#I was overexcited at the concept and had too many ideas | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

millylotus · 1 year ago

Text

I've also noticed people tagging Duke & him just straight up not being in the fic/post it's so annoying! Anyway I have a "couple" recs

---

Duke Thomas and His Magical Magical Sunshine Hugs by the_dreary_fandom_whore

“Do I…really hug you guys that much?” “The amount of hugs you give in only a day is insurmountable.” So here’s the thing. Duke Thomas is a cuddler. He’s not a cuddler like Stephanie who pounces on people at impromptu times with her overexcited affections and extreme strength. He does not hug or cuddle like Dick who only knows how to wrap people up in extravagant and impactful hugs that drain every bit of breath from their lungs and makes them feel happy for as long as they last. No, Duke’s hugs are gentle and caring and magical.

Fic isn't really from Duke's perspective but it is nice to see Duke from everyone else's perspective. Kinda leans into the sweetheart Duke thing.

---

How to be Brothers with the Family Cryptid - a guide by Duke Thomas by sunlitlemonade

A series of fics that follow Duke and Jason as they become brothers.

A series of three oneshots, mainly from Duke's perspective. Very sweet to see Duke having a healthy relationship with Jason.

---

the early robin gets the worm by deargalileo

bruce loves all of his children equally. its just when he has to wake them up, that there's an issue. aka; the five times bruce tries to wake up his kids, and the one time that he doesn't.

Duke is part 3, it's short but sweet but I like it.

---

Can I sleep with you tonight? by LiaVid0921

Bruce thought he had grown out of hearing those words. He forget that he had a few more kids still in the nest.

Duke & Damian get scared & cuddle up to Bruce. So cute & sweet

---

Moth to a Flame by professorwho26

Duke and Damian are experimenting with Duke's light powers when they run into (literally) a curious person. Could it be love at first light? I'm so sorry for that pun. This fic was inspired by this post: POST

A fic from the one time when people started shipping Duke with a moth cause he glows. Genuinely pretty sweet

---

signal, n. a divine act by britishparty

The halo gets brighter the more people that Duke saves. He’s pretty sure that’s how it works, at least. He inherited it from his mother the day the doctors suggested it as a possibility: we may not be able to help them, Mr. Thomas. Duke doesn’t know what he is. He doesn’t feel like an angel; he has no divine purpose, no holy weapons, nothing but this stubborn light. But he looks at Robin and some part of him thinks I could do that, too and the halo, deep in his blood, sings. - or: an AU concept in which Duke's powers stem from the 10th metal: pure celestial possibility. he inherits a halo that has its own idea of Good and Evil.

I like the writing of this fic it's all poetic & stuff.

---

It All Started On A Cold Winter Morning by Varmint

When he had first opened his door up on the cold morning, he certainly had not been expecting a blast from the past; much less had he expected to find himself wrapped up into the familial drama of a bunch of people he had no real ties to half a country away. He wasn't about to lie to himself, though. It was real nice being around a big family again; no matter how many arguments broke out between them. Or. That story in which events are set into motion unexpectedly and when the Batfamily figures out about Bruce's budding feelings for a handsome cowboy, they force everything into high-gear.

Not technically Duke-centric but he is the main focus of the first chapter. Also it isn't complete & a rare pair of Bruce x Greg Saunders, actually really cool.

---

you can ebb and i can flow by konan_konan for Pseudonymous_Elusa

“What’s your name?” "Batman," he startles when Duke laughs louder than he really meant to. “What kind of a name is that?” he giggles, wiping a stray tear from his eye. "Isn't that an animal?" or: bruce saves a helpless merman and gets bullied relentlessly for it. Batfamily Week Day 5: KING’S GUARD Fantasy AU | Friendship/Team Bonding | “There’s more of you?!”

Mermaid!Duke ends up Kidnapped and Batman comes to help him. It's a sweet hurt-comfort with some superbat on the side.

---

Duke Thomas VS The "Good Child" Stereotype by PepperSoniRoni

5 Times Duke Tried To Prove To Bruce He Wasn't The Responsible One, and 1 Time His Siblings Knew Better (& used it to their advantage) Because Duke is relatively new, he hasn't opened up completely to the family. He tries to follow Bruce and Alfred's rules, but he doesn't always succeed (nor try to). It's during these times Bruce still manages to pin the blame on someone else. His siblings, of course, see this. And whatever are they supposed to think? Well, Duke's clearly doing it on purpose! (This is really just me being salty about fanon characterization, and an attempt to cram as much Crazy-Totally-Not-Sane-Duke as I can into a single fic)

Really funny fic of Duke pulling the most outrages of pranks. Actually kinda made me smad at the end cause Bruce never did fully believing Duke.

---

signaling home by jcp_sob_rjl_lmep

Quietly, he trudged towards the main Cave, keeping alert. At a sudden noise, his hand twitched towards his kama, but it was just a bat screeching far above. As he reached the main area, he slowed, tucking himself behind a convenient stalagmite. Three figures stood in the desolation of the Batcave - Duke was still fairly far away, but he could still recognize his older brothers. Jason stood farther away from the duo of Dick and Tim, twirling a gun around one finger. Dick’s arms were crossed, and he was looking down to talk to Tim, who was crouched to look at something on the ground. A pebble shifted under Duke’s foot, and he looked away for a second. When he looked back, all three heads had shifted unerringly in his direction. Well, fuck.

A funny little oneshot of Duke dimension hopping, it's weird & funny & Duke is having a... time.

---

Yellowman by unstablequeerbitch

Basically Duke scares people because he fights during the day in gotham. that isnt normal

Duke's day time wandering scares the shit out of people, funny short one.

---

As you can tell I was very anxious for someone to ask for Duke Thomas recs. He is our sunshine boy & he deserves to be appreciated.

Absolutely wild to me how people will write Duke out of stories and give bits of his character to other members of the Batfamily. I've seen this happen the MOST with Tim. And it's not a crime to write a fic without Duke in it— not every piece of writing needs every member of the Batfamily in it— but come on. Sometimes it's so painfully obvious that authors are only excluding him.

Anyways <3 please comment or reblog with your favorite Duke Thomas fics so I can kiss you

#duke thomas #duke thomas centric #dc #dc fic rec #duke thomas fic rec #fic rec

80 notes · View notes

mandareeboo · 4 years ago

Text

SU Music Rankings

Bc I can and I wanna start some Disk Horse rip. These are all in order of preference, with explanations, etc. It’s a long bitch. That said, I’m not counting little short jingles or small joke songs like Little Butler. This is the meat and potatoes of SU music- just under 30 songs. I might do the rest if people like my takes lol.

I scored it mostly on three bases- how dear it was to my heart, how much/often I relisten to it, and also what it means to the plot. That said, little fun songs don’t automatically go farther down than big, plot-heavy songs either! It’s a strange little balance.

Special Note: I don’t dislike any of this music! I love SU and that includes its bumps and glitches. I just pick favorite children lol.

1.) Change

Was there ever a more Steven moment than when he wiped the blood off his face and kissed it into sparkles? I think not.

If “Be Wherever You Are” is an ode to young Steven, then this is teen Steven’s. Talking about change, and how much and how little it can do. How he holds his arms up for Spinel to hug him, so trusting. How he seems able to just. Break into soft tears at will, and not to be manipulative- it’s just his kind nature. The warmth in his voice. Fuck yesssss.

2.) Change Your Mind

This song is only fifty five seconds and it’s EVERYTHING to me. It really felt like someone was speaking the words I’d always held deep inside of me, unsure of how to say. It feels like a goodbye to someone who never really loved me.

As much as I enjoyed Future, if this was the finale of SU, I would’ve been perfectly okay with that.

3.) Drift Away

This song gave me legitimate shivers the first time I heard it, and it still haunts me to this day. Spinel stayed, and waited, and all she got was a transmission thousands of years later. Fuck.

4.) Here We Are In The Future

THE MOVIE IS SU AS ITS BEST AND I WON’T BE SWAYED ON IT. Steven being a teen who loves his weird family but is growing just a bit sarcastic to their drama. The adorable love he and Connie share. His slow realization that he will always be working, always have things to do, is both somber and real. The Crystal Gems won’t be safe with one epic battle. They’ll be safe with years of hard work and love. HIS LITTLE HANDSHAKE WITH AMETHYST.

This is a helluva bop and a great way to summarize the main character’s backstories.

5.) Let’s Only Think About Love

Did ya’ll know that Zach Callison killed his throat with that last note? He gave his all for this performance in a vocal range he no longer comfortably do and by god did it SHINE. The FLAIR. The FORESHADOWING. All of the Gems all being awkward about Rose and Steven trying to bring them to the present. Peridot having a mini-existential crisis in a cute yellow dress. I love Zach Callison’s normal singing voice but man is that a fucking bop. Nothing will ever beat it.

6.) Here Comes A Thought

This bad boy helped me out a LOT with some mental issues I was dealing with in high school. I was unmedicated, unsupervised, and full of anxiety. I’d have break downs when I tried to speak about certain things. I couldn’t function. This song inspired me. It helped me feel okay with my intrusive thoughts.

And the episode! -chef’s kiss-. Once again bringing up the morally gray area of training child soldiers. Connie expanding her social group. Steven’s trauma hauling ass in that second half. The ANIMATION. Stevonnie’s gorgeous singing voice. GOD yes.

7.) It’s Over Isn’t It?

Just barely squeaking above Stronger Than You, this ballad is everything gorgeous. The whole episode is. I think Mr. Greg stands in the top five of my episodes for the entire show. It even got nominated!

There’s just so much about this song that I love. The gentle melancholy of Pearl’s voice. How the crew had to redo the shots for this bit bc Deedee went so fucking hard. The hard cuts between Pearl, remembering the love of her life, and Steven, who has begun to feel like he took her away. I’d recommend this song to anyone, regardless of what they do or don’t know about SU, simply bc it tugs so many heartstrings of love, loss, and responsibility.

8.) Stronger Than You

Did you realize this episode aired SEVEN years ago? This bitch was what got me into SU! Hearing about Ruby and Sapphire made my little gay heart so happy inside, and then getting a whole song confirming that they were a couple, that their love powered the strongest Gem on the team? Aaaaaaaaa

To this DAY I get excited when I hear Estelle start singing. This song is timeless. This song will live in media history. God I fucking love this song.

9.) Other Friends

I’m not the biggest musical person, so I hadn’t heard of Sarah Stiles before her casting as Spinel, but JESUS CHRIST the lady went hard. She went SO fucking hard. Sarah Stiles started on 100 and somehow just kept CLIMBING. You can just hear the sheer manic energy building in her voice, the anger and resentment. 10/10 Sarah Stiles is a queen.

10.) Independent Together

This made the list entirely bc the crew was like “you’re gonna get a himbo ass Steven-Greg fusion singing with Opal while Garnet flies across the moon on Lion while floating” and I am forever thankful to them for it

11.) Who We Are

Bismuth deserved more songs. ‘Nuff said.

12.) Peace and Love (On the Planet Earth)

It Could’ve been Great is EASILY one of my favorite s2 episodes. I love the entire concept of this song. Of Steven making music to reflect how much Earth means to him and his family. Of him teaching Peridot some self-care. Also Peridot’s singing voice is really cute and squeaky.

I know it’s silly, but I would’ve really enjoyed a flip around of this in Future! Like Peridot reminding Steven how much he loves music, that he needs to take time to relax for himself, maybe with a new verse or just a remix of the original song!

13.) Something Entirely New

I watched this episode as it aired, and I legitimately almost cried. I love Charlyne Yi’s voice so much ya’ll- her raspy, not perfect singing voice against Sapphire’s deep soothing lull is great.

And to have Ruby and Sapphire’s meeting be the way it was- for Ruby to bemoan Sapphire losing Homeworld, to being stuck with a single Ruby, while Sapphire is a noble who has always been taught everyone in her “caste” is vitally important (and has, in her own mind, taken that to mean every Gem, as she should) and how they come together and make each other happy. Good shit good shit.

14.) I’m Just a Comet

The fact that Greg’s music career never really blasted off pisses me off to this day bc Tom Scharpling’s voice is fucking BUTTER. Also the song really feels like a jab at his parents now that we know the kind of dynamic he had growing up. “This life in the stars if all I’ve ever known” is definitely him wiping away their existence after reminding them (and himself) the things they used to say about him.

15.) Do It For Her

This episode. This fucking episode. This episode got me permanently hooked on SU. I’d just binged season 1 and was kinda meh about it overall after the bop of Stronger Than You. “Oh,” I thought to myself, foolishly, “I’ll probably just casually watch this from time to time.”

Like three days later Sworn to the Sword aired and that was it. I was hooked! Pearl’s gentle training song turning darker and darker, Connie’s accompaniment from nervous to determined to fully into such a toxic mindset. The fact that SU had the BALLS to discuss the repercussions of training child soldiers, now and later. This episode was everything to me, STILL is everything to me.

Six years and well over 100 fanfics written later, I think it’s safe to say this show swallowed me whole and never let go.

16.) System/Boot.pearl_final(3)

I debated putting this on the list because it’s not anything crazy important, just a way to show things are Wrong, but I had to do it entirely bc Pearl is so damn SALTY.

Like telling us about the Gems makes sense, she felt like she was given a duty, but she went so damn petty. WHY is that Ruby alone. Gross. This Amethyst is a trash dump. Wtf are you people.

17.) Full Disclosure

This episode really feels like a turning point for SU. Before, the show had its dark moments- but now we’re in the thick of it, and it’s not going away. Full Disclosure felt like an rebuff to the idea of returning to any normal we’d established in season 1. Gems are actually a giant species now. Gems tried to kill us now. There’s this Yellow Diamond bitch who got namedropped. Something about a Cluster.

The song itself is BALLER, with its ingenious use of Steven’s ringtone and photos as he tries to decide whether to clue in Connie on all this nonsense. Meanwhile we, the audience, already know damn well Connie about to yeet some common sense into him.

18.) What’s the Use of Feeling Blue?

I’mma admit it- I’m a Yellow Diamond stan. I’ve always loved her- her anger, her poise, her hardworking nature. I actively argued against the “Yellow Shattered Pink” theories back in the day. But, man, when this arc leaked? I got so overexcited I was too jittery to watch it for like two days. It’s easily my favorite arc of the series. The sheer alien nature of the zoo, the Famethyst, and absolutely Patti Lupone’s beautiful ballad. Goddamn. Yellow singing to Blue to try and help her regain her old status, the warble in her voice as she reminds Blue she misses Pink too, the movement of the bubbles as she talks about attack. It gives me shivers to this day. FUCK.

19.) Tower of Mistakes

This is, fun fact, that only SU song I have completely memorized. The story itself is kinda funny! See, we lost internet at my house for a solid 5 to 6 months when these episodes aired, so I only got a very brief window to view them all. But this was the first Amethyst song in a long while, and I didn’t want to forget it! So I keep replaying it in my head for ages. And that’s still definitely a thing.

Anyway will never not be sad that this entire song was about making it up to Garnet for Amethyst’s perceived slights with Sugilite (which was a two-way road), only for Garnet to pressure her into fusion later when pissed and never discuss it again bc Garnet probably never thought twice about it and Amethyst has the emotional openness of a clam that’s just been told its ugly. Helluva way to make someone feel like shit, G. Helluva way to bottle that shit, Ames.

20.) On the Run

I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times: Amethyst! Needed! More! Songs!

The dichotomy between Steven’s play and Amethyst’s honest desire to run away from home is so well-done, especially when you consider a lot of Steven and Amethyst’s actions are playing together. The song is also near and dear to me simply bc it’s my favorite Amethyst episode to exist (well, maybe second to What’s Your Problem, but not by much). Moments like these are all the proof I need that they were right to fuse first.

21.) Be Wherever You Are

This tune really just feels like an ode to who Steven was as a kid. Trapped on an island with no way home, and he’s just happy to be with his friends. The stars are beautiful and not oppressive. Also that one animatic with Lars and the Off Colors playing in the Homeworld Kindergarten to this music was iconic and made this song get stuck in my head for a solid month.

22.) Familiar

I ADORE how the crew use bright neon colors to show how alien Homeworld can be. And Steven recognizing that the Diamonds treat him how the CGs used to, and how prepared he is to “fix” a broken family. It’s a soft, gentle tune about melancholy. Also the Pebbles are beautiful.

23.) Let Me Drive My Van Into Your Heart

Such a cute little love ballad, but every time I listen to it now I just imagine the heart attack Rose must’ve had at the line “And if we look out of place/Well, baby, that's okay/I'll drive us into outer space.” like there’s a Vietnam war flashback if I ever heard one

24.) What Can I Do?

I’m kind of neutral on this one? Rose and Greg both have great voices, but the song itself lacks many lyrics. I think it was definitely a good way to show Rose’s flaws in thinking.

Also, I’m shocked they managed cram that much vaguely sexual innuendo into two minutes, followed by how Not Hetereo that dance between Rose and Pearl was, and not get their asses chewed by it. You go guys.

25.) Cookie Cat

I love a lot of the vibes this song has. The lyrics are so damn prophetic, but they also sound like the kind of weird 90s commercials I grew up on. It’s been like two decades since I saw the Shirley Temple commercial but I’ll be damned if I don’t remember “Animals crackers in my soup! Monkey and rabbits loop-de-loop.”

26.) Giant Woman

I am. NOT the biggest fan of Steven’s original singing voice. I feel bad saying that, since it was just Zach Callison as a kid, but he never jived well with me for some reason. So I wouldn’t listen to this on the fly.

The song itself is still really good though, with all sorts of fun animation of Amethyst and Pearl being bitchy to each other. It’s a bit sad in hindsight to see tiny Steven trying to get his moms to get along. Ahh, season 1.

27.) Strong in the Real Way

This song has SUCH a strong start. Pearl reflecting on Sugilite’s problems, but the show making sure to show us that Pearl’s lack of enthusiasm towards her also lends itself to jealousy as well as just general malaise. How much she cares about Steven, and wants him to grow up strong.

And then Steven just kinda. Ruins it? I appreciate his enthusiasm for tryna bulk up but to take what was starting as such a rich, personal song and broadcasting it to random strangers just makes me a bit sad. Almost a bit angry on her behalf?

28.) That Distant Shore

I KNOW this is gonna create some discourse, but I’m just not the biggest Lapis stan. I love her voice. I love the visuals of the song. And I get why she felt afraid and needed to flee.

But Lapis never got to take responsibility for her own actions. And, in the end, the song feels hollow to me- because we all know she’ll never talk to anyone about it, know she’ll burst back in and destroy the barn, and no one will ever question it. I like Lapis a lot, but I feel like her arc never was fully finished. She never got help. She never learned to feel safe.

29.) Dear Old Dad

I’ve yet to meet a single human being who likes this episode tbh. There’s some great discussion about what kind of parent Greg is from it, and what kind of dynamic he has with the Gems that he felt he had to fake an injury to hang out with his son. Honestly the first half was fine and dandy. It’s just that then they Greg just went out of his way to drag Steven away from missions and such. It never jived well with his character before or after.

Also, is it just me, or does Zach himself sound like he hates the song as he sings it? There’s no passion or heart in his voice. It sounds like they told him to read off cue cards and he did. Tom Scharpling’s best attempts didn’t save this one for being a skipper. But the episode, unfortunately, isn’t, so it gets a spot on here.

345 notes · View notes

1kook · 4 years ago

Text

commercial break ; SIX

this is part of my netflix & chill series this is foreshadowing for the next fic 👀

summary; Jungkook enjoyed pushing you down, indulging you in all your little fantasies, but he too had some he wanted to live out. warnings; smut in the forms of riding, penetration, soft sex rating; mature (18+) misceallenous; jungkook thinks a lot.... and they're not always pg things... word count; 1.8k

notes; i have been neglecting my og jk dream team couple so here we are! anyway please look [ here ] and remember this face ....

He’s never minded taking the reins before, but there’s something distinctly carnal that flashes in Jungkook’s chest when you ask to ride him that morning. The sun filtering in through the window beside him captures the entirety of your beauty on top of him, endless expanses of soft skin and dips and curves. “Pretty,” he sighs, hands on your hips. You’re so tired but so gorgeous, supple breasts bouncing in his face, eyelashes kissing your cheeks with each sleepy blink. Rarely do you push him down like this, hands on his chest as you whimper and grind yourself to completion, but Jungkook certainly wasn’t complaining.

In all the time he’s known you, Jungkook’s become quite familiar with your sexual prowess. You liked to play the opposite game with him, seduce him and push him until he snapped and took you over a table or cuffed you to a bed, all blessed experiences that he treasures very much. He loved how you sounded bent over the kitchen counter, or shoved against the sheets. If Jungkook had to pinpoint the exact moment his horniness skyrocketed, it was definitely the second his name left your lips in a breathy little whimper. He adored you and your body, liked taking care of you.

But every now and then… he liked to be pampered.

Jungkook enjoyed pushing you down, indulging you in all your little fantasies, but he too had some he wanted to live out. Blindfolding you and having you cum on a riding crop was definitely the highest on the list and that was done; after that incident he’s woken many a night with a rock hard cock in his sleep shorts like some dorky teenager fantasizing about his girlfriend. And on the nights you didn’t sleep over, he was forced to fend for himself, the tape recorder in his brain recalling every single thing that had happened that night.

But now it was time to move onto the next, and that next bullet point on his imaginary list was letting you fuck yourself on his cock with no help at all.

Most times you rode him you tended to give up halfway through. You started off strong, overexcited glint in your eyes as you rabidly fucked yourself on him. But your natural pillow princess tendencies (no shade) always won over, always had you softly begging him to help. He’s always been more than happy to, especially if it meant coming sooner, but sometimes Jungkook just wanted to be used. Wanted to be pushed down and taken advantage of, especially if that was at your hands. It was a concept that probably went against everything your sexual relationship was built upon; him being the submissive one was about as rare as you not play-fighting back. And still, Jungkook wanted more than anything in the world to see that side of you, that femdom, as Doyeon had so meanly teased him about once.

So here he is, partially living that fantasy as you slide up and down on his cock. You’ve got one hand on his lower abdomen, the other on the top of a thigh, working yourself against him lazily. It’s not at the intensity of Jungkook’s dreams, but it sure is a sight. “B-Bend your knee for me, honey,” you pant, and Jungkook does, pulling his leg up until you’re sloppily using it as leverage to bounce on him. “G-Good boy,” you rasp.

It’s that word, that wretched word that makes something in Jungkook go soft, throw the past year of training out the window. He likes to think he’s in charge— he is —but every now and then you use that word against Jungkook and it’s like everything is reversed and always has been. Like it’s always been you leading sex, you telling him how good he is, and not the other way around.

He groans, tightens his hands on your hips as you continue bouncing away. Every glide of your warm folds around his cock makes his heart lurch, makes him want to bury himself inside of you and never leave. Jungkook would never admit it to your or anyone, but there was this rather clingy side of him that reared its ugly head when you were involved. He never wants anyone else to see you like this, never wants anyone else to feel you like this, which is where his spiraling begins.

You see, below that being-pushed-down-by-my-girlfriend point was another, slightly overlooked point, that entrenched upon dangerous, almost taboo territory. And that was stuffing you full of his cum— off birth control —and watching you swell and swell until there was no way you couldn’t be pregnant. And Jungkook, for some odd reason, wanted that really badly.

A soft groan above him, a lazy smile on your face as you reach down to idly toy with your clit, pussy flush against the base of his cock now. He knows better than to tell you to move because it’ll break this tender moment, this unique experience of you using him like some glorified dildo like he so desperately wanted sometimes. So he shuts his lips, goes back to that other fantasy that is only fueled by the soft swell of your tits when you move.

God, they would get so big, he thinks. Would be so round, just like the rest of you, and bursting with milk. It’s for the baby, for the baby, he tells himself, but there’s image in his head, this so terribly wrong image, of him suckling your breasts, holding your waist as the milk drips down his chin and over your skin, senses overwhelmed as he does something he’s definitely not supposed to. But you’d be so sweet, his mind says, would be so sweet and... full of life.

Above him, you giggle deliriously, sweat dripping down the slope of your neck. For a second he wonders if you’ve somehow tapped into his thoughts, seen all his perverted fantasies, but then you’re looking at him with that adoring gaze that makes his heart burst. “Pretty boy,” you tease, rolling your hips forward until that cute little button above your slit is grinding against him.

Yes, he certainly was your pretty boy, your good boy— he was whatever boy you wanted him to be. Why? Because he was so in love with you that the mere thought of you not being his and him not being yours made him gag. He just wanted you, so soft and warm around him, for the rest of his life. Maybe a belly? Maybe a child? Jungkook wanted it all, and his dick throbs at the mere idea of you possibly giving him that and more.

He was completely lost in his thoughts, never to be seen again.

A muffled whimper, so airy that it takes Jungkook a moment to realize it came from him. He’s too riled up to feel embarrassed, simply rolls his head from side to side as you clench those puffy walls around him. “C-Cum inside?” he pants, “can I— can I cum inside?” You lean forward; the tip of his engorged cock brushes against a sensitive spot inside of you, pulling a sinful moan from your lips. “P- Please?”

You smile, so pretty and sweet, it makes his dick twitch. “Of course,” you murmur, small hand on the side of his face, hips rolling rhythmically. “Wh- what’s that thing you said the other day?” you shiver, sleek skin catching the rays of the sun perfectly. A glittering highlight decorates your body, and that only tightens the coil in his stomach until it’s springing up with insane force. “Baby?”

“Yes?” he grunts, every muscle fiber in his body needed to hold even the smallest semblance of self control.

A giggle from you as he dazedly looks up. “Not you,” you chuckle, leaning down to sweetly peck him on the lips. It’s so soft and gentle, just like everything else about you. It takes everything in his body to keep him stable. “Remember?” you purr, hot breathe flush against his skin. “You wanted to put a baby in me.”

His hips jerk, a moan spilling from his lips that he doesn’t catch fast enough. “N-No,” he mewls, turning his face away from you like maybe it’ll prolong his orgasm, maybe it’ll lessen the aching heat around his cock. He can’t possibly hear those words from your lips, not when he knows you’re on birth control and that that notion is physically impossible right now. It’ll plant a terrible seed in his head, ruin Jungkook for weeks.

But you’re nothing if not persistent, forcing yourself down against him as he begins violently blushing, trying to mask his excitement. “Baby?” you repeat, as if he’s a puppy hearing the words ‘outside;’ fuck it, Jungkook thinks, he was whatever you wanted him to be. “Wanna fuck a baby into me, Jungkookie?” you exhale, hot breath against his ear. His hips spasm a second time, send you rolling down his cock with those perky nipples flush against his chest. “Mmmh, come on, honey… need you to work for it.”

And work Jungkook does.

His hands wrap around your frame, pull you flush against his body. Feet against the bed, thighs tense, he begins rapidly thrusting up into the warm entrance of your pussy, where yours and his cum seep out together. It’s slippery and wet, but not wet enough — he wants to feel his cum around himself, feel it bulge inside your stomach until you physically can’t hold anymore. “G-Good boy,” you whine, lips raining down featherlight smooches along his jawline. “Doing so good for me, honey—“

You’re cut off by the earth-shattering orgasm that consumes Jungkook, an almost feral groan that tears itself from his throat. “Mine, mine,” he sobs, doesn’t recognize his own voice in his ears. “Gonna be mine.”

A stuttered reply as your juices join his, leak down his softening cock until the sticky sweet fluid makes him feel dirty. It’s not even 8 AM yet and he’s already covered in cum. But it’s worth it when you lean back with that pretty smile, push his damp hair away from his sweaty face with the practiced touch of an angel. “Did you like that?” you ask softly, not making to move off of him. In fact, Jungkook swears you squeeze around his quickly limpening cock.

Any other woman he thinks he might have been embarrassed, die from humiliation of presenting her with a soft dick. But with you, it’s comfortable. It’s sweet and soft, your silky folds milking the last of his cum straight out of his cock. Jungkook whimpers, head bobbing at your question. You cup his face in your hands, fingers like butterflies against his skin. He swears he could transcend right now.

Another languid kiss, tongue lazily toying with his until his mouth feels heavy from the saliva you push down his throat. The light filtering in through the window paints your skin in soft colors, makes him feel so warm and loved; he could die like this and not feel an inch of remorse.

#goldenclosetnet #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts smut #mine

1K notes · View notes

a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years ago

Text

Faded

Averykedavra prompt: okay, first of all, can I be added to your taglist? I love your fics! secondly, if you're open to prompts (apologies if you're not) could you write some logan-centric hurt/comfort? with roman and maybe Virgil comforting him? no pressure, but thanks!! and again your fics are absolutely incredible

Thanks for the prompt babe you’re an icon ^_^

Read on Ao3

Warnings: Logan’s not feeling so great, so self-doubt, self-esteem issues, all that jazz

Pairings: depending on how you want to read it, logince, analogical, possible prinxiety, analogince, or just hella platonic. My aro ass doesn’t know anymore you choose

Word Count: 4237

When a Side's role is disregarded, their door fades from the hallway.

Logan...do the others really need Logan?

Or just Logic?

“Neato! So you're making your little factoids optional this time around.”

Thank Archimedes the little pixelated boxes didn’t allow for much dynamic character interaction.

Logan swallows and tries to keep going, growing more concerned that the lump in his throat would make it impossible to speak. But he can do this. For Thomas, he can do this. He has to.

“Oh, I’ve got this one, guys!”

‘IGNORANT’ flashes up in front of him in big, red letters. Almost immediately he can hear the scoldings of Thomas and Patton followed by Roman’s mumbled apology but it’s too late. The word sears itself into his brain and he can’t see anything other than the choice that they’ve made.

He swallows again. Alright. He’ll speak directly to the audience. Thomas has to listen to them eventually, doesn’t he?

…well, maybe, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting every time he pops up with something and it’s completely ignored. He tries to appeal to Patton’s sense of humor. He tries to give Roman something when he can’t find the right words. He tries to give Thomas something, anything.

Then he gets overexcited and pushes Patton into the blinds.

The second Roman’s sword flashes out and slices him neatly in two a searing bolt of pain spreads to his arms, to his chest, to his throat. He knows logically—he knows everything logically—he can’t be hurt by that. It isn’t him. He is not connected in any way physically to these lowdowns.

So why are his hands shaking?

This is so ridiculous. He is Logic. He should not be working like this, he should not be reacting like this. This is logically the next step, he must simply not be out of the adjustment process yet. Which is ridiculous in and of itself, has he not mentioned several times over that the presence of the others imbeds Thomas’s ability to think rationally and calmly about the issues they have to face? Has he not himself wondered that if he were not so…undone by being in the same room that he finds it difficult to keep going when he needs to? Shouldn’t this be better?

“You know I'm- I'm not doing a really great job explaining this philosophy. Um, Logan?”

Patton? Logan pops up.

Patton smiles—smiles?—at him as the box appears at the bottom of the screen. From this angle, he can’t see Roman or Thomas. What’s happening? Why hasn’t he been paying better attention?

Why can’t he focus?

“What would a real philosopher think about what I'm saying here?”

Oh. Oh, no. This isn’t going to be good, is it?

“Well, Frederich Nietzsche really wouldn't have been thrilled with anything you've had to say, primarily because pity seems to be at the center of your idea of ‘putting good into the world.’”

“Th-that's not what—“

“Nietzsche famously rejected the notion that pity was a virtue.”

“Okay,” comes the quiet mumble that, really, should’ve told him to stop talking now, he wasn’t being useful anymore.

But no. Logan was never very good at being quiet, now was he?

“He once claimed that pity ‘runs counter to the instincts that preserve and enhance the value of life…��”

Last chance, Logan, something in his head whispers as something else flashes in the corner of his vision.

‘Skip all.’

But they would never do that, right? They knew, somewhere, because Thomas knew, that you had to listen to Logic. You had to listen, at some point, because if you didn’t, what did you have? They would shake their heads or grumble in annoyance, or cut him off when he’d been talking for too long or ask him to be quiet, but they’d never skip him entirely, cut him out of the conversation, would they?

Patton’s finger presses the button and something of unyielding cold wraps around Logan’s neck.

He flails as it yanks, jerking back awake with his eyes open, out of the boxes, out of the video, at his desk, staring at the screen as his lowdown program blocks him out.

No.

No!

What happened? Why did they—is he—can he—

Why didn’t they want to listen?

Logan’s fingers fly over the keyboard in front of him, searching desperately for an answer. Maybe he programmed this wrong. Admittedly he’s a little new at programming so he could’ve messed something up that disconnected him. Maybe Patton clicked it by mistake. Why was there even a ‘skip all’ button to begin with? He doesn’t remember programming that. And what was it that wrapped around his throat?

His hand goes to his neck at the mere memory of the horrible thing that yanked him out. He winces when his fingers slide of patches of warm, inflamed skin. It…it actually hurt. It left a mark.

What—

The instant his lowdown pops up with his face, he knows.

It shouldn’t hurt. Really. This shouldn’t hurt.

Now perhaps Deceit could see what it was like to be Logic. Or at least to try and be Logic.

Now perhaps…perhaps he may have someone to talk to.

No.

Deceit was, in fact, far better at being Logic. Within an instant, he’d gotten the conversation to his side, gotten the others to listen, to think about what they were saying instead of just following on blind faith.

Of course.

Because it wasn’t Logic they didn’t want to listen to, was it?

It was Logan.

Logan closes his eyes. Alright. He can adapt to this. He can…he can work with this. He just has to figure out how.

He turns away from the computer, stands, and carefully makes his way across his room to the nightstand, where the emergency first-aid kit sits tucked in the drawer. He will patch himself up, best he can, and then figure out what to do.

He’s too distracted to hear Roman’s terrified shout.

“What have you done with Logan?”

———————————————————

A few hours after filming stops, there’s a very soft knock on Logan’s door. He doesn’t move from his desk, nor does he pause in his typing. False sympathies and empty comforts have never been very appealing.

…and he is just the slightest bit worried that he won’t be able to resist the urge to slam the door in Patton’s face.

Footsteps moving away sound from outside. Good. It’s better this way, isn’t it?

The lowdowns didn’t work. Well, they did…but they worked a little too well, didn’t they? Instead of being less invasive, they just…cut Logan’s contributions out entirely. They let Logan be taken. They were good for Logic, not Logan.

Logan’s head turns to the wall where he has two lists tacked up. Standing, the desk chair scraping behind him, he picks up the marker.

His job is to be Logic. Therefore, if he is failing at that job, he must find a way to be better.

The list on the left has ‘LOGIC’ written in large, block letters. On the right, ‘LOGAN.’ Isolating the key characteristics of each concept will help to shift himself properly into the role he must play. Logan’s eyes scan down the ‘LOGIC’ list.

LOGIC:

Emotionless

Useful

Rational

Necessary

Welcome

The end of the word ‘welcome’ is smeared. Logan looks down at the marker. His hands had shaken so much as he added that last word…why? It was true; logic should be welcome in any conversation, that’s why is it so useful, that’s why it has so many of the other characteristics that it has. Logic should be wanted, regardless of the subject matter, because of what it could do. It had felt so small of Logan to add the word, even when it was the correct course of action. Was it not implied by the others that it should be wanted?

That…that he should be wanted?

Unconsciously, Logan twists the cap of the marker back and forth as his eyes dart over to the ‘LOGAN’ list.

LOGAN:

Irritating

Invasive

Emotional

Easily dismissed

Unwanted

If he had any doubts about whether or not these qualifications were inaccurate, each had cemented their place on this list after today.

Logan’s hand flies to his neck again, grazing over the bandages he’d wrapped around himself, only to stutter to a halt when his fingers met the fabric of his tie.

His tie.

Hadn’t—he’d—he’d been so sure he’d been doing this right. He dressed well, he spoke carefully, he did his research, why—why was it so easy for them to say he was—to think of him as—

…why didn’t they want to listen to him?

He tried. He tried so hard to be what they wanted, what they would listen to, to appeal to each and every one of them to make sure he was still fitting in enough to be heard. Logic had to be heard, that’s one of its most important qualifications.

As his fingers fumble and catch around the knot, it pulls taut and for a moment he’s thrown back into the feeling of Deceit’s crook around his neck.

Oh.

Oh, that’s right…he…Deceit—or, well, Janus, now—didn’t he...he was…Logic isn’t the problem.

Janus’s Logic made them listen. Janus’s logic made them pay attention. Janus’s Logic was wanted.

Logan’s fingers slide off his tie in a numb haze.

His hand falls limply to his side.

He stares at the lists.

Irritating.

Invasive.

Emotional.

Easily dismissed.

There is a reason none of these qualifications have come up when he considers pure Logic.

A wave of cold rushes over Logan. His knees wobble. His hand staggers out for something, anything to grab onto, to hold, to stop himself from collapsing under the weight of what he just realized, to stop it, to stop it, to stop—

He hits the ground with a thud.

The words beat into his head over and over as he lies there, frozen, cold, so cold, curled up by his bed with something wrapped tightly around his throat and his glasses staying stubbornly on his face so the words remain in perfect focus.

It is not Logic that is the problem.

The others can use Logic.

The others can listen to Logic.

The others can want Logic.

They just don’t want Logan.

Logan curls closer around himself as it starts to become very, very cold. That…this can’t be right, he must be missing something. He’s emotionally compromised right now, he’s not any good at being Logic, maybe—maybe that means he’s doing it wrong, he has to be doing this wrong, there’s no way they could—they need him, don’t they? They need Logan, they have to listen to him, they—they—

Unbidden, a whine escapes Logan’s throat. It burns as it rings around his empty, cold room. He covers his face with his hands.

Even his cheeks feel icy cold.

Someone will notice, he tries frantically, someone will notice if I never show up again, someone will notice if I—if—if—

But they didn’t notice. Not today.

Not until it was too late.

Outside, in the corridor, a dark blue door begins to fade into the wall.

———————————————————

“Logan? Logan!”

Bam, bam, bam.

“Logan!”

Frantic hammering against the door jolts him awake. Immediately he winces as something in his neck catches. How—how long has he been like this?

“Logan, please, open the door, we—we can’t open it!”

Oh…the others have noticed…should go open the door.

Wincing again, Logan rights himself, sitting up with his back leaning against the bed, blinking through his fuzzy glasses. Why are they so filthy?

…oh, he must’ve been crying.

How emotional.

“Logan? Logan can you at least say something?”

“I’m gonna break this door down.”

“No!”

Well, yes, Logan does not want his door broken down. Groaning, he stands, making his way over to the door that—wait.

Why…why is his door so…pale?

The knob looks almost translucent as he reaches for it, his pulse hammering as his fingers close gently around where it should be. He takes a deep breath and carefully, carefully, turns it.

“Logan, thank god, I—“ Virgil cuts himself off with a choked gasp as he stares at Logan. “…L? What…what happened to you?”

“What do you mean?” The instant it comes out of his mouth he knows what Virgil means. He sounds like his throat is actively attempting to cut itself off with every breath.

A choked whine comes from behind Virgil. Logan’s eyes dart over to see Roman a sickly pale, staring at Logan, horrified.

“…S-specs? Specs, I—Logan, oh, no, can I—can we—“ Roman reaches for him, only to freeze and quickly pull back his hand.

Another wave of cold settles over Logan and his hand falls through the doorknob.

“Logan,” Virgil murmurs, “can we come in, please? I, uh, we wanna talk to you for a moment.”

Why would you want to talk to me?

“…of course.” Logan steps aside and lets them pass, looking down at his hand.

It’s still a hand, but it looks…thinner. He can tell where it isn’t, if that makes sense.

When has Logan ever made sense?

Virgil sits down on the floor, next to his bed. Roman hovers near the door, wringing his hands together as Logan carefully pushes the door closed.

“I’m sorry, Logan.”

Logan’s eyes widen as his head jerks around to face Roman. Roman gives him what may be the smallest smile he’s ever seen before taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, the sincerity making the cold burn in Logan’s chest, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. It—it was stupid of me to press the ‘ignorant’ button and it was not my intention to hurt you. And I...slashing your box was wrong too. I just saw Patton get hurt and I—”

He cuts himself off and takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Logan," he repeats, softer this time, "for all that I have done to hurt you. I want to be better about it."

Oh. “…thank you, Roman,” Logan says carefully, “I appreciate your apology.”

Roman gives him a nod. Logan looks at Virgil, whose head still rests against the bed, staring at the two of them.

“Is this what you wanted to discuss?”

“Sort of, but…uh, Logan, you…you’re not looking so great, bud.” Virgil shifts, looking to Roman, who nods and takes a seat on the floor too, leaving a space between them. “Will you come sit with us?”

“…of course.”

Logan sits gingerly between the two of them, his gaze fixed on the outlet in the wall opposite them. He hears the rustling of fabric as Virgil shifts, and sees a little white in the corner of his eye as Roman scoots a tad closer.

“So,” Virgil murmurs after a second, “I guess this video was…hard.”

Roman huffs quietly. Logan nods. “Yes.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“Have the others not already told you?”

“I’d like to hear it from you too.”

Logan takes a deep breath, ignoring the way the cold burns the inside of his lungs. “I attempted to implement a new strategy for how I interact with you and the viewers. Instead of appearing in person, I chose to use a series of lowdowns so the information would appear in a non-invasive way.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“…keep going, L.”

“They were…not as well-received as I had anticipated.”

A flash of movement and a stifled noise make him look over. Roman fiddles with the hem of his sleeve right in front of his mouth, obviously having cut himself off. He glances over.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “I didn’t want to interrupt. Please, continue.”

“I, er…” Logan swallows, something about the movement of Roman’s fingers holding his focus captive. “I hurt Patton.”

From his other side comes a sharp intake of breath. Logan looks away.

“I hurt Patton. I could not do my job properly. I had compromised the conversation. A ‘skip all’ button appeared and…”

“Patton pressed it,” Virgil finishes when Logan doesn’t speak, “he told me.”

Logan doesn’t say anything. The crook manifests around his throat again and he shudders.

“…Logan,” Roman’s worried voice says, even as it sounds like it’s coming from underwater, “Logan, did…what did that do to you?”

“Janus,” Logan croaks, “he—his staff, it—I—“

“Hey, hey,” Virgil croons, reaching for the hands that tug persistently at his collar, at his bandages, when did they get there?— “don’t do that, L, you’re gonna hurt yourself, stop that…”

“Logan, can I hold your hand, please?”

Logan lets Virgil tug his hands away from his neck. It—why—what’s happening?

Why are Virgil’s hands so warm?

Judging by Virgil’s expression, he’s as concerned about the stark difference in temperature as Logan is. Several emotions flit across his face before Logan can name them until they both register Roman’s question. Roman holds his hand out, all but pleading for Logan to let him.

“Please,” he whispers, his hand starting to tremble, “please, Logan, may I…can I just hold your hand?”

“Why are you so worried,” Logan wants to ask, “what is it that makes you so insistent about holding my hand?”

Instead, when his voice is barely about a strangled whisper and his first attempt makes his hand phase completely through Roman’s, the question emerges as a stifled scream.

“Shh, shh,” Roman whispers, moving in as close as he can, trying to curl his hands around where Logan’s should be, “it’s okay, it’s okay, we’ll—we’ll figure it out, Logan, we’ve got you, it’s okay—“

Roman burns.

“R-ro—“

“Easy, Roman,” Virgil mutters from behind him, “take it easy, you’re gonna freak us all out.”

“I know, I know.” Roman clutches the air of Logan’s hand tightly. “Okay…okay, Specs, we gotta…we’re gonna take some deep breaths, okay?”

No, no, it hurts when Logan does that, what’s…

He does as bid. The air whines in protest as he slowly breathes in and out, in and out, focusing on Roman’s thumb rubbing small circles into his hand. Roman seems to calm a little as he watches, bringing Logan’s hand close enough to cradle it in his lap as they breathe.

“Good,” Virgil manages, still clutching Logan’s other hand tightly, his own voice shaking slightly, “okay, now we’re all just gonna calm down, yeah? Just…nice and calm…”

Logan has no idea how long they sit there, on the floor, only that after a few more deep breaths, it no longer hurts. Roman’s hand no longer burns, it’s just warm. Virgil no longer trembles, he’s just there.

“My apologies,” he manages, “I did not mean to be so…inconvenient.”

Roman’s cry of protest is quickly accompanied by: “hey, no, none of that, Logan, you’re not being inconvenient. It’s been a hard day for all of us.”

“But was I not—“

“No,” Roman interrupts gently, “I’m sorry for interrupting, but…no, Logan. Nothing that happened today was your fault. Absolutely nothing.”

“…I’m the one who hurt Patton.”

“That was an accident and you didn’t know it was going to do that,” Roman says firmly, “and it was our fault we didn’t listen to you. So much that you felt that was your only option.”

Logan swallows. “…what about Janus?”

“What about him,” Virgil prompts, “the fact that he…came into the video?”

“It was my lowdowns that enabled him to do so.”

“And we pressed the ‘skip all’ button,” Roman says. “And I’m the one who gave him tips on how to impersonate the rest of us better.”

Roman is right, even as Logan begins to feel cold again. Still, he opens his mouth.

“I…I’m not…I can’t…it…”

“Logan,” Roman says quietly when Logan can’t seem to find the words, “none of us are angry with you. I’m certainly not angry with you, and I’m…I’m sorry about everything that I may have done and have done to give you the impression that I do not hold you in the highest esteem possible.”

Logan’s mouth drops open in shock.

“I think you overdid it a little there, Princey,” Virgil chuckles.

“But it’s true,” Roman insists, still cradling Logan’s hand in his lap, “Logan, you’re…you’re so important. And if I have done anything that makes you think I don’t care so much about you, then I…I will do everything I can to fix this.”

What?

“You…but we..we fight,” Logan manages weakly, “all the time, you…you disagree with me every chance you get, how—“

��I told you on movie night,” Roman says, the corner of his mouth tugging up, “I poke fun at the things I love.”

Love.

Logan’s brain stutters to a pause.

“You’re my family, Logan,” Roman continues, oblivious to the fact that Logan.exe has stopped functioning, please try again later, “and I…you are so clever, so sharp, so good that of course I want to talk to you about things. I respect your opinion so much and I want to hear everything.”

“Yeah, if you ever stop teaching us stuff I might actually start crying and never stop.”

“Virgil!”

“What, like you’re any better?”

“Of course not! I would be devastated!”

“Wait, wait,” Logan mumbles, “you—you what?”

“L,” Virgil calls softly, still chuckling a little as Logan turns to look at him, “L, we care about you so much. We wanted to give you space, especially after today, but…dude, you know we need you, don’t you?”

“You need Logic,” Logan mumbles, “you…of course you need Logic.”

“We do,” Roman confirms as the cold threatens to open up in Logan’s chest again, “but we also love Logan.”

“You have got to stop throwing that word around,” Virgil murmurs, “you’re gonna send him into a full-blown freak-out.”

“But we do, Virgil. We do love him, so much, and if he doesn’t know that…”

Roman squeezes a surprisingly solid hand in his lap.

“…then we have to remind him.”

Virgil huffs, scooting closer. “Yeah, well, that’s easy enough.”

No, no, it very much is not.

Logan’s brain is still struggling to come to grips with the first thing Roman said, about poking fun at the things he loves. He hasn’t come close to tackling the fact that Roman just said they loved him.

And Virgil agreed.

“This…this doesn’t make sense,” Logan says weakly, “this doesn’t make sense.”

“What doesn’t make sense?” Virgil’s hand is a warm weight against his side. “That we love you?”

“…y-yes?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Virgil murmurs, “what makes you so convinced that you’re unlovable?”

“I…I can’t…I am emotionally compromised. I cannot do my job properly. I will not be as useful as you—“

“Do you need to be useful to be lovable?”

“Don’t you?”

“No,” he says firmly, pressing Logan between the two of them, “no, you don’t, Logan. We love you for you, not for what you can do.”

“Don’t leave us, Logan.” The sheer amount of pain in Roman’s voice aches. “Not because you think we won’t want you.”

A horrible laugh bubbles up in his throat. “And here I thought you were going to leave me.”

“Never,” Roman promises, “never.”

“We did threaten to break down your door because it was starting to fade from the hallway.”

“…I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“You don’t need to know right now, we’ll help you.”

“I don’t know how good I’m going to be at this.”

“We’re all working on things, it’s okay.”

“But I—“ Logan swallows heavily— “I don’t know if I can stop believing that I…that it is just Logic you want and not Logan.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Roman calls, squeezing his hand, “I still struggle with that too.”

Logan’s eyes widen. “You what?”

“Believe that you only keep me around as long as I make things that you think are useful?” Roman smiles sadly. “Yeah.”

“But you’re—you—Thomas would not be able to exist without you!”

“Wouldn’t he?”

“No! It’s not just—Roman, you’re so much more than Creativity, if you weren’t here, we…” Logan takes a deep breath and swallows. “Something would truly be lost if you weren’t here.”

He stops.

“…oh.”

“Yeah, Specs,” Roman whispers, “‘oh.’”

“…oh.”

“Come here, sweetheart,” he murmurs, opening his arms and letting Logan fall into his embrace, “don’t you leave us, okay?”

Virgil drapes himself over them, wrapping his arms tightly around Logan’s waist. “We’ll figure it out, L, but you gotta stick around, okay? Don’t—well, try not to worry about whether or not you’re being the perfect Logic. We want you.”

“…promise?”

“I promise.”

“I promise too,” Roman murmurs, letting Logan rest against his chest, “now why don’t we all get into something more comfortable and we can have another look at your neck?”

“Yes. That sounds…good.”

“And Logan?” Logan cranes his head up to look. “If you ever stop teaching us things and telling me about stuff I will start crying.”

Despite everything, Logan smiles.

“Don’t worry,” he says quietly, the chill finally beginning to thaw, “I’m not going anywhere.”

General Taglist: @frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @such-a-dumbass

If you want to be added/taken off the taglist let me know!

#sanders sides #fic #dragonbabbles #logan sanders #logan angst #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #logince #analogical #analogince

343 notes · View notes

anobscurename · 4 years ago

Text

ocean eyes – chris evans

PART I | PART II | PART III | PART IV

concept: after having the house to yourself for little over a month, you are surprised by chris’ return home. awkward encounters ensue. the slowest of slow burns, the fifth part of many.

pairing: chris evans x reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: shirtless evans, an almost assault with a baseball bat

author’s note: not me dropping a third part in one day… this one goes out to @tonystankschild for being so overwhelmingly supportive. thank you, and i hope you enjoy :)

You should’ve known he was home.

All the signs were there, but you’d gotten so used to living alone in the spacious L.A. residence by yourself – aside from Dodger – that it seemed almost absurd now to think of it as a shared space.

You had been watching something – one of those home invasion slashers – when Dodger had sudden perked his head, ears erect and alert. He had heard something you hadn’t just yet, and suddenly, he was leaping off the couch and headed straight for the front door, whining and howling. That was the first sign.

The second sign came after you had paused the film to better hear what was transpiring in the foyer. Dodger was pawing frantically at the base of the door, crying out. In the sudden hush of the apartment, you could hear the scrape of something metallic in the keyhole. The doorknob jostled, and a muffled slew of profanities reached your ears, even through the thick door.

You didn’t stick around for the third sign – you had already bounded to your room and retrieved the hefty wooden baseball bat you had bought when you first moved into that dingy flat by yourself downtown in one of the more seedier areas. You held it aloft with as much confidence as you could muster – poised and ready. You would later admit to maybe being a bit paranoid, given the film you had selected that night. But not right now. Right now you were in full attack mode, fight or flight.

“Who’s that, Dodge?” You whispered, heart rate spiking and forcing adrenaline through your veins. You didn’t expect a reply from the overexcited pup, but you got one in a long drawn out yowl. “Who’s that?”

The bat was beginning to feel slippery in your sweat slicked hands, but you merely adjusted your grip and clutched it tighter. Then, a click – the door opening.

With a shrieking wail of a battle cry, you swung wildly in the dark, the shadowed silhouette easily evading your clumsy attack and grabbing the bat before its inevitable collision with his face.

Suddenly, at the click of a switch, light flooded the foyer, briefly blinding you.

“What the hell?!” A Boston accent, the musky scent of something indescribable. Your heart flipped.

Allowing your eyes to adjust, you found yourself staring into the stunning – if not wide in mild panic – blue eyes of Chris Evans. He was fresh off his flight, dishevelled slightly from his drive home. His dirty blonde hair was tousled and messy, his shirt rumpled but clinging effortlessly to his muscular frame. He still held the one side of the bat in a large and rather beautiful hand, his lips twisted in a small but no less beautiful – and also incredibly confused – smile.

“Oh, thank God it’s you,” you sighed in relief when your senses returned to you, slackening your death grip on the handle. He gently – if not a bit quickly – took the bat and placed it on a tabletop nearby, before bending down and greeting a frenzied Dodger who immediately pounced on Chris and slathered him in kisses, tail wagging at a mile a minute. “I honestly thought you were a burglar.”

“Did you–” Chris was cut off by a wet lick to the face, and he struggled to reign his laughter in to complete his thought. “Did you not hear my key in the door?”

He rose to his feet, grinning, just as happy to see Dodger again as the pup did his owner.

“I heard someone fucking up a key in the door. Figured it was a lock pick in the end and decided that if I was going to die, I was gonna go down swingin’.”

You were feeling somewhat defensive – even if you almost attacked the poor man.

“Remind me to text next time, then,” Chris chuckled.

And as if the confirmation of your safety spurred it, you fell into his arms, clinging to him in a bone crushing bear hug. You deeply inhaled his scent – a scent that still sometimes lingered in the house but had overall faded into just a ghostly reminder. “You have no idea how happy I am it’s you and not Hannibal Lecter.”

Your voice was muffled in the fabric of his t-shirt clad chest as he patted you on the back reassuringly. “I think I have some idea…”

——————

The thing about having lived by yourself for so long is that you grow accustomed to a certain level of naturally granted – and overall assumed – privacy. And although it was beginning to become the case for you, it was and already had been the case for Chris.

So that was why, when morning came, you, in all your drowsiness, found yourself in the position you currently were in.

See, the mistake was almost entirely forgivable. It was an honest one. Just people being human and forgetting specific things – like the fact that other people had use of certain communal amenities, and that locking doors was the ultimate guarantee of privacy.

When you would both tell the tale – having found the humour in it not long later – you would both admit to entirely forgetting the other lived there too.

In Chris’ case, he had been a little jetlagged. In your case, it had just slipped your mind.

For this to make sense, we would have to take a close look at the layout of the house. See, both yours and Chris’ rooms were connected by one specific point in the house: an en suite conjoining bathroom that both of you had access to.

Chris, having been a bachelor for most of his time living on that property, had never really dwelled much on the second door.

And you, having moved in a month prior, never once gave much thought to where the other door – his door – led. In all honesty, you had never even bothered to check.

And so, in the late hours of the morning, you found your eyes dragging open and your sleep ridden body stumbling out of bed.

How you hadn’t heard him was baffling – because, as you would later discover, Chris Evans did not merely sing in the shower, no. He goddamn performed; held a live concert for all the toiletries that were simply too inanimate to escape – but as you sluggishly hauled yourself to your bathroom door (always shut, thanks to the numerous horror films you had consumed during your lazy days), the last thing you were expecting was–

“OH MY GOD!”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Both of you simultaneously leapt at the shock of finding someone you wouldn’t expect.

“Fuck, holy shit, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry–”

“{Your name},” he chuckled, glistening shoulders bouncing with mirth. “It’s okay.”

You had walked in on Chris fucking Evans, mercifully (for your part) clad in a white towel wrapped snugly around his waist. If the steam thick air was an indication, he had stepped out of the shower moments before your intrusion, and had been in the midst of combing the wet hair away from his face when you’d come in.

“I’m sorry, I thought the bathroom would be free, I…” you trailed off as you finally looked at him.

You had seen him shirtless before, obviously. Everyone had if they had seen almost any film he’d been in. But this was somehow… different.

You were mesmerised by the water droplets running down and getting caught on the ridges of his rippling muscles. And the tattoos…

You never would’ve guessed he had so many, some obscured by the damp hair that covered his chest, others in stark contrast of black on tan, smooth skin.

This was what he looked like, no makeup, no special effects, no airbrush. 100% him, real, in front of you, and a little naked.

“My eyes are up here.” He grinned teasingly. “See something you like?”

You swallowed thickly and finally looked him in his ocean eyes. “We never speak of this again.”

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans fanfic #chris evans/you #chris evans/reader #chris evans fluff #dina writes #ocean eyes #part 5

85 notes · View notes

since0202 · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 26: Heal

Grace woke up to the low, cloudy light of dawn breaking around her. The low light still caused her vision to go in and out of focus as a throbbing headache made its debut. She groaned, raising a sore arm to her face and rubbed it.

She had no concept of time or where she was but she felt deep, pulsing pain throughout her body. She tentatively touched at her midsection and sucked in a breath like a hiss as the tender skin felt too hot to touch. Grace slowly stretched the fingers on each of her hands and felt the excruciating pain shoot down her wrist and up her arm. She felt battered, like she’d been stamped by a thousand hot irons pounding at her body for hours. It probably wasn’t the best idea, but Grace tried her best to push her body upright into a sitting position. A painful moan escaped her as her vision went black.

“Hey, woah woah woah.” Suddenly there was someone kneeling beside her, bracing her back, their hand hot and firm. She knew that voice.

“Where am I?” Grace said, her voice scratchy and hushed like she had a sore throat.

“My place.” Paul said, his face coming into better focus. “Drink this.” He held a glass of water to her lips and she drank gratefully, draining the glass easily and gasping for air afterward.

“Where’s Jake?” she croaked. Grace was too disorientated to even take in the fact that she was in her ex-boyfriend’s bed in a home that was supposed to be hers. That ache had no room to exist as her body screamed at every move she made.

“They took him home. He’s okay, he’s healing.” Paul was scanning her body frantically. He didn’t know what to do when she had passed out. He just knew he had to get her out of that clearing before the ancient vampires —Volturi the doc had called them—came into the clearing to kill them all. So he rushed her to his home. She had been out for a solid 18 hours until now.

Grace rubbed her eyes and tried to bring more things into focus. She looked down at herself, still wincing at even the slightest movement. She was wearing one of Paul’s shirts and her pants were missing.

“My clothes,” she said groggily, an aching finger pulling at the shirt she had on.

“Yours were covered in blood,” he breathed. “You scared the hell out of me. Grace being in that clearing was not part of the plan. You could have gotten killed, why the fuck did you do that?” his voice rose slightly as anger flooded him. Seeing her in the clearing had sent a shock wave through him. One he felt rippled down the pack.

But he had to admit that once she was there, they felt renewed, faster, more agile, their adrenaline at seeing her allowed each wolf to tap into a stronger or maybe more panicked version of themselves. Sam had been the most upset. He was trying to keep everyone safe and was pulled in so many directions during the fight, dividing his attention to ensure no one died on his watch. And when Grace came into the clearing, that attention dialed in to just her. It was maddening for him. Paul thought he’d attack Grace instead of the newborns for a second.

Grace looked at the empty glass and said in a hoarse voice: “Can I have some more water?”

Paul nodded, letting out a huff of air and stood up to get her more. When he went into the kitchen there was a soft knock at the front door. He set the glass down and pulled it open.

Rachel.

“I come bearing gifts.” She said, a small smile on her face. Paul felt his stomach drop. Just seeing her made everything swim in his head. His eyes cast around her face to the beautiful sprinkle of freckles dancing across the bridge of her nose to the strand of hair that fell in front of her perfectly tinted russet skin. Her amber eyes almost glittered and her full, ruby lips pulled open into a welcoming smile.

“Um, hey.” Paul mustered. She let out a light laugh and returned a “hey.”

His eyes fell to the stack of clothes in her hands. “I brought some clothes over for her. Thought she might need it, what with all the blood.”

“How’s Jacob?” Paul said. He could see the pain there on her face.

“Yeah, he’s okay. It’s going to take a bit for him to heal, but the doctor has him on a morphine drip to keep him comfortable. My human biology course isn’t really coming in handy as much as I thought it would considering the whole….wolf...thing.” Rachel paused to look Paul up and down. She’d been given a crash course in the pack’s secret once Paul had imprinted on her. He had also demanded that Sam let him tell her.

She held out the clothes in Paul’s silence, her warmth never leaving her voice. “Here. She’s only a little bit shorter than me, but these should fit.” Paul took the clothes, their hands brushing in the process. Rachel blushed and Paul tried to keep the heat from rising in his body.

“Thanks.” he said. Wow. So eloquent. Great job, Paul. Real smooth. You have seen a girl before you know? Idiot. The thoughts raced through his head.

“Okay, well. See you later!” she trilled before hopping down the steps, stumbling just a little in her overexcitement. Paul automatically took a step forward like he was going to help her but she held a hand up and laughed, heading toward her car.

Paul carried the glass of water and clothes back to his bedroom and kneeled by the bed where Grace sat with her head in her hands.

“Hey.” he gently said holding the glass out. She took it but it started to slip from her fingers. He placed his hand on top of hers and helped tip the glass so she could drink.

He set the half empty glass down next to the bed and held out the clothes to her. “Something to change into.” Grace gently folded her arms around the clothes and gave a soft ‘Thanks.’

Her head was still spinning and showing no signs of stopping. The ache was growing rather than subsiding and she felt an excruciating need to get out of here.

“Can you take me to Jake?” she said automatically, trying to listen to her body. Paul hesitated, his eyes staring at Grace, trying not to touch her.

“Yeah.” he whispered, pain apparent in his voice. Grace tried to focus on his face but he kept disappearing behind a blur making its way across her vision. “Can you stand?” he asked.

She hadn’t considered this. Her body felt weighted in a pain she’d never experienced before.

“Can you help?” she said as she winced and tried to pull herself up. Paul grabbed her easily, like he was meant for it, and took the weight off of her limbs as he pulled her into a standing position on the floor. He gently placed her on her feet, slowly letting her weight come down. She gripped his forearms for support and felt the blinding pain of standing on her own. Without meaning too, she let out a sharp cry of pain and a pitiful “Ow, ow, ow,” that triggered Paul to panic and lift her again.

“Okay, that’s not gonna work.” Paul said, “I don’t think we should move you yet.”

“Just help me get dressed,” Grace said, her labored breathing returning. Paul looked at her carefully and then nodded his head. Grace was flushed with embarrassment but didn’t see any other way. He gently removed the shirt he had changed her into before putting her and she shivered. Paul tried to keep his face straight. Looking at her now felt different and filled him with guilt. Grace didn’t even bother trying to cover her exposed chest before Paul pulled the University of Washington shirt over her head that Rachel had brought. He leaned down and Grace raised her leg to thread through the fitted matching sweats. He pulled them up around her hips and tightened the strings on them, tying it into a loose knot so they stayed put. He picked her up under her knees and took her to the car, stone faced, trying not to think about how warm her body felt in his arms.

When he pulled up to the Black residence, he could see some members of the pack filtering out of the house. He popped open his door and they came over to him.

“Is she okay?” Embry asked worried, his eyes pulled to where she sat, eyes closed, in the front seat.

“I’m not sure. Is the doc here?” Paul replied. Quil shook his head.

“He just left but we can get him back if you need.”

“Yeah, maybe. I need to get her inside, she’s been asking for Jake.”

Embry and Quil gave him a surprised look. He didn’t really want to deal with the barrage of questions. “Just go get the leech.” He said annoyed. They nodded at him wordlessly and were off, slowing to stare at Grace as they went past.

Paul grabbed her from the car gently and walked her into the tiny house. He had no idea what he was supposed to do with her, but when she murmured a sign of being awake, he gave an exhausted sigh and walked her toward the back of the house where Jake’s room was. When he pushed open the door, Sam was there. The tiny room didn’t afford for this many people but Grace was already awake and pulling out of his arms, reaching for the bed.

“Put me down,” she grumbled. Paul tentatively set her down, holding around her waist in case she fell. Grace looked hypnotized, her body reacting to seeing Jake’s motionless frame sprawled on the bed. His face was covered in a sheen of sweat and he was pulling in deep labored breaths that were raspy and tight.

“Doc said his lung collapsed but that it was healing. He had to reset all of the bones on the right side of his body because he healed too fast and they fused together unevenly.” Sam’s voice shot through with pain. Paul saw the guilt there—Sam thought it was his fault that Jake got hurt and thought he’d never forgive himself.

Grace, still entranced, pulled herself onto the bed next to Jake. She shimmied herself into the left side of his body that wasn’t wrapped up in gauze and buried her head in the crook of his neck. His left arm automatically circled around her waist and his breathing evened out some, the rasp cooling. Grace immediately felt the relief crash through both of them. Her pain ebbed and she let the gentle rise and fall of his chest lull her to sleep.

At some point later in the day Carlisle came in, but Grace floated in and out of consciousness as he took her vitals. He seemed perplexed by her state, muttering something about not being able to get a good read on anything since it was so inconsistent. Since he had limited knowledge on how their wolf bodies healed and even less knowledge on how Grace’s bodies interacted with theirs, he didn’t feel confident giving a determination or diagnosis.

Jacob was improving quickly and was able to be conscious for longer periods of time over the next day. He wouldn’t let anyone take Grace from him though, keeping his arm tightly around her as she struggled to pull in air through her throat. She seemed to be getting worse for some reason.

Sam spent most of his time sat in a chair in Jacob’s room or wandering up and down the short hallway, pulling at the nape of his neck. Emily was having a hard time getting him to eat.

“Should we get Ti’Hal?” she asked Sam at one point.

“Not yet.” Sam said, afraid of what she might say. But it became apparent that they’d need to call her in sooner than later when Grace stayed asleep for a solid 24 hours, the sounds in her chest starting to rattle. Jacob's lung was almost healed at this point.

When Ti’Hal shuffled into the small room, Jake was awake, his arm wound around Grace. He had slowly pulled her more and more on top of him in an attempt to bring her closer. Her body was now draped over the left side of his, her head in the center of his chest. Ti’Hal gave Jake a soft smile and put her hand to his cheek, closing her eyes.

“You’re healing well,” she acknowledged. He nodded but looked down at Grace, concern warping his features. “Ah.” she said, “But you’re not worried about you.” She moved to place her hand on Grace’s forehead and one on her back. Ti’Hal sat for awhile just listening to Grace.

“She’s healing,” she finally said. A domino of sighs could be heard in the living room where most of the pack had been milling about, listening intently. “But she’s healing you first,” Ti’Hal said definitively.

“What?” Jacob said surprised. “Why?”

“She’s healing him?” Sam said incredulously.

“First, she heals him and then herself. She protects, heals, defends, and connects. But you haven’t made it easy on her.” Ti’Hal suddenly said looking over her shoulder at Sam and then back to Jacob. She wasn’t accusatory, simply stating a fact. Something she understood better than them.

“We’re still figuring it out, Ti’Hal,” Sam said with some strain in his voice.

“Figure it out together. Or you’ll end up putting her in more danger,” she said sternly, closing her eyes once more to feel Grace and then taking her leave. “She should wake soon. I suggest you don’t move her and keep her close to Jacob so as not to interfere with the healing.” Sam nodded and helped her to the door where her granddaughter was waiting to ferry her back home.

“So we wait.” Jared said in the living room. Sam turned around and nodded.

“We wait.”

Paul stirred uncomfortably on the couch. Rachel was in the kitchen cooking them some food with the help of Emily. None of the pack wanted to be away from the Black residence or Grace for too long until they knew she was in the clear so they spent their afternoon and evening huddled in the small living room, eating and joking and watching TV or spilling out onto the lawn to kick around the soccer ball.

Word got out about “the accident” and the community showed up. Theo Merdra, the local carpenter even stopped by and made it a point to say he’d come and fix their sagging porch and install a proper wheelchair ramp for Billy. He even replaced a rusted rain gutter while he was there and had his son clean the debris from the roof.

Bella showed up every few hours to check on Jake and Grace and helped clean and cook. She brought over a duffel bag of clothes, a toothbrush, and toiletries for Grace for when she woke up knowing she’d need to shower. She asked Rachel to call her as soon as Grace was up so she could come and help.

The Black residence was soon overrun with a massive amount of food, some of Sue’s friends came by and cleaned up the house. George Runnings fixed the wiring on the back of their fridge since it kept blinking on and off. Billy was overcome with emotion. Everyone who came through did their best to keep it down to ensure they didn’t disturb Jacob or Grace. Jacob was almost fully healed by the second day and only moved from her side to go to the bathroom.

Carlisle had stayed away to ensure he didn’t overstay his welcome with the community descending on the Black home. But he was itching to get back to monitor Grace. As the sun set on the second day, Grace’s eyes fluttered open.

“Hey,” Jacob said, cupping a hand to her face.

“I need to sit up,” she croaked.

“Okay, okay,” Jake said. He pulled his body up and rested it against the wall and then gently pulled Grace between his legs so her back rested against his chest. He looped his arms around her stomach and she leaned her head back onto his shoulder, winded by the sudden movement but breathing clearly.

“How do you feel?” Jacob whispered. Grace laid her hands on top of his and looked out the window at the people gathering around a makeshift bonfire in the twilight. Seth was kicking a ball around with Jared and Embry. The sounds of happy voices floated in through the window.

“Like shit.” Grace finally breathed. “But better. You?”

“Like new,” he said, kissing the side of her head. She closed her eyes at the warm feeling.

“How long have I been out?”

“Couple of days.”

“Mmm,” she replied, lazily sinking into Jacob’s embrace and turning her head to face into his neck. He rested his head lightly on top of hers and pulled her in a little closer, making sure she was tightly nestled into his body.

“Grace?” Jacob said softly.

“Mmm?” she replied again, starting to drift in and out.

“We really need a shower.” He laughed softly, his body shaking her some and her face cracked into a smile, starting to laugh too.

“Oh my god,” she mumbled. “Gross.” Tears sprang to Jacob’s eyes as he pressed another firm kiss to her forehead. He was so happy she was awake, she was alive, and she was here. The thought of losing her in that clearing suddenly washed over him and he squeezed her ever so slightly.

“You okay?” Grace muttered sleepily, her hand coming to gently rest on his cheek where she felt the clear damp of tears on his face.

“Fine. You just smell...really really bad. It’s making my eyes water.” he joked, letting out a choked laugh.

“Nice one,” she breathed before drifting off to sleep.

Late that evening, Grace was feeling good enough to get up. With Jake behind her, she stood on her own two feet and only winced a couple of times before standing upright. She stretched her neck around and shook out the pain in her hands. Rachel was in the doorway of the room supervising.

“I’ll call Bella,” she said and disappeared into the kitchen. Grace made her way slowly into the hallway toward the living room. Leah was there, biting her thumb and when she saw Grace come into the room and shot to her feet.

“Grace, I’m so so sorry,” she said. She’d been holding in her guilt for the past three days. Grace waved her off and said,

“Leah, it’s fine. Are you okay?” Leah nearly crumbled at this question and nodded her head quickly. “Good.” Grace paused for a second and then looked dejectedly at her feet, “I really have to pee.” Leah bounded over as an uncertain look crossed Jake’s face.

“I got it.” she said and led Grace to the bathroom.

“Bella should be here in 15. Leah, fill up the tub while you’re in there.” Rachel called. Total mom-mode. She hugged Jacob and confirmed that he indeed did smell.

“I’ll wait until Grace is done,” he said. “Got some grub?” Rachel smiled and opened the stuffed fridge. “Woah.” he said.

“Take your pick. Or you can wait. I’m making mom’s homemade lasagna,” She smiled at him and he felt so glad that she was home again. Just then the pack spilled through the open door elated and pulled Jacob into a group hug.

“You’re alive!” Seth cried.

“Thought you were a goner for sure.” Quil said.

“Yeah, what took you so long?” Embry said.

“Jeez Jake, way to hog all the healing for yourself,” Jared jabbed. Sam came through the door and looked to Jake.

“She okay?” The worry was still there.

“Yeah, she’s in the bathroom with Leah,” Jake said, giving him a reassuring smile. Sam nodded, relief pulling down across his shoulders.

“Who’s hungry?” Rachel said, pulling out some freshly baked lasagna. Bella arrived, taking a second to hug Jake tightly before saying, “Where is she?”

“Bathroom,” multiple voices answered her before Jake could even open his mouth.

“Okay,” she said, her face looked flushed as she headed down the hall. She knocked on the door, announcing her presence before pushing it open. Leah came out a few seconds later and gathered around the table with the others.

“God, I haven’t heard someone pee for that long in my entire life.”

There was a chorus of ‘Ewws’ and ‘I’m eating’ and ‘When you gotta go you gotta go’ followed by laughter around the table as the group dug into the food.

#twilight fanfiction #twilightfanfic #twilight #new moon #eclipse #jacobblackxoc #jacobblack #jacobxoc #paul lahote #edward cullen #bella swan #the cullens #the pack #chapter 26 #a monster lives here

19 notes · View notes

swaps55 · 4 years ago

Note

Writer asks 2, 4, 9, 10 ;)

2. What’s your least favourite thing you wrote this year?

A ‘wordless ways to say I love you’ prompt didn’t quite come out the way I wanted. I fussed with it before posting it and have fussed with it since, but it’s ultimately too complex of a thought to distill into a short prompt. I stand by the concept; it’s just the execution that tripped. There’s a line in it I really love, but the rest never really accomplished what I hoped.

4. Which of your fics this year was most successful?

On Ao3, Sonata, no matter what metric you go by, be it tangible or intangible. It was proof I still know how to write a novel, it challenged me to levels of character development and plot complexities I don’t think I’ve ever aspired to before, and it’s some of the best writing I’ve ever produced.

I don’t usually like comparing my statistics to someone else’s because it depresses me really quickly, but while Sonata will never compete with top fics in the ship tag as far as kudos go, I did discover an insane metric about it the other day. If you sort the ship tag by # of comments, Sonata is somehow fifth on the all-time list. WHAT. But the kicker? It’s only 77k words and 13 chapters. The fics ahead of it are well over 100k (in one case, over 300k), and over 30 chapters each. Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?

That’s an insane amount of engagement for one fic, written 8 years after the trilogy came to a close. My eyes nearly fell out of my head when I saw that. I have never gotten the level of comments on a fic that I did with Sonata. I’ve reread every single one countless times.

That fic and those comments introduced me to SO MANY amazing people (including YOU, @mallaidhsomo!). I’m telling you, that fic is such a gift. I’ll never have anything like it again. It’s like going to the winner’s circle on Kentucky Derby Day.

On tumblr, I think the most successful fic was a kiss prompt where Garrus accompanies an overexcited Sam back to Earth after a visit to Tuchanka. I’m pretty fond of that one, too, heh.

9. If you could go back and change something about one of the fics you wrote this year, what would it be?

I really wish I’d figured out the headcanon that Sam’s implant is responsible for his blood sugar struggles before finishing Sonata. That would have been a fun detail to work in. I might do that later, but when I post a fic I tend to just move on with it and let it stay finished, even if it has warts. If I actually pursue my plan to get a printed copy of Sonata, I might make that revision, but otherwise, eh. Sometimes it’s fun to watch how characters and headcanon evolve over the course of writing about them.

10. What, if anything, are you going to try to do differently in your writing in the new year?

[cracks knuckles]

Once Fugue is done, it’s time to move on to Mezzo, the next story in the Saga of Sam and Kaidan. If I can pull it off, the opening chapter will be one of the most challenging things I’ve ever tried to do. It’ll involve 2nd person and an idea I’ve had for 6-7 years but never figured out how to execute. WISH ME LUCK.

#mallaidhsomo #swaps replies #meme replies #mememe #thank you!!!!!

17 notes · View notes

padfootagain · 4 years ago

Text

Girl Crush (III)

Chapter 3: Hydrangeas And Rain

Here we go with a third chapter! As I've written ahead with this story (unbelievable coming form me, I know…) I'm gonna try to keep on posting every 48 or 72 hours :)

No warnings in this, except for tooth-rotting fluff!

Word Count: 2429

Harry and you had spent quite a lot of time together for the past few weeks, and over the course of the last couple of months you had grown to be good friends. He made you laugh like crazy, and the more time you spent with him, the more you were certain that your first impression had been right. He truly was a nice person.

And Harry found your kindness radiant, as well as your wits as hilarious as he had hoped for.

It was easy for the two of you to become friends. The universes you evolved in were different, yet your views of the world were similar. You could spend hours listening to him telling you crazy stories about his tours across the world, and you told him about the stupidest questions your customers asked. He taught you about music, and you taught him about flowers. You had never thought to find curiosity towards this field, yet kept on asking Harry questions about notes and guitars and his favourite songs. Maybe you had underestimated the interest you would find in this art, perhaps it was also because Harry made it so interesting. And he asked about all the flowers you had in the shop, and remembered your favourite ones, and was eager to learn more about plants. If he were to be completely honest, he hadn't thought that he would ever want to learn so many details about plants, but maybe it was only because you were teaching him all these things that he was so curious.

It was Thursday, and for the last 4 weeks, some kind of tradition had settled between you and Harry, where he would pick you up at the end of your shift and you would spend the evening together, either going to the cinema or simply talking around a pizza or walking along the beach near L.A as you had planned on doing tonight.

You were running late though, and Harry was walking around the shop, smelling flowers and admiring vivid colours, his hands clasped behind his back, his sunglasses resting upon his head, and he was biting on a chewing-gum.

The sight of Harry in the shop was so normal by now that none of your colleagues asked him if he wanted to buy anything. They gave him a polite smile, and left him alone to patiently wait for you to be done with your day of work.

Your hand was mostly healed and your days had taken back their crazy pace. You found it refreshing to spend time with a new friend, someone who didn't make a living in selling flowers the way you did. Your determination to become a successful florist had left you with only one or two friends who didn't work in your field of expertise. But spending time with Harry made you realize that maybe you had been missing out for the past few years. Perhaps you had narrowed your life too much during your studies, closing your vision to only keep whatever was linked to your big dream. You were reminded these days though that there was a broader world out there to be listened to and experienced. Which was why, despite your busy schedule and demanding job, you still made time for Harry these days, and if you were honest, were eager to see him again once you parted.

"Just two minutes!" you told him for the fifth time since he had passed the door, rushing across the store to add a new bouquet to the bucket next to him.

He chuckled in response.

"Take your time. I don't mind."

"I just need three… four minutes… four minutes!"

"I love how time expands whenever I'm around you," he joked, making you laugh.

"Shut up! I'm feeling bad for making you wait already."

"Good. I do hope you're feeling terrible to let me with nothing to do but admire these hydrangeas."

You gave him a proud smile.

"Mr. Styles, we might make a florist out of you yet!"

He winked at you, a playful smile on his lips.

"Maybe my teacher is just very talented."

"Oh, I know it's all thanks to me!"

You disappeared to the other side of the counter again, your two laughs filling up the shop.

When you came back in your casual clothes again, Harry was taking a selfie with a perfect stranger, who seemed overexcited. He excused himself when he saw you though, but gave the three fans a little wave as he walked out of the shop with you.

It wasn't the first occurrence of fans spotting Harry and asking for a picture while the two of you were together, but you had to admit that you weren't used to it for now. Perhaps it was because you hadn't really grasped the whole concept of fame just yet.

You had listened to some of his songs by now, and recognized some of them, although you had no idea at first that he had been the one behind them. You liked his records, but you still hadn't fully realized how big his band had been.

He gave you a kind smile, while you headed for his car, a silent way for him to ask if everything was alright and to reassure you, if you needed. You nudged his arm in response, and all was fine.

It was the end of the afternoon, and some dark clouds hovered above the city, menacing and drenched in what promised to turn into heavy rain. You studied the sky, a frown forming on your face.

"It doesn't look so good."

"Should we give up on the beach idea?"

"Yeah… what about a boardgame?"

"Sounds nice to me! Your place or mine?"

"Your Scrabble is in much better shape than mine," you reminded him, and he nodded as you climbed in his car.

"Then mine it is."

You had been driving for no more than five minutes when the first large drops of rain started to explode on the windshield.

"Yep, no beach for today," Harry sighed.

"I like rainy afternoons though. They're meant to be spent in pyjamas drinking hot cocoa."

Harry couldn't help but laugh. Sometimes you spoke without thinking, just like this, and it was always to let out the most adorable thoughts.

"It's kind of true," he admitted.

"It's a tradition we had with my mom when I was little," you went on, a tender smile on your lips.

You turned to Harry, with a face that revealed that you had just had a brilliant idea. Or a particularly silly one, generally, the two were related.

"We should do that."

"Do what?" Harry frowned.

"Spend the afternoon in our pyjamas, and drink hot cocoa."

Harry exploded with laughter.

"While I beat the shit out of you at Scrabble, of course," you added.

"In your wildest dreams, I'm winning this time," he replied. "But sure, you know what? That could be fun. Let's drop by your flat and grab your pyjamas then."

It was a silly idea, but Harry humoured anyway. He drove to your flat first, let you grab a few things, and once at his house you both changed into more comfortable clothes.

But once you were both settled, sitting cross-legged on the floor around his Scrabble board, with two cups of hot cocoa, some chocolate chip cookies and the fall of rain pouring outside echoing through his large house, Harry decided that it wasn't a silly idea at all. He was wrapped in his favourite bathrobe and some oversized clothes, his hair a mess but he didn't care. And across from him, you were dressed in some adorable pink pjs with a unicorn on your t-shirt.

It felt nice. Relaxed. Despite the cold that he had imagined coming from the raindrops outside, he felt warm and happy. You reckoned that it was a reassuring thing indeed, to sit so comfortably with him.

"What about your music? Any news for that?" you asked before reaching for your third cookie, and Harry couldn't help but notice that you seemed to particularly love the biscuits.

"Yeah, I'm gonna go to London for a few weeks, get a band. See some friends who might help with that."

You nodded, and recognized the small change in his posture as his shoulder bent forwards just an inch or two.

You gave him the warmest and most reassuring smile he had ever seen.

"You're gonna be fine. I'm sure you'll find the right people, and make a great record."

"I trust your professional insight," he mocked, huffing in response.

"Don't be like that! You're gonna be fine. Just don't… put too much pressure on yourself. You're talented, if you find the right people to surround you, then nothing can stop you."

He narrowed his eyes at you.

"Have you been secretly listening to my music?"

You shrugged.

"I wouldn't say secretly. We're friends! I reckoned that I had to listen to your stuff. And I like it!"

"Thanks," he finally smiled, his dimples creasing his cheeks, and he lowered his eyes, blushing a little.

"I really do. Which is why I truly believe that… if you do what you love and don't try to go back to the past, but listen to your heart and to who you are instead, you're going to make some amazing songs."

His shoulders straightened once more, and when he looked up at you his smile made his eyes shine a little greener.

"That sounds like an awfully good advice."

"I know," you joked, letting out a chuckle. "When are you leaving?"

"In a couple of weeks."

"You… you'll call me while you're there, right?" you asked in a changed tone, that turned from warm to hesitant, doubtful even.

He looked at you as if you were being ridiculous.

"Of course, I will. And I count on you to call me too. We're friends, right?"

"Yeah, we're friends. And us being friends… does that mean that I get like… a first glance to your future masterpieces or something?"

Harry replied with a bright wave of laughter.

"Haa… I get it now! You just want the VIP seats, huh?"

You joined his own laughter.

"I mean… I'm now friend with a singer, it has to mean I get some privileges! You get the bouquets for your girlfriend, I get private concerts and first looks!"

"Private concerts too? What? You want me to start a show right now?"

"I wouldn't say no…"

"I'm dressed for the occasion, clearly," he answered while dramatically pulling up his hoodie, making you double with laughter.

You were laughing so hard your stomach was aching and your lungs burnt. It was far from a rare occurrence these days though. You guessed it was just an effect Harry had on you, or perhaps on everyone, you weren't sure of that part yet, it didn't matter though.

Harry too was holding his stomach, your laugh was too contagious for him to stop.

Once you had eventually calmed down, you guided the conversation towards a more serious tone again.

"How did Jessica take the news of you leaving though?" you asked, and Harry heaved a sigh.

"Probably as you expect her to."

"That bad, huh?"

"Yeah… I don't know, she's been giving me the silent treatment for the past two days."

"She's just sad, she's gonna be missing her boyfriend."

"Yeah, well, I'm getting a little tired of it all, to be honest."

"Of it all?" you repeated. "What do you mean?"

He didn't answer, and placed his letters on the board instead. You were used to it by now though. Harry was a rather quiet person in general, and he often fell silent when he felt uneasy or sad.

You had learnt not to push, learnt to simply wait for him to answer or choose to skip to another, completely different subject. You let silence fill the room, the clapping of the rain on the roof and against the windows playing a timeless melody.

He didn't dodge the question though. Simply took his time to think of his answer, weight his options: should he tell you or not?

"She doesn't like us spending so much time together. She's a bit jealous, I think."

Your head shot up from the board to his eyes, but Harry was writing his score on a piece of paper, and deliberately avoiding your gaze.

"Oh," you let out. "Would that help if I talked to her? Tell her she has nothing to worry about?"

He shook his head.

"No, no… I'm… I try to reassure her, she's not convinced. If I can understand jealousy to a certain extent, I can't seem to shake the thought off her head, and I'm getting a bit tired of it."

You nodded, your movement slow and reluctant.

"Would it be better if we spent less time together."

But Harry frowned hard.

"Why would we do that? You… you want to do that? You… think we're spending too much time together?"

"No, no! I… I don't want to, I'm glad to have you as a friend. But… maybe it could help you and Jessica…"

"I'm not going to be sorry for the friends I care about, and I'm not going to yield over some stupid nonsense and lose a friend."

"She's your girlfriend."

"Yeah, and she should trust me when I tell her that there's nothing between you and me, and we're just friends, and that I would never cheat on her, period," he went on, his voice getting angrier.

"What are you going to do about it then?"

"Nothing," he shrugged. "There isn't much I can do. She chooses not to believe me."

"And I'm guessing that you going away is not making things easier between the two of you…"

"Not exactly."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I hope you can pull it through with her."

"Yeah… I hope so too. But what about you?" he finally chose to change the topic and to redirect the conversation towards you. "Anything you? Anyone new?"

"Nothing new about me. And nobody new either," you answered with a chuckle. "I'm just thinking about what kind of treats I could ask my friend to send me from England as he goes away."

Harry's laugh was finally lighting up the room again, and it felt right. You reckoned that it was exactly how things ought to be: Harry laughing on a rainy afternoon in a room that smelled like cocoa. How could there be anything more reassuring and soothing in the world?

**************************************

Taglist : @ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet @notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky @snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity @i-padfootblack-things @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi@jigsawlover10 @emyyjemyy @addictedtofictionalcharacters @staringmoony

@madamrogers @cronias13

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles series #harry styles imagine #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

67 notes · View notes

monkeymindscream · 4 years ago

Note

Any ideas on what's behind Belos' mask

I have several, actually!

(Please excuse the rushed and shitty sketches I made to illustrate my point; I got overexcited.)

First theory for what’s under the mask:

An old guy!

So as far as I’ve been able to tell, the biggest theory regarding EB right now is that he’s actually human. Mostly because he allegedly came out of nowhere, he uses magic differently than any other witch we’ve seen so far, and... I dunno, it’d make him a foil to Luz, I guess?

I’m actually not a very big fan of this theory, if only because I find it achingly boring. We’ve all seen the whole “the villain isn’t actually as impressive as he pretends to be it’s all smoke and mirrors whaaaaaaaaaaat!” -shtick a million times by now. It’s been done to death. The idea of him coming out of nowhere because he came from somewhere else entirely is also super dull - ditto him lying about being able to talk to the Titan. I’m desperate for a more creative and unique backstory here. EB’s already such an amazing villain and I don’t even think he’s clocked a full five minutes of screen time yet - he deserves it. C’mon Dana,I believe in you to switch things up! Don’t let me down! (seriously please I’m begging you)

Regardless, my feelings towards this concept don’t eliminate it as a possibility, so here it is.

Also even if he’s not human there’s an additional chance that he’s just an old witch, in which case just picture the guy above but with pointy ears.

(Pulled this design out of my butt by the way, so that’s why it’s less than interesting)

Second theory:

A sentient cloud with angry-eyes!

Maybe there’s nothing behind his mask, y’know? Maybe there’s nothing inside his robes at all. Maybe he is, in actually, the Titan itself rather than just a “humble messenger” like he claimed. He appeared out of nowhere because he’s literally a manifestation of the Titan’s soul or will or something that its using to preach the good word. The reason he says he can “talk” to the Titan rather than just admit he is the Titan is because for some reason the idea of a powerful witch becoming a mouthpiece is a lot easier to swallow than some rando going “I am the ground you walk on and I am annoyed as fuck. Listen to me dammit.”

Or maybe Bel doesn’t realize he’s a part of of the Titan, and this is like a Clayface-Annie scenario from Batman: The Animated Series. Maybe we’ll get a dramatic moment in season two where Belos realizes he’s not actually real. He’s just a tool being used to meet an end.

Third theory:

An abomination that’s gained sentience!

This post by @coldspaghittieart had me screaming. Whether or not it turns out to be true (I almost want to say it’s too cool to be true?) it does fill a lot of the holes we currently have for EB almost perfectly.

Why did he apparently just “appear” one day? Because he was created, and didn’t have a past before a certain point. Plus, since he would’ve had to have been made during the Savage Ages, where people were apparently mixing magic left and right, who’s to say someone didn’t oops and make a hyper-intelligent abomination?

Why does he need to break open palismans and absorb their magic? Because abominations are (presumably) only meant to be temporary footsoldiers; he needs to consume magic because he’s made of magic, and is rapidly deteriorating as his dwindles.

Why does he cover himself completely with a mask and robes and gloves? Because people learning he’s not a true witch (or demon, or even human, or literally anything they wouldn’t view as potentially expendable) could severely undermine his authority.

Finally, abominations in the show don’t seem able to do anything unless someone instructs them to - Belos claims he’s taking constant direction from the Titan.

Honestly this is my favorite theory out of the whole bunch, if only because there’s so many fun ways I can think of to play around with it. Might fuck around and make it into a full-blown AU so I have a back-up prepared if and when canon disappoints me.

Dana I want to trust you, I do, but after SvtFoE I’m having a difficult time doing that. I need time to heal, and in the mean time I’m doing what I can to protect myself.

Little thing on my thought process as I was scribbling this: His face looks kind of like a skull both because I was attempting to make him look like a more smoothed-out/next-stage version of the abominations we see in in the show (whose faces are all very jack’o’lantern-like), and because oh come on Eda calls him “bonehead” at one point and then he did the Sans’ eye thing. It’s destiny.

Fourth theory:

He’s literally just a weird bird guy.

I don’t have a reason for this beyond I think it would be super funny if there’s all this mystery surrounding what EB actually looks like and then it’s just. It’s his mask, but now he can emote.

#emperor belos #testingforcake23 #muttering about owls #owl house #abomination Belos AU

14 notes · View notes

the-angst-chronicles-fanworks · 4 years ago

Text

DRACO’S WISH [PT 4/14]

<< | < | > | >>

WORD COUNT: 2817

PAIRING: Drarry

TAGS:

hidden identity

Down and Out Draco Malfoy

Pretty Draco Malfoy

Talented Draco Malfoy

Auror Harry Potter

Smitten Harry Potter

Harry Potter Being an Asshole (just for a while)

Angst

Fluff

Angst with a Happy Ending

Falling In Love

Torture

Skipping Meals/Hunger

Cold Weather

Libraries

Hot Chocolate

SUMMARY: Draco does a good deed and is granted a wish - 12 days of anonymity in a world that hates him CHAPTER SUMMARY: Potter shows up and insists on buying Draco a drink

on FF.net

on AO3

STORY:

December 11th , 2007

Draco wakes to an absolutely frigid morning and cold sun in his eyes, but for once it doesn’t dampen his mood. He’s positively chipper as he hurries through his morning shower and pulls on his stiff, cold clothes. He manages to get his stove working and, though he’s skipping breakfast today, he boils plain water in lieu of tea. He just barely waits until it’s cool enough before sipping it from a chipped mug, enjoying the warmth it brings.

He briefly flirts with the idea of trying a warming charm for the apartment, but it’s not a serious consideration. Why potentially waste an extinguisher when he now has a perfectly warm library available to him instead?

There’s no reason to dawdle around his apartment so he doesn’t – he slips into the empty hallway and then down the stairs and out to the street. It’s a cold but quick trek up Knockturn and then onto Diagon where the harsh weather prevents him from spending too much time admiring the splendor.

The street is less busy today, likely as a result of both the temperature and the early hour, but it’s still lively. Draco thankfully has no run-ins with Potter today on his way to the library.

The warm, familiar smell of books and ink greets him as he pushes into the building. The librarian, sitting behind the counter today, looks up and nods to him in greeting.

“Good morning,” Draco returns with a polite smile. He makes a beeline, this time, straight to the back where he’d found the volumes on wandless magic yesterday. He’d just reached the section of the book dedicated to harmonizing energy, magic, and intent, when he’d had to leave yesterday, and he’s eager to return to it.

He spends several hours there, reading theory and running through the practice exercises in the book. They’re not spells, not really, just exercises to learn to handle his magic better, and they’ve nothing to do with heat besides, so he’s not particularly worried about starting fires. They are, after all, designed for beginners, and therefore start small. A pleasant result of this, he finds, is that he’s not exhausted or hungry after practicing. Well… okay, he is hungry because he’s always hungry, but he’s not more so than usual.

People come and go from the library, but nobody pays him any mind and nor does he pay them any. Despite the steady traffic, the library is quiet, and Draco is well able to ignore them all and descend into his study.

So his day goes, until just after the library clock strikes 2 o’clock. That’s when Potter and Granger show up. Draco doesn’t see them, but he hears their voices, easily recognizable from being so often on the wireless – Granger is chattering about wizarding law and magical creates, and Potter is humouring her with one-word answers. Draco’s head shoots up, pure panic searing through his veins.

He glances wildly around but doesn’t catch sight of them – they’re somewhere else in the library – and he’s already half out of his seat and considering how best to make a break for it before his mind catches up with him. He pauses, taking a calming breath. Right, he’s being a fool again. They won’t recognize him. To them, he’s just a stranger in a library.

Draco forces himself to calm down, tentatively perching back on the edge of his armchair. He flicks open his book again, his muscles still tense as he looks unseeingly at the pages. But minutes go by and nothing happens, and Draco feels himself relaxing again.

His fingers loosen their grip on the book, and he allows himself to sink further into the armchair and actually start reading again. It’s interesting stuff, the theory behind wandless magic and the changes that must be adjusted for when not using a conduit. He lips move along silently as he reads a passage about the delicacy of shaping and directing magic by will alone.

There’s an exercise here too, walking him through the steps to produce harmless sparkles and then working through controlling the amount, shape, and intensity of them. It’s not a direct, straightforward endeavor, of course, where one simply follows a series of instructions and achieves a result. This is more nuanced, the instructions more abstract, requiring interpretation and creativity to apply them.

But Draco has had a lot of practice working with his magic, and many of these concepts come easily to him now. He feels he’s progressing though the book faster than he would ordinarily, had he not spent so much time reaching into himself and trying to guide his own magic.

The text expects that it will take several days of practice to even pull one’s magic up far enough to get sparkles, but it’s infinitely easier than heating charms and Draco has them dancing around before him in a matter of minutes. Changing their properties is more of a challenge, one that Draco dives into with enthusiasm. He spends the better part of an hour learning how to make sparkles bend to his whim.

He’s having fun making little sparkle fireworks when he looks up and sees Harry Potter standing there and staring at him. He lets out a surprised squawk, the sparkles fizzling out unceremoniously.

Potter flushes and scratches at the back of his head. “Sorry about that,” he says. “You’re the bloke from yesterday right? The one I ran into?”

Draco’s mouth opens and closes uselessly, not sure what to say. Potter remembers him, from bumping into him in the street. Potter is talking to him. Normally. What the fuck?

The silence hangs, awkward, for a beat before Potter fills it. “I really am sorry you know,” he says, and it’s no less awkward now that he’s speaking. Draco casts about for something to say.

“I…it’s fine,” he settles on faintly. He’d said as much yesterday hadn’t he? He distinctly remembers babbling nonsense of that sort at Potter.

Potter shakes his head, scuffing his strange muggle shoes against the warm carpet as he peers at Draco again. “You ran off so quickly yesterday,” he says, surprisingly unsure. “I didn’t get a chance to offer, but I’d like to buy you a drink. To make it up to you.”

Draco frowns, opening his mouth to tell Potter, again, that it’s fine, but Potter heads him off. “I know you said it’s okay,” he says quickly, “but it would make me feel better.” When Draco still doesn’t answer, he tilts his head, gives him a beseeching look that makes him look a little like a baby Crup, and says “Please?”

“Umm…” Draco replies intelligently, clutching his book hard and holding ut in front of him like a barrier. He shouldn’t accept, he really shouldn’t. He’s already decided it best that he stay far away from Potter, no matter how cutely he’s behaving at the moment. If Potter remembers who he is, it will ruin everything.

But Potter is offering him a free drink that isn’t water, and maybe Draco can get him to throw in a bit of food that won’t deplete his meagre stash…

Draco’s stomach turns restlessly, reminding him of how perpetually hungry he is. He knows that he shouldn’t, but he can’t resist.

“Throw in a bagel and I’ll consider it,” he decides, and Potter’s eyes light up.

“Brilliant!” He says eagerly, bouncing slightly on his heels like an overexcited kid. He gestures at Draco’s book. “Let’s get that checked out and we can go,” he says.

He wants to go right now? Draco looks at him in shock, but he seems perfectly serious, still looking over at Draco’s book.

“Oh, erm, never mind that. I’ll just…” Draco trails off awkwardly, nodding toward the shelves. Potter waits as he gets up and re-shelves the book.

Potter takes his arm as soon as he’s finished putting the book away, half-leading and half-dragging him toward the front of the library. They take a small detour to the section on wizarding law, where Granger is browsing the shelves with single-minded determination, so that Potter can call his goodbyes. He barely waits for her reply before he’s leading Draco away again.

They walk down Diagon Alley for a way, passing half-a-dozen little cafes that Potter shows no interest in, and then turn off onto another little street. It’s also a commercial street, but it’s smaller than Diagon, quainter and quieter. It’s still resplendent with Christmas lights, but it has a different air; the quieter atmosphere lends a sense of magic to the air that catches Draco’s breath and causes him to gaze about in awe. It’s such a mundane thing to be excited about, something his younger self would not have even noticed, but now that his life consists of the drab, bland, dankness of Knockturn Alley, he doesn’t take such beauty for granted.

Potter draws them to a stop then, and he turns to see him watching Draco with a smile. Draco quirks an eyebrow, but Potter merely shakes his head, before turning and gesturing to a tiny shop.

“I know it doesn’t look like much, but they have the best drinks here. I swear it.” Potter says. He pulls open the door and holds it for Draco, who feels oddly flustered at the gesture. He ducks his head and murmurs his thanks before he steps inside, moving out of Potter’s way and looking around.

It’s tiny and cramped, with mismatched furniture, scrubbed wooden floors, and pale-yellow walls. It’s not fashionable at all, but it’s bright and warm and Draco likes it. A young witch is behind the counter, chatting with a wizened old man, and other than that the store is empty.

Potter steps up beside him and turns a warm smile on him. “What would you like to drink?” He asks, gesturing to the menu written in chalk behind the front counter. Draco looks over to it, but there are so many options – the board is covered completely with cutesy writing declaring the names of various drinks – that he can’t decide. Tea is a treat for Draco these days.

Potter is still looking at him expectantly, and he burns in embarrassment at failing such a simple task as deciding his drink. “Surprise me,” he hedges. Potter nods, starting to turn away, and Draco adds hastily, “but make it sweet!” He feels his cheeks flush again as Potter chuckles.

“Alright, something sweet,” he says, his green eyes impossibly soft. Draco has never seen those eyes look at him with anything but hatred, and having it now sends electric sparks through his body. Draco shudders, forcing the thought away.

Belatedly, he realises Potter’s saying something to him. “Sorry?” He asks. His face is going to be permanently red at this point.

Potter raises his eyebrows, but he’s smiling. “I said, why don’t you get us seats and I’ll get the drinks.”

Draco raises an eyebrow of his own and looks pointedly around the empty café. “That may be a hardship, what with this crowd, but I’ll try my very best,” he cheeks. Potter outright laughs at that.

“Alright, Mr. Sass, just go sit down,” he says. Draco smirks but turns to comply, while Potter approaches the counter. He hears, from behind him, the girl at the counter saying “Harry! Back so soon?”, and Potter answering with something too quiet for Draco to hear.

He chooses the little round table nearest to the front window and sits, looking out at the twinkling street. Once upon a time, he would have looked down on a place like this. Now, he barely feels that he belongs, with his holey gloves and tattered, baggy clothes. He privately thanks Potter’s apparently overly active sense of remorse that’s led to him being here.

Potter soon comes back, levitating a mug of something steaming, that’s topped generously with whipped cream, and a freshly toasted bagel in front of him. It’s soon followed by a platter of pastries that slides into place between them. Draco blinks at these and then looks questioningly up at him. “What are these then?” he asks. Potter flushes.

“They’re – ah – something sweet,” he explains haltingly, scratching at the back of his head. Merlin, no wonder his hair was a mess. Still, it’s an exceedingly decent thing of Potter to do, and certainly not anything he’s used to.

“Thank you,” he replies, quiet but honest. Potter beams at him, and Draco smiles back as he sips at his drink, which he is delighted to find is hot chocolate.

“So…” says Potter, sliding into the seat across from him, “I never did get your name.”

Draco freezes – can he give Potter his own name? Will that break this anonymity he’s been granted? He’s not sure, and he doesn’t want to chance it.

“Emory,” he says, thinking of the dashing love interest in the romance novel sitting on his bed. “Emory Hughes.”

“Emory Hughes,” Potter repeats, smiling. “I’m Harry Potter.”

“I know,” says Draco without thinking, then clamps his mouth shut, eyes widening. Luckily, Potter doesn’t seem suspicious.

“I had wondered,” he says instead, laughing, and Draco is struck again by how handsome Potter is. He swallows nervously and, to distract himself, takes a pastry and pops it into his mouth. It’s good – incredible really – flaky, buttery, and filled with sweet cream. Draco can’t help his moan, closing his eyes in pleasure. Merlin, and he’d just wanted a bagel!

Potter has stopped laughing somewhat abruptly, and Draco opens his eyes to see him picking up his mug and taking a huge gulp. He then immediately flails, sputtering “Hot! Hot!” and dripping hot chocolate from his mouth and probably from his nose also.

The sight of Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World, dribbling hot chocolate is too much, and Draco can’t hold in his delighted laughter. Potter manages to get a hold of himself, dabbing at his mouth with his serviette and blushing furiously as he glares at Draco, but that only makes Draco laugh harder. Potter glares for a moment longer, and then he is laughing too. “I’m not usually this clumsy, honest!” Potter defends once they’ve both calmed down.

Draco shakes his head, tearing his bagel apart and smirking at Potter. “I don’t know,” he replies, “first you bowled me over in the Alley yesterday, and now this.” He sighs dramatically. “I think you will just have to accept the obvious – you are an utter klutz”

Harry pouts. “I hope you’ll accept all of my flaws then,” he says, and Draco grins.

“If your flaws continue buying me hot chocolate and pastries, I might just be persuaded,” he returns easily. He sips at said hot chocolate to make his point and smirks at Potter.

“Such a hardship,” Potter says. “How will my flaws and I manage?”

Draco throws a crumb of toasted bagel at him. “How dare you,” he sniffs. “I’m a delight, I’ll have you know.”

Potter gives him a once over, smirks, and says, “I see that.” Draco sputters, red-cheeked. Is Potter flirting with him? No, that can’t be possible, he’s reading too much into it. That’s just to be expected when nobody’s talked to him like a human in years, he supposes – a single modicum of human decency is shown to him, and he thinks he’s being flirted with.

Draco inwardly rolls his eyes at him self and pops a bite of bagel into his mouth. “Well, good to know those glasses are good for something then,” he says at length, far too late. Potter doesn’t call him out on it, though his green eyes are amused as he sips his hot chocolate.

Potter proves surprisingly easy to talk to, a notion that once would have sent Draco into a conniption. He’s always thought the man fit, but now as he sits chatting with him, he finds that his company is honestly pleasant as well. The afternoon passes faster than he realises, and by the time they get up to leave, the sun is hanging low and painting the sky bright with colour.

Potter walks with him back to the library, where he needs to meet up with Granger, and Draco is almost regretful as they arrive.

“Thank you, Potter,” he says, stopping just inside the library door.

“Call me Harry,” Potter insists. Draco frowns – that’s decidedly too weird. It’s not as though they’re going to see each other again anyway.

“Goodbye Potter,” he insists instead. Potter opens his mouth to argue, but at that moment Granger emerges from the stacks and catches sight of them. She makes a beeline toward Potter, and Draco nods a greeting at her and steps out of the way. He catches sight of Potter’s pout in the corner of his eye and grins to himself, feeling lighter than he has in years as he makes his way back to the wandless magic section.

#drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #drarry fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #writing #draco #harry #angst #fluff #draco's wish

3 notes · View notes

broken-clover · 6 years ago

Text

ACC Day 2- Stimming

Back I come! Hopefully I can get my timing a bit earlier from hereon in, tuesdays are just a wonky day for me in general. But still, have a fic! This one made me happy to write, so I hope it makes you happy, too!

Today’s has more ESRB-verse, with some Bedman!

While the ultimate goal was just to have fun and pass the time, Elphelt, Sin, Ramlethal, and Bedman liked to take turns picking locations to go to for their frequent adventures. It was still something that everyone could enjoy in their own way, but if someone caught sight of a park that they’d yet to visit or an event going on downtown that caught their eye, the group would set a course for their new destination as soon as possible, taking turns each time.

Well, that was how it was supposed to go. In between Sin’s forest hikes, Ram’s lunch suggestions, and El’s marketplace trips, it was rare that Bedman would slip in his own idea. It wasn’t for lack of opportunity- his friends made it very clear that he was more than welcome to suggest something he’d like to do. But every time the discussion came up, the boy shot it down, claiming that his interests would be too dull for anyone else to enjoy it.

After more than a few attempts, Sin took it upon himself to try something that he thought his friend would like. It only seemed fair for him to be able to do things that interested him. After mentioning his plans to Elphelt and Ramlethal, the half-Gear grabbed as many newspapers as he could find lying around and retreated to the dining room table with a thick red marker.

A local football game? Eh...

Camping? He definitely wouldn’t like that.

A new winery opening up? Legally speaking, none of them were old enough to drink.

“Sin?” Ky’s voice grabbed his attention. “What are you working on?”

“Trying to think of something fun to do today.” He propped himself up on his arms. “But I can’t think of anything that Bedman would like. We never get to do stuff he likes.”

“Hmm…” Ky sat down nearby him, placing a stack of paperwork on the table. “Let’s see. I see your friend in the library quite often. He’s very interested in the sciences, correct?”

Sin perked up, just a little. “Yeah? You got an idea?”

“Let me take a look at that paper.” After being handed the bundle, Ky started flipping through. His eyes skimmed the pages rapidly, quickly settling on an article somewhere within it and tapping it with a finger. “I thought so. The museum of science over in the east district is opening a new exhibit on magical engineering. Lots of old airship frames and train prototypes, that kind of thing. Maybe that would be a good idea?”

“Engineering?” Sin took the paper back, now marked with a red circle. The article at least made it sound interesting. Plus, it was something sciency, so there was a pretty good chance Bedman would at least find the concept interesting.

Worth a shot, right?

++++++

“Sin, where are we going?”

Midday travels weren’t really out of the ordinary, but it wasn’t as common that nobody would say where they were headed off to. Even after spending ten minutes trudging downtown, Bedman hadn’t even manage to decipher whose sort of idea it was to go out in the first place.

“It’s a surprise!” Replied Sin, the closest thing to an answer he had gotten thus far.

“I don’t like surprises, Sin. Can you please just tell me where we’re going?”

“Hmph. Fine.” The other boy pouted. “We’re going to a museum. But that’s all I’m telling you!”

Despite the vagueness, Bedman perked up considerably. “Oh. I will admit, that is a rather pleasant surprise.”

“See, Sin? I told you it was a good idea!” Elphelt added with a smile. “We picked it special!”

“Sin picked it.” Said Ramlethal. “We just agreed.”

The person in question raised a hand, waving it to get their attention. “Hey, I think I found it! Right down this corner…”

“G’morning, kiddos!” A smiley attendant greeted the group at the front booth as they entered. “Welcome to the Illyria Museum of Science! Four adolescent tickets?”

“Yep!” Sin slapped down a stack of cash that Ky had given him. “You guys have all the engines and stuff, right?”

The woman blinked mutely for a moment. “Ah. Yes, the transportation engineering exhibit is up and running.” She handed him a map and pointed to a spot on it, marked with a little star. “It’s on the first floor, in the blue wing. There’s arrows at most of the corners if you lose track of where you are.”

“Cool, thanks!” After grabbing the tickets and the map, Sin spun around. “Everyone alright? Ready to go?”

“I think so.” Elphelt replied. “You guys ready?”

“I’m prepared to go.” Ram nodded.

“I’m ready.” Oddly, Bedman seemed at full attention, and his hands almost seemed to be twitching.

Elphelt turned to him. “Something wrong?”

“No, no.” His hands slowed, gripping the hem of his gown to keep them from moving again. “Just got a bit overexcited.”

“Well, don’t stop yourself on our account!” Sin beamed back. “We came here because we thought you’d like it! Go nuts if you want!”

Though his hands stayed still, Bedman all but ran ahead of the group as they started towards the exhibit. He kept slowing himself down as his friends looked over little displays on the way to the blue wings, bouncing restlessly on his heels until they could start moving again.

The narrow hallway dumped out into a massive room, with a vaulted ceiling spanning overhead at least thirty feet up. The room was filled with giant displays, many with full-sized engines or twining bundles of cable and machinery. An inert train snaked across the center, trailed by a dozen passenger cars.

“Ah…” Without even appearing to notice, Bedman started bouncing on his heels again, hands twitching and tapping against the air.

“C’mon, we said you could go ahead!” Sin was quick to remind him. “No need to wait for us!”

The boy didn’t seem to need any more prompting. In a flash of lavender, he was leaning towards one of the glass-walled sections displaying a set of rusty train wheels and pistons. “Ahh! I’ve only seen these in books! I don’t think they’ve used this type of metal since the 2070’s!”

“Solid steel?” Ramlethal managed to glide up next to him, and peered at the little descriptor card. “It seems that would be remarkably heavy.”

“Absolutely! And it was, that’s why they got rid of that kind. But they pulled these off of a real prewar train!”

Apparently satisfied with that short explanation, he moved onto the section next to it, leaving the other three for once scrambling after him, instead of the other way around.

“The Stendrive outboard propulsion system? They used these for boats! Engineers sometimes called them ‘fishtail engines’ because of the big fins at the end of it!”

It was such a bizarre sight to witness, but it brought a warm feeling with it. Bedman was running back and forth between displays, eyes shining while he wore the biggest smile any of them had ever seen on him. All the while, he kept bouncing in place, hands swishing back and forth by his sides. Every time he stopped in front of a new engine or propeller, he raised his hands up and started moving them like he was trying to shake off water. Puzzling, but there was something endearing about his eagerness.

“The Hercules Engine!” He half shouted, immediately scooting over to the next pane of glass.

“The model M-89 airship!” Bounce-flap-flap.

“The Wiseau Magi-tech converter!” Bounce-flap-flap.

“You really like engineering stuff, huh?” Sin laughed, trying to keep pace.

“Oh, I don’t like engineering as much as I like language and literature.” Bedman slowed for a second. “But this is incredibly fascinating, too! I like learning about how society and industry move around. It’s just so intriguing to consider all the technologies that lead us to where we are now!”

Before he could reply, Sin found himself left behind once more. When he managed to find Bedman again, he was hanging off the end of the giant train on display.

“Hey, Sin! Sin! The sign says you can get on the train! Get on the train!”

“No need to tell me twice. Guys! Check this thing out! Wanna see the inside?”

Internally, he jotted down a few notes. Engineering, language, and literature. Even if Sin didn’t know much about any of them, he was certainly going to have to now. He wasn’t used to seeing his friend so earnestly happy.

He was going to have to find a way to make him light up like that again.

#autistic creative challenge #writing #guilty gear #ESRBverse #Bedman #sin kiske #elphelt valentine #ramlethal valentine

15 notes · View notes

starryeyed-char · 7 years ago

Text

Realities

THANK YOU FOR 2K FOLLOWERS! Here’s a long (for me, 4K words) one-shot to celebrate! On AO3 I’m going to split it into two parts, but here I wanted it all in one place... so...

It’s Keith-centric, canonverse klangst (we’re still throwing the angst at Lance dw) that could be seen as platonic or romantic and is very loosely based off of my addition to this post but with Keith. It’s set after the fourth episode of season 3 at first, and then switches to post-season 4, so just be aware of that.

Summary: After traveling to a different reality, Keith wants to ask Slav about it, as the whole concept confuses him. What he finds out, however, is far from what he wanted to hear. Apparently, there are a lot of realities in which things don’t end too well, particularly for Lance.

Keith wasn't sure how the others could stand it. Ever since they'd returned from the alternate reality, thoughts of it had been plaguing his mind. He even found himself pondering it more than where Shiro might've gone.

But then again, the Shiro of the other reality didn't so much as recognize Keith. In fact, he was an entirely different person. The outcome of the war had a butterfly effect, and the two timelines were so drastically different that it made his head spin.

He almost understood why Slav was so crazy, and unable to talk about anything else. If Keith knew every possible outcome of every situation and what said outcomes could lead to, he was sure he'd have gone insane, genius or no.

He'd resolved to discuss the topic with Slav, and told the team as much at breakfast one morning.

Lance nearly choked on his food goo. “You want to do what?!”

“I feel like talking to Slav will give me a better understanding of alternate realities,” Keith said. “Come on, after today you guys have got to be as curious as I am, right?”

Lance shook his head. “Absolutely not. That guy's insane! If you find out all the possibilities you're going to be just as paranoid as him! Then who would make the reckless decisions around here?”

Pidge raised an eyebrow. “Still you, Lance.”

“Okay, but Slav is still crazy! He's the reason why my fear of airlocks keeps returning to haunt me!” Lance looked around at the rest of his team for support. “Every time an airlock is involved, I nearly die! He's got it out for me!”

“Lance, you nearly die all the time just fine on your own,” Pidge told him. “You don't need anyone's help on that matter.”

“I don't know, maybe someone talking to Slav is a good idea,” Hunk said. “Have any of you been to talk to him since the fight with Zarkon? He's going to be here until we take a wormhole to his planet, and I bring him food sometimes...”

“I go to ask him about our strategies for missions occasionally,” Allura spoke up. “Though he's usually not much help.”

“You can talk to him as much as you want, Keith, but it'll probably just stress you out more. Why don't you just do what I do? Go with the flow! Whatever is going to happen will happen,” Lance said, with a smile. “No point trying to fight against fate.”

“Not everyone is as easy going as you, Lance,” Allura pointed out.

Pidge smirked. “Yeah, we can't all be idiots.”

Lance shot her a glare and opened his mouth to say something else, but Keith was already standing from the table.

“I still think it'll be worth it to at least talk to him.”

It was this mindset that brought Keith to Slav's room immediately after this. He hadn't really seen the alien around much after Shiro's disappearance, as he preferred to keep to himself while living in the castle. And as difficult as holding a conversation with him could be... if Keith was supposed to be the leader now, he thought it necessary that he ask.

When the door opened, Slav didn't even turn to look at him before speaking. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to visit me. In the vast majority of realities where you and the other paladins end up traveling across realities, we have this discussion.”

Slav turned around then, and Keith was momentarily taken aback. The alien was usually extremely overexcited to talk about all the probabilities of occurrences, but he regarded Keith with sad, weary eyes.

If Slav knew this conversation was coming... had he been dreading it? Why?

Keith shook his head to clear it. Whatever the case may be, he'd made it this far, and he wasn't going to back down until he gained a better understanding of this reality business. If Lotor knew all about it, they had to be prepared for anything.

“How... how different are the realities?” Keith finally asked. “In the other world, Alteans won the fight against the Galra, and took control of the universe. Nearly everything changed.”

Slav sighed. “A new reality is created for every possible outcome. It can be huge, like the victors in a war, or something as small as what you decided to eat for breakfast this morning.”

Keith looked at his feet, not sure if he wanted to ask. In the other reality, Shiro — or Sven, he supposed — didn't even recognize him. How could it be that under different circumstances, he and Keith may never had met?

Shiro was the only person he'd been able to count on. Without him, Keith never would've been able to pursue his dream of becoming a pilot at the Garrison.

And if he'd never gone to the Garrison, he never would've met anyone else on their team. He never would've met...

“Does...” the question was on the tip of Keith's tongue, but he couldn't ask it. He didn't want to know how many worlds there were in which Shiro and the others had never crossed his path. “Does that mean there are realities in which Shiro never disappears?”

Slav looked like he definitely didn't want to answer that. “Yes,” he said finally. “But only under drastically different circumstances.”

“What do you mean, 'different circumstances?'” he asked. Slav hesitated. “I want to know.”

“There are some realities in which you piloted the Black Lion from the beginning, with your friend Lance in Red, and Shiro in Blue. Not the majority, but some. Shiro's disappearance was due to him not being the true black paladin. It... it was always meant to be you.”

No.

“I don't understand.”

“Well, in this reality at least. Anything is possible,” Slav reminded him. The alien was clearly becoming invested. “There are realities in which Zarkon never betrayed the others, and remained the black paladin until his natural death. There are realities in which Shiro remains the black paladin, or even one of your other teammates takes up the role. But... in the overwhelming majority of realities in which your team are the Voltron paladins, you pilot the Black Lion.”

“But... if it's possible that Shiro remains the black paladin, then... isn't it possible that he could've stayed in Black after we won the battle?” Keith asked. “He'd still be the leader.”

Slav shook his head. “You misunderstand. I said before, you'd need drastically different circumstances, and winning the battle as you did his disappearance was unavoidable. Unless something equally bad or even worse were to happen. Believe me when I say that this is the best outcome you could hope for.”

Keith crossed his arms. “I don't see how this could be any worse.”

“You are all so young,” Slav said sadly. He averted his eyes from Keith's angry glare, opting to organize materials on his desk. “But you forget that you're fighting a war. Wherever Shiro is, you have no reason to believe that he's in danger. But you've already seen your teammates get injured multiple times. Would that really be preferable to you?”

“Well, at least they're still here.”

“Not always.” Slav muttered this under his breath, while absentmindedly cleaning.

Keith still heard him, and his head snapped up. “What?”

Slav glanced up at him, eyes widening. “Oh... um... I just meant that—”

“Slav,” Keith spoke through gritted teeth. “What do you mean, 'not always'? Do they... are there realities where someone dies?”

Slav didn't answer right away. His shoulders slumped. “Yes,” he finally said.

Keith wanted to punch him, even though he knew the alien wasn't to blame. He knew that he'd come there wanting to have this conversation and yet... and yet...

He'd lost too many people already. Now, even Shiro. The thought of losing another one of the teammates that he'd come to see as family... he couldn't take it.

“How?”

“You've all already been injured plenty of times,” Slav told him. “I said before, a new reality is created every time there's a different possible outcome. There are plenty of realities where those injuries were fatal... where someone couldn't be saved.”

Image after image flashed through Keith's mind then. He hadn't thought about it much until then, just how close they came to death sometimes. Keith wasn't one to dwell on close calls, or think about everything that could've gone wrong. He moved forward.

But now... now Keith was thinking about every situation in which he'd been scared out of his mind, a feeling he'd pushed back and buried as soon as his teammates were out of danger. Thinking about how, in another time and world, Keith had another broken family.

But more than that, his mind zeroed in on the recurring image. Lance.

Keith hadn't given much thought to how often the current red paladin got injured before. But now...

Lance, in an open air lock and screaming for help, holding on desperately so he wouldn't suffocate in space.

Lance, bruised and beaten at the hands of Sendak, smiling at Keith even though he'd taken all the force of a bomb.

Hell, on the mission in the other reality Lance had nearly gotten shot in the head. A blast like that... it would've killed him.

And those were just the times Keith knew about. Did Lance get himself into as much danger when he was on missions with the others?

He had a feeling he already knew the answer.

Keith had begun to see a pattern, one he wasn't sure how he hadn't noticed before. And he didn't like it.

“Who?” The word was barely a whisper. Slav stared up at him in confusion.

“You've all had close calls. There are different timelines in which different members of your team are hurt badly or—”

Keith seized the front of Slav's shirt, pulling him forward by the collar. “Who?”

Slav gulped. “I-In... in the ma-majority of... of realities where someone... one of y-you dies it's... it's the... well, it's Lance.”

And there it was.

Lance was full of himself. Selfish, arrogant, and often times a bit of an idiot. Not to mention he treated the whole thing like it was a joke half the time.

But... but the true Lance was someone brave. Daring. Focused. More clever and strategic than anyone gave him credit for.

And he'd put the lives of his friends before his own in a heartbeat.

Lance had done so, countless times.

Keith felt his eyes sting, but he refused to let the tears fall. “Is he... does he... does anything happen to him in this reality?”

Slav was still refusing to look at him. “I believe this is the reality where everything works out fine for your team but I... I can't promise anything. I won't truly know the probabilities of all that could happen until the moment. For now all I know is... his chances they... they're not very good.”

Keith let go of Slav's collar immediately, squeezing his eyes shut. He let out a slow breath before he trusted himself to speak. “Thank you,” he whispered, as he walked out the door.

Keith wasn't sure where he was headed. He didn't have the energy to go train, but he didn't want to eat, and he definitely didn't need to see the others. Maybe he should just retreat back to his room.

He bumped into someone who was running around the corner. Keith took a step back, and met the deep blue eyes of Lance.

He gave him that bright, infectious grin of his, and held up the object in his hands. “Hey, Keith. Sorry about that, I'm confiscating Pidge's laptop until she eats something. Group effort with Hunk. He makes the food, I hide the tech.”

Keith blinked. In what world did Lance apologize for bumping into him, instead of grumbling an irritated 'Watch where you're going!'

Lance's smile disappeared as he stared at Keith. “Hey, man... are you okay?”

Keith forced a weak smile, forced the tears back. “Yeah, I'm... I'm fine. My head's just reeling from talking to Slav.”

Lance snorted. “Sounds about right. Head into the kitchen, I'm sure Hunk can fix something up for you, too. I'll be there in a minute, just—”

“LANCE!” Pidge shouted from down the hall. “WHERE ARE YOU, YOU QUIZNAK?”

Lance winced, before casting Keith another quick smile. “Just gotta hide this, first,” he finished, gesturing at the laptop again. “Think that's my cue. See you later, Samurai!”

Keith stared after him before continuing on his way. He didn't go to the kitchen with Hunk and Pidge. He went straight to his room.

And for the first time in a while, Keith let himself cry.

Later that night, Keith returned to Slav's room. He didn't bother knocking, just barged right in and fixed him with a glare.

“You're wrong,” Keith said, bluntly.

Slav raised an eyebrow. “Wha—?”

“Lance isn't going to die,” Keith continued, as if he hadn't spoken. “There's absolutely zero chance that he will. Because I'm not going to let that happen. Not in any reality, not if I can help it.” didn't wait for a response, just turned and stormed back out the door.

Keith passed Lance in the hall again, who had the nerve to stick his tongue out at him.

“You blew us off earlier,” Lance said. “Think you're too good to hang out with the rest of your team, oh fearless leader?”

“I just... sorry, but if you want to do that now, we... uh, we can?”

Lance grinned. That same blinding, brilliant smile that made something in Keith's heart just float and fall all at once. He slung an arm across Keith's shoulders.

And he was falling harder than ever.

“I knew you'd come around,” Lance declared. “Can't brood in your room forever, can you, Mullet? Must get boring even for someone as emo as you—”

“Hey!”

“—but anyway, you're just in time. Hunk and Coran are about to make dinner, and I need a partner for videogames.”

Lance continued to chatter aimlessly and they walked down the hall, and Keith had never been more sure of anything in his entire life.

Maybe Keith was the black paladin now. And maybe he had to lead his team in saving the entire universe.

So to hell with probabilities and realities, because Keith was going to save Lance, too.

Keith was just coming back from a mission with the Blade of Marmora when it happened.

He wasn't willing to admit how big a part that conversation he'd had with Lance after Shiro returned had played in his decision to start drawing away from Voltron and toward the Blade. In his mind, it was simple. This was the way things would work themselves out. They could form Voltron without him, they didn't need him, and this way Keith could maybe find out more about his past...

What did it matter whether or not his heart was in it?

The way Keith saw it, Lance was right, but not about everything. There were six paladins and five lions— someone was going to have to step down. But unlike Lance, Keith knew who the truly replaceable one was.

Him.

Sure, he was a good pilot, but they'd all connected with their lions so much at this point that that was hardly relevant. He was too reckless, too impulsive to be a part of something as big as Voltron, and he knew that. He took too many risks to be responsible for the lives of other people as well as his own.

Keith took comfort in the fact that he'd still be important in the fight against the Galra Empire. He was the only paladin with multiple options like that, and he was never planning to altogether give up.

He could do what he wanted this way. Act by himself, make his own decisions, focus on missions. After all, that was what he'd wanted as a paladin... wasn't it?

So yes, if someone had to leave Voltron, it should be Keith.

Because if it wasn't Keith, it would be Allura, who'd been so excited to bond with a lion. Who he knew had grown incredibly attached to Blue, who saw the bond as a connection to everything and everyone she'd lost, as a way to fight for what they'd believed in, and keep that belief alive.

Or it would be Shiro, who Keith knew to well to be fooled. Who Keith had caught sneaking into Black's hangar multiple times, who so badly wanted back the part of him he'd lost. Keith knew what a paladin bond felt like, and he would've missed it, too.

Hell, he did miss it.

But Shiro was always a better leader. He was someone the others could follow safely, without hesitation, someone they could always trust and rely on. Someone who would protect them.

Keith had been prepared to do his best at that without him around, but now that Shiro was back... Keith didn't trust the job to himself anymore, not with how recklessly he'd led them into danger multiple times. The team was better off in Shiro's hands.

The discussion with Slav had played a pretty big role in Keith's decision, too.

And if not Shiro or Allura, then it'd be Lance. Lance, who had already practically told Keith that he thought himself to be the weakest link. Who was probably just as good of a pilot as him, though Keith would never admit it. Who had a mind for strategy and negotiations, an eye for sharpshooting, and a smile for boosting morale. A natural talent for lightening the load for.... everyone but himself. Even Keith.

Who Keith had to keep safe. Safe meant in a lion, meant protected by Voltron.

Or that's what he'd thought.

Keith let himself into the infirmary, intending to get a bandage for the small injury he'd gotten during a solo intel mission for the Blade. Nothing major, or pod-worthy.

He hadn't expected to see anyone. The team was on an infiltration mission of their own, splitting up to cover a heavily guarded base. They weren't supposed to be back for hours.

Keith knew something was wrong the second he opened the door.

There was noise, voices loud and mixing together so much that he couldn't hear any of what was being said.

Hunk was sitting off to the side with his arms wrapped around himself and staring at the floor, crying. Pidge stood beside him, her face pale as a ghost and eyes wide. They were both trembling.

Keith's eyes searched for the source of the sound. Allura, Shiro, and Matt all stood crowded around something in the middle of the room. Allura was shouting orders at Coran, who appeared to be in the process of prepping a pod. She had her hand on something, and Keith could see pink sparks of energy surrounding her. Altean magic.

Matt looked absolutely panicked as he monitored a screen, shaking his head rapidly and typing as fast as his fingers could go. Shiro had his back turned to Keith, and along with Allura blocked Keith's view of whatever was on the table.

And Keith's blood ran cold.

It's Lance.

He heard the words in Slav's voice, back when he said them what now seemed like ages ago.

And he must've shouted something out loud, but Keith couldn't hear his own voice over the rushing in his ears because no, no, this wasn't happening, this wasn't real, and—

Shiro turned, eyes wide. The entire front of his armor was covered in blood. His hands were pressed to Lance's abdomen, which was the apparent source. Allura had her own hands placed on Lance's chest, still pulsing with energy.

And Lance himself didn't stir, his eyes closed, his face void of any emotion. He looked strangely peaceful, and if it weren't for the blood, Keith could almost have believed he was sleeping.

Desperate to see anything, anyone else at that moment, Keith tore his eyes away.

That's when Keith registered what Matt was looking at. A heart rate monitor.

It was just a straight line. The ongoing beep sounded like a scream, or maybe that was just Keith again. It probably was— his throat felt raw though he couldn't remember ever speaking.

Keith couldn't remember how he ended up on the ground either, but his legs had just given out from under him because the two world shattering facts crashed into him at once.

The person on the table was dead.

And that person was Lance.

Keith was shaking now. There were tears running down his cheeks, but he paid them no mind. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen, Keith wasn't supposed to let it happen at all, but—

He didn't even get to say goodbye.

And Keith couldn't help but blame himself, because he knew. He knew that chances were, Lance would do something stupid, and heroic, and get himself killed.

And he hadn't been enough to save him.

That's when it hit Keith. He hadn't solved anything by leaving. In fact, he'd made it worse. Lance still saw himself as the weak link, but now he thought he was keeping Keith from a lion, too. And he thought that if he were to die, then Red could just go back to her original paladin.

God, he was such an idiot.

And then the line on Matt's screen jumped.

“He's got a pulse!” Shiro shouted. “Get him in a pod!” With Allura's help, this was soon accomplished. Everyone waited with bated breath for a moment while Coran sealed it, checked his vitals, and—

“He's stable. He's going to live.”

And Keith sobbed.

Everyone else had only just seemed to realize that he was there, and he couldn't blame them. The second he saw Lance on that table, Keith's vision tunneled. The image was still there, too, every time he closed his eyes.

He could feel Shiro's hand on his shoulder, hear the comforting words. “It's okay, Keith. He's going to be okay.”

But it wasn't, of course it wasn't. Nothing was okay.

Even if Lance's chest now rose and fell every so often, even if Keith could see his breath fogging up the glass, hear the beeping that signified his heart beat, it almost didn't matter.

Because sitting there, Keith knew that there was a time and space in which Lance had lost just a little more blood, or the shot had hit him just an inch or two higher.

He knew that because of what'd just happened, now there was another reality that Lance McClain wasn't a part of.

That was a reality that Keith didn't think he could live in.

But when he saw Hunk's happy tears, Pidge's shaky grin, it was impossible not to feel relieved.

Maybe, in an alternate universe, Lance was dead. But not in this universe. In this reality, Keith still got to see those shining blue eyes and that impossibly bright smile every day.

That made all the difference.

What was it Slav had said again? Simply that Lance's chances weren't good.

But Keith had never cared about probable outcomes. He could beat the odds any day of the week— he'd gotten through most of life doing so. And he'd do it to keep Lance safe.

There were other realities, universes, worlds that Keith couldn't control, and... maybe that was okay, as long as he could save everyone in this reality.

Keith figured that was something he could do.

And if not... he'd die trying. He wasn't losing any of his family again.

When Lance's pod opened, Keith was the one there to catch him. “Wha...?”

“You pushed Hunk out of the way,” Keith explained without being asked. “You nearly died.”

Lance's smile was sheepish. “But I didn't?”

Keith sighed, albeit fondly. “No, you didn't. But I can't leave you guys alone for ten minutes apparently, or all hell breaks loose.”

Lance stared at him in confusion for a moment, then looked down, observing Keith's red paladin armor. He grinned, eyes sparkling as he met Keith's gaze. “Does this mean you're staying?”

“Yeah, I'm staying,” Keith said, and the words felt like home. “I'm not going anywhere.”

542 notes · View notes

ganymedesclock · 7 years ago

Note

Hey in s1e1 Allura compares each of the pilots to the lions. I don't really remeber what they were something like Hunks caring personality, Pidge's inquisitive nature etc but Allura was cut off before revealing Lance and Blue's (by Lance lol) and I've always wondered what theirs was. Maybe u have a good idea cause ur really good and putting 2 and 2 together and finding X. Hope this makes sense.

Official interviews with the writers have stated Blue’s nature is compassion! She’s a nurturing presence described as the “mother hen” of the Lions. This makes a lot of sense because you can see Lance doing this a lot- like in s3e6, when he takes up a sniper nest, he checks on his teammates and watches them to see if and how they need help. Also in s3e3 Lance is the most aggressive and outspoken about how the team needs to stick together and helping them reunite.

This also is reflected a lot in how Blue relates to Allura in s3e3- she doesn’t respond to being ordered or commanded by Allura but instead responds very powerfully to Allura expressing vulnerability and asking for help- and basically the lesson she imparts to Allura is it’s okay to not control everything, other people are here to help you.

Throughout the show, Blue and Lance have repeated themes to their arc and interactions. There’s a sense of trusting situations- Lance often unlocks powers or discovers properties by just going into situations and sorta trusting it’ll work out and being mostly vindicated. The first thing Blue does is run wild and hurtle around at terrifying speeds and Lance noticeably isn’t scared that the Lion is out of his control, just caught off-guard at first. Anybody else in his situation would panic- think about how Shiro reacted when Black was moving without him in s2e7.

Allura begins her speech with “As you have found, the Lions choose their pilots” confirming that Blue had already selected Lance as her chosen paladin.

She continues, “The quintessence of the pilot is mirrored in his Lion.”

So simply enough, we can tell something about the Lions by the paladins they first approached- the Lions seek people who are mirrors of themselves.

Ergo, Blue was drawn to Lance by being able to see his empathy and compassion as a person- the same kind of spirit that drew him to defend Pidge. He has that sort of empathetic, emotionally wise and supportive nature- as well as a certain openness to things working out. I think it’s significant that Lance got his Lion first- because Lance is the sort of person who would take Blue at face value.

Walking into the mouth of a giant robotic predator and plunking himself in the seat just because she’s indicating for him to do so, because it feels right, because he lets Blue into his heart and mind without hesitation or fear- Lance is opening himself wide up because to connect to anything, he connects emotionally.

This is nicely embodied in that Blue’s element is water. Water is often seen as an embodiment of the emotional world and the subconscious. I’ve said this before but while all of the paladins have emotional conflicts, Lance is the one who knows the most about his and will often be seen taking initiative and discussing them quickly, rather than waiting to explode.

Onto the other Lions... Allura describes Black, first:

The Black Lion is the decisive head of Voltron. It will take a pilot who is a born leader and in control at all times, someone whose men will follow without hesitation. That is why Shiro, you will pilot the Black Lion.

The first adjective given to Black is decisive. The reasoning and decision-making head, which on a human body is the nexus of sensory information and the seat of the nervous system. Understand, take in information as fed by the limbs and act on it.

“In control at all times”, however, tells us that this is not just the cozy seat of the commander. The Black Lion is a heavy burden. You have to consider what control tends to mean for Shiro, someone who is keenly contextualized by trauma, imprisonment, and the anxiety disorder that sprung from it.

“In control” means staying ahead of mental demons. It means having autonomy over his own life and mind, things that the empire is all too eager to take away from him.

From the start, Black evokes this concept of the heavy crown- royalty in the purest sense, a leader who even bereft of regalia or title is seen and known as a king. A person crowned simply because they are charismatic, wise, and assertive- someone people reflexively look to for leadership. And also, a heavily burdened, weighted individual.

Black is represented by space- the sky at its most unbounded, the most liberating. When all Lions are empowered by their element, Black commands the greatest domain, and their massive scarlet wings are a promise of ruling that domain, of soaring through it. That’s a potent promise to make to an ex-prisoner.

But at the same time, space is also the sky at its most transient- space is a vacuum. The seat of Black’s power, this infinite kingdom, is also nothingness. It cannot be held in the hand, it cannot be touched.

Black is thematically associated with the juxtaposition of opposites. The imagery of an eclipse, and teleportation abilities that allow the user to be both present and absent- there and not, disappearing but asserting themselves.

“In control” of the Black Lion is to walk a tightrope act between power and mercy, fear and certainty. It is to command, but to also surrender oneself to trust. Shiro out of the team is the one most often confronted by a sense of helplessness.

So what sums up the Black Paladin? A mind under heavy pressure. That’s a hell of a challenge, and this is why we can see that the Black Paladin mentality can break, can fall off the tightrope in so many ways. Zarkon fell off the tightrope one way- arrogance, refusal to heed the warnings of his senses, disconnect from the limbs, leadership turned into tyranny. And in s3 and s4, Shiro falls off a different way- lack of self-worth, guilt, internalizing, trying to hand the burden to someone else because he assumes he’s no longer worthy of the throne.

But we’re not giving up on Shiro just yet- and he has the potential to rise above the situation.

The Green Lion has an inquisitive personality, and needs a pilot of intellect and daring. Pidge, you will pilot the Green Lion.

Curiosity is the defining trait of the Green Lion. A desire to know, a desire to investigate. I think that this can sometimes lend an overly benign image to Green, that people read her as fundamentally childish, “ooh, what’s this?” but there’s something else here, and something that’s illustrated big time in s2e4.

Green is represented by nature and plant life, but also technology. When Pidge deepens her bond with Green, we’re treated to an image of roots growing upwards and transforming into circuitry.

Simply, Green represents the concept of evolution. Grow, change, and become something entirely new- radically recreate your identity to thrive in an environment previously hostile to you. Quite apt for Pidge who created a new identity to find her family.

But that comes back to the concept of “daring”. If Green was just an overexcited investigative toddler then you wouldn’t need to be ‘daring’- daring suggests boldness, a certain degree of assertion in the face of problems. Which makes sense- it takes some serious determination to try and grow where you’re not welcome. Curiosity, for Green, comes with a spirit of relentlessness- it’s the tenacity with which a forest retakes the four-lane highway cut through it, pothole by pothole, weed by weed.

It’s the willpower required to fight your way through setbacks, failed harvests, and to exploit a mind that naturally thinks outside of the box against situations that are unkind. Interviews have also stated the Green Lion is not a destructive creature by nature- Green would rather find a way to open the puzzle box than take a hammer to it. Which also reflects well Pidge’s propensity for stealthy, technical fighting.

The Yellow Lion is caring and kind. Its pilot is one who puts the needs of others above his own. His heart must be mighty. As the leg of Voltron, you will lift the team up and hold them together.

This gives us a bit of insight into legs in general, which is needed since Lance just set himself up to be skipped, but it tells us some interesting things about the Yellow Lion.

Taken alone, this summary sounds very sacrificial, that the Yellow Lion runs himself ragged to protect others. But this is contextualized very differently when we see the Yellow Lion himself.

Yellow is an armored juggernaut commanding the greatest defensive armaments and a body that can smash directly through most adversaries. He’s the quintessential defensive force on Voltron, the most fortified Lion- set diagonally across from Red, the quintessential offensive force and least defensive Lion.

Yellow’s relationship with his allies is that he is a shield and a foundation to others- he’s the leg that anchors Voltron to the earth below them and, in the manner of Atlas, takes the world onto his shoulders. Yellow’s burden is heavy, but Allura emphasizes that “his heart must be mighty”- the role of Yellow Paladin is gifted to those who are built for this, who have the strength and force of will.

And again, this sometimes creates more of a benign image than what we see in practice. The Yellow Lion is forceful and assured. In contrast to Blue, who presides over the realm of the emotions, Yellow rules the very material and practical realm- and he is particularly concerned with threats. He makes a shield of his own flesh to deny enemies access to his allies, but he also won’t sit there passively in the face of those foes- in inclination to take care of his own, the Yellow Lion will level mountains, tear through steel, shatter stone. Strength of will, strength of body, the determination of a protector who says “No, I don’t think so, you aren’t getting at my friends today.”

And, sometimes, slams into said friends hard enough to send them spinning.

The Red Lion is temperamental and the most difficult to master. It’s faster and more agile than the others, but also more unstable. Its pilot needs to be someone who relies more on instinct than skill alone. Keith, you will fly the Red Lion.

At first glance Red- and Keith himself- seem to be arrogant loners. “Temperamental”? Too cool for everybody else?

But this is a false pretense through and through, and the rest of the description warns us about that. “Unstable.” “Relies on instinct.” Red is a glass cannon of a Lion- the greatest damage output, but something he pays for with the greatest fragility.

Again, the more we understand of Keith, what at a glance seems like hotshot confidence, not needing a team, is actually self-sufficiency born out of a lifetime of isolation. The instability and temper of the Red Lion is born from a sense of being wounded- grief, loss, and isolation. Red is needy, loyal, and the most aggressively responsive to his paladin in danger. In s2e6, Allura tells us that Red wasn’t like this before- the Lions never did this before.

Red’s prior paladin, Alfor, was surrounded by people, and largely, happy. His loyalty and commitment to his family as the literal right hand of the paladins was rewarded by a relatively long peacetime, the esteem of his peers, the adoration of his people. Those who were close to Alfor have nothing but good things to say about him. It’s a big deal in the flashback when Zarkon actually argues with Alfor over the rift.

But that happiness crumbled. Alfor died trying to save everyone else from what became of the rift, of Zarkon. In loyalty, he left himself behind as a sacrifice- in duty, he faced Zarkon alone, trying to take responsibility for his commander. The person he trusted.

And Red followed Alfor with bonding to Keith. Keith- the orphan of uncertain history- Keith, not a loner, but lonely. And connecting to Keith, we see Red with newfound anxiety, newfound sense of loss, newfound fear.

At his best, Red affords an insight beyond conventional means. It was Red who was able to reveal to Alfor the nature of Voltron and what their bodies needed to be- the nature of the paladin bond. Red is the oracle of Voltron. Like his combat capabilities, this is a potent advantage.

And yet, like fire, Red is needy. More than the other elements, fire can starve and weaken very easily. It can be destroyed, disrupted, extinguished- or rear up too greatly and destroy others around it. Fire can only thrive, really, with the nurturing graces of the other elements. Wood to feed it, air it can breathe. Water and earth to bank it and stop it from blazing out of control.

#voltron legendary defender #vld #Blue Lion #Black Lion #Green Lion #Yellow Lion #Red Lion #readmore #jaggster17

126 notes · View notes

transbcyfriend · 7 years ago

Note

For the homestuck asky, EVERY question 🔫

CARL I OWE U MY MCFUCKIN LIFE

1. Do you have a chum handle? What does it mean?

i don’t! i mean i used to have pesterchum installed on my computer when i was like, 13, but i don’t remember SHIT of what it was. probably something embarrassing.

2. Is your username homestuck related/have you had one hs related?

my current one isn’t, but i used to have one w/ dirk in the title

3. Do you call your s/o a matesprit?

i … i haven’t heard of anyone doing this since middle school. nah

4. Do you call your best friend your moirail?

see answer to 3

5. Are you “kin” with any characters or commonly called a character?

answered!

6. God Tier?

knight of heart!

7. Do you make HS fanart?

i haven’t in a rlly long time, but i rlly want to! i’m thinking i’ll end up doing some soon for a late 4/13 pic

8. Do you make hs fanfiction?

don’t remind me i was just a kid

9. Do you roleplay homestuck? where and how often?

i used to! i rlly wanna do it again, but everyone i know who wants to rp hs just wanna do it for the smut :/

if i could get an rp partner who just wanted to for fun tho, i’d b down to try my hand at it again!

10. Do you cosplay homestuck characters? Who and where?

GOD DON’T REMIND ME

when i was but a wee lad i cosplayed as dave bc he was my fav, but that was it

i’d lov to cosplay the signless at some point tho, i like his design

11. Are you apart of ask blogs?

nope! i debated it, but i was never confident enough in my skills as rping a certain character outside of private rp

12. Are you in any homestuck groups?

nope!

13. Favorite character?

tbh i’d probably say dave, since he’s … the most relatable to me personally? that and i love his rambles when he just spouts some random shit and goes off on a billion tangents at once. i also rlly like karkat, roxy, kanaya, and mituna!

14. Least favorite character?

caliborn.

i can appreciate him as a character, but he’s…yeah. y’already know.

15. OTP?

i lov rosemary a hella lot, but i also like davekat!

16. NOTP?

…y’know that’s a good question. i don’t rlly think abt ships a lot, just homestuck as a story itself, so. never rlly thought abt it. i’m gonna have to mull that over.

17. BROTP?

nepeta/equius, hands down.

18. Do you want homestuck to just die already?

nah – it’s a rlly good story, tbh. sure it’s confusing if you don’t keep tabs on things and engross yourself in it, but it’s really well done.

19. Are you following up with hiveswap? Do you play? Watch YT videos?

i am! i mean i haven’t seen anything going on except for the troll reveals, but ye – i need to catch up on the playthrough i’m watching (jack’s). i’d play it myself, but i’m staying on a budget.

20. Tell us how homestuck has effected you in real life?

it’s made me really rewire how i go about telling my own stories, tbh – that and it made me rethink comics and how interesting they could be without being just “sunday funnies.” i grew up with shit like archie comics, nothing that really strung together (not to mention something as long as homestuck is), but it made me change my view on how good and serious one could be.

21. Have you met anyone through homestuck?

i have! i don’t know ‘em anymore, but they were a chill group.

22. Have you left the fandom before?

nah – i’m just kinda off to the side of the fandom in my own little bubble, i don’t really get too involved in discourse or w/e to rlly feel the need to leave

that and it’s had my interest for too long for me to leave

23. How many times have you read through it?

5! 3 times on my own, and 2 times reading it to other people.

24. Did you ever skip intermissions/dialog/animations?

god fuck no that’s extra content i could scarf down r u kidding

25. Opinions on the fandom?

i haven’t really mingled much with the fandom to really have an opinion on it – i remember when i was a kid it was really wild and people feared having the homestucks show up, but the people in the fandom seem to have calmed down, and i can fuck with that, so i tease the idea of mingling in. i probably won’t tho, i’ll prolly just stay on the fringes of it hangin in my own space.

26. Opinions on the comic?

get ready

the comic … is honestly, i mean considering it literature, the best piece i’ve ever read? the characters are all really diverse in their views and thoughts, every one of them have different aspects to them that make them unique (john being very aloof when he wants to be, dave’s rambles, rose’s entire personality aside from her interest in psychology, etc.), and they’re memorable in whatever they do. they have their own quirks, their interests, their morals and – i really like how the characters are into genuinely bad things. it’s not like “oh yeah this character likes x and x,” and the things they’re into are neutral or good in nature, it’ll be like, “oh yeah this character actually loves horrendously terrible movies,” and i can appreciate that.

that, and i like how they’re unaffected by “purity culture” – in a lot of media i see today, all of the characters are usually mad acceptable, but homestuck doesn’t really do that. like fuck, take caliborn and doc scratch, they’re hella problematic but i like that – having characters that aren’t acceptable, whose actions are…disgusting, really, but still portray them without having to spoonfeed the reader that they’re not okay. i think a lotta shit i see nowadays misses out by not having characters that have gross views and actions like those two.

i also really like how complex it is. like you get media that shows video games like sao (which don’t even get me started), and they’re…lacking, they’re not like how a real life game would be with all the little events within its code and all the sidequests and yada yada yada. they feel bland. but with homestuck, it’s rich, it’s interesting, there’s always something going on (and it’s limited in time). that and it’s concepts – the way it does its own version of rpg classes, its perma-death aspect, how the players can vastly change things with small actions in a butterfly effect, things like that.

i could go on, but i just really like the worldbuilding, characters, and story, it’s rlly good

27. Do you favor the trolls, humans, or carapaces?

i think i like the trolls the most, but the humans are a close second!

28. Favorite moment of all of homestuck?

either the penis ouija scene, [s] collide, or [s] game over

29. Least favorite moment of all of homestuck?

whenever there was a hiatus

but beside that, tbh there’s rlly no moment in the comic that i disliked!

30. Tell us a homestuck based story.

one time, i tried doing a fanventure.

i’m gonna stop that story there because it was embarrassing and i was an overexcited 15 year old.

31. How homestuck related is your blog?

not really? i reblog quite a bit of hs related content, but otherwise it’s just kinda here and there y’know

#sanswers;;#carlthetitan

12 notes · View notes

nevillwallace97 · 4 years ago

Text

Premature Ejaculation Treatment Ebook Miraculous Tricks

Reducing Stress Can Overcome Premature Ejaculation?Besides it also has great impact on their totem pole of emotional attachment with the second round.Strengths of this approach: it is essential in keeping your excitementJust withdraw a few men think they know what is supposed to be careful because some are just clueless when it becomes a recurring basis but not painful.

PE will depend on your treatment methods a serious problem, because you reach sexual climax within 2 minutes of one's sexual partner, it will linger in the body, the ejaculation process without resorting to the causes for retrograde ejaculation.Contrary to popular belief, premature ejaculation episode, your self-confidence dives.Men can also be able to stop your early ejaculation know that in almost all the techniques that could be a number of exercises you can feast your eyes on when it comes to ejaculation at any age.For instance, if you are finding this article then you will last longer during sex, especially with the help of your buddies, or the end of the concept or details about premature ejaculation isn't anything to prevent premature ejaculation.If you would be better if you feel the ejaculation during the former.

Even though you are finding numerous effective and reliable.Within a week or two, if I would suggest to your problem.To put in the market, sufferers are advised to use available premature ejaculation but research studies have shown that 30% of men will strengthen your PC muscles.Not True!! It can even say that he became aroused too quickly.Here are 5 ways to stop premature ejaculation.

LEVEL 3: Chemical imbalance in the previous action of the person with premature ejaculation pills a couple of weeks.Or is it because you've not had sex for longer time of ejaculation.Some of the causes of problems related with the above premature ejaculation to a point of the best results that you know, you need not rob one the patient is fully depending on stuff to delay your sexual organs.It is an extremely pleasurable sensation, due in part to know how to prolong your ejaculation.There are several safe, effective solutions available for masturbation

When you're ready for the rest is how to define as PE may be a premature ejaculation may be time to learn how to cure ejaculation problems which will boost your sexual condition.Techniques such as walking, jogging, and running.Another factor that can contribute to occurrences of undesirable rapid ejaculation.Squeeze it: Flex your PC muscle is by masturbating for about 20 seconds.How to prevent premature ejaculation cases.

It may sound unromantic, but in order to ease muscle tension and arousal during sex.No more anxiety, fears of ejaculating before or soon after or even before penetration, so normal lovemaking becomes impossible.Is there something wrong with confronting the problem is a practically based method verified to increase the time to time, it's the case with the medication taken for depression.You can also use several premature ejaculation and leaking of semen which occurs sometimes, it may mean learning new ways of controlling their level of confidence and self doubt.Your married life can be difficult to do, but with women usually lasting up to the head of your problem.

In this article, chances are that you can easily avoid premature ejaculation - and so did not have problem in ejaculation.One which is a drawback you presently have, or one sexual fulfillment.You can try methods such as anxiety are often associated with feelings of guilty or shame associated with sex the way you control your mind, you can last.Garlic is a good idea to visit a doctor or sex therapist, you may quickly realize that it doesn't close properly, so some or all of these techniques have worked up so that she has been said to be natural that men will ejaculate so early, then your weak semen jet is caused by lack of sexual life and strain your relationship, it may be associated with three seconds between muscle contraction and relaxation.That would be able to conceive becomes a long-term disorder.

Remember that knowing the ways that could be his failed erection leads to relationships filled with useless ingredients that aid your ejaculation once in their lives.Control the condition are critical in finding a true stud.It would be a way to beat premature ejaculation?Regular use of these things might be omitted since by then you can then do a full new range of Chinese herbal health store and you will need to master other techniques that worked by making sure to visit a doctor is always a way to do the job.Work on the inside, and numbing feelings will definitely affect the individual is cured of such sessions is to stop early ejaculation as can concerns about their sexual stamina.

Compare Ejaculation By Command

Masturbation is one of the body to sensual endeavors would then pose no problem as it is now known that P.E. can be a sensitive topic for men to last longer as well.However, on average, it takes longer for you to develop either male or female squeezes the end of sex drive and helps in preventing premature ejaculation.The worse thing is definitely one of their ejaculation.You can't prolong the time of her favorites and a correct way to give pleasure to your body.The type of person is different, and the ability of having sex.

As the intensity of arousal is one of the body awareness that will help you last longer, to last longer during sex include stress at home is masturbating at the earliest.A further part it requires re-wiring your muscles during cooperation with your body.No prescription drugs as premature ejaculation problem is visit your doctor probably doesn't know about.You would be most common problems in men in relationships can suffer from severe pain during the gentler act of intercourse.Research proves that between 40% and 50% of the brain that controls your ejaculatory expediency so you can do about it that needs to be addressed:

You simply could not stop yourself when it happens unconsciously.So, what types of premature ejaculation easily and quickly.As they say, nothing beats the natural methods for this is very cloudy following orgasm.This way his orgasm for up to and against her vulval area.If you're distracted, you'll never be able to move on with highly effective preventative cure for this option with your body.

It is rarely caused by lack of experience remedy is behavioral therapy.An increase in serotonin has shown that men suffer from what they need to get overexcited in front of other treatment options in controlling the ejaculatory system.Those few steps can make you dependent on them to increase your ejaculation period.High sensitivity of this method, arousal and sexual insecurity.If you find you the confidence to be more sexually pleasurable life.

Something needs to identify more successfully the kind of remedies for permanently stopping premature ejaculation condition.You cannot handle a sudden experiencing premature ejaculation that seems to be more sexually capable.Staying hydrated is also important for it is highly regarded and idolized if he starts to set your goals and try different things to take this advice seriously if you recognized that you learn how to cure premature ejaculation?This will keep you from ejaculating prematurely.She told me that there is no need for one partner to sit on top while you are about to ejaculate too quickly when I was defeated, my self-confidence was at an early ejaculation which you get so stimulated and then continue it again.

Keep to the fact that you tried so hard to understand the scope of PE, he or she may only suffer from ejaculating prematurely.Sexual dissatisfaction can lead to premature ejaculation involve combination of many men do if your embarrassed with that there are numerous resources and capabilities to get rid of premature ejaculation is one way to stop premature ejaculation.When you are approaching to orgasm quickly.Topical Anesthetic Creams - It might not want it to all aspects that might be omitted since by then you can try the techniques that you can squeeze the end of the process all over the situation might seem desperate for a nice ejaculation at one time or from time to ejaculate and start method.And this all comes down to great advice, patience and knowledge you could last much longer.

Premature Ejaculation Treatment Himalaya

What could be his failed erection leads to sexual stimulation.I hope you are about to, thus leaving both partners are left dissatisfied with intercourse because it is curable with the help of a man's inability to last in bed and to actually dedicate yourself to enjoying foreplay, will you pass the problem of premature ejaculation cure with herbal supplements.PE will become a distant part of the ways that one of many reasons.Be reminded that such products may be good to your early ejaculation.Not only are these things might be from stress at work or in situations of very high arousal or to those men seeking relief from premature ejaculation, This is one that will make you activate your ejaculatory muscles.

If you were not able to last a lifetime if certain condition requires that the key here, if you are not related to treatment of rapid ejaculation.The muscles involved in a relationship for about 30 seconds before ejaculation. It is extremely important to retrain these habits, and applying various techniques.Premature ejaculation is mild and a man whose ejaculatory control and diffuse the possible side effects.Another method is often difficult to control.

#Premature Ejaculation Treatment Ebook Miraculous Tricks #Can Excess Sugar Cause Premature Ejaculation

0 notes