#We went through I think 9 rough bases to choose from at first and kept those two

[gen-toon]

Two collabs I did with Janie Her twitter ~ Also her tumblr post link here. I always find collaborations much more fun if it's one character per artist interacting on the canvas.

Top set is my base drawing> Her Sonic and my Amy each/lined each> our own version of colour (top is mine bottom hers). Second set is her base drawing> Her Amy and my Sonic (she lined my sonic here)> our own version of colour (top is mine bottom hers).

[litniche]

Love Will Find a Way

Ch. 9

on ao3

  CW: characters use a shotgun in sports shooting

First three lines by   @hauntingincorrect  on Tumblr

 “I have an idea.”  

  “A good one?  

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”  

 That’s how the day had started - Owen telling her he had an idea and before she knew it, Dani and Jamie were climbing into a rented van along with the rest of the gang. Hannah sat next to Owen, avoiding the stick shift every time Owen had to change gears. Owen made it all the more difficult, never failing to ‘accidentally’ let his hand land on Hannah’s knee rather than the knob of the gearshift. Jamie found it almost surreal to know that Hannah was ticklish, but as the normally graceful woman jerked and flailed every time, she found herself grinning and shaking her head at the pair.

 Rebecca sat next to Hannah in the front, rolling her eyes at Owen and Hannah conspiratorially with anyone who met her gaze. She was a good sport, though, even when Hannah’s attempts to escape Owen’s tickling meant the woman was half on her lap at times. Jamie was glad she could join them. She needed the break from Henry's London office, having been kept so busy since Henry had decided to take a bit of a step back.

 In the middle row sat Flora, Miles, and Henry. The little girl was bouncing far more than the country roads warranted. Miles and she pressed their faces to the window as the French countryside rolled by. One would think, growing up in rural England, that the sight of an odd cow here and there would not raise a fuss, but apparently the novelty of French cows was enough to afford rapt attention. Jamie, for her part, wondered briefly if French cows went ‘moo’.

 In the very back sat she and Dani. The au pair was almost as bad as the children. Her energy was electric as her eyes roamed the hills and plains they passed. When they came upon a road travelling alongside a small lake, Jamie could swear Dani's eyes became heart shaped. She brought their hands, laced together, to her lips to kiss Dani’s knuckles gently as she gave a faint and fond chuckle.

 “We’re here!” Owen called at last. He parked near a small cottage overlooking the lake and at the foot of a vineyard.

 Dani looked at Jamie with a question mark written all over her face.

 “Don’t look at me, Poppins.”

 As soon as Henry opened the sliding door of the van, the children bolted for the vineyard, running through its rows with peels of laughter and ‘catch me if you cans’. Henry muttered something about getting too old for this before jogging after them. The rest of the crew followed after them.

 “After you,” Jamie said to the au pair with an ornery smile.

 “You’re kind of in my way,” Dani grinned at her, and she was right. She’d have a rough time exiting the van without Jamie’s cooperation.

 “Guess you’ll have to get creative, then.”

 Dani, as was her habit, gave Jamie a look that never ceased to make the gardener marvel at how they ever stepped foot out of a bedroom. “Creative?” she asked, letting her fingers draw a light trail up the inside of Jamie’s thigh.

 Jamie slammed her thighs shut to block her path. “Christ, Dani,” she whispered, thankful there was no one else in the van any longer.

 “Hmm,” Dani hummed. “Not creative enough?”

 The au pair’s next strategy seemed to be taking the lobe of Jamie’s ear between her teeth. Her fingers travelled further north and slid between Jamie’s shut thighs. “Am I getting closer?”

 The gardener let out an exhale in the form of a laugh. “Might be.”

 “Oi!” they heard along with a sudden knock on the tinted windows. “You lot better be keeping it PG in there!” Rebecca’s voice teased.

 Dani pulled away, clearing her throat. “Excuse me,” she said before she proceeded to crawl over Jamie toward the van’s door, presenting her rear directly in front of Jamie's face.

 “Right,” Jamie said, clearing her throat, “We’re coming!”

 ***

 “Un! Deux! Trois!”

     BANG!  

     ...CRASH!  

 “Un! Deux! Trois!”

     BANG!  

     ...CRASH!  

 “Whooo! Nice one!” Jamie whooped, swinging her arm in the air to cheer Dani on.

 Dani grinned at having hit every single one of her clay pigeons as she readied the shotgun for another.

 “She’s American. She has an unfair advantage,” Owen smirked behind her as Jamie stuck out her tongue at him before conceding a laugh.

 “Shall we make it interesting?” Rebecca said, wiggling her brows. “Well done, Dani!” she called when Dani hit another.

 “What’d you have in mind?”

 “Très bien, Madamoiselle,” their guide said to Dani as he took the gun.

 “Merci,” she replied. She left Owen and Rebecca to arrange their wager as she made her way for Jamie.

 Jamie encircled her arms around the au pair’s waist. “And here I thought you were frightening with just a fire poker, Poppins.”

 Dani leaned into her fiancée, resting her arms over Jamie’s shoulders. “They didn’t call me Annie Oakley when I was growing up for nothing,” she commented as she leaned forward for a kiss.

 “Oi, James!” Owen called.

 “Yeah, mate?” Jamie quirked a brow in his direction as she turned both her and Dani, apparently refusing to part from their embrace.

 “I just realized…” he said, his grin spreading slowly.

 “Oh no. I know that look.” Dani said softly, brows coming together in a mock-serious expression.

 Jamie’s eyes narrowed at the chef. “What is it, then? Spit it out.”

 “You’re having a shotgun wedding after all.”

 Dani’s jaw dropped at the audacity.

 Jamie hung her head. "Asked for it, didn't I?"

 ****

 An afternoon stroll along the lake’s beach, a rather decadent meal (with perfectly splendid tea for the kids and far too much wine for the adults) later, the brides and their friends were enjoying further libations in the living area of the small cottage.

 Hannah called out “Who makes the better breakfast?”

 Dani lifted her own shoe and heard chuckles from their friends gathered around them. The rules of the game they were playing was simple: when Hannah asked a question, Dani could choose between raising her own shoe to indicate herself or Jamie’s which represented her fiancée. Being back to back, the brides couldn't see each other's answers which was half the fun.

 “My cooking is shite; I’ll admit it,” Jamie said grudgingly, apparently holding Dani's shoe in the air, too.

 Dani smirked, sharing a knowing glance with Owen.

 “Who takes up more than their share of the bed?”

 Dani raised her own shoe again, feeling herself blush a little. She tended to sprawl all over the bed, her limbs spread out across Jamie and pillows alike. “Guilty,” she said, knowing which shoe Jamie was holding up without looking.

 “Damn right, you are, Poppins,” Jamie said behind her, making Rebecca giggle.

 “Who has better hair?” Hannah asked.

 “Awwwwww,” their friends collectively cooed at them. Dani had held up Jamie’s shoe and based on everyone's reaction, Jamie had held Dani’s up. She smiled softly, feeling her cheeks go pink.

 “Who talks the most?” Hannah asked next.

 “Really?” Rebecca bent over in laughter. “Jamie, you had me believing you’re the quiet sort!”

 “I talk!” Jamie said defensively.

 “She’s right. Get her on a midnight stroll and she’ll deliver a full monologue,” Dani called out.

 “Who said ‘I love you’ first?” Hannah asked, interrupting their light laughter.

 Dani felt butterflies in her stomach at the memory as she lifted Jamie’s shoe into the air.

     Jamie placed a single moonflower in a vase on her desk in the teaching room at Bly. Flora and Miles had long gone to bed, and Jamie had stayed late while Dani worked on the following week’s lesson plans.  

     “I’m actually pretty in love with you, it turns out,” Jamie said, and it had taken every modicum of self control Dani possessed to take Jamie’s hand and lead her to her bedroom rather than having her way with the gardener right there in the classroom.  

 Owen pretended to sniffle. “Jamie, I had no idea we were so alike. Romantics, you and I,” he said.

 Hannah chuckled. “I could have told you that, but I wonder about this next one: who initiated the first kiss?”

 Dani’s cheeks warmed at the memory of the greenhouse on Bonfire Night last November. She held up her own shoe as it played in her mind.

     Jamie was saying something about understanding. It was that understanding that made Dani do it. All her life she’d been looking for this - looking for someone who quite simply understood her. She surged forward, tired of not acting on something she’d been feeling since the moment she’d seen Jamie. To her great relief, Jamie’s understanding was in her kiss as well. She deepened it, bringing them closer together, making it harder for them both to breathe, but giving Dani much needed reassurance that she wasn’t the only one crazy about the person sitting beside her. Briefly, the gardener pulled away and asked if she was sure. And Dani was. She was more sure of this than anything she ever had been. She nodded and Jamie’s whispered ‘thank fuck’ was enough to ruin her for anyone else ever again.  

 ***

 Jamie stumbled along, held up by an arm slung over Owen’s shoulder. Dani was miraculously managing her own way despite the vast number of glasses of wine she’d imbibed. Owen gracelessly dumped Jamie onto their bed in the small cottage.

 The gardener gave a small groan in protest and swatted Owen’s hand away when he started unlacing her shoes. “Mmm not th’bad, mate.”

 “Sure, sure,” Owen chuckled as he wavered backward, not altogether sober himself.

 Dani sat down at the foot of the bed. “It’s, um, it’s fine. I’ve got her.”

 Hannah gave Dani a look that communicated quite effectively that Dani’s words gave little reassurance. “Get yourself sorted and I’ll help Jamie. Owen, I’ll be downstairs in a tick.”

 Owen saluted upon his exit, making Jamie giggle.

 The next few moments were a blur of shoes being tossed to the floor and clothes exchanged for pajamas. A more sober version of Dani might have been shy that Hannah was in the room, bearing witness to it all, but something in her told her there was no reason to be.

 Hannah made them both drink a glass of water each before kissing both of them on their cheeks. “Goodnight, my dears. Did you have a good time?”

 “Best hen do a girl could ask for,” Jamie said with a sleepy smile. “Thanks, Mum.”

 Hannah tsked as Dani giggled. “No really,” Dani said, taking the woman’s hand in her own. “Thank you.”

 “We all pitched in. You two mean the world to us, you know.”

 Dani felt a warm glow envelop her heart and her eyes threatened to spill tears. “You mean everything to us, too, Hannah. Love you.”

 “Love you, too,” Hannah smiled and rose. “Get some rest,” she said before closing the door.

 Jamie immediately rolled half on top of Dani. “'Member earlier? We could get creative tonight,” she giggled in Dani’s ear.

 Dani felt herself smile, though her eyes were closed as she hummed softly, barely awake. She tugged on Jamie’s arm currently slung across her middle in an attempt to somehow bring her impossibly closer. She nodded and her hands began to roam, muscle memory taking over, but their roaming slowed as she began to drift.

 “Shit, Poppins, you’re about to pass out.”

 “Hmm?” Dani asked, jolted back to awareness. She opened her eyes and raised her chin to peer at Jamie. “No, no. I’m here.”

 Jamie chortled. “It’s all right.”  She kissed Dani’s sternum before laying her head there. “‘M tired, too. ‘Night, Poppins.”

 “‘Night, Jamie.”

 A beat passed before Dani was jolted awake by Jamie's voice once again. "Poppins?"

 "Hmm? What is it?"

 "Marry me?"

 "Asked you that already."

 "Just making sure."

 "Go to bed."

 "Not the boss o'me."

 "Goodnight, Jay."

 "Goodnight, Poppins."

  Notes:        

Thanks again for reading! I just didn't figure these two for a what might be considered a 'typical' bachelorette party. P.S. Every time you leave kudos or comment, Dani lays a gentle hand on Jamie's shoulder as she sleeps. So... XD

[mad-men-inc]

A Brother’s Love

Summary: World renown villain, known only as “Dr. Septic” kidnaps one Chase Brody. The villain unmasks himself, revealing none other than Chase’s brother, leading the two to have a long overdue heart-to-heart.

Word count: 1526

TWs: mention of a failed suicide attempt.

The darkness flickered away at once as the blindfold was pulled from Chase’s face. He blinked as the light nearly blinded him, before he focused on the figure in front of him: Doctor Septic. Only, his helmet was poised between his hip and his arm. Angry confusion filled Chase’s face, before dumbfounded shock had his eyes widening as he realized: he recognized that face. 

After a moment of hesitation, Chase asked softly, “... Sean?”

The villain laughed once, loud and mocking. “So you do remember your brother! I'm so glad to hear that, Chasey! Truly. Because now we can skip the reintroductions and get straight to the fun stuff. Welcome to my lair!” Sean spoke fast, the cadence of his voice drifting with dramatic flairs and hard, angry edges every so often, before he spread his arms and gestured to the room around them with his final sentence.

The room was lined with shelves -- or were they bleachers? -- all packed with animal-based robots with glowing green eyes; eyes identical to the one floating around Sean’s shoulders. Chase’s head tilted to look at them all, and the robots shifted to look right back at him, every glowing light searing into his soul. 

His voice was still quiet, only now with a subdued awe, as he asked, “What... is all of this?”

“This, brother dear, is the proof that you were wrong! You said I couldn’t do it, laughed when I joined robotics, mocked every invention I designed. But you were wrong, Chasey, oh boy were you wrong. Not only could I build one robot, no! Look around you! I built hundreds!”

“Sean… I-”

“I don't want your half-baked apologies, Chase. Not now. Now, I want you to beg for your life. Make it good, or you’ll be joining dad in hell. See, you were wrong about me, and you were wrong about him, and you were wrong about Stacy. Does that get old?”

Fear and confusion flickered across Chase’s face as he processed the assortment of topics his brother was jumping to, his mind centering on the last one. “Stacy? What- what about her?” 

“You think I stopped paying attention to the great Chase Brody when I left home? No, no no, I watched her dump you on live TV, taking the kids and leaving you with nothing but a nerf gun and a bottle of whiskey. Its funny- thats not how i expected you to follow dad’s footsteps, but I bet he was glad to see one of his sons weren’t fuck-ups in his eyes!”

A moment of silence passed between them, Chase choosing his words carefully as Sean bounced from foot to foot with excited rage. “Look at my temple, Sean. The right one.”

“It was a nerf gun, Chase. You wouldn't have-” Sean’s eyes flickered to his brother’s temple as Chase tilted his head, doing a double take as he noticed the angry star-shaped patch of light pink skin on Chase’s temple. “-a… scar. What..?” All at once, the rage was replaced with confusion, Sean falling still and quiet finally. The robots around them shifted uneasily. 

“The show went on hiatus, for about 4 months. It was taking its toll on me, but, more importantly, I was trying to build a relationship with Stacy. High school sweethearts, remember? I stopped being so angry when she was around, because I didn't want to scare her. Dad called me a pussy, so I stopped coming home as often. Stacy stuck with me through those years. Helped me seek out help of my own, Sean. I went to therapy, after you left. Got a job, moved out by 19. Stacy came with me. Dad stopped reaching out, and I was scared he had killed himself, or worse, so I reached out instead. Got him to go to therapy too.” Chase paused, realizing he had gotten side tracked with the past. 

“It had been a rough season for the show, the ‘great Chase Brody’ had bills to pay and not enough money for it, even while Stacy had a job of her own. So I.. Borrowed a friend’s gun. If Stacy hadn't found me, hadn’t brought me to- Dr. Hayward? I wouldn't be here. I wanted out of the show. Wanted to get a real job, pay Hayward back somehow, turn my damn life around. That was 5 years ago, Sean. That- that video you saw? That was my out. I had to cut my contract, but they wouldn't let me do it without ending the show, so that was my ending. And after we wrapped that day? Stacy drove us home and we made dinner, and I proposed to her. 9 months later, we had our first kid.” Sean had fallen impossibly more still. Chase’s breath was shuddering, he was tearing up, but he kept talking. 

“I'm a father of 4 now. You’re an uncle. And dad is in rehab, but he gets to come home every summer and winter, and he’s still a grumpy bastard on the best of days, but he smiles when he sees the kids. He gives them piggy-back rides and sends them birthday cards, and- and you're right, he doesn't see me as a fuck-up, Sean. But it's because I turned both of our lives around -- not because I ended up like him. I'm never ending up like he was when we were kids, because I have kids of my own and I would gladly give my life for theirs,” Chase chokes on a sob, a smile dancing on his lips despite the words. 

“And you know something? You could be just like dad is now. You can get yourself some fucking help- use these amazing robots for good purposes, instead of evil. You can come be their uncle, come be my brother again. I am sorry, Sean. I'm sorry I wasn't a good brother to you, and I'm sorry I didn't realize you needed help sooner. I should've done more, I should've gotten therapy for your sake, not Stacy's. But the choices we made before cant be changed; all we can change is what we do now. So what do you say, bro..? Come home with me. Please,” Chase’s tears finally spilled, the plea merely a whisper as his chest heaved with his sobs. 

Sean doesn't respond, his body tense and unmoving, his eyes fixated on Chase’s face, unblinking and unfocused. The glowing green eye hovering by his shoulder makes a chirping sound, the noise loud in the surrounding silence. It nudges Sean’s shoulder, and the man flinches, blinking harshly. His head darts to look at the eye, before his eyes drift around the room at the robots. He eyes almost every single one of them, spinning in a circle so he could examine all of his creations -- before his eyes finally returned to his brother. 

“How do I just… leave everything behind. How could you- how could you expect me to leave everything behind?” the rage filters back into Sean’s expression, but there’s something hesitant behind it- forced. He pauses, so Chase gives an answer.

“I don’t, Sean- I know you wont leave all of this behind, this was always your life, your calling, your dream. But- you’re using your brilliance for the wrong cause. You proved me wrong, you made it, you got to the top, but you’re sitting as public enemy number one right now, when you could be helping millions of people with so many different things!” It was.. A long shot. Chase knew that. His brother didn’t seem like one to do things for “the greater good,” but there was the smallest flicker of hope in him.

“Where… where would I go? With you? Fuck up your perfect little life.. It’s too la-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, bro. It’s never too late. It’s only too late if you give up. You won’t be fucking up anything if you come stay with me, but- but if you don’t want to stay with me, I can set you up in a hotel, or an apartment even if you want something more permanent. I can get you a therapist, hook you up with a job at some nice paying engineering job- anything you want, Sean. But this, where you’re at now? This is a road that only ends in pain and misery and a downward spiral I never want to see you follow through. Please, I- I want you in my life again, Sean. Please.”

Another short pause, where Sean eyes Chase. He takes a step closer, Chase holding his ground and remaining unflinching. Sean takes another few, leaning over Chase. They settle for a second, Chase looking with desperation into Sean’s eyes, before the cuff on his wrists pops open. 

Sean moves back, Chase taking that as his cue to stand up. His legs shake, but he stands in front of his brother, rubbing his wrists for a moment. The two wait another beat, the silence creeping into awkwardness, before Chase pulls Sean into a hug. Sean startles, blinking owlishly, before he settles into the embrace, his head fitting snugly against Chase’s shoulder. 

“Welcome back home, bro.”

[davidmann95]

Velvet's battle is a great choice, though I'll always have a special place in my heart for the fight against the Grimm Deathstalker and the Nevermore in Episode 8. That said, what do you think of the individual members of Team RWBY?

I decided to wait on this until I caught up on the series thus far, which I just finished doing the night before last in pretty much the only time in my life I’ve ever really properly binged anything other than comics, and…wow. I knew RWBY was a thing just as a matter of course from being on this site and Youtube, and from watching Death Battle, so I picked up some major beats by osmosis. But my main impression was that it was a charming pseudo-anime online thing of decent quality that unsurprisingly got heavier as it went along as such things tend to do, with extremely rad fights and music along the way; figured it’d be more than serviceable to watch while I was on the treadmill as a disposable distraction from the agony of propelling my wheezing, sweating, loathsome meat-scaffolding forward.

I did *not* expect it to eventually end up after growing pains a - while far from flawless - intensely engrossing story of all-consuming personal and generational pain and people who choose to love and do the right thing in defiance of that trauma and loss and hopelessness, where also occasionally a corgi gets fastball specialed at mechas. Though once it became clear that’s what it is, it pretty clearly sat at an intersection of a hell of a lot of my favorite things, especially when characters copped in-universe in both the main series and spinoff material that this is basically a superhero thing. My initial impressions re: the fights and music were on-point though.

I actually have quite a few thoughts on pretty much all the protagonists of note at this point (other than I suppose Oscar and Maria. Like them both though, and I do hope that nice boy’s brain somehow doesn’t dissolve into the blender of Ozpin’s subconscious), but I’ll just stick with the core four here as requested for now unless someone asks otherwise. Weiss is the simplest to get at the core of, I’d say: her arc is learning that fuck rich people, actually. She’s a seriously difficult character to get onboard for at first - especially if you’re watching those first episodes for the first time in 2019 - as the mean unconsciously racist rich girl who learns to be less mean and racist but still kinda mean. But after you’ve extensively seen the hideously toxic environment she grew up in, and fully understand her efforts to grow past the empty values it inculcated in her in favor of everything she was raised to think of herself as above, she becomes a hell of a figure to root for. Assuming RWBY is gonna go, say, a respectable 10 seasons given it was just renewed through 9, I could easily see the upcoming 7th be the climax of her arc with her return to Atlas and likely further reckoning with the consequences of her families’ actions beyond how they’ve hurt her personally.

Yang is also, in a certain abstract narrative sense, simple, in that she’s built around the very oldest trick in the book for characters whose main deal is ‘can punch better than absolutely anyone’: give them problems that cannot be solved by punching. Except in her case it’s less a material “well, this person is invulnerable to punching!” or “well, actually this other person can punch most best of all” issue blocking her path than “punching cannot solve depression, abandonment issues, questioning whether what she considers her purpose in life is one she’s truly pursuing for noble reasons or if she even has the resolve for it anymore after what’s happened to her, or PTSD”. Yet, while it may not be the kind that manifests in the form of punching people with a smirk and a bad pun anymore (much as she still definitely does that all the time) what ultimately drives her and defines her is still her strength: to move forward, to forgive, to let go, to do the right thing in spite of the risks. Which could easily come off as some unpleasant “you just have to get over your moping!” dismissal - there’s a bit with her dad that means it saddles riiiiight up to the edge of that - but there’s a weight to how her traumas remain a consistent factor in her life and have shaped her outlook even as her circumstances and day-to-day disposition improve that makes it feel thematically like it’s coming from a place of acknowledgment and endurance rather than denial, even if it’s not handled perfectly. Great to see her apparently recapturing some more of her joie de vivre based on the trailer for Volume 7, and how that’ll interact with how she’s grown should be interesting.

Blake is…tough, because you fundamentally cannot talk about Blake without getting into the Faunus, which is maybe the biggest aspect of RWBY that leaves it in the realm of Problematic Fave. It really, really wants to have something substantial to say about the proper response to racism, and every now and then it pumps out a “capitalism greases the wheels of systemic oppression and vice-versa” or “it’s perfectly reasonable for the oppressed to seek to fight back directly against their oppressors, and even the pacifist in the room can recognize that’s a defensible approach that deserves its place”. But then Abusive Boyfriend Magneto literally murders nuance in Vol. 5 episode 2, and it descends into some borderline “but what about black on black violence” respectability politics shit. It’s the classic X-Men setup - this persecuted race of often superpowered folks torn between pacifism and efforts to prove themselves to their oppressors, and those who think they should rise up and annihilate the flatscans - with most of the same pitfalls, but also we haven’t had over 50 years to get used to that just being how it works here, and it doesn’t have the excuse of having to expand as best it can on a metaphor that was originally devised before most of the people currently handling it were born. All of which would be rough enough, but given I watched this right as Jonathan Hickman’s been completely refining the entire X-Men paradigm outside that outdated binary, it especially grates. I’d love to be directed to any solid counterarguments - I’ve heard it might actually be an analogue, and a well-done one, for The Troubles, which I am one million percent unqualified to evaluate - especially since apparently one of the writers grew up in a mixed-race household, and at the end of the day I’m a white guy who may well be talking completely out his ass. But it sure comes off at a glance as some well-intentioned dudes stumbling through stuff that’s not their business, and that’s inextricable from Blake’s character when so much of her story is her navigating through that metaphor. Hopefully with new writers coming onboard this is something that can be navigated more insightfully in the future.

On a purely personal basis however, Blake’s a standout in terms of relatability when her story comes down to a pretty universal shared horror: how to climb back from having fucked up. She tried really hard to do the right thing, was taken advantage of and led into doing things she eventually realized were wrong, was so shaken that she couldn’t tell who to trust, and then the situation spiraled out of control on every possible front just as things finally seemed to be stabilizing. The way a single mistake - enabled and exacerbated by an abusive past relationship in her case - expands into a self-loathing far beyond the bounds of anything she could possibly be responsible for is brutal and completely understandable, and seeing her start put her self-esteem back together with the help of those closest to her and the power of her original convictions is arguably the single strongest, most clearly conveyed individual character arc in the series. I’m very curious where it goes from here: Adam’s finish represents a logical climax and the setup for a happily-ever-after with Yang (or Sun if they end up going that way after all) for her to coast through the remainder of the series on, but the way emotional consequences have played out in the series thus far I doubt her demons are going to be put to bed that simply.

Finally there’s Ruby, and I am contractually obligated to note up front: she is clearly not a Superman analogue. There is precisely zero percent chance that she was conceived as such or was ever deliberately executed in such a way that mirroring him was kept in mind. Though she IS a super-powered idealist raised in the middle of nowhere with a significant deceased parent who wears a red cape, flies, gives inspiring rallying speeches, has black-ish but primary color-tinted hair, and has a mysterious birthright that involves being able to shoot lasers from her eyes, plus she has a dog who also essentially has superpowers, plus she tells someone they’re stronger than they think they are, plus Yang basically quotes a bit from Kingdom Come regarding her in Rest and Resolutions. But it probably goes a ways in explaining why she works so well for me.

There’s more to it than that of course, though it does bring up the closest way in which she relates to the superhero paradigm: she doesn’t go through an arc in quite the same way as the others, instead being an already solidly-defined character who is simply illustrated by how she interacts with the people and situations around her. She learns and grows and matures, but her most basic motivations and goals and outlook haven’t really changed since the day she enrolled at Beacon. She’s a good, caring person, a leader archetype who still has more than enough personality to spare to keep from falling into the genericism that can often plague that role. A big part of the key I believe is that she’s the audience surrogate in a profound way beyond the obvious touchstones of her frequent awkwardness and self-doubt: the reason she does this is because she was inspired by stories. She’s a fan, ultimately, but one who learned all the right lessons, whether recognizing from day one the way reality falls short of the tales she was raised on but still believing in the ideals they represent, or openly holding up Qrow as a role model while being willing to call him on his shit when push comes to shove. It’s a romantic, hopeful perspective that stands out sharply from even our other heroes even as it mirrors their struggles, but as of yet there’s little to suggest it comes from a place of naivete so much as a belief that it’s the only way to bear the pain of the world and continue to believe in it. Bit by bit it’s clear she’s heading for a breaking point, but all signs point to that being a matter of her ability to withstand what she’s been through, rather than any doubt that it’s necessary, and should that time come she’s inspired plenty who’ll be able to help her back onto her feet the way she has for so many others. So while I understand her speeches apparently grate on some, as far as I’m concerned keep them coming, they’re the beating caring heart of the series and often the sole respite in the eye in the storm.

[the--sad--hatter]

Name Calling (44)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU, DEADPOOL & X-MEN

PAIRING - BUCKY X READER (female reader, no physical descriptions)

WARNINGS - ALL OF THEM, SMUT, VIOLENCE ANGST

DESCRIPTION -  

Vernichtung - Destruction, Annhialation.

It was what you were named and what you were supposed to be but the only thing you wanted to destroy was Bucky Barnes.

The ongoing and bloody war of words between you and Bucky turns in your favor when a disgruntled one night stand of his lets slip a secret when you run into her in the elevator… Now you have all the ammunition you need to destroy your enemy but you don’t plan on killing him quickly. Oh no, Bucky Barnes was going to suffer and you were going to enjoy every second. You just didn’t count on enjoying it quite so much.

But when your past catches up to you in the form of the mad scientist who made you, Bucky might be one of the only things that can save you from yourself. You can’t run from what you are but with his help, you can fight back.

Current Word Count -  121,542

MASTERLIST  or   Read on Ao3

Moodboard by @talesofakindredspirit

Chapter Forty-four - Making Love On The Mountain

“We’re not far over the border.” He informed you.

“The Canadian border?”  

He nodded.

“I slept for what, 9 hours?” You squeaked, surprised.

There was a small smirk on his face.

“We took the jet didn’t we?”You said, shaking you head at him.

“Yeah, I drove you onboard. You slept for three hours. Natasha packed your bag for you.” He said, nodding at the duffle bag on the floor.

You got distracted by the view again.

“It’s beautiful.”

“We’re miles from anyone and nobody knows where we are except Tony, Nat and Steve.” He told you.

“So we should talk.” You sighed.

“About what? You pushing me into a lake, tripping me up and posting it on the internet, dousing everybody with truth serum, dousing yourself with truth serum or finally telling me the truth about Vernichtung?” He asked, somewhere between cross and amused.

“Kissing Remy.” You answered.

“Nothing to talk about. He kissed you, you pushed him away and told him you loved me.”

“But”

“That’s it, I saw the whole thing. I know you kissed him back for a second but you had black veins rippling up your arms, it was kiss him back or go Vernichtung on the front doorstep of a school. It wasn’t a choice.”

“You’re being remarkably understanding about this.”

“Because I love you sweetheart, don’t you get that?” He said intensely.

“I know you do but you shouldn’t.

“Because of your ‘shadow self’?”  

You nodded, leaning your head against your knees.

“Wanda knew, Tony knew, I’m assuming Professor Xavier knew?”

“Yeah.”

“And none of them thought any less of you for it. Nobody you told today does either. The only person who can’t see you for what you are is yourself.”

You peered up at him with confused eyes.

“They kept you in a cage for 20 years, only letting you out to cause you pain. Of course you were angry, you’re human. But you were so desperate to be good that you pulled bits of yourself apart like cotton candy and shoved them where they couldn’t be used to hurt anyone. That doesn’t make you evil, Vernichtung’s existence doesn’t make you evil, it just proves how good you are.”

You didn’t answer him, just went back to hiding your face.

“You are good and strong and brave. You will always do the right thing, even if it means doing the wrong thing first. You think nobody should love you? You told me that loving me wasn’t a choice well loving you wasn’t a choice for me either but if it was, I’d choose you.”

You finally looked up at him and saw the raw honesty in his eyes. You reached out and grabbed his shirt, the material at his chest bunching around your fingers as you pulled him forwards. He went willingly, as hungry for your kiss as you were for his.

His arms pulled you closer and you ended up sitting on his lap, your fingers gripping at his shirt as you lost yourself in his kiss.

The thunderous pounding of his heart was the only noise you registered. The unique blend of his cologne and his skin was assaulting your senses in the most wonderful way, making you feel dizzy. His hands squeezing your hips wasn’t enough though, you needed more.

There was a ripping sound and you stifled your laughter as you realised he was literally ripping your jeans off. Between the two of you, you managed to stop kissing long enough to pull your shirts off before you were pressed together again.

You put your knees on either side of his hips and even through the denim material of his jeans you could feel his hardness. Almost of their own accord your hips ground down and he drank down your moans of pleasure as you moved against him, the thin material of your underwear the only protection you had against the rough denim.

You weren’t sure when your bra had come off but it was lying on the bed behind him looking a little torn and you whimpered in need at the thought.

He pushed you off his lap and you almost scowled until you saw him undoing the zipper on his jeans and pulling them off, his body colliding with yours as soon as he was free of them and he pushed you down onto the mattress.

You wrapped your legs around him and pushed, rolling you over so he was under you again. His chest vibrated against yours as he chuckled at your brazenness and his hands slid from your hips, up your stomach and cupped your breasts. Your head rolled back as his thumbs brushed teasingly across your nipples.

“You can be on top if you like doll, doesn’t mean you’re in control.”

With his jeans gone his shaft was even more pronounced and you didn’t waste any time in grinding against it, causing him to hiss. He abandoned your breasts and grabbed at your panties, pulling them apart and leaving you bare as he flung the ruined material off the bed.

His metal hand splayed across your lower back as he leant up, leaning on his flesh hand for support and attacked your lips with renewed fervour. Your teeth clashed together as you kissed, there was no grace or care in it, you just needed to feel one another.

You pushed up, using you thigh muscles to hover over him so you could pull his boxers down, leaving them halfway down his thighs and without any preamble his hand left your back to hold himself steady while you guided your hips down onto his cock. You let out twin moans of contentment as soon as you were fully seated on him.

You gave yourself a minute to adjust before you pushed at his chest so he was lying down on the bed again and gently gyrated against him. His cock brushed against every sensitive spot inside you as your clitoris rubbed against the rough hairs on his groin and you threw you head back in ecstasy, continuing to move your hips against him, letting the pleasure guide you.

He held you steady with one hand on your thigh as his metal hand cupped your breast, teasing and tweaking your nipples as you rode him.

“Shit doll, look at you.” He groaned, looking up at you in rapture.

The more you moved, the better it felt and you used your burning thigh muscles to push yourself up and down as you gyrated. He drew his knees up to plant his feet on the bed and help you, thrusting upwards as you thrust down, meeting you in the middle so your bodies connected in a delightful way and you moaned breathlessly every time.

You looked at him, this dishevelled sex god under you and nearly came at the sight. With his swollen lips, tousled hair and blown pupils he looked positively wrecked. There was a thin sheen of sweat across his chest and the muscles of his abdomen were contracting with every thrust he made. What made you almost come undone though was the look in his eyes, it was pure, untainted love.

“Oh god, James.” You whimpered.

Your hips sped up, your need driving them down faster and harder making you bounce on his cock and he didn’t falter as he matched your pace, his hand on your thigh leaving fingerprint bruises as he held onto you.

“That’s a good girl, ride my cock sweetheart.” He praised you and you keened loudly at his words.

His metal fingers drifted downwards, to the apex of you thighs and the cool metal brushed against your swollen and needy clit as he rubbed in time with your thrusts, bringing your pleasure to new heights as your movements became sloppy and harried. He kept up the momentum, straining his muscles as he sat up, leaning against the headboard.

You quickly fell into the abyss of pleasure, coming apart above him as he continued to thrust into you and rub against you, holding his own orgasm at bay to watch you fall apart with yours. Only when the pulsating of your cunt around him slowed and you collapsed against him did he allow himself to follow your lead, groaning your name as he came inside you while you kissed his throat, you fingers running through his hair.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You eventually pulled yourself out of the bed to go look around the mountain cabin and found it to be modest but sleek. It was clearly a Bucky Barnes property, not a Stark or Romanov one. Though you supposed it could have been Clint’s or Steve’s but you doubted it.

Or you kind of hoped not as you and Bucky christened as many surfaces as you could, testing the limits of super soldier endurance. You didn’t intent to screw him everywhere, it just kept happening.

He stood in the kitchen, clad in nothing except an unbuttoned pair of jeans as he expertly twirled a knife, cutting an apple and you slammed him against the cupboard and sunk to your knees, freeing his dick from the confines of his jeans and wrapped your lips around it, running your tongue around the tip and moaning at the taste of him. He fisted your hair and swore as you sunk your mouth down on him, taking as much of him deep into you throat as you could, ignoring the sting. The need for oxygen made your eyes burn but you were like a woman possessed as you bobbed your head up and down, sucking and massaging with your tongue. You wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft, letting it help you work his more than considerable length as he watched you, groaning your name and a few choice swear words as he came, his cum shooting down your throat as you swallowed every last drop.

His shirt rode up the back of your thighs exposing a hint of your ass as you stretched onto your tiptoes to lean against the front window and enjoy the view and the next thing you knew you were bent over the back of the sofa while he slammed into you, his hands squeezing and smacking your ass cheeks. He fucked you recklessly hard until you screamed his name while you came before he pulled out and shot hot spurts of cum across your ass.

The sharp edge of the stairs dug into your back as you’d only made it halfway up them before he’d given up and buried his head between your thighs. You had one hand tugging his hair as the other white knuckled the bannister while his mouth sucked your clit relentlessly and two of his metal fingers fucked your pussy. The wooden banister splintered under your grip or your orgasm washed over you.

It wasn’t the last thing to be broken and you hadn’t even been in the cabin for a full 24 hours.

The glass divider on the shower had been smashed by a metal fist while the man attached to the fist fucked you into the wall. You’d both paused for half a second before shrugging and ignoring it.

One of the wooden dining chairs was being used as spare firewood after you rode him a little too hard during a failed attempt at a calm, romantic dinner. In your defence, he didn’t need to lick sauce off his fingers quite so seductively.

The cracked wall plaster behind the wooden desk in the spare room/office was completely your fault though, you were woman enough to admit it. If you hadn’t wanted Bucky to fuck you so hard on it that it had slammed into the wall then you shouldn’t have draped yourself on it with your legs parted, giving him a view of what you weren’t wearing underneath his shirt again.

The cabin was falling apart and you both had bruises and bite mark littering your body. The violent, satisfying sex hadn’t come as a surprise to you. What was surprising was how well the two of you worked outside of the sexcapdes.

Something as simple as doing the dishes was like a well rehearsed dance as you washed and he dried, the two of you automatically moving around one another as you chatted about Steve’s inability to flirt or the new telescope on the roof. It was domestic and comfortable and it felt right.

At the end of the first full day as you snuggled exhaustedly into his chest you grinned happily.

“I love you.”

“I love you too doll.” He responded easily, kissing your head as he switched the light off.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The moral of the story is that I might shove angst at you but I can make it all better. There’s more from these two to come (pun intended).

@nerdandproud-86 @harrison-shot-first@thejourneyneverendsx @thelostallycat @inquisitor-selvala@the-corruptor @iovher @kendrawr-kitkat @phoenix-whiskey-tears @the–real-wombat @buckitybarnes@fairislesheets@angieptt @meganjonezzzz@dugan365@fluffeh-kitty@memanda17 @krystallynx@theonelittleone@piscesbarnes@free-as-fishes@tarastudiesalot@captainamericasbeard@dropthepizza346@jaynnanadrews @likes-to-smell-books @drdorkus @life-wanderer @metalarmlover @animegirlgeeky @jsmith509

[christinaroseandrews]

Randomization and You: How to ask the right questions, know when to roll the dice, and decide when to invoke the word of God

One of the problems that writers often run into is when they’re world-building, plotting, and character-creating, is finding the answers to every foreseeable question ever.  Which is your main character’s dominant hand?  When were they born?  Did someone get pregnant from unprotected sex? Who dies in this horrific event that didn’t happen in canon? What race is this random side character? You get the picture.  

You can answer all of these questions on your own, and if they’re important, you absolutely should.  But when it doesn’t matter, when you don’t care, or if you’re unsure, sometimes randomization can help.  Randomization takes out bias. Or, conversely, a roll of the dice can clarify the direction that you actually want to go. 

The two of us use randomization a lot.  Not just in our fanfiction, but in our original works as well.  We do it for everything from character birthdays to ethnicity to who a background character might end up with to who lives and who dies.  Randomization is a nifty tool if you know how to use it.

In this meta, we’re going to go over when and how to randomize.

A note: there are major spoilers for some of our fanfic and minor spoilers for some of our original fiction.  If you want to know what those spoilers are, please feel free to message us.

oOo

When is it a good time to randomize?

Randomization is best done in the planning stages.  It’s not something you want to do halfway through the story (although you can, if you discover you need to -- we certainly have!), but it’s best done early on, when you’re still world-building, plotting, and creating your characters.  

Say you’re creating a fantasy world.  You know you have three countries that are going to be your primary focus.  But does the world have more nations?  You might not know the answer to that.  In which case, it might be time to randomize.  

It can also be used in character creation.  Sure, you’ve got your main characters and you know what their main traits are, but do you know when their birthdays are?  Or other seemingly unimportant details that may end up being important later, like religion, physical characteristics, or taste in entertainment.  This is especially important when you’re dealing with secondary characters who may not be as fully fleshed in your mind when you’re in the character creation phase. Because seriously, unconscious bias will come into play here. The number of books and stories we read where the only characters are the ethnicity of the author is staggering. This is especially problematic when it comes to creating accurate representation. Randomization can solve this. Want to write a story about 5 friends who kick ass and take names? You can literally randomize every major trait -- age, gender, sexuality, race, religion, skillset… you name it. You don’t have to randomize everything if you have a vision, but you should randomize things that “don’t matter” like the doctor or the secretary or the janitor. Randomization can remove stereotypes and bias. It’s colorblind casting but for the author. 

You also can choose ranges within which to randomize -- for example, if said story is about 5 teenagers, your range can be 14-18.  You are definitely not required to use all possible options while randomizing.

Then there’s randomization when you develop your plot.  Say you’re writing a romance.  You know your main characters will end up together.  But what about your secondary characters?  Your main characters’ best friends/siblings are going to end up meeting.  Do they hook up?  Are they interested?  Believe it or not, Prim and Bing getting together in Floriography was entirely randomized.  (Floriography has since been turned into an original work, The Language of Flowers -- but we kept said randomized relationship.)

Another thing -- in a romance, you know your main characters will end up together and you may know how they get there.  But what if you don’t?  You can randomize where they have their dates (using both typical and atypical choices such as a restaurant or a monster truck rally), other events that might interfere, and various other beats in your plotting.

Or the biggie... who dies in a major event? Plot Armor is lovely. The trio in Let Me Fly has Plot Armor. (We are not killing our trio, stop asking!) But everyone else… nope… no Plot Armor. That meant when Johanna Mason failed her rolls to survive the flu, she died. We love Johanna. Love her. She’s a blast to write. But she wasn’t crucial to the story we wanted to tell, so she died. The same is true for a lot of other people in our stories. Some deaths we’ve planned. But some that happened ended up changing the story… we’re looking at you, Third Quarter Quell deaths in Let Me Fly. Don’t think we don’t see you. Justice for Justus, indeed!

So yeah. Randomization can completely change your plot and understanding of the characters. It can even help you out of an “I don’t know what to do!” slump.

You want to go wild with the randomization?  Go to TV Tropes and pick a list of tropes that would make up a main character.  Pick a list of villain tropes.  Pick a list of plot tropes, romance tropes, whatever.  Number them all, shove them into a list, use a randomizer, and pick ten of them.  Congratulations, you now have the outline for a short story.  Think this doesn’t work?

Well… here goes.

We went to TV Tropes Character pages first to get our protagonists and antagonist. And this is what we picked.

  Sounds fun, right? I bet you can start imagining stories that could fit these tropes already. 

We ran these through the randomizer and got the following:

A Gentleman Thief and a Big Beautiful Woman Wake Up in a Room on a spaceship wearing matching rings. The door opens to reveal a notorious Space Pirate who congratulates them on their Accidental Marriage. Unfortunately they won’t be able to enjoy the honeymoon Mwah-ha-ha-ha! While they are making their escape, they end up someplace where they have to truly pretend to be newlyweds and they realize that somehow along the way they’ve Become the Mask and are truly in love. YAY! 

Sure it’s pretty rough and there are some parts missing, but it’s an absolutely viable plot… and I’m fairly certain I’ve seen something like this before. This is a great way to get out of a writing slump or even your comfort zone.

It’s all about asking questions and deciding if you know the answer, if the answer is necessary, and what the possible answers can be.

oOo

How do you randomize?

Randomization isn’t always as easy as rolling a die or flipping a coin.  Sometimes it takes creating spreadsheets or lists, while other times it involves understanding probability and percentages.

For example, say you’re writing a fantasy novel that features swordplay.  Knowing if someone is left or right handed is actually plot-relevant.  However, fifty percent of the population isn’t left handed.  Here, Wikipedia is your friend.  Knowing the percentages will help you know what numbers to use.

Another common time to do randomization is pregnancy.  Depending on what method of birth control and/or pregnancy prevention your characters are using, you can research the failure rates.  For example, when figuring out if Katniss was going to get pregnant during the arc of Brand New Breeze (second arc of Let Me Fly), we looked up the failure rate for the rhythm method and applied it to each menstrual cycle she had -- which, by the way, the length and duration of her menstrual cycle was also randomized.  She did okay for the first few months, and then all of a sudden, right around the time that the three of them got married (which was not randomized), she got pregnant.  

That opened up a whole slew of other randomizations, including: did the egg implant?  Did she have a miscarriage?  Was she carrying twins?  Who was the father?  Was the baby a boy or a girl?  What were its eye color, skin color, and hair color (based off of the parents and what was genetically possible)?  How difficult was the pregnancy?  When exactly did she give birth?  How long was the labor?  How difficult was the labor?  What time was the child born?  What were its length and weight?

You notice that was a lot of questions.  But they came in order.  The first question that got asked was: did she get pregnant?  The rhythm method is one of the least reliable forms of birth control.  Without proper medical data, Katniss was guessing, which increased her chances.  According to the Mayo Clinic, thirteen out of every one hundred women get pregnant.  Because of other reasons, we upped it to twenty percent for Katniss.

Using random.org, we rolled on a 1 to 100 scale for each menstrual cycle, with a roll of 81 or higher being a pregnancy.  Katniss did not get pregnant on her first two; she did on her third.

After conception, there are two primary hurdles to a pregnancy.  The first is implantation.  Many fertilized embryos never implant.  The numbers change based off of the age of the mother, the health of the mother, and other environmental conditions, but it’s estimated that at least 30% of fertilized embryos never implant.  So Katniss got randomized on that with a roll of 30 or below being a failed implantation.  She rolled higher.

Then there’s the risk of miscarriage, which, considering Katniss’s environment, health, and activity levels, we gave her a flat 30% chance of miscarriage.  Again, she did not miscarry.

Then it was just answering a lot of yes/no questions and looking up pregnancy-related details.  Did you know that the chance of twins is about 10%?  Identical twins is 1%, so the other 9% are fraternal.  If there are fraternal twins, they can have different fathers.  

We didn’t roll for anything higher than twins because the chances of Katniss surviving a pregnancy with triplets or more with no medicine are extremely low, and that’s if she even got pregnant with more than two babies at once -- which is highly unlikely.  We did not roll for Katniss dying in pregnancy.  That was us invoking the word of God.  

But wait, you ask.  Didn’t Katniss have a chance of dying?  

And you would be correct if this were the real world and not words on a page, Katniss would absolutely have a chance of dying in pregnancy.  However, that was a direction we were not interested in exploring, and that’s when invoking the word of God becomes necessary.  You have to know what you are comfortable writing as an author.  Not everyone wants to write a pregnancy, so they might say, “Nope! This unprotected sex did not result in a pregnancy!”  While others, like us, will occasionally roll for this -- while other times we’re like “Nope!” Trust us, we’ve totally noped Katniss getting pregnant… random.org has it in for her, I swear!

Some people might’ve said “oh hell no, I’m not dealing with a pregnancy in this story” and that’s perfectly fine.  They wouldn’t even have rolled for it.  It depends on what you’re willing to do as a writer.  But often that’s something that randomization can help you with… knowing your own mind. Because oftentimes people don’t know where to go next because they have choice paralysis… randomization can help solve that problem. 

oOo

So when do you invoke the word of God?

Well, here’s a secret.  The two of us invoked the word of God when it came to both of the Hunger Games in Let Me Fly.  

For the 74th Games, the original randomized winner was the girl from Three.  Unfortunately, that did not work with our plot.  Three was too far from our group for Cressida and her group to flee from there and conceivably make it to our characters, which was a plot point we wanted to happen.  So we rerolled with an eye toward what would work, and Taylor, the girl from District Eight, won.

For the 75th Games, the initial randomized winner was the woman from Eight, and -- having plotted the 74th Games -- we realized that the Capitol really wouldn’t be okay with back-to-back winners from an outlying semi-rebellious district.  So we rerolled and got Chaff.  (By the way, some of the side characters -- the infant for instance -- had zero chance of making it out of the bloodbath alive, and each other character had a percentage for what their chances of winning were based on their age, skill, and other factors, and we used a 1-100 scale for randomization.)  

However, there was another thing that happened that basically has colored our plot from the moment that it happened.  

Justus came in second.

The six-year-old kid only had a two percent chance of being picked at any specific time.  But he came in second.  And we took that and ran with it.

That is how randomization can end up creating plot for your story, and also why you want to do it fairly early on.  If your outline changes, you may need to do it later.  Or if you’re a pantser.  But if you’re a plotter, you’ll want all your ducks in a row before you get started.

In reality, randomization is all about asking questions and figuring out probabilities.  And sometimes the questions can tell you which way you want to go -- and you end up answering the question itself without randomization ever coming into play.  Or the randomization tells you which choice you wanted… something you often know by your reaction to the choice you rolled.  (If you groan at something you roll, it is probably a choice you’ll want to override.)

Remember that you are not bound by your randomization.  If you absolutely hate something that randomized and can’t figure out how to make it work, throw it out!  It’s still giving you valuable information, because it’s telling you something about where you don’t want the story to go.  

Sometimes it’s even fun to work with the hard things, the complicated things, the stuff you never expected to roll.  Making something surprising work is a challenge -- and a way to grow as an author.  But if you can’t or don’t want to, you can always toss your randomization. 

oOo

So why would you want to randomize?

One of the downfalls of being a writer is that you know everything about your story.  Where it’s going, the relationships, everything.  Randomization creates that feeling of wonder that you experience when doing something new.  It allows you to brainstorm, and it can force you down paths you might not otherwise have chosen to take.

The two of us were very hesitant about pairing up Prim and Bing in Floriography (later The Language of Flowers).  They were the siblings of our main characters, they were seven or eight years apart in age, they lived a good four, five hour drive away from each other, they’d just met… and would they even want to be together?  We asked the question on a whim.  And then we rolled it.  And then we ran with it.  And it’s become one of our favorite pairings ever.

We would’ve never paired the two together if it weren’t for the randomization.

We’ve even done this when writing whole fics… like we didn’t know what we wanted to write, just that we wanted to play in a particular fandom. So we rolled what characters we were going to play with.  This is how we ended up with a Darcy/Tony/Sif threesome because Why Not? 

We also do this with original fiction all the time. As stated above, it deals with the unconscious bias that we carry in regards to racism, sexism, and a whole slew of other -isms/-phobias. It can also help shape directions where you might take a story. Like our Adeniyi Siblings Series… we initially had all of the siblings paired with white characters… but then (thankfully) we realized the serious Unfortunate Implications… so we broke out the randomizer. Other than Paige (who we’d already written her story). All three of the other siblings’ significant others changed, and it made our series better in the long run. 

In addition to removing bias and answering questions, randomization can be fun.  Even if you never incorporate what you’ve randomized, you’ve got these little details, special things that you know about the character or the plot or the world.  We can tell you EVERYTHING that Katniss and Prim hunted and gathered in Damaged, Broken, and Unhinged. We can tell you every single character who got sick from the flu in Let Me Fly. This is information that none of you need, but gosh darn it it was fun to find out, and it colored how we wrote the story even if the specifics never made it on the page.

As we’ve hopefully explained, randomization can be a powerful tool in the writer’s toolbox.  But like any tool, it’s about knowing when and how to use it. We recommend using it to answer questions. Develop plots and even plot twists. And most importantly, remove unconscious bias. 

Now if you’ll excuse us, we have a Gentleman Thief and a Big Beautiful Woman demanding that their story be written.

Until next time!

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[thewritewolf]

Rekindle Chapter 10: Victorian AU

Adrien talks with his father and Marinette dreams of heroic duos long past. 

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@marichatmay

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

“...And on the fourteenth, you have been scheduled for your penultimate winter shoot of the season, the final being for the middle of January. Do you understand so far?”

“Yes, father,” Adrien lifelessly replied, making another note in his schedule book.

The photoshoot didn’t really matter to him - all he cared about was that it was another day that he wouldn’t be able to meet with Marinette. A glance at all the other dates in December reminded him that his father was certainly keeping him busy this month. That wasn’t anything new; father liked to stay busy during the holidays and now that Adrien was technically an adult, he made sure that Adrien stayed busy too. Whether he wanted to be or not.

“...Which brings us to the New Year’s Party that the Mayor is throwing. You will, of course, be attending. We have already selected your date for the evening.”

That brought Adrien out of the stupor he often fell into while talking with his father. “Excuse me?”

Gabriel sighed. “Not paying attention again? I said that you will be attending the New Year’s Party and with a girl of my choosing. What is there not to understand?”

Plenty. He’d let his father dictate a lot of his life but if there was anything that was Adrien’s alone, it was his choice of date. Even if it was just for one party, which Adrien severely doubted. His father had already dropped hints for the last few years that it would be good for the brand if Adrien had a public relationship with another model. Purely as a PR stunt, of course.

“I’m sorry, father, but I will not be attending. I have prior plans.” 

Likely sensing trouble, Plagg appeared from his vacation home and watched his chosen carefully. His ears twitched as he no doubt tried to listen in on Gabriel’s side.

“That’s absurd,” his father replied, “I have heard of no such plans. You simply don’t want to go to this party, but that is irrelevant. What matters is that this gathering will help improve our standing.”

“All due respect, father, but I don’t need to tell you about every single plan I make, especially when it is over two weeks away.” Adrien did his best to ignore the stab of pain in his heart from his father’s disbelief, and the surging tide of panic he felt at defying him. Plagg was doing his best to silently goad him on, and he wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or angry at him for it.

“If this plan is real, then tell me exactly where it is you plan on going. This lowbrow party that is so much more important than your duties to your family and our company.”

“First, it won’t be lowbrow. Second, I learned my lesson the last couple times I told you about my plans and suddenly those plans got cancelled or I got mysteriously uninvited.” Maybe the snide tone was pushing it. His father certainly didn’t appreciate it. “I’m twenty three years old, father. I can make my own decisions.”

“I don’t care how old you are, you are my son and the face of this company!”

Adrien winced at his father abruptly shouting at him. That normally wasn’t his style, but maybe the reminder of his age reminded him of another big anniversary coming up soon. Even after all these years, he hadn’t managed to move on. With that in mind, he did his best to stifle his emotions as his father let loose with all his pent up anger and frustration. After a few minutes, his father had to stop for breath and Adrien deliberately misinterpreted that as him ending the conversation.

“If that is all, father, then I have things that I need to attend to. Goodbye.”

“Now you wait just a-” Click.

As if hanging up on his father expended all the anger that he had built up, Adrien simply let the phone fall from his limp fingers onto the couch. He wasn’t sure how long he spent staring at the floor, but it didn’t matter. Soon enough his vision became blurry and the tears began to come in full force.

Plagg didn’t have anything to say, no ancient wisdom, or platitudes about cheese, nothing. Instead, he just curled up against Adrien’s neck and did his best to comfort him with his presence.

---------------------------------

It was late. Much too late. The clocks had already chimed the hour and he had promised her that he would arrive no later.

She was just about to call on Tikki when there was a knock at her balcony window. At three stories up, at midnight, there could only be one person out there. Raising the edge of her dress, she rushed to the balcony doors and threw them open, relief flooding her when she saw his easy grin shining back at her.

“Bit of an odd day to see you in all yer fineries, m’lady,” the ruffian bowed his head to her from his position sitting on the railing of her balcony. His attire was the same as it always was when he used his powers - all black, from his greatcoat down to his stiff pants and boots. The only color was the gold trim on his ornate mask, and a flower in his top hat.

“As much as I would love it, I cannot be in my sleuthing uniform at all times, Tom.” She shook her head. “What do you have for me?”

“Not so quick, my sweet lady. I have a fee for my information, if you recall. I risked much for this knowledge and the Black Tom does nothing for free.” He leaned forward until their faces were barely a finger’s breadth apart.

Rolling his eyes at his antics, she moved quickly to grab the hair on the back of his head and step forward, crashing her lips against his. His ‘fee’ wasn’t much of one, given their ongoing secret relationship, but he so loved his dramatics. She didn’t have the heart to deprive him of so simple a joy, and if it kept him happy, then so be it. After a few heartbeats of indecency, she pulled away, resting her forehead against his as they both got their breath back.

“I always pay a fair price. Now give me the clues I need, Tom, or that will be the last payment you ever receive from me.”

She could hear him gulp as he followed her into her room. A button pressed and a secret door opened to her base of operations in the fight against the evils that lurked within London.

“It’s about as bad as Mister Fu claimed,” Tom stood on the opposite side of her table where she had placed a map of the city. A great web of annotations cluttered the space and only made sense to her eyes. “Occultists are up to something. My contacts on the streets couldn’t tell me much besides that, but something big is about to happen.”

“I’ll pass word along to Fu. Maybe he can find out more.”

“I hope your trust in this mysterious man is worth it. Not right, all this mucking about with spirits and such, but at least we got one of them on our side. Evens the odds a little.”

“That’s the hope. What about the opium den?”

Tom paled. “Well, good news is we won’t have to worry about them anymore. Some kinda monster got in their hideout.” A shiver went through him. “When you said we’d be cleaning up crime, I didn’t think it’d be with a mop and bucket, sweet bird.”

She tapped at her chin in thought. “Maybe the monster didn’t get into their hideout…” Tom raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond, knowing full well how she worked. “Maybe the monster escaped the hideout.”

“What? You don’t think…?”

“This is just conjecture at the moment. I’ll be stopping by the scene of the crime tomorrow evening and seeing what the boys from Scotland Yard have missed.”

Tom stepped over to her to take her hand in his. “Be careful out there, my lady. Rough times are coming, I’m sure of it.”

-----------------------------------------

As close as they were to the middle of winter, it was no surprise that the sun wasn’t out yet. Even if Marinette was woken up early by another strange dream. One good thing she could say about these… dreams? Memories? Flashbacks? One of the good things she could say about them was that they at least left her fully awake.

While she fumbled for her phone, Marinette whispered into the darkness, “Tikki? Tikki, are you awake?”

Somewhere beside her head, she heard her kwami’s reply, “I’m here. Is something the matter? Did you have another dream?”

She finally found her phone. Seven in the morning, one new message. Funneling that information aside for now, she answered Tikki, “Yes. This one felt much more vivid than the last. This time, I could feel what she was feeling as if I were there.” Marinette gave herself a moment to really think about what she remembered in the dream. “...What did the Black Tom and his Ladybug face? It didn’t sound like they were fighting akuma.”

There was a long pause. “The Lady in Red. That was her name.”

“Huh?”

“That was her name - the Ladybug of that time was called the Lady in Red. She was a detective.”

“Oh. She seemed… good at what she did.” Marinette wasn’t sure how to proceed. Tikki almost never talked about past Ladybugs and when she did it was always very vague. This was the first time she had ever named one of Marinette’s predecessors.

“She was amazing! I just know you two would’ve gotten along like best friends.”

Marinette finally found the lamp switch and saw Tikki sitting on the pillow beside her, staring wistfully into the distance. It was easy to forget how old her cookie-loving best friend was - how many Ladybugs she had guided. Would she talk about Marinette in the same way?

Pushing those thoughts out of the way before existential dread could set in, Marinette asked again, “What did the Black Tom and the Lady in Red fight?”

“Master Fu chose them because of magical threats that were on the rise in London. The empire of the day had gathered a lot of mystical artifacts and tinkered with them, leading to… bad things happening.” Tikki finally turned back to Marinette and gave a half smile. “But don’t worry! Magic has faded so much from the world that the only artifacts really left are the Miraculous.”

“Considering at least one of those is in the hands of a supervillain, that doesn’t really comfort me a lot.” Marinette threw her legs over the side of her bed and Tikki floated up onto her shoulder. “Let’s get started with the day.”

A short while later, Marinette was making breakfast when she finally remembered to check her new message, which happened to be from Chat Noir.

Chat Noir: Sorry I cant meet up anytime soon :( But! I’m going to a New Year’s Eve masquerade party. Want to meet up with me there? I’ll be in a Zorro outfit with a green sash.

It took a moment for Marinette to process that she would be meeting up with Chat Noir outside the masks - at least, outside the magical masks. Would she recognize him? Did the magic block work while they were in their civilian forms? Although she had given some thought to trying to go to the workplace party again, this invitation was too good to pass up. There were still two weeks, which would be plenty of time to make a dress for the masquerade.

If she just so happened to include a lot of red and maybe have a Ladybug mask, then who could blame her? Maybe her kitty could use a hint or two.

[thejollyroger-writer]

Odd Choice of Dying Words

Summary: Based on this post. Emma is reminded of a terrible first date. Thankfully, her bartender has a son who would be the perfect fit for her. 

Tagging:  @thesschesthair @winterbythesea ​ @distant-rose ​ @shireness-says ​ @kmomof4 ​

Also on AO3!

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” she mumbles, running one hand through her hair while the other manages to not slam her phone down on the bar hard enough to shatter it. She was enjoying her night alone, slowly sipping on her second glass of whiskey while she scrolled through Instagram when the notification popped up: “New email: Walsh Oz. Subject: Notes from Our Date, 9 February 2019”

At first, she wasn’t going to open it. Honestly, she didn’t even remember Walsh at first, just another meaningless name added to the list of incredibly shitty dates she’d been on in the last few months. She’s not sure what it is about her that seems to draw in assholes recently.

Okay, not recently. Her whole damn life, actually. Never, once, has she been in a relationship with a decent man, and the one person she thought was decent turned out to be the worst of them all.

That’s the last place her head needs to be right now, she tells herself.

Looking down at the words on her phone once more, she finishes the rest of the glass and sets it down on the bar, perhaps a little harder than she anticipated, and she doesn’t fail to notice that she’s caught the attention of the bartender, a rough-looking older man with short grey hair, a trimmed grey mustache, and a dot on his right cheek that Emma originally thought was a mole, but has since realized is a small black heart tattoo.

“Another?” he asks, and she knows the answer should be no, but there is something about the man’s sweet smile that makes her say yes. When he comes back with the bottle, giving her a bit more than a single shot, he leans against the bar, his still-toned forearm pressed against the shining marble. “Something the matter, sweetheart?”

She shouldn’t tell him. There is absolutely no reason that she should burden this wonderful older man with her problems. But sitting here, drawing her refilled glass back into her hand, that’s exactly what she wants to do. She taps the edge of the glass against the bar a few times, pursing her lips for a moment before she turns her eyes back up to the bartender.

“A few weeks ago, I went on this date with this total idiot that I met online, his name was Walsh. He was the rudest man I’ve ever met, the worst conversationalist, and it became the absolute worst date I have ever been on. So bad that I completely forgot about it, until about three minutes ago, when the bastard emailed me a list of things I did wrong on the worst date of my life.”

He raises his eyebrows at her, in absolute disbelief of her words, and she sets her phone down on the bar to show him. He does not read the whole thing, but enough to get the point, his eyes wide with incredulity when they turn back up to her. “Darling, this man is an insolent sniveling pup and I hope you ignore every single word on this email,” he says, then smiles at her again.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, pulling her phone back across the bar, and when the bartender walks away, she is so distracted by the words on her screen that she doesn’t realize he has pulled out his phone and is quickly typing out a message on it, peering at her out of the corner of his eye.

The night passes slowly, the minutes ticking away as songs blasting out of the crackling speakers. Emma has finished her third glass and has moved on to her fourth when she feels someone slide into the seat beside her, the seat that has somehow managed to remain empty throughout the night. Was she just that unappealing, that no one wanted to sit next to her, even in a packed bar? Was it her resting bitch face?

“Rough night, love?” he asks, his voice low and thick with an accent.

Not your love. The words are on the tip of her tongue, her mouth open to say them, but when she turns and looks at the man that has taken a seat next to her, her words stop dead in their tracks. Because there, sitting next to her at the bar, is the most beautiful man she has ever seen. She’s half-tempted to reach out and touch him, make sure that he is real, but when he cocks his eyebrow in response to her silence and her agape expression, she knows that there is no way that he could have come from her imagination. She’s simply just not that good.

“Uh, yeah,” she chokes out finally, choosing this moment to take a sip from her glass only to realize that her hands have started shaking.

“In need of someone to complain to?”

She should say no, turn him away, tell him to find someone who might actually be interested in him. But she raises her eyes and meets those of the bartender, delivering a drink to the man next to her, and he winks at her, a soft smile on his face — for some reason, the bartender brought this gorgeous man to her, and he has never let her down so far.

“As a matter of fact,” she says softly, turning on the barstool to face him. “Since you offered, I do have a few things I’d like to get off my chest.”

He takes a long sip of his drink, and for a moment, Emma thinks he might regret his decision to become acquainted with her, but when he sets his glass down and the bar and turns his full attention towards her, all worry melts away.

“Hit me, love.”

She takes a deep breath, then does exactly that: “A few weeks ago, I went on the absolute worst date of my life. All he did the whole time was talk about himself, save a few questions that I was absolutely not going to answer on a first date. He was an absolute cheapskate, ordered a side salad and a water, then got mad at me when I offered to pay for my own meal. It was terrible, the worst night of my life, and there have been more than enough awful dates. And I forgot about it completely, not even caring to think about Walsh anymore.”

She pauses for a moment, taking another sip of her drink, and she does not fail to notice that his eyes are wide with interest. His blue, blue eyes, a color so piercing that it cannot possibly be natural.

“Until earlier tonight, when he had the audacity to email me a list of things I could have done better during our date, including my wardrobe, my lack of make-up, and my dinner choice.”

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” she replies, pulling the email back up on her phone before setting it on the bar between them. “Here, read it in its entirety. It’s terribly poetic, an excellent way to make someone want to go on a second date with you.”

As he reads through it, Emma does the same, overcome by another wave of anger by it as she does so.

 Hello, Emma.

A few weeks ago, you and I went on a date, and I figured you were wondering why you hadn’t heard from me yet, so I would like to explain. There were a few things you did on the date that I didn’t much appreciate, and while I apologize if any of them offend you, I think I should let you know what you did wrong.

 Your natural dark hair would look so much better with your facial structure, especially if you grew it out more. Long hair is much sexier

You have such a great body but you wore jeans and a leather jacket? That was a huge turn-off for me

Your face would have looked much nicer if you used a little bit of make-up. Just a little cover-up, some concealer, some color. Just so I’m not embarrassed to be seen with you.

You seemed a little unsure of yourself the whole night, you should learn to be more confident. Confidence is sexy!

You ordered a burger. I shouldn’t even need to explain this one, it was just unappetising to watch you eat and you could have gone without that many calories

Diet Coke would have been a much better choice as well

You kept ignoring my questions, I know you said you didn’t want to talk about your life but I didn’t expect you to avoid talking at all

You think I didn’t see you roll your eyes while I was talking? That was incredibly rude

Even though I told you all about my job and how much money I make you still offered to pay, like you didn’t think I was capable of it, and it made me feel like shit

I tried to compliment you so many times and you didn’t try to return them even once

Not to mention I made so many jokes and you didn’t laugh at a single one.

Not only wouldn’t you kiss me, but you jumped back every time I so much as touched you, which tore a large hole in my ego. If you’re going out with someone you should at least let them touch you

But you also wouldn’t even give me a kiss at the end of the night. I thought we were doing well before that but you really made me question whether I wanted to see you again

 I will give you a month to take these into account and decide whether you can become the right woman for me. I hope you take these all into consideration in the future.

- Walsh

 He is silent for a moment, most likely trying to come up with some sort of response, and the one that he finds does not disappoint.

“Odd choice of dying words,” he says, a radiant smile spreading across his face.

While Emma understands what he means, she still wants to know why this is what he decided to comment with. “What?”

“Well, obviously, you’re an incredible woman and a bit of a fighter, and if I were you, I would find that absolute tosser and beat the daylights out of him.”

“I appreciate that compliment, but I think the best plan of action is to just stay here and drink until I forget about him again.”

“Would you like a companion?” he asks, and when she turns to him, she is ready to tell him that he is under no obligation to stay here with her. But there is something about the smile on his face and the sparkle in his blue eyes that stops her words again.

“I would really appreciate that, actually,” she says, a smile of her own growing across her lips. “I’m Emma.”

“Nice to meet you, darling. I’m Killian Jones.”

 The night passes as they continue to chat with each other, recalling memories of other bad dates, but Walsh takes the cake — even compared to the woman who asked Killian to come home with her, only to remember as she unlocks her front door that she’s married and has a family. But the end of the night approaches much faster than either of them anticipate, and before they know it, the bartender is announcing last call, only a few patrons left at their seats.

Emma’s face falls, honestly not ready for the night to end, but Killian just smiles at her, winking as he pushes his barstool away from the counter. “No worries, love. I have an in.”

Emma has absolutely no idea what he means, but watches as he makes his way around the bar, kissing the bartender on the cheek before grabbing one of the rags. “Hey, pa, I’ll take it from here.”

The man wraps his arm around Killian’s shoulders, squeezing him against him.

“Thanks, son. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll take a seat here next to this lovely lady.” When Emma realizes that he is talking about her, she blushes softly, not for the first time that night. The older man smiles widely at her before removing his apron and hanging it on a hook on the wall, coming around the front of the bar to take a seat next to her as Killian begins to sweep behind the bar.

“I’m Teddy, by the way. I’m hoping that my son provided much better company than that dolt that emailed you earlier.”

Emma can’t help but smile in return.

“Did you tell him to come to the bar tonight?”

“You looked like you could use some company, sweetheart, and he’s the only cavalry I have left. I’m hoping that he proved himself to be the perfect gentleman.”

It may have been the glasses of whiskey that she’s been slowly downing all night, or the sincerity in the man’s eyes, or some mixture of both, but Emma leans closer to Teddy and mutters in his ear, “I wouldn’t mind getting to know him better.”

When he turns to face her, his eyes are wide with excitement. “Is that so?”

Taking another sip from her glass, she nods at Teddy, smiling at him again, and she realizes that she does not want the night to end.

So it doesn't. Killian offers to walk her back to her apartment, just a few blocks away, and before he can even ask her out on their first date, a joke about making sure it's not the worst of her life on the tip of his tongue, Emma reaches out and grabs him by his leather jacket, pressing her lips against his.

It is, without a doubt, the best first kiss of her life, simultaneously soft and passionate, and much like that night, she doesn't want it to end.

When they pull away from each other, it is only enough to keep their foreheads against each other.

“Come upstairs with me,” she breathes, at the same time he says, “Go out with me.”

“Okay,” she responds, noticing that he does not respond right away.

“Emma,” he whispers after a moment, raising his hand to press his palm against her cheek. “I don't — I don't want to rush this.”

“I've never met anyone like you, Killian,” she says, snaking her arms around his neck, his hands warm against her face and her hip, even through her jacket. “We weren't even on a date and it was one of the best dates I've ever been on.” She leans into his palm.

“Are you sure, love?” His expression is so serious, so caring, that it sends a chill through Emma's body.

“I've never been so sure about anything,” she says softly, smiling at him, and he returns it. “Make sure to thank your dad for me, too.”

[rebelwheelssoapbox]

Why Is Governor Cuomo Attacking Disabled New Yorkers Like Me? (And What You Can Do About It)

In 2018, my body developed Dysphagia (a condition where easily swallowing food and water, is not really an option.) Meanwhile, my brain, apparently feeling like the first one needed a friend, grew a second brain cyst. As a result, I became mostly bed bound and spent a good portion of my summer in a hospital and then eventually in a rehab/nursing home.

When I was in these environments, I only got worse. Both places struggled to accommodate my particular dietary needs (in fact I lost even more weight while there), they had absolutely zero training in regard to processing disorders (as my brain is on the spectrum), and refused to let me use my motorized wheelchair with spine support (which my spine needs), forcing me to either stay in bed all day or attempt to use their manual wheelchair which was harmful to my spine (as it lacked the spine support that it requires), and was utterly exhausting to my muscles. It was to the point where several times, I went from mostly bed bound to totally bed bound. Furthermore, in the 3 weeks that I was in the nursing home, I received a total of two showers. Sometimes I got a partial “sponge bath” where they hastily “washed” maybe (at best) 1/5th of your body, but never washed the soap off which really irritated your skin. Thankfully, I transitioned from the nursing home to my apartment, as I knew that with proper services, I could live in my home and in my chosen community. That's when I started to apply for medicaid and specifically CDPA, a program that would allow me to choose who I hire and work with as my PCA (or personal care attendant).

[a photo of myself in my hospital bed, post voting on Election Day. It wore me out, but with the assistance of my CDPA PCA, I was able to do it. Image of a disabled woman with spastic arms holding up a “I Voted” sticker, as she lays on her hospital bed with purple sheets. She is wearing headphones to reduce the noise.] The word in the disability community was that CDPA was the way to go, and it makes sense. After all, if you must rely on people to feed and bathe you, wouldn't you want a say in who does that? Wouldn't you feel safer interviewing the candidates beforehand and having a voice in who is allowed into your home? Having input as to who is in charge of your health? With traditional services, you do not have a say in any of this. I know this because at one point, while in the process of setting up CDPA, due to bureaucratic hoopla, I was somewhat forced into traditional services (it was either that or have them close my case and re-apply for Medicaid all over again - which was not much of an option as the process takes so long as it is).

[a photo of myself as The Woman’s March before the setback. I am wearing a cat hat and a holding a protest sign that reads “Disabled People Don’t Want Your Pity. We Just Want Out Rights.”] In addition to basically having to let total strangers into my home, all the PCAs that the agency sent to me, were not fluent in English, to the point where I could not communicate my needs (and they could not communicate theirs). I once asked if I could please have a popsicle. I was brought an apple. I said “no, no, it's in the freezer.” but as much as this person tried, they did not know the word. But it went beyond that. Because the PCAs and I could not fully communicate with each other, they didn't understand that they needed to clean the humidifier daily (which was essential as it kept the dysphagia at bay, and helped me with my breathing). As a result, not only did they partially damage the humidifier (due to a lack of cleaning), but my dysphagia got worse. At one point, I actually started to choke on my food, but because of the communication barrier, the weekend PCA did not understand what was happening. And cognitive exercises? Something I need on a daily basis (as I am prone to cognitive down slide) - that just was not happening. In fact, similar to when I was at the nursing home/hospital, the people did not understand neurodivergency, and cognitively I only got worse. But probably one of the most harrowing experiences, was when a friend of mine was over and I decided now was a good time to try a shower with the weekday PCA, who at this point, I did not totally feel safe with. How can I communicate my rules about consent if there was a language barrier between us? How could I feel safe when she would sometimes think it was funny when my speech impediment was in effect (as if it impacted my credibility. It does not.) On top of that, with my processing disorder, where I can not process information in real time, I could not always process what was happening to me and communicate my needs in real time. But it had been weeks since I had a shower, (unlike when I have CDPA, where showers and proper sponge baths happen on a regular basis) and I figured with my friend here, she could help advocate if necessary. And thank god, she was there! There I was in the shower, and the PCA was scrubbing my skin so harshly, that it was physically painful. It was so overwhelming on a sensory level and traumatic! Even my friend, seeing what was happening said “Why are you being so rough with her?!” and told her to be more gentle, but she didn't understand nor stop. I cried so hard when it was done and refused to shower till I was able to transition back to CDPA.

[original artwork that I made at the time. I felt so frustrated and powerless - especially since I knew if I could get back on CDPA, it wouldn’t be like this. original artwork showing an angry face ] But (in my experience) that is traditional services. I can try to request another person, but they sent me three people within a short period of time, and while some were nicer than others, this was pretty much the standard. With CDPA, I am in charge of the hiring process. I can hire someone based on their experience and compatibility. I can ask about what are their views on disability and not hire someone who is condescending and/or rough with me. With CDPA you can even hire a family member or friend, who understands your needs but won’t go bankrupt in the process of caring for you, because they will get paid to do so. With traditional services, I have no say who I get. With traditional services, they don't send you someone based on your needs. They send you a person – anyone who is available to cover that shift. Thankfully, after the people that I hired were fully registered, I was able to transition back to CDPA. I now have two lovely PCAs who have experience with people with processing disorders, who are creative and work with me to do cognitive exercises. And because in NYC, they are paid more than the traditional service PCAs, they are happier and put more effort into their work. As a result, I feel safe again. I can relax again. I can go back to focusing on getting stronger, and doing things that bring me joy, so I can improve my standard of living, so I can lead a full and fulfilling life. In my experience, I would not be able to do that with traditional services, where my energy was put towards just barely getting by.

[a photo of myself laying in my hospital bed with purple sheets. I am wearing a narwhal adult onesie, and reading “Howl” by Allen Ginsberg.] So you might imagine the near panic and heartbreak that I felt when I read that “ Governor Cuomo is looking to end the Consumer Directed Personal Assistance (CDPA) program as we know it today. Worse yet, his attacks on the program go so far as putting the entire fate of the program in the hands of Washington, now going on a month of their shutdown.“ After taking a deep breath, I asked Gregg Beratan from CDRNYS what exactly are the details of this change, and what can the people can do about it: “Long story short: This budget will repeal the law that made CDPA and replace it with a stripped down version that eliminates 9 out of every 10 FIs [fiscal intermediaries] in the state. The ultimate goal is to move to ONE FI for all of New York. So if the agency is one of the 10% that survives initially, they will not be around long." This is a total nightmare. One of the many benefits of CDPA, is that you have the option to shop around and get the best living wage (as different FI’s or fiscal intermediaries offer varying wages) for the people you hire. Having the ability to offer a proper wage, isn’t just a matter of worker solidarity (though that is most definitely part of it.) It is far easier to keep a good worker when they can financially support themselves on the pay they are given. A low wage means more employee turn over and more disgruntled workers, which increases the risk of abuse. Gregg went on to explain that if things move forward as Cuomo plans, and “If your FI opened its doors after January 1, 2012 or is not an independent living center it will be out of business immediately.” The FI that I have chosen fits into this category! Does Cuomo not understand how CDPA works? Does he not care about disabled New Yorkers & the people that work for them? “If the federal government does not approve the new version of this law, there will be no CDPA at all. Even if the program gets through Washington, in an unprecedented move, the new law gives the Commissioner of Health absolute power in determining it's continued existence. The benefit could stop immediately at any time if they do not think the reimbursement they are getting is "adequate." Jesus Christ!

[These attacks on my community is so draining! original artwork showing a sad face] Alright, this is not over yet. We can take action (and please - in the name of decency and solidarity, take action) TAKE ACTION: “First - Call Governor Cuomo at 518-474-8390. Tell him "Consumer directed personal assistance lets me live my life, on my terms, in my community. Your changes would send me to a nursing home. End your attack on seniors and the disabled today! Stop attacking CDPA." (Or if you’re not disabled, tell him "Consumer directed personal assistance lets disabled people live their life, on their terms, in their community. Your changes would send them to a nursing home. End your attack on seniors and the disabled today! Stop attacking CDPA." etc. ) If you are unable to make a phone call, you can use Resist Bot. TXT the word RESIST to 50409 & follow directions. Resist Bot will send the message to your politician(s) of choice. “Second - [if you are able] Get ready for a trip to Albany! February 11 is our Legislative Day in Albany. Meet us at 10:00 in the Well of the Legislative Office Building. Apply for a scholarship and we may be able to help with some or all of your travel. “ Third - Contact your Representatives. YOU elected them. YOU need to make sure they are here to fight for you. They care about your stories and your experiences. That is in fact what will let us win.” So, there it is. Whether you are disabled or not, please take a moment to contact Cuomo and tell him Hands Off The CDPA! Because in these times, no oppressed group (such as the disability community) should be left behind.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

WAD LIAO 77 DRAFT

Keith hadn't let him leave his side all morning, his mate seemingly convinced if he held him close and tight, Lance wouldn't leave with Shiro and Lotor. Lance really didn't love the plan, but it meant getting in and knowing what was really going on with Honerva, he had to swallow down his nerves and get on with it... even if it meant making Keith worry. Given the fact things could go terribly wrong, the two of them had spooned up on the twins playmat, while Laneith conquered rolling onto his stomach. The whispered feeling was that soon both boys would be crawling, even if Keith and especially Lance weren't ready for it... their pups were growing up way too fast for him, and their Galra strength would have them up and walking way too soon after that... he was starting to feel clucky all over again. No. No more pups. Mission first. Mission. Olkarion. Happy times... 

 Swatting away Keith's hand, his mate nuzzled his neck as he tried to draw away

"Keith, I have to go"

"No you don't"

"I'm the only one who can handle the pure quintessence"

"I don't want you getting hurt"

"And I won't. I'll be back as soon as I can be"

"I don't want you being alone with them, especially when you're going to be Lotor's prisoner"

"Keith, I'm practically drowning in your scent... literally, I smell like an alpha. I smell like you. You can't even smell the twins on us, or that Kelance vomited on my uniform"

"That doesn't mean they won't try anything. Promise me if anything goes wrong, you'll put yourself first, and you'll get out"

Turning in Keith's hold, Lance kissed his alpha's cheek, whispering against it 

"I promise. Now, be a good alpha and wait for me, and if you're extra good, I promise I'll make it all worth it"

Tugging on Keith's earlobe with his teeth, Keith growled in response

"You. Me. Me riding your face as you fuck me with your tongue"

Keith's scent went from concern to arousal in less than a tick, moaning as Lance slid his lips down and mouthed his neck

"Shit baby..."

"Now be a good alpha and wait for me to come back"

Keith was bright red as Lance pulled away completely, walking towards Shiro and Lotor 

"That wasn't cool"

"I know! Love you! Make sure the boys don't start crawling without me!"

"If you let him get hurt, I'll hunt you both down"

 Boarding Lotor's ship, Lance let his wrists be cuffed together, with absolutely no give in the chain at all. This was the worst part of the whole plan in his mind. Pretending to be Lotor's prisoner was easy enough as he was more than happy to make his dislike of Lotor known as loud as he could, but the feel of the cuffs and being sat next to Shiro was just... it was awkward and his omega didn't like it all. This wasn't his alpha, and even though their shoulders were touching with two layers of fabric between them, Shiro's touch was still just as uncomfortable and upsetting as it would have been if the fabric wasn't there at all. Closing his eyes, he let out a deep breath through his nose

"Are you alright, Lance?"

"Me? Sure. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because your handcuffed. I can't smell you over Keith"

"That's because Keith insisted on covering me with his scent..."

His mates scent was probably the only reason he wasn't freaking out as externally as he was internally. All he had to do was breathe in and Keith's loving scent filled his senses, and best of all, he couldn't even smell Shiro 

"He loves you"

"Yeah... he was ready to kill you and Lotor though. And he really didn't want me to come along"

"This plan wouldn't have worked without you"

"That's the only reason I'm here. Once we get back to Olkarion, Keith and I are moving off the castle"

"Moving?"

"Most of our stuff will be here still, but we want the pups to be able to run around and feel the real sun. To explore and play"

"Lance, they're still babies"

"They're four and a half phoebes, and just about crawling. The Galra blood means they're big for their age, and much stronger than a premature baby should be"

"They were premature?"

"By 9 movements I think... I don't think they would have made it without the healing pods or their Galra blood"

Why was he telling all this to Shiro? Yes part of him wanted to rub it in, but he knew Shiro's next question before he even asked it

"Do you still think of them?"

"How could I not? I was only able to get through everything because of Keith. He kept me going and never gave up on me... he even loves them, even though they weren't his"

"I'm sorry, for my part in all of this"

"Shiro, it's done and they're gone. I've moved on with my life, and now I have two perfect sons and Keith. I found how to be happy, so you should too"

"Do you think we could have ever been anything more? If I hadn't attacked you"

"I don't know. I always thought you were cool and handsome, and you were dripping with alpha pheromones. You were pretty much the ideal alpha. But Keith... when I ran out of suppressants, I knew he was the one for me. Even though I was a mess, he kept pushing me"

"So probably not"

Lance didn't want to say he was sorry. What had happened in the past was best left there. Forcing himself to relax, he left himself doze as it would be a few vargas before they reached Honerva's base, even with Lotor's high-tec ship.

 Feelings Lotor's ship begin to descend, Lance forced his eyes open as he yawned 

"Lotor must have got the go ahead from mummy dearest"

"Do you have to make your hate for him so obvious?"

"Um, you do know we're his prisoners. We have literally been cuffed, and cuffed people don't usually enjoy it"

"You could at least wait until we reach the base"

"Or I could start now. I'm an omega, I kind of have to smell upset and angry"

"There's upset and angry, and then there's compromising the mission"

"Are you serious right now? No. Don't answer that"

"Lance"

"Serious Shiro, you're the one who's not playing his part"

Shiro sighed and rose to his feet. With one arm, it was kind of hard to cuff him, so he got to walk around free. Totally not fair. Sure he had his Bayard hidden inside his jacket, but he couldn't exactly do much with it

"Just don't over sell it"

"You don't need to tell me. Oh wow. Do you feel that?"

"Feel what?"

"I think we just passed through the shield"

"You can't know that"

"I can. I'm kind of getting a really bad feeling now"

It felt like his stomach had dropped, like when you miss a step and momentarily wonder if this is how you die. Even if Shiro didn't believe him, the sinking feeling was creeping up his spine and its tendrils were worming their way into his brain. Gagging as bile rose in his throat, he scrunched his eyes tightly together

"Lance?"

"I feel sick. Something's wrong here"

"Do you feel sick sick or just sick with fear?"

"Both"

"I'm sure it's just nerves"

Meaning Shiro probably didn't believe he got these strange feelings. It wasn't like he liked being even stranger than he was, but he couldn't deny it was happening

"It's not just nerves..."

 There was a small bump as Lotor's ship set down, and the man in question appeared smiling

"Are we prepared?"

"Lance says he has a bad feeling"

Lotor clicked his tongue, and Lance wished he'd never mentioned it

"It's too late now. Honerva is expecting a present, and that's what you two are. So please try to act accordingly"

Striding over to him Lotor seized him by the arm, yanking him almost savagely to his feet

"Hey! You do know I'm connected to this arm!"

"It's all part of the act"

"Then why does Shiro get to go free?"

"One of you needs to be, in case something goes wrong"

"That's why you're supposed to choose the guy with two arms!"

"Shiro is no threat to me as he is. You on the other hand are a Paladin of Voltron"

"I'm pretty sure you could snap my neck with one hand"

"While that is true, you are much too interesting for that"

"I'll try to keep that in mind when you both need me to save you and my hands are stuck together. Can we get off this ship and into the base? I want to hurry up and see my kids"

"Don't forget Lance. You're his prisoner"

Lotor hummed as he frowned down at him

"He doesn't look roughed up enough to be a prisoner"

"What... wait!"

Lotor didn't wait. The Galra first pushing him down as kneed him in the stomach, and then kneed him in the face, splitting his lip in the protest 

"Are you serious!"

Kneeing him a third time, Lance was sure his brain rattled in his skull as the man's knee met his eye

"Enough!"

Pulling him back up to stand, Lance whimpered as he glared at Lotor 

"Keith is going to be pissed"

"It's for the good of the mission, now walk"

Shoved forward, the trio descended the ship's ramp and into an empty dome. Other than the occasional crackled that seemed to come from well above their heads, the whole complex was empty... and really cold. So cold his breaths came out as small huffy clouds

"Where is she?"

"In the main base, the hallway will lead us there"

"You know. It's not too late to leave. Go home. Forget all this happened"

"Lance, grow up. You're not a child and you can't keep running away"

"It's a joke Shiro. Don't tell me you've forgotten what a sense of humour is"

It wasn't a joke. It wasn't a joke in the slightest. Lotor hadn't helped the sick feeling infecting him, and even standing upright was a struggle. 

 With Lotor's firm grip on the back of his neck, Lance was marched down the corridor leading to the main base. The whole complex was bathed in the blue light of the quintessence, giving it the feeling that you were underwater... or at least that's what Lance told himself. There was more than enough quintessence to blow this quadrant of the Galaxy up, and more than enough to erase all traces that they'd ever stepped foot here

"Let me go!"

"L-Shut up! You will remember your place"

Lotor had nearly called him Lance, but as the centre console of the main base was coming into view, he supposed he should really start putting on a show

"My friends are going to find you and kill you"

"How? They can't even form Voltron without you. You might be useless, but that alone is your one redemptive feature"

"We don't need Voltron to kill you!"

"Your friend here sold you out. Do you really think they'll rescue you?"

Glaring up at Lotor, the man smiled coldly

"Those eyes of yours are like pure quintessence. It makes me want to pluck them out and eat them"

Lance's breath caught. He'd thought Lotor was following his lead, but the man seemed so serious and genuine in his words, that Lance was shaken

"Cease your pathetic show"

Jumping at the unexpectedly ragged voice, Honerva darted from the shadows of one of the other corridors

"Lotor, my son. What is the meaning of this?"

"I have brought you a gift. Not only the champion, but the Red Paladin of Volton"

"Unlike your father, I have no interest in the Paladins of Voltron and I have no interest in mere humans"

"Even if I told you think one, this male an birth children. His physique is like nothing we have encountered"

"If you wish to breed him, take him. Though your seed would be too strong for one like him. I have no use for him. I have no use for any of them"

Lotor smirked, as if he was more than happily mount Lance right there, and as if he'd expected this

"Did I mention he can channel and absorb pure quintessence with no side effects"

Honerva flashed in his vision before he was behind held up by his throat

"He could process pure quintessence"

"He can not only withstand it, he can absorb it into himself"

"I'll never help you"

"I think that in time, you will. Kill the champion"

"Shiro, run!"

Turning on the spot Shiro went to grab Honerva's arm, but Lotor stepped forward, driving the alpha back into the wall. It was all over in the blink of an eye. Shiro was now half slumped on the floor, impaled on Lotor's sword 

"Shiro!"

"Your friend cannot help you now"

Using her free hand, Honerva held it over his forehead, blasting tainted quintessence directly into him. Screaming at the unexpected burn, it seemed like he couldn't process the tainted stuff, and his brain felt like it was boiling. By the time he stopped, he gasping for breath and his whole body was covered in a fine layer of sweat as he shook uncontrollably. Mother-quiznakking-ow

"Yes. I think he will work quite well"

"I will never help you"

Forcing the words out, Lance ground his teeth together. This wasn't how any this was supposed to play out

"I think once you understand, you'll see differently"

Dragged along by his throat, Lance stumbled trying to get his feet under him, but the assault from the tainted quintessence and growing feeling of dread left his legs dangling almost useless. Honerva was just one woman, he should be able to fight one woman...

 Thrown against the central console of the room, the word thrown didn't seem to adequately explain the jarring action, as he fell limply. Looking around, the world was a blurry grey mess, and he could barely tell which way was up 

"Why... are... you... doing... this...?"

"I want my family back"

Out of everything Honerva could have said, he didn't expect that from the knowledge driven woman

"What family? Zarkon's dead! Lotor hates you! Everyone hates you! You ruined everyone life!"

The next blow came from Lotor, as he stomped on Lance's knee

"Silence. Let her speak"

"My son doesn't hate me as much as it seem to believe. When Zarkon died, I found my memories returning. Memories of the days spent in pursuit of knowledge with him by my side"

"Well good for you. Now go join him"

"At Oriande I learnt the truth about quintessence. Every living thing contains quintessence. It's the spark that brings everything into existence, and when one dies, it's released. It exists between the realities, the glue as such keeping everything together. Without quintessence, nothing could exist"

"We already know that. Altean's knew that 10,000 years ago"

He should real shut up. He couldn't breathe as it was. It was that horrible struggle that came before vomiting, and if he kept opening his mouth, he might just do so

"Quintessence is life. Without quintessence, neither I nor Lotor would be alive today"

"Yeah... I'm not seeing a problem with you both dying"

Grinding down on Lance's knee, the omega was determined not to cry out in pain

"I found myself looking back to those days. That's why I had Lotor placed on the throne. Why I called for his return once Zarkon grew ill. My husband was a good man"

"Your husband was a psychopath that killed and tortured people for fun!"

"With the use of quintessence, I've been working on a device that will take me back to that day. That day when it all began"

Honerva was so far over the deep end, Lance doubted a lemming had ever fallen  as far as she had

"At Oriande I learned what I needed to do, and now you're the final piece of the puzzle. You who can absorb and process quintessence will act as the conduit that will allow me to tear time and space apart, so I might return to that day. With you here, my reach is advanced by phoebes"

"Sorry lady. Not interested. If go want to blow yourself up, go ahead"

"Place him on the table"

Lance was like 90 percent sure he wasn't going to like whatever this table was. Lifting him, Lotor carried him over to the table that was hidden by being built into the back of the central console. Dropping him down like a sack of potatoes, the man undid his handcuffs. Did that mean Lotor was on their side? And this was all an act? Or was he actually trying to help his mother? Shivering, he tried to curl in on himself, only to find he really couldn't move. Left alone, both Honerva and Lotor back around the central console so Lance could only see their faces 

"How do I help?"

"Stay out of my way"

"Lotor, she's using you!"

"She's my mother. You have children, you must understand"

"I do understand. I understand that she doesn't love you. Nobody loves you"

"Perhaps you can show me what it's like to be loved..."

"Or you can go jump"

"Silence him. We do not need him conscious for this"

"Very well"

Walking back around the console, Lance traced every moment with his eyes. Reaching out and grabbing his throat, Lotor squeezed, giving him a small nod as he did. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was he supposed to go with it? Or did he like the idea of killing him? Opting for the first thought, he closed his eyes slowly, and moments later Lotor lowered him back down. Now "unconscious" on the table, Lance was forced to listen to Honerva babble on about something to Lotor about doing things differently and being a better mother. He really needed to listen, but his sluggish brain just wasn't processing the words properly.

 Thanks to how long it took for Honerva to work on whatever it was she was working on, Lance was on the verge of passing out when a jolt of blue quintessence forced his eyes open as it passed through him

"Incredible. This is incredible. Quintessence is life, yet it flows right through him"

"Is it his Altean blood?"

"Even Altean alchemists could not accomplish this... no matter. The final stage is now in place"

Placing her hand on the flattest part of the console, quintessence began to flood the pipes along the ceiling. Squinting down the closet tunnel, he could see something filling with it. This had to stop. He'd let Lotor do his thing for long enough, and he might have slightly forgot about Shiro

"Yes. Yes... as the other realities become unstable, more quintessence is drawn into this one. With the great flood of quintessence, I needed a regulator able to process and control the flow, without causing feedback or overheating. All my research to date ended with failed test subjects, but you. You might just work"

Unstable realities didn't sound good... the mental image of a dozen Slav's scared him more than a dozen Zarkon's invading their reality 

"What's happening!"

Scurrying around, Honerva moved to a platform built into the floor that he hadn't even noticed. Then again he hadn't noticed the bed either. Tilting the bed up, she exposed thick tubes filled with more pure quintessence running from the console

"In a few ticks, this reality will cease to exist as you know it"

"Like I'm letting that happen"

"You are powerless to stop it"

Throwing back her hood, Honerva stood proudly, despite the fact she looked like a wrinkled old hag again. The markings on her face now looking more like wounds, and her skin... she could definitely stand to work on her daily routine. Letting her head loll back, she raised her arms as if in worship as quintessence began to swirl around her. This needed to stop and Lotor wasn't going a damn thing. Fighting to control his body, he felt like the quintessence was passing straight through him like he a colander 

"Do something!"

"Perhaps she is right..."

"She's going to kill everyone!"

"If she can go back to that day..."

"She's crazy!"

Arching his back, he felt like pins and needles were raining down on his fingers and toes. So this gift of his had a limit? Quiznak. Fighting harder, he managed to get his up, before it was drawn back down to the table like it was magnetised. Come on. He just needed his Bayard. If he could his Bayard. Biting his lip, he soon abandoned it to scream as he pushed against the force. Little by little, he forced himself to roll, finally falling to land face down on the floor. Shaking, he tried to breathe, despite winding himself in the small fall

"It's too late Red Paladin"

"My name is Lance, and I won't let you do this!"

 Grabbing his Bayard out, he activated it. The pressure of armour helping to contain his injuries enough that he could move his body. Rising to his feet, he gripped his broadsword

"You look just like that accursed man"

"Alfor failed to stop you, but I'm not him!"

"Lotor, cut him down. His purpose has been served"

Rising as the quintessence whirlwind increased, he was fast running out of time. Throwing himself forward, he swung through the quintessence without making a different. Before he could try again, he was thrown across the room by Lotor 

"My son! I've always been so proud of you... I promise to be the mother you deserved"

Pushing himself back up, Lance swung again, trying to cut through anything that might give him an advantage

"Fool!"

As the whirlwind expanded, Lotor was thrown back by it, while Lance moved forward. He had to get to Honerva. He couldn't let her do this... raising his arm to shield his face, he continued until he reached the eye of the storm

"Stop this!"

"Don't you understand! I never wished for the destruction of Daibazaal"

"Yet you killed hundred of civilisations!"

"How is that any different from the Galra you've killed?!"

"The quintessence has corrupted you!"

"Quintessence is life! Like you have life inside of you!"

Blue light shot from Honerva fingertips like lightening as she began to scream. Her skin opening into thick wounds as the quintessence began to over power her. Now he was faced with a dilemma. If she died like this, he wouldn't be to blame. But if she did die, there was a chance the quintessence would become even more unstable and explode. Stowing his Bayard, he took a couple of steps back, before running forward and launching himself at Honerva with all his might. Landing hard on the woman, the slid to the outside of the quintessence, barely millimetres away from it. As she gasped for breath while trying to reach towards it, Lance's hand went straight through her arm. Her body couldn't take it anymore. The years of tainted quintessence abuse had changed her, and now the pure quintessence was breaking her down. Rolling off of her, Lance looked to the control panel. He'd hoped the quintessence would stop if he removed Honerva from the equation, but it hadn't. Drawing his sword back out, he grimaced as he gripped it. Honerva's flesh and blood smearing on the handle as he did. Revolting. This was revolting and he didn't get paid anywhere enough for this. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and swung at the centre console, the reverberations shook his whole body, his armour held him in place as the sword slice through the tech. There was a moment of complete silence before a boom and he was hurled backwards by an explosion. Shit. The whole base was going up! He needed to get out of there! Red! No. They hadn't come on Red! He could even fly Lotor's ship?! And why couldn't hear anything? 

 Coughing as smoke began to fill the place, Lance stumbled forwards, using the wall for support as he did. When a large hand landed on his shoulder, he span around, prepared to cut down the wielded, instead his eyes widened at the sight of Shiro. There wasn't a single drop of blood on him at all. Shaking his shoulders hard, he realised Shiro's lips were moving 

"I can't hear you!"

He couldn't even hear himself, just the same kind of submerged sort of ringing. Shiro's eyes widened, his hand coming up to touch the side of Lance's face, before pulling back and showing him his bloodied finger tips. He must have blown his eardrums in the explosion. Keith was going to be so mad! Grabbing his hand, Shiro began pulling him along, not looking back for Lotor as he did. In front of them a large section of roofing collapsed, bringing Lance up short as he tried to backtrack and stop in time. Grabbing his Bayard, Shiro swing down, cutting through the wreckage. That worked. They were about to continue when Lance felt something grab his leg. Looking down, Shiro released him, leaving him nearly collapsing on the spot as the alpha pulled Lotor up. Lotor looked the maddest Lance had ever scene him. His eyes so cold that Lance swallowed despite having a mouthful of smoke and dust. Shoving Lotor ahead of them, Shiro took his hand again, pulling him towards the ship.

 Only they didn't make it to the ship. Barely ticks before they did, Lotor's ship blew, with large chunks of molten metal were sent flying in every direction. Even if the team noticed, there was no way the could get there in time. He wondered why he thought that as both Lotor and Shiro threw themselves back, and pulled him down to the floor with them. Above him the sky turned red and yellow, and a real sense of fear filled him. He didn't belong here. He should be home with Keith. With Keith and their sons. Trying to push both men off of him, his eyes widened at the hunk of metal imbedded in Shiro's should. Lotor didn't seem hurt, his hair was half singed off, but other than that and the fact he was unconscious... he was fine. Feeling for his wrist communicator, he cursed himself for having left it home. Part of the whole "prisoners wouldn't have communicators" thing. Screaming out mentally for Red, he pushed both men off his legs and slid free. Shiro didn't have a helmet, and neither did Lotor... he had his, but how long would the shield around them last? Once it cracked, that black goop would flood in. Looking back down the hall, he found the whole corridor collapsed and that there was definitely no way he they were going back that way. Forward was just as bad, but they couldn't stay where they were. Trying to find a way to stand, the whole planet beneath him seemed to shake, making it basically impossible to find his feet. There came another two larger shakes, before the wall to his left disappeared... and Red stuck her head in. Momentarily struck dump, he reached out for her, knowing he couldn't make it. Keeping her eyes on him, Red leant down, opening her mouth around the three of them before snapping her jaw shut. With everything black around him, he wondered if he'd died, before realising his eyes were closed

"Red! We need to get out of here!"

He didn't know if she heard him, but he was practically screaming it in his mind. Crawling across the floor, he pulled himself into his chair, before slumping over. He was such a mess. His pants were soaked in blood. His uniform was torn to shreds and he felt as if every bit of dust and debris was coating his skin. With shaking hands he took Red's controls, even though he knew he couldn't pilot her

"Red, you're going to have to help me girl. We need to get home"

Feeling her in his numb brain, he left her do her thing, knowing she'd get them home, no matter what happened to him, or Lotor and Shiro. He just had to stay awake. 

 Reaching the castle, Lance had fought the whole way to stay awake. Even if his nausea had turned to vomiting, and his head felt like it had been cleaved in two. Upon Landing, Red immediately opened her mouth, causing Shiro and Lotor to tumble down her ramp. Mentally thanking her, Lance didn't even try to move. If he did, he either throw up again, or pass out... or even worse, throw up and then pass out in it. Staying where he was, was the best option.

 Keith was the first to appear, Allura right behind. His mates eyes widened as he rushed over to him, taking his face in his hands

"I can't hear!"

Keith cringed and Lance figured he must have yelled it. Tilting his head first left then right, his mate looked positively murderous as his lips moved, probably saying something to Allura. Lifting him from his seat, Lance's eyes finally started to close, but a sharp slap from Keith had them wide open in a moment 

"Don't close your eyes"

That's what he assumed Keith was mouthing, though it could have been anything.

  *

When Red had left the castle on her own, Keith knew something had to be horribly wrong. He'd gone to her Hangar to feel closer to Lance, but when he got there, she'd already left. After running back up to the bridge, he'd yelled at Coran to track down Red, only to find she was already on her way back. Confused by what had happened, they'd all rushed back down to her hangar. When Lotor and Shiro had fallen down her ramp, Keith swore his heart stopped. He'd told them this was stupid plan, yet they'd gone ahead and gone anyway... and now... leaving Hunk organising immediately treatment for the pair, Keith had run up Red's ramp, only to for his heart to skip a beat again. By the thick smell of smoke, and burnt flesh, they're had been some kind of explosion, but what had him more concerned was the glassy look in Lance's bloodshot eyes. The left one in particular as there was no white at all

"I can't hear!"

Cringing at his mates yell, Keith moved to take Lance's face in his hands, tilting his head to as he looked for signs of fresh blood from his mates ears. There didn't seem to be any. That was a start

"Allura, I think he might be bleeding into his skull. We need to get him into a pod"

"Hunk and Coran are helping Lotor and Shiro down there"

He didn't care about them. Not when Lance was like this. Lifting Lance into his arms, his mate sighed 

"I want both Shiro and Lotor kept asleep until after Lance has told us what happened"

"Keith?"

"I never liked this mission, and if something happened, I want to make sure I hear the truth from Lance first"

Looking down, Lance's eyes were beginning to slide closed. No. Not good. Slapping his mate slightly harder than intended, Lance's eyes shot back open

"Don't close your eyes baby"

His mate seemed to understand.

 Careful not to jostle Lance too much as he rushed him up to the pod room, Keith had more than enough time to grow angrier and angrier. He'd told Lance he didn't want him going, yet he still had. He'd told Lotor and Shiro he'd kill them if they let Lance get hurt, but sure enough, his mate was hurt. This all better not have been for nothing. If Lance woke up and told him Honerva was still out there doing whatever she was doing, he was going to take Black and personally destroy her base.

 Lotor and Shiro were both in pods by the time he arrived with Lance. Carrying his mate to the closest pod, he rested Lance inside before kissing his bloodied lips. Despite being somewhat broken and beaten, Lance still managed a smile for him. God. How could Lance smile when he looked like he'd been to hell and back 

"Keith, did he say anything?"

"He couldn't hear. He was bleeding from both ears and popped blood vessels in both eyes. I think he was also burnt in whatever happened"

"What did happen? We pulled a piece of metal from Shiro's back, and it looked like it was from Lotor's ship"

"I have no idea. Red took off on her own, and there was clearly some kind of explosion. But until Lance wakes, we'll be in the dark"

"Shiro will probably wake before Lance. His wouldn't were pretty superficial. He had burns across his back, and that piece of metal..."

"Shiro and Lotor are to remain in their pods until we've had a chance to ask Lance what happened"

"Keith, are you sure? They were there"

"Yeah. Funny that. They were there, yet once again, Lance ends up like this"

"If there was an explosion, then maybe there was nothing they could"

"Or maybe they let it happen. Honerva's been holed up for phoebes and now this? I knew sending him in was a bad idea"

"Lance wanted to do this. He knew the risks"

"It doesn't matter!"

"You were prepared to do practically the same thing!"

"I wad going to go on my own, unlike him..."

"Unlike him what? You don't matter? You're just a pilot? What is it Keith? You're happy to leave your children without a father?"

"It's better than leaving them without their mother! Lance has always, always been a better person than I am!"

"And you don't think he'd be crushed if something happened to you? He wants this all to be over, that's why he went. Now go clean up. We'll all keep watch until you return"

"He's my omega!"

"Who's going to freak when he sees you covered in blood"

"That's all the more reason to stay!"

"We'll be right here. Go shower and come back, use the time to cool down"

"I am not reversing my decision over Shiro and Lotor"

 Not wanting to spend too long away from Lance, Keith showered quickly and headed into the nursery to let his mum know what was going on. Pursing her lips and sighing, Keith wasn't sure how to take her response. Perhaps she was tired of watching the boys? Or maybe of Lance being hurt? If they were was an explosion, he probably couldn't have stopped it.

[dwtsfun]

Let’s Talk About It- Race, Colorism and Antiblackness on DWTS Part 2

I apologize for this being up later than I had initially planned to have it up. I had a lot going on. But I’m back. And I’m here and ready to drag. Anyway, I spoke about season 24 and Simone, specifically, in the last installment of this series. For this post, I will be focusing more on the pros and mostly Keo. There are a few things that I see regarding Britt and Brandon, but they haven’t been around long or featured enough for me to get a read on how they’re seen and treated on this show (which is sort of a problem in and of itself). 

Keo

So as we all know, DWTS has been on the air since 2005. From 2005 until 2014, there had never been a Black person as a teaching pro on the show. Even though there are tons of Black ballroom and Latin dancers all over the globe, the show never decided to give one a shot until season 19, nine years into the show’s existence. Season 19 was when we were all introduced to South African dancer, Keoikantse Motsepe. I was excited because Black people were finally getting some representation on this show. Finally after 9 years of never having a professional dancer on that looked like me. But I also knew that his inclusion was going to bring out a lot of ignorance. And it did. There wasn’t as much that happened immediately, since he and Lolo were the first couple out that season (thanks largely to her cringey interactions with the judges and Erin after a terrible dance). But there were still things that week and things that happened over time that I started see.

After Lolo’s first dance the first thing that Carrie Ann did, was screw up Keo’s name. I don’t think any other pro has had their name screwed up when they were being welcomed. And it wasn’t even his full name that she was saying. She was just saying “Keo”. That’s not any harder to pronounce than Maks, Tony, Val, Derek, Mark, etc. They were eliminated the next day, so the issues that could have followed this couple (because not only was he the first Black pro, but they were also the first Black couple on the show) died immediately. Then trio week came up. Val decided to choose Keo to help out with Janel’s salsa. If you’ve been following me for a while, you know how angry I was when this happened. Now that I’m older, more mature and I understand these things better, I can better articulate why I was so mad. So I’ll set up the scene first. It was a tribal theme which was my first red flag. But no big deal, right? We’ve seen that type of number before. And while they are problematic, it’s never been too bad. That was until Janel dubbed herself the ‘Queen of Color’ with this sort of “You see what I did there? You see? Because Keo is Black and I’m Asian. But mostly because Keo is Black. Haha. Bet you didn’t get that,” look on her face. You can’t tell me it was about the colors in the dance because there was only red and blue chalk at the very beginning and the lighting had a subtle purple to it. So that doesn’t work on me. And she would have never said that comment, had Keo not been in the number. So then we get to the dance. The costuming was pretty problematic. There were other issues with the choreography itself, more specifically the stuff at the beginning without Janel. Once the dance ended, the ignorance and stupidity kept on coming with Bruno making comments about having jungle fever. If you didn’t know, jungle fever is essentially a non-Black person, being attracted to a Black person. It relies on the idea that Black people are from the jungle. In this sense, Black people are considered savages, uncivilized and less than human. There’s more to unpack with this dance and his comments, especially if you want to get into the Josephine Baker comment that he threw out there. But again, that would turn this into a dissertation and I’m not doing this for a degree and I’m not getting paid for it.

Let’s move on to season 22. Keo was paired with Jodie Sweetin. This was the first season that he had a true contender on paper. I had my reservations because up to this point, Keo hadn’t really proved that he was a great pro. He wasn’t terrible and always took great care of his partners. But teaching and choreographing for him hadn’t been very good. Others felt the same too and took it as far as to say that he didn’t deserve her. That was understandable at first until they came out and Keo started to really grow and deliver with Jodie. It was very apparent that he was doing a really good job. But everyone was holding him to a much higher standard than pros like Val, who was coasting that season with Ginger, or Sasha, who was playing things very safe with Kim Fields. There were even articles being written, that were asking if Keo was failing Jodie. I have never seen any other pro get negative press like that for “failing his celeb.” He wasn’t failing her. In fact, there is only one other pro that I think would have been able to do a better job than Keo that season. And that is Derek. Jodie may have been a good dancer, but she had a lot of issues with keeping her nerves under control. You could tell that Jodie was also very fragile and had just fixed a lot of the things that she had been going through, throughout her life. As Courtney said over on Pure, she was Mischa Barton, had Mischa done the show 5 years after she was fully recovered. You’ve had Maks handle his partners very rough and had many of the other men pretty much verbally abuse some of their partners. Some of these women have been reduced to tears. Bloggers rarely, if ever wrote about it. In fact, I only remember them reporting on the Maks and Hope problem during season 13. But Jodie doesn’t do as well as people expected her to, so now Keo is blamed and is not doing his job. That reeks of antiblackness. The man did right by Jodie as far as I’m concerned.

We’re still going to be looking at season 22, but for this paragraph, we’ll be looking at switch up night.  Now as most of you all know, I loathe switch up week. The energy surrounding it is always just bad. The pros and the celebs dread it, the judges are meaner than usual and the fans are absolutely terrible. Blogging during those weeks was the absolute worst. So I can only imagine the way that the pros and celebs felt. Anyway, Keo and Kim were put together. Their personalities meshed well, but there was a HUGE height difference between them. With only like 5 days to get to know your new partner, establish some sort of connection and get a routine together that fits them, there’s only so much that you can do. So Keo elected to spend most of the dance doing open work. That was a smart idea considering the circumstances and the fact that Keo is over a foot taller than Kim. However, the judges came down super hard on him and really made a huge deal out of it and acted like it was terrible. It was so bad and hard to watch them get verbally abused like that. The dance wasn’t bad at all and actually was pretty good. But from the way Maks went in on them, you’d think that they just sat down in the middle of the floor and played patty cake the whole time. I think his treatment was probably worse than the way the judges tend to rip Witney apart on switchup week. And they’re awful with her. What’s the difference between Keo and the other pros? Season 22 was a ton of antiblackness and racism aimed directly at Keo, and it was disgusting to watch play out. It didn’t help that after a 6th place finish, the show decided to bench him and brought back Gleb and Maks for season 23. And neither one of them even had a smidgen of the success with their partners that season that Keo had with Jodie. That right that just shows you that Black people have to do twice as much just to even get half of what white people get. He did and went through all of that in season 22, just to be benched for season 23.

Brandon, Britt and Keo

Now that I’ve spoken about Keo, I’ll also just say a little about Brandon and Britt. These two have been featured very little in comparison to the other members of the troupe. I think Britt has fared slightly better than Brandon in this regard. The show seems to have invested a little more into her. I think they might be gearing up to promote her within the next couple of seasons just based on the fact that they put her in one of the trio numbers this season. Hopefully they do right by her. I doubt they will though. And to be honest, I think the only reason we saw Brandon featured as much as we did, is because he and Rashad hit it off. In fact, I’m glad that Rashad was on this season. I don’t think Keo and Brandon would have been featured as much if it weren’t for the fact that he befriended them. And Emma being smart, decided to use them in a few of their dances like Brandon in the quickstep and freestyle and Brandon and Keo (and the other guy) in the tango.

And that completes the second installment of Let’s Talk About It- Race, Antiblackness and Colorism in DWTS. The next part will hopefully be up by this weekend. I think I’m going to cover a lot of the issues that Black men face on the show. I’ll talk about Black women in the 4th installment. In the meantime, let me know your thoughts about this one and I will talk to you all soon.

[noelmu]

WEEK IN REVIEW 9/17/17-9/23/17

Last week I posted a picture of the donuts I ate on my first morning at this year’s Toronto International Film Festival. This week I’ll post my last TIFF breakfast: a Nutella croissant and an Americano at a terrific Italian espresso bar. Consider this the illustration for my second The Week TIFF report, linked to below.

I fear I indulged a bit too much in Toronto this year, which wouldn’t be that big of a deal, except that I’m in the middle of what I count is the fourth-and-a-half-th big weight-loss push I’ve attempted in my life. The numbers below are based largely and memory and may not be accurate, but here’s a rough tally:

1. About halfway through my college years, my metabolism pretty much conked out on me, and I found that all the pizzas, wings, and cookies I was eating on a near-daily basis were heading straight to my waistline. By the time I graduated in 1992, I’d ballooned up to around 230. During the summer that followed, one day I stepped on a coin-operated scale in the mall where I worked at the time, and after I typed in all my data, the scale suggested a daily allowance of calories (and, more importantly, calories from fat) that I could consume to lose weight in a reasonable way. I followed that plan diligently, even after I moved back in with my parents in Nashville, and in about six months got down to around 190. After losing all that weight I took a trip back to Athens, and just happened to run into Donna, who at the time was really more a casual acquaintance than a friend. She later told me that she was impressed with how good I looked after my diet, which is why she asked me to lunch that day. The rest as they say is history.

2. By 1993, Donna was in Virginia working on her doctorate, and thanks to working in restaurants and having lots of pocket-money, I was over-eating again. By the time I moved up to Virginia in 1995, I’d started getting heavy, and when we got married in 1996, I weighed as much as I ever have: around 235. Not long after that, I started having some health problems, suffering bouts of vertigo and persistent reflux. Taking advantage of the health plan at the corporate job I was working at the time, I started getting regular checkups, and under doctor’s orders started developing an exercise plan built around taking long walks, multiple times a day. We moved from Virginia to Arkansas in 1999, and when I carried Donna across the threshold of our new house, I was back down to around 190. I kept losing weight over the next two years, getting down below 180 around the time Archer was born in 2001.

3. After Cady Gray was born in 2004, my weight started creeping up again. In 2010, when I turned 40, I promised Donna I’d get back to going to the doctor regularly. When I stepped on the scale for the first time in a long while in February of 2011, I weighed 225. More alarmingly, my blood-work showed that I was pre-diabetic. I started logging my calories, and got back to taking walks; but the most important choice I made back then was to try the high-protein/low-carb “primal” diet. I want to make clear that I don’t really recommend anyone else go paleo/primal, because I don’t think it’s sustainable long-term. (At least it wasn't for me.) But I can’t deny that I leaned-out fast. My the end of 2011, I was down to about 185. The next year, I dipped below 180 again, and looked crazy-thin. I actually have a sort of “before and after” pic, from two different A.V. Club videos I participated in, in the consecutive Decembers of 2010 and 2011:

3.5. I started slacking on the primal diet by the end of 2012, and even with a FitBit monitoring my steps, I started walking less and snacking more -- both choices exacerbated by some stressful transitions in my professional life. The gain this time was slow, but steady, such that I was pushing 200 again in the fall of 2014... right before I lost my job. Choosing to turn a crisis into an opportunity, I recommitted to diet and exercise, and got back down into the mid-190s for a while. But then I started getting a lot more freelance assignments, I walked a lot less, and I missed one of my yearly doctor appointments. I stopped stepping on the scale after I noticed I was over 200 again, and I stopped logging my food. The recommit was short-lived.

4.5. So here we are now. Earlier this year I went back to the doctor, and was pleased to see that I wasn’t as heavy as I was afraid I was. I weighed in at 215, and my blood-work was fine. At the start of the summer, I replaced my FitBit with an Apple Watch and started counting calories again. My goal was to get below 200 before TIFF. On the Sunday before I left, I was at 200 exactly.

I only weigh myself weekly, and I chose not to step on the scale last week. Tomorrow will be a big day then. I’m hoping I’ll be hovering around or even below 200. If not, I’ll have to try harder. After all, I’ve done it before.

The A.V. Club Movie Review: Thirst Street puts a smart stalker spin on  ’70s-style European erotica

The Los Angeles Times Movie Review: The Houses October Built 2 revisits effective mix of found-footage horror and haunted houses Movie Review: Thriller Happy Hunting has a bloody good time taking aim at societal hypocrisy

Vulture TV Review: The Good Place Season 2 Premiere: Starting Over (And Over)

The Week The Toronto film festival concludes with raw truths and unexpected beauties

[shopggdb-blog]

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[deannadavis]

Lip injections have become such a huge trend ever since the famous Kylie Jenner Lips. I’ve started noticing more and more people getting lip fillers and I’m not just talking about celebs. I’ve always loved the look of big plump lips and even years ago when I first started doing my makeup I remember over lining my lips ALL the time. I had a whole strategy to it! I started doing this because my upper lip was so small you could barely see it in some pictures.

With that being said, I was so excited when Sean Azari (Social media expert) reached out to me to connect me with one of his amazing clients, Dr. Bijan Safai. Dr.Safai is a professional dermatologist in Midtown, New York with years of experience and a strong passion for dermatology. Along with lip fillers, he does all kinds of dermatology procedures from skin cancer operations to botox and even hair transplants. You can check out all his work at drbijansafai.com.

Having seen a lot of bad lip filler procedures on some Instagram models and online articles, I was skeptical about getting it done and I knew I had to go to a really good dermatologist. After doing a little research on Dr.Safai I saw he has a lot of amazing credentials in the medical field such as hundreds of published articles, his doctorate, great reviews and many awards. So I finally agreed and set the appointment to get juvederm lip fillers. I had the option to choose between juvederm, restylane, collagen or fat transfer. I chose juvederm because based of my personal research, it proved to offer the most natural results and has the best texture (Not too hard not too soft).

I scheduled my appointment for the following week and the day had finally come. I was a bit nervous because if you know me, you know one of my biggest fears is needles! Literally. I used to cry when I had to get blood taken and even the thought of needles make me want to cringe. I tried to prep myself by watching some lip injection videos on Instagram which might have helped a little bit but I still had to suck up a lot fear and just say f*ck it.

So I walked into Dr.Safai’s office on 625 Park Ave and was pleased to be greeted by his friendly receptionists and Sean. I filled out a few papers and was brought to the room right away. Dr. Bijan was so sweet! I told him generally what I wanted to do with my lips – to plump up my upper lip and reduce the look of my nasolabial folds (smile lines). He explained everything that was in the juvederm injection and exactly where he was going to inject the filler to achieve my desired look. Dr. Safai even told me beforehand that if I don’t like it or I think its too much I can always come back and get rid of the lip fillers with a substance that dissolves them. Juvederm typically lasts up to 6-8 months. He showed us the juvederm serum that came already  filled up inside the 2 syringes which were sealed and prepackaged.  Dr. Safai opened it in front of us and told me he would use one full syringe to inject into my upper lip along with my smile lines. Inside the juvederm filler is Hyaluronic acid, which is a natural sugar (polysaccharide) that is already found in our skin. This binds the moisture in your skin to give it volume and plumpness. The fillers already have a numbing substance inside so no numbing cream was needed during the process.

He started the injections and the first two pinched a bit but then went numb through the remainder of the injections. It felt so weird at first being that this was my first time getting any type of work done on my body. I felt no pain since it was numb but I did feel the texture of the serum going into my lips as he would pull out the needle. The results were immediate, and by the time he finished up my upper lip was finally plump and I was given ice to reduce the swelling after. He was so kind and after chatting a bit he told me to come back again in a week for a second visit. He offered I get a micro needling treatment to reduce bumps on my skin and even out my skin tone; which I followed through on and will be doing another review on that soon!! The first few days would be rough because he told me my lip would be very swollen and possibly bruise a little.

…And he was right. After the second day of having my lips injected I started to freak out!!

The next day I woke up my lips looked slightly bigger and clearly even more swollen. I got a small bruise on one side of my top lip that lasted a few days. My lips felt sore the following days so I kept an ice pack on for a few minutes here and there.

So typically when you get injections, it is lumpy after the next few days while the juvederm softens out to fit your lips. I could feel the lumps especially on the inside of my lips and Dr. Safai told me this is normal during the first week of getting them. I was told to massage my lips occasionally if I felt any big bumps to help them disperse faster and kind of mold it to prevent unevenness. But obviously anyone would be concerned if they can’t see how its really going to look (without all the swelling and everything) right away.

I knew I had nothing to worry about because honestly, he was an amazing doctor and seemed very confident after my procedure. But after thinking it through I knew it was going to look way better after all the side affects. Plus I was going back to see him in a week, if I don’t like it I can just get it taken out, no big deal! The lumps eventually went away like he said and the soreness died out.

Days passed and the swelling was completely gone! I was feeling amazing and looking even more amazing! I went back the next week for my micro needling and a lip touch up. The left side of my lip was just slightly smaller so he evened it out and applied a bit more in the center of my lip for extra volume. They were PERFECT! I saw no bruising after the second visit and they were only swollen for about 2 more days.

Since then, I have fallen in loveee with my lips! My friends were amazed at how natural they look now. I’ve gotten some mixed reviews on social media from people who tell me I looked great naturally and people who are now in love with my look. Honestly, everyone will have their own opinion and I don’t see any problem with getting cosmetic injections, surgery, etc. Our real beauty will always be on the inside and I don’t think there is anything wrong with improving our physical looks as well. As long as its not harming your health in any way I am all for it! The way I see it, we should all be in love with our natural appearance, flaws and all. If it makes your happier or more confident to fix a certain flaw(s) of yours then go for it! F*ck what anyone else has to say about it because only you know whats best for yourself. Cosmetic procedures can bring so much positivity. But always remember to love yourself no matter what because we are all beautiful.

  Day 3

Day 4

Day 5 – After my second visit *Face is red due to micro needling*

Day 6

Day 9

Lip Injections! What you should know before getting them Lip injections have become such a huge trend ever since the famous Kylie Jenner Lips. I've started noticing more and more people getting lip fillers and I'm not just talking about celebs.

[thecollegefootballguy]

Bizarro Football: An Alternative History of the Big Ten in 2017

Our journey through the Bizarro Big Ten brings us to the present day, or at least the most recent season. In this alternate reality, the Big Ten never expanded past 11 members and kept their 8-game rotating conference schedule. I have covered all post-realignment seasons so if you want to check those out first before reading these here are the links: 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016.

The Big Ten might have been the best conference in the country in 2017, it was either the B1G or the SEC certainly. According most computer rankings, both conferences had three top-ten teams, and if the esteemed Sagarin rankings are to be believed both leagues had two top four teams in terms of real on-field strength, though I’m not sure I’d go that far with Clemson and Oklahoma turning in such impressive regular seasons as well. Without further ado, let’s see how I think things would have played out based on real life events and some good guesswork.

Big Ten Standings

Penn State 11-1 (7-1) Wisconsin 11-1 (7-1) Michigan State 9-3 (6-2) Ohio State 9-3 (6-2) Iowa 9-3 (5-3) Northwestern 7-5 (4-4) Purdue 7-5 (4-4) Michigan 7-5 (3-5) Minnesota 5-7 (1-7) Indiana 4-7 (1-7) Illinois 3-9 (0-8)

Ohio State and Penn State were the best teams in the Big Ten in 2017, with Wisconsin not too far behind. All three were solid top ten squads and the first two may have been of top five caliber. As the Big Ten did not and does not play a round robin schedule, the luck of which opponent gets drawn plays a much bigger factor in who wins the conference. The Buckeyes, the best team in the league and the IRL champions, had a tough row to hoe. OSU didn’t do themselves any favors by losing at home to Oklahoma in non-conference play. That loss made it necessary for the Buckeyes to go unbeaten in Big Ten play. They didn’t. Ohio State made it until November without a conference loss, but in Bizarro 2017 they had to travel to Happy Valley instead of hosting Penn State and I’m thinking they lose that game. The next week, they played host to Iowa. I think shifting the venue to Columbus alters the nature of that game, but it was a freak of nature. I can’t just say that OSU erases all of that THIRTY FOUR POINT BLOWOUT. The loss stands. Iowa was a legitimately good team any way.

For their part, Penn State drew a comparatively easy slate, and were able to go a perfect 11-0 before falling to Michigan State at the end of the year just like they did in real life. Wisconsin didn’t play the Nittany Lions, but they did have to play at Ohio State, who handed the Badgers their only loss on the season.

The upper-middle tier of the Big Ten was very solid. Michigan State rebounded from their dreadful 2016 season to tie the Buckeyes for third place in the standings. The Spartans lost at Wisconsin and at Purdue as well as to Notre Dame but beat Michigan and Penn State which I’m sure would have tempered any bitter feelings. 

Iowa had nine wins! The Hawkeyes lost the most obvious games on their schedule (at Penn State, at Wisconsin, at Michigan State) but made up for it against other big names, beating Michigan at home and Ohio State on the road along with all other comers for a reasonably impressive season.

Tough schedules hammered good Northwestern and Michigan teams. Both squads had to deal with amazingly unfortunate home-road splits. The Wildcats fell on the road to Michigan State and Iowa while losing to Penn State and Wisconsin at home. The Wolverines had it the worst. Michigan lost to Michigan State and Ohio State, as is custom, as well as to surging PSU, but they also lost in Iowa City and Madison. This dropped a top 30-ish team to 7-5. I can’t imagine even Jim Harbaugh’s enthusiasm could’ve absorbed all that without looking bad.

Purdue was the league’s success story. In just his first season, Jeff Brohm turned the Boilermakers from the sad-sack of the conference into a bowl team. The schedule helped a great deal, minimizing bad losses and avoiding some of the best teams in the league. Hey whatever, it’s their first above .500 season since 2012.

The Big Ten’s cellar is inhabited by Minnesota, Indiana, and Illinois. All is not equal among these teams, however. The Gophers and Hoosiers are at best mediocre, and were dragged down by rough schedules, and in Indiana’s case a cancelled game. The Illini were just atrocious and no easy schedule was going to help them, not that they had one in particular. Illinois spent 2017 getting their teeth kicked in by the rest of the conference.

The Playoff picture would have been very cloudy with 11-1 Penn State and Wisconsin. I really am not sure how it would have gone down. Let’s assume that 12-1 Georgia and 12-1 Clemson make it as the champions of their conferences. Also, based on the outcome of the Bizarro Big 12 in 2017, we have 13-0 Oklahoma. The Sooners definitely make the Playoff as the #1 seed. Assuming all other outcomes stay the same, the other candidate outside of the Big Ten is 11-1 Alabama. What a predicament we have for ourselves here. And remember, both Bama and Penn State were unbeaten in this scenario until the last week of the regular season when the Tide lost to Auburn and PSU fell to Michigan State.

I think it’s safe to assume that for the Big Ten teams it becomes a 1A and 1B situation regarding Penn State and Wisconsin. Without a head-to-head game between the two there would have been a case for the Badgers, but performance-wise most people would side with PSU. Wisconsin was winning in their usual fashion but Penn State was just annihilating most teams they played, including the Ohio State team that beat the Badgers. Plus, I just have to imagine more of the media would cape for Penn State over Wisconsin. That’s just what happens.

So, with the Badgers more or less marginalized from the conversation, the real debate begins. Alabama played like the best team in the country for most of the year, that’s what the eyeball test tells us and the computers back it up. They got beat up along the way and dropped their final game to a motivated rival, it happens. Penn State wasn’t the best team in the country, they weren’t even the best team in the Big Ten, Ohio State was, but in this scenario they beat the Buckeyes and many other teams. The Auburn team that beat Alabama was certainly better than the Michigan State squad that beat Penn State, but the Nittany Lions actually played a better schedule. If you thought that the calls for Ohio State to get in IRL in 2017 over Alabama were loud this would have surely eclipsed them. In the regular season, the Tide played only three teams that are in the top 30 in both Sagarin and Massey: Auburn, Mississippi State, and LSU and they went 2-1. PSU played Ohio State, Iowa, Northwestern, Michigan, and Michigan State and went 4-1, beating the best of those teams. 

I didn’t think I would do it, but I’m actually talking myself into thinking that Penn State gets picked over Alabama here. I think that there’s still a good chance that the Big Ten gets One True Champion’d again like they did in Bizarro 2014. Alabama was a better team than Penn State, better than everyone really. However, Penn State just simply had a better resume based on just schedule, and I think it gets boosted that the Committee probably wants to avoid putting 2 SEC teams in the Playoff unless absolutely necessary. Then again, maybe the Committee would find the integrity necessary to choose the real best team in this situation, but I’m unconvinced.

So let’s say what the hell, the 2017 Playoff is #1 Oklahoma vs #4 Penn State and #2 Georgia vs #3 Clemson. And, with some of the best teams in the country not participating, including the real national champion, there’s a chance any of these teams win, including Penn State.

Without a doubt Wisconsin gets a bid to a New Year’s Bowl, more of a consolation prize than anything. I’m not convinced that either 9-3 Ohio State or 9-3 Michigan State would have gotten a bid, though the Buckeyes at least would have deserved it. Maybe a Fiesta Bowl against Alabama or something fun like that.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

WAD LIAO - DING DONG THE BITCH IS DEAD

Keith hadn't let him leave his side all morning, his mate seemingly convinced if he held him close and tight, Lance wouldn't leave with Shiro and Lotor. Lance really didn't love the plan, but it meant getting in and knowing what was really going on with Honerva, he had to swallow down his nerves and get on with it... even if it meant making Keith worry. Given the fact things could go terribly wrong, the two of them had spooned up on the twins playmat, while Laneith conquered rolling onto his stomach. The whispered feeling was that soon both boys would be crawling, even if Keith and especially Lance weren't ready for it... their pups were growing up way too fast for him, and their Galra strength would have them up and walking way too soon after that... he was starting to feel clucky all over again. No. No more pups. Mission first. Mission. Olkarion. Happy times... 

 Swatting away Keith's hand, his mate nuzzled his neck as he tried to draw away

"Keith, I have to go"

"No you don't"

"I'm the only one who can handle the pure quintessence"

"I don't want you getting hurt"

"And I won't. I'll be back as soon as I can be"

"I don't want you being alone with them, especially when you're going to be Lotor's prisoner"

"Keith, I'm practically drowning in your scent... literally, I smell like an alpha. I smell like you. You can't even smell the twins on us, or that Kelance vomited on my uniform"

"That doesn't mean they won't try anything. Promise me if anything goes wrong, you'll put yourself first, and you'll get out"

Turning in Keith's hold, Lance kissed his alpha's cheek, whispering against it 

"I promise. Now, be a good alpha and wait for me, and if you're extra good, I promise I'll make it all worth it"

Tugging on Keith's earlobe with his teeth, Keith growled in response

"You. Me. Me riding your face as you fuck me with your tongue"

Keith's scent went from concern to arousal in less than a tick, moaning as Lance slid his lips down and mouthed his neck

"Shit baby..."

"Now be a good alpha and wait for me to come back"

Keith was bright red as Lance pulled away completely, walking towards Shiro and Lotor 

"That wasn't cool"

"I know! Love you! Make sure the boys don't start crawling without me!"

"If you let him get hurt, I'll hunt you both down"

 Boarding Lotor's ship, Lance let his wrists be cuffed together, with absolutely no give in the chain at all. This was the worst part of the whole plan in his mind. Pretending to be Lotor's prisoner was easy enough as he was more than happy to make his dislike of Lotor known as loud as he could, but the feel of the cuffs and being sat next to Shiro was just... it was awkward and his omega didn't like it all. This wasn't his alpha, and even though their shoulders were touching with two layers of fabric between them, Shiro's touch was still just as uncomfortable and upsetting as it would have been if the fabric wasn't there at all. Closing his eyes, he let out a deep breath through his nose

"Are you alright, Lance?"

"Me? Sure. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because your handcuffed. I can't smell you over Keith"

"That's because Keith insisted on covering me with his scent..."

His mates scent was probably the only reason he wasn't freaking out as externally as he was internally. All he had to do was breathe in and Keith's loving scent filled his senses, and best of all, he couldn't even smell Shiro 

"He loves you"

"Yeah... he was ready to kill you and Lotor though. And he really didn't want me to come along"

"This plan wouldn't have worked without you"

"That's the only reason I'm here. Once we get back to Olkarion, Keith and I are moving off the castle"

"Moving?"

"Most of our stuff will be here still, but we want the pups to be able to run around and feel the real sun. To explore and play"

"Lance, they're still babies"

"They're four and a half phoebes, and just about crawling. The Galra blood means they're big for their age, and much stronger than a premature baby should be"

"They were premature?"

"By 9 movements I think... I don't think they would have made it without the healing pods or their Galra blood"

Why was he telling all this to Shiro? Yes part of him wanted to rub it in, but he knew Shiro's next question before he even asked it

"Do you still think of them?"

"How could I not? I was only able to get through everything because of Keith. He kept me going and never gave up on me... he even loves them, even though they weren't his"

"I'm sorry, for my part in all of this"

"Shiro, it's done and they're gone. I've moved on with my life, and now I have two perfect sons and Keith. I found how to be happy, so you should too"

"Do you think we could have ever been anything more? If I hadn't attacked you"

"I don't know. I always thought you were cool and handsome, and you were dripping with alpha pheromones. You were pretty much the ideal alpha. But Keith... when I ran out of suppressants, I knew he was the one for me. Even though I was a mess, he kept pushing me"

"So probably not"

Lance didn't want to say he was sorry. What had happened in the past was best left there. Forcing himself to relax, he left himself doze as it would be a few vargas before they reached Honerva's base, even with Lotor's high-tec ship.

 Feelings Lotor's ship begin to descend, Lance forced his eyes open as he yawned 

"Lotor must have got the go ahead from mummy dearest"

"Do you have to make your hate for him so obvious?"

"Um, you do know we're his prisoners. We have literally been cuffed, and cuffed people don't usually enjoy it"

"You could at least wait until we reach the base"

"Or I could start now. I'm an omega, I kind of have to smell upset and angry"

"There's upset and angry, and then there's compromising the mission"

"Are you serious right now? No. Don't answer that"

"Lance"

"Serious Shiro, you're the one who's not playing his part"

Shiro sighed and rose to his feet. With one arm, it was kind of hard to cuff him, so he got to walk around free. Totally not fair. Sure he had his Bayard hidden inside his jacket, but he couldn't exactly do much with it

"Just don't over sell it"

"You don't need to tell me. Oh wow. Do you feel that?"

"Feel what?"

"I think we just passed through the shield"

"You can't know that"

"I can. I'm kind of getting a really bad feeling now"

It felt like his stomach had dropped, like when you miss a step and momentarily wonder if this is how you die. Even if Shiro didn't believe him, the sinking feeling was creeping up his spine and its tendrils were worming their way into his brain. Gagging as bile rose in his throat, he scrunched his eyes tightly together

"Lance?"

"I feel sick. Something's wrong here"

"Do you feel sick sick or just sick with fear?"

"Both"

"I'm sure it's just nerves"

Meaning Shiro probably didn't believe he got these strange feelings. It wasn't like he liked being even stranger than he was, but he couldn't deny it was happening

"It's not just nerves..."

 There was a small bump as Lotor's ship set down, and the man in question appeared smiling

"Are we prepared?"

"Lance says he has a bad feeling"

Lotor clicked his tongue, and Lance wished he'd never mentioned it

"It's too late now. Honerva is expecting a present, and that's what you two are. So please try to act accordingly"

Striding over to him Lotor seized him by the arm, yanking him almost savagely to his feet

"Hey! You do know I'm connected to this arm!"

"It's all part of the act"

"Then why does Shiro get to go free?"

"One of you needs to be, in case something goes wrong"

"That's why you're supposed to choose the guy with two arms!"

"Shiro is no threat to me as he is. You on the other hand are a Paladin of Voltron, with your Bayard"

"I'm pretty sure you could snap my neck with one hand"

"While that is true, you are much too interesting for that"

"I'll try to keep that in mind when you both need me to save you and my hands are stuck together. Can we get off this ship and into the base? I want to hurry up and see my kids"

"Don't forget Lance. You're his prisoner"

Lotor hummed as he frowned down at him

"He doesn't look roughed up enough to be a prisoner"

"What... wait!"

Lotor didn't wait. The Galra first pushing him down as kneed him in the stomach, and then kneed him in the face, splitting his lip in the protest 

"Are you serious!"

Kneeing him a third time, Lance was sure his brain rattled in his skull as the man's knee met his eye

"Enough!"

Pulling him back up to stand, Lance whimpered as he glared at Lotor 

"Keith is going to be pissed"

"It's for the good of the mission, now walk"

Shoved forward, the trio descended the ship's ramp and into an empty dome. Other than the occasional crackled that seemed to come from well above their heads, the whole complex was empty... and really cold. So cold his breaths came out as small huffy clouds

"Where is she?"

"In the main base, the hallway will lead us there"

"You know. It's not too late to leave. Go home. Forget all this happened"

"Lance, grow up. You're not a child and you can't keep running away"

"It's a joke Shiro. Don't tell me you've forgotten what a sense of humour is"

It wasn't a joke. It wasn't a joke in the slightest. Lotor hadn't helped the sick feeling infecting him, and even standing upright was a struggle. 

 With Lotor's firm grip on the back of his neck, Lance was marched down the corridor leading to the main base. The whole complex was bathed in the blue light of the quintessence, giving it the feeling that you were underwater... or at least that's what Lance told himself as he tried to make himself feel better, unsuccessfully. If he was right, there was more than enough quintessence to blow this quadrant of the Galaxy up, and more than enough to erase all traces that they'd ever stepped foot here

"Let me go!"

"L-Shut up! You will remember your place"

Lotor had nearly called him Lance, but as the centre console of the main base was coming into view, he supposed he should really start putting on a show

"My friends are going to find you and kill you"

"How? They can't even form Voltron without you. You might be useless, but that alone is your one redemptive feature"

"We don't need Voltron to kill you!"

"Your friend here sold you out. Do you really think they'll rescue you?"

Glaring up at Lotor, the man smiled coldly

"Those eyes of yours are like pure quintessence. It makes me want to pluck them out and eat them"

Lance's breath caught. He'd thought Lotor was following his lead, but the man seemed so serious and genuine in his words, that Lance was shaken

"Cease your pathetic show"

Jumping at the unexpectedly ragged voice, Honerva darted from the shadows of one of the other corridors

"Lotor, my son. What is the meaning of this?"

"I have brought you a gift. Not only the champion, but the Red Paladin of Volton"

"Unlike your father, I have no interest in the Paladins of Voltron and I have no interest in mere humans"

"Even if I told you think one, this male an birth children. His physique is like nothing we have encountered"

"If you wish to breed him, take him. Though your seed would be too strong for one like him. I have no use for him. I have no use for any of them"

Lotor smirked, as if he was more than happily mount Lance right there... and as if he'd expected this

"Did I mention he can channel and absorb pure quintessence with no side effects"

Honerva flashed in his vision before he was behind held up by his throat. His whole narrowing in on her face and blocking out the pulsing and bubbling tanks of blue quintessence 

"He could process pure quintessence"

"He can not only withstand it, he can absorb it into himself"

"I'll never help you"

"I think that you will. Kill the champion"

"Shiro, run!"

Turning on the spot Shiro went to grab Honerva's arm, but Lotor stepped forward, driving the alpha back into the wall. It was all over in the blink of an eye. Shiro was now half slumped on the floor, impaled on Lotor's sword 

"Shiro!"

"Your friend cannot help you now"

Using her free hand, Honerva held it over his forehead, blasting tainted quintessence directly into him. Screaming at the unexpected burn, it seemed like he couldn't process the tainted stuff, and his brain felt like it was boiling. By the time she stopped, he was gasping for breath and his whole body was covered in a fine layer of sweat as he shook uncontrollably. Mother-quiznakking-ow

"Yes. I think he will work quite well. A normal human would have expired"

"I will never help you"

Forcing the words out, Lance ground his teeth together. This wasn't how any this was supposed to play out

"I think once you understand, you'll see differently"

 Dragged along by his throat, Lance stumbled trying to get his feet under him, the assault from the tainted quintessence and growing feeling of dread left his legs dangling almost useless. Honerva was just one woman, he should be able to fight one woman...

 Thrown against the central console of the room, the word thrown didn't seem to adequately explain the jarring action before he fell limply. Looking around, the world was a blurry grey mess, and he could barely tell which way was up 

"Why... are... you... doing... this...?"

"I want my family back"

Out of everything Honerva could have said, he didn't expect that from the knowledge driven woman

"What family? Zarkon's dead! Lotor hates you! Everyone hates you! You ruined everyone's life!"

The next blow came from Lotor, as he stomped on Lance's knee

"Silence. Let her speak"

"My son doesn't hate me as much as it seem to believe. Though I was never the mother he deserved. Zarkon was so proud and excited when he found we were to be parents. When Zarkon died, I found my memories returning. Memories of the days spent in pursuit of knowledge with him by my side. We had so many plans for the future..."

"Well good for you. Now go join him"

"At Oriande I learnt the truth about quintessence. Every living thing contains quintessence. It's the spark that brings everything into existence, and when one dies, it's released. It exists between the realities, the glue as such keeping everything together. Without quintessence, nothing could exist"

"We already know that. Altean's knew that 10,000 years ago"

He should real shut up. He couldn't breathe as it was. It was that horrible struggle that came before vomiting, and if he kept opening his mouth, he might just do so

"Quintessence is life. Without quintessence, neither I nor Lotor would be alive today"

"Yeah... I'm not seeing a problem with you both dying"

Grinding down on Lance's knee, the omega was determined not to cry out in pain

"I found myself looking back to those days. That's why I had Lotor placed on the throne. Why I called for his return once Zarkon grew ill. My husband was a good man"

"Your husband was a psychopath that killed and tortured people for fun!"

"With the use of quintessence, I've been working on a device that will take me back to that day. That day when it all began"

Honerva was so far over the deep end, Lance doubted a lemming had ever fallen  as far as she had

"At Oriande I learned what I needed to do, and now you're the final piece of the puzzle. You who can absorb and process quintessence will act as the conduit that will allow me to tear time and space apart, so I might return to that day. With you here, my reach is advanced by phoebes"

"Sorry lady. Not interested. If go want to blow yourself up, go ahead"

"Place him on the table"

Lance was like 90 percent sure he wasn't going to like whatever this table was. Lifting him, Lotor carried him over to the table that was hidden by being built into the back of the central console. Dropping him down like a sack of potatoes, the man undid his handcuffs. Did that mean Lotor was on their side? And this was all an act? Or was he actually trying to help his mother? Shivering, he tried to curl in on himself, only to find he really couldn't move, his limbs leaden. Left "alone", both Honerva and Lotor back around the central console so Lance could only see their faces 

"How do I help?"

"Stay out of my way"

"Lotor, she's using you!"

"She's my mother. You have children, you must understand"

"I do understand. I understand that she doesn't love you. Nobody loves you"

"Perhaps you can show me what it's like to be loved..."

"Or you can go jump"

"Silence him. We do not need him conscious for this"

"Very well"

Walking back around the console, Lance traced every moment with his eyes. Reaching out and grabbing his throat, Lotor squeezed, giving him a small nod as he did. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was he supposed to go with it? Or did he like the idea of killing him? Opting for the first thought, he closed his eyes slowly, and moments later Lotor lowered him back down. Now "unconscious" on the table, Lance was forced to listen to Honerva babble on about something to Lotor about doing things differently and being a better mother. He really needed to listen, but his sluggish brain just wasn't processing the words properly.

 Thanks to how long it took for Honerva to work on whatever it was she was working on, Lance was on the verge of passing out when a jolt of blue quintessence forced his eyes open as it passed through him

"Incredible. This is incredible. Quintessence is life, yet it flows right through him"

"Is it his Altean blood?"

"Even Altean alchemists could not accomplish this... no matter. The final stage is now in place"

Placing her hand on the flattest part of the console, quintessence began to flood the pipes along the ceiling. Squinting down the closet tunnel, he could see something filling with it. This had to stop. He'd let Lotor do his thing for long enough, and he might have slightly forgot about Shiro

"Yes. Yes... as the other realities become unstable, more quintessence is drawn into this one. With the great flood of quintessence, I needed a regulator able to process and control the flow, without causing feedback or overheating. All my research to date ended with failed test subjects, but you. You might just work"

Unstable realities didn't sound good... the mental image of a dozen Slav's scared him more than a dozen Zarkon's invading their reality 

"What's happening!"

Scurrying around, Honerva moved to a platform built into the floor that he hadn't even noticed. Then again he hadn't noticed the bed either. Tilting the bed up, she exposed thick tubes filled with more pure quintessence running from the console

"In a few ticks, this reality will cease to exist as you know it"

"Like I'm letting that happen"

"You are powerless to stop it"

Throwing back her hood, Honerva stood proudly, despite the fact she looked like a wrinkled old hag again. The markings on her face now looking more like wounds, and her skin... she could definitely stand to work on her daily routine. Letting her head loll back, she raised her arms as if in worship as quintessence began to swirl around her. This needed to stop and Lotor wasn't going a damn thing. Fighting to control his body, he felt like the quintessence was passing straight through him like he a colander 

"Do something!"

"Perhaps she is right..."

"She's going to kill everyone!"

"If she can go back to that day..."

"She's crazy!"

Arching his back, he felt like pins and needles were raining down on his fingers and toes. So this gift of his had a limit? Quiznak. Fighting harder, he managed to get his up, before it was drawn back down to the table like it was magnetised. Come on. He just needed his Bayard. If he could his Bayard. Biting his lip, he soon abandoned it to scream as he pushed against the force. Little by little, he forced himself to roll, finally falling to land face down on the floor. Shaking, he tried to breathe, despite winding himself in the small fall

"It's too late Red Paladin"

"My name is Lance, and I won't let you do this!"

 Grabbing his Bayard out, he activated it. The pressure of armour helping to contain his injuries enough that he could move his body. Rising to his feet, he gripped his broadsword

"You look just like that accursed man"

"Alfor failed to stop you, but I'm not him!"

"Lotor, cut him down. His purpose has been served"

Rising as the quintessence whirlwind increased, he was fast running out of time. Throwing himself forward, he swung through the quintessence without making a different. Before he could try again, he was thrown across the room by Lotor 

"My son! I've always been so proud of you... I promise to be the mother you deserved"

Pushing himself back up, Lance swung again, trying to cut through anything that might give him an advantage

"Fool!"

As the whirlwind expanded, Lotor was thrown back by it, while Lance moved forward. He had to get to Honerva. He couldn't let her do this... raising his arm to shield his face, he continued until he reached the eye of the storm

"Stop this!"

"Don't you understand! I never wished for the destruction of Daibazaal"

"Yet you killed hundred of civilisations!"

"How is that any different from the Galra you've killed?!"

"The quintessence has corrupted you!"

"Quintessence is life! Like you have life inside of you!"

Blue light shot from Honerva fingertips like lightening as she began to scream. Her skin opening into thick wounds as the quintessence began to over power her. Now he was faced with a dilemma. If she died like this, he wouldn't be to blame. But if she did die, there was a chance the quintessence would become even more unstable and explode. Stowing his Bayard, he took a couple of steps back, before running forward and launching himself at Honerva with all his might. Landing hard on the woman, they slid to the outside of the quintessence, barely millimetres away from it. As she gasped for both Lotor and breath while trying to reach towards the whirlwind, Lance's hand went straight through her arm. She didn't even seem to notice, undeterred by the way her body spasmed and caved in on its self. Her body couldn't take it anymore. The years of tainted quintessence abuse had changed her, the effects of Oriande gone and now the pure quintessence was breaking her down. Rolling off of her, Lance looked to the control panel. He'd hoped the quintessence would stop if he removed Honerva from the equation, but it hadn't. Drawing his sword back out, he grimaced as he gripped it. Honerva's flesh and blood smearing on the handle as he did. Revolting. This was revolting and he didn't get paid anywhere enough for this. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and swung at the centre console, the reverberations shook his whole body, his armour holding him in place as the sword slice through the tech. There was a moment of complete silence before a boom and he was hurled backwards by an explosion. Shit. It was supposed to disturb the power supply and whatever was happening, not blow up! The whole base was going up! He needed to get out of there! Red! No. They hadn't come on Red! He could even fly Lotor's ship?! And why couldn't hear anything? 

 Coughing as smoke began to fill the place, Lance stumbled forwards, using the wall for support as he did. When a large hand landed on his shoulder, he span around, prepared to cut down the wielded, instead his eyes widened at the sight of Shiro. There wasn't a single drop of blood on him at all. Shaking his shoulders hard, he realised Shiro's lips were moving 

"I can't hear you!"

He couldn't even hear himself, just the same kind of submerged sort of ringing. Shiro's eyes widened, his hand coming up to touch the side of Lance's face, before pulling back and showing him his bloodied finger tips. He must have blown his eardrums in the explosion. Keith was going to be so mad! Grabbing his hand, Shiro began pulling him along, not looking back for Lotor as he did. In front of them a large section of roofing collapsed, bringing Lance up short as he tried to backtrack and stop in time. Grabbing his Bayard, Shiro swing down, cutting through the wreckage. That worked. They were about to continue when Lance felt something grab his leg. Looking down, Shiro released him, leaving him nearly collapsing on the spot as the alpha pulled Lotor up. Lotor looked the maddest Lance had ever scene him. His eyes so cold that Lance swallowed despite having a mouthful of smoke and dust. Shoving Lotor ahead of them, Shiro took his hand again, pulling him towards the ship.

 Only they didn't make it to the ship. Barely ticks before they did, Lotor's ship blew, with large chunks of molten metal were sent flying in every direction. Even if the team noticed, there was no way the could get there in time. He wondered why he thought that as both Lotor and Shiro threw themselves back, and pulled him down to the floor with them. Above him the sky turned red and yellow, and a real sense of fear filled him. He didn't belong here. He should be home with Keith. With Keith and their sons. Trying to push both men off of him, his eyes widened at the hunk of metal imbedded in Shiro's should. Lotor didn't seem hurt, his hair was half singed off, but other than that and the fact he was unconscious... he was fine. Feeling for his wrist communicator, he cursed himself for having left it home. Part of the whole "prisoners wouldn't have communicators" thing. Screaming out mentally for Red, he pushed both men off his legs and slid free. Shiro didn't have a helmet, and neither did Lotor... he had his, but how long would the shield around them last? Once it cracked, that black goop would flood in. Looking back down the hall, he found the whole corridor collapsed and that there was definitely no way he they were going back that way. Forward was just as bad, but they couldn't stay where they were. Trying to find a way to stand, the whole planet beneath him seemed to shake, making it basically impossible to find his feet. There came another two larger shakes, before the wall to his left disappeared... and Red stuck her head in. Momentarily struck dump, he reached out for her, knowing he couldn't make it. Keeping her eyes on him, Red leant down, opening her mouth around the three of them before snapping her jaw shut. With everything black around him, he wondered if he'd died, before realising his eyes were closed. He really was too far out of it

"Red! We need to get out of here!"

He didn't know if she heard him, but he was practically screaming it in his mind. Crawling across the floor, he pulled himself into his chair, before slumping over. He was such a mess. His pants were soaked in blood. His uniform was torn to shreds and he felt as if every bit of dust and debris was coating his skin. With shaking hands he took Red's controls, even though he knew he couldn't pilot her

"Red, you're going to have to help me girl. We need to get home"

Feeling her in his numb brain, he left her do her thing, knowing she'd get them home, no matter what happened to him, or Lotor and Shiro. He just had to stay awake. 

 Reaching the castle, Lance had fought the whole way to stay awake. Even if his nausea had turned to vomiting, and his head felt like it had been cleaved in two. Upon Landing, Red immediately opened her mouth, causing Shiro and Lotor to tumble down her ramp. Mentally thanking her, Lance didn't even try to move. If he did, he either throw up again, or pass out... or even worse, throw up and then pass out in it. Staying where he was, was the best option.

 Keith was the first to appear, Allura right behind. His mates eyes widened as he rushed over to him, taking his face in his hands

"I can't hear!"

Keith cringed and Lance figured he must have yelled it. Tilting his head first left then right, his mate looked positively murderous as his lips moved, probably saying something to Allura. Lifting him from his seat, Lance's eyes finally started to close, but a sharp slap from Keith had them wide open in a moment 

"Don't close your eyes"

That's what he assumed Keith was mouthing, though it could have been anything.

  *

When Red had left the castle on her own, Keith knew something had to be horribly wrong. He'd gone to her Hangar to feel closer to Lance, but when he got there, she'd already left. After running back up to the bridge, he'd yelled at Coran to track down Red, only to find she was already on her way back. Confused by what had happened, they'd all rushed back down to her hangar. When Lotor and Shiro had fallen down her ramp, Keith swore his heart stopped. He'd told them this was stupid plan, yet they'd gone ahead and gone anyway... and now... leaving Hunk organising immediately treatment for the pair, Keith had run up Red's ramp, only to for his heart to skip a beat again. By the thick smell of smoke, and burnt flesh, they're had been some kind of explosion, but what had him more concerned was the glassy look in Lance's bloodshot eyes. The left one in particular as there was no white at all

"I can't hear!"

Cringing at his mates yell, Keith moved to take Lance's face in his hands, tilting his head to as he looked for signs of fresh blood from his mates ears. There didn't seem to be any. That was a start

"Allura, I think he might be bleeding into his skull. We need to get him into a pod"

"Hunk and Coran are helping Lotor and Shiro down there"

He didn't care about them. Not when Lance was like this. Lifting Lance into his arms, his mate sighed 

"I want both Shiro and Lotor kept asleep until after Lance has told us what happened"

"Keith?"

"I never liked this mission, and if something happened, I want to make sure I hear the truth from Lance first"

Looking down, Lance's eyes were beginning to slide closed. No. Not good. Slapping his mate slightly harder than intended, Lance's eyes shot back open

"Don't close your eyes baby"

His mate seemed to understand.

 Careful not to jostle Lance too much as he rushed him up to the pod room, Keith had more than enough time to grow angrier and angrier. He'd told Lance he didn't want him going, yet he still had. He'd told Lotor and Shiro he'd kill them if they let Lance get hurt, but sure enough, his mate was hurt. This all better not have been for nothing. If Lance woke up and told him Honerva was still out there doing whatever she was doing, he was going to take Black and personally destroy her base.

 Lotor and Shiro were both in pods by the time he arrived with Lance. Carrying his mate to the closest pod, he rested Lance inside before kissing his bloodied lips. Despite being somewhat broken and beaten, Lance still managed a smile for him. God. How could Lance smile when he looked like he'd been to hell and back 

"Keith, did he say anything?"

"He couldn't hear. He was bleeding from both ears and popped blood vessels in both eyes. I think he was also burnt in whatever happened"

"What did happen? We pulled a piece of metal from Shiro's back, and it looked like it was from Lotor's ship"

"I have no idea. Red took off on her own, and there was clearly some kind of explosion. But until Lance wakes, we'll be in the dark"

"Shiro will probably wake before Lance. His wouldn't were pretty superficial. He had burns across his back, and that piece of metal..."

"Shiro and Lotor are to remain in their pods until we've had a chance to ask Lance what happened"

"Keith, are you sure? They were there"

"Yeah. Funny that. They were there, yet once again, Lance ends up like this"

"If there was an explosion, then maybe there was nothing they could"

"Or maybe they let it happen. Honerva's been holed up for phoebes and now this? I knew sending him in was a bad idea"

"Lance wanted to do this. He knew the risks"

"It doesn't matter!"

"You were prepared to do practically the same thing!"

"I wad going to go on my own, unlike him..."

"Unlike him what? You don't matter? You're just a pilot? What is it Keith? You're happy to leave your children without a father?"

"It's better than leaving them without their mother! Lance has always, always been a better person than I am!"

"And you don't think he'd be crushed if something happened to you? He wants this all to be over, that's why he went. Now go clean up. We'll all keep watch until you return"

"He's my omega!"

"Who's going to freak when he sees you covered in blood"

"That's all the more reason to stay!"

"We'll be right here. Go shower and come back, use the time to cool down"

"I am not reversing my decision over Shiro and Lotor"

 Not wanting to spend too long away from Lance, Keith showered quickly and headed into the the nursery to let his mum know what was going on. Pursing her lips and sighing, Keith wasn't sure how to take her response. Perhaps she was tired of watching the boys? Or maybe of Lance being hurt? If they were was an explosion, he probably couldn't have stopped it

"Mum, can I ask you something? Why have you been acting so strange towards Lance"

"I haven't"

"You have, and just now you looked annoyed. If he's done something, then tell me"

"Lance has not done anything"

"Then what is it?"

"Keith, Lance hasn't done anything. You should head back up to the pod room, I'll watch over the boys"

"Is that it? Because we keep asking you to watch over them? Mum, I know we don't always show it, but we really appreciate your help. Both Lance and myself. We both love you, and so do the pups. I know the last quintant was rough without Lance here to feed them, but I really do appreciate it... Quiznak. You think I'd be better at this by now, with Lance for a mate"

His mother gave him a small smile, that wasn't all together convincing 

"You're doing just fine. Now go on, make sure he's alright"

  *

Pulling Lance against him the moment the glass on the healing pod slid up, his mate nuzzled his neck as the omega wrapped his arms around him 

"Hey Keith"

"Hey baby. Can you hear now?"

"Yeah... my head's a bit sore, so can we keep it down?"

"You scared me again"

"There was an explosion. The quintessence went out of control... Honerva's body couldn't take it. Where are Lotor and Shiro?"

"In pods. What do you need?"

"A shower, and sleep"

 "How are you feeling Lance?"

Interrupting their moment, Hunk and Pidge came to their side

"Hey guys. I'm ok. Just a little dirty"

Wrapping their arms around them, Allura cried out in the background 

"Don't forget me"

The woman running over and throwing her arms around them

"Guys, this is too much. I'm ok"

Squeezing Keith tighter, Lance nuzzled at his neck. His mates scent beginning to spike with hues of agitation, and pain

"Ok guys, I'm going to take him down and clean him up"

"We still need to debrief about what happened"

"Honerva's dead. Her base blew up, but we need to make sure nothing's left of it. That's about it"

"Baby, that's hardly a debriefing"

"It's the best I can do until I've had a shower. I feel gross"

"You smell gross too"

"Thanks Hunk, way to make a guy feel good about himself"

"Just being honest"

"Hunk, you, Pidge and Matt scout out Honerva's base, without getting too close. Allura, you'll be on standby. I'll help Lance clean up and then we'll meet you up on the bridge. Call me if anything happens in the mean time"

"Will do"

 Lance wouldn't let him carry from the pod room down to theirs, so instead Keith had to content himself with wrapping his arm around Lance and practically supporting him down there. His mate wasn't exactly steady on his feet, but he also didn't go sprawling so that was win.

  *

All Lance wanted to do was shower. His stomach still felt gross from being hit by Lotor, and his ears felt grimy from the dried blood, but being able to hear again was nice. It wasn't until he could hear again, that he'd started to wonder what it would have been like to stay deaf. To never hear Keith's voice again or hear the pups first words. Shaking his head, he sighed to himself. He was fine. His brain didn't need to start all this "what if" quiznak. Make wheeling straight for the shower, he stripped out of his ruined uniform, before Keith was wrapping his arms around him again

"Keith, I'm ok"

"I know, doesn't mean I don't want to hold you"

Nuzzling his neck, his husband's scent told him he wanted more than just to hold him

"I'm sorry. I'm too tired for much more than showering. Would you get the pups for me? They've got to be starving"

"You don't want me to help you shower?"

"Not this time. I'm sorry, I'm just too tired"

"Ok baby, I get it. I'm sure our boys have missed you too"

"Thanks. I won't be too long"

Detangling himself from Keith's hold, the omega really needed to use the toilet, but didn't want to go in front of his mate. Especially when he felt so sick. Waiting patiently until Keith closed the bathroom door, Lance then rushed over and collapsed down on the toilet. His arse felt wet, and he couldn't believe he'd slicked just from walking down from the pod room.

 Only, it wasn't slick he cleaned up but blood. Being hit by Lotor must have done more damage than he'd thought. It was definitely a good thing that Keith wasn't there, or his mate would be worrying himself over nothing. Finishing up, he moved to the shower and cranked both taps to nearly full, before stepping under. Thanks to his fatigue the water felt like it was stabbing into him, though after a few long moments the sensation finally faded enough for him start scrubbing God only knew what from his skin. Taking the time to first throughly was his hair, Lance slowly soaped up the rest of his body, finding he was still bleeding in the process

"Lance?"

"Still showering!"

"Ok, the boys are waiting!"

With blood on his fingers, Lance didn't know if he should call out for Keith or not. He'd assumed the blood he'd passed had been there for a while, or at least since Lotor hit him, now he was kind of scared. His mate would worry, and probably insist he be scanned, and Keith would flip if he told him Lotor hit him, but he really wasn't supposed to be bleeding 

"Keith, can you come here!"

No sooner were the words out his mouth, was he regretting saying them, and the bathroom door was opening

"What's wrong?"

"I..."

Looking down to his fingers, he raised them to show Keith 

"I'm bleeding and I don't know why"

"Ok baby, it's ok. Let's get you out the shower and I'll check you over"

Reaching in to turn the shower off, Keith then took his arm and "helped" him out, leading him over to the bathroom counter where he wrapped his towel around him

"Where are you bleeding?"

Biting his lip, Lance looked down. Serious. The fellow teen had seen every single part of him, why did have to get so embarrassed over the stupidest of things 

"From down there?"

"It's stupid. It's probably nothing... I probably just hit my stomach in the explosion or something"

"It's not stupid. Let me see"

Lifting him up and onto the counter, Lance spread his legs while trying to hide at the same time, without having an escape route, he was left hiding his face behind his hands as Keith's fingers ghosted over his opening

"You're still bleeding... but I can't see any external trauma..."

"I'm going to hit if you say I have to have a scan"

"Baby"

"I shouldn't have told you"

"Lance, I'm relieved you did. Obviously not because you're bleeding and we don't know why, but because you didn't try to hide it from me"

"I... I was going to, but... um... can I get down now? I want to see our boys"

Instead of letting him get down, Keith lifted him off the counter, causing Lance to whine as his stomach protested the movement.

 Carrying him into their room, Lance's eyes went straight to the boys. Both were laying on their stomachs, while Kelance had his hand in his mouth

"Is everything alright?"

Jumping at the fact he hadn't even Krolia, Lance forced a smile in her direction

"Yeah. I'm just a bit tired. Thank you for looking after the boys, I'm sorry you seem to have turned into our glorified babysitter"

"He's not alright, he's bleeding"

"Keith, you don't have to tell mum that. It's probably from the explosion or something. I'm ok"

As Keith sat him down next to the twins, Lance tried to cover himself up with the towel the best he could

"Keith, why don't you give Lance and I moment"

"What? Why?"

"Because I would like to talk to him"

Lance was just as confused as Keith was, and all he wanted to do was feed his son's. Both boys were looking up at him with cheeky smiles on their faces, that even Kelance's drool covered hand couldn't ruin

"Keith, it's ok. Why don't you grab the boy's blankets from next door? You said we were going to head back up to the bridge"

"That's before I knew you needed a scan"

"Mum, how long's this conversation going to take? Keith seems to think it's going to vargas by the way he's acting"

"Not long"

"See, now go get the boys their blankets"

"But..."

"Keith, I love you, but this is only going to take a couple of ticks. I promise you can scan me after I talk to mum"

"Keep an eye on him..."

Krolia sighed, making shooing motions with her hands. Lifting Kelance up, Lance wiped his son's hand off on his towel, before immediately moving him to feed. His breasts were so heavy and tender, he moaned at the immediate relief as his milk started to drain 

"Mum, is everything ok with you? I haven't seen you much, we keep relying on you to look after the boys. I'm sorry we've been so busy"

Moving to sink down next to him, Lance found himself pulled up against the woman's chest as she buried her face in his hair

"Krolia?"

"I know why you're bleeding"

What?

"Um..."

"You're miscarrying. I thought you smelt different, but you weren't acting any different so I wondered if it was in my head"

"Krolia, I can't get pregnant at the moment"

"Yet your scent has definitely changed again... I'm sorry Lance, but I'm almost certain you were carrying"

If he was, he wouldn't have been much more than a movement or two, and he highly doubted he was. This didn't feel like last time, he just felt gross

"I can't. I haven't taken the ring off. Maybe my hormones were out of whack or something. I mean, my heat lasted 3 movements and I was sick during it"

Rubbing her cheek against his hair, she held him tighter 

"Perhaps. I hope for your sake I am wrong"

"Is that why you've been acting weird around us? Because you thought I was?" 

"That... and... I want to leave"

"You want to leave?"

"Don't get me wrong, I love both you and the boys, but I'm not used to a peaceful life. Here I have no chance to be of real use"

"Are you going to tell Keith?"

"I think he already knows how I feel"

"You still need to tell him... but just about you leaving. Not about that other thing. He... he'd worry too much if he thought it was true"

Lance knew that nearly three quarters of pregnancies ended in a miscarriage, but he highly doubted this was the case. Krolia never would have let him go on missions if it was, and the healing pod would have stopped it. To him it was much more likely it was just connected to the explosion and stuff

"Lance"

"Krolia, please. Look, he's making me have a scan, and I just had a whole heap of quintessence go through me. I'm not having this conversation"

"He has a right to know"

"No he doesn't. You know he'd worry, and worry over nothing!"

Snapping at Krolia, Kelance pulled back from feeding as he started to cry. Patting his son's bottom, he shrugged Krolia off of him. He'd know. He'd just somehow know

"There's nothing to be ashamed..."

"I'm not ashamed!"

 "Is everything alright in here?"

Standing in the doorway with the boys blankets and a neat pile of clothes, Keith looked less than impressed

"Lance?"

"It's fine"

"Yelling that you're not ashamed, doesn't equal fine"

"I'm not ashamed to feed my son's. Krolia has some stuff to talk to you about"

"Mum?"

"Not now. You help Lance and I'll see you later?"

"We're going to the medical room after this, and then the bridge to wait for the others"

"Than I'll see you on the bridge"

Kissing the top of his head, Krolia walked past Keith and out of the room like nothing was wrong.

 "Baby?"

"It's nothing. I'm just cranky because I'm tired and Kelance stopped mid-feed"

Moving his son so his lips brushed his nipple, Kelance soon relatched

"Do you want to tell me what happened during the mission?"

"Nothing much. We got there, and Lotor roughed me up so I actually looked like a prisoner. Honerva didn't want Shiro or I until Lotor told her how quintessence doesn't affect me like everyone else. She blasted me with tainted quintessence before telling Lotor to kill Shiro. Lotor stabbed Shiro, then put me on this table thing. Her and Lotor tinkered with the control panel, but I can't tell you what happened, my head was too foggy from the quintessence. She kept going on about going back to that day and being a better mum to Lotor. After that, she activated the quintessence, but she couldn't handle it in its pure form... kind of like how I couldn't handle it when it's tainted. It went out of control, she died and then things started blowing up. I was praying that Red would come save us, and somehow she did"

"Is that all?"

"That's the readers digest version, with expanded footnotes... sorry, I'm just too tired to report it properly"

"Maybe you should stay down here and sleep?"

"I'll be fine. I want to know what the others find"

"If you're sick"

"Keith, I'm fine. I mean, I'm ok. Just really drained"

"Then you definitely need to sleep. I'll set you up in the medical day, and I'll run an IV, you probably need the fluids"

"You're worrying again"

"How can I not? You were in an explosion"

"Which I came out of better than Shiro and Lotor, they're still in pods"

"That's because I ordered they be detained until I found out what happened"

Lance bit down an annoyed sigh. It'd been a mission that went sideways. They hadn't gone out of their way to physically hurt him

"Keith, they didn't hurt me. It was the explosion and quintessence"

"They should have done more to prevent you being hurt"

"How? Shiro was playing dead in the corridor and Lotor was keeping Honerva preoccupied. We all played our part"

Lifting Laneith up, Keith swaddled him in his blanket as their son grabbed for his hair

"No baby, that's daddy's hair"

"You don't have to tell him no"

"Don't come crying to me when he tries to pull it out then"

"He's just curious. He and Kelance both conquered rolling over, and wriggling like they were trying to escape while you were gone"

"That's my boys! You probably wanted to come save mummy, but mummy was already on his way back"

Striking Kelance's face, Lance beamed down at his son. Yes. No one could deny he was very much a proud mum, and his omega was definitely feeling clucky... it wanted Keith so badly, and it was practically begging to be bred. If he really was miscarrying, he wouldn't be feeling that way

"Lance, are you... what's wrong?"

"Huh? What do you mean what's wrong?"

"Your scent. You smell upset and confused. Did mum say something?"

"No. I'm just having a fight with my omega. Just holding the boys and watching them grow, it wants more pups already, despite the fact the twins are still so young"

"Being in heat probably threw your hormones out of cycle... that and all the stress you were under"

"Mmm, maybe"

"Besides, we are definitely not ready for more kids, not for a long time..."

It seemed to Lance that Keith wanted to end that sentence with "if ever", and his heart ached as his omega grew agitated over its alpha's clear rejection 

"What would you, if i did... I mean. What would we do?"

"I told you I'd support you, but we don't need to think about it right now. Here, I'll take him while you feel Laneith"

Exchanging pups, Laneith was just as "starved" as his brother. His son practically sucking his whole nipple into his mouth as he began to feed. Pulling back enough that just the nub was in Laneith's mouth, Lance hated the swirling thoughts and emotions he was now being subjected too. Stupid Krolia should have just kept her mouth shut. She had no right doing this to him, especially given his history.