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cazimagines · 3 years

Note

Thank you so so much for the engineer headcanons! If I could request again for Niki Lauda? Could I get HCs for them reestablish physical affection/intimacy after his accident? Like I imagine his (gn) partner would have to be careful not to hurt him when the burns are still fresh & he might recoil a bit after seeing the scarring (& hearing people talk about it like in the movie) until they remind him like ‘hey I know a lot of things have changed but the fact I love you isn’t one of them’ & maybe they end up more affectionate than before - 🦇

Of course! Thank you for the requests bat anon, they are always so detailed! 😊

- The crash was the subject of all your nightmares. Every night you would wake up to see him crashing all again. Seeing his body disappear in the fire. You could feel the harrowing feeling of sickness and worry as they drag his unmoving body out of the car. Even at the distance they kept you at, you could see the blood, the melted skin and you knew things would never be the same.

- Now you were sitting next to his body in the hospital. It had been four days and he has still not woken up. You held his hand in yours as he laid there, and it was odd but you don't think you had ever held his hand this long before. Physical intimacy, apart from times in the bedroom, was rare for him. You knew he cared for you, he just didn't understand how often you needed to be reassured or treated nicely because of it

- Bandages covered his face tightly to the point where you could hardly see him. Maybe that was the point. When you had asked about the injuries on his face the doctors grimaced. They didn't want to tell you the extent of it and that was enough for you to know it was bad. They assured you that they had worked hard to heal it, treat the injuries as best as they could but the scaring would still remain.

- You were by his side when you felt his hand twitch in yours. You instantly looked over to see his eyes fluttering open. Pain swarming them instantly but when they glanced over to see you, there was a relief.

- You quickly went to get the doctors who told you to wait outside while they checked upon him. When they were done though you were allowed back in and you refused to leave for four hours. You rambled to him about anything, said anything in your mind, how worried you were for him, how much you loved him, how you would never leave him. He could hardly speak back, just gurgle but the way he squeezed your hand in his was enough for you to know he appreciated it. He appreciated more than you would ever know.

- It pained you to hear the yelps of pain coming from him as they removed the bandages. The way he grunted, practically screaming out in pain every time they moved a little bit from his burns. It broke your heart. You loved Niki and you loved the passion he had for the sport but at that moment, seeing how pained he was, you wished nothing more than that he never took up racing again.

- But it was Niki Lauda. Of course, he would. Much sooner than anyone had anticipated.

- You were with him every step of the recovery and you begged him not to, or at least wait till next year when he had recovered more but he couldn't wait, not when he was seeing James Hunt win those races and in the end, you didn't have the heart to tell him no. It made you worry with sick seeing him go back into that car again, his burns still aching as he wore the helmet but you were also so proud of him. So proud of his determination, courage, strength.

- Things were harder for the two of you though in many ways, especially intimately. Before while he lacked affection outside of the bedroom, she certainly made up for it inside. What they said about F1 drivers was true, even out of the car they had to go fast, and with the pent, frustration, he had every time James won a race or annoyed him, he would express with you that night, if you even made it to the bedroom that is.

- But since the accident, it was like his sex drive had vanished. At first, you were careful around him, anxious you might hurt him and that's why for the first few months but after that, you tried to instigate something he would brush it off, or even worse he would leave the room. He chooses to sleep on the sofa rather than in a bed with you when you tried to start something and it hurt you for you didn't know what was wrong. Did he not find you appealing anymore?

- The press were always following you and Niki, speculating about the two of you. Both you and Niki were private people and that's why the news wanted to know everything about the two of you. Now with Niki looking the way he did they were nothing if not tormenting towards you and Niki. Rumours speculated about the deterioration of your marriage, that you were cheating on him, even some claiming you were cheating on him with James!

- Everything came ahead one day in a press conference. "What did your partner say when they saw your face?" the journalist confronted Niki. You were watching from the sidelines and felt dread and anger pool in you from those words. "They said, sweeties, you don't need a face to drive. Only a right foot"

- Niki was good at laughing things off, he was brash, straight to the point but this journalist wouldn't let go of this. "I'm being serious. Do you really think your marriage can survive? With the way you look now?"

- The room became dead silent as anger flickered in Niki's eyes. "And I'm being serious, too. Which of your assholes said this?" but no one dared to speak up, "Fuck you, press conference is over" he spat out, tearing his microphone off and quickly storming out of the room where you swiftly followed.

- You called out to him yet he continued to walk. It was only when you grasped ahold of his hand did he finally stop to talk, and even then he refused to look at you, instead glaring at the side. "Niki what have I done wrong?" you murmur. "Was it something I said?" you ask but he shakes his head, "No love, it's not you" "Then what?" you ask attempting to raise your hand to cradle his face but he flinches away from your touch but he finally looks you in the eyes. "Isn't it obvious? I'm not stupid. I know I look like shrivelled walnut. I don't want you to pity fuck me or pretending to like how I look"

- "I don't care about your appearance Niki. I'm not fickle like that. I love you for who you are, the asshole underneath. Now stop being such a cry baby and kiss me already" you argue, a new fire in your eyes determined to make Niki realise just how much you care.

- He looks back at you with admiration, his doubts about himself, his appearance slowly flowing away as he looks into your lustful eyes. Leaning down he finally kisses you and in the backrooms of the garage, you lose yourself to each other, letting out all the pent us lust you two had.

- After that, you two were more affectionate, more than before his accident. Hand holding, hugs, kisses. He showed you with everything after realising just how much you cared for him and how much he loved you back. Even the press were posting news articles where they got pictures of you two being affectionate and for once you two didn't mind being in the public eye, as long as everyone knew how in love you two were and how you weren't going to let each other go.

TAGS: @shrekboobies @arianalilyblack @wonderwoman292 @justreadingficsdontmindme @thehuiabird @zemosimp420 @lieutenantn @neoarchipelago @cable-kenobi @edencherries @faustlyaccused @julyvegan @prestigious-tea @hannahbal-the-fannibal @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @competitivepomegranate @welcometothemxdhouse @flutterskies @rumblelibrary @mywinterivy

#niki lauda #niki x reader #niki fluff #niki lauda x reader #niki lauda x you #niki lauda fanfiction #niki lauda fic #niki lauda rush #rush 2013 #daniel brühl #daniel bruehl #daniel bruhl

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snickerl · 3 years

Text

Of Miracle Births and Other Wonders

tagging @today-in-fic

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

The lady behind the reception desk sends Mulder and the two kids up to the fourth floor of the hospital. They find another reception area with another helpful nurse. She tells them a doctor will be with them very soon to give them an update on Scully's condition. The few minutes they have to wait tears every nerve in Mulder's body, putting his patience to a hard test. Then, to his great relief, a good-looking woman in her late thirties approaches them. "Hello Mr. Scully, my name is Dr. Hanson, I am taking care of your wife," she says, holding her hand out to shake his.

"Uh, nice to meet you, Doctor, but my name is Mulder. These are our children, Emily and William," Mulder says, nudging them both in front of him. "How is Scully? I mean, my wife? How is she?"

"Hello everybody," the doctor says good-naturedly. "Your wife is perfectly fine, Mr. Mulder. She is doing great with her breathing technique. Her cervix is at 5 centimeters, so we still have some way to go. The baby is in good shape, she is in good shape, so we believe we will have a smooth delivery in a couple of hours. Are you all coming to the delivery room?"

William is aghast, his eyes saucer-wide. "What? Ew, no way! Gross!" He shakes his head vehemently. "Never ever!"

Mulder looks at his daughter. "Em?"

Emily thinks for a moment but quickly decides against it. The thought of seeing her mother in pain, even if it was for a good cause, makes her uncomfortable. "I'd rather stay with Will. We don't want him sitting here all by himself," she says.

"I don't need a sitter," William snaps, "I'm not a baby."

"But you definitely behave like one," Emily fires back. "Now shut up and be nice so dad can look after mom and doesn't have to worry about us at each other's throats out here."

"Alright," Doctor Hanson says. "The waiting area is over there. There are magazines and a vending machine. If you need anything, ask the nurse at reception. Follow me, Mr. Scully...I mean Mr. Mulder, sorry...your wife will be happy to see you." She leads the way to the delivery room. Mulder presses a kiss on Emily's hair and waves at William who has already plummeted into a chair. "Okay, kids. See you later then," he says and hurries to follow the doctor.

"Say hello to mom from us," Emily shouts after him, "and good luck!" She looks after her father who disappears through a swinging door marked Deliveries, then trots toward the waiting area to join her brother. She places herself in a chair next to him, looks around, gets up again to leaf through a pile of magazines on one of the tables, finds nothing of interest, goes back to her chair, and lets herself fall onto it with a sigh.

"You could've gone with dad, if you wanted," William tells her without looking up from his phone.

"Nah, I'm good."

Both sit in silence for a while. William is totally absorbed in a game on his smartphone, Emily pulls a history book and some pencils out of her backpack and starts reading, writing notes on the pages in different colors here and there. William shakes his head when he sees her doing that. "That's so old school, sis."

"Well, it's good for me. This way, the information stays longer in my brain than when I read it on a screen. You may call it old school, bro, I call it efficient mnemonics."

"Whatever," he sighs, his eyes back on the screen.

"Hey, what you said in the car, that mom doesn't care about us anymore, what did you mean by that?"

"I meant what I said, whatever the baby needs comes first, and we will play second fiddle. Or maybe even third. But I don't care. If things get unbearable, I will ask to go to boarding school. They can play house with the new baby then and I won't be there to bother anyone with my presence."

"You're being ridiculous, Will. Mom and dad will never let you go to boarding school, and I can't believe it will be anything like you just said."

William only shrugs. The narrative in his head has solidified like concrete, and he can't imagine a worse place to be right now. The best he can do is immerse himself in this online game and forget about what is happening at the other side of the door his father vanished through. After some hours of playing (thank God he brought his charger) and a short nap with his head leaned back against the wall, his stomach grumbles. "Are you also hungry, Em?"

"Well, I could have a snack. How long have we been waiting?"

"We came here at 10:45 am, now it's almost 6," William tells her, looking at the big clock on the wall of the waiting area.

"Wow, seven hours already. Poor mom. I wonder why dad hasn't given us an update."

"Do you think something is going wrong and he doesn't want to tell us?" William says, his voice trembling a bit.

"I don't think so."

"It's not so unlikely at mom's age."

"And how do you know?"

"I read stuff."

"You read stuff. Where?" Emily has problems picturing her brother behind a pregnancy textbook.

"On the internet, where else? If you google 'late motherhood' you get thousands of hits. And they all tell you women should have babies in their twenties and thirties, not their fifties. There is a reason for that. Nature doesn't want you to have a baby when you're old."

"Mom's not old."

"For having babies she is. She should be a grandmother rather than giving birth."

"Well, if she was a grandmother, I would already have a baby," Emily points out pensively, then adds a determined, "no thanks!"

"I just can't believe they let this happen."

"Let what happen?"

"Getting mom pregnant. Why? How?"

"Well, I can tell you how..."

"Ew, don't!" William imitates a gagging sound. "But why?"

"I guess it just happened."

"There are ways to prevent getting pregnant, I hope you are aware of that, unlike our parents apparently. I don't want to be an uncle on top of this any time soon. How could they have been so dumb? I don't get it. For all the times mom lectured us about condoms and safe sex, she didn't follow her own words." He shakes his head showing his disapproval and lack of understanding quite clearly. "I will never have sex, that's for sure."

Emily gives a slight chuckle. At fourteen, her brother most certainly doesn't have any idea of the joy of it. When he gets older and starts fancying girls, he might rethink his attitude, but something else is hitting her the longer their conversation goes. "You've given this a lot of thought, haven't you?"

"Well, what else was I to do? It has been the main topic in our house for the longest time. I guess, sometimes they even forgot I was still living there."

"Bullshit."

William is done explaining his thoughts. His sister obviously isn't getting the point either, just like his parents. "Now are we getting something to eat, or what?"

"You hangry?" Emily asks with a smirk and he is glad she has taken the bait and they changed the topic.

"After seven hours of wasting my time in this stuffy waiting room, I think I am allowed to have a bite to eat. Do you have change for the machine?" The boy is inwardly fuming at his father for once again neglecting him by not giving him money for food.

Big sister overtakes Em again, "I am definitely getting us something more nutritious. There has to be a cafeteria somewhere with sandwiches and a drink with less sugar than what I see in that machine." The idea of having to deal with a cranky brother on a sugar-high isn't very appealing. She gets up from the chair, her mind set on improving her brother's mood with a tasty snack. Plus, the hunt for food will give her something to do instead of mulling over what her mother is enduring at this very moment in the delivery room. "Text me, if you hear something," she tells her brother before she leaves him alone.

He tries to distract himself with the game again, but his thoughts keep going back to six months ago when his world turned upside down. The situation was surreal. His parents had prepared one of their usual Sunday family dinners, Emily had come to join, and with the dessert they served them the news of the pregnancy. His sister's piercing shriek of surprised joy hurt his eardrums and he almost choked on the pie he had in his mouth. His mother annoyed him with science book citations about the finer points of late motherhood and male ongoing virility that made him want to cover his ears entirely and yell 'too much information' at her. The worst was his dad though. The puppy eyes with which he was looking at his mom and the silly petting of her still flat stomach caused a severe tickling in William's throat. To this very day, he hadn't gotten past the shock. He shakes his head to make the unpleasant memories disappear.

And then, of course, what had to happen happens: Emily is gone for about fifteen minutes when Mulder appears in the waiting area with an ear-to-ear smile on his face. "Waiting time is over, the baby's here! It's a girl! A healthy, beautiful little girl," he announces, his voice full of pride and also relief. He looks around, surprised to find William alone. "Where is your sister?"

"Getting us a snack. Is mom alright?"

"She is. She did great. I am so amazed by that woman." Mulder's whole face lights up. "She sent me to get you guys. When will Em be back?"

"I don't know. She's been gone for about 20 minutes now, it shouldn't take her much longer. I mean only if she hasn't met a cute guy she needed to get into a conversation with." William rolls his eyes so hard he sees the back of his head, his voice high-pitched on 'cute guy'.

Mulder is still so high on adrenaline that he doesn't chime in, although he too has been annoyed more than once by his daughter's tardiness, and the reason has often enough been a 'cute guy'. "Okay, gotta go back to Scully, I don't want to leave her and the baby alone for too long," he says. He points toward a long gray hallway with several doors on each side. "We're in room 302 over there on the right. As soon as Em gets back, come and join us. Mom is waiting for you guys."

"But dad," William laments in vain, his father is already around the corner. "Great," he mumbles to himself. First, they drag him out here and make him wait endless hours in an uncomfortable chair only to be here when the baby is born, and now that it is born, they don't have a problem with him standing around for God knows how long until his tardy sister is back. Typical. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, types in 'get here asap', his fingers flying over the screen, and slams the send button.

Impatience gets the better of him soon. There is no more sitting in the chair and playing online games for him now, he is pacing the waiting area, glad that nobody else is there to see him in this state. If Emily isn't back soon, he'll explode, he thinks, but it takes another 20 minutes until he sees her leisurely strolling down the hallway. He sighs in relief when she finally stands in front of him, a cardboard tray in one hand filled with two drinks and something to eat he can't quite figure out, and some flowers wrapped in paper in the other. "It's about time!" he lets her know.

"Sorry," Emily says quite relaxed, "I was just standing in line to pay for the food when I got your text. This hospital complex is huge and a bit confusing to be honest. I'm not sure I took the shortest way on my way back. Healthy muffins, iced tea, and something for your sweet tooth," she says with a grin, holding the tray out to William. "What happened?"

"What happened? What do you think happened? The baby's here, of course, and mom wants to see us!"

Emily gives a girly shriek that hurts William's ears once again. "Yay! Great! You could've been a bit more specific in your text rather than simply summoning me back here. I thought you were just craving the food."

"Yeah, well, there was food right in front of our noses." William points to the vending machine, unable to keep his outstretched index finger steady. "But you had to go on a hunting trip for some salad leaves and made me stand around here alone wondering."

"Where are they?"

"In room 302. They are waiting for us. It's this way." William nods in the direction Mulder showed him.

"Okay, let's go then."

Side by side, Emily and William take long strides toward the room they were told. "Boy or girl?" Emily asks on the way.

"Girl."

"Yay again! Ah, that's wonderful. I have a little sister," she chants.

William isn't sharing an ounce of his sister's enthusiasm. If he had been given a choice, he would have passed on this experience as a whole, but now that they are standing in front of room 302, by opening that door what he has tried to deny will become real. If only his mom is alright, he will accept all that comes with it: sleepless nights because of the baby crying, smelly diapers, more Thai takeout, and an annoying younger sister on top of an annoying older one. If only his mom is alright. Emily knocks and he hears his mother's voice say "Come in!" It sounds weak, he thinks, and his heartbeat accelerates. When he follows his sister into the room, he braces himself for the worst.

#dana scully #fox mulder #emily scully #william scully #msr #xf fanfic #au fanfiction

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illneverrecover · 4 years

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going deeper (m) | myg

➛pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader ➛genre: demon!AU, devil!AU, smut. ➛word count: 2342 ➛rating: M because we goin FULL SMUT YALL. ➛warnings: I mean for smut it’s pretty soft, actually. fingering, vaginal intercourse (unprotected), heavy petting, biting, marking, slight mentions of a certain Jeon Jungkook, some possessiveness, mentions of wings used during sex (not the way you’re thinking, though). ➛summary: You always miss Yoongi when he’s gone, and he’s always gone too long, every time he goes away. ➛notes: This was my piece written for the @ksmutclub ‘s secret admirer project, in which I was given the lovely @sunkoos to seduce and serenade. That mostly meant I sent her vague asks on anon in attempts to flirt and get to know her a bit better while she kindly responded acting like I wasn’t an entire embarrassment. Bless her. I hope you had fun with me this past month or so, Nas, and I hope you enjoy this fic! I tried to make it soft & smutty, just what the doctor ordered. Happy Valentine’s Day, bb! ➛song: Black Swan - BTS (obviously, come on).

His touch is so soft you almost don’t feel it.

A ghost, a breath pressed against your pulse point, your jaw. Pillowy lips trailing an invisible path, tongue sweeping out to taste the subtle sweetness of your skin.

“Yoongi?”

Vibrations rumble against your throat as he hums his affirmation, focused on his task. He is feather light, a gentle breeze - and yet your skin heats rapidly, fire brimming just below the surface.

Dragging your hands from under the covers, you lace them around his neck, letting your fingers trace up and down his spine, opening your eyes to drink him in. It’s late, unfathomably dark, and yet there was just enough light to make out every sharp outline of his features. He’s shirtless, which was a welcome surprise, his exposed skin delicious under your touch.

“Did you miss me?” he murmurs, voice raspy as if he had been talking for hours.

Sighing, you let your hands smooth to his front, tracing at the waistband of his boxer briefs. “I guess…”

He nips at your collarbone in retaliation, your answering squeal the exact response he was looking for. Pulling away to peer down at you, you can’t help but reach out to touch his face, his lips.

“I always miss you. You’re always gone for so long.”

His stare is intense, impossibly deep, and for a moment the worry of saying too much crosses your mind. It was his job, you chastise yourself, searching his gaze. The job he loves.

Something flashes in those dark eyes, something you almost place - pain? - before it’s gone, a smirk pulling the sides of his mouth. “I know, love. But I’m here now.”

Nothing but a gasp has time to pass through your lips before he’s pressed against them, nipping and licking until he gains the entrance he seeks. He kisses you hard, deep, tongue swirling like it won’t be satisfied until it knows every inch of your mouth. Hips rolling, you reach to pull him down, closer, always closer - until he’s lain atop of you, knees wedged between your own.

Trailing from your pout, he sucks at your throat, biting the spot he knows makes you weak until it blooms in violet. “The kid still taking good care of you?” he rasps, lips forming the words against tender skin.

The kid. It takes your brain a moment to work through the thickened lust and comprehend the words, the puzzle piece finally clicking in place. Ah, he means his colleague, Jungkook. The one he assigned to watch over you in his absence, to guard and protect, to make sure you wanted for nothing.

You were fond of Jungkook, that was certain. His big brown eyes were wide and always dancing with mischief, and between that and his charming smile, he was hard to resist. Friendship occurred naturally, and you found yourself seeking him out more and more as time went on. Tasks you previously enjoyed alone, you now did with Jungkook at your side - his humor and wit the perfect addition to the metonity of the daily grind. The truth was that in Yoongi’s absence, Jungkook was a welcomed familiar face, and you felt yourself growing close to him in a way you hadn’t expected.

Smiling, your fingers find the soft dark strands at his nape. “Yes, he is still taking good care of me, just like you asked.”

“Good.”

“Sometimes I wish he’d take better care of me, if you know what I mean, but I guess it’ll do-”

A sharp sting at your neck had you yelping once more, a laugh already at the tip of your tongue. Instead of rage or jealousy, mirth glows in Yoongi’s lust blown gaze. “If that’s what you want, I’m sure it could be arranged. The kid certainly wouldn’t complain.”

Eyes widening, you glare at the man above you, mouth agape. You’re stuttering through a response when he interrupts, pulling away from your throat to peer down at you. “But we both know that’s not what you really want, is it?”

The smile on his face is maddening, wide and genuine, all gums and hidden secrets. Fire lights low in your belly, and you have the sudden urge to prove yourself to the powerful man above you.

It only takes a well placed leg around his hips and a strong tug of your wrist to change your positions, legs now straddling his lap as you earn the higher ground. A small voice in the back of your mind reminds you that you have only achieved this because he allowed you to, but you shove it away.

“Oh yeah? And what is it that I really want?”

A warm palm slides up your legs to the back of your thighs, toying dangerously at the apex, just under the hem of your large sleep shirt. Breath catching, you close your eyes to the touch, drunk on lithe fingers and a tell tale hardness pressed to the inside of your thigh.

He watches you then; the way you slow blink until your eyes roll back, the purse of your pout as you sigh out a whisper of his name, brow creasing slightly when he raises his hips to press against your tender heat. Every single inch of you was art, beautiful poetry, and it was easy for Yoongi to get lost in his thoughts as he let you settle over him like a new skin.

It’s as he ghosts one long digit over the wetness clinging to your core that he speaks again. “You want me to touch you, right here,” his thumb swipes against your clit, punctuating his words as you mewl. “You want me to touch you here with my hands and my mouth until you come, until you’re ready to take my cock.”

Whining, you drop your head to his shoulder, allowing your focus to fall to the smooth glide of your pelvis against his own. You’re too worked up to answer, instead dragging your lips in a mirror image of the bruises he had left on your throat, hoping he would heal slow enough to let the love bites take root.

“Hmm, is that what you want, love? Want me to ruin you, fuck you so good you can’t even think about another man, can’t imagine them touching you?”

It was with his final word that he spun you again, moving so quickly you barely had time to register the switch until you were pressed faced down in the mattress, hips pulled to rest with your ass in the air.

He leans over you, the hardness pressed against your ass now free of any fabric - when did he take those off? - naked and warm and demanding attention. His body covers yours, lips ghosting at the shell of your ear. “I’ll give you what you want. I’ll make sure everyone knows who you belong to, who you will rule beside.”

Biting your lip to suppress your moan, you rock back against him, seeking the friction your body so desperately required, fully intoxicated on your want, your need for him. It was like you had been made perfectly for him, a simple word or hint of a gesture enough to have you dripping and ready for more.

Always so perfect for him.

Ripping away your panties, his fingers glide over your silk core, dipping in just enough to hear you gasp. You didn’t want to play games, didn’t want to drag this out - just wanted him, all of him inside of you.

“Yoongi, please, I’m ready-” a swipe against your engorged bundle of nerves causes you to keen, head lolling forward. “I need you inside me, please, please-”

With a groan, he pulls his hips back, sliding inside of you with the ease of being welcomed home. His fingers remained at your apex, swirling and pinching in time with his slow thrusts, the suddenness of being so full causing your knees to shake.

His remaining free hand travels up and down your spine, pausing for brief moments to hold you in place for his assault against your body, before returning up to your throat to wrap around with a gentle squeeze. He was everywhere, lips and teeth and hands, surrounding and suffocating you with the sweetest poison, the greatest addiction. You couldn’t get enough, being filled with him and yet wanting more, always wanting more.

Yoongi’s moans were softer, lower, but the sound still caused goosebumps to raise on your arms, his pleasured grunts and praise enough to send you over the edge without a single touch from him. Part of you wonders if that’s just some of his appeal, a piece of his power over you, but you know regardless of his status, you would have fallen for Yoongi long ago.

Picking up the pace, he slams his pelvis into you repeatedly, furiously pistoning in and out of you while never losing rhythm. A skilled and attentive lover, always making sure you were a breath away from crumbling for him, curses and his name always ready on the tip of your tongue.

“Tell me, love. What are you thinking about, hmm?”

His voice is black velvet, and you clench at the words, turning your head so you could pant out a response. He never slows, fingers still rubbing mewls out of you, cock lodged deep within your aching cunt.

“I’m thinking about you, Yoongi. How ah- amazing you are. How much I love you.”

As if that was the phrase he was waiting to hear, he hisses, a mumble of your name echoing in the room. Through closed eyes, you feel the room darkening, a sudden shadow casting over your form, and a grin pulls at your lips.

His wings.

You always loved when he showed them, let them unfurl and expand until there was no mistaking what he was, who he was. They were bigger than you had expected, feathers a deep inky black that reflected blue and purple in the right light, like a beautiful oil spill. He tended to keep them hidden, his power abundant enough that it could be done without more than a mere thought, but when he let them show, when he let down the invisible wall - it meant he was comfortable. He was at ease. He felt he could be himself, with you.

The thought made your heart swell.

Craning your neck, he was a vision behind you - chest naked and glistening, twilight strands of his hair in disarray and matted against his forehead, lips kiss bitten and swollen. His eyes however weren’t closed, instead sharp gaze was focused on your face, your body, as his wings open and expand to their full glory. He was every embodiment of otherworldly, truly an angel, your angel, your fallen prince.

His hips falter when his eyes land on yours, when he sees how intently you stare at him. Adoration floods his veins, his desire to give you the world to rule as you see fit only second to the overwhelming need to protect you, love you.

“I love you too, baby.” he husks, tongue darting out to lick his lips. His fingers that had been pressed to your fevered heat seemed to double in speed, your eyes snapping closed against the pleasure. “Come for me, love. I need you to come for me.”

You were so close, the precipice within your reach, his utterances only hurtling you towards the end. It was when he leaned over your body once more, lips suckling at the soft space where your neck and shoulder met, his wings cocooning your tangled forms that you finally felt the band in your belly snap, orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. You could feel how hard you were clenching him, the way your thighs began to shake under his punishing movement, and you let out a final cry of his name.

“Yoongi-!”

The high pitched hum had him spilling inside of you, slowing to pump you full of him with staccato thrusts and groans of his own. When he was sure you were entrenched in nothing but him and his scent, he collapsed, sticky body laying on top of your own, his wings slowly moving to wrap you fully.

Moments like this were some of your favorites, silence with the exception of tandem pants and gasps for air, hearts thrumming fiercely in your chests as they struggle to return to normal. Yoongi was always tender, almost delicate in how he handled you, but in the minutes after showing you his love with his body he became exceptionally so. Cooing, he dotes over you, pressing soft open mouthed kisses on every available inch of skin as you catch your breath.

“I’m sorry, you know.” His voice is a whisper, but his eyes are sharp, watching. “For always being gone, for leaving you here alone. I know Jungkook helps some, but it’s not the same as me just being here, and I wish-”

Leaning forward, you shush him with your lips against his. “It’s okay, Yoongi. I understand why you’re busy, why you’re gone. You’re the King of Hell. Your people, your fellow Fallen - they need you.”

Raising a hand, you trace the delicate lines of his jaw, his lips. “I need you too, of course. But I can always wait until you're done,” He turns his face into your touch until you’re cupping his cheek, thumb smoothing his temple. “I’ll always wait for you.”

Yoongi smiles then, one of his face changing, soul warming smiles, his wings raising to slowly fold against his back. He wants to tell you that he’d give it all up if you asked, walk away from any responsibility, any promise of power, if only you required him to never leave your bed. He wants to weep at your feet, tell you all the ways you changed his blackened heart, his damned soul.

Instead, he rests his forehead against yours, a final promise spoken in the air between you.

“And I’ll always come home to you.”

1K notes · View notes

writingmyanxietyaway · 4 years

Text

Doctor Love | Berlin

Requested by anon: So okay okay, I had this idea a few days ago, and since your requests are open I'm gonna slide in real quick :)is it okay if I request a little scenario where like, u know when Berlino does that dumb thing of self sacrificing becuz he's gonna die anyway? What if his girlfriend/reader has been searching for a cure for his illness and before he can get himself killed she goes in the bank and tells him and somehow they manage to escape from the bank? No pressure if the idea doesn't appeal u! Ily!!

Word count: 2.4k

Warning: spoilers of season 2! maybe swearing, mentions of violence, guns, the whole shabang

Note: not my gif! Okay, so I’m in love with this request!! It took me a little longer to write, because I wanted to get it perfect. Let me just say I’m not a doctor, so I have no idea if there is a cure for the illness he has, but Imma try! Hope you like it darling! Thanks for the request and love you too! xx

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‘I’m sick. I have an illness called Helmer’s myopathy. It’s a muscle degenerative disease, which means that my muscles get weaker and weaker until my heart muscles can’t keep up anymore. If I’m lucky I have four months left,’ he told you like it was nothing; like it was answer to a question on a pubquiz. He held your hands in his, knowing it would break your heart and dreams of a future with him.

‘Andrés..’ you whispered, ‘why didn’t you tell me sooner?’ He sighed and gently shook his head.

‘It’s uncurable, princess. I have medicine that I have to take every few hours that make it somewhat acceptable, but I wanted you to know.’

You visibly broke down. Even though you were always someone who never wanted to show any emotion besides happiness and anger, but this was different shit. Your hands were shaking, body trembing as you tried to understand that everything you had imagined yourself doing with Andrés would be nothing more than a dream. It simply didn’t make sence. Being together with Andrés for more than six months, you’d hoped he would be more open towards you and share what was going on with him. You felt your throat closing up, eyes filling with tears.

This illness was just the cherry on top for him. The man had done terrible things in his life and could mark off just about any sin in the Bible. Stealing, robbing, charming women. Karma was getting her way back to him and all he could do was accept his fate. It came across as cold to you. All this time you planned this whole life for you two together, but he knew that would never come true.

‘No! This is cruel! You let me believe we would be together for the rest of our lives, hell, you told me you wanted to marry me when you got out! You knew even if you made it out alive, you wouldn’t live longer than summer. You’ve done some terrible things in your life Andrés, but this..’ you exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air. ‘This is just rude.’

The sadness you felt quickly turned into anger as you kept yelling at him, hitting him in the chest. He knew better than to interrupt you and tell you that everything would be okay, because he just now realized it wouldn’t be okay. He would die and leave you behind. Period.

‘I knew you were a self-centred bastard! You always play these mind games and somehow make everyone get on their knees for you! Is that all I am to you, huh?! Some game to find how far you can go? Because let me tell you Andrés, this game is finished. Game. Over,’ you hissed. You threw your hands up in the air and stormed out.

That was more than four weeks ago. In the meantime you had spoken again and this time the anger had disappeared and just cried. That was all you could do. You had accepted that you would most likely be a widdow before summer and that broke your heart, but you also wanted to fight. Andrés told you there was no cure to his illness, but there was hope burning inside you and you did everything in your power to still find that cure. Whether it meant getting no sleep for the next few weeks or not.

Andrés would soon be leaving for the big robbery and you had spent every second of the day being with him and holding him close. The times where you would have rough sex the entire day were over; it was now making love. He was gentle to you, making you breakfast in bed even though he could easily ask one of the maids to do it and even buying you nice dresses in colours that matched your eyes.

Without him knowing, you contacted one of your best friends who worked at the lab of a university and asked him if he could do more research on medicine for muscle-related illnesses. He said he had some information that he wanted to share with you, but that meant you had to visit him.

‘Babe, I’m gonna have to run to Macy really quickly. Think you’ll be okay?’ you asked. Macy was your sister and seven months pregnant, so it often happened that you visited her to help her with something. That way he wouldn’t suspect a thing. You had no idea how he did it, but he always seemed to know what you were up to.

‘Of course, princess. Give her a kiss for me, okay?’ he winked, giving you a kiss on the lips. You lightly slapped his chest.

‘Be back for dinner,’ you told him. Out of the blue, he grabbed you by your waist and pulled you against him. He leaned down and you could feel his breath on your neck. Shivers send down your spine.

‘Your ass looks great in those jeans,’ he whispered, placing a light kiss on your neck and slapping you on the bottom. You giggled and pushed yourself away from him.

‘Bye!’ you called, waving him goodbye and walking out the door. You soon arrived at the university and was met by your friend who was waiting for you outside. You greeted each other with a hug and quickly got to work. He told you about the compositions of the different medications and what effect they had on what part of the muscle.

‘Isn’t there any way we could find a way to make this medicine last longer? This is the medication he uses now to keep it under control for a few hours,’ you gave him a syringe filled with the medicine and he studied it. He took the bottle from you and studied it contents.

‘There are some elements of this medicine that also appear in this,’ he pointed to a beaker filled with a milky white liquid. ‘I should be able to find a connection that makes this last longer.’

‘Is there anything I can do? I feel so hopeless not being able to do anything,’ you mumbled.

‘You did a great job already by giving me this. Is it okay if I keep the syringe? I need something that we know works, even if it isn’t permanent,’ he said. You nodded and waved your hand.

‘Of course. Anything to help find a cure. Thank you for doing this. I can’t even explain how much this means to me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I hadn’t at least tried,’ you told him. He turned to look at you and gave you a hug.

‘That’s what I’m here for. If I find anything, I’ll let you know, okay?’

It was the fifth day of the heist. Andrés had been gone for almost three weeks now, being busy with training and all. He obviously knew about the plan already, but being the passionate man he is, wanted to go over every single detail again. He couldn’t afford making any mistakes. The goodbye was hard. You cried loudly as he held you close, whispering little reasuring words in your ear. You were thankful for Sergio. He kept you updated on everything that was going on, but didn’t tell you any details or steps of the plan. You didn’t want to either; it was scary enough without knowing how everything went down in there.

It was now wednesday and you were sitting on the couch. You hadn’t heard from Sergio in two days and it started to worry you. The news wasn’t exactly uplifting too. Andrés’ face was displayed all over every tv channel, name heard on every radio station and seen on every wall in Spain. Your heart fell even lower when the news announced he was sick. The smug inspector worked on you nerves as she spoke about him like he was an animal. Sure, the man had done things that broke the law, but he never killed anyone nor hurt any woman.

‘Fuck,’ you cursed under your breath. Suddenly your phone rang and the called ID showed Alex, your friend at the lab. Your heartbeat increased and you were anxious about what he was about to say. You picked up the phone and heard his loud voice. A tearful smile made it’s way on your face as you heard him say those three words you so desperately longed to hear.

‘I have it! I have the cure!’ he yelled. You jumped up and raced towards the university where he was already waiting on you. The hug you shared was one filled with hapiness.

‘Okay, he needs to inject this like he did with the other medicine. This is enough to last until november. I have some of it still in the lab so I produce more and work more on the duration of it. I can’t promise it will work for the rest of his life, but for now it’ll do,’ he spoke. You said goodbye and rushed to Sergio’s hide-out. The medicine you held in your hands would give him at least eight more months and until then Alex had a better cure. You burst through the doors and Sergio jumped up. You could see the whole that had been dug in the floor. You turned to Sergio and burst into tears of joy.

‘He’s not leaving us, Sergio. He’s staying. With you, with me. He’s staying,’ you rushed. Your heart was beating loudly in your ears and the rush of adrenaline was so high, you thought you’d pass out. Your words seemed to land as he slowly moved towards you. His gaze fell on the little box you were holding and his eyes flickered from the black object to the hole in the floor and tears welled in his eyes.

‘I have to get it to him, Sergio. He needs to know there is something out here for him. You and I both you the man is up to something. Let me go in there, please!’ you pleaded. He quickly snapped out his trance and gave you a red suit and black boots to finish the look.

‘When you get to the indside, wait inside the vault. No one knows you’re getting in and that way you won’t get attacked. Take this with you,’ he pushed a fake gun in your hands and you placed it in the holster on your thigh. ‘Goodluck.’

When you were about to enter, you heard a lot of noise coming from the computer. The police had broken in. He nodded to you and you ran as quickly as you could through the tunnel. When you entered the vault, you were met by two people. A young man with dark hair and a woman with blonde curls. They looked suprised to see you and the man pointed a gun at you.

‘Serg- El Professor send me. I’m Berlin’s girl,’ you quickly said, stumbling over your words. Sure, you were carrying a gun with you, but it was a fake. Having a real gun pointed at you made you nearly shit your pants. When the girl pointed out I was carrying a gun and came through the only way out, he lowered the gun and craweled through the tunnel. It wasn’t hard to find Berlin as he came running in the direction of where you were coming from. You caught the stares of the other people who nodded at you and went on with their duties.

‘Berlin, babe!’ you called, making him freeze.

‘What are you doing here, princess? It’s not safe for you. They’ll come running through those halls any minute now,’ he sternly said, turning around and grabbing you firmly by the arm. ‘Leave, now!’

‘No, I’m not leaving. I came here to tell you I found a cure,’ you breathed and everyone around you froze. ‘You didn’t know, but I’ve been doing research for a medicine and I’ve found it. The first dose should work ‘till November. After that I’ll have a much stronger and longer working dose.’

‘Princess, I told you to leave,’ he said more firmly this time. You didn’t move.

‘Like I said, I’m not leaving. Not without you anyway. You promised me a life that I could only dream of and now we can have it. I love you with all my heart. I can’t loose you. Not now, not ever.’ Tears cascaded down your cheeks as you begged the man you loved so much to trust you and come with you.

‘Leave, now. Helsinki, take her with you,’ he ordered the bulky man behind you, but he didn’t move.

‘Love is a passionate thing, Berlin. I don’t know this woman, but she found a cure for your uncurable disease. That’s literally doing the impossible. You have five seconds to decide to leave with this woman or I’ll take you with me. Don’t look away when you have everything in front of you,’ he spoke. He turned his attention to you and you gave him a grateful smile. He smiled back and nodded.

‘Will you please come with me? If you don’t come with me, I’ll stay with you. I either die with you or leave with you, you decide,’ you stated. He looked at the box you held in your hand and realized how much he loved you. Moving towards you, he passionately smashed his lips to yours. The kiss wasn’t filled with lust, but relief and gratefulness.

‘As soon as we walk out those doors, I’m marrying you. No exceptions,’ he mumbled against your lips. You nodded and held him closer.

‘That was the plan.’

You heard the policemen run behind you and Helsinki was quick to throw a grenade. Berlin pushed you all inside and bowed your head in his chest. Once the grenade had exploded, you all rushed back and blew up the tunnel. You joined Sergio and Helsinki in the back of the truck, leaning against Andrés.

‘There are no words to explain how much I love you, princess. No words.’

The two of you left to Cuba, where you got married soon after you arrived. The wedding was on the beach, your white dress flowing around you while you stared at the man you could finally call your husband. Only a month after the wedding you surprised Andrés by telling you were pregnant.

‘You are my heart, my soul and my everything. Thank you for being my wife and everything I’ve ever wished for.’

.. .. .. .. ..

Berlin Taglist

@nkjktk - @michaellangdonenthusiast - @hamiltonsofcrap

#la casa de papel #lcdp imagine #berlin x reader #berlin imagine #pedro alonso #lcdp x reader #lcdp

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imagine-loki · 4 years

Text

Blushing in His Colours, Chapter 4

TITLE: Blushing in His Colours CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 4 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki being a Daddy Dom, his adores and loves his little, worships the ground she walks on. She has vaginismus, but he couldn’t be more supportive with her. RATING: M

It had been a few days since Loki’s discovery.

And he had a plan.

He’d tried a few different tactics over the last few days. The one that got him best results was when he asked Mia to hand him something in the lab, she did it instantly without question. He then let Good girl slip instead of a thank you. It had the desired effect, he thought her entire face was going to go up in flames. She was very giddy and flustered.

So she definitely has a praise kink. That he was certain of. She was a pleaser.

But his plan, he was putting into motion tonight. He’d asked her to another date night, but to wear her comfiest pyjamas. She was highly confused, but was pretty excited none the less.

He went to her room and knocked, smiling when he heard her rushing over to the door.

When she opened it, Loki was pleased to see she was in pyjamas already. They were Minnie Mouse pyjamas. She sheepishly looked down at herself. ‘Sorry… I don’t really have, uhm, sexy kind of Pyjamas.’

Loki smiled and picked up her hand, bringing it up to his lips he kissed the back of it. ‘You look beautiful, darling. Never apologise for wearing whatever you want to.’

There was that delightful blush that graced her cheeks, that he loved so much on her.

‘Are you ready?’ He asked with a grin.

She nodded. ‘I’m really intrigued to see what you’ve got planned.’

Loki was wearing comfortable clothing too. Leather trousers with a green Asgardian tunic type of top. But Mia always thought he looked amazing, he could probably wear a bin bag and still look handsome.

First stop was the kitchen, Loki had a mini buffet type of set up going on. But it was bowls of popcorn, nachos and chocolate. He grabbed a tray and put it all on, then motioned for Mia to follow him as he headed to the lifts.

Mia raised an eyebrow as she followed him. ‘Where are we going?’ She asked, getting into the lift with him.

He didn’t say anything, just grinned. They stopped a few floors down, Loki then led the way to the library. It all made sense when they entered.

Loki had borrowed Tony’s projector and had set up a film to play on the empty wall near the back of the library. He’d also taken lots of cushions and blankets for them to sit or lie down on and keep cosy. Some candles were lit, giving the room a lovely calming and romantic vibe.

‘Oh wow. Loki, this is amazing.’ Mia said excitedly.

‘I’m glad you think so. It took a lot of persuading to make sure the others would stay out of the way for the night.’ Loki said with a frown.

‘What kind of persuading?’ Mia asked, curious.

‘I had to say please to Stark.’ Loki cringed, making Mia burst out laughing.

‘Well, it certainly seems worth it.’ Mia grinned.

Loki and Mia got comfortable on the cushions, Loki used his Seidr to make them all into a bed type of shape with a bit at the back for them to lean against comfortably. He pulled a big blanket over the both them, he was absolutely delighted when she snuggled right in against his side.

‘What film are we watching?’ She asked when Loki used his Seidr to have the tray of food hover just on front of them, but not blocking the view, to save having to get a table over.

Loki didn’t reply, just grinned as he grabbed the remote and started the movie up. Mia was shocked when Frozen Two started.

‘Really? I didn’t think you would be a Disney fan? We can watch something you like.’ Mia suggested as she turned to face him more.

‘Not at all. I remember over hearing you speaking to Wanda about wanting to see it when it’s out.’ Loki smiled.

Mia then frowned. ‘It’s not even out in cinemas here yet. How did you… Wait, did you get Bruce to get it for you?’ She asked knowingly.

Loki’s grin grew even larger and he wiggled his eyebrows. ‘Perhaps… I have my ways. Now shhh, it’s starting.’ Loki put his arm around her and pulled her into him again.

She was secretly so delighted that he’d managed to get the film. She had been desperate to see it. And what could be better, snuggled up comfortably with Loki? Nothing could be better, that was for sure.

Mia was totally engrossed in the film, she almost missed her mouth a few times while eating. Eyes glued to the screen.

Loki couldn’t resist stroking her hair, letting his fingers slide through her locks. It was soothing for both of them. Perhaps too soothing for Mia, she could feel herself slipping into little space. Something she didn’t really want to do on front of Loki, not wanting to freak him out.

But it was difficult, he was pressing all the right buttons.

It became even worse for Mia when he ended up gently pulling her onto his lap. She blushed hard, but kept her eyes on the movie, leaning back against him as she curled up comfortably.

Loki slid his hand under her pyjama top and started stroking her back softly, she squirmed and giggled when he went too far round to her sides, making him smirk. ‘Ticklish?’ He grinned, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

She didn’t reply, just whined a little and shuffled slightly on his lap.

His touch against her back felt so heavenly, she was slipping hard. Loki noticed her take the tips of a bit of her hair into her mouth and he smiled. He hadn’t seen her do that before, but he had a feeling it was something she did in little space…

Once the film was finished, Loki didn’t let go of her. He never wanted to let go of her, actually. He kept stroking her back and nuzzling into her hair.

But Mia suddenly snapped out of it, realising how she was acting. She struggled to get off his lap, Loki reluctantly let her go.

‘I’m sorry… I…’

‘Whatever for?’ Loki frowned as she moved away from him and sat up on her knees, looking scared.

But she didn’t answer, just looked really scared still. So Loki decided to take a chance.

‘You’re a little, aren’t you?’

Her eyes widened at that, but he noticed her shoulders relax a tiny bit. ‘You… what? How did you…’

‘I will be completely honest here… I came across a Daddy Dom and little relationship online, after having… suspicions. And I felt that you just seemed to fit being a little. So I may have been trying to coax it out of you.’ He said a little sheepishly.

‘Wha… What? Why though? I mean… Are you…’

‘A Daddy?’ Loki finished for her.

She nodded, still keeping a little distance.

Loki smiled. ‘I had never thought about it before, but when I read up on it, I found myself really wanting to be your Daddy.’ He admitted. ‘I seem to fit some of the personality traits and it was very appealing, I must say. Even though I had never thought about it before.’

Mia put her face into her hands and rubbed her face a few times before looking at him again.

‘Are you serious? I mean… I didn’t expect… This.’

Loki reached out and took hold of her hands, so she couldn’t hide her face again.

‘All I am asking, is that you think about it. You are safe with me, Mia. If you want to go into little space with me, you can. And I would love to be able to look after and spoil you.’ He smiled and rubbed the back of her hands.

He was slightly confused as to why she still looked so worried.

‘Have I got this all wrong?’ He asked, frowning. It was his turn to be looking genuinely worried.

‘No… not at all… I… I want this more than anything. From the moment I met you I found you to be… Daddy material.’ She said quietly.

Loki let go of her hands and stroked her cheek gently.

‘So what’s got you so scared, pet?’ He asked quietly.

She looked down and started fiddling with the bottom of her pyjama top. ‘I uhm… There’s something else you should know before you decide if you do want to… Be with me. It wouldn’t be fair not telling you…’

‘What is it?’ He asked, tipping her chin up.

She took a deep breath before answering. ‘I’ve got vaginismus.’

Mia felt like time was stood still as she waited for Loki’s reaction. Expecting him to get up and walk out.

But to her surprise, there was no change in his facial expressions.

‘Why would that make me not want to be with you?’ Loki asked, confused as he took her hands again.

Now it was Mia’s turn to look confused. ‘Do… Do you know what it is?’

‘I do.’ Loki nodded. ‘It doesn’t change who you are, darling.’

Mia couldn’t help but let out a small sob, surprising Loki. ‘Hey, shhh. It’s ok, come here.’ He pulled her back onto his lap, so she was straddling him with her legs at either side of his thighs, into his embrace. He rocked her back and fore as she buried her face into his neck.

‘I’m sorry… I just… The last guy I dated couldn’t get away fast enough, thinking it was some kind of disease he could catch. And the guy before him who I had been seeing for a while, got fed up that he couldn’t… penetrate me. No matter how much we tried, it was like there was a literal road block down there.’ She said openly, leaning back slightly as Loki cradled the back of her head.

‘Well in that case they don’t deserve you. There is so much more to relationships than penetrative sex. SO much more.’ He wiped her tears off her cheeks with his thumbs and then cupped her face as he leaned in to press his forehead against hers.

‘Not that we would be jumping into anything sexually so soon, but if I may ask, have you been to the doctors about it?’

‘Yeah. It seems to be more psychological than anything else we’ve decided… I uhm, can get one finger in but it took a long time… and I have a small dildo that I try with but it takes a long time to use and I’ve only ever managed twice, often by the time I get to the stage where I might be able to take it, I’m too tired and just give up. It’s like I just can’t relax down there enough, even though I know it doesn’t hurt as such if I am properly ready. But I think I freaked myself out a bit last time I got it in, when I started moving it, it was a little sore and uncomfortable then I struggled getting the damn thing out and really panicked.’ She was blushing hard while explaining to Loki, but she wanted him to know exactly what he was getting into. Or more… what he wouldn’t be getting into, so to say.

‘Well that’s good you’ve made progress yourself, though. You can do it, it can happen, it just takes time… Mia, even if we could never have penetrative sex, that doesn’t change the way I feel about you. I don’t know in this early stage if anything will blossom between us, although I certainly hope it does, but I really want to try, darling.’

Mia felt like crying again in utter relief and happiness. But Loki could tell there was still something niggling.

‘Speak to me, sweetling.’ He whispered, smoothing a hand through her hair.

‘I just… I’ve never had a Daddy before. I’ve always dreamed and fantasised of having one and having kinky fun with him. Being able to just be taken against a wall or bent over the sofa and taken that way. But that can’t happen for me, I don’t even know if normal sex will ever be able to happen for me!’

‘Shhh, calm down. It’s ok.’ Loki soothed. ‘Well, there are ways to help your body accustom to penetration. And even once that happens, while you may never be able to have sudden-little-warning-sex, not many can without some foreplay, there are still ways to make fantasies come true.’ He purred, winking at her.

‘Really?’

‘Of course there is. But you know, there are millions of ways to have kinky fun, for the both of us, without the normal cock into vagina scenario, you know.’ He smirked, making her giggle.

‘Just don’t over think it, don’t worry about something that doesn’t necessarily even need to happen.’

‘But I do want it to happen!’ Mia said quickly.

Loki smiled and trailed his fingers down the side of her face. ‘I know you do. But it will take time, trust and a lot of patience. It won’t be something that can just happen overnight. But if you want that to be your end goal, we can work towards it. Slowly. But just have some fun, is the main thing.’

‘I have done sexual stuff before. And I do enjoy it all, so it’s not like I just don’t want to do anything like that. Because I do. So much.’ She was blushing again.

Loki chuckled and kissed her forehead. ‘Just because you have vaginismus doesn’t mean you can’t love other things to do with sex. Stop worrying.’

She leaned into him again and hid her face against his neck. He slid his hand up and down her back soothingly. ‘I get the feeling rule number one will be not to overthink this.’ He rumbled.

Mia shot back a bit, looking at him with wide eyes. ‘Rules?’ She squeaked.

‘Of course. Why, you didn’t think just because I am new to this you would get out of not having rules, did you?’ He smirked.

Mia’s mouth parted but nothing came out, making Loki chuckle.

‘You did!’ He smirked, sliding his hands under her top and tickling over her back.

She squealed and tried to move away from the tickling but that just made her move closer into Loki’s body, thus trapping her as his fingers tickled down her sides, making her laugh as she squirmed to try and get away.

He stopped and just held her against him, his chin on top of her head. ‘There will be consequences if you break a rule, sweetheart. But we can go over rules another day, once you’ve had time to think it all through.’ He kissed the top of her head as he felt her relaxing into him completely.

Loki had a feeling she wasn’t going to need time to think anything through.

Or he certainly hoped not anyway.

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #submission #blushing in his colours #chapter 4 #fanfichiddles

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shining-m00nlight · 3 years

Text

First Love (2)

This is a second part of “First Love” my modern Au young Nedlyn story and it’s for @leialannister because she asked for it twice and I finally found the time to write more in this universe. I hope you like it.

"Are you ready?", he asked in his deep northern voice.

"Mmh", Cat nodded.

"One, two, three", Ned counted and then she was lifted up from their bed into her husband's strong arms. Immediately she placed her head on his shoulder. Even holding her own head up right was an exhausting activity nowadays.

Ned walked through the door into the adjoining bathroom. It was hot and steamy inside and Cat could smell the sweet flowery scent coming from the water. Ned knelt down, which wasn't an easy task with her in his arms, so she was able to reach the water with her hand. It had the perfect temperature. Ned would call it boiling hot but she called it the minimum temperature a bath should have.

"Does it feel right?" her darling asked in a soft voice.

"Everything is great, my love. Just help me get into the tub."

So she was lifted up again and over the edge of the tub into the warmth. Ned grabbed her under the arms so he could hold her upright as he climbed into the tub himself to sit behind her. He pulled her close and she sank against him.

She finally relaxed knowing that she was safe in his arms. She sometimes couldn't believe that she was actually here with Ned sitting naked behind her in her childhood home at the age of 20.

Their own apartment was empty while they lived in Riverrun waiting for her death. If she died here and Ned could move back into their apartment without being burdened by the memory of her lifeless body everywhere. Then he could also finally concentrate on his studies properly. He had stopped going to college last year. Ned had told her he wanted to take a break but Cat knew it was a lie and he actually did it because of her and her illness. She felt terrible thinking about it.

She had known that she was being selfish when she asked Ned to marry her but the last year made her feel like she robbed Ned of a good life. The first year of their marriage had been a bliss. Ned had started studying law and she had done a lot of community service. Continuing to study just didn't make any sense for her and keeping a job with her being so sick was just impossible.

But then her situation changedI for the worse. Instead of her regular hospital visits for her treatment she had collapsed in the middle of a restaurant and was hospitalized. She had stayed in the hospital for 8 months with Ned almost constantly by her side never wanting her to feel alone.

She had numerous operations and experimental procedures done, it was the doctors and her family's desperate attempt to keep her living longer than it was intended for her. After all of these things failed, she was sent home to die. That's when Ned and she moved into her old childhood home.

She first didn't like this idea at all. But she realised that her father desperately tried to have some time with her before she would leave this world behind, that this way Ned did not have to carry the burden of caring for her all by himself and he would not be alone when she died.

Of course her family wouldn't be the biggest comfort to him but she couldn't shake the image of Ned standing in their apartment alone next to her body and this way there was at least somebody there with him. She had her uncle Brynden promise her that he would call Ned's father as soon as she died, as Ned would not do so himself.

She wasn't quite sure how Ned felt about living with her father, uncle, brother and sister. He had told her he thought it was a good thing that she would be close to her family and he would happily do what would bring her the most joy but she wished they could do what would bring them both the most joy.

Luckily their living space was separated enough from the rest of her family that they had their privacy.

She opened her eyes again as Ned began to wash her body. Like almost everything now she loved and hated it at the same time. She loved the feeling of the warm water of laying skin to skin with Ned and of Ned's hand caressing her naked body carefully. But it also reminded her of how little she could do now, how weak she felt, how she needed help to even do everyday activities like taking a bath and how her husband had to fill the role of a nurse rather than a husband. Ned never complained about anything though, not about living with her family, not about having his studies interrupted, not about taking care of her and not even about the lack of sex their marriage was having.

It has been over a year since the last time they made love and it sucked. Obviously they couldn't have done it in the hospital especially with her constantly having to heal from one or another operation. When she was released they had tried but she was just sore all the time and a touch that was anything but light as feathers hurt her skin. What used to be a comforting weight on top of her now felt like she was being crushed under it and she was too exhausted to do any of the work.

After a few truly horrendous tries Ned had refused to try again. This had hurt her more than she was willing to admit. Logically she knew it was because he didn't wanna hurt her but she couldn't ban the thought that he just wasn't attracted to her anymore. She had lost her true beauty a long time ago when she started to get sick but the last year gave her even more surgical scars, she got thinner to a point that could just be described as sickly and even her skin looked wrong and old. Ned still told her she was beautiful but one look in the mirror revealed the truth to her.

Another thing that made her feel guilty for having asked Ned to marry her was that this was not a life a twenty year old young man should have.

"What deep thoughts are plaguing you my love?", he asked her.

"Oh nothing", she tried to dismiss his question.

"I can see that something is troubling you. Please tell me. I would like to help if I could."

Cat moved her arms through the water, making little splashes to listen to the sound of the water.

"Do you regret marrying me?", she asked in a very small voice.

Like on instinct Ned pulled her closer: "Not for one second. Why would you ever believe such a thing?"

"Because this is not a life you should have my love. You're twenty years old, you should be out partying with Robert, living on crappy food, flirting with beautiful women and worrying about passing exams and not having to take care of a sick wife, you should not be responsible to feed, wash and comfort me"

"As appealing as eating crappy food and making sure Robert doesn't throw up sounds. I'm pretty sure it was in my marriage vows that I should do these things. Something about in sickness and in health. I'm not sure if you remember that part."

"But maybe those vows should have never have happened", she whispered.

"Cat?", his voice was now filled with insecurity: "Do…, do you wish that you had never married me?"

She tried to turn around as best as she could and took his face into her hands. It was an awkward angel and it kind of hurt but she needed to look him in the eyes to make sure he understood what she had to say next.

"No, no, not for a moment have or will I ever wish that I was not married to you! I just want you to be happy and I'm afraid that my being sick is taking that from you!"

"It will" Cat could have sworn she could see his heart break through his eyes.

"You being sick will take you from me. And when you leave so will my happiness. But not having this time with you now would just rip my heart in two pieces sooner and the thought of not using every moment the Gods granted us is unbearable. You are my love and my happiness."

"You are mine too but Ned please try to find happiness when I'm gone even if it seems hard…" she took a moment.

"I wish we could have had a lifetime together. Just imagine us in our own house with our beautiful children. But you're right we should concentrate on what we have and the moments we have left."

Cat now turned back around, her position had made her feel tired and weak to the bones. She leaned back into his arms again so she could feel his heart beating against his ribcage. It comforted her and made her feel calm.

As she closed her eyes once more she said: "Ned? Thank you for loving me so I have had enough love for a lifetime"

She never opened her eyes again.

#nedlyn #ned x catelyn #ned x cat #ned stark #catelyn stark #catelyn tully #game of thrones #ao3 fanfic

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tiger-tally · 3 years

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My conflicted feelings on Jimo Shenming de Xinyuan Shouji (寂寞神明的心愿手记/”The Lonely Divinity’s Journal of Wishes“)

I’ve played to the end of one route now and decided I’d rather just spoil myself instead of playing the rest. A TL;DR of my feelings:

Is it worth the asking price? Yes.

Is it enjoyable? Uhhhhh

The long version, with spoilers:

The Good

The CGs are consistently beautiful and they are many. Most of them would make perfectly good desktop wallpapers.

The game is surprisingly sexy. There’s suggestive CGs for everybody and plenty of taking advantage of stereo sound for “moaning/kissing next to your ear” effects. There’s definitely sexual harass-y bits and love interests being possessive, but the one sex scene I got to was actually good about consent--”I’ll stop if you tell me to, but until then >:]“

The heroine is quite good. Unfortunately she still has the common heroine traits of absurd levels of self-sacrifice and blushing a lot at sexually harassing dudes, but she’s capable, emotionally mature, and at least gets to snark back now and then. By the standard of otome games I’ve played, she’s definitely up there.

On a high level the story of the game is pretty interesting. I liked how there aren’t good/bad endings, but sun/moon endings that more represent whether the heroine is willful or passive. From what I’ve been spoiled on regarding the endings, this seems to map to endings that are harder but honest and...honorable, and endings that are more romantic, yet with the underlying uneasiness of some level of self-surrender.

The Mixed

The voice acting is extremely uneven. A bunch of the LIs’ VAs try way too hard to do this seductive louche mumbly drawl and it makes them sound ridiculous, though they actually sounded much better in the serious dramatic scenes where they weren’t desperate to sound sexy. Out of the five LIs, I’d say that two are consistently good, one sounds decent normally but lowkey unhinged when he’s trying to be emotional, and two sounded awful when they were trying to be sexy but honestly were pretty good when they weren’t.

You absolutely get your money’s worth in terms of playtime. This is mixed because...

The Bad

The best way I can describe it is...this game is just consistently less than the sum of its parts.

The individual art assets are beautiful. But in the game itself, you have these really stylized Chinese-influenced backgrounds next to realistic-side-of-anime character sprites next to cartoony animals/spirits, and some of the CGs are clearly drawn by different artists, who are consistently skilled, but aren’t always consistent with the finer points of the character designs.

The love interests feel like five sexy character traits stapled together. This dude is a doctor and a master chef and an imperial uncle and a rake and a sword! And so on. That’s not to say they can’t be charming at times, and it gets a bit better later in the game (hours and hours and hours later in the game) with more time spent on developing the character, but there’s no dude I’d say I particularly liked. (Well, there was the evil sexy mentor, who’s appealing maybe precisely because he doesn’t overstay his welcome, but he’s not an LI.) I ended up picking a LI to do the route of solely because he looked like decent replacement meal for my beloved Wu Zixu (it didn’t really work.)

The game tries to use a whole bunch of mobile gacha game elements in a standalone game and it just doesn’t work. You have all these chapters that are more like case-of-the-week episodes with their own self-contained subplots, and you win resources for doing well at the investigation in the episodes, and you spend those resources on this gacha system for gifts to give to raise relationship values with a particular dude. But that means you spend like half the game stuck with 1-2 out of the 5 LIs while focusing on side characters that range from boring to obnoxious to wtf, and even though the game tries to give you moments of fluffy interaction with your dude of choice starting from the second chapter, it’s structurally more limited in its ability to do so than a mobile game, and those moments aren’t that satisfying either.

The script is so long that all the actually kind of interesting stuff is buried after hours and hours of boredom. That exciting ending system? Is designed so that you have to replay the game from basically the opening chapters to get both a character’s endings. The route split was more than a dozen hours in for me, btw. And the process is filled with mechanics like timed choices and the aforementioned gacha rolls that drag out the replay even with a skip option. And I don’t think it’s possible, or at least it’s very difficult, to fill out more than two LIs’ relationship bars in a single run (which is necessary to have them as an option at the route split), so you can’t even be more efficient with your ending-getting. The ending I got to was actually conceptually interesting...and I’m curious about the endings I’ve been spoiled on...but the thought of going through that entire common route 3-4 more times to see all ten endings kills my brain cells.

The above issues would largely be forgivable if the actual scene-level writing were good, but it’s not. I guessed a whole bunch of character reveals ages before the game actually revealed them. The case-of-the-week sideplots that were supposed to be touching made me cringe. The route I picked’s idea of romance is the dude throwing jewelry and dresses and limited edition shaomai at me. I did not enjoy sitting through the vast majority of this game.

I got spoiled that the entire game is all secretly just a dream world created by two of the characters, which was maybe fresh the first time the twist was done...but here I’m so unimpressed that it’s just like “yeah, this entire route plays like fictional bullshit, sounds about right.” I don’t care about how epic the truth might be when it requires me to sit through 20 hours of boredom and then basically invalidates those 20 hours of boredom. Also the true true endings aren’t actually in the game--they’re in a free DLC that hasn’t been released yet.

So, like...I can acknowledge this game is ambitious. It’s certainly very pretty. I get why someone might consider this a good or even great game. As for me, I can’t say I regret buying it, but it did not remotely bring me enjoyment proportional to the amount of time I spent on it, and I don’t think any amount of ultimate payoff is going to make it worth sitting through more of this. I’ll watch the endings on bilibili and call it a day.

#otome games #jimo shenming de xinyuan shouji

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conradscrime · 3 years

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The Infamous 10 Rillington Place: Serial Killer John Christie

May 17, 2021

John Reginald Halliday Christie, known as Reg Christie to friends and family was born on April 8, 1899 in Northowram near Halifax in the West Riding of Yorkshire. John was the 6th child born to a family of 7 and had a very troubled relationship with his father, Ernest John Christie, a carpet designer who showed little emotion towards his children and often punished them for even minor things. It was also said that John Christie was often bullied by his mother and older sisters growing up.

John was often described by his peers as a weird boy who often kept to himself. On March 24, 1911 John’s grandfather died in the house after suffering a long illness. John described seeing his grandfather’s dead body laid out at the age of almost 12, and said of this that he felt powerful looking at his grandfather who he once feared, now being just a corpse.

John Christie was very intelligent and at the age of 11 he won a scholarship to Halifax Secondary School, particularly loving the subject of math and algebra. It found that John had an IQ of 128. He was also very active in Boy Scouts and sang in his church choir.

John left school on April 22, 1913 and was an employed as an assistant projectionist.

Throughout adolescence John was bullied, particularly about sex. Apparently his first attempts at having sex were failures and he was often called “Reggie No Dick” and “Can’t Do It Christie.” John experienced sex difficulties for his entire life, most often only being said to perform with sex workers.

In September 1916, John enlisted in the British Army and he was called on April 12, 1917 to join the 52nd Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire Regiment to serve as an infantryman. In April 1918, John was despatched to France and the following June he was injured in a mustard gas attack and had to spend a month in a military hospital in Calais. John claims this attack left him unable to speak out loud, he could barley talk louder than a whisper for the rest of his life and left him blind and mute for 3 and a half years. However, there has been no evidence of John being blind and has been noted if he was mute he would of never been allowed to continue serving in the army.

Many believe this stemmed from an underlying personality disorder and that John Christie would exaggerate or make up illnesses to get attention from others.

In October 1919 John was demobilized from the army. He joined the Royal Air Force in December 1923 but was discharged less than a year later on August 15, 1924.

John married a woman named Ethel Simpson on May 10, 1920. During this time he was still having sex with sex workers. Ethel suffered a miscarriage early on in their marriage and they separated in 1924. John was convicted of several criminal offences, including stealing postal orders while working as a postman, obtaining money on false pretences and violent conduct. He committed larceny in 1924 and on May 13 1929 he was convicted of assaulting a woman named Maud Cole whom he was living with at the time. He had hit Maud over the head with a cricket bat and received a sentence of 6 months of hard labour. John was convicted of stealing a car and served 3 months on November 1, 1933.

Ethel moved to Sheffield in 1928 with her siblings and John moved to London in 1923, spending the next decade in and out of prison. John was released from prison in January 1934 and reunited with Ethel. It was in 1937 that the couple moved to the infamous 10 Rillington Place in Notting Hill which was located in a pretty run down area.

At the beginning of World War II John applied to join the War Reserve Police and got accepted because they had failed to do a criminal record check on him. During this time he met a woman named Gladys Jones and began an affair with her. This relationship lasted until mid 1943 when Gladys’ husband returned from the war. The husband found out about the affair and assaulted John Christie.

All of John Christie’s murders were committed over a 10 year period between 1943 and 1953. His first murder was a woman named Ruth Fuerst, who was 21 at the time. Ruth would occasionally engage in being a sex worker and this is where John met her according to him. John claimed that on August 24, 1943 he invited Ruth to his home to have sex and after they were done he strangled her on his bed with some rope. He originally put Ruth’s body beneath the floorboards of his living room, but then ended up burying her in the back garden the next night. Ethel was out visiting relatives at the time of the murder.

On October 7, 1944 John invited Muriel Amelia Eady to his home, telling her that he had a special cure for her bronchitis. This special cure was actually domestic gas and when Muriel began inhaling it she soon became unconscious. John hid the smell of gas with Friar’s Balsam. Domestic gas in the 1940′s was coal gas, which had 15% carbon monoxide in it. John then raped and strangled Muriel and buried her beside Ruth.

During Easter 1948, a man named Timothy Evans and his wife Beryl moved into the top flat at Rillington Place. In October 1948 Beryl gave birth to a daughter, who was named Geraldine. In late 1949 Timothy told police that his wife was dead but then failed to find her body when they searched the flat. The police soon discovered the bodies of not only Beryl, but also Geraldine and a 16 week old male fetus in an outdoor wash house.

The autopsy revealed that Beryl and Geraldine had been strangled to death and Beryl had been physically assaulted as there were bruises on her face. Timothy Evans claimed that John Christie had killed his wife while performing a botched abortion, however Timothy eventually confessed to killing his life, though many believe this confession was fabricated by police. When Timothy was charged he took back his confession, claiming that John Christie had murdered both his wife and daughter, Geraldine.

On January 11, 1950 Timothy was put on trial for the murder of his daughter, but the prosecution decided not to charge him for his wife. John Christie was actually a witness for the Crown saying that Timothy and his wife often fought. Timothy was found guilty and was sentenced to be hanged on January 31, but this was appealed.

However, an appeal made on February 20th had failed and Timothy Evans was hanged at the HM Prison Pentonville on March 9, 1950. John Christie then began working at the Post Office Savings Bank on May 21, 1946 but was fired on April 4, 1950 when his past criminal record came to light.

The police did a pretty poor job with their investigations, they even searched the garden where John was disposing his victims bodies but they never excavated it. John even admitted later that his dog had found Muriel’s skull in the garden after the police had searched and John threw her skull into an abandoned bombed out house nearby.

It was obvious that Timothy’s confession was fake, he was clearly unaware of the resting place of his wife’s body or even how she had been killed. Timothy claimed that his wife was either in a manhole or a drain at the front of the house. Timothy wasn’t even aware that his daughter had also been murdered during his first interview.

On December 14, 1952 John Christie murdered his wife Ethel by strangling her in bed. John came up with multiple excuses as to why no one had heard or seen Ethel in a couple of days, telling people she had rheumatism or that she was visiting relatives in Sheffield. At this time John was unemployed so to make money he sold Ethel’s wedding ring on December 17th.

On January 26, 1953 John emptied Ethel’s bank account, and was selling furniture and her clothing and living off of unemployment checks.

Between January 19 and March 6, 1953 John Christie murdered three more women, Kathleen Maloney, Rita Nelson and Hectorina MacLennan. Kathleen was a sex worker who was 6 months pregnant at the time she met John and was murdered. Hectorina was living with her boyfriend in London and her, her boyfriend and John would meet up multiple times, with John even letting both of them stay at 10 Rillington Place at one point. Once he had murdered Hectorina John would keep in contact with her boyfriend, pretending that he had no idea what had happened to her.

For John’s last three victims he had made them inhale carbon monoxide until they passed out, where he would then strangle them with a rope just like he did with Muriel. John raped these victims as they were unconscious and continued to rape them as he was murdering them. He placed their bodies in a clove behind his kitchen wall.

John Christie moved out of 10 Rillington Place on March 20, 1953 after subletting the flat to a couple. When the landlord discovered the couple was living there instead of John they were kicked out. The landlord told one of the other flat tenants they could use John’s kitchen (not sure the reasoning behind this.)

This tenant, named Beresford Brown discovered the kitchen aclove on March 24, finding the bodies of Kathleen, Rita and Hectorina. The police were called and they were looking for none other than John Christie.

John was arrested on March 31 when his identity was questioned by a police officer. In his possession was his marriage certificate and an old newspaper clipping about the remand of Timothy Evans. John confessed to all the murders eventually and on April 27, confessed to killing Beryl Evans but mostly denied killing her daughter, Geraldine. It is believed John was hesitant to admit to the killing of Geraldine because she was a child and he may have been afraid of his fate in prison. Convicts who have abused children are often beaten and raped by other inmates.

Despite confessing to all these murders John was only tried for the murder of his wife, Ethel. His trial began on June 22, 1953 and he pleaded insanity. John also said he had a poor memory of the events. A doctor assessed John and said he was not insane, though he did have a hysterical personality. The jury found John Christie guilty after deliberating for 85 minutes. He was sentenced to death.

On July 15, 1953 at 9am John Christie was hanged by Albert Pierrepoint, the same executioner who had hung Timothy Evans. Upon being executed John complained that his nose was itchy to which Albert responded, “It won’t bother you for long.”

There has been a lot of controversy over the hanging of Timothy Evans and if an innocent man was hanged for murders he did not commit. A first inquiry was held and concluded that Timothy was responsible. Many believe that Timothy actually was guilty and did murder his wife and daughter and that John Christie only admitted to it to further portray himself as insane. However, a lot of other people believe that John had to have been responsible because what would the chances be that there was two men strangling women both living in the same building?

A second inquiry was looked into the evidence and it was concluded that Timothy murdered his wife but had not murdered his daughter, John was concluded to be responsible for Geraldine’s death. These led to Timothy receiving a posthumous pardon, because he had been tried and executed for the murder of his daughter. Because of this, Timothy was pardoned on October 18, 1966, 16 years after his hanging. This pardon allowed Timothy’s remains to be sent back to his family.

Because of Timothy’s hanging and other cases that were controversial revolving the death penalty, there was a suspension and subsequent abolition of capital punishment in the UK for murder in 1965.

In January 2003, the Home Office awarded Timothy’s half sister and his sister payments as compensation for the miscarriage of justice in his trial. The independent assessor for the Home Office, Lord Brennan QC accepted that “the conviction and execution of Timothy Evans for the murder of his child was wrongful and a miscarriage of justice” and that “there is no evidence to implicate Timothy Evans in the murder of his wife. She was most probably murdered by Christie.”

#solved #true crime #crime #murder #serial killer #johnchristie

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neeterloveschenford · 4 years

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I was thinking today about how easy it would have been to make things a little bit clearer in season 2. A scene here or there, a comment or a look and so many things would have had context. I think the thing that irritates me the most is that we have to fill in so many of the blanks in the narrative. And then certain people get upset if we get things wrong. If you want a specific narrative, then you need to tell that narrative instead of letting your audience figure things out. Everyone has different experiences, so everyone interprets certain situations differently. (ie the scene that shall not be named) So I wanted to make a list of things that I think should have had a little more context. Some people may not agree with my moments, I may not agree with someone else’s moments. But these are things that I lay awake wondering about. How different would this season play out if just a few things were different.

1. One thing that really stuck in my craw was from “that” scene. If M!luca was only supposed to be a one season arc and Malex was still you’re endgame plan, then why did Michael say I almost lost you to Maria first and Alex second? Alex was stabbed. Michael was tending to his wound. If he had said that to Alex first, Maria second, it wouldn’t have lost any of the emotional punch. He was legit worried about both of them. But it would have still supported the narrative that Alex was the love of his life. It also would have planted that seed in Maria that she could never measure up to Alex. It would have made her insecurity the morning after more believable.

2. When Isobel was trying to tell Max about her experience with Blair, he came off as dismissive. How hard would it have been to say he was so proud of her for living her best life, but please don’t give any details. I know that it was supposed to come off as yuck, I don’t want to hear about this, you’re my sister. Which is totally understandable. (I don’t know of a single man who wants to hear about their sister’s sex life.) But there wasn’t any kind of encouragement to continue discovering herself either.

3.Speaking of Blair, if you needed to check a threesome off your aren’t I progressive check list, why not have a threesome between Isobel, Kyle and Blair? It probably would’ve had the desired effect instead of causing so much discourse in the fandom.

4. Why was there only one 20 second scene between Liz, Maria and Alex? If you want to honor the OG series why would you not play up their friendship? If it was because Alex didn’t want to be reminded of M!luca so he stayed away, then why not have him and Liz discuss that? It would make more sense to have Alex isolated like he was most of the season. And if Liz is all in her head and not seeing things like she was in season 1, how nice would it have been to have someone point out she was being a crap friend again?

5. As for Alex and Maria, they REALLY needed to have their episode 5 conversation much sooner. Like really.

6. I love snarky banter. But I feel like they completely missed the mark this season with both Steph and Maria. Steph came off as a jerk. Kyle had no reason to find her at all appealing. She was rude, dismissive and hateful. Kyle is a sweet, compassionate and extremely hot doctor. There is no way he would put up with that just to get a date. I thoroughly enjoyed the banter between Michael and Maria in season 1, but if they are in a relationship, there has to be the combination of snarky moments and sweet moments. The sweet moments were few and far between. She rarely had a nice thing to say about him and when he tried to be sweet she usually tried to joke it off. It just didn’t work for me.

7. Alex not wanting to kiss Forrest in the middle of the pony or at the paintball place wasn’t the thing they should have used to help Alex feel more comfortable in his own skin. I am a straight female and I wouldn’t feel comfortable kissing someone that I barely knew at a public place. They could have dug a little deeper into his internalized homophobia and made it more believable.

8. Charlie said that the toxin was designed to drop into a city and kill someone and all of their descendants. So how far away was Alex being held? I can’t see Michael letting Jesse set off that bomb without Alex being five states away. Gregory either for that matter. And as much as he hated Jesse, I don’t think Michael would have let him kill himself because Alex still loved his father. If Alex wanted Jesse dead, he would have grabbed Greg and ran. But no, he tried to get him to give up the bomb. If Michael actually wanted to kill Jesse he would have done it in the previous episode when he hit him over the head and gave that incredibly romantic monologue about loving Alex. So none of that whole let’s ride carnival rides, puke and watch a bad man die scene made sense to me. Michael going to the carnival to try to stop Jesse would have.

9. Did anyone at the hospital figure out what made Maria bleed internally? Couldn’t someone question it and Kyle had to come up with a plausible answer? Is that making too much sense? That’s how it always worked on ER and Grey’s Anatomy. If someone started spontaneously bleeding internally, usually Meredith or George Clooney would want to know why.

10. Lastly, I know I’m in the minority, but I really wanted to see jealous Michael. It would have given a lot more context to the bunker fight in 2x10 and Michael’s reaction to Forrest watching Alex sing in the finale. And Michael always feels like he’s not enough. It would make sense for him to have a knee jerk reaction to seeing Alex flirting with someone else.

So those are things I think would have been so easy to fix but was left up to us to read between the lines. That is fine if it’s one or two things. But things like this happened every episode. It really is the responsibility of the writers and showrunners to flesh out the characters and the story. It’s shouldn’t be left up to us the audience. Hopefully with the restrictions in production they will run into next season they will focus more on character interactions and not have three seasons worth of plot in 13 episodes. We can only dream,

#roswell new mexico #anti carina #anti miluca #anti forlex #kinda but not really #this show needs to make more sense #flesh out your characters #write plausible storylines #work with me people

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munsonsduchess · 3 years

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So, I re-watched The Old Guard, again. Just like my Mag 7 re-watch I made some notes, six pages of them to be exact which is why I’m gonna drop them under the cut so I don’t clutter up anyone’s dash with my mildest of observations and all my feelings for a sad alcoholic Frenchman.

I love how we’re introduced to everyone, Andy walking alone through Marrakesh and Booker speeding through the narrow streets on his bike. Are we supposed to think they’re strangers or do they know each other

Bookers little smile when he catches up to Andy like he’s so happy to see her again and Andy’s face lighting up to see him again too

Andy spent a fortune on a book because she knew Booker would like it. “First edition Don Quixote, that wouldn’t come cheap” “it didn’t”

“What brings you to Marrakech?” // “Family'' leave me alone I’m already sobbing

Andy honey they’ll still be able to see that picture in deleted photos but you tried and that’s what matters

Nicky and Joe!

Nicky is so happy to see Andy. That little smile. It’s adorable

“You look good” “you look ok” gentle family teasing is the best ok

“Boss”

It’s been a year since they saw one and other and they just love each other so much. No one touch me.

Nicky and Booker betting on the baklava and Joe just sitting there like “let him lose his money it’s fine, he won’t learn and it’s funny”

Everyone teasing Nicky for loosing and he’s just stood there like “no it’s fine ”

These are the best people for the job and Copley knows it and doesn’t care how much it will cost him. He has faith

Copley knowing Nicky is there and the little wave

Andy taking her axe with her. I love that axe

Just a group of immortals walking through the desert with swords and guns nothing to see here

“Peace be with you” those catholic teachings never quite leave

“It’s a trap!”

That has got to hurt. Those guys emptied full clips into them. Like I get the need to do a job and do it well but come on guys that’s overkill

This is what women want. Andy and her axe

Nicky still having faith there are girls

The picture on Copley’s desk. Like if you knew why did you have to go through this bullshit?

Andy has lived too long and seen too much

Like I know now that Booker knew what was happening or maybe he didn’t know the extent of it but him saying sorry did feel genuine

Andy is just all kinds of done. She didn’t want to do the job in the first place

Nile proving that yes you can be in a strange place and you can serve your country but you don’t have to be a dick about it

“Keep it respectful”

She made an effort to learn the language and learn the customs which goes a long way to establish trust

How traumatic must this have been for Nile? She always knew there was a possibility of being injured in combat or worse never coming home but to be injured so fatally and have your friend hold your life in their hands only to come back and be rejected because you’re an anomaly. A freak

Goes a long way to explain Booker’s feelings too

Nicky and Joe sleeping in the train car is something that is obviously so normal for couples and goes such a long way to show people how ‘normal’ queer people are

“What did you see?” “Part of a name tag” thanks Booker that’s helpful

“I felt her die”

“Everything happens for a reason boss”

Booker didn’t want to go after Nile. He didn’t want her involved

Nicky pushing for them to go after Nile. The emotional centre of the group, appealing to their own experiences and feelings from their first times

Andy is not happy and I can understand how she feels. Given their current situation bringing an unknown element into the mix is only going to complicate everything

“I know I saw her die”

No scarring. Nothing to suggest that anything happened to Nile

The seeds of doubt already growing amongst Nike’s friends and allies

Merrick looks like he should have been a doctor who villain who got his shit kicked in by Donna

Copley you asshole what did you think was gonna happen? They were just gonna get clips emptied into their bodies and let the mercs walk away? Use your big boy brain

Nile trying to come to terms with what happened to her. Everyone around her looking at her with suspicion. Even her Sargent who’s sending her away from more tests

The hostility in the barracks. The fact that her things are already packed.

Everyone knows what happened. Nile has never been more alone just like Nicky said

Trying to drown out the noise of the world and decompress and understand what happened“

But you can call me Andy”

Just casually steals a military transport. Nbd

MA’AM PLEASE I AM ALREADY GAY. Riding around in a tank top and shades like that is not helping

“These damn kids”

Zero hesitation in shooting Nile. This is a woman who has run out of every kind of fuck

“Why does it always have to be so goddamn slow the first couple of times?”

“You shot me” “yes honey now back in the car

”Andy might think she’s cold and heartless and only here to do a job but you can see how much she already cares about what happens to Nile

Soldiers. Fighters. Family

You know what I’m really glad they didn’t make Andy’s tank top skin tight or moulded to show off her body. That isn’t how she rolls

Andy is so proud that Nile stabbed her. Look at that smile

!Nile already having the makings of a plan within minutes of stepping onto the plane

Andy just like “god isn’t real, I’m real though and people thought I was god”

I wonder how many nights the group sat up until the wee hours discussing things like theology. Andy who was worshiped as a god. Nicky and Joe who fought in a holy war for their beliefs and Booker who probably had his own feelings on the subject

Andy being so chill about the crash. The best poker face

It was a good try Nile and look Andy is proud of you!

The smile on Andy’s face when she’s fighting with Nile gives me so much serotonin

Soft Andy. Who had to be tough to teach a lesson

Poor Nile. Coming to terms with what she is and the fact that she might never see her family again

Family dinner time!

Awkward family dinner time

Nicky and Joe staring at each each other with their puppy dog eyes “we’re meant to find each other”

Then Booker and Andy like “misery loves company”

Everyone’s just like “awh Nicky and Joe are so cute”

Andy reliving the people she’s fought with and lost

Booker knows just how much ‘help’ talking to ones family about the situation is

Booker do not put your finger on the trigger of your gun when it’s still in your trousers! You might be immortal but that’s gonna hurt a lot more

Oh no. Quynh.

Andy’s face. I can’t

Joe in tears telling the story“

Before me and Nicky it was just the two of them”

Booker knowing exactly how it feels to hang there for hours and not die or dying and coming back time and time again. Knowing how Quynh and Andy must have felt

I cannot imagine what it must have been like for Andy. To be with someone for so long. The only other person who understands you. To be ripped apart like that

“Why do you blame yourself” that’s not a nice question to ask people

The big emotional talk with Andy and Nile in the churchyard being interrupted by the gunfire

Andy being so afraid Booker wouldn’t come back and delegating to Nile who just accepts her orders

“Welcome back asshole” / “it feels like someone was dancing on my chest”

The banter

Nicky being banished to the table in the corner after 2006 is my favourite headcanon

“Wait for my signal” Andy is more pissed than ever at the people coming after her family

“Big wounds take longer to heal” Nile as a millennial presses x to doubt

The sheer emotion in Andy’s eyes as she fights. The tears. She’s doing this for her family.

Will I ever stop harping on about found family in this show? No I will not“

How can you even tell what the signal is?” One explosion later “oh wait nvm”

The wound on Andy’s shoulder probably doesn’t even feel like anything with the amount of adrenaline

The van. These two“

What is he your boyfriend?” Stanzas of Arabic poetry later, “he’s not my boyfriend he’s all and he’s more”

Nicky and Joe Horny on Main all day every day

These cocky little shits “can you remove the chains? no? ok”“

There’s a TV Joe!” “Champagne?” it’s not a field trip boys

“I used to keep my stuff here” in an abandoned mine she found in the 1150s or that’s when she thinks she found it

Nile being amazed by Andy’s ‘stuff’

Booker meanwhile makes a joke at the expense of his sister

Merrick really should have been a doctor who villain honestly. The grand gesturing the weird mood swings. He could have been great in a two part episode and then had to reckon with Donna

Donna Noble is my favourite companion don’t @ me

Copley beginning to have second thoughts on everything

Andy realising only now that she hasn’t healed from the fight in the church“

Just because we keep living doesn’t mean we stop hurting” I have a lot of Booker feelings ok“

I thought you were the brains of this outfit” oh honey no

Bookers family. Oh no.

No but really how hard must it have been for Booker. To know that his son, his baby was suffering from cancer such an awful disease all the whole cursing his father for being selfish, uncaring, cursing Booker and Booker can’t do anything about it. He’s immortal, he heals, disease will never ravage his body, but he can’t share it with his son. He can only sit and watch as death claims everyone he’s ever loved. Living with the fact that his family despised him at the end of their lives because they didn’t understand that his immortality is a curse.

I have a lot of Booker feels don’t @ me

The pharmacy girl though. Helping just because she could

Reaffirming the reason why Andy started to help people in the first place

A selfless act. A purely good deed. Nothing expected in return. An unselfish act

Andy’s wound and Lykon’s death causing Andy to come to terms with her own mortality

Merrick “prosperity data” and Copley “I’m sorry those are people not objects”

Nicky is not here for your bullshit

Malta Sex Vacation ™

HORNY JAIL

Family bonding time with Nile and Andy

Andy “whatever it takes” and Nile “not on my watch”

So what I want to know is obviously Booker was in on it from the beginning but did actively derail Andy looking into Copley after Joe and Nicky were taken or was he just genuinely having a hard time

Nile prioritising her flesh and blood family and Andy totally understanding because she’s doing this for family too“

You and me Book. Now and always” my heart can’t cope

Nile finding the empty clip. Realising what’s about to happen and going back for her new family because as much as she loves her flesh and blood family this one matters to her as well

Meanwhile Copley I guess got a tip off from Booker (?) and knew this was all going down

The conspiracy wall

Booker you bastard why did you shoot her in the back?

I love this man but god damn

Booker wanting to be ‘normal’ because the memory of being rejected is still so raw

Suicidal tendencies in a 200 year old man

They’re both so upset by the whole thing. The betrayal

Book loves this woman with all his heart and soul. This is the woman who saved him and now she isn’t healing. She’s dying

Booker putting up so much of a fight so they wouldn’t take Andy

“I’m sorry Andy I’m sorry”

You might disagree with me but in my mind Booker never meant to hurt anyone. He didn’t want to be a lab rat. Didn’t want anyone else to be a lab rat. He just wanted to be ‘normal’“

All things die”

“Your time is coming” // “As is yours” Nicky is gonna fuck someone up

“I’m new” says Nile after shooting herself in the foot to make a point

Copley’s conspiracy wall or his fanboy wall for all the good Andy, Booker, Joe and Nicky have done

Copley’s grief at losing his wife being the driving factor for handing the group over to Merrick is tragic and heart breaking and just goes to show how much of a human story this really is

Nile said no guns Copley

Nile is here to save her family

“Those three men in there and I we’ll keep you safe” // Nile coming in guns blazing for them instead

Joe is going to kill Booker himself

“You and Nicky always had each other. All we had was our grief”

Everyone being so surprised to see Nile like “what the fuck?”“

Just leave me here” // “No man left behind”

Meanwhile Joe is fine with just leaving Booker right there to be the last lab rat

The groups concern for Andy who’s always been so strong

The concern. The subtle little head nods Andy does to let them know she’s ok

Andy spies an axe

Joe being so concerned for Nicky and making sure he comes back ok

Nicky immediately scrambling to his feet to go and help Andy

“What happened in 1934?” // “1834”

“Wait for the signal” “like the last one?” “Go big or go home!”

Arguing over who goes first and Andy just “if it doesn’t work our next time you can go first”

And there’s your signal

“You shot Nicky” Joe is not messing around when it comes to his other half“

You ok?” // “Everything hurts”

Andy has been immortal for so long she’s lost all sense of feeling human. Then Nile shows up to do just that. Remind her

Merrick calling Nile selfish like I’m sorry you entitled little shit what did you say“

Do you think he speaks Russian?”

YEET!

That one must have hurt

Nicky and Joe just like “wow the new girl is hardcore”

“Faster than the elevator”

Gotta save Andy’s axe

Nicky sits in the middle which is the actual worst place to sit in a car

Do you think they al rocked up to a hotel covered in blood like “don’t ask just give us a room and a shower”

Joe still seething at Booker through the pub window

Nile having to live with the fact that her family will never know what really happened to her. That they’ll all think she was KIA and whatever body they send back won’t be hers

The 100 year naughty step

I love that Nile was gonna let Booker off with an apology like “he didn’t mean it he’s just a sad alcoholic”

Nobody look at me. Ok. Andy and Booker saying goodbye on the shore. I can’t. This is it. This is the scene that breaks me

“I won’t see you again” // “Have a little faith Book”

Joe really wants to hit Booker. Probably did in the interim

The big picture“

Maybe this is the why Andy”

Andy laying down the law and Joe in the background like “yeah this isn’t a request”

Meanwhile in Paris. Booker is tired and just wants a drink

I am a fan of the scruff though

If that’s water Quynh definitely brought it in herself for The Drama ™

QUYNH THOUGH

#the old guard #long post #disjoined thoughts #i have a lot of booker feelings #i am not apologising for what he did #i just have a lot of feelings about the why #in which my fave is the traitor of the group #why you ask? wish i knew mate #duchess.txt

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dopescotlandwarrior · 4 years

Text

The Dancer-Chapter One

Also on AO3 A special thanks to @ Statell for all your help

Chapter One

Claire spun on the balls of her bare feet, over and over, feeling the veils slide across her sweaty face. Breathing rhythmically to avoid panting so her stomach remained quiet and smooth. She powered through the remaining spins to the gasps of the students watching. Coming out of her spins her body slowed to a half-beat. Pulling the veil up to her face, she looked at the students with an invitation for sultry romance making every female uncomfortable. Claire’s hips twitched independently to the music as she entered the last part of the dance. Body undulating, chest pressing against the skimpy fabric covering her nipples. Ten spins with the veils trailing around her and she dropped to the ground and stopped.

The class of women cheered for her and Claire stood to bow. She ran to the backroom to wipe the stinging sweat out of her eyes before dropping eyewash in each. The instructor gave a hug from behind and congratulated her on her performance.

“That was absolutely wonderful Claire! It is so impressive what you have learned! I am very confident in recommending you to one of my clients if you are ready.”

Claire stared at the woman with wide eyes. This is unexpected, she thought, it must be too soon for an actual job belly dancing. She looked dubiously at the instructor.

“You are ready darling. Think about it and let me know. One of the clients has an opening three nights a week. It’s a good place to start if you want it.” She hugged Claire again and left her to dress.

Piling the veils and costume into her bag, Claire emerged from the studio with a clean washed face, beige pantsuit, and sensible shoes. She was late returning from lunch due to her final performance and her head was getting crowded with rival emotions. Exhilaration that she finally finished the last level offered by the studio and sadness she was leaving after six years.

Claire unlocked the door to her book store and ran inside. It was a character flaw to be late to work and she would chastise herself for the rest of the afternoon. She smiled at incoming customers taking a double-take at the man behind them.

He had been to the shop twice before. He was handsome and tall, hard not to notice. He had asked her for a novel, newly added to the New York Times bestseller list. She apologized and offered to order it for him. There just wasn’t room to stock every bestseller in her little shop and she wasn’t likely to displace her lovely antique collections for the latest steamy, here today, gone tomorrow, fiction. He approached the front register.

“I ordered a book last week,” he said smiling. Has it come in yet? My name is Jamie Fraser.”

She let her gaze fall on the most incredible blue eyes that held his smile with a tinge of mischief. His order was already there but Claire turned too quickly knocking over a display of cards next to the register. A very unladylike sound came out of her as she bent to pick them all up. Piling them on the counter she ran to the back for the man’s order.

Claire could feel her humiliation spread across her cheeks as she took a deep breath.

“Jesus H Roosevelt Christ,” was uttered under her breath. Why did she always lose it when a good-looking man talked to her. She felt hopelessly unnerved by him and tried to steady her mind.

“Sorry about the mess I just caused.”

The man had put the cards back into the display and smiled at his accomplishment. Claire felt the shaking that started in her calves, slowly work its way up and lunged for the register before she was quaking with anxiety. Handing the bag to the man she tried to smile and thanked him for the help. She turned and walked quickly to the back room before he could ask her for anything else.

Hearing the bell on the shop door, she exhaled a long-held breath and felt her tension ease immediately. Maybe her doctor was right about therapy. She hated the idea but life was getting intolerable for her, except when she danced. Claire checked the tiny mirror on the wall and went back to cleaning shelves.

The following week she met with the owner of a Greek restaurant who was looking for a belly dancer to entertain customers while they dined. He looked at her beige clothing and pinned up hair and she could see the doubt in his eyes.

“You come highly recommended by the studio and I don’t want to hurt feelings, but I can’t see a good fit here.”

Claire stood up straight and looked him in the eye before responding.

“I look different when I dance.”

She nervously pushed her hair behind her ears and tried to smile.

“Okay. Let’s give the pretty girl a chance,” he said. “You dance at noon tomorrow and I will watch. Then we talk some more, okay?”

Claire shook his hand gratefully and smiled her thanks before running out of the restaurant. She was thrilled to have the chance to dance in front of people and started thinking about which costume to wear as she reached for her phone.

“Geillis! I have an audition tomorrow at the new Greek restaurant, to dance!”

Geillis was her bestie and had Claire’s best interest at heart. She hadn’t seen her dance because the studio didn’t allow the public to watch the classes. She was doubtful her friend could muster the sex appeal to arouse anyone under eighty years old, but she pushed herself to be excited and encouraging.

“Well, look at you, a professional dancer now! Need any help getting ready? I can bring dinner in a bucket tonight.”

“Yes! Please do. I have a new costume I want to wear, and the skirt is too long. You can help me cut it. It won’t take any time at all. You are a lifesaver Geillis.”

In Geillis’s mind, she saw a floor-length prairie skirt the pilgrims sported and wondered if this was a good idea. She saw Claire’s belly dancing as a misguided attempt to break out of her frumpiness. An avenue to a more exciting life as seen in a movie perhaps. Geillis rolled her eyes at the doomed evening ahead.

Claire pushed away from the table. “Oh my God, I am probably too stuffed with chicken to fit into my costume Geillis, but it sure was tasty.” Claire stood to remove the paper plates and bucket.

“Get yer costume on and let’s get this over with, aye?”

Claire was too excited to catch the tone of her friend's sentence and ran to the bedroom pulling on a bright blue skirt and attached pantie with three layers of transparent silk. She pulled the hip scarf around her with three lines of metal charms making the most beautiful sound when bumping into each other. Next was the bra top that fit tightly, hugging her skin right below her breasts. It too was adorned with metal baubles. Claire held the skirt up as she walked into the living room and to her gaping friend.

“What’s wrong with you Geillis.”

Geillis stared at Claire’s stomach and the panties that were dangerously low and v-shaped showing her long torso, taught, sinewy, and devoid of fat. When she walked, her thighs would peek out from the veils in the skirt, muscular, thin, and shapely.

“Jesus Christ, Claire. I’m lookin at a different person right now. I canna get over ye look so different. It’s remarkable.”

Claire gave her a shimmy with her shoulders followed by hips twitching making the baubles bounce.

“I wear a wig and lots of makeup when I dance so I don’t look like this at all. When we finish the skirt, I have to practice and make sure the length is right. I’ll show you some moves if you like.”

The two women talked about the skirt length and Geillis pinned the front panel allowing Claire to take it off. Geillis was shocked at the change in her friend when she put on that costume. Like doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde she thought and giggled to herself. Geillis decided she would risk the wrath of her employer to see Claire dance tomorrow and had no idea what to expect.

When the two women first met, Claire was already a student of belly dancing and it was mentioned in passing on several occasions, like a hobby. Geillis was instantly taken with Claire, her nerdy personality was endearing, not to mention ego-boosting because Geillis had no social awkwardness. Taking Claire under her wing, they became best friends. No amount of encouragement and exposure to the Edinburgh social scene seemed to make any difference in Claire. Geillis was defeated at trying to change her friend and gave up, to just enjoy Claire as she was. Tonight showed Claire in stark contrast to the mousy bookseller.

“There, that’s the last panel. Go put in on, with… all the rest of the costume. I think ye promised me a sample dance.”

Claire dashed back to her bedroom. This time she wore the wig and her black curls tumbled to her waist. She called to Geillis to turn out all but one side table lamp and push play on her recorder.

Claire pressed her back into the door jam and raised her arms above her head crossing her wrists like she was tied up. Her fabulous abs undulated and she pushed away from the door twirling in circles with the layers of her skirt flying around her. She shimmied into body rolls followed by numerous spins, her hips bounced to the music and Geiliis was transfixed. Claire could move her body like she had never seen.

Later, Claire said goodbye to Geillis, who was clearly impressed and dropped into bed. It was ten-thirty, a half-hour past her bedtime, and she fell asleep totally pissed off with herself.

The next morning, she shoved her costume into a gym bag and turned the front door key of the bookshop at exactly eight o’clock sharp. The day was looking promising and Claire could not wait until noon when she would dance for her new job.

Across town, Jamie Fraser sat at the head of a long conference table where the board was meeting for a final review of their shared endeavor. Each person had a report in front of them and asked Jamie questions about the owner of the local bookstore.

“Dinna fash, she is mostly antique books and collections. Not likely to clash with our inventory. I have visited three times and she doesna even stock the best sellers. No threat to us gentlemen.

Claire entered the restaurant from a back door that led right into the dressing room. She hung her costume and started getting ready. The eyelashes were a challenge with her shaking hands, but they eventually found purchase just above her own lashes.

The doubtful owner knocked and entered, looking for her. He regretted offering this audition. His restaurant was too new to bear up to ridicule and he wanted to back out any way possible. When his eyes landed on Claire, he was relieved. Apparently, the studio sent another student for him, and this one definitely looked the part.

“Hello pretty lady, I am Omar, this is my restaurant.”

Claire looked at him thinking he must be daft since they met yesterday. She smiled and approached him.

“We met yesterday sir and you offered me a test dance, I think you called it.”

“We did? Oh! Is that you in there? Pardon me for being an old man with a terrible memory. You look very different.”

“Are we still on for a dance then?”

“Yes, yes. Are you ready my dear?”

The diners did not notice that a woman stood in the dark doorway of a room adjoining the dining room until a spotlight lit her up, bouncing off the metal charms at her breast and hips. The music started and Claire treated the diners to her amazing hips that bounced independently of each other and hard lifts that made the baubles dance. Her performance was ten minutes long and many forks were suspended in the air as the diners watched her, paralyzed.

As Claire twirled around the room, she caught sight of Geillis at a corner table. She danced to her and smiled as her veils floated behind her. Returning to the center of the room she popped her chest and twitched her hips until everyone was dizzy from watching. She dropped into a bow and ran to the dressing room hearing applause and whistles. Grabbing a towel out of her gym bag she sat down to breathe before she passed out.

The owner came bursting into the room with a happy smile. He could not stop singing her praise and offered her three nights a week, two dances thirty minutes apart for one hundred dollars a night. He stuck out his hand to shake on the deal and she took it.

“You are a chameleon, like, like, a phone booth to change your clothes and then you can fly!”

It took Claire a minute or two to understand the reference to superman and she laughed and shook her head. Once alone, Claire pulled the lashes off her eyelids and wiped off the red lipstick. She looked into the mirror and saw Geillis behind her.

“Well, what did you think?”

“Claire, you know I adore ye, but yer the luckiest little shit on the planet. Did ye see how many gorgeous men were watchin ye? Shakin yer moneymaker like that I can see ye married and livin in grand style before long.” She smiled at Claire like this was a good thing.

“I didn’t spend six years of my life learning to dance so I could find someone to marry. Get back to work before you get fired, and Geillis, thank you for coming.”

Claire was stacking orders under the front register and popped up when she heard the doorbell tinkling. The shaking started immediately as the handsome man approached her smiling. He stuck out his hand.

“It is time we met formally, my name is James Fraser.”

Claire mumbled her name as she shook his hand, wishing she could look into his eyes for the rest of the afternoon.

Jamie looked around the shop, “I have been here a few times. Not spying, just gathering information about our competition.” He was clearly nervous and licked his lips several times looking at the floor. “Listen, Miss Beauchamp, I have to tell ye I am opening a new concept bookstore right down the street. My hope is we will both prosper by referring customers to each other while holding the other in the highest regard.”

The blood drained from Claire’s face and she pulled her hand away abruptly. She watched Fraser look around like he expected the roof to cave in on him and felt her anger boil up inside her.

“What customers are you hoping I refer to your new store, mister Fraser?”

“Well, ye dinna stock the best sellers so ye can send those customers our way. Any interest in antique collections we will send to you,” he smiled like he saw the value in his statement.

“I don’t stock bestsellers because they are here today and gone tomorrow but the orders for those books are thirty-seven percent of my revenue. If they can walk down the street and buy the book from you how many orders do you think I will get?”

Claire was getting heated and tried to calm her heart rate. She wanted the decibels of her argument to pierce this wicked man so he would know he was her enemy.

“Edinburgh doesn’t need another bookstore mister Fraser and I cannot see this store surviving the competition you are suggesting.”

Fraser looked at her with compassion and then lowered his eyes. He hated this part of the business, delivering the news a death blow was coming. He had done this to countless mom and pop bookstores as his company ate up market share all over Scotland, Ireland, and England. It wasn’t pleasant, but he would emerge from this visit relieved this dreadful task was over while the shop owner was just coming to terms with the bomb he just dropped.

Jamie oversaw the opening of new stores, so he was accustomed to breaking hearts, both young and old. In the days leading up to this type of meeting he would lose his appetite, pace the floor at night trying to sleep and work up a head of anxiety that could choke out a horse. But he always did it, and when the shop door closed behind him, he was free of guilt and responsibility for ruining a business, breaking a heart, and stealing a livelihood. When that door closed behind him, most people were never thought of again.

Sometimes he would like the owner so much it was near impossible to deliver the news. Claire Beauchamp was such a person because she was young and pretty with a telling face. Although she didn’t mean to do it, she opened her soul to Jamie on the few occasions he visited her. The right person in your life will set you free, he thought, and you will replace that anxiety with happiness.

Jamie walked away from Claire’s shop feeling like the biggest asshole in the world and wondered why each step away from her wasn’t helping. C’mon Claire, he thought, dinna wallow in yer grief, get busy findin a new job, somethin that will make ye happy, please lass.

Claire stood rigid behind the register all afternoon. She made feeble attempts to clean shelves and re-arrange displays, only to return to this catatonic state of staring out the window. Her store was empty most of the time and today that was a blessing. She locked the front door at exactly six o’clock that evening and walked home wondering how long it would take to lose her shop.

Geillis came that evening with a bottle of whisky and tried to cheer up her friend. As the whisky worked its way through her bloodstream and brain, Mister James Fraser became public enemy number one. She cursed him over and over and prayed for the day she would hold his fate in her hands.

As the days became weeks, Claire wrote countless letters to Fraser, begging him to reconsider. They were all answered the same, a bouquet of flowers with a note that said: “I’m sorry.”

As Claire’s business plummeted, she found relief and escape in her dancing. She gave in to the joyful release and the patrons who watched her loved it. Omar was so thrilled with her performance he quickly moved her into the top spot, six to seven o’clock, the dinner rush, five nights per week. She was often called to do special performances during lunch and her growing bank account could not be overlooked.

Jamie kept an eye on Claire’s bookstore with growing concern. She should have started her going-out-of-business sale by now. He wondered where the money was coming from to keep the lights on. When her shop stayed open for the third month, Jamie took matters into his own hands and contacted her landlord. The man sang Claire’s praises and could not say enough about her dedication to the community through reading programs for kids and book clubs for the classics. Jamie felt like shit hearing this and cleared his throat to stop the extolment before it crippled him.

When the man learned he was speaking to the bastard that stole her business he slammed the phone down almost breaking Jamie’s eardrum. The landlord heard enough to know Claire was in financial trouble. She was using what money she had saved over the years to keep the shop open. It was a doomed cause and the landlord was heartsick for her. Being a compassionate man, he refused to renew Claire’s lease citing structural issues with the buildings that were forcing him to sell.

When the Store-Wide sale sign went up, Jamie Fraser exhaled in relief. Maybe now he could move on with his life and start feeling like a winner again. It was time to break the spell on the Edinburgh store and throw a party for the executives and top earners. If it were possible for a building to be depressed it would explain the overall lack of joy he felt every minute he was at work. It would explain their first-quarter earnings, it would explain the lack of motivation in his staff. Something better change and he felt like it started with him.

Claire was despondent when the store closed. She lingered inside the last night saying goodbye to the authors and classic collections she had cared for and sold for many years. Geillis pulled her home and helped her get ready for her show that night. They didn’t talk much, Claire didn’t have it in her.

“Are ye wearin the new black outfit with the silver veils tonight?”

“Yes, the restaurant is hosting a big party tonight. Tips should be pretty good from what I hear.”

She tried to smile and reassure Geillis she was fine, but her hollow eyes told a different story. Geillis remained upbeat and stayed to help her dress for the big performance.

“Jesus, Claire! You dinna have to move yer hips or anything else with that costume on. How do ye keep the panties on when they ride so low? Looks like they are gonna fall off any minute!”

“Glue and they are not called panties Geillis, they’re called pants. The bra top was adorned with crystals that reflected light when she moved and the silver adornments on her hip scarf bounced in a crazy way. Claire was warming up while two other dancers went before her. She peeked out to gauge the crowd and when she got to the end of a long table, she uttered a strangled sound and ran from the door.

“Holy shit, Geillis, I can’t go out there, I can’t!”

“Why not, ye look great?”

Claire was clearly in a panic, pacing the room and holding her head. What the hell was he doing here? How could she stay hidden from him?”

“Geillis! That asshole Jamie Fraser is out there, and I can’t let him see me. Run to my house and bring back the silver headpiece that wraps around my face. Go! Hurry and I owe you my life!”

Right on cue, Claire emerged from the dark dressing room door and joined the other dancers in a sultry threesome that ended with Claire alone in the middle of the room. She lifted her covered face and moved her arms like she was beckoning the guests at the table. she danced close to the diners stopping along the way to do mesmerizing hip lifts, drops, and shimmies. When she got to Jamie, she moved her sinewy body with undulations, rapid hip lifts and turns.

Jamie could not look away from the dancer in front of him, one foot in front of him. Her body movements stole his sanity as she dropped her upper body backward until her head was inches from his shoulder. She gave him the full measure of her talent, before popping up to complete her dance. When she stopped with the music, she took a bow and waited an agonizing thirty seconds of silence before the table erupted with applause and whistles. Several people were on their feet, including James Fraser. Some of the men begged to see her face as she ran to the darkness of the dressing room door.

Bursting through the door into the dressing room she grabbed a towel and covered her face with it. Geillis looked at her in horror wondering what she could say to help. Claire’s body convulsed into the towel held firm against her face. She sank to her knees and Geillis ran to help her up. Claire’s arms gently pushed her away and the towel was lowered as she continued to laugh, out of control, like a woman possessed, she laughed.

Claire could hardly breathe, and she clawed at the headdress that was blocking the quantities of air she needed. She finally ripped it, and the wig off throwing them on the couch while she wrapped her arms around her waist, trying to stem the laughing.

“Oh! Oh my God, Geillis. I’ve never had so much fun. That dizzy bastard had a log in his pants and didn’t breathe the whole time I was in front of him. Too bad he didn’t just die right then and there!”

Geillis was quite unsettled with Claire’s level of hatred toward this man and thought Claire needed a new perspective before she lost her mind.

“Claire, it’s not healthy to hate someone that much, ye will never be able to quench yer need for revenge. I think ye need some help with this, truly. C’mon, let’s get you ready for the next show, then home to bed.”

When the spotlight hit Claire for her next dance, she was in bright pink harem pants and a bra top that was covered in baubles. She lifted her arms above her head and spun in circles while she shimmied her hips. When she saw Jamie Fraser sitting at a corner table she moved her arms, pulling him to her, enticing him to take her, as her athletic body promised a once in a lifetime experience of pleasure and carnal love. He watched every move, he heard what the dance promised him. He thought she was beautiful, exotic, and embodied the sexual experience. Claire wore the headdress again that wrapped around her face showing only her eyes. She used them against Jamie like weapons. When the music stopped, she turned her back on him and bowed to the other patrons, shunning him like he wasn’t there.

Jamie raised his arm to the owner and handed over his business card and a one-hundred-dollar bill on which he had written his number. He was finding it hard to breathe suddenly and left quickly.

Claire was giggling at the tips and cards that came in from the owner. She estimated two- hundred dollars in tips tonight plus her pay. Three hundred dollars for thirty minutes of dancing. A month ago it was all she had for the month and that included groceries.

Geillis walked out of the building with a scrubbed Claire in a baseball cap, looking like a bookworm again. The women talked and joked, poking each other with elbows and laughing hysterically. They both carried garment bags and gym bags with all of Claire’s costumes and props. They embraced and separated, neither aware of the eyes that watched the door. Engines were started and the women drove away, leaving Jamie well hidden in the shadows of the parking lot.

He watched closely as patrons emptied out of the restaurant. Where was she, he wondered? He recognized the owner come out as a car pulled right up to the door. Jamie saw two women rush into the back seat, the owner in front, and then they were gone. The restaurant was closed for the night. Jamie concluded the dancer was the owner’s daughter, so he had a bit more information about the woman who stole his soul tonight. The fact he was now stalking her was completely lost on him.

Ordinarily, Jamie Fraser was a gentleman with a strict moral code and impeccable manners. The upbringing from his parents and his Hollywood handsome looks made women trust him and forget their own name when he charmed them. The dancer would fall, straight into his lap, no matter who her father was. Of that he was sure.

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mchalowitz · 4 years

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the process by which time passes

REPOST. you guys. @lilydalexf is the true mvp of this saga. she happened to have the story still open and was kind enough to send it to me. i owe her so much gratitude (as well as the other amazing xf bloggers that reached out to me). although i don’t interact much socially around here, it is amazing to be a part of a fandom that is so kind and supportive! writing xf fic is a creative outlet i enjoy so much and i love sharing it. now back to our regularly scheduled reading. (also if you guys wouldn’t mind boosting this new version so i can see the feedback, i would be so grateful.)

this is something i’ve been writing (at this point) for probably almost a year, which is one reason i’ve been pretty quiet on the fic-posting front. i’m so excited for everyone to finally see it but terrified at the idea that it’s not just an idea that only i know about anymore. it was originally the back half of a wip i abandoned but i couldn’t let this part go. enjoy!!

Mulder gives her a tight hug on the side of a desert highway. Scully presses her forehead to his chest, hoping her thoughts might leave her mind, reach his heart, and convince him to stay. He still gets in the SUV and she never sees him again.

In true Fox Mulder fashion, his physical presence isn’t needed to be a constant reminder. Government officials that she once exchanged pleasantries with at the coffee machine bang down her door and rip apart the life he abandoned.

“Have you heard anything?”

Skinner rifles through papers until the door clicks shut. Her badge feels heavy on her lapel. It feels wrong to be here.

“Only the official warrant,” Skinner answers. That was weeks ago. She has to frequently remind herself that he is doing the best he can. He can’t make it too obvious he’s interested in the hunt. She certainly can’t go digging herself.

“They’re closing the X-files,” he informs her. “There is an appeal process…”

“That’s not necessary,” Scully interrupts. “My assignment was to assess the validity of Mulder’s investigations. There is nothing to assess.”

“You believe in the work.”

“I’m a scientist,” she reminds him, offering nothing else.

Her final report is a jumble of words that states, no matter what she believed, the X-Files should never be reopened.

–

Scully spends idle days breathing in wet air on her mother’s porch. She hopes the sea might soothe her.

A week later, as she plans her return to Washington, she decides emphatically that it did not.

She discovers heart medication in her mother’s bathroom cabinet. Maggie attempts to downplay the circumstances, “It was a blip on a screen, Dana. The doctor said it was just precautionary,” but to Scully, it’s a call to action.

It isn’t difficult to resign. It seemed like it should, after giving the FBI almost a decade of herself, and much, much more than that.

She cries silently in her car after handing over the keys to her dream apartment and saying goodbye to her meticulously curated life.

She reminds herself starting over is the only way to move on. But she isn’t sure she believes it.

–

Scully is a seasoned Special Agent of the FBI, an instructor of pathology, but she struggles to call herself a doctor. After an onslaught of rejected resumes, she begins to believe the medical community of Maryland agrees.

A small hospital outside Baltimore is wowed by her determination alone. At the bottom of the ladder, no one knows the reputation of Agent Scully. She showed promise and expertise in her role, even if her partner was a kook. Dr. Scully has never formally practiced medicine and her bedside manner leaves something to be desired.

Scully hopes for an opening in pathology, where she might be more understood. John From Human Resources hums along with her plight. “I’ll keep an eye out,” he promises.

She begins noticing him behind her in the cafeteria line. On a fall day, she is trying to decide on the best fruit cup when he sides up to her. He is whisper-quiet, conspiratorial in tone when he says, “I wanted to give you a heads up that Dr. Harris may be retiring at the end of the year.”

The may sounds more like an is. A weight inside her lifts.

John assures her she is the first choice when the position officially becomes available. When he leads her to her new office in January, he asks her out to drinks to celebrate, and Scully is surprised, because she forgot people could see her that way.

John is completely unlike anyone else she’s been with. He is endlessly dependable. She never has to worry about where he is because he calls when he’ll be late. He thrives on a fastidious routine and makes safe, informed decisions.

Scully finally moves out of her mother’s house and into a modern three-bedroom she purchases with John. She leads an entirely new life. She climbs the ranks in pathology and is still able to go on real dates, and eat home cooked meals while they’re still hot, and sit in the pew every Sunday. She goes on weekend hikes and uninterrupted trips to the coast and has fine, but not life changing, sex. She accepts John’s proposal on the beach with a beautiful ring.

They have a small wedding. She doesn’t take his last name.

John tries so hard, never asks about her time in the FBI, even tries to adopt a child with her. When it falls through at the last minute, they decide on a dog instead. They get divorced after two years.

In her office one late morning, the phone on her desk lights up. “Dr. Scully, there’s a man on line one asking for you.”

“Thank you,” she says into the speaker. She picks up the receiver with the assumption of a request for a consult. “This is Dr. Scully.”

“Hey, Scully, it’s me.”

She drops the phone.

–

Scully’s stomach is in knots. She is too nervous to order any food. Mulder sits across from her at a diner, looking older and scruffier, and she wonders if this is all a cruel hallucination.

“Where have you been?”

His fingers tap nervously on the table. “Farrs Corner.”

After exploring little towns in the far reaches of nowhere, she remembers that’s Virginia. When she presses for how long, she discovers he’s been within driving distance almost this entire time. Her fingers clench. She wants to strangle him.

“It’s been six years, Mulder. Why now?”

“The FBI dropped the charges against me. I helped them with a case, they wiped the slate clean. I can start my life again, Scully, come back.”

Forget strangle, Scully wants to kill him. He thinks he can just come back? His ignorance to the domino effect of his actions has to be purposeful.

There was a life they wanted to live together that never had the chance to become a reality. She has spent six years trying to fill her life with meaning. Her marriage failed, her career path faltered. They have a child that is no longer theirs.

Scully stands from the booth. She stares down at him, asserts her power.

“I thought you were dead.”

He just nods. He suggests she give him a call, now that she has his number.

She doesn’t.

–

Scully always forgave Mulder too quickly; it was their fatal flaw. She frequently ignored this piece of common knowledge by justifying his more unsavory behavior as residual childhood trauma, or a severe lack of social skills, or plainly being obtuse.

She never found a way to justify him leaving her when she needed him without looking like an emotionally manipulated moron. How could she possibly forgive the embarrassment and isolation she felt after giving up her own child for ostensibly no reason?

Scully bared her soul to him, her body, and gave him everything she had, and she still took a backseat to his quest. There was a brief time where she thought something finally switched in him and the quest would take a backseat to her. In the earliest days of the millenium, working their way up from something undefined to something real.

A month passes. She speaks to no one about her meeting with Mulder, but when she has idle moments, it fills her mind. She tries to remain hot when she begins wondering what Mulder’s life is like now. She attempts to imagine how he filled six years worth of time, because he was never a picture of duality, never able to separate his life from his work, and what can he do after leaving it behind?

It’s a slow burning curiosity. Weeks long. She begins to think he didn’t push during their last meeting because he knew it would happen like this.

She scrolls through recent calls to find the number he left on her office phone. Scully hears the hello in that familiar voice and doesn’t hesitate to respond, “Mulder, it’s me.”

–

Scully sees a dream realized when she pulls up to a little house with a spacious porch on sprawling land. Mulder never liked the city.

He is clearly thrilled to finally present his vegetable garden and his paintings while giving her the grand tour. He recounts putting in the new water heater himself and his plans to replace the roof next spring.

Mulder makes her pasta and gives her the “good chair.” When her stomach is full, they talk about old times. She hasn’t talked about these things in years because she knew there was no one else that can laugh about what she saw instead of instantly recoiling except for the man sitting across from her.

“I have to get back,” she realizes when she sees the sun beginning to set out the window. They spent almost the whole day together. He nods in understanding.

“You see I’m not living in squalor,” he jokes as he walks her to her car.

“It certainly wasn’t the dilapidated hut I was expecting,” she teases. Her tone shifts from silly to serious. “You know, Mulder, after our last meeting, I really didn’t want to come here. I thought…I think you know what I thought. But I’m glad I came.”

“I appreciate any chance you’ll give me, Scully,” he replies.

–

Farrs Corner becomes a regular destination.

Mulder easily becomes the companion she was lacking, the return of the best friend she lost. Even with the passage of time, he still knows her better than anyone else.

She stops offering up her free Friday nights for on-call autopsies and tox screens to watch movies with take-out picked up just before civilization ends.

Without a Saturday shift to spoil their fun, they indulge in the full six pack of their favorite beer. His feet are propped on the coffee table next to their abandoned pizza box, as she folds her legs underneath her on the cushion beside him. She is full-bellied and warm.

“I can’t believe you were married,” he says in disbelief, taking a swig from his bottle. “Considering how many of my proposals you turned down.”

“Maybe I would’ve accepted if any of them had been serious.”

“So you’re saying there was a chance?”

She laughs and nudges his shoulder with the side of her bottle.

When she catches his eye, she sees a person that, yes, she thought she might marry someday. When she was younger, less hard, and had never seen the face of a child that was half him, half her.

She leans forward and presses her lips to his, jerking back as soon as he begins to respond. She tries to find something to say, a reasoning, but she finds his curious gaze, and can’t think of anything to say.

He closes the distance between them and starts where she left off. His kiss is wonderful. It’s hopeful and sexy as all hell.

He nudges her jaw aside with his chin, his mouth seeking out her neck. Her fingers tangle in his hair. “Let’s go upstairs,” he suggests.

–

Standing at the foot of his bed, Scully realizes she’s never been in Mulder’s bedroom before. He has simple furnishings; dark wood and soft blues. His belt clunks when it hits the floor. His bare chest warms her back.

She remembers his warmth, his proclivity to be so tender and gentle, and to let her lead the way. She turns and guides him onto the bed.

Modest kisses quickly turn unrestrained. He breaths in long pants as he shoves her panties down her thighs, letting her kick them over her ankle before hooking them over his hips.

He slips in so easily. Scully explores his changed body; the shifting muscles in his back, his thinner, sweat dampened hair against her hands, his ass clenching as he rocks into her.

Electricity runs through her when his fingers drift to her clit, taking her right to the edge. “Fuck,” he groans, his lips at her ear. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”

She moans in utter bliss, deliriously overtaken. When she comes, she shatters. Mulder thrusts two, three times more, before following behind. He spurts hotly into her with growls of satisfaction.

Breathing heavily, they lay bonelessly on their backs. She feels the sweat cooling at her hairline. Her lips break into a big smile and a laugh leaves her lips. His follows and he raises her hand to his lips, feeling his joyous puffs of air against her skin.

“We are still very good at that,” she decides, turning her head toward him.

“You did always bring out the best in me,” he agrees.

Scully finds his boyish nerves when he mentions spending the night charmingly endearing. She wordlessly moves to press herself into his side, clinging to him in answer.

–

Mulder calls their connection cosmic, though Scully doesn’t believe in cosmicity. An otherworldly connect would trivialize their effort so far in their new era.

She worried how they would assimilate into each other’s worlds without the commonality of what easily linked them before. While their forced separation may never be seen as a positive in her eyes, it did allow for the growth to be content in domesticity.

Scully adores the version of Mulder she met over two decades ago. With his unwavering desire for truth and his absolutely brilliant mind. The hours they can spend talking remind her of that man often. They spar as they always did, laugh like no time has passed.

She delights in the side of him that is at peace with the mundane. He likes filling her drawers with clean scrubs, and working in the yard until he returns smelling like freshly cut grass, and giving her drafts of his paranormal mystery novel.

Uncensored honesty is their biggest challenge. It would be so easy to never discuss what plagued them in the past. They finally get to air their fear, their guilt, and their grief. Scully thinks she and Mulder come out better on the other side.

Mulder leads her to the quiet corners of the world, using his freedom to finally venture off his little property. They luxuriate in the Bahamas shortly after their first night together and they start stopping at all the roadside attractions they used to skip. He plans to finally take her to England and show her all the off beaten paths from his youth. She would go anywhere with him.

A beach house in Maine is this weekend’s activity. Scully accidentally leaves her stack of reading on the desk in her office. “I’ll grab them quick and we’ll go,” she promises him, hanging onto the open passenger side window.

“Don’t leave the coast waiting too long,” he teases. “I’m starting to lose my island glow.” She rolls her eyes at him and pushes up on her toes to kiss him briefly.

Though she promises to be quick, Scully still signs into her computer. She printed out the newest articles hastily before an autopsy and notices now that the first ten pages of the article on top are missing. She finds herself drawn to begin reading when she goes to reprint. She pulls out her chair with blind arms, sitting down absently.

She doesn’t realize how long she’s been gone until she sees Mulder enter. “I was starting to think you’d fallen in,” he jokes.

“Sorry,” she mumbles. He brushes off her apology with a wave of his hand, rounding the desk to brace his hand on the back of her chair.

“What are you reading?” he asks.

Case 43-2009. 8-year-old with Brain Scan Abnormalities Presents Potentially Unseen Neurological Disorder.

She breaks her gaze at the screen to bring her eyes up to Mulder.

“We need to find our son.”

#x files #xf fic #fox mulder #dana scully #msr

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walker-journal · 4 years

Note

Hottest people in White Crest?

Dude, you’re made of thought, what could that question even mean to you? You don’t have glands or any way to feel sexual attraction. Are you just trying to drive me stir crazy through horniness so I’ll run outside these defenses. Or are you legit serious?

Like if I described Penelope, her litheness, how I want to run my hands along the gentle slope of her hips, what does that even mean to you? What if I made it more complicated, like the fact that she can handle herself adds to that desire, how its a nice change flirt with someone I’ll won’t have to protect when shit goes down? But despite knowing she’s more powerful then ill ever be, I still kinna worry about her anyway sometimes?

Bone structure, the tension between unequal power in relations between people? You're a fucking ghost octopus.

Would it do any good If I tried to describe why Blanche makes concentrating on Math so hard. You have no slender shoulders that the lead the eyes down, down and down, until algebra is the farthest thing from a guys thoughts. Do you even know why girls that’ll look me in eye and not just yield to whatever I want can be arousing in a way I’m not used to?

Yeah I know, that’s not what my dreams probably say. But humans are an ugly awkward mix of both meat and spirit, so we’re good at wanting opposing things at the same time.

Can a being who technically never physically moves really appreciate kicking a ball around with Shiloh, admiring the way she moves and legwork in way that's not uh, conducive to actually winning the skirmish? Could a figment of thought relate to the whole process of disappointment and acceptance that comes after learning she’ll never desire me back?

You gotta understand, that doesn’t make her less beautiful in the human sense. Not having the proper brain/gland make up to physically want Ricky or Winn doesn’t make their ridiculous sweaty-muscle-beach-nuke level of man-studness any less obvious. Just like the fact that Lucas and Orion seem too shy to properly leverage all the higher-brow-then-Adam vintage sex appeal, doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

It’s an male monkey acknowledgment thing, if that helps you at all dream squid. Like Noah’s fucking Hawaiian gorgeous which is why him talking about girls that I also have an interest in, brings on jealous murder-rage during boxing. That Kaden is some kind of Beastmaserr-Highlander man-slice is legit annoying. Though the knowing that Alain’s deep daddy-pool eyes probably cause all the soccer-moms at patronizing the garage to whisper “Grease me too!” isn’t as threatening. Its a context thing.

Asher is like some dangerous genetic experiment that combined James Bond with John Wayne, i’ve just accepted I can’t match that level of testosterone fusion reaction.

And yeah, Kaden’s disapproving cock-blockery only makes Regan more attractive. Not that she needed it. I can’t really explain to a spirit-vampire-thing why a deeply professional lady that's quadratically smarter then me would accentuate being the hottest doctor in existence.

Yeah want to be a role model to Athena but like, dayum, seeing the sorority lioness makes me want tother less exemplary things. The fact that she’s also a badass is also a big big plus in the bull moose throughts department. Also being freakishly strong as I am and having to be very …very…careful in certain intimate scenarios with ladies, someone like as strong as me that has Two X chromosomes, definitely a draw.

I know a creature like you can’t imagine “the talk” in teenage years with my ex-marine dad clearing his throat awkwardly and leading with like “So uh, your’re ripping doors off hinges, pulverizing phones while typing to fast, growing hair in weird places, and are probably figuring out that thing between you legs ain't just for watering the grass….sooooo…lets talk about how guys like us can be with a woman without breaking all her bones.

Thats one blessing of being a bodiless spirit, never having to hear your Dad say that. You are very very lucky Dream-eye.

Also uh an ignore all those dreams about the drop-dead gorgeous Beatrice, her sister, and me in a hot tub. Um, I probably need to like, talk to a Rabbi about those.

#Anonymous

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thefilmsnob · 4 years

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The New Mutants: *** out of 5

Has there ever been a movie as destined to fail as The New Mutants? The latest superhero film from 20th Century Fox is based on an X-Men comic book spin-off launched in 1983, not well known by the general public. Even if ‘X-Men’ were added to the film title, it still would be associated with a dwindling movie franchise whose assets have just been absorbed by Disney. The film’s suffered from a lackluster marketing campaign and poor reviews, and oh, we’re also in the midst of a pandemic; folks aren’t exactly rushing to theaters and if they do muster the courage, they’re surely seeing Tenet or the third Bill and Ted adventure.

True, it’s hard to shed many tears over the misfortune of a big studio production or pretend it’s some sort of game-changer…but, it’s actually not terrible. That is to say, considering everything going on in the world right now, it’ll do.

Don’t expect to see any A-listers that you’ve come to know and love like Wolverine, Storm or Professor X. Here, we’re introduced to an entirely new batch of young mutants navigating puberty along with the angst and superpowers that accompany that crucial life stage. You won’t find the typical Marvel template here either, at least with respect to tone. Instead of a light action-adventure with heroes battling villains for the fate of the world, writer-director Josh Boone and co-writer Knate Lee have gambled on a horror story set in a confined space where our heroes battle (mostly) internal demons.

Danielle ‘Dani’ Moonstar (Blu Hunt) acts as our surrogate for this pocket of the Marvel Universe. We’re introduced to the young Cheyenne Native American as she flees the destruction of her reservation to find shelter during a tornado. After being knocked unconscious, she awakens in an eerie hospital run by Dr. Cecilia Reyes (Alice Braga, an odd choice for an even odder character adaptation) who informs Dani that she’s a mutant and suggests she stay put until she discovers and controls her power. The doctor also introduces her to the other young mutants who have been brought to the hospital with similar baggage.

This all sound familiar? I did say it was an X-Men spin-off; the patients even think they’re being trained as the next generation of the iconic team. Well, they’re not and although Dr. Reyes tells them they’re to remain in the facility for the protection of themselves and others, she may be omitting some important details. That’s where the narrative diverges from the typical X-Men film. So, besides the appeal of a superhero tale mixed with horror elements, the other major selling point is the idea of a group of impressionable young mutants being discovered by actors much less benevolent than the great Charles Xavier.

The filmmakers are on to something here, but the short 94-minute run time and all-but-certain interference from studio execs don’t leave the artists much room to juggle a horror film, superhero film and coming-of-age story all at once. There are moments throughout when the various genre elements do work—alone or in conjunction—but they never coalesce into something that transcends their potential. It’s not scary enough, the action is sparce and the character arcs are unremarkable. It’s a shame; the X-Men franchise has always worked as an allegory for the anxieties and struggles that accompany puberty and the additional horror element could’ve really amplified this idea had the film dared to dig deeper.

It’s not as if the movie’s devoid of interesting characters with which to explore these issues. In fact, the core mutants and their interactions arguably are more compelling than those in the original X-Men from 2000, where some iconic superheroes like Cyclops and Storm felt like afterthoughts.

That said, the quality of character and performance on display is still inconsistent. Maisie Williams gives the best performance as the earnest Rahne Sinclair whose power of lycanthropy is at odds with her religion. This kind soul quickly befriends the alienated Dani. Anya Taylor-Joy and Charlie Heaton are fine as Illyana Rasputin and Sam Guthrie; the former can summon magical swords, armour and portals while the latter blasts through the air like a cannonball, becoming invulnerable mid-flight. They’re skilled actors but lay it on a bit thick with her Russian accent and his southern drawl; though, you have to respect Taylor-Joy’s charisma and her amusingly hostile attitude toward Dani. Henry Zaga plays Roberto da Costa, the typical cocky playboy who can manipulate solar energy. He has his moments.

Unfortunately, Hunt gives the weakest performance as Dani whose powers are as hard to pin down here as they are in the comics (something about creating illusions based on emotions). She’s the one with whom you’re supposed to empathise the most, but it’s challenging when the pain and vulnerability on display rarely feel authentic.

Kudos to the production team, though, for following the lead of comic book icon Chris Claremont and including several females and people of colour in the film while adding a same-sex relationship. Kudos to them, as well, for staying faithful to the mutants’ cool powers from the comics despite them being exhibited so sparingly. It would’ve been nice to see Sam blasting around a bit more or Rahne in full ‘beast mode’. This goes for the action in general. It’s refreshing to see a superhero film that doesn’t bombard our senses for 2.5 hours, but in The New Mutants, the pendulum swings too far the other way. The final battle practically ends before it begins, but at least a certain purple creature makes a most welcome appearance.

It’s hard being too critical toward a comic book film with a relatively small budget whose creators really tried to do something different. You almost feel bad that it’ll be lost amidst Disney’s acquisition of Fox and their incorporation of the X-Men properties into the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Honestly, the restructure is for the best; the famously inconsistent franchise could use the MCU makeover. And, yet, when the credits started rolling and I realized I might not see these five individuals again, imperfections and all…I felt a little bummed out. That’s gotta count for something, right?

#new mutants #marvel #movie review #comic books

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newstfionline · 4 years

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Headlines

Heat Wave (CNN) Thursday, there were 45 million people in the U.S. who were under excessive heat watches or warnings, and this weekend that number is projected to be 50 million. This weekend over a hundred record highs may be set across the country, and Death Valley is forecasting temperatures of 125 degrees Fahrenheit for the four consecutive days from Friday to Monday. Out of 3,240 September days since 1911, just nine saw Death Valley hit a temperature of 120 degrees Fahrenheit or higher.

7 Officers Suspended as a Black Man’s Suffocation Roils Rochester (NYT) Seven Rochester police officers were suspended on Thursday in the suffocation of a Black man as he was being detained in March, although the mayor and senior state officials faced escalating questions about why more than five months passed before action was taken. The man, Daniel Prude, who was having a psychotic episode, was handcuffed by officers after he ran into the street naked in the middle of the cold night and told at least one passer-by that he had the coronavirus. Mr. Prude began spitting, and the officers responded by pulling a mesh hood over his head, according to police body camera footage. When he tried to rise, the officers forced Mr. Prude face down on the ground, one of them pushing his head to the pavement, the video footage showed. Mr. Prude was held down by the police for two minutes, and had to be resuscitated. He died a week later at the hospital. His death did not receive widespread attention until Wednesday, when his family released raw police videos of the encounter, which they just obtained through an open records request. The scene—a Black man, handcuffed and sitting in a street, wearing nothing but a white hood—seemed a shocking combination of physical helplessness and racist imagery from another era.

Portland’s grim reality: 100 days of protests, many violent (AP) Once hailed as one of the most livable U.S. cities, Portland, Oregon, is grappling with an uncertain future as it reaches a stunning benchmark: 100 consecutive nights of racial injustice protests marred by vandalism, chaos — and the killing of a supporter of President Donald Trump. The demonstrations that started in late May after the police killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis have divided residents and embarrassed the city’s beleaguered Democratic mayor. They have also transformed Oregon’s largest city into a centerpiece of Trump’s “law and order” re-election campaign theme, even as activists slam the police for aggressive tactics. Amid the turbulence, Portland now finds itself as a proxy for the culture wars sweeping the nation. In July, thousands of demonstrators turned out nightly, with some hurling fireworks, rocks, ball bearings and bottles at the agents. They responded with huge plumes of tear gas, rubber bullets and flash-bang grenades that created chaotic, war zone-like scenes. Those clashes ended July 31, when state police took over from U.S. agents. But smaller protests have continued, with groups of 100 to 200 people marching nightly. Clashes are common. Police say they are stretched so thin that they don’t have time to adequately investigate — or even respond to routine calls. “Portland desperately needs calm,” Police Chief Chuck Lovell said.

U.S. court: Mass surveillance program exposed by Snowden was illegal (Reuters) Seven years after former National Security Agency contractor Edward Snowden blew the whistle on the mass surveillance of Americans’ telephone records, an appeals court has found the program was unlawful—and that the U.S. intelligence leaders who publicly defended it were not telling the truth. In a ruling handed down on Wednesday, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit said the warrantless telephone dragnet that secretly collected millions of Americans’ telephone records violated the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act and may well have been unconstitutional. Snowden, who fled to Russia in the aftermath of the 2013 disclosures and still faces U.S. espionage charges, said on Twitter that the ruling was a vindication of his decision to go public with evidence of the National Security Agency’s domestic eavesdropping operation. Evidence that the NSA was secretly building a vast database of U.S. telephone records—the who, the how, the when, and the where of millions of mobile calls—was the first and arguably the most explosive of the Snowden revelations published by the Guardian newspaper in 2013. Up until that moment, top intelligence officials publicly insisted the NSA never knowingly collected information on Americans at all.

Sex, delayed (NYT) The decline of high school sex continues. In the early 1990s, slightly more than half of U.S. teenagers had sexual intercourse before graduating from high school. Last year, only 38 percent of high school graduates had done so, according to recently released government survey data. The decline spans demographic groups and has been sharpest among Black teenagers. These trends are part of “a more general turn away from risky behavior among teens,” Charles Fain Lehman writes for the Institute for Family Studies. “As psychologist Jean Twenge has documented, contemporary teens not only have less sex but also drink alcohol less and drive less.” Those who do have sex are more likely to use contraception.

Cuba welcomes first tourists in months (Reuters) Cuba rolled out the red carpet on Friday for the first planeload of tourists to arrive on the Communist-run island in months as it struggles toward a post-pandemic new normalcy. The import-dependent country has been plunged into crisis and scarcity by tough U.S. sanctions and the COVID-19 outbreak. The arrival was seen as a hopeful sign for tens of thousands of laid-off leisure industry employees, shuttered small businesses and hard-pressed residents in general. An Air Canada plane arrived at midday at the Cayo-Coco airport on the northcentral coast. Air Canada Vacations, the airline’s tour business, said it would now fly weekly to Cuba and biweekly beginning next month. Canada has long been Cuba’s most important tourist provider, accounting for 1.1 million of the 4.2 million arrivals in 2019, according to the government.

Pandemic Drives Millions from Latin America’s Universities (NYT) Her mother, a housekeeper, never made it past second grade. Her father, a policeman, never finished high school. But Lina Prieto had won a spot in the writing program at Colombia’s most prestigious public university. Her goal—to write the next great Latin American novel—felt within reach. Over the past two decades, millions of young people in Latin America became the first in their families to head to college. But as the pandemic grips the region, killing hundreds of thousands and devastating economies, an alarming reversal is underway: Millions of university students are leaving their studies, according to the Inter-American Development Bank. Enrollment is expected to drop by as much as 25 percent in Colombia by the end of the year, with similar numbers expected in other countries. Ms. Prieto, 30, a single mother who helps support her parents, lost her job as a receptionist. Unable to pay tuition, she dropped out—and lost her daughter’s spot at the university’s preschool as well. “This was my year,” she said. “And it’s all come tumbling down.”

Britain deploys military drones to stop migrants in rafts from crossing English Channel (Washington Post) Britain this week began deploying sophisticated military drones to patrol the English Channel to end a surge in crossings by desperate migrants trying to reach its shores. The deployment of expensive military aircraft to stop migrants—many of them Yemenis and Iraqis—in rubber dinghies from entering the country comes as Britain prepares to tighten its immigration and asylum laws after it leaves the European Union at year’s end. Recent stretches of warm, calm days along the sea border between Britain and France have led to a steep increase in the number of small boats attempting the crossing. At the Strait of Dover, the Channel is only 21 miles wide, but it can be dangerous, hammered by high winds. The strait is also one of the busiest commercial shipping lanes in the world.

Macron decries 'Islamic separatism,' defends blasphemy (AP) French President Emmanuel Macron criticized Friday what he called “Islamic separatism” in his country and those who seek French citizenship without accepting France’s “right to commit blasphemy.” Macron defended satirical newspaper Charlie Hebdo, which published caricatures of the Prophet Muhammad that helped inspire two French-born Islamic extremists to mount a deadly January 2015 attack on the paper’s newsroom. The weekly republished the images this week as the trial began of 14 people over the attacks on Charlie Hebdo and on a kosher supermarket. Speaking at a ceremony Friday celebrating France’s democratic history and naturalizing new citizens, the French president said, “You don’t choose one part of France. You choose France....The Republic will never allow any separatist adventure.” Freedom in France, Macron said, includes “the freedom to believe or not to believe. But this is inseparable from the freedom of expression up to the right to blasphemy.” Noting the trial that opened Wednesday, he said, “To be French is to defend the right to make people laugh, to criticize, to mock, to caricature.”

Russia presses Germany for more detail on Navalny, urges ‘transparency’ (Reuters) The Kremlin said on Friday that it wanted dialogue with Germany over the case of opposition politician Alexei Navalny and that Russian doctors who treated him initially were much more transparent than the German doctors treating him now. Kremlin spokesman Dmitry Peskov said Moscow wanted to find out from Germany what exact substance caused Navalny to fall ill in Siberia last month. “According to the version of our doctors it wasn’t a poisoning,” Peskov said. “The German specialists managed to establish some kind of poisonous substance. We’re counting on a dialogue with our German colleagues.” Navalny is the most popular and prominent opponent of President Vladimir Putin, and the German announcement this week that he was poisoned by a nerve agent has raised the possibility of further Western sanctions against Moscow.

Russia turns up the heat in the eastern Mediterranean (Foreign Policy) Turkey announced late Wednesday evening that Russian forces will conduct live-fire exercises in the eastern Mediterranean amid a deepening crisis with Greece. Greek government spokesman Stelios Petsas said the Russian exercises would be “monitored by all the countries in the region, as well as our NATO allies and European Union partners.” It is unclear why Turkey announced the exercises on Russia’s behalf, but the two countries have sought to strengthen their ties in recent years, so it could be a sign that Russia is prepared to flex its military muscle in support of Turkey’s regional ambitions.

China’s rise takes the world into uncharted waters (AP) Twice in the 20th century, Japan challenged the West, first in a military-led attempt to become an imperial power and then as an industrial powerhouse. Now it is China’s turn to take the global stage. Seventy-five years after Japan’s surrender in World War II, and 30 years after its economic bubble popped, the emergence of a 21st century Asian power is shaking up the status quo. As Japan did, China is butting heads with the established Western powers, which increasingly see its growing economic and military prowess as a threat. In turn, China, again like Japan, feels the West is trying to limit its rise, fueling nationalistic sentiment among both its public and leaders. China’s goals are similar to Japan’s—to assert control in its immediate neighborhood while securing resources for its economic growth—but its means are different. Rather than imposing direct control through armed invasion, China is relying on economic enticements, cultural outreach and a gradual buildup of its military forces to boost its standing. The rest of Asia is watching with a mixture of opportunism and trepidation, eager to benefit from China’s trade and investment, wary of its size and strength and its sprawling territorial claims. Much larger than Japan, with 10 times the population, it is potentially better able to go toe-to-toe with an established superpower.

Australian protests at virus restrictions grow (Reuters) Australia’s prime minister pressed states to reopen their borders by December and ease restrictions, as businesses and locked-down households vented their frustration over deepening revenue and job losses. Prime Minister Scott Morrison said the country would look to bring more Australians home, raising the cap from 4,000 a week, and suggested an eventual travel bubble with New Zealand would boost tourism and help revive the economy, which has fallen into recession for the first time since 1991. “In the absence of a vaccine, we may have to live this way for years,” Morrison told reporters.

Despite pressure from Trump, Arab nations resist normalizing ties with Israel (LA Times) When he announced a potentially historic deal last month in which Persian Gulf nation United Arab Emirates said it was preparing to recognize Israel, President Trump predicted other Arab states would quickly follow suit. But after two trips through the region by senior Trump advisors to build on what they hoped would be momentum from the Emirates deal, no other Arab nation has said it is willing to take the long-shunned leap to accept and recognize Israel as a legitimate Mideast neighbor, at least not until Israel resolves its conflict with Palestinians. They may be waiting to see what happens with the U.S. election in November, as well as the final details of an Israeli-Emirati deal, expected to be signed later this month or next. But their hesitance also reflects decades of political and religious tension. One obstacle is the two-decade-old Arab-sponsored peace plan in which countries of the region vowed to not recognize Israel until it resolved its conflict with Palestinians over land claimed by both sides, including some of the world’s holiest sites in Jerusalem. Negotiations between Israelis and Palestinians broke down years ago, and relations have only worsened under Trump.

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