#-long i think. its sort of hard to fit yourself back into a space thats been left empty for so long yk yk

[dreamsy990]

slightly reductive chart bc im bored

TUMBLR FUCKING TAG LIMITED ME SO

1: odysseus gives me weighted blanket neurodivergent. doesnt NEED one but he IS one yk. but otherwise like come on

2: i dont think they would share clothes doesnt seem in character for either tbh. i do like the idea though that if ody had another cloak or something he left at home penelope might wear it while shes weaving so theyre a bit skewed for that

3: i think they use pet names a roughly equal PERCENTAGE of the time, but ody says penelopes name a lot more when talking to her and therefore happens to end up using them more

4: penelope seems very introverted to me. odysseus is an extrovert in uhhh the sort of way people misunderstand it. like extroverts get ENERGY from talking to people. its not that they prefer being around people its that they need to be yknow. anyways i think ody is slightly more introvert leaning than the people want you to know. is what im saying

5: dont have much to say about penelopes placement. but this is a bit of a silly headcanon i think hes not the best at expressing things genuinely? hes a liar by nature so trying to be honest is sort of like pulling teeth <- thats more of an odyssey!odysseus headcanon but i still apply it to epic!ody sometimes. so hes not the best at being sincere with words but hes VERY physically affectionate and he loves giving gifts hes sort of like a cat who--gives you dead mice yk yk. i dont fully subscribe to this headcanon but i do when i think its cute

6: odysseus did OBJECTIVELY confess first but penelope wouldve done so really soon if he didnt

7: they both kill on reflex that bug is dead the moment its spotted sorry

8: cars arent real

9: i think penelope could cook if you gave her instructions but this hasnt been demonstrated yet though sooo. as for ody i think he can make something edible if he has to. mostly out of necessity. he doesnt really care about making something GOOD yknow but he can make a solid 4.5/10 meal if required. like if you have the extra time to make it good you should be using that time for other things or whatever. is his take. i do like the idea of him maybe getting more into it post canon though,,, idk thoughts im not totally sold but it could be cute

10: sorry theyre both absolutely DISGUSTING in public. they sit on each others laps and kiss in front of everyone all the time its crazy theyre ACTUALLY revolting. people joked that the war would be good for them because theyd finally figure out how to be apart and they were WRONG they somehow figure out how to be worse

11: guys do i. need to explain this.

12: they both dont have any experience lmaoooo

[acaciapines]

I just had a thought: do you think that in a world where daemons are out & about as an everyday fact of life, societies would veer more towards largely pedestrian, just because a lot of settled daemons might not be able to fit into vehicles?

okay so i've been thinking about this nonstop since you sent it lol and i am. going to go on a very long answer. so um apologizes in advance??? i'm sure i'll answer the question somewhere. the short answer is do whatever you want forever, and likely in a real-world scenario it would be a sort of case-by-case basis on the local cultural values and historical patterns of settling.

my gut answer is "no," actually, for a few different reasons. i have a few different ways of writing worlds with daemons based on what i want to say with the story, but most of them are sort of based on interrogating the text of his dark materials because it presents a very interesting and incredibly unsatisfying picture of daemons, at least to me. and so because of that, i think a core concept is like, okay, what DO people settle as??

because, like, that's what this question is based on--this idea of, what do people settle as? i think probably early human societies would veer pedestrian, but i also think early human societies wouldnt actually settle young, or maybe even at all. bc of how hard survival is back then, the ability to change form is like, a premium. its sort of a privilege for a daemon to settle as a sparrow, and not, like, need to be a wolf sometimes to defend the town's sheep, or a horse to haul up the materials for building. i think actual animals would still be used for these tasks, but like, if you can turn into a horse, sometimes its easier to just do it yourself, rather than having to build trust with an animal, you know?

but blah blah blah, things keep developing. people want to go further, and keep pushing further. so, we are still going to get ships, because sea travel is still really hard even if half of you can turn into an orca whale. and i think as societies develop so too do like, humans put meanings onto the animals around them, and now settling SAYS something about a person, and i feel like you can come up with all sort of stigmas. like, if you settle as a working animal (think horses, oxen, etc) you're seen as inherently lower class than someone who settles as a lion. and now its a bit easier to keep the predators away, so people dont need to hold out on settling for so long, and now theres MEANING behind settling. and this means you can do it wrong.

so, like, what i'm getting as here is i think most people would end up settling pretty small anyways. like, big dog-sized being the larger end of things. if you look at hdm there's already a mammal bias, if you look at daemonfic as a whole there's a canine and feline bias, and i think this would hold true in a real world situations, too. settled form is (as i write it) influenced very much by what a kid is exposed to growing up--as time goes on the idea is you settle younger, and younger, and you settle as the RIGHT sort of animal, the sorts that are good and noble and say something good. you dont settle as, like, a sea cucumber. and an elephant, well--thats so BIG! you really like to take up space, dont you? how...interesting.

and so as things industrialize i think trains, cars, planes all still come to be. i think the expectation is you settle smaller to make up for it. lowkey i think something like the americans with disabilities act is passed for people with larger daemons, but i think the same sort of stuff happens--like, yeah, this school is accessible for people with bison-daemons! you have to call ahead so somebody can set up the fright elevator for you, and you can't go out in the main halls, and like, maybe it follows the law technically, but. like. its not great.

um. basically i think a world with daemons (if we base it off of HDM, which i do more often than not these days) has a lot of biases and discrimination regarding settled form that would lead to places not really being any better than they are today. because the assumption is you settle small. and if you dont settle small, well thats a you problem, isnt it? its not for the "normal" people to fix.

BUT ALL THAT SAID i think a society that is more pedestrian is also perfectly plausible. i think its just down to what sort of story you want to tell. and right now the most recent daemon au i wrote is my owl house daemon au, wherein the way i built out the human world was entirely based on my issues with hdm, and the entire central conflict on the story is around the idea of settling, so...this.

uh, i hope that answers things! feel free to send in followups lol i have Many Thoughts About Daemons.

[5-secondsofcolor]

The Haunting of Hood House || C. H.

Prompt: "Listen, I know it's late, but I've been watching Buzzfeed Unsolved and...can you come over?"

Word count: 1.4k ish

TW: a little bit Spoopy and swearing

This is a part of a Halloween collab hosted by the lovely @maluminspace and @h0tsos (thanks so much for hosting these!!!).

EVENT MASTERLIST!

Calum settled onto the couch long ago. He didn’t plan for a marathon but the chilly October afternoon called for a spooky show. One episode of Buzzfeed Unsolved after another, he watches as Ryan tries to contain Shane between fits of fear. Calums only off the couch long enough to grab a pizza before continuing on with episodes of it.

It’s only once he’s run out of episodes that he realizes how late it’s gotten. The light from the TV is the only thing that illuminates his home.

It feels like the whole house stretches with him as he gets off the couch. The darkness plays with the space in his peripherals as he grabs his phone and flips on the flashlight. It's only then that he realizes he's afraid to go back across the room.

Was that something he saw? The photos in the living room feel like they’re staring, observing as he tries to calm himself. This is ridiculous, he thinks to himself as he walks into the living room and shuts off the TV.

Unsure why he felt the need to be so silent, he turned on the hallway light and started the way to his bedroom. Maybe, it’s a night to turn in early. Duke’s nails on the hardwood floor are the only noise he hears and he heads back down the hall and to his bedroom.

Paranoia only grows as he tries to shower. He’s hyper aware of every creek in the house and can’t help but try to plan what to do if someone tried to wander in now. He’d have nothing to protect himself with. What’s he going to do? Toss a shampoo bottle at a ghost?

Instinctively, he dials Vanessas number as he gets ready for bed.

“Are you busy?”

“A little bit. Just trying to sort out some things before work Monday.”

A creek from down the hall pushes him to cut the crap. There’s no way he’s sleeping alone tonight, “Listen, I know it’s late, but I’ve been watching Buzzfeed Unsolved and… can you come over?”

Her laugh starts to unknot the anxiety in his chest. “Cal, you’ve got to stop doing this to yourself. Remember the one time with Ashton?”

“It was not my finest moment,” he admits.

“That’s a funny thing to call the full blown paranormal investigation. All the apps on your phone. What was it? iGhost?” She lays into him. He knew she wouldn’t let it go the last time he had to ask her over for the same thing but he swears there’s something to the house.

“Well I was thinking, maybe we could have a nice breakfast in the morning,” he pivots. Not exactly happy to talk about the last time he did this to himself. That time he had to have his mom pray a protective karakia over the phone just to go back to spending time at home alone.

“You drive a hard bargain, Hood. Just sit tight with Caspar and I’ll head right over.”

Hes not that upset at her teasing but he can’t hide the bit of whine in his voice as he shouts back, “it’s not funny!”

“I’m sorry. I’ll stop. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“Ok. Drive safe.”

He burrows further into bed to wait for her. The covers might be nothing’s more than fabric and feathers but they make him feel safer and the room grows darker and darker around him.

A large crashing comes from the back of the house and he knows he should stay in bed and ignore the noise. Something stronger pulls at him and he starts to walk down the hall and back into his music room, the only place something that large could’ve fallen.

He holds his breath, trying not to break the silence, as he pushes the door open, his eyes take a moment to adjust to the darkness. At first, he can only make out a few of the frames hanging on the wall and old awards that hang out on the bookshelves. Nothing looks out of order, yet.

Moving as quick as possible, he reaches into the room and turns on the light. The room itself is empty and not a single item is out of place. Double checking every possible hiding spot only causes his stomach to sink. There’s nothing to be found and that makes it all feel so much worse.

His voice is not loud, and he forces it to stay steady as he calls out, “Nessa? Vanessa?”

There’s no chance that he’d have missed her coming in. He would’ve had to unlock the front door but he still hopes for a mundane explanation.

No such answer is found. Instead hes left standing in the perfectly boring room, becoming acutely aware of the air, cold and thick around him and the odd babbling coming from the front of the house. It was not loud enough to make out words but steady enough to be undeniable. The house was alive in a way he had never known.

A laugh abruptly breaks through the murmurs but it was wrong, distorted as it rose filling the whole house with its inhuman sound. Then it fell. Leaving nothing but silence. Absolute silence.

It’s nothing, just tricks, the night and your brain playing tricks on you, Calum tells himself as he returns to bed. Maybe if he repeats it enough he’ll believe it.

——

The murmurms come and go a few more times, making it feel like the house is coming alive in waves. The time ticks slowly as he finds comfort in his room only. Duke held tightly to his side as he listened, too afraid to anger the house if he tried to drown it out with music.

Three heavy knocks on the door cut through all the noise. Finally. He hops out of bed and opens the front door

“Calum?” Vanessa’s voice sounds small, distant, as she steps into the house. “Are you ok?

“Yeah. Let’s just—let’s just go to bed yeah?”

He grasps her hand, wasting no time in getting down the hall and back under his covers, the only place that felt safe in the insanity. Last time he watches anything of the sort. No matter how funny it had been to think of haunted houses and demons on bridges, it would never be worth this feeling. He swears off everything as he finally feels a bit of security with her back home. The other side of the bed shifts. He pulls her in, his grasp loose and then tightening as the house settles and sleep slowly takes over.

“How was the drive over?” He asks as she settles against him. Her skin is unusually cold against his. It’s only then that he realizes she wasn’t wearing a sweater when she came in.

“Cold.”

“I can feel that,” he takes her hands into his. Clasping them between his own to warm them. He gently rubs them together. Even in the dark that something is missing.

“Where’s your ring?” He asks, the heirloom hardly ever left her finger.

“I don't know.” Her response is so nonchalant he takes it for exhaustion on her part. He accepts the night as done with; maybe the morning would be better. For now, her presence is comforting enough to lull him to sleep.

He wakes up in a room thats all too loud, the murmuring is back and sounds closer than ever. It almost feels like the noise is coming from within his head. The cold has him immediately reaching to pull Vanessa close but there’s no one there.

It takes a moment for him to register another set of knocks on the front door. He checks his phone for the time. “Missed Call Nessa” his phone reads back, a shiver runs up his spine as he turns to the empty bed.

Another call from her comes through, he’s quick to answer, “Vanessa?”

“Hey can you open the door? I’ve been waiting.”

“Waiting?”

The now empty bed turns his stomach as his mind runs away. He strides out of his bedroom, stopping by the hallway closet to grab his bat. It’s so stupid. It’s all so stupid, he shakes his head as he unlocks the door and calls, “Open!”

He watches, bat in hand, as someone — or something— takes grasp of the knob and it turns ever so slowly. Was it moments or hours that he stood perfectly still waiting for it to open. It’s Vanessa. It’s got to be Vanessa. Is it better for it to be Vanessa though?

“Holy shit, Calum!,” The alarm is clear in her voice as she stepped back out onto his tiny porch. “What are you doing with that thing?”

“Nothing. I just--”

Vanessa flips the switch, illuminating the living room. The shadows that had played with his mind receding.

He looks back down the hall, it’s normal. Plain and simple, it’s the same hallway he sees every morning, the light to his music room still on. Everything swirls in his head. The other Vanessa, the murmurs, the crashing. Was it all in his head? Will she believe him if he told her everything?

“Cal? Are you ok? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

[kcatta-wodahs]

Hey there :3 May I request a matchup🙈? I'm a 5'6 tall, queer, chin long dyed red haired girl(she/her) and you can call me Karo if you need a name :p I don't really care if it's a single pairing or a poly one as well as the kind of relationship (platonic/romantic/sexual), but maybe a romantic one would be sweet🤔 I'm a INFP and was born under the sign of Pisces and I think the stereotype fits me pretty well lol. I don't think I would describe myself as clingy, I definetely need my space (part1)

and me-time, but sometimes it's also nice to have someone who will drag me outside to do stuff or socialize if I'm isolating myself too much or another depressive episode seems to creep up on me. I think they need to understand, doesn't matter if it's a platonic or romantic relationship, that sometimes I can't give them much(time etc) and that that's nothing personal and that they're still very important to me. Hmmm I think I would prefer my relationship like I like my fanfics hehe, slow burning, like first get to know each other, (enemies to) friends to lovers is just *chefs kiss* for me <3 I really love to draw and sing, to dance too, I like to spend time in nature and with animals, help them too. But I also like adrenaline rushes, like rollercoasters, cave exploring, bungee jumping, exploring lost places etc, I would say I'm almost up to anything if it's exciting or interesting, but I definetely like just chilling and watching netflix, playing games or watching Vine compilations or crackhead satire twilight tiktoks(which is tbh the things I do most of the time until someone drags me out). I love making others laugh with just random outbursts(thats pretty much my humour, just randomness and gen z memes). I try not to judge anyone for anything and be open for all kinds of stuff, except for like non-negotiable things for me like racism, homophobia, sexism etc, like, full offense but I have absolutely a zero tolerance for that. I also get very emotional very easily, doesn't matter if it's something not so important like a touching movie scene(so many things make me cry so easily haha) or like in an argument. I really have a hard time argueing, I hate it SO much, I either try to avoid conflict(and run away like a coward lol) or if it's really something we have to discuss I sometimes need time and space in between(not the best under stress talker/thinker), but if the other side is being calm and considerate then I think I would be fine too Oh almost forgot,I love cuddling(definetely also platonic)and am not afraid to just throw myself at my friends/lover/s I am getting better at not caring about what others think, but sometimes I'm still pretty insecure about everything(my actions,my future,my appearence..),but my motto is fake it till you make it,so feck other people,I can do whatever the hell I like and nobody's gonna stop me hehe😈🙈 Soo yes,I think that will be enough😂Thank you for your time and effort👐💕👐

A/N: I promise you fake it til you make it is 100000% good strategy and also i see feck are you from ireland

I pair you with.... The Attic Sandwich!

Beel and Belphie would be perfect partners for you. The two of them balance each other out in many ways, and you fit right into that. They value the connection between them and because of it they don't expect to always be around each other. This connection extends to you. Beel takes you out to all sorts of places (usually ones where there's unique food) and would definitely have fun with some adrenaline rushes. It makes him forget about his hunger for a bit. Belphie is absolutely there for your sense of humor and he's very good at watching your depression and arranging something to cheer you up.

More Below the Cut!

The plot of the first 20 chapters is what really gets you close to these two. (Spoilers for that follow and in the last three bullet points) Beel opens up more and more to you, and just absolutely falls for you. Belphie gives us that sweet, sweet enemies to lovers trope. He becomes curious about you, especially with how smitten Beel is, and ends up falling along the way.

THIS is the cuddliest group to ever cuddle oh my goodness when you want snuggles you will have them

They adore just relaxing with you. The three of you become a pile on the couch while watching movies or other videos.

Beel will watch you scroll through tumblr while he engulfs you with his arms. Belphie somehow worms his way into yours and alternates between sleeping against your chest and watching your screen as well. You hear an occasional snort of laughter from him.

Beel is very emotionally intelligent, so he can quickly determine your mood and what he can do to help.

Belphie encourages you to break out of your shell and be yourself. He's very blunt about his opinion of other people lol

He finds himself staying awake longer with you just so he can hear you. He thinks you're hilarious, honestly, and loves talking with you.

When you throw yourself at Beel he catches you. He big and strong and loves affection from you. but also this happens https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NIhl1cW9Me8

Belphie thinks its the funniest shit he can't breathe

If you do it to Belphie honestly he just stands there - either to let you fall or cling to him like a koala. He looks so Done but I promise he loves it. He laughs at you either way. He saves hugs and cuddling for when laying in bed or sitting. Too tired to hold you.

They both understand needing space, and will often just go off and do their own thing. They have complete faith in your feelings for each other, and will never doubt that you love them.

At least not for needing alone time - Belphie has lingering guilt over plot but he tries to make up for it by protecting you.

The others in the house can't help but be reminded of the trio they were with Lilith as angels.

While it still hurts to remember, Beel and Belphie feel almost as if they've come home around you. A part of them that was lost is found again. 

Snippet!

Cleaning day is nobody's favorite, but least of all Belphie's. Too much work. Just don't take ou your stuff and then you don't have to clean it later, right? The problem to him seems to be all the time people spend awake and he shouldn't have to deal with it!

But cleaning day is a little better with Beel and Karo. With their laughs and energy. Usually seeing other people so active drained him, but not with those two. He watched as Karo danced around the room to the music she had put on, while she and Beel tidied up. It was frankly adorable, and best of all: Belphie wasn't expected to join.

He was happy to watch. He watched as Karo spun into Beel's side, surprising him and causing him to stumble before he laughed and swept her up into a spin together. He watched as Beel picked Karo up with ease to put something on the top shelves of the room. He watched Karo find pillows in all the nooks and crannies of the room, and he huffed and whined when she threw each one at him on the bed.

Belphie was on snack duty. In exchange for the two helping him with cleaning day, he was expected to provide the rewards. This was not a small feat when Beel was involved, but it was far better than cleaning.

"Hah! The closet is done!" Karo declared, brandishing her feather duster. "Snack us, Belphie!"

He couldn't help but chuckle. It was an awful phrase. Silly and stupid, but Karo's enthusiasm was just so contagious. 

"Good job. C'mere," he told them, reaching to his hoard of treats.

Karo practically jumped onto the bed, grinning at him, while Beel was close behind looking very expectant. Belphie hid the curling smile of his lips by lifting up a large bag. "The closet is the biggest monster of them all - so for defeating it, you two get this."

Karo gasped and Beel's eyes gleamed. "Oh, those are my favorite..." he said, already reaching out.

"Ah-ah," Belphie pulled the bag back, to be met with a pout from Beel. "You'll eat them too fast for Karo to get any, so we're gonna do something different."

"Different?" Karo asked. 

Belphie smirked and opened the bag, which led to a very audible tummy rumble from Beel. He and Karo couldn't help but laugh. He pulled out a snack - just one - and held it up. "Karo, say 'aaah'." 

She beamed at him and opened her mouth. "Aaah!" Belphie tried really hard to keep his blush down as he dropped the snack in her mouth. She was so darn cute about everything. 

"Now you give one to Beel."

"Just one?" 

"Just one," Belphie agreed, smirking at the pout.

It didn't last long though, as Karo held up the snack and said "aaah" to Beel. He eagerly opened his mouth for the treat, but shocked himself by blushing heavily once she leaned over to feed him. Karo didn't comment, but seemd to be rather proud of the fact.

Belphie fed her another, and she followed up with Beel - but Beel took her hand after stealing the snack from her fingertips. He couldn't help but kiss the palm of her hand. "You're... so cute," he mumbled. "I like this."

"I thought you would," Belphie said, pleased with himself. "Karo?" he held up another. 

She went for the treat, but instead he pulled it away, holding it above his head. "Beel gave you a kiss, don't I get one too?"

Karo paused and blinked before laughing and leaning in. "You're adding new rules," she told him. 

"Never said I couldn't," he answered, giving her a light peck on the lips before presenting her with the treat. The look of satisfaction in her eyes made his heart pound, and he could tell that Beel's was just as busy.

"My turn," Beel said quickly. Whether he meant for a snack or for a kiss... well. We shall see.

[the-fiction-witch]

Apologize P6

REAL LIFE: COUPLE: TBS X READER RATING: SMUT

Once we got to mine we had some simple dinner and went up to my room playing old video games for a while, "Hey Uhhh Y/n, I've been thinking about what you said the other day" he says as I was playing a rather puzzling Lara croft level while Thomas sat beside me his arm around my back "What did I say the other day?" I asked "You know the day you let me Uhhh... Touch your-" he blushed looking at my chest "you know" "Want to again? You don't have to ask Thomas you can just do it" I laughed "Well... Later sugar, actually I've been thinking about what you said about you not being comfortable with me touching your...area?" "Umm?" I asked pausing the game "Look it's just an idea tell me to shut up but it though maybe we could maybe if we wanted to do something physical other then making out and me getting to feel your boobs maybe we could just cuddle up and .. touch ourselves" he suggested "How would that work?" I asked "Well we would lay down together" he smirked pulling me gently to lay down on my back with him next to me "and maybe cuddle up or start kissing and... Just play with ourselves that way I'm not touching you but we can still do stuff" he explained "I don't know how too" I whispered "Y-you what?" He laughs "I don't know how" I blushed "You don't know how to...play with yourself?" And I shook my head "aww that's so sweet, and kinda sad, so you've never in your life had an orgasum?" "No' I blushed "Oh you poor thing" he says giving me a kiss "I could always teach you?" "How would you know about girl stuff?" I asked "I'll admit, I've watched alot of porn" he says

"Im not sure, I mean Im okay with just making you feel happy and good, I can go without an orgasum"

"No becuase then i feel like a dick Y/n, its not fair I get one and you don't?"

"but whats so good about one anyway? Im okay" I shrug

"what so- my god you can tell you've never had one" he laughs "They feel amazing like the best feeling in the known universe okay, and if Im going to have one I want you too aswell"

Not long after we where laid out bodies under my duvet, in our underwear gasping for air both of us overwhelmed and exaughted "Fuck..." He said between breaths "fucking hell that was... Just fuck" he muttered "Was it-" I began "oh fuck you don't even need to ask sugar" he says "fuck that was good Y/n." He smirked "what about you? Was it okay?" "Very good" I smiled nuzzling close to him "again?' I giggled after a little while once we got our breath back "Again? It's addictive isn't it?" He laughs and I nodded "you really wanna go again?" "Very much" I giggled "Humm okay come on sugar' he smirked pulling me back to kissing him... I humming my little tune as I listened to my headphones while I read my book, it was the last day for this year of college and I was thrilled all my grades perfect for my next year so I had little to do until suddenly my book was thrown from my hand across the room hands on my waist and lips on mine. I considered screaming, biting this person, kicking them like crazy before I realized who the familiar lips belonged too as he pulled away "Hi Thomas" I laughed "Hi Y/n, guess what!" He said excitedly "What?" I laughed "I passed! Top of my class" "Aww well done Thomas" I laughed "can I have my book back?" I asked "Ohh yeah sorry" he blushed going and fetching my book bringing it back for me "aren't you happy?' "Of course I am, but I knew you'd pass Thomas" I smiled giving his cheek a kiss making him blush a little more "You ready to head home?" He asks and I nodded so we gathered our stuff and went out to his car driving down the sunny roads "So I have this awesome plan for his next week" he smirked "Ohh do you?" I laughed "Don't judge till you hear my amazing plans" "Go on" "Right, this week to celebrate our end of our first year of college we are going on an adventure" "Right?' "We are going camping" he says "our own little tent, all by ourselves, all week" "Why do I think you didn't come up with this?' I laughed "Okay... You got me." He sighed as he drove "Dan did, him and Mark are going camping together and... I thought it sounded like a good idea" "And?" "And my dad will throw a fit if they go on there own..." "So Dan and mark are coming with us?' I laughed "Well yeah but they will have there own tent and be like away from us. So you gonna come?" "Sure" I laughed "Yes, that my girl" he smiled kissing my hand "so pack your bag but not to much okay sugar it's a week but we only have a little tent" he says as we parked up by my house and headed up to my room "I have my own single airbed if you want? I can bring it with me" I said as I sat on my bed "Well Uhhh u don't really think our tent with have room for two singles sugar..." He explained sitting with me "I was kinda thinking we could uhh maybe just rough it on a nice double airbed?" He smirked giving my neck tickly kissed "Ahh Thomas" I giggled pushing him away "why do I think your using this as an excuse to share a bed for a week?" "I'm not using it as an excuse Y/n it's just that... Dan and mark will get to snuggle up all week, if I'm going to be away on some seaside holiday with my brother and his boyfriend in some tiny little tent... Least I can get out of it is a snuggle with my girlfriend" I couldn't help but blush hearing that word "What?" He laughs "why are you going all red sugar?" He laughs "You've not called me that before" I laughed "Called you what?" "Your girlfriend" I blushed "Haven't I? Could have sworn I have" he says "Once... While beating up Daniel" "See I have" "I kinda assumed you just kinda said that... If nothing else but for simplicity, that's my girlfriend sounds alot more powerful in a argument then thats the girl I'm seeing" I explain "Your right' he laughs "but I do think of you as my girlfriend Y/n, unless... Your not okay with that?' "No, more then okay" I smiled giving him a kiss .

I packed my suitcase as tightly as I could having to sit on it to get the zip to close having another extra bag of stuff that wouldn't fit, it's hard to fit a week of stuff in one bag, as soon as it got it all together mostly having packed dresses and such I did my make up and headed down to the little house seeing Thomass car parked on the drive as him and Dan tried desperately to for everything in, I suddenly felt even worse for my suitcase of clothes when mark who was sat on the bonnet saw me and waved "Morning Y/n" he smiled "Ohh hey Y/n" Dan waved from inside the boot as he had climbed inside in an attempt to organise it "Ahh Y/n your here sugar" Thomas smiled as he abandoned his brother and gave me a hug "Who's this?" A stern voice asked I looked and saw Thomas and moms dad looking as angry as usual "Y/n dad, you've met her before" Thomas sighed holding my hand "Have I?" "Briefly met her before" he corrected "Y/n his is my dad, dad this is Y/n... My girlfriend" "Just hurry up" his dad sighed before going in the house I went over to help Dan but he looked so defeated as he saw my suitcase "Four people going camping for a week, can't fit in a fucking Corsa!" He complained "Sorry" "It's not your fault Y/n, it wouldn't be so bad if somebody wasn't taking three different outfit options for each day" "I like choice" mark complained "And if someone else wasn't taking six boxes of condoms!" "Dan shut up, there for everyone' Thomas complained "We don't use them, neither of us can get pregnant, six boxes, six boxes of twelve condoms... That is seventy two condoms! How much sex are you planning to be having?" Dan complained "You guys should use condoms" I said "there not just for pregnancy, they help stop the spread of STI's and STD's" "Really?" Mark asked "Yeah... Wasn't this covered in health class?" "Ohh honey we didn't even get straight sex advice let alone info for us" Dan answered "That's shit" Thomas said "Indeed it is" Dan laughed as by some miracle we got it all to fit in the car with a little overhang into the back footwells I honestly wouldn't have been suprised if when we got there we opened the boot and everything explodes out and we all got in opening our windows and starting playing some CDs "We ready?" Thomas asks "Yeah!" We all yelled "Right let's get going then" Thomas smiled as he started up "and we will stop for hash browns and egg muffins" "Yay!!!!" I sat in the car watching as Thomas and Dan put up the tents on this little Mablethorpe campsite Dan and marks tent was orange and me and Thomas's was blue, our windbreaks around our little tents, even if our tents are far enough apart we wouldn't hear each other our campfire set up in the middle, I sat in the passenger seat as Mark sat in the back seat having a cigarette

"Hey guys we're already" Dan yelled so I got out starting to sort out my stuff crawling into the little tent to sort out, as soon as I got in I noticed the space for all the stuff and the sleeping compartment so I put all the stuff in from the car and I unzipped the sleeping compartment to put my stuff in but there was only one kingsized airbed where Thomas laid over the duvet on his stomach his head on his hand

"Hi Honey" He smirked

"Hi Thomas" I smiled

"Soooo... You wanna come snuggle in bed with me Y/n?" He asks

"Well I don't have much of a choice" I laughed "Either that or bunk with Dan and mark, and I have a feeling they don't want me in there tent

"Don't worry I'll keep you nice and warm" he smiles grabbing my waist and pulling me on top of him I laughed and tried pushing him away both of us bouncing around on the airbed giggling like crazy.

We spent most of that first-day unpacking and setting everything up till it began to get dark so we sat around our little campfire roasting some marshmallows

"Hey, Y/n? You ready to get to bed?" Thomas asks

"Sure" I smiled

"Okay night guys," Thomas told them

"Goodnight boys" I smiled giving them a little wave as I unzipped the tent and climbed in instantly going off into the sleeping compartment Thomas climbing in behind me zipping the tent up behind us

"So... how about we have a little snuggle before bedtime?" Thomas smiled as he got changed outside the sleeping compartment while I got into my nightie

"I'm not sure Thomas, all this sea air has made me very sleepy" I admit

"Awwww... Okay, Y/n" He laughed tapping on the sleeping compartment door "Can I come in?"

"Give me a sec," I told him as I quickly got sorted and got into bed under the covers reading my book "Okay you can come in Thomas"

"Thanks, Y/n" He smiled coming in and zipping the bedroom door space as he climbed into bed with me getting under the covers with me in his loose-fitting grey shirt and his blue shorts "So... can I have a cuddle?" he asks

"Okay" I smiled putting my book down and laying my head on his chest it was nice and cosy, his heartbeat calm and sweet

"Y/n?" He said after a while as his hand started playing with my hair

"What is it Thomas?" I yawned

"I love you," He says

"what?" I asked sitting up a little, the twilight outside in the sky, the campsite light still on with the light coming in shining a blue-hued light across his face as he laid under the purple striped duvet on the slightly bouncy airbed

"I said I love you, Y/n," He says "it's okay... I understand Y/n, after everything I understand you're probably not ready to be like that with me" He says

"Thomas, I love you too," I told him giving his lips a gentle kiss

"Ummm... I love you so much Y/n, My beautiful girlfriend"

"Aww I love you too Thomas, you're a good boyfriend" I smiled snuggling back with him closely

"Thomas?" I asked

"Yeah Y/n?"

"Tell me again" I giggled

"umm I love you honey" He smiled giving my head a kiss

"Again?" I giggled

[floralgothpersephone]

Countdown

Sooooo.... several.... um months ago, I was tagged by @jaygirl987  and this has just been sitting in my drafts... forever??? oops. Oh well, I am feeling in an over-sharing mood. So I am going to do it now. Felt confident in sharing, might delete later. Response is below the cut, because we are writing essays tonight. 

Rules: List 1 Insecurity, 2 Fears, 3 Turn-ons, 4 Life Goals, 5 Things I like, 6 Weaknesses, 7 Things I Love, 8 Tags  I am going to tag: @akai-vampire, @claudeng80, @bookloverfio, @bigprincess-energy, @peachdoxie, @ruleofexception, @infinitelystrangemachinex, @anais-mitchell

ONE Insecurity:

---People who meet me for the first time always say I am remarkable. But I don’t really agree with that at all, I still don’t understand where people get that from. I feel very desperately flawed and a moderately dysfunctional human doing my damned best with what I’ve got, and isn’t that just a normal state of being for everyone making their way in this life. And if people say I am remarkable, and it turns out to be true, then does that mean I am not normal??? How is everyone else living their life then? What am I doing wrong??? or right?? or differently??? How do I bottle up this whole remarkable thing and share it with everyone else?? Being called remarkable makes me fear for everyone else. Because if i am struggling this much, and people still seem to think I am amazing then does that mean everyone else who is struggling is failing in some reguard?  I have met so many other people in the world who are just as special as me, and if i am raised above that then what about all those other people? Aren’t they remarkable too? Kinda takes away the meaning of remarkable then, if everyone else is also remarkable. I don’t know. Every time I meet someone new and they call me remarkable it makes my skin crawl. What sort of face are they seeing me wear that makes it happen so often? I just try and be myself, and stay true to who I am in any given moment but then that makes their statement have more power? I hate it. Nothing makes me more insecure. I can go from full blown confidence down to nothing the moment someone says that about me. I know I am odd and don’t quite function right in society, and have a very different perspective on it because of my dysfunction, but that shouldn’t make me remarkable. There are too many other people in this world for me to be remarkable. 

TWO Fears:

---I may never get to see Amber Gray perform Persephone in Hadestown

---Cockroaches. Turns out I have an actual phobia of cockroaches. 

THREE “turn-ons”: 

---Silly Antics, like sheer outrageous, ridiculous things that make you laugh until you cry. Like, I fall in love a little bit with everyone who has ever made me laugh. So like, the more you make me the laugh the more I look at that and go, “mhm tasty”. Also, if we are not laughing at some point during sex then what even is the point??? 

--- Loyalty, Reliability and just being supportive and a good friend. Like, I am very much very very demisexual and while I can look at people and love their look and their aesthetics and be attracted to that, I need a very firm established relationship for like... years, before I am ever actually interested in letting them into my bed. I need some definite proof that they are in this for the long run before I can let my sexuality come into play.  

---Being crafty and creative. Seeing someone make a very nice craft gets me all worked up in ways I can’t quite describe. But every time a partner of mine starts a project and is making things I want to jump their  b o n e s. 

FOUR Life Goals:

---Get my ass to fucking Greece and like. Stay there. For months. And just travel??? And like, take my time, no rushing around to do every single thing. I want to go to these places and be there for so long that I can just sit and be. 

---B a b i e s. Dear lordy if you look at every major decision i have ever made in my life, it has all lead up to the fact that I want to have kids, and I want to have a family in a very specific supportive and stable way and I need to complete these things before i can have my kids. BUT BOY THE HORMONES ARE STRONG AND I WANT THEM NOW. 

---Can I put travel twice? Travel is so important to me. I have to see the world, I need to map it. I need to see all the different types of humans and cultures there are in the world and I need to experience what there is in this life before its all over. 

---I have this home I like to dream about, its constantly changing, but its small, while having enough space to breathe, covered in plants, an entire wall that is just a bookcase to store the entirety of Alex and I’s mug collection (we are looking at least 80 mugs between the two of us currently). A claw foot bathtub in a room full of windows that is just a glorified greenhouse really. comfy reading nooks and places for play, covered in nothing but soft blankets and cushioned seats. A cat or two lounging around among all the soft places in the sun light. Walls covered in cork boards so that I can pin up hundreds of pictures of the family I have built for myself. Little foot steps running around from kids playing, and having my partners home with me to cook and raise the little ones together in a family and a community. I just. I just want that little domestic haven of something calm and secure that I never got to have growing up in my life. 

FIVE Things I Like:

---Pottery!  (my craft of choice, I’ve been making pots for 17 years now and it never gets old) 

---Plants! (I live in a small jungle! I’m a plant witch! I love my plants! They are my only friends some days! But thats okay, I take care of them and in return they take care of me.) 

---Places! (I’m a map maker, I love learning about the identity of a location both on a map and within the human mind. How amazing that a collection of humans create an identity for a geographical space separate from other all the other geographical spaces. That’s wild! I want to learn what makes them all different forever!) 

---Purple! (My hair is purple, its been purple since I started grad school! I flirted with pink hair and orange hair last year to try on different types of variety and see how that fit but I am back to purple and I am back to my normal skin! My purple hair is the source of my internal confidence and a major point of my identity) 

---Music! (I am not sure I  would ever be able to navigate my own mental landscape without the aid of music guiding me through all my different emotions and feelings so that I could have a safe place to experience them without fear of repercussion) 

SIX Weaknesses:

---I over think everything (case and point, this post, whoops) 

---An open opportunity. Like, if I am given an opportunity suddenly that wasn’t previously available and wouldn’t be available in the future, I will move mountains to make it happen. If I see a window to be able to do something with a time limit I am jumpin as fast as I can to get through that window before it closes. I think its because I grew up with zero opportunities in my life when I was little so somewhere in my bones I believe that every opportunity I get is rare and special thing and if I don’t take it now then I won’t ever get another one. Sometimes its exhausting but I can’t honestly say there is a list of things that I could have done that I didn’t? I have very little regrets in that regard. 

---I am willing to see and recognized my flawed personality traits, but rarely ever actually do anything to fix them. I am a big of a believer in accepting yourself with all the flaws (part of the side effects of recovering from perfectionism) but that mentality has a different problem... in which you are so comfortable with the problems that you don’t have any desire to fix them? Yeah.  

---Um, I have a major weakness for brown eyed, brunette girls and have fallen waaaay too hard for too many of them in my life for it to not be a thing (that Alex teases me relentlessly about). Honestly the list is long, but good news. Fiona is on that list. <3

---Potential. I have a weakness for potential, sometimes that manifests in craft materials. (Oh I could make this into this other thing!) So I have quite the collection of crafting hoards. I rarely buy plants when they are big because I am far more interested in getting a small plant because of it its potential to grow into something. I love love love love working in clay because there is just SO MUCH potential for it to become really ANYTHING???? Its amazing!!! Like, if you imagine in there is a way to make it real. And I am obsessed with that feeling. 

--- I have a weakness for cream. I like half and half in my tea. I like whipped cream on my waffles. I like straight up cream on my strawberries. I like clotted cream on scones. I like creamy milkshakes. The creamiest of cheeses. If its a cream based sauce I’m in. Just. Cream. 

SEVEN Things I Love:

I just now realized that there is a difference in the lists for “like” and “love” LOL there is no difference to me. I have no moderation, I either love something with my whole heart or not at all. So lets wax some poetry on things I have already listed, because the things I like I also love. 

--- Okay, pottery, so like, Pottery is amazing??? Because you take dirt!!! like muddy gross squishy dirt!!!! and you mold it into something you like???? And then you FIRE IT!!! Like how metal is that???? You are creating something from DIRT. And on top of that, it lasts FOREVER. like, people hundreds of years from now are gonna be digging up our civilization and our computers are going to be dead, our papers and paintings: dead, our books? Hopefully not dead. But whats going to be left is our city foundations, our places, our trash and our shitty broken pots. And goddamn, I am obsessed with looking around our world and just IMAGINING what these people in the far off future are gonna think. And there isn’t a single piece of pottery that I make in which I am not thinking those exact thoughts and trying to imagine what that person in the future is going to be like when they find this.

--- And on that note, places are just so fricking cool. Because I grew up in a mono-culture where the majority of the population belonged to the same culture and the identity of the place was a direct reflection of the people. But other places have SO MUCH DIVERSITY and I am just amazed and inspired about how you can take SO MANY PEOPLE from SO MANY DIFFERENT CULTURES and pack them all into a city, and then that city becomes its own culture??? and has its own Identity??? Like, New Yorkers, those people come from fucking everywhere on the entire planet, and YET everyone knows there is a New York culture that is just agreed upon? And New York has an cohesive identity to how it functions, and how it works. Just. How amazing is that. And Minneapolis, jeez, bless Minneapolis. Because it has the midwestern identity but its developing one all on its own. And it doesn’t have a National presence yet, so in a lot of ways its just developing its identity for the world and its just so amazing to see all the different ways that people provide input on how they want their city to develop, and with each step it comes closer and closer to a face it wants to display to the world??? Its like, seeing a teenage, trying out who they want to be and developing them self to become a real adult. And goddamnit I want to see Minneapolis into a fully mature Nationally known city. I can’t wait. 

---So plants, are like. The best therapy. Because plants don’t really talk, well okay I think they do, BUT PHYSICALLY, they don’t talk. And so in order to figure out what they need to you have to listen to them in a very different way then humans are used to?? You have to observe, and check-in and interact and just learn about a plant so that you can care for it. And I think thats exactly how humans are too, except we have this obnoxious thing called talking that sometimes make it difficult to actually figure out what is going on down below. Its easy for someone to say they are fine when they really are not. But plants don’t get to say that they are fine. When they suffer they do so silently and while they may want to scream for more water they have to let you know in other ways, drooping, changing color, dropping all its leaves in protest. And thats the other thing about plants too, is that every type of plant asks for help differently? How amazing is that. You have to get to know the plant on an individual level, there is no “one way fits all” fix-it for plant care. You have to know your plant. You don’t have to know all the plants in the world, just the ones you take into your care. And thats just so symbolic for me. And when I am taking care of my plants, I am taking care of myself too. Water for the plants, water for the Becca. Sunlight for the plants, sunlight for the Becca. Extra boost of fertilizer for the plants, extra boost of vitamins for the Becca. And I love my plants, even with their imperfections and wild ways of growing. Sometimes they get a whole lotta attitude in how they grow, and it isn’t picture perfect, but that doesn’t matter. Cause thats my plant! And its growing and thriving and I am so happy that its doing well! It doesn’t need to be the prettiest plant that ever existed. It just needs to live. And damn thats all I need. 

---Purple is just an amazing color. Like everyone has heard the poetry talking about the richness and royalty and the history that the color purple has. But for me? Purple was a color I was immediately drawn to as a kid for no apparent reason but that I liked it. And I was not allowed, because the color purple was Barney colors and my parents were so very concerned that the other kids would torment me (spoilers, the kids found other reasons to torment me, and I was just denied being allowed to wear my favorite color). And then there was the instance of my grandmother, who, lets be honest, doesn’t win any “good grandparent” awards. And she LOATHS the color purple. Just thinks its really ugly. And took every chance to tell me that whenever I went shopping with her or if she wanted to get me a gift and was looking for input. So i went through all these stages when I was little, only being allowed to like pink, but then internalized misogyny said that was dumb so then I chose blue to be my favorite color while completely denying that what I wanted was purple. So yeah. By the time college came around and I was an “adult” (lol) I was just like. Fuck this shit no one can tell me what I am allowed to like and claimed purple for everything in my life. and I mean. e v e r y t h i n g. Backpack? Purple. Every piece of clothing I owned? Purple. Jackets? Purple. ipod? Purple. Does the object come in purple? Yes. Well then that is the correct answer. When I broke down and finally dyed my hair purple (like I have wanted to do since I was little, but again, I was not allowed and can you imagine being a non-mormon kid in the little valley with purple hair in high school??? Fuck I would have been the anti-christ of all sinners.) But in Minneapolis it seemed like it would be far more acceptable and wouldn’t result in immediate social disgrace. So I did it. I graduated my undergrad and dyed my hair purple because I could. And it changed my entire life. No more wall-flowering. No more hiding in the shadows praying no one notices that you don’t quite belong. No more pretending that you don’t exist so that people can walk all over you as they pass by. When you have a wildly different color hair, you have to own it. There is no “oh haha, whoops” about it. You made that decision, you put the color in your hair with that intention. And now its there to stay until you cut it all off. And that was the kick in the butt for me. That was the thing I need to own my own self and to lay claim to my voice. And for a while, it wasn’t easy. It was learning a whole new skillset. And there was definitely a major time span that was just “fake it until you make it”. But I kept faking it for the sake of my purple hair, because every time I looked into the mirror it made me so happy I could cry. I wasn’t looking a the mirror nitpicking my reflection any more. I was just joyful, because my hair was purple and I loved it. So every time someone made a comment whether it was good or bad, I would be dying on the inside from having the attention on me. But I would pull out the big ole grin of joy that I wasn’t really feeling and be like “Yeah isn’t it great! Its my favorite color!” And the good comments would be happy for me, and the bad comments would be thrown off by my enthusiasm and usually go away. And at one point that big joyful grin wasn’t just a farce, and now, 9 years later, working for the federal government and people try and make a jab at my hair, I can just laugh and tell them how much fun having colorful hair is. And that they should give it a try too. 

[ancientbooshartifacts]

Broken Mirrors

Author: Evil_Kingdom

Year: 2010

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Vince/Richmond

Another Night, Another Bar...

Richmond takes a sip from his drink, some fruity dark red coloured drink, hell if he can remember what the name is. He takes a long gulp, shuttering at the after taste of alcohol. He thinks to himself what a weak man he is, far from what others he works with are like. Even Moss is stronger then him, and to everyone that says a lot.

But I thought you liked Moss?....

I do.

But you know he doesnt like you right?....

I know. No one likes me.

Oh dont be so hard on yourself Richie...

Shut up inner thought. Im tired of you being the only one to talk to.

He shakes his head, believing that maybe going out for a bit of air will be the solution to his problem. He gulped down the rest of his drink, places it carefully on the table, looks a round the room to see people giving him odd and funny looks

See? Maybe if you only dressed like them... maybe the would actually like you...

Not you too inner evil thought. Shut up

Richmond gives his head a big shake, then flattens out his long dark hair back into place. He then takes the steps through the crowd of people dancing irratically to the DJ with the toys up in the booth. He thinks to himself that maybe it was a bad day to come to the bar, a day when there is just too many people around. Not that he really minds that there are people around, it just isnt his type of people, so it makes for more awkward moments.

He instantly feels the cold air wrap around him as he pushes open the door. He cracks a small smile, feeling the comfort of a familiar friend

Hello Wind, nice to feel you again

He leans against the cold wall, closing his eyes for a brief moment, trying to collect all his thoughts and feelings.

Maybe I should just go home... Its not like im going to find anyone tonight.

Maybe you will never find anyone....

I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP.

He lets out an exasperated cry, slamming his fits beside him into the wall. Tears start to gather in his eyes as he opens them, looking up into the shine of the moon,

It will be ok Richie, it will all work out soon....

Thanks moon, I can always count on you.

Im the Mooonnn....

Looking out onto the darkness of the streets, he sees gaggles of people, all sorts of people, dancing and being happy, drunk and laughing.

Why cant I be like them? Why cant I have some friends?

Richmond sighs again, standing up a bit straighter, rubbing the scratches on his hands.

No need to be sad anymore. Im better then this, I can get through this.

Being depressed just makes you a stereotypical goth Richie...

Thats right inner thought. And I'm not one to be stereotypical.

Pushing off from the wall, brushing his hands softly over his dark red velvet jacket, he gives himself a smile. Tomorrow will be a better night, tomorrow he will find someone to talk to.

Tomorrow tomorrow...

Richmond stares at himself in the mirror, checking every pore on his skin.

Perfect whiteness. Though I could lay off the sun a bit more, then it would be more perfect.

You know its fashionable to have a tan now a days Richie...

I know. But thats not who I am, I am a confident attractive young man.

Just keep telling yourself that....

Shut up inner evil thought. You cannot ruin my mood today. I am going to go out a meet someone. Just you watch me.

Giving himself a big smile, flashing his clean and white teeth, he applies the final stages of his eye makeup, adding a touch of black glitter to the corners of his eyes making his blue eyes sparkle.

Moving to the closet double doors he looks into rows of reds, deep purples and blues, hints of green, and rows upon rows of black. But at the very end, far back in the walk in closet, you can see a hint of his past, 3 normal suits still hang from bar, still unable to give away the last of the past.

He holds onto them thinking one day, one day, he may actually have the want to try them on, try on what he used to be, what it was like to be the cool guy, the guy with talent, friends, and a job that doesn't include staring at flashing buttons in the basement.

As he grabs his favourite creepers, a pair of black spiderweb socks, and a deep purple button up jacket, he sits on his bed and begins to hum a Cure song, one that he cant seem to get out of his head...

Oh please don't ask me who i am

Or when and where my life began

Or why i ended up like this or how

Standing up he brushes himself off and walks out into his hallway, out the front door, and on to the streets. Walking at a slow pace he watches the moon that sits high up into the night sky, surrounded by little stars, faint to see in the brightness of the cities lights. Continuing down the street, turning left, then making a right, he finds himself smack dab in the middle of bar and nightclub alley.

Now which one shall I pray upon tonight... hmmm decisions, decisions.

You make it sound as if you will have people just throwing themselves at you when you enter the doorway, you do know you will probably drink yourself stupid and wander home, just like every weekend.

Shut up inner evil thought. I told you. Tonight is my night. Tonight I will come home victorious. Gotta be confident, show them that Im a great person.

Richmond smiles to himself, confidence beaming through him like a flaming dagger sword from his heart.

And then he sees him.

The perfect figure of a man.

Gleaming black hair, shiny with product, perfect shape and placement

But not a goth.

Richmond gives a questionable look, heart beating faster in his chest.

Well he is a he...right?

That doesn't change anything, Im quite happy with any sexual preference. Not to say i'm not picky, but love is love you know, it doesn't have a gender.

For the first time in his life, his heart beats fast, quickens his pace, and jogs up to the club, slipping through the door, staring at the slight in front of him

Lights gleam from the ceiling, flooding the crowd with different colours, music loudly playing, but not loud enough to destroy eardrums. Not a bad selection of music, thankfully, Richmond hoping that there wouldnt be an idiot DJ tonight. He searches the club trying to find the man with the perfect hair... Bingo. Right next to the bar, sitting alone.

Here's my chance. Don't fuck it up.

He takes a deep breath, straightens out his clothes, fixes his hair, and makes a casual walk towards the bar.

“One cherry vodka sour please.”

He leans on the bar, trying to be casual and confident, thinking to himself that it probably doesn't look the case, but as long as he doesn't look ridiculous, its all that matters.

Well there he is Richie... go for it..

I will I will. Don't pressure me. You know what happens when I get pressured.

You get all clammy and your voice goes all squeaky and then people stare and laugh at you....

Thanks for the reminder asshole.

Richmond turns and glances towards the man. He makes eye contact, seeing full well the man beside him is staring. His face goes pink, but he can't look away...

“Can I help you? Are you starin' at me for a reason?” The dark haired man tilts his head

“Uhh... ummm... no, I was just looking over, sorry to bother you. I don't mean to make any trouble..”

Youre pathetic Richie. What happened to your confidence?...

“I don't mean to be mean, you don't have to get all defensive.” The man gives a small laugh,

“My name is Vince, Vince Noir, you probably heard about me, I am the king of Camden Town”

The man, Vince, flashes one of the most gorgeous smiles he's ever seen, his confidence clears.

“Umm no, sorry, I haven't heard about you...”

But I would love to..

Richie go for it. Give him something else to smile about....

“My name is Richmond, and I would love to find out why everyone knows you”

Richmond tries to give himself a confidence boost, giving a small cheeky smile, turning back to pay the bartender and grab his drink.

“Would you like a drink? My treat?” Richmond glances over Vince, seeing that he chooses the glam rock style, not something he is used to, but man does he make it look hot. He slowly gives him a once over, looking at his tight shiny shirt, trailing down to his black tight pants...

His eyes linger on his bulge, his perfectly pressed bulge against his pants, perfect...

“Oi mate, eyes up here, k love?” Vince flashes a coy smile, giving a small chuckle

He snaps out of his daze, face going red

“Im sorry, I didnt mean to, I mean I wasnt..”

if your face could get any redder, you would be a tomato.

“I'll take you up on your drink offer, a flirtini please, extra sour” Vince motions for him to take a seat beside him, giving him a cheeky grin.

He returns with drinks, placing his preferred drink in front of him, sliding into the booth beside him.

Now what are you going to do Richie? You cant just get him wasted you know

I know that... Im working on it.

“You alright mate? You arent the drug type are you?” Vince tilts his head towards Richmond, catching his eye, “You look a bit spaced out. I hope im not boring you or nothin”

“Oh no, no... no problem. Im just not used to someone being nice to me, usually I get brushed off quick and that is that” Richmond tries to smile it off, like its nothing.

Vince grins, his hand slowly creeping up Richmond's leg, stopping to grab his thigh. “Good. A pretty boy like you wanted to know about me, so heres how it starts”

Popping the cherry from his drink into his mouth he leans over, hand trailing down Richmond's thigh. His mouth getting ever so close, Richmond feeling his alcoholic breath push against his face, heart racing a mile a minute.

This is it. He is actually into me

Richmond leans forward, opening his mouth, tongue flicking forward hitting the cherry stem, before closing the gap with his lips..

Tonight be all i dream

There isn't any yesterday

Tomorrow starts a day away

This here and now with you is how

Always should always be

This

Here and now

With you

[thedistantstorm]

Phoenix Protocol 02

A Zavala x Female Guardian work.

Summary: When the Traveler’s Light was returned to the Guardians after the defeat of the Cabal, it did not manifest itself the same in everyone. Miyu, an Awoken Warlock, finds herself struggling with her abilities, her Light feeling different and not her own. With her Vanguard preoccupied with grief and all eyes turned to the Reef, she finds herself turning to an unlikely source in an attempt to rediscover her connection to the Light and define what it means for her as a Dawnblade.

[Previously]

Ikora always wants more.

By research, Ikora actually means to discuss Miyu stopping hers. Focusing on more important matters. The Reef. Uldren. Miyu wants nothing to do with any of it, and that is why she had willingly offered her services detaining escapees from the Prison of Elders despite not actually wanting to do that at all.

It gives Miyu time to actually complete some more secretive research on the side: why her Light is messed up. Why it feels like when she received hers back, after the war, it felt like it belonged to someone else, the person she used to be but wasn’t any more, coiling uneasily beneath her skin. She’s gone to Io. The Shard. Both under the guise of hunting escapees, but also to seek answers.

Neither place does and very day, the solar sword is more difficult to grasp, wings of flame beyond her reach. Telling her Vanguard that didn’t work. Ikora didn’t understand. The Void has always been at her fingertips, for as long as she’s been connected to the Traveler. With that in mind, Miyu attempts to adapt her argument, listens to Ikora insisting that she push herself and hopes that eventually either her own efforts or Ikora’s reasoning pays off.

Ikora still demands an answer, though. Wants Miyu to give her something. So, Miyu presents her personal thoughts. Based on her research, she finds that her connection to the Light is strongest while meditating or calling upon her abilities in the midst of a healing rift. Ikora is not impressed. Miyu isn’t expecting her to be. She tells Ikora the truth - that she does not believe offensive maneuvers are her true calling, not anymore. It’s something she’s believed for a while now. She can hear Ghost cheering her on in her mind for being honest - for expressing her opinion. That was rare. Miyu hated doing so, especially when she knew it was going to be an unpopular one.

Ikora, in response, cites battles, strikes, accolades. Ikora always measures a Warlock’s worth in accolades.

Miyu measures a person - Guardian, Human, Exo, Awoken, whatever - in terms of character. Heart. Sometimes she thinks that’s why she just doesn’t fit in with her more intellectual colleagues, aside from not being sneaky and clever like the Hidden or having half the honors or titles that Ikora’s top-tier Warlocks have. Put a sword in her hands and Miyu can cut down almost anyone or anything. But have her infiltrate a group and act a certain way, play a role of some sort? She’ll fail right away.

She is not an actress. She’s a Guardian. And to her knowledge, the definition of a Guardian is someone who protects. There has to be some merit in that, she’s told Ghost, and he - her best friend and most honest critic - agrees.

Ikora - Miyu thinks - must not think much of her. Still, the Void user pulls her back from her thoughts with praise. “Grey,” She says, “You are so much more than you give yourself credit for. You need to push yourself harder. Do not give up. I know you are better than this.”

It’s times like this that she wonders. Does Ikora know what her name is, really? Does Ikora even care? Miyu is beginning to think she’s just a faceless person, a puzzle that is challenging and therefore worth the more esteemed woman’s time. Ikora gave her hardly any face-time before the war, before she had these issues.

Regardless, the younger Warlock attempts to retain her composure. “Thank you. However, I would like to pursue my research on a more defensive Solar ability,” Miyu says, barely a whisper of defiance. “I believe it is possible.”

Ikora shakes her head. “Leave shielding for the Titans. A Warlock’s rift is not meant to protect. It is meant to heal or empower, and only briefly. Attempting to augment it is a waste of Light better spent on dispatching our enemies.”

Miyu sighs, but nods. “What would you have me do, then?”

The Warlock Vanguard crosses her arms, turns her back to Miyu and looks out at the City. “Take the most difficult Strikes and Patrols I can give you. Challenge yourself and you will find yourself calling upon your abilities more. If that does not help you to realign yourself with your Light,” She trails off, eyes narrowing on a fixed point beyond the horizon, “I will explore other paths. Your research is unnecessary at this time. If you require a project, I will send you to collect information from the Reef.”

The younger Warlock bows. “I understand,” Miyu says, schooling her features into something blank, and trying to sound collected and grateful, not detached and indifferent. “Thank you.”  This won’t help. She’s already tried this, Miyu thinks, but tries not to let it bleed into her demeanor.

“You’re welcome, Grey. You may go.”

Miyu turns her back to Ikora Rey, but waits until she is nearly to Banshee’s stall in the main portion of the Tower to let the frustration show on her face, a very quiet growl escaping her. Ghost appears at her side immediately. “I can’t believe she wouldn’t listen to you,” He says, sounding even more irritated than Miyu is. “I’m sorry,” He apologizes to her. “But I think you should keep working on it.”

“So do I.”

Ghost bobs, spinning around her in a wide circle of disbelief. “You do?”

“Yes.” Silver eyes cant over toward her Ghost’s single teal one. “I’ll do what she asks, and continue my research on my own. What else can I do?”

He sighs. “I know. I just wish it had gone differently.” He taps her cheek. “If you could have convinced her to watch you summon your-”

“We asked that the last two times and she refused. It’s okay, Ghost. I’m used to it being just you and me.” She reaches up to cup his small being with her hands, and holds him close. “Sometimes, I think it’s better that way.”

Ghost nuzzles against her abdomen in a return of their improvised hug, and wonders not for the first time if she considers leaving. He knows she doesn’t feel like she belongs here, that she’s trying so hard to fit into the roles dictated by social norms. Most of her fellow Guardians hurt her with their lack of understanding, their taunts. Most of them do not know how it feels to have their Light feel foreign to them. Still, she remains as gentle as she can, does her best to be kind to everyone she meets. It’s no wonder they don’t live within the confines of the Tower. The City folk are far kinder to his wayward Guardian than her own brothers and sisters. It’s a shame.

-/

Three days later, news hits the Tower. Cayde-6's killer has been eliminated. Almost everyone is celebrating. Miyu uses the general population's distraction to her advantage, slipping out to the training grounds recently restored near the base of the wall. There should be free space for her to experiment unseen, a rarity in the middle of the day.

She discards her gauntlets and lets the heavy, flame-retardant sleeves of her robes hang down over her palms. Pulls her sword from its sheath at her side. Ghost flutters around her, cones spinning silently in anticipation a safe distance away. She drops to her starting position, kicks off.

What she does not have in stealth or strength, she makes up with in skill. Some of it, Ghost believes, may have been written upon her from her first life, muscle memory and reflexes allowing her to pick up swordplay far more easily than ever anticipated. But not all of it. She worked hard to hone her skills, consulted archives and videos, took every ounce of criticism to heart.

He enjoys watching her dance throughout the training arena with her blade slashing out, parrying imaginary blows, each move fluid yet moving with unbelievable discipline and precision. However, he knows it will come soon. Can feel the tingle of Light, the increasing heat. She’s going to try without the rift. She always does, first. When her mind is clear, when she’s reached that place of blank-white concentration.

The Warlock sheaths her physical blade in a motion like lightning, before reaching out for the heat in the air, calling upon the Light in her soul to manifest the sword that answers the call of her heart. It always looks so effortless from afar.

It isn’t, though. He watches her throw the first one, scorching the dirt. Watches her call upon the second. Watches the flames spiral up her arm, paying no heed to her robes. Watches her grit her teeth and give form to the energy in her hand. This one doesn’t go as far, doesn’t track like the first.

The third fizzles into ash, blackens her fingertips. She screams, drops to her knees, slams her fists into the dirt. He doesn’t approach. He knows she wants to feel this, to commit it to memory - as if she hasn’t already, he thinks, but allows it to continue - and use it to fuel her. It’s how Ikora believes she will improve. Miyu doesn’t believe in it, but she tries anyway. He knows she’d try anything, to feel like herself again.

This is torture, but it’s therapeutic. She needs to let it out, to blaze, like the fiery powers locked inside her, refusing to come out the way they’re supposed to. The way they always had, before the Cabal had ripped them away by force.

Any changes in her personality, since the war, have been subtle. He notices the way her swordhand twitches after she lets the blades burn through her nerves. Can tell that where she might say ten words once, she now says six or five. Notices that where she’d try to be social once in a while, it takes a great deal of encouragement to convince her to approach a friendly face.

Ghost’s cones push out and then back in, spiraling around him in surprise as someone appears on his radar. Someone approaching, quickly. At a run. Miyu is pushing herself up, the rush of a healing rift spiraling out from beneath her. She doesn’t notice.

Another attempt is made to call upon the sword. She growls and braces her sword hand - gripping her left wrist with her right hand. Flames spit and spiral up both arms this time, fighting for purchase against the healing properties of the rift.

“Mi- Miyu?”

The small AI turns at the sound of the familiar voice. Oh, no.

Next

[purplexflamingo]

" Hey doggie quit it! Stop! Bad dog-- my bones! MINE! 

Give it back, stupid dog!"

Nubbins stumbled around exclaiming, entirely frustrated with the playful pup. She softly growled and tugged at the large bone in his hands. All the ruckus caused Selma to exit the station, generally worried for her animals well being. Only to find herself cackling at the sight. The dog just wanted to play, desperately. Once Nubbins had the bone back Dallas body slammed him. Panting as her excited tail wagged back and forth.

" She just wants to play with ya, thats all, honey. Relax, I'll make sure she doesn't take your bone again."

Dallas just kept staring at him, all attention was on that bone till Selma restrained her. The lanky male pouted and mumbled words she couldn't hear. Treading on his way to god knows where. The boy just wouldn't stay in one spot. His brother would have a fit if he saw him roaming these parts. As she recalled he should be back at the farm.

Dallas whimpered and whined as he left her behind. But soon calmed when provided with plenty of fresh water to lap up. Ruffling her companion's head she went back inside. Back to work she told herself.

" Have ya thought about it, dear? It's tonight ya know. At seven o'clock sharp."

Drayton slaved away preparing the next batch to cook. It was a miracle he never burned a thing, he knew exactly how long to let them cook and when to pull them off the grills. Oh she’d observe him when he allowed it. A majority of the time before the grilling process she was not allowed in the kitchen. 

" Hmm?"

Tying an apron around her waist, she chirped reminding him and well it appeared he was barely listening anyways. Multitasking was a skill he could manage as long as there wasn't talking involved. 

" The church-- that gatherin' I told ya 'bout its tonight ya know. There'll be food and dancin'. Oh and games! Remember now? I told ya last week."

Shifting his attention towards her for a split second. Leaving a pot to boil on the stove. He responded moments later.

" Well, we'll see. I got lots of fixin' to do. I can't make promises right now, darlin’. Oh could you start on them dishes."

As asked she complied and began scrubbing away. Stacking them on the counter beside the sink to dry later.

" It'll be fun....to get out a little bit, yeah?"

She tried to talk him into it, but she wouldn't force him of course. If she did that, it would be a miserable time for both. There was no doubt she looked forward to it, even before his answer. She hadn't been out in a long while other than to work there or at the diner. It was tiring. Constantly having to remind herself to not put her own hopes up.

" I don't know I ain't one for big fancy parties. Church or not."

Frowning she decided to not push the matter, at least she assumed he'd think about it. Just couldn't promise a thing-- as he said earlier. When she finished the first round of dishes she decided to take her break. Reaching for her pup's leash she hooked it to the dog's worn collar. A walk was in order. Dallas deserved it and so did Selma. Not too far, but enough space away from work. Drayton's brother could be spotted not too far from them. He was an interesting fellow, Selma thought him to be  odd-- not in a bad sense. She treated him as she would anyone else. Though she was concerned for his well being. Carrying that knife all the time, his reckless running, he'd give her a heart attack. Even mentioning to Drayton how thin he was. Drayton's reply was always " That boy ain't starvin', never has been. I feed him well, he can't keep no god damn meat on them bones. Always been that way. Don't you go worryin' about him. He's fine!"

With a yank she snapped out of her thoughts.

The dog threw her head back looking at her owner, wide eyed, tongue hanging out the side of her smiling mouth. Eagerly awaiting for direction. 

" Whoa, Dallas no pullin'!"

Calling their walk to it's end, she had gone back to the building once she tied her pup up. It was busier than before, just in time for her to return. This proceed till shops closing. Apparently it was a large order to be prepped and ready for tomorrow morning. Must have been a big event, Selma could along predict. Desperate for the extra cash, this was what they've wanted. It was rare to come by.

----

Eying the clock it had been nearly an hour now since the party started. It was a shame, but there was little to be done about it. She wanted to mention how disappointed she was. Again it wasn't his fault nor was it fair to share such negative feelings. He worked so god damn hard this evening, she couldn't even recall him taking one break. Once she had to force him to, especially to eat. Caught up in all his work he forgets to care for himself. She worried what it was like when she wasn't there. Watching him work, she wondered if she should make him take one again.

" Ah, sorry, darlin'. I've got lots more fixin' to do. You....you go on right ahead, go to that party. I won't force ya to stay any longer. Y-You've done enough help today and I appreciate it. Now go, maybe you can make it in time."

 Drying her hands on a spare towel, she shook her head.

" Nah, I'll stay and help clean up. You must be exhausted. You stress me out sometimes, hun."

" Ain't nothin' business picks up 'round this time of the year. Now hurry on."

A toothy smile given. Brow curved upwards exposing his forehead wrinkles. Reluctant to look her in the eye. Feeling guilty for letting her down. Even if he necessarily didn't want to go. The least her could do was insist she go alone.

" Oh hush, I'm stayin' and you can't make me leave. You're gonna be here hours on end without me. Over workin' yourself till you can't stand no more. Let me bring Dallas in and I'll finish up the dishes first of all."

Pushing the doors open she went through the lobby area of the station to dog proof it. Yawning the dog stretched when being woken up outside and sleepily followed her in before plopping down on one of the floor mats. Returning to the kitchen he still slaved away. She admired his determination and his drive to pursue his dream. It's wonderful to have this as a career. Consuming so much of his foods over the past few months. She hasn't felt healthier. Returning to the sink she turned the knobs waiting for the water to spew. Sliding multiple plates, silverware, pots, pans, anything that would fit inside to soak. Soon shutting the faucet off to not overflow the sink. Slipping her hands into the water as she had all day. Tedious work, but her mind wonders, it was never a bore. Grabbing the wash rag she proceeded to scrub and clean each individual plate. The kitchen was full of silence aside from faint humming on her end. 

 By the time he finished it was eight o'clock. Entirely too late for that event. By now she wasn't upset anymore. Just being here with him was all she wanted. It took sometime to realize this. Arms snaked around her waist reaching into the sink. His body close behind hers, chin resting on her shoulder. It startled her some, her breath caught in her throat. Cheeks flushing. This man was a mystery and she had trouble reading him, she couldn't understand what was happening. Feeling him so close, was very imitate. Leaning her head against his, closing her eyes for a second. His hands helped her with washing. What she felt was far from explainable.  She sworn she felt his lips graze her jaw, kissing her. Flustering her, but she managed to finish her work with his help.

It was difficult when he stepped away, she wish he wouldn't. Standing so close to him was what she'd craved for so long. It was frustrating..

" W-wait one second before ya even try to leave."

Out of the kitchen he went and as asked she stayed put. Looking over the entire spotless kitchen. Proping herself up against the counter. Digits tapping against the wood. Directing her eyes toward the doors he went out of, she could've sworn she hear some noise. Sounding like music. This urged her to go check out of sheer curiosity and she did peak her head through the doors. The old dusty jukebox was lit up and playing at a low volume. Drayton extended his arms.

" Haha-- ain't much, but it's somethin'. Let’s celebrate!"

Putting two and two together she began to understand. It was his way of making it up to her, it had to be. She even spotted drinks at the booth. Bashfully she hid her face, in disbelief. This was fantastic. No one else was around. This was more one on one more than anything else.

" Hun,but you worked all day!"

" C'mere here, c'mere!"

Motioning her near, she glanced down at the floor, and walked up to him. Within a few inches from him he lifted her chin and she was met with a warm expression. Encouraging her to carry on. Both of them cracked open a nice cold beer. It was all that was available here. Selma was not much for drinking, but she made an exception this one time. Almost as if this were a celebration of some sorts. In way it almost was. A way to celebrate a job well done. The night was spent drinking a few cans and having a pleasurable time chatting and so on. When Drayton stood up so abruptly he dragged her to the center of the room. Explaining how he doesn't really care of music these days, but a few old tunes.

The one currently playing was one of his favorites. Then he coaxed her into dancing, the whole time she was laughing her head off and even lost her footing once. Though he was able to prevent her meeting the floor with what strength he had. 

 Hand resting against the middle of her back while the other held hers. From there he guided her and she let him. Taking a moment she got lost in his eyes. Reflecting on all these years, she still loved him. While she shouldn’t, she couldn’t help it. But did he still love her? What was he feeling? Why would he never say? 

 Resting her head against his shoulder, feeling at peace- so relaxed despite those overwhelming questions. She never wanted him to let go. Rising her head she searching his face before moving in for a kiss. Melting away any worries or doubts, if he rejects this then she’d have her answer. For her sake he met her half way. 

They spent the night in each others arms sharing another moment together in the near by booth. 

[skythief]

Analyzing Sheith, with a dash of discourse.

unoriginaltoast

replied to your post

“Cordially inviting any and all anti’s to come at me bro Whether it be...”

Can I just add, that many antis throw around the word "pedophilia" and first of all, that's a disgusting accusation to make of someone imagining FICTIONAL characters in a relationship. And second, it does not apply. Like the literal definition does not apply. Would a 25 year old with a 17 year old be cool IRL? Probably not but it's not pedophilia and it's also FUCKING FICTION JFC. God I wish I had the time to worry about what fictional characters people shipped.

Sorry for that brick I just have been wanting to say that for so long, hope you have a spectacular, wonderful, idiot free day <3

You may definitely add that. I certainly forgot to. 

It really depends heavily on context for that 17-25 thing. It depends on the relationship and maturity levels of the two people in question. I know there are 25 year olds that are still running around this site screaming about “problematic ships” like its the fucking plague. And then there are people in my life who grew up in drug houses, who struggle because their families entire line of poor credit, bad choices, substance abuse and felonies makes it nearly impossible for them to get jobs and basic debit/credit cards, who dug around in dumpsters for food during their childhood-- and you can bet they grew up incredibly fast, and incredibly hard. 

Biology plays a part in it to a degree too-Female brains tend to fully develop ages 16-25? (dont cite me on this, im just going off of memory) and for male brains I think they finish developing around like, 18/22-30??? I’d have to look it up again, but you get my point.

Theres a lot of factors that go into play- The maturity levels of the individuals themselves, and the actually Nature of the relationship itself, I think.

Lets take Sheith, for example. 

We have seen maturity and selflessness exhibited in both individuals; Both of them have had to go through very hard experiences; Keith being an orphan with abandonment issues, yet still carries some incredibly strong morals and a fierce love for people and a desire to protect others.; Shiro has been enslaved, amputated and experimented upon, and forced to perform in bloody, gruesome, arena’s. He’s been through Hell, and still he has retained a sense of calm, patience, and compassion. 

So we know from this that they’re both plenty mature enough-- But what about the nature of their relationship?

Honestly I think this one of the most healthy ships out there for the sheer amount of love and compassion and respect between the two, even without picking apart just how well they compliment each other. 

Again, starting with Keith; This is a highly individualized person that does not like authority. He’s not going to want to feel like he has to explain himself to anyone or meet anyones arbitrary standards; Does not like, and possibly feels threatened by rules and restrictions as that threatens his ability to do his own thing. He makes his own rules for himself and his own personal values to which he will adhere strictly. He’s intelligent, but it’s shown and seen through his actions-- Not explained through word of mouth, and most likely never will be. Trust and abandonment issues, as well as his orphaning, may lead him to difficulties communicating with others, being vulnerable, and expressing emotions or showing weakness, making him a very secretive, private person, that most likely finds both comfort and fear in Isolation. Comfort, because no one can hurt you, and you can sort everything out yourself and have complete control when you’re alone; Fear, because it’s very easy to keep isolating yourself and never stop, even though you want, like, and need people in your life, but may be hesitant to go to them for fear of getting hurt or abandoned, especially if you reveal your softer, more unprotected sides. Keith, as a character, may even be scared of his feelings. 

One of these belongs to every paladin okay, thats all I’m sayin’. 

In conclusion, Keith is a very private, lonely person with a history of trust issues stemming from abandonment and a dislike for authority, making him not the easiest person to get along with.  He needs someone who will have the patience and respect that will allow Keith to open himself up to them on his own highly secretive terms, someone who is open minded, patient, and understanding, in order to understand someone as rare and unconventional as Keith (He’s not exactly going to come with an owners manual or introductory pamphlet y’know?). He needs to feel safe, comfortable, and not judged by a person in order to place so much trust, value, safety and security with them. If someone tries inauthentic, underhanded, or forceful means of manipulating someone like Keith into anything, you know Keith won’t be having it. 

Shiro is kind of the epitome of all of these traits, and we don’t just see him using them to understand Keith, but we see him using them to understand other members of his team as well (like Pidge or Allura). Once Shiro has a good understanding of someone, he waits until an appropriate, non-threatening time arises in order to build his team members up, give them advice, solace, or whatever he thinks they may need that he can give them. He uses a very open, friendly, safe, respectful and non-threatening communication style in order to build up people around him; This is an incredibly rare and beautiful kind of person, imo, at least in Shiro’s case, because we can see how very dedicated he is to doing this, and that he makes it one of his biggest priorities. 

This makes him pretty great for Keith, but there are plenty of reasons why Keith is great for Shiro too.

From episode one, from Keiths very introductory sequence, we see him caring, for and sacrificing for Shiro-- Going out of his way to make sure Shiro is safe at all times, or backing him up; Whether it be in or out of Voltron, Keith is literally Shiro’s right hand man. Keiths love for Shiro is very similar for Shiros’ love for Keith;  It is a respectful, kind, and appreciative, thankful kind of love. It is built on and never runs out of trust, and only seeks to lift the other up, and make sure the other is okay, without breaching any boundaries. 

Shiro, from his iron devotion and love for others, strikes me as the type of person that forgets to take care of himself, in lieu of others and their importance, valuing it over his own. Keith, being a very confident, straight forward, and protective person, is perfect for Shiro in that he can and will make sure Shiro does get the self-care he needs, but without threatening or stomping upon Shiros virtues, or his mission. Shiro, for all his dad-jokes and stereotypes, honestly might need the child harness more than Keith does for his sheer scary-levels of willingness to sacrifice himself, like he means nothing- Or at the very least, nothing in comparison to others. Shiro, just like Keith, doesn’t know when to stop and take a break if others don’t make him/tell him too. And even then, Shiro might not understand or believe it, simply because war and soldier-trauma is like this. 

Shiro needs someone who is confident, straight forward, and strong enough to take care of Shiro as Shiro takes care of others. He needs someone who will be considerate and kind to him when no one thinks to be, or knows to be. He needs someone who will keep a close eye on him and watch and listen for when he’s breaking, when he needs help, whether he knows it or not-- He needs someone who will be aware of just how much Shiro himself may not know it too. And he needs someone who will do this genuinely, authentically, respectfully, and patiently. Issues like these are incredibly painful for both parties to go through, and they may never heal. A spouse who deals with this may have to come to accept this as never-changing, and to do that... Takes so much genuine love and self-sacrifice? It’s both heart-wrenching and beautiful, as it is a gruesome reality. It’s not sexy, cute, or fun-- It’ cold and it’s harsh and to persevere in your attentive care of someone in spite of such hard issues, especially when coupled with things like PTSD, is about as Real as you can get.

The reason Keith fits this bill perfectly? Is because we already see him doing this for Shiro in canon. 

We see it in anytime Keith flings himself into action in order to save shiro, whether it’s well-thought out or not. We see it in his respect, adherence, and boundaries. We see it in how he trusts Shiro to keep throwing himself into battle and come back to him, amidst a respectful but attentive observance of his person, his space, his wishes and his safety. In Keith we see he’s developed his own very deep and respectful understanding of Shiro and how he works, just as Shiro has developed an understanding of Keith-- they both know each others strengths and weaknesses, and give each other trust and patience. 

Like, I really can’t think of a more healthy relationship yo. Fuck ages man, these two are good for each other, these two honestly keep each other sane and safe, and uplift the other, they have a rock solid understanding of the other, and their wants, needs, strengths and weaknesses, and they communicate in succinct, blunt, non-threatening ways build on trust. Even if they disagree or say harsh things to each other (Like Shiro reprimanding Keith for reprimanding Pidge, “That’s not how a team works.”, or giving him criticism. Or Keith pleading with Shiro in his BOM-nightmares.), they do not stay mad or hold grudges, which tells me that they never assume bad intent of the other either, even though it would be very easy to. 

My god like theres so much healthy shit in this ship it’s actually hard to cover everything, they both exhibit so much. 

Overall I really think like the last thing I’m worried about with these two is fucking AGE y’know? Clearly theyre mature enough to take care of each other; Does anyone really think either of these people would abuse the other? Because I certainly don’t. It wouldn’t just be wrong, it’d be completely out of character. Keith and Shiro simply care, value, and love each other too much for that. 

Feel free to add to this, if you’d like.

[priestcatte-blog]

Sini’s Dark Knight story part 4

Sini would now leave the mansion more often, not only to go visit his love in the Goblet, but also to meet with the Dark Knight in La Noscea, to train away from prying eyes several times a week. The Jackals would not like having a broody stranger around the mansion and garden, and the wilderness had much more space and privacy. As per the Knights advice, Sini fought with a simple greatsword now that Bert had made for him, and he was slowly making progress.

It was a truly cheesy name, Dark Knight, Sini thought to himself as he crossed swords with the older Keeper again, but he couldnt think of a better name. The man had told Sini his name by now, Ome'a Molkot, but being mentor and pupil Sini wasn't gonna call him that. And the guy was clad in a blackened heavy armor after all... Sini had asked him once why, and the reply had been: "There are several like me, i know that much, but they don't all look like 'Dark Knights'. That's just a name people made up because it's so ominous and mysterious. And many of us are not much liked either. But i digress... this armors colour is just coincidence, personal preference. Some look like normal Knights. Some look nothing like Knights at all, more like commoners, but that doesn't change what they are and do." Sini already knew what they all had in common, the fight against injustice and the use of the so called 'dark arts', a technique they developed in Ishgard in secrecy. Sini knew that much already, so he didnt have to ask his mentor about that. He had already made some visits to Ishgard, to see the seminarium and learn more about the ishgardian way of priesthood, and at these occasions he secretly looked some of the stories about these 'Dark Knights' up.

He would ask about the Dark Arts at some point, maybe, probably... he didn't plan to yet. For now it was important to simply learn how to fight well with a greatsword and armor. Sini had told him about his first succesful, real fight. It had been on the bridge in lower La Noscea, where Sini and Shin, together with some friends of hers, had to fight off a group of scoundrels who wanted to get rid of her. Among these, Sini succesfully fought and killed a Hyur with a greatsword, an Elezen swordsman and a Roegadyn with an axe. All in teamwork with Shin and her friends of course. Why all Roes seemed to fight with axes was a curiosum that probably would keep puzzling scholars for ages... In any case, this earned Sini the approval and respect of his mentor. Good job and keep it up, the usual words one would expect. But also "Seems i were not wrong with my estimation of you." Well that was nice to hear.

But training would continue further of course, and so it did on this day too. Although Sini didn't seem very concentrated. They were sparring, training moves and reactions, as his mentors sword slammed against the protection on Sini's upper right arm. They lowered their weapons and Ome'a took off his helmet. "Get yourself together, you are not really here, not in the fight with your thoughts! Are you thinking about your sweetheart again?" Sini held his right arm in pain, but a wide grin spread on his lips nonetheless as he thought about Shin. He could hear Ome mumble something about "worst priest...", but Sini shook his head. "No... no, it's not her, actually... we got trouble in our company. Nothing i should share with outsiders..." The older Miqo'te nodded, and gestured him to follow him to the side, where they took a break standing in the shadow beneath a tree. "Yeah, thats understandable... but it eats at you, it seems." Sini leaned his sword against the bark, and rubbed his neck while looking away. "Yeah, well... it's someone i don't have a problem with usually... her name is Thya. You fought with her in the job you gave us." He nodded again, remembering. His interest was peaked. "Ah, yes... i do remember her. Fights similar to me, i am quite curious how she learned the arts... but it's not that which worries you, right? You knew about that." "Yeah... you cannot miss it when fighting with her, and i did. But no... it's something else. I just... i won't talk about it. But i feel like i cannot trust her anymore. For Reasons i cannot disclose. And that makes everything... complicated of course... I still have to work with her. Wavering trust is a problem, but i see no way how this can be solved easily." "Hm... yeah... thats bad..." The old man sat down, his armor creaking a little. He flicked his black furred ears and looked back to Limsa Lominsa, the cityscape visible in the distance. They fell silent for a moment, with only the sound of the wind and the sheep grazing nearby reaching their ears.

"I will be honest, i don't know a simple solution either. Or any advice. It's a shitty situation, but there's no help beside her regaining your trust. However she could accomplish that, i don't know the details..." Sini sighed, running a hand throuhg his grey hair and sitting down with his back against the tree. "I know... i will figure something out." Ome'a suddenly grinned, and looked back to Sini'to. "Heh, i was gonna say, i can maybe give you something to distract you from that. But i guess you have plenty of distraction with your sweetheart already, whenever you want." Sini smiled again. Yes, he had been very happy lately, before the thoughts about Thya and her family clouded his mind, but it had been pretty obvious still. And it was a nice feeling to see when people were happy for him. "But i am a curious sort... you can still show me. What did you have in mind?"

The old man reached for something under his armor, a little bag that he seemingly always had close to his body. He opened it and took a small black crystal out, adorned with a golden symbol. It was fitting into his palm perfectly. "Do you know what this is?" Sini straightened up a little, raising his brows. "Yes... that's a soulstone, no? I heard they are pretty rare. But i read about them. That little symbol differentiates it from a gem." Ome'a nodded. "Yes, smart one. It's my soulstone. I got this one from my master, the one who picked me up from the brume after my mother died and trained me. He got it from his master and where he got it from, i have no idea. I assume some Knights just started to make these, like other soulstones that are around, to pass them on. Like we do with our art. Master, apprentice, master, apprentice, and so on... So you know what it can do." Sini leaned forward, inspecting the stone curiously. He nodded slowly, hesitant. "Yes... i assume it could allow someone to learn your dark arts, as you called them... i have spoken with Thya about it once. She said it's a dark force inside you, that you can harness to empower yourself, but you have to be careful... the price to pay is an internal struggle. She called it a voice in your head, that speaks to you and wants to make you do things, or even take over herself... but then again it's not really just some voice, it's still you. It's another you, but still you. Part of you. She said it's hard to describe..." "Hmm, yes..." The black haired keeper held the small stone up betwen his index and thumb, tilting his head a little as he watched it. It was slightly heart shaped and deep black, like the purest Onyx Sini had ever seen, the light shining on its polished surface. "That's one way to put it. I also heard it does differ from person to person, and manifests differently for different people. She is right, it's nothing from outside, it's all you. So you don't need to worry about that, you don't get a voice in your head. It is like... urges and desire. You know? We all have urges, but of course, we don't just give in to them. We are civilized, we know what we can do and what we better shouldn't do. We fight our urges. It is like that, just stronger. Go ahead, bash that guys face in. He deserves it! Make him pay. Who cares about the people staring? Just let him feel the pain, pay him back tenfold, nay, hundred! Like that. For example."

He was very calm as he talked about it like that, and Sini watched him with a frown, not sure what to think. "You can control it. You learn that. It's not much different then than controling our daily urges. It's just when we tire and slip that it gets dangerous. If the urges take control of us, if we go and bash that guys head in, we have to live with the consequences. But... the powers it can grant are very, very useful... you might have already seen some of the things one can do with it from your friend Thya." He held it out for Sini, looking him straight in the eyes. "You'll have already guessed it by now, i want to give it to you. I had an apprentice once, but he died, and now im old and dont want to go through that again, and i dont know if i would even live long enough. But you are smart, you are capable, and you can make good use of the things i show and teach you. You're not a warrior, but a mage... you have to learn to fight, but the powers and magics you will learn with this stone will be much easier for you, i am sure. You are smart, you can figure it out. And i figure using the magics the dark arts grant will be very useful for you. You can, no you must incorporate them into your fighting. That's what makes a 'so called Dark Knight' much better than any other ordinary fighter. You could use magical shields, for example. But as said, you'll prolly have seen from your friend what else it can do..."

Sini was staring at the stone with a frown. He was clearly hesitant, reaching out but not taking it yet. "I don't know... Thya said there's no going back." Ome'a shrugged. "That's true, i guess. I never tried. But yeah, i guess think good about it. Go ahead, you can take it, it wont just go and imbue you with scary dark powers. It won't do anything unless you concentrate on it." "You don't need it anymore?" "No... it literally only teaches you. It's filled up with... the experiences of its former bearers, to say it in lack of a better description. I can't describe how it works, but you can learn with it, things just seem to come to you naturally with it. I already know everything, i know how to use the Darkness. You don't need to stone for it, it just shows you how. And i will give it to you anyway, if you decide to learn it or not. I'm old, as said, and i rather give it away before i die somewhere and it gets lost. Even if you don't use it, you can give it to someone else." Sini nodded and sighed, reaching for the stone and taking it. It felt cold in his hand, and smooth, not different to any other gem. Unconsciously, with his other hand he reached for the glas encased pieces of topaz that were hanging on a chain around his neck, a gift made by Shin. They were the broken remains of the gem with which he always had summoned his carbuncle Puff, since his childhood. Symbol of his lifelong practised arcanism, that was failing on him now and again lately.

He nodded to the old Knight and closed his fist around the soulstone, his voice steadfast. "Alright. You are entrusting me with something important to you. I thank you, and promise to make or find good use of it. I apprecaite it."   The other keeper smiled faintly. "Heh. Well... thanks for taking care of my legacy, so to say." He got up and stretched, holding his back like a typical old man. He looked back to the City in the distance again, and Sini swore the Knight even got a bit melancholic. "It's a chain of tradition that goes on and on, and should be kept going...keep the art alive and all that. It's like life, really. Old teach the new, things get passed on from generation to generation, and so on and so on..." He gazed out into the distance and fell silent, and Sini could only imagine the things that probably went through the old keepers head. What if his life had taken different turns? What if he had grown up in the shroud instead? What if he, instead of leading a vigilante life, had settled down and got a family? Who knew, who knew... what if, could have been, all that didn't matter in the end... Life was what it was right now, and none of us could change the past. Ome'a chuckled and shook his head, probably thinking just the same as Sini right now.

He took his helmet and put it back on his head. Now he was the image of a Dark Knight again, gone was the old man, hidden beneath a blackened suit of armor and only for few to know. "Heh. Thanks again. See you around next time. And don't die, alright? Would be a shame. Your sweetheart would be sad." With that, he strode off, towards Limsa Lominsa, leaving Sini behind underneath that tree. The grey priest in a training suit of armor followed the Knight with his gaze until he was out of sight, sitting there and pondering.

[dietcoachesofamerica]

Were told that sugar is the source of all evil, but giving it up made me grumpy, skint and antisocial

Day 1: I spiralise a courgette

I wake up alarmed and dehydrated with a deep sense of dread. This is not just a hangover I have agreed to give up sugar and keep a food diary. All I can think is: Thank God Im starting today as yesterdays would have been truly embarrassing. Crisps. KFC. Vodka.

Its not my fault. I am clearly not an adult capable of making informed choices. So I resemble most overweight and overwrought people. My fat and my sluggishness are not a mystery to me: I eat and drink too much and my January was not dry.

Sugar is the source of all evil, so much so that a sugar tax is now being mooted. But how easy is it to give it up? I call a man who is going to help me, and I make a cheese omelette Im not sure what I can eat, but assume it is a low-carb diet, so this will be OK.

I arrange to meet personal trainer Nyambe Ikasaya for advice. He has and Im getting technical here a lard testing machine, and Im too lardy. Also dehydrated. I explain about the vodka. He points out this is not the result of just one nights drinking. He gives me what he calls a nutritional protocol and what I call a diet.

Things I cant have: bread, booze, carrots really? and all fruit. I dont care about the fruit. He asks me what I want to achieve, and I enjoy whinging on to him.

At home, I begin reading books about detoxing and giving up sugar. You know how they go: three or four days in, most people feel terrible and then suddenly brilliant. This is the detox narrative. Mostly, they seem to be written by 20- or 30-something women who apparently believe they are what they eat and who dont seem to have to feed anyone but themselves. Maybe my terrible attitude is toxic, but few of these books speak to me at all.

Apparently I should have cleaned out my cupboards of all the bad food and freshly stocked them. But I havent done this because: life. I buy lots of vegetables and order my teenager a takeaway while I spiralise a courgette. Someone says on the news that its Blue Monday. It certainly is.

Illegal foodstuffs just a few of the banned items. Photograph by Felix Clay Photograph: Felix Clay for the Guardian

Day 2: Giving up sugar means giving up my social life

Im very confused about everything. Am I trying to lose weight or merely go cold turkey (apparently permissible as it is lean protein) on my sugar addiction? Or is this, in fact, the same thing? All advice on giving up sugar ends with a similar testimony: Incidentally, I lost two stone, got glowy skin and my entire life was better. Sugar ages us as well as making us obese, they say. Willpower is no match for the food industry and we are sold more and more detoxes. Also, I am very confused about breakfast. I never normally want it but have been told its better to have it than not. But not coffee. Have mushrooms got sugar in them? Apparently I can have a few.

It seems to me I am doing a modified Atkins diet. Not so high in fat and dairyish, which is good as that made me feel dreadful. I have to go to a meeting so I take some smoked salmon and avocado with me to avoid an illegal sandwich. It goes to mush in my bag and tastes only of foil.

This diet requires me to plan all my meals. Do I seriously have to read all food labels? A bit of mustard with my steak is surely not the end of the world? I cook separate dinners for myself and my family. Well why not, as I have cancelled going out. Giving up sugar means giving up my social life as I am not one of those people who can stand around with a glass of sparkling water pretending this is just what they have been looking forward to ALL DAY.

Sour dough Moore, breadless. Photograph by Felix Clay Photograph: Felix Clay for the Guardian

There are now competing voices in my head: This is the most self-indulgent thing you have ever done. Why can you not look after yourself properly and see that cutting down sugar makes sense health-wise?

Is sugar an actual drug? Does resisting it make you morally superior? I just dont know.

Day 3: I dont want to sit there with freak food

Been sticking with it but tonight, I have to cook dinner for family and friends. I need to be able to eat the same stuff as everyone else as I dont want to sit there with freak food. I get around this by not having rice, but inevitably I go on about it. My eldest, who is fit and health-conscious says: Mum, I have a friend doing this. It is just really boring. Explaining to other people what I can and cannot eat and how sugar is in everything is, I realise, not a dazzling topic of conversation.

Day 4: My mind is full of information about the curing of smoked salmon

Terrible nights sleep. I feel anxious and have to go to the loo, a lot I have never drunk so much water. Eat leftover salmon for breakfast. Do some light exercise: stretches, step (horror) and weights. Nyambe teaches me some stretches for my lower back pain while I spaff on about seeds.

These stretches are a revelation and Im happy to learn them. Really helps. But my mind is full of information about food, about sugar, and the curing of smoked salmon. My mental space is crammed, because essentially all diets make you preoccupied with food. I want a break.

Day 5: Its all so dull that I go to a shop and try on clothes

Slept 10 hours. Think about how much money I have already spent. Organic salmon. Steak. Sea bass. Parmesan. This is a very expensive protocol . Go to a Turkish cafe and the woman offers me hummus and all sorts, but I order an egg salad. She brings it over and says: Darling, I made it nice for you. I put pomegranate in. You know? I do know, and this is where I differ from some of the low sugar gurus. I dont decline it or scream: Get behind me, you Sugar Satan. I just think a bit of pomegranate wont kill me. Likewise, the rogue lentils that have also found their way into the salad.

In any case, its all so dull that I go to a shop and try on clothes. Another unrewarding thing.

Day 6: Meet friends in a pub and drink water. My life is basically over

What I crave is not sweetness per se, but texture: doughiness, crumbliness, softness. Meet friends in a pub and drink water. My life is basically over.

Juiced no OJ is permitted. Photograph by Felix Clay

Days 7-8: I google the carb value of capers. FFS

Two days have blurred into one. I bump into people and talk about tomatoes. What have I become?

My personal trainer Nyambe is constantly supportive and realistic, which is great. The books are strict and hard to relate to. He is the opposite. I am eating a lot of eggs but have given up proper cooking altogether. Spend a fortune in the health food shop. One day I have stomach cramps. Is it because of the protocol.

My middle daughter says she is going to move back home as her flatshare situation is precarious. Dont worry, she says, I can cook for you all the time. I havent the heart to tell her this is well-nigh impossible.

One evening I google the carb value of capers. FFS. Still unsure about demonising of a whole food group. Sins, points, values, forbidden foods. Still, I have stopped snacking and opening wine when making dinner.

Day 9: Gin is the way forward

Fall off the wagon in a Spanish restaurant that does the most amazing gin and tonics. Decide that gin is the way forward as I genuinely dont care about food. Just order a courgette flower and more gin. This strikes me as a brilliant way to eat. Not the epiphany of a Gywneth, and God knows it costs a fortune, but at least its not quark.

Day 10: I have lost a couple of kilos of fat

Spectacularly hungover and I have to get weighed. I have lost a couple of kilos of fat. So, if weight loss is the measure of all things, then somethings working

Days 11-12: Eat celeriac

Go to Copenhagen for the weekend. Drink wine and eat celeriac, which they seem to put in everything. But I dont go mad.

Day 13: I reach for the prosecco

Do go mad. We are burgled and fined on the same day in Denmark. (Thats another story). We lose our laptops and all our valuables. Fly home stressed and, once there, I reach for the prosecco. Find some horrible chocolates that no one ate at Christmas. Have an out-of-body experience as I watch myself shovelling them all in.

Day 14: I have lost more fat and increased muscle

Explain all this to Nyambe as I have another check in. The weekend has not ruined everything, though, as I have lost more fat and increased muscle. This is heartening; there is no way I can live sugar-free full-time.

Day 15: Life is too short to stuff a lentil

Reflecting back. Yes it is possible to give up sugar but, for me, it required too much planning and it is very expensive. Carbs are cheap and everywhere. Clever cooks may be able to do this on a budget, but life is too short to stuff a lentil. Such an attitude may well shorten my life. Right now I dont want to be cooking separate meals from my family. It feels antisocial, and I dont want to stop my teenager eating an entire food group. I dont think I have ever spent so much on food just for myself.

Forget it pasta is verboten. Photograph: viennetta/Getty Images/iStockphoto

Looking back, perhaps I entered ketosis (where the body burns fat) after a few days. This state is described with almost religious reverence by the low-sugar/carb crew. Certainly, I had no ecstatic experience, except a flattening out of appetite. But while you might stop caring about food, being on a diet still takes up a lot of mental activity.

Do I feel better? Yes, actually, and here is the bit where Im meant to say its all down to stopping the sugar poison. But what I feel has made the difference are the stretches and bits of exercises Nyambe has taught me.

For all of my tussling, this experience has acted as a brake on my bad habits. How long will it last? Certainly, I realise we all need to eat less sugar and that even natural sugars (such as honey, agave syrup and fruit) are still, in the end, just sugar.

But, no, I cant imagine my life becoming sugar-free its too difficult and dull. Instead I will try to cut down, without boring on. Cutting carbs/sugar is helpful at my age, when going through hormonal changes, as it levels your blood sugar spikes. Likewise losing fat and building muscle. Otherwise a lot of this is surely about calorie restriction. The weight loss bit is the sweetener of a no-sugar regime.

For this to be more achievable we need a fundamental rejigging of food pricing, or a different understanding of what percentage of our income we spend on food. Processed food is full of sugar, and its cheap. Carbs bulk out everything, even ourselves, in the end. Food is everyday and special, fuel and celebration. Our skewed relationship with all of this is unhealthy. Mine is, for sure. But its not just me, is it? This is not just about my sad struggle with a courgette flower A workable, affordable diet that is not downright antisocial is now the thing I crave most of all.

Foods forbidden by the diet:

Sugar; alcohol; ready-made meals; bread; pasta; juice; sugary drinks such as Coca-Cola; Fanta; lemonade; Pepsi; fruit, cakes, prepared meats such as ham, salami, sausages, pâtés; honey, canned foods eg chopped tomatoes; prepared salad dressings; prepared sauces; prepared soups; jam; carrots; potatoes; sweet potatoes; peas; pastries; cereals; dried fruits; instant gravy; sauces; pies; puddings; biscuits; smoothies, flavoured yoghurts.

Read more: www.theguardian.com