#anyway i think because of this the pack makes an effort to appeal to her the same way they do with monroe

[joshdiaz]

— hera lindsay bird

[quindolyn]

subby Jamie fluffy (Smut?) where he wakes up in the middle of the night and sucks on the readers titties to drink from her tits because she's lactating after giving birth to their daughter. I don't know if this makes sense but I hope it does!

Lactation Kink || James Potter

A/N: I'm not even sure if I should include "kink" but I will admit that there are some very smutty overtones so read at your own discretion. I tweaked the request a little bit in terms of the circumstances but the bones are still there. I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: lactation kink, light sub!James and Dom!reader, not much I don't think, all acts are completely consensual and if they needed a safe word they'd have one

Word Count: 1851

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were life savers. They could only watch their two closest friends creep closer and closer to death for so long before doing something about it.

After giving birth to a beautiful baby boy seven months ago you and James had come to understand a new definition of the word exhaustion. You were absolutely enamoured with your baby boy, James the same way if not worse, always keeping him cradled in his arms, Harry’s little head nestled into the crook of James’ arm.

Regardless, there is no amount of parental love to counteract the complete lack of sleep the two of you have endured. “Sleep when the baby sleeps” they all say, it's excellent in theory if only the baby would actually sleep.

No, instead you and James were subject to months of newborn induced insomnia,

You’d barely understood what Remus and Sirius were saying when they offered to watch your son for a few days, give you and James some time alone. Even though every part of your being screamed for you to take them up on their offer there was that small, annoyingly persistent, voice in the back of your head. The voice of maternal guilt.

Your friends wouldn’t hear any of your arguments, listening as you insisted that Harry was still far too young for you to leave him, you could barely stand a few hours, how were you supposed to survive days?

Despite your insistence that it was far too early to leave Harry with his godfathers for an extended weekend when the following Thursday rolled around you and James were rather unceremoniously kicked out of your own house, told that reservations had been made for you at an expensive spa and resort and that you were not to return home until the following Monday.

They’d even packed your bags for you.

You and James had successfully made it through the first night away from your baby, your quality of your sleep however was not up to par as you tossed and turned, worrying about the little boy you’d left at home.

Even cuddled up to Jamie’s chest your sleep was more like a light sheet over your consciousness giving you a shallow, unsatisfactory, reprieve.

What you needed was for sleep to hit you over the head with a baseball bat, knock you unconscious for hours and give your body time to recover.

After a long, exhausting day of taking advantage of the resort's numerous spa treatments, your wish of deep, meaningful sleep seemed as though it might actually just come true.

Minutes after laying your head down on the pillow, James slipping into bed behind you, you were out cold. Pulling you closer so that he could bury his face in the crook of your neck James was close behind you.

Finally, sleep.

-----

Your tits hurt, they fucking hurt. You were finally getting some quality sleep but the discomfort in your chest became intolerable and you were lulled back into a dreaded state of consciousness.

You’d been so ready for sleep and the peace that it would bring that you’d forgotten to pump your milk before getting into bed. You find yourself regretting that decision now, you shift slightly in James’ hold, just as tight as it had been when you’d fallen asleep. The clock on the bedside table reads three in the morning.

Fuck me, you think, your thoughts still blurry from sleep, carrying a weight in your temples that lures your head back down to the pillow as you fall back into your spot in James’ arms. You’re going to have to get up eventually, that much you understand, but the prospect of getting up and finding the pump, hooking it up, then actually sitting there while you pump sounds nothing short of absolutely dreadful.

You can only lay there for so long, on your back so as not to apply any pressure to your breasts, staring up at the ceiling before your tits go from hurting to feeling like they’re about to explode.

Eventually you’re forced to begin to fuss in James’ arms, trying to find the seal that will let you get up hopefully without waking your husband.

Even asleep James’ grip is insistent, he’s like quick sand, the more you try to maneuver your way out of his arms the tighter his hold gets, the closer he pulls you to him.

“Jamie, you gotta let go,” You murmur, hoping to appeal to the half asleep man.

“Where you going, angel?” His voice is the crashing of a wave against the shore in your ears, low, rumbling, calming. That voice alone is enough to have you considering just climbing back into bed with him, exploding tits be damned.

“Forgot to pump Jamie, m’tits feel like they’re ready to explode.”

He flickers his eyes open, worry etched into his irises, already blanketed in sleep, “Hurting?” Raising his head his eyes drop to your tits, like maybe he’ll be able to see your affliction.

“A little bit,” You nod, your hands combing through his unruly curls before making another attempt to rise from the mattress, “Gonna pump and then I’ll feel all better. I’ll be quick.”

“No,” He whines, god you miss the sound of his whine. His arms are like steel as he pulls you firmly back onto the bed, “M’thirsty anyways.”

Confusion heightens in you before James turns you so you’re fully on your back before slipping under your arm, resting his head on your chest.

Nimble fingers find the neckline of the silk camisole you’d found in the luggage Remus and Sirius had packed for you, sons of bitches also packed every single pair of lacy panties you own.

With little difficulty he slips the thin strap down your shoulder allowing him to tuck the soft material of the top under your breast.

“Miss my girls,” He whispers as he bares your breasts, they’re swollen with milk but the way he’s looking at you you’d think they were something far more precious.

“I’ll be gentle,” His promise comes just as he latches onto your pert nipple, carefully guarding his teeth with his lips, the last thing he would wanna do is hurt you.

It bears little resemblance to the way he used to suck your tits, fervently like they were the only things keeping him grounded, sometimes they had been. Now he proceeds with a new sense of caution but that doesn’t mean it’s any less pleasurable.

“Jamesie, ‘s for Harry, you can’t drink the baby’s milk,” You regrettably push him off your tit, he looks anything but pleased.

“They were mine first,” He whines, throwing you a dirty glance that falls completely flat given the immense adoration that lies just behind it, “And I told you (Y/N), ‘m thirsty, want your milk. Wanna make you feel good.”

Giving you his most convincing puppy dog eyes he leans back in, he latches on efficiently and sucking with an increased vigor you feel a feeling of fullness swell in your breast as your nipple tingles. It’s a feeling you’ve gotten used to but so rarely has it ever turned you on as when James is the cause of it.

He hums in satisfaction as the warm milk seeps into his mouth, it encourages him in his efforts causing him to latch on tighter. A little too tight.

“Easy there baby,” You hiss, “M’tits are sensitive.”’

He complies immediately, loosening his lips around your nipple the sensation becomes pleasurable once more. The pleasure helps distract from the discomfort which, at least in the tit James it latched onto, seems to be dwindling. The other breast is left aching until you feel a similar sensation coming from your nipple.

“You’re leaking.”

Casting your eyes downward you see that he’s right, you’re leaking slightly out of your unattended nipple. It's not unusual for it to happen but usually you just brush it away with a warm washcloth, not wanting to have a sticky mess on your chest.

Carefully, he brushes the pad of his thumb over the over sensitive bud.

“Can’t let it go to waste,” He brings his thumb to his mouth to suck it clean, the visual is almost enough to make your head spin.

You can’t remember the last time you saw James subby, ever since you’ve had Harry it's been sleepy handjobs and once you fully recovered, him pushing you up anywhere he could and taking you right there. It’s like parenthood awoke something far more dominant inside of him but as he latches back onto your tit you’re reminded how beautiful he is when he submits to you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, letting your fingers dance along the nape of his neck as you feel yourself unwinding with every second he sucks at your tit, bringing you relief.

“You full yet?”

He gently lets your tit slide from his mouth before responding, “Does it still hurt?”

The genuine concern in his voice has butterflies erupting in your stomach, you learned a long time ago just how sweet and caring James is but sometimes it hits you harder than you were expecting and you’re left feeling just as giddy as you did in the beginning of your relationship.

James seems to have sucked you dry, or at least to a point where your tit no longer burns with the feeling of an impending explosion.

“No s’all better baby, did such a good job,” You guide his face up towards yours, “Got a little milk on your lips,” You lean in, kissing the milk off his swollen lips.

It’s sweeter than you expected but maybe everything was sweeter coming off his lips.

You take your time admiring his face, hazel eyes that look a little more brown than they did yesterday, lips an impossible pink. Thick, long lashes you remember envying for as long as you’ve known each other cast their shadows along his cheekbones. He’s perfect.

You run the pad of your thumb along his bottom lip before letting him suck it into his mouth, when he couldn’t get to your tits sucking on your fingers always used to help James calm down. For the life of you you can’t remember the last time he’d sucked on your fingers. If it’d been in the last seven months you’d probably just been too tired to remember.

Letting your digit slide from his mouth James hauls himself over you, careful not to brush against your breasts, to lay on your other side. He moves with a surprising grace considering just minutes ago he’d been in the throws of sleep, you’d forgotten how well he moved.

“Other one now,” He murmurs, eyes glued to your tit as his hands move to cup it, giving him better access to your nipple.

“You sure baby? I can just pump this one and you can go back to bed, s’okay.”

“No,” His brows furrow with his empathic response, if he wasn’t already on top of you you’re sure he’d pull you closer in fear that you might escape, “Mine.”

taglist: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @oliviashea05 @pinkandblueblurbs @thatvenusbabe @itsmentalillness @zzzfour @Greenlyblue @emmaev @temporaryissue @gubleryum @msmb @marauderswhore07 @st0nesnglitter  @miraclesoflove @shadesofvelma @drachoesimp @ashlovesthemarauders @artemis1orion @skaratjung @ava-brooke-blog1 @fairyprettygirly @Ohwowimlonley @padfootswife @roonilwazlibswhore @swearingsolemnly @Teenwolfbitches28 @lilypad-55449 @jamespotterslover @lilytheally @mo-jean @jeannelupinblack @wh0reforthemarauders @myalupinblack @ashesandstars @daisyyy2516 @siriusmydeer @remugoodgirl @itzstacie @planet-wolfstar @steveharringtonswhore @saintlike78 @thatdummymarie @cedricisnotdead @pretty-pop-princess-hs @saggyb1lls

[tigerkirby215]

5e Vex, the Gloomiest build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Horace “Hozure” Hsu. Made for Riot Games.)

Writing this build in a dark room late at night, super tired and stuff... Stuck inside cause of this dumb virus... AFKing in TFT for a Prestige skin like a tryhard... It’s kinda aesthetic, ya know?

GOALS

Another person to kill... Shadow? Can you handle it? - You don’t need best friends: you’ve got your Shadow. He’s the only cool one, because he’s basically you.

Ugh. Can we get some rain clouds in here? - No one likes a debbie downer, but everyone loves a good scare!

Man, walking suuuucks - Nowadays even the anti-dash champion needs a resetting dash. “Do the thing, Shadow.”

RACE

I could make Vex a Harengon to justify her rabbit ears, but she doesn’t really do much “jumping.” That, and I didn’t buy Wild Beyond the Witchlight. So Halfling still works good enough for a yordle. Your Dexterity increases by 2, and while your movement speed goes down to 25 you have Halfling Nimbleness to move through people who are bigger than you. You’re also “Brave” for advantage against fears (when you hang around the Shadow Isles stuff really isn’t that scary) and of course have good ol’ yordle Lucky to reroll Nat 1s.

Halflings are normally pretty cheerful but Ghostwise Halflings are perfectly dark. You’d normally increase your Wisdom by 1 but I’d recommend increasing your Constitution instead. But I mean, it’s not a big deal if you take Wisdom instead. It is only +1. You also get Silent Speech to keep to team chat with 30 foot telepathy. I mean, they have to understand your languages but at least you don’t have to tell everyone what you’re talking about. And oh yeah you obviously speak Common and Halfling.

ABILITY SCORES

15; CHARISMA - Turns out when you don’t release any new yordles for (wait it’s been 5 years since Kled was released? Holy shit) people end up wanting them.

14; DEXTERITY - Just because you don’t like walking doesn’t mean you’re slow.

13; CONSTITUTION - Imagine dying like a normie.

12; WISDOM - Vex isn’t sad because she’s pessimistic. She’s just realistic.

10; INTELLIGENCE - You’re too cool for school. (And I needed everything else more.)

8; STRENGTH - Ughhh I don’t wanna lift heavy stuff! I’m tired...

BACKGROUND

I guess you’re technically a Haunted One, even if the black mist is the best thing that ever happened to you. You get proficiency in Arcana and Survival as well as two language of your choice to talk to your "allies.” (I guess one of them has to be exotic or whatever.) (I’d personally pick Sylvan as the language of yordles and whatever language the majority of your party knows as your second choice, but that’s just me.)

The thing that sucks about having a Heart of Darkness is that everyone keeps trying to help you, thinking that your sadness (and the living shadow on your back) is something to be fixed. I mean, at least you can get the NPC normies to help you, as long as you don’t spook ‘em. “No doctors! I told you: being sad makes me happy.”

(Artwork by @ToggleD0wnFall on Twitter.)

THE BUILD

or whatever...

LEVEL 1 - SORCERER 1

Starting as a Sorcerer for saving throws and stuff. Also proficiency in Intimidation and... Persuasion, I guess? Look, persuading people that you’re fine “no really” is a skill too.

I wonder what Sorcerous Origin we’ll pick... If only there was one based entirely on shadows and darkness... Oh hey Shadow Magic. As a Shadow Sorcerer you get Eyes of the Dark for 120 feet of Darkvision to see with your dumb Halfling eyes, and Strength of the Grave which will let Shadow take a hit for you. (As long as you make a good Charisma save.)

But of course the main appeal of a Sorcerer is the Spellcasting. You can learn 4 cantrips from the Sorcerer list and two level spells: For cantrips Mage Hand will let Shadow pick things up for you, Mind Sliver and Sword Burst will keep loud people off you both up close and from afar, and Prestidigitation will let you do all sorts of normie yordle magic. As for leveled spells Shield and Mage Armor are both kinda mandatory for some Personal Space.

LEVEL 2 - WARLOCK 1

What? Did you really think we wouldn’t get at least some support from adults? Work for that cool gloomy dude Viego and make a pack with The Undead. That’s because Undead are super dark and morbid and have a Form of Dread: as a bonus action you can turn on your Doom and Gloom for 1 minute. You get some temporary hit points, fear people when you hit them, and are immune to fears yourself. You can transform a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus and regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest.

You also get Pact Magic, which is different from normie Spellcasting because you get the cool stuff done with just a Short Rest. Anyways you can learn two cantrips from the Warlock list like Minor Illusion to have Shadow trick some normies and Eldritch Blast to Eldritch while you Blast. You can also grab some first level Warlock spells like Hex to mark people you don’t like, and Arms of Hadar if you really need your Personal Space.

LEVEL 3 - WARLOCK 2

Second level Warlocks get their Eldritch Invocations for extra stuff that you don’t have to put effort into. While Armor of Shadows does exist it’s honestly better for you to cast Mage Armor with a spell slot, so with that being said take Agonizing Blast to agonize while you blast and Eldritch Mind so you can keep your concentration around annoying people.

You can also learn another spell like Hellish Rebuke, because people just keep barging into your Personal Space!

LEVEL 4 - SORCERER 2

Now that you can agonize your blasts it’s time to go back to Sorcerer. Second level Sorcerers get a Font of Magic for Sorcery Points which currently don’t do much other than give you more spell slots. You can turn your Warlock slots into Sorcery points though, which is good because they come back on a Short Rest but the rest of your magic does not.

You can also cast another spell like Earth Tremor, to slow people down with Looming Darkness and sunder the land with your edginess.

LEVEL 5 - SORCERER 3

Third level Sorcerers finally get Metamagic! Empowered Spell will allow you to maximize your damage and retain your role as an artillery mage. Alternatively if you want to guarantee fears in your foes take Heightened Spell to give them disadvantage to resist Shadow’s influence.

If you want Shadow to stick around then Dust Devil will swirl around for quite awhile. Alternatively Shadow (Magic) also teaches you Darkness for free, and you can cast it with 2 Sorcery Points to see through it! Your friends can’t see through it, but you can team up with Shadow for some powerful combos when you can see them but they can’t see you!

(Artwork by @jpdiasarts on Twitter.)

LEVEL 6 - SORCERER 4

4th level Sorcerers get the first of many Ability Score Improvements, but I can’t take Fey Touched every time for Flash. That, and we won’t give into basic yordle society. So let’s get value out of our Halfling race with the Second Chance feat. Along with +1 to your Charisma you can also use your reaction to make an enemy you can see attacking you reroll their attack roll, potentially making them miss.

Don’t use this against an attack that you can Shield against, but if someone gets a really good roll you can use this to get your Personal Space back! You can only use this once per combat though (it comes back when you roll for initiative!) so make sure to use it when it matters to keep your spell slots in check.

Oh and you can also learn another spell, and another cantrip! For your cantrip Shocking Grasp will help you push people away if they get too close (folk tend to react poorly when zapped by a tazer!) As for leveled spells Web will keep foes from dashing around, and is also pretty flammable. Huhn; wonder if that’ll be useful.

LEVEL 7 - SORCERER 5

5th level Sorcerers get gifts from the Ruined Queen Tasha in the form of Magical Guidance. You can use a Sorcery point to reroll a d20 if needed, potentially squeezing a success out. Don’t use this all the time (even if Warlock slots means you’ll have plenty of Sorcery points to spare) but this can be very useful in an emergency!

You can also learn third level spells and hey: Fireball may be a normie spell, but it’s still pretty effective. It’s maybe a bit too flashy to be Looming Darkness but it’s a good source of AoE damage which isn’t as loud and annoying as Shatter.

LEVEL 8 - SORCERER 6

All this time being a Shadow Sorcerer and Shadow hasn’t even done anything for us! Well how about you go out there and get some work done, Shadow? For 3 Sorcery points you can summon a Hound of Ill Omen to target a foe within 120 feet of you.

Shadow is basically a Dire Wolf except he’s Medium, has temp HP equal to half your Sorcerer level, can move through stuff (but takes damage if he ends his turn in stuff), and automatically chases whoever you told him to go for. Shadow will appear 30 feet away from the person you told him to get, and will chase after him like I said. All he’ll really do is attack the target you told him to though; he won’t even opportunity attack unless it’s the person you told him to chase. But if Shadow’s near someone they have disadvantage on their saving throws, which is pretty cool. (Unfortunately it’s only against spells, not your Form of Dread.)

Speaking of saving throws: Slow is a really great way to keep normies from running around doing annoying stuff. And you don’t have to hit Shadow with it which is pretty cool.

(Artwork by @Lauriquess on Twitter.)

LEVEL 9 - WARLOCK 3

Third level Warlocks get to choose their Pact Boon: if you want a really small Shadow go for Pact of the Chain, and if you want your cool necklace go for Pact of the Talisman, but we’ll be going for Pact of the Tome because you’re mostly a spellcaster really. (And we definitely don’t have enough cantrips.)

You get a Book of Shadows (See? Books can be cool!) with three cantrips: take Thaumaturgy to be extra spooky, Vicious Mockery for some sick teenage burns, and Sapping Sting to make normies fall over when you fear them. Some might say that 10 total cantrips by level 9 is a bit overkill but look on the dark side: you’ve now got a cantrip for basically every type of saving throw in case you can’t hit with Eldritch Blast!

Honestly none of the Pact Boons are particularly important for Vex so I picked the one that made the most sense. Feel free to take something more practical since 10 cantrips is admittedly overkill.

Oh and you can learn more Warlock spells, so now it’s time to finally take Misty Step. For Flash!

LEVEL 10 - WARLOCK 4

4th level Warlocks get another Ability Score Improvement: getting more Charisma for better spellcasting is probably a good idea.

You can also learn another spell, and hey look another cantrip. For your cantrip even if more damage options are kinda overkill by this point Chill Touch inflicts Grievous Wounds, which might be useful. You can also grab another second level spell and Blindness / Deafness (which is on the Undead list) is far more useful than any of the other normie options you’d have at this level anyways.

LEVEL 11 - WARLOCK 5

5th level Warlocks get another Eldritch Invocation, and even if you’ve got a resetting dash you’re still a squishy mage. So grab Tomb of Levistus for Zhonya's Hourglass.

You can also grab third level Warlock spells now! Remember how I took Fireball and complained that it wasn’t a good replica of Looming Darkness? Well Hunger of Hadar takes your Concentration but it’s a lot edgier!

LEVEL 12 - WARLOCK 6

6th level Undead Warlocks have become Grave Touched by the mist, and can make mist of their own! Along with being able survive without eating, drinking, or breathing you can turn any of your damage into necrotic damage. If you’re in your Form of Dread however you can add one extra damage die to whatever you’re using to get people to buzz off, adding to that morbid and macabre aesthetic.

You can also add another spell and if you’re bored with Shadow being a wolf how about you make them a Summon Shadowspawn? Weaponize your Fury, Despair, or Fear (I’d honestly recommend Fury since it has good synergy with your Dreadful Aspect) and work together with Shadow to deal with all your annoying foes! I’d also suggest replacing Hellish Rebuke with Counterspell, because even if the former fits better the latter is way more useful.

(Artwork by Jennifer Wuestling. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 13 - WARLOCK 7

7th level Warlocks can finally activate Shadow Surge. Relentless Hex lets you mark a foe with Hex and then dash to them. And technically you can move Hex around after the fact to reset your dashes! And while you’re at it you may as well grab Dimension Door for Summoner Teleport.

You could also upgrade Summon Shadowspawn to Summon Aberration if you so desire, but Summon Shadowspawn is more than strong enough and far more fun and thematic.

LEVEL 14 - WARLOCK 8

Another Ability Score Improvement. Yay. Cap off your Charisma for the best spellcasting you can get out of Shadow. You can also learn another spell, but we’re going to wait for...

LEVEL 15 - WARLOCK 9

9th level Warlocks get another Eldritch Invocation: even if it’s kinda ineffective Ascendant Step is still pretty useful to have Shadow carry you around. I mean yeah it’s slow but not that much slower than walking for you, and Shadow can lift you up in the air. “Shadow; carry me...”

You can also learn 5th level spells. If one guy’s being particularly annoying Negative Energy Flood can get them to shut up and work for you. Alternatively if you want more Personal Space Antilife Shell is on the Undead List and will make sure normies keep faaaaar away.

LEVEL 16 - WARLOCK 10

Are you ever so sick of everything that you just want to explode? Necrotic Husk has two benefits: for one you’re resistant to Necrotic damage, and immune while in your Form of Dread because being around Viego for so long means you’re used to his work.

But additionally when you are reduced to 0 hit points you can use your reaction to drop to 1 hit point instead and cause your body to explode! Each creature of your choice within 30 feet of you takes 2d10 + your warlock level in Necrotic damage. You do gain 1 level of exhaustion after using this, and after using it once you can’t do so again until you finish 1d4 long rests. So I’d perhaps use Strength of the Grave first unless you really need to lash out.

I hope you weren’t expecting more spells because you aren’t getting them from Warlock: just a cantrip. By this point we’ve honestly got far too many cantrips so I dunno maybe just grab Prestidigitation again and swap it out from Sorcerer when you get the chance.

(Artwork by @DukkoArt on Twitter.)

LEVEL 17 - SORCERER 7

Finally back to our yordle roots: 7th level Sorcerers get 4th level spells like Storm Sphere for a sphere of darkness and angst. But I mean the real benefit is that you get more Sorcery points let’s be real.

Oh and you can swap out Prestidigitation for Gust I guess. Spooky winds and stuff. Either this level or next level depending on your DM.

LEVEL 18 - SORCERER 8

Your last Ability Score Improvement... You’re gonna have to ask: what’s more important to me? More Metamagic, or more Eldritch Invocations? If Metamagic is to your liking take Metamagic Adept for Careful Spell and Distant Spell along with two more Sorcery points to use on them. If you like Eldritch Invocations though Eldritch Adept has a ton of options as a level 10 Warlock. I won’t tell you what invocation to take (they’re all great boosts but none of them shout out at me as something you should prioritize) as there are plenty of options to make your own Vex now that they’re all grown up.

I can at least tell you what spell to take: none of them! Wait until next level!

Oh and you can swap out Prestidigitation for Gust I guess.

LEVEL 19 - SORCERER 9

9th level Sorcerers can learn 5th level spells which means you’ve finally caught up to your Warlock slots. And look at that: the good wish Tasha gave you one last way to weaponize Shadow. Bigby’s Hand does a bunch of cool stuff and is pretty much the ultimate way to make Shadow crush some normies. (Most literally.) Alternatively if you want to borrow from Viego Enervation will let you heal from the mist and also do some damage. Great if you’re stuck in a corner with a bunch of annoying normies.

LEVEL 20 - SORCERER 10

Our final level is the 10th level of Sorcerer for one last spell, one last cantrip, and one last metamagic option! For your metamagic it’s honestly about time you take Quickened Spell to up your DPS. For your cantrip take Mold Earth to dig holes in the sand and brood. And as for your leveled spell? Honestly I just like Synaptic Static, and there isn’t much else I want anyways.

FINAL BUILD

PROS

We’re all doomed. But you’re more doomed - 5th level spells pack more than enough punch, and you’ve got plenty of them. Warlock slots will always be at your fingertips, and Sorcery points give you plenty of flexibility too!

I can feel it: someone’s happy over there! - Along with giving you a temporary hitpoint shield Form of Dread puts a nice bit of CC on all your abilities. Keep enemies scared and sad with tons of Doom and Gloom!

Ugh. Stop copying me Shadow! - Hounds of Ill Omen are cool. Summon Shadowspawn is also cool. Bigby’s Hand is especially cool. And hey: even your lower level Concentration spells like Hex? They’re pretty cool too.

CONS

Ughhhhhhhhhh this is gonna take foreeeever! - You’ve got limited fumes, even for a coffeelock. Form of Dread has limited uses and there’s only so much spell slot melting you can do to get your magic back.

I’m dancing... Happy? - You’ve got a really boring set of really normie skills... and if you’re playing Vex the way she’s meant to be played you’re probably not going to use any of them except for Intimidation.

Yup; the glass is half empty - Half your levels are Sorcerer levels, meaning you’re squishy. You’ve also got Mage Armor on which guess what: also means you’re squishy. People who hit teenagers sure are lame but it’s really not hard to Power Word Kill you.

But I guess you’re pretty cool overall. Shadow’s an alright partner and you can spread Ruination even without Viego. Trudge around and get people to frown for once. There’s nothing wrong with being sad, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting the world to be sad. But do try to at least be happy out of character, because we play games to have fun. I mean, who’d play a video game that just makes you depressed and angry?

(Artwork by @AzzylumArt on Twitter.)

[cloudyevaa]

— warning!!! spoilers for the 2.1 genshin impact archon quest, and a lot of disappointment up ahead. also disclaimer: i am not by any means qualified to give this criticism lol this is just my take and my opinion on the quest's execution, and i need a place to rant.

I can't be the only one who feels very conflicted about the 2.1 archon quest, right??

I think one of the appeals of inazuma's main story was the fact that there was a war, an ongoing conflict between a nation and its deity - the fact that the archons' moralities are not so black and white as we'd thought is hammered home by the dictating reign of the raiden shogun, in contrast to both rex lapis and barbatos, who have directly aided the traveller in their previous endeavours.

the 2.1 archon quest, though?? it feels as if ei is played off to just be a lonely and misunderstood deity, and she so easily changes after... what? yae miko visits her in her realm of euthymia? the shogun knew of the repercussions of the vision hunt decree, the tenryou commission's involvement with the fatui, and even the civil war.

so why was the plot building up to the reveal that the raiden shogun may have just been mislead by false commission reports? what difference does it make that both the tenryou and kanjirou commissions have betrayed the shogun if she already knew they colluded with the fatui?

I hold nothing against ei's character — in fact, I love the way her ideals seem perfect on paper, but works in detriment to the very people she wants to protect. I love that she struggles to understand how eternity is not stagnation, and that growth is the only thing that will stay forever unchanging, because all moments are fleeting, and all life ends.

but mihoyo makes it extremely hard for me to enjoy her story completely when all we do is fight her and rely on the power of friendship vision bearers' ambitions to change her mind about the vision hunt decree. like, ,, what gives?? everything happened so quickly, how could she so easily throw away the ideals she's been so adamantly holding onto for decades?

I haven't done her story quest, but it looks like she's not even being taken accountable for being the spearhead in a literal civil war. all those vision bearers who lost their lives ( including kazuha's friend ), all the common people she has harmed because of her tunnel vision - she lifts the vision hunt decree and she is suddenly absolved? of course, I don't want a perfect morally good character, but at the very least mihoyo can show us that she is not so perfect so as to suddenly change her mind about the vision hunt decree and sporadically feel compassion for the very people she knows she has harmed.

I'm sure people are also really shocked about signora's death - I am too. I was never a fan of signora but her presence was always filled with mystery, intrigue, and an impending sense of doom. she was that antagonist - beautiful, hauntingly cruel, and jam-packed with unknown backstory ( as seen with the crimson witch and pale flame artifact set lore ) that I thought was going to be further explored on future quests. but?? she??? just???? dies???? and for what?

I don't mind if she dies ( in fact, I would like for an opportunity to use traveller to execute her myself ), but the fact that her death brings no substance to the overarching story, especially since scaramouche just. got the gnosis from yae miko. like, mihoyo can do signora MUCH better than this. she deserves a glorious death as a fleshed-out antagonist, yet I felt nothing for her, not even the slightest bit of satisfaction, when she disappeared into ashes.

and scaramouche. I like the guy, he's funny-looking, and kind of sadistic. the fact that he was appearing in inazuma was a welcome surprise. it made sense, considering he was confirmed to be from inazuma, and there were theories about he and the shogun's similar appearamces which I eagerly consumed. but he appears for like, 3 minutes, and then we're KNOCKED OUT???? seriously???????

when yae miko suddenly appeared I actually thought she'd betrayed us and was working with the fatui. but then she wakes us up, tells us nothing about the SINGLE MOST important exchange in the whole quest until AFTER the main conflict is resolved, and just dumps scaramouche's identity on us as a SIDE COMMENT. what is this tomfoolery??? we weren't even there to see it? at least give us a cutscene explaining what went down, because this was LITERALLY one of the most important parts of the entire archon quest, and one of the recurring goals of the traveller.

also, can we talk about the resistance? oh wait a minute, we can't, because they literally did nothing. absolutely nothing. they contributed a total of 0 times the whole quest. only teppei was a memorable figure, and he had more lore than the upcoming 5-star master strategist of the whole army; kokomi.

as a person who loves kokomi, i am devastated by the lack of actual role she holds within the plot. she is a famed strategist and the only reason the resistance has been holding out for so long, as kujou sara said herself. but she's not given so much as a 30-second fight scene, and we never see her cunning wits on the battlefield - we probably never will. why, you may ask? well, because the freaking war is OVER. because baal just decided to stop the vision hunt decree.

i sincerely hope there will be more substantial kokomi content during her banner where we get to see her shine, seeing as it seems that mihoyo is already nerfing her abilities and focusing their efforts into promoting ei instead.

however, seeing as the main inazuma conflict ( the vision hunt decree ) is already over and dealt with... what the frick is kokomi supposed to bring to the table??? 😃 the one character i feel that shone throughout the quest was kujou sara, who had actually had a set-up for potential character development from the previous patch. but even then she's rendered unconscious by signora in front of the archon she is the loyal right-hand of??? like y'all pls tell me I'm not dreaming.

I loved the graphics, the concept, the lore - but the execution fell flat and felt terribly rushed. I wonder if it's because mihoyo is very insistent on hyper-fixating upon the raiden shogun this update.

anyway, that was a long tangent lmao. if you enjoyed the quest, good for you!! I enjoyed it, too; but my enjoyment is far overshadowed by the glaring issues that i had with it. i'd love to hear other people's thoughts about the quest.

[supercorp-hosie]

My thoughts for Legacies 314:

1) Clarke!!! I like his air of cockiness when he do all this things, and especially when Hope break this air😂😂😂 I think since the show is constantly letting him show up like this, maybe at some point he will eventually turn up or be brought back by my Sowanby team? Oh my Holarke heart! I just love their dynamic like how I’m entertained by Lizdon dynamics🤣🤣

2) I still see that artifact that was broken because of Landon unnecessary move, why? I thought the arc was over? It’s just hilarious when Clark tried so hard to break it, even using explosives, but Landon just break it by throwing it to the monster😂 these brothers, I can’t 😂 (I know it’s because of the presence of Cleo, but still, funny!)

3) Okay, the way Hope just ended up with Wade, doing a drama about undying teenage love, I can’t imagine 🤣🤣 sorry Hope, but Wade can be a good teammate. And Wade has a last name - Rivers! Congrats! Poor Jed, another person that’s appear later than him and got a last name.

4) I just inevitably thought about the other witch Gaby, and relates back to Penelope😆. What if Penelope comes back and starts a war with Finch, that would be fun🤣 I can imagine they somehow would have to work together to protect Josie if something happens to her. They can look past that because they both care for Josie so much. Penelope/Josie/Finch anyone? (I’m secretly shipping Penelope and Finch too in my head, OMG can you imagine the volcano erupting? Enemies to lovers trope??)

5) Finally SBS has a teacher other than Alaric now.

6) I do think that the compelling works. Anyway, considering what’s going to happen, I’m certain that somehow Ethan is going to remember what happened with MG. If he’s going to be a supernatural, I’m rooting for vampire. We are really lacking vampires here.

7) I love Hope’s magical surges♥️ and how other students is taking that like it’s a normal thing around them. Unlike the school tour.

8) I love Hope needn’t to turn around to know that it’s Josie right away♥️ and Josie do catch up things around Hope when she’s not around after she returns.

9) Josie lied to Hope that Lizzie needs help(even though it turns out to be true doesn’t mean she didn’t lie), to help Hope with her mental state. Is this toxic or supportive?? Maybe I should just count it separately?

10) The twins clothes!! Contrast colours, love them!

11) I wonder who drove there....Hope didn’t have a dl in s1 (but two years has past now?) while in 307, Josie apparently walked to Mystic Grill to find Finch(but Lizzie did drive before in s2)....so? I bet it’s Hope...but how the hell did they even have time for driving education?

12) Hope, looking at Josie: like I said, trap. 😂😂but she just doesn’t even get mad at Josie?? Exactly how many times did she let Josie escape like that?? Poor Landon got grilled when he lied😂

13) We don’t worry about dick here🤣🤣🤣🤣

14) I love Finch just confidently stand up for herself, challenging Jed. But no, I don’t like Jed being thrown down by a new wolf again. But having female alpha is appealing too, I love to see that when Finch challenge the old system, then get to improve the abusive hierarchy towards the omega/new wolf in the pack. I was conflicted. I love how they resolved the issue in the end! It’s win-win situation and I love how Jed and Finch bond! Brotp/Sistp! And I love that from Finch perspective, we can see that the wolves let Jed win because they love Jed as much because they know Jed cares about them a lot and just willing to let him win. Not because Jed was oppressing them.

15) Btw, I can’t believe they are using pool/billiards/snooker to decide who becomes the alpha. Really I just don’t like how it works, like leading a pack is a game. But some wolves are born alpha. In real life, a pack’s alpha is always the one to lead hunting, be vigilant of any threat that can harm the pack, they really care for their packs, like Jed. Whilst there’s this beta position in the pack, they recognise the alpha’s leadership, help the alpha keeping others in line, help take care of other members too. Just like what I’d imagined, Finch can fit the beta position very well, for the time being, because of their dynamics. I’m not saying that Finch doesn’t fit as alpha, I think that beta always has the potential to be the alpha of a pack. I just love that now the dynamics in the pack somehow really resembles how the social hierarchy of a pack of wolves in real life.

16) appreciation to Finch being badass at pool/snooker/billiards

17) when Andy just called Hope’s name, why don’t the trio be surprised? It’s not like they even meet before?

18) when MG showed up, I just immediately believe in him. Love that Alaric defended him. I understand Dorian though, he’s always sensitive of rippers as his family was butchered by one. Please don’t blame him too much. MG living in a cave breaks my heart, I just recalled that Hope was homeless when she’s out of Malivore too! Double heart breaks.

19) MG diaries! I’m so proud of him, even Alaric validates his effort and his kind heart! I just rewatched 106 last night to do some fact checking for my hosie interactions 2.0 and twins relationships 1.0. MG has always wanted to be a superhero that saves lives. He has grown so much, from first fighting zombies, to super squad fighting monster, until now, saving normal people lives. I bet now Penelope can’t laugh at him when he first pitched his feelings to Penelope. Good job!

20) I’ve talked about the Finsie sitting together, so I only want to talk about how the relationship between Finsie is healthy for one another (for now, and at least they are not cringy for these two episode).They function independently and Finch doesn’t need to constantly worry about Josie all the time, like what Penelope fear of. Ofc it may also because that the twins have grown healthier.

21) even though Hosie were mind controlled, I just love how they have unspoken understanding between each other😂 Josie doesn’t need to tell Hope to make Lizzie stay with them to have Hope “as sonnum” Lizzie. Then only Josie said “stay with us”.

22) Hizzie hugs, and HOPE ANDREA MIKAELSON 🤣

23) I just love how Lizzie knows what to say to break Josie’s peace, while Josie knows how to break Hope’s peace. I see another spoken parallel from 308 about blindspot😂 Lizzie -> Josie -> Hope.

24) so if the drug sometimes doesn’t work on Lizzie, that means that there are times that Lizzie is really blue! Really at peace! I’m so proud and happy for her! Go Lizzie!

25) “ALL I WANTED FOR YOU IS YOUR HAPPINESS” this is so powerful! My Hosie heart! And really the last painful sentence, is fact. I’m sad for Hope because she’s so into that relationship until she can’t bring herself to do it and only leads to Landon leaving, but it’s also classic Mikaelsons(I feel), never giving up for their love ones. Appreciation to Landon, but still it’s strike three for leaving, please don’t let them be together again. It’s derogatory to Hope’s self-esteem.

26) I love badass Hope so much!! All the bodies she left! If I’m not already gay, she would have bent me into a mosquito coil by that scene, (so bent that I can’t be straight anymore). I love how Josie just let Hope outing her anger on these witches, freeze Andy, waited patiently for Lizzie and Hope to deal with Andy together.

27) I died laughing at these Pandemonium 🤣🤣🤣🤣 the badass trio in panda suit😂😂😂😂 I can’t! They’re so cute! And the height difference🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

28) How Hope tries to focus and dead serious in dealing with the upcoming monster but fails inevitably and miserably at Josie’s antics! All Josie does is laughing cutely at Hope and poking(?) her.

29) I love the trio so much!

30) haven’t watched any Star Wars, so I really thought that the one in the mask was Clarke until the Star Wars theme song started😫 too bad that Landon must have missed it.

31) Lizzie kissing Ethan is the last thing ever to have crossed my mind, so again, what the fuck?(sorry, language)

32) when I first thought about team building, I was thinking about finch + MG + Jed + Kaleb, but pack bonding, I’m satisfied too.

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 14 - Unexpected Meeting

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, who will they run into?, 3.2k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

WARNINGS: death mention, emotional trauma

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13

“Man, I need a break,” Reggie was saying as he strolled with Alex down an unfamiliar street in the early evening, stretching his arms. “I mean, being in the studio all the time has been good, but on top of everything else it’s just so much!”

Unsure where they were headed, Alex walked a few paces ahead on the sidewalk, casually navigating for both of them. He squinted as he looked at Reggie.

“Reggie, you dropped, like, all of your classes once we signed on.”

“Nope!” his friend exclaimed, tilting his head in a proud manner. “I just needed two electives to graduate. It’s okay, though, man. Not everyone finishes their math requirements as a freshman.” Reggie patted Alex’s shoulder, as if it were any sort of consolation.

“No, good for you Reg,” Alex said. His parents had paid for all this private tutoring and even gotten him to take some college credits early. Of course, his only serious plan after high school had been the band so it was all wasted effort, but then all of their attempts with him amounted to that. He was learning to feel less guilty over it. It wasn’t his fault they never cared about what he wanted.

“How long do you think Luke and Bobby are gonna be workshopping their parts together?” Reggie asked.

“Long enough. Where are we going, exactly?”

“Oh, I was just kind of keeping an eye out for anywhere interesting.”

Alex blinked. “I thought we were headed somewhere specific.”

“I’ve only been to this side of L.A. like, once, so I don’t think I’d make a good tour guide,” Reggie stated.

And just like that, Alex’s mind thrust itself back into remembering Willie. He was getting better at not crumbling completely in the moment, but it still felt like his heart was temporarily dunked into a dark ocean of misery. It would remain waterlogged and heavy inside his chest for a while.

“Alex?” Reggie was saying, looking at him with concern. “You okay?”

Snapping his thoughts back to the present, Alex sighed as he looked back at Reggie.

“I’ll be fine.”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jean jacket and pressed his arms against his sides. Shoulders hunched, he continued through the crowd. Focusing on walking would hopefully help it wear off. He made every step purposeful, trying to get the weight in his heart to fall through his feet. Reggie’s hand on his shoulder made him turn.

“It’s still rough, isn’t it?” he asked gently. “If I said something - ”

“It’s not your fault,” Alex tried to assure him. “Sometimes it just comes out of nowhere. Besides, I can’t make you and everyone else walk on eggshells.”

“Maybe not, but we’re in this with you. It may have been different for us, but we all met Willie. I’d never seen you warm up to anyone that fast. Even after a few months, it’s still fresh; don’t force yourself to be better for us.”

Pausing on the sidewalk, Alex looked up at Reggie. He tried to smile as gratitude edged its way in, relieving most of the heaviness in his chest.

“I appreciate that, Reg.”

“Of course, man.”

“So,” Alex took a deep breath to let everything else wash away as they kept wandering. “You made it sound like you had a lot going on. Is everything at home okay?”

Reggie shrugged. “Eh...no change there. My mom went to stay with her sister after the last fight, so my dad’s been trying his best to take care of everything, but he’s too upset to handle it well. My little sister has just been sleeping over with friends anyway, and I can handle myself, so - ” he shrugged again, “ - you know, I do what I can.”

Alex nodded. He had nothing really to comment, and Reggie knew he was always there to support him. This wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it still wasn’t right. Neither of them spent much time at their own homes, so wandering through the city like this kept them occupied when they weren’t with the rest of the band. Looking up at the store signs around them, he saw a record store about a block ahead.

“Hey, why don’t we check that out?” he suggested.

“Yeah!” Reggie said, dropping any ounce of gloom from the previous subject and skipping along to catch up with Alex.

A small bell rang as they came through the door, and they immediately began filtering through shelves of records and CDs. Peeking toward the back of the store, Alex could see a counter that offered a menu of food and drinks, some tables, as well as the smallest stage in the world. This seemed like a neat little place.

“Oh,” Reggie started after a while. “I got us a gig playing at my cousin’s wedding.”

“A wedding?” Alex said skeptically, turning from the Pansy Division vinyl he was checking out. “When we’re trying to finish a record and go on tour?”

“It’s Conrad, okay, he’s family! And he said we could make the setlist.”

Alex shrugged, considering that was fair.

“...with his approval.”

At that addition, Alex could only sigh and shake his head.

“And then maybe, you could, I don’t know, finally ask Bobby to be your date?”

Reggie put down the Mötley Crüe album he’d been examining and looked up at him in shock. Alex realized he’d possibly been too blunt. But immediately Reggie began to cover it up, laughing and shaking his head.

“What?” he said, his denial completely transparent. “Was that a...was that supposed to be a joke or something?”

Giving him a look of pity, Alex put his hands on his hips.

“You’re really gonna try to pull the wool over the eyes of your gay friend?”

Caught, Reggie looked back at him in defeat and bowed his head.

“I’m gonna guess you noticed a while ago?”

Nodding, Alex tried to soften his demeanor. 

“There’s been something up with you two for months. How come you haven’t tried to talk to him about it?”

Reggie knit his brow and began fiddling with his fingers.

“Well, I’m a little confused by it, to be honest. Cuz, I mean...I like girls, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“But I like Bobby, too.”

“Okay.”

His friend looked up at him, expecting more of a reaction. Alex leaned against the shelf and folded his arms.

“Do you think there’s something wrong with you? Because you’re talking to the king of wrong feelings.”

“Well, sometimes I feel like that, but not really. It’s something else,” Reggie said.

“Like what?”

“Well...we’ve been friends for years. It just sort of crept up on me and I don’t know what to do. What if he rejects it? He’s one of my best friends.”

Thinking for a moment, Alex looked down at his feet. He didn’t blame Reggie for being worried. He’d had a mini crush on Bobby for a couple weeks back in ninth grade and had the same dilemma. It was easier for him to get over, though, simply because it had faded quickly.

“Well, I wish I could say if it’s meant to be it’ll happen, but sometimes…”

Sometimes it dies in a fire before there’s any chance of knowing.

He shook his head to get rid of the awful thought and ignored Reggie’s look of concern.

“But if I know Bobby, I don’t think it’s going to harm anything. I think you should go for it, Reg. I truly, honestly, will back you up on that.”

A smile spread wide across Reggie’s face.

“Thanks, man!”

Without fretting over it for another second, he turned back to the shelf of CDs he’d been perusing, and Alex did the same. There was a crazy good selection, and Alex wished he could get his hands on a record player. Playing CDs on a boombox worked for some things, but there was a level of charm in playing something on a vinyl record that appealed to him even more. He made a note to get a small notebook to carry in his fanny pack, hoping to return to this store and make a wishlist of sorts to work toward.

“Do I see Alex and Reggie of Sunset Curve?” A familiar voice said from behind.

Both of them turned to find Flynn standing in the aisle, braids tied up into a high ponytail and eyebrow arched in her usual smart fashion.

“Hey Flynn!” Reggie exclaimed, pulling her into a hug. Alex went in for one afterward, happily surprised.

“Hey guys!” she said, grinning.

“What are you up to?” Alex asked.

“Gonna be performing in a bit,” she said excitedly. “Just a warm up before the main group comes on. I’ve been working on some of my own stuff; I think you guys would love it! Got time to stick around?”

“Sweet!” Reggie raised a fist for her to bump. “I’m down. Alex, wanna stay?”

“Yeah, sounds great!”

He had yet to see what Flynn was capable of. If he were to judge only on knowing she’d been in a duo with Julie, he expected it to be good.

“Also, you should try the burritos here,” Flynn told them. “They are to die for!”

The endless click-rollll-click-click-click of his board filled his ears as Willie moved through the street, feeling the wind pass over him in the way that made freedom feel like he could clutch it in his hands. He’d actually spent today not worrying about Alex. It felt good not to dwell on what little past he had access to. Of course, he still had repetitive dreams about the few memories that had come back, but the backwards one with Caleb in it hadn’t come back ever since he’d gotten to LA. Moving forward felt...nice.

He had spent the morning sketching at the beach, getting all sorts of practice in. The beautiful waves, seagulls, the different activities all around him. Somehow a group of young college kids had gotten him to join their volleyball tournament. Willie wasn’t sure if he’d ever played it before, but once he caught onto the game, he’d gotten surprisingly good. It felt nice to roll up the hem of his jeans and dig his toes into the warm sand while playing with a group of strangers. They’d nicknamed him Mowgli, whatever that meant. He liked the sound of it though.

Heading off to work after cleaning himself up, he realized he could spend all his free time that way. Peacefully sketching, meeting fun people, and enjoying his surroundings. Was that all it took to be happy? Willie chuckled at the thought of how much Caleb had stressed over rising to the top of his business game, never appearing to be satisfied with any of it. Leaving Vegas remained the best decision he’d ever made. Of course, he wasn’t always proud about his method of burning down the shed, but it had been one of those...heat of the moment things.

Willie skated up to the back entrance and shook his hair out after lifting off his helmet. Just a few short hours of making food, some chill entertainment, and he could peace out for the night. He headed inside the store and right into the small kitchen. Thankfully, the store didn’t fit too many patrons and it was never hard to keep up with orders, and Kyle had a system so he never had to leave the kitchen. This basically meant he could jam to the live music during the lulls between orders with no interruption.

Kyle entered the kitchen just as Willie was tying on his apron.

“Hey, dude, thanks for coming. We actually got two acts coming in, so it should be a full crowd. Katelyn can be the MC for the first bit, but do you mind taking over for the second half?”

A twinge of excitement came over Willie and he lit up. He’d never gotten to try being an MC before.

“Don’t mind at all!” he said.

“Alright, man!” Kyle exclaimed. “First two orders up: swamp style nachos and a bog burrito.”

“Got it.”

“We’re up for a big night with these performances,” the girl hosting hyped up the crowd. “Let’s give it up for our artist of the night: Flynn Taylor!”

Reggie cupped his hands over his mouth as he hollered along with everyone else’s applause. Alex clapped with a mouthful of nachos. Flynn stepped onto the stage behind a set of deejay turntables, smirking as she began flipping switches and turning knobs.

“Thanks for coming out here everyone,” she said into the mic. More applause and whistles echoed through the room. “We’re gonna make a lot of noise tonight, so let me hear you get pumped!”

As she began playing a beat, Alex bobbed along, immediately interested. He didn’t know a thing about mixing, so he was highly impressed with the different sounds she was using. Then Flynn picked up the mic and began rapping and the whole room cheered.

“...I’m a princess, I don’t need a prince, boy I’m priceless...I’m here to shut it down like a night shift…”

“Man,” Reggie leaned over to Alex. “She’s so good! I say we book her to open for us ASAP as possible.”

Alex merely snorted and chuckled at Reggie’s misuse of the acronym. He actually enjoyed the idea of having Flynn rapping to open for their rock shows. Gigs where all the bands sounded the same got a little flavorless sometimes.

“Also,” Reggie said as he took a huge bite into his burrito. “This is the best burrito I’ve ever had.”

“Lemme try some, you can try my nachos,” Alex said.

All Reggie could say was Mm! as he passed the burrito over.

The final beats of the first performer echoed in the kitchen where Willie had been dancing, waving various kitchen tools around. He’d thoroughly enjoyed the whole set, and wondered what sounded so familiar about the girl who was rapping. Before he could spend more time thinking about it, Kyle came in.

“Okay, you ready?” he asked.

“I just keep people busy and then announce the next group, right?” Willie guessed.

“Yeah, man, you’ve got this!”

“What’s the next group called?”

“Downslide. And they brought some merch, so it’s a good idea to mention that to the crowd as well.”

“Okay,” Willie nodded, slipping out of his apron. “Maybe I could put their t-shirt on or something, you know, sell the look?”

Kyle looked impressed. “Yeah! I’ll go see what they’ve got.”

He left the kitchen and hardly a minute later returned with a jacket.

“They said you could wear it for the night. Not gonna lie, I wish I could wear this, it’s a sweet jacket.”

Willie slipped it on, and turned around. He didn’t often wear jackets, but whatever it was made of was pretty soft.

“Guess I’m ready,” he said, giving Kyle a hand slide and fist bump before leaving the kitchen. He stepped up behind the microphone and looked out at the crowd, and further back, the empty store.

At that moment, he heard the bell of the store door ring and two guys walked outside. Through the window, a familiar leather jacket passed. Then, he saw a head of blonde hair follow, turning to look both ways to cross the street, and his heart grew to fill all the empty space in his chest. It was unmistakable. It had to be.

“Alex...” he breathed quietly into the microphone. Adrenaline immediately went out to his extremities. The crowd before him looked bewildered as they waited for him to announce the next group.

Glancing offstage, he saw Kyle give him a strange look. Willie shook his head, unclear what message he was sending but ultimately knowing he couldn’t stay at his current spot. Before he could think anything else, his legs were bounding out the door. It felt like every ounce of blood in his veins knew. The search was over.

Reggie and Alex had just reached the opposite corner. He wasn’t going to miss his chance.

“Alex!” he cried, running to meet them.

He immediately thrust his arms around a surprised Alex, gripping him tightly, burying his face into his shoulder.

“Oh my god, Alex!” he said, panting. “It’s so good to see you.”

He didn’t feel the hug didn’t reciprocate, and instead Alex grabbed his shoulders and pushed him away. The darkness of the street seemed to envelop him.

“What are you - ?” Alex started, staring back at Willie like he’d just been assaulted. Then shock wiped over his whole face. Then confusion. And then a pain came over all of it that made Willie’s concern grow.

“What - what is it?” he asked, all the excitement gone.

Alex wouldn’t look him in the eye, and he raised a hand to hold the side of his head.

“No, this isn’t real,” he whispered to himself, shrinking backward and shutting his eyes. “This can’t be real.”

Willie glanced over at Reggie, who also stared like he was seeing the impossible. He could see Alex shaking and heard a rattled breath, and felt tension grow thick in the air. Quickly, he went to take Alex’s face in his hands.

“Alex, hey, look, it’s me,” he soothed. He fought to get a look directly into his eyes. “It’s me, Willie.”

Finally, the green ocean gazed back at him, turbulent and restless. What once had been a grounding rhythm of waves had turned into a maelstrom of despair. Even worse were the tears welling up right before him. Willie watched the storm rage for a few seconds, seeking for a moment of calm.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured, lowering his hands. Alex looked so wounded it frightened him.

“How are you alive?” Alex begged to know.

Blinking, Willie sat back, astounded at those words. While he agreed it was a miracle he was still alive, he couldn’t fathom why Alex would ask such a question. He chuckled merely out of discomfort.

“I’m here.” Willie glanced at Reggie, looking for an explanation. “Flesh and bone. Why? What happened?”

Alex looked at him incredulously, jaw hanging open. He looked so tightly wound and so scattered all at once. 

“Caleb told me you were dead.”

Willie blanched inwardly at the mention of Caleb, but even more so at the rest of that sentence he’d been utterly unprepared to hear.

“He...he - ” he stammered for a moment. “When would you have even talked to him?”

Sharing a look with Reggie, Alex took a deep breath. Then he looked back at Willie hesitantly.

“We see him all the time. We work for him now.”

It was Willie’s turn to drop his jaw.

“We’ve been signed to his record label for a few months now,” Reggie pitched in.

Directing his gaze to the ground, Willie puzzled for a minute.

“Why would I be dead?” he asked, looking back up at Alex.

For a minute Alex simply gazed at him wordlessly.

“I don’t know,” he said. There was a pause as both of them finally looked at each other, fully aware that this was real. And then Alex threw his arms around Willie to return the hug. Willie had to raise himself up on his toes to avoid falling over, and he tightened his grip to remain steady. He felt joy spread through his whole torso and breathed a sigh of relief as hands tangled into his hair. “But that doesn’t matter. I’m so happy to see you.”

[vodkaxtonic]

Hello there! If it tickles your fancy, could you write a Zuko x reader one shot?? Like a college au thing and they’re doing a group project together haha

Journey Of Love •Zuko x Reader•

This took really long and I put a lot of effort into it! Feedback is appreciated! And, I kinda went off the request but still tried to keep the main thing of the request, I hope that's okay!

Warnings: fluff, slow burn, humor, cussing

Wordcount: 9.5K

The first week in the Ba sing se University should be calm, merely to get used to the school, gather all your supplies, wander around the University, to make sure you won't get lost on the real first day, and decorate your dorm room. Or so you thought. 

The first thing that went completely wrong were the people that should've brought your stuff from home to the University, to make your room more home-ish and make you feel welcome. They went to the wrong fucking University and left your furniture, decor, and paintings, etc. on their doorstep, which then got stolen. Which means you were in an empty dorm, only two beds, and two closets decorating your room, nothing to make you feel home. Your things, decor, etc. were homey to you, keeping you from being homesick, but now? Now you felt lost, basically half of your identity lost with the furniture, books, and clothes that got stolen. Now the only thing people would see was another firebender; you just wanted to be yourself in the time you were here. You had bought different clothes and shipped them with the other stuff, and now the only thing you had in your suitcase was traditional Fire Nation attire.

The second thing that ruined your week was your professor. Every other professor was going in small steps, slowly introducing their students into the subject they chose to study. But yours? Hell, no. Professor Huang jumped right into projects, even though you haven't learned anything yet. Maybe art wasn't such an appealing subject to study after all.

The last thing that completely ruined your week? You had to hand in a project in a week, an abstract piece of art that described love, with a whole essay as to why those exact things reminded you of love and how it changed your perspective. All of the material you were using had to be foundable around the city, whether in the local market or on a deserted field in the second ring of Ba sing se. But the absolute best thing was your partner that you got assigned with wasn't even in the lecture! You had to do everything on your own, and honestly, you were considering if jumping out of your third-floor dorm room window was more uncomplicated than the first week. 

Now you were scurrying through the hallways of your new University, just wanting to go to your room and fall into bed. You needed the nap after getting yelled at by your professor for saying that love was a social construct to make us less lonely, a social construct to make us feel like we are more than a tiny pawn in a big game of chess played by the universe. Well, your professor didn't like that at all, even though he had said the first day that he enjoyed a critical view of different perspectives of the world and emotions. Well, everything except love. 

You walked around the corner, your books dropping to the ground as you lifted your hands, blocking the flames that came your way out of instinct. "What the actual fuck?!" You yelled, now the last bit of calmness in your body disappeared, and you were on the verge of absolutely setting this place ablaze. "I thought you were my sister--" "I don't give a fuck! You could've seriously hurt someone! Who the fuck do you think you are?" You yelled, your heart still beating way too fast, you felt like you just bent with lightning. Your skin felt like it got ignited, your fingers shaking and sparking with tiny flames fire. "You don't know who I am?" He asked rather shocked as he stood up straight, his face filled by surprise. "Should I know you? Your mom and dad probably bought you your education, and you're just here because it's their dream for you, but you don't give a fuck, and they'll end up having to buy you your University degree too, you entitled stupid prat!" You decided to let your anger out on the stranger, your hands balled to fists, and between your fingers escaped black smoke, slowly dissolving in the air. The stranger looked taken aback as he watched you for a few seconds. "This right here was your biggest mistake, honey." "Fuck you." You spat back as you picked up your books, storming past him into your dorm room. "Well, that's a pleasant way to meet the people next door." You heard his faint voice in the hallway, and you could imagine the sly smirk on his face. You exhaled deeply through your nose, black smoke covering your vision for a second before you slammed the door shut, the ground vibrating at the force. A frustrated groan escaped your mouth as you walked towards your bed. "So, you met Zuko?" Your head snapped toward the girl that was sitting on the second bed in the room that was previously unoccupied, and only now, you saw that her whole wall decorated with circus posters. Another groan escaped your mouth as you dropped onto your bed, covering your head with a pillow. This week felt like a big stupid fucking joke. "I'm Ty Lee, by the way." The girl was nice, you figured. However, you were in a bad mood. "Y/n." You mumbled into your pillow, still loud enough for her to hear. "Do you need a hug?" She asked, a frown covering her mouth as she picked up on your bad mood. "I need quietness and a nap." You answered, your voice cold as you turned your back to her and pulled your duvet over you. You needed a break right now to make sure you wouldn't commit arson. Your patience was gone, and the first week of University was probably the worst one in history. 

The next day started worse than the days before. You slept in, now running down the hallways of the Uni with bed hair and the clothes you had slept in, a red satin top and red long satin pants. You didn't want to be late in your first week, what kind of impression would that leave, especially on Professor Huang. Your feet took you down the corridors, and finally, you found your lecture room, and you burst in, making everyone turn to you. "I am so sorry, Professor Huang, I--" "Go take a seat, Ms. Y/L/N." You nodded, your head bowed in shame as your eyes scanned the packed lecture room. The room was almost overflowing with students, leaving only a few seats free, the some that were free got blocked by the bags of the students. When you finally spotted an empty chair, you inhaled deeply, quickly making your way over. You were pretty sure your face was a deep shade of crimson red, the whole situation uncomfortable and embarrassing. Without looking further, you dropped your bag next to the table, sitting down in the chair in the very first row. "Hello again." Your whole body tensed at the voice beside you. "I'm glad you found the seat beside your project partner, Ms. Y/L/N." Professor Huang said, and your jaw almost kissed the ground. "Professor Huang, is there any way I can do the project on my own?" You pleaded as you looked at your Mr. Huang, hoping that batting your eyelashes would help. "I'm sorry, Ms. Y/L/N. I put you and prince Zuko in the same group for a reason. You both grew up in the Fire Nation, he grew up in royalty and you in poverty. I want to know the different perspectives on how you perceive love." Your teeth ground painfully against each other as you stared at your Mr. Huang. "A simple no would've been fine." You tried to stay as calm as you could, hoping to forget that he just told the whole lecture that you grew up in poverty and the fact that you insulted a prince. "Anyway, Ms. Y/L/N, we just talked about the projects. How is your and prince Zuko's coming together?" You gulped the lump in your throat down as you looked at Mr. Huang. "I started gathering some things for the project already, but I didn't start putting them on the canvas." He only nodded before continuing the lecture, not giving you a second glance. With a quiet whine, you let your head fall onto your books, and you could hear Zuko chuckle. This day wasn't going as good as you hoped it'd be. 

"Meet me at six in the library." You said to him without looking at him, putting away your books as you stood up. "Why not in your room or mine? I mean, our rooms are right next to each other." Zuko asked as he stood up. "Because I don't want you in my room, and I'm not going to your room." You answered, heaving your bag over your shoulders before walking out of the room, leaving Zuko on his own. 

PROJECT LOVE DAY 1/4

You sat in the library, your foot tapping against the wooden ground in rhythm as you read a book you had snatched from one of the shelves. You decided to be there a little earlier than planned, wanting to have some quiet time from your roommate before meeting Zuko. You liked Ty Lee, but the girl never knew when to stop talking, and if you went to the library already annoyed, you knew this wouldn't end very well. However, Zuko still managed to be late, which was no surprise. In your eyes, he was a spoiled brat. 

You didn't bother to look up from your book when the chair across of you screeched over the ground, earning dirty glances from the other students that studied in the library. "Can you at least look at me?" Zuko's voice was laced with annoyance as he looked at you, but you just turned to the next page. "You're late." You stated to obvious, not being able to concentrate on the sentence with Zuko's intense stare. "Sorry, princess, I have other things to do than doing this project with you." He muttered, making you huff as you closed the book. Your eyebrows furrowed when you realized he was empty-handed. "It's our grade, you idiot. Also, where the hell is your stuff?" "What stuff?" He furrowed his eyebrows, and you couldn't help but groan at his oblivious behavior. "The things that remind us of love, you know, the stuff. I can't and won't do this project on my own, your highness." Your voice layered with annoyance, anger, and plain mockery. You didn't give two flying fucks that he was royalty, in Ba Sing Se Zuko was simply another student, equal to you and not above you. 

Zuko crossed his arms, leaning back in the chair, face grimaced by anger. He kept quiet, and you wondered where his snarky remark was. "Do you even have things that remind you of any kind of affection? Like, anything?" You asked as your mind caught up with what was going on. He probably didn't receive a lot of affection due to his royal descended. The Fire Nation was a nation of no emotion but anger, which had troubled you a lot growing up. You never seemed to fit in with them, one of the many reasons you wanted to go to Ba Sing Se to study instead of the Fire Nation. 

He didn't answer, and that was answer enough for you as you sighed, standing up. His eyes followed every move you made with a way of alertness that scared you a bit. You put your book back where you got it from, before walking back to the table and putting away the canvas that was on the table. With a quiet groan, you heaved the bag over your shoulder, starting to walk towards the exit, before turning around. Zuko hadn't moved an inch, though, his head turned as he looked at you over his shoulder. "Are you waiting for a written invitation?" You asked, rolling your eyes as you watched him standing up, not caring to wait for him as you left the library, breathing in the warm evening air. "Where are we going?" Zuko asked as he came up beside you, but your eyes locked on the sunset. You watched the pink in the sky that mixed with the reds and oranges as if they always have belonged together, despite their differences. You grinned, your eyes quickly glancing towards the prince that looked weirdly attractive in the pink lightning that shun upon him. "Finding the path of love. But first some food, I'm starving." 

Soon you found both of you standing in front of a restaurant. "Something against spicy chicken noodle soup?" You asked, raising your eyebrows. It was just politeness, you would go in there alone, but he was with you, so it was polite to ask. "Nope." He shrugged, following your suit as you walked inside. "A table for two," you said to the waitress that stood at the door as she greeted you. As soon as her gaze fell upon Zuko, her cheeks heated up, and she started fiddling with the menus in her hand nervously, her other hands running through her jet black hair. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. He wasn't that attractive, you thought, but maybe you thought that because your first encounter was heated, and you didn't mean your anger issue problem.

"So, what is love by your definition?" You asked as you waited for your food to cool down, not wanting to burn yourself even though you had a high pain tolerance towards hot things. It's the firebender genes. "Strictness, dominance, god-complex." He shrugged, not caring that his food was hot. You knew that he was eating to keep him from answering your questions, which annoyed you even more. "You have a shit perspective of love." You muttered, taking a sip of your black tea, eyeing the prince. Right now, he didn't seem like the royal pratt you had met, just like a normal boy you went to a restaurant with, a friend even. However, you knew differently. He could be an asshole, an arrogant one if he wanted to, but right now, he wasn't, and you were more than glad. "What's love by your definition?" He asked, mouth full, and you grimaced a bit. That wasn't royal behavior, but you shrugged it off. "For me, love is little things. I grew up in a harsh environment, not a lot of money. Little things like my mother remembering my favorite fruit and buying it when she had leftover money, or my sister crafting me a necklace from pretty stones she had found by the lake near our property, or my father saving money up for me to buy new clothes. It wasn't a lot, but it showed their affection towards me." You said, a smile covering your lips as you remembered your family. If it wouldn't have been for the poverty, the struggle of getting money to have food on the table and days going without it, your family would've been perfect. "I didn't even get that." He scoffed as he stopped eating, his eyes gazing over the people that passed the restaurant. "I mean, I had plenty of money all my life. I should've been happy, I had food, I had clothes and my family bought me anything I wanted. But money doesn't buy love and money doesn't buy happiness. Your family held together, even in tough times. Mine was scattered all over the place, trying to buy the lack of affection they were showing. A story to bawl to, isn't it?" Zuko immediately wanted to take back what he had said, knowing that he went in too deep. He doesn't know you, and now he spilled his traumatic and lonely childhood with you, and he couldn't help but be jealous of you. He'd rather have no money and a family than money and no family. And you couldn't help but feel sorry for him, not knowing that being royal means being lonely, but you were pretty sure it was his family and not because he was a royal. His family was dysfunctional, whether with or without money.

You finished your bowl of chicken noodle soup in silence, which felt like it was suffocating both of you. "Can we get the check, please?" Zuko asked the waitress that came to your table. You started digging through your bag. "I'll get it." "No!" You exclaimed, voice stern as you got out the money, taking Zuko's shock to your advantage as you paid, keeping the check. "I could've paid for that," Zuko said as he stood up, and following you out of the restaurant into the night that had set over Ba Sing Se. "Love doesn't only come from family, but also friends. It's paying for someone else, little acts of kindness, and when they stack up upon each other, you'll look back to it and realize it's a form of love." You said as you looked up into the night sky, seeing endless stars covering the sky. "Doesn't mean we're friends, but I can be a kind person if I'm not getting a blast of fire shot at my face." 

PROJECT LOVE DAY 2/4

You were once again waiting in the library, the same book from yesterday in your hand. To your surprise, Zuko managed to show up on time as he sat down across you, a weirdly happy expression on his face as you put down your book. "What is it, Mr. Hotpants?" You asked, the random nickname coming to your mind, and you decided to just roll with it, realizing it was a huge mistake. "So, you think I'm hot?" Zuko smirked, his ego blasting through the roof as you rolled your eyes. "Hot because firbender--Nevermind, why are you so happy?" You decided to not defend yourself, way too tired from your work shift after the lecture. It was a small job, helping out in a small grocery store, but it was still exhausting, especially with studying. "I planned the day!" He grinned excitedly. "For what?" You furrowed your eyebrows, tiredly rubbing your eyes. "Our journey to find love!" He said a little too loud, and you couldn't help but blush as you realized the people that sent smiles your way. "I think I found mine, but I'm up for whatever you planned to find yours." You shrugged with a smile, standing up as you followed him. 

That wasn't the same Zuko from two days ago. Not the cocky, arrogant Zuko. It also wasn't the Zuko from yesterday, the one that opened up to you a bit, showing you his vulnerable state and his lonely past. No, this was today's Zuko, who seemed to be giddy, a childish like the behavior you couldn't help but adore as he pulled you down the street by the sleeve of your jacket. "Wow, calm down there!" You couldn't help but laugh as you stumbled behind him, trying not to trip. "Close your eyes." He stopped in his tracks, making you bump into his back, stumbling back a bit. "Do you think we're at that stage of trust?" You raised your eyebrows, a small smile on your face as you watched him pout. "Come on! It's for 20 seconds." He pleaded, and you gave in, closing your eyes, and he walked behind you, his hands on your shoulders as he guided you to a more lively part of town, the chattering of people filling up your ears. "Where are we going?" "Journey of love, I told you!" Zuko exclaimed, not wanting to give it away. 

Zuko grabbed your shoulders a bit more tightly as he stopped, keeping you from stumbling into the people that passed you. "Open your eyes." So, you did, and for a few seconds, you were speechless as you looked through the street. You looked at the many people that walked beside you, some of them couples, fresh in a relationship and happy with their significant other, others with friends, laughing as they walked the street in groups and old married couples that wanted to take a stroll, happily smiling at each other. "We are at the town festival." You beamed, as you looked around, looking at the different shops around you, some of them having cans stacked for people to throw over, the prizes stuffed animals and little toys. Others sold foods from all over the world, a puppet show for children, firebenders making a fire show, earthbenders changing rocks into animals, waterbenders selling healing water, and offering free healing for the people in need. It was breathtaking. "I figured this was a great place to go find the path of love. Couples come here, friends come here, even people that mistake a stranger for their sister and send a fireball their way come here." You both chuckled at the last part, and you shook your head. "I can't remember the last time I was at a town festival." You smiled, but you couldn't help but frown afterward. Your family never had enough money to come to a place like this, so the only thing you could do was walk through the streets as a child, wondering why every other family could afford this, but not yours. Only later you realized, it wasn't only saddening you, but also your parents. They wanted to give their daughters everything in life but had no money to do so.

"Come on, we are not just going to look at others having fun!" Zuko urged you, and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and amusement as he joyfully wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you along through the crowd of people. "What do you want to do first?" "Oh Zuko, I don't have any money with me-" You stumbled over your words, embarrassed as you tried to explain that you left your money in your drawer in the dorm, but he cut you off. "No worries, my treat." He gave you an encouraging smile. "Little acts of kindness will stack upon each other, and looking back at it, you will realize that it is a form of love." He said as he tried to quote your words from yesterday, making you smile a bit. You didn't think he'd even remember any of the words you said, the unheard words you usually recited inside your head. 

"Is this a journey of love?" Zuko asked as he took a bite of the extra spicey fried duck, a Fire Nation national dish. Everything was a Fire Nation dish if it was spicy enough. You decided that you didn't want to suffer twice, so you stuck with a traditional Water Tribe fish soup with water plumbs. "Is it for you? Do you feel loved, like a warm feeling making itself present within your chest, making you feel all giddy?" You asked as you looked at Zuko. You liked this Zuko. For once, he seemed like he was genuinely happy, no cocky grin and no snarky remarks, just pure joy filling every atom of his body. "I do, but I'm not sure if it's the spicy duck or that we're here today." He chuckled, and you smiled as you gave the man behind the counter your empty bowl, thanking him as Zuko paid for both of you. "You know, this is something I never could enjoy with my family. My father used to say that the royal people were too good to be in town with people like this." Zuko said as he eyed the crowd, a humble smile on his face. "He was wrong. It's amazing. It makes you feel like you're alive for once, that your future is not set by the family you were born in. It makes you feel like you're apart of something bigger than yourself. That you have a purpose in your life." 

In silence, you walked back to the University, but you didn't mind. It gave you time to think, and you had to admit, you started liking Zuko's company. Your eyes glanced over to the throne prince, who seemed to be a normal teenage boy for once, walking beside you, his feet kicking small rocks through the street. You couldn't tell if it was your tiredness speaking, or the fact that you were still too euphoric, but as you glanced at him, something inside you warmed up. Something about his face lit by the yellow lighting of the lanterns, the way a soft, small smile covered his face when he managed to kick one of the stones against a lantern post, was different. You were intrigued by him, and every second you kept looking at him, he seemed to get even more handsome. You weren't quite sure what to think about you thinking that way, but you didn't mind it too much.   It was because you were tired, you figured. You almost hoped. If this isn't going to fade tomorrow, you know it'd bite you in the ass later. 

"Wait!" Zuko stopped you from entering your room, your door already halfway open as you turned back around, your face filled with confusion. He rummaged through his pocket, before fishing out a green satin bag with the Earth Kingdom sigil on it, handing it to you. "What is it?" You asked, confused as you felt the bag, not having a clue what it was. "A surprise." He grinned as he walked towards his door. "Why?" You asked, now making him turn around, his hand on the door handle. "No reason." Again, the soft smile that seemed to melt your insides as he stepped inside his room, leaving you alone in the hallway.

You entered your room, closing the door behind you and lighting a fire in your hand, expecting the bag in your other palm. "What is that?" You flinched as Ty Lee came up to you, her face filled by curiosity. "I don't know yet." You answered, truthfully, as you walked over to your bed, lighting the candle on your bedside table. "Who gave it to you?" Ty Lee questioned as she took a seat beside you on your bed, and you looked at her. "Zuko." You muttered, and you could imagine the way her face lightened up. "Open it, open it!" She urged you, and you snickered as you opened the satin bag, pulling out a little stone figure. It was smooth between your fingers, precisely made. "It's a turtleduck." Ty Lee said in awe as she took it in between her fingers. "You must mean a lot to him if he gave you this." Ty Lee smiled, giving you the little figure. "Why?" You questioned. Zuko said he gave you this for no reason, so why would you mean a lot to him if he gave you this. Ty Lee stood up with a sigh, walking over to her bed and sat down. She gazed at you, but it seemed like she was in her world when she started speaking. "Back in the palace, they have a garden. They have a pond with a turtleduck family. Zuko and his mother used to feed them together all the time. It's a precious memory for him. Usually, he gets irritated when you bring this up because he misses his mother. She left him at a very young age." Ty Lee explained, and you gaped at her. "It's not something usual for Zuko to do, the whole present thing. But even more unusual is that he gave you a part of his most precious memories." Ty Lee leaned back in her bed and covered herself in her duvet, before chirping a goodnight and turning around, leaving you stunned. You changed into your pajamas before returning into your bed, snuffing out the candle, leaving you in complete darkness as your fingers still fiddled with the stone figure, taking in every edge and corner of it. You couldn't help but wonder as to why Zuko would give you something so close to his heart, so close to his safe place as you started falling into a deep slumber. 

PROJECT LOVE DAY 3/4

Your foot tapped against the wooden ground of the library impatiently. This morning after the lecture, you and Zuko had agreed to meet earlier than usual since falling asleep that late took a toll on your concentration. He agreed, but now you waited in the library for over an hour, and your patience was running low. 

After another thirty minutes passing, you groaned quietly, cursing under your breath as you went to the dorms. You wouldn't let Zuko get away with this. With heavy footsteps, you walked over to his room, your fingers loudly knocking against the door. Suprise filled your face as a boy you didn't know opened the door, his desperate eyes filling with relief as he saw you. "Thank god, you're here. You're y/n, right?" You raised your eyebrows, nodding. "Zuko was threatening to roast me like a winged pig if I didn't hurry to the library to tell you that he wouldn't be able to make it. Thank god you're here, though! Now you can take care of him!" The boy dashed past you with a grateful smile, leaving you in a door stunned before you heard a faint 'Sokka, you jerk!' from inside the room. Slowly you opened the door, and your eyes met Zuko's pale body, he laid in his bed, shirtless, shivering, a thin layer of sweat covering his body as weak groans left his mouth. He looked at you, opening his mouth, but before he could say something, he leaned over the bucket beside his bed, vomiting. Your anger vanished as you speed walked over to him, kneeling beside him as you rubbed your warm hand over his sweaty back, but you couldn't care less about that. Your other hand found it's way to his long hair, holding it out of his face as he groaned in pain, his back muscles flexing under your hand. A frown covered your face as he finally stopped, now laying back into his bed, wiping his mouth with a cloth that settled on his bedside table. "You shouldn't see me like this." His voice was low as he turned to the side, not only because it would be easier to reach the bucket but because he craved to see your face. The worry in your eyes made his heart warm up. He couldn't exactly explain why. "Do you think you could survive thirty minutes without me?"

After you got Zuko's approval and provided him with water, and an emptied bucket, you raced out of the door into your room, taking a weaved basket off of the top of your closet. "Where are you going?" Ty Lee asked her arm wrapped around her girlfriend you had met this morning, Mai, by her side. Ty Lee was right, Mai did look like she had no emotions. "I need to get some stuff from the market. I need to take care of Zuko." You answered, now both Ty Lee and Mai intrigued. "What's wrong with him?" Mai asked as she raised her eyebrows in question. "I don't know he's not feeling too well, basically barfing his guts out." You answered with a frown. Of course, you felt unwell, leaving him on his own, but you wanted to get some things that made you feel better when you were sick, and maybe it'd make him feel better, too. "We can join you, so you get back faster." Ty Lee proposed after she saw your face filled with distress. "You would do that?" You asked, hopeful. Things would go much faster, and that meant you wouldn't have to leave him on his own for too long. "Of course, right Mai?" "I guess."

You gave everyone a list of things they'd have to get, and you guys split up, roaming over the marketplace and the shops surrounding it. You walked past the fruits and came to a halt in front of your favorite fruit, watermelon. You picked a smaller one, paying for it before making your way over the market. Maybe, just maybe, this was the little safe memory you could share with Zuko after he had shared one with you, even though you weren't quite aware of it. Your mother's remedy that always nursed you back to health. 

"We got everything you asked us for, and do you know how nice I had to be for the man in the teashop to lend you the teapot?" Mai said, and you thanked her as you put the teapot inside your weaved basket, hoping it wouldn't spill. "And I got the bowl of chicken soup, careful it's hot!" You also thanked Ty Lee as she smiled brightly at you. "Thank you, guys. You don't know how much I appreciate it." You thanked them, and you were genuine. "I get it, you worry about him. We're happy to help." Ty Lee exclaimed with a soft smile, her hand resting on your upper arm. "She's happy to help, I tolerate it." You nodded towards Mai, noting the ghost of a smile on her face. 

Your knuckles lightly knocked against Zuko's door, but the only thing you got met with was silence. Slowly you opened the door, flinching as Ty Lee carefully put the two last things you had asked her to get inside the basket. You gave her a thankful nod before slipping through the gap of the door, closing it behind you. You noted Zuko's slow breathing, and you were happy that he was sleeping instead of puking his guts out. You placed the basket onto the ground, walking over to Zuko. As your eyes roamed over his body, you frowned. He looked a lot paler than he already was, body covered in sweat as he turned, grunting in pain. With a small sigh escaping your mouth, you took the water bucket Sokka had left, taking one of the fresh clothes that settled on his bedside table. You proceeded to drench the cloth before walking over to Zuko, taking the lukewarm one from his forehead, throwing it on the ground. You grabbed another piece of fabric and soaked it with water, starting to dab his chest and neck a bit. 

"You're back." Zuko's voice was raspy as he looked at you, your eyes glancing over to his face before you continued trying to cool down his burning body. "How long was I sleeping?" "Not long, I only came here a minute ago, and I left ten minutes ago." You said as you dropped the fabric next to the other one. "How are you feeling?" You asked, the back of your hand pressing against his cheek, but he was still burning up, and it worried you. "Like a flying bison crushed me." He chuckled weakly, his eyes following you as you walked over to the basket. "I got you some things to nurse you back to health. Well, at least it helped me." You shrugged with a smile as you walked over. Zuko could have sworn something inside him was alive, his stomach felt all...fluttery? It was weird, and he didn't know what to think about it. "Why?" He asked, and he was seriously curious. You knew each other for six days now, and one and a half of them Zuko was a total dick, and now you were worried sick about him. "Because taking care of someone who is sick is another form of showing affection." You smiled, and you were glad that the room was dimly lit, else he would've seen the blush that crept up your face. You never blushed, what the hell was wrong to with you? "And because you showed me a part of one of the happiest memories in your life, even though I was completely unaware of it, so now I'm showing you mine." Zuko smiled softly before his face turned to confusion, then to annoyance. "Ty Lee." He muttered, his face burning up, and you pretended not to see it.

Your arm tucked a bit under Zuko as you helped him to move up a bit. He was too weak to eat by himself, every bone in his body aching, and every muscle strained. Of course, it embarrassed him a bit. He wanted to eat by himself and do everything you were doing for him by himself, but he physically couldn't. "Wait!" You said more to yourself as you put the steaming bowl onto the ground, rummaging through the basket until your hand grasped a small container that Ty Lee had slipped inside the basket. "What's that?" He asked as you opened the container, the smell of eucalyptus filling up the room. "It's something my mother uses when I'm sick. It's a homemade balm." You took a big glop of the balm, putting the container on the ground before rubbing it between your palms. Hesitantly you pressed one of your palms onto his chest, stopping when his muscles tensed, looking at him, but he only nodded, signaling you to keep going. You proceeded to cover his chest and back with it, covering him with a blanket. "Is it supposed to get warm?" Zuko panicked a bit as his eyes tried to find yours, but you were busy cleaning your hands. Getting this into your eyes hurt like a bitch. "Yes, that's the whole magic." You grinned, before taking a seat on the bed with the bowl, as you started spoon-feeding him. 

The more Zuko's eyes laid on you, the more he felt himself falling. Falling for you. He wasn't sure if he wanted this, you made him feel warm, happy, and everything he wasn't without you. But the thought of you leaving someday, taking those feelings with you, shredded his heart. On the other hand, Zuko always expected the worst. Zuko never knew anything else than the feeling of anger, of forced narcissism to hide his vulnerability and pain behind, and loneliness. But seeing you giving a part of your day solely to him, to make him feel better, made him feel things he couldn't describe even if he wanted to. He also figured you probably weren't feeling the same things he did, and Zuko wondered maybe if he wouldn't have wanted to play that stupid prank on Azula if you both would've met on good terms.

"Did you brew that yourself?" Zuko asked out of curiosity as you got the teapot out of the basket, filling it into a mug you had found inside Zuko's bedside table. "Oh, god no. I wouldn't know how to brew tea correctly if my life depended on it." You chuckled before holding the warm, still steamy mug out for him. After the soup, he had regained some strength and had insisted on drinking the tea by himself. After a lot of arguing and 'don't come crying to me if you spill it and burn yourself,' you agreed. Zuko's face twisted into disgust as he took a sip of the tea. "What the fuck is that?" "Unsweetened lemon ginger tea. I know it's awful, but it's even more awful with sugar, and it helps." You reassured him. He gave you a skeptical look, but you had gotten it, so he would down it, even if it tasted like straight-up acid. "That's where the watermelon comes in!" You grinned as you got out the watermelon, starting to cut it, and Zuko looked even more confused. "It takes away the disgusting taste of the tea, and it's refreshing." Your smile was soft as you gave him a piece of it. You were right. It felt amazing, going down his throat, and even the tea tasted delicious with it. 

"Is someone getting tired?" You smiled warmly at Zuko, kneeling beside his bed as he looked at you through half-opened eyes. "Maybe." He chuckled, tiredly rubbing his eyes. "Go to sleep I'll stay here for a bit and tomorrow you'll feel like you've been reborn." You chuckled as you rummaged through your basket, getting out the book you had asked Ty Lee to get from the library. "Is that the book you read in the library?" Zuko asked, tired eyes squinting at the cover of the book, trying to make sense of the letters. "Yes, I quite like it, and it kills time." "Read it to me." For a second, you gaped at Zuko, and he felt instant regret and embarrassment. "Never-" "Okay." You smiled, a smile that told him not to worry about it, that you didn't find his request weird. 

Zuko lifted his head, head tilted slightly, a non-verbal invitation for you to sit down and replace your thighs with the pillow. And the way he was looking at you, so lovingly, calm and innocent, you couldn't deny him anything right now as you sat down, and he made himself comfortable on top of your legs as you leaned your back against the wall, opening the book. "Where should I start?" You asked, voice soft as you looked down at him, seeing him blink slowly, as tiredness started to fill every ounce of his body. He felt safe and comfortable with you, now the drowsiness that usually hit after three hours of tossing and turning, hitting him within a minute. "I don't care." He muttered, struggling to keep his eyes open, words slightly slurred. "I just like listening to your voice."

So, you started reading aloud and even kept reading after his breaths were even, face peacefully nuzzled into the soft fabric of your pants, one of his hands tucked between your thigh and his head. You kept reading for a few more hours, in silence, sometimes glancing outside to see the sun going down. When you realized that it was too dark to read, but still not quite too dark yet, you put the book away, your gaze once again roaming over Zuko's softened features highlighted by the sun that was starting to set. He looked angelic like he did not worry about anything in the world. A faint smile formed itself upon your lips as you let your finger, just as light as a breeze, caress his cheek. Your smile widened when he scrunched up his nose, burying his face even more in your thighs. 

That was when you realized it. You were falling. You were falling hard and fast, with no way to stop it. No way to brace yourself for impact, no way to brace your heart for collision with reality. You sighed deeply, silently cursing yourself within your mind for your emotions, but when you gazed back down to him. Your eyelids started feeling heavy as you watched Zuko, heart filled with warmth. Maybe falling for him wasn't the worst thing in the world, you figured before you closed your eyes, letting yourself slip into a deep slumber. 

Somewhere in the middle of the night, you felt someone moving you, and you opened your eyes tiredly. Your eyes met with Zuko's eyes, which seemed to glow golden even in the middle of the night. You were still too drowsy to form a proper sentence, only a slurred 'what' escaping your mouth. "You seemed uncomfortable, so I moved you down a bit." He whispered, making sure he wouldn't wake you up properly. You only let out a hum of approval, eyes heavy as you made grabbing motions toward him, a lazy smile plastered over your face, and he chuckled lowly. Zuko couldn't help but smile at your behavior; you were just too adorable. With a heavy sigh, he laid down beside you, and you didn't waste a second, your head finding its way to his chest, arm wrapped over his abdomen and legs entangled. The warmth radiating from his body made it hard for you to keep your eyes open. "Do you feel better?" or at least something like that left your mouth, along with slurred nonsense, but Zuko understood you. "Yes, I'm doing better." He muttered, his arm wrapped around your back and his arm settling at the curve of your waist, and you finally closed your eyes, only mumbling a 'good' before you slipped right back into your slumber.

PROJECT LOVE DAY 4/4

"Oh my god, this is the cutest thing!" "I didn't know Zuko had a soft side to him." "This is disgustingly adorable." "Stop, you guys are going to wake them up!" "He looks so peaceful, I want to smack him." Zuko slowly opened his eyes, squinting a bit at the sun rays that entered the room before his gaze rested upon the owners of the voices. To his luck, mark the sarcasm, the whole Gaang, including Suki, stood in the room. Zuko slowly moved up, holding himself up with his elbow, before rolling his eyes, letting himself fall back with a loud groan. "You brought everyone, didn't you, Sokka," Zuko stated the obvious, you moved a bit, and only now Zuko remembered that you were in bed with him, guilt immediately making its way to his mind. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to wake you." His voice lowered significantly, as he looked at you, you nuzzling your face in his chest, a sigh escaping your mouth before lifting your head again as you opened your eyes. "What the actual fuck?" You whispered as your voice croaked, the only familiar face was Sokka who stood in front of the bed with a smile, a girl tucked to his side. "Did I miss something?" You muttered, sitting up, slouching as you rubbed your tired eyes, not fully comprehending what was going on. "Not really, I just walked in here and thought this was the cutest shit ever and got all of my and Zuko's friends to see that Zuko is capable of liking someone." You furrowed your eyebrows, face twisted in confusion and tiredness. "Next time you pay for that shit, I'm not doing anything for free." You muttered as Zuko sat up beside you, lucky that you weren't as mad as he thought you might be. "Mind introducing yourselves?" You asked, your eyes slowly adjusting to the brightness as you eyed the group, and everyone started talking at the same time, making you groan. "I need tea before starting with this mess." You muttered to yourself, swinging your legs over Zuko's, and you shivered a bit as your feet hit the ground, your balance slightly off. 

You walked past the group, out of Zuko's room towards your room. Ty Lee had your daily dose of caffeine, black tea. She, by far, made the best black tea you ever tasted, and you couldn't help but scrounge a cup of black tea every morning. You opened the door, seeing Mai laying in Ty Lee's bed, her clothes all over the place while she slept tightly, silent snores escaping her mouth. "Good morning." Ty Lee smiled as she walked over to you, giving you a steaming hot cup of tea, with two scoops of sugar and a splash of milk. "I see you had a good night?" You smirked, taking a sip of your tea. "Yeah, you didn't come home last night, so..." Ty Lee's cheeks were flushed while you smiled at her. "I'm happy for you, Ty Lee. But stay away from my bed, that's a no go." You warned her with a soft smile, and she smiled back, nodding eagerly. You walked back towards the door before turning back to her. "Don't you dare to go near the desk." "Maybe you should've told me that before..." "Ty Lee!"

You went back to Zuko's room, making a mental note to wipe down the desk four times before ever sitting at it again. "You guys are still here?" You asked as you saw the whole group standing in the room, Zuko's cheeks flushed as he hid his face in his hands. "What did you guys do to him?" You asked with a sly smirk, leaning against the bedframe. "We just...asked some questions." Sokka's wiggling eyebrows told you everything you needed to know. "Okay guys, get out of here. I promise Zuko will tell you everything you need to know, but right now I want steamy, hot and sweaty morning sex without any visitors, thank you, bye!" You exclaimed with a grin, shoving the group out of the door, ignoring their disapproving and disgusting sounds as you shut the door in their face, locking it. With a grin, you turned to Zuko, who looked at you, his jaw almost kissing the ground. "You just made this all way worse than it was!" He whisper-yelled as he tugged his hair, but he couldn't keep the smile hidden that tugged at the corners of his mouth. "They're too noisy too early in the morning, and they already think something is going on, so." You shrugged as you walked over to him, sitting down beside him and leaning against the wall before taking a sip of your tea. He leaned against the wall beside you, his head turning to you, and you looked at him, eyebrows raised as he smirked at you, one eyebrow raised. "Was that an invitation for sex back there?" "You wish."

Since you and Zuko didn't have a lecture today, you decide to spend the last day of your 'journey of love' together, trying to find the last little pieces that reminded you of love throughout the city. You knew it was barely any use anymore since you went over the things you perceived as love this morning, finding you had all things for it gathered. You gave it a shot anyway, letting the warm summer sun smother on your skin as you walked the streets of Ba Sing Se side by side. "Don't you have any ideas anymore?" You asked as you looked at Zuko. He shook his head. "The only things that reminded me of some kind of affection came from you, and maybe one or two things from my childhood." He admitted, and you could see the pink color that covered his cheeks as he held his head low, following you through the streets. Suddenly, a memory from your childhood struck you, and you halted in your steps before grinning at Zuko. "What is it?" His look was careful as he eyed you with caution. "I have one last thing."

"Holy spirits, y/n, slow down!" Zuko yelled, stumbling behind you as you walked through a wooded area of the third ring in Ba Sing Se. Your University was in the first ring, one of the elite Universities in the land. Still, you thought the third ring was the most beautiful, so many different people from different backgrounds with different elements they bend. To that, they still had a lot of woods in their area, a lot of nature which you were glad about. 

You came to a halt in front of an abandoned lake, the water shining in a deep blue as you looked at your reflection. When Zuko's image came into view, you couldn't help but laugh, turning to him and taking the twigs out of his hair. "You dragged me through these woods, stop laughing!" He complained with an obvious fake groan as he ran his hands through his black hair, his cheeks once again flushed. Since when did Zuko get so flustered all the time? "So, what are we doing here?" He asked, curiosity getting the best of him as he looked around before following you down to the stone beach that sat by the side of the lake. "I used to do this with an old friend of mine." You grinned as you kneeled, taking a few rocks into your hands before letting them drop to the ground. "We try to find rocks that match the eyes of the other." You grinned up to him, and you knew that it maybe sounded a bit ridiculous, but it was fun, and it was a way of showing affection. It meant the other spent enough time with the other person to be able to tell their eye color without having to look at it. "No cheating!" You warned with a laugh, shielding your eyes before standing up. "Fine, fine!" He chuckled, lifting his hands in defeat before going to the other end of the 'beach'.

You spent at least forty five minutes rummaging through the different rocks when something seemed to blind you for a second, then disappearing. You furrowed your eyebrows as you walked to the water, crouching down as you lifted different rocks. Then you saw it, a few inches to the right. In awe, you picked up the stone, letting it move in between your fingers. It was perfect. It was honey-colored stone, a bit more on the gold-ish side than on the yellow side. The stone was a bit translucent, and the edges were smoothed out by the water. The stone remembered you at the night where Zuko had woken you, his eyes glimmering the exact same color in the faint moonlight. You clutched the rock inside your hand, standing up and walking over to Zuko with a sly grin. "Hey, you said no cheating!" He laughed as he looked up at you for mere seconds, before playfully shielding his eyes. "I already got my stone, idiot." You grinned, putting your hands on his shoulders. "Seriously? Me too!" He laughed, clutching something in his fist, standing upright. "I liked being taller than you for one second, and you ruined it." You frowned, but couldn't help your smile that forced its way onto your face. "Let me see your stone, come on." He grinned, but you shook your head, taking a step back. "No, I found mine first! You're going to show me yours first." You insisted, and Zuko knew he could just not say no to you. It just wasn't possible with the way you smiled at him, eyes bright with childish happiness. "Alright!" He stretched the word as he opened his fist, and you looked at the stone in awe. "It's pretty accurate." You nodded, impressed by his skills. "You probably got a black one or one covered in mud, didn't you?" He gave you a toothy smile. "Your eyes are not black, and they are not muddy!" You said, offended that he would even think such things as your hand lightly slapped against his chest. You opened your fist with a proud grin, and Zuko raised his eyebrows. "What?" You asked, confused as you looked from the stone to his eyes, and you were right, they were practically the same color. "My eyes are not that pretty." "They are Zuko! Have you ever looked into a mirror? You are pretty all over, from head to toe and even your weird little gray hair that's distracting me!" You exclaimed, outraged by his claims. "You think I'm--I have a gray hair?!" He asked, his voice furious. "Pull it out." "But it's cute--" "I said pull it, say goodbye to it or keep it in your drawer as a memory, I don't care! I'm nineteen, I'm not supposed to have gray hair!" You groaned before picking the hair, making him pull a grimace at the sharp pain, letting his hand run over it. "Thank you." "Careful, you might be getting wrinkles, honey." "Fuck you."

You and Zuko spent the rest of the day under a tree by the lake, enjoying the company of each other. Sometimes it was silent, then the air was filled with laughter and memories, then again quietness filling the air. You didn't mind. You could sit in silence with Zuko for a hundred years, and you wouldn't mind it one bit. 

Hesitantly you felt Zuko's hand brush against yours, and your heart started speeding up. You let your finger slither around his ones, lacing them with yours, and squeezing it tightly. "Is this the journey of love, y/n?" Zuko asked, his eyes focused on the sunset in front of you. You glanced at him, his face smoothed out by the deep yellow that covered almost every inch of the forest, and you couldn't help but admire him. Four days ago, you never would've thought you would be friends, and now you were sitting here, holding his hand and watching the sunset and your heart racing at an incredible speed. You sighed deeply, leaning your head against his shoulder as you admired the sunset, the color reminding you of his eyes, and you had to smile. Your thumb ran over the back of his hand, your eyes not once leaving the incredible sight in front of you, your voice barely a whisper. "Yes, Zuko. It is."

[sincerelyreidburke]

quindo quindo quindo quindo quindo (look I know they're the main ship but this is where I have laid my affections)

Alright, Operation: Bite-Sized Kiersey Valentines is a go! Yes, I made up that name on the spot just now. No, I won’t apologize for it, even though it’s terrible. ICYMI, I’m taking submissions to my ask box for Kiersey ships (either romance or friendships) to see in little Valentine’s Day snippets. I’ll take these from now until when I go to bed (around 9 PM EST), and I’m doing them in order of how they came in!

So first up: Rachel. First of all, you loving Quindo brings me joy, since they’re also my favorites. I guess it’s kind of obvious that they’re my favorites, since I’m the creator and I’m the one who decided they’d be the main couple, but whatever. The point is, bless you for this request. I’ll never say no to some good old-fashioned Quindo.

BTW, to anyone who’s reading this, I’ll take duplicates of these— in other words, if I get more than one request for the same ship, I’ll just show you two (or three or however many) different Valentine’s Days.

Anyway. On to the soft.

february 14th | freshman year

Quinn has never had a Valentine, before this year.

For that reason, he thinks, he’s never truly seen the appeal of this holiday. The February fourteenths of years past have been little more to him that opportunities to lament his own singleness, and daydream after the boyfriend who, until earlier this school year, only existed in his imagination. They’ve come and gone like any other winter day.

And then Sebastián came along. And Quinn’s love life has, honestly, felt a bit like a daydream all its own ever since.

Today, Valentine’s Day starts early. To be more specific, it starts the moment he wakes up, since Sebastián spent the night in his room last night. Bunking up together in Quinn’s single has become the norm, especially since the start of spring semester, and Quinn is not complaining even in the slightest. He gets a snuggly bout of kisses in the dark hours of the morning, then sees Sebastián off to morning practice. When he wakes properly, he finds a handwritten card left on his nightstand, and enters a soft state that lasts him the entire day.

Spring musical rehearsal goes a bit late, tonight, thanks to some blocking issues, plus a case of harmonic discord in the “Disappear” ensemble parts that their music director was really bent on ironing out. Quinn truly wouldn’t mind this, on any normal Thursday, but the fact that it’s Valentine’s Day— and for the first time in his life, he’s excited about it— sort of jogs at his impatience on this particular evening. When Dr. C finally, mercifully calls rehearsal, just after 7:30, Quinn packs up and zips out into the Beckett Center lobby like a bat out of hell. Truly, he can’t get back to Wilson Hall fast enough. He’s ready to spend the evening in with his boyfriend. Homework be damned, even.

But when he actually reaches the lobby, he stops clean in his tracks. On a bench by the entrance, campus’ cutest boy is already waiting for him. They haven’t planned this particular meeting, but it wouldn’t be the first time Sebastián has picked him up at the end of rehearsal.

“Hey, baby!” In a lovely Kiersey blue sweatshirt and joggers that fit him nicely, Sebastián is all smiles. “How was rehearsal?”

Quinn cannot help it. He smiles like a lovestruck fool. It’s all he’s been, today, and he’s completely content in that fact. “It was quite long, but just fine, thank you,” he replies, and crosses to the bench to close the distance between them. “And hello, honey,” he adds, as Sebastián rises from his seat. “It’s nice to see you here.

“It’s nice to see you, too,” Sebastián laughs. The moment he stands, Quinn realizes that he’s come bearing gifts. On the bench by where he was sitting sits a bag that looks distinctly as if it holds Bluegrass Café take-out, and in his hands... Sebastián is holding a bouquet of flowers. White tulips, to be specific. They’re wrapped in paper and twine.

He must note that Quinn is looking at them, because he holds them forward, with that handsome smile ever still. “Here,” he says, and presses them into Quinn’s entirely undeserving hands. “These are for you.”

“Oh, my goodness, honey,” Quinn murmurs, and takes a moment to smell them. Clean, fresh, and beautiful, they’re perfect— and he thinks he may melt, right here in this lobby, at the sheer softness this boy brings into his life. He looks up to meet his eyes, and Sebastián looks just a bit bashful, with both hands held behind his back. “These are beautiful,” he tells him, and puts a hand to his heart. “Thank you so much.”

Sebastián laughs again, then takes him by the shoulders, and kisses his forehead gently. “You’re welcome, baby,” he hums. “Happy Valentine’s.”

“And to you as well,” Quinn replies, and then wraps himself up in his arms for a good, long hug. He holds the flowers close to his face ever still, and takes care not to crush them in the embrace.

He is so lucky. Goodness. He still has trouble believing this boy is actually real.

He draws back just a bit, enough to rise on tiptoe and give him a kiss. “Can we still spend tonight in?” he asks, after he’s succeeded in that mission. “I have some things for you back at my room.”

“We can definitely do that,” Sebastián replies, with this little twinkle in his eyes, and Quinn thrills a bit at the thought of getting round two to the lovely little kissing session they had this morning. “And also,” Sebastián adds, “that’s food.” He tips his head back toward the bag on the bench. “Like, dinner. In case you were wondering. I also have some candy?”

Quinn laughs into his chest. “Oh, my goodness, my dear, you are outdoing yourself.”

“Naaaah,” Sebastián says, as if all of this is no big deal, as if it’s obvious. “Only the best for you, baby.”

Quinn swats him, just gently. “Sebastián. You are such a flirt.”

Sebastián winks at him. “I can’t flirt with my valentine?”

Quinn thinks he may be melting again, but then— from behind, an interruption halts their moment in its tracks. “Hey, no jocks in the lobby!”

Quinn whirls around, and shoots daggers at Maggie, who’s just emerged from the stage door, the next cast member to leave rehearsal. With her bag over one shoulder and her script in her free hand, she’s effortlessly glamorous, as always. “Magdalena,” he says, “I will kill you.”

“No, you won’t.” She blows a kiss, then waves her script in the air. “Hey, Sebastián!”

“Hey, Maggie.” Sebastián is infinitely less homicidal than Quinn is. “How was rehearsal?”

“Oh, it was good.” Maggie flashes a smirk, as she goes to slide her script into one of the pockets of her bag. “Quinn was bursting at the seams to get out of there, and now I guess I know why.”

“I beg your pardon,” Quinn cries, in a likely useless effort to defend his own honor. “I didn’t even know he’d be meeting me here.”

Maggie’s smirk widens. “Wow, what a fun coincidence for you.”

Sebastián laughs. Quinn sniffs his flowers again, and hopes that Maggie is watching. It isn’t as if she’d be jealous. She received flowers from five separate boys today, which is what she deserves.

“Have a good night, lovebirds,” she sings, as she nears the exit. Over her shoulder, as a parting gesture, she calls, “Use protection!”

Quinn hides his face in Sebastián’s sweatshirt, so he won’t see just how much that particular comment makes him blush. “I hate her,” he mumbles. “I hate her so much.”

Sebastián is still laughing. He eases him up to his eye level, then gives him a gentle kiss. It’s a bit easier for the embarrassment to wear off, after that.

“What do you say?” Sebastián asks, with one big, steady hand resting at the small of his back. “Back to your room for us?”

A few butterflies surface in Quinn’s stomach. He nods. “That sounds lovely,” he replies, and proceeds to spend the night exactly as he intended to.

Sebastián is truly the greatest valentine a boy could ever ask for.

[theres-a-goldensky]

BL Show Review Series - TharnType

ThIt was requested that I make my next BL review about TharnType. And since series two is ongoing currently, it seemed like the right time to dive into this flawed series that struck gold with its two leads.

Disclaimer that these are my own opinions, and I don’t know where the BL community as a whole stands on these shows. If I disliked a show you loved or visa versa, no disrespect is intended!

MASTERLIST OF BL SHOW REVIEWS

Spoiler Warning and TW: homophobia, child sexual abuse, sexual assault

TharnType Rating: 5/10

These boys can kiss. If you want me to boil down the appeal of this show, that would be it. I said in my intro that this series struck gold with its two leads, and it’s true. Mew Suppasit and Gulf Kanawut look like they want to devour each other for every moment that they’re on screen together. They also go in full force on the bed scenes, of which there are quite a few, starting early in the series and continuing through until the end.

Often in BLs, the acting can seem stilted and the relationship forced. It’s easy to tell that you’re watching two straight men just giving it their best effort for a job. I think that’s why this series gained such a huge following. Well, the chemistry, the skinship, and of course, the fact that both leads are gorgeous. 

It’s probably not for the plot, which is...gibberish and occasionally offensive. The author of the story, MAME, seems to have only one trick up her sleeve for creating drama: rape. I talked about my frustration with this when I reviewed another MAME original in the same universe, Love By Chance. 

The very premise of the story is confusing, because we are supposed to believe that gorgeous, talented, kind Tharn has fallen in love with Type, who spends the first two episodes making Tharn’s life hell after Type finds out he’s gay. But...why though? I know he’s handsome, but Type is homophobic, abusive, and borderline psychotic in those first few episodes. What the hell does Tharn see in him? 

That’s what I mean by the premise being faulty. If I don’t believe in the foundation of the relationship, how can I become invested in it? There’s a very easy way to solve this problem: spend the first episode or two establishing the friendship between Tharn and Type and the way they interact as roommates. Then when it all falls apart after Type learns about Tharn’s orientation, at least Tharn’s crush on him would make sense. 

Instead, there’s a throwaway line in Type’s voiceover in the opening moments of the first episode saying that he and his new roommate Tharn are friends, and that’s it. We don’t even see them interact before Type finds out he’s gay and goes nuts.

Tharn is set up to be the sympathetic character, enduring Type’s bullying, even as he can see that Type has feelings for him that he’s hiding. However, in the second episode, Tharn takes advantage of a drunk and passed out Type. He doesn’t have sex with him, but he does touch his body without consent, and then give Type a hickey on his neck as a prank. And then in the next episode, he follows Type into the shower and proceeds to give him a blowjob. Type tries to push Tharn away, but eventually gives in.

(not pictured: enthusiastic consent)

And again, because Mew and Gulf go for broke during these types of scenes, the sex is really hot. However, that helps mask the fact that Tharn definitely forces himself onto Type. 

We soon learn that Type’s hatred of gay people stems from the fact that he was sexually abused by a man when he was very young. This scene is shown non-explicitly in a flashback. 

It really does seem like MAME believes this sad backstory is enough for us to forgive Type for his truly horrifying behavior. In fact, that’s all this bit of character development does. Once Type tells Tharn and cries on Tharn’s shoulder, he promptly forgets about it for the rest of the series. No more nightmares, no more panic attacks, no more PTSD. That child abuse plotline served its purpose of excusing Type’s homophobia, and then it’s tossed aside. 

People have told me many times that I should stop taking these shows so seriously. But how am I expected not to take it seriously when the show presents such a serious topic? If you only want to be a silly, pleasant BL, then you need to focus on silly, pleasant things. An author doesn’t get to choose these heavy subjects and then wave away criticism because it’s ‘just BL.’ At least, that’s my own opinion.

And all that finally leads us to Tar. Tar is Tharn’s ex-boyfriend in high school. If you are familiar with Love By Chance, then you know what happened to him. In high school, he was gang-raped and then forced to hide the truth and break up with Tharn. 

Again, MAME has a very limited toolkit. This time, the gang-rape of a child is used to illustrate the lengths to which a character will go to keep Tharn all to himself. This fact could have been just as effectively conveyed without resorting to rape. Blackmail of a different variety would have been enough. But since she did insist on going this route, it was up to her to see it through to the conclusion, which she did not do. 

None of the faceless people who committed the crime, nor the mastermind who hired them all and then recorded them to blackmail Tar, see any consequences. There is a filmed confession and attempted murder and yet...nothing. No one calls the police. It’s never even considered. 

And then there’s Type’s big plan to make Tharn believe they broke up so that Type could catch the bad guy. I can accept it because Type isn’t the brightest bulb in the pack, so maybe he really does think this is the only option.

However, his explanation is that Type needed Tharn to look devastated so that he won’t make the bad guy suspicious. However, then Tharn really is devastated, so he goes home, where he refuses to speak to anyone anyway. So why was Type emotionally destroying his boyfriend worth it? For the drama, I guess. Hey, at least he didn’t rape him. 

But my god  can these men kiss.

 And there are these little moments, where Type tries to be tough around Tharn, but he can’t help smiling at his boyfriend being sweet. They make my whole heart grow. 

If you are prepared for the less savory bits of this show, I’d say it’s worth it for the scenes with Tharn and Type being cute or sexy or cute and sexy together. 

And if you’re interested in fanfic, I put together rec lists for multiple BL shows including this one that can be found here and here. 

MASTERLIST OF BL SHOW REVIEWS

(Send me an ask if you have a show you’d like me to review - with the understanding that I will be completely honest - or if there’s anything you think I forgot or got wrong in this review.) 

[fancifulwhump]

i'm LIVING for your jaskier fics omg!! would you be at all interested in writing a prompt where Jaskier is riding Roach because he's not feeling well, but Geralt doesn't realize how bad the fever really is until he falls off? (if that's not interesting or too specific, I can try again! no pressure to write this!)

anonymous asked:  would LOVE to see a sick Jaskier with a cold while they’re traveling, and how Geralt would treat him being feverish and sniffly/how Jaskier would complain lol

AN:   absolutely! so sorry this took a hot second, but here you guys go  ---  hope you enjoy!  ;)

The language of Jaskier is above all a loud one... but just as subtle as any beast’s dialect, filled with intricacies and rhythms that Geralt cannot help taking note of the more he listens. It’s really not the same thing, of course. Non-speaking monsters really can’t use their words; they have no way to express how they feel, except by eating you. Jaskier hasn’t tried to do that. Yet. (Sometimes the way he eyes Geralt in the bath leaves him feeling the day’s not far off.) 

To the contrary — if anything, Jaskier is too verbal. He doesn’t know how to shut up.

Getting used to this took longer than Geralt would have liked. It also demanded considerably more patience than he realized he had. Somehow, staking out a monster’s lair for days in complete silence is bearable... but Sitting through one of Jaskier’s endless rambles is asking too much. Even Witchers can only endure so much.

“Do you ever shut up?” Geralt demanded one day, cutting off the motor-mouthed fool in the middle of another tangent.

Jaskier blinked at him, as though seriously considering the question, then shrugged. “Not a talent of mine, really.”

Miraculously, he did, for a moment. Despite all his instincts screaming to the contrary, Geralt nearly allowed himself to believe his outburst had worked... until Jaskier steppes on a twig, just a bit too loudly, then said, “I was asked the very same thing in bed not too long ago, actually, by this glorious milkmaid — granted, her accent was too thick to make out a word, so she might have been asking me to pass her my ruddy lute, who knows. But she was very enthusiastic —“

And that started him up all over again. Damn the gods.

In spite of it all, Geralt would be lying if he claimed to hate Jaskier’s blathering too much. Sometimes it’s... unique, not being constantly surrounded by silence. He wouldn’t call it nice, not be a long shot, but... it isn’t altogether unpleasant. Jaskier can make for entertaining company in his better moods, and he does keep things interesting. A routine pack of wargs can turn into a colorful job, so long as Jaskier is along to elaborate on it later. Geralt doubts he cuts such a striking figure “swinging his sword to the leaping beast’s belly”, as Jaskier’s latest gig claims, but...

Sometimes, it is nice not to be surrounded by silence. Even if that means putting up with Jaskier’s mouth more than he would like.

Case in point:

“Geralt.” A whine, then a cough, then a passionate sniffle. “Can we slow down? Please? I’ve asked thrice already —“

Four times. Geralt’s been counting. 

Gritting his teeth, he urges Roach a bit faster, conscious of the sound of struggling bard trailing a bit behind him. Jaskier makes no effort to be discreet when he moves, so Geralt can hear everything in perfect detail. The crunch of twigs beneath his heavy feet; the strain of his breaths, a bit more labored than they should be, a bit more congested; the way his chest rattles when he launches into another coughing fit. Even with a nasty cold, Jaskier’s loud.

“Just because I can’t catch it,” says Geralt once the latest fit has passed, “doesn't mean you need to cough on me.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll be sure to aim my dying gasps towards the wilderness next time.” Backtalk is a talent Jaskier can’t help himself honing, even sick as a dog. His brows, foreword with childish petulance, draw even tighter together as he wraps both arms around himself, hunching in. A shiver courses through him; Geralt distinctly hears the rattle of chattering teeth. The second Jaskier catches his eyes lingering, however, he plays up his misery for the perceived audience, pouting and wiping at his face. Geralt rolls his eyes, looking away.

Geralt understands the patterns of many beasts, but Jaskier’s language was one of the easiest to learn. The Law of Jaskier: as long as he’s talking, he’s fine. 

And he hasn’t stopped talking since early this morning. No, not talking — complaining. Gods help him, Jaskier hasn’t stopped complaining.

He still stubbornly follows Geralt out on the road, however; in spite of his red nose and phelmgy cough, Jaskier refuses to be left behind. It wouldn’t be the first time he chose to linger in a particular village which Geralt went on ahead, but Jaskier insisted the last one one didn’t appeal to him — “Everyone looks half-starved there. No wonder, the food tastes like shit. At midnight I half-expect them all to gather into a mob, hunt down the nearest visiting bard, and fry him on a spit. I have just enough meat on my bones, Geralt, but I wouldn’t be tasty —“

That rant devolved into a coughing fit that left Jaskier doubled over on the side of the road for five minutes, gasping and heaving. Geralt actually had to stop and wait for him. By the time Jaskier recovered, raising himself shakily up from his knees on the dirt road, he looked a mess. His face was bright red, tears lingering at the corners of his eyes; his chest still heaved. That was the moment any sensible person would have turned back… but Jaskier simply steeled himself and carried on.

Fool of a bard, Geralt thinks now, listening to Jaskier’s heavy footsteps behind them. He’s lagging, slowing them both down. His scent has picked up something unfamiliar, an edge of sour sweetness that can only be a fever. At least he’s walking on his own… but he’s not walking fast, is the thing, and they have to walk fast if they want to reach the next town before nightfall. As it is, the prospect looks doubtful; Jaskier has slowed them enough already.

“As soon as we find a bed, I’m collapsing in it —“ Jaskier pauses to sniff again, and clear a hoarse throat. “Then not getting out for a year. A year, Geralt. You’ll have to — drag me by my feet or something.”

“Something,” Geralt agrees, his mind flashing to images of swords and steel. Oh, he’d get the damned bard out of bed.

The trail gets rougher as they make their way further into the mountains. Even Geralt stumbles in places, and he’s built for this sort of travel. He’s wearing the boots for it.  Jaskier is distinctly neither of these things. As Geralt’s must focus more of his attention on their way forward, he almost misses what’s going on behind him — the harshness of his companion’s breaths growing more and more labored, the way Jaskier’s coughs pick up force and frequency, the times he must stop — physically stop — to sneeze or hack his lungs out. Geralt tries to ignore it. He really does. But the fact that he almost manages, for about fifteen minutes, is what alerts him to a much more alarming fact.

Jaskier has stopped complaining.

As soon as Geralt realizes this, he jerks to a halt on the trail. Roach follows his lead… but Jaskier, his head down, doesn’t notice. Instead, he walks straight into Roach’s backside, nearly toppling off his feet. 

“Agh — damn it, Geralt.” Even his indignation sounds listless. “Give a man warning next time, will you?”

“How,” asks Geralt, through gritted teeth, “do you feel?”

Jaskier blinks, appearing to weigh the likelihood that his companion is genuinely concerned or just annoyed. Whatever he decides, he isn’t wrong. Instead of offering an answer, he makes an inarticulate ‘hmm-mmm’, shrugging his shoulders. Geralt’s hard gaze bores into him. Jaskier shrinks under it. After a moment, the pressure grows too much; he breaks. “My head is pounding, to be honest. Feels… dizzy. I don’t know. It’s cold out here.”

“You have a fever,” Geralt observes. 

Jaskier raises his eyebrows, then laughs softly, like he’s not surprised. “Right, yep, that makes sense. Figures you know me better than I do…”

He breaks off into another fit of coughing, which leaves his entire body quaking. Geralt has to actually grab his shoulder to steady him, just in case Jaskier should tumble over. As soon as he’s regained some kind of composure, though, Jaskier pulls away.

“I’ll be fine.” This time, there isn’t a trace of whine in his voice; he isn’t scraping the barrel for pity, but being deadly serious. “Not too long to the next village anyways, is it? I can make it.”

Geralt eyes him for a long moment, weighing the likelihood of getting there in a reasonable amount of time with Jaskier lagging behind. It’s not good. They’ve been making poor time as it is, because he’s had to slow his pace for the damned bard, but Geralt would prefer not to camp along the road overnight. (Because he doesn’t feel like sleeping on hard ground; not because Jaskier in his current state needs a warm bath and bed. Absolutely not.)

He sighs through his teeth. “Get on the horse.”

“What?”

Either Jaskier’s fever is high enough that he can no longer comprehend the common tongue, or he really is an idiot. “The horse,” Geralt emphasizes, patting Roach’s hindquarters in preemptive apology. “If you ride her, we may make it to the nearest village before nightfall.”

This is the one and only time Geralt has ever offered his precious horse; Jaskier knows this, as well as he knows this chance will never come around again. Maybe he’s just an opportunist. Maybe the promise of a roof over his head is that tempting. Either way, Jaskier doesn’t weigh his options for long before doing the sensible thing and getting on the damn horse.

Roach whinnies, making her displeasure at the entire situation clear. Jaskier isn’t helping matters, a dead weight on her back. The horse stamps her hooves, shuffling in dismay, but a look from Geralt chastises her. For the moment, getting the bard out of the woods will have to be more important than her dignity.

No, Geralt doesn’t like it either. One look at Jaskier’s face, though — the hollow-eyed pallor, and the distance, as though he’s drifted out to sea already — reminds him why it is necessary.

This time around, they are able to set a much faster pace. Roach keeps up, just as Geralt knew she would, even carrying the burden that is Jaskier. The sick man doesn’t help his case; rather than ride, Jaskier has both arms braces against Roach’s neck, clearly focused on just keeping his balance. There’s a precarious list to his posture which Geralt keeps an eye on, but he doesn’t actually fall; every time it seems like he might, he rights himself, and a new dawn of clarity rises over his face. It lasts only a moment, of course, before fading away… but it’s something.

It isn’t long before the woods begin to thin out. Geralt tracks their location by the trees, and by the hues of purple and gold beginning to blend together on the horizon. They haven’t far to go, and enough time to do it. Unless they run into any roaming monsters on the way…

He takes his eyes off Jaskier, and there’s the mistake. He forgets. When Jaskier was complaining, at least he was present; by airing his grievances he ensured that he could not be ignored. This quiet Jaskier is a foreign one, and Geralt isn’t used to him. So, he makes a mistake. He looks away, and doesn’t look back… until a gruesome thud echoes from behind him.

Geralt stops dead in his tracks. Roach lets out a distressed whinny. Jaskier says nothing at all.

“Fuck!” Geralt hisses, rushing back to the bard’s crumpled body. Face-down in the dirt, Jaskier makes no attempt to pull himself up. When Geralt hauls him upright with both hands on his shoulders, Jaskier groans, head lolling against his own chest. 

Mud stains his cheeks, and a bruise is sure to form where he hit the ground hard. Even when Geralt seizes his face, though — and damn it, he’s on fire, worse than Geralt thought — Jaskier proves incapable of focusing. An incoherent murmur passes through parted lips. It does exactly nothing to alleviate Geralt’s minor panic.

“Jaskier! Wake up!” Is he even asleep? Geralt can’t tell. “Say something!”

He means it, and the realization comes as an icy shock — never did he imagine he’d ever miss the bard’s incessant prattling. Yet in the sudden absence of Jaskier’s voice, silence rings louder than ever, and it’s smothering Geralt to death. He should have seen this, should have known, should have realized, damn it —

“Jaskier,” he hisses, hauling his companion to his feet. The full weight of Jaskier’s limp body melts against his own. When Jaskier’s burning forehead falls against Geralt’s shoulder, he shrugs, trying to rouse him… but nothing does the job. Even when Geralt, grumbling furiously, is forced to haul Jaskier back up onto Roach and leap up after him, the fever permits Jaskier to do little more than melt against him. His head lolls, eyes half-open and staring into nothing. Worse than it all, he is completely silent.

For once in his life, Geralt misses the damned bard’s complaining.

[lov3nerdstuff]

How long is forever?

*Tom Hiddleston x reader*

Parts: Oneshot

Words: 4.2k

Genre: flufffff

Imagine: You catch Tom's interest at Comic Con

Request: by @my-mind-was-lostintranslation I rly hope this is something you will enjoy 💗 I just never end up writing requests the obvious way 😂

______________________________

You had been reluctant about agreeing to come along. Reluctant about the entire idea of going to Comic Con, about buying tickets for way too much money, about your somewhat-friends wanting to randomly crash with some people they would surely meet instead of getting an overpriced hotel, about your one friend making you wear this skimpy green Loki dress because she thought it would go along nicely with your tattoos and skin color. And still, some demon had planted the seed of hope in your brain and thus you found yourself coming along, hoping to meet the only person at this convention you actually found any interest in. Tom Hiddleston.

You were dressed as one of his characters after all, even if not entirely by choice. Sure, you had seen his movies and shows and enjoyed his acting quite the deal, but what truly fascinated you about him was his own person. His character and opinions, smart thoughts and deep questions. He just seemed like a person you would love to get to know, for surely he was more interesting than any of your other acquaintances (maybe even than the friends you were here with… it was more of a community of purpose than a real friendship after all). And listening to Tom's panel was probably the closest you would get to spending time with a kindred mind.

Unfortunately your friends were more the anime and manga kind of people, definitely more than you were at least, and thus you found yourself going to Tom's panel alone. You weren't one of those girls who would sell their soul to sit in the front, or to ask questions… no, you were content sitting in the middle of the room and just letting life happen around you.

As an artist yourself, you had originally been fairly interested in the artwork you would get to see here, but all too soon you had been severely disappointed by the few artists who had even bothered to come to a rather small con like this at all. That someone like Tom was present for the day bordered on a miracle, really, considering the size of the convention. Maybe he had been in the region for shooting whatever film he was currently working on?

As you sat in the middle of the audience room, waiting for the panel to start, you found yourself mesmerized by the lightning situation on stage. It hit the objects in such a way that they just begged you to be turned into art… and you didn't have anything else to do anyway. So, thinking that you maybe just should've gone to the museum instead of this convention, you dug a black pen out of your bag, along with a small blank paper notebook and started sketching with a content sigh.

Once the panel started, having someone else talk first before Tom would come on, you went on to also sketch the portrait of the panel's host and the first guest, for listening was just easier while drawing. And when finally the time had come, and Tom was greeted on stage with thundering applause, you found yourself smiling to yourself as you flipped the page of your notebook to start on a portrait finally worth drawing.

_______________

Tom was tired. Very tired indeed, as he had been urged to come to the convention impossibly early despite having spent most of the night traveling and doing interviews. And now he was to go out onto the stage and smile and chat with people while pretending not to fall asleep any minute. It had been easy enough to smile and say hi and bye in a sinus curve of repetition while signing pretty much whatever people had brought, but now he actually was supposed to talk some sense, and avoid spoilers, and preferably also do some subtle and appealing PR for his newest movie. However all he really wanted to do was to have a nice cup of tea and get some sleep. But this was work, and this wasn't even half as bad as his tired brain made it out to be. He liked talking to people, to fans and interviewers and host, after all and this surely would be fun.

So he really only had to fake a smile for the first three seconds as he walked onto stage, for he had to smile for real from then on. It was a smaller convention, but the room was packed nonetheless. He enjoyed the fact that he could actually see the audience for once, and not only a black pit of murmurs and occasional flashing lights. It made the whole thing way more pleasant, and as he shook hands with everyone and sat down, he actually felt comfortable and ready to have a nice chat.

He answered some questions about the movie he was working on, had a couple laughs with the host, and then some time to let his eyes wander through the audience while the other guest was being interviewed. It wasn't a habit, really, but he liked to count the number of character he recognized from people's costumes. It was a good way to check if his pop culture knowledge was severely lacking or only minorly lacking currently.

His eyes flew over the audience members quickly but intently, and he found himself smiling in excitement a couple times whenever he spotted someone dressed as Loki. But otherwise, the crowd wasn't unusual in any way, to his eyes… Until they fell upon a young woman in a green sleeveless dress, scribbling something into a journal. Her eyes moved from the stage to the book, back and forth, again and again, as her hand moved quicker than Tom could begin to follow. She had drawings, tattoos, on her shoulders and arms, but Tom couldn't really tell what they depicted nor if they were real or part of the costume. But he could tell that, as his eyes moved on over the audience, they were drawn back to her within seconds, again and again. He tried ignoring her, scanning the rest of the audience part by part, but it was of no use… his eyes would always revert back to the girl.

She was still drawing, or writing maybe… Tom couldn't tell. But the tiredness in his brain was washed away more and more the longer he watched her, inspecting both her actions and her appearance.

The dress probably was supposed to be a costume of some kind, but not a particularly good or detailed one… more of a jersey dress than a costume created with effort. Nothing that would cause his mind to cling onto her so much.

Suddenly every thought was stilled in the depth of his mind, as her eyes moved back to the stage and found his own. It had been merely accidental on both ends, he could tell by her surprised look, but now that their eyes had locked, Tom found himself unable to tear his gaze away. So did she, and they remained entirely focused on each other in complete stillness.

"Tom? You still with us, buddy?" The host's amused voice came crashing into Tom's muted mind and he almost jumped a little as his eyes left hers to look at his fellows on the stage. Gosh, he had completely forgotten that he was still very much on public display… no sleep wasn't too kind on his brain.

"I'm so sorry." Tom replied with an apologetic, breathless laugh. "What did you say again?"

For the next fifteen minutes, Tom answered the fans' questions. Ever so often, his eyes would flick back to the girl in the green dress for a mere second before coming back to the person he was actually speaking to. It wasn't very polite, he knew that, but he just couldn't stop himself, couldn't stop his mind from returning to her whenever chance allowed him. Unfortunately he didn't meet her eyes again, and the intriguing, time stopping experience from before remained a singularity.

Why couldn't she be asking him a question? Tom would've loved to speak to her, for whatever reason. Maybe just to hear her voice. Maybe to find out why he couldn't stop looking at her, wondering about her…

The questions that were asked, as usual, ranged from the boring things people could just have googled to the slightly more interesting things such as his favorite book quotes. But yet again, there was nothing all too interesting, nothing Tom really had to focus on too much. It was rare that people asked him things he actually needed to think about, but maybe that was due to the brief nature of the convention. Question, answer, next. In under a minute. Yes, maybe it was Tom himself who was too demanding in the things that would interest him. Still, he was grateful for everyone who bothered to come to his panel and to ask him a question, no matter how boring the question itself was. Just seeing the joy in people's faces when he answered them would be enough on most days to make him happy indeed.

But today, it wasn't enough. He found that while it did fill him with joy to see people being happy about his answers, he couldn't quite be content as long as he still hadn't spoken to the girl. At least hear her ask a question… since real conversation was so rare at con.

"I'm afraid we're running out of time." The host declared sadly, drawing Tom out of his thoughts. "That was the last question."

A loud round of disappointed 'ooh's from the audience made Tom smile ever so slightly, until his eyes met the girl's once more, causing his features to relax into neutral curiosity.

"Any last words, Tom?" The host asked dramatically, laughing at his own exaggeration.

"Actually…" Tom started, thinking that at least this once he would actually make use of him being a celebrity and thus having the ability to do a great deal of things that weren't planned and that would thereby cause chaos for other people. But he couldn't help it. "Actually, I would like to ask a question too."

"A question? To… to someone in the audience?" The host rose his eyebrows and Tom nodded, upon which the former continued. "Uhm, well, go ahead then. A question from Tom Hiddleston, everybody!"

People clapped and cheered for a moment and Tom turned in his chair to face the audience, to face the girl he was so keen on getting to know. Her eyes were back on the journal, jumping back back forth between the item in her lap and Tom on the stage.

"My question…" Tom started, heart picking up speed rapidly. What was he doing here…? Causing Luke problems, most likely. "My question is for the girl in the green dress who has been scribbling in her notebook for the entire duration of this panel. Twelfth row from the back, right in the middle."

The spotlight that had previously been fixed on the audience microphone moved over the crowd, until it halted right on the mysterious girl Tom meant to talk to. She looked up from her notebook immediately, looking around herself in mild panic first and then staring right back at Tom like a deer in the headlights.

Tom's stomach dropped, twisting in nervousness… he hadn't meant to make her uncomfortable, hadn't thought about putting her on display like that. Gosh, he really should've put more thought into this, he usually put way too much thought into everything… but now he had to follow through with it either way. What did he want to ask again…? Her eyes fixed on his had his heart skipping multiple beats and his mind fall silent for a moment… until he remembered that everyone was staring at him expectantly. He still hadn't come up with a question.

"Alright, my question for you is…" He paused very briefly, wondering how he could find out who she was with only one single question. But then again… maybe he only had to find out if getting to know her would be worth the trouble. "How long is forever?"

_______________

Murmuring erupted in the audience room around you, and your heart beat so fast that it almost jumped out of your ribcage. Was this really happening? Everyone was looking at you… some people were even filming the whole thing. And everyone was waiting for your answer. Great… How long was forever indeed? Right now, every moment that passed with Tom looking at you felt like an own eternity. That's when it clicked in your mind.

"Sometimes, just one second." You replied loud enough to be heard all the way to the front, actually pushing yourself to get over your nervousness. Easier said than done… you felt like fainting. Luckily you were sitting already, otherwise your knees just might have given in. And when Tom started smiling at you widely a second later, your insides turned into a mushy goo of nerves and excitement and tingles.

"Thank you." He said with the most adorable expression, and you bit your bottom lip to keep from grinning. Surely, you had noticed how he'd looked at you a couple times throughout the panel, but you had thought you'd imagined it. That he had looked at everyone that way.

But when your eyes had met, it had sent a bolt of liquid lightning through your veins, flooding your body with a new kind of excitement. Then he had gone on to say he meant to ask one single question to someone in the audience, and you had been sure it wouldn't be to you. Obviously you'd been wrong about that.

Almost in a haze, you observed how the host thanked Tom and the other guest for coming, before ushering both out of sight. The lights on stage went out, the ones in the audience room brightened, and people around you started to leave as if your heart hadn't just almost exploded.

Well, that certainly had been something. Didn't happen to you every day that people wanted to quote Alice in Wonderland with you, and even less that someone actually talked to you willingly, and still even less that this someone was a person you actually wanted to talk to as well. And yet even less that the person happened to be Tom Hiddleston. You closed your eyes for a moment to calm down.

Now that the adrenaline was slowly letting you breathe normally again, you flipped your notebook shut and stuffed it into your bag together with the pen, wondering why exactly he had asked YOU, out of all people, THIS question, out of all the things he could've asked. Your friends would never believe this.

Once you felt like you could actually walk again, you rose to your feet and made your way to the exit, only to be stopped by a hand on your shoulder.

With a frown you turned around, believing you might have lost something maybe, only to find a man in a suit standing in front of you. Your frown deepened.

"Excuse me, but you're the girl Tom asked that odd question, right?" He asked politely, withdrawing his hand from your shoulder the second you turned around.

"It wasn't an odd question, it was Alice's question to the white rabbit. But yeah, that was me." You replied before you could stop yourself from being a smartass, looking at the man curiously. He wore one of those badges that gave him access to the VIP and backstage areas… obviously he belonged to the staff. The suit alone was a poor indicator of that, after all… someone in a suit at Comic Con could also just be a man in black, or whatever incarnation of the doctor or anything really. His suit looked too expensive to be a costume though.

"Would you mind coming to the VIP area with me? Tom, that nut, begged me to do whatever it takes to get you over there and I really don't want to have him running around out here himself. Who knows what mischief he may cause..." The man sighed with a small smile and you felt your cheeks heating up. Tom wanted to talk to you. For real. What?!

"Uhm… Of course, I mean… sure?" You replied insecurely, and the man in the suit sighed in relief before walking ahead and motioning for you to follow. Three minutes later you had passed on into a different hall and ventured past a couple security guards, finally coming to an area that was completely closed off to the public. You felt only minorly nervous now, and mostly curious. Without a thousand people staring at you, it was way easier to think.

The man in the suit led you towards a group of people standing in a loose circle, talking and laughing. You actually recognized most of them from movies or TV shows as you quickly went over their faces, looking around until your eyes fell upon Tom. As he saw you approaching, his eyes lit up and he smiled in your direction.

"You owe me." The man in the suit said to Tom as you came to stand in front of him at last. "Don't do anything stupid."

"I would never!" Tom replied to him with a grin, upon which he rolled his eyes.

"I'm keeping an eye on you, Hiddleston." The man grinned back as he turned to leave again.

"That's what I'm paying you for!" Tom called after him, laughing and shaking his head to himself before finally looking at you with a small smile. "Hi."

"Hey." You replied, unable to keep from smiling yourself. "Did I answer correctly?"

"Oh, you did for sure. Don't worry."

"Good." You chuckled, looking to your feet for a second and then back at the man in front of you. Gosh, he really was too handsome for his own good.

"Am I making you nervous?" He asked reluctantly, giving you an almost concerned look.

"I'm not starstruck, if that's what you mean." You replied easily, actually not feeling nervous at all for once. "I'm just wondering why I'm here."

"Because I'm curious about you." Tom smiled, and you could swear that he was blushing a little bit. It looked rather adorable and your heart skipped a beat. "What's your name?"

"I'm Y/n." You replied lightly, taking in all the small details about him that you hadn't been able to see from the distance before.

"Y/n… that's a lovely name. I'm Tom."

"Yeah, I know." You laughed, biting your lip to keep from grinning too widely. Whether he was trying to make you relaxing by humor or if he really was just a dork, you found yourself to be comfortable with him.

"Of course you do…" He laughed too, looking down to the ground and shaking his head to himself. Oh, he was definitely blushing now, and it was freaking adorable.

"You observed me during the panel, didn't you?" You asked calmly, trying to ease his embarrassment a bit by changing the topic.

"I did indeed." He gave you an apologetic smile as he motioned for you to take a seat on the couch, before sitting down across from you. "I just couldn't help it."

"And here I was, thinking I'm making things up." You chuckled.

"What were you scribbling in that notebook the entire time? If you don't mind me asking..." He inquired curiously, eyes searching and finding yours. Somehow they held the power to stop time for you and leave you feeling completely mesmerized. Tom seemed to experience a similar thing, for he only kept looking at you while you looked back at him for a second bearing your own forever. Until someone dropped something on the concrete floor very loudly, making both of you jump.

"I… I was just sketching some random objects, some people…" You finally replied as you found your words again. "Nothing special."

"So you're an artist? Here at the convention?"

"Yes, and no. I am an artist, but not in a million years famous enough to be invited to con." You laughed, taking in the sincere interest in Tom's expression. It'd been such a long time since anybody had looked at you like that...

"May I take a look at today's work?" He asked with so much hope that there was no way you could've said no to him. Whatever it was he would ask of you.

So you handed him your journal, and he flipped the pages open at your bookmark. That would be the portrait you sketched of him.

"Wow, this is amazing…" He remarked, frowning as he focused entirely on the drawing for a moment. "You did this in, what, fifteen minutes?"

"Yup." You shrugged, feeling your cheeks heat up yet again. "I mean, you're too tempting not to draw."

Tom's eyes shot up from the page to meet yours as he pulled up one eyebrow and grinned at you, while you only now registered what you had said, closing your eyes and biting your lip in embarrassment.

"I just meant that with you as a sitter, every portrait would look good." You tried to make it sound right, only to find Tom still grinning at you in amusement.

"Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter. The sitter is merely the accident, the occasion. It is not he who is revealed by the painter; it is rather the painter who, on the coloured canvas, reveals himself." Tom spoke softly, and your skin tingled pleasantly at the warm depth of his voice.

"Oscar Wilde, nice." You smirked at him, causing his eyes to light up yet again.

"You enjoy literature?"

"Probably just as much as art."

"Literature is art though, wouldn't you say?"

"It is indeed." You replied softly, smiling. "Maybe that's why I enjoy it so much."

For the next hour, or maybe rather hours –who could tell how much time passed when so lost in each other's captivating presence?– you and Tom stayed sitting on that couch, ignoring everything and everyone outside of your conversation. Talking to him was so much more than you had ever imagined, so utterly intriguing and captivating… You had completely fallen for him before you knew.

"Y/n…" Tom started, velvety voice wrapping around your senses like liquid sin. "I…"

He was interrupted by an assistant stepping up to the couch hastily, letting Tom know that he needed to get to his signing table ASAP, being twenty minutes late already. Your heart fell upon those words, more than you would've assumed, as it meant that you would have to leave too. That the little time you had with Tom had come to an end. But you wouldn't be so foolish as to assume that any of this would lead to anything more than a nice memory.

With a sad smile you couldn't really brighten up, you rose to your feet, urging Tom to do the same.

"It was truly lovely meeting you, Tom. A dream." You said gently as you stood right in front of him, the assistant having left to be of use elsewhere.

"It is your dream. You decide where it goes from here." He replied in the same soft quiet, looking down at you in both affection and reluctance. "I'm afraid I find it rather impossible to part from you. What are we to do about that?"

"You will go your way and I will go mine… And by tonight you won't remember my name, my face or my words anyway. I'm one in a million, a passing star in an entire universe of equals." You smiled at him with a heavy heart, meaning your words to be encouraging rather than saddening. "While you, Tom, you contain multitudes all by yourself."

"I'm your equal, Y/n…" He protested lightly, frowning with an almost shy smile. "I want to be."

"You do?" Your eyes widened as gentle a shiver ran down your spine.

"Of course." His smile widened for a moment, and his eyes flicked down to the small gap between you very briefly before he looked back to your eyes and let his fingers brush gently against yours. The minimal touch left your skin ablaze in an instant, scorching liquid heat running wildly through your veins. Your breath hitched, and his smile widened even more. "I have to go to my signing now, or Luke will have my head. But I'm refusing to let you go, and I would be the luckiest man in all those multitudes if you would wait for me here. I'm gonna be all yours once I return."

With your stomach in pleasant coils, and your heart in his hands already, you didn't even need to think before nodding with the happiest smile. "I will be here. How long does the signing take?"

"Sometimes, just a second, my dear." He grinned at you, giving your hand a light squeeze before jogging off to where the man in the suit was waiting for him with a roll of his eyes and a smirk. And as you watched Tom leaving, winking at you once more before he was out of sight, you already couldn't wait for his return.

______________________________

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[fortheloveoffanfic]

Put Me In a Movie

Keanu Reeves x Reader(A/n- I’ve been meaning to post this since last week, but I’m lazy.)

Summary Prologue  1   2   3  4  5  6 7  8  9  10 11 12

Warnings- Angst

Chapter 13- Hold Me Without Hurting Me

The pack had started warming in his hands, and eventually, Keanu couldn't bring himself to do much more than toss it back to the table and listlessly drag himself back to his trailer, which neighbored Y/n’s. Standing outside, between both metal contraptions; his on the right and hers on the left, he contemplated knocking on Y/n’s instead. He didn’t like the way their earlier interaction had ended; with her in tears, storming out and essentially ending their relationship. 

It was his fault, he’d pushed her.

Keanu had almost made the trek up the steps, almost knocked on the door, almost begged her to take him back. He’d almost done a lot of things, like let himself fall. But alas, for everything he’d almost done, there were a dozen more that he'd done wrong and in the end, he’d just slunk back into the cold cocoon of his own trailer, flopping onto the sofa, groaning as he threw his head back. It hurt though the insistent throbbing, the slight pull of his stitches and heaviness over his left eye felt like nothing compared the new hollowness in his chest.

Truthfully, Keanu hadn't meant for things to go the way they had, it was never his intention to have her leave for good. But it was so foreign to him; it had been a while since he'd been with a woman who'd looked at him the way Y/n had, who's touch alone was enough to remedy physical pain. Who could make his lips tremble but slow his anxious heart at the same time. She was different in other ways too; usually, the girls he dated were willing to go with whatever he wanted, anything just to keep him interested. Sometimes, though more times than he preferred to admit, Keanu would find himself realizing that a woman only adored him for what he was, rather than who he was. But Y/n…….Y/n actually cared. Y/n loved him.

Even if he’d given her a million reasons not to.

Love.

The word made an unwarranted panic rise up in Keanu’s chest. He wasn’t sure if he felt that way, when you feel it, you should know right? But Keanu didn’t know. All he knew was that he wanted her back, unashamedly and quite selfishly, even if he wasn’t sure what his feelings were. Maybe they could patch things up with an emotional band aid, just enough so he could have her, though without letting himself get too submerged. Keanu wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment anyway. He wasn’t the type.

At least, that was what he’d told himself. Convinced himself.

But he was lying to himself. Keanu was always lying to himself

Maybe he really should make things right, heedlessly hold on until he could sort himself out, until he could find a way to to shift things, so if they ever did walk away, he could leave unscathed. Control. That was what he wanted, control. Control over their feelings, over the way everyone saw them, over the way he saw himself. 

Control, he would find it.

Production had been halted for the rest of the evening, and by extension, the two days following Keanu’s accident, hopefully giving him enough time to grasp his bearings. It was without warning, though Y/n understood the circumstances and was immensely grateful for the down time, hoping that she too could manage to pull herself together before they’d face each other again.

Nearly a day had passed, going on twenty four whole hours since she’d left Keanu sitting on a plastic chair in an air conditioned trailer that smelt like Hydrogen-Peroxide and disinfectant, tossing a beady ice pack to his chest, earning herself nothing more than a surprised ‘omph’ in the process. Since then, she’d fluttered through a range of emotions; anger at his reluctance, gnawing sorrow because he couldn’t return her love and finally, frustration when Keanu hadn’t made the slightest effort to swing by her room and pretend to be sorry. 

All she wanted was to get him back, so she could put aside the doubt, at least for a while. Y/n didn’t like the feeling that came with his absence, and even if being with him felt like she was sinking slowly, drowning in a whirlpool resulting from her own devices, being without Keanu felt like she was being pulled under ice cold water, suddenly and without the strength to swim herself to recovery. 

By then her bed had become a haven, one that still held his scent, even if the sheets had been changed. Perhaps it was just her imagination. Y/n had spent far too much time there since she’d returned to the hotel, only ever leaving for lengthy showers or to get food. Not much else seemed appealing anyway and the rest of the hotel would just remind her of everything that she’d poured into Keanu. She ruined things with a good man for him, almost dismantled her relationship with her father for him, sacrificed half her sanity, just for him. And still, it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t enough.

Maybe nothing would be enough for him.

Yet, Y/n still clutched hope close to her chest; Keanu would knock on her door, tell her he was sorry and ask her to take him back. She’d do it in a heartbeat too, even if she was almost sure that he’d be lying. Believing his lies; it had already become her norm anyway. There was a toxicity that came with loving him, and Y/n could readily recognize it; you shouldn't have to swallow up lies when  affections ran as deep as hers, you shouldn’t cry yourself to sleep or have to convince yourself that they care either. But she’d done it, and in the name of hope, she’d keep doing it, until she couldn’t any longer. 

A fretful huff left her chapped lips and shoving the sheets away, Y/n aimlessly hoped that running her hands through her tangled hair would do something to dismiss the thoughts of Keanu; as much as she loved him, she really did want to stop thinking of him. It wasn’t like she could do much about their break up anyway, she’d broken up with him and he hadn’t really done much to stop it. 

As she sat up, Y/n surveyed the room, dimmed by the incoming evening, merely the silhouettes of furniture remaining visible in the hazy room. The air conditioner ran on high, offering a chill to combat the thick, comfortable layers she’d sought refuge in and the remote to the television mounted to the wall remained her only companion. Her phone was somewhere around too, probably hidden away beneath the room service menu on the nightstand, Y/n could hear it buzzing every once in a while, but couldn't summon up the will to pick it up. She’d get back to whoever it was, at some point. 

For a solid minute, she just sat there, immersed in the sea of fabric, wondering if she’d be spending the night the same way she’d wasted the day; sulking in between wine induced naps. Though, three brisk knocks on the front door interrupted her muddy thoughts, causing Y/n to groan as she tumbled out of the bed. On her way to the door, she finished a glass of red that had been sitting beneath her unlit lamp and once again ran her fingers through her hair, that time to vanquish any traces of telling bed head. 

With a strained sigh, Y/n took the knob in her hand, pulling the door open, ready to tell whoever it was that she was busy. But at the sight of the offender, the words didn’t come, stifled by the hope pluming in her chest, “You’re…... “ With glassy eyes and quivering lips, Y/n tried to seem as cool as possible, though she knew the over sized sweatshirt and loose booty shorts, along with the redness in her eyes and flush in her cheeks would be a dead give away.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed sadly when Keanu found that Y/n probably wasn’t going to say much more. His lips were set in a deep frown and the bandage protecting his sutures had been recently changed and switched out for a smaller one. Keanu's hair looked almost as frazzled as Y/n's and she wondered if he'd been nervous about going to see her. "I never meant to hurt you," he carried on softly, exhaling as he shoved his fists into the pockets of worn jeans, "I just-"

Despite her mind's protest, a nagging thought reminding Y/n that she was making it too easy, she held the door open a bit wider, the fondness in her heart growing at just the thought of Keanu wanting her back, "Why don't you come in?"

He seemed stunned at first, eyes widening with confusion and jaw going slack, but eventually gave in and Keanu knew that it would be a lie if he wasn't secretly hoping that things could be that easy, "Okay," he nodded wearily, "Thanks." 

Now standing in the living room, the orange glow from the setting sun washing the room through the glass balcony doors, casting a burnt hue on the furniture and floors, Y/n thought that the atmosphere felt choked and a little clumsy. She couldn’t tell if Keanu was being genuine or not, but she did know that she was going to believe him, just so things could go back to being okay for a while. He stood about a foot away, shoulders hung and head down cast, directed to their feet, still though, she had to look up at him, not meeting his gaze, but desperately searching for some truth in his expression. “What I said yesterday,” Keanu swallowed thickly, shaking his head, “I didn’t mean it when I said that you were smothering me, I just wasn’t expecting you to care that much.”

“I’ve always cared that much,” Y/n turned her face away, not wanting Keanu to see her feelings, he’d already hurt them so much. Her fingers toyed with the cuffs of her grey sweatshirt as she awaited more, eventually trying to propel it with; “Is that what you came here to say?”

“Yeah,” he sighed heavily, removing a hand from his pocket to run it through his tousled hair, scrubbing his nails through his salt and pepper beard before letting it fall haplessly to his side again, “And to ask you for a second chance. I want us to work on this,” finally, he looked at her, and Y/n let their gazes meet. She searched his eyes, only finding turmoil and swirling confusion there. It was nothing like what she offered him; love, admiration and adoration. 

Maybe she could find it there though, one day.

“I……” Don’t do it, he doesn’t care as much as you do. Don’t do it, he doesn’t care at all. Nothing’s gonna change, don’t do it! But Y/n didn’t listen, logic was a dry pill that was too hard to swallow she wasn’t willing to believe that Keanu would hurt her again, even though she knew it was the truth. They had so much to work out before they could even think about being together, they were hurt people, who in the end, would inevitably hurt people, but Y/n didn’t care. She never did. She wanted what they had when he made her laugh, when he touched her and sparked life in shadowy depths of her soul. 

She was selfish enough to want him, despite their brokenness.

“I want that too,” Y/n eventually nodded, dragging herself towards Keanu, thoughtlessly letting herself sink into his sullen embrace. His arms, circling her waist, felt warm, though not in the way she’d expected to. Instead, it was like being enveloped in hot, empty air. It was just a gesture, nothing more than the act. That was in actuality, but in her head, she could feel what he poured into it, convinced herself that this was what he wanted, that things were going to work this time. 

But unless they learned to grow up,  stitch themselves back together,  they wouldn’t. 

But she could hope. Hope that one day, there would be more than emptiness. Hope that at some point he’d change his mind and fall in love with her.

Y/n could always hope

******

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[undignifiend]

So I made a Trollhunters fan character instead of sleeping. Meet Dezoka.

A (secretly) unregistered changeling trying to pass as a Gumm-Gumm warrior after getting stuck in the Darklands during the Battle of Killahead. Genuinely wants to be a Gumm-Gumm, but has to be deceptive (like an ‘Impure’) in order to even attempt passing as one. Frustrated by the irony.

She feels like a coyote trying to blend in with a pack of wolves. Fortunately for her, she’s got enough fire to keep up most of the time...

Might be equal to a sergeant in terms of rank; second-in-command of a platoon in Gunmar’s army (or the Gumm-Gumm equivalent). Favorite weapon: Parlock spear, but likes brawling unarmed, too. Would absolutely love the drunken fist style.

Not the strongest hitter or fastest healer, but she’s enthusiastic, fast, and has excellent pain tolerance and reflexes; excels at rolling with the punches, dodging, and deflecting. Has enough stamina to wait out or distract most opponents she’s met long enough to create openings for her teams to take down particularly tough enemies and accomplish their objectives. She’s not a duelist, she’s a pack-fighter. The rush from that is her favorite thing ever. It gives her a sense of belonging and community that she otherwise feels a degree of removal from, and the aftermath of victory is the only time she’s too hyped up to mind non-violent physical contact – celebratory headbutts and claps on the back, that kind of thing.

As evasive as she is in combat, she still gets hit a lot. Tends her own wounds, and refuses to let a healer treat her unless ordered to by a superior. And it might be a little hard to notice in a place as gloomy and washed-out as the Darklands, but her blood is a telltale purple. Grateful for how much her Gumm-Gumm armor hides. (I need to draw her helmet, too. She wears it a lot. Especially when injured.)

Has a reputation for being disciplined, loyal, direct, and industrious. And neurotic. Oddly, is most relaxed (and tolerable) when on a mission or task. During her downtime, she’ll seek out other work, or will try to salvage resources, clean/repair weapons and armor, or organize supplies in the interest of boosting efficiency. No task is too small so long as she’s convinced it will be of some benefit to the cause. If her regular duties are complete and no one gives her further orders, and if she’s got energy to spare, she’ll find something to do.

She was very gentle and affectionate as a whelp. Liked to cuddle and nap, and was easy to put to bed. When feeling active, she enjoyed ‘helping’ her favorite adults with tasks, ���hide-and-scare’ (would leap or scamper out of her hiding spot and ambush her playmates with all the ferocity of a kitten), wrestling, and the “I bet I can jump from here to there” game. Mostly wanted to climb somewhere high up (especially on tall, broad shoulders) and observe (and give occasional, soft little headbutt-nudges like a happy cat). Is a mutt with a strong background of a sub-type of troll with propensity for leaping, climbing, and ambush tactics. Has very strong fingers, forearms, legs, and toes, and is an excellent climber. Can even fall asleep clinging to rocky walls to this day.

Became the exact opposite of cuddly. It’s like a Cats vs Cucumbers video. If someone startles her by getting too close in a non-combat situation, she can leap pretty high – and cling to any rocky walls, ledges, tree branches, or accidentally tear down rafters and get tangled in curtains. Might yell, start a brawl, or bite her tongue to resist doing either, depending on who scared her.

Very conscious of hierarchy and knows her place in it. Easily intimidated by superiors getting into her personal space, and will try to anticipate where they’re going and get out of their way. But if in-formation, or expected to hold, she will obey and hold position for as long as they tell her to, no matter how nervous it makes her.

If, however, they attempt to take advantage of her despite her protest, or if she witnesses someone else being abused (as opposed to punished) by a superior, she’s likely to take that to mean that the aggressor is unfit for the responsibility of their station, and she will consider the resulting fight she starts as her ‘appeal for a promotion’. She may be a bit squirrely, but she’s got pride and resolve in spades. Fortunately, this has only happened once so far (her former sergeant was abusing one of her shield-mates), and fortunately, she won (barely). Lost a tooth in that fight.

Gets really touch-starved when in season. She hates it. It’s perhaps the one instance (aside from recovering from debilitating injury) in which she’ll take her downtime to actually rest – which she’ll do somewhere up high and relatively hidden, where she can keep tabs on things in case she’s needed for something, but is otherwise out of sight and out of mind. Gets kind of depressed, too; without her usual duties and distractions, her mind wanders to things she’d rather not think about.

Pan and demi, but because she doesn’t want to chance anyone finding out her secret, she tends to keep people at a distance, and is effectively celibate.

Normally rolls around in dust-baths a lot to help disguise her scent. Does this extra when in season.

Favorite snacks: packing-peanuts (she likes the squeak) and coffee-grounds. Will stress-eat either of those by the handful, especially if drizzled with teriyaki sauce. Favorite beverage: any kind of soda. The bubbles “taste sharp” and it comes in edible shells! Likes to mix it with bubble solution when she’s feeling extra fancy.

Gunmar seems to notice a difference in how changelings smell, so she’s especially wary around him. It’s kind of a weird situation for her. He makes no secret of his opinions on changelings, but she idolizes him (so much that she ran off to join the Battle of Killahead when she was young and naive and wanted to personally witness his victory). As a result, her motivation to conceal the truth isn’t only about self-preservation. It’s also about trying to do right by her hero by trying to “defy her treacherous nature” (as she thinks of it) and live as a proper, loyal Gumm-Gumm. But doing so requires deception, and she’s deeply frustrated by the irony.

Constantly waffles back and forth between thoughts of “I’m lying, disloyal trash. End me.” and “This is my lot, and I’m gonna do the best I can with it.”

The only two things holding her back from coming clean and submitting to punishment, is 1) her fear of possibly getting her familiar killed as part of said punishment, and 2) her fear of dying as one more “lying, treacherous Impure” despite her efforts not to be.

Was a young, stary-eyed nobody at the Battle of Killahead, and got trapped in the Darklands with the rest of the Gumm-Gumm army. Quickly realized (or assumed) how Thoroughly Dead she’d be if she didn’t start passing as 100% Troll, pronto, and has kept up the ruse ever since. Has gone to great lengths to keep this secret, up to and including bribing goblins to hide her familiar – first name “Danica” - and erasing the name they shared from the nursery records to protect them both.

Had five fingers on each hand, which was seen as a common enough mutation among her tribe, but which she feared might be incriminating. Just to be on the safe side, she bit off her pinkies. It wasn’t her favorite day. Later learned that it’s perfectly normal for some changelings to have different numbers of fingers in different forms, and she was just being paranoid. Sour about it.

“Dezoka” was the first Trollish name she conjured up when someone asked her. She’s craftier now, but she was not a brilliant improviser in her youth, and still reflexively grimaces at the name sometimes. (It’s too close to her familiar’s name for comfort.)

She’s getting older by the present day, and even if she can still fight, she knows her reflexes are slowing. She never figured out how to accept that gracefully, and is a bit grouchy about it. She thinks she’s had a good run, even if she spent the vast majority of her life in the Darklands, and is hoping she’ll die in combat before anyone figures her out.

Witnessing Nomura getting imprisoned and tortured only made her more certain that the same would befall her. She wasn’t sure which would be more “classically Impure”: trying to appeal on Nomura’s behalf (she was trying to think up a compelling case to let her serve in the army), trying to help her escape (thereby betraying Gunmar, which is out of the question), or letting another changeling take hits for things she couldn’t help (and knowing no one would step up for her, either). Things moved on before she could decide, but the question still haunts her.

It puts kind of a damper on her ability to form relationships. And even if she got to spend time around other known changelings, while curious about them, she has internalized a lot of shame and negativity about them. And even if she didn’t have that problem, letting anyone know (changeling or not) puts her and her familiar at risk.

She has been working on a plan to get her familiar back to the Surface ever since she heard that humans are now far more likely to survive infancy. She’s not afraid to risk her life in battle, but she’s terrified of screwing up and getting her familiar killed (either on the Surface or as punishment), so that’s why she hasn’t made her move yet.

She thinks she would rather stick with Gunmar’s army than join up with the Janus Order if she got the chance. She’s lived almost her entire life as a troll, anyway, and doesn’t know how to be human, even if she may or may not have a few buried human instincts and tendencies. Also, a huge part of her paranoia about letting anyone get too close is her fear that they might have a gaggletack.

One of the main things that has kept her from giving up during times of doubt, crisis, and intense loneliness, is that she always still wants to see how long she can get away with it. It seems to her to be a very Impure attitude, and she’s starting to learn how to laugh at the irony.

[butterbeeryuta]

the ikea guy

ikea employee!yangyang x uni student!reader | oneshot series | fluff, CRACK| 1.9 k

Fuck Kim Doyoung. Fuck his boyfriend. Fuck the weak ass tv rack you bought. Fuck the human’s Id taking control over people. Fuck humanity.

The last thing you wanted to see was your roommate and his boyfriend, who were both barely clothed by the way, trying to fix the already broken tv rack you bought 2 years ago when you moved out of the dorms to a new apartment 8 minutes away from your university. Short story short, the two men were busy doing their shit— which you honestly did not mind since you yourself bring home some guys to, you know, have fun with. But what you could not understand was why they had to do in your living room, against the tv rack. All you could remember was screaming at Doyoung, while Taeyong was there apologising, but you knew that the little devil was internally laughing, finding the entire situation hilarious. Your roommate, on the other hand, was not giving a shit about what you were saying, which was normal for the two of you. Ever since he moved in with you in your second year, both of you had an interesting relationship. Despite your arguments with one another and ‘uncaringness,’ assuming that is a word, the two of you still looked after another. A month or so ago, Doyoung kept you up all night since he was busy having a little drinking party in his room, and his friends were loud. Especially that Jaehyun guy; his laugh alone could honestly wake up the entire neighbourhood. Then again, Doyoung’s laugh is pretty ugly too considering he literally laughs like, ‘ha ha ha ha ha ha.’ I swear, you love Doyoung. Anyways, Doyoung nicely mailed all of your professors the next day that you were feeling unwell, allowing you to stay in and sleep a bit more. Except, he told you about it while you were rushing to the door to run to your lessons. You two were interesting.

Eventually, Doyoung apologised and gave you the money to purchase a better tv rack. You were expecting him to buy it for you, then again, he was Kim fucking Doyoung. He just ain’t like that. So here you were, at motherfucking Ikea. Every child’s nightmare, including yours. Your aim was to find the cheapest tv rack, yet still pretty good in quality. You were not the type to give a damn about the aesthetics and things; if it’s going to help you store your shit, that’s all you needed. Which is probably why you hated furniture shopping, you could never appreciate the so-called ‘beauty’ of it. Following the arrows printed on the grey floor, buying the tv rack was more complex than you thought. There was black, white, yellow, brown, wooden, grey— more colours than you could have ever imagined. You honestly just wanted the cheapest one at this point, forget quality. Everything else was giving you a headache. Without wanting to use more of your brain cells, perhaps for now, socialising will make it less painful, even if you really hated people as of this moment. Looking around for a person wearing the yellow and blue striped shirt with a name tag on, you eventually found the person you were looking for. Not too tall, but he wasn’t short either. Well, at least he won’t be intimidating.

‘Um, excuse me—‘

‘Ma’am the hotdogs and ice cream are available after you purchase your materials at the cashier.’

What. What the fuck?

‘What?’ The guy turned to look towards you, unamused with whatever you currently had to say. Your eyes slightly widened by his appearance, but you swear to your kneecaps if he remains to be like this, you’re going to bite.

‘You’re looking for the food right? Just pay for whatever stuff you have now and—‘

‘Why the hell would I want to buy food here, I just want to know the cheapest tv rack you have in this store’ you interrupted, not willing to hear any of his bullshit, despite him having a pretty face. Now it was his turn to be taken back by what you said. Goodness, how long has this imbecile been working here?

‘Oh um… yeah I don’t know. Maybe if you’ll look around you’ll know?’ Oh you’ve got to be kidding. Not wanting to waste more time on this pretty idiot, you looked at his name-tag to tell off to another Ikea employee. You were not having it today. See you later Yangyang.

—————————————————————————————————

Okay. Apparently people who work in this nightmare of a furniture store take their shit seriously. You just went to another person to complain about Yangyang, and here you are, at the manager’s office. Literally, what the fuck.

‘I would like to apologise on his behalf again, he’s new here. He does not know what exactly he is doing, but I can assure you the rest of the staff here are kind and willing to help. I sincerely apologise that you had to experience such unacceptable behaviour from our staff’ the manager said, bowing his head for the nth time. You honestly wanted to leave and just purchase the tv rack online; you wanted that Ikea guy to not be a dick— that’s why you complained. What you didn’t want is the poor guy to be fired from his job.

‘No, no, please don’t worry. I’m pretty sure he is a good natured person, probably just had a bad day—‘

‘No, that is utter nonsense! We will get this settled now. Please take a seat Ms. ________’ he said, moving his rather puffy face towards the black microphone, pressing the green button with his stubby fingers. Oh no.

‘Liu Yangyang please come to Mr. Park Yoobin’s office. Liu Yangyang please come to Mr. Park Yoobin’s office, now.’ What have I done.

—————————————————————————————————

You were annoyed that you put yourself into this mess. But the guy beside you, if looks could kill, you would have probably woken up in hell by now. You felt bad, you didn’t want this to happen at all. Like you said, you just complained about Yangyang being ‘not helpful’ when you asked him a question to another man that was slightly shorter than you. You expected no reaction at all, you just did it cause you were in a bad mood thanks to Doyoung and his boyfriend. That was of course, until the older man gasped loudly, shocked to hear the words that came out of your mouth. Today was a really bad day.

‘Mr. Liu, I know that this is your second week working here, but that gives no excuse to treat a lovely customer like Ms. ________ poorly. Even if you didn’t know where a certain furniture piece is, you could have made the effort to look for it with her.’ Mr. Park said, his eyebrows furrowing even more as he spoke. It was quite a funny sight from where you were sitting. Then again, this was not a funny situation, you hated every minute of it because not only is it wasting your time, but you could possibly be the reason why this Ikea guy will lose his job.

Yangyang felt pretty guilty for assuming in an instance that you were wanting to ask for food, when you actually had a pretty genuine question. He also felt useless for not helping you effectively, but he didn’t want this job at all. He wanted to work at the cafe near his university, instead of travelling for another 30 minutes just to be in the corner and see people search for furniture to build their so-called ‘dream home.’ Although he did not exactly have anything against an aesthetic appeal or such, he did judge people like that. And little did he know, so were you. Then again, he didn’t exactly care about that at this point. He wanted to stay away from you as soon as possible for putting him in such a position. He already felt bad for not helping you properly, and maybe he somewhat understood why he was sitting in the manager’s office, but literally, what the fuck.

‘Mr. Park, I honestly did not mean to show such disrespect to the customer. I do admit that I was being a know-it-all, thinking that she— what’s your name again?’ He asks me, actually talking to me for the first time since he walked into the room.

‘Um, ________—‘

‘Ms. ________ wanted to go to the food court. And as you said, I have only been here for 2 weeks. I am still unsure of where certain things are, and I perhaps should have helped Ms. ________, so yes, I do sincerely apologise.’ My, my, was he good at saying bullshit.

‘Mr. Liu I appreciate your honesty, and you should really be grateful for Ms. ________ for being so kind, wanting to make sure that nothing happens to you’ the man in front of you said, both his hands interlocking one another as he looks at his employee. And although you were looking at Mr. Park, you certainly did not miss the widening of Yangyang’s eyes. He must be thinking that I was a hypocritical psycho bitch. He isn’t wrong with that at all though.

‘Um, Mr. Park. If you really want to make it up for me, I just really need the tv rack. My roommate is paying for it, so considering that, it really urgent for me to go soon. I’m sure Yangyang was just having a bad day, so please, give the boy a second chance.’ You began packing your things, eventually standing up, not wanting to hear any more rebuttals from the Ikea manager. You had enough.

‘Ms. ________ hold on—‘ And you closed the door. Fucking rat, why couldn’t he leave me alone and deal with his employee privately?

—————————————————————————————————

You finally got the cheapest tv rack available from Ikea, completely contradicting yourself earlier when you said you would’ve rather shopped online. With the amount of cash Doyoung gave you, Ikea was probably a better choice.

‘Hey, you!’ What the fuck?

You turned around, and of course, it was the Ikea guy, but he wasn’t wearing his uniform. And he looked so much more attractive, no matter how much you didn’t want to admit it. With his dyed hair swept to the side and his oversized knit turtle neck, he looked so much… softer and calmer. Well that contrasted with his character. You crossed your arms, waiting for the man to come closer.

‘What was that about? Look, I know I didn’t help you and I do feel quite guilty about it, but was it really that necessary to—‘

‘Before you act like a dick again, I didn’t want it to happen either. I’m a petty ass person, and though it wasn’t mandatory to tell on you, which I’m sorry for by the way, you annoyed me despite how pretty you look. I’m pretty sure you still have your job, and I got my tv rack. So let’s just forget all of this happened, and move on with our petty lives— are you okay? Did I say something wrong’ Why is he looking at me like that?  He just smiled at me, tilting his head slightly, and it’s making you feel warm for some reason.

‘Well since you said that we both live petty lives, and called me pretty so thank you for that, let me take this—‘ he says, tearing the tv rack box open, grabbing one of the rack’s legs, which only made you stand in complete astonishment; what the mcfucking hell was he doing? ‘—and well, somehow find me babe!’ Yangyang shouts, walking away from you quicker and quicker.

‘GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE, AND RETURN MY FUCKING LEG!’

‘By the way, I also think you look pretty!’ He’s worse than Kim Doyoung. He is actually so much worse than Kim Doyoung.

[guileheroine]

strange hours

a huan/tahno (legend of korra) commission for @random-stuff-enjoy!, an extension of this drabble (1.5k)💚 / ao3 /  ♡ commission a ficlet!♡

Huan had leapt off the little couch the moment Tahno stumbled in, the sight of his face evaporating all the careful thoughts of his next sculpture from his mind. His roommate had a deep bruise over his cheekbone, stark against his pale skin.

Huan swallowed his heart back into his chest. “What happened?!” When Tahno only gave him an evasive shrug, he snatched his wrist, alarm still rising.

At that, Tahno furrowed his brow. “Come on, it’s just a scratch. What, you’ve never seen a little street rumble?”

Huan crossed his arms, heart still pattering under them. Well, no, he hadn’t. No one in Zaofu ever went around having tussles in the open no matter how much they’d had to drink. This was the first time that Tahno had come home to this dinky flat in such a state, and Huan, his own head roiling, didn’t know whether to be glad he’d moved in.

Mom had provided him one of the many bedrooms in her rented apartment here, and even offered to pay for one of those swanky Four Elements suites if the first prospect was too stifling, but part of him knew this was his call to experience life amongst the starving artists of the big city.

Tahno, he would never admit to fitting that bill. But he did - and when he had mentioned offhand that he was looking for a roommate, that day they met at the wedding on Air Temple Island, Huan jumped at the chance. A washed up ex-probender in a jazz band! The drama of it all. But it hadn’t taken long for Huan to end up with doodles of Tahno and his damn coiffure in the margins of his sketchbooks.

The ambient lighting for the brainstorming session made the shadows on Tahno’s face even droopier. Beneath them the skin was peaky, his eyes tired. Huan’s fist curled with the urge to cup his bruised cheek, soothe the skin.

“Let me see,” he said coolly, exhaling his panic. “My mom taught us a lot about healing techniques.”

A hint of skepticism entered Tahno’s vacant expression at that, like he wasn’t sure that necessarily translated to any actual capability on Huan’s part. 

Huan wished he’d just humour him. Now that he’d leapt to Tahno’s side, he began to feel conscious of the fact that it would be very easy, right now, to come off as overbearing, if he didn’t already. It wouldn’t be the first time someone accused him of that. Usually he’d scoff at the notion, but with Tahno — in the current quiet of the room, which provided his roommate little else to be distracted by — Huan was very aware of the attention he’d just demanded for himself.

Part of him wished he’d just let Tahno go to bed, and part of him reveled in the exhilarating trepidation.

“I… How did you— ” He began, then mentally shook himself and hardened his voice. “Sit down, come on.” First things first. 

Tahno gave a shrug that shouldn’t have signaled acquiescence, but somehow did - all of his body language always felt vaguely noncommittal. But after a few months of him lurking around in the same apartment, Huan had figured out how to read its subtleties, and now did so automatically. 

Rolling the shoulder he’d shrugged, Tahno came and slumped beside him on the couch. 

“I’m gonna get some ice,” Huan said, then rose, biting his cheek, and left him there.

He should probably have made some talk while he pottered about for the ice and some of that aloe ointment from home that he knew he had somewhere around here. It was one of those things he’d never expected to actually need, throwing it in the back of a drawer he couldn’t recall - but it looked like the occasion to treat some inflammation had finally come. Mom had always kept huge pots of the plant around the grounds - they dominated the walkways, sculpture-like themselves - and she could have hour-long conversations about them with her horticulturist, so it must’ve been good stuff. Who knew, maybe this would… What, impress Tahno?

Huan was embarrassed to have had the thought, and pretty much annihilated it in its tracks. Anyway, here it was - he stretched his fingers for the tube of ointment, ice pack cradled in his other arm, and made his way back to the couch.

Tahno was sitting with his eyes skyward, blank. The fog of impenetrability that was always about him seemed particularly dense tonight. Probably, he was preparing to deflect Huan’s attempts to probe him for answers about what had gone down. It wasn’t exactly that Tahno was hard to pin down — more that whatever he let on about himself seemed to come about despite his best efforts. He was protective of himself. 

Huan could see it, because he knew something of that sort of pride - the sort that was stubborn and not without bitterness. It’s not like either of them were easy to get to know. It was the kind of thing he’d only admit at an hour like this.

Maybe it was the same for Tahno, and the fog would thin with a bit of prodding. Huan wrapped the ice pack in one of the thin towels he used while painting, grabbing it off the shelf beneath the coffee table, and shaking it to unfold it. Usually this place was a mess, but he had tidied up as part of the prep for this evening’s brainstorming session, and the lack of cups strewn about definitely contributed to the night’s cool, new ambience.

“Ice.”

Tahno’s ears pricked and he sat up, not without a wince. “Oh, thanks.” 

If he was startled when Huan held it up to the bruise himself, he didn’t show it much. He just swallowed, as Huan gently pressed the ice pack to his cheek with a hand that he mentally willed not to falter. 

For a second, Tahno’s eyes closed in relief. The weariness about him evaporated when he did, like his eyes had just been waiting for the opportunity to fall shut. 

Then Huan coughed. He felt weird sitting there, sort-of touching Tahno’s face in silence. “So… How did you even get like this?” 

Tahno opened one eye at that, and some humour that Huan hadn’t expected glimmered in it. He bit the inside of his cheek again.

“If I tell you, will you promise not to bite my head off?”

Huan forced a laugh. Again, he was surprised when Tahno returned it with a scoff of his own. If he was blushing, it’d be impossible to tell in the dim light, so there was that. Before he could think of something to say, Tahno took pity on him.

“Fine, fine. I’m sorry I scared you.” He paused, and when he spoke again he sounded candid, but not reluctant. “We were just at a bar. A couple of those losers down Razorbill Row - they’re Rabaroos fans and there was that match tonight. You know, some of them still think it’s funny to rag on the Wolfbats, like we didn’t make the game in our day— Normally I wouldn’t give them the time of day, but…” 

Huan couldn’t help but be skeptical about that final part, and the way Tahno trailed off affirmed the feeling. 

But anyway, he had never been to that part of town. And he decided he probably never wanted to go. It lurked vaguely in his imagination as exactly the kind of stylish yet seedy Republic City neighbourhood that gave the city its dusky allure — but in an abstracted sort of way, like he’d want to channel an impression of it in a sculpture or painting from a very safe distance. 

Tahno — one look at him made it clear he was right at home in that kind of place. Hence his enigmatic appeal, Huan had figured.

The silence was stretching; he could tell because Tahno’s eyes lingered on him as if in reminder, and the awkwardness crept in again. 

“Were they, like, trying to taunt you?” He said all too quick, and gestured vaguely, “Whoever… did this?” 

He couldn’t have come out with a more stupid question, obviously. He averted his eyes, put the ice pack down, and busied himself uncapping the ointment, all his focus pointedly in his own lap.

He heard Tahno sigh, oblivious. “It’s just kids, you know… got a few too many drinks in them. Demons.” He bristled again, making it quite clear he wasn’t making them any excuses.

“So did you, by the looks of it,” Huan said. He was relieved to get some higher ground here, and hopefully Tahno wasn’t going to feel too provoked by it.

When he looked up again, Tahno was combing a hand back through his hair, placid and unruffled again. “Just a scuffle,” he said, finally cracking a cool smile. The ice seemed to have done its job. The way he flashed between rare candor and cool indifference — Huan struggled to keep up.

He said nothing, but pressed his lips together, clenched his stomach, and dabbed at Tahno’s cheek with the aloe gel.

“They’re a scrappy bunch down there. You’d fit in, you know.” Tahno said, eyeing him with that biting mischief.

Huan pressed his lips tighter, a smile and a scowl fighting beneath them. The scowl winning, to be frank. It wasn’t too hard, in all honesty, to see why someone might want to sock that face. But it stirred up a different impulse in Huan, at the end of it.

“What, you scared? Have you ever been to a real bar before?”

“I’ve been to a bar,” Huan snapped so quickly that he revealed the lie.

“Aha,” Tahno drawled. The laugh was good-natured though. Then he hissed in bliss at the coolness of the ointment, and Huan wasn’t sure if he hated him for making such a disarming sound without warning. “...So, you want me to take you?” 

“Where?” 

“Down Razorbill Row.”

Huan had to admit the idea held some appeal when he put it like that, though maybe that was just the hour and his sensibilities would return when he woke up in the morning. He’d certainly feel a lot more - well, comfortable was one way to put it - if Tahno took him there. Although he was pretty sure things would go south quick if Tahno fell in danger of fancying another scuffle. 

“Come on. You’re always holed up in here.” 

Huan was starting to feel defensive for real now. “I- I’m working.” 

“On your art, huh?” Tahno clicked his tongue and said it slowly, like he was testing the waters. “Well. Maybe it could use a little inspiration from out there… if you don’t mind me saying.”

Huan waited for the blind affront to subside. Then he considered it. Maybe he didn’t mind. He wiped the ointment off his fingers onto his other wrist. When he looked at Tahno the silent humour between them made any insult he felt completely inconsequential.

“I mean… you’re right,” Huan conceded. 

Tahno wasn’t the only one that tried too hard to keep their cards close. And now that he’d let one slip, it felt like Tahno was seeing him as a new person. 

“Woof. You’re full of surprises tonight. I’m not kidding, I thought that one would go down way worse.”

Huan barked a laugh the same moment as Tahno did, their held gaze taut with a new giddiness. 

[askullinajar]

Fifty Shades Dicked

The time has come for the third instalment of Fifty Shades of Ectoplasm

This is entirely the fault of the heathens over on the discord, namely @ironsilversaltandtea for posting the photo that led to it all, @achillesangst for making some interesting art of it, and @stormwalkers and @wolfjawswriter for just general shenanigans and egging on.

Warning: Any accuracies, historically, scientifically, or to canon, are completely accidental. This is pure crack. No actual hanky-panky - as I am but a totally innocent asexual - but a whole lot of inappropriate jokes. You have been warned.

Fic info: Post teg. Rating: Mature, clearly. Pairings: Implied locklyle. Word count: 1626

Summary: The gang stumble across a certain something previously owned by Mr and Mrs Lockwood. Shenanigans ensue.

It was a mild spring morning the day we managed to scar Lockwood for life.

The company was going through a lull in cases - something about warmer weather and extended daylight made ghosts not want to show themselves - and we were using that time to do a spot of spring cleaning. The fact that Holly had threatened to quit if she found another of George’s rotting ‘experiments’ stuffed in a random cupboard had absolutely nothing to do with it.

Holly was out with her flatmate on what she insisted was ‘definitely not a date, stop being nosy’ and had appointed Quill to keep an eye on us. His only purpose seemed to be nabbing whatever alcohol we found buried in cupboards from the days when Lockwood’s parents were still around and lounging in a chair complaining about this and that. I wasn’t really paying attention, to be honest; I was too busy trying to get Skully to stop dripping ectoplasm all over the newly-cleaned surfaces as he hovered above us making increasingly rude comments. 

“You could help you know!” I snapped at him, interrupting Quill’s ranting about the extortionate prices of laundry detergent.

“Moi?” said Skully, swooning dramatically in midair. “I am but a simple street urchin, I know nothing about this so-called ‘cleaning’ thing.” He waved a hand and sent half the kitchen appliances skidding across the counter and crashing to the floor. “Whoopsie!” he said, though his sadistic grin was far from apologetic. 

I picked up the salt shaker and threw it at him. It passed right through, of course, and collided with the wall, but a few grains of salt came loose and hissed as they came into contact with his ectoplasm. 

“Ow!”

I ignored his complaints and went to put the appliances back with Lockwood and George’s help. When the boys hefted up the microwave, I noticed the floorboard beneath it had come loose. I knelt by it and dug my fingers in to prise it up.

“There’s a box under here,” I informed them, brushing dust away from the wilted cardboard.

George kneeled next to me and adjusted his glasses to peer at it. “Interesting. Reckon it contains anything of paranormal significance?”

“Or anything valuable?” said Quill, kneeling on my other side.

“It’s probably just stuff my parents hid when authorities came to call,” shrugged Lockwood, turning away with his bright pink feather duster to clean the higher shelves. “They weren’t exactly supposed to bring possible Sources into the country.”

Whatever it was, investigating it seemed more fun than cleaning, so I prised up the floorboards either side of the gap and wiggled the box free. 

The box was filled to the brim with packing foam, but when I dug it out and managed a first glimpse at what it was hiding, I nearly choked.

“What is it?” said Lockwood, whirling back around at the noise. “Are you alright, Lucy?”

My face pulled taut in a gallant effort not to laugh, I dug my hands into the box and pulled out its contents: a finely crafted china teapot, in the shape of a dick and balls.

Immediately, my hearing filled with spectral laughter as Skully burst into loud cackling above me, gripping his stomach and gasping for nonexistent breath. Quill and George weren’t far from joining in.

“Oh my god,” Quill gasped, wheezing as tears of mirth filled his eyes. “Tony, what exactly were your parents into?”

Lockwood’s face had gone a brilliant shade of red as he stammered for words. “It- It can’t be theirs- they- it must have belonged to the last people who owned the house…”

George took the teapot off me, which I was very grateful for as I was dangerously close to dropping it with my hands shaking from laughter. He cleaned his glasses on his shirt, placed them back on his head, then took the lid of the phallic pot and peered inside.

“Oh,” he said, the laughter immediately wiped from his face. “Oh, this definitely belonged to your parents, Lockwood.”

“What?” said Lockwood, eying the teapot from a distance as though weary it would blow up any minute. “What is it?”

George silently handed the teapot over to Quill before standing, going over to the sink, and dunking his head in the basin of what was now very cold water. 

Quill reached into the teapot and pulled out a stack of old photographs. I leaned over his shoulder curiously as he flicked through them and immediately started choking for real. I recognised Celia and Donald Lockwood from the few photos Lockwood had scattered around the house. I was not prepared for the positions they were in.

“What is it?” Lockwood insisted. “What’s on them?” He moved to reach for them but Quill jerked them out of his reach. Unfortunately, this put them right into Skully’s line of sight and the ghost started cackling even harder than before.

“Holy shit, those are some saucy parents he has. Come on, Luce, show the boy how he was probably conceived!”

“Nope!” I blurted, snatching the photos from Quill’s hand and lurching to my feet to make a beeline for the living room and - more importantly - the fireplace. “Lockwood, trust me, you do not want to see these.”

“If they’re photos of my parents, I want to see!” cried Lockwood, chasing after me.

It was then that the umbrella stand in the hallway fell into my path - entirely on its own, Skully would insist later - and my feet collided with it causing me to crash down to the floor, my grip coming loose from the photo stack and resulting in a whirlwind of erotic snapshots to fall down around me.

“Oh no.” Lockwood’s voice seemed very cracked and distant, and when I pushed myself up and turned to him, the poor boy had his hands clamped tight over his eyes, his face and ears tomato red. “George, please tear out my eyes!”

“Only if you tear out mine too,” George said, coming into the hallway with his hair dripping wet. “God, this is almost as bad as when I walked in on my mum-”

“Do not finish that sentence!”

“At least you don’t have to look your parents in the eyes after this,” George muttered, folding his arms over his chest. “Took me three months to get over that.”

“I’m going to have nightmares,” moaned Lockwood. “Lucy, please tell me you’ve picked them all up by now.”

Quill and I were systematically gathering them up and tossing them in the fireplace. Only when Quill had lit the fire did we give Lockwood the all-clear.

“I am never cleaning the house again!” Lockwood declared, collapsing against me with his face buried into my shoulder. I patted his back sympathetically.

“At least we got a new teapot out of it,” said George. “Tea, anyone?”

“There is no way I am drinking tea out of that thing,” said Lockwood. “Can we please get rid of it?”

“Or...” I said, spying the blackened skull perched on a shelf in the kitchen. “I have another idea.”

*

Holly returned to find us all - minus George, who was making sure there were no loose photos lying around - sheepishly sitting around the kitchen table sipping tea. The kitchen was clean, at least, but Holly didn’t even seem to notice, her eyes going straight to the teapot on the table.

“What. On earth. Is that?��

“Our new teapot,” I said matter-of-factly. “Like it?”

“That is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen,” said Holly, her nose wrinkling. “I have never understood the appeal of these things.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” said Quill, sipping his tea casually.

“I’m throwing it out,” said Holly, picking it up with the tips of her fingers like it was contaminated, which it probably was.

It was then that Skully decided to make his presence known by forming directly out of the ‘spout’, his ectoplasm contorted grotesquely into the happy farmhand.

Holly, to no one’s surprise, shrieked and hurled the teapot all the way down the hall where a loud thump and yelp ensued.

“Oh my gosh, George, I’m so sorry!” Holly cried, rushing down the hall with the rest of us at her heels to find George curled up on the floor, the shattered remains of the teapot as well as the skull surrounding him. “Are you alright?!”

George groaned and pushed himself upright to reveal his glasses askew and a bright red mark on his face in the perfect silhouette of a dick and balls. I tried to stop myself laughing and only half managed.

“I think I have a concussion,” George slurred.

“Hospital,” said Holly, helping George up and bustling him to the door. “Hospital, now.”

*

The nurse looked from the penis permanently etched onto George’s face, to the haunted look in Lockwood’s eyes, to me and Quill who were still snickering, before finally turning to Holly who she seemed to deem as the most sensible one of the group. She wasn’t exactly wrong. Perhaps she remembered us from the time George got a condom stuck over his head and nearly suffocated.

“How?”

“Dick teapot,” I blurted, trying not to look at Goerge’s face because if I did I would most certainly die of laughter. Unfortunately, this made me picture it again and I snorted anyway.

The nurse heaved a great sigh as if this was just the same old bullshit she had to deal with every day.

“Just once,” she said, “why can’t it just be ghost-touch.”

George rubbed at the imprint on his face, then seemed to realise it looked like he was wanking the dick off and stopped. “You know,” he said, ignoring me and Quill wheezing next to him, “I’m actually with you on that one, ma’am.”