#and the whole line of them just goes hello! in rapid succession

[full-moon-phoenix]

I always took at as: The wand didn't create that version of Star, it simply projected an alternate version of her that already existed. So the Star that went in is currently in another timeline so similar it might as well be the same one; same for the Star that came out.

The wand is just weird. Even without the Book of Spells to give us some guidelines, it's pretty weird. The entire thing changes shape depending on who's holding it, it projects the imagination, emotions, and mental state of its wielder so heavily that entire pocket dimensions exist comfortably inside it, some of which are probably only figments of imagination and/or magic and don't have any real bearing on reality. And the crystal itself canonically exists in two places at once, given it acts a portal directly to the Realm of Magic (that, I guess, can only be entered once it's cleaved?).

So it's really not too outside the realm of possibility to think it also bends space-time. Especially since, well, it literally did bend space and time in multiple episodes. Easily. Like what even???? What kind of raw power????? Honestly??????

hey I just realized something

in Into the Wand, the Star that comes out of the wand is not the one that came in. if anything the wand creates is made of magic, doesn’t that mean that Star should’ve died when magic was destroyed?

[magpie-scribbles]

Ahhh I’m bit late but here is my part of the BNHarem ~*Collab*~

Title: Call Me

Pairing: F!reader X Maijima Higari (Power Loader)

Rating: E

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: Smut, sex work, older man younger woman 

Higari sighs, his metal tipped fingers tapping on his work table 11pm, 11 pm and he still had so much to do. Normally he relished having work to do, rather being a busy bee than not, but lately the stress had been catching up to him. The academic year was in full swing, and with more villain activity than usual he was beginning to wear...A lot of his projects (pet projects) were starting to fall behind because frankly he was too stressed and found himself getting upset with himself when he made mistakes or miscalculations, which seemed to be happening a lot in his overall raised tension.

Realizing he wasn't going to make any progress aside from going in circles. He slumps, plunking down onto the stool next him, thumping his head against the metal of the workbench and just...sitting there allowing himself to cool off...or perhaps it was wallow…

Bzzzzz bzzzzzzz he feels it as much as he hears it as an incoming text reverberates through his skull. He tilts his head, just enough to glare at his cellphone on the far end of the workbench; he could ignore it, he could...but he doesn't. With a groan he sits up leaning over to swipe the phone up to see the notification.

Oh...Nemuri.

"Heeeyyyyy, how you doing???" She follows up with a few heart emoji.

To someone on the outside looking in it might seem like she’s flirting, or that they had something going on. But he and Nemuri had been good friends for so long that he doubts he could ever see her as anything but.

"Fine" He types out simply, not in the mood for banter, he hopes she's not putting together a last minute bar hop.

"Ooooo"

"That rough huh?" 

"Stressed?"

The texts come in rapid succession. He sighs.

"I'm fine" He repeats; though it's nice to have someone that worries about you from time to time.

It takes her a moment to respond, he can see the little typing indicator, bounce along the bottom off his screen and then stop and then start again.

"Did you call her yet?? 👀👀👀" Her response finally comes and he groans.

He had a feeling she was going to bring this up sooner or later.

"No I haven't called her yet" He replies, grumbling to himself as he hits send harder than he needs to.

"You should, she could really help you relax 😌" He can practically hear he voice through the illuminated text on his screen, goading him.

He can feel his face heat up, he wasn't a prude...this was just...he wasn't a prude!

"Kayama" now beginning to wish he never picked up the phone.

"It's not just about sex Maijima, where's your head??😏😏😏" now she was just being cruel, he shakes his phone in his gripe blowing out a puff of air, wishing he could berate her.

"In all seriousness tho, she can help you out, it's her job, she's really nice!" She adds.

He sighs, deflating a bit, mulling over the idea for a while...he thinks he still has the card Nemuri gave him. 

Reaching into the front pocket of his jeans he pulls out a crinkled card, oh, yeah he had definitely washed these pants a few times. Luckily the card had been printed on heavy sleek looking cardstock. And even with the edges slightly worn and the the paper somewhat crinkled, no expenses were obviously spared as the elegant type face remained readable even after a few trips through the wash...which was good for him because if it hadn't then he'd have to ask Nemuri for the details and that's something he would not want to live through. 

He sighs, looking from the card to his phone, weighing his options...he was very stressed and Nemuri said it didn't have to be about sex...not that he didn't like that! ...Damnit…

Suckling on his teeth he slowly punches in the number printed in embossed gold.

___________

You settle down into the pillows and blankets of your freshly laundered bed, wondering if you even want to try and read the next chapter in your book that sat on your nightstand. The sheets were still warm from the dryer and damn, it was tempting to just nestle in and go straight to bed.

BBBZZZZ BBBZZZ

Your brow furrows, the sudden sound brings you out of your very important and very difficult decision. For a moment the sound eludes you as you listen for it again.

BBBZZZZ BBBZZZ

Oh fuck that was your phone, your head whips to the nightstand again; the illuminated screen blocked by the book you had just been considering as the device vibrates beneath it.

You grumble, you know it could be a client but most of them had the decency to not call this late…well most of them did. 

Grabbing your phone you gaze down to the screen, cocking your head when you see a string of numbers you've never seen before, hmmm.

Reclining back into the comfort of your pillow pile you answer.

"Hello this is L/N F/N speaking." You say, all business; not one to ever come off as unprofessional even if it was a spam call.

There was a long pause; you almost repeat yourself when you hear someone clear their throat.

"Miss L/N, this is Maijima Higari....uhhh, Kayama Nemuri said I should contact you." His voice is soft baritone with a bit of gravel to it, he seems very uncertain, but you know who he is right away.

To be honest you had been quite curious about him since Nemuri had told you about her fellow hero and coworker.

You worked a lot with heroes, some high profile ones too, but you've never had a client that was also a support specialist, or as Nemuri had put it, a keen inventor. You were intrigued.

"Ah Mr. Maijima, Kayama mentioned you-" you begin.

"She did?" He interrupts and you can hear him shifting away from the phone "motherfucker"  you hear the breathy hiss, and you have to keep yourself under control because you did not want your first conversation with the man you had been interested in hearing from, to be you laughing at him.

He must have realized you can hear him because there's more scrambling on the other end of the line.

"Sorry 'bout that...Nemuri...likes to talk." He sighs.

You chuckle warmly; she had mentioned he was somewhat proud and what she called "aggressively" shy.

"She definitely can be quite the gossip." You reply and you hear him groan. "Though I assure you, it's all good things Mr. Maijima."

"Somehow that doesn't put me at ease at all…" he huffs, and you can't help but let out a small laugh.

There is a pause again, and you decide to gently encourage him.

"So what can I do for you Mr. Maijima?" You ask gently.

There's shifting on the other end of the line again and then a small cough.

"I've...I've been stressed lately, like...more than usual and Kayama said that you might be able to help with that." You can tell he's a bit uncertain on how to ask for your services.

"Of course, I'd be more than happy to help, just tell me what you need and I'll set up an appointment. " You recline further into your pillows.

"Uh well...fuck I've never done this before…" he sighs.

"That's perfectly alright." You reply, waiting for him to continue.

"...I-I don't know?" He says finally and you smile, you like when they're honest; not trying to show-off.

"Of course, we can figure everything out along the way." You hum and you hear him sigh in relief.

"Alright, yeah." 

"How about I put you in for this Friday at 8pm, I'll make sure that we have the whole night free to get you settled." You make a mental note to put that in your planner (not that you could forget, you were surprisingly eager to meet him.)

"Today's Wednesday." He says in reply.

"Yes?"

"So you mean in two days? The Friday in two days?" You suppress a chuckle; definitely needed to relieve some stress.

"If that's an issue I'd be happy to-"

"NO!...No it's fine, just surprised is all." His voice trails off and he clears his throat. "Sooooo so how do I do this?"

You pause for a moment considering. There are a few luxury hotels and venues you've preferred to use in the past...but...you decide to throw caution to the wind.

"Let me give you my address." You reply, a very rare option you give to only your most trusted clients; but he was good friends with Nemuri and you trusted her judgement whole heartedly.

"Oh!...are you sure you're okay with that? I understand if you don't want to do that, safety and all, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable" You smile, he was already quite the charmer even if he didn't know it yet.

"No need to worry, I wouldn't give it to you if I didn't want to." 

"Okay, if you're okay with it." He replies warily and you smile to yourself.

"I'll send you a follow up text with my address and a reminder of the time; is this an okay number to send that to?"

"Oh yeah, sure."

"Perfect, well Mr. Maijima, I'll let you go and I'll send you my info."

"Yeah, sure...uh thanks for this Miss L/N." He replies.

"It's my pleasure." You reply.

He gives you a quick goodbye and then the line goes quiet; chuckling to yourself you scoot down further into your blankets and quickly add Maijima Higari to your schedule. Before opening Maijima's number and adding it to your contact list.

Nemuri definitely seems to have good taste in friends (well you're one of them.) He has certainly caught your attention...in a good way.

_______

Higari groans, while body deflating as his muscles relax somewhat...that was one of the most nerve-racking calls he'd ever made.

God he probably sounded like an idiot. 

Huffing, he looks back at his phone and opens up his chat with Nemuri.

"I called her" he writes before getting up from his workbench with a groan, back popping as he stretches.

His phone buzzes a moment later.

“Maijime it’s like 11:30 at night!” Nemuri’s text reads; he pales and looks at the time on his phone. 

Fuck....now he felt like an ass. He goes to respond, not even sure if he should defend himself or brush it off when another text comes in from a new number. Cocking his head he swipes it open.

“Hello Mr. Maijime, it was a pleasure speaking with you tonight, I have you all booked for Friday at 8pm and I look forward to spending time with you.” he swallows thickly, reading over the message a few more times, taking note of the little hearts on the end.

“This is her job, this is her job, she’s just being nice…”  he mentally berates himself.

Reading over the message one more time he responds.

“Thank you Miss L/N.” he pauses and then adds “Sorry ‘bout calling you so late, lost track of the time.” he hits send before he can chicken out, and shoves his phone in his front pocket; out of sight out of mind 

It’s only a few seconds before he hears the buzz of his phone again and he scrabbles to get it, not even sure why he put it away in the first place.

“Nothing to worry about sweetie, I’ll see you Friday.”

Higari decides he needs a very cold shower and then promptly after needs to put himself to bed...he’d deal with Nemuri tomorrow.

_______

You decide against the silk robe after some debate, donning luxurious Egyptian cotton instead. You'd rather not scare him off or look too presumptuous, after all he might be satisfied with your other talents, though Nemuri had said he could do with a good Fuck. You had of course laughed at her crassness, but you couldn't help but feel a spark of warmth in your belly, it surprised you, it had been awhile since you had, let alone for a potential client. 

You needed to be professional.

Giving yourself a once over in the mirror you found your attire agreeable. Your robe was a little longer than the ones you usually wore for your clients, coming to brush against your knees. But it was your favorite, plush and warm and while a bit promiscuous it was also classic. 

Your hair and makeup was in place and you gazed down to your phone

7:45pm

You hadn't received and cancelation call or text so at this point all you could do was wait.

Padding through your apartment on your way to the lounge you make a few quick mental notes.

Did you have both red and white wine as well as a few stiffer drinks just in case ready? Check.

Bottled water on ice as well and had you tea kettle ready with an assortment of teas just in case? Check and check

A few hors d'oeuvres, nothing too over the top? Check.

You come to settle on your favorite chaise as you finish your little check off; yes you believe you had everything ready…

Your intercom pings, and you quickly get to your feet and shuffle over, pressing the talk button.

"Yes?"

"Miss L/N, there is a Mr. Maijima here to see you." The doorman's voice responds.

"Yes of course please have him come up." 

"Of course ma'am."

To be honest no matter how long you had done this you could never quite figure out what to do with yourself while you wanted for a client to come up to meet you. Nothing ever seemed natural or smooth... it irked you. You wondered what other consorts did, maybe you should ask a few of your colleagues next time you go out for drinks-

There's a firm knock on your door, jarring you out of your thoughts. 

Giving yourself a quick once over you, smooth down your robe and slap on a warm smile before opening the door.

"Mr. Maijima, I'm so glad you came." You move out of the way, opening the door further to allow him in.

"Uh thanks, yeah me too." He lets out a nervous laugh as he shuffles inside. 

He was quite charming. Nemuri had shown you pictures but pictures can never do enough justice to some people. 

He was dressed in a bomber jacket, dark pull over and well worn jeans and boots. He looked comfortable, the perfect amount of dressed down; he looked like himself, not trying to put on airs like some of your clients. 

"Let me take your jacket while you get your shoes." You say warmly and he gingerly shrugs out of the fabric.

"Thanks." He replies as he leans down to untie his boots.

"Nice place you have here." He replies as he looks around from his lowered position. 

"Oh thank you!" You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear as you look around your place fondly. "The main foyer is a bit much though." You add with a chuckle thinking to the decadence of the building's main entrance.

"Was pretty swanky." He replies nearly finished with his second boot.

"I assure you I'm much more down to earth." You reply and he perks up at that, you eye him curiously.

"Hehe, earth." He laughs and it takes you a moment to remember he's the Excavation hero and you let out a laugh, surprised by his humor.

"I wouldn’t have guessed you'd also be a man with a good taste in jokes." You reply and extend you hand out to him as he tucks his boots away. You have always been a fan of so-called bad jokes.

He seems to like that and puffs up with a smile, slipping his large hand into yours. Oh it was warm and rough; Nemuri did say he was good with his hands. 

"How about we settle in." You say nodding your head towards the lounge.

He nods and swallows thickly, still visibly unsure, but obviously not willing to back down.

You smile at him and gently lead him out of the entryway. 

As you lead him further into your apartment you had taken note that while he was untying his boots he could have very easily looked up your robe, but instead all of his attention was on you, his sharp grey eyes peeking out from a thick fringe of fiery hair. He was watching and listening to you not ogling you, it made your heart warm.

Yes, you had decided that he was certainly a catch.

You lead him into the lounge motioning for him to sit anywhere and he takes his place in one of the plush armchairs across from you chaise. You wish he would have opted for a closer seat but you want him to be comfortable first and foremost.

"Can I get you anything? Wine? Something stronger? Water, tea?" You ask.

"Uh water's fine right now, thanks." He replies and you crack open one of the water bottles and pour it into a crystal tumbler.

You hand it to him and leave the water bottle close to him on the coffee table.

"Thank you L/N." He replies and takes a sip.

"Please call me F/N." You say as you settle on your chaise, he pauses for a moment, mouth full before swallowing

"F/N…" he parrots, voice surprisingly gravelly despite the water he just drank.

You smile and nod your head.

He fiddles with the empty glass in his hands before looking up at you with genuineness; your heart flutters and you’re once again surprised by your feelings.

"Call me Higari."

_______

Higari slowly begins to relax as you talk, his posture loosening and his voice becoming less tense and formal. When he finally laughs fully at one of your jokes, you feel warmth wash over you in a pleasant wave of contentment. 

Despite his obvious relaxation you can’t help but notice he shifts every so often, adjusting his back or subtly rolling his neck. Small ques that make you realize that he wasn't only mentally stressed but physically as well. 

"Higari." You catch his attention as he excitedly tells you about a project he's working on. "Sorry to interrupt but is your back bothering you?" You ask softy and he blinks at you in surprise.

"Oh sorry, that noticeable?" He chuckles. "'S probably from hunching over a workbench all day." He's trying to wave it off, not make you worry.

"Would you mind if I used my quirk on you?" You ask gently, not wanting him to feel pressured. 

"Uuhhh, you haven't already?" He looks a bit confused and you can't help but let out a hearty laugh.

"Of course not, I would never use my quirk without your permission." You smile and you watch as his cheeks turn ruddy with blush. "Might I ask what you thought my quirk was doing all this time?"

He leans back a bit huffing softly to himself, trying to control his embarrassment. 

"Make me relax I guess?" He mutters under his breath and you smile fondly, happy that he truly was relaxed around you.

"You’re sweet, while my quirk does help people relax, I wasn't using it on you." You reply sitting up and gently patting the space next to you on the chaise. " could I show you, I'll stop if you don't feel comfortable."

He observes you for a moment, mulling over the idea or trying to pump himself up you're not exactly sure; but then he slowly gets to his feet and walks over to you.

"Never done this before…" he says softly as he looks down at you, trying hard to be open and honest.

It's one of the sweetest things you've ever had happen with a client and you gently take his hands and pull him down to sit next to you.

"That's perfectly alright, whatever you are comfortable with, whatever you want Higari." You say gently and give his hands a reassuring squeeze.

He looks down, his hands are so large in yours; turning them over in his he brushes the metal tips of his thumbs against your palms reverently, and you swoon a little bit. 

"Show me you quirk." 

You feel pride well in your chest.

"I would love to." You smile before adjusting a bit. "Lay down on your stomach, there should be enough room for you to lay down fully." 

He complies, seemingly throwing caution to the wind, but you can see the tremble in his arms as he lowers himself to the plush cushion of the chaise.

"I'm going to sit on your thighs is that alright?" You question.

It takes him a moment to respond and when he does it's a breathy "yes" and you're glad he's facing away from you so he doesn't catch the shiver that runs up your spine at the tone of his voice.

Slowly you crawl up his body, careful to let him feel every move, to let him know your position until you are sitting comfortably on his muscled thighs, your legs tucked on either side of him. He lets out a shaky sigh as you reach out and run your hands from his shoulder blades down to the small of his back.

"My quirk works best with skin to skin contact, you are certainly welcome to leave your shirt on or remove it." You begin your typical overview of your quirk when he moves beneath you suddenly, almost setting you off balance as he reaches behind his head. Fisting the fabric at his back and rucking it up over his head, fluffing up his hair as he does before letting the article of clothing crumple to the floor.

You're too surprised to move from his sudden boldness as he settles back down, neatly crossing his arms beneath his chin. 

After a few moments you manage to pull yourself together and you slowly, gently lay your hands back on his now bare shoulder blades and oh! Beneath your palms he is trembling; now you desperately wanted to sooth his frayed nerves.

"My quirk allows me to admit frequency through my skin, that I can channel into vibrations." You tell him gently as you smooth down his back again, slowly activating your quirk.

He tenses for a moment and then begins to relax into your touch.

"It can help muscle relaxation and promote blood flow." You continue as you knead a knot along his lat. 

"It ah- sounds like your quirk is definitely a benefit." His voice is breathy, almost sighing as he falls further into your touch.

"I like to think so too." You say fondly, you were really starting to enjoy his company and his kindness. "You were talking about one of your inventions earlier when I interrupted, I would very much like to hear more about it." And it was the honest to God truth.

He hums in contentment and from his position on his folded arms you can see a genuine smile grace his lips.

He quickly eases back into his explanation and his ideas as you allow you quirk to sink into his skin while you massage his tense muscles. Honestly you could listen to him talk for hours, even if you didn't quite understand some of it; it was fascinating and his passion and enthusiasm was a pleasant warmth that enveloped you.

Slowly his muscles begin to ease up under your ministrations and his voice begins to get more husky and more lax. You’re not exactly sure when he stopped talking but you suddenly notice the silence and the absence of his pleasant voice.

"F/N?" You blink, gazing up from you hands, to find Higari staring lazily up at you through the fringe of his hair. His stare is hypnotizing

"Yes?" Your voice is breathier than you would have liked.

For a moment he doesn't say anything and then he shifts, starting to roll on his side and you gingerly move to sit beside him, you barely have anytime to take in his sudden change when his large hand comes up, fingers brushing against your jaw tentatively.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks softly and you definitely swoon, you hand coming up to press his touch closer.

"I would like that very much." You hum, your blood singing at the thought of his lips on yours.

Slowly he rises up and you can feel him moving against you and as he does you feel his lower half brush against your hip and the strangest combination of pride and desire fills your chest as you feel the hardness straining against his jeans.

Everything seems to still for a brief moment and then his nose brushes against yours and you suck in a shaking breath as his lips press against yours.

It's like firecrackers, zipping along you skin, you feel your toes curl and you lean into him. He groans against you and slings his arm around your shoulders pressing you to him, your chest flush with his bare one. 

You sigh against him and he takes a moment to adjust, tilting his head, teeth clacking against yours as he slots himself against you.

You feel as though you are made of feathers, your whole body alight as you kiss him back feverishly. It's been awhile since you felt this and you can't get enough.

Letting out a small whine you smooth your hands down his ribs bringing them around to rest on his lower stomach; you feel the muscles jump against your fingertips and then he trembles against you letting out a wonderfully gravelly moan that reverberates in his chest. 

Then he's slowly pulling you back with him, laying back down against the chaise, tugging you on top of him. He pauses moving away to catch his breath, a hand coming up to smooth over your hair. Your breath hitches as you take him in; he's beautiful… his cheeks stained with blush, his grey eyes gazing up at you half lidded and hazy, pupils blown so wide the irises are halos of near silver.

"Can we…? Is this okay?" He asks hesitantly and you have to stop yourself from squealing in delight.

"It's more than okay Higari, I would love to." And you mean every word of it. 

He groans, lips parting to wet them before he cups your face in his hands and pulls you back down into a fiery kiss.

It's almost feral the way you move against each other, palming and smoothing down every inch of skin that you can. He slowly pushes your robe from your shoulders, the belt the only thing keeping it from coming free completely, and he lets out a strangled sound when he realizes you're wearing nothing underneath.

You quickly grab one of his hands and press his large palm to your breast and he quakes beneath you as he begins to knead the soft flesh. You instantly melt into him, moaning and moving against him in your excitement, his metal tipped thumb coming to press against your pebbled nipple. 

He's wonderful beneath you, shedding his shyness as his lips move from yours, coming to place open mouthed kisses against your jaw and neck. 

Your hands continue to roam across the wonderfully compact muscles of his torso, fingers pausing to flick at his nipples before moving to dig into his sides before sliding down to rest on his belt buckle.

You pull away and he lets out a whine as you sit up, gazing down at him, watching as his chest heaves. You wet your lips, thumbing his buckle to get his attention and his gaze darts down to where your hands rest, just above the straining tent in his jeans. Slowly his gaze drags up your body and then…

"Please…" It's breathy and needy, and you can help but let out a small moan as you nod and get to work.

You quickly divest him of both his pants, boxers and socks, leaving him wonderfully naked and needy beneath you, and oh is he a sight to see. 

Taut muscles tensing against soft skin, a smattering of coppery hair on his chest that tapers down his belly to a thatch of curly short hairs framing his perfectly sized cock that now lays dribbling against his stomach.

"Oh Higari, you’re beautiful." You purr, running your hands down his chest.

"Got nothing on you…" he grunts arching into your touch, practically begging you to go lower.

"Such a charmer." You reply with your finger sliding teasingly over his weeping head.

He arches, pale column of his throat on display for you as he lets out a moan.

"Y-you're perfect." He husks and you feel your chest swell with pride.

You pull back for a moment, much to his displeasure, but that quickly changes as he realizes you're removing your robe.

You quickly take the condom out of your pocket before discarding the clothing to the floor in a heap. Laying the rubber next to your calf for easy access. 

Straightening up you perch on his upper thighs and then slowly move your hips.

"Can you feel me Higari?" You hush knowing full well you’re dripping all over him. "Can you feel how wet I am?"

He lets out a needy moan and his hands come to clamp down on your hips as he rolls his hip, cock thrusting up into the cool air of your apartment. 

"Please, please, F/N...please." His words are soft and airy and you absolutely live for them as you roll your hips again, hand smoothing down his aching length.

"Anything you want love." You hush him and grab the condom, he's already so far gone he doesn't even perk up at the sound of the foil tearing.

You need him to pay attention. Tapping his hip bone he slowly comes to focus on you.

"Watch me Higari." You say and you slowly roll the condom onto his straining length.

You want to absolutely pamper him as he makes small little hiccups as you smooth the rubber down him before gently grabbing his base, moving up onto your knees hovering just over him.

"Watch me Higari…" you repeat and he's enraptured as you slowly sink down onto him, bottoming out on him completely in one go.

"Ha-ah!" He arches hands pushing you impossibly closer as he thrusts up into you though there is no more room left to fill.

Oh he's perfect, filling you to the brim, stretching you deliciously as he becomes an unabashed mess beneath you.

You try to move, but his grip is bruising, abdominal muscles tensing as he tries to keep himself in control.

"Higari." You sooth and he looks up at you, lips parted and eyes holding so much adoration it nearly knocks you over.

He lets up his hold after a moment and you lean forward, placing your hands and his chest to steady yourself. You give him an affectionate stare before you rise up, keeping just the tip of him inside before swiftly curling your hips and spearing yourself on his length.

He practically howls and throws his head back, and oh you want to see more of this, want to see him come undone.

You begin a rhythmic deep pace, making sure to swallow him whole on each downward roll of your hips. Higari is already a mess beneath you, now completely out of his shell on full display. In the back of your mind you briefly think he could have been a porn star if he put his mind to it.

He pushes you out of your thoughts as he grips your hips once more and tries to aid you in your movement, you can't help bit smile.

"Relax Higari, this is about you, I'll take care of everything…" you breath and he swallows thickly.

"Wanna help." He slurs "ha! You're so good, soso good." 

"Next time." You're even a bit surprised by how sure there will be a next time and Higari seems to take note of that as well as you watch his gaze unfocus and refocus.

You continue your pace, though your thighs begin to ache, it's too delicious to even think about slowing down; the way your positioned has your clit rubbing against his pubic bone with each roll of your hips.

You can tell he's getting close, the way he trembles and the way he tries to jerk up ever so often out of sync with you. His gaze catches you and for a moment you feel like your drowning. It's then you feel the pad of his thumb press against your clit; you gasp and look down to watch his metal tipped finger swirl around your delicate bundle of nerves, cock disappearing lewdly inside of you with each roll of your hips.

"Gonna, cum, wan' you to cum with me." He husks, bringing your attention back to him and suddenly you're on the cusp, the precipice. 

"Oh, yes, yes...Higari." your head lolls as you allow him to help, his hips thrusting up to meet yours.

And then he's curling, body tensing as he lets out a breathless moan, mouth slack and eyes fluttering closed as he starts to cum. 

That's what pushes you over the edge, his debauched display. And as you tumble over the edge, stars bursting behind your eyes, and toes curling you briefly wished you could feel him pumping you full.

It takes you a moment to come down from your brief jaunt in paradise, sagging against him, panting. You feel his grip on your hip loosen and he brings his other hand to your thigh, thumb coming to sooth over your skin.

You sit in silence as he softens inside of you and you know you should get up and tidy up a bit, but you're basking in the afterglow and you can't find it in you to care that much.

Higari lets out a pleased sigh and he looks completely and utterly satiated and relaxed; it warms your heart.

The next words that come out of your mouth surprise you.

"Stay the night." You whisper almost shyly and it quickly catches his attention.

He cocks his head observing for a moment.

"Do most of your clients stay? I don't want to intrude."  

You honestly are afraid to answer because the answer is no, they don't, and you suddenly feel so raw and exposed it almost scares you.

He must pick up on your nervousness because he gently cups the side of your jaw, brushing some of your sweat damp hair away from your face.

"I'd love to." He says and you feel your heart soar as you nuzzle into his touch.

[janeofcakes]

KYFC..: Chapter 14

Hello, my friends! It’s been a whirlwind of a week. My days were all screwed up and everything went so quickly - meetings, cataloging and the lot. Even my daughter (7) has noticed how quickly time goes now. Friday was the last day of school and we are now in talks here because parental units want to see schoolwork and schedule continue while the childrens want them to end. They actually sat down together in a secret conference and wrote out their ”demands”. You say cute, I say eek!

But enough about that, the bout with the Ravens is finally upon us! Instead of my usual snarky teasing, I know how disappointed you are (Ha!), I wanted to define a few terms again and explain one or two things.

Pack - the largest group of blockers from both teams skating within ten feet of each other.

Blocker - a skater who tries to prevent the jammer from skating around the track and scoring points.

Jammer - the skater who skates around the track and aims to pass all of the blockers on the opposite team. A point is scored for each opposing team blocker the jammer passes. 

Lead jammer - the jammer who breaks through the pack first (no points are scored on the initial break through. The lead jammer controls the jam and can call it off at any time, unless in the penalty box.

Not a term here, but when I refer to a triangle formation it is made of of three blockers. One faces the jammer and is the head, or top, of the triangle. The two remaining blockers stand side by side, facing the head of the triangle and facing away from the jammer. The head has a hand one of of each of their shoulders and they each have a hand on her shoulders. This keep the triangle tight and steady. The head shouts commands to the other two blockers because she can best see the jammer.

I hope that all makes sense. Off we go!

---

To tell the truth, I am getting away with murder. It is impossible to never tell the truth, but the reality is I’m getting away with murder.                                            --Papa Roach, Getting Away with Murder

“Watch out for 32. She hits hard and she has your number,” Sherlock’s eyes are narrow slits when he looks to Harry in the tight huddle they form with Hella, Groot, Smacks and The Woman just outside the track.

“No shit. She’s been hittin’ my ass every jam. I’m working on a bruise bigger than the fucking space needle,” Harry hisses angrily, annoyance and adrenaline rolling off her in waves.

Sherlock stares at her coolly. He runs a few scenarios in his mind palace as she continues to curse in a steady stream, becoming more and more creative as she goes. A second later and his eyes are focused again. 

“What can I do about this fuckstick? It’s like I have target on my back,” Harry complains. “How the fuck do I stop her riding my ass?”

“Can’t really blame her, love,” Clara Hell on Wheels teases with a flirtatious grin and a glance at HardOn’s posterior.

“She always takes turns tightly and comes in on the left,” Sherlock tells her. “Visibly brace yourself for the hit she wants you to expect and then make her miss. Hella and Smacks will pick her up. Groot, work on their blockers so The Woman can get through.” He looks around the circle at the face of each skater, the calm that only a plan can bring in his eyes. Each of their expressions changes in turn to reflect steady certainty where there had been chaos.

“Right. The left,” HardOn furrows her brow as she pictures what her coach has described. “That’ll work.”

“Ready then, ladies?” The Woman asks with a broad grin on her blood red lips.

“You bet your ass,” Hella replies, holding out her hand in the center of their circle. Everyone, including Sherlock, covers her hand and each of theirs in turn.

“For Rock City,” Groot says solemnly.

“And glory,” Smacks adds.

They all raise their hands collectively in a gesture of power, their faces already in triumph as if by the power of Greyskull, they have the power! Their hands drop with the kind of assertiveness held only by a true badass who knows no one can fuck with her turf. The Woman twirls her head toward the track dramatically in invitation to the others to join her. They each nod, steel in their eyes and tenacity on their faces as all five women skate onto the track and get into position while Sherlock remains on the sideline. He cannot resist a quick look to John, who is across the track standing in the aisle with spectators all around. He looks inconspicuous enough, but can hear most of what the other team is saying. It is perfectly legal as far as the official rules go, but the two men have to watch carefully that they do not do anything that looks even remotely like signaling. Any cheating results in disqualification and Rock City is still undefeated at this point, which is difficult, but not unheard of.

“Ten seconds!” the timer shouts and all ten women on the track bend their knees and straighten their spines. The whole stadium vibrates with energy, fans for both teams stomping and shouting. The whistle blows as the timer drops her arm from where it was held aloft and the track springs to life.

The Woman plunges her lanky body into the triangle of Ravens blockers nearly slipping between them right off the line, but the skater acting as the head of the trio closes the gap and prevents her escape from the pack. Face to face, they snarl at each other as The Woman gives a good push and then hops to the right on her toe stops, lunging forward and pumping her legs. Not to be undone, the trio moves with her, still in triangle formation. They tighten the iron grip on one another’s shoulders to stay together as they move. The skater closest to the outer side of the track shoves The Woman with her ass in an attempt to knock her out of bounds. The Woman sees it instantly and twirls to keep her skates inside the line, circumnavigating around that ass and cutting to the left, only to meet the fourth blocker in the pack. Hungry to break through, she continues to hop and push at the blockers.

Meanwhile, HardOn and company have formed an unbreakable wall for #32. She shifts this way and that, snapping her teeth as she bites at the air in an intimidating effort. Hella barks orders at HardOn, Smacks and Groot so they stay in her way.

“In! In! Out, out, out!”

“I’m going around!” Groot shouts.

“Go, go, go!” Hella answers and the three maintain the wall while Groot skates away from the pack and all the way around the track. When she rejoins, it is with the other group of women where she slams into one. With a satisfied gleam in her eye, Groot knocks her on her ass and shoves toward a second skater. The Woman takes the opportunity to follow behind Groot and dart around the whole group. The fourth blocker lunges to pick her up and misses, leaving The Woman to glide away free and clear, blowing a kiss as she goes and earning lead jammer. One of the trio lashes out at Groot in frustration, dropping her to her knees and drawing a penalty. She heads for the box as The Woman weaves her way around her own teammates and the opposing team with such grace and skill, earning four more points for Rock City.

Finally, #32 breaks free from her own wall of blockers and skates away furiously. Suddenly unoccupied, Smacks throws a skillful shot at the trio of Ravens readying to block out The Woman and creating enough of a scuffle that The Woman weaves between them all a second time. Groot forms up with Hella and HardOn readying for another attack by 32, who started building speed as soon as she broke away from the pack.

“HardOn, look out!” Smacks shouts just before 32 slams into her as hard as she can. 

The warning was meant to help, but only succeeds in startling HardOn and increasing the effect of the hit. Her eyes wide in terror, HardOn flies right off her skates. It happens in a split-second, but the scene plays out in slow-motion for everyone in the stadium. HardOn hovers in mid-air with a curse on her lips before slamming right into Smacks, normal speed returning as 32 spirals into the mix. They skid out of bounds in a tangle of limbs and loud grunts, Smacks on the bottom and taking the full force of the other two skaters. Her scream echoes through the stadium at impact and she clutches at her calf as soon as they come to a stop.

Whistles blow loudly, three in rapid succession, as Sherlock rushes onto the track. In spite of being closer, somehow John gets there first. He calls for his bag and begins assessing the damage. Sherlock squats next to him.

“Fracture?” he asks in a serious tone. 

“Yes,” John nods. His lips press into a thin line, his brows drawing together in concentration.

“How bad?” Sherlock can’t keep his voice from trembling, his genuine fear for Smacks threatening to surface.

“Not good. It’s near the knee,” John glances up when Trixie sets the medical bag next to them. “Ta.”

Sherlock releases a harsh breath through his nose as he turns to the side and motions for a stretcher. Every skater in the stadium, on and off the track, is down on one knee in solidarity. Smacks is biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. She holds her breath and then inhales sharply as John continues examining her leg while he asks questions. She bites back a cry and squirms, which only seems to increase her pain.

“It hurts here?” John asks with raised brows and she nods.

“John?” Sherlock fixes him with a steel gaze.

“Her ankle may be broken too,” he replies after gently squeezing one last time. “I need an x-ray. Could be sprained, but I’d say broken.”

Two men place a stretcher next to the fallen skater and unbuckle its straps.

“You have an ambulance on standby, yeah?” he asks them.

“Yes, sir,” the one with plugs in his stretched earlobes answers.

“Good. I want to take her straight to the closest ER. If her tibia is broken the way I think it is, she’ll need surgery,” John’s voice is crisp. He is in full-on doctor mode, his orders for the two men clear and concise. 

“Surgery?!” Smacks queries in a hushed voice that sounds like a gasp.

“Don’t worry, Janine,” John’s eyes soften as he turns them toward her. His face relaxes and his body language is open, honest and comforting. “I’ll see you through it every step. You’ll be fine. Trust me.”

She can only nod a pained grimace and then let her mouth fall open in a silent scream as pain racks her body. At John’s advice, she tries to keep her body limp as he and the two men lift her onto the stretcher and strap her in. She still bites off moans with every movement and looks more than a little grateful once secure. John turns to Sherlock while she is being wheeled away. 

“I’ll phone you as soon as I know anything concrete,” he promises.

Sherlock nods, giving John’s arm a tight squeeze as he pushes him off the track and towards the exit. John understands, gives Sherlock a tight smile and jogs after Smacks.

***

The rest of the bout goes without a hitch. Rock City wins by fifteen points. Sherlock receives a call from John just after his celebratory remarks in the locker room. He confirms an oblique fracture of the tibia, just under the knee and a stable fracture of the fibula where it meets the talus. Both require surgery and John will stay at the hospital until Smacks is resting comfortably. Sherlock gives the news to the team once everyone is on the bus for the hotel.

“Fuck me,” HardOn breathes an astonished whisper. “That shoulda been me.”

Hella finds her hand and holds it tightly, a misty look in her eyes as she lays her head on HardOn’s shoulder. The bus is quiet, every skater exhausted, and in a haze of worry and regret. Watching them from his seat at the front, Sherlock straightens his spine and calls out so all can hear.

“Janine is in the best care with John. Concern for her is admirable. It’s what a team is, but we have nothing to fear,” his words float over every skater and he can already see them perking up.

“You best your ass, Coach,” HardOn answers boisterously, Hella raising her head again with a grin. “Ph.D.’s the best of the best. We don’t keep him on just for his body, after all.”

“Not that it isn’t reason enough,” The Woman leers and the bus erupts into laughter.

Sherlock eases back into his seat, listening as the ladies crack jokes and bolster one another. A small smile of pride tugs at his lips. Despite the accidents and obstacles, the ladies are a team above all else. They band together on and off the track like a family. The smile grows as Sherlock’s words from their first bout emerge from a corner of his mind palace; the ladies never cease to amaze him.

Upon their arrival at the hotel, the ladies head up to their rooms to stow their gear and meet back in the bar for a drink or two.

“To Smacks,” Trixie raises a glass. “To the surgeons and steady hands. To a speedy recovery.”

“Hear, hear,” The Woman declares. Every skater echoes her words and they all down a shot. Sherlock taps his empty glass on the table thoughtfully.

“Coach?” Trixie asks in a quiet voice. He turns his gaze on the acting captain and straightens his spine.

“Make sure they’re all in their rooms by midnight. We have to be at the airport at nine tomorrow morning.”

“Will do,” she promises and adds with a wink. “I’ll see to Harry personally.”

Sherlock cannot stop a quiet huff of mirth and he pats her shoulder in thanks as he rises. 

“I’m going to the hospital,” he informs the cheerful team in a loud voice. 

“Tell Smacks we’re thinking of her,” Trixie gives him a nudge and meets his eyes.

“I will,” he assures. He nods at each of them in turn and hastens out of the bar.

Sherlock spends the cab ride telling Greg about the bout and Smacks’ injury. He scrubs a hand through his curls as they discuss it at length, as well as #32’s apparent personal vendetta against HardOn.

“It was no accident, Greg. That woman was on Harry’s case from the moment it started,” he says with certainty. “She was the target. If she had impacted the track with that force, she would have broken more than two bones. Janine was in both the right and wrong place.”

His leg bounces restlessly on the seat, the only outlet for his agitation.

“Jesus, Sherlock,” Greg’s voice is full of shocked disbelief. “Do you think Harry will be targeted again?”

“Yes, definitely,” he replies. “They will not stop until they succeed.”

“But why would someone on the Ravens help James Moriarty?” Greg asks. “Assuming you still think he’s responsible after this.”

“I don’t know,” Sherlock ignores the comment, “but I intend to find out.”

“Sherlock, don’t do anything foolish,” Greg cautions. “Where are you?”

“On my way to the hospital,” his response is quiet, but books no argument.

“Good. Yes. Stay with John and stay out of trouble. We’ll figure this out when you get home,” Greg says with a hint of that GM instruction in his tone.

Sherlock sighs and rolls his eyes at Greg’s big-brother overtones. The call ends just as the cab pulls up to the hospital. Sherlock pays the driver and walks swiftly into the building. He makes a few polite inquiries into John and Janine’s whereabouts, resisting the urge to snap at every person in his way. Taking a quick detour to stop at the hospital coffee shop, he ultimately pushes into the day of surgery waiting room. John is alone, save a couple mumbling in low tones to one another in the corner.

“John,” he says quietly as he approaches the doctor. John looks up and Sherlock offers one of the two coffee cups in his hands. “Just the way you like it.”

“Thanks,” a smile plays at the side of his mouth and he takes the cup.

Sherlock sits next to him and they both sip their coffees. He tries to read John in sideways glances. He looks tired, but not worried or frazzled. Assured of Janine’s condition, Sherlock allows himself to relax further and take a moment to observe John. It is quickly becoming one of his favorite pastimes; watching John. John’s face is all soft lines and dimples. His eyes are the color of the ocean, clear blue like a sunny day with expressive specks of midnight. His cheeks grow a most delightful shade of pink while Sherlock watches him. He finally stops his observations when John clears his throat and sits up straight in his chair. A bit not good, he supposes.

“Janine is in surgery?” he asks in spite of its obvious answer.

“Yep. They’re setting the tibia and repairing the ankle. Should be finished in an hour or so,” John turns his head to face him. “Did we win the match-up?”

“We did,” Sherlock nods, admiring the brilliant smile his answer receives. His stomach does a flip.

“That’s good. The record stands,” John replies. “Janine was fretting on the way here.”

“Harry delivered an ass-kicker of a hit to 32,” Sherlock adds, his eyes sparkling with mirth, “and wasn’t called for it.”

“Janine will like hearing that,” John grins. They both chuckle quietly, an edge of tiredness to the sound. John sighs and looks at Sherlock, leaning his temple against the wall. “It’s going to be at least two or three hours before I’ll be able to see her, depending on how quickly she wakes from anesthesia. You don’t have to stay.”

“You don’t have to stay alone,” Sherlock replies in a quiet tone, not to disturb the couple. John lifts his head to look at him fully. They can both feel exhaustion ebbing and flowing from the other like the tide.  

“You and the ladies are leaving tomorrow morning,” John reminds him.

“Irrelevant,” Sherlock waves him off.

“Sherlock, you have to be there by nine,” John argues, trying to make him see reason.

“I want to stay, John,” Sherlock snaps in an angry and too loud voice. He glances toward the room’s other two occupants and they avert their eyes when he catches them staring. Sherlock shifts his body to look at John and effectively turns his back on them. When he faces him, John appears very unamused to say the least. 

“I want to stay with you,” Sherlock continues in a calmer voice.

John’s face goes all soft and he tilts his head. Though he says nothing at first, he places a gentle hand on Sherlock’s. It is warm and feels like home.

“There’s nothing I’d love more, but it’s already so late and getting the ladies through an airport is like herding cats,” John laughs when Sherlock cracks a smile. “That’s what you Americans call it, yeah?”

“It’ll be fine,” Sherlock protests while nodding in answer to the question. “They aren’t juvenile delinquents.”

“I don’t know,” John responds in mock skepticism. “I’m not so sure about Harry.”

Sherlock bursts out laughing, much to his own surprise. Not missing that fact, John starts in too and they both descend into quiet giggles when the receptionist gives them a stern look.

“It’ll be fine,” Sherlock repeats in a whisper. “Clara will help keep her on track. She’ll follow her anywhere.”

“True enough. They’re rather adorable that way,” John’s eyes twinkle.

“Don’t tell them you said that,” Sherlock chuckles darkly.

“Well, I don’t have a death wish now, do I?” John raises a knowing brow.

The giggles begin anew and only slow when Sherlock realizes John’s hand is still on his. He looks down at it solemnly and then meets John’s eyes again. He sees all the blues of the sea and his mind begins to catalog them all. He sees pure and utter fondness and friendship. He sees his future.

Sherlock turns his hands under John’s and twines their fingers together as he lifts them to his lips, pressing a kiss to John’s knuckles. The doctor lets out a breath and bites his lower lip. Sherlock’s eyes track every movement. He mirrors the action and then slowly, deliberately glides his tongue across his own upper lip, knowing his teasing has John’s full attention. He raises his eyes only after John’s breathless gasp reaches his ears. They stare at one another for a full minute before John clears his throat and breaks the spell. Sherlock lowers their hands, but does not let go.

“I wish you could come back with us,” he mutters.

“If all goes well, we’ll be able to follow in 24 hours. It won’t be long,” John reassures him.

Sherlock gives him a small smile and squeezes his hand. The corners of John’s mouth turn up. Sherlock feels… He feels happy and contented. His only source of disquiet is that John will not be with them on the plane. Janine may need him, but it still feels wrong. He does not want to leave John here.

“It’ll be fine, Sherlock. We’ll be fine,” John tells him and Sherlock looks at him thoughtfully.

“I would like to,” Sherlock murmurs into the space between them.

“What?” John’s brow knits in confusion.

“What we talked about before,” he clarifies. “To date. If you are amenable, that is.”

John’s brows rise to his hairline and his lips stretch into a beautiful grin. God, those lips. Sherlock wants to nibble and lick them until John is boneless, completely undone, taken apart piece by gorgeous piece. He wants to feel them move against his own mouth and his neck and his shoulder. He wants to see them wrapped around his rock hard cock.

Sherlock visibly jumps at the thought, startled by his raw desire for John. He jerks his hand away without meaning to and the doctor’s smile is gone when he looks at him.

“Hey, no, I want that. I want to date,” John says, his brows knitted in concern now. He nearly misses the tiny nod Sherlock gives him. John hesitates for a second before covering Sherlock’s hand with his again. An electric shock shoots up Sherlock’s arm at the touch, though he keeps himself from jumping this time. John is smiling now. A glorious, brilliant smile. “I’d absolutely love it.”

A wide grin instantly spreads across the coach’s face. Given the fact that John said he had never loved anyone he dated in the past, using the word so freely now and in this context makes Sherlock’s heart swell. He should not dare to hope; John truly cannot promise their relationship will be any different. Even so, Sherlock cannot help himself because maybe, just maybe it means John will realize his true feelings for him.

“I’d love that too,” Sherlock whispers as he rests his forehead against John’s.

---

Oh my god. Action-packed (I hope all the derby action was understandable), another injury (the plot thickens), and then a tender moment for our leading men. Awwwww. I know what you’re saying: Jane, this fucking chapter has it all! What is in store for Rock City? (Defeat? Glory?) What is in store for our intrepid duo? (Danger? Romance?) Only time will tell, my friends. Oh, to know the inner workings of The Mind of Jane. ‘Tis a scary place.

As always, I hope this has brought you all some distraction and solace. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading with me, loving these two idiots with me, and sharing this with me in these uncertain times. I love you all. Jane

@zentris @221b-carefulwhatyouwishfor @tooolforthissh--stuff @shana-movershaker @melmey-fanfics @louise175dk @technicallywiseoncns @underestimatemethatwillbefun @jhamishw @weirdlittlegoofball @superwholockpotterincamelot @superwholocklmt @ladidragonuniverse @kittenmadnessandtea @srebrnafh @welcometomyharddrive @annecumberbatch @kingdomofbrokenhearts @philliphooper @whodwantmeasaflatmate @gloriascott93 @vvaticancameoss @cow-mow @echosilverwolf @spazzz32 @absentmindedsstuff @swissmissing @shuukichan @maeliandmyself @wtgilsa  @red-pen-revolution @britishaccentfan @dischorde @plasticstrawsmuggler @youknowyougrow @one-thousand-splendid-stars @irina12maria

Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the list. My apologies to anyone I have neglected to this point. I pledge to do better.

[nayutai]

21 | TM

<< Part 20 | Part 22 >>

As an International Relations major minoring in Korean Studies, studying abroad in Seoul was never not an option for Riyan. Falling in love with an idol rapper was just an added bonus. She thinks life has finally dealt her a bomb ass hand of cards but one tweet on a random Tuesday might burst her bubble.

- and we’re live!! Head on over to my love bug @tae-tae-drives-me-kray’s profile for the rest of the tea so your cups may runneth over! Also.....the smut y’all asked for? It’s down below 🤪

Masterlist

SMUT WARNING: STOP HERE IF YOU AINT TRYNA READ SOME SEXY TIME STUFF

Riyan’s phone buzzes incessantly in her bra as she bounces Nadia in her lap. Her daughter’s enthusiastic giggles bring a smile to her face that only grows bigger at Jimin’s contact picture on her phone.

“Hey babe what’s up? Aye, aye stop that you have to wait your turn, ma’am.” She maneuvers the phone as far as possible from Nadia’s grasping hands.

“Tell my munchkin that I’ll FaceTime her in just a second but first I have to tell her gorgeous mother that Remy will be picking up our bundle of joy later this afternoon because we’re going on a date.” Nadia stops reaching for the phone and goes back to chewing on her teething ring as if she can hear and understand what Jimin is saying.

“Is that so, Mr. Park?”

“Yes it is ma’am so pack a bag for Miss Nadia and then you get all cute for me. Remy will be picking her up at six so I’ll try to get home before then to kiss her goodbye.”

***

True to his word, Jimin struts through the door 30 minutes before Remy is due to arrive. Your mouth waters as you take him in from head to toe. The sleek lines of his frame are accentuated perfectly in an all black suit that has to have been tailor made. His hair, which is currently jet black, is styled to perfection. The dark locks partially covering his forehead. Jimin whistles in appreciation at the way the maroon lace of your dress is draped over your curves.

His megawatt smile splits his face in two when Nadia starts makes a fuss from her play pen, interrupting the moment between you two. Jimin wastes no time scooping her up into his strong arms, peppering kisses all over her face. The sound of her daughter’s excited giggles makes Riyan’s heart soar. He looks so much like a doting father that you’d think he was Nadia’s dad if you didn’t know any better.

***

Dinner at the steakhouse Jimin has rented out for the evening is going amazingly well. He feeds Riyan a piece of meat that practically melts in her mouth. She moan out loud at how good it is.

“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this place from me.”

“If I’d known you’d react to the food like this I would’ve made time to bring you a lot sooner.” Riyan seductively licks a drop of sauce from her fork, looking Jimin in the eye the whole time. He swallows roughly at the sight as his pants start to grow tighter.

“You’re killing me.”

“I know.”

***

Jimin is sure that he’s on the verge of a mental breakdown. They’ve just ordered dessert and his heart is racing. Partly because of Riyan’s constant attempts to seduce him but mostly because of the small velvet box in his pocket.

The last spoonful of ice cream has made it’s way down Riyan’s throat and she’s growing a bit concerned at the look on Jimin’s face. Her normally carefree boyfriend looks positively stressed.

“Jimin, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine. I-...I just- fuck will you marry me? I planned out this long speech but my mind just went blank but I love you so much Riyan. I love our daughter. I can’t imagine a life without the two of you in it and I don’t want to. Will you please do me the honor of being my wife?”

Riyan freezes. Jimin’s hands are clutching both of hers. Her heart is screaming at her to say yes. Everything Jimin just said is reciprocated and all of the reservations she’d had the last time he’d brought up marriage no longer seem important.

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes I’ll marry you.”

***

Jimin presses his hand against the keypad next to the door. It takes him a few tries with Riyan’s lips attached to his but he’s finally able to blindly input the code. The two of them stumble inside. They make it to their bedroom on pure muscle memory alone.

“I love you. I love you so much.” Riyan whispers into the skin of Jimin’s neck as she greedily mouths at the skin there.

“Not nearly as much as I love you.” He replies. Their clothes land in random spots around the room as they carelessly strip each other.

Riyan squirms and moans as Jimin works her into a frenzy with his sinful tongue. He’s sure he’s never seen a more beautiful sight than her newly decorated left hand shoved into her mouth as she does her best to stifle her screams. It’s not much longer before she leaps over the edge and into the arms of a powerful orgasm.

Jimin makes his way back up to her lips, kissing every inch of skin he can reach along the way. Riyan bites down on his shoulder when he begins to inch his way inside her willing body. He groans low in his throat at the combined sensation of her teeth and her velvety walls so warm, wet, and tight around him.

“I’m so glad you’re mine.” He murmurs against her lips as he draws his hips back before pushing back in. The small whine that escapes her when he hits that particular spot makes his chest swell with pride.

Jimin steadily picks up speed until he’s all but fucking her through the mattress. He’s never been more thankful for the fact that they don’t have neighbors as he is right now since the headboard is slamming against the wall with every thrust of his hips. Her high pitched screams and the slapping sound of skin against skin intermingled in with the headboard makes for a symphony that he simply can’t get enough of.

Riyan is writhing beneath Jimin as she both clings to him and tries to escape the overwhelming pleasure singing through her veins. Her orgasm slams into her unexpectedly. She lets out a single drawn out yell. Black spots dancing across her vision. Her orgasm triggers Jimin’s and he joins her in the sea of ecstasy.

He collapses on top of her, sweaty and out of breath. They cling to each other desperately. Chaste kisses are pressed to damp skin as their heartbeats slowly regulate. Riyan’s phone rings from wherever it is she’d dropped her clutch. She’s tempted to just let whoever it is leave a message but then the song registers in her hazy mind as the one she’d picked for Remy. Seeing as how she currently has Nadia with her, Riyan scrambles out from under Jimin to find her phone. Remy has hung up and is calling back a second time when Riyan finally finds her phone.

“Hello.”

“I hate to ruin date night but we have a problem.”

“What’s going on? Is Nadia okay? Is she sick?” Riyan questions in rapid succession. Jimin is up and on the move immediately, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and tossing a pair at Riyan as well.

“I’m guessing she’s fine but Yoongi showed up with the police and took her so I can’t 100% confirm that” Riyan let’s out what could only be described as a Valkyrie shriek before launching her phone at the wall. Yoongi must really want to die today.

[fatandnerdy30]

The Itsy Bitsy Spider 29

Oh man....just one more chapter to go!! Then, I don’t know what I’ll do...but, I’ll keep you guys updated! Until then, please enjoy!!

Tony arrived at the base shortly after sunrise. After pushing his suit to the limits of its speed, he broke the sound barrier at least three times in succession, leaving the quinjet in the dust. "Tony, you have to slow down and think," Steve's voice came from the comms. "It won't do Peter any good  if you show up alone and start blasting your way into the facility. Think about his safety first." Of course the righteous Captain America was right, but Tony didn't want to hear it. "Calm down, old man. I'm going to scout the area before you get here." And if he got to smash a few heads,  that was all the better. "Only scout," Rogers told him, his voice serious. "Yes dad. End communications." "Tony you'd be-" the line went dead. "Friday, if I ever get that cranky in my old age, you have permission to end me." "Yes Boss," she replied a little too hastily. "Really? Well, that's rude." He focused on the facility as it came into view, the rapid movements on his HUD flicking, ever changing and giving Tony the information he needed. The mist from the early ocean breeze fogged his vision a little, making it hard for him to see. "Friday, scan for a shield or a power source for one." Already his defoggers were working to clear the helm. "Yes, Boss." The AI did a full scan of the facility as Tony passed over it, activating stealth mode so he wouldn't be seen. "They have the set up for it, but it has yet to be activated." Perfect. "Get me a body count outside of the facility." "I count fifteen guards, all armed." Fifteen? He could take that many in his sleep. He began landing procedures, his suit balancing out to hover just above the ground, his hands out. "Hey," Tony whistled to get the guard's attentions. "Yeah, you. Catch." His tracking system had targeted the men and he shot bullets from his suit, hitting each one in the kneecap, crippling them. "Told you to catch." With that, he flew up and took off his stealth mode just as the quinjet flew overhead, Steve jumping out even before it could land. He landed on one knee, slamming his shield into the ground to absorb the impact. "Just couldn't wait," he quipped. Tony didn't want to hear a whole speech. "Of course not, which is why I started the games early. They already lost. Friday counted fifteen, well, now twelve, guards on the ground. I didn't do an internal scan yet." "Make that ten," Natasha's voice came over the comms. "Eight," said Sam. They were knocking these guys out easily. Too easily. "Guys, don't you think this is too easy?" Tony voiced his fears. "I had noticed that...why do you think that is? I mean, they usually put up more of a fight than this." Sam had deployed Redwing and he shot four of the guards, watching them go down, unconscious. "Unless....guys! This isn't the main facility!" At that minute, something in the harbor splashed and Tony sped into the air to see a Hydra underwater vehicle race away, diving under the waves. "Oh no you don't. Guys, I'm going after it." "Tony, no! At least wait for Rhodey!" Steve's command was ignored and the mechanic raced to the harbor. "Friday, anything?" He was beginning to panic now. "No....It must have a stealth mode that makes me unable to track it." That made Tony's heart skip a beat. "Then we'll just have to look the old fashion way. How much air do I have?" "Thirty minutes. This model isn't made for underwater missions." "Remind to fix that." With that, he dove into the bay, his repulsors pushing him through the murky water, trying to find any trace of the black submarine. Was he too late? Suddenly, to his left he saw a trail of what looked like bubbles disappearing. "Found you trail of breadcrumbs..." He shot off in the direction of the trail. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Tony, I told you to wait for Rhodey!" Steve snapped, pressing his communicator in his ear. "How can I wait with one of my kids in danger?" Came the billionaire's answer. "Besides, Rhodey already has me on lock and on his way." "Could have told me that sooner," the captain muttered. "Just be careful. We'll check it out here. And Rhodey, make sure he doesn't blow up the ship. There might be more experiments on board." "Wasn't counting on letting him get that far," came the colonel's answer. With that, the line went dead and Steve sighed. "Avengers," he called to the team, waiting for them to group around him. "We've got no idea what could be inside, so once we breach, we'll have to be careful. Everyone, watch your backs." The group nodded and they broke up. Natasha went straight for the vents, slipping in silently. Sam went for an air approach and Steve....well, Steve took a page from Hulk. He smashed his way in. "I was right," Sam whispered over the comms. "There's nothing in here. It's just an empty building." Steve cursed under his breath. "Natasha? Anything from your end?" Suddenly, the wall was kicked in behind him and he turned, raising his shield. "The vents are even fake!" the assassin complained. "Who the hell goes to this much effort to create a building with fake vents? It's unnatural." Rogers sighed. "Looks like we're getting wet," he told the team and ran outside for the quinjet, the team behind him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Peter sat in his cage, playing with the cold food at his feet. The bacon had begun to gelatinize and he was drawing in the grease when the door slammed open, making him yelp and jump. "Righ this way, Mr. Bloom." It was the man that hit Morgan's voice. Peter grew angry when he saw his face and shot up, running to the front of the cage, banging on the glass. "You! You bastard!" He screamed, anger written on his tiny features. "Well, well, Mr. Ward...It looks like number seventy-three doesn't like you very much." Bloom walked through the door and instantly the boy stopped his banging. His red face was suddenly white washed. "Hello, seventy-three. How pleased I am that you remember me." He took steps towards the small rectangular cage on the silver table, always looking down at the being inhabiting it. "I trust you are well?" He asked. But, Peter couldn't answer him. Fear had closed his throat and he found his legs too shaky to hold him up and crumpled to the floor. He watched as the man gripped the cage in his hands, his breath pumping from him in great gasps as his fight or flight instinct kicked in, but he couldn't run, and he sure as hell couldn't fight this giant man. He could only stare as the cage was brought up to Bloom's eyes. The cold, peering eyes of the scientist brought back bad memories and tears started leaking from the boy's eyes, his bottom lip trembling. "You look good. But, it seems you haven't finished your breakfast. That's a good thing, though. You'll have to have an empty stomach for the procedure." The eyes took on a sorrowful gaze. "I wish we could have kept you alive, but we need to extract everything and anything that contains your DNA." With that, he brought the cage down and tucked it under his arm. Peter felt every step, every beat of the scientists heart....but he didn't care. He didn't want to die in a lab, cut open like a high school experiment. With a sob, he threw himself at the glass. He did it again and winced as his shoulder grew sore. Again and again, he tried to get out, but every time he hit it, the glass was left unchanged. How? How could he not get away, even with his abilities? With a snarl, he stuck to the walls and climbed up to the sealed top and hanging by his arms, he kicked at the clear top. But, just like the sides, he couldn't break it. He couldn't even put a dent in it. He dropped to the bottom, staring at the walls, an incredulous look on his face. So, this was really it....He was going to die..... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "If I may, what's in the case?" Bruce picked up the circular case, turning it over carefully to study it as if it were some kind of puzzle. "It's where I store my cars," Pym gently took the case. "We need to be outside for this." He walked out onto the porch and down the stairs. "Where can I set this up?" Clint, who was leaning against the railing, pointed to the spot next to a tree with a target on it. "Over there, in that field. It doesn't have anything growing in it yet and has the most room." "Perfect." hank walked over and set the case down, opening it. "Oh, I forgot." He turned toward the plane sitting on the grass in the front of the house. Pulling out a remote, he looked to Hope, who nodded and started walking towards it. "Hope you're not gonna try and change the channel," the archer joked, squinting against the sun. Pym just smiled and pushed the red button. Instantaneously the plane disappeared, or it seemed to. Hope bent down to retrieve the small model sized toy looking plane from the ground. "We have to work on the weight ratio," she said with a strained voice. "It's much heavier than the cars." "I know, I just haven't had the time." Hank then pulled out a hideous(in his opinion) brown van and placed it on the ground, clicking the blue button this time. "Amazing," said Banner, awe in his voice as he watched the toy become a life sized car. "Absolutely incredible. Is this the van that powers the Quantum tunnel? How do you control it?" He inched closer to the van. Even though this wasn't his area of expertise, he was still a curious scientist. "Yes, the van powers everything. Unfortunately I lost my lab a while ago in an explosion actually pertaining to the tunnel. Luckily, I was able to shrink it to its present size. I fixed the van up with a high powered battery in order to power the tunnel efficiently." "That is really fascinating....Is the batter lithium powered or nuclear based?" "Neither, actually. It's powered by Quantum energy that Scott pulls out. Which, is what he's going to do today. As soon as we have Peter back, I'll be able to take some blood samples and run diagnostics on him. You said his blood is very interesting, which I can't wait to see." He hoped the team would be able to get him back soon. He was worried about the small teen. "I'm sure he'll be fine," Bruce laid a hand on Pym's shoulder. "Don't worry." Hank nodded and turned to the van. "Scott? Can you please turn it on?" Lang nodded and jumped into the driver's seat and turned the ignition on. "Just needs to warm up." As he was getting out, his hand accidentally hit the horn, sounding the playful tone. "Sorry.." Clint burst out laughing at the hat dance that played. "That's your secret weapon? Oh my God...Best blackmail ever." "Bruce, can you set these up over there?" Hank handed the doctor a few stands that were miniaturized. "And  don't touch anything until I say so." Banner nodded and placed the mini stands in the clearing, close enough to the van that they would be able to reach with wires. "Here?" Hank nodded and pushed the accelerator, unshrinking them. "Now, we attach the wires and Scott can go get the energy we'll need. I'm going to need multiple cans this time." Scott nodded and jumped into the passenger's seat and pressed a few buttons. A row of energy canister's popped up from the console and he grabbed the whole row, another row appearing behind it. "Is one row enough?" "Should be. Come on, I want to get this over with so we can help get Peter back!" Hank was already hooking the wires into the computers that lead to the van, booting them up. He typed in his code and  waited for the Pym logo to show up, then opened up the necessary files, inputting the codes. "All right, we're good to go. Scott, you ready?" "Ready and waiting." "Okay. Hope, I'll-" "You need me on the other computer, I know. Who's going to man the third, though?" "I can help, if you tell me what to do," Bruce said, taking a step towards the computers. "I'm actually really good with technology." "Good, then take the one next to Hope. She can tell you what to hit." He was going to be watching Scott's progress on the screen, as well as how much energy he was able to absorb. "We're ready," Came Hope's voice. "Ready here....okay. Going Subatomic in three....two...one..." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The process of going that small had freaked Scott out for the longest time, but now, as he passed through the tunnel, he found himself actually enjoying the peace and serenity of the space with no concept of time. As he shrunk, he stayed away from the dark tunnels,. not wanting to get caught in a vortex or in a different time line. Or even a different realm. That was the scariest part about this. Once he was clear of those, though, he kind of just floated. A rainbow of colors, turning through the ever shifting kaleidoscope of the space. "Scott, mic test," came Hank's voice over his comms. Scott immediately answered once he found his head. "This is a go for Scott Lang. Opening up the first container." He opened the absorber, watching the Leptons jump in and out of the crystalline particles shifting around him, reminding him of jumping fish, beautiful and hypnotic. Once one was full, he got another out, attaching the full ones to his belt until his waist was almost decked out. "I think Bruce would love to see this sometime. Maybe we can get him into a suit, hmm?" "Don't push it, Scott. How we doing? I see you've almost completely filled the last container." "Just finished loading up the last one. Ready to be extracted and back to normal." He said and looked around the terrifying beauty of the realm between realms. "Extraction in three....two....one..." Scott was assaulted by the vertigo from growing so quickly, but it passed once he was out of the tunnel. "All full and ready for you." He clicked open his mask and took a deep breath of fresh air. He had air while in the tunnel from his suit, but even after just a few minutes recirculated air got stale fast. "Thank you, Scott. Now, let's get going. We've got a boy to save." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Bloom sat in the car, watching the scenery pass with a small smirk on his lips. By now, Stark was probably chasing down the dummy lab, now miles away from the shore line. And by the time the Avengers figured it out, Bloom would be safely in the air. It was a goof thing he kept a stash of his lab equipment with him. He would like to get started as soon as possible. Looking down, he saw the boy curled up in the corner of the glass cage, arms wrapped around his legs. It was then he noticed something on his wrists. "What is this?" Picking up the cage, he peered inside, squinting his eyes to see the boy's wrists. "Seventy-three. What is that on your wrists?" Angry brown eyes looked up at him for a fraction of a second before disappearing behind his knees again. Silent treatment? "Fine. I'll remove them eventually." Bloom sat back, placing the cage on the floor, and shoved it under his seat. If the subject didn't want to cooperate, then he would be in the dark. "How much longer until we meet the plane?" "About ten minutes," Ward told him, opening one eye. "Nervous?" "I am never nervous. I just do not like being so close to Stark and his team." He sat back, his foot hitting the case. He heard scrabbling from inside and then nothing. Whatever. He didn't have the patience to check on seventy-three. He wanted to board the plane and get off the ground. It was safe in the air. Ten minutes passed like nothing and soon, Bloom was reaching for the case, shoving it under his arm roughly and climbing out. "Get the engine started!" he screamed and ran to board it. "Hurry up, Ward!" "I'm coming, Mr. Bloom. Calm down." Ward climbed the steps and as soon as he was in, he reached behind him and pulled the chain to close the door, locking it in place. "Now we can go." "Take off!" he screamed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Peter watched in horror as his last chance at escape was closed, pressing his hands to the glass he watched as the world became the inside of a small plane. Soon, he was shoved under the scientists seat. And there he sat, alone in the dark, dreading his future. Peter's ears popped, signalling they were rising and leveling out until it stopped. A sob caught in his throat and he curled up on his side in a fetal position, crying into his knees. "May...Mom.....Dad...." he whispered. He was scared. When they had been in the air for a while, Bloom pulled out the clear cage and leered in at the boy, who stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. "It is time." At that, Peter started shaking and once again tried to escape from the box, but like last time, he wasn't able to break the glass. Not even a crack. But, Bloom had to put his hand in, didn't he? That could be Peter's chance! It seemed like the Parker Luck was working though, as he watched a tube be attached to the top of the cage. What? Suddenly a small slit appeared and Peter felt air hit his head, which was odd. Then it hit him. That wasn't air! "No!" he screamed, beating his fists against the clear plates, begging Bloom with his eyes. "Please! Please, don't do this!" Slowly his muscles began to weaken as he felt his body slipping under the anesthesia. He tried forcing himself to stay awake, but it was impossible and soon blackness swallowed him.

@sparrowrider @midas-or-khaos @letsbeinspiredby @6inchicon @ixlovexirondad @carttorchdeatth

[hgthephoenix]

Pictation Guesses

hello! here we go again folks...welcome to a whole new feud meta (meta, not meat, dammit autocorrect).

people, including myself, have been analyzing the pictures Keith draws, and it seems like there’s a lot of foreshadowing in those pictures, and in the episode as a whole...but after seeing a post somewhere about the meaning behind chopsticks (forgive me, i have no idea where it is 😭) i thought i’d look at the other words Lance guesses to see if they had a hidden meaning as well. 

at first i thought i was being ridiculous, and i thought i wouldn’t find anything in my search...surely they just picked random words for Lance to say. i mean, alligator? really? what can you possibly get from that? but there was also the other part of me that was screaming about how if the IMAGES had significance, why couldn’t the WORDS? after all, a lot of the time Keith’s drawings did not look at ALL like Lance’s guesses, so maybe, just maybe, the words they picked were deliberate.

yeah, no way in hell is that a thermos, Lance.

so with low expectations, i started to look up the words Lance says during the game...aannndddd i promptly went into shock when i started to see results that lined up. so here i am, probably spewing nonsense at you here, but i mean, i think this is QUITE INTERESTING, to say the least, i think there’s a lot of foreshadowing that can be pulled out of the words alone.

alright, without further ado...

Chicken

so aside from the bird, there’s another meaning to the word chicken: a coward...and i think that’s a pretty relevant, if ironic, word. 

the word “coward” reminds me a lot of episode 6, where they’re lost in space. there’s a lot of tension between them in that episode, and tensions between certain characters are brought to light. there’s even one line in the episode where the word “coward” is used specifically.

the word “chicken” potentially refers to this interaction between Keith and Hunk. Keith calls Hunk a coward, but Hunk is actually being the bravest of all of them in this moment. he’s standing up to Keith, unfazed by his hurtful words.

Hunk calls Lance, Keith, and Allura brave warriors, but in the moment, their roles are reversed. the three of them are the ones being cowardly, not Hunk. there’s a LOT of tension between them, and they need to resolve it in season 8. this post does a great job expanding on this theory. so i think the word chicken could refer to the three of them avoiding resolving the tension around each other, and could foreshadow more buildup before their relationships are ultimately resolved.

Lance then goes on to guess various versions of chickens in rapid succession:

what i noted about two of these terms is that they just screamed “male” at me. at first glance, it’s just three different birds, but i mean, a rooster is pretty much just a male chicken, and a chicken...with a beard? c’mon Lance, your gay is showing. XD

the third new term, hawk, was a bit more interesting. 

some of these terms seemed pretty relevant. “clear vision” and “strong connection with spirit” i can see referring to Keith’s strange power with quintessence. he’s able to literally see other people’s quintessence, and can sense it too. he definitely has some sort of spiritual connection that the others, save Allura, do not, and i have no doubt that this will be a part of the plot of s8.

whenever i see the word “focus,” i think of Shiro telling Keith “patience yields focus,” a phrase that’s extremely important to Keith’s character development. as for “taking the lead when the time is right,” this could apply to both Keith and Lance. both of them have stepped up into the leadership position, even if they doubted themselves initially. by the end of s7, they essentially split the role between them, and i think that this dynamic will continue into s8.

Chopsticks

this is the word that prompted me to make this post. yeah, no matter how you look at that drawing, there’s just...no way you can possibly get chopsticks out of it. so what’s the significance of chopsticks, particularly in Chinese culture?

reportedly (forgive me if this is off) the Chinese traditionally gave chopsticks most frequently to lovers, and chopsticks represent a pair. hmm. so Lance yelling ‘chopsticks’ at Keith, definitely seems to hint at something there...and then he even went on to yell “space chopsticks!” hmm who do we know who love each other and are in space???

moving on...

Dog

this one’s good. aside from the simple domesticated dog, like with “chicken,” there’s another definition to the word.

follow someone’s movements closely and persistently? “Don’t follow in his footsteps?” yeah, that’s definitely a kick at Lance following Keith everywhere (like a dog lol) after told explicitly not to by Iverson wayyyy back in the first episode of the show.  that’s also one of my favorite lines in the whole series, i mean, it’s so ironic. Lance is told not to follow Keith right at the beginning of the show, and then he proceeds to follow him without fail, they eventually become an unstoppable team together, and they co-lead Voltron...wow. this word definitely refers to the two of them always mirroring each other, which will no doubt continue into s8.

Pepperoni

um, how could there possibly be another meaning behind the word “pepperoni?” well, i looked up the simple definition, and:

pepperoni, quite simply, is red. it’s red, and has to do with fire and smoke, like the Red Lion (jesus christ am i really comparing a pizza topping to a mechanical space cat). i don’t there’s much else here except for the references to the Red Lion and it being the Guardian of Fire.

Alligator 

like with “hawk,” i looked up any potential meanings behind the animal, and here’s what i found.

again, a lot of this seems to relate directly to Keith and Lance. a huge part of the series was dedicated to Keith discovering his true self, he is definitely calm under pressure, and for sure has strength and power, more so than any of the other paladins. all of these words seems to refer to Keith’as arc: he has already done all of this. 

but it could also to refer to someone else who’s about to discover himself, the one person who still has a good chunk of his arc left. Lance is still finding his inner power, and this could foreshadow that happening in s8.

Cave/Windy Cave

quite literally, they end up in a cave in the next episode, and were in one two episodes prior as well. so this could definitely refer to that. 

but Keith, specifically, is the one who found the cave in episode 2, and he spent a good chunk of episode 5 racing around in one with Kosmo and Macidus...so what’s the significance of that? why so many references to caves and Keith?

well, the other definition for cave is a verb: to submit under pressure, frankly, to cave in.

who does that most often in the show? yep, Keith. he does this with Lance and Lance only. i actually made two posts about this (here) and (here) which expand on how he can never say no to Lance. Keith caves quite often to him, and he values Lance’s opinion immensely. 

and when you add the word “windy” to that, it just seems to apply to their relationship even more.

i’d say their relationship is definitely windy: they constantly run into bumps and again, there’s a lot of tension between them, as well as with Allura. in a way, the air is stormy between the three of them, especially with Lance and Keith, and this could foreshadow a climax before all of the problems in their relationship are resolved. this post foreshadows a fight between them in s8, something i could definitely see happening.

last but not least,

Thermos

okay, another weird one. but after looking this word up, i just. couldn’t. stop. laughing. like, just look at the origin of the word.

“HOT?” bigger, cooler, grizzled...seems like it fits right in jfsjdkfhsdlkhkl. seriously though, it could refer to that, but it could also be foreshadowing a moment that involves heat. like with pepperoni, thermoses are related to heat, and so is the Red Lion (the lion tied to both Lance and Keith). it could also foreshadow a moment between them and Red, or something else happening to any of the paladins related to fire or heat.

...and that’s a wrap. still think i’m going crazy? well, i hope you were at least a little intrigued by this. i feel like most of this is a stretch, but it’s certainly suspicious how these words are interconnected and seem all connect to the other common points of the feud: Keith and Lance’s relationship development, tension between them and Allura, Lance and Keith being future lovers, Keith and his quintessence powers, the Red Lion, etc. when s8 comes i will be looking for these connections, for sure.

[ponticle]

Week Eight [11 Weeks - Anderstair Challenge]

[masterpost]

[read it on ao3]

Chapter Summary: Alistair and Anders bury the hatchet on their last fight before brunch with Cullen and Dorian.

“I’m ready to try again, if you are.” I clear my throat and swallow hard.

Alistair looks at me consideringly. “You came all the way here to tell me that?”

I nod.

“Why?” he asks.

“Because I don’t want to break up again,” I explain. I step into the doorway and wrap my arms around him in what turns out to be a squeezing hug. “I love you and I don’t want to fall into old habits.”

He kisses the side of my head and whispers, “You didn’t have to drive all the way here to tell me that… I had no intention of letting you get away.”

We pull back enough to look into each other’s eyes.

“Are we okay?” I ask.

He nods. “Yeah… we’re okay… I might punch Hawke when I see him, though.”

“Please don’t… it wasn’t really his fault.” As soon as I’ve said that, I realize that doesn’t paint me in a flattering light. “I mean… it wasn’t really anyone’s fault.”

He glares at me, but he’s still smiling underneath it.

“Listen… can I stay with you tonight?” I ask.

He nods.

“Okay, well, I need to go find a parking space—I’m double parked and it’s likely that the city of Brooklyn has already towed my car away…” I laugh. “Driving into the city was probably a mistake, but I couldn’t wait for the train.”

“Yikes…” he says. “I’ll come down and help you find one. Sometimes there are spots two blocks over.”

The next morning, we wake up together when Dorian calls Alistair’s phone. Alistair picks it up on speaker.

“Yeah?” he growls.

“Hello, Sunshine…” says Dorian. “Where are you?”

“Oh shit…” Alistair breathes. “I totally forgot.”

“Sorry, Dorian,” I say. “I kept him up really late last night.”

“Is that Anders?” asks Dorian.

“Yeah…” I say.

“What are you doing in our neighborhood?” he asks. “Did you wash out of school?”

I know he’s teasing, but he wouldn’t be if he knew I washed out once before. It’s not a funny joke. Alistair kisses my cheek in a clandestine act of solidarity.

“Well, Alistair is supposed to be meeting us for brunch—about ten minutes ago,” says Dorian.

“Sorry, Dor,” says Alistair. “Are you still at your place?”

“Yes… but at this point, we should meet wherever we want to go or we’re going to have to wait in line for an hour,” he says.

“Okay—what about that place on Gold Star that I like?” asks Alistair.

“Yes—half an hour. Don’t be late.” Dorian hangs up.

As we walk toward the restaurant, hand in hand, it occurs to me that we haven’t spent any significant time with Dorian and Cullen as a couple. In all the years we’ve known each other, I’ve mostly just hated Cullen from afar. Dorian is funny, but I am kind of scared of him. He’s exactly the type of person who terrifies me into silence—afraid that I’m not witty or bright enough to keep up. The fact that Alistair routinely tells me how brilliant he is doesn’t help.

“Are you ready for this?” asks Alistair.

“What do you mean?”

“Cullen and Dorian are going to judge the shit out of you,” he says. “They’re the worst.”

“Why are you friends with them again?” I laugh.

He jabs with me an elbow, but then shrugs. “I don’t know, actually.”

We both laugh.

“I think I’m going to be fine… after all, you like me,” I say.

“I do, actually…” he pushes me with his shoulder. “So here’s my advice—destabilize them quickly. Ask them about Mia right off the bat and they’ll melt into goo about her before they have a chance to scrutinize why you’re here.”

“Does it matter if they know why I’m here?”

He looks embarrassed. “Well… they know we’ve had kind of a rocky past…”

“Oh.”

“It’s not like they think we shouldn’t be together… they just don’t know if we’re going to last,” he admits.

I’m flushed. It isn’t that I’m specifically angry—I just want to prove them wrong—so badly it hurts. After all, my friends have voiced similar concerns along the way.

“They don’t want us to break up… they’re just worrying about me…” he adds.

I laugh, “That’s rich—coming from the guy who almost broke us up…”

“That was a lifetime ago,” argues Alistair.

I huff.

Alistair steps in front of me so I’ll stop walking. “This is exactly opposite of what we should be doing right now… we need to be a united front. Please, Andy… I want them to see us at our best.”

I feel my shoulders slump. “Fine.”

“Besides… I’ll owe you.” He winks.

That finally nets him a small smile. I’m extremely susceptible to flirting.

“Okay… let’s do this.”

“Finally,” says Dorian around the corner.

Cullen, who is hovering over his shoulder, smiles when he sees us.

“Hi,” I say, nodding to both of them. “Where’s your daughter?”

Cullen smiles at me. “With my parents. They are in town for the week and offered to take her this morning so we can be adults.” He looks at Dorian like he’s the best person he’s ever seen in his life.

I don’t want to, but I feel insanely jealous at that look. As if Alistair doesn’t look at me like that almost every time I see him. Of course… he didn’t in the last week… not until I chased him across state lines. I swallow around a lump in my throat. I feel like this is tenuous—I’m playing a part instead of just living.

A host comes to get us before I can fall further into my internal spiral of self-doubt—thankfully. We’re shown to a booth in the back, right next to a huge window. It’s freezing outside, but the sun is reflecting off the snow everywhere. It’s bright and warm in the booth.

“So… what are you two up to this weekend?” asks Cullen.

Alistair and I look at each other. It feels like we’re already about to crumble, but I remember what he said—that I should destabilize them quickly—so I default to a joke.

“I don’t think you really want to know.” I smirk.

Dorian laughs. Cullen’s eyes widen fractionally.

Then I pull it back, “How’s Mia doing these days?” I ask.

Cullen’s expression softens considerably. “She’s great…” He pulls his phone out to show me some recent pictures. Even though Dorian was the first one to show me pictures of her, I gather that Cullen is the more frequent photographer. He has dozens of shots of her playing in the snow, eating messy food, and rolling around on the floor in the midst of mountains of stuffed animals. When he’s shown me forty or fifty slides of her in rapid succession, the server interrupts us.

“Can I get you something to drink?” she asks.

We order one by one. I settle on a highly savory bloody mary—it has a clamato base.

“Anyway… enough about Mia,” says Dorian. “Let’s be adults for an hour.”

Cullen shrugs and puts his phone away.

We all stare at each other. Because our drinks haven’t come yet, we don’t have much to do with our hands or mouths. I find myself counting ceiling tiles.

“So… how’s school going?” asks Cullen.

It takes me a second to realize he’s talking to me.

“Oh… it’s good—I’m tired… but I’m getting through it. I’m about to pick my residency for next year,” I answer.

“Wow… I feel like that went by really fast…” he says.

It did—he doesn’t know that I already had a whole year under my belt. To him, it probably seems like I’ve skipped a year somehow.

Alistair interrupts to save me. “I feel like life is going by way too fast these days… don’t you feel like Mia is growing every time you see her?”

Cullen smiles and looks at something in the distance—a memory maybe? As much as I want to keep hating him, I can’t—he’s adorable about his little girl. If I ever have kids, I hope I feel one tenth of the love he feels for little Mia. I wonder if I will—have kids. As that thought occurs to me, I find myself looking at Alistair lopsidedly. If I squint, I can picture him swinging a little boy in our back yard.

“I know what you mean,” says Dorian, who isn’t so easily distracted, “but hasn’t it only been three years since you started, Anders?”

Oh no. I’m caught.

“It has… Anders is in an accelerated program,” lies Alistair. “It’s a new addition at BU… just in the last five years.”

I wonder how that’s going to go over, but Dorian accepts it as fact almost instantly. He nods at me. “You must be even more tired than we were, then.” He smiles and looks up, just as our drinks arrive.

I have never been so happy to have something to do with my mouth… well… something that I can do in public.

“I am pretty tired… but I’m almost there…” I say. “If I can just get through the rest of this term, I’ll be golden.”

“So what are you going to specialize in?” asks Cullen.

“I’ve actually decided on sports medicine,” I say.

Alistair’s eyes snap up to me like this is news to him.

“I was going back and forth between ortho and sports… and I finally landed on sports med because it really works with my training background,” I explain. Then I turn to Alistair and cup his cheek in my hand. “Besides… I know the best orthopedist in the world if someone needs a referral.”

Everyone laughs except Alistair, who turns beet red and can’t seem to think of anything to say at all.

“That sounds perfect for you, Anders,” says Cullen. “I actually bet we’ll be seeing some of the same patients…”

“Really?” I don’t know what he means.

“Yeah… I see a lot of elite athletes—the pressure is a lot for them,” he explains.

“Oh. I can absolutely imagine that.”

“Do you have a particular sport in mind?” Cullen asks.

“Not yet… but I’ve applied to a residency that has a contract with Boston Ballet,” I say. “If I get that one… maybe I’ll work mostly with dancers.”

“Well, they will definitely need psychiatric help,” cackles Dorian. “I dated the premier danseur of Ballet West in college… what a diva.”

Cullen rolls his eyes.

Alistair laughs. “Didn’t he come to visit us in our first apartment, Dor?”

Dorian’s expression goes flat. “You must be thinking of someone else.”

Alistair scowls. I have a feeling that ballet dancer did visit them, but Dorian isn’t willing to admit it with his husband sitting on his left. I wonder why. Their relationship is so confusing to me. It isn’t as if my own relationship is crystal clear—not by a long shot—but I don’t really understand Cullen or Dorian as individuals, let alone as a pair.

“I hope you get it, Anders,” says Cullen.

“He will,” interrupts Alistair. He looks at me encouragingly. “He’s one of the best in his class.”

“How do you know that?” I ask.

“You told me,” he deadpans.

Everyone laughs.

“No… I still have a bunch of friends in the department—I did some digging.”

“You did not.” I punch his shoulder playfully.

He shrugs. I’m not sure what that means.

“Seriously, Anders,” says Cullen. He looks right at me. “Good luck.”

When we make eye contact it occurs to me that he’s very hard to look at up close. He’s too attractive and too put-together-looking for this kind of scrutiny. As bitter as I (still) am, I totally get why it took Alistair a while to kick him out of the apartment all those years ago. He’s compelling.

“Thank you.”

Dorian clears his throat. “So what’s next for you two?”

Alistair and I look at each other. It occurs to me all at once that he hasn’t told them he’s leaving Brooklyn.

“Well,” Alistair clears his throat and puts a hand on my knee. “I’m moving back to Boston.”

Dorian’s mouth falls open. “You’re doing what?!”

“I’m moving back to Boston…” repeats Alistair.

Dorian rolls his eyes, but Cullen looks like he expected this.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner… but we’re…” he looks at me. “We’re not going to live apart anymore… it’s been too many years like this…”

I feel my face crack into a ridiculous smile. I can’t believe how much I love him.

“I knew that,” says Dorian. He rolls his eyes again. “I just thought you’d have the sense to stay here—in the best city in the world.”

“I can’t…” says Alistair. “Anders needs to stay in Boston until he’s licensed…”

I’m not super thrilled that he’s blaming me for this, but it’s true…

“Besides… you know I love Boston…” he adds.

“Yeah, yeah…” says Dorian. “I guess we’ll visit whenever we can…”

Cullen puts an arm around Dorian’s shoulder. The gesture confuses me at first, but then Dorian does something that instantly changes my opinion of him forever. He runs the cuff of his sleeve across his cheeks. Is he crying? Oh my god—he is. He’s making such a fuss about this because he’s going to miss Alistair. If I weren’t on the inside of the booth, I would stand up and hug him. Alistair really does have a best friend.

“We’ll get together every month,” says Alistair. He looks sort of teary too.

“We had better…” says Dorian. “And you better take care of him, Anders… he’s terrible at handling himself…”

We smile at each other and I know—we’re all friends now.

[play-read-write]

A Summoned Rose

Fandom: RWBY Characters: Ruby Rose, Weiss Schnee, Winter Schnee Words: 2243 Description: Weiss Schnee, a girl from a wealthy family of summoners, finally attempts her first summon. It does not go as she expected. (summoner AU, chap 2 here)

“Okay Weiss, you can do this.” Weiss says to herself. She stands read and holds out her rapier, pointed forward. A circle appears on the ground, spinning slowly. “Come on, you’re better than this, you can do it.” Her breathing starts to come heaver as she focuses on the circle, pouring her energy into it without moving at all. Then it happens, like a string snapping under tension she feels the connection cut off and knows she has it.

Vines come up from the ground in the center of the now vanished circle. They spread out and grow, thorns coming up and roses blooming. The petals are stripped from them in a whirlwind, circling around the center and forming into a mass. The ball of petals rises up, and then opens not as petals, but as a person, uncurling from the fetal position, a long red cap hanging from their back as they lower to the ground. She touches down on her feet, her cape blowing behind her despite there being no wind, and everything returns to normal.

Weiss watches as the girl looks up, and opens her eyes. Silver, she notes, not a color she’d seen on any human. For a moment they just stare at each other, until finally one of them breaks the tension.

“Um, hello.” The girl says, looking at Weiss. “Am I… Did you just summon me?”

“Oh, uh yes, yes I did.” Weiss says.

The girl pauses for a moment and blinks a few times before a big grin spreads across her face. “Awesome.” She says, and turns, looking around. “So, this is Remnant? Wow, it’s pretty. Is this your house? It’s big. Are all houses this big?”

Weiss’ jaw hangs for a moment, surprised by the rapidity of the questions. “Well, yes this is Remnant, and yes this is my home. No not all are this big though.”

“Cool. Ohhh a view.” She says, and then vanishes in a burst of wind, leaving rose petals, and a very stunned Weiss, behind.

Weiss looks around and sees the girl now on the balcony outside, somehow having managed to cross the distance and open the door in less than a second. “Um, excuse me, could you come back inside?” Weiss asks. She doesn’t move as she the girl comes back in and sits on her bed. When she had imagined a successful summon she certainly hadn’t thought of this.

Of course, she knew how summoning worked, and how each summon had a personality the same as humans, but she’d honestly expected something a bit more, well formal. An armor clad knight kneeling before her, a tall broad shouldered man with an axe, or maybe a mage with her staff alight with power. She certainly hadn’t expected a little girl in a cape.

“So,” Weiss begins, “You’re a summon then?” She then internally flinches at the stupid question, of course she was.

“Yep.” The girl says, “I guess that makes you a summoner.”

“Yes, that is correct. So, what is your name?”

“Oh, right.” She says and jumps off the bed. She walks over and holds out her hand. “Hello, I’m Ruby Rose, good to meet you.” She says as if she’d practiced it dozens of times.

Weiss shakes her hand for a moment. “Hello Ruby. My name is Weiss Schnee.”

“Schnee… Schnee.” Ruby says, looking down like she’s thinking, then she snaps her head back up. “Oh! Schnee! You guys are that super rich summoner family right? I heard about you.”

Weiss wasn’t even a bit surprised by that. Even if her family hadn’t been a line of summoners she was sure the Otherworld would have heard of them. Whether on the physical realm or the magical one, the Schnee name reached far. “Yes, that’s us. Owners and founders of the Schnee Dust Company, provider of all things magical and mundane.”

Ruby lets out a snort of laughter, “That sounds like an advertisement.” She says, and then looks around again. “So… what do we do now?”

“Excuse me?” Weiss asks, raising an eyebrow. She had expected her summon to be more knowledgeable, even if she was small a summons age and strength weren’t exactly limited to their appearance.

“Oh, sorry.” Ruby says, “It’s just, well, this is my first summoning.” She looks down, touching her index fingers together. “I’ve never been to Remnant before.”

Weiss blinks rapidly a few times. She hadn’t ever considered the fact that summons had lives in their own plane. Young ones had to exist, but she’d never heard about that, just the grand power and adventures summoners and their summons could harness. Of course, this left them in a somewhat awkward position. “Actually,” Weiss says, “It’s my first time too.”

“Huh? Really?” Ruby says, looking up again.

“Yes, you’re the first time I managed to summon. I’ve been trying to actually perform one for months now.”

“Wow. Uh, then… Oh, I know.” Ruby says, “We celebrate! We both managed to take part in our first summoning, and at the same time! We can celebrate together.”

“Alright, we can celebrate I suppose.” Weiss says, “But first I have some questions.”

“Sure, shoot.” Ruby says.

“Well, I’ve studied my summoning but I’ve never actually met a summon before. What can you tell me of the Otherworld?”

“Otherworld?” Ruby seems confused for a moment, “Oh, you mean my home. We just called it, well, home. I’m not really sure how to explain it. That’d be like asking you to explain Remnant. Though it’s really different here. Feels kind of confining, back at home there was magic like, everywhere. This is kind of like stepping out of a water sphere and into a mist though. There’s so little of it. The world too, just like, everything. It all feels so stiff. Everything was always changing back at home. Sure some parts are more consistent than others, but here it’s like… I can’t really describe it. Think like, if you were walking somewhere and time wasn’t a thing anymore so nothing moved at all. That’s what this is kind of like.”

Weiss looked away, processing that. Despite her summons rather colorful way of talking, she kind of got the picture. “That’s… enlightening in a way. So, as a summon, what can you do?”

“Oh, I’ve got a few tricks.” Ruby says, “I’m fast, well for my experience. Watch.” She then vanishes in a whirl of rose petals again, only to appear holding a cookie a moment later. “There’s food in the kitchen. I took one. Can I keep it? I’ve never had human food before.”

“Um, sure. Go ahead. That’s a cookie, in case you were wondering.”

“Cookie huh?” She says. She looks at it and takes a bite, chewing slowly. Her eyes widen and she swallows it. She looks at Weiss, and then the cookie, and then at Weiss again. “I think I just… what do humans say, had a religious experience?”

“So you liked it?”

“Human food is AMAZING!” She blurts out and eats the rest of the cookie in one bite, letting out a moan at the taste. “Oh wow, that is, it’s like eating happiness! Can I get more of those?”

“Sure, when we celebrate, later.” Weiss says.

“Yes!” Ruby puts both arms in the air.

“Is there anything else you can do? Besides be fast I mean.”

“Oh, yeah, this. I like this.” Ruby says and straightens her posture. She holds out one arm and focuses on it. Vines form starting at her palms and moving under her arm and out away from her hand, twisting around each other. They move behind her back and out of sight, while the other direction ends a bit away from her hand. A rose blooms at the end, and just behind it a thorn grows towards the ground, large and curved with the tip touching barely. Then in a burst of petals the whole thing changes to form a large, metal, red and black scythe.

“Well that’s certainly interesting.” Weiss says, staring at the large weapon. Every summon was trained in combat back in their own world before being allowed to travel through the tears a summoner could make, but it seemed the unexpected was the normal with this girl, as a large scythe was from Weiss’ first guess. “I suppose you know how to use that?”

“Yep.” Ruby says with a smile. “I mean I’m still in training, but I know what I’m doing, I promise.”

“I suppose I’ll believe you.” Weiss says, “I doubt you could have come through if you weren’t somewhat ready.”

“Right. Now that you’ve summoned me once, you should be able to find me again easily. Keep bringing me back, and I’ll show you what I can do.”

“Very well then. You can put that away now. I guess we can… go… celebrate.” Weiss says, blinking rapidly as her vision blurs.

“Hey, are you okay?” Ruby asks, her voice tinged with concern.

“I’m not sure.” Weiss says and she stumbles forward. She feels herself fall and her vision goes black before she even hits the ground.

…

Weiss lets out a groan as she wakes up, a dull throbbing all over her body, especially her head, as it protests being awake. She reaches up and rubs her forehead, opening her eyes. Realizing her mistake she immediately shuts her eyes as the light makes her head hurt even worse. Instead she focuses on feeling. She feels the soft bed underneath her, covers over her, and a pillow beneath her head. It wasn’t hard to figure out she was in her room.

Then comes sounds, not much at first, but then feet, in heels, walking towards her room. Her door opens and she sighs as someone comes in. “Hello? Who’s there?” She asks.

“Oh, you’re awake.” Comes the visitor’s voice.

“Winter?” Weiss asks.

“Yes, it’s me. Are you okay? I was just coming to check on you.”

“I don’t know. What happened?” Weiss asks, “I hurt everywhere.”

“I was going to ask you that. Klein found you lying on the floor. He says he heard someone yell for help and came running, only to find you on the floor when he arrived. “

“Is that why I’m in bed in my day clothes?”

“Yes, we didn’t want to undress you after all.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.” Weiss says. She risks opening her eyes again and finds it not as bad as before, though it does make the throbbing in her skull a bit worse.

“So, you don’t know what happened at all? We found the balcony door open and a small scratch on the floor, like from a blade, so we assumed someone may have attacked, but could find no evidence of injury. You didn’t seem hurt.”

“I was, uh, what was I doing?” Weiss tries to think through the pain, “The balcony was open because… summoning.”

“You were attempting to summon again?”

“I didn’t just attempt it.” Weiss says, her memories coming back now, “I did. I managed to summon.”

“Very good, Weiss. I’m impressed. So much so that I’ll wait until later to chastise you for doing something so risky on your own.”

“Sorry.” Weiss says, “I just wanted to keep trying. I wasn’t going to give up.”

“And your determination is admirable. However I believe we just found the solution to our mystery. When you summoned them you didn’t dismiss them quickly did you?”

“No, I didn’t. I was talking with them, asking questions.”

“And there is the problem. Your first successful summoning is quite the ordeal, both in that it is a great accomplishment, and that it is quite exhausting. Then maintaining their presence here, you exhausted yourself.”

“Oh gods.” Weiss says, “I’m an idiot. I should have dismissed her sooner.”

“Yes you should have. You also shouldn’t have been attempting to summon on your own in the first place. However I will congratulate you on your success. You’ve been working hard for it.”

“Thank you, Winter.”

“So, who was your first summon? Would I know them? I’d like to know what my younger sister is capable of.” Winter says in a more casual tone.

“No, you wouldn’t.” Weiss says, “It was just a girl, she looked younger than me. It was the first time she’d been summoned too. Guess I’m not strong enough to summon something more powerful yet.”

“You were their first summoner?” Winter asks, a bit surprised, “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, she said so herself. She was as new to this as I was.”

“That’s interesting. I’ll let you rest now, you’ll need it. I remember after my first summoning I slept for almost twelve hours straight.”

“Really, you did?” Weiss asks, her eyes a bit wide. She couldn’t imagine her sister of all people spending that much time in bed.

“I certainly did. So you go back to sleep. I’ll tell Klein to have a good meal ready for you when you get up.”

“Thank you, Winter.” Weiss says with a small smile.

“Of course.” Winter says, moving towards the door. “Sleep well, Sister.” She says and walks out.

Even still being in her clothes Weiss feels the exhaustion coming back almost as soon as Winter leaves. She pulls the covers up farther and relaxes into her bed. She’d finally done it, she was a summoner now. That was all she needed to remember as she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

[carterashofficial]

Hello! I have a question: why do your couples love each other? Let me clarify: what is it about the other that makes them fall in love, that would make them go so far as to marry or start a serious relationship with that person?

Hiya, anon! I really like this question, so here goes and I hope I answer this as in-depth as you were looking for!

Carmadda/Corso: For Carmadda, she likes his teasing, how light-hearted he is, and how when she falls down, he picks her up and supports her until she can manage on her own (emotionally, not physically). He’s got a quick sense of humor and is usually trying to get her to smile. And he loves with his whole heart. And Corso, he sees a strong woman who’s closed off and he tries to get her to laugh. She’s got a sharp tongue and will go to the ends of the galaxy for someone she cares for because she’s just as loyal as him (and her pick-up lines are just as corny). They both trust each other and he falls in love a lot sooner than her, because she’s been hurt in the past and is guarded with her heart. But Corso and Carmadda are each other’s rocks and their loyalty and love to the other is endless.

Aric/Aja: At first they loathed each other, Aric had this annoyingly inquisitive Private on Havoc, and Aja thought her boss was a hardass who hated her for being inexpierienced. After some shit goes down, they’re friends. Only friends; as Aric keeps telling himself as his imprint on her gets stronger. He likes her questioning nature and eternal optimism and how she doesn’t take bullshit. When Aja develops her crush on him, she’d thought he was dead and he’d definitely not, he’s alive (and he likes her romantically). And Aja realizes how much he means to her, he’s stubborn, a quick-thinker, and gives everything 110%. Both of them stay true to their word.

Orannus/Elara: Orannus is one of the first few soldiers Elara meets that doesn’t judge her by her accent. He’s goofy and brave and knows what he’s doing, but he tries to be stronger than he is and hides his weaknesses. She’s lonely, and he’s a great friend. And Orannus, he sees a strong woman who’s got prejudice piled against her because she was born Imperial, yet she doesn’t let it weigh her down and she’s doing what she thinks is right. He cracks jokes to take her mind off the investigation into her brother’s defection and opens up about his nightmares. Their trust deepens and they fall in love with Elara’s seriousness balancing out his goofiness.

Wenia/Andronikos: He’s never had anyone look at him like he’s a decent man. But here’s this Sith who doesn’t act like she’s Sith smiling at him and being… nice. It throws him for a loop, to have someone believe the best in him. And Wenia, here’s this interesting pirate who acts all tough but is genuinely sweet and affectionate deep down. He doesn’t treat her like Sith or as a slave. He respects her. And she isn’t scared of him or intimidated with his reputation. He likes how she sees the best in everyone, and she likes how he secretly cares. They talk most things out and slowly their relationship grows. He will do anything for this woman who sees him as a better man than he is, because maybe he wants to be that man she thinks he is. And she will do anything to protect this sweet pirate of hers, who respects her and treats her as an equal.

Vanyke/Pierce: She’s plagued by self-doubt that she’ll ever become the perfect Sith she was trained to be, or ever find love. She saw love  growing up, her half-sister Wenia was loved by her fellow slaves, but Vanyke never had love like that directed at her. But there’s Pierce, a Black-Ops Lieutenant who’s brave and brash and loyal. He’s a good soldier, and when he gets wounded on Taris, she saves him. She sees part of herself in him, the part where she’s sent on dangerous missions and not always expected to survive. And Pierce, here’s this Sith deeming him important enough to save, this Sith who doesn’t see him as just another body in the military, she values him. Understands the pressure of leading a team out alive when there’s no back-up. And when she saves him, he’s falling unconscious and he sees her as a Space Angel. And kinda has a love-at-first-sight moment. His loyalty is to her first and the Empire second. On Quesh, when Baras’ betrayal happens, the mine Vanyke and Pierce are in collapses. She’s saved his life on Taris, and he has to repay that favor, so he saves her, nearly at the cost of his own. That action strikes Vanyke and she sees his devotion, his loyalty, and she thinks she’s undeserving of it, but she develops feelings for him. They also flirt back and forth in rapid succession to try and out-flirt the other. They’re intense people and like-minded, where actions speak louder than words.

I’m only doing my main five or this could/would go on for another mile

[thesilentsnapshotproject]

Wells, L, Photography: A Critical Introduction, 4th Edition, Routledge, 2009

the shift with the introduction of Kodak – mass market, similarly this has continued into today with the rapid succession of digital slrs, camera phones, go pros, easy printing access etc

‘cenotaph’ – ‘with the coming of the first world war there was a boom in camera sales, which reached its peak in 1917 as families bought cameras to record soldiers leaving for the war. Portraits of young men in uniform, many of whom never returned, make a poignant moment in most twentieth-century family collections’ – page 148

would be wrong to argue that the extracting of family images from a private to a public sphere is a modern/current action only, for pictures of ‘home-based daily life emerged in commercial imagery’ as early as the late twentieth century, ‘such images, perfected for advertisements and promotional design were routinely delivered to the breakfast table on cornflake packages, and baby food jars, and greeted shoppers with their serried ranks on the shelves of early super markets’ – page 150

in the later half of the twentieth century ‘snapshots and consumer imagery were fast becoming two sides of the same coin’ – page 150

Jennifer Ransom Carter, advertising photography 1970 to 1984 for Kodak Ltd, ‘we aimed to tread a line between reality and unreality as we produced a professional interpretation of the family snap’… ‘ and of course the pictures people want to keep are those that record the “happy memories” not the messy reality’ – page 151  - private/public – what is actually photographed for the family album became an issue of private and public within itself, it wasn’t just private images being taken out of context for public use but also some things were so private they didn’t even get photographed as they didn’t fit the social expectation of the perfect family

‘unhappy childhoods, broken families, child abuse, disgruntled teenagers and the persistence of poverty are only a few of the all too common experiences not recorded in domestic pictures. The family image came to be seen as riven with fractures and contradictions’ – page 152 – so what was private, really private within a family, remained that way, not even made public to the wider family, these events and problems as such were not allowed to enter the family album, which begins further discussions on private/public – find a contemporary photographer that contradicts this and exposes this factors in their photography – sally man perhaps? 

It could be argued that by stripping photos from their original intention or context, publicising them for all to see in the public eye or on social networking sites, that they lose their value, sentimentally or emotionally, however ‘Almost everyone has their own collection of pictures – sometimes in albums, sometimes digitally stored on a computer sometimes organised in packets or draws, sometimes just scattered around in a disorderly fashion but impossible to throw away. Every collection is different, every example unique. It is no longer enough to outline a social history of such images, since any history must now include interpretations and contextual information brought by their owners and users. These pictures do not stand alone but are enriched by memory, conversations, anecdote and whispered scandal. They are truly personal because they are part of the accumulated history of people currently alive, who know all too well that memories are not exclusively happy ones.’ – page 152 – therefore perhaps regardless of their presentation forms or the way in which they are distributed to us, our own personal photographs retain the same meaning and value they originally held. 

‘while many individuals bring to their personal collection emotional investment…to make sense of pictures which are not our own, we must change gear to become readers of the pictures and engage in a semiotic exploration, paying attention to cultural as well as photographic codes’ – page 153 

• also discuss incredibly saturated world of images today, generally the change in times – link back to Kodak and the mass market increase, it started in that era and has been escalating ever since, continuing today to icloud sharing, facebook, instagram etc, images are no longer shared with family and closest friends but rather with the world, strangers unknown to us, see and interpret our everyday, daily lives through our personal photographic collections, use instagram, tumblr etc as examples – non private settings allow access to anyone

‘personal photographs expect to be understood within an interpretive community, a group of users who share the same understandings of pictures which record and confirm valued rites of passage and culturally significant moments’ – page 154

‘pictures of events such as anniversaries, religious holidays and weddings are symbols of social integration. They have different significations for different cultural groups, who bring an instant recognition to the details by which the meaning of the event “subtly” overwhelms the personal aspect of the picture and fills it with allusions to tribe and ritual’ page 154 – (Hirsch, J, Family photography: Context, Meaning and Effect, New York, Oxford University Press, 1981, Page 59) facebook – presenting our photos to our own social group, tagging those individuals involved – it is in context, as it is publicised to a certain social group to whom the images will relate directly to, so actually these so called public images are just as private as the family album much like the album we share them with a selective group, who we choose to and keep them from others 

Ursula Kocharian – example- page 154

‘Just as family histories fit uneasily with histories of communities, personal histories remain part of, yet often at odds with, the histories of families. The three overlapping modes of community, family and personal rub up against each other. Each one important in its own right, but questioned and often invalidated by the others in a recurring dissonance that frequently underlies discussions of personal photographs.’ – page 154

the extraction of private to public contextualisation is not to be secluded to the way in which we personally distribute our own family and intimate photos online, but as Liz Wells points out ‘As the twentieth century ended, the public media themselves began to look back on personal upheavals. Millions now watch television programmes that trace the secret histories of ordinary people, often using their own personal snapshots’ – page 161 

Wells questions ‘where do families record such present distress and memories of atrocities past?’ – page 161 – in fact, previously they could be recorded in the gaps within the album, what is missing and can only be seen by looking at the edges of the images and what they hint at, that told the stories that were never supposed to enter the family album, never be made public – relate to a quote about the complete deletion of such imagery today – traces – in digital media there are no traces, unlike the material indications produced by an album, gaps, tears, missing bits etc

These days ‘infinite variations on the family form have become visible as never before. Arguably this is partly due to the popular exploration of domestic imagery in new and very public contexts.’ – page 164

• Discuss family photography in magazines such as OK and HELLO, revealing indiscretions and the private moments of celebrity individuals to the whole world and the bringing of family photographs into galleries – ‘challenging the boundaries between the public and the private’ – discuss photographic examples here 

‘however for the digital generation the experience of personal and family photography has radically changed. A picture is no longer a material object to treasure, but an instantaneous communication, disregarding distance.’ – page 165 – picture messages, snapchat, facebook, instagram etc all these devices and social networking applications allow you to share life as it happens, with the images contacting or outreaching strangers rather than close relatives, their meanings are being explored through the exchange of images on the screen. 

Wells goes on to argue that these are ‘ images whose meaning are forever lost, because their context has been lost.’ – page 165 – in regards to the work by Joachim Schmidt 

‘Personal photography has played a different but equally important role in the modernisation of Western culture. It has developed as a medium through which individuals confirm and explore their identity, that sense of selfhood which is an indispensable feature of modern sensibility – for in Western urban culture it is as individuals that people have come to experience themselves, independently of their role as family members or as occupying a recognised social position.’ – page 123 – so perhaps the shift from private to public exposure of the family photograph has something to do with the fact that we no longer care, we don’t want to, and are not expected to represent the ‘family’ as a social norm anymore, instead, we simply present and represent our ‘self’ – this old tradition of family representation simply no longer exists, hence the disappearance of everything that coincides with this tradition, the album, the image in a locket, the retention of the treasured photographic object seems to only continue to exist in the older generations who were bought up with analogue processes and an entirely different culture, one before the digital age

OK/HELLO argument – pointless – as early as the creation of photography, in the Victorian era the exposure of celebrity family life was made public through carte de visite collections – relaxed picture of Queen Victoria’s children and Princess Alexandra giving her daughter a piggy back became the best selling carte de visite, so even though family photography was intended for private viewing within the family and friends this example proves otherwise 

[mbaljeetsingh]

How To Increase Your Teams Efficiency with Ionic Pro

If you’re taking the hybrid route for your app development project you’ll save time compared to multiple separate native projects. What if you could save even more time by introducing another suite of tools to your team?

Ionic was never just a framework. The tooling, the support, the community and services provided by Ionic can be described as a whole universe, and Ionic always had an official platform to easily integrate services into your Ionic app.

By now this platform has changed to Ionic Pro, a suite of tools for the entire development lifecycle of your app. So let’s take a look at how those services can help you & your team to develop and ship your apps faster.

What is Ionic Pro?

Think of Ionic Pro as an optional toolset that can support your app development at different stages, from early prototyping to the native app stores.

Your Ionic app can be connected to the services super easy and everything else is and all the services you can use are optional, so there’s nothing you need to fear at first.

But what’s the actual benefit?

Time, convenience and specialised services exactly for Ionic apps, made by people who know what app developers need.

There are many great services out there for stuff like Prototyping, Testing, Automatic Deployments… And most of them are specialised on one particular step of your development. You could use each of them to cover all important aspects, or you could get all of them in one suite!

Ionic Pro bundles essential services to make your app development with Ionic even faster and easier!

Let’s take a closer look at the different building blocks of Ionic Pro.

Faster Prototyping

At the first stage of your next app project you might want to get a fast prototype or dummy app for your customers. Although I’m not the biggest fan of visual tools, the Ionic Creator is definitely different from what you might have used before.

With this rapid prototyping tool you (or your project manager) can drag & drop Ionic elements inside an app container, connect different elements and even at logic for transitions.

While this is already great, you can even add more custom logic with code for elements and finally export all of this into a classic Ionic project which you can then continue to develop based on the prototype!

The Git Workflow

While the previous tool is more visual, this part is more like the backbone of the whole Ionic Pro suite.

Most of the connected services depend on the current version of your app (or the apps code) and to send your current code to Ionic Pro all you have to do is following a simple Git workflow like you are already used to from your repository.

While you shouldn’t use the Git support as your main repository, it acts as a new origin for your git folder. The following services all depend heavily on your code, and they have access to the pushed code of your App.

By using the classing Git model Ionic makes it easy to integrate these steps in your already existing landscape without bigger problems while getting the benefits of the following services.

Live Deployments

If your app is built and distributed through the official stores, it takes time to update your code. You have to create a new submission and sometimes wait a few days (hello Apple) until your new app and code is live.

But with Ionic pro you can actually update your apps bundle without going through the process again – and all of this app store compliant.

How?

Your app is not much more than a website, and the JS, HTML and CSS code of the bundle can easily changed. Still, if you add Cordova plugins or native functionality you need to go through the official process again.

But for quick bugfixes, you can simply pick the new version of your git workflow, or if something goes wrong you can easily roll back to a previous version!

Testing with Channels

Testing is an essential part of every development lifecycle, and the existing tools with iOS Testflight and the Android alpha/beta stages are already pretty cool.

Still, you can get an even better testing setup by dividing your users/testers into different groups and deploying different stages of your app to different channels.

While this might sound complicated, it actually isn’t as you can simply select your version and the according channel and the new app will be available to those testers.

By doing this you can grant access to new features to specific people, while another department still works with the production version or another version with specific features.

Getting Testing Feedback

Making a specific version available is only the one side of testing, the other side of the coin is from the users perspective. Here Ionic Pro comes with a specific app users can download, the Ionic View app.

Through this app users can access the different versions of your app, and also they got some more features.

Like you can see from the image above, users can simply shake their device to create a bug report that will be submitted to your Ionic Pro dashboard.

This means, it’s super easy for users to report a strange behaviour, and it’s also handy for you to have all the feedback in one place attached with a screenshot of the malfunction!

Packaging Apps in the Cloud

This part might not be interesting for bigger companies as most already own a Mac or at least Mac like environment to build their iOS apps.

Still, if you don’t have a Mac but need to build an iOS app, you can let Ionic Pro take care of the hard work. Simply upload your security profiles (which still nee to be created..) and your Ionic App will be built in the cloud.

Again you can select version from your workflow, and when the process is finished you can download the final artefact which you can then submit to the appstore!

And of course you could also build your Android app there if you wish to.

Monitoring JavaScript Errors

Something most Ionic / hybrid apps lack is a solid error reporting. Traditionally, client errors are hard to log and you are dependent on bug reports of your users.

But with the monitoring module of Ionic Pro your app can now take care of this whole process on it’s own!

Simply integrate the according package and add special logs inside the code of your app and you can track the bugs easily within your Ionic Pro dashboard.

Wondering how the compiled code can link back to a specific line of code?

With TypeScript your project contains something called sourcemaps which will help Ionic Pro to translate the error of your client back to a specific line of your uncompiled code.

Of course your can upload your sourcemaps with a CLI command for every new version so all the errors stay in sync!

How to get Started?

If you want to get started now, you can sign up today for free and start using some of the services.

If you enjoy those or want all the tools, paid accounts start at 29$ or pick another plan from the Ionic Pro pricing.

What are your thoughts on Ionic Pro, do you already use it?

Let us know if it helped your team or what you think could be added as well!

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