”

“Follow me, one came in that I think is your style,” Tony said, pushing off the car.

“Yeah?” Bucky was intrigued and flattered as Tony led him through the crowd of people. “Which one- Jesus fucking Christ on a cracker,” he blurted when they stopped in front the most goddamn beautiful car he’d ever seen.

“The Bugatti La Voiture Noire,” Tony said, but his eyes were on Bucky’s face, not the car. “0 to 60 in 2.5 seconds, with 1,180 pounds of torque. Top speed of 261 miles an hour.”

Bucky whistled, long and low. “It looks like the Batmobile,” he said, smiling when he surprised a laugh out of Tony. “If a ninja was a car, it would be this car.”

Tony started to say something, but at that moment came the sound of someone tapping on a microphone. “Hello?” Bucky heard someone say. “Mr. Stark, are you ready?”

With an apologetic glance to Bucky, Tony jogged up to where they had made a makeshift stage out of a metal table. Tony climbed on top and took the microphone. “Good afternoon, everyone,” he said, sliding his sunglasses over his eyes as his grin grew wide and polished. “Are you ready for everyone’s favorite day of the quarter?” The crowd, which had quieted and turned to face Tony, cheered. “I know, me too. As you can see, there are six cars, so there will be six MVPs named today. As your name is called, winners, come up to take a bow and tell us which car you will be taking for a test drive before they all move on to their new owners.”

“That’s the reward?” Bucky said with surprise to no one in particular. “You get to drive the cars? Where?”

“The Boss rents out a racetrack,” the guy next to him said. “You get to drive it for thirty minutes. Or you can just take the cash prize, if you aren’t interested in the cars or don’t know how to drive.”

“Let’s take a minute to get to know our guests,” Tony was saying. “The sexy red beauty is a Ferrari LaFerrari, a lame name for a nice car. This particular one used to be owned by Mark Zuckerburg, purchased for $1.4 million with the proceeds of selling Facebook user data to over 150 companies. Proceeds from its resale is going to the Free Internet Project.” There was enthusiastic applause, then he gestured towards the Bugatti. “This fucking amazing car is a Bugatti La Voiture Noire, the most expensive car on the planet at $18 million. Jeff Bezos commissioned this car even as workers in Amazon warehouses were passing out from exhaustion while working for minimum wage. Proceeds from the sale of this pinnacle of human engineering will go to help Amazon workers unionize for better working conditions.” Each car in the warehouse had a similar story, and Bucky couldn’t help booing and cheering with the crowd as he heard each story.

“But enough of those assholes,” Tony said, waving for the crowd to get quiet. “Let’s hear about our heroes. First is Harley Keener, who has worked tirelessly to set up our own free neighborhood broadband using satellite dishes he made himself; it’s making ISPs in the city big mad, as the kids say, but we’ve got higher and more consistent speeds than they provide so they can suck it, right? It’s not like they were laying fiber here anyway.” As he spoke, a teenager came up and Tony gave him a hand to help him climb onto the table. There was applause, and the kid picked the Lamborghini, and hopped down off the table with a check and a certificate from the Maria Stark Foundation. The rest of the projects were in the same vein: a woman who set up a program to encourage stores and restaurants to donate excess food to soup kitchens and shelters to reduce food waste ("I know it's against the law, but it's a stupid law so we've elected to ignore it"); an older Black man who got the city to put in new solar-powered bus stops at safer and more convenient locations; and a principal who had a 100% graduation rate for the first time in the school’s history, among others. “And every senior was registered to vote as they got their diploma,” Tony added. “Great work, everyone! Winners, I’ll see you soon for your test drives, and for everyone else make sure you eat all this food, boxes are at the end of the table for you to take some home.” There was another round of applause, the biggest one yet, as Tony handed the microphone to Happy and climbed off the table.

“You’re just a regular Robin Hood, aren’t you?” Bucky said when Tony found him again, this time holding a plate full of chicken wings, donuts, and assorted fruit. “Stealing from the rich to give to the poor?”

“I like to think of myself as an instrument of poetic justice,” Tony said around a mouthful of food. “I used to steal them and wreck them, but I realized this was more fitting.”

Bucky knew he shouldn’t be quite so amused about six counts of grand – very grand – theft auto, but it was hard not to smile at the smug look on Tony’s face while he had powdered sugar in his goatee.  As someone pulled Tony away with a question, Bucky felt his phone buzz with a notification. He moved closer to the wall as he pulled it out to check his messages.

Gonna be a party tonight, his Discord contact had written, along with an address. A very familiar address, since he was standing right at it. You gonna be there?

Bucky stared at the message and sagged against the wall as his stomach sank. Glancing up at the cars, he realized that the police must have gotten a tipoff that the cars were incoming and were planning to raid the garage tonight, before they disappeared again. The message wasn’t an invitation, it was a warning for him to stay away so his cover wouldn’t get blown. “Shit,” he said, and wiped a hand over his face as he thought furiously.   

“What’s up?” Tony asked, licking wing sauce off his fingers. “You look like you got bad news.”

Bucky stared at him for a moment and realized that there was no way he was going to let Tony get arrested, no way he was going to let him go to jail or let his name get dragged through the mud and see everything he'd built get torn apart by rival gangs. “Want to go on a date?” he blurted.

Tony’s face went slack with shock. “A date?” He blinked at Bucky for a long time, mouth quirking, before his face suddenly fell. “I can’t. You’re an employee,” he said regretfully.

“Seriously?” This guy, for crying out loud. “Ok, uh…” Bucky thought fast. “What about an employee counseling session? With food? We can talk about my, um, five year career plan.”

“Five year plan.” Tony stared at him with amused disbelief. “Ok, sure. Let’s do some employee counseling. When?”

“Tonight.”

“Tonight?” Tony repeated, clearly fishing for an explanation but Bucky couldn’t think of a good one so he just shrugged. “Alright,” he said slowly. “Far be it from me to discourage people from having life goals. Let’s say 8:00?”

“Sounds great,” Bucky said, trying and probably failing to keep the relief out of his voice.

“Ok, I’ll pick you up.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.” Bucky stood around awkwardly for a moment, then nodded stiffly and walked away. If he was going to have an identity crisis and second guess every decision he’d made in life that had led to him asking an organized crime boss out on a date, he should probably do it in privacy and hopefully get it done with by 8.

Baffled, Tony watched Blue Eyes hurry away, running the conversation over in his head until suddenly realization dawned. Then he found himself smiling so widely his cheeks hurt; joy was like champagne bubbles in his chest, making him want to laugh for no particular reason. He tossed his half-empty plate of food into the closest trashcan and threaded through the crowd until he found Rhodey leaning against the door, typing something one handed into his work tablet.

“Rhodey,” Tony said, beaming.

“Tony,” Rhodey said, looking up warily.

“Blue Eyes wants to have dinner with me. And it has to be tonight.”

Rhodey frowned. “But tonight is-”

“Exactly.”

Rhodey took one look at the beatific look on Tony’s face and started shaking his head. “Tony, no,” he said in warning.

“Tony, yes. He’s trying to protect me, Rhodey.” Tony felt downright giddy.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do! He knows the police are going to raid the garage tonight and he doesn’t want me here when it happens so I don’t get arrested for possession of stolen property. It’s so goddamn romantic I can’t stand it.” Brooks, or whatever the hell his real name was, couldn’t know that Tony had contacts inside every major law enforcement organization operating in the city and had known about the raid almost as soon as they had applied for a warrant. The stolen cars were already being prepared to be moved to a separate location, and in their place were going to be the exact same models all purchased legally and in Tony’s name. Pepper and her army of lawyers had already prepared righteously indignant press releases and harassment lawsuits and were just waiting for the cops to show up. Tony had even picked his outfit for his brief stint in jail, but apparently now he had other plans for the evening. “You know what this means, right?”

“I know what you think it means, Tony, and I still think you should be careful. He is still a cop.”

Tony planted a loud, smacking kiss on Rhodey’s cheek. “You can’t take this from me, sour puss. I might get to keep Blue Eyes after all!”

#tony stark #bucky barnes #tony x bucky #winteriron #no powers au

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Speak No Evil (Part 16)

The fit she throws isn’t the one that Seicho had expected. What she had expected were pillars of fire and a barrage of cutting words, etched heavy-handedly into the sand. She thinks that the one she got is infinitely worse.

They are miles away from the volcano and the woman knows it. She sees it in her mute screams of frustration and rage. Those soundless cries put a unique sense of discomfort in her like no other at all. The woman is truly suffering in silence in every sense of the phrase and Seicho wonders if it is even possible to relieve her of it. She tries anyways. Tries despite how much the woman must irreparably and unapologetically resent her.

The woman’s face is red, strained, tearstained. Seicho pulls her into her arms and squeezes. Tighter than she has ever. Tighter than she has even held her own sister. She couldn’t save her from herself. She can’t save this woman from herself either. But she can at least try to get this woman to try to save herself.

She presses the woman’s cheek against her chest. Her sobs send tremors through Seicho’s body. She is somehow tense and limp all at once. And those tears; she wishes that the woman could make a sound, it would be so much less unnerving. All the same she doesn’t want to even imagine how tormented they would sound.

Seicho doesn’t know what else to do she rests her head on the woman’s and rubs her back over and over again until her cries let up at least a little. She is so terribly broken. Behind all of that resentment and beneath-the-surface rage is mountains of hurt. Perhaps fear. Certainly hopelessness. The only sound she hears are the woman’s soft, gasping breaths and occasionally small wheezes that are perhaps what is left of her ability to vocally cry. She hates these the most, they sound painful. She hopes that they aren’t truly so, the woman is in enough pain.

“Let’s get you back home.” Seicho finally says after at least twenty more minutes of letting the woman weep freely. “Your brother’s probably worried.”

‘He doesn’t care about me.’ She drags her pointer through the dirt. Her hand is still shaking, Seicho feels it when she takes it in her own.

“We’ll see about that.” Seicho mutters softly as she scoops the woman into her arms once more. She huffs, even with a good break, the woman is growing quite heavy in her sore arms. With luck she will begin walking on her own again soon. Though it would seem that she has thrown all of what was left of her energy and motivation into getting to that volcano. She is fresh out of willpower.

.oOo.

It is strange to be back on Fire Nation land. The sand sifts like snow but it is so very different. Everything is different really; where the tribes had smelled, pure, fresh, and clean, the Fire Nation is tainted. Not necessarily in a bad way but the air isn’t pure it is dashed heavily with smoke and spices and cooked meat, there is a bite of sulfur that she is no longer used to.

It is loudner too, much more bustling and clamoring. Where there had been arctic fox yowls and yips there is now the howl of vendors shouting over one another to draw attention. The crunch of snow beneath feet is swapped out for the crunch of gravel beneath carts. More people are out and about and TyLee almost longs to get right back on the airship and take Tuya’s offer to visit again. She knows that she will eventually, just not so soon.

Evidently, she isn’t sure where she is going to go now. She isn’t sure what the Fire Nation can possibly offer her when all of the real excitement is to be had in the frigid mysteries of the poles and their glaciers.

Maybe she will go back to performing. Perhaps theater or dance or try to join a band and sing. That is what she will do, she decides. She will dabble in everything that she can, try a bit of this and then a bit of that until she finally discovers which hobbies suit her best. Until she discovers what she truly loves not what she has been forced or coerced into loving.

Once she does that, she will muster up the courage to confront Mai. Just maybe she will find the bravery to confront Azula again, this time unwaveringly. And perhaps she will end up severing old bonds completely. It might be that, that is part of the healing process.

.oOo.

Seicho cares for her much more than she ought to. She does most of the foraging and cooking. She sets up all of the shelters. Occasionally Azula lights a fire for her. But mostly Azula lays quietly. Resigned. There isn’t really anything for her to do. She hasn’t anything to work for, nothing to aspire to be. She doesn’t have the compulsion to find anything. She has no purpose nor capacity to care. And yet she has failed to end herself and, by extension, the expanse of bleak and unremarkable nothingness laid out in front of her. She sits with her legs drawn up to her chest and stares almost unblinkingly into the fire.

“We’re about a day away from the beach.” Seicho remarks. “The one we met on.”

She had gotten the point the first time. Perhaps Seicho thinks her stupid. And perhaps Seicho is right. She doodles lazy spirals in the dirt.

“How can I help you?” Seicho asks. “I want to, but I don’t know how.”

Azula shrugs. She isn’t sure either. She isn’t sure that she wants help. She might very well like to watch herself fall and fall until she falls away completely. There is the faintest little itch, a residue of her former self that compels her to cling on for just a little longer. It is easy to shut out.

But Seicho doesn’t let her. She takes her hand and holds it against her cheek. Azula isn’t sure what the gesture is supposed to mean. A sign of affection probably, but Azula isn’t used to that anymore. Isn’t sure how to take it.

“I’m glad that you didn’t make it up that volcano.”

For the first time in a few days Azula responds. She replies with a simple, ‘why’.

Seicho shrugs. “I just like you. I just have a feeling, ya know?”

She doesn’t.

“I like telling you stories.” She continues. “You’re the only one who listens. I mean really listens. Everyone pretends to listen to me they say ‘mmhmm’ and ‘yeah’ but they don’t really listen. They always talk over me…”

Then Azula supposes that she has found the perfect companion.

“And you don’t do that.”

She makes out to scrawl a, ‘because I can’t’, but Seicho continues. “You might not be able to talk but you can still ignore me…”

Oh she highly doubts that…

“But you don’t. I bet that if I asked you to repeat everything we’ve talked about you’d be able to write it all out. Because you don’t just listen, you pay attention.”

Finally she writes, ‘people know how to ignore you?’

“They’re really good at it.”

‘Maybe they can teach me.’

Seicho laughs. Azula isn’t sure if it is a bitter laugh or a genuine one. “Thanks for listening to me ramble. I guess it was kind of a hostage situation.”

Azula nods, indeed it was. Though she supposes it was probably one of the better wastes of her time. At least this time around her failure won’t result in raised voices and shaming words.

Seicho is unusually quiet for a very long time before she finally asks, “do you really want to go?”

Azula furrows her brows.

“If you want to...you know, I’ll let you do it. I won’t leave until it’s over but I’ll let you do it. If it hurts that much…”

It takes her a moment to put two and two together and her stomach grows queasy when she does.

“I mean I don’t want you to but I guess that it’s kind of cruel to make you live if…”

Azula shakes her head. She doesn’t think that the woman means it. She can’t, not after everything.

“So, is that what you want?”

Azula swallows. Suddenly she isn’t so sure. She is sure of one thing, she just wants everything to stop hurting.

Seicho seems to smile. “It isn’t, is it?”

At last, Azula shakes her head no.

Seicho grins wider, “I was hoping that you’d say that.” And then much quieter, “I had a feeling that you would.”

More than anything, Azula just wants the pain to stop. She just wants to feel loved and lovable. She just wants to stop hurting everyone around her. A sense of control would be really nice too and a touch of dignity and honor. Confidence.

But first things first. She lets Seicho give her a small squeeze before she pulls out her parchment and brushes. Slowly and elegantly she scrawls upon the parchment, ‘Azula.’

Seicho cocks her head and Azula points to herself.  Seicho smiles, “your name is Azula?”

She nods.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #TyLee #Tyzula #Fanfiction

[natromanxoff]

Queen live at Colston Hall in Bristol, UK - November 18, 1975

x

The photos could be from either night.

This article from the November 29 issue of Sounds chronicles the second night in Bristol.

Queen triumphant

QUEEN ARE the type of group that make a man want to abandon rock writing. They pose questions and never provide answers. They exist in their own space-time continuum, visible and audible but keeping their secrets to themselves.

On the surface they couldn't be a nicer bunch of people, but they carry English reticence to an epitome. It isn't, as Geoff Barton said two weeks ago, that they're boring, it's just that they're reserved. Or in writer parlance, they don't automatically provide colourful copy. All my instincts as a writer tell me that there is a great story in that band, but after two nights with them I'm hardly any the wiser.

Skin tight

That their insularity has a lot to do with them being one of the most amazing heavy-metal and/or rock bands in Britain - with all the signs that they'll end up monsters on the order of Zep - is fairly obvious, but just how much bearing it has on the matter is hard to say. The enigmas they might pose mightn't even have answers.

Is there any logical reason why they present an image and persona straight out of the Beatles school of interlocking chemistry?

John is reserved, almost nonchalant on stage, as if it's all in a small, personal joke. When asked how he saw himself within the framework of the band he replied, with a small smile, "I'm the bassist".

Roger is his opposite, the cheeky sidekick in a Clint Eastwood movie, and attracting a lot of cheesecake attention in America and Japan.

Freddie is an original - one of the most dynamic singers to tread the boards in quite a few years. His attraction is obvious.

Brian is perhaps the biggest enigma of all. What is this seemingly frail, gaunt astronomer doing on that stage, striding purposefully and blasting diamond-hard rock? They're all equally strong personalities - like the Beatles there's no one major focal point. Ask four fans who their dream Queen is and you'll get four different answers.

Queen have been busy lads these past few months. Having disassociated themselves from their former management and joined with John Reid, the fourth album was seen to. Reid decided that a tight schedule wouldn't cause them undue harm, and figured on two months to record before embarking on this current tour.

Only Queen are driven to better each previous album - which at this stage of the game is obviously producing some excellent results - and 'A Night At The Opera' turned into a saga - culminating in 36-hour mixing sessions in an effort to allow at least a few days for rehearsal. In the end they managed three and a half days at Elstree with four hours off to videotape the promotional film for 'Bohemian Rhapsody'.

Their first few dates had not been without errors and the quartet were still not feeling totally comfortable their second night in Bristol, fourth night of the tour. You'd never know it, though.

Like all other aspects of the group, the stage is sophisticated. A black scrim provides a backdrop bounded by a proscenium of lights both front and rear. At each side the p.a. rises like a mutant marriage of Mammon and Robby the Robot. Amp power is readily evident but the most extraordinary is Brian May's subtle set up: nine Vox boxes stepping back in rows of three. The only packing crate visible is holding a tray of drinks, and you may rest assured that no roadie will rush, crawl or lurk across the stage while the show is in progress unless it's to rescue Freddie's mike from the clawing crowd.

As the auditorium darkens the sound of an orchestra tuning up is heard over the p.a. The conductor taps his baton on the music stand and a slightly effete voice welcomes the audience to A Night At The Opera. The Gilbert & Sullivan portion of 'Bohemian Rhapsody' follows, a brief glimpse of Freddie is allowed, and then in a blast of flares and white smoke the blitzkrieg begins.

Roger is barely visible behind his kit, just his eyes and tousled locks. John is wearing a white suit and playing the-man-who-must-stand-still-or-it-will-all-blow-away. Brian is slightly medieval in his green and white Zandra Rhodes top, while Freddie is...

Around his ankles his satin white pants flare like wings - fleet footed Hermes. Everything north of the knee is skin tight - tighter than skin tight - with a zip-up front open to AA rating. But further south, definitely in X territory, lurks a bulge not unlike the Sunday Telegraph.

There have been sex objects and sex bombs, superstar potency and the arrogant presentation of this all-important area, but never has a man's weaponry been so flagrantly showcased. Fred could jump up on the drum stand and shake his cute arse, leap about and perform all manner of amazing acrobatics, but there it was, this rope in repose, barely leashed tumescence, the Queen's sceptre. Oh to be that hot costume, writhing across the mighty Fred!

Phallic

Freddie is not pretty in the conventional sense of the word; like Mick Jagger of '64, he is his own convention. Also like the Jagger of the time, his stage persona and action is unlike anything else. Although it borrows - like most of the group's plagiarisms - slightly from Zeppelin, in tandem with Freddie's supreme assurance and belief in himself - he always refers to himself as a star - it explodes into something that is a constant delight to watch.

He reacts to his audience almost like an over-emotional actress - Gloria Swanson, say, or perhaps Holly Woodlawn playing Bette Davis. At the climax of the second night in Bristol he paused at the top of the drum stand, looked back over the crowd and with complete, heartfelt emotion placed his delicate fingers to lips and blew a kiss. Any person who can consume themselves so completely in such a clichéd showbiz contrivance deserves to be called a star.

Freddie's real talent, though, is with his mike stand. No Rod Stewart mike stand callisthenics here, just a shortee stick that doubles as a cock, machine gun, ambiguous phallic symbol, and for a fleeting moment an imaginary guitar. He has a neat trick of standing quite still in particularly frantic moments and holding the stand vertically from his crotch up, draw a fragile finger along its length, ever closer to the taunting eyes that survey his audience.

Their show contains lots of bombs and smoke, lots of lights, lots of noise. They fulfil the function of supremely good heavy metal - i.e. you don't get a second to think about what's going on. When they do let up for a few minutes, it's only so you can focus in on the bright blue electric charge crackling between your ears.

Bulldozer

Dominating the sound is Roger's drumming, a bulldozer echo that bounces like an elastic membrane, meshing with your solar plexus so that your body pulses in synch with the thunder. Tuned into that, everything else is just supremely nice icing.

For three days rehearsal, after eight months off the road Bristol was extremely impressive. In speculative mood I quizzed people on how long they thought it would take to headline Madison Square Garden. I was thought a radical at a year and a half. John Reid smilingly assured me it would take a year.

That Queen should end up with John Reid is an entirely logical proceeding. Everything about Queen demands that the world eventually kowtows at their feet in complete acquiescence - so big that bodyguards have to accompany them at every step. Well, no - they found that an annoyance in Japan, but, you know, huge.

Such status demands a Reid or a Peter Grant, and whatever the causes for their leaving Jack Nelson and Trident, an elegant group like Queen is going to look for a man with class. Reid found the idea of managing a group interesting, and having to deal with four strong personalities a challenge. He only concerns himself with their business and ensuring that the year ahead is mapped out. In January they begin a jaunt through the Orient, Australia and America, by which time it's March and they begin preparations for the next album.

Reid's prediction of a year was proven highly credible the next evening in Cardiff. The band had still not paused from the rush up to the tour and spent most of the day relaxing and sleeping - no doubt a factor in their near recumbent profile. Also, unlike most groups, they were keeping their dissatisfaction with the show to themselves.

They stopped off at Harlech TV on the way to see a cassette of the video for 'Bohemian Rhapsody'. The general consensus was quite good for four hours, with much laughter during the operetta. Brian finds film of the group educational - the first time he saw himself was a Mike Mansfield opus for 'Keep Yourself Alive' - "It was 'All right fellows, give it everything you've got but don't move off that spot.' It was terrible." You don't like Mansfield, eh? "Oh, I hate him - we all do... I was horrified when I saw it - I couldn't believe we looked that bad. I looked very static - seeing myself has taught me a lot about stage movement. Some of the things I do are planned for effect, but it's mostly just feeling the audience and communicating that back to them."

Arriving at the motel - several miles out of town - Freddie immediately fell asleep, John held court of a sort, joined later by Brian, while Roger went jogging, a daily event when touring. Tuning in to rock via Bill Haley and Tommy Steele, he became a drummer because he was better at it than guitar. All through school he was in bands; he only went to dental school out of "middle class conditioning, and it was a good way to stay in London without having to work". His mother thought it a bit strange when he opted for a career as a rock star, but she doesn't worry too much now.

The concert starts in much the same manner as the previous night, but there are signs that tonight is work, with posing an afterthought. The endings to most of their songs are magnificent and majestic, especially 'Flick Of The Wrist' and the rapid harmonies of 'Bad Boy Leroy Brown'.

Maniacal

The audience, seeing their faces in town for the first time, are vociferous in their appreciation. Guys know all the words to every song, yelling enthusiastically at every effect and solo. The band picks up, Freddie receiving the crowd beneficently, telling them they’re beautiful.

As the show builds it is obvious that things are gelling more. The previous night Brian had seemed totally out of place, not moving too much, taking solos with the weirdest half blank half possessed stare, talking to himself; cocking ear towards guitar. He was the proverbial stranger in a strange land, one step removed from the plane inhabited by you and me.

Tonight he moves fluidly, the gonzo lead guitarist of a gonzo band. His expressions are just as maniacal, but it only makes him look more demonic. His solo in 'Brighton Rock', an exposition in riffing and echo, is a treat because of his physical response to both music and audience, complete with ham acting. Freddie gets into the same game on 'The Prophet's Song', where he conducts an acapella madrigal with himself. It's a pretty commanding moment.

It’s soon after this that Madison Square seems reasonable. About a minute into 'Stone Cold Crazy' it becomes very obvious that Queen have suddenly Plugged In. Found the metal music machine and Connected. Freddie's movements explode in perfect unison with the music, the lights and surroundings go crazy, and the audience goes berserk.

Freddie asks for requests and receives a roar out of which one can vaguely make 'Liar'. Fred walks along the stage, nodding, agreeing he will do this one and that one while the kids roar on. "I'll tell you what - we'll do them all!"

'Doing Alright' opens slow and portentously. Queen's variation of light and shade is one of the major factors in their popularity, but even so the quiet sections frequently find the audience's mind wandering. One kid starts getting a joint together, totally forgetting it when everything blasts off again; guys talk among themselves, only to instantly leap to their feet, fists flying to the beat.

'Doing Alright' changes into a cha-cha beat, Freddie snapping his fingers, the coolest hipster in town, and then instantly drops into faster-than-light drive - the whole row next to me leaps to their feet as a man, rocking back and forth as Brian roars into a blinding solo.

Two songs later, in 'Seven Seas of Rye', the kids break - very fast - and in five seconds half the audience is a seething mass in front of the stage, climbing on each other in pyramids, sudden openings appearing as a splintering seat sends a few bodies to the floor.

The rest of the show is equally intense, especially for a couple of minutes during 'Liar; where Fred and Brian merge into a tight little triangle with Roger while John stands in front of the bass drum, staring out with his small smile.

Freddie has treated his encores - 'Big Spender' and 'Jailhouse Rock' - differently on successive nights, once appearing in a kimono and in Bristol with rather rude tight white shorts, giving the song title new emphasis. In Cardiff, though, he doesn't bother to change at all. Later it transpired that Brian had twisted his ankle during 'Liar'. While he’s attended to, kids out front pick up chair slivers to keep as mementos.

On the bus back to the hotel Brian sits quietly at the back, chatting with two girls. John sits at the front, as always. Freddie stares out of the window, lost in his own world. Roger bounces around, starts a pillow fight with Brian - which stops as soon as Brian scores a direct hit to the face - then discovers an eight track of 'Sheer Heart Attack', punching it through the channels as he conducts the group. The two hours towards which they have channelled the day's energies are spent.

Ambition

That Queen have become a top attraction through a fair degree of plagiarism is amusing. Stealing is nothing new in rock (or any art for that matter) and mostly Queen use the borrowed material better than the originals. That they would be big I don't think anybody really doubted. All four have immense desire to be successful, and that kind of ambition will keep them slogging until they achieve it.

But there are popular heavy metal bands and there are popular h-m bands. From watching Queen's audience it is apparent that Queen speak for them in a way that bands such as the Who and the Stones and the Beatles spoke (and continue to speak) to their audience. Uriah Heep may be great at what they do, but five years after their demise who'll remember them? Creedence Clearwater Revival demonstrate the same thing - who remembers them? And yet five years ago they were the largest band in the world.

Queen will probably always be remembered, because as their tour is beginning to demonstrate, they have the ability to actualise and encompass the outer limits of their sense of self-importance. Queen and their music, presentation, production - everything about them says that they are more important than any other band you've every heard, and who has there been, so far, who has objected? Certainly not the 150,000 people (plus 20,000 a day) who bought 'Bohemian Rhapsody' in the first 20 days of its release. Certainly not me.

See you at Madison Square Garden.

[text © J. Ingham 2007; photos © Kate Simon]

~ You can see the photos which was mentioned on the article, from the link on the title. ~

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

[gotmymindsetonyou]

The Best and Worst Things About Each MCU Movie

These are all just my stinky opinions. You are allowed to disagree, you are allowed to agree. Most of these are jokes anyway. I’m honestly just happy you’re reading this. Minor Spoilers Ahead!

Iron Man (2008) -

Best: This movie almost perfectly sets the tone for the entire universe that has at that point yet to have been created. Looking back, you can imagine the feeling of “Where are they going to go from here?” and I think that’s one of the most important things that this movie needed to accomplish.

Worst: What the fuck is Jeff Bridges doing? What’s his endgame here? I get he’s trying to take over Stark Industries but how’s he gonna do that from inside that giant metal suit he uses to kill people inside their cars?

Incredible Hulk (2008) -

Best: Tim Roth is in it and I think that is pretty cool.

Worst: I haven’t actually seen it, but the cgi looks god awful, what the hell.

Iron Man 2 (2010) - 

Best: Sam Rockwell is so goddamn annoying in this movie and I think that’s amazing, he’s such a little stinker.

Worst: I remember basically nothing else about this movie except some guy talking about birds, idk.

Thor (2011) -

Best: It introduces Loki, probably one of the most beloved villains in the entire franchise. 

Worst: This movie is so goddamn boring and it’s my least favorite and I hate it. Don’t @ me.

Captain America: The First Avenger (2011) -

Best: The first good chunk of this movie is actually a really compelling character study on Steve Rogers and what makes him a good man. Seeing him basically being paraded as this propaganda figure and watching him struggle with this is one of the most compelling things about him as a person. Really wish they kept this up for the entire movie.

Worst: The red skull is really boring guys. He’s red, that’s it. Give me something else to work with man.

Marvel’s The Avengers (2012) -

Best: This movie proved that you can have a superhero team up with this many people and have it fucking work. It doesn’t matter if you hate or love this movie, you cannot deny the effects it has on the genre.

Worst: It’s shot like a bad CW show. It looks so ugly.

Iron Man 3 (2013)

Best: This one is actually my favorite of the bunch. Exploring the question of what makes Iron Man, the suit or the person, is shown really well here. I thoroughly dig it.

Worst: That scene where Harley flip flops about whether or not he really knows Tony makes me so irrationally angry.

Thor: The Dark World (2013)

Best: It’s slightly better than Thor, and I actually can feel myself start to have a good time whenever Loki’s on screen.

Worst: Once again, this movie is insanely forgettable. Christopher fucking Eccleston is in this movie and I could not tell you a single thing about this character.

Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) - 

Best: This movie has one of the best hand-to-hand fight scenes in the entire MCU. You know the one I’m talking about. It gives me chills, I love it.

Worst: Having the government stand-in that Steve questions in the beginning of the movie actually be a front for N*zis that he can just beat up, and not an actual metaphor for the issues with the government today? You ain’t slick.

Guardians Of The Galaxy Vol. 1 (2014) -

Best: This is the mcu movie basically anyone can enjoy. Anybody can watch this movie and find something to love about it. The characters, the messages about family and learning to be okay with feeling love, the jokes, hell, even the space setting. THE MUSIC. It’s the full package baby.

Worst: Chris Pratt has an unfortunate cameo in this one.

Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015) -

Best: I have a couple of things. A) The party scene where we get to watch the Avengers talk and be friends with each other and act like people. B) I love James Spader no matter what he is doing.

Worst: Why is everyone quipping? Why is the robot quipping? Why would they massacre my boy like that?

Ant-man (2015) -

Best: I want Paul Rudd to marry me, best dad in the mcu.

Worst: The moment Edgar Wright left this project.

Captain America: Civil War (2016) -

Best: Introduces two great characters, Spider-man and Black Panther. These two get a lot of love when it comes to designing their characters in this movie and it makes me very happy.

Worst: It made the fandom very unhappy and I don’t like picking sides. It feels like watching your many parents get divorced for two hours.

Doctor Strange (2016) -

Best: The magic looks really fucking cool in this movie. Also, the ending with Dormammu is up there for one of my favorite endings of an mcu movie. Having Doctor Strange actually outsmart the villain instead of actually fighting him is endlessly more satisfying.

Worst: Could not tell you a thing else about this movie other than I heard Tilda Swinton plays a character that’s probably not supposed to be white.

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (2017) -

Best: Guys, I gotta come clean about something. I actually like this one better than Volume 1. I know, I know, a good majority of people do not feel this way, but I feel a lot more emotionally attached to the movie, and that’s mainly because of two characters: Yondu Udonta and Rocket Racoon. Rocket realizing that he’s an asshole but his found family still loves him gets me, man. I can’t help it. Helps that Ego is a great villain as well. Also the cinematography is some of the best in the mcu.

Worst:  No Howard the Duck.

Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017) -

Best: I think the best thing about this movie is just the solidness of it all. No one part stands out as the best because most everything about this movie is pretty damn good. Michael Keaton will knock your socks off, go watch it.

Worst: Donald Glover is in it to tease a Miles Morales reveal, BUT NOTHING HAS HAPPENED ABOUT IT SINCE.

Thor: Ragnarok (2017) -

Best: Taika Waititi knows how to do shit right, lemme tell ya. Taking away Thor’s hammer from the beginning was probably one of the smartest choices in the movie, and this is a movie of smart choices.

Worst: Jeff Goldblum isn’t in it more.

Black Panther (2018) -

Best: Erik Killmonger is easily the best villain in a Marvel movie, and you can quote me on that. An amazing performance from Michael B. Jordan. It’s also the first Marvel movie I saw in theatres (I know, I was very late to the game)

Worst: Everett K. Ross is CIA propaganda and the last fight scene on the train tracks looks like shit.

Avengers: Infinity War (2018) - 

Best: It’s really hard to sum up exactly what my thoughts are on this movie. I think one of the movie’s best qualities is the bigness of it. This movie feels huge, there’s a lot of different stuff to love here. If you like Wakanda, there’s a whole epic battle set in Wakanda. If you’re more a fan of the space stuff, we got a whole lotta space stuff. The best part of this movie is there’s probably gonna be something that everyone can enjoy packed in here.

Worst: I also think the bigness of this movie is also one of it’s larger weaknesses. Because there’s so much stuff in this movie, not all of it is fully fleshed out. Tony Stark gets a lot to do in this movie, but Steve Rogers sort of feels sidelined at parts. There’s a perfect balance that I don’t think was quite hit.

Ant-man and The Wasp (2018) -

Best: I still really love Paul Rudd in this movie, and I think his relationship with Cassie is still really cute. World’s Greatest Grandma indeed.

Worst: This movie really had its work cut out for itself, coming off the heels of Infinity War, so it sort of falls short in that respect. I don’t want to criticize it too harshly, it is what it is, nothing insanely memorable. 

Captain Marvel (2019) - 

Best: I still think this is a pretty good movie, despite what a lot of people think. I struggle a lot with believing that I have to prove myself to others, so having Carol finally realize that she doesn’t have anything to prove to anyone was really important to me, and probably a lot of other women.

Worst: There were parts where I wasn’t as engaged, like the scenes in the Kree empire. That made some of the movie feel off to me, it’s a bit unbalanced.

Avengers: Endgame (2019) - 

Best: This movie 100% achieves what it sets out to do, and that is to be a huge cinematic event. I don’t even really see this movie as a movie, it’s more like one huge experience. My viewing had one of the most energetic crowds I’ve ever seen a movie with.

Worst: I don’t really think this movie holds up to multiple re-watches. Granted, I saw it in theatres three times. I don’t think any subsequent viewings are ever going to pack that same punch that my first viewing had, and that makes it harder to come back to. Also Steve had a totally lame ending.

Spider-man: Far From Home (2019) - 

Best: After ending on such a downer note in the last movie, this felt like a weight being lifted off my chest. Jake Gyllenhaal gives an insanely energetic performance that I absolutely adore. (Also seeing it with my dad was fun, he would nudge me every time they switched locations to tell me he’d been there)(Also when I saw it with my sibling a kid ran out of the theatre during the Mysterio mind-fuck sequence, some just can’t handle that lifestyle)

Worst: Peter Parker and MJ remind me of how perpetually single I am.

#movie review #minor spoilers #mcu #marvel #marvel review

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Imperium Locus

Summary: Dean wasn’t supposed to feel the way he did about Donna Hanscum. On paper, the pair were never meant to be, but what happens when he dares to let his guard down.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum

Word Count: 5.7k+ (I’m so sorry)

Warnings: Language, show level violence, character death

Square Filled: Enemies to Lovers

Author’s Note: Written for @spngenrebingo​.  I honestly have no idea where this came from. Probably because I’m absolute Winscum trash. I have no regrets. Also, I’m not 100% sure this is even enemies to lovers. I tried though, therefore none of you can criticize me. I hope you all enjoy this, as always I love to hear what you thought. xoxo Alex. 

Check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!

A camera flashed outside the main door to Imperium Locus as clients flooded inside. The lights inside were low, reflecting against the crystal that hung from almost every open space of the club. There was chatter from the locals intertwined with the jazz that the band created from the stage. 

“Mrs. Scott is a tramp, everybody knows that. Well, except for Mr. Scott.” Laughter rang out around the table as Dean was making his rounds. He made eye contact with his buddy at the table, squeezing his shoulder and bringing him up to stand next to him. 

“Hey, Garth, how about we keep the gossip for the column, eh? People are trying to enjoy themselves tonight.” Dean patted down his wrinkled tie and raised a single brow at the journalist.

“You won’t have to worry much longer Dean. I’m working on something big right now, you’ll see.” Garth’s words were slurred as they came from his mouth. “They’ll all see!”

Dean once again patted his friend’s shoulder, leaving him to be with the group he had shown up with. Garth was always on about how he had some big story that he was working on, and it almost always ended up as some sort of fluff piece in the local paper. Dean had no worries about the strange fellow he called a friend, but it wouldn’t hurt to cut him off before he could no longer walk straight. 

As he made his way to the bar, a shot was slid across the wood and into his ready hand. Dean tipped it back, allowing the whiskey to burn down his throat. Ash stepped down the way to wipe the counter in front of his boss. 

“Only water for Garth from now on, okay? He can come to me if he’s angry but I don’t need him getting himself into trouble on my account.” 

“Got it, boss.” Ash nodded his head once at the club owner before refilling his shot. Dean threw it back again without hesitation. “By the way, isn’t Jo supposed to be on by now?”

Both men turned their heads to the stage devoid of the Imperium’s star performer. Though it wasn’t unlike her to be a little late to the stage, her absence never sat right with Dean. He glanced down at the watch on his wrist and hummed, “Yeah, let’s give her a couple of minutes.” 

As Dean spoke, the lights dimmed in the club as the stage lights grew. The head of his jazz ensemble came onto the stage to announce Jo’s arrival, and the crowd broke out into applause and whistles. 

“What a dame,” Ash sighed from beside Dean. 

“She gets ‘em every time.”  Dean agreed. The pair of them watched the charismatic woman charm the crowd like she did every other night since joining the staff at the Imperium. Jo was the secret to Dean’s recent success with the club. Ever since the paper did a column on her show, people from all around the greater area were coming to see her perform. The small, spirited woman had a way with the music that captivated even the most skeptical and frazzled customers. 

“Dean,” Ash’s face fell as he glanced towards the front door. Dean caught his gaze and followed it, only to be hit with the last thing he wanted to deal with tonight. His place was more packed than ever and more than that, he wanted a peaceful evening that didn’t end in a bloodbath. 

Walking in the front doors of his club was none other than Fergus MacLeod, the notorious jackass that pretty much owned the town just a mile south of Lawrence. He was flanked by his usual henchman, Gordon Walker. None of that pissed him off more than the woman on his arm, Donna Hanscum. 

Donna was a girl that had grown up right here with his little brother Sammy. Just a few years younger than himself. She was quiet and kept to herself in school mostly but what had always caught his eye was her beauty. Her soft blonde curls were always in place and her mother never failed to pick out a dress for her that didn’t bring out the amber in her eyes. She was a sweet girl. That is until she married Doug. Somehow, that was where it all went downhill for the young woman. Ever since her association with Doug, the pair had been attached to MacLeod’s side. Even after Doug left her, Donna stuck around the vile man that Dean assumed was less than human. They were the dynamic duo of Pleasant Grove, ironically enough. But everyone knew of the back door dealings they tried to hide. Not to mention all the trouble they have caused the Winchester family. Fergus wanted to take over Lawrence, where the real money was to be made, and he had tried to use John’s death as a means to get inside. Dean had been warned by his father of the MacLeod’s long before he was murdered, and had sworn to protect Lawrence from them at all costs. So that’s what he does, protects the town he loves from the evil they can’t even begin to comprehend, and now, here MacLeod was, in his late father’s club, and that pissed Dean off. 

“I’ll take care of it, but call for Benny.” Dean tapped the bar with his knuckles before pushing off of it and leaving Ash to head to the back of the house. Dean licked along his lower lip, his eyes narrowed at the people in his house. Donna caught his line of sight, her head tilting up and a sly smile appearing on her lips when she realized he was staring at her. She pulled on her sky blue gown as she went down the steps into the lounge area, the slit in the satin reaching far higher than anything Dean had seen before. 

Fergus gripped her elbow and guided her to a table behind Gordon. The henchman tapped the shoulder of the paying customers at the table and shooed them away with a tip of his hat. He pulled out the chair for Donna who sat down next to the man that was evil personified. Her eyes still on the green-eyed club owner. 

“Well well, if it isn’t little Cassie Robinson.” Donna turned her attention away from Dean and towards Fergus, where he now had the arm of a young woman trapped in his grasp. “You have the money you borrowed from me?”

“Not yet, but I have something in the works.” She flashed him a brilliant smile, but one that was laced in fear and embarrassment. Her eyes averted back and forth, hoping no one in the area was paying any attention to her predicament. 

“Not yet? Well, that was a glass of mighty expensive champagne I saw you drinking over there.” Fergus’ lips twitched into an evil smirk. 

“Well, a lady has to keep up appearances.” 

“Your appearance is gonna suffer if you don’t get me my money. Twenty four hours.” His voice dropped dangerously low and Cassie ripped her arm from his fingers. A frown fell onto her face as he sneered at her, the young woman stomping off without another word. Donna looked away as Cassie passed her, ashamed that she couldn’t help the poor woman. She couldn’t even save herself, so what was she to do for Cassie?

The young woman in trouble knocked into Dean’s shoulder as he passed on his way to MacLeod, and he watched her run off with a sigh. 

“Can I help you?” Dean stopped next to Donna, his eyes on the man whose vile leached out into the atmosphere around. 

“Wow, Dean Winchester. What a pleasure.” MacLeod did nothing to hide the sarcasm in his voice, a smile still on his lips. Dean pushed back his suit jacket and slipped his hands into his pockets as his gaze flicked to Donna for half a second. “You know I actually thought this was my club for a while, considering that’s my singer up there.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to inform you, but your club is down the road,” it was Dean’s turn to smile now, “The one lacking customers.”  

“Hmm, funny.” Fergus pretended to ponder over his thoughts. “Give me my girl back, and I’ll let you live.” 

“Jo is free to do whatever she wants, and she wants to stay here.” Dean turned as he spoke his next words, his forefinger pointing towards the main entrance. “You, on the other hand, are free to go.” 

MacLeod laughed, an earnest chuckle, “You know this club had such class when your father ran it. You know it’s too bad your mother and John had such a horrific accident, I mean your mother was always so,” Fergus licked his lips, his eyes narrowing, “Hospitable.” 

“I think it is time for you to get out of my club, or I will throw you out.” All hint of amusement was gone from Dean’s face. His blood was boiling underneath his skin, and it took everything in him not to sock the man staring up at him. 

Fergus didn’t take his eyes off Dean, both men were intent to size the other up. “Gordon,” 

Dean turned just in time to see Gordon smash a bottle against the table, holding up the jagged edges to the club owner’s face. Dean didn’t back down, his jaw ticking as he stood his ground. The music around them faded away as all eyes in the club had been drawn to the commotion. Even Jo stood watching with bated breath from the stage. 

“Hey,” Benny now stood at the entrance to the club, his gun resting in plain sight on his hip. He was flanked by Dean’s other right-hand man, Castiel, who also was accompanied by his piece. “I think that’s enough for tonight.” 

Gordon dropped the glass with a small nod from his boss, who stood then, taking his coat from Gordon and slipping it back on his shoulders. The three walked by Dean, all eyes on them as they made their exit. Fergus paused in front of Dean, looking out towards all the hesitant faces. “Thanks for the lovely evening.” He sneered before continuing out. 

Donna stopped to watch him return to her, letting him pass by out the door. Her gaze landed on Dean one last time and he couldn’t help but wonder if he detected something in her eyes this time. Was it fear? Or maybe it was a concern? Either way, it set Dean Winchester on edge, and that was not an easy feat. 

Dean followed them until the trio disappeared behind the doors, turning back around to his still silent club members. “Sorry ladies and gentlemen, round on the house!” Dean flourished his arm towards the stage. “Jo Harvelle!” He signaled towards the band to start up again, wanting nothing more than for the little scene with MacLeod to be over with. He took a deep breath as the attention turned back to his star performer. 

~

The Mercedes rolled to a stop outside MacLeod manor as a fog settled in the small town. 

“Give us a minute, Gordon.” Fergus caught the eye of his driver in the mirror and waited for him to exit the car. Donna turned her attention on the man, a confused tilt in her brow. Fergus took a deep breath and looked off out the opposite window. 

“I saw you making eyes at Dean tonight,” he stated. 

Donna forced a smile on her face and breathed out a chuckle, “I was doing nothing of the sort.” 

“I know what I saw, don’t make a liar out of me.” Fergus gripped her bicep in his stubby fingers, his nails digging into her soft flesh. The pair exchanged equally heated stares, Fergus with his teeth bared and Donna on the verge of tears. “You are only still alive right now because you have been useful to me. The second that changes, you are done. Now go to bed.” 

Fergus leaned over her to push open the car door. The blonde climbed out of the Benz without a word, her heart hammering deep in her chest. She knew his words were not just a veiled threat, but a promise. 

Gordon pushed open the gate as he pulled the toothpick from between his plumps lips, “I believe you, Donna, I know you only have eyes for me. Sweet dreams,” he sneered, taking it upon himself to smack her behind as she walked past him without comment. 

~

The crowd inside the Imperium was thinning as the night came to a close. Dean helped Garth out, making sure he headed in the right direction towards home before coming back inside. 

“Last chance,” Cassie purred as she walked up to the eldest Winchester, handing over her fur shawl to him. 

“Good night, Cassie,” Dean smiled as he helped her into her shall. “Oh and Cassie, those were nice days we had.”

“Sure they were,” she sighed. “Sorry I had to break your heart.” And with those teasing words, she was gone, her smile faltering as she exited the club. 

“Are you sure you can still handle your whiskey, Chief?” Benny came up behind Dean as he watched the dark-skinned woman go. 

“Yeah, I’m sure. Why?” 

“Cause you just let Cassie Robinson walk out of here without paying her tab.” Benny held up the slip of paper to his boss, a quirk in his brow as he stared at the frowning man. Dean took the slip from between Benny’s fingers and ripped it in half. “Wow, I’ve been working with you for over ten years and I have never seen you tear up a bar tab.”

“Ah, she’s just down on her luck. Mark my words, Benny, someday Cassie Robinson is gonna change the world.” Dean patted his buddy’s shoulder and walked off to make sure his employees began their closing duties for the night. He slipped off his jacket as he set out to help clear the tables and go through some of the night's paperwork. He was leaning against the bar, rifling through his mail when the doors opened, revealing the long legs of Miss Hanscum. The club owner pushed off the bar and made his way to stop her before she could get too far inside. 

“Sorry, but we’re closed.” He breathed out as he came up the three stairs to the foyer. 

“I know,” she smiled. “My car broke down.” 

“Right, so you can lure me outside and Fergus and his goons can work me over.” Dean cocked his head, stopping a safe distance from the woman before putting his hands into his pockets. He straightened his shoulders. “No thanks.”

As Dean turned to leave, Donna raised her voice, “Fergus isn’t with me.” she cast her eyes down to where her feet were planted, the silver of the straps a sharp contrast to the dark tile below. Dean turned back to her, an incredulous look in his eye. He did not believe the lady standing in front of him. He had seen all too well with his own eyes the things that those two got up to. “Promise.”

The two stared at each other for a second, though it felt like minutes to Dean. Donna had a glint in her eye that was making his stomach churn, but there was something about the upturn in her smile that calmed the storm inside him. For some reason, he believed her. “Let me grab my coat.”

Donna led Dean outside to the street just in front of the Imperium as he slipped his hat onto his head. A sleek black Mercedes Benz was parked right against the curb, identical to all the others that the MacLeod legion used. He assumed it was a loaner for her. 

“Let me see what I can do, I’m not really the mechanic type,” He drawled as he lifted the hood to the car. The tall man bent over the engine, peering inside and fiddling with some things that seemed out of place to him. “The advancement of these things is amazing. How much did this set you back?” 

“Oh hundreds,” Donna leaned against the cool metal, watching as Dean’s white button-down stretched over the muscles of his arms. Dean smiled to himself, knowing damn well this woman next to him had no clue how much the car in front of him truly cost. “What about you? What do you drive?” 

“I don’t, not ready to give up on old fashion walking.” Dean turned to catch her eye as he finally succumbed to the fact that he truly had no idea what he was doing. A silence fell between the pair for only a moment before Donna spoke. 

“You know, no one has ever stood up to Fergus like that before,” Her words were nothing more than observation but even she couldn’t hide the curiosity that lingered beneath them. 

“That right?”

“Mhmm, and to be perfectly honest, I think that confrontation made him respect you. That’s how he judges people, you know, are they weak or are they strong? It’s his way.” Donna turned her back to where Dean was puzzling at the engine of the car, her gaze off in the distance down the road. 

“It’s not my way. I’m a kind man unless you give me a reason to be otherwise.” Donna turned to look at him as he stood up straight, seeing the sincerity in his eyes as he spoke. A bashful smile replaced his serious face, “I’m sorry, my Uncle Bobby was the mechanic in the family.” Dean reached above his head and closed the hood of the car. 

“It’s okay, leave it. But you wouldn’t mind a good old fashioned walk home, would you?” Donna mocked his earlier tone, offering him back his coat that she held in her arms. 

“Sure,” Dean slipped the coat on, stumbling over his next words. “I can do that, where do you live?” 

Donna peered behind her, her eyes going south down the main road in Lawrence. “That way.” 

“Alright,” Dean agreed, coming to walk next to her as the pair made their way down the street. 

The moon was high in the night sky as they made their way out of the sleeping town. There were no other pedestrians on the street as they reached the bridge on the outskirts of town, the last obstacle before leaving Lawrence. The string of lights hung along the white bridge, bringing the wooden walkway to life in the night. 

“I don’t know how I feel about the war,” Donna mused as Dean watched his feet moving against the aging wood. “I mostly just worry about our boys. I could fight you know, or be a nurse. What do you think?”

“I guess,” Dean hummed. Donna wanted more out of Dean than one-word answers. The man that had always been an enigma to the young blonde. He had taken up duty looking after his city when his Daddy died and he did it well. It was like she had said, no one had ever stood up to Fergus as he had, not even John Winchester.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” She blurted out, hoping to God that he didn’t leave her alone on that bridge in her idiocy. 

“I don’t think I know you well enough yet to say something like that.” 

“Well, you certainly don’t talk much yourself. Why would you agree to walk me home if you weren’t going to talk?” 

“Not much of the gabbing type.” Dean’s voice was even as the woman pushed him. Sure he had agreed to walk her home, but he wasn’t ready to open up his heart to the woman. After all, the only thing he was sure of was she worked for MacLeod. That meant that she was a threat. 

“What’s a girl got to do for some interesting conversation?”

“Fine,” Dean stopped his trajectory and adjusted the hat on his head. Donna continued on a half step before she noticed he had stopped. She turned to look at him, the deep look in his eyes making her smile falter. “Tell me, why do you associate yourself with a guy like MacLeod? He’s scum. Everybody knows the types of things he gets into. People disappear around him. And yet, you let him own you.” 

“Nevermind,” Donna husked out, a grimace now on her face. 

“Oh no, now you said you wanted to talk. Here I am walking you home, against his wishes I’m sure. I’d just like to know.” Dean shook his head at the woman as she attempted to evade the conversation she had started. 

“It’s a long story,” 

Dean looked off to the road ahead of them, “I’ve got time.”

“I was in love once, Doug was my whole life. But he was also an idiot... and a dog. He got into trouble with Fergus, money trouble, and I being a naive young lady threw myself on the fire to save him.” Donna admitted without hesitation. It felt better than she could ever explain to tell someone how far she had fallen. The pair continued towards their destination as she explained to him the turmoils of her life. 

“You’re a slave,” Dean stated.

“I’m an employee,” she tried to correct him but even she didn’t believe her own words. 

“Call it whatever you like, a dog is still a dog.” Dean was fighting every instinct in his body telling him to reach out and touch her, instead choosing to ball his hands up inside his pockets. 

“What is a girl supposed to do? I laid my life on the line for a man that ran off as soon as he thought he was free of me. I haven’t been free for most of my life.” Donna explained, the tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. 

“I’m not sure if you expect me to help you with that,” Dean worried.

“I’ve made my bed, Dean. More than anything I need to feel the freedom of the wind in my hair, but I can’t expect anyone but myself to do that for me. I don’t need some-”

“You are,” Dean interrupted her tirade. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“Earlier you asked me if you were pretty. You are.” The pair locked eyes as he said the words aloud. “But it’s your heart that makes you beautiful. 

“Thank you,” Dean couldn’t believe himself that he had blurted out that admission. In the small amount of time it took him to walk her home she had somehow wormed her way into his heart. Maybe he bled for her a little, understanding the loss she must have been feeling, or perhaps it was the fact that he now understood every action she had ever taken since walking into Fergus’ life. Donna was a fool, but she was not a cold-hearted person. “This is me.”

Both of them stopped outside the apartment on Main street. It was just as quiet in this town as it had been in Lawrence. “No one else knows that story about Doug, not in the whole world. Just me, him, and now you.” 

“I won’t say a word,” He promised. Donna gave him a soft nod back in thanks. “You know, there is a sign above the door in my club, it says ‘stay awhile, have a nightcap’. Maybe you and I could do that sometime?” 

“Have a nightcap?” 

“Whatever you’d like.” He mused. Donna and Dean shared playful smirks on their faces, both of them equally unsure of what had transpired though they may be for different reasons. But there was something stirring deep inside Dean’s belly, and he couldn’t have stopped his next words even if he had tried. “Would it be alright-”

“Shut up and do it already,” Donna chuckled and Dean had to shake his head at that. What more surprises could this woman possibly have in store for him tonight? 

He leaned into her, Donna meeting him halfway in a pressed kiss. It was short, but it left something burning inside him. “Good night, Donna.” 

Donna nodded, turning without another word to enter her home. Neither of them noticed Cassie Robinson in the shadows. 

~

Three cars were parked across the bridge just outside of town, their engines running, ready for a quick getaway. The lights from their headlamps are the only thing illuminating the night. 

“Just had to go snooping where you didn’t belong, kid. That’s what will get you killed.” MacLeod was standing in the middle of the bridge, eyeing up the scraggly reporter that was bound and stuck into a cement bucket. The henchman around him laughed at the horrendous snide, eager to appease their boss at whatever cost. 

“Stop it! What is this?” Fergus turned his head as Donna came rushing towards him. One of his henchmen moved to halt her advancement. “Get your hands off me,” She shoved him aside. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I followed you here. I had a feeling you were up to something, but I never fathomed…” Donna trailed off. Somewhere deep down she always knew the truly horrendous things Fergus got up to in the night, but she let herself believe it was all a lie so she could sleep at night. 

“What about you? How’s Dean doing, whore?” Donna stumbled back from his words as if they had physically assaulted her. 

“He killed John Winchester. I said I was on to something and I was right. He murdered him.” Garth spoke up from his confines, his mouth already bloodied. Fergus hollered to shut him up and the henchman obeyed, giving two swift punches to the gut. 

“Is that true?” 

“Go wait in the car!” Fergus ordered, but Donna was far too lost in her distraught, instead choosing to grab his arm.

“Is that true?!” She bellowed this time, only to be treated to a smack across her face. Donna stumbled on her heels, her hand coming up to wipe away the blood now on her lip. Fergus ordered her to the car again, looking back to his previous task. Donna took her opportunity and ran. She ran straight to the first person she could think of for help. 

Dean was preparing his club for the night’s festivities when she came barreling through the door. The clicking of her heels on the tile caught both his and Benny’s attention.

“They have Garth, they’re gonna kill him.” She blurted out. 

“What?”

“He found out that Fergus killed John.” Dean’s eyes went wide before his gaze was lost somewhere far off in the distance. “Dean I didn’t know, I’m sorry.” 

Dean was fishing for something under the bar before she could even try to explain herself. He pulled out a small gold box, flipping the lid open to reveal a single revolver. “Benny, go. Find Cas and get back here.”

“Chief, what are you doing?” 

“Let’s just go,” Donna whined. 

“Listen to her. Cas and I can handle this.” Benny tried to reason with his boss. 

“You’ll get hurt.” Donna tried again. 

“He hurt me when he took my father away from me. He’s hurt everybody, including you. He needs to be stopped once and for all.” 

“Oh, Dean,” Donna’s tears were making tracks in her makeup along her cheeks as she took in the one man that could help her even if she didn’t think that she needed it. 

Dean looked back at Benny, nodding for him to go before walking past Donna and out of the club. But they were too late. A car came towards them on either side of the road effectively blocking their escape plan. 

Gordon climbed from the car first, “Get over here, Donna.” He ordered. “Donna now!” 

“She’s with me.” Dean stood his ground, blocking Donna from the man now stalking towards them. Gordon laughed a good laugh before reaching for his pistol. Dean was faster on the draw, pulling the trigger of his revolver before Gordon even knew what had hit him. He hit the ground hard, blood soaking his gold shirt as it poured from his wound. Dean walked over, kicking Gordon’s dropped gun from his reach. 

“Why does everything always have to be so messy?” The sound of a car door closing had Donna and Dean snapping their attention to the other car. Dean aimed his gun at Fergus, unrelenting in his stance against the man. 

“Alright,” Fergus put up his hands and turned around, an evil smirk on his face. “Not even I would shoot a man in the back, Dean. That’s not true, I’ve shot several men in the back. Most of them deserved it, but I wouldn’t recommend you do it. Cause I have a surprise for you.” 

Dean’s attention was diverted to the car door opening again, this time revealing a grim Cassie Robinson. The confusion was all it took for Dean to let his guard down for a moment, giving Fergus ample time to reveal his own weapon. Dean was forced to relent, putting his hands up and dropping his gun. 

“That’s a good boy.” Fergus laughed. “Alright Miss Robinson. Finish your job and your debt is clear.” He sneered as he offered the gun in his hand to her. She took the metal weapon with shaking fingers, continuing to keep it pointed at Dean. 

“I’m sorry, Dean.” 

“Cassie, we’ve all had hard times. You don’t have to do this.” He was stepping backward away from where she was shaking. 

“Yes, I do. I should have done this a long time ago.” A smile etched itself across her face before she spun around and pulled the trigger on the weapon only to be met with thundering silence. 

“Yeah, I thought so,” Fergus mused. He reached out and slapped Cassie, sending her barely onto the wet concrete below. Donna gasped as he turned back to her and Dean, another gun already in his hand. 

“If you want something done right-” The sound of the gun being fired rang out in the small city street. Benny threw himself onto Fergus in that same moment, not having enough time to draw his weapon before Fergus had discharged. Dean flung his weight towards his gun to point it at Fergus. Both Benny and Dean had him in their sights, guns trained on his head when a small whimper of Dean’s name had him spinning around. 

Donna stood there, clutching her abdomen where warm blood was now pouring out of. “Donna?” Dean reached for just as she collapsed, both of them falling to the ground. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” He tried to reassure her as her eyes no longer focused on anything. “It’s okay, you are gonna be okay.” She was gasping as she looked up at him, her body fighting to live. 

“We are gonna leave, yeah, just you and me,” Dean had one hand pressed against her wound and the other was cradling her head, forcing her to look up at him as he spoke. “C’mon.”

Donna sucked in one last breath, uttering a soft exhaled “I love you,” up at the man cradling her in his arms. Dean dropped his head as the heavens opened up above him, letting down the rain that had been in the forecast all night. Her body was now limp in his arms and he no longer felt the need to fight the tears in his eyes. He leaned in to rest his forehead against hers, his eyes falling shut as he did so. 

“You’re free now, Donna.” He whispered to her before a sob racked his body. 

A hollered shout of his name had him snapping his head up, unaware of where the voice had come from. The thunder shook the world around before he heard it again. With the blink of his eyes, his little brother Sammy came into view, the world suddenly much brighter than it had been before. 

“Dude, why do you even agree to watch movies if you are gonna fall asleep?” Sam had kicked down the footrest of Dean’s lounger. He had to blink a few more times to allow his surroundings to come back to him, the credits of the black and white film Sam had chosen for movie night still playing on the television. 

“I wouldn’t have agreed if I knew you were gonna pic this boring shit.” Dean groaned, the reality now crashing over him. Sam frowned at his older brother before stalking off without cleaning up, leaving Dean to deal with the mess. 

The eldest Winchester rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. There was this emptiness in the pit of his stomach that the dream had left behind, a nagging feeling that he knew all too well. Unfortunately for him, this wasn’t the first time Donna had found her way into his dreams, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last. 

The hunter wasn’t exactly sure when it had all started. Time had always been hazy to him, but now as he found himself lucky to live another day, time was meaningless. Maybe it was then that the plucky sheriff from Minnesota had found her way into his heart. Dean had let his guard down a long time ago, and with it went the walls around his heart. Donna had a way about her that never failed to make him laugh, and she sure knew the storms raging in his head before anyone else. Donna was a badass and everything he could see himself needing in a woman. The only problem was that he couldn’t let himself have her. Not when the universe's largest target, God himself, was out for his blood. No, she deserved far better than a broken hunter who likely won’t even be able to save himself in the end. 

Dean stretched out his limbs as he climbed from his chair, his body creaking from years of abuse. The hunter couldn’t be bothered with what his brother had left in the movie room, instead, flipping the light off as he exited, his mind elsewhere as the black and white credits droned on in the now dark room.

Forevers: @polina-93​​ @22sarah08​​ @callmekda​​ @hobby27​​ @​tranquility-or-chaos​ @dawnie1988​​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan​  @akshi8278​ @superfanficnatural​ @malfoysqueen14​ @deanwanddamons​ @waywardbeanie​ @emoryhemsworth​ @talesmaniac89​ @winchest09​ @katehuntington​ @flamencodiva​ @janicho88​ @anathewierdo​ @ellewritesfix05​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @jensengirl83​ @lyarr24​

#dean winchester x donna hanscum #dean x donna #winscum #dean winchester x donna #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fanfiction #donna hanscum #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fic #spn fanfic pond #spn fic #alex writes #mine #imperium locus

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Weird, “Autograph.”

Wrote this between sporadic bouts of studying because I have the attention span of a flea and the motivation of a blob fish. So This is for those of you asking about what happened after “Movie Star.” 

He watched his shuttle hit altitude and then vanish into a pristine blue sky. The roaring of the engines faded away until there was nothing but the distant thunder of jet engines, so much quieter in comparison to the wild screaming of the spacefaring craft headed on her way back to the Harbinger, and a crew that would be captained by his second in command. It hurt him to think that someone else would be captaining his ship, that she'd be in deep space without him.

He wondered if this is what it felt like for a parent to leave their child for the first time.

It all just made his heart ache, and he had the sudden desire to call and make sure she hadn’t spontaneously combusted as soon as he had entered that shuttle leaving her on the docking port moonside.

“Yep, she totally exploded, the entire crew is dead and their ashes will forever float through space.” He turned his head to glower at Conn floating at his back and staring up into the sky with a grin.

“Shut the hell up Conn.”

“Make me.”

“Do I need to remind you that the only thing between you and a snapped spine is a gravitational chastity belt.” he snarled 

Conn adjusted the gravity field harness around his narrow-protruding hips, “Speaking of chastity belts-”

He held up a hand, “NO-no I am stopping that line of conversation right there.”

A gentle hand rested on one of his shoulders, and he turned to find Sunny standing over him her head tilted slightly to one side. The expression she had on was almost comical for an alien without human facial structures, “They’ll be fine.” Then she slapped him on the back making him stagger forward, “Now stop frowning, You should be excited.”

He straightened himself out adjusting his jacket.

To his side, Krill sighed and looked up at the sky with an almost longing expression.

“What’s your problem?” Sunny wondered 

The Vrul sighed, “The amount of time I spend on a class A death planet is really making me question my sanity.”

“You’re only now beginning to question your sanity?” Adam wondered wryly as he looked around the tarmac. Aside from a couple of baggage carriers, and people in bright orange vests, there was no one here, and no way to tell where they were supposed to go.

“Ha ha, funny ...Where are we going?”

“Guess we sort of just head towards the terminal?” He glanced towards the taxiways between them and the terminal and shook his head. That didn’t seem likely, but also…. There was no one here, “Or not…. I would expect at least someone to be here.”

Sunny crossed her arms in annoyance, “Seems kind of rude they would ask you to come and then just…. Leave you.” 

His eyes scanned over the tarmac once more, baggage carts, buggies, distant buses, a fancy black car, but nothing close by. He adjusted his bag over his shoulder, “May as well walk to those people over there and ask them. I don’t want to get in the way of the planes.”

Adam, followed by his extraterrestrial entourage slowly began heading in that direction. A bus rolled by them going the opposite direction, and the black car from earlier turned onto the same road to roll past. Adam kept walking.

“Commander!..... Commander Vir.” 

The group of them spun in a tight circle turning to face the car, which turned out to be a limousine, the front window rolled down, and a man in a dark suit leaning out.

Adam looked around like there was someone else by that name standing behind him before pointing at himself, “I ur…. Me.”

The man parked the car and stepped out reaching over to open the car door, “Mr. Ellis apologizes that he couldn’t meet you in person, but he hopes that you will find his personal car satisfactory. Adam blinked like a deer in the headlights, “Er… uh… are you sure you’ve got the right person?” He eyed the car.

“You stupid or something?” Conn wondered floating towards the door and vanishing inside the car, much to the driver’s confusion and surprise. He stared after Conn with wide eyes before turning to look at Adam.

“Believe it or not he's actually pretty tame for his species.” The commander sighed stepping forward and thanking the man awkwardly as he slid inside.

He wasn’t entirely sure if satisfaction was the word he’d use to describe how he felt. Everything, and he meant everything was extravagant and eccentric to the extreme. Crystal glasses, with the appropriate liquor, adjustable colored lights, heated seats in a fabric he couldn’t even name, the absolute definition of leg-room so that even Sunny was comfortable. There was a TV just above the far end turned to the news, a snack bar, a sun roof. He folded his hands in his lap afraid to touch anything for fear of damaging it.

Sunny scooted to sit next to him while Conn and Krill took the other side. 

Conn leaned back in his seat, “Not bad.”

“You would say that.” Adam muttered leaning a little closer to Sunny hands pinned between his knees so as not to touch anything.

Sunny had no such qualms sprawling out like she owned the place head resting back onto a fluffy set of cushions just before the window, “Now this, I could get used to.”

Adam disagreed, there was no way that he would ever be able to get used to something like this. In fact, at this moment he was wondering what he was even doing here, hanging out in famous people’s fancy cars with private drivers. He wasn’t special enough for something like that. In fact, he was a soldier, that was it, and arguably not even a very good one. He was just some lucky son of a bitch who had alien friends and a spaceship somehow by coincidence.

He should have been happy, but felt himself wilt internally as he looked around the car at all the fancy things.

Conn watched him from across the car but said nothing.

Unfortunately for him, Sunny caught the tension glancing between him and Conn. 

The were rolling out of the LAX tarmac as she spoke, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Adam interjected over Conn, who continued to speak through Adam.

“Boo hoo, oh woe is me, I’m not special enough enough to be here, I am just an average guy who's not even actually good at anything wa ... was.”

Adam snarled at Conn, “get the hell out of my head Conn.”

“You can’t just leave your mind dangling open for all your thoughts to flop out.”

“Thanks for phrasing the analogy that way Conn, I appreciate it.” he leaned back in his seat arms now crossed, “And yeah, I feel a bit out of place. I should be back up with my men doing something useful but here I am being treated all special by people who barely even know me. If they really did they wouldn’t be half as interesting. If they knew how half the stuff I did was pure dumb luck, or how i spend most of the scared out of my mind. How I’m not some kind of badass.” Sunny hummed deep in her chest, “Yes, the story of the man whose dumb lluck led him to being the most important human in the galaxy is totally boring. Yawn, I am falling asleep already.”

“You don’t even yawn.”

“Why do you think I said yawn instead of actually yawning then?” 

He growled, “My point is, I just feel out of place.”

“Welcome to being a celebrity Adam. Having dumb luck that put you in a position for people to look up to you. You think these people got here because they are ACTUALLY special. No, they got here because their parents were famous, or because they got into good acting schools when they were kids, or because they knew a guy. All of these people got lucky, aren’t actually special, and there are plenty of people out there more talented than they are, but at this point they are so famous no one cares anymore.”

Adam sat in silence contemplating the thought, “II mean…. When you put it like that.”

“You know it's because I am always right.” Sunny said smugly.

He turned his head towards the window watching the city pass by below them. LA was the largest and one of the most ancient cities on the continent. Of course it spoke nothing of a city like Rome or London, but it was still pretty impressive. The entire place was so shiny and white mixed with delicate greenery all built on the bones of the slums. Not only was LA one of the oldest cities on the continent it was also one of the richest. The further they went the nicer the already nice buildings got reaching towards the sky all shiny and white.

Massive mansions dominated the distance with high gates and private shuttle pads. 

The sky above them was dominated by flying cars, private shuttles, and the occasional jet. One mansion they passed by was so big, it seemed  as if the front facade went on for almost a mile intertwined with many decorative fountains and trimmed hedges upkeep exclusively by robots.

They turned down another street heading into the city with expensive outlet malls and large flashy brand names that probably cost as much as the warp core used to power his ship. He was both parts intimidated and stunned leaning towards the window to stare at all the strange people that walked the sidewalks.

He turned his head following a very excessively dressed man in a tailored ball gown that took up most of the sidewalk.

Where he grew up in the suburbs, there had been people who dressed according to plenty of other time periods, but the trend had been early 2000s mostly thanks to his mother who performed the modest almost utilitarian style of their clothing plus they had never been rich enough to afford new fashion. Jeans were cheap, easy to make, a staple of the poor masses. Not that they had been poor poor per say, after the war his father worked as a farmhand for Megafarm producing millions of pounds of produce, while his mother had quit teaching to pursue business in talor-making period accurate clothing for those who were into that sort of thing. As a result, his family had been middle middle class.

But this…. This was for the 1%. A place he had never even dreamed of seeing.

He looked down at himself again, shabby jeans, black T-shirt and a hand me down leather jacket from his older brother David, which had seen better days.

He sunk down in his seat.

They took another corner and pulled up to the gate. He craned his neck to look out the window glancing up to the large sign hanging over the gate which read.

HOLLYWOOD STUDIOS.

Named for the ancient strip of land which produced many of the early movies when film was in its infancy. Once famous for the land and the people who lived there, it was now famous for being the highest grossing film studio EVER. A powerhouse of film that practically monopolized the world of action. While a lot of people demonized the studio for being a monopoly on film, Adam could see why.

They made some good shit.

The gate buzzed open and they were driven inside. He HAD to get a better look rolling open the skylight and standing to look out the top of the car. Hundreds of people dressed in costumes, carrying props, cameras, equipment. Mouth open like an idiot he stared through open warehouse doors and onto virtual projected sets on which actors stood in full costume, or in motion capture suits. Camera men walked around in massive exoskeletons controlling up to ten cameras at once.

A dog trotted past with a handler, a dog that Vir recognized from plenty of movies in which she had starred tail wagging tongue lolling. He dropped back inside the car with wide eyes staring at Sunny who was also looking out the window with wide eyes.

The car came to a stop towards the end of the strip, but then picked up again rolling into one of the giant warehouses and pulling to  a stop. The engine cut, and the doors opened. He stepped out thanking the Driver.

“Commander Vir! Just who I wanted to see!” He turned just in time to catch Director Ellis, or more like be blinded by him, as he skipped up wearing his strange sequin suit and cat-eye glasses. Instead of going for the handshake the man grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, “It’s so exciting to finally have you here. You will be so excited to see what we have done. Just like you said, being as accurate as possible’ it's been a real challenge, but I assure you, you will be so proud. We have done so much research, and I have talked to experts everywhere” 

A mousy little woman scuttled after him holding two cups of coffee looking frazzled and exhausted as she tried to keep up with her boss.

Members of the crew looked up from where they were standing and a few exclamations of awe went up, and he couldn’t blame them, aliens were pretty cool. Despite Conn being a total asshole, he cut an impressive figure of billowing white ribbon and slow ethereal movement.

The man pulled back eyes widening at Conn, “You will be an absolute bitch to animate,”

“Match his personality.” Sunny quipped stepping out of the car.

She was greeted excessively by the director as well as Krill.

A sizable crowd had gathered, and Adam stepped back intending to allow his non-human friends the attention they deserved.

That’s not exactly what ended up happening. Stepping out of the circle he heard a shriek that made him nearly leap out of his skin. He turned to find a young woman with large glasses wearing a grey suit and pencil skirt. There was a pile of papers and a clipboard on the ground at her feet like she had dropped them.

Her eyes were wide as she stared at him mouth open.

“Er…… are you ok?” He ventured leaning down to pick up her papers.

When he stood back up she was still frozen her eyes wide. He offered her papers back.

That broke her from her frozen state but beginning with her hands which started to shake frantically in front of her. The shaking grew wider and wider, her expression grew more excited and she began to leap up and down squealing, “No way, no way…. No way no way no way.” That devolved  until she was simply squealing with excitement. 

Adam stepped back in shock and confusion, “It’s really you I can't believe it!”

She rushed forward arms out then paused, “Can I?” Her expression was so innocent and excited, her eyes so wide that he didn’t know how to respond.

“Er ...sure.”

She nearly broke his back wrapping her arms around him and squealing in delight again knocking her glasses askew. He grunted as the breath was crushed from his lungs. Despite being tiny she was surprisingly strong, and he felt his feet lightening upon the ground hands held out to the side still clutching her clipboard.

She stepped back after a moment with a big smile, her glasses canted at an awkward angle, “Can i get a picture with you.” She begged 

He glanced over his shoulder still not convinced that she hadn’t mistaken him for someone, “Um, Are you sure. I Maybe you have the wrong person.”

She shook her head vigorously giggling, “No, I’d know you anywhere. Commander Vir, the first man to meet sentient life, participated in the Drev war, commanding the first fleet of interstellar ships. You are my HERO.” She looked at him with eyes so wide, so innocent and starstruck that he hardly knew what to say.

He wondered if maybe he was dreaming.

“Picture?” She pleaded

“Um ... uh yeah, sure I guess.” She squealed again this time causing him to drop her clipboard as she grabbed him by the arm pulled him in and whipped out her phone snapping at least ten pictures of them before letting him go. “Mr. Vir it is such an honor.” She was saying, “I’ve read everything about you, all the declassified transmissions. Like that time you saved an alien race from extinction, or that time you ran a marathon on a A-1 death planet, or or like the three times you've saved entire planets.”

“Oh I…. really?”

She nodded, “Yes, Mr. Vir.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “You can just call me Adam.”

He was nearly defined in the next moment as she shrieked again and hugged him.

“What’s your name?”

She put her hands over her mouth eyes wide, “S-samantha, but- but my friends call me Sammy…..You can call me Sammy.” He blinked in confused surprise and a bit of self consciousness feeling himself go a bit red.

 She may have been star struck, but he was sort of struck by her being star struck. This had to be some sort of dream, even more confusing when he realized the circle of people he assumed had been there for his alien companions had ll circled themselves around him. 

Men and women, stage crew, and actors in motion capture suits gathered around wide eyed and smiling.

He spun in a slight circle staring around at all the faces.

A man stepped from the crowd, a young guy in a motion capture suit. He held out a hand, “Commander, Ezra Hemming. I Well I guess I’m the stunt double for…. For your stunt double? Keith Jenning.” 

“So? You’ll be doing all the legwork?”

The young man blushed.” I guess you could say that.” 

Did he seriously seem nervous? It seemed so strange, and all these people were looking at him, approaching him, wanting to talk to him. It was insane, he shook so many hands learned so many names in such a short amount of time. At some point there was a hydraulic hiss, and the crowd around him parted.

A woman walked towards them elevated on a set of robotic stilt legs, wearing a motion capture suit, and an exoskeleton that gave her an extra set of arms. Vir felt his mouth drop open. Rita Ortiz… the penultimate action hero casting choice, and someone he had a boyish crush on for…. Well a couple of years now. 

In her exo suit, she was as tall as sunny, which he assumed was the point, “Commander.” She said politely.

“Ms. Ortiz…. Er…. Can I….. get your autograph.” He stammered out feeling stupid almost immediatly, but to his surprse she broke into a wide smile.

“I was about to ask you the same thing. Make it a deal and trade mine for yours.”

He choked with a rather sporadic laugh not believing her in the slightest.

Some of the crowd finally noticed his alien friends and Ms. Ortiz seemed especially interested in sunny, for obvious reasons. The two stepped up to each other examining the other with a critical eye.

Sunny seemed pleased.

Samantha lurked next to him, and he had a feeling she was trying to be discreet, but it wasn’t working. He was still wigging out about this hardly able to believe it. At some point, someone grabbed him and dragged him towards the director's chair where Ellis was was talking to some of the writers.

He turned in his chair, “Adam…. May I call you Adam, Good, the writers and I were just going over the script, and well we have run into a few snags. You gave us a pretty detailed explanation on some of the things that happened, but this part right here, the part where you lose your leg….. It's very vague.”

Adam shuffled his feet awkwardly glancing over to where Sunny was showing the actress how to more properly move like a Drev. A few of the VFX people were there as well examining her armor, its color and debating how best to reproduce that in post. 

“Well I….. It was taken off during the Drev war.”

“I mean, yeah we got that, and not to push but…. Unless you want us to cut that part out.”

He glanced again towards Sunny.

“I…. its hard to talk about.”

A hand on his shoulder, “I understand, I quite understand….”

He mulled it over for a minute while the writers were talking heart hammering in his chest. He had never told Sunny…. Never really explained about his post traumatic stress related to that incident. Never really mentioned how long it took him to trust her, and he never would. 

He'd never fess up to the nightmares.

Because he didn’t want them to matter anymore.

“I can’t explain it to you but…. I can show you.” The group of them turned almost surprised, and he was honestly surprised at himself too. What he was about to do…. It was a bigger deal than any of them might assume.

“Sunny!” he turned, and the bright blue alien trotted over humming happily the way that Drev did. She seemed so happy, nothing like the creature in his dreams, his friend, his best friend.

“Yes?”

“I…. Well I need to show them how I lost my leg, hard to explain, so I thought we might show them.”

He watched Sunny carefully, and was probably the only one who noticed the slight wilt in her shoulders. The guilt flashing in her gold eyes…. Of course the thing in his dreams would never have felt that way, “Oh ... are you sure.”

He cleared his throat waving it off, “Of course, here.” he stepped forward motioning around the room, “I remember the rocks being sort of like this. There was a shallow sort of bowl like a pocket and some rocks here. There were actually a Tesraki and a rundi soldier right there, and I was over here.”

The crew, following his words began moving around the greenscreen landscape creating the sort of space that he was talking about.

“Now I had one of those older models M-23s pieces of shit, and a knife.” He reached out for the prop weapon offered to him, “And the drev had a spear.” He glanced towards Sunny, who was looking very, very uncomfortable, but someone handed her the prop spear. She looked down at it and swivel it in her hand like the thing was an extension of her body.

She didn’t seem particularly satisfied but didn’t say anything. He moved up onto the fake terrain, and she did the same looking over at him with concern. It was almost as if she knew that even though he had never bothered to tell her. 

He came up one side of the set while she came up the other; she had the spear held out ready, and he had the gun up. Of course, he dropped it on it’s sling when it supposedly overheated, 

He remembered this like it had been yesterday, how the rock had felt under his feet, the panic he had felt for the two defenseless soldiers she was stalking. He remembered panicking when the gun malfunctioned, he remembered how he wasn’t thinking straight. He remembered making the decision that cost him his leg.

He didn’t bother trying to go easy on her, catching her around the neck and raising his hand with the collapsable knife.

The world began to spin, and before his eyes he saw the ash and fire.

He heard the gunfire felt his body moving as it once had. Saw the dark shadow, heard the screaming and felt the hot air over his body. He remembered the knife biting into her skin. He remembered being thrown to the ground.

Set lights flashed around him as he slammed into the floor, padded but still painful as he rolled to the side. Sunny’s foot came down right next to his head as he rolled to the side cutting at her heels.

The creature reached down to grab him, but he rolled to his feet cutting at the hand.

He remembered the sweat trickling down his body from the great heat of the volcanoes. He remembered how the ash had coated the stone making things strangely slippery. He remembered the poorly equipped gear and the oversized shoes.

He remembered slipping backwards landing hard on his back as the spear cut downwards.

He remembered bone cracking and flesh splitting in half.

He braced for pain but none came. The fire died, the ash vanished, and he found himself on the ground hands over his face, a spear tip lightly grazing the outer carapace of his prosthetic leg. Sunny stood over him spear held in one of her lower arms. Though her posture was ready for a fight, her eyes….. So much more expressive than that of the creature he remembered from his vision, looked at him in worry and something that looked like pain.

He lay on the ground looking up at her, at her mercy, just like he had been on that day.

And he knew she wouldn’t hurt him.

She withdrew the spear and stepped back offering one hand to him. 

He didn’t hesitate to take it, and she hauled him to his feet.

Together, they turned to look at the spectators who were looking on in awe,and shock.

Quietly sunny began, “Our orders were to remove their limbs…. In our culture Disability IS death. We thought that simply removing their limbs would stop them…. We were wrong.”

Adam tried to keep his voice light, “I don't remember much, but I crawled about ….50 feet down that hill before someone managed to find me and stabilize me. The leg was completely gone, no hope of reattaching something that’s just gone.”

“That was….. Intense.” Ellis finally cut in, “We should have had some cameras rolling dammit. Can we recreate that!” He began ordering his men around, and for a moment, the two of them were forgotten in the crowd. He stood there quietly noticing on the instant as two pairs of arms wrapped themselves around him. Enveloping him in an armored hug that almost completely encased him…. Safe.

A voice at his ear.

“Don’t EVER make me do that again.”

He placed a hand over hers, “Never, I promise.” 

[aeide-thea]

This is a gentle request for any Geraskier fics you want to rec, because the number of them in the tag is a bit overwhelming but I KNOW there are gems in there 👀

i’m pretty sure i’ve reblogged things in the past! but it’s true that i haven’t done that in any systematic way, so—let’s see. under the cut are 20-ish recs alphabetized by author, which seemed like a good way of avoiding having to make any hierarchical declarations:

o, empathy by almostnectarine/@nectarine-pit: bodyswap! i forgot how much i loved this fic. geralt and jaskier walk a mile in each other’s shoes, and learn to appreciate each other better; this is keenly observed and thought-through, and frequently extremely funny. a thoroughgoing delight.

Jaskier pulled a face and swiveled the straps such that both swords almost fell from their scabbards at once, ruining the moment. “Geralt,” he said, “this leather itches. You’ve lived five lifetimes—” “Not that old,” said Geralt, in protest, and then, considering: “Maybe three.” “—and you never once thought, hm— oh, I see why you do that all the time, it is quite fun, isn’t it— hm, maybe I’ll add a little padding?!” His mimicry of Geralt’s tone was very good, although perhaps it was cheating, when the voice was already the same.

public displays of affection by autoschediastic/@bluesoaring: geralt and jaskier go to a sex party! (not to be confused with the other fic by sospes in which geralt and jaskier go to a sex party, which is also excellent.) if that wasn’t enough of a sell, well, you confuse me, but—the flavor of the power dynamic here is a little complex and unusual in a way i enjoyed, plus frankly the description of geralt stripped down for this party is really, uh. really A Lot. i admit to being biased in favor of sex party stories in general but this one is definitely a keeper.

to you always, also by autoschediastic/@bluesoaring: in which geralt is a demanding, insatiable bottom. ...honestly, this fic has significantly more emotional weight to it than that description might suggest, but i still stand by it. also the initial setup is just really funny to me, because jaskier getting hilariously outraged by geralt’s sheer infuriating geralt-ness is, like, my fave flavor of jaskier. (that’s a lie, every flavor of jaskier is my favorite flavor of jaskier, but i do really delight in this one.)

@blossomsinthemist’s mixing memory and desire series (wip) is basically my favorite thing ever, like, just truly perfectly crafted to please me personally. it’s h/c, and just astonishingly luxuriant and languorous and lovely—or, okay, let me actually just quote a comment i left on an early chapter:

this is just so exquisitely tender and molasses-lovely-sweet so far, my god the glimpses we get dimly through geralt’s hazy bemused perception of what jaskier’s feeling are so heart-clenchingly poignant—and then of course the glimpses of what geralt himself is feeling for jaskier without understanding it, this stunned rapt gratitude for everything jaskier is doing but also everything jaskier is, the lovely gentle sturdy solicitous gift he is & keeps making of himself to geralt, who would probably call it undeserved except that of course we can see precisely what in geralt has tugged this tenderness from jaskier, this terrible aching wounded gallantry that’s so astonished to meet with respite…

the meet death sitting (wip) series by @bomberqueen17 is my other favorite thing—much plottier than the previous, with a much wider cast of characters, and while i’m ultimately in it for the geralt/jaskier and therefore being strung along in exquisite agony while all sorts of plot things get in the way of any real resolution of that, it’s honestly worth it; what you lose in immediate gratification you gain in, like, a sense that this story inhabits a real, full world, with real events that aren’t just arranged to suit our heroes’ convenience. if i could only get you to read two things it would be this series and the previous one: between them they have my heart. anyway i guess i may as well quote myself again:

it’s the rich realistic interweaving of things that’s so remarkable here, how the absolute throat-thickening aches run abruptly up against the entirely mundane and all of it has to be coped with, because that’s life, and this story has life within it, in a realer way than probably anything else in the fandom, maybe anything else i’ve read in a long time. and of course a large part of me is so, so desperate for geralt and jaskier to finally come back together, with enough time and space to settle into a mutual secure tenderness instead of the current wordless, longing, poised-always-to-spring-away-like-deer-in-a-forest situation; but the story is coaxing me into a more adult patience, an appreciation for the smaller quieter incidental pleasures that aren’t the one subsuming great love, and then also teaching me to live with the wounds one inevitably acquired along the way, the pull and ache of those that makes the whole thing real, not a shining fantasy but a homely pie with a rich satisfying filling, savory and bolstering.

my body bruises at your touch by @brawlite: jaskier gets tied up by geralt as bait for the monster of the week, and discovers he likes it quite a bit. smut (and then aftercare) ensues.

demand an encore (wip) by emamel/@theaceace: jaskier is a witcher of the viper school, or used to be. he doesn’t remember it, but geralt does.

it’s been a while since i read this, but the way the layers slowly start fitting together is really satisfying: all the joy of what i think the kids call ‘identity porn,’ with the twist that here, it’s geralt who knows both identities, and jaskier who’s still in ignorance. ugh, i want chapter 3 now.

musica universalis by flirtygaybrit is bookverse and clearly so—it’s not romantic, but there’s a particular ambiguous flavor of solicitous tenderness that elevates this ‘friendly drunken hookup’ scenario to something memorable for me.

of cherries and dandelions by heyriel: in which a still-virginal jaskier bites off more than he can chew, and tries to disguise it until he can’t anymore. as i said to the author:

this is lovely and realistic in its navigation of, like, trying to Be Cool and the ways that can sometimes get you in trouble as a young sexplorer—geralt is so good to jaskier here and i’m having feelings about it!

also geralt uses a dildo on jaskier, which was not a thing i’d known i wanted before reading this, but it turns out i’m very decidedly here for it! i haven’t seen a ton of sex toys in geraskier fic and this story makes me wish there were more.

gentle-sharp and strange by lisztful has some excellent touch-starved pining geralt, also a performatively public bath scene with very satisfactory sexual tension, also an Ancient Tradition which is maybe the thing i remember most about this fic.

i know that you would want it (if i could sink my teeth into you) by objectlesson is... look, there’s an actual emotional arc to this story, but really what i always remember about it is that it’s got the most overwhelmingly visceral rimming scene i’ve maybe ever read? it’s a lot, it’s a gift, go read it.

@pasdecoeur has several stories that are very funny with some very piercingly erotic moments! briefly sketched in some ways and more pining than porny but no less effective for it.

benefits by @shastafirecracker is a pwp story in which jaskier is first surprised to find geralt wants him to top, and then determined to give geralt the best dicking he’s ever had. jaskier’s inner dialogue in this one is really fun; geralt’s exterior dialogue is true to the show in that it’s minimal but nonetheless includes a bad pun. :)

even a small love by shecrows/@leighway is like. you think you know how things are going to go, and then jaskier balks and it abruptly swerves sideways and develops a whole plot, and then comes back around to where it started, but deeper and better. don’t you love how you can summarize a fic without saying anything meaningful or even helpful about it? anyway: read this one.

snowmelt by silklace/@silkcoeur is a/b/o and somehow both extremely hilarious and extremely hot in full measure. the banter is a fucking delight but so are the tension/sex/feelings.

It wasn’t until they were well on the road away from town that it really hit him, though possibly he should have been paying attention to the way the backs of his knees had started sweating the minute he’d seen Geralt walking towards him outside of Yennefer’s manor, or to the way his throat had gone hot and dry despite the taste of sweetness still on the back of his teeth from the wine skin he’d pilfered from her pantry on his way out. In his defense, he’d still been recovering from spending the prior evening steadfastly spitting his insides up onto his outsides. Also, he tended to always get a little sweaty around Geralt, a fact they were both apparently extremely united in assiduously pretending was not happening.

the sevenfold path by star_flaming/@europeansdomusicalsbetter: in which jaskier is demonstrably extremely well educated, and geralt has feelings about it. (i also have feelings about it, but mine are in my pants.)

you are in my blood by @suzukiblu​: au where jaskier is a bruxa. this alters his character significantly—hard to be too skittish about bloodletting when you’re a vampire!—but the story’s so engaging you probably won’t care? plus, uh, hot. :)

Jaskier’s just debating how much trouble he’s actually in when Geralt, marvelously, talks them out of it. After that, well... Jaskier still wants to eat him very badly, but he supposes it’d be a bit ungrateful of him. Geralt isn’t very impressed with the song he writes for him, unfortunately—which, rude—but doesn’t try to run off and leave him either, so.. Well, Jaskier’s a bit smitten. A delicious-smelling witcher who can talk his way out of being murdered is very impressive. And he always has wanted a pet.

taran (@iamtaran)’s manhandling without plot series has no sex but lots of violent, compellingly visceral hijinks and i like to think of it as preslash. three times geralt hauls jaskier out of trouble.

Jaskier is flat on his back with his chemise rucked up to his armpits, salve burning on his bruised ribs, breathing hard; he is drunk, but not nearly as drunk as he was when he threw that first punch; Geralt is stupidly strong and has him pinned beneath one hand and the sheer girth of his own hips, looking grumpy and short on patience, and under everything—the aromatic menthol and chamomile smell of the salve, the aching of his cheek and lip, the relief of seeing Geralt just as upright and uninjured as he had been when he left, Jaskier is… He had thought he was furious. He still is, somewhat. Like… like a seed is a flower. It was, at first, before it became something else. And given enough time it might become such again. It is what it is in the meantime, however. Fury. Seeds.

last but not least, @toyhto​ has a bunch of fics that crack me the fuck up: geralt is unbelievably oblivious to his own emotions even as he acts on them, and it’s just—it’s so, so funny. also sometimes quite sweet, and sometimes quite painful! there’s a particular air of, i don’t know, almost see-spot-run impenetrability to the writing here that lends itself perfectly to the thing the stories are doing, where geralt is just operating totally on a surface level and, like, feelings are moving in the deep but he can’t quite see them...

...and that’s all for now! more to come later, maybe; but this seems like plenty for a first pass, and anyway i’m blurbed out.

#the witcher #geraskier #fic #recs

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

I don’t care

summarry: a reddie x daughter where the losers are over and the daughter comes home from school with a minor injury and they later found out she was bullied. so they give her tips and maybe even fighting lessons lol

A/N: this was requested by anon I hope you enjoy! 

warnings: homophobia as reason for the bullying

Water sloshes over the sides as Richie dives headfirst into the pool. It drenches Stan’s trousers, who shoots a murderous look towards Richie resurfacing with a deep breath.

‘Refreshing’, he comments, shaking a full body shiver at the change of temperature. Chloe watches from afar, disposing her bookbag on the grass with a loud clutter. Weekend arrives and she’s eager to start the plans scheduled. On Friday a pool party, on Saturday a trip on uncle Ben’s boat, and for the last day they’re going to see Richie perform live on stage.

All the losers promised they’d make it, and they did, it’s been a while since the group has reunited, work and personal issue getting in the way, but none of that matters. Sometimes Chloe thinks there’s no way they won’t get mad at one another when someone cancels yet again, but then the rejoins puts her at ease. They care for each other more than enough to stop a small, unimportant thing from ruining it. Most scattered around the pool, like uncle Stan and Chloe’s pops in the water, but her dad and uncle Bill stood a far end away from water range, a smart decision Stan begrudgingly had to admit.

'The prodicale child has returned, Richie enthusiastically announced, waving his arms back and forth. ‘Mini me is back.’

The losers greet her, warm smiles and gentle hands pulling her in a hug. Bill’s positively buzzed, the butt of many jokes at his expense of how much of a lightweight the man really is. The first try to capture Chloe in an embrace goes haywire, and if it wasn’t for Mike supporting his weight, he would have fallen face first.

It sends the rest of the groups in hysterics, not including Bill, blushing red tainted cheeks. ‘Already uncle Bill?’ Chloe goads, covering the underside of the drink in his hand in case he loosens his grip.

Waving of the concerns, Bill wobbles, aided by Mike, back to the sun chair to rest. Eddie motions a soda her way, wordlessly asking if she wants one.

‘Yeah, but I’m going to go change first.’

Her shirt is too tight for the humidity hanging in the air, and she longs for a swim, so she needs swimming attire in order to do that anyway.  

----

‘Oh absolutely not’, Bev declares stiffly, her mouth set in a straight line and hands on her hips. ‘There’s no way any niece of mine is wearing that.’

Richie cackles, his head thrown back in amusement over Beverly’s reaction, following her gaze to his daughter, wearing a Hawaiian long-sleeved shirt over her bathing suit.

Chloe follows his laughter, doing a pirouette to show off her t-shirt. ‘I think it’s cool.’

‘You’re only saying that because Richie brainwashed you.’

‘I agree with Bev, one Richie fashion disaster is more than I can adequately handle,’ Stan concurred, heaving a sigh at Richie’s childish reaction of sticking out his tongue.

‘It’s not like she’s wearing it to school Beverly, and if my daughter sees me as a fashion icon, than I think we should respect that. Fuck knows she’s the smartest among us.’

A little cough draws his attention, and Stan does nothing to hide his intend.

‘Okay well Stan is up there.’

‘Please kid, I’m begging, don’t become a second Richie. Fight those parts of you that stem from him.’

‘Hey fucking excuse you, she’s my daughter too.’ Eddie heatedly adds, chopping his hand through the air to drive the point home.

‘who’s w-w-who’s d-d-daughter?’ A stutter the predominant tell that Bill is well on his way to being hammered.

‘Shut up Bill, you’re too drunk to participate in this conversation.’

Chloe giggles, knowing that the teasing remarks from her family are just that, teasing. She then finally steps closer towards the pool. The grass beneath her bare feet is strangely relaxing, the sensations of little pricks reminding her of summer days and ice creams.

‘Come her,’ aunt Bev beckons, her hand circling around the small indents of nails in Chloe’s underarm.

Without realization, she hisses in pain, retracting her hand and covering the sore spot with her remaining hand. The playful mood everyone participated in pops like a bubble.

Beverly blinks in shock, surprised by the reaction. The chatting in the pool ends abruptly, the remnants of an engaging conversation ebbing away.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah, just peachy.’ A bird flies overhead, chirping away, an excellent escape out of the conversation Chloe refuses the hold in front of everyone.

‘Uncle Stan, what kind of bird is that?’

Stan eyes her suspiciously, not uttering a word to help her, and Chloe glowers at him. Thanks for nothing.

‘Let me see please’, Eddie asks his cheeks blown out, worry etched across his face. At this point, Chloe is trapped. She can’t deny something is wrong, and she can’t withhold her arm because that would make everyone even more suspicious.

‘Fine,’ she grumbles, bunching the fabric of the long sleeved shirt to reveal indents of fingernails buried in her skin, not sever enough to be of any concern, but bad enough that it is visible.

‘Chloe,’ Eddie perturbs, his fingers hovering above the wounds while he mulls over what to do in his head. ‘What happened?’

In one smooth motions, Richie lifts himself out of the water and strides resolutely their way, blind without his glasses on but still thoughtfully studying the body-langue of both Eddie and Chloe. He stoops down to inspect the wounds himself, than straightens up and tries his best to stare straight in his daughter eyes, missing by half a mile.

‘Someone did that to you?’ The intentions makes it sound like a question, but it’s a statement, and one that is impossible to refute. Nail marks aren’t accidental.

‘Did you get these cleaned?’ Eddie frets, his left hand coercing her to move to the kitchen, where they keep an emergency kid. Richie has had one to many mishaps in there.

It’s a sure sign that Eddie is freaking out and building up to an anxiety attack, worrying and fretting over someone to release part of the stress before it bubbles over.

‘Dad’, Chloe mumbles miserably, planting her feet in the ground to resist any prodding. ‘It’s not that bad.’

‘Who did this angle cake?’

‘Just someone from school alright. It’s not a big deal.’

‘Honey, It is. No one is allowed to hurt you in any way,’ Bev argues, her chin jutting out, only calmed by Ben’s presence.  

‘Is there anything we can do? T-t-talk to whoever did this? A teacher? Say the word and we’re on it.’ Bill’s positively sobered up thanks to the severity of the topic of conversation, he fumbled over his words only once.

‘Beat him or her up? I’m not afraid if it’s a girl, I’ll hit anyone who tries to put their hands on my baby.’

‘Yes and don’t listen to uncle Ben, he might say something fucking stupid like we’ll talk to whoever did this calmly.’

‘Yes, cause that’s the best option Richie-‘

‘It has nothing to do with me okay? And I doubt she even planned on physically hurting me. I tried to remove myself from the situation, and instead of letting me walk away, she tried to keep me in place by grabbing me. Hence the superficially’, Chloe aimed the word at her dad, ‘scratches.’

‘It obviously has something to do with you. Why else go after you?’ Stan probes. The way he talks and demands thing without having to raise his voice is fascinating, like he can bend anyone to do what he pleases without breaking a sweat.

‘Because’, Chloe pinched the bridge of nose, contemplating her chances of resolving the situation without admitting what it was all about, but between her protective fathers and the solicitous of the losers, she estimated her shots slim to none.

‘Because she believes homosexuality is wrong and that dad and pops are wrong for loving each other.’

Richie grimaces bitterly, slumping his shoulders and sneering at the words sinking in. ‘Like Bowers all over again’, he spits furiously, bailing his hands into fist. Next to him, Eddie is pensively staring at the wounds on Chloe’s hand, shame speed racing through his body for him and Richie being the reason this happened to their daughter.

‘Chlo, I’m so so sorry.’

‘No. Don’t you dare apologies. It doesn’t matter. Not to me anyway. She’s a bitch, and she’s wrong for her opinion, but I can’t make her see your relationship the way I see this. I can’t force her to open her mind and broaden her horizons, then I’ll be equally as bad. I love you guys, and I don’t care you’re gay. If other people do that’s their problem and not mine. I hid the comments as I knew they would hurt you, but we know better than them. I’m going to continue living my life open and excepting of everyone and everything and she will walk around angry and upset at everything in the world she considers unnatural. There’s no outcome in which she wins, except if we let her words bother us.’

With a gentle pull, Chloe buries herself under her dads chin, tucked away in safety as her pops caresses her hair and presses a kiss there.

‘I’m so proud of you.’ Eddie confesses, barely understandable with his voice cracking through the lump in his throat. ‘Don’t ever forget how much we love you.’

‘We’ll have to discus some precautions. Like a buddy system or some shit. Or maybe Mike can teach you some strength exercises.’ Richie ponders, thinking ahead on how to avoid a situation ever again occurring. ‘But yeah, we really couldn’t have a better daughter.’

#reddie #reddie x daughter #My writing #richie as a parent #eddie as a parent #richie as a dad #eddie as a dad #it chapter two imagine #the loser club imagines #richie x eddie

[jenomark]

➔Pairing: Haechan x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: Xiaojun, Ten, Jaehyun ➔Genre: Supernatural Thriller ➔Warnings: Violence | Death  ➔Word count: 5,139

➔Definition of stranger 1: one who is strange: such as a person or thing that is unknown or with whom one is unacquainted

  He checked his teeth in the mirror. He puckered his lips and stretched them with his fingers to make sure his facial expressions would appear right. He picked the lint from his jacket. His shoes were too big for his feet, but they were all he had. He practiced his speech on the way there, his tongue hitting the front of his teeth to pronounce the words correctly. He felt like he could pass on without a hitch.

  When he got to the office, the line was over fifty people long. Each man before him wore a similar suit: lint-less and grey, void of any personality. A pass only went to those that could blend in with the horde. He saw a man a few heads away wearing an orange pocket square that he knew would be flagged. You couldn’t draw attention to yourself. Doing so would result in an on-the-spot fail.

  He checked the time. He looked back and saw the line growing longer behind him. The whir of machines in the office made him feel tired. He checked the time again. He tried to shake away a fleck of dirt from the top of his shoe. He moved up a few feet. He yawned.

  As he got closer to the front, he could hear voices. The nerves in his stomach were eating him from the inside out. He adjusted his glasses and looked behind him, once again. The smile he gave the man behind him did not change the mans face. Everyone in the line was miserable, waiting, exhausted down to the bone. When he faced the front, a scream pierced through the air. Most of the men in line did not react, but he couldn’t stop himself from jumping in the air in surprise. The heart in his chest was trying to see its way out of his body. He had heard rumors of what happened to people who jumped the line, each one more horrific than the next. He never wanted to be on the receiving end of one of those punishments. 

  “This is insane.” he muttered underneath his breath.

  He craned his neck to see any commotion, but the front of the line looked miles long. He watched the people sitting at their desks in the vast office, their eyes on their computer screens as their fingers clicked away furiously. Any interruption would upset the system, he knew. Any interruption would result in another fail, or worse.

“Hey,” a voice whispered behind him. “Hey, pss. Psss, hey.”

  He turned around to see the man, one person behind him, vying for his attention. The man was the only one stepping out of line, his body too animated, and his voice too jarring. He ignored the man and turned his attention back to the front. He had to keep focused. He heard the “Pss.” again, but he was good at staying disciplined. It was best not to draw too much attention to yourself he repeated to himself. It was best to fly underneath the radar, or they could find any reason to indict a fail. 

  His time finally came, and he was too scared to look at anyone but the woman at the front, a large podium hiding her body. She was pretty, not a hair out of place, and a uniform that looked just as drab as his suit. She looked bored by her job, her ruby red lips firmly set into a grim line. He wondered what it would be like sitting here day after day, your only job deciding which people get a chance, and which people don’t. 

“Name.” she said.

“Xiaojun.” he said. 

“Class?”

  Xiaojun brought out his Class T badge and presented it to her. It was the lowest class possible, but he presented it as if it were wrapped in gold foil. She took the badge and scanned it before handing it back to him. She did not care what class he was in. 

“Reason for passing through?” she asked. 

“Work,” he said. “Business, I mean.”

  Since it was Xiaojun’s very first time passing through, he didn’t know what to expect. The less you said, the better. It was hard to get to the other side if you had marks on your badge, if you were bad, or too talkative. Luckily, Xiaojun’s history was squeaky clean, and he could keep quiet as a mouse. He was proud of himself.

“Your return date is three Sundays from now,” she said. She stamped a few pages on her podium and looked up at him, her eyes not really seeing him. “Not returning on that exact day will result in your death. Do you understand?” 

“Yes.” 

She continued, “ Any and all decisions on the other side are yours and yours only. You break the rules, you’ll be removed indefinitely. Now, if you go into the room on the right, someone will attend to you. Have a safe trip and remember where you belong.”

  Xiaojun looked to his right to see a plain white door with a small window waiting for him, a door he would have sworn wasn’t there just moments ago. He turned back to the woman to ask a question, but she was already ushering the next man forward. The noisy man behind him was desperately trying to get the woman's attention, and people were starting to notice. Before Xioajun walked into the room, he saw several of the desk people tear their eyes from their screens. Interruptions weren’t uniform, and would result in failure. 

“Hurry up,” a voice said, pulling him forward. “You’re not the only one here today.”

  The room was empty except for a man waiting by a white, brick wall. He was in a suit so black Xiaojun felt he was getting ready to be sucked into a black hole. His blonde hair was parted severely down the middle of his scalp, the ends just touching the tips of his ears. There wasn’t a bead of perspiration on his forehead or upper lip, which wasn’t something Xiaojun could say about himself. Xiaojun approached the man, ready to extend his class T badge if need be. He was too afraid to look the man in the eyes, but Xiaojun was sure he was used to how people looked at him. The murky red of his pupils was hard not to notice, and even more disturbing was the way they looked Xiaojun up and down, as if his eyes were an x-ray machine. The man swept his eyes from the bottom of his feet to the top of his head, all while giving him a look of distaste at what he saw.

“Your skills,” the man said. “Show me.”

 Xiaojun wasn’t used to showing off what he could do for those who didn’t need it. In the grand scheme of things, he felt useless. So many others could do great things, but his skill didn’t warrant a lot of respect. But Xiaojun stepped up anyway, his hands gesturing out like a circus performer.

“I need one of your hands,” he said, keeping his voice gentle so as not to alert the man of any danger.

 The man, whose name badge read TEN, held out his hand without hesitation. He had seen his share of skills walk through the door. Most skills were quite trivial, but each one, in Ten’s eyes, was important in their world. Ten giving Xiaojun his hand meant that he could document every abuse of power in the other world. Ten would remember Xiaojun, cataloging him into the back of his mind for future reference. 

“This might hurt a little.” Xiaojun said.

  Before Xiaojun could take hold of Ten’s hand, a siren sounded. Through the small window, Xiaojun could see the noisy man being dragged away by two hulking figures. The noisy man’s screams were loud, the sound of his fists connecting with muscle too unsettling for Xiaojun. The tantrum the noisy man was having made the atmosphere grow darker. The energy was shifting, and Xiaojun felt scared down to his core. Just as he was getting ready to face Ten and ask him for directions on what to do or how to help, Ten jerked his hand away like it was Xiaojun who was causing a scene.

“Lucky you. Demonstration over,” Ten said. “Cross through. Return three Sundays from now. Failure to come back will result in the death of yourself and everyone you know.”

  Ten ran out of the room and straight towards the fight, his red eyes the only thing Xiaojun could pick out from the crowd. Xiaojun looked at the blank wall before him. There was a ripple in its face, one that beckoned him forward. It would take a few seconds for him to cross over, to finally secure his first turn into the other world. Instead, Xiaojun went to the window, his nosiness making it difficult for him to break away. The other world could wait. He tip-toed so he could see everything and stuck his nose up against the glass. On the other side of the window, Ten was standing before a bunch of people who had finally controlled the situation in their favor. The noisy man was still freaking out, the veins in his neck moving like worms. The ones assessing the damage were all talking, and everyone around them was observing the situation closely. Not many people looked as fearful as Xiaojun felt. It was his first time witnessing what happened when you didn’t follow the rules. 

“What will they do to you?” Xiaojun asked out loud. 

  The noisy man dropped to his knees. The sound of his knee caps hitting the hard floor was enough distraction. The men holding him loosened their grip for a second, but it was enough for the noisy man to get to his feet and hurl his body towards the room Xiaojun occupied. At the last minute, Xiaojun moved out of the way and backed into the corner. The door to the room flew open and banged against the opposite wall leaving a dent. The noisy man stepped through and locked eyes with Xiaojun. The veins in his neck were breaking through his skin like tentacles that threatened to wrap around Xiaojun’s throat if he got in the way. With cold fear running through his veins, Xiaojun pressed his body against the wall.

“I won’t hurt you.” Xiaojun said to the noisy man.

“But I will.” 

  A man entered the room. Xiaojun had seen him before. His name was Jaehyun, and he was someone everyone knew about but no one ever got to see with their own two eyes. Before the noisy man could breach the brick wall barrier and escape, Jaehyun brought his hand up before him and snapped his fingers once. A loud static crack was sent through the air, and the noisy man burst into fine white powder faster than Xiaojun could blink. The powder was all over Xiaojun, in his hair, and on his perfectly lint-free suit. He coughed some up, and blinked in disbelief. Meanwhile, Jaehyun was completely clean, and he was breathing heavily, as if obliterating a man was a sexual release for him. 

“One down,” Ten said, stepping into the room. “So many more to go.” 

 Jaehyun put his arm down by his side and gave a dismissal look to Xiaojun when he saw him still standing there in the corner, like a coward. He swiveled around to Ten and touched him on his shoulder. 

“Johnny and I are coming by later,” Jaehyun said. “Have someone clean this mess up. We have a lot of work to do. I’m not dragging this on the bottom of my brand new shoes. ”

“Is he still out there in the world?” Ten asked. “I’m surprised no one’s caught him yet. But, I suppose, it is like trapping smoke in a bottle.”

Jaehyun looked at Xiaojun, turned back to Ten and nodded. “Soon enough.”

  Xiaojun stared at Jaehyun’s back as he walked out of the room. Ten followed, his red eyes serving Xiaojun a brief glance of disapproval.  They kept talking, their voices gradually tapering off as distance was put between him and them. Left alone in the room, Xiaojun brushed some of the white dust from his hair. He felt like he was going to be sick whenever he remembered that it was someone else’s remains. 

“You have twenty seconds to vacate,” a cool voice over the loudspeaker said. “Choosing not to step through will result in a-”

“-A failure,” Xiaojun said. “Yes, I know.”

  Xiaojun stepped up to the barrier and touched his hand to it. The wall rippled again, the white brick disfiguring, as if it could feel his energy getting ready to be sucked into it. He moved his fingers into the other side and felt each one stuck in what felt like a cold jelly. 

“Okay,” he said. “No fear. Maybe, a little fear.”

  Xiaojun’s arm went through the portal first. He pushed his chest through and walked into it, the black veil swallowing him up. When he came through the other side, it felt like hours had passed by. He walked out into the sunlight and looked around. He was in a fast food parking lot, and someone was honking their car horn. 

“Get out of the fucking way!” the man in the car yelled. He slammed his meaty fist down on the car horn and let it blare until Xiaojun moved out of the way.

“Nice place.” Xiaojun muttered.

 He settled himself on a grassy hill, watching as a nearby seagull munched on discarded food. On this side, Xiaojun noticed that his suit was completely clean. There was no white powder on his body, no proof of what he had been through at all. He looked at the sun and held up his hands to block it from view. When he was done eagerly taking in everything around him, he shoved his hands into his pockets and went on his way.

  You didn’t say anything. You watched a last wisp of black fog fly into Haechan’s ear and disappear. If you could stomach that, you could stomach anything. You looked him in his eyes, any uncertainty slipping away. You belonged there. Your eyes swept over his body, at his suit and shiny shoes. You noticed that he had two arms, two legs, two eyes, a pair of lips and a nose. There were no teeth like a monster would have, and no red eyes staring back at you. In fact, he was almost too normal, too human-looking. You resisted the urge to pull at his cheeks and stretch them until he formed into something else. Haechan peered into a mirror hanging on the wall and straightened his tie. He made eye contact with you through the reflection in the mirror. His gaze made you feel sleepy, so you sat on the edge of the bed and slumped your shoulders forward.

“There’s something wrong with me.” you said.

Haechan ran his hand through his hair and smiled. “That wasn’t the conversation starter I was expecting.” 

  Sluggishly, you gave your attention to the motel room door. You anticipated someone coming through it, splinters of wood all over the carpet, and a bullet through your heart with your name on it. You imagined people in military gear stepping in, their boots forcing the carpet to sink in, and how they’d step over your lifeless body. At that moment, Haechan snapped his fingers in front of your face, and you looked up at him. You looked but you didn’t see. You couldn’t focus for too long. You assumed you were in shock, but shock felt an awful lot like horror. He knelt before you and kept waving his hands in front of your face. Eventually, your eyes started following his fingers as they moved from left to right.

“I remember.” you said.

  Haechan groaned and rested his palms flat on his knees. He picked himself up off the floor to give you some space. You thought he would pluck a beer from the mini fridge and take a long swig, but he didn’t. You thought about asking him to give you one, but you needed to be on alert. You were already failing.

  A memory of that day flashed through your mind. You looked around the room at the damage that was no longer done. It looked like the room was never destroyed. So much felt different, yet so much felt the same. Being around Haechan again felt like you had never left him. 

“What do you remember?” he asked. His voice was soft, soothing. He pulled out a chair and sat down. He leaned back, stuck his hand into his pockets and pulled out his knife. It clattered onto the desktop beside him, spinning around in circles on its face. He had hardly touched it.

“What’s that for?” you asked.

“Protection.” he said.

“For who? Me or you?” you asked.

Haechan just smiled and repeated his earlier question, “What do you remember?”

“Everything,” you said, your eyes concentrating on the spinning knife. You remembered the initials: L.D. “I didn’t, originally. I woke up the day after feeling like it was a dream. It wasn’t a dream.”

“Maybe you’re dreaming now,” he said.

You glared at him and blinked slowly. You continued. “ I couldn’t put any of the pieces together, but I knew they existed. I could feel them, just out of sequence. I was convinced they had happened the way I saw them, and that I was crazy. I couldn’t think about it too hard, or try to remember. If I did, I began to feel my throat closing in on itself.”

  You touched your hand to your throat, tightening your fist and squeezing. The knife stopped spinning, and it was pointing directly at you. Haechan picked up the knife and held it in the palm of his hand. Your eyes were brought downwards, to a backpack laying on the floor. It was the kind of backpack you’d take hiking, but this one wasn’t full of anything but clothing. He placed his foot in front of it so you wouldn’t fixate on it.

“You know how this all sounds, right?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said. “About as crazy as watching you turn into a cloud of smoke and not freaking out about it.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “Continue.”

”There is nothing else to say,” you said. “ I filled the days up as best I could. It didn’t really feel like I was there, just moving through like a...like a..stranger in my own home. The nightmares wouldn’t stop.”

“What kind of nightmares?” he asked, his interest perking up. Up until then he was listening to you, humoring you. He leaned forward to hear you better. 

“Ones with monsters who have big teeth,” you said. “Sometimes they were people I knew. Mostly my therapist. I always woke up before I was eaten alive.”

“Were you scared?”

  You looked up at him. He didn’t have a notebook in his hand, but his position was the spitting image of your therapist. Seeing him like that irritated you, and he could tell. Haechan stood up and kicked the chair back into place. It was too late. You could feel the red hot anger jabbing itself through your ribs.

“Was I scared?” you asked. “I almost died. You almost got me killed, and then I go home and dream these horrific things. Of course I’m scared, Haechan. I don’t know who you are. I don’t even know what you are.  I go for two weeks without remembering anything but you, and then things start happening one after the other when I’m just trying to survive. I was attacked. In broad daylight. In my own home.”

“Attacked?” he asked.

  You had him on edge, and you liked the way it felt. Your words roused him and wiped any smirk from his face. He looked towards the door like you were earlier, his eyes on the knob. For the first time, you noticed the industrial-sized locks all along the back of the door. Each one was different, most of them thick. You didn’t remember either of you locking any of them and yet, they were all in place. It felt like the only thing that existed was you and him in the room, nothing else. 

“There was a pizza man.” you said.

“What did he look like?”  he asked, tearing his eyes away from the door. “Teeth, like in your dreams?” 

You blinked. “I think so. Actually, I don’t really remember. He was chasing me down the stairs. I made it outside and he disappeared. I hailed a cab. I knew I had to find you, I knew the answer was to come back here. I was waiting at the curb, I looked up and- ”

“-were you followed by anyone?” he said. “ I need you think really hard. It will be difficult to remember, but you need to try.” 

“No,” you said.  “The only person I came into contact with was the taxi driver who, by the way, hates this place.”

  Haechan went to the window and looked out. The sun was setting. It didn’t even feel like you had been there that long. He took the string from the side of the curtain and pulled it. The thick curtains came together, meeting in the middle with a kiss.

“Are you keeping someone out?” you asked, your eyes on the door. “Or are you keeping me in?”

  Haechan didn’t answer you. He was going around the room touching things and picking them up, just to put them back down again. He opened the bathroom door and looked inside. Before he could shut it, you put your hand on the door to keep it open. The inside of the bathroom looked different from when you had last left it two weeks ago. It looked like it had just been redone, with a brand new tub, window, and an updated toilet and sink. 

“I think we need to have that conversation now.” you said, looking at him. “What the fuck is going on?”

  Haechan closed the bathroom door. He went over to the fridge, opened it, and took out the long awaited beer. Only, when he took it out, he threw it against the wall, causing the bottle to explode. You covered your face and head with your arms, not daring to look up again until you could hear his breathing become even again. A shard of glass flew by your face. You focused your eyes on it as it made a turn and hovered in mid-air. Many fragments followed, moving in slow motion to join the first one in the middle. They all spun in circles, like a tornado of glass, until they mended itself back into the fully intact bottle it had been before Haechan obliterated it. Before the bottle could drop back to the ground and shatter again, he caught it and set it on a table.

“I’m not from this world,” he said. “I’m not like you.”

“What does that even mean?” you asked. “Are you from outer space? Are you from Europe?”

“You know what I mean,” he said. “Everything you’ve witnessed is real. The monsters. Me. The taxi driver’s fear is authentic, and there is a good reason for that fear. This motel has a portal to the other side in it. How you’ve been feeling for the last two weeks? It’s residual energy from that portal. You’re not supposed to remember me, or anything about this place. What I am, where I come from, it’s a little hard for humans in your world to grasp. It’s affecting you. You feel tired, right? You feel like you can’t think straight? That’s my world trying to protect itself from you. “

 You tried to digest everything he was saying, but the grogginess was palpable. All you could see at the front of your mind was the glass. You remembered how the motel looked before you left it, and how it looked now. Haechan made that happen. You opened your mouth to speak but closed it again. Your thoughts were hard to collect and bring together. When you opened your mouth once more, your voice was raspy. You said, “Where do you come from? Is it... Hell?”

  Haechan looked offended. You registered the hurt in his eyes before it disappeared. He tried to recover with a clearing of his throat. Before he spoke again, he reached into his pocket and handed you his knife, urging you to take it with his eyes. You didn’t.  “Not hell,” he said. “That’s a very different place. I’m not evil. Take the knife, if you don’t trust me.” 

“If you’re not from hell,” you said, ignoring the knife. “Where are you from? What is it like there?”

“It’s another world, sort of like a dimension. It’s almost like this world, only a little different. Time is different, “ he said. “Everyone’s...special.”

“Special? Can they turn into a rolling fog too,?” you snorted. Your voice was on the edge of hysteria. You were trying to make light of the situation, trying to convince yourself that what you were hearing was a prank. 

“Some of us,” he said. “Everyone's skill is different. Some people have one thing they can do, others have more. Some use it for good, some for bad. Power runs adjacent.”

“Do all of you turn into monsters?” you asked. “Is that what you really look like underneath that handsome face.”

“The monsters are...” he began to say before he changed direction. “ You think I’m handsome?”

“No,” you said, covering yourself.  “Don’t change the subject.”

“Anyway,” Haechan continued. “You don’t have to worry about them. They are bottom feeders, and I won’t let them hurt you. It’s the ones that look like me you have to worry about.”

“Like those men who came for you that day?” you asked. “They didn’t sound like they wanted you alive.”

Haechan nodded. “If they find me, I’m as good as dust. One snap and it all ends. They’ll never stop looking for me. Usually, I keep moving to avoid them, but something..or someone..has been keeping me here.” 

  The way his eyes bore holes into yours, the way he cocked his head to the side, made your skin burn underneath your clothes. 

“What did you do to have them hunting for you?” you asked. 

“I never went back,” he said. “They don’t like it if you don’t come back. ”

“Why not?” you asked.

“Because this isn’t my world,” he said. “As you can see, if people know about us, it puts us in danger. Less time means less time for something to happen that’s out of our control. “

“Why risk it in the first place?” you asked. “If other dimensions exist, why come to this shitty existence?”

He shrugged. “You’re all easy to use. Your bodies. Your minds. You’re play things. For a lot of us- the normal ones- there is something about humanity we admire. The chance to be normal is one hell of a drug. It’s very hard to resist once you’ve had a taste.”

  You were aware that he was still holding the knife out for you to take. You took it from him and tossed it onto the bed. It bounced on the mattress and drew both of your eyes to it. You stared at the handle where his initials were. You met Haechan’s eyes and felt a pull towards him. As he was opening up to you, the sleepy feeling threatening to pull you under was starting to lift. Your mind felt more clear.

“Telling you all of this has repercussions, “ he said. “I don’t know if you want to throw that knife away so easily.” 

“I can handle myself.”

  You went to him, crossing the room without fear. You reached your hand out to touch his cheek but thought better of it at the last minute. When you went to pull away, Haechan caught your hand and rested his cheek gently against it. His skin was soft and warm. He felt human. The tender moment lasted only a few seconds before he rejected it and moved away from you. 

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” he said. “If they’re made aware that you know about any of this, they’ll hunt you down. If you think the hunt for me is scary, imagine them hunting a life they have little regard for. You don’t want your family nailing missing posters for the rest of their lives.”

 “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t freaking out right now,” you said. “But I would also be lying if I said I didn’t feel safe around you. You feel different.”

“I’m the most wanted man in both worlds right now,” you said. “Be careful of what you say.” 

You licked your lips. “Yeah? And what kind of man is that? What can you do? Is your power limited to what I saw?”

  Haechan laughed. There was no lightness in it, only darkness. He sneered and crossed his arms. You wished for the tender moment back, for him to reveal what kind of humanity he picked up while living in your world. Instead, he let the laughter bubble out of his throat until it spilled over, and there would be no putting it back together again.

“There is still so much I don’t understand.” you said, trying to get him to stay open. “You’re telling me that this hell dimension exists, that there is a portal to it right in this very motel, and that the people in that dimension have special powers. They want you dead. They’ll want me dead because I know the big secret. I need more answers, Haechan.“

“Your world,” he said. “-this human monstrosity- is just one place of many. It exists separated only by a thin veil. You can see it, if you pay attention. The glimmer of heat in the street on a hot day. Diners at 3 a.m. with pies in their showcases, whose slices never really disappear.  Have you ever seen something move out of the corner of your eye? That feeling creeping up your spine, those eyes watching you while you sleep.Those sleep paralysis creatures you think are demons are real. The things that move across this world if you truly paid attention would drive you mad, if you knew. Lucky for us, humans rarely notice anything. You spill into bars unaware of who is watching. You get into taxis and make chit chat with the drivers. You offer up so much of yourself without realizing. I’m beginning to think you’re all the monsters you’re so afraid of.”

#haechan #lee donghyuck #donghyuck #lee haechan #nct #haechan week #nct 127 #nct dream #nct fanfiction #haechan fanfiction #nct haechan #ten #jaehyun #xiaojun #donghyuck fanfiction

[popculturebuffet]

The Color of Friendship Review (Commissioned by WeirdKev27): A World of People

Happy Black History Month! Another day, another comission from longtime supporter of the blog Weird Kev and like a good chunk of his-non duck asks, he asked me for something outside my usual wheelhouse. In the past this has meant an episode of the short lived fox show whoops in which we found out how Santa dealt with the end of the world, didn’t know how doors worked, and interacted with some characters so thin you could remake the episode with just Mick Foley in a santa suit and carboard cutouts playing the characters lines and it’d be about the same, and earlier this month Sorry Wrong Meeting, an episode of a sitcom i’d never seen an episode of the Jeffersons about the KKK. So unsuprisingly his big comission for Black History Month was the 2000 Disney Channel Original Movie, The Color of Friendship. 

I couldn’t find much on the making of the film, which dosen’t entirely suprise me as at the time this came out, Disney was releasing around 10 a year and whlie that stopped shortly, it still was a whopping 6 a year for some time, ocasionally more ocasionaly less, slowly dwindling down to the two of year we have now. Though it’s still an ongoing concern and has been since the channel started in 83, closing in on 40 years ago, so it’s still impressive Disney hasn’t just outright phased them out. Then again the popular ones make them a lot of money and some like High School Musical and the Descendants Trilogies have broken out so big they’ve lead to spinoff books, tv series in the latter’s case, and all that stuff making them money hand over fist. So making some cheap movies that MIGHT end up making them rich and usually star people that are already on shows they have or were at one point is a no loose proposition, especially now they add an extra release to the Disney Plus callender twice a year. And while the library has it’s gaps and i’ve griped about them enough.. I will say it’s stil la damn good library and it’s nice to be able to watch a film like this, as the dvd was LONG out of print and likely horribly expensive, and while renting it was an option, it would’ve chipped into what I got commissioned for the film. Still would’ve done it it just would’ve sucked to loose money on the deal, if only two bucks, for something I had no control over. Still would do that over adding it onto the comission fee. Point is stuff that’s not been easy to get for some time is now just a few clicks or taps of the remote away, and having the VAST majority of disney’s long and storied history from theatrical to dcom to weird tv oddities like.. this thing

I don’t know what Fuzzbucket is, and frankly I don’t want to know.. I mean I will for a comission or something but i’m not going to go out of my way to find out what that thing is and if it can give me scabies through a telvision screen despite being fictional and proabably long dead. At least I tell myself it’s long dead so ic an sleep at night without worrying about that thing breaking into my house and watchnig me while I sleep changing “SOON JACOB, SOON”. So yeah while you’ll hear me complain about the gaps in DIsney Plus’ library a lot on this blog. 

I will give credit where it’s due, and what is on there is pretty expansive and now includes the Muppet Show, which I give them full credit for as that probably took a LOT of work and money to make happen. Plus WandaVision is fucking fantastic, especially now i’m finally all caught up. 

But while as I said I couldn’t find much on the making of the film I did find a bit on it’s inspiration: It was inspried by a short story wrtten by Piper Dellums, a writer, poet and activist, and daughter of Ron Dellums. Dellums is a notable congressman who fought against apartheid and constantly fought for a bill to divest from South Africa, something that SHOCKINGLY, Ronald Regan tried to veto because he was a racist disney anamatronic what did you expect, and all in all seemed pretty awesome. He sued Bush SR to try and prevent Desert Storm, in his earliest days in office had an exibit near his phsyical office of vietnam war crimes to try and hold them acountable and in general seems to be a fascenating, hardworking man who constantly and religiously fought for the people and against war. 

The story was a real life account of the Piper’s experince housing a South African Student, Marie, who the Delums Family expected to be black.. but turned out ot be white. During Apartheid, south africas racist as hell and horrifying goverment system of segregation that wasn’t abolished till the 90′s. As expected she was racist, but as a proudct of the horribly racist country she came from and much like with her fictional counterpart in this film, slowly grew to realize how fucked up her homeland was and by the time she went back, became an activist She and Piper were very close but her story ends tragically as eventually Piper stopped hearing from her after she was arrested and despite attempts to talk to her.. it was clear by the silence, and by the fact Piper visited South Africa post-aparthied to help and likely would’ve seen her.. that she was likely quitely killed by the state. But her story thankfully lives on, so join me under the cut to see how a 20 year old disney movie aired during black history month handles this difficult real life story, racisim and the 70′s. 

The Cast: Quick bit about the cast since I usually do this for first episodes of an animated show and wish i’d done so for my other film reviews so far. Though to keep things simple, i’m only doing the main four cast members, especailly since frankly outside of Mahree’s parents the rest are more supporting roles that don’t have a lot of screen time and in hte case of the south african embassy workers, are just there to be racist card board cutout villians.  Piper, who keeps her name from real life is played by Shadia Simmons, who eventually retired from acting to become a High School and Acting Teacher. During her career she was in a bunch of Disney Channel Original Movies, including the first two Zenon Movies, and was in a major role in a bunch of live action childrens shows: I Was A Sizth Grade Alien, Strange Days at Blake Holsely High, and Life with Derek, the only one of which i’ve seen and even then barely so I can’t comment on the rest of her work. Simmons does a decent job in the film, and does shine in the more dramtic scenes, not the best part of it but certainly not bad at all. 

Lindsay Haun plays Mahree, and had more of an acting career after this one, having a small recurring role on True Blood as Hadley, while also directing some smaller films. Haun is easily one of the two highlights of the movie and the best of the two main tween actresses by a mile. More on that in a bit. 

Next we have Carl Fucking Lumbly as Congressman Ron Dellums. Carl has had a long and storied career and the fucking is because of what I best know him from: Playing the Martian Manhunter Jon Jonzz on Justice League. And let me not undersell it: his version of Jon is waht made me LOVE the character, still do to this day, being the first time I encountered any version of Jon and the one I still love the most, a stoic man who tries to adapt to a world he feels he can never be a part of, adding shades to his stitled demeanour to show off his emtitons and in general being the heart and soul of what made this verison work and made me love the character with his performance. He’s done other stuff too including Cagney and Lacey, Doctor Sleepand what have you.. but he’ll always be Jonn to me and that’s not a bad thing in the slightest. Unsuprisingly he’s the other standout here. 

Finally we have Penny Johnson as Ron’s wife and Piper’s Mother Roscoe,  who played Captain Sisko’s love intrest on Deep Space 9 and was one of the leads on castle. Haven’t seen either of those but she does seem awesome and does a terrific job here. 

Moving on to the film itself.. it’s really fantastic. It has some awkwardness and goofy bollocks as you’d expect from a disney channel original movie in 2000, but it handles a really heavy subject, race relations, gracefully and clearly with the goal of educating an audience with a lot of white kids in it about race. So I can praise what it does right i’m going to be handling the parts that are a bit wobbly first so I can get to the good stuff

Awkwardness and Goofy Bollocks:

First the out and out criticism: The films TV Movie roots show in places, as this film lacks the polish these films would have later this decade, with the film barely having an opening title sequence and just sorta throwing you in, though to their credit it does open with the utterly awesome Back in Love Again, because 70′s. 

That slaps and that’s an undeniable fact. What’s also an undenaible fact is the film dosen’t try the hardest to be very 70′s in it’s sets and what not, though it does do it a little with the clothes and that not being the case with Mahree is intentional, as her family while wealthy is from another culture and one literally and metaphorically behind the times. 

I will also say Shadia Simmons is a decent actress, but is mildly weak in comparison to the other 3 in the leads, but its more the result of putting a pretty standard child sitcom actress up against two experinced actors who know what their doing and one whose about as experinced as her, but simply has a LOT to work with and goes above and beyond. It’s less that she’s bad and more that she’s simply not as good as what’s around her, and in general I tend to go easier on child actors since it’s not an easy job for a grown adult much less a teenager, it’s very pressurey and there’s a reason a LOT of them bottom out as they get older or retire all together. 

I will say though that Piper’s brothers are awful and I feel are only there because she actually had brothers. The actors try, i’m not pinning this on them but writing wise their just two little shits who contirbute ntohing of value to any scene their in, being generally way to young to get into the heavy topic at hand, and mostly being there for unfunny shneanigans. They aren’t in the film too much otherwise they might’ve ruined it for me, but if Shadia struggles a bit agianst sttronge perofrmances imagine who younger actors with the stage direction “Be the bane of my existence” and you’ll MAYBE see the problem. 

The film also loves cheesy time passing montages, including an actual factual shopping montage, easily the goofiest, but it’s something you’d expect from a dcom and helps lighten the mood. That’s a running theme outside the brothers there really isn’t anything too silly.. until the last act.  See in the last act, the film tackles the real life death of Steve Biko, a South African activist against apartheid who was captured by the state and very transparently murdered in jail. with the government claming he killed himself which no one bought because why would they, and it sparked riots worldwide and finally got the US to take Apartheid seriously according to the film. Though as I mentioned earlier Regan did not in case you thought the republican party being terrible and deeply racist was a brand new thing. It was not. Guys like Tucker Carlson and Former President Trump are a symptom, not the disease.. though they certainly look and feel like some form of plauge. Point is Mahree is breifly taken by the embassy.. whose staff who take her feel like the Disney Channel Original Movie form of Nazi’s. The heavy accents, the way they compose themselves... I half expect an elderly indiana jones to show up to whip the piss out of them. And dont’ get me wrong, the only diffrence between these pricks and a nazi is the fact they don’t call themselves nazis, this isn’t a nuanced horrifying racist to be scared of but a saturday morning cartoon version. 

While  white supremacists in real life can be cartoonishly evil, again see trump and carlson, it does kind of undercut the seriousness and nuance of things to have your villians be cold, cackling cutouts who are 5 seconds away from saying “You are part of the rebel alliance and a traitor take her away” to our heroine, especailly since Mahree’s reaction to being taken away and confusion at everything and at being treated like a prisoner by her own people are very painful and very well acted.   I do get showing them as monsters, because they were, but given Mahree’s father who as a south african police man was DEFINTELY ONE and even outside his racisim doubts and downtalks his own daughter, still feels like an actual person, if not a GOOD person, they could’ve done better and did in the same film. 

But that stuff aside.. I really can’t find much that’s honestly that silly or bad and as you can tell what little I did was more a product of being a tv movie. So now i’ve got the negatives out of the way

This Film Is Pretty Good: It truly is, for a lot of reasons. But the biggest is the nuance. It could’ve been easy to just have Maree as some racist kid needing to learn a lesson who was openly cruel and easy to jeer at.. but the film went iwth the reality: that she was instead an extremley privlaged and insulated girl who simply NEVER knew better. To her her very racist and segregated world is just the way the world worked for her and she dosen’t even consider when the Dellums come to pick her up minus Ron these aren’t servants and her own servant’s words fall on deaf ears, as the poor woman tries to make it clear how miserable her life is and how much she deseprately wants this child to do better. Marhee is never actively malicious even when, due to the shock of her all black host family, she baricades herself in Piper’s room. It’s obnoxious sure and CERTAINLY hurtful and the film makes no bones about it and Piper rightfully calls her out on it. The film dosen’t let her get away with any intetnional racisim like that and after Piper calls her out, she realizes she’s been selifsh and makes a genuine effort. And even then the film makes a good choice in not making it an easy road to realization. Mahree makes a genuine effort in the first place not because of any big revelation or anything, but because she simply hears her dad in her head telling her she’d give up after a week and that, coupled with Piper’s words, makes her see herself as a selfish brat. Even after she’s floored by a mall where black and white people stand side by side aand casually talks about horrors like ID Cards like i’ts a GOOD thing, because that’s what she’s been taught by her dad. That black people are happy being told where they can and can’t go when no they weren’t they simply had no chocie in the matter. And while we do see early on when an asshole at a restraunt assaults a waiter for an accident that Mahree clearly isn’t okay with the more horrifying side of things, she still dosen’t quite grasp WHY that happened, simply that it’s something that does reguarly she dosen’t like. It’s excellently, and unsuprisingly called back when they visit an ice cream place in the states and something similar happens.. but the guy takes it in stride, even ordering a sundae, to Maree’s confusion. 

It’s what makes the film work and all the more striking: As Roscoe makes clear to Ron, whose admant about nto having a racist in the house, this is not her fault. While the film makes it clear Mahree’s behavior at first was not okay and her prejudiece is not okay, it also makes it VERY clear she’s a product of a terrible system and terrible parenting from people who choose to benneift from the system instead of challenge it. She’s only like this because she hasn’t had a reason to ever think diffrent and just took her parents at face value and no mater the country, this is something that sadly happens far too often: Someone hating a group or thinking discrimination is okay because that’s how they were taught and that’s all they’ve known and the only way to change that is to challenge that opinon and try to get them to have some empathy and see the other way and as this film shows it’s a struggle.. and at the end of the day while the Dellums make a concentrated effort, Maree is the one who has to realize what her parents taught her is bad and her country is inherently flawed and NEEDS to change, just like ours did, and STILL badly needs to. 

And that’s where the nuance kicks in as the good congressman is understandable in not wanting a racist in his house... but his wife is equally right that Maree is not some easy symbol of his hatred towards south africa, but a girl who grew up knowing nothing more than the fucked up system, and eventually he comes around, realizing , especially after she apologizes for him even thinking she’d use a racial slur on piper after a very powerful conversation with the two and piper accidently saying she used the South African N Word, almost accidently getting her friend thrown out, that she simply hasn’t been outside her shell and gently guides her to keep reading roots, even letting her take it with her if she wants back home. The film shows the full pain of the situation  but also shows change is posisble. Again it’s not easy, Mahree has a panic attack waiting in an almost all black line in school and it’s shown to be as horrible a thought as it is., but she DOES change and it comes off as real, as someone realizing the system they grew up with is broken and needs to be fixed and she can’t just sit back and let it. 

What makes this happen, besides the aformentioned kidnapping by saturday morning cartoon racists, is Piper confronting her after a friend from south africa forces Piper to acccept that while her and Mahree are friends, Mahree might not seee her as equal and Piper in turn in a heated argument and easily Simmons best performance of the film, that things are broken and wrong and that her “firend”, her nanny/servant back home, is not happy. It leaves Mahree crying and Ron telling her the honest truth: Change was, and again still is but this was 2000 and while we should’ve had this talk disney channel wasn’t ready for it, needed to make things better here.. and tha’ts what south african’s doing> Fighting for equal rights at last. It’s some powerful, heavy as hell stuff you woudln’t expect from a line of movie that also include a robot house, before that was an actual thing, a merMAN dad MerMan, a boy slowly turning into a leprechaun, and at least two diffrent movies centering around wacky kidnappings. It’s a nuanced and hard look at race, as hard as late 90′s jsut turned into the 2000′s disney could get mind, aimed at kids and the film, whiel stilted really has my utter praise. It’s genuinely moving, well acted and teaches a valuable message that while not eveyrone can change.. it dosen’t hurt to try and help them, as well as the equal message that change start with YOU. someone has to WANT to be better and learn and actually let other people in to help them. And I wont’ lie and say this is the most naunced or subtle film.. at time’s it’s about as subtle as a ralph wiggum throught he window

But sometimes you don’t need to be. It also taught kids about apartheid, not me as I barely saw the film, but many learned of something ghoulsih that had barely ended at the time of the film’s release, something I only learned about as a teen via bloom county and a diffrent world, which has an utterly awesome apartheid episode “A World Alike”. Seriously check it out if you have prime, as it shows that america isn’t the only country with a deep history of ingraned racisim. And was it an easy way to have an anti racisim narriative without fully confronting america’s own racist history? Yup. Just.. yup. Can I blame Disney Channel for it when they clearly, while equipped to tackle racisim, weren’t ready to tackle something that dense or heavy, and while Proud Family later would there’s a diffrence between a 20 minute one off episode of a cartoon and 90 minutes of film? Yeah. For what it is and for what the time period is, I applaud this film taking on such a heavy topic with grace. Some goofyiness here and there yes and some lack of subtly.. but still grace. For what it is is, it’s pretty good and i hope to show it to my nieces one day soon. It has i’ts heart in the right place and thus has a place in my heart. See you next rainbow. 

#the color of friendship #disney channel #dcom #disney channel original movie #black history month #black lives matter