#they were hardly even in this ep but I felt them
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Me convincing my friends to watch kinnporsche:
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on leather wings - papa emeritus iv x f!reader
copia surprises you with a spooky weekend getaway, culminating in some winged bedroom time
a/n: it's finally here! 2.7k words. fucking, fingering, rough sex kind of, copia being adorable, etc. etc. mdni! 18+! hoping to get myself out of writer's block with this one :') ao3 link! and yes... i named this after an ep of btas
You step out of the car, a ghoul quick to take your bag from you, and you are met with a black Victorian home with an impeccably nurtured lawn. It looks warm and inviting, like there’s a hot cup of tea waiting for you inside. You make your way down the short gravel path to the front door, entering the code you had been texted not long ago. The latch clicks and you twist the knob, pushing the door open and stepping into the dark foyer. A chandelier hangs in the center of the room, dimly lighting the intricate black and red wallpaper and the antique mahogany display case that is filled with witchy decor. A small smile flickers across your face as another ghoul enters the room and whisks you away down a hallway.
At the end of it is a grand dining room with a lush fireplace heating the room. You immediately see him, standing behind the chair at the head of the table, dressed in his usual tattered suit and blue cravat.
“Ah, amore, you made it! I hope the instructions, eh, weren’t too… confusing. I was quite a bit excited when I wrote them.” Papa clasps his hands together in delight. He saunters over to you, his lips pulled into a wide grin. You are quick to meet him, his hands reaching to hold onto your arms and stroke along the backs of your elbows. “How are you? How was the drive, eh?”
“I’m good and it all went smoothly but, Copia, what is all this? Is something going on?” You are excited of course but you can’t help but feel concern. Something about this – the instructions, the ghouls, the dining room table lined with delicious food – has a last night on Earth vibe. The broad smile on his face helps ease the feelings though.
“Nothing to worry about, amore.” Copia can sense your unease, his words light and even. “This is a treat for you and I, something different… something nice, something just for us.” He gives you a knowing look. Copia was never one to complain about his duties even when he was at the brink of exhaustion but it pained him to let it affect your relationship. There’s been less time for you in his schedule and while you understand that his role is extremely important to the Clergy there were times you felt a bit overlooked.
“I was thinking about dinner and then maybe a movie, eh? A classic date.” He is adorable and you can’t get over it. There’s something about Copia in this setting that makes your heart race and your cheeks red. Your eyes flicker around the dining room again, thinking that maybe the two of you would have ended up in a home like this if they lived drastically different lives.
“That sounds… perfetto.” Copia’s face lights up at your poor sounding Italian. He pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, intimate embrace. His breath tickles your ear and he gives it a soft nip before pulling away and squeezes your arms once again.
A movie night that won’t get interrupted by Sister Imperator or one of her secretaries? Your face lights up. It’s been so long since the two of you were able to enjoy each other’s company without some kind of interruption.
Dinner truly is perfect. He made you your favorite: seafood fra diavolo and he makes sure to give you extra shrimps since they are your favorite. Copia has your wine glass filled every time it goes below halfway and he is constantly asking how the food is and if you need anything, anything at all. Copia’s gaze hardly leaves you, he spends most of the dinner holding your hand, playing with your fingers, that you end up almost yelling at him to actually eat between small giggles.
Having him to yourself like this is almost overwhelming. Gradually, after you’ve finished forcing Copia to enjoy his own food, the two of you make your way to the cozy, witchy den and onto the couch.
“What movie? I’m sure you already have one picked out.” You shift closer to him on the couch, your knees touching now. Copia takes the blanket beside him and opens it, draping it across the two of you before he leans against you, resting his head on your shoulder.
“Ovviamente.” He breathes against the shell of your ear. “Bram Stoker’s Dracula, if you are still in a, eh, spooky mood.” You can feel him smile into your neck and you suck in a sharp breath, snuggling even further against him under the blanket.
“That’s perfect.” Your voice drops to a whisper. Copia’s arms curl around your waist, pulling you in even closer to him and nestling you against his chest before starting the movie. It feels almost magical that you’re able to sit here with your love in comfortable silence while watching one of your favorite movies. There’s never any silence at the abbey, not until the later hours of the evening when you’re finally able to see Copia after a long day of his duties. The only interruption comes close to the end of the movie when his lips press to your neck, sending a thrill down your spine.
“I have a surprise for you. Una piccola sorpresa.” Copia murmurs against your hair, feeling his breath huff against you. “Meet me upstairs, per favore? Give me like, eh… ten minutes?” You tilt your head up to look at him, taking in the soft smile on his face and you give a small nod. He presses a kiss to your forehead and gets up from the couch, leaving you alone in the den.
This all feels so special. More special than anything he’s ever done for you in the past. You know why it had to be a secret. You would have told him to get some rest instead of planning an elaborate weekend for the two of you. He deserved to have time to himself, to relax after touring the world with the ghouls. But it was just like him to want to spend that time doing something nice for you. This is the first time the two of you have been able to get away from the abbey since you started seeing each other.
And it’s perfect. Your eyes sweep over the den, the spooky decor and interior making you feel right at home. You’re already buzzed from the Papastrello and you feel cozy under the blankets. The grandfather clock in the room ticks away, your eyes fixated on the time, mindfully counting down until ten minutes had passed. You can’t keep your Papa waiting.
After the minutes go by, you start to head up the stairs, anticipation in your steps. The door to the bedroom is slightly open and you try to get a peek into the dim room but you don’t see Copia. You push the door open with a small creak and you immediately hear Copia groan from the bathroom, which stops you in your tracks. You’re sure you’re not too early… but you don’t want to disturb him even though it sounds like he could use some help. You push the door open a bit more, slowly and step inside.
“Amore? Is that you?” Copia asks in a hushed whisper, stress hanging in his voice. For a moment you’re too anxious to answer but you manage to squeak out a response.
“It is.”
“Oh, bene bene.” He sighs, his relief evident in his voice. “I am, ugh, having some trouble with the surprise.”
“How can I help?” You are quick to make your way to the bathroom door, trying to listen in to what’s happening on the other side.
“Fuck. It’ll ruin la sorpresa.” He grumbles to himself “I-I’m sorry you couldn’t see me, eh, completely done.” Before you’re able to tell him not to be sorry at all he emerges from the bathroom and your mind goes completely blank. Even in the lowlight you can see the blush creeping up his freckled shoulders and cheeks. Copia is wearing nothing but a small pair of black briefs, his black gloves with skeleton details and half of his batwing harness, having secured it through one of his arms but not the other. “I, heh, usually have some help getting these on.”
Your mouth opens but you can’t manage words, making an embarrassing grunt as you nod and move in to help him. The leather straps to the harness are smooth in your hands and you work to make sure the other wing is secure before moving to his chest. A breath catches in your throat as your fingers brush along his chest, nails lightly scratching at his chest hair while you pull the leather straps through their buckles. Your cheeks are already burning and you hear your heart thunder in your ears. A groan leaves his lips, his hot breath grazing your forehead which makes your eyes flicker up to his.
Copia’s eyes are dark with devilish lust, his lips parted as he sucks in a sharp breath the second your eyes meet his. His securely fastened arm reaches for you, fingertips slipping underneath the hem of your top to tug you in closer to him by the waist. By the time you finish the last buckle, he has you pressed to his chest with your arms trapped between the two of you. He lifts his other hand to grip you by the chin and tilts your head up to look at him. Your noses are almost touching as your eyes drop to look at his lips.
“Do you like it, amore?” Copia murmurs huskily, his lips hovering so close. You want to tell him that this means the world to you but the way he is looking at you makes it hard to speak. Your lips graze his painted ones so lightly, eyes flickering up to meet his hungry gaze before they squeeze shut as you finally kiss him. The air leaves your lungs when his tongue slips into your mouth, the taste of him enough to take your breath away. Your hands curl around the leather straps to hold onto him as he backs you into an antique desk.
He already has your pants almost off, his hand slipping down the front of your underwear and wasting no time feeling your slick. You moan from his touch, a finger pushing inside of you with ease. Copia shudders and presses his hips to your thigh, his cock throbbing through his tight briefs. He buries his face in your neck as he starts to desperately grind against your thigh while he fingers you, sharp gasps and groans muffled against you. You’re almost light headed by how quickly things have escalated but that doesn’t stop you from slipping your hand between the two of you.
“Do you feel how wet you make me, Papa?” You breathe and he answers with a whine. You push down his briefs, his cock springing free and you take it in your hand, giving it long, languid strokes. Copia shivers, his entire body pausing to take in how good your fingers feel wrapped tightly around him. He lifts his head slowly and your gaze meets his, his pupils blown so wide with lust that they are nearly completely black. You stroke him a few more times before letting go and leaning back on the desk. He huffs at the loss but ends up sucking in a sharp breath as you start to remove your blouse. You take your time, putting on a show for him, making him wait to see you fully. The blouse finally falls from your shoulders and he immediately grabs you, his mouth crushing against yours as his cock presses close to your entrance.
You moan deeply into his mouth and your hands find the leather straps of his harness again, holding onto them tightly. Copia drives his cock into you with a lewd grunt, one hand gripping your shoulder while the other digs into your hip as he fucks into you. It’s rough and possessive, his thighs slapping into yours with each desperate thrust. The desk beneath the two of you rattles with each violent jerk of his hips and you can’t help but hold onto him for dear life. You feel your climax growing inside of you, your abdomen tightening and your legs starting to tense up. He hooks one of his arms beneath your knee and raises your leg up, allowing him to push even deeper inside of you.
You throw your head back and cry out, the new sensation of his cock massaging your deepest, most sensitive spots making your walls flex around him. Copia is panting heavily between whines and growls, his head lowering even further to mouth and lick at your breasts. He groans into your chest and you feel the vibration throughout your body. You feel like you’re teetering on the edge when his full lips find one of your nipples and he sucks it into his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. You come undone then and there, shockwaves gripping your body and your walls clenching around his throbbing cock. A growl catches in his throat as he spills inside of you, his hips jerking wildly before slowly coming to a stop. His heavy breathes fill your ear, your hands still firmly holding his harness as he finally lifts his head and takes a step back to give you some space.
“I, eh, got a little carried away.” Copia sighs and runs a hand over his face, his paints already smeared. “You are just too irresistible, amore.” You can see a light blush on his cheeks just underneath his paints as your fingers start to trace along his full lips.
“Oh, hush.” You smile before chewing on your lower lip. “Sit on the bed. I want to admire your wings.” You gently start to push him toward the bed and he lets you, allowing you to guide him until he reaches the edge. He sits and you push him further so that his back is against the headboard. You slip into his lap and your hands immediately go back to his harness, fingertips grazing where the leather straps and his chest meet. Copia gives a low purr as he leans his head back against the headboard, his eyes falling shut as he basks in your touch.
You’re finally able to get a good look at him now, your eyes taking in how the harness shapes his strong chest. He always looked good in it on stage but this is so much more intimate. The dark straps of the harness stand stark against his bare skin framing his broad chest and extenuating his bulging pecs. Touring had been good to him building softly toned muscle underneath his soft curves that never failed to drive you wild. Now you had him beneath you you couldn't keep your hands off him, tracing where the straps sat snug against his skin, his fluffy body hair tickling your fingertips. They drift over his 666 tattoo while your other hand moves down one of his arms, touching at the strap at his wrist and the tips of his leather wings. He huffs and starts to run his hand up and down your back, his wing brushing against it as his gloved fingers glide down your spine.
“I love you.” The words tumble from your lips once your eyes meet. He makes the smallest, sweetest sound of affection, as the corner of his mouth twitches into a smile before nuzzling into your neck. You feel him squirm beneath you, trying to allow you to continue touching him but his fingers twitch until he finally gives up. Copia’s arms curl against you, pulling you against his chest. His wings press into your bareback, wrapping around your naked body in a way that feels so safe. He holds you there, safe in his embrace, and you don’t dare let him go. Copia raises his lips to your ear.
“Ti ameró per sempre. I am with you always, amore.”
#papa emeritus x reader#papa emeritus iv x reader#copia x reader#dracopia x reader#cardinal copia x reader#papa emeritus#papa emeritus iv#copia#popia#cardinal copia#ghost fanfic#ghost fanfics#ghost fanfiction#ghost band fanfic
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Where's Daryl?
This was very difficult to write. It opened up a lot of old wounds for me, so if you read this, thank you. If my thoughts on this show haven’t been your cup of tea, that’ll most definitely be the case here as well, so maybe just move along. ***Trigger warning for discussion of childhood abuse***
For about a year and a half, Caryl fans asked Where's Carol? as a pointed reminder that the spinoff was always meant to be hers just as much as it was Daryl’s. Even though she's back now, her fans didn't always know she would be (nor did the EP's 🙄) so her absence during filming and promotion of the first season was a heavy burden to bear. The irony is, though “Daryl Dixon” sticks out like a sore thumb in that ridiculous font, he's the one who feels absent sometimes, as if important parts of his character development were lost when he washed ashore while other parts come and go as the plot demands.
Zabel talks about swapping Daryl's iconic vest for "old man" suspenders as a matter of pragmaticism i.e. they were the only clean clothes available. Norman says it was a choice he wanted for some unclear reason, but neither of them seem to consider the intelligence of their audience, particularly Carylers, to see it more symbolically. The costume change is our visual reminder that Daryl isn't himself. In some scenes he's chattier than he should be, far more trusting of strangers with personal details, and far more theatrical. Then in others, the differences are even more alarming. He calls a child cruel names, puts his hands on him, and feels conflicted about returning home to his family, to the woman he said he loved.
I mentally prepared myself for retcons, but the one I'm struggling with a lot right now, which I haven't seen anyone bring up yet, is the retcon of Daryl’s childhood abuse. Daryl tells Isabelle that he and Merle had to take apart engines and if they couldn't put them back together, their dad wouldn't let them have dinner. It's a milder version of the stories the scars on his back tell us, though I can buy Daryl omitting the worst of it like he did in the pilot. What I can't buy is Daryl saying his dad was "hardly ever" around and emphasizing it as the main source of his pain growing up. It feels contradictory for one thing. When we see Daryl's scars for the first time in S3 of the flagship show, it's implied Daryl was trapped in an environment that enabled his dad to physically hurt him often. Presumably that's why Merle felt guilty about leaving him behind. The revelation also seems like it's only intended to highlight the consequences of an absent father figure, explaining Daryl's fear of not making it home, but also justifying his "close" bond with Laurent. The best stories allow a character's emotions to drive the plot, but this just does the opposite, twisting Daryl's backstory to fit the current narrative.
Daryl's backstory made so many people root for him in the first place. It allowed Carol to see him when nobody else in the group could. It helped me process my own childhood trauma. The ways I got to watch him overcome his violent past gave me hope that masculinity could mean more than what I grew up around—more than anger, shouting, and swinging fists. Daryl taught me that men could still be tender, kind, and loving even if those closest to them in their childhood never showed them how. I imagine Daryl's representation has been important to boys and men too, specifically to those who were afraid to speak up about their abuse because of the stigma around it. The implications of this scene may not be easily noticeable to some, but they are to me, and I'm deeply offended by it.
I’ve talked at length on this blog about how it takes a village to make or break a show, though it’s usually the showrunner who has to answer for it. I've already mentioned that I do blame Zabel. His knowledge of French history has no value when he obviously didn’t bother to study Daryl’s history aside from reading old scripts and (maybe) watching the first couple seasons. That's incredibly irresponsible and terrifying for S2. I also blame AMC for their short-sightedness and their determination to save face no matter how much it costs them. I blame Gimple for his pettiness. I blame Greg Nicotero for his insensitivity to Melissa and her fans.
As for Norman, he's hinted very loudly that he wants credit for the show being "different," so in theory he should be prepared to take some of the blame too. I can't name all of the decisions he specifically made, but no matter what they were, I can blame him for not speaking up about the shipbaiting, Daryl's wavering loyalty, and the childhood abuse retcon, all things that hurt his character and hurt the fans. I genuinely don't know what else to think other than Norman didn't give either the consideration they deserve. The show has been treated like nothing more than a vanity project, and it’s unfortunate when you think about what he and AMC had to gain from the original Caryl spinoff.
I love the version of Daryl I knew before this whole mess, I love Carol, and I love the relationship between them. I want them to have the story they deserve in S2. At the moment, I don’t know how to reconcile that with the agony I feel over the damages to half of my two favorite characters. If Carol is going to cross the Atlantic ocean to find Daryl, I want him to be the man who threatened to punch holes in all the boats so she couldn’t leave and the man who told her he loved her before—ironically—leaving himself. I need to hear Daryl admit he hasn't been completely honest with the French characters, not because he was afraid of getting too close to them, but because he didn't want to face the pain of potentially living without Carol and TF. I need to hear him say that he can't be Laurent's father, which is okay because the kid has plenty of other family to take care of him. I need to hear him say, out loud, that he could never love another woman romantically because he's already in love with Carol. That's what I need to feel better about this story. That's where my investment is. I feel like Carol is safe in Melissa's hands, but I don't feel like I have anyone to rely on for Daryl. That’s a big problem because their stories are so intertwined. There’s no Daryl without Carol nor Carol without Daryl. If you ruin one of them, you risk ruining both of them, and that’s a possibility I really can’t bear.
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message in a bottle
a/n: sadness, anger, breakups; and words, lots of it. this was inspired by a couple of new songs i've heard, and you can find them in a playlist i linked below! as usual... comments and love are much appreciated <3
in which singer!y/n leaves five messages on her new album for her ex-boyfriend, charles leclerc.
masterlist here! | playlist here
"mate! did you see?" pierre opened the door to his best friend's apartment, eyes glued to the screen as he set the borrowed clothing items down.
charles looked up from the piano score to him, "see what?"
"razzo's new album, she just put it out last week." charles stared blankly at pierre. he hadn't heard your nickname on such a long time, it almost didn't register to his brain. but of course, how could the universe let him forget about you?
his razzo. his little sky rocket. the nickname you'd gotten from his grandma the first time you visited monaco. and it stuck ever since then.
"do you want to listen to it?" pierre asked.
charles felt like a deer caught in headlights. because he in fact, did really want to listen to the sound of your voice again, but will he ever admit to it?
"no- no, no. there isn't a need to."
"are you sure?" pierre asked again. charles nodded, distracting himself by arranging the score sheet that sat perfectly on the piano.
"okay, i'm just dropping these off. gotta go."
the door closes, and charles takes out his phone immediately, typing your name into the search bar on instagram. of course, you pop up almost instantly, and charles doesn't hesitate before clicking on your name.
his heart flutters when he sees the first picture on your feed. a picture of you smiling from ear to ear, champagne in your hand - classic album release picture;
thereal_y/n: more than a million streams in two days. you guys are unreal!
he reads the congratulatory messages in the comments, scrolling through all your mutual friends until he stops by one that catches his eye.
fans_ofy/n: tell me that cover isn't of monaco?
there's a flurry of other comments following it, and charles couldn't help but to continue scrolling through.
then he sees it in the next post.
the title of the EP - message in a bottle. it was in your handwriting, covering the center of a picture which made charles gasp. that picture. the one he was all too familiar with. the one you took using your film camera in the summer of 2019 - the sunset in monaco, with charles back view being the focal point of it all.
his heart nearly plummets to the ground.
this is why pierre asked if he wanted to listen.
now charles couldn't help but to click on the link in your bio, which led straight to the album on spotify. twenty tracks. ten of which were your voice notes.
he connects his phone to the bluetooth speakers, and pressed play.
go the distance -
"ahhh the opening of an ep. it has to be a banger, right?" you chuckle, "i wrote this a couple of years back when i was in a long distance relationship. It was tough, the both of us having to travel the world for our jobs, we hardly got to see each other."
charles had to hit pause, the sound of your voice too shocking to his system. he covers his mouth with his hand. you sounded so soft, so gentle, like the calm in the absolute chaos of the world. he pressed play.
"and even if we did, it was usually only for a couple of days. it was rough, being so far from the one you loved, but i knew that deep down it was always worth to hold on, because we were so good, and we had the chance of going the distance."
it goes silent for two seconds, before jumping to the tune he knew all too well.
deep down i know, we'll go the distance. charles knew every word to that song. the familiar melody echoing through his house all those years before. hell, he had that song even before it was put together like this. the raw vocals, the squeaking of guitar chords was all he could remember. the way you both slow danced in the kitchen to the stripped down version of it.
he knew the meaning behind every word, the story each line held. it felt like a cruel trip down memory lane, the silhouettes of you and him now floating around the apartment you once shared with him. it was your song with him - yknow the one that every couple has? yeah, this was it.
it wasn't long before the three minutes and forty seconds are up, and the song ends, allowing your voice to come through the speakers again.
heart won't let me -
"now this one," you sigh, "it's a complete switch of moods, a switch in timeline. go the distance was very much at the start of a relationship, when you think everything would work; but then comes heart won't let me, which shows how things don't work. how you're constantly arguing about the same things over and over again. how you struggle to work things out with your partner and you should probably leave but your heart doesn't allow you to."
charles heart squeezes at your words. it went back to you and him, standing in this very apartment, arguing about something he didn't remember -
"why the fuck are we doing this, charles?" you stand, back pressed against the counter top, your arms folded in front of you.
charles rubs his face with his hand, "i don't know! you're the one making a big fuss out of it."
"yeah because you promised to come to the show, charles! my parents, friends, they were all there, excited to see you again-"
"i had a bad race, y/n. forgive me if i didn't want to entertain your people." he said sarcastically.
"then maybe i should leave." you mutter. you grab your keys, one hand on the door, but charles grabs your arm, pulling you towards him. he closes the gap between the two of you, resting his head on top of yours, whispering softly,
"no, don't go."
tears now ran down his face, and he wipes them with the back of his hand. everytime i try, everytime i try to leave, my heart won't let me.
"fuck me," he pauses the song, grabbing a beer from the fridge that he shouldn't be drinking. he scrolls through the tracks, reading each one of the titles. but it doesn't give him much hints, or any form of preempt for his heart.
the next song plays.
what a time -
"what a time - this one has got to be my favourite. it literally came about with one chord and one phrase from me. ahaha, we were in the studio pretty soon after my breakup, and mikey just looked at me, asking why i looked so grim. he was playing a chord over and over again and i told him about my breakup, about everything."
"fuck." charles mutters, taking another swig from the bottle. he didn't know if he could take it. not hearing your voice for six months straight, and he's now listened to it for ten minutes.
"but yeah, this is about a night i had with someone. we were in belgium, it was literally in the middle of the night-" you laugh breathlessly, "we sat in a park and talked for hours upon hours about our future. and when i look back at it now i just think - what a time, yknow?"
"mmm, and i thought it would be good to have a male perspective of things; because breakups or relationships, they always involve two people, and i wanted to hear the other side, his side of things. that's how niall came into the picture. we wrote this, pretty much in twenty minutes? now i'm just rambling, haha- hope you guys like this one as much as i do."
charles holds on to the neck of the beer bottle so tightly that his knuckles turn white. i admit that i think about it sometimes. your voice start to turn into white noise.
you both sat on a park bench at 2AM in the morning, just after the belgium gp. charles head was in your lap, your hand massaging his scalp. the air was cool, and quiet; the perfect setting for the both of you.
"how many kids should we have?" charles asked.
"i want two, at least."
"a boy and a girl?" you nod.
"where should we raise them?"
"monaco." you stated simply. he sat up to face you, "not in the states? or france - where your parents are?"
"oh never in the states. i live there because of my job, and besides, france is literally a stones throw away from monaco- we can decide when the time comes, love." you smile, cuddling into his arms.
irrational anger bubbles in his chest - who was this niall? and who the fuck is he to give his perspective on a breakup that he wasn't even involved in? what a lie, what a lie. charles disconnected his phone from the speakers and put in his airpods.
he needed to get out of here before he drowned in painful memories.
when you lose someone -
the elevator ride down seemed to last a lot longer than he remembered.
"more sad ballads...i probably should put a warning on this thing."
"this is about losing someone that you love. well to be honest, it was meant for my grandma, the light of my life that i lost last year. but in between then and the million things happening, the song got morphed into losing the love of your life. and yeah- i, i think it speaks for itself."
your voice echoes in his brain now, fogging his mind. and he doesn't realise that pierre, his every loving best friend, was waiting downstairs. charles stops right in front of him, and the dejected look on his face tells pierre everything he needed to know.
"you listened to it?" pierre was stating the obvious. he knew charles would listen to it. he knew he didn't have the control to stop himself. he knew he still cared.
"i'm left with the last two." charles tells him.
"give me the keys."
"you're not driving my-"
"then we'll take my car," pierre readily unlocks the honda. charles didn't protest, climbing into the passengers seat.
he connects his phone to the speakers in the car, and the song plays while pierre drives into the night. It feels like a Ferrari racing. pierre hears the lyric, his eyes darting to his friend who's expression falters just slightly. he wants to press the radio button, but charles swats his hand away.
"maybe this was a bad idea." pierre mutters.
charles just looks out of the window, the skyline of monaco passing him, "just drive, please."
he had to listen to it all, he had to know how much he hurt you.
"maybe we should break up."
"excuse me?"
you had been arguing over the last ten minutes, over something so minuscule it was ridiculous. charles had had a bad race weekend, and you, well you had just lost your grandmother. the both of you in the worst frame of mind possible.
but you hadn't expected him to say those words.
"maybe i should leave." charles repeats. you frown, trying to close the gap between the both of you but he moves away. you knew the words were no longer an empty threat. they held weight; very heavy, heavy weight.
"why are you doing this, charles?"
"its for your sake, y/n." he couldn't even look you in the eye when he spoke.
"bullshit. don't put this on me when you stopped fighting for us. you stopped loving me."
"i love you, razzo."
"then why now? why after the funeral? why at my lowest, at my breaking point did you decide it was right to break up with me?!" you screamed so loud, charles was afraid the entire family was going to barge into the room.
"because i can't do this anymore, mon ange. but i promise-" he reaches to grab your hand, but you pull away quickly.
"get the fuck out of my sight."
charles takes a huge inhale, and pierre is at the verge of muting the radio. when you lose somebody you love. the hardest thing i've ever had to learn.
"charles-"
"pierre, please. just let me listen." but pierre hits the pause button on the speakers, stopping at a red light. he turns to his best friend.
"i have to tell you something." charles nods slowly, looking into his friend's eyes,
"she's in monaco."
time freezes for him. pierre doesn't have a choice but to turn back to the steering wheel and keep driving when the light changes. he sat in silence, unable to play the last voice note, the last song. the car pulls to a stop at a building, one that charles knew all too well.
and they let the next track play.
come back home
"come back home," you sigh, "if you haven’t noticed, i wrote this for him." you pause, "this entire EP, from start to finish was a message for him. for us. i don't know. i thought alot about it, before i released this EP. i thought about the consequences of my actions and words. but the more i let these songs sit with me in a closet, the worse i felt. so i decided to release this, as a message in a bottle. you know? like the ones that you find at the beach? i don't know if it only happens in movies but yeah. this is for the both of us, for him, if he ever listens - to come back home."
from the outside, it wasn't clear who he was, because god knows you had your share of exes. but charles knew.
pretending that we don't care, but tension cuts the air. you never stopped caring. in fact, you cared more than ever. getting regular updates from the rest of the drivers on the grid about charles. watching every race, every interview, just to get a glimpse of him.
"why don't you ask him yourself, razzo?"
"we're not together anymore, pierre." you paced around your apartment in LA, the 2021 abu dhabi gp podium ceremony playing in the background.
"but you obviously still care." pierre sighs.
"i never stopped caring, pierre. charles was the one that left, remember?"
charles finally had the courage to speak, "she's up there?"
"she's with daniel and lando. but they're on their way back, if you want to see her."
he nods. hell, what do I know where you and I go? damn it, I hope you come back home.
both of them had gotten out of the car, resting on its hood in a comfortable silence until they hear a commotion.
they turn their attention to the noise, and there you stood, in all your glory. laughing at something the boys had said, arms linked with the both of them as you strut down the pavement. lando nudged you to the direction of the two drivers.
your breath is caught in your throat.
charles' heart races.
daniel and lando take the hint, unlooping their arms from yours, bidding you goodbye. charles had to admit that you looked amazing - dress hugging your curves in all the right ways, your hair cut till your shoulders, the way it framed your face so well. oh, how he missed you.
pierre pushes him forward, and they make their way towards you; giving small waves to the mclaren drivers as they leave.
"hi razzo," pierre hugs you, "hi pierre."
he pats you on the shoulder, then charles, and they exchange something in french before he leaves.
leaving you alone, with him.
you laugh nervously, "guess you listened?"
"razzo-"
"charles-"
"ladies first," charles chuckled. it felt too real.
"would you like to come up? for a coffee?" you gestured to the lobby of your apartment, "i really just want to get these heels off."
charles nodded, following you up to your home. he operates on autopilot, taking off his shoes, then kneeling on the ground to help with the straps of your heels-
"charles..." you breathe out, a pained expression on your face. then he panics. he pulls his hand away from your ankles, standing up quickly. you hurry to unbuckle the straps on your own, padding towards the kitchen.
"water, coffee, tea or beer?" you peek from behind from the fridge door.
"water." charles replies. you hand him a bottle, settling for a beer for yourself. it was awkward, standing in an apartment with your ex, after releasing an entire album for him- to him.
"razzo. i- i je suis désolé. i'm sorry." charles sighs, sinking his forehead into his hands. you squeeze his forearm, a sad look on your face.
"je ne trouve pas les mots" i can't find the words. he tells you.
"then use your actions."
it almost felt like a taunt, as if you were mocking him. but charles took his shot, leaning forward and kissing you softly. something that he had been yearning to do the day you packed up your bags and left. and you let him, gave him permission to continue. his hand cupped your face softly, and he could taste the same strawberry chapstick on your lips.
he pulls away first, forehead still pressed against yours.
"pas besoin de s'excuser," no need to be sorry, you finally tell him. you caress his cheek with your thumb, "i'm just glad you got the message."
taglist: @primadonnasdream @dr3lover @chicadelapartamento512-blog @thebagginsofbaggend @starlightoctavia @d0ntjudgemy50shades @cowspew @justthatgirlxox @ggaslyp1 @fromthedeskofjoii @lorenakaspersen @words-4u @o0itsjustme0o @ambrosialilly @totowolfff @gulsolsikke @enjoymyloves @rmaddens @care2703 @katcontrreras @tattered-tales @luvrboygaslys @piceous21 @shristi-jaluka @kyomihann @sgkophie @jpotterdilf @guardians-ofthe-lastyoungkilljoy @idkiwantchocolatee @monte-carlando @bigdiccricc @organasith @anthonykatebridgerton @icecoldtires
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 one shot#formula 1#formula one#pierre gasly#pierre gasly x reader#daniel ricciardo#lando norris#f1
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Episode Three: Bright Light, Shine through the Darkness
Okay, let's try this whole meta thing.
Bright Light, Shine through the Darkness was the episode where I realised I was in some deep trouble. I was aware of Trigun, but never really got around to looking into it until this ep was airing, and the two episodes before were, how can I say, everything I'd been lead to expect? Meryl is so angry and kind and Rosa so cool, and of course to look upon Vash is to adore him, precious darling boy. But I was still waiting for the hook, the reason to continue. Episode three, then: the one where the series finally begins. It's done saluting the work of the past and pivots to the story it's here to tell.
And I had no inkling it would be a story of such deliberate, implacable terror. It opens by telling you a storm is coming, but given that in minutes people are dying by land mines and remote drones, you'd think the storm was already here. Blood splashes! Meryl nearly gets her dumb ass flattened! E.G.'s motives aren't the kind receptive to Vash's forgiveness and whoo boy, for a moment you almost believe Vash will withdraw it. But Meryl turns it around (waaah she's so brave, she and Vash and Roberto made such a good team) and it seems the next challenge will be talking the elder Nebraska out of revenge, because anyone will pick up a gun when their loved ones are killed.
Then the piano rings out, right as Nebraska demands to know whose side Vash is on. It's a haunting, wistful tune and the score fell silent for quite a while first, which makes the notes even more out-of-place. The colour has been drained, everything is shrouded with smoke, and the cinematography has shrunk to mid shots and close-ups. Vash stands there in paralysed in fear for over ten seconds. You forget, in what follows, that we were given fair warning.
Nai was present in the opening scene, and Knives stated his intentions clearly enough at the end of the first episode. We saw this fuse being lit and the detonation still comes as a surprise. Not to mention Knives's influence is felt absolutely everywhere once you know to look for it – the bounty and the threats it inevitably attracts, the military police (and boy do I have thoughts on them, but it's only the final episode that'll come back), even the environment, the insects and birds. Tonis's little cage of buddies that Vash promised he would keep safe! Nothing hasn't felt Knives's fingertips - playing, pushing, manipulating.
Vash has to accept at the end of the episode that there was no longer any way he could avoid facing his brother, not if he wanted the people around him to be safe. While I don't think Knives was out to get Vash on this particular trip, I think he's just fine with Vash believing that's why he was there. Let him think it really is his presence, his “bad luck” that led to this destruction.
It's at least consolation to know Gofsef and his father are still alive at the end, though they're not in the best shape. I missed it the first time. But my God, poor Rosa. Poor Tonis. We never get that manga bit where Vash explains that if he took a life, Rem would never forgive him, but we don't really need to after that.
And when it took time out of Vash's self recriminating angst to show us Meryl also feels responsible, I sat up. She'd been so directly driving the plot so far, but I hardly dared hope for more. It was oddly reassuring.
All in all, fantastic episode, and I haven't even talked about the strongest portions. I hope everyone who worked on it is proud of themselves. I couldn't have asked for better. I'll close on what might have been my favourite moment (and by that I mean for me the most emotionally devastating): Vash crying as he flees the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, pulling blood-spattered Rosa after him.
#tristampparty#trigun stampede#trigun meta#meta: tristampparty episodes#yeah sorry idk i can't come up with funny tags for this#haven't been here long enough#it just#wow#edit jeebus creebus how obvious is it that my last long form fandom engagement was in the livejournal days#it’s not the dash-eating monstrosity of before#i fuckign love this show do you realise#halp
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▶️ 돼끼 GYM (DWAEKKI GYM) #1 & #2 | [SKZ-CODE] EP.29 & EP.30
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k
♡taglist: @g4m3girl , @smh-anon , @neohyxn , @stealanity
《 ♡ 》
[ xxx ] - editors' notes
♡ intro
Changbin tries to motivate the members to come in. Chichi is standing next to Hyunjin, making a little ponytail. „But can we not come at all?!" She exclaims laughing. [ members really want to go home! ]
Changbin hugs the members in greeting, then pre-checking the condition of their bodies. When he hugs Chichi, he pulls away surprised.
"What? Her grip is really strong! I hardly felt the difference between her and Bang Chan!”
Chichi smiles embarrassed, the editors add a cute teddy bear sound. [ Bang Chan Junior?! ]
It's time to measure members’ biceps. Changbin wraps the measure around Ichi's arm.
"What?"
"What?" The other members immediately stand by, interrupting the previous activities. Ichi looks surprised too.
"37cm."
Han and Felix sit down slowly. "How much?!"
"How is that even possible?!"
Chichi tilts her head like a listening puppy. "I exercise too!" [ the members never cease to surprise each other ]
Han doesn't believe it and for the rest of the measurement he stands with Chichi in the background comparing their shoulders, the girl continuing to giggle, covering her face.
♡ InBody Test
Changbin holds Chichi's results in hands.
"She really is made of muscles." Chan says, looking over Changbin's shoulder. Changbin nods.
"But there could be more body fat though."
"Then feed me better!" She exclaimed at once as a joke.
"I should start cooking for you then." Minho says and Felix nods.
„Me too.” [ CHICHI, the most spoiled fake maknae ]
♡ Flexibility Test
"Chichi gets banned from this at start!" Han exclaimed, pointing accusingly at her. "Who would win against past ballerina?!"
"Is it my fault?!" She called out in reply as she stood up and she and Han pretend to start a fight. Felix grabs her by the arms and pulls her away, laughing.
"It's Chichi who will be the judge then!" Changbin called. [ a worthy successor to coach dwaekki! ]
"But let her judge by doing the split anyway!" Said Minho, and Chichi gave him a terrified look. "Let her suffer with us!" [ one for all, all for one… ]
So, Chichi watched members’ matches all the while doing splits on the floor. Seungmin walked over to her and patted her head.
"Don't worry. You were always short anyway." [ dwaekki gym or chichi roast? ]
♡ Planks
Minho took several breaks during it, so he unofficially failed the task. Of course, he couldn't be alone in this. When Chichi was doing an exercise with Hyunjin, Minho sat on her and she fell to the floor in surprise, and she started to hit the floor as a sign that she was giving up. [ someone save this baby tiger... ] / [ "why is everyone bullying me today?!" ]
Fortunately, both were great at jumping rope, so further sabotage was unnecessary.
While Han is jumping (or trying to) on a rope, Chichi and Seungmin in the background are trying to get on one of the machines (which of course could not be physically climbed, but who will stop them?). During one of the close-ups of Jisung, a loud bang is heard in the background. In the next shot, Chichi and Seungmin are already sitting with the others, next to each other, holding back their laugh.
♡ Beginner or Advanced?
Chichi was placed in the Advanced group even though Minho, Hyunjin and Jeongin were in favor of putting her in the Beginner group. [ bullying Chichi continues… ]
♡ Beginner Level Training
As Seungmin, Changbin, and Felix do demonstrative squats, Chichi sits down with Hyunjin on one of the treadmills behind them.
"This is a better view than in a fruit shop!" She exclaimed in delight, Hyunjin laughs loudly and claps. [ what is she talking about? are butts like watermelons or melons? too many questions... ]
Chichi watches Minho and tries to do a squat, deliberately falling to the floor in the process.
"Coach, can you help me too?" She asks, pouting out her lower lip pleadingly.
"You don't need help!" Changbin called, gesticulating. "We all know you don't need help! You don't even belong to this group, get out!”
Chichi lowers her head pretending to be sad and leaves the room. [ failing to get attention from the coach ]
* EP.30 *
Han and Chichi dance tango in the background, doing a million unnecessary pirouettes. Changbin speaks about each member.
"Chichi."
Chichi immediately runs over and stands to attention, pretending that she wasn't fooling around earlier at all.
"Chichi exercises regularly, right?"
"Right."
"And she trained regularly in the past as well, right?"
"Right."
"That's why you should all follow her as example."
The editors used the teddy bear sound again as Chichi smiles sheepishly, puffing out her cheeks slightly. Han and Jeongin pretend to have a cough, in the intervals of which "nerd" and "teacher's pet" is heard.
♡ Bench Press
Chichi massages Jeongin in the background as soon as he finishes his barbell warm-up, then unfazed, she does hers. When after the warm-up it was time for real weights, Chichi lay down on the bench, pouting and puffing her cheeks slightly in thought.
"60kg? 60kg…”
"Too much?" Chan asked immediately.
"Not at all!" she laughed. [ don't underestimate the spirit of the tiger! ]
Changbin glances at Chan, then back at her.
"80kg?"
"Mhm. Let's make it 80kg."
So Chan adds weights and stands behind the bench where her head was to belay her while Changbin stood over her with his legs spread apart, with her lying on the bench between his legs. Chichi flushed her cheeks, laughing nervously.
"Yeah, I feel much safer now!"
Changbin lowered his head immediately, his blush and small cute smile were not visible on the camera.
♡ Deadlifting
"I do not like this." Chichi laughs lightly as she stands next to Jeongin and rubs her wrists. "It's a bit too boring for me."
After advices from Felix, it was her turn. She took the right position and moved her eyebrows significantly towards Chan, who immediately understood what was going on, with a smile. He added weights again and in this exercise Chichi also lifted 80kg. Changbin belayed her while standing behind her, but he looked away from time to time, pressing his lips into a thin line [ even coach dwaekki was speechless? but why? ]
♡ Squats
"I love squats." Chichi starts jumping in place like a rabbit. "That was my specialty!" She exclaims happily, the editors put a squeaking sound under her jumps [ advanced group seems a bit livelier! ]
Chichi walks over to the barbell and assumes the position, glancing behind her back at the other members. "What? Won't you cover my butt?!"
"No."
"No. There is no need." Han announced and along with Jeongin and Chan they sat down behind her to get a better view. [ Stray Perverts? ]
♡ Eating & Drinking
Changbin hands a shake to Seungmin and Chichi sitting next to him. After unwrapping her gym gifts, she and Han play volleyball in the background with a massage ball [ some kids have short attention spans... ]
"My New Year goal?" Chichi thinks for a moment. “I would love to get back into doing barbell squats. I forgot how much joy it gives me. I focused on other exercises and neglected them a bit. I would like to go back to them and beat my previous record of 95 kg.”
"I'll help you." Changbin replied as soon as Chichi finished speaking.
Chichi covers her face with her hair immedietely [ coach dwaekki, always ready to help! ]
《 ♡ 》
#oc-ommunity#kpop addition#stray kids 9th member#kpop added member#kpop oc#stray kids oc#idol oc#stray kids female oc#stray kids added member#stray kids addition#stray kids female addition#kpop fake member#fake skz code
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i looovveee that even though we have a larger cast of characters now it doesnt feel like any of them have to fight for screen time
like i was afraid we were hardly going to get any zane screen time since everyone was splitting up to look for the cores and based on how little time he had in part 1, but we ended up getting couple episodes that heavily involved him and mr frohicky while also balancing the other povs like with kai n wyldfyre and nya and sora respectively
even little moments with the duos amidst the episodes felt like just enough time to show off what theyre currently doing, even as a way to slow things down momentarily like with the kai wyldfyre and heatwave scenes
dragons rising going back to the old 22 minute format helps SO much because i wholly believe it wouldnt be nearly as well written and paced if it had stuck with the 11 minute eps like with the wildbrain era episodes where they'd have to prioritize certain things over others in order to progress the overall plot
i genuinely havent felt this much fun and excitement watching new episodes since i first watched the oni trilogy last year, i cant tell you how insanely happy it makes me how well DR is made and how much care is going into each of the characters both old and new
idk i havent watched very much of the wildbrain eps but from what i have scene and read based on other peoples general opinions on those seasons it makes me happy seeing everyone excited for DR and genuinely enjoying it
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hey, i'm new to cr fandom and wasn't there when c2 was airing, may i ask out of curiosity what was the fandom's problem with its ending?
i want to start by saying this post is meant as a personal memory and not an incitement of any discourse. i do not want a lot of asks or replies or anything about this if i can help it. i would also politely ask that no one reblog this as i really just. dont want attention about this when ive discussed it to death on twitter. i also apologize for not having screenshots but i truly cannot bring myself to wade through that again. it was bad enough i still have nightmares about it.
basically, about 3 eps before c2's end, matt clarified on twitter the campaign was coming to a close, and that. did not go well. you see, folk (myself included, though i wasnt part of the following clown show) were very sure c2 would continue a while. it felt unfinished as the empire/trent had to be taken down, and for some of us ludinus was clearly the big bad, etc. so this was incredibly jarring to a lot of folk. and with that came anger. a lot of critique came down to fear of things being rushed, a lack of closure, claims of extreme neoliberialism due to not taking down the empire (i could write an essay on and cite multiple leftist activists who have stated c2 is truthful to the activist tale, not neoliberalism, and also how c3 deconstructs beau & caleb's actions, but everyone is allowed to have their own opinion on it), and that if shadowgast did not fuck in this short timespan the fans were going to kill liam & matt. and threats of killing were the least of what ensued. im just gonna put a tw here for discussion of extreme harrassment and even threat of necrophilia/rape:
people were. atrocious. beyond atrocious. know why 4sd/a lot of q&a events of theirs for a while had no fan questions? partially bc fans were frankly terrible at asking non-ship questions on talks machina, but mainly because folk FILLED their inboxes with insults (and a twitter account was made of screenshots bragging about it) that only the crew would get to filter out, not the cast. know why dani was terrified to show her face on 4sd for a bit? c2 fans would not let up on how it was her cishet fault fjorjester happened. people thought the solution to alleged neoliberalism was to therefore @ travis saying they would defile his veteran fathers corpse. if there was any solid discussion critiquing c2 happening, it was so drowned that actors who had nothing to do with the show told cr fans to stay away if that was how they treated their favorite creators wanting a break. it really didnt help that a certain disgraced talks machina host was firing potshots on twitter when the cast seemed to be just trying to take it all in, so more discourse was kicked up from him. in general besides all of that, you had the average death & even a few rape threats you would expect from the pits of fan entitlement. the way they were hardly the most notable of the insults hurled their way still rattles the mind. and thats just what i saw. my friends have claimed to have seen worse, but if we can help it we dont discuss it in detail, it's that bad. like i said, any idea of an actual conversation about c2 and how someone felt about it from an analysis perspective was not even a drop in the bucket; there was no actual discourse but rather spitting hatred pouring over that mistook personal grievances for excuses to mistreat quite literally anyone around them who didnt agree that threatening to defile someone was funny bittersweet revenge.
the thing is, after the c2 finale happened? i mean, a lot of folk didnt originally like it (i think it's generally pretty well liked now, and i enjoy it), but it wrapped up a lot of issues pretty well. all that terror & terrorizing over a fictional story was really for nothing. and even if it had ended undebateably badly did anything warrant that fallout?
there are of course a few other factors that seperate cast from fandom now. laura also got innumerable threats from tlou fans for playing some antagonist character, twitter is a dysfunctional shithole, and it's just rational the more popular you get to not be buddy-buddy with fans. but that was. a Time, for sure. c3 is a decent campaign but im far from the first person to note that many of its traits are set in trying to find vox machina's fixed story beats so no story beat is left "unturned" and being as un-m9-like as possible, even when they love the m9. a lot of the worst m9 fans now who harrass other campaign enjoyers and lament c2 being "an unloved middle child" are folk who never left the bitterness they held in that time. for as much discourse as c3 has kicked up i really dont think any of it compares to the sheer scale of what happened late may 2021, and im hoping with all my heart it never does reach that level ever again (i think c3 has a slightly smaller (at least online) fanbase compared to c2, and isnt marked by a pandemic hiatus, so hopefully that means something).
i hope i answered your question. i really hate remembering this time but sometimes i think it should be remembered so folk know what the cost of extreme parasociality is. the distance the cast has from fans now is not only earned but maybe should have always been there, so things never evolved to that extremity. but now it's done and gone. i envy people who watch cr on their own merits and didn't get sucked into twitter at the time; it has been fascinating watching folk say they love the travelercon/aeor arcs and the ending. rewatching later c2 really emphasizes how many complaints hinged on extremely online & parasocial headspaces - you definitely wont hear anyone nowadays say liam is a biphobic cishet abusing matt by not making caleb kiss essek yet. i hope new fans have a better time than we did. oh - and get off twitter.
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Well, you know what - I am absolutely exhausted now. That's the thing about double Casualty nights. I went off them quite a while ago because it gives me a lot to talk about afterward, making typing up my thoughts take longer, and because while I like to think I have a good enough attention span it can only last so long. Also I was more triggered by the eps than I thought I'd be (my fault though, I misjudged how I'd feel).
Yet! I am glad. We went two entire eps without Faith turning up at all. My second-least fave, Iain, was there but primarily playing the only role I like him in: Jacob's friend who tries to look out for him. And thus, even he was likeable tonight.
And of course, Jacob is finally, finally getting focus again!! It's been long enough.
But before I get into all of that, thoughts on ep 1:
Rash's storyline was... well, it's very intense. A lot more so than I would have expected. His whole breakdown about everything being broken was incredibly sad to see. Poor, poor Rash.
I didn't think this would lead to him leaving but I'm not sure now, I could easily see this being an exit story. I hope not - though, on the other hand I want him to be happy, enough that if he has to leave for that I'd go along with it.
Neet Mohan was brilliant. He's one of Casualty's best when he gets the chance to be. I'm pleased it seems the show is finally acknowledging that, even if it means Rash getting a sad storyline for now. Also, I tend to like an ep that partially revolves around a character being in therapy. I hope we get one for Jacob eventually.
I'm... intrigued by Patrick. I really don't know what to make of him, though I don't think I'm meant to. He's definitely an unknown quantity of sorts so far. I thought he'd remind me a lot of Henrik and he does, albeit mostly in different ways than Max did. Patrick makes me think of early Henrik. The grumpy, not exactly nice new man in charge who just wants everyone to focus on their work, with just the tiniest hint of a gentler side beyond all the rudeness. The scene where he talked about Rash being like him, however, was not very Henrik of him. I don't think early Henrik would ever have opened up even that much.
I continue to like Tariq as a character so far. I enjoy his dynamic with Rash a lot, still. Their borderline-brotherly dynamic is very interesting. And I have to say, he was cast really well - he feels like such a believable cousin for Rash!
Ngozi continues to be great, as well. I adore her.
I thought the way this ep depicted how busy the department was was incredibly well done. I don't have much more to say there, but I wanted to point it out.
And as for the second ep:
I'd almost forgotten just how good Charles Venn is when he gets to do dramatic acting! Not that I don't enjoy the comedy/lighthearted stuff too, but there's been hardly any of that recently either - it's just felt like nothing but "Iain, I am now going to prop up your storyline because you're not interesting enough to carry it alone, I hope you don't mind". But he got to be brilliant again tonight.
And Jacob gets the focus he deserves. It's about time Blake came up again! I wonder what's going on with Blake, he did sound very upset. And I wonder what Elle is doing. I hope she doesn't get forgotten.
Jacob's line about how him and Blake haven't really talked for a while was very intriguing. I'm glad him being basically never acknowledged for like, forever is seemingly being incorporated into the storyline rather than glossed over.
Nicole is an excellent character so far. I love her.
Rida was fantastic tonight. Incredible acting from Sarah Seggari! Some very upsetting moments, undeniably, but the writing and performance were pitch-perfect. Wow. She's amazing.
Siobhan is wonderful. I've definitely come around to her.
Anyway, that's most of what I can think of to say about tonight but I'm sure I've left a lot out that I can't remember at the moment. Basically, however, the TL;DR version of all this is: I love Jacob.
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Bake Me Please ep 3 instant reaction
(Semi-inspired (okay, okay, blatantly inspired) by @bengiyo but with at least 40% less smarts than his posts). This is a quick riff and is certain to be proven at least somewhat wrong by subsequent episodes.
Atom and Oab's mom is hardly giving Atom a reason to shape up. Try acting more like a coach than a tyrant and see if you get different results, madam.
Which reminds me of something I've been wondering: what's the ownership arrangement? Is it all her money? Who's got equity and who's merely an employee?
Grandma has both Shin and Peach clocked. Probably had them shipped the moment Peach came out to her. ("Oh, I know just the nice young man for him to take care of!")
Oab has a thing for Shin! And Guy is there in his corner; aww.
Shin's got a fancy place. Where'd the money come from? He's an orphan so how long has the business been going for him to make that much?
Peach's love language is taking care of people. But he's not a wimp.
Shin's love language is (so far) nonexistent. He needs to develop one.
Towel drop? Tsk, tsk, Peach. A gentleman should at least pretend to not look. (Although they played the elephant sound…so maybe it's that impressive.)
Shin. Shin. "Help me shower" isn't flirting, it's foreplay.
Wait wait wait a second: does GUY have a thing for Shin too?
Guy comforting Peach by touching his hair is…pretty forward if I understand Thai cultural norms about touching the hair of other adults. (Which I may not. Feel free to correct me.)
GUY. NOT COOL. Quitting on the same day is a GIANT fuck you. Also, letting them find out from the competitor's social media instead of telling them yourself? You didn't discuss it beforehand with your business partners, you aren't giving them an opportunity to change your mind, and you even act like Shin has no reason to be upset? I were Shin, I would have told him to get his ass out the door too. I might have gotten over myself later but this is just too much to be sensible about in real time.
Side note: Wondering whether to read Guy's behavior as more "I didn't even get a chance to pursue him and he's finally opening up for this twink so I'm outta here."
Another side note. Guess Guy doesn't have an ownership stake; he's just an employee.
Shin and Peach's getting together scene felt a bit rushed. A kiss and then they're at Shin's in bed and then it's back to work? I'm not saying I expected an extended sex scene but this didn't have the impact it should have.
ALSO:
There seems to be a lot of unspoken/unrequited crushing going on here. So far I count
Oab -> Shin definite and unrequited
Shin -> Peach definite and realized this episode
Peach -> Shin definite and realized this episode
Guy -> Shin maybe
Guy -> Peach maybe
Atom, poor lamb, seems to have nobody. Plenty of episodes left, though. Rooting for ya, kiddo!
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this ep (11) is my favorite episode, and i feel like i won't be watching it again anytime soon cause it has so much emotional baggage that i cried for basically the whole episode but hands down the best episode
there are so many things that i wanted to say, so many feelings that i feel that were not explicitly said but that were put there you know, when people love and believe on what they're doing we have this kinda of masterpiece
BUT, let's go to my feelings throughout the episode not in order of course
it hurt so much when win said that sound would not understand their situation because he just joined the band, it hurt so much because he diminished all the relationship and bond that the sound created with the band and i'm sure he felt really bad about it as well
when the boys fought and started apologizing, that there it wasn't just them fighting and apologizing, it's much deeper and the fact that they understand each other like that, without much more than an "i'm sorry" this hardly happens in relationships other than a very strong friendship (at least in my experiences with friendships)
when por was waiting for the boys and phat appeared and he was so happy but then phat said that the band was already over and por started to cry oh god i cried so much
but it hurt so much when win said they lost because of gun, like gun is the one who was trying hardest and always trying to be a good leader, and also when win said that all that gun do is "stop fights" all I can think was "oh well he wouldn't have to stop fights all the time if YOU were a little calmer and you know breathe a little" oh god this man was testing my patience in that moment
gun's relationship with his mother is so beautiful, gun asking if his dad would be disappointed in him and her asking him the same thing, i broke down in tears
and when she said "if we tried our best, there's nothing to regret." oh my god i cried so much
tiw you are brave wow! "i want to eat you"???? 😳😳😳
YAK I LOVE LOVE YOU SO MUCH!
AND! next week we gonna have kajorn being the most annoying human being in existence 😀 i swear to God I want to kill this boy
and i support any kind of violence from tinn against their asshole teacher
there's not even half of what i wanted to talk about but what a good episode!
#tiwpor IS REAL#my school president#my school president the series#msp#ford arun#fourth nattawat#mark pakin#gemini norawit#geminifourth#tiwpor#prom theepakon#captain passatorn#winny thanawin#satang kittiphop#satangwinny#strawberryz thoughtz#strawberryfilmz watch msp
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i have watched bdubs and scar and so im gonna talk abt SL again like i did before. obvs spoilers!
i keep my posts pretty meta/only about the game, its mechanics, balance etc so i have no bias on players own actions. but i do want to talk about players and the final moments for a minute here!
obvs i like bdubs a lot and hes been very good at getting to almost the finals in all the series. hope ppl realize that more. if he had more hearts like scar did im sure he could of have gotten further too. etho's ep isnt out but i saw him die in scar's and scar's ep was wild for sure. i mean damn, there was hardly a way etho could have escaped scar when he landed right on top of him, insane. obvs i dont have a view on the others i havent watched but it was interesting to see how they ganged up in this series for the end. scar winning made me happy too, hes a really good player!!
bbut onto the gameplay. i dont wanna repeat myself so im kinda using this as an overall conclusion + specific thoughts about the finale.
its been established clearly that mods assign specific tasks to people at times. and the warden/wither + bogey were not something i enjoyed. this season felt way too "directed" as it went on... and i also think the tasks ability to grant you so much good stuff (a LOT of hearts) is what kept everyone out of being red so easily! which is probably why they did the bogey zombies. which is really just poor balance that no one clearly tested (i recall grian implying before that they dont really test anything but dont quote me on that). maybe a way to have improved that would have been reds were the only ones to gain hearts, and yellow/greens could not. i knew from the start that the heart giving mechanics this season were kind of pointless or overpowered. gifting one heart? really...? that doesnt add up to much of anything in the long run imo unless you manage to get hearts from multiple people. and then on top of that you get hearts back from the secret keeper too. i would have loved if this season was simply "no regen and thats it!" like a sorta UHC deal where you only can heal with specific items (and not 30 hearts prob? bc i understand the tasks were kind of a way to possibly make them die).
on big forced tasks it only made sense with this episode, since everyone is red, so i dont mind that. but again.... they had to force this to happen which is annoying to me. also in terms of balance i really wished they bring back strict rules on enchantments because that also gets frustrating to watch. but perhaps i just like fairness in combat due to watching so much UHC, which also is a death game.
the other issues i had were with reds and red tasks. as pointed out they forced reds in the previous sessions but no one had any time to do red tasks?? and admittedly it was kind of boring bc people couldnt interact about it without failing. but they could not team up properly and i think that is what red life is all about. all the reds coming together because they *need* to face yellows and greens, and hunt people down. but instead the few reds there had to be alone to do their traps, another social issue with this series where tasks often pulled people away from others and left them with videos where they were very alone. there being no space for greens and yellows to exist and get hunted is something i think is great in previous seasons too and it just didnt happen. all that getting forced in that one session just didnt flow well to me.
really even trying to look back at episodes, i cant recall any notable interactions between people i enjoyed minus some brief pauses when they were traveling to do their tasks. there just wasnt a lot of typical socializing! and thats what i didnt like with this series. this plus the balance issues of lives just made this series feel messy, and the length of the episodes due to tasks could be kind of boring if the task was boring or even felt too stressful to force them into places where they could just die (these kinds of dangerous tasks given to greens or yellows felt unfair, as if it was trying to force them to die, and as a viewer i wouldnt want the game make my fave die!).
and as i mentioned in a different post, the lack of fixing some issues in multiple seasons is wild to me. this season faced the same issue as limlife where deaths were not in chat. the episode after, they fixed it (still with some bugs). and then it happened again last session.... and they didnt fix it! this is also annoying bc people dont react to the deaths at all which you kind of wanna see you know? actually im not even sure why they still did it this way. i imagined the clock running out made it more complicated for the system of fying to work. but why this season....? seemed like pretty forward deaths. idk the tech side, but they had 3 solid lives like all the other season, and there were never issues with the death messages happening at all.
but anyways. theres multiple parts of this i mentioned above that just made this gimmick feel so messy and unbalanced, and sometimes not super interesting to watch. it was way too complicated some times. i know theyll likely never do a repeat of the old versions but man idk if i cant find myself liking future seasons if they start stacking so much on top of what is a simple concept. it has started to feel like the three lives havent mattered at all/arent really the focus-- the anxiety of having three times. and the stakes become less and less due to some of these new gimmicks (the ability to gain lives in so many easy ways- limlife and secret life- is why imo) makes death feel less of a problem especially when we know how buddy buddy everyone is now. people need to be limited like before, and be more anxious. 3L, LL, and DL had people quickly establishing their friends bc they knew right from the get go that the series really depended on them being alive and nothing else. the only focus was to stay alive and not die. DL was where ppl kinda chilled a bit on alliances bc they knew each other more but, death was still right around the door with health being tied, it still brought a similar kind of anxiety for players.
i do hope people like grian can recognize these issues behind the scenes bc genuine critique for this series/season is important. like i hope they dont brush off the fact "hall monitors" were an issue-- they can ignore them openly in their videos.... but there is a reason why its a problem that started at all. the concept was way too subjective and hard to judge! so id hate for them to decide "eh, lets not listen to them, im gonna keep doing this and not consider the issue for a new season" right? and hour long episodes? thats crazy, and i dont think it was good for a lot of cc imo, because it made me way less likely to watch or even finish others' episodes. i hope that makes sense... stakes need to be raised, and i think limlife still achieved that to some degree because time was still very sensitive and risky to take. but then SL comes in bringing way too many things that keep them alive far too easily, leaving very little concern as long as they got their task in.
and last thing is from the outside pov i get concerned about this season happening only 6 months after the last one. because that would very very easily cause a burn out/inability to make more gimmicks real quick. i find this particularly odd bc this season too place through multiple holidays...! not sure if they thought this one through very well. considering how much limlife changed things in a way that was a bit more complicated, and then have SL with even more going on.... id just be worried about how much new stuff would even be made after this.
before this season started i was thinking to myself that i would be fine if this was the last one (it was speculation off some posting 3L compilations that was being me think itd be 'over' bc that was the first season). and truly i would be fine if they stopped forever for for a long time. i dont want to start disliking this series if they keep going in this direction... i will ALWAYS enjoy seeing these people play together and it will no doubt keep me watching but, i would hope that i will enjoy what they do for the next seasons and not fall down this path of convoluted, unbalanced and complicated concepts.
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AN ~ Version 1 of about 16 trillion WIPS I have of Ed and Izzy finally facing each other again. Did I write 1500wd and technically not use the prompt phrase? Yes I did, but in my defense I'm haunted by It's not your fault you're broken, you were just trying to do your job.
For @fictober-event’s Fictober 2023 prompt: “It's not your fault." Spoilers up to Ep 6, in which it's theoretically based.
Masterpost of my Fictober OFMD fics
Fandom: Our Flag Means Death
Characters/Relationships: Ed Teach, Izzy Hands.
Tags: Canon Typical Violence, References to Suicidal Ideation and associated mutually-destructive stuff that went down in the early eps. Angst with a Hopeful Ending and hopefully healing vibes.
Try
Ed recognises the voice before he turns the corner. It’s so familiar and beautiful and missed, his heart clenches. Because Izzy doesn’t sing. Not the Izzy he knows. Not anymore. And yet.
His feet carry him forward like they haven’t caught on that this is a stupid idea.
The bell around his neck announces him and he can hardly stand to hear the song strangle itself in Izzy’s throat. If there was a dance in his step it’s gone now. Izzy stops and stares at him for a long, miserable, terrifying moment.
“Edward,” he croaks.
In the silence, one can hear the other shoe drop.
“Izzy. I think we need to talk.”
-
Stede has the good sense, and the sense of drama, to usher the rest of the crew below deck. The abandoned party makes for a fittingly morbid setting; its rainbow lanterns bobbing in the breeze, beautiful food and rich aromas doing little to drown out the rotting wound they’re about to rip open. Neither of them speak for a long time. There’s too much to say.
Eventually, Izzy steps down off the little dias they’ve been calling a stage. He ignores Ed as much as possible, and sets about cleaning up instead. He marches to the nearest table and begins scraping all the food scraps onto one plate. Now that they’ve gone and ruined the mood, he might as well. But he feels Ed’s eyes on him, knows that stupid bell is swaying in the breeze a micron away from tinkling as he only moves just enough to watch Izzy. The heat pricks the back of his neck until he can’t stand it anymore.
“You’re the one who wants to talk, Edward. I’m fine.”
“Sure. You look fine.”
“I was, ‘til you got here.”
It hurts, but Ed swallows. He did walk right into that one. But it’s not the uncharacteristically camp make-up or the… golden… unicorn leg apparently? … that’s got Ed worried. It’s the tension in his shoulders, his gaunt face. The way that he carries himself around Ed - even though he’s well out of arms’ reach - with an air of hesitation, like he’s terrified he’ll be suckerpunched at any given moment and is trying desperately not to show it.
I wasn’t laughing, it reminds him. I was screaming.
He remembers the sound of the bullet too. He remembers thinking Izzy was dead and gone. He’d hardly felt a thing at the time, but looking back he knew it would destroy him. It should destroy him. That’s what it should feel like, to have somebody so close to you for so long and in so many ways that losing them feels like -
Well, like losing a limb. Isn’t that how the saying goes?
But his traitorous fucking tongue refuses to form fucking words, at least not ones that mean anything, so all he can do is dare step a little closer. He reaches out his arm - slowly, hesitantly, - and he watches Izzy equally slowly close a fist around the handle of one of the butter knives he’s packing away. So he stops. Izzy’s fingers uncurl, but Ed’s pretty sure he’d rather have been stabbed. It hurts, everything hurts.
“It’s getting late,” Izzy says at last. “Think I’ll call it a night, actually.”
“Izzy. Please.” The words barely make it past the lump in his throat. If they don’t push through it now, they might never, and that’s just- well, that’s just not an option.
“Are you going to order me to stay?”
“No. I’m not your Captain anymore.”
Ed wishes he could be offended at the implication that he’d ever use his position in such a way, but he definitely would. He definitely has. And maybe, just maybe, he’s finally come close enough to admitting that for one of the worst people on God’s Green Earth at apologies, because Izzy finally stops doing busywork and looks at him. Really looks at him, like he’s trying to figure out the answer to his own question. What am I, to you?
“Still on probation, then?” he asks instead.
“Oh. Yeah.” Ed flicks the bell at his neck. “Crew says the vote has to be unanimous. So.”
“So you need me to tick the last box on your little form.”
“Oh fuck off, you brought it up, not me.” Ed bites his tongue. All this is going to do is get them riled up until they strangle each other. He tries to channel his crash course in healthy emotional expression and drag himself back on track. He takes a deep breath. “What I mean is. You’ve got a lot of them going to bat for you, Iz. They really care about how you feel about- about all this. You should be proud. I know I am.”
Izzy blinks. “What?”
Ed plays back what he just said. Is he finally making the words go?
“I am… proud of you,” he repeats. Tears spring to his eyes and he feels a bit sick and overwhelmed but there it is, he said it. “And grateful. I really am. I don’t know what I would have done if you’d really- I mean if you hadn’t-”
He swallows. And maybe it’s because he’s still trying to spare Ed or maybe it’s because Izzy is allergic to the full spectrum of human emotion or maybe it’s because the memory is swirling around them like the storm did and they can both taste the salt water in the air but Izzy cuts him off.
“I was just doing my job.”
“Your boss fucking sucks then.”
He gets a tearful snort out of Izzy for that one.
“Yeah, well. Pretty sure I started it.”
And maybe it’s good they’ve been making a point of avoiding each other since they got back on board the Revenge. Maybe they’re… ready for something. (Please. Please let them be ready.)
Ed waits with bated breath as Izzy looks away, touches his finger to his eyes in case he’s been crying, and deliberates. Ed watches, wishing, pleading, contemplating falling to the deck and fucking praying that a whip crack of vicious vengeance isn’t going to come for him. Once upon a time - hell, even this morning - he would have offered the man his pistol to shoot him back. It’s the pirate way of doing things, an eye for an eye, and maybe it’s not the healthiest or whatever but he’ll take it if it means making things square with Izzy. He's already got a bad knee, what’s a little more metal crunching around in there?
The silence lasts so long it itches under his skin. It burns the tip of his tongue and he’s on the verge of opening his mouth to suggest that the man fucking shoots him (again) after all, when Izzy finally speaks.
“Well,” he announces. “If we’re doing this, I’m going to need a drink.”
Speaking of knees, they almost give way beneath him.
“Amen to that.”
-
There’s a lot to untangle; so much that if they had the time-bending powers of the gravy basket they might still have not got through it all. But it’s progress, and the two of them end up lying close on the deck with their hair and limbs tossed every which way and a red glow to their cheeks that betrays how much they’ve imbibed. They’ve cried. They’ve laughed, frankly a surprising amount. They’ve almost called it quits and stormed out a half a dozen times each. Yet they’ve both stayed, and they’ve both let those walls down further than they have in years. The wound they’ve been letting fester isn’t healed. It’s a long way from that. But it’s been cleaned and wrapped in new bandages and as the morning light starts to make its way across their faces, there’s a gentleness to the ache in their chests.
Ed sighs.
“Be honest, Iz,” he prompts. “Do you think there’s a version of us where we don’t wind up killing each other?”
Izzy frowns, struggling to turn his fuzzy mind to the subject without getting bogged down again in I had a dream where you killed me and Edward better watch his fucking step and the Spanish and the English and the way their downward spirals have been happening harder and faster lately. Rising sun be damned, it’s hard to have hope in the face of that.
“I don’t know,” he confesses.
Ed swallows. It’s hard to take. But he said to be honest, and they’re being honest in a new way now. In a new old way that reminds him of the way things were before, somehow. It’s like a light at the end of the tunnel, shining into the dark sea. Like the morning breaking over them. The sun is warm, and it reminds him of the things that are worth holding onto.
“Do you think-” he asks, “d’you think we could try?”
“Stranger things have happened.”
“Like Izzy Hands stone-cold-sober letting someone put glitter on his face?”
With a cheeky, if hesitant, hopeful smile, Ed glances over at Izzy the best he can at this angle. Izzy, best he can too, angles his chin to meet Ed’s eyes, and smiles back.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Like that.”
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prompt for garashir: garashir first kiss happening at an unlikely time. this can be whatever that means to you (perhaps it’s during a scenario where a kiss/first kiss would be unlikely, perhaps it’s just kind of a surprise to one or both of them, perhaps it’s during an ep or a scene from an ep that isn’t a usual backdrop for garashir getting together fics… or any other way you want to interpret this prompt)
Hiya anon, you'll be happy to know you are officially responsible for my first foray into Garashir, and also my first ever slash fic.
I wanted to pick the most ridiculous episode possible to set this to, so here we go, Garashir first kiss during 'Who Mourns for Morn' (The Magnificent Ferengi was a close second but I couldn't figure out how to do it)
Enjoy :)
One Way to Mourn (AO3)
“So Keep it warm, for Morn,” said Quark solemnly, pulling out the stool and gesturing to a Bajoran who looked both proud and unnerved to have been chosen for the honor. The man sat down gingerly to a small, somewhat subdued round of applause, and just like that the formalities were over, and the conversation bubbled back up into a respectful buzz that filled the bar.
“I just can’t believe he’s gone,” said Jadzia for what must have been the tenth time today.
“I know,” sighed Keiko, who’d appeared at Miles’ elbow partway through Quark’s speech, “It’s amazing how many people are here though, isn’t it? I swear I’ve never even seen some of them before!”
“Morn did have a certain… magnetism,” said Jadzia, with a twinkle in her eye that wasn’t lost on Worf, who scowled and huffed, but mercifully said nothing.
“That he did,” said Miles.
For Julian’s part, Morn had been less of a magnet than a much needed constant fixture on this bustling melting pot of a station, but his absence somehow felt like the straw that broke the camel’s back in this seemingly endless war. Once, a million years ago, Quark had said; ‘when Morn leaves, it’s all over’, and at the moment it felt true in a way, like everything before this had been part of a different life. Or perhaps he shouldn’t have had that large whiskey with Miles before they’d come here. He knew that whiskey made him morose, but it was a toast to Morn, so how could he possibly have said no?
Miles launched into an action packed anecdote about the time they’d invited Morn to join them in the holosuites for the Battle of Britain. Catastrophe had inevitably ensued, and it was a great story, but Julian had heard it before- he was there for god’s sake, and that was how he managed to spot someone lurking just beyond the bar’s threshold, hovering as if he hadn’t made a decision about whether to enter yet.
“Garak,” he called, waving, “Join us,”
Once upon a time this would have caused a few raised eyebrows, but a lot had happened in the last several years, hell, a lot had happened in the last few weeks, and now, when Miles, Keiko and Jadzia saw him they smiled and beckoned him in, even Worf gave him a terse, but not unfriendly nod.
“Why were you lurking?” asked Julian as Garak crossed the room to join them.
“I resent that, Doctor,” sniffed Garak, “Lurking, honestly,”
“Hovering then,” he said with a smirk.
“If you must know, I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome.” He said in short, clipped tones. “I know how much trouble the Major went through to ensure my presence wouldn’t cause any trouble at- at Ziyal’s service,”
“It’s hardly the same, Garak,” said Keiko gently.
“Yeah, this is Quark’s anyway,” Miles added decidedly less gently, “Nothing’s sacred here.”
“I resent that.” Said Quark, appearing as if from nowhere between Jadzia and Worf with a new tray of drinks to set on their table.
“Fine, fine, I take it back,” muttered Miles, “Latinum is sacred, right?”
“As it should be,” said Quark, “But I was obviously referring to Morn’s memorial stool. Really, Chief, have a little sensitivity.” And with that he disappeared again, leaving Miles grumbling under his breath and the rest of them smirking.
“Even so,” said Garak, “I know that my last interaction with Morn wasn’t exactly cordial.”
“Oh, that’s right,” said Jadzia, eyes wide with the prospect of gossip, “The comment about the-”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Garak,” cooed Keiko, her arm on Garak’s. “That must be so hard for you,”
Garak smiled tightly at Keiko, but before he could reply Ensign Bergstrom, who had been standing silently until now on Jadzia’s other side, suddenly let out a burst of almost hysterical laughter, then slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. All of them stared for a moment, then she let out another laugh, which quickly turned into a giggle.
“I- I’m sorry, I-” she managed between breathless, hiccoughing laughs, “I don’t- I don’t know what-”
“Come on, Susan,” said Keiko, throwing her arm around the Ensign’s shoulders, “We’ll go somewhere quieter.”
Ensign Bergstrom nodded, and the two of them shuffled off while the rest of the bar gave them strange looks as she continued to giggle.
“That was disrespectful.” Said Worf, breaking the silence.
“Worf!” hissed Jadzia.
“It was disrespectful.”
“Worf, it’s not that simple,” said Julian, “People have all sorts of reactions to grief.”
“Right,” said Miles, “I had a cousin that used to laugh like that. My aunt used to stare daggers at anyone who’d make something of it.” Jadzia nodded with a small, sad smile.
“One of my previous hosts used to, too.”
“Curzon?” asked Julian.
“Emony actually, though I can see why you’d think it was Curzon.”
“I bet Curzon was one of those who just wants to do anything to feel alive” said Miles, draining his glass, “Drink, laugh, the -uh- other thing.”
Jadzia chuckled and tapped the side of her nose, making the rest of them smirk into their drinks.
“He and Morn had that in common,” she said, a little wistfully, ignoring Worf’s obvious displeasure, “They certainly did live.”
“At funerals though?!” exclaimed Kira, who had entered the conversation at the worst possible time.
“Not at the funeral obviously,” said Miles. Jadzia nodded, but Julian thought she was conspicuously silent. He couldn’t blame her, under the circumstances.
“Regardless, pretty much any reaction to grief is acceptable,” said Julian, slipping unconsciously into ‘bedside manner’ mode. “It affects everyone differently.”
“Laughing though? It does seem a little… unseemly,” said Garak, “On Cardassia-”
“Oh, let me guess,” scoffed Julian, “On Cardassia, no one ever laughs, drinks or the ‘other thing’ unless the state sanctions it?”
“Not at funerals,” he said primly, in that sing-song voice that he always used when he was spewing state-sponsored lies that even he didn’t believe. Infuriating man.
“I don’t believe that for a second,”
“Julian’s right,” said Jadzia loudly, pointedly interrupting their bickering. “We’re all missing Morn, and Ensign Bergstrom was seeing him for nearly six months, they were really close even after the breakup, so we’ve no right to judge.”
“Hear hear.” Said Miles gruffly, to murmured agreement from most of their group.
It wasn’t until much later, when the crowds has thinned and the mood had subdued a little, that Miles (somewhat unsteadily after all their toasts to Morn) left Julian and Garak alone so that Morn’s stool wouldn’t be left empty. They were sitting almost underneath the staircase, shielded a little from the other mourners and bustling Ferengi waiters, and Julian was feeling pleasantly fuzzy. He had his genetic enhancements to thank for the fact that he wasn’t flat on his face after matching Miles almost drink for drink, and that he wouldn’t have a hangover tomorrow, but he was definitely feeling it, and he was also feeling a lot of what he could only describe in his inebriated state as; swoopy, teenage feelings. No, it was worse than that.
Swoopy, teenage feelings at a funeral.
Garak was talking about something, but Julian wasn’t listening, he was watching, enraptured as Garak’s features rose and fell and undulated like the tide with the cadence of his voice, his eyes twinkling in the low light. It wasn’t like the way Jadzia’s eyes twinkled, all mischief and flirtation, no, this was as if he was pleased with himself for getting away with something, and if you had figured that much out then he was either going to kill you or-
Oh yes, Julian was definitely drunk.
“Do you really think it’s that unseemly?” he asked suddenly, “Wanting to feel alive to cope when you’ve lost someone?���
“Really, Doctor,” he scoffed, affronted, “You do insist on misquoting me, don’t you? I merely said that laughing hysterically was somewhat-”
“Unseemly?”
“Perhaps.”
“Only perhaps?”
He pursed his lips, rolled his eyes and took a long, indulgent sip of his kanar. It was such a ridiculously Garak thing to do, that Julian couldn’t help but smirk.
“My dear Doctor, if you haven’t figured out the concept of grey areas after everything we’ve been through, then you are far more naive then I had realized.”
“I understand grey areas,” grunted Julian, a little sulkily, “You are a fucking grey area, Garak.”
“If that’s some sort of crude comment about the colour of my skin-”
“What? No, of course it wasn’t- ugh.” He sighed and slumped in his seat, defeated. “I just meant that you- you don’t make much of an effort to be understood.”
“Is that a problem?” asked Garak with a shit-eating grin. (An expression which Julian had, on one memorable but deeply frustrating occasion tried unsuccessfully to explain to him, and since then had vowed never to speak aloud in case it reopened that conversation)
“Oh, fuck off,” he said, smiling despite himself. “You know I love it really.”
Silence.
A second, passed, and then Julian realised what he had just said.
“I- I mean-”
Garak watched him, seeming amused and eager to hear how he was going to dig himself out of this one. Hell, Julian was just as eager to see how he was going to dig himself out.
“I-”
“Feckin’… Didn’t realise the time…” Miles exploded into the conversation like a whiskey scented hurricane and hurriedly grabbed his jacket from the chair besides Julian. “Gotta get back home.”
“See you tomorrow,” called Julian, chuckling when Miles waved but didn’t turn, clearly all too aware that every second that passed was another second that Keiko had to think about exactly how late he was.
Still smiling, he turned to Garak, who was now watching him with a strange expression, head cocked like a curious puppy. (Garak? A puppy?! A curious panther might have been a better comparison, but Julian apparently had bigger problems than inappropriate metaphors.)
“You were saying, Doctor?” he asked, deadly calm and suspiciously pleasant.
“I was saying…” Julian trailed off, feeling exceptionally stupid. What exactly had he been saying?
You know I love it really.
And shit, he did love it.
And Morn was dead, and he wasn’t, and neither was Garak.
And before he really knew what he was doing, Julian was leaning forward, time moving too fast and too slow all at once.
Garak’s mouth was slightly open, his brow ridges raised in surprise, and his whole body froze when their lips met. He tasted like kanar, and the extra texture on his skin was odd, but not unpleasant, almost like he was just kissing someone with chapped lips, and then, the realisation like icewater in his veins, it hit Julian that he was kissing Garak. What the-
What was he doing?!
His eyes slammed open and he wrenched himself away.
“Oh- oh god, I’m so sorry, I-”
“Doctor-”
“That- that was- I’m sorry-”
“Doctor,”
“What?”
Garak was looking at him like he’d never seen him before, the only sign that everything was not utterly completely normal, the rapid rise and fall of his chest and his wide, suddenly dark eyes.
“If you apologise one more time, I may have to kill you.” He said softly.
“I-”
“Be quiet, Doctor Bashir.”
“Ok.”
And then Garak was kissing him with such breathtaking intensity that he thought he might literally melt right there in the bar.
The bar in which a funeral had just been held.
Oh dear god, he was worse than Curzon Dax.
But dear god, he felt like he was finally living.
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metropolis... really tough dogengers season to understand my own feelings on. it finally has full length 23 min episodes like your riders and whatnot so that's great, that's what i've been asking for all along. it has some very oryxcore aspects like sexy cop hagino.
yuz yuz did feel like we were doing i-dolls again but like. much better this time imo. since the show actually cared more about how she felt. and man robots with feelings just gets to me... though the fact that we can't get a single major female or female coded character in this franchise who isn't a teenager or a child or a nonhuman who acts like a child is kind of. okay.jpg
the cop centric angle is very. hm. i think it could've been perfectly fine but it comes across as such a confused portrayal. the characters say out loud that what's important to them as cops is helping people in their community but you hardly ever see that and instead there's so much focus on arresting the bad guys that it just doesn't work. like why couldn't shiraishi talk things through with the other AHK members besides yuz yuz? they're certainly not portrayed as Real Villains this season. if anything (with the exception of shady legend shaberryman) they're more goofy gooberish than ever.
and the ads/product placement... i never minded it before but it's started to feel a bit egregious here. the base dogengers have so little to do in this season that when they spend one of their few lines of dialogue in an episode shilling a product it just makes me grimace.
all in all: i dunno if i can fully recommend this one. if you have similar tastes to me i think you'll get enjoyment out of it but as a season of dogengers i'd say it might be the weakest one so far. and if you're going to watch it maybe wait and see if h-ggg puts out V2s for those last few eps because the V1s are on the rough side. like not only is this a show where you really want the onscreen text translated but even some of the dialogue feels poorly TL'd and i was having trouble parsing what was being said in a few scenes. though i should be glad they finished it at all i suppose
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The Blackest Day || Elvis Presley
Part 2 of August
pairing: Elvis Presley x reader (mentioned)
warnings: angst, major character death, death, description of dead body, mentions of drug use
word count: 1656
masterlist | add yourself to the taglist HERE
>> I decided to make a series based on the Elvis fic I wrote called August, but I'll be going in reverse chronological order with them. M(x) means Mr./Mrs. I did the M(x) for those who are gender neutral. I hope everyone enjoys this even though it’s incredibly depressing lol
"Elvis, honey, where are you? Are you still in the bathroom?" you call out, wandering upstairs to try and find your husband.
He had been having a weird day. He was in and out of consciousness, but you thought nothing of it since it was normal nowadays. It had been a few hours since you heard from him, but you figured he had taken a nap. The last you saw Elvis, he was in the bathroom, and he had been having some trouble health-wise with that, so maybe he was still in there instead of napping. He has been doing that a lot lately. You had tried everything to get him to go to rehab, even sneaking him there in the middle of the night, but he absolutely refused. So eventually, you gave up as much as you hated to. You still got onto Elvis whenever you visibly saw him take anything, though. But he never listened. He was hardly there anymore, anyway.
"You didn't fall asleep on the commode again, did you?" you yell again, finally arriving at your bedroom where the en suite door was slightly ajar.
"Elvis?" you ask hesitantly, getting a very sour taste in your mouth at the eerie silence in the room.
You continue walking towards the bathroom, and when you get to the door and try to push it open, something is blocking your way. Furrowing your eyebrows, you squeeze through the door, and your feet land by the toilet. You look down to see what was blocking the door, and much to your horror, Elvis is slumped forward on the floor and stiff in position.
"Elvis," you say cautiously, reaching out to look at his face. That was your first mistake.
His eyes were open and bloodshot as if they had been open for quite some time. His body was in a sitting position, except it was frozen like that as he lay on the ground. You began to tremble, a cold sweat taking over your body.
"Um," you stutter, "Shit."
You slowly step out of the bathroom through the door's opening, hurrying to the bedside phone to call 9-1-1. After explaining what was happening in near hysterics, the operator assured me someone would be at Graceland soon. After hanging up, you shakily call Steve, who had worked with your husband over a decade ago for the '68 Comeback Special on NBC. The two of them remained friends, and you even got close with Steve as well.
"Hello?" Steve answers the phone.
"Steve," you breathe out, "It's EP. Something's happened."
"What do you mean something has happened, Y/N?"
"I don't- he-," you swallow air, trying to get words out as sobs wrack your body.
You don't want to say he's dead because you don't know for sure and don't know if you're ready to accept it.
"Calm down, Y/N. Breathe. I'll be there as soon as possible, okay?" Steve says calmly.
"Okay," you whisper through the phone before hanging up.
You called Jerry next, and then Vernon, in hysterics the entire time. But everyone knew to get to the hospital quickly from what little you could muster. Luckily your daughter was visiting with Vernon, so you didn't have to worry about being swept up in the ambulance getting here and rushing her father out on a gurney. You carefully returned to the bathroom and sat on the floor beside your husband, softly rubbing your hand along his back. You let out a loud sob at how his body felt under your touch- cold and final. You sit there like that, touching him gently until paramedics rush into the house. Forcing yourself to get up, you open the door so they can get inside the bathroom. You felt so stupid. You should've checked on him hours ago. Maybe he would've been okay. It's a blur after the medics hurry into the bathroom and get Elvis onto a stretcher. The looks on their faces are very telling, so you know something is deeply wrong. You suddenly realize you're sitting in the hospital waiting room when you come out of your daze. Jerry is on one side of you while Vernon is on the other, with your daughter in his lap. Steve wouldn't be here for another a few hours. It's cold and quiet in the waiting area as you nervously chew the skin off your lips. You check your watch; it's 3:30 in the afternoon now. It feels like you've been waiting forever for a doctor to come out and say everything is okay and that Elvis will be fine. Even if, deep down, you know he's not fine, you're still in denial.
"M(x) Presley," the doctor says from in front of you.
You snap your head up to look at him, and he has a solemn look on his face.
"We tried everything we could, but Mr. Presley has passed away. I'm so deeply sorry," the doctor frowns, shaking his head as he looks at you.
You stare at him blankly as you begin to sob openly.
"Y/N, breathe," Jerry says, choking back tears of his own as he rubs your back to calm you.
The doctor goes to leave to give everyone some space, but you stop him.
"Can I see him, doctor?" you sniff as tears stream down your face rapidly.
The doctor nods and motions for you to follow him down the hallway. Before leaving Jerry and Vernon, you kiss your daughter on the cheek. You glance up to see Vernon staring at the floor, a look of regret on his face.
The doctor takes you to Elvis' room and lets you enter alone. You shut the door slowly behind you as if not to disturb Elvis as he lay in the bed motionless. His eyes are now closed, with his face resting completely. There are a few blotches on his face, but you ignore them. You grab his hand, which is now stiff and cold.
"Why did you have to leave me?" you whisper as tears fall onto the bed sheets below you.
You take a chair from next to you, pull it to the edge of the bed, and sit down. You never let go of Elvis' hand, and you put your face down on the bed, curling an arm around your head as you sob.
"Why did you leave?" you keep repeating as you cry uncontrollably, unable to breathe with the heavy weight of utter loss on your chest.
The love of your life is gone forever. You spent two decades together in total. You had a child, got married, went with him everywhere he went, much to the Colonel's distaste. Then you remember you needed to call Colonel Tom Parker as much as you hated to. He deserved to know, you guess. It felt like minutes you had been in the room, but it had been a few hours in reality. A nurse came in and brought you a glass of water one time that you remember. Another came in and asked if you were okay. It's not until a knock on the door for the third time shakes you from your stupor.
"Y/N, Steve is here," Vernon sticks his head in the door.
"Okay," you whisper to yourself while lifting your head.
You kiss your husband on the forehead before standing up and walking to the door.
"Go see him, Vernon," you say hoarsely before passing by him.
You felt as if everyone was responsible in some way for Elvis' death, even yourself. You, Jerry, and the other cousins tried your damnedest to get Elvis sober, but you all sort of fizzled out at some point. Vernon and the Colonel didn't do very much, however. You felt some animosity towards them for that. You're walking down the hall towards the waiting room, and you finally spot Steve talking to Jerry.
"Here, I'll let them tell you," Jerry says to Steve, reaching a hand out to you.
You take it and envelop Jerry's hand with both of yours, squeezing tightly before letting go. He gathers your daughter into his arms and walks off to give you and Steve some time alone.
Steve is staring at you, his eyes searching yours for an answer.
"He's gone, Steve," you say, your voice wrecked from crying for hours.
"Jesus, Y/N, I'm so sorry," Steve sighs, taking you into his arms. This time you don't cry because there are no more tears left. You don't have the energy to be emotional anymore.
"He's resting. He's finally away from all the pain he felt," you sniff, pulling away from the embrace, "I need to call the Colonel."
Steve has an odd look on his face, but he understands, "I'll be here when you get back."
You nod at him and walk over to the phone in the other part of the waiting room. You dial the old man's number that you, unfortunately, know by heart.
"This is Colonel Tom Parker speaking."
"Hey, it's Y/N," you say quietly.
"Oh, hello! I've tried calling your house today, but no one answered. Is everything okay?" the Colonel says, and he sounds almost too nice for your liking.
"No, nothing is okay right now. Elvis passed away a few hours ago."
"I beg your pardon? Did you say Elvis Presley passed away?"
"Yes, I think it's on the news now. I'm surprised you haven't heard," you furrow your eyebrows.
"Oh goodness. My sincerest condolences, Y/N. Thank you for telling me," the Colonel says in a sad tone.
"It's no problem. I have to go now, goodbye," you say and hang up the phone.
You let out a long sigh. You hated interacting with that man, but today you had to. Hopefully, you won't ever have to see him or talk to him again. But hope for anything seems very unlikely after today.
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#elvis#elvis presley#elvis x reader#elvis presley x reader#elvis movie#elvis (2022)#angst#elvis fanfic#elvis fanfiction#elvis fic#elvis imagine#elvis presley fanfic#elvis presley fanfiction#elvis presley imagine#elvis presley fic#floralcyanide writes
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